“In the morning he drew up his little army, and, pointing with an arrow which he held in his hand, arranged the ranks. The previous day he had placed the chief banner, that of the Refugees, in the hands of Musâl, who nobly proved his right to the distinction. The Khazrajite ensign was committed to Hobâb; that of the Bani Aus, to Sâd ibn Muâdz.
“Meanwhile, dissension again broke out in the camp of the Coreish, on the policy of fighting against their kinsmen. Shaiba and Otba (ʿUtbah), two chiefs of rank, influenced, it is said, by their slave Addâs (the same who comforted the Prophet on his flight from Tâyif), strongly urged that the attack should be abandoned. Just then, Omeir, a diviner by arrows, having ridden hastily round the valley, returned to report the result of his reconnaissance. ‘Ye Coreish,’ he said, after telling them his estimate of the enemy’s number, ‘calamities approach you, fraught with destruction. Inevitable death rideth upon the camels of Yathreb (Yas̤rib). It is a people that hath neither defence nor refuge but in their swords. They are dumb as the grave; their tongues they put forth with the serpent’s deadly aim. Not a man of them shall we kill, but in his stead one of ourselves also will be slain; and when there shall have been slaughtered amongst us a number equal unto them, of what avail will life be to us after that?’ These words began to produce a pacific effect, when Abu Jahl, as before, loudly opposed the proposals for peace. Turning to Amir the Hadhramite, he bade him call to mind the blood of his brother slain at Nakhla. The flame was rekindled. Amir threw off his clothes, cast dust upon his body, and began frantically to cry aloud his brother’s name. The deceased had been a confederate of the family of Shaiba and Otba (ʿUtbah). Their pride and honour were affected. They saw that thoughts of peace must now be scattered to the winds; and they resolved signally to vindicate themselves from the imputation of cowardice cast on them by Abu Jahl. The army was drawn up in line. The three standards for the centre and wings were borne, according to ancient privilege, by members of the house of Abd al Dar. They moved forward but slowly over the intervening sand-hills, which the rain had made heavy and fatiguing. The same cause, acting with less intensity, had rendered the ground in front of Mahomet lighter and more firm to walk upon. The Coreish laboured under another disadvantage; they had the rising sun before them, while the army of Medîna faced the west.
“Mahomet had barely arrayed his line of battle, when the advanced column of the enemy was discerned over the rising sands in front. Their greatly superior numbers were concealed by the fall of the ground behind, and this imparted confidence to the Moslems. But Mahomet was fully alive to the critical position. The fate of Islam hung upon the issue of the approaching battle. Followed by Abu Bakr, he hastened for a moment into the little hut, and raising his hands, poured forth these earnest petitions, ‘O Lord, I beseech Thee, forget not Thy promise of assistance and of victory. O Lord! if this little band be vanquished, idolatry will prevail, and the pure worship of thee cease from off the earth!’ ‘The Lord,’ said Abu Bakr, comforting him, ‘will surely come to thine aid, and will lighten thy countenance with the joy of victory.’
“The time for action had arrived. Mahomet again came forth. The enemy was already close; but the army of Medîna remained still. Mahomet had no cavalry to cover an advance, and before superior numbers he must keep close his ranks. Accordingly the Prophet had strictly forbidden his followers to stir till he should give the order for advance; only they were to check any flank movement of the Coreish by the discharge of arrows. The cistern was guarded as their palladium. Certain desperate warriors of the Coreish swore that they would drink water from it, destroy it, or perish in the attempt. Scarcely one returned from the rash enterprise. With signal gallantry, Aswad advanced close to the brink, when a blow from Hamza’s sword fell upon his leg, and nearly severed it from his body. Still defending himself, he crawled inwards and made good his vow; for he drank of the water, and with his remaining leg demolished part of the cistern before the sword of Hamza put an end to his life.
“Already, after the fashion of Arabian warfare, single combats had been fought at various points, when the two brothers Shaiba and Otba, and Walîd the son of Otba, still smarting from the words of Abu Jahl, advanced into the space between the armies, and defied three champions from the army of Mahomet to meet them singly. Three citizens of Medîna stepped forward; but Mahomet, unwilling either that the glory or the burden of the opening conflict should rest with his allies, called them back; and, turning to his kinsmen said: ‘Ye sons of Hâshim! arise and fight, according to your right.’ Then Obeida (ʿUbaidah), Hamza, and Ali, the uncle and cousins of the Prophet, went forth. Hamza wore an ostrich feather in his breast, and a white plume distinguished the helmet of Ali. But their features were hid by their armour. Otba, therefore, not knowing who his opponents might be, cried aloud, ‘Speak, that we may recognise you! If ye be equals, we shall fight with you.’ Hamza answered, ‘I am the son of Abd al Muttalib—Hamza, the Lion of God, and the Lion of His Prophet.’ ‘A worthy foe,’ exclaimed Otba; ‘but who are these others with thee?’ Hamza repeated their names. Otba replied, ‘Meet foes, every one!’
“Then Otba called to his son Walîd, ‘Arise and fight.’ So Walîd stepped forth and Ali came out against him. They were the youngest of the six. The combat was short; Walîd fell mortally wounded by the sword of Ali. Eager to avenge his son’s death, Otba hastened forward, and Hamza advanced to meet him. The swords gleamed quick, and again the Coreishite warrior was slain by the Moslim lion. Shaiba alone remained of the three champions of Mecca; and Obeida, the veteran of the Moslems, threescore years and five, now drew near to fight with him. Both being well advanced in years, the conflict was less decisive than before. At last, Shaiba dealt a sword-cut on the leg of Obeida with such force as to sever the tendon, and bring him to the ground. Seeing this, Hamza and Ali both rushed on Shaiba and despatched him. Obeida survived but for a few days, and was buried on the march back at Safra.
“The fate of their champions was ominous for the Coreish, and their spirits sank. The ranks began to close, with the battle-cry on the Moslem side of, ‘Ye conquerors, strike!’ and the fighting became general. But there were still many of those scenes of individual bravery which characterise the irregular warfare of Asiatic armies, and often impart to them a Homeric interest. Prodigies of valour were exhibited on both sides; but the army of the Faithful was borne forward by an enthusiasm which the half-hearted Coreish were unable to withstand.
“What part Mahomet himself took in the battle is not clear. Some traditions represent him moving along the ranks with a drawn sword. It is more likely (according to others) that he contented himself with inciting his followers by the promise of divine assistance, and by holding out the prospect of Paradise to those who fell. The spirit of Omeir, a lad of but sixteen years, was kindled within him as he listened to the Prophet’s words. Tradition delights to tell of the ardour with which the stripling threw away a handful of dates which he was eating. ‘Is it these,’ he exclaimed, ‘that hold me back from Paradise? Verily I will taste no more of them until I meet my Lord!’ With such words, he drew his sword, and, casting himself upon the enemy, soon obtained the fate he coveted.
“It was a stormy wintry day. A piercing blast swept across the valley. ‘That,’ said Mahomet, ‘is Gabriel with a thousand angels flying as a whirlwind at our foe.’ Another, and yet another blast:—it was Michael, and after him, Seraphîl, each with a like angelic troop. The battle raged. The Prophet stooped, and lifting a handful of gravel, cast it towards the Coreish, and cried, ‘Confusion seize their faces!’ The action was well timed. The line of the Coreish began to waver. Their movements were impeded by the heavy sands on which they stood; and, when the ranks gave way, their numbers added but confusion. The Moslems followed eagerly on their retreating steps, slaying or taking captive all that fell within their reach. Retreat soon turned into ignominious flight. The Coreish, in their haste to escape, cast away their armour and abandoned their beasts of burden with the camp and equipage. Forty-nine were killed, and about the same number taken prisoners. Mahomet lost only fourteen, of whom eight were citizens of Medîna, and six Refugees.
“Many of the principal men of the Coreish, and some of Mahomet’s bitterest opponents, were slain. Chief amongst these was Abu Jahl. Muâdz brought him to the ground by a blow which cut his leg in two. Muâdz, in his turn, was attacked by Ikrima (ʿIkrimah), the son of Abu Jahl, and his arm nearly severed from his shoulder. As the mutilated limb hanging by the skin impeded his action, Muâdz put his foot upon it, pulled it off, and went on his way fighting. Such were the heroes of Bedr. Abu Jahl was yet breathing when Abdallah, Mahomet’s servant, ran up, and cutting off his head, carried it to his master. ‘The head of the enemy of God!’ exclaimed Mahomet. ‘God! There is none other God but He!’ ‘There is no other!’ responded Abdallah, as he cast the bloody head at the Prophet’s feet. ‘It is more acceptable to me,’ cried Mahomet, ‘than the choicest camel in all Arabia.’