Not one of the fighting men of this forlorn band escaped alive. But they fought bravely; and left of their foes, more than their own number dead upon the field. Two sons of Hosein, Aly Akbar[593] and Abdallah, perished early in the day; and, at its close, there were amongst the dead no less than six brothers of Hosein, the sons of Aly; two nephews, sons of his brother Hasan; and six others, descendants of Abu Tâlib, the father of Aly and uncle of Mahomet.[594] The camp was plundered; but no further indignity was offered to the inmates, mostly women and children, who were carried, together with the ghastly load of seventy trunkless heads, to Obeidallah’s palace. A shock of horror, such as never since has ceased to thrill the Moslem world, seized the crowd, when the gory head of the Prophet’s grandson was cast at Obeidallah’s feet. Hard hearts were melted. As the governor turned the head roughly over with his staff (though we must be slow to accept the tales of heartless insult multiplied by Shîya hate), an aged voice from amongst the courtiers was heard to cry: ‘Gently! for it is the Prophet’s grandson. By the Lord! I have seen these very lips kissed by the blessed mouth of Mahomet.’[595] [Sidenote: The ladies and children sent to Medîna.] The sister of Hosein, his two little sons, Aly Asghar[596] and Amr, and two daughters, sole survivors of the family, were treated by Obeidallah with respect; and were sent along with the head of the Pretender to the Caliph at Damascus. Whether sincerely, or to escape the execrations which began already to be heaped upon the actors in the tragedy, Yezîd disowned all responsibility for the death of Hosein, and bitterly reproached Obeidallah for the deed. The ladies and children were honourably received into the Caliph’s household, and sent eventually, with every comfort and consideration, back to their Medîna home. This destination, meant in kindness by Yezîd, turned out badly for the Omeyyad Caliphate. [Sidenote: Reaction in favour of Aly’s descendants.]At Medîna, there ensued a wild scene of grief and lamentation. Everything tended there to intensify the sense of the catastrophe. The deserted dwellings inhabited heretofore by the family and kinsmen of the Prophet, the widowed ladies, the orphaned little ones, all added pathos to the cruel tale. That tale, eagerly heard by groups of weeping listeners at the lips of the women and children who alone survived to tell it--and coloured, as oft repeated by them, with fresh and growing horrors--was spread by the pilgrims flocking yearly to Medîna, over the whole empire. The tragic story was taken up in every household. It soon was seen that the Governor of Kûfa, in his zeal to suppress the imperial claim of the house of Aly, had overshot the mark. The claim of this line, heretofore unknown, or treated with indifference, struck deep now into the hearts of multitudes; and a cloud of indignation and wrath began to gather, which ere long burst