"If a wound hath befallen you, a wound like it hath already befallen others; we alternate these days (of good and evil fortune) among men, that God may know those who have believed and that He may take martyrs from among you."—The Kuran.
The Jews had been alternately forced and cajoled into submission, the Disaffected had been swept into temporary loyalty after the triumph at Bedr, his own followers were magnificently proud of his dominance, the Kureisch had made as yet no serious endeavours to avenge their humiliation at Bedr; moreover, the religious and political affairs of the city had been regulated so that it was possible to carry on the usual business of life in security—a security which certainly possessed no guaranteed permanence, and which might at any moment crack beneath the feet of those who walked thereon and plunge them back into an anarchy of warring creeds and chiefs—still a security such as Medina had seldom known, built up by the one strong personality within its walls.
For a few months Mahomet could live in peace among his followers, and the interest shifts not to his religious ordinances and work of government—these had been successfully started, and were now continuing almost automatically—but to his domestic life and his relations with his intimate circle of friends. As his years increased he felt the continual need of companionship and consolation, and while he sought for advice in government and counsel in war from such men as Abu Bekr, Ali, and Othman, he found solace and refreshment in the ministering hands of women.
Sawda he already possessed, and her slow softness and unimaginative mind had already begun to pall; Ayesha, with her beauty and shrewdness, her jewel-like nature, bright and almost as hard, could lessen the continual strain of his life, and induce by a kind of reflex action that tireless energy of mind find body which was the secret of his power. But these were not enough, and now he sought fresh pleasure in Haphsa, and in other and lesser women, though he never cast away his earlier loves, still with the same unformulated desire, to obtain some respite from the cares which beset him, some renewal of his vivid nature, burning with self-destroying fire.
The emotional stimulus, whose agents women were, became for him as necessary as prayer, and we see him in later life adding experience after experience in his search for solace, nevertheless cleaving most to Ayesha, whose vitality fulfilled his intensest need. Secondary to the necessity of refreshment came the not inconsiderable duty of securing the permanence of his power by the foundation of a line of male successors. His earlier marriages had been productive only of daughters, while his later unions, and also his most recent with Haphsa, had been unfruitful. But though so far no direct male issue had been vouchsafed him, he was careful to unite with himself the most important men in his state by marriage with his children, binding them thereby with the closest blood ties. Rockeya, now dead, had married the warrior Othman, and Fatima, the Prophet's youngest daughter, was bestowed upon the bright and impetuous Ali, whose exploits in warfare had filled the Muslim with pride and a wondering fear. Of this marriage were born the famous Hassan and Hosein, names written indelibly upon the Muslim roll of fame.
As each inmate became added to his household, rough houses, almost huts, were built for their reception, but the Prophet himself had no abiding place, only a council-chamber, where he conducted public business, and dwelt by turn in the houses of his wives, but delighted most to visit Ayesha, who occupied the foremost position by virtue of her beauty and personality. Mahomet's household grew up gradually near the Mosque in this manner; together with the houses of his sons-in-law, not far away, and the sacred place itself, it constituted the centre of activity for the Muslim world, witnessing the arrival and despatch of embassies, the administration of justice and public business, the performance of the Muslim religious ceremonial, the Kuranic revelations of Allah's will. It radiated Mahomet's personality, and concentrated for his followers all the enthusiasm and persistence that had gone to its creation, as well as the endurance and foresight ensuring its continuance.
But such security was not permanently possible for Mahomet; his spirit was doomed to perpetual sojourn amid tumult and effort. It was almost twelve months since the victory of Bedr. The broken Kureisch had had time to recover themselves, and they were now prepared for revenge. The wealth of Abu Sofian's caravan, so dearly acquired, had not been distributed after Bedr. It remained inviolate at Mecca, a weapon wherefrom was to be wrought their bitter vengeance. All their fighting men were massed into a great host. Horses and armour, weapons and trappings were bought with their hoarded wealth, and at length, 3000 strong, including 700 mailed warriors and 200 well-mounted cavalry, they prepared to set forth upon their work of punishment.
Not only were their own citizens pressed into the service, but the fighting men from allied neighbouring tribes, who were very ready to take part in an expedition that promised excitement and bloodshed, with the hope of plunder. The wives of their chief men implored permission to go with the army, pointing out their usefulness and their great eagerness to share the coming triumph. But many warriors murmured against this, for the undertaking was a difficult one, and they knew the discomforts of a long march. At length fifteen specially privileged women were allowed to travel with the host, among them Hind, the fierce wife of Abu Sofian, who brought in her train an immense negro, specially reserved for her crowning act of vengeance, the murder of Hamza, in revenge for the slaying of her father. The army took the easier seaward route, travelling as before in all the pomp and gorgeousness of Eastern warfare, and finally reached the valley of Akik, five miles west of Medina. Thence they turned to the left, so as to command a more vulnerable place in the city's defences, and finally encamped at Ohod at the base of the hill on a fertile plain, separated from the city to the north by several rocky ridges, impassable for such an army.
Mahomet's first news of the premeditated attack reached him through his uncle Abbas, that weak doubter, who never could make up his mind to become either the friend or the foe of Islam. He sent a messenger to Coba to say that the Kureiseh were advancing in force. Mahomet was inevitably the leader of the city in spite of the bad feeling between himself and certain sections within it. Jews and Disaffected alike looked to him for leadership in such a crisis; by virtue of his former prowess his counsels were sought.
Mahomet knew perfectly well that this attacking force was unlike the last, which had been gathered together hurriedly and had underestimated its opposition. He knew that besides a better equipment they possessed the strongest incentive to daring and determination, the desire to avenge some wrong. It was with no false estimate of their foe that he counselled his followers to remain in their city and allow the enemy to waste his strength on their defences. Abdallah agreed with the Prophet's decision, but the younger section, and especially those who had not fought at Bedr, were clamorously dissentient. They pointed out that if Mahomet did not go forth to meet the Kureisch he would lay himself open to the charge of cowardice, and they openly declared that their loyalty to the Prophet would not endure this outrage, but would turn to contempt. Against his will Mahomet was forced into action. He might succeed in defeating his foe, and at all events his position would not endure the disloyalty and disaffection that his refusal would entail.