A splendid comet, blazing in the western sky, had aroused the apprehensions of the Madani. They all fell to predicting the usual disasters — war, famine, and pestilence — it being still an article of Moslem belief that the Dread Star foreshows all manner of calamities. Men discussed the probability of Abd al-Majid’s immediate decease; for here as in Rome,

“When beggars die, there are no comets seen:

The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes:”

and in every strange atmospheric appearance about the time of the Hajj, the Hijazis are accustomed to read tidings of the dreaded Rih al-Asfar.1

Whether the event is attributable to the Zu Zuwabah — the “Lord of the Forelock,”— or whether it was a case of post hoc, ergò, propter hoc, I would not commit myself by deciding; but, influenced by some cause or other, the Hawazim and the Hawamid, sub-families of the Benu-Harb, began to fight about this time with prodigious fury. These tribes are generally at feud, and the least provocation fans their smouldering wrath into a flame. The Hawamid number, it is said, between three and four thousand fighting men, and the Hawazim not more than seven hundred: the latter however, are considered a race of desperadoes who pride themselves upon never retreating, and under their fiery Shaykhs, Abbas and Abu Ali, they are a thorn in the sides of their disproportionate foe. On the present occasion a Hamidah2 happened to strike the camel of a Hazimi which had trespassed; upon which the Hazimi smote the Hamidah, and called him a rough name. The Hamidah instantly shot the Hazimi, the tribes were called out, and they fought with asperity for some days. During the whole of the afternoon of Tuesday, the 30th of August, the sound of firing amongst the mountains was distinctly heard in the city. Through the streets parties of Badawin, sword and matchlock in hand, or merely carrying quarterstaves on their shoulders, might be seen hurrying along, frantic at the chance of missing the fray. The townspeople cursed them privily, expressing a hope that the whole race of vermin might consume itself. And the pilgrims were in no small trepidation, fearing the desertion of their camel-men, and knowing what a blaze is kindled in this inflammable land by an ounce of gunpowder. I afterwards heard that the Badawin fought till night, and separated after losing on both sides ten men.

This quarrel put an end to any lingering possibility of my prosecuting my journey to Maskat,3 as originally intended. I had on the way from Yambu’ to Al-Madinah privily made a friendship with one Mujrim of the Benu-Harb. The “Sinful,” as his name, ancient and classical amongst the Arabs, means, understood that I had some motive of secret interest to undertake the perilous journey. He could not promise at first to guide me, as his beat lay between Yambu’, Al-Madinah, Mec[c]ah, and Jeddah. But he offered to make all inquiries about the route, and to bring me the result at noonday, a time when the household was asleep. He had almost consented at last to travel with me about the end of August, in which case I should have slipped out of Hamid’s house and started like a Badawi towards the Indian Ocean. But when the war commenced, Mujrim, who doubtless wished to stand by his brethren the Hawazim, began to show signs of recusancy in putting off the day of departure to the end of September. At last, when pressed, he frankly told me that no traveller — nay, not a Badawi — could leave the city in that direction, even as far as historic Khaybar,4 which information I afterwards ascertained to be correct. It was impossible to start alone, and when in despair I had recourse to Shaykh Hamid, he seemed to think me mad for wishing to wend Northwards when all the world was hurrying towards the South. My disappointment was bitter at first, but consolation soon suggested itself. Under the most favourable circumstances, a Badawi-trip from Al-Madinah to Maskat, fifteen or sixteen hundred miles, would require at least ten months; whereas, under pain of losing my commission,5 I was ordered to be at Bombay before the end of March. Moreover, entering Arabia by Al-Hijaz, as has before been said, I was obliged to leave behind all my instruments except a watch and a pocket-compass, so the benefit rendered to geography by my trip would have been scanty. Still remained to me the comfort of reflecting that possibly at Meccah some opportunity of crossing the Peninsula might present itself. At any rate I had the certainty of seeing the strange wild country of the Hijaz, and of being present at the ceremonies of the Holy City. I must request the reader to bear with a Visitation once more: we shall conclude it with a ride to Al-Bakia.6 This venerable spot is frequented by the pious every day after the prayer at the Prophet’s Tomb, and especially on Fridays.

Our party started one morning — on donkeys, as usual, for my foot was not yet strong — along the Darb al-Janazah round the Southern wall of the town. The locomotion was decidedly slow, principally in consequence of the tent-ropes which the Hajis had pinned down literally all over the plain, and falls were by no means unfrequent. At last we arrived at the end of the Darb, where I committed myself by mistaking the decaying place of those miserable schismatics the Nakhawilah7 for Al-Bakia, the glorious cemetery of the Saints. Hamid corrected my blunder with tartness, to which I replied as tartly, that in our country — Afghanistan — we burned the body of every heretic upon whom we could lay our hands. This truly Islamitic custom was heard with general applause, and as the little dispute ended, we stood at the open gate of Al-Bakia. Then having dismounted I sat down on a low Dakkah or stone bench within the walls, to obtain a general view and to prepare for the most fatiguing of the Visitations.

There is a tradition that seventy thousand, or according to others a hundred thousand saints, all with faces like full moons, shall cleave on the last day the yawning bosom of Al-Bakia.8 About ten thousand of the Ashab (Companions of the Prophet) and innumerable Sadat are here buried: their graves are forgotten, because, in the olden time, tombstones were not placed over the last resting-places of mankind. The first of flesh who shall arise is Mohammed, the second Abu Bakr, the third Omar, then the people of Al-Bakia (amongst whom is Osman, the fourth Caliph), and then the incol[ae] of the Jannat al-Ma’ala, the Meccan cemetery. The Hadis, “whoever dies at the two Harims shall rise with the Sure on the Day of judgment,” has made these spots priceless in value. And even upon earth they might be made a mine of wealth. Like the catacombs at Rome, Al-Bakia is literally full of the odour of sanctity, and a single item of the great aggregate here would render any other Moslem town famous. It is a pity that this people refuses to exhume its relics.

The first person buried in Al-Bakia was Osman bin Maz’un, the first of the Muhajirs, who died at Al-Madinah. In the month of Sha’aban, A.H. 3, the Prophet kissed the forehead of the corpse and ordered it to be interred within sight of his abode.9 In those days the field was covered with the tree Gharkad; the vegetation was cut down, the ground was levelled, and Osman was placed in the centre of the new cemetery. With his own hands Mohammed planted two large upright stones at the head and the feet of his faithful follower10; and in process of time a dome covered the spot. Ibrahim, the Prophet’s infant second son, was laid by Osman’s side, after which Al-Bakia became a celebrated cemetery.

The Burial-place of the Saints is an irregular oblong surrounded by walls which are connected with the suburb at their south-west angle. The Darb al-Janazah separates it from the enceinte of the town, and the eastern Desert Road beginning from the Bab al-Jumah bounds it on the North. Around it palm plantations seem to flourish. It is small, considering the extensive use made of it: all that die at Al-Madinah, strangers as well as natives, except only heretics and schismatics, expect to be interred in it. It must be choked with corpses, which it could never contain did not the Moslem style of burial greatly favour rapid decomposition; and it has all the inconveniences of “intramural sepulture.” The gate is small and ignoble; a mere doorway in the wall. Inside there are no flower-plots, no tall trees, in fact none of the refinements which lightens the gloom of a Christian burial-place: the buildings are simple, they might even be called mean. Almost all are the common Arab Mosque, cleanly whitewashed, and looking quite new. The ancient monuments were levelled to the ground by Sa’ad the Wahhabi and his puritan followers, who waged pitiless warfare against what must have appeared to them magnificent mausolea, deeming as they did a loose heap of stones sufficient for a grave. In Burckhardt’s time the whole place was a “confused accumulation of heaps of earth, wide pits, and rubbish, without a singular regular tomb-stone.” The present erections owe their existence, I was told, to the liberality of the Sultans Abd al-Hamid and Mahmud.

A poor pilgrim has lately started on his last journey, and his corpse, unattended by friends or mourners, is carried upon the shoulders of hired buriers into the cemetery. Suddenly they stay their rapid steps, and throw the body upon the ground. There is a life-like pliability about it as it falls, and the tight cerements so define the outlines that the action makes me shudder. It looks almost as if the dead were conscious of what is about to occur. They have forgotten their tools; one man starts to fetch them, and three sit down to smoke. After a time a shallow grave is hastily scooped out.11 The corpse is packed in it with such unseemly haste that earth touches it in all directions — cruel carelessness among Moslems, who believe this to torture the sentient frame.12 One comfort suggests itself. The poor man being a pilgrim has died “Shahid”— in martyrdom. Ere long his spirit shall leave Al-Bakia,

“And he on honey-dew shall feed,

And drink the milk of Paradise.”

I entered the holy cemetery right foot forwards, as if it were a Mosque, and barefooted, to avoid suspicion of being a heretic. For though the citizens wear their shoes in the Bakia, they are much offended at seeing the Persians follow their example. We began by the general benediction13: “Peace be upon Ye, O People of Al-Bakia! Peace be upon Ye, O Admitted to the Presence of the Most High! Receive Ye what Ye have been promised! Peace be upon Ye, Martyrs of Al-Bakia, One and All! We verily, if Allah please, are about to join You! O Allah, pardon us and Them, and the Mercy of God, and His Blessings!” After which we recited the Chapter Al-Ikhlas and the Testification, then raised our hands, mumbled the Fatihah, passed our palms down our faces, and went on.

Walking down a rough narrow path, which leads from the western to the eastern extremity of Al-Bakia, we entered the humble mausoleum of the Caliph Osman — Osman “Al-Mazlum,” or the “ill-treated,” he is called by some Moslems. When he was slain,14 his friends wished to bury him by the Prophet in the Hujrah, and Ayishah made no objection to the measure. But the people of Egypt became violent; swore that the corpse should neither be buried nor be prayed over, and only permitted it to be removed upon the threat of Habibah (one of the “Mothers of the Moslems,” and daughter of Abu Sufiyan) to expose her countenance. During the night that followed his death, Osman was carried out by several of his friends to Al-Bakia, from which, however, they were driven away, and obliged to deposit their burden in a garden, eastward of and outside the saints’ cemetery. It was called Hisn Kaukab, and was looked upon as an inauspicious place of sepulture, till Marwan included it in Al-Bakia. We stood before Osman’s monument, repeating, “Peace be upon Thee, O our Lord Osman, Son of Affan!15 Peace be upon Thee, O Caliph of Allah’s Apostle! Peace be upon Thee, O Writer of Allah’s Book! Peace be upon Thee, in whose Presence the Angels are ashamed!16 Peace be upon Thee, O Collector of the Koran! Peace be upon Thee, O Son-in-Law of the Prophet! Peace be upon Thee, O Lord of the Two Lights (the two daughters of Mohammed)!17 Peace be upon Thee, who fought the Battle of the Faith! Allah be satisfied with Thee, and cause Thee to be satisfied, and render Heaven thy Habitation! Peace be upon Thee, and the Mercy of Allah and His Blessing, and Praise be to Allah, Lord of the (three) Worlds!” This supplication concluded in the usual manner. After which we gave alms, and settled with ten piastres the demands of the Khadim18 who takes charge of the tomb: this double-disbursing process had to be repeated at each station.

Then moving a few paces to the North, we faced Eastwards, and performed the Visitation of Abu Sa’id al-Khazari, a Sahib or Companion of the Prophet, whose sepulchre lies outside Al-Bakia. The third place visited was a dome containing the tomb of our lady Halimah, the Badawi wet-nurse who took charge of Mohammed19: she is addressed hus; “Peace be upon Thee, O Halimah the Auspicious!20 Peace be upon Thee, who performed thy Trust in suckling the Best of Mankind! Peace be upon Thee, O Wet-nurse of Al-Mustafa (the chosen)! Peace be upon Thee, O Wet-nurse of Al-Mujtaba (the (accepted)!21 May Allah be satisfied with Thee, and cause Thee to be satisfied, and render Heaven thy House and Habitation! and verily we have come visiting Thee, and by means of Thee drawing near to Allah’s Prophet, and through Him to God, the Lord of the Heavens and the Earths.22”

After which, fronting the North, we stood before a low enclosure, containing ovals of loose stones, disposed side by side. These are the Martyrs of Al-Bakia, who received the crown of glory at the hands of Al-Muslim,23 the general of the arch-heretic Yazid24 The prayer here recited differs so little from that addressed to the martyrs of Ohod, that I will not transcribe it. The fifth station is near the centre of the cemetery at the tomb of Ibrahim, who died, to the eternal regret of Al-Islam, some say six months old, others in his second year. He was the son of Mariyah, the Coptic girl, sent as a present to Mohammed by Jarih, the Mukaukas or governor of Alexandria. The Prophet with his own hand piled earth upon the grave, and sprinkled it with water — a ceremony then first performed — disposed small stones upon it, and pronounced the final salutation. For which reason many holy men were buried in this part of the cemetery, every one being ambitious to lie in ground which has been honored by the Apostle’s hands. Then we visited Al-Nafi Maula, son of Omar, generally called Imam Nafi al-Kari, or the Koran chaunter; and near him the great doctor Imam Malik ibn Anas, a native of Al-Madinah, and one of the most dutiful of her sons. The eighth station is at the tomb of Ukayl bin Abi Talib, brother of Ali.25 Then we visited the spot where lie interred all the Prophet’s ............