Would That My Mother Were With Me: The Martyrdom of Quddús

In the early months of 1849, Mullá Ḥusayn fell at the defences of Fort Ṭabarsí — mortally wounded by a musket ball at the height of one of the night sorties he had commanded. Nabíl records his final hours with the precision of a man for whom each detail is sacred:

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> Today we shall have all the water we require for our bath... > Whoso is willing to partake of the cup of martyrdom, let him > prepare himself.

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He died, in Quddús’s arms, with the calm of one who had foreseen the day for years.

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After Mullá Ḥusayn’s death, Quddús — the youngest of the Letters of the Living and the only person besides Bahá’u’lláh to have received from the Báb a personal commentary — became the company’s leader. Mírzá Muḥammad-Báqir directed the defences in the field; Quddús held the inner spiritual centre.

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The fort, surrounded for months, eventually ran short of every supply except the courage of those within it. Cannon shells fell into the timber-and-mud structure with no apparent effect on the men inside. Nabíl quotes Quddús dismissing the bombardment with one of his characteristic sentences:

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> How utterly unaware are these boastful aggressors of the power > of God’s avenging wrath!

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The end came not by force but by treachery. Prince Mihdí-Qulí Mírzá, the imperial commander, sent envoys with sworn copies of the Qur’án and personal pledges of safe conduct. Trusting the oath, the Bábís opened the gates. The massacre began at once.

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Quddús was taken alive to Bárfurúsh, his birthplace. The prince, presented with his prisoner, declined either to release him or to defend him. Nabíl preserves the formula by which the prince conveniently surrendered moral responsibility:

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> I wash my hands of all responsibility for any harm that may > befall this man... You are free to do what you like with him.

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The mob took him to the public square. He was tortured for hours. Pieces of his body were cut from him while he still lived. He prayed throughout. His final words, Nabíl preserves, called on his absent mother and on the wedding-language with which he had often spoken of his death:

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> Would that my mother were with me — the splendour of my > nuptials.

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He was killed in the *Sabzih-Maydán* of his own home town. He was twenty-seven years old. The Báb, on hearing the news, ceased His writing for nine days.

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