A few days after my arrival, Mírzá Aḥmad informed me of his having succeeded, while in Qum, in teaching the Cause to Íldirím Mírzá, brother of Khánlar Mírzá, to whom he wished to present a copy of the “Dalá’il-i-Sab‘ih,” and expressed his desire that I should be its bearer. Íldirím Mírzá was in those days governor of Khurram-Ábád, in the province of Luristán, and had encamped with his army in the mountains of Khávih-Válishtar. I was only too glad to grant his request, and expressed my readiness to start immediately on that journey. With a Kurdish guide, we traversed mountains and forests for six days and six nights, until we reached the governor’s headquarters. I delivered the trust into his hands and brought back with me for Mírzá Aḥmad a written message from him expressing his appreciation of the gift and assuring him of his devotion to the Cause of its Author.

On my return, I received from Mírzá Aḥmad the joyful tidings of the arrival of Bahá’u’lláh in Kirmánsháh. As we were being ushered into His presence, we found Him, it being the month of Ramaḍán, engaged in reading the Qur’án, and were blessed by hearing Him read verses of that sacred Book. I presented to Him Íldirím Mírzá’s written message to Mírzá Aḥmad. “The faith which a member of the Qájár dynasty professes,” He remarked, after reading the letter, “cannot be depended upon. His declarations are insincere. Expecting that the Bábís will one day assassinate the sovereign, he harbours in his heart the hope of being acclaimed by them the successor. The love he professes for the Báb is actuated by that motive.” Within a few months we knew the truth of His words. This same Íldirím Mírzá gave orders that a certain Siyyid Baṣír-i-Hindí, a fervent adherent of the Faith, should be put to death.

Reference to Siyyid Baṣír-i-Hindí

It would be appropriate at this juncture to deviate from the course of our narrative and refer briefly to the circumstances of this martyr’s conversion and death. Among the disciples whom the Báb had instructed, in the early days of His Mission, to disperse and teach His Cause, was a certain Shaykh Sa‘íd-i-Hindí, one of the Letters of the Living, who had been directed by his Master to journey throughout India and proclaim to its people the precepts of His Revelation. Shaykh Sa‘íd, in the course of his travels, visited the town of Mooltan, where he met this Siyyid Baṣír, who, though blind, was able to perceive immediately, with his inner eye, the significance of the message Shaykh Sa‘íd had brought him. The vast learning he had acquired, far from hindering him from appreciating the value of the Cause to which he was summoned, enabled him to grasp its meaning and understand the greatness of its power. Casting behind him the trappings of leadership, and severing himself from his friends and kinsmen, he arose with a fixed resolve to render his share of service to the Cause he had embraced. His first act was to undertake a pilgrimage to Shíráz, in the hope of meeting his Beloved. Arriving in that city, he was informed, to his surprise and grief, that the Báb had been banished to the mountains of Ádhirbáyján, where He was leading a life of unrelieved solitude. He straightway proceeded to Ṭihrán, and from thence departed for Núr, where he met Bahá’u’lláh. This meeting relieved his heart from the burden of sorrow caused by his failure to meet his Master. To those he subsequently met, of whatever class or creed, he imparted the joys and blessings he had so abundantly received from the hands of Bahá’u’lláh, and was able to endow them with a measure of the power with which his intercourse with Him had invested his innermost being.

I have heard Shaykh Shahíd-i-Mázkán relate the following: “I was privileged to meet Siyyid Baṣír at the height of summer during his passage through Qamṣar, whither the leading men of Káshán go to escape the heat of that town. Day and night, I found him engaged in arguing with the leading ‘ulamás who had congregated in that village. With ability and insight, he discussed with them the subtleties of their Faith, expounded without fear or reservation the fundamental teachings of the Cause, and absolutely confuted their arguments. No one, however great his learning and experience, was able to reject the evidences he set forth in support of his claims. Such were his insight and his knowledge of the teachings and ordinances of Islám that his adversaries conceived him to be a sorcerer, whose baneful influence they feared would ere long rob them of their position.”

I have similarly heard Mullá Ibráhím, surnamed Mullá-Báshí, who was martyred in Sulṭán-Ábád, thus recount his impression of Siyyid Baṣír: “Towards the end of his life, Siyyid Baṣír passed through Sulṭán-Ábád, where I was able to meet him. He was continually associated with the leading ‘ulamás. No one could surpass his knowledge of the Qur’án and his mastery of the traditions ascribed to Muḥammad. He displayed an understanding which made him the terror of his adversaries. Often would his opponents question the accuracy of his quotations or reject the existence of the tradition which he produced in support of his contention. With unerring exactitude, he would establish the truth of his argument by his reference to the text of the ‘Usúl-i-Káfí’ and the ‘Biḥáru’l-Anvár,’ from which he would instantly bring out the particular tradition demonstrating the truth of his words. He stood unrivalled alike in the fluency of his argument and the facility with which he brought out the most incontrovertible proofs in support of his theme.”

From Sulṭán-Ábád, Siyyid Baṣír proceeded to Luristán, where he visited the camp of Íldirím Mírzá, and was received by him with marked respect and consideration. In the course of his conversation with him one day, the siyyid, who was a man of great courage, referred to Muḥammad Sháh in terms that aroused the fierce anger of Íldirím Mírzá. He was furious at the tone and vehemence of his remarks, and ordered that his tongue be pulled out through the back of his neck. The siyyid endured this cruel torture with amazing fortitude, but succumbed to the pain which his oppressor had mercilessly inflicted upon him. The same week a letter, in which Íldirím Mírzá had abused his brother, Khánlar Mírzá, was discovered by the latter, who immediately obtained the consent of his sovereign to treat him in whatever way he pleased. Khánlar Mírzá, who entertained an implacable hatred for his brother, ordered that he be stripped of his clothes and conducted, naked and in chains, to Ardibíl, where he was imprisoned and where eventually he died.

Reason for Bahá’u’lláh’s departure for Karbilá

Bahá’u’lláh spent the entire month of Ramaḍán in Kirmánsháh. Shukru’lláh-i-Núrí, one of His kinsmen, and Mírzá Muḥammad-i-Mázindarání, who had survived the struggle of Ṭabarsí, were the only companions He chose to take with Him to Karbilá. I have heard Bahá’u’lláh Himself give the reasons for His departure from Ṭihrán. “The Amír-Niẓám”, He told us, “asked Us one day to see him. He received Us cordially, and revealed the purpose for which he had summoned Us to his presence. ‘I am well aware,’ he gently insinuated, ‘of the nature and influence of your activities, and am firmly convinced that were it not for the support and assistance which you have been extending to Mullá Ḥusayn and his companions, neither he nor his band of inexperienced students would have been capable of resisting for seven months the forces of the imperial government. The ability and skill with which you have managed to direct and encourage those efforts could not fail to excite my admiration. I have been unable to obtain any evidence whereby I could establish your complicity in this affair. I feel it a pity that so resourceful a person should be left idle and not be given an opportunity to serve his country and sovereign. The thought has come to me to suggest to you that you visit Karbilá in these days when the Sháh is contemplating a journey to Iṣfahán. It is my intention to be enabled, on his return, to confer upon you the position of Amír-Díván, a function you could admirably discharge.’ We vehemently protested against such accusations, and refused to accept the position he hoped to offer Us. A few days after that interview, We left Ṭihrán for Karbilá.”

Ere Bahá’u’lláh’s departure from Kirmánsháh, He summoned Mírzá Aḥmad and me to His presence and bade us depart for Ṭihrán. I was charged to meet Mírzá Yaḥyá immediately after my arrival and to take him with me to the fort of Dhu’l-Faqár Khán, situated in the vicinity of Sháhrúd, and remain with him until Bahá’u’lláh returned to the capital. Mírzá Aḥmad was instructed to remain in Ṭihrán until His arrival, and was entrusted with a box of sweetmeats and a letter addressed to Áqáy-i-Kalím, who was to forward the gift to Mázindarán, where the Most Great Branch and His mother were residing.

Nabíl’s departure with Mírzá Aḥmad for Ṭihrán

Mírzá Yaḥyá, to whom I delivered the message, refused to leave Ṭihrán, and directed me instead to leave for Qazvín. He compelled me to abide by his wish and to take with me certain letters which he bade me deliver to certain of his friends in that town. On my return to Ṭihrán, I was constrained, on the insistence of my kinsmen, to leave for Zarand. Mírzá Aḥmad, however, promised that he would again arrange for my return to the capital, a promise which he fulfilled. Two months later, I was again living with him in a caravanserai outside the gate of Naw, where I passed the whole winter in his company. He spent his days in transcribing the Persian Bayán and the “Dalá’il-i-Sab‘ih,” a work he accomplished with admirable enthusiasm. He entrusted me with two copies of the latter, asking me to present them on his behalf to Mustawfíyu’l-Mamálik-i-Áshtíyání and Mírzá Siyyid ‘Alíy-i-Tafarshí, surnamed the Majdu’l-Ashraf. The former was so much affected that he was completely won over to the Faith. As for Mírzá Siyyid ‘Alí, the views he expressed were of a totally different character. At a gathering at which Áqáy-i-Kalím was present, he commented in an unfavourable manner upon the continued activities of the believers. “This sect,” he publicly declared, “is still living. Its emissaries are hard at work, spreading the teachings of their leader. One of them, a youth, came to visit me the other day, and presented me with a treatise which I regard as highly dangerous. Anyone from among the common people who shall read that book will surely be beguiled by its tone.” Áqáy-i-Kalím immediately understood from his allusions that Mírzá Aḥmad had sent the Book to him and that I had acted as his messenger. On that very day, Áqáy-i-Kalím asked me to visit him and advised me to return to my home in Zarand. I was asked to induce Mírzá Aḥmad to leave instantly for Qum, as both of us, in his opinion, were exposed to great danger. Acting according to Mírzá Aḥmad’s instructions, I succeeded in inducing the siyyid to return the Book that had been offered him. Shortly after, I parted company with Mírzá Aḥmad, whom I never met again. I accompanied him as far as Sháh-‘Abdu’l-‘Aẓím, whence he departed for Qum, while I pursued my way to Zarand.

Bahá’u’lláh’s activities in Karbilá

The month of Shavvál, in the year 1267 A.H., witnessed the arrival of Bahá’u’lláh at Karbilá. On His way to that holy city, He tarried a few days in Baghdád, that place which He was soon to visit again and where His Cause was destined to mature and unfold itself to the world. When He arrived at Karbilá, He found that a number of its leading residents, among whom were Shaykh Sulṭán and Ḥájí Siyyid Javád, had fallen victims to the pernicious influence of a certain Siyyid-i-‘Uluvv, and had declared themselves his supporters. They were immersed in superstitions and believed their leader to be the very incarnation of the Divine Spirit. Shaykh Sulṭán ranked among his most fervent disciples and regarded himself, next to his master, as the foremost leader of his countrymen. Bahá’u’lláh met him on several occasions and succeeded, by His words of counsel and loving-kindness, in purging his mind from his idle fancies and in releasing him from the state of abject servitude into which he had sunk. He won him over completely to the Cause of the Báb and kindled in his heart a desire to propagate the Faith. His fellow-disciples, witnessing the effects of his immediate and marvellous conversion, were led, one after another, to forsake their former allegiance and to embrace the Cause which their colleague had risen to champion. Abandoned and despised by his former adherents, the Siyyid-i-‘Uluvv was at length reduced to recognising the authority of Bahá’u’lláh and acknowledging the superiority of His position. He even went so far as to express repentance for his acts, and to pledge his word that he would never again advocate the theories and principles with which he had identified himself.

It was during that visit to Karbilá that Bahá’u’lláh encountered, as He was walking through the streets, Shaykh Ḥasan-i-Zunúzí, to whom He confided the secret He was destined to reveal at a later time in Baghdád. He found him eagerly searching after the promised Ḥusayn, to whom the Báb had so lovingly referred and whom He had promised he would meet in Karbilá. We have already, in a preceding chapter, narrated the circumstances leading to his meeting with Bahá’u’lláh. From that day, Shaykh Ḥasan became magnetised by the charm of his newly found Master, and would, but for the restraint he was urged to exercise, have proclaimed to the people of Karbilá the return of the promised Ḥusayn whose appearance they were awaiting.

Among those who were made to feel that power was Mírzá Muḥammad-‘Alíy-i-Ṭabíb-i-Zanjání, in whose heart was implanted a seed that was destined to grow and blossom into a faith of such tenacity that the fires of persecution were powerless to quench it. To his devotion, his high-mindedness and singleness of purpose Bahá’u’lláh Himself testified. That faith carried him eventually to the field of martyrdom. The same fate was shared by Mírzá ‘Abdu’l-Vahháb-i-Shírází, son of Ḥájí ‘Abdu’l-Majíd, who owned a shop in Karbilá and who felt the impulse to forsake all his possessions and follow his Master. He was advised, however, not to abandon his work, but to continue to earn his livelihood until such time as he should be summoned to Ṭihrán. Bahá’u’lláh urged him to be patient, and gave him a sum of money wherewith he encouraged him to extend the scope of his business. Unable to concentrate his attention upon his trade, Mírzá ‘Abdu’l-Vahháb hastened to Ṭihrán, where he remained until he was thrown into the dungeon in which his Master was confined and there suffered martyrdom for His sake.

Shaykh ‘Alí-Mírzáy-i-Shírází was likewise attracted to, and remained to his last breath a staunch supporter of, the Cause to which he had been called and which he served with a selflessness and devotion beyond all praise. To friend and stranger alike he recounted his experiences of the marvellous influence the presence of Bahá’u’lláh had had upon him, and enthusiastically described the signs and wonders he had witnessed during and after the days of his conversion.

CHAPTER XXVI

ATTEMPT ON THE SHÁH’S LIFE, AND ITS CONSEQUENCES

THE eighth Naw-Rúz after the Declaration of the Báb, which fell on the twenty-seventh day of the month of Jamádíyu’l-Avval, in the year 1268 A.H., found Bahá’u’lláh still in ‘Iráq, engaged in spreading the teachings, and making firm the foundations, of the New Revelation. Displaying an enthusiasm and ability that recalled His activities in the early days of the Movement in Núr and Mázindarán, He continued to devote Himself to the task of reviving the energies, of organising the forces, and of directing the efforts, of the Báb’s scattered companions. He was the sole light amidst the darkness that encompassed the bewildered disciples who had witnessed, on the one hand, the cruel martyrdom of their beloved Leader and, on the other, the tragic fate of their companions. He alone was able to inspire them with the needful courage and fortitude to endure the many afflictions that had been heaped upon them; He alone was capable of preparing them for the burden of the task they were destined to bear, and of inuring them to brave the storm and perils they were soon to face.

Death of the Amír-Niẓám

In the course of the spring of that year, Mírzá Taqí Khán, the Amír-Niẓám, the Grand Vazír of Náṣiri’d-Dín Sháh, who had been guilty of such infamous outrages against the Báb and His companions, met his death in a public bath in Fín, near Káshán, having miserably failed to stay the onrush of the Faith he had striven so desperately to crush. His own fame and honour were destined eventually to perish with his death, and not the influence of the life he had sought to extinguish. During the three years when he held the post of Grand Vazír of Persia, his ministry was stained with deeds of blackest infamy. What atrocities did not his hands commit as they were stretched forth to tear down the fabric the Báb had raised! To what treacherous measures did he not resort, in his impotent rage, in order to sap the vitality of a Cause which he feared and hated! The first year of his administration was marked by the ferocious onslaught of the imperial army of Náṣiri’d-Dín Sháh against the defenders of the fort of Ṭabarsí. With what ruthlessness he conducted the campaign of repression against those innocent upholders of the Faith of God! What fury and eloquence he displayed in pleading for the extermination of the lives of Quddús, of Mullá Ḥusayn, and of three hundred and thirteen of the best and noblest of his countrymen! The second year of his ministry found him battling with savage determination to extirpate the Faith in the capital. It was he who authorised and encouraged the capture of the believers who resided in that city, and who ordered the execution of the Seven Martyrs of Ṭihrán. It was he who unchained the offensive against Vaḥíd and his companions, who inspired that campaign of revenge which animated their persecutors, and who instigated them to commit the abominations with which that episode will for ever remain associated. That same year witnessed another blow more terrible than any he had hitherto dealt that persecuted community, a blow that brought to a tragic end the life of Him who was the Source of all the forces he had in vain sought to repress. The last years of that Vazír’s life will for ever remain associated with the most revolting of the vast campaigns which his ingenious mind had devised, a campaign that involved the destruction of the lives of Ḥujjat and of no less than eighteen hundred of his companions. Such were the distinguishing features of a career that began and ended in a reign of terror such as Persia had seldom seen.

VILLAGE OF AFCHIH, NEAR ṬIHRÁN. THE HOUSE OF BAHÁ’U’LLÁH IS SEEN THROUGH THE TREES (LEFT REAR)VILLAGE OF AFCHIH, NEAR ṬIHRÁN. THE HOUSE OF BAHÁ’U’LLÁH IS
SEEN THROUGH THE TREES (LEFT REAR)

BAHÁ’U’LLÁH’S HOUSE IN AFCHIH, NEAR ṬIHRÁNBAHÁ’U’LLÁH’S HOUSE IN AFCHIH, NEAR ṬIHRÁN

Bahá’u’lláh’s return to Ṭihrán

He was succeeded by Mírzá Áqá Khán-i-Núrí, who endeavoured, at the very outset of his ministry, to effect a reconciliation between the government of which he was the head and Bahá’u’lláh, whom he regarded as the most capable of the Báb’s disciples. He sent Him a warm letter requesting Him to return to Ṭihrán, and expressing his eagerness to meet Him. Ere the receipt of that letter, Bahá’u’lláh had already decided to leave ‘Iráq for Persia.

MURGH-MAḤALLIH, BAHÁ’U’LLÁH’S SUMMER RESIDENCE IN SHIMÍRÁNMURGH-MAḤALLIH, BAHÁ’U’LLÁH’S SUMMER RESIDENCE IN
SHIMÍRÁN

He arrived in the capital in the month of Rajab, and was welcomed by the Grand Vazír’s brother, Ja‘far-Qulí Khán, who had been specially directed to go forth to receive Him. For one whole month, He was the honoured Guest of the Grand Vazír, who had appointed his brother to act as host on his behalf. So great was the number of the notables and dignitaries of the capital who flocked to meet Him that He found Himself unable to return to His own home. He remained in that house until His departure for Shimírán.

Bahá’u’lláh’s meeting with ‘Aẓím

I have heard it stated by Áqáy-i-Kalím that in the course of that journey Bahá’u’lláh was able to meet ‘Aẓím, who had been endeavouring for a long time to see Him, and who in that interview was advised, in the most emphatic terms, to abandon the plan he had conceived. Bahá’u’lláh condemned his designs, dissociated Himself entirely from the act it was his intention to commit, and warned him that such an attempt would precipitate fresh disasters of unprecedented magnitude.

Attempt on the Sháh’s life

Bahá’u’lláh proceeded to Lavásán, and was staying in the village of Afchih, the property of the Grand Vazír, when the news of the attempt on the life of Náṣiri’d-Dín Sháh reached Him. Ja‘far-Qulí Khán was still acting as His host on behalf of the Amír-Niẓám. That criminal act was committed towards the end of the month of Shavvál, in the year 1268 A.H., by two obscure and irresponsible young men, one named Ṣádiq-i-Tabrízí, the other Fatḥu’lláh-i-Qumí, both of whom earned their livelihood in Ṭihrán. At a time when the imperial army, headed by the Sháh himself, had encamped in Shimírán, these two ignorant youths, in a frenzy of despair, arose to avenge the blood of their slaughtered brethren. The folly that characterised their act was betrayed by the fact that in making such an attempt on the life of their sovereign, instead of employing effective weapons which would ensure the success of their venture, these youths charged their pistols with shot which no reasonable person would ever think of using for such a purpose. Had their action been instigated by a man of judgment and common sense, he would certainly never have allowed them to carry out their intention with such ridiculously ineffective instruments.

That act, though committed by wild and feeble-minded fanatics, and in spite of its being from the very first emphatically condemned by no less responsible a person than Bahá’u’lláh, was the signal for the outbreak of a series of persecutions and massacres of such barbarous ferocity as could be compared only to the atrocities of Mázindarán and Zanján. The storm to which that act gave rise plunged the whole of Ṭihrán into consternation and distress. It involved the life of the leading companions who had survived the calamities to which their Faith had been so cruelly and repeatedly subjected. That storm was still raging when Bahá’u’lláh, with some of His ablest lieutenants, was plunged into a filthy, dark, and fever-stricken dungeon, whilst chains of such weight as only notorious criminals were condemned to carry, were placed upon His neck. For no less than four months He bore the burden, and such was the intensity of His suffering that the marks of that cruelty remained imprinted upon His body all the days of His life.

So grave a menace to their sovereign and to the institutions of his realm stirred the indignation of the entire body of the ecclesiastical order of Persia. To them so bold a deed called for immediate and condign punishment. Measures of unprecedented severity, they clamoured, should be undertaken to stem the tide that was engulfing both the government and the Faith of Islám. Despite the restraint which the followers of the Báb had exercised ever since the inception of the Faith in every part of the land; despite the repeated charges of the chief disciples to their brethren enjoining them to refrain from acts of violence, to obey their government loyally, and to disclaim any intention of a holy war, their enemies persevered in their deliberate efforts to misrepresent the nature and purpose of that Faith to the authorities. Now that an act of such momentous consequences had been committed, what accusations would not these same enemies be prompted to attribute to the Cause with which those guilty of the crime had been associated! The moment seemed to have come when they could at last awaken the rulers of the country to the necessity of extirpating as speedily as possible a heresy which seemed to threaten the very foundations of the State.

VIEW OF NÍYÁVARÁN NEAR ṬIHRÁNVIEW OF NÍYÁVARÁN NEAR ṬIHRÁN

Ja‘far-Qulí Khán, who was in Shimírán when the attempt on the Sháh’s life was made, immediately wrote a letter to Bahá’u’lláh and acquainted Him with what had happened. “The Sháh’s mother,” he wrote, “is inflamed with anger. She is denouncing you openly before the court and people as the ‘would-be murderer’ of her son. She is also trying to involve Mírzá Áqá Khán in this affair, and accuses him of being your accomplice.” He urged Bahá’u’lláh to remain for a time concealed in that neighbourhood, until the passion of the populace had subsided. He despatched to Afchih an old and experienced messenger whom he ordered to be at the disposal of his Guest and to hold himself in readiness to accompany Him to whatever place of safety He might desire.

Bahá’u’lláh refused to avail Himself of the opportunity Ja‘far-Qulí Khán offered Him. Ignoring the messenger and rejecting his offer, He rode out, the next morning, with calm confidence, from Lavásán, where He was sojourning, to the headquarters of the imperial army, which was then stationed in Níyávarán, in the Shimírán district. Arriving at the village of Zarkandih, the seat of the Russian legation, which lay at a distance of one maydán from Níyávarán, He was met by Mírzá Majíd, His brother-in-law, who acted as secretary to the Russian minister, and was invited by him to stay at his home, which adjoined that of his superior. The attendants of Ḥájí ‘Alí Khán, the Ḥájibu’d-Dawlih, recognised Him and went straightway to inform their master, who in turn brought the matter to the attention of the Sháh.

The news of the arrival of Bahá’u’lláh greatly surprised the officers of the imperial army. Náṣiri’d-Dín Sháh himself was amazed at the bold and unexpected step which a man who was accused of being the chief instigator of the attempt upon his life had taken. He immediately sent one of his trusted officers to the legation, demanding that the Accused be delivered into his hands. The Russian minister refused, and requested Bahá’u’lláh to proceed to the home of Mírzá Áqá Khán, the Grand Vazír, a place he thought to be the most appropriate under the circumstances. His request was granted, whereupon the minister formally communicated to the Grand Vazír his desire that the utmost care should be exercised to ensure the safety and protection of the Trust his government was delivering into his keeping, warning him that he would hold him responsible should he fail to disregard his wishes.

Mírzá Áqá Khán, though he undertook to give the fullest assurances that were required, and received Bahá’u’lláh with every mark of respect into his home, was, however, too apprehensive for the safety of his own position to accord his Guest the treatment he was expected to extend.

THE RUSSIAN LEGATION IN THE VILLAGE OF ZARKANDIHTHE RUSSIAN LEGATION IN THE VILLAGE OF ZARKANDIH

As Bahá’u’lláh was leaving the village of Zarkandih, the minister’s daughter, who felt greatly distressed at the dangers which beset His life, was so overcome with emotion that she was unable to restrain her tears. “Of what use,” she was heard expostulating with her father, “is the authority with which you have been invested, if you are powerless to extend your protection to a guest whom you have received in your house?” The minister, who had a great affection for his daughter, was moved by the sight of her tears, and sought to comfort her by his assurances that he would do all in his power to avert the danger that threatened the life of Bahá’u’lláh.

That day the army of Náṣiri’d-Dín Sháh was thrown into a state of violent tumult. The peremptory orders of the sovereign, following so closely upon the attempt on his life, gave rise to the wildest rumours and excited the fiercest passions in the hearts of the people of the neighbourhood. The agitation spread to Ṭihrán and fanned into flaming fury the smouldering embers of hatred which the enemies of the Cause still nourished in their hearts. Confusion, unprecedented in its range, reigned in the capital. A word of denunciation, a sign, or a whisper was sufficient to subject the innocent to a persecution which no pen dare try to describe. Security of life and property had completely vanished. The highest ecclesiastical authorities in the capital joined hands with the most influential members of the government to deal what they hoped would be the fatal blow to a foe who, for eight years, had so gravely shaken the peace of the land, and whom no cunning or violence had yet been able to silence.

Bahá’u’lláh, now that the Báb was no more, appeared in their eyes to be the arch-foe whom they deemed it their first duty to seize and imprison. To them He was the reincarnation of the Spirit the Báb had so powerfully manifested, the Spirit through which He had been able to accomplish so complete a transformation in the lives and habits of His countrymen. The precautions the Russian minister had taken, and the warning he had uttered, failed to stay the hand that had been outstretched with such determination against that precious Life.

Bahá’u’lláh’s imprisonment in the Síyáh-Chál

From Shimírán to Ṭihrán, Bahá’u’lláh was several times stripped of His garments, and was overwhelmed with abuse and ridicule. On foot and exposed to the fierce rays of the midsummer sun, He was compelled to cover, barefooted and bareheaded, the whole distance from Shimírán to the dungeon already referred to. All along the route, He was pelted and vilified by the crowds whom His enemies had succeeded in convincing that He was the sworn enemy of their sovereign and the wrecker of his realm. Words fail me to portray the horror of the treatment which was meted out to Him as He was being taken to the Síyáh-Chál of Ṭihrán. As He was approaching the dungeon, an old and decrepit woman was seen to emerge from the midst of the crowd, with a stone in her hand, eager to cast it at the face of Bahá’u’lláh. Her eyes glowed with a determination and fanaticism of which few women of her age were capable. Her whole frame shook with rage as she stepped forward and raised her hand to hurl her missile at Him. “By the Siyyidu’sh-Shuhadá, I adjure you,” she pleaded, as she ran to overtake those into whose hands Bahá’u’lláh had been delivered, “give me a chance to fling my stone in his face!” “Suffer not this woman to be disappointed,” were Bahá’u’lláh’s words to His guards, as He saw her hastening behind Him. “Deny her not what she regards as a meritorious act in the sight of God.”

SOUTHERN PART OF ṬIHRÁN WHERE CRIMINALS WERE HANGED AND WHERE MANY BAHÁ’Í MARTYRDOMS TOOK PLACE (MARK X INDICATES SITE OF SÍYÁH-CHÁL)SOUTHERN PART OF ṬIHRÁN WHERE CRIMINALS WERE HANGED AND
WHERE MANY BAHÁ’Í MARTYRDOMS TOOK PLACE (MARK X
INDICATES SITE OF SÍYÁH-CHÁL)

The Síyáh-Chál, into which Bahá’u’lláh was thrown, originally a reservoir of water for one of the public baths of Ṭihrán, was a subterranean dungeon in which criminals of the worst type were wont to be confined. The darkness, the filth, and the character of the prisoners, combined to make of that pestilential dungeon the most abominable place to which human beings could be condemned. His feet were placed in stocks, and around His neck were fastened the Qará-Guhar chains, infamous throughout Persia for their galling weight. For three days and three nights, no manner of food or drink was given to Bahá’u’lláh. Rest and sleep were both impossible to Him. The place was infested with vermin, and the stench of that gloomy abode was enough to crush the very spirits of those who were condemned to suffer its horrors. Such were the conditions under which He was held down that even one of the executioners who were watching over Him was moved with pity. Several times this man attempted to induce Him to take some tea which he had managed to introduce into the dungeon under the cover of his garments. Bahá’u’lláh, however, would refuse to drink it. His family often endeavoured to persuade the guards to allow them to carry the food they had prepared for Him into His prison. Though at first no amount of pleading would induce the guards to relax the severity of their discipline, yet gradually they yielded to His friends’ importunity. No one could be sure, however, whether that food would eventually reach Him, or whether He would consent to eat it whilst a number of His fellow-prisoners were starving before His eyes. Surely greater misery than had befallen these innocent victims of the wrath of their sovereign, could hardly be imagined.

Fate of would-be murderers

As to the youth Ṣádiq-i-Tabrízí, the fate he suffered was as cruel as it was humiliating. He was seized at the moment he was rushing towards the Sháh, whom he had thrown from his horse, hoping to strike him with the sword he held in his hand. The Sháṭir-Báshí, together with the Mustawfíyu’l-Mamálik’s attendants, fell upon him and, without attempting to learn who he was, slew him on the spot. Wishing to allay the excitement of the populace, they hewed his body into two halves, each of which they suspended to the public gaze at the entrance of the gates of Shimírán and Sháh-‘Abdu’l-‘Aẓím. His two other companions, Fatḥu’lláh-i-Ḥakkák-i-Qumí and Ḥájí Qásim-i-Nayrízí, who had succeeded in inflicting only slight wounds on the Sháh, were subjected to inhuman treatment, to which they ultimately owed their death. Fatḥu’lláh, though suffering unspeakable cruelties, obstinately refused to answer the questions they asked him. The silence he maintained in the face of manifold tortures, induced his persecutors to believe that he was devoid of the power of speech. Exasperated by the failure of their efforts, they poured molten lead down his throat, an act which brought his sufferings to an end.

BAHÁ’Í FAMILY MARTYRED IN PERSIABAHÁ’Í FAMILY MARTYRED IN PERSIA

Reign of terror

His comrade, Ḥájí Qásim, was treated with a savagery still more revolting. On the very day Ḥájí Sulaymán Khán was being subjected to that terrible ordeal, this poor wretch was receiving similar treatment at the hands of his persecutors in Shimírán. He was stripped of his clothes, lighted candles were thrust into holes driven into his flesh, and he was thus paraded before the eyes of a multitude who yelled and cursed him. The spirit of revenge that animated those into whose hands he was delivered seemed insatiable. Day after day fresh victims were forced to expiate with their blood a crime which they had never committed, and of the circumstances of which they were wholly ignorant. Every ingenious device that the torture-mongers of Ṭihrán could employ was applied with merciless severity to the bodies of these unfortunate ones who were neither brought to trial nor questioned, and whose right to plead and prove their innocence was entirely ignored.

BELIEVERS GATHERED AROUND THE BODY OF A MARTYRBELIEVERS GATHERED AROUND THE BODY OF A MARTYR

Each of those days of terror witnessed the martyrdom of two companions of the Báb, one of whom was slain in Ṭihrán, whilst the other met his fate in Shimírán. Both were subjected to the same manner of torture, both were handed over to the public to wreak their vengeance upon them. Those arrested were distributed among the various classes of people, whose messengers would visit the dungeon each day and claim their victim. Conducting him to the scene of his death, they would give the signal for a general attack upon him, whereupon men and women would close upon their prey, tear his body to pieces, and so mutilate it that no trace of its original form would remain. Such ruthlessness amazed even the most brutal of the executioners, whose hands, however much accustomed to human slaughter, had never perpetrated the atrocities of which those people had proved themselves capable.

Reference to Ḥájí Sulaymán Khán

Of all the tortures which an insatiable enemy inflicted upon its victims, none was more revolting in its character than that which characterised the death of Ḥájí Sulaymán Khán. He was the son of Yaḥyá Khán, one of the officers in the service of the Náyibu’s-Salṭanih, who was the father of Muḥammad Sháh. He retained that same position in the early days of the reign of Muḥammad Sháh. Ḥájí Sulaymán Khán showed from his earliest years a marked disinclination to rank and office. Ever since the day of his acceptance of the Cause of the Báb, the petty pursuits in which the people around him were immersed excited his pity and contempt. The vanity of their ambitions had been abundantly demonstrated in his eyes. In his early youth, he felt a longing to escape from the turmoil of the capital and to seek refuge in the holy city of Karbilá. There he met Siyyid Káẓim and grew to be one of his most ardent supporters. His sincere piety, his frugality and love of seclusion were among the chief traits of his character. He tarried in Karbilá until the day when the Call from Shíráz reached him through Mullá Yúsuf-i-Ardibílí and Mullá Mihdíy-i-Khu’í, both of whom were among his best-known friends. He enthusiastically embraced the Message of the Báb. He had intended, upon his return from Karbilá to Ṭihrán, to join the defenders of the fort of Ṭabarsí, but arrived too late to achieve his purpose. He remained in the capital and continued to wear the kind of dress he had adopted in Karbilá. The small turban he wore, and the white tunic which his black ‘abá concealed, were displeasing to the Amír-Niẓám, who induced him to discard these garments and to clothe himself instead in a military uniform. He was made to wear the kuláh, a head-dress that was thought to be more in accordance with the rank his father held. Though the Amír insisted that he should accept a position in the service of the government, he obstinately refused to comply with his request. Most of his time was spent in the company of the disciples of the Báb, particularly those of His companions who had survived the struggle of Ṭabarsí. He surrounded them with a care and kindness truly surprising. He and his father were so influential that the Amír-Niẓám was induced to spare his life and indeed to refrain from any acts of violence against him. Though he was present in Ṭihrán when the seven companions of the Báb, with whom he was intimately associated, were martyred, neither the officials of the government nor any of the common people ventured to demand his arrest. Even in Tabríz, whither he had journeyed for the purpose of saving the life of the Báb, not one among the inhabitants of that city dared to lift a finger against him. The Amír-Niẓám, who was duly informed of all his services to the Cause of the Báb, preferred to ignore his acts rather than precipitate a conflict with him and his father.

Reference to the Amír-Niẓám’s repentance

Soon after the martyrdom of a certain Mullá Zaynu’l-‘Ábidín-i-Yazdí, a rumour was spread that those whom the government intended to put to death, among whom were Siyyid Ḥusayn, the Báb’s amanuensis, and Ṭáhirih, were to be released and that further persecution of their friends was to be definitely abandoned. It was reported far and wide that the Amír-Niẓám, deeming the hour of his death to be approaching, had been seized suddenly with a great fear and, in an agony of repentance, had exclaimed: “I am haunted by the vision of the Siyyid-i-Báb, whom I have caused to be martyred. I can now see the fearful mistake I have made. I should have restrained the violence of those who pressed me to shed his blood and that of his companions. I now perceive that the interests of the State required it.” His successor, Mírzá Áqá Khán, was similarly inclined in the early days of his administration, and was intending to inaugurate his ministry with a lasting reconciliation between him and the followers of the Báb. He was preparing to undertake that task when the attempt on the life of the Sháh shattered his plans and threw the capital into a state of unprecedented confusion.

Incident related by the Most Great Branch

I have heard the Most Great Branch, who in those days was a child of only eight years of age, recount one of His experiences as He ventured to leave the house in which He was then residing. “We had sought shelter,” He told us, “in the house of My uncle, Mírzá Ismá‘íl. Ṭihrán was in the throes of the wildest excitement. I ventured at times to sally forth from that house and to cross the street on My way to the market. I would hardly cross the threshold and step into the street, when boys of My age, who were running about, would crowd around Me crying, ‘Bábí! Bábí.’ Knowing well the state of excitement into which all the inhabitants of the capital, both young and old, had fallen, I would deliberately ignore their clamour and quietly steal away to My home. One day I happened to be walking alone through the market on My way to My uncle’s house. As I was looking behind Me, I found a band of little ruffians running fast to overtake Me. They were pelting Me with stones and shouting menacingly, ‘Bábí! Bábí!’ To intimidate them seemed to be the only way I could avert the danger with which I was threatened. I turned back and rushed towards them with such determination that they fled away in distress and vanished. I could hear their distant cry, ‘The little Bábí is fast pursuing us! He will surely overtake and slay us all!’ As I was directing My steps towards home, I heard a man shouting at the top of his voice: ‘Well done, you brave and fearless child! No one of your age would ever have been able, unaided, to withstand their attack.’ From that day onward, I was never again molested by any of the boys of the streets, nor did I hear any offensive word fall from their lips.”

Ḥájí Sulaymán Khán’s martyrdom

Among those who, in the midst of the general confusion, were seized and thrown into prison was Ḥájí Sulaymán Khán, the circumstances of whose martyrdom I now proceed to relate. The facts I mention have been carefully sifted and verified by me, and I owe them, for the most part, to Áqáy-i-Kalím, who was himself in those days in Ṭihrán and was made to share the terrors and sufferings of his brethren. “On the very day of Ḥájí Sulaymán Khán’s martyrdom,” he informed me, “I happened to be present, with Mírzá ‘Abdu’l-Majíd, at a gathering in Ṭihrán at which a considerable number of the notables and dignitaries of the capital were present. Among them was Ḥájí Mullá Maḥmúd, the Niẓámu’l-‘Ulamá’, who requested the Kalantar to describe the actual circumstances of the death of Ḥájí Sulaymán Khán. The Kalantar motioned with his finger to Mírzá Taqí, the kad-khudá who, he said, had conducted the victim from the vicinity of the imperial palace to the place of his execution, outside the gate of Naw. Mírzá Taqí was accordingly requested to relate to those present all that he had seen and heard. ‘I and my assistants,’ he said, ‘were ordered to purchase nine candles and to thrust them, ourselves, into deep holes we were to cut in his flesh. We were instructed to light each one of these candles and to conduct him through the market to the accompaniment of drums and trumpets as far as the place of his execution. There we were ordered to hew his body into two halves, each of which we were asked to suspend on either side of the gate of Naw. He himself chose the manner in which he wished to be martyred. Ḥájibu’d-Dawlih had been commanded by Náṣiri’d-Dín Sháh to enquire into the complicity of the accused, and, if assured of his innocence, to induce him to recant. If he submitted, his life was to be spared and he was to be detained pending the final settlement of his case. In the event of his refusal, he was to be put to death in whatever manner he himself might desire.

“‘The investigation of Ḥájibu’d-Dawlih convinced him of the innocence of Ḥájí Sulaymán Khán. The accused, as soon as he had been informed of the instructions of his sovereign, was heard joyously exclaiming: “Never, so long as my life-blood continues to pulsate in my veins, shall I be willing to recant my faith in my Beloved! This world which the Commander of the Faithful has likened to carrion will never allure me from my heart’s Desire.” He was asked to determine the manner in which he wished to die. “Pierce holes in my flesh,” was the instant reply, “and in each wound place a candle. Let nine candles be lighted all over my body, and in this state conduct me through the streets of Ṭihrán. Summon the multitude to witness the glory of my martyrdom, so that the memory of my death may remain imprinted in their hearts and help them, as they recall the intensity of my tribulation, to recognise the Light I have embraced. After I have reached the foot of the gallows and have uttered the last prayer of my earthly life, cleave my body in twain and suspend my limbs on either side of the gate of Ṭihrán, that the multitude passing beneath it may witness to the love which the Faith of the Báb has kindled in the hearts of His disciples, and may look upon the proofs of their devotion.”

“‘Ḥájibu’d-Dawlih instructed his men to abide by the expressed wishes of Ḥájí Sulaymán Khán, and charged me to conduct him through the market as far as the place of his execution. As they handed to the victim the candles they had purchased, and were preparing to thrust their knives into his breast, he made a sudden attempt to seize the weapon from the executioner’s trembling hands in order to plunge it himself into his flesh. “Why fear and hesitate?” he cried, as he stretched forth his arm to snatch the knife from his grasp. “Let me myself perform the deed and light the candles.” Fearing lest he should attack us, I ordered my men to resist his attempt and bade them tie his hands behind his back. “Let me,” he pleaded, “point out with my fingers the places into which I wish them to thrust their dagger, for I have no other request to make besides this.”

“‘He asked them to pierce two holes in his breast, two in his shoulders, one in the nape of his neck, and the four others in his back. With stoic calm he endured those tortures. Steadfastness glowed in his eyes as he maintained a mysterious and unbroken silence. Neither the howling of the multitude nor the sight of the blood that streamed all over his body could induce him to interrupt that silence. Impassive and serene he remained until all the nine candles were placed in position and lighted.

“‘When all was completed for his march to the scene of his death, he, standing erect as an arrow and with that same unflinching fortitude gleaming upon his face, stepped forward to lead the concourse that was pressing round him to the place that was to witness the consummation of his martyrdom. Every few steps he would interrupt his march and, gazing at the bewildered bystanders, would shout: “What greater pomp and pageantry than those which this day accompany my progress to win the crown of glory! Glorified be the Báb, who can kindle such devotion in the breasts of His lovers, and can endow them with a power greater than the might of kings!” At times, as if intoxicated with the fervour of that devotion, he would exclaim: “The Abraham of a bygone age, as He prayed God, in the hour of bitter agony, to send down upon Him the refreshment for which His soul was crying, heard the voice of the Unseen proclaim: ‘O fire! Be thou cold, and to Abraham a safety!’ But this Sulaymán is crying out from the depths of his ravaged heart: ‘Lord, Lord, let Thy fire burn unceasingly within me, and suffer its flame to consume my being.’” As his eyes saw the wax flicker in his wounds, he burst forth in an acclamation of frantic delight: “Would that He whose hand has enkindled my soul were here to behold my state!” “Think me not to be intoxicated with the wine of this earth!” he cried to the vast throng who stood aghast at the sight of his behaviour. “It is the love of my Beloved that has filled my soul and made me feel endowed with a sovereignty which even kings might envy!”

“‘I cannot recall the exclamations of joy which fell from his lips as he drew near to his end. All I remember are but a few of the stirring words which, in his moments of exultation, he was moved to cry out to the concourse of spectators. Words fail me to portray the expression of that countenance or to measure the effect of his words on the multitude.

“‘He was still in the bazaar when the blowing of a breeze excited the burning of the candles that were placed upon his breast. As they melted rapidly, their flames reached the level of the wounds into which they had been thrust. We who were following a few steps behind him could hear distinctly the sizzling of his flesh. The sight of gore and fire which covered his body, instead of silencing his voice, appeared to heighten his unquenchable enthusiasm. He could still be heard, this time addressing the flames, as they ate into his wounds: “You have long lost your sting, O flames, and have been robbed of your power to pain me. Make haste, for from your very tongues of fire I can hear the voice that calls me to my Beloved!”

“‘Pain and suffering seemed to have melted away in the ardour of that enthusiasm. Enveloped by the flames, he walked as a conqueror might have marched to the scene of his victory. He moved through the excited crowd a blaze of light amidst the gloom that surrounded him. Arriving at the foot of the gallows, he again raised his voice in a last appeal to the multitude of onlookers: “Did not this Sulaymán whom you now see before you a prey to fire and blood, enjoy until recently all the favours and riches the world can bestow? What could have caused him to renounce this earthly glory and accept in return such great degradation and suffering?” Prostrating himself in the direction of the shrine of the Imám-Zádih Ḥasan, he murmured certain words in Arabic which I could not understand. “My work is now finished!” he cried to the executioner, as soon as his prayer was ended. “Come and do yours!” He was still alive when his body was hewn into two halves with a hatchet. The praise of his Beloved, despite such incredible sufferings, lingered upon his lips until the last moment of his life.’

“That tragic tale stirred the listeners to the very depths of their souls. The Niẓámu’l-‘Ulamá’, who was listening intently to all its details, wrung his hands in horror and despair. ‘How strange, how very strange, is this Cause!’ he exclaimed. Without adding a further word of comment, he, immediately after, arose and departed.”

Ṭáhirih’s martyrdom

Those days of unceasing turmoil witnessed the martyrdom of yet another eminent disciple of the Báb. A woman, no less great and heroic than Ṭáhirih herself, was engulfed in the storm that was then raging with undiminished violence throughout the capital. What I now begin to relate regarding the circumstances of her martyrdom has been obtained from trustworthy informants, some of whom were themselves witnesses of the events I am attempting to describe. Her stay in Ṭihrán was marked by many proofs of the warm affection and high esteem in which she was held by the leading women of the capital. She had reached, indeed, in those days, the high-water mark of her popularity. The house where she was confined was besieged by her women admirers, who thronged her doors, eager to enter her presence and to seek the benefit of her knowledge. Among these ladies, the wife of Kalantar distinguished herself by the extreme reverence she showed to Ṭáhirih. Acting as her hostess, she introduced into her presence the flower of womanhood in Ṭihrán, served her with extraordinary enthusiasm, and never failed to contribute her share in deepening her influence among her womenfolk. Persons with whom the wife of Kalantar was intimately connected have heard her relate the following: “One night, whilst Ṭáhirih was staying in my home, I was summoned to her presence and found her fully adorned, dressed in a gown of snow-white silk. Her room was redolent with the choicest perfume. I expressed to her my surprise at so unusual a sight. ‘I am preparing to meet my Beloved,’ she said, ‘and wish to free you from the cares and anxieties of my imprisonment.’ I was much startled at first, and wept at the thought of separation from her. ‘Weep not,’ she sought to reassure me. ‘The time of your lamentation is not yet come. I wish to share with you my last wishes, for the hour when I shall be arrested and condemned to suffer martyrdom is fast approaching. I would request you to allow your son to accompany me to the scene of my death and to ensure that the guards and executioner into whose hands I shall be delivered will not compel me to divest myself of this attire. It is also my wish that my body be thrown into a pit, and that that pit be filled with earth and stones. Three days after my death a woman will come and visit you, to whom you will give this package which I now deliver into your hands. My last request is that you permit no one henceforth to enter my chamber. From now until the time when I shall be summoned to leave this house, let no one be allowed to disturb my devotions. This day I intend to fast — a fast which I shall not break until I am brought face to face with my Beloved.’ She bade me, with these words, lock the door of her chamber and not open it until the hour of her departure should strike. She also urged me to keep secret the tidings of her death until such time as her enemies should themselves disclose it.

THE HOUSE OF THE KALANTAR IN ṬIHRÁN, WHERE ṬÁHIRIH WAS CONFINED (UPPER ROOM BEHIND TREE IS THE ONE SHE OCCUPIED)THE HOUSE OF THE KALANTAR IN ṬIHRÁN, WHERE ṬÁHIRIH WAS
CONFINED (UPPER ROOM BEHIND TREE IS THE ONE SHE OCCUPIED)

“The great love I cherished for her in my heart, alone enabled me to abide by her instructions. But for the compelling desire I felt to fulfil her wishes, I would never have consented to deprive myself of one moment of her presence. I locked the door of her chamber and retired to my own, in a state of uncontrollable sorrow. I lay sleepless and disconsolate upon my bed. The thought of her approaching martyrdom lacerated my soul. ‘Lord, Lord,’ I prayed in my despair, ‘turn from her, if it be Thy wish, the cup which her lips desire to drink.’ That day and night, I several times, unable to contain myself, arose and stole away to the threshold of that room and stood silently at her door, eager to listen to whatever might be falling from her lips. I was enchanted by the melody of that voice which intoned the praise of her Beloved. I could hardly remain standing upon my feet, so great was my agitation. Four hours after sunset, I heard a knocking at the door. I hastened immediately to my son, and acquainted him with the wishes of Ṭáhirih. He pledged his word that he would fulfil every instruction she had given me. It chanced that night that my husband was absent. My son, who opened the door, informed me that the farráshes of ‘Azíz Khán-i-Sardár were standing at the gate, demanding that Ṭáhirih be immediately delivered into their hands. I was struck with terror by the news, and, as I tottered to her door and with trembling hands unlocked it, found her veiled and prepared to leave her apartment. She was pacing the floor when I entered, and was chanting a litany expressive of both grief and triumph. As soon as she saw me, she approached and kissed me. She placed in my hand the key to her chest, in which she said she had left for me a few trivial things as a remembrance of her stay in my house. ‘Whenever you open this chest,’ she said, ‘and behold the things it contains, you will, I hope, remember me and rejoice in my gladness.’

COSTUME WORN BY THE PERSIAN LADIES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURYCOSTUME WORN BY THE PERSIAN LADIES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE
NINETEENTH CENTURY

“With these words she bade me her last farewell, and, accompanied by my son, disappeared from before my eyes. What pangs of anguish I felt that moment, as I beheld her beauteous form gradually fade away in the distance! She mounted the steed which the Sardár had sent for her, and, escorted by my son and a number of attendants, who marched on each side of her, rode out to the garden that was to be the scene of her martyrdom.

“Three hours later my son returned, his face drenched with tears, hurling imprecations at the Sardár and his abject lieutenants. I tried to calm his agitation, and, seating him beside me, asked him to relate as fully as he could the circumstances of her death. ‘Mother,’ he sobbingly replied, ‘I can scarcely attempt to describe what my eyes have beheld. We straightway proceeded to the Ílkhání garden, outside the gate of the city. There I found, to my horror, the Sardár and his lieutenants absorbed in acts of debauchery and shame, flushed with wine and roaring with laughter. Arriving at the gate, Ṭáhirih dismounted and, calling me to her, asked me to act as her intermediary with the Sardár, whom she said she was disinclined to address in the midst of his revelry. ‘They apparently wish to strangle me,’ she said. ‘I set aside, long ago, a silken kerchief which I hoped would be used for this purpose. I deliver it into your hands and wish you to induce that dissolute drunkard to use it as a means whereby he can take my life.’

SITE OF THE GARDEN OF ÍLKHÁNÍ WHERE ṬÁHIRIH WAS MARTYREDSITE OF THE GARDEN OF ÍLKHÁNÍ WHERE ṬÁHIRIH WAS MARTYRED

“When I went to the Sardár, I found him in a state of wretched intoxication. ‘Interrupt not the gaiety of our festival!’ I heard him shout as I approached him. ‘Let that miserable wretch be strangled and her body be thrown into a pit!’ I was greatly surprised at such an order. Believing it unnecessary to venture any request from him, I went to two of his attendants, with whom I was already acquainted, and gave them the kerchief with which Ṭáhirih had entrusted me. They consented to grant her request. That same kerchief was wound round her neck and was made the instrument of her martyrdom. I hastened immediately afterwards to the gardener and asked him whether he could suggest a place where I could conceal the body. He directed me, to my great delight, to a well that had been dug recently and left unfinished. With the help of a few others, I lowered her into her grave and filled the well with earth and stones in the manner she herself had wished. Those who saw her in her last moments were profoundly affected. With downcast eyes and wrapt in silence, they mournfully dispersed, leaving their victim, who had shed so imperishable a lustre upon their country, buried beneath a mass of stones which they, with their own hands, had heaped upon her.

I wept hot tears as my son unfolded to my eyes that tragic tale. I was so overcome with emotion that I fell prostrate and unconscious upon the ground. When I had recovered, I found my son a prey to an agony no less severe than my own. He lay upon his couch, weeping in a passion of devotion. Beholding my plight, he approached and comforted me. ‘Your tears,’ he said, ‘will betray you in the eyes of my father. Considerations of rank and position will, no doubt, induce him to forsake us and sever whatever ties bind him to this home. He will, if we fail to repress our tears, accuse us before Náṣiri’d-Dín Sháh, as victims of the charm of a hateful enemy. He will obtain the sovereign’s consent to our death, and will probably, with his own hands, proceed to slay us. Why should we, who have never embraced that Cause, allow ourselves to suffer such a fate at his hands? All we should do is to defend her against those who denounce her as the very negation of chastity and honour. We should ever treasure her love in our hearts and maintain in the face of a slanderous enemy the integrity of that life.’

“His words allayed my inner agitation. I went to her chest and, with the key she had placed in my hand, opened it. I found a small vial of the choicest perfume, beside which lay a rosary, a coral necklace, and three rings, mounted with turquoise, cornelian, and ruby stones. As I gazed upon her earthly belongings, I mused over the circumstances of her eventful life, and recalled, with a throb of wonder, her intrepid courage, her zeal, her high sense of duty and unquestioning devotion. I was reminded of her literary attainments, and brooded over the imprisonments, the shame, and the calumny which she had faced with a fortitude such as no other woman in her land could manifest. I pictured to myself that winsome face which now, alas, lay buried beneath a mass of earth and stones. The memory of her passionate eloquence warmed my heart, as I repeated to myself the words that had so often dropped from her lips. The consciousness of the vastness of her knowledge, and her mastery of the sacred Scriptures of Islám, flashed through my mind with a suddenness that disconcerted me. Above all, her passionate loyalty to the Faith she had embraced, her fervour as she pleaded its cause, the services she rendered it, the woes and tribulations she endured for its sake, the example she had given to its followers, the impetus she had lent to its advancement, the name she had carved for herself in the hearts of her fellow-countrymen, all these I remembered as I stood beside her chest, wondering what could have induced so great a woman to forsake all the riches and honours with which she had been surrounded and to identify herself with the cause of an obscure youth from Shíráz. What could have been the secret, I thought to myself, of the power that tore her away from her home and kindred, that sustained her throughout her stormy career, and eventually carried her to her grave? Could that force, I pondered, be of God? Could the hand of the Almighty have guided her destiny and steered her course amidst the perils of her life?

“On the third day after her martyrdom, the woman whose coming she had promised arrived. I enquired her name, and, finding it to be the same as the one Ṭáhirih had told me, delivered into her hands the package with which I had been entrusted. I had never before met that woman, nor did I ever see her again.”

The name of that immortal woman was Fáṭimih, a name which her father had bestowed upon her. She was surnamed Umm-i-Salmih by her family and kindred, who also designated her as Zakíyyih. She was born in the year 1233 A.H., the very year which witnessed the birth of Bahá’u’lláh. She was thirty-six years of age when she suffered martyrdom in Ṭihrán. May future generations be enabled to present a worthy account of a life which her contemporaries have failed adequately to recognise. May future historians perceive the full measure of her influence, and record the unique services this great woman has rendered to her land and its people. May the followers of the Faith which she served so well strive to follow her example, recount her deeds, collect her writings, unfold the secret of her talents, and establish her, for all time, in the memory and affections of the peoples and kindreds of the earth.

Siyyid Ḥusayn’s martyrdom

Another distinguished figure among the disciples of the Báb who met his death during the turbulent time that had overwhelmed Ṭihrán was Siyyid Ḥusayn-i-Yazdí, who was the Báb’s amanuensis both in Máh-Kú and Chihríq. Such was his knowledge of the teachings of the Faith that the Báb, in a Tablet addressed to Mírzá Yaḥyá, urged the latter to seek enlightenment from him in whatever might pertain to the sacred writings. A man of standing and experience, in whom the Báb reposed the utmost confidence and with whom he had been intimately associated, he suffered, after the martyrdom of his Master in Tabríz, the agony of a long confinement in the subterranean dungeon of Ṭihrán, which confinement terminated in his martyrdom. To a very great extent, Bahá’u’lláh helped to allay the hardships from which he suffered. Regularly every month He sent him whatever financial assistance he required. He was praised and admired even by the gaolers who watched over him. His long and intimate companionship with the Báb, during the last and stormiest days of His life, had deepened his understanding and endowed his soul with a power which he was destined to manifest more and more as the days of his earthly life drew near to their close. He lay in the prison, longing for the time when he should be called upon to suffer a death similar to that of his Master. Deprived of the privilege of being martyred on the same day as the Báb, a privilege which it had been his supreme desire to attain, he now eagerly awaited the hour when he, in his turn, should drain to the very dregs the cup that had touched His lips. Many a time did the leading officials of Ṭihrán strive to induce him to accept their offer to deliver him from the rigours of his imprisonment, as well as from the prospect of a still more cruel death. He steadfastly refused. Tears flowed unceasingly from his eyes — tears born of his longing to see again that face whose radiance had shone so brightly amidst the darkness of a cruel incarceration in Ádhirbáyján, and whose glow warmed the chill of its wintry nights. As he mused in the gloom of his prison cell over those blissful days spent in the presence of his Master, there came to him One who alone could banish, by the light of His presence, the anguish that had settled upon his soul. His Comforter was none other than Bahá’u’lláh Himself. In His company Siyyid Ḥusayn was privileged to remain until the hour of his death. The hand of ‘Azíz Khán-i-Sardár, which had struck down Ṭáhirih, was the hand that dealt the fatal blow to the Báb’s amanuensis and sometime fellow-prisoner in Ádhirbáyján. I need not expatiate upon the circumstances of the death which that murderous Sardár inflicted upon him. Suffice it to say that he too, like those who went before, drank, in circumstances of shameful cruelty, the cup for which he had so long and so deeply yearned.

Incidents in the Síyáh-Chál, as related by Bahá’u’lláh

I now proceed to relate what befell the remaining companions of the Báb, those who had been privileged to share the horrors of the confinement with Bahá’u’lláh. From His own lips I have often heard the following account: “All those who were struck down by the storm that raged during that memorable year in Ṭihrán were Our fellow-prisoners in the Síyáh-Chál, where We were confined. We were all huddled together in one cell, our feet in stocks, and around our necks fastened the most galling of chains. The air we breathed was laden with the foulest impurities, while the floor on which we sat was covered with filth and infested with vermin. No ray of light was allowed to penetrate that pestilential dungeon or to warm its icy-coldness. We were placed in two rows, each facing the other. We had taught them to repeat certain verses which, every night, they chanted with extreme fervour. ‘God is sufficient unto me; He verily is the All-sufficing!’ one row would intone, while the other would reply: ‘In Him let the trusting trust.’ The chorus of these gladsome voices would continue to peal out until the early hours of the morning. Their reverberation would fill the dungeon, and, piercing its massive walls, would reach the ears of Náṣiri’d-Dín Sháh, whose palace was not far distant from the place where we were imprisoned. ‘What means this sound?’ he was reported to have exclaimed. ‘It is the anthem the Bábís are intoning in their prison,’ they replied. The Sháh made no further remarks, nor did he attempt to restrain the enthusiasm his prisoners, despite the horrors of their confinement, continued to display.

“One day, there was brought to Our prison a tray of roasted meat, which they informed Us the Sháh had ordered to be distributed among the prisoners. ‘The Sháh,’ We were told, ‘faithful to a vow he made, has chosen this day to offer to you all this lamb in fulfilment of his pledge.’ A deep silence fell upon Our companions, who expected Us to make answer on their behalf. ‘We return this gift to you,’ We replied; ‘we can well dispense with this offer.’ The answer We made would have greatly irritated the guards had they not been eager to devour the food we had refused to touch. Despite the hunger with which Our companions were afflicted, only one among them, a certain Mírzá Ḥusayn-i-Mutavallíy-i-Qumí, showed any desire to eat of the food the sovereign had chosen to spread before us. With a fortitude that was truly heroic, Our fellow-prisoners submitted, without a murmur, to endure the piteous plight to which they were reduced. Praise of God, instead of complaint of the treatment meted out to them by the Sháh, fell unceasingly from their lips — praise with which they sought to beguile the hardships of a cruel captivity.

“Every day Our gaolers, entering Our cell, would call the name of one of Our companions, bidding him arise and follow them to the foot of the gallows. With what eagerness would the owner of that name respond to that solemn call! Relieved of his chains, he would spring to his feet and, in a state of uncontrollable delight, would approach and embrace Us. We would seek to comfort him with the assurance of an everlasting life in the world beyond, and, filling his heart with hope and joy, would send him forth to win the crown of glory. He would embrace, in turn, the rest of his fellow-prisoners and then proceed to die as dauntlessly as he had lived. Soon after the martyrdom of each of these companions, We would be informed by the executioner, who had grown to be friendly to Us, of the circumstances of the death of his victim, and of the joy with which he had endured his sufferings to the very end.

“We were awakened one night, ere break of day, by Mírzá ‘Abdu’l-Vahháb-i-Shírází, who was bound with Us to the same chains. He had left Káẓimayn and followed Us to Ṭihrán, where he was arrested and thrown into prison. He asked Us whether We were awake, and proceeded to relate to Us his dream. ‘I have this night,’ he said, ‘been soaring into a space of infinite vastness and beauty. I seemed to be uplifted on wings that carried me wherever I desired to go. A feeling of rapturous delight filled my soul. I flew in the midst of that immensity with a swiftness and ease that I cannot describe.’ ‘To-day,’ We replied, ‘it will be your turn to sacrifice yourself for this Cause. May you remain firm and steadfast to the end. You will then find yourself soaring in that same limitless space of which you dreamed, traversing with the same ease and swiftness the realm of immortal sovereignty, and gazing with that same rapture upon the Infinite Horizon.’

“That morning saw the gaoler again enter Our cell and call out the name of ‘Abdu’l-Vahháb. Throwing off his chains, he sprang to his feet, embraced each of his fellow-prisoners, and, taking Us into his arms, pressed Us lovingly to his heart. That moment We discovered that he had no shoes to wear. We gave him Our own, and, speaking a last word of encouragement and cheer, sent him forth to the scene of his martyrdom. Later on, his executioner came to Us, praising in glowing language the spirit which that youth had shown. How thankful We were to God for this testimony which the executioner himself had given!”

All this suffering and the cruel revenge the authorities had taken on those who had attempted the life of their sovereign failed to appease the anger of the Sháh’s mother. Day and night she persisted in her vindictive clamour, demanding the execution of Bahá’u’lláh, whom she still regarded as the real author of the crime. “Deliver him to the executioner!” she insistently cried to the authorities. “What greater humiliation than this, that I, who am the mother of the Sháh, should be powerless to inflict upon that criminal the punishment so dastardly an act deserves!” Her cry for vengeance, which an impotent rage served to intensify, was doomed to remain unanswered. Despite her machinations, Bahá’u’lláh was saved from the fate she had so importunately striven to precipitate. The Prisoner was eventually released from His confinement, and was able to unfold and establish, beyond the confines of the kingdom of her son, a sovereignty the possibility of which she could never even have dreamed of. The blood shed in the course of that fateful year in Ṭihrán by that heroic band with whom Bahá’u’lláh had been imprisoned, was the ransom paid for His deliverance from the hand of a foe that sought to prevent Him from achieving the purpose for which God had destined Him. Ever since the time He espoused the Cause of the Báb, He had never neglected one single occasion to champion the Faith He had embraced. He had exposed Himself to the perils which the followers of the Faith had to face in its early days. He was the first of the Báb’s disciples to set the example of renunciation and service to the Cause. Yet His life, beset as it was by the risks and dangers that a career such as His was sure to encounter, was spared by that same Providence who had chosen Him for a task which He, in His wisdom, deemed it as yet too soon to proclaim publicly.

The terror that convulsed Ṭihrán was but one of the many risks and dangers to which Bahá’u’lláh’s life was exposed. Men, women, and children in the capital trembled at the ruthlessness with which the enemy pursued their victims. A youth named ‘Abbás, a former servant of Ḥájí Sulaymán Khán, and fully informed, owing to the wide circle of friends whom his master cultivated, of the names, the number, and the dwelling places of the Báb’s disciples, was employed by the enemy as an instrument ready to hand for the prosecution of its designs. He had identified himself with the Faith of his master, and regarded himself as one of its zealous supporters. At the outset of the turmoil, he was arrested and compelled to betray all those whom he knew to be associated with the Faith. They sought by every manner of reward to induce him to reveal those who were his master’s fellow-disciples, and warned him that, should he refuse to disclose their names, he would be subjected to inhuman tortures. He pledged his word that he would act according to their wishes and would inform the assistants of Ḥájí ‘Alí Khán, the Ḥájibu’d-Dawlih, the Farrásh-Báshí, of their names and abodes. He was taken through the streets of Ṭihrán and directed to point out everyone he recognised as being a follower of the Báb. A number of people whom he had never met and known were in this manner delivered into the hands of Ḥájí ‘Alí Khán’s assistants — people who had never had any connection with the Báb and His Cause. These were able to recover their freedom only after having paid a heavy bribe to those who had captured them. Such was the greed of the Ḥájibu’d-Dawlih’s attendants that they specially requested ‘Abbás to salute as a sign of betrayal every person who he thought would be willing and able to pay large sums for his deliverance. They would even force him to betray such persons, threatening that his refusal would be fraught with grave danger to his own life. They would frequently promise to give him a share of the money they determined to extort from their victims.

Attempts to prove Bahá’u’lláh’s complicity

This ‘Abbás was taken to the Síyáh-Chál and introduced to Bahá’u’lláh, whom he had met previously on several occasions in the company of his master, in the hope that he would betray Him. They promised that the mother of the Sháh would amply reward him for such a betrayal. Every time he was taken into Bahá’u’lláh’s presence, ‘Abbás, after standing a few moments before Him and gazing upon His face, would leave the place, emphatically denying ever having seen Him. Having failed in their efforts, they resorted to poison, in the hope of obtaining the favour of the mother of their sovereign. They were able to intercept the food that their Prisoner was permitted to receive from His home, and mixed with it the poison they hoped would be fatal to Him. This measure, though impairing the health of Bahá’u’lláh for years, failed to achieve its purpose.

The enemy was finally induced to cease regarding Him as the prime mover of that attempt, and decided to transfer the responsibility for this act to ‘Aẓím, whom they now accused of being the real author of the crime. By this means they endeavoured to obtain the favour of the mother of the Sháh, a favour they greatly coveted. Ḥájí ‘Alí Khán was only too happy to second their efforts. As he himself had taken no share in imprisoning Bahá’u’lláh, he seized upon the occasion which offered itself to denounce ‘Aẓím, whom he had already succeeded in arresting, as the chief and responsible instigator.

The Russian minister, who, through one of his agents, was watching the developments of the situation and keeping in close touch with the condition of Bahá’u’lláh, addressed, through his interpreter, a strongly worded message to the Grand Vazír, in which he protested against his action, suggesting that a messenger should proceed, in the company of one of the government’s trusted representatives and of Ḥájibu’d-Dawlih, to the Síyáh-Chál and there ask the newly recognised leader to declare publicly his opinion regarding Bahá’u’lláh’s position. “Whatever that leader may declare,” he wrote, “whether in praise or denunciation, I think ought to be immediately recorded and should serve as a basis for the final judgment which should be pronounced in this affair.”

The Grand Vazír promised the interpreter that he would follow the minister’s advice, and even appointed a time for the messenger to join the government representative and Ḥájibu’d-Dawlih and proceed with them to the Síyáh-Chál.

‘Aẓím’s confession and death

When ‘Aẓím was questioned as to whether he regarded Bahá’u’lláh as the responsible leader of the group that had made the attempt on the Sháh’s life, he answered: “The Leader of this community was none other than the Siyyid-i-Báb, who was slain in Tabríz, and whose martyrdom induced me to arise and avenge His death. I alone conceived this plan and endeavoured to execute it. The youth who threw the Sháh from his horse was none other than Ṣádiq-i-Tabrízí, a servitor in a confectioner’s shop in Ṭihrán who had been for two years in my service. He was fired with a desire even more burning than my own to avenge the martyrdom of his Leader. He acted too hastily, however, and failed to make certain the success of his attempt.”

The words of his declaration were taken down by both the minister’s interpreter and the Grand Vazír’s representative, who submitted their records to Mírzá Áqá Khán. The documents which were placed in his hands were chiefly responsible for Bahá’u’lláh’s release from His imprisonment.

‘Aẓím was accordingly delivered into the hands of the ‘ulamás, who, though themselves anxious to hasten his death, were prevented by the hesitancy of Mírzá Abu’l-Qásim, the Imám-Jum‘ih of Ṭihrán. Ḥájibu’d-Dawlih, because of the near approach of the month of Muḥarram, induced the ‘ulamás to assemble on the upper floor of the barracks, where he succeeded in obtaining the presence of the Imám-Jum‘ih, who still persisted in his refusal to consent to the death of ‘Aẓím. He directed that the accused be brought to that place and there await the judgment that was to be pronounced against him. He was roughly conducted through the streets, overwhelmed with ridicule, and reviled by the populace. Through a subtle device which the enemy had contrived, they succeeded in obtaining a verdict for death. A siyyid armed with a club rushed at him and smashed his head. His example was followed by the people, who, with sticks, stones, and daggers, fell upon him and mutilated his body. Ḥájí Mírzá Jání also was among those who suffered martyrdom in the course of the agitation that followed the attempt on the life of the Sháh. Owing to the disinclination of the Grand Vazír to harm him, he was secretly put to death.

The conflagration kindled in the capital spread to the adjoining provinces, bringing in its wake devastation and misery to countless innocent people among the subjects of the Sháh. It ravaged Mázindarán, the home of Bahá’u’lláh, and was the signal for acts of violence which were directed mainly against all His possessions in that province. Two of the Báb’s devoted disciples, Muḥammad-Taqí Khán and ‘Abdu’l-Vahháb, both residents of Núr, suffered martyrdom as the result of that turmoil.

Bahá’u’lláh’s possessions plundered in Mázindarán

The enemies of the Faith, finding to their disappointment that Bahá’u’lláh’s deliverance from prison was almost assured, sought by intimidating their sovereign to involve Him in fresh complications and thus encompass His death. The folly of Mírzá Yaḥyá, who, driven by his idle hopes, had sought to secure for himself and the band of his foolish supporters a supremacy which hitherto he had in vain laboured to obtain, served as a further pretext for the enemy to urge the Sháh to take drastic measures for the destruction of whatever influence his Prisoner still retained in Mázindarán.

GENERAL VIEW OF TÁKUR IN MÁZINDARÁNGENERAL VIEW OF TÁKUR IN MÁZINDARÁN

The alarming reports received by the Sháh, who had scarcely recovered from his wounds, stirred in him a terrible thirst for revenge. He summoned the Grand Vazír and reprimanded him for having failed to maintain order and discipline among the people of his own province, who were bound to him by ties of kinship. Disconcerted by the rebuke of his sovereign, he expressed his readiness to fulfil whatever he would direct him to do. He was bidden despatch immediately to that province several regiments, with strict orders to repress with a ruthless hand the disturbers of the public peace.

The Grand Vazír, though fully aware of the exaggerated character of the reports that had been submitted to him, found himself compelled, owing to the Sháh’s insistence, to order the despatch of the Sháh-Sún regiment, headed by Ḥusayn-‘Alí Khán-i-Sháh-Sún, to the village of Tákur, in the district of Núr, where the home of Bahá’u’lláh was situated. He gave the supreme command into the hands of his nephew, Mírzá Abú-Ṭálib Khán, brother-in-law of Mírzá Ḥasan, who was Bahá’u’lláh’s half-brother. Mírzá Áqá Khán urged him to exercise the utmost caution and restraint while encamping in that village. “Whatever excesses,” he urged him, “are committed by your men will react unfavourably on the prestige of Mírzá Ḥasan and be the cause of affliction to your own sister.” He bade him investigate the nature of these reports and not to encamp more than three days in the vicinity of that village.

The Grand Vazír afterwards summoned Ḥusayn-‘Alí Khán and exhorted him to conduct himself with the utmost circumspection and wisdom. “Mírzá Abú-Ṭálib,” he said, “is still young and inexperienced. I have specially chosen him owing to his kinship to Mírzá Ḥasan. I trust that he will, for the sake of his sister, refrain from causing unnecessary injury to the inhabitants of Tákur. Being superior to him in age and experience, you must set him a noble example and impress on him the necessity of serving the interests of both government and people. You must never allow him to undertake any operations without having previously consulted with you.” He assured Ḥusayn-‘Alí Khán that he had issued written instructions to the chieftains of that district, calling upon them to come to his assistance whenever required.

Mírzá Abú-Ṭálib Khán, flushed with pride and enthusiasm, forgot the counsels of moderation the Grand Vazír had given him. He refused to be influenced by the pressing appeals of Ḥusayn-‘Alí Khán, who entreated him not to provoke an unnecessary conflict with the people. No sooner had he reached the pass which divided the district of Núr from the adjoining province, which was not far distant from Tákur, than he ordered his men to prepare for an attack upon the people of that village. Ḥusayn-‘Alí Khán ran to him in despair and begged him to refrain from such an act. “It is for me,” Mírzá Abú-Ṭálib haughtily retorted, “who am your superior, to decide what measures should be taken and in what manner I should serve my sovereign.”

RUINS OF BAHÁ’U’LLÁH’S HOUSE. ORIGINALLY BELONGING TO THE VAZÍR, HIS FATHER, IN TÁKUR, MÁZINDARÁNRUINS OF BAHÁ’U’LLÁH’S HOUSE. ORIGINALLY BELONGING TO THE
VAZÍR, HIS FATHER, IN TÁKUR, MÁZINDARÁN

A sudden attack was launched upon the defenceless people of Tákur. Surprised by so unexpected and fierce an onslaught, they appealed to Mírzá Ḥasan, who asked to be introduced into the presence of Mírzá Abú-Ṭálib but was refused admittance. “Tell him,” was the commander’s message, that I am charged by my sovereign to order a wholesale massacre of the people of this village, to capture its women and confiscate their property. For your sake, however, I am willing to spare such women as take refuge in your house.”

Mírzá Ḥasan, indignant at this refusal, severely censured him and, denouncing the action of the Sháh, returned to his home. The men of that village had meanwhile left their dwellings and sought refuge in the neighbouring mountains. Their women, abandoned to their fate, betook themselves to the home of Mírzá Ḥasan, whom they implored to protect them from the enemy.

The first act of Mírzá Abú-Ṭálib Khán was directed against the house Bahá’u’lláh had inherited from the Vazír, His father, and of which He was the sole possessor. That house had been royally furnished and was decorated with vessels of inestimable value. He ordered his men to break open all its treasuries and to take away their contents. Such things as he was unable to carry away, he ordered to be destroyed. Some were shattered, others were burned. Even the rooms, which were more stately than those of the palaces of Ṭihrán, were disfigured beyond repair; the beams were burned down and the decorations utterly ruined.

He next turned to the houses of the people, which he levelled with the ground, appropriating to himself and his men whatever valuables they contained. The entire village, despoiled and deserted by its men inhabitants, was delivered to the flames. Not able to find any able-bodied men, he ordered that a search be conducted in the neighbouring mountains. Any who were found were to be either shot or captured. All they could lay their hands upon were a few aged men and shepherds who had been unable to proceed further afield in their flight from the enemy. They discovered two men lying in the distance on the slopes of a mountain beside a running brook. Their weapons gleaming under the rays of the sun had betrayed them. Finding them asleep, they shot them both from across the brook which intervened between the assailants and their victims. They recognised them as ‘Abdu’l-Vahháb and Muḥammad-Taqí Khán. The former was shot dead, while the latter was severely wounded. They were carried into the presence of Mírzá Abú-Ṭálib, who did his best to preserve the life of the victim whom he wished, owing to his far-famed courage, to take with him to Ṭihrán as a trophy of his victory. His efforts failed, however, for Muḥammad-Taqí Khán, two days after, died from his wounds. The few men they had been able to capture were led in chains to Ṭihrán and thrown into the same underground dungeon where Bahá’u’lláh had been confined. Among them was Mullá ‘Alí-Bábá, who, together with a number of his fellow-prisoners, perished in that dungeon as a result of the hardships he had endured.

The year after, this same Mírzá Abú-Ṭálib was stricken with plague and taken in a state of wretched misery to Shimírán. Shunned by even his nearest kindred, he lay on his sick-bed until this same Mírzá Ḥasan, whom he had so haughtily insulted, offered to tend his sores and bear him company in his days of humiliation and loneliness. He was on the brink of death when the Grand Vazír visited him and found none at his bedside but the one whom he had so rudely treated. That very day that wretched tyrant expired, bitterly disappointed at the failure of all the hopes he had fondly cherished.

Effects of the turmoil in Yazd and Nayríz

The commotion that had seized Ṭihrán, the effects of which had been severely felt in Núr and the surrounding district, spread as far as Yazd and Nayríz, where a considerable number of the Báb’s disciples were seized and inhumanly martyred. The whole of Persia seemed, indeed, to have felt the shock of that great convulsion. Its tide swept as far as the remotest hamlets of the distant provinces, and brought in its wake untold sufferings to the remnants of a persecuted community. Governors, no less than their subordinates, inflamed with greed and revenge, seized the occasion to enrich themselves and obtain the favour of their sovereign. Without mercy, moderation, or shame, they employed any means, however base and lawless, to extort from the innocent the benefits they themselves coveted. Forsaking every principle of justice and decency, they arrested, imprisoned, and tortured whomsoever they suspected of being a Bábí, and would hasten to inform Náṣiri’d-Dín Sháh in Ṭihrán of the victories achieved over a detested opponent.

In Nayríz the full effects of that turmoil revealed themselves in the treatment accorded by its rulers and people to the followers of the Báb. About two months after the attempt on the life of the Sháh, a young man named Mírzá ‘Alí, whose exceptional courage had earned for him the surname of ‘Alíy-i-Sardár, distinguished himself by the extreme solicitude he extended to the survivors of the struggle which ended with the death of Vaḥíd and his supporters. He was often seen in the darkness of the night to emerge from his shelter, carrying whatever aid was in his power to the widows and orphans who had suffered from the consequences of that tragedy. To those in need he distributed food and garments with noble generosity, tended their injuries, and comforted them in their sorrow. The sight of the continuous sufferings of these innocent ones stirred the fierce indignation of some of Mírzá ‘Alí’s companions, who undertook to wreak their vengeance upon Zaynu’l-‘Ábidín Khán, who was still dwelling in Nayríz and whom they regarded as the author of their misfortunes. Believing that he had still in his heart a desire to subject them to even further afflictions, they determined to take his life. They surprised him in the public bath, where they succeeded in accomplishing their purpose. This led to an upheaval that recalled in its concluding stages the horror of the butcheries of Zanján.