The man chosen by Ḥájí Mírzá Áqásí to take the Báb away from the castle of Máh-Kú was Riḍá-Qulí Khán-i-Afshár, an officer with the rank of Sartíp (brigadier, in today's usage). He was the son of Ḥájí Sulaymán Khán, the official who, in Zanján, failed to heed the Báb's message to him. Ḥájí Sulaymán Khán was intensely devoted to Siyyid Káẓim-i-Rashtí, who had told him that he would live to see the advent of the Qá'im; he often expressed surprise that the Qá'im had not appeared for him to recognize, despite this unequivocal promise. Although he met the Báb in Mecca, he attached himself to Ḥájí Muḥammad-Karím Khán-i-Kirmání and refused to listen to the Bábís. His devotion to Siyyid Káẓim was of such a character that, having obtained the hand of a daughter of Siyyid Káẓim for his son, he began his day by paying his respects in person to his daughter-in-law. It was this son who was entrusted with the task of moving the Báb from Máh-Kú to Urúmíyyih and Chihríq.[DG] And soon he too became captivated by the Prisoner in his charge. Eventually, Riḍá-Qulí Khán became an avowed, zealous Bábí, and broke away from his father, who persisted in his hostility to the Báb.
The castle of Chihríq is in the neighbourhood of Urúmíyyih, known today as Riḍá'íyyih. Its warden, Yaḥyá Khán, was a Kurdish chieftain, whose sister was married to Muḥammad Sháh. The son of this union was called `Abbás Mírzá, after the Sháh's own father, and bore also his title, Náyibu's-Salṭanih (Viceroy or Regent). Because this child was such a favourite of Muḥammad Sháh, the mother of the heir to the throne, Náṣiri'd-Dín Mírzá, was exceedingly jealous of him. Her jealousy put his life in jeopardy after the death of his father, but Colonel Farrant's intervention saved him.[DH] He was exiled to Qum, but even then he was not secure, for he was accused of being in league with the Bábís. Mírzá Ḥusayn-i-Mutavallí (Custodian) of Qum was forced, under torture, to sign a confession implicating `Abbás Mírzá in faked Bábí plots.[DI] This unfortunate prince spent many years of his life in exile, mostly in `Iráq. He was eventually allowed to return to Írán and was given the title of Mulk-Árá; but he was always close to misfortune and danger.
Yaḥyá Khán, the warden of Chihríq, was harsh and unpredictable, but before long he too felt unable to keep the gates of his castle closed against the Bábís. The same power, which had held `Alí Khán of Máh-Kú spellbound, captured the heart of Yaḥyá Khán. So many Bábís came to Chihríq that it was impossible to house them and rooms had to be found for them in Iskí-Shahr, which was not far away. Food and all other necessities were purchased in Iskí-Shahr. Once some honey was bought there for the Báb, but He found the quality to be inferior and the price exorbitant and had it returned.
Honey of a superior quality [He said] could no doubt have been purchased at a lower price. I who am your example have been a merchant by profession. It behoves you in all your transactions to follow in My way. You must neither defraud your neighbour nor allow him to defraud you. Such was the way of your Master. The shrewdest and ablest of men were unable to deceive Him, nor did He on His part choose to act ungenerously towards the meanest and most helpless of creatures.[1]
Khuy was another town of Ádharbáyján which was not far from Chihríq. Not long had passed since the Báb's arrival at Chihríq when Khuy became aware that a number of its prominent citizens among the siyyids, divines and officials had become Bábís. Mírzá Asadu'lláh, on whom the Báb conferred the designation of Dayyán,[2] was one of them. Dayyán means the conqueror or the judge. Mírzá Asadu'lláh, a proud man, high in the service of the government, and a man of vast learning who wielded a fluent pen,[DJ] had for long withstood the attempts of the Bábís to convert him. Not only did he refuse to yield any ground to them, he also proved a vociferous antagonist. Then he had a dream which induced him to write to the Báb. And when he received the answer to his letter he gave the Báb his allegiance with a zeal and fervour that thoroughly alarmed his father, who was a personal friend of the Grand Vizier. He wrote to Ḥájí Mírzá Áqásí, expatiating on his son's bewitchment and deploring his grave aberrations.[DK]
Once again Ḥájí Mírzá Áqásí found himself thwarted. The Faith of the Báb was spreading and he could not contain it. And now the Grand Vizier had the additional anxiety of watching the rapid deterioration of Muḥammad Sháh's health. The monarch was only forty years old, but as a sufferer from gout his malady was wearing him down.
At Chihríq itself a dervish arrived from India. Who he truly was, no one knew and no one knows even now. The Báb gave him the name Qahru'lláh (the Wrath of God). All that this dervish would say about himself was:
In the days when I occupied the exalted position of a navváb in India, the Báb appeared to me in a vision. He gazed at me and won my heart completely. I arose, and had started to follow Him, when He looked at me intently and said: 'Divest yourself of your gorgeous attire, depart from your native land, and hasten on foot to meet Me in Ádhirbáyján. In Chihríq you will attain your heart's desire.' I followed His directions and have now reached my goal.[4]
The Báb instructed him to go back to his native land, the same way he had come, as a dervish and on foot. Qahru'lláh would have no companion on that long journey back. His fate remains a mystery, just as does the fate of Shaykh Sa`íd, the Indian Letter of the Living.
The Báb had been in Chihríq for three months when Ḥájí Mírzá Áqásí decided He should be taken, once more, to Tabríz. Before the summons came, the Báb sent away those Bábís who had congregated in and around Chihríq; among them was the redoubtable `Aẓím.[DL] At the same time, He commissioned Shaykh Ḥasan-i-Zunúzí to collect the Writings He had revealed in the two castles, and hand them for safe-keeping to Siyyid Ibráhím-i-Khalíl, who resided in Tabríz.
When the Báb reached Urúmíyyih, on his way to Tabríz, the Governor, Malik Qásim Mírzá, a descendant of Faṭh-`Alí Sháh, received Him reverently. Nevertheless, he decided to pose a test for his Guest. On a Friday, when the Báb planned to go to the public bath, he directed that a particularly unruly horse be brought to convey Him. Those who knew of his plan awaited the outcome with bated breath. Miraculously, the horse stood quietly for the Báb, who mounted and rode it to the bath with perfect control. The Prince-Governor, ashamed and abashed, walked on foot beside the Báb's steed nearly to His destination, until the Báb asked him to return to his house. The news spread and stunned the town. When the Báb came out of the bath and mounted the same horse again, men, women and children rushed in to take away every drop of the water He had used.
From now on the Governor's residence was thronged daily by people who wished to meet the Báb or just to catch a glimpse of Him. During this time, Áqá-Bálá Big, the Naqqásh-Báshí (Chief Painter) made a portrait of the Báb, the only one ever drawn of Him; its story is of tremendous interest.
Áqá-Bálá Big was a native of Shíshván, a village on the banks of Lake Urúmíyyih. Like scores of others, he was attracted to Government House to see the Báb. Years later he related his experience to Varqá, the Bahá'í martyr-poet. He had noticed that as soon as the Báb's eyes alighted on him He arranged His `abá neatly and looked at him intently. This happened again the next day, and Áqá-Bálá Big realized that the Báb was giving him a sign that he might draw His portrait. The painter made a rough sketch there and then. Later, he composed the portrait in black and white. When Varqá informed Bahá'u'lláh of this, he was instructed to ask the painter to make two copies of the portrait in water colour, one to be sent to the Holy Land and one to be kept by Varqá himself. The copy taken to the Holy Land is in the International Archives of the Bahá'í Faith. The copy which the martyr-poet held was among his possessions, looted at the time of his arrest. The original black and white portrait was discovered years later by Siyyid Asadu'lláh-i-Qumí, who conveyed it to the Holy Land and presented it to `Abdu'l-Bahá.[DM]
The Báb must have reached Tabríz in the last week of July 1848. Muḥammad Sháh's illness was, by then, giving concern to Ḥájí Mírzá Áqásí, and the wily old Grand Vizier, conscious of his approaching downfall, was already seeking ways and means of softening the blow. Over the course of years he had grown to be a very rich man, owning villages and farmlands and urban property. He knew that with the death of Muḥammad Sháh he would lose not only his position and power, but also his enormous wealth. When Muḥammad Sháh was dying, Ḥájí Mírzá Áqásí was no longer to be seen within the precincts of the palace, for his powerful enemies in the Court, whom he had not been able to destroy,[DN] were ready to pounce on him. He retired to his village of `Abbásábád. There his body-guard, recruited from his home town of Máh-Kú, disintegrated. The people of Ṭihrán who had suffered so much at their hands now found opportunities to avenge themselves, and Ḥájí Mírzá Áqásí found himself in such straits that he felt constrained to write to the boy-prince, `Abbás Mírzá, and a number of prominent courtiers, to plead for harmony and friendship. As no response was forthcoming from these quarters, he put on a bold face and tried to regain his residence in Ṭihrán. But the artillery General, who commanded the royal guard at the citadel, let him know that his stay in Ṭihrán was undesirable. So he tried to reach Ádharbáyján, the province to which he had exiled the Báb, to take refuge with the inhabitants of his native town. He had not gone far from the capital when he was turned back. Deserted and mocked, he had no course open but to seek sanctuary in the shrine of Sháh `Abdu'l-`Aẓím. Such was the end of all power for Ḥájí Mírzá Áqásí, the Antichrist of the Bábí Revelation.
In Tabríz the Báb was brought before the Crown Prince, Náṣiri'd-Dín Mírzá, who was only seventeen years old and had recently been given the governorship of Ádharbáyján. A panel of the prominent divines of Tabríz gathered to examine the Báb. The leading men of that panel were: Ḥájí Mírzá Maḥmúd, the Niẓámu'l-`Ulamá, who was the chief tutor of the Crown Prince; Mullá Muḥammad-i-Mámaqání, a disciple of Siyyid Káẓim and an outstanding figure among the Shaykhís; Ḥájí Murtiḍá-Qulíy-i-Marandí, the `Alamu'l-Hudá; Ḥájí Mírzá `Alí-Aṣghar, the Shaykhu'l-Islám;[DO] and Mírzá Aḥmad, the Imám-Jum`ih. The procedures of that high tribunal were frivolous from beginning to end. Here were the shining lights of the religious hierarchy of Tabríz, assembled to learn from a young Siyyid, who claimed to be the bearer of a Message from God, what the nature of His claim was and what proofs He could adduce to substantiate it. That they failed miserably to be just and to apply themselves to the problem before them need not be sought in the evidence of the followers of the Báb. Two of the best known Persian histories of the time plentifully provide that evidence. These are the Násikhu't-Taváríkh by Muḥammad-Taqí Khán of Káshán[5] and the Supplement to the Rawḍatu'ṣ-Ṣafá of Mírkhund[DP] by Riḍá-Qulí Khán-i-Hidáyat; both works were written during the reign of Náṣiri'd-Dín Sháh. From these two histories, Edward Granville Browne prepared a version of the procès-verbal of that infamous tribunal for the Appendices to his translation of A Traveller's Narrative. He also used another book, the Qiṣaṣu'l-`Ulamá (Chronicles of the Divines) written in 1873. Typical are these two questions, said to have been put to the Báb by Niẓámu'l-`Ulamá:
'As the Prophet or some other wise man hath said "Knowledge is twofold—knowledge of bodies, and knowledge of religions"; I ask, then, in Medicine, what occurs in the stomach when a person suffers from indigestion? Why are some cases amenable to treatment? And why do some go on to permanent dyspepsia or syncope [swooning], or terminate in hypochondriasis?'
'The science of "Applications" is elucidated from the Book and the Code, and the understanding of the Book and the Code [the Qur'án and the Traditions] depends on many sciences, such as Grammar, Rhetoric, and Logic. Do you who are the Báb conjugate Ḳála?'[DQ]
The Báb is alleged to have replied that He had learned to conjugate Arabic words in His childhood, but had forgotten the rules. This is supposed to have been the answer of a Person who had revealed the Qayyúmu'l-Asmá', the Commentary on the Súrih of Kawthar, the Commentary on the Súrih of V'al-`Aṣr—all in Arabic.
When the Báb stated clearly: 'I am that person for whose appearance ye have waited a thousand years,' Nizámu'l-`Ulamá retorted:
'That is to say you are the Mahdí, the Lord of Religion?'
'Yes,' answered the Báb.
'The same in person, or generically?'
'In person.'
'What is your name, and what are the names of your father and mother? Where is your birthplace? And how old are you?'
'My name is `Alí Muḥammad,' answered the Báb. 'My mother was named Khadíja and my father Mírzá Riẓá the cloth-seller; my birth-place is Shíráz; and of my life, behold, thirty-five years have elapsed.'[DR]
'The name of the Lord of Religion is Muḥammad; his father was named Ḥasan and his mother Narjis; his birthplace was Surra-man-Ra'a; and his age is more than a thousand years. There is the most complete variance. And besides I did not send you.'
'Do you claim to be God?' asked the Báb.
'Such an Imám is worthy of such a God,' replied Niẓámu'l-`Ulamá.
'I can in one day write two thousand verses. Who else can do this?'
'When I resided at the Supreme Shrines I had a secretary who used to write two thousand verses a day. Eventually he became blind. You must certainly give up this occupation, or else you too will go blind.'[6]
Even from these few quotations the absurdity of the trial may be seen.
The authors of Násikhu't-Taváríkh, the Supplement to Rawḍatu'ṣ-Ṣafá and Qiṣaṣu'l-`Ulamá took their material from a tract written by the same Niẓámu'l-`Ulamá who presided over the tribunal in Tabríz. But Shaykh Muḥammad-Taqí, the son of Mullá Muḥammad-i-Mámaqání, and no less an opponent of the Faith of the Báb than his father, in a book written specifically to refute that Faith, took Niẓámu'l-`Ulamá to task for having perverted the truth. Shaykh Muḥammad-Taqí was himself present at the tribunal; in his book he underlined, one by one, Niẓámu'l-`Ulamá's misrepresentations. His testimony to the powers of the Báb, which he recorded despite his avowed, unrelenting antagonism, has recently been reprinted. Eventually, Niẓámu'l-`Ulamá collected as many copies as he could of his own tract and destroyed them.
Nabíl-i-A`ẓam states, on the authority of Shaykh Ḥasan-i-Zunúzí, that the person most insolent in the course of that mock trial was Mullá Muḥammad-i-Mámaqání.[DS] The Báb was sitting between him and the Crown Prince, and when He affirmed that He was the Qá'im, whose advent they expected, Mullá Muḥammad called out in anger:
'You wretched and immature lad of Shíráz! You have already convulsed and subverted `Iráq; do you now wish to arouse a like turmoil in Ádhirbáyján?'
The Báb's answer to his outburst was only this: 'Your Honour, I have not come hither of My own accord. I have been summoned to this place.'
Mullá Muḥammad, yet more haughty and disdainful, shouted back: 'Hold your peace, you perverse and contemptible follower of Satan!'
And the Báb replied serenely: 'Your Honour, I maintain what I have already declared.'
Then, according to Nabíl-i-A`ẓam, Niẓámu'l-`Ulamá posed this challenge:
'The claim which you have advanced is a stupendous one; it must needs be supported by the most incontrovertible evidence.'
'His own word,' said the Báb, 'is the most convincing evidence of the truth of the Mission of the Prophet of God.' And He quoted from the Qur'án a verse in support of His argument: '"Is it not enough for them that We have sent down to Thee the Book?"'[DT]
Niẓámu'l-`Ulamá rejoined: 'Describe orally, if you speak the truth, the proceedings of this gathering in language that will resemble the phraseology of the verses of the Qur'án so that the Valí-`Ahd [Crown Prince] and the assembled divines may bear witness to the truth of your claim.'
The Báb had spoken no more than a few words in response to this request when Mullá Muḥammad rudely intervened:
'This self-appointed Qá'im of ours has at the very start of his address betrayed his ignorance of the most rudimentary rules of grammar!'
'The Qur'án itself does in no wise accord with the rules and conventions current amongst men,' said the Báb. 'The Word of God can never be subject to the limitations of His creatures. Nay, the rules and canons which men have adopted have been deduced from the text of the Word of God and are based upon it. These men have, in the very texts of that holy Book, discovered no less than three hundred instances of grammatical error, such as the one you now criticise. Inasmuch as it was the Word of God, they had no other alternative except to resign themselves to His will.'
But Mullá Muḥammad turned a deaf ear to the Báb, and another divine interrupted with an absurd question about the tense of a verb. Then the Báb spoke this verse of the Qur'án: 'Far be the glory of thy Lord, the Lord of all greatness, from what they impute to Him, and peace be upon His Apostles!' And He rose up from His seat and walked out.[DU][7]
Shortly after these proceedings, it was decided to inflict corporal punishment upon the Báb, and He was taken to the house of Muḥammad-Káẓim Khán, the farrásh-báshí.[DV] As the guards refused to carry out the sentence, Mírzá `Alí-Aṣghar, the Shaykhu'l-Islám, personally administered the bastinado. When the news reached Urúmíyyih that the Báb had been subjected to such indignity, many of those who had been attracted to His Faith abandoned it. In Tabríz, the Báb was seen by Dr. Cormick, an English physician, the only Westerner ever to have met Him. The Reverend Benjamin Labaree, D.D., of the American Presbyterian Mission at Urúmíyyih, asked Dr. Cormick for the particulars of his visit. The English physician wrote in answer:
You ask me for some particulars of my interview with the founder of the sect known as Bábís. Nothing of any importance transpired in this interview, as the Báb was aware of my having been sent with two other Persian doctors to see whether he was of sane mind or merely a madman, to decide the question whether to put him to death or not. With this knowledge he was loth to answer any questions put to him. To all enquiries he merely regarded us with a mild look, chanting in a low melodious voice some hymns, I suppose. Two other Sayyids, his intimate friends, were also present, who subsequently were put to death with him,[DW] besides a couple of government officials. He only once deigned to answer me, on my saying that I was not a Musulmán and was willing to know something about his religion, as I might perhaps be inclined to adopt it. He regarded me very intently on my saying this, and replied that he had no doubt of all Europeans coming over to his religion. Our report to the Sháh at that time was of a nature to spare his life. He was put to death some time after by the order of the Amír-i-Niẓám Mírzá Taqí Khán. On our report he merely got the bastinado, in which operation a farrásh, whether intentionally or not, struck him across the face with the stick destined for his feet, which produced a great wound and swelling of the face. On being asked whether a Persian surgeon should be brought to treat him, he expressed a desire that I should be sent for, and I accordingly treated him for a few days, but in the interviews consequent on this I could never get him to have a confidential chat with me, as some Government people were always present, he being a prisoner.
He was very thankful for my attentions to him. He was a very mild and delicate-looking man, rather small in stature and very fair for a Persian, with a melodious soft voice, which struck me much. Being a Sayyid, he was dressed in the habits of that sect, as were also his two companions. In fact his whole look and deportment went far to dispose one in his favour. Of his doctrine I heard nothing from his own lips, although the idea was that there existed in his religion a certain approach to Christianity. He was seen by some Armenian carpenters, who were sent to make some repairs in his prison, reading the Bible, and he took no pains to conceal it, but on the contrary told them of it. Most assuredly the Musulmán fanaticism does not exist in his religion, as applied to Christians, nor is there that restraint of females that now exists.[8]
It must have been sometime in the first days of August 1848 that the Báb was restored to Chihríq. From there, He addressed a letter to Ḥájí Mírzá Áqásí:
O thou who hast disbelieved in God, and hast turned thy face away from His signs![9]
That letter, stern and unsparing, is known as the Khuṭbiy-i-Qahríyyih (Sermon of Wrath). The Báb sent it to Ḥujjat, who was still in Ṭihrán unable to return to his native town, to give it in person to the Grand Vizier. Hujjat carried out the task entrusted to him. By then Ḥájí Mírzá Áqásí had fallen from power, to end his days in obscurity in `Iráq.
Muḥammad Sháh died on September 4th 1848.[DX] Less than a year later, Ḥájí Mírzá Áqásí followed him to the grave.
The death of Muḥammad Sháh and the downfall of Ḥájí Mírzá Áqásí were events of far-reaching consequence. The new monarch was very young and inexperienced, while the man who now occupied the seat left vacant by the disappearance of Ḥájí Mírzá Áqásí was capable and uncorrupted, but self-willed and headstrong. Mírzá Taqí Khán, the Amír-Niẓám (better known by his later title Amír-i-Kabír) had by sheer force of his abilities raised himself from humble origins to a position of power. His father had been a cook in the employment of the illustrious Qá'im-Maqám. And it had been that great minister who had first noticed high promise in the young Taqí. Although Náṣiri'd-Dín Sháh now reigned over Írán, it was Mírzá Taqí Khán who ruled it.
Once again, within the confines of Chihríq, the Báb had uninterrupted communication with His followers. Mullá Ádí Guzal, a native of Marághih (Ádh-rbáyján), acted as a courier, often traversing vast distances on foot. Decades later `Abdu'l-Bahá recalled a day when this indefatigable man arrived at Ṭihrán, dressed as a dervish and much travel-stained. Vaḥíd, on learning who he was and from whence he had come, bent low and kissed the mud-encrusted feet of the courier, for he had been in the presence of the Beloved.
One of this courier's journeys took him to Quddús, with the gift of a valuable pen-case and a silk turban sent by the Báb. And when Quddús and Mullá Ḥusayn and their companions died as martyrs in Mázindarán, the Báb chose this same faithful courier to go on pilgrimage in His stead to the land drenched with their blood. Thus Mullá Ádí Guzal was the first Bábí to set eyes on the scenes of that carnage. He was also, for two months, the Báb's personal attendant in the castle of Chihríq.[1]
Sulaymán Khán, the son of Yaḥyá Khán of Tabríz, was one of the prominent followers of the Báb who attained His presence in this castle, after making the journey in disguise.[DY] He had no liking for service at court, and had gone to `Iráq, to live under the shadow of the Shrine of Imám Ḥusayn. There he found himself attracted to the teachings of Siyyid Káẓim and, hearing later of the advent of the Báb, gave Him his allegiance. The news of the plight of his fellow-believers, who were hounded and besieged in Mázindarán, drew him back to his native land. He reached Ṭihrán dressed as a cleric. Mírzá Taqí Khán, however, made him discard his turban and long cloak, and forced him to wear a military uniform. But he could not prevail upon him to enter the service of the Government. Sulaymán Khán's primary purpose remained unfulfilled: to give aid to Quddús and the Bábu'l-Báb proved impossible, but his sudden departure from Karbilá was not to be in vain, or barren of significant result.
Another visitor to Chihríq during the closing months of the life of the Báb was His uncle, Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid `Alí. His life too was nearing its end, to be laid down in the path of his Nephew. Two years had passed since the day his Nephew bade him farewell in Shíráz, and Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid `Alí could no longer bear the pangs of separation. He settled his accounts, closed his books and took the road to Ádharbáyján. Having attained his heart's desire, he wrote to his brother, Ḥájí Mírzá Siyyid Muḥammad, to help him see the truth of their Nephew's mission. His letter was written on the fifth day of Jamádíu'l-Úlá—the anniversary of the Declaration of the Báb. 'On such a day,' he told his brother, 'the resplendent Light of God shone forth.... This is the day of Resurrection ... the day to behold the Visage of God.'[2] The One promised, expected and awaited had indeed come, he asserted, and come with verses constituting the primal proof of all the Manifestations of God. He desired all the members of his family to see his letter. One cannot but marvel at the quality of devotion and certainty that this letter reveals.
To meet, after such a long interval, the uncle who had stood in loco parentis to Him when He was orphaned, must have given the Báb intense joy. But within a few months[DZ] of His uncle's visit, news came that brought Him unbearable sorrow. At Shaykh Ṭabarsí in Mázindarán a large number of His followers had been massacred, including nine of His first disciples, the Letters of the Living; amongst them were the Bábu'l-Báb who had first believed in Him, and Quddús, His companion on the journey to Ḥijáz, the beloved disciple whose primacy was unquestioned.
According to His amanuensis:
The Báb was heart-broken at the receipt of this unexpected intelligence. He was crushed with grief, a grief that stilled His voice and silenced His pen. For nine days He refused to meet any of His friends. I myself, though His close and constant attendant, was refused admittance. Whatever meat or drink we offered Him, He was disinclined to touch. Tears rained continually from His eyes, and expressions of anguish dropped unceasingly from His lips. I could hear Him, from behind the curtain, give vent to His feelings of sadness as He communed, in the privacy of His cell, with His Beloved. I attempted to jot down the effusions of His sorrow as they poured forth from His wounded heart. Suspecting that I was attempting to preserve the lamentations He uttered, He bade me destroy whatever I had recorded. Nothing remains of the moans and cries with which that heavy-laden heart sought to relieve itself of the pangs that had seized it. For a period of five months He languished, immersed in an ocean of despondency and sorrow.[3]
Conscious that His own life was fast approaching its end, the Báb put all His Writings, His pen-case, His seals and rings in a box which He entrusted to Mullá Báqir-i-Tabrízí, one of the Letters of the Living, with instructions to deliver it, together with a letter, to Mírzá Aḥmad-i-Kátib (Mullá `Abdu'l-Karím-i-Qazvíní). Nabíl-i-A`ẓam writes:
Mullá Báqir departed forthwith for Qazvín. Within eighteen days he reached that town and was informed that Mírzá Aḥmad had departed for Qum. He left immediately for that destination and arrived towards the middle of the month of Sha`bán.[EA] I was then in Qum.... I was living in the same house with Mírzá Aḥmad.... In those days Shaykh `Aẓím, Siyyid Ismá`íl, and a number of other companions likewise were dwelling with us. Mullá Báqir delivered the trust into the hands of Mírzá Aḥmad, who, at the insistence of Shaykh `Aẓím, opened it before us. We marvelled when we beheld, among the things which that coffer contained, a scroll of blue paper, of the most delicate texture, on which the Báb, in His own exquisite handwriting, which was a fine shikastih script, had penned, in the form of a pentacle, what numbered about five hundred verses, all consisting of derivatives from the word 'Bahá'.[EB] That scroll was in a state of perfect preservation, was spotlessly clean.... So fine and intricate was the penmanship that, viewed at a distance, the writing appeared as a single wash of ink on the paper. We were overcome with admiration as we gazed upon a masterpiece which no calligraphist, we believed, could rival. That scroll was replaced in the coffer and handed back to Mírzá Aḥmad, who, on the very day he received it, proceeded to Ṭihrán. Ere he departed, he informed us that all he could divulge of that letter was the injunction that the trust was to be delivered into the hands of Jináb-i-Bahá[EC] in Ṭihrán.[4]
It was also during the last few months of His life that the Báb composed the Arabic Bayán, which, in the estimation of Nicolas, is the epitome of the teachings of the Báb.
The man who took the decision to have the Báb executed was Mírzá Taqí Khán, the Grand Vizier of Náṣiri'd-Dín Sháh. His obdurate nature brooked no opposition. Mírzá Áqá Khán-i-Núrí, who had a ministerial post, made a faint protest, but his voice went unheeded. Orders were sent to Ḥamzih Mírzá, the Ḥishmatu'd-Dawlih, Governor-General of Ádharbáyján, to bring the Báb to Tabríz. When these were carried out further orders came from the Grand Vizier, brought by no less a person than his brother, Mírzá Ḥasan Khán, the Vazír Nizám. They were to the effect that the Báb should be executed by a firing squad, in full public view. Ḥishmatu'd-Dawlih refused absolutely to be associated in any way with such a dastardly action. His response was: 'I am neither Ibn-i-Zíyád nor Ibn-i-Sa`d[ED] that he should call upon me to slay an innocent descendant of the Prophet of God.'[5]
The Grand Vizier, on being informed by Mírzá Ḥasan Khán of this refusal, instructed his brother to carry out the orders under his own authority. Divested of His turban and sash which indicated His lineage, the Báb and His attendants were taken on foot to the barracks, from the house which the Governor had put at their disposal. On the way to the citadel, a youth, barefoot and dishevelled, threw himself at the feet of the Báb, beseeching Him: 'Send me not from Thee, O Master. Wherever Thou goest, suffer me to follow Thee.' To this the Báb replied: 'Muḥammad-`Alí, arise, and rest assured that you will be with Me. Tomorrow you shall witness what God has decreed.'[6]
This youth, Mírzá Muḥammad-`Alíy-i-Zunúzí, had long been devoted to the Báb, but his stepfather[EE] had used every subterfuge to prevent him from meeting the Báb and voicing his allegiance, even going to the length of locking him up in his own house. Shaykh Ḥasan-i-Zunúzí was related to the family, and thus had access to Mírzá Muḥammad-`Alí. Visiting him one day, Shaykh Ḥasan found the youth transformed, no longer wretched and bemoaning his fate, but happy and at peace. 'The eyes of my Beloved,' he told Shaykh Ḥasan, 'have beheld this face, and these eyes have gazed upon His countenance.' He then recounted an experience he had had:
Let me tell you the secret of my happiness. After the Báb had been taken back to Chihríq,[EF] one day, as I lay confined in my cell, I turned my heart to Him and besought Him in these words: 'Thou beholdest, O my Best-Beloved, my captivity and helplessness, and knowest how eagerly I yearn to look upon Thy face. Dispel the gloom that oppresses my heart, with the light of Thy countenance.' What tears of agonising pain I shed that hour! I was so overcome with emotion that I seemed to have lost consciousness. Suddenly I heard the voice of the Báb, and, lo! He was calling me. He bade me arise. I beheld the majesty of His countenance as He appeared before me. He smiled as He looked into my eyes. I rushed forward and flung myself at His feet. 'Rejoice,' He said; 'the hour is approaching when, in this very city, I shall be suspended before the eyes of the multitude and shall fall a victim to the fire of the enemy. I shall choose no one except you to share with Me the cup of martyrdom. Rest assured that this promise which I give you shall be fulfilled.'[7]
Now, two years later, in a thoroughfare of Tabríz, Mírzá Muḥammad-`Alíy-i-Zunúzí received the same promise and assurance from the Báb.
That night the Báb was joyous. He knew that on the following day He would quaff the cup of martyrdom. He also knew that His Mission on this earth was totally accomplished, despite fierce opposition mounted by the divines and rulers of the land, and despite the tyrannies and indignities to which He had been mercilessly subjected. No power had succeeded in quenching the flame of faith which His Word had set ablaze. He had knowingly sacrificed His life for the sake of the Redeemer promised unto all Faiths. The near advent of 'Him Whom God shall make manifest' (Man-Yuẓhiruhu'lláh) had been His constant theme. He had made the acceptance of His own Book—the mighty Bayán—dependent upon the good pleasure of 'Him Whom God shall make manifest', Whom He had addressed in the early days of His Ministry:
O Thou Remnant of God! I have sacrificed myself wholly for Thee; I have accepted curses for Thy sake, and have yearned for naught but martyrdom in the path of Thy love.[8]
And now on this night—His last on earth—He was happy and contented. He told the faithful disciples who were with Him that He preferred to meet His death at the hand of a friend rather than at the hands of enemies, and invited them to fulfil His wish. Among those men who so dearly loved Him, only Mírzá Muḥammad-`Alí dared to undertake that fearsome task, but his companions restrained him. 'This same youth who has risen to comply with My wish,' the Báb said, 'will, together with Me, suffer martyrdom. Him will I choose to share with Me its crown.' And He added: 'Verily Muḥammad-`Alí will be with Us in Paradise.'[9]
Jesus was crucified with two criminals, and St. Luke tells us:
And one of the malefactors which were hanged railed on him, saying, If thou be Christ, save thyself and us.
But the other answering rebuked him, saying, Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation?
And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss.
And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.
And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with me in paradise.[EG]
In the morning they took the Báb to the homes of the leading divines: Mullá Muḥammad-i-Mámaqání, Mullá Murtiḍá-Qulíy-i-Marandí and Mírzá Báqir, to obtain the death-warrants. These men needed no inducement: they had the warrants written, signed and sealed, ready to deliver to the farrásh-báshí, and did not even deign to show their faces to the Prisoner.
Again we are reminded of St. Luke:
And the men that held Jesus mocked him, and smote him.
And when they had blindfolded him, they struck him on the face, and asked him, saying, Prophesy, who is it that smote thee?
And many other things blasphemously spake they against him.
And as soon as it was day, the elders of the people and the chief priests and the scribes came together, and led him into their council, saying,
Art thou the Christ? tell us. And he said unto them, If I tell you, ye will not believe:
And if I also ask you, ye will not answer me, nor let me go.
Hereafter shall the Son of man sit on the right hand of the power of God.
Then said they all, Art thou then the Son of God? And he said unto them, Ye say that I am.
And they said, What need we any further witness? for we ourselves have heard of his own mouth.[EH]
The stepfather of Mírzá Muḥammad-`Alí now made an attempt to save him. Siyyid Ḥusayn-i-Yazdí and his brother, at the instructions of the Báb Himself, had recanted so that they could take to the followers of the Báb His last words and wishes. Mírzá Muḥammad-`Alí refused all blandishments, declared his desire to die with his Master, and told Mullá Muḥammad-i-Mámaqání to his face: 'I am not mad. Such a charge should rather be brought against you who have sentenced to death a man no less holy than the promised Qá'im. He is not a fool who has embraced His Faith and is longing to shed his blood in His path.'[10] His young child was brought to him. They thought that, perchance, the sight of the boy might soften his heart. But Mírzá Muḥammad-`Alí's resolve remained unshaken. God would provide for his child and protect him.
So at noon they led the Báb and His disciple to the square in front of the citadel of Tabríz. Sám Khán, the commander of the Armenian regiment detailed to execute them, was ill at ease. The Prisoner looked kind and compassionate. For what crime was He to be put to death? Unable to still the voice of his conscience, Sám Khán approached the Báb: 'I profess the Christian Faith and entertain no ill will against you. If your Cause be the Cause of Truth, enable me to free myself from the obligation to shed your blood.' To this the Báb replied: 'Follow your instructions, and if your intention be sincere, the Almighty is surely able to relieve you from your perplexity.'[11]
The Báb and His disciple were suspended by ropes from a nail in the wall, the head of Mírzá Muḥammad-`Alí resting on the breast of the Báb. Seven hundred and fifty soldiers were positioned in three files. Roofs of the buildings around teemed with spectators.
Each row of soldiers fired in turn. The smoke from so many rifles clouded the scene. When it lifted the Báb was not there. Only His disciple could be seen, standing under the nail in the wall, smiling and unconcerned. Bullets had only severed the ropes with which they were suspended. Cries rang out from the onlookers: 'The Siyyid-i-Báb has gone from our sight!'
A frantic search followed. The Báb was found, sitting in the same room where He had been lodged the night before, in conversation with His amanuensis. That conversation had been interrupted earlier in the day. Now it was finished and He told the farrásh-báshí to carry out his duty. But the farrásh-báshí was terror-stricken and ran away, nor did he ever return to his post. Sám Khán, for his part, told his superiors that he had carried out the task given to him; he would not attempt it a second time. So Áqá Ján Khán-i-Khamsih and his Náṣirí regiment replaced the Armenians, and the Báb and His disciple were suspended once again at the same spot.
Now the Báb addressed the multitude gathered to see Him die:
Had you believed in Me, O wayward generation, every one of you would have followed the example of this youth, who stood in rank above most of you, and willingly would have sacrificed himself in My path. The day will come when you will have recognised Me; that day I shall have ceased to be with you.[12]
And St. Luke relates:
And there followed him a great company of people, and of women, which also bewailed and lamented him.
But Jesus turning unto them said, Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, and for your children.
For, behold, the days are coming, in the which they shall say, Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bare, and the paps which never gave suck.
Then shall they begin to say to the mountains, Fall on us; and to the hills, Cover us.[EI]
The Náṣirí regiment fired. The bodies of the Báb and His disciple were shattered, and their flesh was united. But the face of the Báb was untouched. Then a storm descended upon Tabríz. Tempestuous winds blew and dust darkened the skies, and the skies remained dark, until the darkness of the day merged into the darkness of the night.
And it was about the sixth hour, and there was a darkness over all the earth until the ninth hour.
And the sun was darkened, and the veil of the temple was rent in the midst.
And when Jesus had cried with a loud voice, he said, Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit: and having said thus, he gave up the ghost.[EJ]
Thus at noon, one midsummer day—Sunday July 9th 1850[EK]—they put to death a Manifestation of God, just as at noon, centuries before, another Manifestation of God was slain.
When night fell, they dragged the bodies through the streets of Tabríz, and threw them on the edge of the moat surrounding the city. Soldiers were stationed there to guard over them, lest the Bábís attempt to retrieve the precious remains. Not far away, two Bábís, feigning madness, kept vigil throughout the night.
Next morning the Russian Consul took an artist with him to make a drawing of the remains of the Báb.
Sulaymán Khán, that loyal disciple who attained the presence of the Báb in Chihríq, reached Tabríz the day after His martyrdom. He had intended to rescue his Master. But that was not to be. Now, he went straightway to Ḥájí Mírzá Mihdí Khán, the Kalántar (Mayor) of Tabríz, who was a friend of long standing, and told him that he had decided to dare everything that very night and carry the bodies away by a surprise attack on the soldiers guarding them on the edge of the moat. The Kalántar told Sulaymán Khán to withdraw for the moment and assured him that there was a much safer and more reliable way to achieve his purpose.
There was in Tabríz a certain Ḥájí Alláh-Yár, a confidant of the Kalántar, well-known for his exploits. Instructed by the Kalántar, Ḥájí Alláh-Yár used such means as he knew best to take the bodies away from under the eyes of the soldiers. He delivered the remains to Sulaymán Khán, who had them moved to the silk factory of Ḥájí Aḥmad, a Bábí of Mílán. There they were enshrouded and hidden under the bales of silk. Next day a casket was made to contain them, and they were sent away to safety. Ḥájí Alláh-Yár refused to accept any reward for his service.[13]
Soldiers reported the disappearance of the bodies. Wild beasts had devoured the remains, they alleged, while they slept. And the divines gave credence to that story and shouted for joy. What better proof could there be to show how false the Siyyid-i-Báb was? Beasts do not, cannot consume the remains of the Imám.[EL]