of the favors of Thy Lord, the King of everlasting days. For We perceive
the fragrance of the Day whereon He Who is the Desire of all nations hath
shed upon the kingdoms of the unseen and of the seen the splendors of the
light of His most excellent names, and enveloped them with the radiance of
the luminaries of His most gracious favors, favors which none can reckon
except Him Who is the Omnipotent Protector of the entire creation.”
The departure of Bahá’u’lláh from the Garden of Ridván, at noon, on the
14th of _Dh_i’l-Qádih 1279 A.H. (May 3, 1863), witnessed scenes of
tumultuous enthusiasm no less spectacular, and even more touching, than
those which greeted Him when leaving His Most Great House in Ba_gh_dád.
“The great tumult,” wrote an eyewitness, “associated in our minds with the
Day of Gathering, the Day of Judgment, we beheld on that occasion.
Believers and unbelievers alike sobbed and lamented. The chiefs and
notables who had congregated were struck with wonder. Emotions were
stirred to such depths as no tongue can describe, nor could any observer
escape their contagion.”
Mounted on His steed, a red roan stallion of the finest breed, the best
His lovers could purchase for Him, and leaving behind Him a bowing
multitude of fervent admirers, He rode forth on the first stage of a
journey that was to carry Him to the city of Constantinople. “Numerous
were the heads,” Nabíl himself a witness of that memorable scene,
recounts, “which, on every side, bowed to the dust at the feet of His
horse, and kissed its hoofs, and countless were those who pressed forward
to embrace His stirrups.” “How great the number of those embodiments of
fidelity,” testifies a fellow-traveler, “who, casting themselves before
that charger, preferred death to separation from their Beloved! Methinks,
that blessed steed trod upon the bodies of those pure-hearted souls.” “He
(God) it was,” Bahá’u’lláh Himself declares, “Who enabled Me to depart out
of the city (Ba_gh_dád), clothed with such majesty as none, except the
denier and the malicious, can fail to acknowledge.” These marks of homage
and devotion continued to surround Him until He was installed in
Constantinople. Mírzá Yaḥyá, while hurrying on foot, by his own choice,
behind Bahá’u’lláh’s carriage, on the day of His arrival in that city, was
overheard by Nabíl to remark to Siyyid Muḥammad: “Had I not chosen to hide
myself, had I revealed my identity, the honor accorded Him (Bahá’u’lláh)
on this day would have been mine too.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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