As this strange association, the Order of Assassins, played a most important part in the political events of the period of which we are speaking, a more detailed account of their origin and tenets may not be out of place here.
The national aversion of the Persians from the religion of their Mohammedan conquerors gave rise to a number of secret sects and societies having for their object the subversion of Islam, and in the hatred which already existed between the two great divisions of that creed, the Sunnís and Shiahs, the leaders and originators of these sects found a ready means of securing proselytes and adherents. In the year 815, a chief named Babek founded a new religious order and waged an open war against the Caliphs, by whom he was, however, defeated and exterminated. But while his partisans fell beneath the sword of the executioner there was living at Ahwas, in the south of Persia, a certain ‘Abdallah, grandson of Daisán the dualist, who had inherited the hatred which his grandfather had sworn against the faith and power of the Arabs. Warned by the fate of Babek’s followers, he determined to undermine insidiously what he could not with safety openly attack. He accordingly formed a society into which proselytes were only admitted upon proof, and after being sworn to the profoundest secrecy. The initiation consisted of seven degrees, in the last of which he taught—that all religions were mere chimeras and human actions indifferent. His missionaries spread over the whole of the East, and carried their peculiar doctrines into Syria, where one of them, named Ahmed ibn Eshk‘as el Carmatí, founded the sect of Carmathians, whose history has been already traced. ‘Obeid allah el Mehdí, the founder of the Fatemite dynasty, was a followeŕ of El Carmatí, and from the moment when El Mehdí made himself master of Egypt the Carmathian tenets prevailed in that country, under the name of the Ismá̔ilíyeh. They were propagated by official agents, of whom the chief was named dái̒ ed do‘át, “missionary of missionaries,” and cádhí el codhát, “judge of judges.” In the year 1004, they held public assemblies in Cairo under the presidency of the last-mentioned officer. These meetings were called mejális el hikmeh, or “scientific meetings,” and were devoted to instructing those present in the mathematical and other sciences; but such as were considered worthy, were admitted to a more intimate participation in their mysteries, and were taught the secret doctrines of the sect, consisting of a strange mélange of Persian and Gnostic ideas.
We have already seen how this institution was made to subserve the interests and pander to the mad fanaticism of El Hákem bi amri ’llah, and indirectly gave birth to the powerful sect of the Druzes.
During the last half of the eleventh century one of the Ismaelite missionaries, Hassan ibn Subáh el Homáirí, became the founder of the new sect of the Ismaelites of the East, or Assassins. Hassan was born in Khorassan; in his youth he contracted an intimate friendship with Nizám el Mulk and ‘Omar el Kheiyám, and the three associates took a solemn oath mutually to advance each other’s prospects in after life. ‘Omar el Kheiyám became celebrated as an astronomer and poet;[[65]] and Nizám el Mulk attained to the office of grand vizier, under the Seljukian Sultán Melik sháh. Hassán es Subah sought and obtained the assistance of his former companion, and was promoted to high office in the court. Prompted, however, by ambition, he endeavoured to supplant his benefactor, but Nizám el Mulk discovered and counteracted his designs, and Hassan was driven in disgrace from the kings presence. Not long afterwards he founded the order of Assassins, and Melik Sháh and his vizier were among the first of his victims. In 1090, he made himself master of the fortress of Alamút, built on the summit of a lofty mountain, with steep escarpments, a little distance from Casbín in the Persian province of ‘Irák. This castle he fortified and supplied with water, partly from artificial and partly from natural springs, and, by compelling the inhabitants to cultivate the surrounding land and store the produce in the subterranean granaries of the castle, he rendered it capable of sustaining a protracted siege.
[65]. His ‘Quatrains,’ stanzas of exquisite polish, but breathing the most sensual and atheistic philosophy, have been recently published by M. Nicholas, Paris, 1867.
Although the secret doctrines of the Ismaelites were taught in nine degrees, there were but two ranks in the order, namely the refik, or “companion,” and dá‘í, or “missionary.” Hassan instituted a third class, that of the fedawí, or “devoted one.” For them the secrets of the order were always covered with an impenetrable veil, and they were but the blind instruments of vengeance or aggression in the hands of their superior. They composed the body-guard of the grand master, and were never for a single moment without their daggers, so as to be ever ready to perpetrate murders at his command.
Marco Polo gives us a substantial, and doubtless exact, account of the ceremonies which took place upon the initiation of a fedawí into the order. Within the precincts of their impregnable fortresses were gardens furnished with all that could delight the eye or appeal to the sensual taste of the voluptuary. Here the neophyte was led, delicious meats and wine of exquisite flavour were set before him, girls as beautiful as the houris of the prophet’s paradise ministered to his pleasures, enchanting music ravished his ears, his every wish was gratified almost before it was uttered, and, intoxicated with delight, he fancied that he had really entered upon the joys of the blessed. An intoxicating drug had in the meanwhile been mixed with the wine, and, by producing a sort of delirium, for a time enhanced his enjoyment, but as the satiety and languor consequent upon excess crept over him he fell back stupefied and insensible, in which state he was carried out of the place. On awaking he found himself beside the grand master, who told him that all the joys he had experienced were but a foretaste of what was destined for those who yielded implicit obedience to his commands. The alternative for those who doubted or hesitated was instant death.
The youth thus “devoted” to the service of the order was carefully trained in all the arts of deception and disguise; he was taught to speak various languages, and to assume a variety of dresses and characters; and, loosed from all trammels of conscience or of creed, he went forth, prepared to plunge his dagger into the breast of his dearest friend, and even into his own, at his superior’s command. Such an association could not but prove a formidable political agent in those troublous times, and the sovereigns of the East feared the secret dagger of the order more than the armies of their foes, and rendered to the grand master whatever tribute and homage he chose to demand. Towards the middle of the twelfth century the power of the Assassins had extended itself from Khorassan to the mountains of Syria, from the Mediterranean to the Caspian. All trembled before it, and submitted more or less to its will. Hassan died in 1124, after having chosen for his successor Kia Buzurgumíd, one of the most strenuous of his dá‘ís; and the dignity of grand master became ultimately hereditary in his family. The order of Assassins continued in its integrity until 1254, when Manjou Khan, grandson of the celebrated Jenghíz Khan, put an end to its existence. As for the association of the Ismaelites in Cairo, the Mejális el Hikmeh, or scientific lodges, they were finally suppressed by Saladin in the year 1171 A.D.
The Grand Master of the Assassins was called simply sheikh, “elder,” or “chief;” and from his rocky fortresses of Alamút and Maziatt he was known as Sheikh el Jebel, “Sheikh of the Mountain.” The Crusaders, misinterpreting the title, always spoke of him as the “Old Man of the Mountain.”
There is little doubt but that the order of Knights Templars, who figure so largely in the history of the Crusades, were a society closely akin to the Assassins. The different grades of rank amongst them correspond exactly with the several degrees of the Ismaelite fraternity. Their dress, white with a red cross, symbolizing innocence and blood, is almost identical with the garb of the Fedawís, while the irreligious practices and secret murders, which are clearly proved against them, all tend to establish the conviction that they were rather Knights of the Dagger than of the Cross.