The Báb's entry into Tabríz, the scene three years later of His martyrdom in its public square, bears close resemblance to the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, less than a week before He was led to Golgotha to be crucified.

And they that went before, and they that followed, cried, saying, Hosanna! Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord!

Blessed be the kingdom of our father David, that cometh in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest![DC]

That is how St. Mark recounts the joy of the people who gave Jesus a regal welcome into Jerusalem.

When the Báb was brought into Tabríz the streets were crowded, and amongst the surging mass were Bábís who had been deprived of coming close to their Master; but vast numbers were there who were not His followers. Those narrow thoroughfares echoed with the cry of `Alláh-u-Akbar'—God is the Greatest—the opening line of the Adhán, the call to prayer which every devout Muslim repeats time and again in the course of his devotions. Officials were alarmed by this wonderful and unprecedented reception, and sent town criers to warn the people against attempting to gain access to the Siyyid-i-Báb.

`Abdu'l-Bahá states that the Báb was kept for forty days in Tabríz.[6] During that time He was strictly secluded, and His only visitors were Ḥájí Muḥammad-Taqíy-i-Mílání, a well-known merchant, and Ḥájí `Alí-`Askar.[DD] When they first approached the house where the Báb was lodged, guards stopped them, but Siyyid Hasan asserted the authority of the Báb and gained them admittance. After that no one ever tried to bar their way, and they attained the presence of the Báb several times.

At last came the orders for the removal of the Báb to Máh-Kú. That town was the birthplace of Ḥájí Mírzá Áqásí, although he is generally known as Íravání[DE] because his family originated there. The vast majority of the inhabitants of Máh-Kú and its environs were Kurds who were Sunní by persuasion. `Alí Khán, the warden of the castle, was a Kurd, simple, rough and uncouth. He was arrogantly unbending at the start of the Báb's incarceration, and would not allow any follower of the Báb to stay in the town, even for one night. When Shaykh Ḥasan-i-Zunúzí reached Máh-Kú he found that the only shelter available to him was a mosque outside the town. But he was able to meet and exchange letters and messages with Siyyid Ḥasan, who came into the town each day with a guard to buy provisions, and thus for a while he maintained a link between the Báb and His people.

But one day the Báb advised Siyyid Ḥasan that these secret contacts with Shaykh Ḥasan were to end; He Himself would tell `Ali Khán to permit visitors to come and go in peace. Both men were greatly astonished, since they knew well the character and attitude of the warden, who had even tried to prevent the people of Máh-Kú from coming to the foot of the mountain to obtain a glimpse of the Báb. By now the Báb had won the love and esteem of these hardened frontiersmen, who had shown such marked hostility when He was first brought to their fortress, nor could `Ali Khán prevent their gathering daily at the mountain's base to gaze upwards in the hope of receiving His blessing.

At an early hour on the morning following the Báb's advice to Siyyid Ḥasan, the inmates of the castle were startled by an incessant and agitated knocking. It was `Ali Khán, peremptorily pounding the gate and shouting at the guardsmen for admittance. A guard rushed in to say that the warden wished to come immediately into the presence of the Báb. Siyyid Ḥusayn presented the request, and the Báb replied that He would receive `Ali Khán at once. The warden was visibly shaking, obviously caught up by some tremendous emotion. He threw himself at the feet of the Báb and begged to be relieved of his misery:

'Deliver me from my perplexity. I adjure You, by the Prophet of God, Your illustrious Ancestor, to dissipate my doubts, for their weight has well-nigh crushed my heart. I was riding through the wilderness and was approaching the gate of the town, when, it being the hour of dawn, my eyes suddenly beheld You standing by the side of the river engaged in offering Your prayer. With outstretched arms and upraised eyes, You were invoking the name of God. I stood still and watched You. I was waiting for You to terminate Your devotions that I might approach and rebuke You for having ventured to leave the castle without my leave. In Your communion with God, You seemed so wrapt in worship that You were utterly forgetful of Yourself. I quietly approached You; in Your state of rapture, You remained wholly unaware of my presence. I was suddenly seized with great fear and recoiled at the thought of awakening You from Your ecstasy. I decided to leave You, to proceed to the guards and to reprove them for their negligent conduct. I soon found out, to my amazement, that both the outer and inner gates were closed. They were opened at my request, I was ushered into Your presence, and now find You, to my wonder, seated before me. I am utterly confounded. I know not whether my reason has deserted me.' The Báb answered and said: 'What you have witnessed is true and undeniable. You belittled this Revelation and have contemptuously disdained its Author. God, the All-Merciful, desiring not to afflict you with His punishment, has willed to reveal to your eyes the Truth. By His Divine interposition, He has instilled into your heart the love of His chosen One, and caused you to recognise the unconquerable power of His Faith.'[7]