For the enemy, the defeat was crushing, and decisive of the the nation’s fate. It was little more than thirty months since Khâlid had set foot upon Irâc, and already that empire, which fifteen years before had humbled the Roman arms, had ravaged Syria, and encamped triumphantly on the Bosphorus, was crumbling under the blows of an enemy whose strength never exceeded thirty or forty thousand Arabs rudely armed. The battle of Câdesîya reveals the secret. On one side there was but a lukewarm, servile following; on the other, an indomitable spirit that nerved every heart and arm, and after long weary hours of fighting enabled the Moslems to deliver the final and decisive charge. The result was, that the vast host, on which the last efforts of the empire had been spent, was totally discomfited; and, although broken columns escaped across the river, the military power of the empire never again gathered itself into formidable shape. The country far and wide was terror-struck. An important though indirect effect was that the Bedouin tribes on the Euphrates hesitated no longer. Many of them, though Christian, had fought on the Moslem side. Some of these now came to Sád and said: ‘The tribes which at the first embraced Islam were wiser than we. Now that Rustem hath been slain, all will accept the new belief.’ So there came over many tribes in a body and made profession of the faith.
Tidings how received by Omar.
The battle had been so long impending, and the preparations of the empire on so grand a scale, that the issue was watched all over the country, ‘from Odzeib away south to Aden, and from Obolla across to Jerusalem,’ as that which would decide the fate of Islam.[279] The Caliph used to issue forth alone from the gates of Medîna early in the morning, if perchance he might meet some messenger from the field of battle. At last a courier arrived outside the city, who to Omar’s question replied shortly, ‘The Lord hath discomfited the Persian host.’ Unrecognised, Omar followed the camel-rider on foot, and gleaned from him the outline of the great battle. Entering Medîna, the people crowded round the Caliph, and, saluting, wished him joy of the triumph. The courier, abashed, cried out, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, why didst thou not tell me?’ ‘It is well, my brother,’ was the Caliph’s simple answer. Such was the unpretending mien of one who at that moment was greater than either the Kaiser or the Chosroes.
CHAPTER XVII.
EVENTS FOLLOWING THE BATTLE OF CADESIYA—CAPTURE OF MEDAIN.
A.H. XV., XVI. A.D. 636–7.
Sád re-occupies Hîra, end of A.H. XIV. January, A.D. 636.
After his victory, Sád, by desire of the Caliph, paused for a little on the field of Câdesîya, and allowed the weary troops to rest. Fragments of the great Persian host escaped, broken and dispersed, in the direction of the ruins of Babylon, and rallied there, on the right bank of the Euphrates. After two months’ repose, Sád, now recovered from his sickness, advanced to attack them. One or two short marches brought him to Hîra. It was the third time the unfortunate city had been taken and retaken. The punishment for this its last helpless defection from the Moslem cause, was the doubling of its tribute. Soon supplanted by Kûfa, at a few miles’ distance, the once royal city speedily dwindled into a common village. But the neighbouring palace of Khawarnac, the beautiful residence of the Lakhmite princes, was left standing on the lake of Najaf, and was sometimes visited, as a country seat, by the Caliphs in after days.
The Persians driven across the plain to Madâin, and the Sawâd reoccupied.
As the Moslems advanced, the Persian troops made a stand, first at Birs Nimrûd,[280] and then, recrossing the Euphrates, under the great mound of Babylon. Driven from thence with loss, they fell back upon the Tigris. Sád then pitched a standing camp at Babylon, and, himself remaining there, sent forward his lieutenants, Hâshim and Zohra. A.H. XV. A.D. 636.These, in a series of minor but decisive engagements, cleared the plain of Dura, here about fifty miles broad, from the Euphrates to the Tigris.[281] The territorial chiefs from all sides came in, tendering their allegiance, some as converts, some as tributaries; and the Arabs again became undisputed masters of the whole Sawâd, with the channels and canals intersecting it. Several months thus passed; and at last, in the summer of A.D. 636, Sád found himself able, now with the full consent of Omar, to make an advance upon Medâin.[282]
The queen-mother is discomfited.
This royal city of Persia was built, as we have seen, on both banks of the Tigris, at a sharp and double bend of the river, fifteen miles below the modern Baghdad. Seleucia, on the right bank, was the original seat of the Alexandrian conquerors. On the opposite shore had grown up Ctesiphon, the winter residence of the Persian monarchs. The combined city had now for ages superseded Babylon as the capital of Chaldæa. Though repeatedly taken by the Romans, it was now great and prosperous, but helplessly torn by intrigue and enervated by luxury. The main quarter, with its royal palaces, was on the eastern side, where the noble arch, the Tâk i Kesra, still arrests the traveller’s eye as he floats down the Tigris.[283] On the nearer side was the suburb, Bahar Sair;[284] and towards it, as immediately accessible to attack, Sád now directed his march. Burân, the queen-mother, animated by the ancient spirit of the Sassanides, and swearing with a great oath that so long as the dynasty survived, the empire was invincible, herself took the field, with an army commanded by a veteran general, ‘the lion of Chosroes.’ She was utterly discomfited, and her champion slain by the hand of Hâshim. When he came to announce the victory, his cousin Sád kissed Hâshim’s forehead, in token of approval and delight; and Hâshim kissed the feet of Sád.