Al-Maqrizi, Al-Khitat 2.4-9
c. 1400 CE
translated by Jason Colavito
2026
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NOTE |
The great Egyptian historian al-Maqrizi wrote an massive treatise on the history of Egypt, the Al-Khitat. In it, al-Maqrizi preserved excerpts from writers both well-known and obscure about the history of the country and its myths and legends. Most were from Arabic or Coptic sources, though many, in turn, were based on Late Antique Greek or Syriac originals. These stories, often contradictory, paint an important picture about the stories circulating in medieval times. A very long section covered the myths and legends of Alexandria, preserving important stories about the cross-currents of culture and mythology in the medieval city. From this, I have translated several chapters on the history of the city down to the time of Alexander, but I have omitted chapters with lengthy digressions on calendrical issues and on the history of Alexandria after Alexander. The text below is translated from the French edition of the second volume of Maqrizi's Al-Khitat published by U. Bouriant in 1900.
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THE SECOND VOLUME.
CHAPTER IV.
CONCERNING THE CITY OF ALEXANDRIA.
This city is one of the largest and most ancient in the world. It was built several times; the first time was after the Deluge, in the days of Miṣraīm ibn Baīṣar, the son of Noah, at which time it was called Raqūdah. Subsequently, it was rebuilt twice, and in the time of the Greeks, it was expanded by Alexander the Macedonian, the son of Philip, the very same who defeated Darius and subjugated the Persian Empire, 120 solar years after the destruction of Memphis by Bokht Nassar (Nebuchadnezzar). It then took the name of Alexander, and after this prince had enhanced its prominence, it supplanted the city of Memphis in the role of capital of Egypt, a role it retained until the Islamic conquest and the arrival of Amr ibn al-As, who, at the head of the Muslim army, seized control of the citadel and of Alexandria. From that moment on, Egypt became a province of the Islamic realm, and the role of capital passed from Alexandria to Fustat-Misr. God willing, I shall recount to you all that I have been able to learn regarding the history of Alexandria.
Abū al-Ḥasan al-Masʿūdī, in his book Tales of the Times, states: The Quqah, a conquering tribe of the people of Aylah, seized the land and divided it into thirty districts and four major divisions, with each division constituting a province. Within each of these provinces, a city was built wherein resided a king who sat upon a golden throne; situated beside the king was a bara (that is to say, a House of Knowledge) and a haikal (a temple) dedicated to a specific planet and housing golden idols. Alexandria, which was at that time called Raqūdah, comprised fifteen districts; It was there that the chief priests were established, and its temples housed more golden statues than those of other cities; indeed, they contained two hundred golden statues. The Saïd was divided into eighty districts, distributed across four provinces and comprising thirty cities, all filled with wonders.
Ptolemy, in his work On Climates, in which he describes islands, seas, and cities, notes that the city of Alexandria falls under the sign of Leo and is subject to the influence of Mars; the average length of the day there is 14 hours, and its longitude is 60° 30', which corresponds (in terms of distance from the prime meridian) to four full hours and a quarter of an hour.
Ibrāhīm ibn Waṣīf Shāh, speaking of the stories related to Miṣraīm ibn Baīṣar, son of Noah, adds: He also taught them to make talismans; as the beasts came out of the sea and devastated their fields, their gardens, and their dwellings, talismans were made against them, and these beasts disappeared, never to return. They built, somewhere other than on the river, towns, among which Raqūdah, on the site of Alexandria. In the middle of Raqūdah was raised, on columns of gilded copper, a gilded dome also surmounted by a mirror made of various mixed substances; the diameter of this mirror was five spans, and the dome was a hundred cubits high. If, among the people who surrounded Egypt, and some of whom envied Egypt, there was someone who wanted to attack the Egyptians from the seacoast, the mirror, by means of some artifice, began to throw flames in the direction of the attackers and set them on fire. This mirror remained standing for a long time, but was overturned by the sea. It is said that it was in imitation of this mirror that Alexander built his tower, on which was also placed a mirror where one could see the attackers coming from the country of Rūm. But some king of this country, using cunning, sent an emissary who managed to overthrow this mirror, which was composed of glass.
According to the account of a Copt, a survivor of the priestly caste, which had been massacred by Aīsād (Ansād), King of Egypt, took refuge with a king of the land of the Franks. He extolled to him the many treasures and wonders of Egypt, thereby inspiring in him the desire to make himself master of the land and to seize its treasures and talismans, means by which he could obtain anything he might desire. Ṣā ibn Marqūnos—brother of Aīsād and the then-reigning King of Egypt, having learned that the King of the Franks was advancing against him, withdrew to a mountain situated between the sea and the eastern bank of the Nile. There, he had the greater part of his treasures brought to him and constructed vaulted storehouses lined with lead. The King of the Franks appeared with a fleet of a thousand ships; wherever he encountered Egyptian stelae or edifices, he toppled them, along with their statues, aided by the renegade priest. Upon reaching Alexandria, he ravaged the city and its environs, destroyed most of its buildings, entered the Nile through the Rosetta mouth, and sailed upstream as far as Memphis.
As the inhabitants of the various regions through which he passed offered resistance, he laid waste to the countryside and massacred all who stood in his path. Thus he arrived at the cities of the interior, intent upon seizing the treasures of the Egyptians. But he found these places protected by powerful talismans and defended by deep waters, moats, and barricades. He remained there for many days, unable to seize them; in his anger against the priest, he killed him. Almost all of his companions had perished; meanwhile, the Egyptians rallied, killed a great number of those who had remained aboard the ships, and set fire to several vessels.
Furthermore, drawing upon their magical arts and their mastery of terrifying enchantments, they conjured up a storm that raged furiously and engulfed most of the fleet, such that only the King of the Franks managed to escape and flee. The Egyptians returned to their homes and villages, while the King, having returned to Memphis, prepared an expedition against the land of Rūm; he marched there, laying waste to the islands. Thus, he became a formidable figure to other kings and relentlessly pursued the priests, massacring a great number of them. He reigned for sixty-seven years, died at the age of one hundred and seventy, and was buried in a subterranean vault in the heart of the city of Memphis. Buried alongside him were his treasures—gems, statues, and talismans—just as had been done for his ancestors; among these artifacts were four thousand mithqals of gold cast in the shapes of land and sea creatures, the image of an eagle carved from green stone, and that of a dragon wrought in gold. Inscribed upon his tomb were his name, the victories he had won over other kings, and the chronicles of his military campaigns; upon his passing, the empire passed to his son, Todras (Tedāris).
When Gūriāq, daughter of Tūtis, the first Pharaoh of Egypt and the Pharaoh of Abraham, ascended the royal throne after having slain her father, she governed her subjects with wisdom and amassed treasures such as no kings had ever gathered before; she heaped honors upon the priests, the scholars, and the great magicians, and elevated their rank. She built temples in great numbers. Those who refused to obey her took refuge in the city of Atrīb and chose as their king a man of the lineage of Atrīb, named Aīdākhas (Andāḥos). They girded the crown upon his head, and the people gathered around him in throngs. Gūriāq dispatched an army to fight him, which routed his forces and slew the majority of his partisans. Aīdākhas fled to Syria, where the Canaanites dwelt; he implored the aid of their king, who raised a mighty army on his behalf.
Gūriāq then opened her storehouses, distributed her treasures, and empowered her magicians, who set their arts to work. Aīdākhas advanced with the Canaanite army, commanded by a general named Girūn. As soon as the enemy had entered Egypt, Gūriāq—without Aīdākhas’s knowledge—sent her wet-nurse, a woman of exceptional intelligence, to the general; she conveyed to him that Gūriāq desired to take him as her husband, that she held no affection for any man within her own court, and that if he would but slay Aīdākhas, she would become his wife and have him proclaimed King of Egypt. Girūn, overjoyed, administered to Aīdākhas the poison sent by the queen and brought about his death. But Gūriāq, following the murder of Aīdākhas, sent word to Jirūn that she could not marry him so long as the Canaanites remained in Egypt and until he had built a wondrous city. In those days, the Canaanites were renowned as excellent builders of structures and were reputed to possess the skill to execute marvelous feats. “Leave the place where you are,” she continued, “and make your way to the west of my land; repair the many ruins found there, restore the existing structures, and upon them, erect new ones.”
Jirūn did just that; in the Western Desert, he built a city named Qidūmah (Andūmah), into which he channeled water from the Nile by means of a canal. The city was encircled by numerous plantations, and a towering spire was raised within it, at the summit of which stood a belvedere clad in gold, silver, glass, and marble. The queen showered Jirūn with riches and, unbeknownst to him, wrote to the king, her master. When Jirūn had completed the construction of the city, Gūriāq said to him: “Another of our fortified cities, one held by our predecessors, has been partially destroyed; its citadel lies in ruins. Go forth and set about repairing it; thereafter, I shall be able to travel to the city you have built. And when you have finished repairing this second city, send me your army so that I may come to you, leaving behind my own city and the people of my household; for it is my desire that you take me as your wife—I, who am their close kinswoman.” And Jirūn went forth and built the second Alexandria.
Historians recount that the one who came to attack Gūriāq was actually al-Wālīd, son of Dūma’, the Amalekite and the second Pharaoh. The alleged cause of this aggression was as follows: Al-Wālīd, having fallen ill, dispatched messengers to every land with instructions to bring him back water from those regions, so that he might determine which source possessed the power to cure him. He sent a young man to Egypt, who was struck with wonder by the abundance and prosperity he encountered there. Upon drinking the local water, he found it exquisite; returning to his master, he gave him a full account of the state of affairs in Egypt. Al-Wālīd subsequently set out for Egypt with a vast army.
The royal secretary wrote to the Queen to ask for her hand in marriage; the Queen replied, reaching an agreement with him that he would build her a city—a city that would stand as a testament to his strength and power, and which would serve as the Queen’s dower. He accepted the terms and, traversing the land, made his way to the western region of Egypt. The Queen sent him all manner of fragrant flowers and fruits, and provided him with mounts. He proceeded to Alexandria, which had lain in ruins since the departure of the ’Ādites, and gathered up all the stones, structures, and columns he found there to lay the foundations of a magnificent city. He employed one hundred thousand laborers for its construction; they toiled for a very long time, and he expended upon the project every ounce of wealth he possessed.
Yet, whenever he had completed a section of the edifice, a creature would emerge from the sea and destroy the previous day’s work, leaving no trace of it by the following morning, a phenomenon that greatly troubled the builder. Gūriāq had sent him a gift of one thousand milk goats, the milk of which he used for his cooking; this herd was accompanied by a herdsman who led them to graze at that very spot by the seashore. Each evening, as he was preparing to retire, the shepherd would see a magnificent woman emerge from the sea, a woman he desired in his heart. This woman spoke to him and proposed a contest: they would wrestle together, and if he emerged victorious, she would belong to him; but if, conversely, she claimed the victory, she would take two of his goats. Every evening, the woman was victorious and led away two of the beasts from the flock; this continued until she had taken more than half of the goats. As for the remainder, they merely languished, for the shepherd was too consumed by love to tend to them properly.
One day, his master happened to pass by and inquired about his condition; the shepherd, fearing his master’s severity, recounted his strange adventure. The King then assumed the shepherd’s clothes and duties for the entire day; toward evening, he saw the woman approach him and propose the same pact. He accepted, wrestled with her, emerged victorious, and treated her roughly. “Would to God,” she cried out, “that my conqueror would return me to my first companion, for he was kind to me, and I have made him suffer for a long time!” He therefore handed her back to the shepherd, to whom he said: “Question her regarding those structures which, no sooner are they erected, than they are toppled during the night. Ask her who is responsible for this, and whether there is any means to remedy it.”
The shepherd questioned the woman, who replied: “It is the creatures of the sea that topple your structures.” “What stratagem should be employed?” asked the shepherd. “Listen,” she replied: “You must construct chests out of thick glass, fitted with lids, and place inside them skilled draftsmen equipped with sheets of metal, styluses, and every other supply they might require for several days. Then, have the chests transported by boat—but only after securing them with ropes.” “And when the crates have been lowered into the depths of the water, let draftsmen sketch everything that passes nearby; thereafter, the chests shall be hoisted up, and statues conforming to the drawings, whether of copper, stone, or lead, shall be fashioned and erected facing the sea, in front of the structures. The creatures, upon emerging from the water, will behold these images and flee, never to return.” The shepherd apprised his master of all this, and the master carried out the woman’s instructions; thus, he was able to complete his constructions and build the city.
It is claimed that the man responsible for the structures and the herd was Jirūn, who had attacked the Egyptians prior to al-Wālīd, and that al-Wālīd arrived only after the reign of Gūriāq, whereupon he defeated the Egyptians and seized control of Egypt.
It is recounted that Jirūn expended his entire fortune on the construction of the city without ever managing to complete it, and that he instructed the herdsman to consult the woman regarding the matter. “Within the ruins of the city,” she said, “lies a circus ring encircled by seven columns, each surmounted by an upright copper statue. Sacrifice a fat bull before each of these statues, and smear the column supporting it with the bull’s blood. Furthermore, offer incense to the statue by burning hair from the bull’s tail, along with shavings from its horns and hooves, while reciting: ‘These offerings are for you; grant me that which lies within your possession.’ Next, measure a distance of one hundred cubits outward from each column, following the direction in which the statue’s face is turned; then, at the precise moment when the full moon coincides with the rising of Saturn, dig a pit. After descending fifty cubits, you will encounter an enormous stone slab; rub it with the bull’s gall and lift it aside. You will then descend into an underground passage, fifty cubits in length, at the end of which lies a storeroom secured by a lock. The key to this lock is concealed beneath the door’s threshold; retrieve it, then rub the door with the remainder of the bull’s gall and blood, burn pieces of its horn and hoof along with some hair from its tail, and enter. You will find yourself standing before a statue wearing a copper tablet around its neck, upon which is inscribed an inventory of the contents of the storeroom. Take whatever you desire, but do not touch any of the corpses you may see there, nor disturb any of the objects they bear upon their persons. Proceed in this manner for each of the columns and each of the statues.” “Each of them will yield to you a similar storehouse. They are seven naoi—royal tombs—and their treasures.”
Armed with these instructions, the king set out with the shepherd to carry them out, and he discovered things impossible to describe and wonders beyond number. Thus, he completed the construction of the city. News of this reached Gūriāq, who grew apprehensive and resolved to intimidate him, or, failing that, to bring about his demise through cunning. It is recounted that, among the objects thus discovered, there was a sealed scroll containing a small vial of emeralds; within this vial lay a green powder and a slender red wand. Whosoever rubbed their eyelids with this powder using the wand would find their hair, even if white with age, restored to blackness, and their gaze would acquire such acuity that they could perceive spirits. He also discovered a golden statue capable of summoning clouds to veil the sky and bringing forth rain, as well as stone effigies of ravens that would answer when questions were put to them. In each storehouse, he found ten wondrous objects.
When the construction was complete, he sent a summons to Gūriāq, bidding her come to his presence. The queen sent him a magnificent carpet to adorn the chamber where he sat, accompanied by this message: “Divide your army into three divisions. Send me the first third; then, when I have traversed one-third of the journey, send me the second; and finally, when I have covered half the distance, send me the last third. In this way, your troops will follow in my wake, and no one shall catch sight of me as I enter your abode. Retain by your side only those pages who customarily attend to your needs; as for myself, I shall arrive accompanied solely by those women indispensable to your service—women before whom you need feel no shame.” And so it was done; Gūriāq assembled her retinue and baggage train, and set forth upon the road. Forewarned of her departure, Jirūn sent a third of his army to meet her; the queen had poisoned food and drink prepared for these troops, and had them served by her slaves and members of her own family, who presented them with dishes, refreshments, perfumes, and all manner of delicacies. Not a single one of Jirūn’s soldiers awoke alive the next morning, and the queen continued her march. When the second third of the army came to meet her, she inflicted the same fate upon them, then sent word to Jirūn that she had dispatched his army to his palace and his capital to hold them in safekeeping for him. She then resumed her journey and arrived in his presence, accompanied by her wet nurse and her handmaidens. The wet nurse breathed upon Jirūn’s face—a breath that left him stupefied—and sprinkled him with a liquid she carried with her. Jirūn’s limbs began to tremble, and he said: “Who, then, believes he can prevail over women? Such a man deceives himself, for women prevail over him.” The queen opened his veins, declaring: “The blood of kings is a remedy.” She severed his head, carried it away, and mounted it atop her palace; she seized all his riches and sent them to the city of Memphis, and in Alexandria, she built a tower upon which she engraved her own name, that of her victim, and the full account, along with the date, of her exploit. When the kings learned of what Gūriāq had done, they came to fear her and submitted themselves to her rule.
Ibn Khordadbeh states: It is recounted that Alexandria was built over the course of three hundred years, and that for seventy years thereafter, its inhabitants were obliged to wear black veils whenever they ventured out, in order to shield their eyes from the dazzling whiteness of the city walls and of the marvelous lighthouse that stood amidst the sea, perched upon a glass crab. In addition to its ordinary residents, Alexandria was home to six hundred thousand Jews, who were fully integrated into the general population.
According to ibn Waṣīf Shāh, the crops extended, through the desert of Rosetta and Alexandria, as far as Barqah; one could walk there across the land of Egypt and no provisions were needed, so much fruit and other good things were abundant; and one walked constantly sheltered by the shade of the trees against the heat of the sun. King Ṣā, son of Qobṭīm, raised palaces in this desert, planted large plantations there, and brought from the Nile canals which, starting from the western bank of the river, went as far as the western border of the country, through uninterrupted fields. And when the population had disappeared, its traces remained in this desert; the palaces are destroyed, the inhabitants are dispersed, but they continue to tell of this region what they saw there of the ruins and marvels, and surprising legends.
Ibn ’Abd al-Hakam recounts that the one who built Alexandria and laid its foundations was Dhu‘l-Qarnayn the Greek, whose name is Alexander, and who gave his name to Alexandria; it was he who was the first to fashion fabrics woven with threads of gold.
And his father was the first Caesar. It is said that the original builder was a man from Egypt named Murzabah, son of Murzabah the Greek, of the lineage of Yunan, son of Japheth, son of Noah; according to others, he hailed from Libya, one of the western districts of Egypt. Ibn Lahi‘ah states that the population of this land was Greek; as for (Alexander) himself, he claims that he was Himyarite. Ibn Tubba’ said:
My grandfather, Dhu'l-Qarnayn, was a Muslim,
And a king before whom other kings bowed in their assemblies;
He reached the West and the East, seeking
To acquire knowledge from a philosopher of wise intellect.
He beheld the sun setting at the very point where it sets--
Where lies a spring, fed not by rain, but filled with foul-smelling mud.
In another account, it is stated: “Dhu‘l-Qarnayn was a Muslim before my time.”
Uthman ibn Salah told me: Abd Allah ibn Wahb—who received it from Abd al-Rahman ibn Ziyad ibn An‘am, who in turn received it from Sa‘d ibn Mas'ud al-Tajibi, who himself received it from two elders of his tribe—recounted to me the following: “We were in Alexandria, and finding the time dragging, we said: ‘Why do we not go to see ’Uqbah ibn ’Amir and converse with him?’ So we went to his home and found him seated inside; we informed him that we had found the day to be passing very slowly. ‘I, too,’ he replied, ‘finding the time dragging, went out [and then came back in].’ Then, stepping forward toward us, he added: ‘I was once in attendance upon the Messenger of God. Suddenly, some people—Believers in the Book [Jews or Christians]—arrived, bringing with them some scrolls or books, and said to me: “We request permission to present ourselves before the Messenger of God.” I went to the Prophet and informed him of the situation. “What is there between them and me?” he asked. “They have come to question me about matters I cannot comprehend. I am but a servant, and I know only what my Lord has taught me.” Then he added: “Bring me water for ablution.” Having then purified himself, he proceeded to the prayer niche within his home, performed two prostrations, and returned—with joy and satisfaction clearly visible upon his face. He returned, therefore, and said to me: “Let them enter, along with any of my Companions whom you find waiting at the door.”‘“ I ushered them in, and when they stood in the presence of the Apostle of God, he said to them: “If you wish, I will set forth to you the matters on which you seek to question me before you speak; or, if you prefer, speak first and present your case yourselves.” “Indeed,” they replied, “set it forth to us before we speak.” “You desire,” the Prophet resumed, “to question me concerning Dhu’l-Qarnayn, and I shall tell you what is written in your books regarding him: First, he was a young man from the land of Rum who attained kingship. Then he undertook an expedition, arrived at the shores of the Egyptian Sea, and there founded a city that took the name Alexandria. When its construction was complete, an angel came, took him up, and gradually lifted him into the air to a very great height. Dhu’l-Qarnayn looked up for the first time, and the angel said to him: ‘Look down beneath you.’ ‘I see,’ said Dhu’l-Qarnayn, ‘my city, and other cities alongside it.’ The angel ascended higher still and said: ‘Look.’ ‘I see my city all alone, and I see no other.’ ‘What you see thus,’ said the angel, ‘is the entire Earth, and that which surrounds the Earth is the sea. Your Lord desired to show you the Earth, and He has granted you therein a power that shall later serve as a lesson for the ignorant and a proof for the wise.’” Then Dhu’l-Qarnayn traveled to the place where the sun sets, and thereafter to the place where the sun rises; finally, he arrived at the double barrier formed by two very smooth mountains—upon which all things slide—and there he constructed the barrier; Then, passing beyond Yagog and Magog, he encountered a people whose faces resembled those of dogs and who waged war against Yagog and Magog; moving further on, he found a people of dwarves who waged war against the dog-faced people, and then a people of cranes who waged war against the dwarves; then, continuing his journey, he encountered a people of serpents, each of which could swallow an enormous rock. Finally, he arrived at the sea that encircles the earth. “And the Prophet’s visitors said to him: ‘We attest that such is his story, and that it is recounted in this very manner in our books.’”
According to Khaled ibn Ma‘dan al-Kala‘i, the Prophet of God, when asked about Dhu‘l-Qarnayn, replied: “He governed the face of the earth, reaching down to its very depths.” The same Khaled relates that ‘Umar ibn al-Khattab, upon hearing a man cry out, “O Dhu‘l-Qarnayn!”, said: “O my God, grant forgiveness! Are the prophets no longer sufficient for you, that you now invoke the angels?”
Qatada asserts, on the authority of Al-Hasan, that Dhu‘l-Qarnayn was a king and a pious man, and that the name Dhu‘l-Qarnayn was bestowed upon him for this very reason. When asked about this figure, ’Ali replied that he was neither an angel nor a prophet, but a pious servant—one who loved God and was loved by God, who was sincere toward God, and toward whom God was sincere. The Lord sent him to his people, who struck him upon his two “horns” (temples). He died, and thereafter was given the epithet Dhu‘l-Qarnayn. It is also said that this nickname was conferred upon him because he had reached the two “horns” (extreme points) of the sun, its setting place and its rising place; according to others, it was because he wore his hair in two plaits that he coiled up, or because he had two small horns that he concealed beneath his turban.
According to Ibn Shihab, he was called Dhu‘l-Qarnayn because he reached the “horn” of the sun in the West and the “horn” of the sun in the East.
According to ‘Abd Allah ibn ‘Amr ibn al-‘As, as soon as Alexandria was built, Pharaoh began by establishing workshops and dwellings there; these constituted the very first traces of civilization and construction to appear in that place. Since that time, construction has continued there without interruption, and the workshops have never ceased to function. After this Pharaoh, the kings of Egypt altered the city's aspect; Dalūka bint Zaba erected the Tower of Alexandria and the Lighthouse of Būqir. When Solomon, son of David, appeared on the earth, he built there a dwelling and a place of prayer. Subsequently, Dhu‘l-Qarnayn, having taken possession of the city, demolished all the structures that had been raised there by kings, Pharaohs, and other figures—with the exception of those built by Solomon. These he respected, leaving them unaltered and contenting himself merely with repairing whatever had fallen into disrepair. Thus, he restored the lighthouse and raised within Alexandria a series of edifices that were uniform in design, from the first to the last. After Alexander, kings succeeded one another, Greeks and others, and not one of them failed to construct in Alexandria some monument that is known to this day by the name of the king who built it and to whom it is attributed.
Ibn Lahi‘ah said: I was told that a stone was found in Alexandria bearing this inscription: “I am Shaddād bin ‘Ād, who erected the pillars, hewed out the quarries (al-ahyad) with my own arm, and dammed the rivers. In undertaking these works, I believed neither in old age nor in death; and the stone was as soft as silt.” In another account, one reads: “I buried a treasure in the sea, lying at a depth of more than twelve cubits, which no one shall be able to retrieve, save for the people of Muhammad.” Ibn Lahi‘ah states that the word al-ahyad is equivalent to the word al-maghar (caves, caverns). Abu ’Ali al-Qali, in the Kitab al-Amali, writes: Ibn al-A‘rabi and others recited these verses:
You ask me the measure of my years;
And I replied: “Had I lived the age of the lizard,
Or the age of Noah since the Deluge--
Had I been able to fathom the voiceless insects,
Had I lived through the entire span of time that has passed since the Flood--
Surely, I would long since have fallen prey to old age or death.”
And in another lesson:
Solomon learned the language of the ant,
In the days when rock was like mud
Another said: "Regarding the time that followed the Deluge, that which had been solid now was soft.”
For them, the 'time of the Faḥl refers to the period immediately succeeding the Flood, a time during which fertility was miraculous and prosperity truly remarkable.” Someone else remarked: “The ‘time of the Faḥl’ was an era without equal.” As for the term ’ilm al-ḥakl (the science of ḥakl): “Those animals whose voices are never heard are referred to as ḥakl.” — These verses were composed by Rubat ibn al-Ajaj ibn Rūbah ibn Labid ibn Sakhr ibn Kathif ibn Hayy ibn Bakr ibn Zabi’at ibn Sa'd ibn Malik ibn Zayd Manah ibn Tamim. The circumstances under which he composed them are as follows: Having led his camels to drink at a spring belonging to the tribe of ’Aql, he caught sight of a young woman who captivated him; he thereupon asked for her hand in marriage. “I see that you have reached an advanced age,” she replied; "but do you also possess any worldly wealth?" “Yes,” he replied, “I have a heard of cattle.” “Is there also money?” asked the young woman. "No," he replied. “O people of 'Aql!” she cried out, “you have such great pretensions, yet you are poor!” And Rūbah then replied:
“By despising my station and making light of my flock,
She has shown her displeasure and humiliated—among the people of ‘Aql--
My standing; and she made a gesture with her head, as if to prove it to me.
You ask me the number of my years,
And I say that had I lived the lifespan of the lizard,
Or that of Noah since the Deluge--
When the moist stone was akin to muddy silt.”
And in another lesson:
“I had come to know the language of voiceless beasts,
(Just) as Solomon knew the tongue of the ants.”
Abu Bakr ibn Durayd, when questioned regarding the era of the Faṭḥal, replied: “The Arabs claim that it was the time when stones were soft.”
It is stated in ’Abd al-Hakam: It is said that the builder of Alexandria was Shaddād bin ’Ād—and God knows best.
Alexandria comprised three juxtaposed cities, namely: the Lighthouse and its environs; Alexandria proper, that is, the heart of present-day Alexandria; and Nafitah. Each was encircled by a wall, behind which rose a second wall that completely encompassed all three cities. It is said that Alexandria was defended by seven well-armed fortresses and seven moats. Alexander clad the walls and pavements of the city of Alexandria in marble; at that time, its inhabitants wore garments of black and red. In those days, monks dressed in black because of the dazzling whiteness of the marble, which was so brilliant that there was no need to light torches at night, and as soon as the moon appeared, one could easily sew or thread a needle.
It is recounted that Alexandria took three hundred years to build, was inhabited for three hundred years, and lay in ruins for three hundred years. What is certain is that, for seventy years, no one could enter the city without covering their eyes with a black veil, owing to the blinding whiteness of the plaster and flagstones; during this period, no lamps were lit within the city. The city remained as white and radiant by night as it was by day; yet, as soon as the sun had set, no one dared venture out of their home—for anyone who risked stepping outside would vanish. Among the city's inhabitants was a shepherd who grazed his flock along the seashore; from the sea would emerge a figure who would snatch away one of his animals. The shepherd, having concealed himself at that very spot, lay in wait for the arrival of the abductor. And he saw a woman smoothing her hair who attempted to push him away; yet he overpowered her and led her back to his home, where she lived intimately with him. Observing that the city’s inhabitants no longer ventured out after sunset, the woman asked them the reason why; they explained that any among them who dared to venture outside were abducted. She then fashioned talismans for them—becoming, in fact, the very first person in Egypt to craft talismans within the city of Alexandria. It is recounted that the marble itself proved a genuine nuisance to the inhabitants; for at dawn, it gleamed as dazzlingly white as flour, and this brilliance intensified even further as noon approached.
According to al-Masʿūdī, certain historians relate that once Alexander the Macedonian had settled the administration of his realms and set forth to conquer the entire world, spanning air, land, and sea, he arrived at the site where Alexandria now stands. There, he discovered the ruins of ancient monuments and a multitude of marble columns; in the very center of the city stood a colossal column bearing the following inscription in Musnad script, the ancient writing system of the Himyarite peoples and the kings of ’Ād: "I am Shaddād ibn ’Ād; with my own arm, I dammed the rivers and hewed these gigantic columns, as well as the hills and towering mountains. I built Iram of the Pillars--Iram Zat al-Amad—a city without equal upon the earth. Here, I intended to construct a city mirroring Iram, and to gather within it all that was noble and generous among my kin and my people, a place where fear, old age, sorrow, and sickness would hold no sway. Yet the hour of reckoning arrived and snatched me away from my designs; and the advent of that hour became the source of my enduring grief and anguish. Brief was my dream, and fleeting was my sojourn [upon the earth]. Yesterday, I was compelled to leave my home; and there is no king, however powerful he may be, who does not find himself subject to this reality. There is no army, no matter its size, that is not susceptible to a fear against which one can defend oneself neither by force of will nor by disdain. There is a limit to power; monuments vanish, as does the sublime and glorious Sultan himself. Whoever beholds the monuments I have left behind, whoever learns of my history, the span of my life, and the ultimate undoing of my genius (despite the formidable precautions I had taken), that person shall no longer be beguiled by the world. For the world is deceptive and treacherous; from it, one must claim only what it freely yields, and take only what one is able to receive. There are lengthy discourses that demonstrate the futility of the world, warn against its deceptions, and dissuade one from seeking repose within it.”
Alexander, pensive, descended, pondering these words and adopting them as his guiding principle. Then he summoned artisans from every land and laid out the foundations of the city, to which he gave a length and breadth of several miles. He gathered there columns and blocks of alabaster, and summoned ships laden with alabaster, marble, and stones of every kind from the island of Sicily, from the lands of Greece and Crete, and from the farthest reaches of the Sea of Roum—the very place where it meets the Ocean Sea. Materials were also brought from the island of Rhodes. Orders were issued to the laborers to erect a wall around the site where the foundations had been marked out—a wall that would encircle the entire city. At every point where the earth had been excavated, a timber post was planted; each post was then connected to its neighbor by a taut rope stretching from one to the next, and the entire network was linked to a marble column positioned directly in front of his tent. Suspended from this column was a large, resonant bell; and all—masons, laborers, and artisans alike—were instructed that the moment they heard the tolling of this bell, and saw the ropes begin to sway (for every supporting post bore a smaller bell of its own), they were to lay the city's foundations simultaneously from every side. Alexander desired that this undertaking be executed at a moment of his own choosing, coinciding with an auspicious celestial rising. However, as Alexander kept watch for this propitious instant, his head gradually drooped, and he drifted into a light slumber. Just then, a crow alighted upon the rope supporting the large bell suspended from the column, setting the bell in motion. The great bell tolled; the ropes began to sway, and the smaller bells attached to them chimed, for the entire mechanism had been constructed through a series of ingeniously combined and scientifically calibrated movements. Upon seeing the ropes sway and hearing the bells chime, the laborers, acting in unison, laid the foundations of the city, raising their voices in shouts of praise and ritual purification.
Alexander, roused from his sleep, inquired as to what was transpiring; and upon learning the full account, he was filled with wonder. and said: “I desired one thing, but God desired another; and what God does not wish to grant, He withholds. I wished for this city to endure for a long time, but God willed that its disappearance and ruin be swift, and that kings should alter its destiny.” Thus, having arranged for the city's construction and laid its foundations, Alexander saw that—as soon as night fell—creatures of the sea emerged from the waters and surged against the structures already built. Upon witnessing this the following day, Alexander said: “Behold, the ruin of this city’s structures has already begun; may its end come to pass in accordance with the Creator's will!” And he took the damage wrought by the beasts of the sea as a dire omen; yet the construction continued. Each day men built and drafted plans, and watchmen were posted to repel the animals as they emerged from the sea. But when they returned in the morning, they found that the animals had indeed come and destroyed the structures. Alexander, deeply troubled, was terrified by this peril rising from the sea; he therefore reflected upon the matter, considering what course of action was fitting and what stratagem he might employ to avert this calamity and banish this misfortune from the city. And while he sat alone, pondering all these things, the stratagem he sought suddenly presented itself to his mind, along with the means to carry it into execution. The next morning, he summoned the workmen and ordered them to construct for him a wooden chest, ten cubits in length and five in width. Into this chest, windows of glass were fitted, framed on all sides by the surrounding wood, and sealed fast with pitch, mastic, and other resinous, watertight substances to prevent any water from entering the interior. Spaces were also provided therein for the mooring ropes. Into this chest Alexander stepped—accompanied by members of his staff who possessed skill in painting—and the doors were sealed shut behind him, after he had given the order to caulk (the seams) with the materials we have previously mentioned. Then, two large ships towed the chest out into the open sea; there—after weights of lead, iron, and stone had been suspended beneath the chest to drag it down into the depths—it was positioned between the two vessels, which were then lashed together with beams to prevent them from drifting apart. The ropes securing the chest were made fast to the two ships and then paid out. The chest plunged downward and reached the seabed, where those inside beheld demons in human form, though some possessed the heads of animals. Some were armed with axes, others with saws or picks, in imitation of the laborers and artisans of the city equipped with their construction tools.
Alexander and his companions carefully examined these figures and sketched them on paper, classifying them according to their various species and reproducing the hideousness of their forms and bodies. Then the rope was shaken, and, alerted by this signal, the men remaining in the boats hauled on the moorings and brought the chest to the surface. Alexander emerged from it and instructed the craftsmen working in iron, copper, and stone to fashion images of the animals exactly as they had been sketched; once this was done, the statues were erected upon columns at the water's edge, and construction resumed. When night fell, the destructive beasts emerged; yet, seeing their likenesses mounted on columns and facing out toward the sea, they departed and were never seen again. Thus, Alexandria was able to be built; its walls were covered with a coating of plaster, and upon the city gate, Alexander had this inscription engraved: “Here stands Alexandria, which I sought to build for the sake of safety, success, happiness, felicity, joy, and for the endurance of the ages; yet the Creator—the King of Heaven and Earth, the Destroyer of Nations—did not ordain that it should endure in such a manner. I founded it and oversaw its construction; I clad its walls in plaster, and God granted me all things, knowledge and wisdom, and smoothed away every difficulty before me. Whatever knowledge I desired, He bestowed upon me; He placed no impediment in the path of any enterprise I wished to undertake. To God belongs the grace; to me, the labor. Perfection is the lot of those among my contemporaries who served Him. Glory be to God, the Master of Mankind; there is no God but Him; He is the Lord of all things.” Following this inscription, he commissioned depictions of all that was destined to unfold in his land after his time—calamities, prosperity, and ruin—as well as all that was fated to befall Alexandria until the end of the world.
The construction of Alexandria rested upon vaults that formed arched bridges; atop these rose the city’s houses, while beneath them, horsemen armed with lances could pass with ease, thus circling the entire city beneath the underlying arches. Within these subterranean passages, openings and skylights had been provided to admit light, along with conduits to channel air. By night, Alexandria remained illuminated, without the need to light a single lamp, thanks to the radiant whiteness of its alabaster and marble. Its markets, streets, and avenues were sheltered by vaulted roofs, ensuring that the inhabitants never had to concern themselves with the rain. The city was encircled by seven walls, constructed from stones of various hues and separated by moats dug at a certain distance from the walls themselves. Furthermore, the city was draped in hangings of green silk to shield the inhabitants’ eyes from the glare of the marble, the whiteness of which was dazzling. Once the city had been built and populated, calamities ensued, events chronicled by those writers who have devoted themselves to the history of Egypt and Alexandria: Night after night, inhabitants were snatched away, and by the following morning, a considerable number of them had vanished. Upon learning of this, Alexander ordered the placement of talismans atop columns known as obelisks, columns that remain standing to this very day. Each of these columns was shaped like a cypress tree and stood eighty cubits high, resting upon a copper pedestal. Beneath each one, figures, images, and an inscription had been deposited.
Of all the preceding accounts, the author states, those of ibn Waṣīf Shāh are evidently authentic; as for what al-Masʿūdī reports—claiming that it was Alexander who constructed the submersible chamber used to observe marine animals—this is pure fabrication. For ibn Waṣīf Shāh is deeply versed in the chronicles of the Egyptians. Likewise, what al-Masʿūdī asserts regarding the obelisks erected by Alexander is sheer fantasy. These obelisks are, in reality, merely the beacons that illuminated the city and the signal markers raised by the ancient kings of Egypt. They are the works of the early Coptic monarchs and the Pharaohs who reigned over Egypt in antiquity.
Abū al-Ḥasan al-Masʿūdī, in his book Tales of the Times, states: The Quqah, a conquering tribe of the people of Aylah, seized the land and divided it into thirty districts and four major divisions, with each division constituting a province. Within each of these provinces, a city was built wherein resided a king who sat upon a golden throne; situated beside the king was a bara (that is to say, a House of Knowledge) and a haikal (a temple) dedicated to a specific planet and housing golden idols. Alexandria, which was at that time called Raqūdah, comprised fifteen districts; It was there that the chief priests were established, and its temples housed more golden statues than those of other cities; indeed, they contained two hundred golden statues. The Saïd was divided into eighty districts, distributed across four provinces and comprising thirty cities, all filled with wonders.
Ptolemy, in his work On Climates, in which he describes islands, seas, and cities, notes that the city of Alexandria falls under the sign of Leo and is subject to the influence of Mars; the average length of the day there is 14 hours, and its longitude is 60° 30', which corresponds (in terms of distance from the prime meridian) to four full hours and a quarter of an hour.
Ibrāhīm ibn Waṣīf Shāh, speaking of the stories related to Miṣraīm ibn Baīṣar, son of Noah, adds: He also taught them to make talismans; as the beasts came out of the sea and devastated their fields, their gardens, and their dwellings, talismans were made against them, and these beasts disappeared, never to return. They built, somewhere other than on the river, towns, among which Raqūdah, on the site of Alexandria. In the middle of Raqūdah was raised, on columns of gilded copper, a gilded dome also surmounted by a mirror made of various mixed substances; the diameter of this mirror was five spans, and the dome was a hundred cubits high. If, among the people who surrounded Egypt, and some of whom envied Egypt, there was someone who wanted to attack the Egyptians from the seacoast, the mirror, by means of some artifice, began to throw flames in the direction of the attackers and set them on fire. This mirror remained standing for a long time, but was overturned by the sea. It is said that it was in imitation of this mirror that Alexander built his tower, on which was also placed a mirror where one could see the attackers coming from the country of Rūm. But some king of this country, using cunning, sent an emissary who managed to overthrow this mirror, which was composed of glass.
According to the account of a Copt, a survivor of the priestly caste, which had been massacred by Aīsād (Ansād), King of Egypt, took refuge with a king of the land of the Franks. He extolled to him the many treasures and wonders of Egypt, thereby inspiring in him the desire to make himself master of the land and to seize its treasures and talismans, means by which he could obtain anything he might desire. Ṣā ibn Marqūnos—brother of Aīsād and the then-reigning King of Egypt, having learned that the King of the Franks was advancing against him, withdrew to a mountain situated between the sea and the eastern bank of the Nile. There, he had the greater part of his treasures brought to him and constructed vaulted storehouses lined with lead. The King of the Franks appeared with a fleet of a thousand ships; wherever he encountered Egyptian stelae or edifices, he toppled them, along with their statues, aided by the renegade priest. Upon reaching Alexandria, he ravaged the city and its environs, destroyed most of its buildings, entered the Nile through the Rosetta mouth, and sailed upstream as far as Memphis.
As the inhabitants of the various regions through which he passed offered resistance, he laid waste to the countryside and massacred all who stood in his path. Thus he arrived at the cities of the interior, intent upon seizing the treasures of the Egyptians. But he found these places protected by powerful talismans and defended by deep waters, moats, and barricades. He remained there for many days, unable to seize them; in his anger against the priest, he killed him. Almost all of his companions had perished; meanwhile, the Egyptians rallied, killed a great number of those who had remained aboard the ships, and set fire to several vessels.
Furthermore, drawing upon their magical arts and their mastery of terrifying enchantments, they conjured up a storm that raged furiously and engulfed most of the fleet, such that only the King of the Franks managed to escape and flee. The Egyptians returned to their homes and villages, while the King, having returned to Memphis, prepared an expedition against the land of Rūm; he marched there, laying waste to the islands. Thus, he became a formidable figure to other kings and relentlessly pursued the priests, massacring a great number of them. He reigned for sixty-seven years, died at the age of one hundred and seventy, and was buried in a subterranean vault in the heart of the city of Memphis. Buried alongside him were his treasures—gems, statues, and talismans—just as had been done for his ancestors; among these artifacts were four thousand mithqals of gold cast in the shapes of land and sea creatures, the image of an eagle carved from green stone, and that of a dragon wrought in gold. Inscribed upon his tomb were his name, the victories he had won over other kings, and the chronicles of his military campaigns; upon his passing, the empire passed to his son, Todras (Tedāris).
When Gūriāq, daughter of Tūtis, the first Pharaoh of Egypt and the Pharaoh of Abraham, ascended the royal throne after having slain her father, she governed her subjects with wisdom and amassed treasures such as no kings had ever gathered before; she heaped honors upon the priests, the scholars, and the great magicians, and elevated their rank. She built temples in great numbers. Those who refused to obey her took refuge in the city of Atrīb and chose as their king a man of the lineage of Atrīb, named Aīdākhas (Andāḥos). They girded the crown upon his head, and the people gathered around him in throngs. Gūriāq dispatched an army to fight him, which routed his forces and slew the majority of his partisans. Aīdākhas fled to Syria, where the Canaanites dwelt; he implored the aid of their king, who raised a mighty army on his behalf.
Gūriāq then opened her storehouses, distributed her treasures, and empowered her magicians, who set their arts to work. Aīdākhas advanced with the Canaanite army, commanded by a general named Girūn. As soon as the enemy had entered Egypt, Gūriāq—without Aīdākhas’s knowledge—sent her wet-nurse, a woman of exceptional intelligence, to the general; she conveyed to him that Gūriāq desired to take him as her husband, that she held no affection for any man within her own court, and that if he would but slay Aīdākhas, she would become his wife and have him proclaimed King of Egypt. Girūn, overjoyed, administered to Aīdākhas the poison sent by the queen and brought about his death. But Gūriāq, following the murder of Aīdākhas, sent word to Jirūn that she could not marry him so long as the Canaanites remained in Egypt and until he had built a wondrous city. In those days, the Canaanites were renowned as excellent builders of structures and were reputed to possess the skill to execute marvelous feats. “Leave the place where you are,” she continued, “and make your way to the west of my land; repair the many ruins found there, restore the existing structures, and upon them, erect new ones.”
Jirūn did just that; in the Western Desert, he built a city named Qidūmah (Andūmah), into which he channeled water from the Nile by means of a canal. The city was encircled by numerous plantations, and a towering spire was raised within it, at the summit of which stood a belvedere clad in gold, silver, glass, and marble. The queen showered Jirūn with riches and, unbeknownst to him, wrote to the king, her master. When Jirūn had completed the construction of the city, Gūriāq said to him: “Another of our fortified cities, one held by our predecessors, has been partially destroyed; its citadel lies in ruins. Go forth and set about repairing it; thereafter, I shall be able to travel to the city you have built. And when you have finished repairing this second city, send me your army so that I may come to you, leaving behind my own city and the people of my household; for it is my desire that you take me as your wife—I, who am their close kinswoman.” And Jirūn went forth and built the second Alexandria.
Historians recount that the one who came to attack Gūriāq was actually al-Wālīd, son of Dūma’, the Amalekite and the second Pharaoh. The alleged cause of this aggression was as follows: Al-Wālīd, having fallen ill, dispatched messengers to every land with instructions to bring him back water from those regions, so that he might determine which source possessed the power to cure him. He sent a young man to Egypt, who was struck with wonder by the abundance and prosperity he encountered there. Upon drinking the local water, he found it exquisite; returning to his master, he gave him a full account of the state of affairs in Egypt. Al-Wālīd subsequently set out for Egypt with a vast army.
The royal secretary wrote to the Queen to ask for her hand in marriage; the Queen replied, reaching an agreement with him that he would build her a city—a city that would stand as a testament to his strength and power, and which would serve as the Queen’s dower. He accepted the terms and, traversing the land, made his way to the western region of Egypt. The Queen sent him all manner of fragrant flowers and fruits, and provided him with mounts. He proceeded to Alexandria, which had lain in ruins since the departure of the ’Ādites, and gathered up all the stones, structures, and columns he found there to lay the foundations of a magnificent city. He employed one hundred thousand laborers for its construction; they toiled for a very long time, and he expended upon the project every ounce of wealth he possessed.
Yet, whenever he had completed a section of the edifice, a creature would emerge from the sea and destroy the previous day’s work, leaving no trace of it by the following morning, a phenomenon that greatly troubled the builder. Gūriāq had sent him a gift of one thousand milk goats, the milk of which he used for his cooking; this herd was accompanied by a herdsman who led them to graze at that very spot by the seashore. Each evening, as he was preparing to retire, the shepherd would see a magnificent woman emerge from the sea, a woman he desired in his heart. This woman spoke to him and proposed a contest: they would wrestle together, and if he emerged victorious, she would belong to him; but if, conversely, she claimed the victory, she would take two of his goats. Every evening, the woman was victorious and led away two of the beasts from the flock; this continued until she had taken more than half of the goats. As for the remainder, they merely languished, for the shepherd was too consumed by love to tend to them properly.
One day, his master happened to pass by and inquired about his condition; the shepherd, fearing his master’s severity, recounted his strange adventure. The King then assumed the shepherd’s clothes and duties for the entire day; toward evening, he saw the woman approach him and propose the same pact. He accepted, wrestled with her, emerged victorious, and treated her roughly. “Would to God,” she cried out, “that my conqueror would return me to my first companion, for he was kind to me, and I have made him suffer for a long time!” He therefore handed her back to the shepherd, to whom he said: “Question her regarding those structures which, no sooner are they erected, than they are toppled during the night. Ask her who is responsible for this, and whether there is any means to remedy it.”
The shepherd questioned the woman, who replied: “It is the creatures of the sea that topple your structures.” “What stratagem should be employed?” asked the shepherd. “Listen,” she replied: “You must construct chests out of thick glass, fitted with lids, and place inside them skilled draftsmen equipped with sheets of metal, styluses, and every other supply they might require for several days. Then, have the chests transported by boat—but only after securing them with ropes.” “And when the crates have been lowered into the depths of the water, let draftsmen sketch everything that passes nearby; thereafter, the chests shall be hoisted up, and statues conforming to the drawings, whether of copper, stone, or lead, shall be fashioned and erected facing the sea, in front of the structures. The creatures, upon emerging from the water, will behold these images and flee, never to return.” The shepherd apprised his master of all this, and the master carried out the woman’s instructions; thus, he was able to complete his constructions and build the city.
It is claimed that the man responsible for the structures and the herd was Jirūn, who had attacked the Egyptians prior to al-Wālīd, and that al-Wālīd arrived only after the reign of Gūriāq, whereupon he defeated the Egyptians and seized control of Egypt.
It is recounted that Jirūn expended his entire fortune on the construction of the city without ever managing to complete it, and that he instructed the herdsman to consult the woman regarding the matter. “Within the ruins of the city,” she said, “lies a circus ring encircled by seven columns, each surmounted by an upright copper statue. Sacrifice a fat bull before each of these statues, and smear the column supporting it with the bull’s blood. Furthermore, offer incense to the statue by burning hair from the bull’s tail, along with shavings from its horns and hooves, while reciting: ‘These offerings are for you; grant me that which lies within your possession.’ Next, measure a distance of one hundred cubits outward from each column, following the direction in which the statue’s face is turned; then, at the precise moment when the full moon coincides with the rising of Saturn, dig a pit. After descending fifty cubits, you will encounter an enormous stone slab; rub it with the bull’s gall and lift it aside. You will then descend into an underground passage, fifty cubits in length, at the end of which lies a storeroom secured by a lock. The key to this lock is concealed beneath the door’s threshold; retrieve it, then rub the door with the remainder of the bull’s gall and blood, burn pieces of its horn and hoof along with some hair from its tail, and enter. You will find yourself standing before a statue wearing a copper tablet around its neck, upon which is inscribed an inventory of the contents of the storeroom. Take whatever you desire, but do not touch any of the corpses you may see there, nor disturb any of the objects they bear upon their persons. Proceed in this manner for each of the columns and each of the statues.” “Each of them will yield to you a similar storehouse. They are seven naoi—royal tombs—and their treasures.”
Armed with these instructions, the king set out with the shepherd to carry them out, and he discovered things impossible to describe and wonders beyond number. Thus, he completed the construction of the city. News of this reached Gūriāq, who grew apprehensive and resolved to intimidate him, or, failing that, to bring about his demise through cunning. It is recounted that, among the objects thus discovered, there was a sealed scroll containing a small vial of emeralds; within this vial lay a green powder and a slender red wand. Whosoever rubbed their eyelids with this powder using the wand would find their hair, even if white with age, restored to blackness, and their gaze would acquire such acuity that they could perceive spirits. He also discovered a golden statue capable of summoning clouds to veil the sky and bringing forth rain, as well as stone effigies of ravens that would answer when questions were put to them. In each storehouse, he found ten wondrous objects.
When the construction was complete, he sent a summons to Gūriāq, bidding her come to his presence. The queen sent him a magnificent carpet to adorn the chamber where he sat, accompanied by this message: “Divide your army into three divisions. Send me the first third; then, when I have traversed one-third of the journey, send me the second; and finally, when I have covered half the distance, send me the last third. In this way, your troops will follow in my wake, and no one shall catch sight of me as I enter your abode. Retain by your side only those pages who customarily attend to your needs; as for myself, I shall arrive accompanied solely by those women indispensable to your service—women before whom you need feel no shame.” And so it was done; Gūriāq assembled her retinue and baggage train, and set forth upon the road. Forewarned of her departure, Jirūn sent a third of his army to meet her; the queen had poisoned food and drink prepared for these troops, and had them served by her slaves and members of her own family, who presented them with dishes, refreshments, perfumes, and all manner of delicacies. Not a single one of Jirūn’s soldiers awoke alive the next morning, and the queen continued her march. When the second third of the army came to meet her, she inflicted the same fate upon them, then sent word to Jirūn that she had dispatched his army to his palace and his capital to hold them in safekeeping for him. She then resumed her journey and arrived in his presence, accompanied by her wet nurse and her handmaidens. The wet nurse breathed upon Jirūn’s face—a breath that left him stupefied—and sprinkled him with a liquid she carried with her. Jirūn’s limbs began to tremble, and he said: “Who, then, believes he can prevail over women? Such a man deceives himself, for women prevail over him.” The queen opened his veins, declaring: “The blood of kings is a remedy.” She severed his head, carried it away, and mounted it atop her palace; she seized all his riches and sent them to the city of Memphis, and in Alexandria, she built a tower upon which she engraved her own name, that of her victim, and the full account, along with the date, of her exploit. When the kings learned of what Gūriāq had done, they came to fear her and submitted themselves to her rule.
Ibn Khordadbeh states: It is recounted that Alexandria was built over the course of three hundred years, and that for seventy years thereafter, its inhabitants were obliged to wear black veils whenever they ventured out, in order to shield their eyes from the dazzling whiteness of the city walls and of the marvelous lighthouse that stood amidst the sea, perched upon a glass crab. In addition to its ordinary residents, Alexandria was home to six hundred thousand Jews, who were fully integrated into the general population.
According to ibn Waṣīf Shāh, the crops extended, through the desert of Rosetta and Alexandria, as far as Barqah; one could walk there across the land of Egypt and no provisions were needed, so much fruit and other good things were abundant; and one walked constantly sheltered by the shade of the trees against the heat of the sun. King Ṣā, son of Qobṭīm, raised palaces in this desert, planted large plantations there, and brought from the Nile canals which, starting from the western bank of the river, went as far as the western border of the country, through uninterrupted fields. And when the population had disappeared, its traces remained in this desert; the palaces are destroyed, the inhabitants are dispersed, but they continue to tell of this region what they saw there of the ruins and marvels, and surprising legends.
Ibn ’Abd al-Hakam recounts that the one who built Alexandria and laid its foundations was Dhu‘l-Qarnayn the Greek, whose name is Alexander, and who gave his name to Alexandria; it was he who was the first to fashion fabrics woven with threads of gold.
And his father was the first Caesar. It is said that the original builder was a man from Egypt named Murzabah, son of Murzabah the Greek, of the lineage of Yunan, son of Japheth, son of Noah; according to others, he hailed from Libya, one of the western districts of Egypt. Ibn Lahi‘ah states that the population of this land was Greek; as for (Alexander) himself, he claims that he was Himyarite. Ibn Tubba’ said:
My grandfather, Dhu'l-Qarnayn, was a Muslim,
And a king before whom other kings bowed in their assemblies;
He reached the West and the East, seeking
To acquire knowledge from a philosopher of wise intellect.
He beheld the sun setting at the very point where it sets--
Where lies a spring, fed not by rain, but filled with foul-smelling mud.
In another account, it is stated: “Dhu‘l-Qarnayn was a Muslim before my time.”
Uthman ibn Salah told me: Abd Allah ibn Wahb—who received it from Abd al-Rahman ibn Ziyad ibn An‘am, who in turn received it from Sa‘d ibn Mas'ud al-Tajibi, who himself received it from two elders of his tribe—recounted to me the following: “We were in Alexandria, and finding the time dragging, we said: ‘Why do we not go to see ’Uqbah ibn ’Amir and converse with him?’ So we went to his home and found him seated inside; we informed him that we had found the day to be passing very slowly. ‘I, too,’ he replied, ‘finding the time dragging, went out [and then came back in].’ Then, stepping forward toward us, he added: ‘I was once in attendance upon the Messenger of God. Suddenly, some people—Believers in the Book [Jews or Christians]—arrived, bringing with them some scrolls or books, and said to me: “We request permission to present ourselves before the Messenger of God.” I went to the Prophet and informed him of the situation. “What is there between them and me?” he asked. “They have come to question me about matters I cannot comprehend. I am but a servant, and I know only what my Lord has taught me.” Then he added: “Bring me water for ablution.” Having then purified himself, he proceeded to the prayer niche within his home, performed two prostrations, and returned—with joy and satisfaction clearly visible upon his face. He returned, therefore, and said to me: “Let them enter, along with any of my Companions whom you find waiting at the door.”‘“ I ushered them in, and when they stood in the presence of the Apostle of God, he said to them: “If you wish, I will set forth to you the matters on which you seek to question me before you speak; or, if you prefer, speak first and present your case yourselves.” “Indeed,” they replied, “set it forth to us before we speak.” “You desire,” the Prophet resumed, “to question me concerning Dhu’l-Qarnayn, and I shall tell you what is written in your books regarding him: First, he was a young man from the land of Rum who attained kingship. Then he undertook an expedition, arrived at the shores of the Egyptian Sea, and there founded a city that took the name Alexandria. When its construction was complete, an angel came, took him up, and gradually lifted him into the air to a very great height. Dhu’l-Qarnayn looked up for the first time, and the angel said to him: ‘Look down beneath you.’ ‘I see,’ said Dhu’l-Qarnayn, ‘my city, and other cities alongside it.’ The angel ascended higher still and said: ‘Look.’ ‘I see my city all alone, and I see no other.’ ‘What you see thus,’ said the angel, ‘is the entire Earth, and that which surrounds the Earth is the sea. Your Lord desired to show you the Earth, and He has granted you therein a power that shall later serve as a lesson for the ignorant and a proof for the wise.’” Then Dhu’l-Qarnayn traveled to the place where the sun sets, and thereafter to the place where the sun rises; finally, he arrived at the double barrier formed by two very smooth mountains—upon which all things slide—and there he constructed the barrier; Then, passing beyond Yagog and Magog, he encountered a people whose faces resembled those of dogs and who waged war against Yagog and Magog; moving further on, he found a people of dwarves who waged war against the dog-faced people, and then a people of cranes who waged war against the dwarves; then, continuing his journey, he encountered a people of serpents, each of which could swallow an enormous rock. Finally, he arrived at the sea that encircles the earth. “And the Prophet’s visitors said to him: ‘We attest that such is his story, and that it is recounted in this very manner in our books.’”
According to Khaled ibn Ma‘dan al-Kala‘i, the Prophet of God, when asked about Dhu‘l-Qarnayn, replied: “He governed the face of the earth, reaching down to its very depths.” The same Khaled relates that ‘Umar ibn al-Khattab, upon hearing a man cry out, “O Dhu‘l-Qarnayn!”, said: “O my God, grant forgiveness! Are the prophets no longer sufficient for you, that you now invoke the angels?”
Qatada asserts, on the authority of Al-Hasan, that Dhu‘l-Qarnayn was a king and a pious man, and that the name Dhu‘l-Qarnayn was bestowed upon him for this very reason. When asked about this figure, ’Ali replied that he was neither an angel nor a prophet, but a pious servant—one who loved God and was loved by God, who was sincere toward God, and toward whom God was sincere. The Lord sent him to his people, who struck him upon his two “horns” (temples). He died, and thereafter was given the epithet Dhu‘l-Qarnayn. It is also said that this nickname was conferred upon him because he had reached the two “horns” (extreme points) of the sun, its setting place and its rising place; according to others, it was because he wore his hair in two plaits that he coiled up, or because he had two small horns that he concealed beneath his turban.
According to Ibn Shihab, he was called Dhu‘l-Qarnayn because he reached the “horn” of the sun in the West and the “horn” of the sun in the East.
According to ‘Abd Allah ibn ‘Amr ibn al-‘As, as soon as Alexandria was built, Pharaoh began by establishing workshops and dwellings there; these constituted the very first traces of civilization and construction to appear in that place. Since that time, construction has continued there without interruption, and the workshops have never ceased to function. After this Pharaoh, the kings of Egypt altered the city's aspect; Dalūka bint Zaba erected the Tower of Alexandria and the Lighthouse of Būqir. When Solomon, son of David, appeared on the earth, he built there a dwelling and a place of prayer. Subsequently, Dhu‘l-Qarnayn, having taken possession of the city, demolished all the structures that had been raised there by kings, Pharaohs, and other figures—with the exception of those built by Solomon. These he respected, leaving them unaltered and contenting himself merely with repairing whatever had fallen into disrepair. Thus, he restored the lighthouse and raised within Alexandria a series of edifices that were uniform in design, from the first to the last. After Alexander, kings succeeded one another, Greeks and others, and not one of them failed to construct in Alexandria some monument that is known to this day by the name of the king who built it and to whom it is attributed.
Ibn Lahi‘ah said: I was told that a stone was found in Alexandria bearing this inscription: “I am Shaddād bin ‘Ād, who erected the pillars, hewed out the quarries (al-ahyad) with my own arm, and dammed the rivers. In undertaking these works, I believed neither in old age nor in death; and the stone was as soft as silt.” In another account, one reads: “I buried a treasure in the sea, lying at a depth of more than twelve cubits, which no one shall be able to retrieve, save for the people of Muhammad.” Ibn Lahi‘ah states that the word al-ahyad is equivalent to the word al-maghar (caves, caverns). Abu ’Ali al-Qali, in the Kitab al-Amali, writes: Ibn al-A‘rabi and others recited these verses:
You ask me the measure of my years;
And I replied: “Had I lived the age of the lizard,
Or the age of Noah since the Deluge--
Had I been able to fathom the voiceless insects,
Had I lived through the entire span of time that has passed since the Flood--
Surely, I would long since have fallen prey to old age or death.”
And in another lesson:
Solomon learned the language of the ant,
In the days when rock was like mud
Another said: "Regarding the time that followed the Deluge, that which had been solid now was soft.”
For them, the 'time of the Faḥl refers to the period immediately succeeding the Flood, a time during which fertility was miraculous and prosperity truly remarkable.” Someone else remarked: “The ‘time of the Faḥl’ was an era without equal.” As for the term ’ilm al-ḥakl (the science of ḥakl): “Those animals whose voices are never heard are referred to as ḥakl.” — These verses were composed by Rubat ibn al-Ajaj ibn Rūbah ibn Labid ibn Sakhr ibn Kathif ibn Hayy ibn Bakr ibn Zabi’at ibn Sa'd ibn Malik ibn Zayd Manah ibn Tamim. The circumstances under which he composed them are as follows: Having led his camels to drink at a spring belonging to the tribe of ’Aql, he caught sight of a young woman who captivated him; he thereupon asked for her hand in marriage. “I see that you have reached an advanced age,” she replied; "but do you also possess any worldly wealth?" “Yes,” he replied, “I have a heard of cattle.” “Is there also money?” asked the young woman. "No," he replied. “O people of 'Aql!” she cried out, “you have such great pretensions, yet you are poor!” And Rūbah then replied:
“By despising my station and making light of my flock,
She has shown her displeasure and humiliated—among the people of ‘Aql--
My standing; and she made a gesture with her head, as if to prove it to me.
You ask me the number of my years,
And I say that had I lived the lifespan of the lizard,
Or that of Noah since the Deluge--
When the moist stone was akin to muddy silt.”
And in another lesson:
“I had come to know the language of voiceless beasts,
(Just) as Solomon knew the tongue of the ants.”
Abu Bakr ibn Durayd, when questioned regarding the era of the Faṭḥal, replied: “The Arabs claim that it was the time when stones were soft.”
It is stated in ’Abd al-Hakam: It is said that the builder of Alexandria was Shaddād bin ’Ād—and God knows best.
Alexandria comprised three juxtaposed cities, namely: the Lighthouse and its environs; Alexandria proper, that is, the heart of present-day Alexandria; and Nafitah. Each was encircled by a wall, behind which rose a second wall that completely encompassed all three cities. It is said that Alexandria was defended by seven well-armed fortresses and seven moats. Alexander clad the walls and pavements of the city of Alexandria in marble; at that time, its inhabitants wore garments of black and red. In those days, monks dressed in black because of the dazzling whiteness of the marble, which was so brilliant that there was no need to light torches at night, and as soon as the moon appeared, one could easily sew or thread a needle.
It is recounted that Alexandria took three hundred years to build, was inhabited for three hundred years, and lay in ruins for three hundred years. What is certain is that, for seventy years, no one could enter the city without covering their eyes with a black veil, owing to the blinding whiteness of the plaster and flagstones; during this period, no lamps were lit within the city. The city remained as white and radiant by night as it was by day; yet, as soon as the sun had set, no one dared venture out of their home—for anyone who risked stepping outside would vanish. Among the city's inhabitants was a shepherd who grazed his flock along the seashore; from the sea would emerge a figure who would snatch away one of his animals. The shepherd, having concealed himself at that very spot, lay in wait for the arrival of the abductor. And he saw a woman smoothing her hair who attempted to push him away; yet he overpowered her and led her back to his home, where she lived intimately with him. Observing that the city’s inhabitants no longer ventured out after sunset, the woman asked them the reason why; they explained that any among them who dared to venture outside were abducted. She then fashioned talismans for them—becoming, in fact, the very first person in Egypt to craft talismans within the city of Alexandria. It is recounted that the marble itself proved a genuine nuisance to the inhabitants; for at dawn, it gleamed as dazzlingly white as flour, and this brilliance intensified even further as noon approached.
According to al-Masʿūdī, certain historians relate that once Alexander the Macedonian had settled the administration of his realms and set forth to conquer the entire world, spanning air, land, and sea, he arrived at the site where Alexandria now stands. There, he discovered the ruins of ancient monuments and a multitude of marble columns; in the very center of the city stood a colossal column bearing the following inscription in Musnad script, the ancient writing system of the Himyarite peoples and the kings of ’Ād: "I am Shaddād ibn ’Ād; with my own arm, I dammed the rivers and hewed these gigantic columns, as well as the hills and towering mountains. I built Iram of the Pillars--Iram Zat al-Amad—a city without equal upon the earth. Here, I intended to construct a city mirroring Iram, and to gather within it all that was noble and generous among my kin and my people, a place where fear, old age, sorrow, and sickness would hold no sway. Yet the hour of reckoning arrived and snatched me away from my designs; and the advent of that hour became the source of my enduring grief and anguish. Brief was my dream, and fleeting was my sojourn [upon the earth]. Yesterday, I was compelled to leave my home; and there is no king, however powerful he may be, who does not find himself subject to this reality. There is no army, no matter its size, that is not susceptible to a fear against which one can defend oneself neither by force of will nor by disdain. There is a limit to power; monuments vanish, as does the sublime and glorious Sultan himself. Whoever beholds the monuments I have left behind, whoever learns of my history, the span of my life, and the ultimate undoing of my genius (despite the formidable precautions I had taken), that person shall no longer be beguiled by the world. For the world is deceptive and treacherous; from it, one must claim only what it freely yields, and take only what one is able to receive. There are lengthy discourses that demonstrate the futility of the world, warn against its deceptions, and dissuade one from seeking repose within it.”
Alexander, pensive, descended, pondering these words and adopting them as his guiding principle. Then he summoned artisans from every land and laid out the foundations of the city, to which he gave a length and breadth of several miles. He gathered there columns and blocks of alabaster, and summoned ships laden with alabaster, marble, and stones of every kind from the island of Sicily, from the lands of Greece and Crete, and from the farthest reaches of the Sea of Roum—the very place where it meets the Ocean Sea. Materials were also brought from the island of Rhodes. Orders were issued to the laborers to erect a wall around the site where the foundations had been marked out—a wall that would encircle the entire city. At every point where the earth had been excavated, a timber post was planted; each post was then connected to its neighbor by a taut rope stretching from one to the next, and the entire network was linked to a marble column positioned directly in front of his tent. Suspended from this column was a large, resonant bell; and all—masons, laborers, and artisans alike—were instructed that the moment they heard the tolling of this bell, and saw the ropes begin to sway (for every supporting post bore a smaller bell of its own), they were to lay the city's foundations simultaneously from every side. Alexander desired that this undertaking be executed at a moment of his own choosing, coinciding with an auspicious celestial rising. However, as Alexander kept watch for this propitious instant, his head gradually drooped, and he drifted into a light slumber. Just then, a crow alighted upon the rope supporting the large bell suspended from the column, setting the bell in motion. The great bell tolled; the ropes began to sway, and the smaller bells attached to them chimed, for the entire mechanism had been constructed through a series of ingeniously combined and scientifically calibrated movements. Upon seeing the ropes sway and hearing the bells chime, the laborers, acting in unison, laid the foundations of the city, raising their voices in shouts of praise and ritual purification.
Alexander, roused from his sleep, inquired as to what was transpiring; and upon learning the full account, he was filled with wonder. and said: “I desired one thing, but God desired another; and what God does not wish to grant, He withholds. I wished for this city to endure for a long time, but God willed that its disappearance and ruin be swift, and that kings should alter its destiny.” Thus, having arranged for the city's construction and laid its foundations, Alexander saw that—as soon as night fell—creatures of the sea emerged from the waters and surged against the structures already built. Upon witnessing this the following day, Alexander said: “Behold, the ruin of this city’s structures has already begun; may its end come to pass in accordance with the Creator's will!” And he took the damage wrought by the beasts of the sea as a dire omen; yet the construction continued. Each day men built and drafted plans, and watchmen were posted to repel the animals as they emerged from the sea. But when they returned in the morning, they found that the animals had indeed come and destroyed the structures. Alexander, deeply troubled, was terrified by this peril rising from the sea; he therefore reflected upon the matter, considering what course of action was fitting and what stratagem he might employ to avert this calamity and banish this misfortune from the city. And while he sat alone, pondering all these things, the stratagem he sought suddenly presented itself to his mind, along with the means to carry it into execution. The next morning, he summoned the workmen and ordered them to construct for him a wooden chest, ten cubits in length and five in width. Into this chest, windows of glass were fitted, framed on all sides by the surrounding wood, and sealed fast with pitch, mastic, and other resinous, watertight substances to prevent any water from entering the interior. Spaces were also provided therein for the mooring ropes. Into this chest Alexander stepped—accompanied by members of his staff who possessed skill in painting—and the doors were sealed shut behind him, after he had given the order to caulk (the seams) with the materials we have previously mentioned. Then, two large ships towed the chest out into the open sea; there—after weights of lead, iron, and stone had been suspended beneath the chest to drag it down into the depths—it was positioned between the two vessels, which were then lashed together with beams to prevent them from drifting apart. The ropes securing the chest were made fast to the two ships and then paid out. The chest plunged downward and reached the seabed, where those inside beheld demons in human form, though some possessed the heads of animals. Some were armed with axes, others with saws or picks, in imitation of the laborers and artisans of the city equipped with their construction tools.
Alexander and his companions carefully examined these figures and sketched them on paper, classifying them according to their various species and reproducing the hideousness of their forms and bodies. Then the rope was shaken, and, alerted by this signal, the men remaining in the boats hauled on the moorings and brought the chest to the surface. Alexander emerged from it and instructed the craftsmen working in iron, copper, and stone to fashion images of the animals exactly as they had been sketched; once this was done, the statues were erected upon columns at the water's edge, and construction resumed. When night fell, the destructive beasts emerged; yet, seeing their likenesses mounted on columns and facing out toward the sea, they departed and were never seen again. Thus, Alexandria was able to be built; its walls were covered with a coating of plaster, and upon the city gate, Alexander had this inscription engraved: “Here stands Alexandria, which I sought to build for the sake of safety, success, happiness, felicity, joy, and for the endurance of the ages; yet the Creator—the King of Heaven and Earth, the Destroyer of Nations—did not ordain that it should endure in such a manner. I founded it and oversaw its construction; I clad its walls in plaster, and God granted me all things, knowledge and wisdom, and smoothed away every difficulty before me. Whatever knowledge I desired, He bestowed upon me; He placed no impediment in the path of any enterprise I wished to undertake. To God belongs the grace; to me, the labor. Perfection is the lot of those among my contemporaries who served Him. Glory be to God, the Master of Mankind; there is no God but Him; He is the Lord of all things.” Following this inscription, he commissioned depictions of all that was destined to unfold in his land after his time—calamities, prosperity, and ruin—as well as all that was fated to befall Alexandria until the end of the world.
The construction of Alexandria rested upon vaults that formed arched bridges; atop these rose the city’s houses, while beneath them, horsemen armed with lances could pass with ease, thus circling the entire city beneath the underlying arches. Within these subterranean passages, openings and skylights had been provided to admit light, along with conduits to channel air. By night, Alexandria remained illuminated, without the need to light a single lamp, thanks to the radiant whiteness of its alabaster and marble. Its markets, streets, and avenues were sheltered by vaulted roofs, ensuring that the inhabitants never had to concern themselves with the rain. The city was encircled by seven walls, constructed from stones of various hues and separated by moats dug at a certain distance from the walls themselves. Furthermore, the city was draped in hangings of green silk to shield the inhabitants’ eyes from the glare of the marble, the whiteness of which was dazzling. Once the city had been built and populated, calamities ensued, events chronicled by those writers who have devoted themselves to the history of Egypt and Alexandria: Night after night, inhabitants were snatched away, and by the following morning, a considerable number of them had vanished. Upon learning of this, Alexander ordered the placement of talismans atop columns known as obelisks, columns that remain standing to this very day. Each of these columns was shaped like a cypress tree and stood eighty cubits high, resting upon a copper pedestal. Beneath each one, figures, images, and an inscription had been deposited.
Of all the preceding accounts, the author states, those of ibn Waṣīf Shāh are evidently authentic; as for what al-Masʿūdī reports—claiming that it was Alexander who constructed the submersible chamber used to observe marine animals—this is pure fabrication. For ibn Waṣīf Shāh is deeply versed in the chronicles of the Egyptians. Likewise, what al-Masʿūdī asserts regarding the obelisks erected by Alexander is sheer fantasy. These obelisks are, in reality, merely the beacons that illuminated the city and the signal markers raised by the ancient kings of Egypt. They are the works of the early Coptic monarchs and the Pharaohs who reigned over Egypt in antiquity.
CHAPTER V.
CONCERNING ALEXANDER.
This is Alexander, son of Philip, son of Amintah or Amyntas, son of Heraklesh or Heracles the formidable, who was himself the son of Alexander the Great. King Philip governed the land of Macedonia on behalf of his father for twenty-five years; during this time, he displayed every manner of cunning and devised every conceivable wickedness, far surpassing in this regard all those who had reigned in the land before him.
Early in his life, his brother Alexander had handed him over as a hostage to a chieftain in the land of Rūm, with whom he remained for three years. The chieftain of Rūm was a philosopher, and the young prince studied philosophy under his tutelage. Following the murder of his brother Alexander, the people chose Philip to succeed him, and he was proclaimed their leader. He proved to be a remarkable king: he waged war against the Greeks, defeated them, traversed the deserts—slaying thousands of people along the way—and captured numerous cities. He gathered around him an innumerable multitude and an extraordinary army; he humbled the Greeks, lost an eye in battle, invaded the land, and proceeded to ravage, pillage, and sack it. Subsequently, gathering together all the inhabitants of the land of Rūm, he formed them into an army of one hundred thousand foot soldiers and fifty thousand horsemen, not counting those who comprised his own national army, which consisted of Macedonians and men from other lands, and marched forth to conquer Persia.
While he was assembling his troops, he attended to the marriage of his daughter Cleopatra, whom he wished to wed to his wife’s father, his son Alexander’s uncle. Two days before the wedding, as he sat conversing with his generals, one of them asked him what manner of death he considered most preferable for a man. “The one,” he said, “that is fitting for a strong, valiant, and seasoned man”—meaning that, for himself, he desired to die by no other means than the sword. Yet, during the night, illness struck him; his strength failed him, overcome by pain, and he hastened the celebration of the marriage. He attended the festivities, seated in his chariot between his son Alexander and his kinsman Alexander; but, having withdrawn briefly to the side, a young Greek pierced him with a lance-thrust and killed him, thereby avenging his own father.
Alexander thus assumed the governance of the kingdom after his father Philip, and began by undertaking an expedition against the land of Rūm, which had cast off the Macedonian yoke to submit to Persian rule. He wiped out every trace of it, exterminated its inhabitants, destroyed its cities, and enslaved or sold its population; the entire land, down to the smallest villages, was compelled to pay him tribute. Thereafter, he put to death all the members of his family and most of his kinsmen, even as he prepared his expedition against Persia. His army comprised twenty-two thousand cavalrymen and sixty-thousand foot soldiers, while his fleet numbered five hundred and eighty vessels. It was with such meager forces that he made the greatest kings on earth tremble, that he reached Alexandria, and that he entered Jerusalem, where he offered sacrifices to God. He departed from Jerusalem to wage war against Dara. The army of Dara, King of Persia, at the time of its first encounter with Alexander, numbered six hundred thousand combatants. It was defeated by Alexander, a defeat that proved for the Persians a terrifying catastrophe and an unspeakable calamity; an extraordinary number of them were slain, while Alexander, for his part, killed one hundred and twenty cavalrymen and ninety foot soldiers.
Alexander continued on his way, capturing cities and plundering their contents, when he learned that Dara, having completed fresh preparations, was marching to meet him with considerable forces. Fearing that he might be overtaken in a mountain pass between two peaks where he happened to be at the time, he executed a forced march of nearly one hundred miles with prodigious speed, reaching the city of Tarsus; along the way, he had nearly died from the extreme cold, which had caused his nerves to seize up. Dara advanced with three hundred thousand infantrymen and one hundred thousand cavalry; and when the two armies stood face to face, Alexander, appalled by the immense numbers of the enemy and the insignificant strength of his own army, was on the verge of taking flight. Yet the battle was joined; the generals fought in the thick of the fray, the brave plunged into the mêlée, lance thrusts and sword strokes were exchanged, and the plain became too narrow to contain the multitude that filled it. The two kings, Dara and Alexander, fought hand-to-hand. Alexander was the most accomplished, bravest, and most vigorous horseman of his time; and the two kings struggled against one another until both were covered in wounds and Dara fled.
Then the slaughter of the Persians began; nearly eighty thousand infantrymen and ten thousand cavalrymen were slain, and approximately forty thousand men were taken prisoner; Alexander's army, by contrast, had lost barely two hundred infantrymen and one hundred and fifty cavalrymen. The Persian camp fell into Alexander's hands, where he seized incalculable quantities of gold, silver, and precious furnishings. Among the prisoners were Dara’s mother, wife, sister, and two daughters. Dara asked Alexander to return them to him in exchange for half his empire, but the Macedonian refused. Darius therefore made his preparations for the third time and gathered every last Persian, thereby assembling an army comprising all those among his peoples who were fit to bear arms. Alexander dispatched one of his generals who, with a fleet, sailed down to the land of Porus, while he himself marched upon Syria, where the kings of the world came to submit to him. To some he granted pardon; others he banished; and the rest he put to death.
He then advanced against the fortress of Tarsus—an ancient and magnificent city whose inhabitants had managed to win the trust of the Africans, who, thanks to the alliance they had formed, engaged in trade with them. Alexander besieged them so tightly that they eventually opened their gates; from there, the conqueror proceeded to Rhodes, and then to Egypt, laying waste to everything in his path. In Egypt, he founded Alexandria; Orosius discusses this foundation, entering—in this regard—into interminable narratives and reflections that we decline to cite, as they would unduly lengthen our book.
Having finished repairing his shattered forces, Darius set out with four hundred thousand infantrymen and one hundred thousand cavalry, and encountered Alexander, who was returning from Egypt, in the vicinity of Tarsus. The battle was titanic; the Greeks, prepared for and accustomed to both victory and death, fought with fierce determination. On the Persian side, the ferocity was no less intense, for they were roused to a frenzy of slaughter, preferring death to servitude and slavery. All that has ever been said of a chaotic melee pales in comparison to the carnage that marked this particular engagement.
At last, seeing his army defeated and in full rout, Dara contemplated preempting death in this encounter and avoiding captivity by risking his own life, seeking to be slain amidst the battle. One of his generals, moved by pity for him, attempted to offer consolation; but Darius, in turn, took flight. The army and the power of the Persians were in utter disarray, and fleeing right alongside them was the King himself. All the lands of the East were brought under the dominion of the realm of Rūm (the West), and the Persian kings vanished from the stage of history for four hundred and fifty years. Alexander then set about examining and cataloging everything found within the Persian camp; the division of the spoils among the Greek troops lasted thirty days, after which the conqueror marched upon the principal city of Persia, which also served as the capital of the entire kingdom and the repository of the world’s accumulated wealth and treasures, and proceeded to destroy and pillage it.
Upon learning that Dara had been taken captive, and was being held in silver chains by one of his own subjects, Alexander made his preparations and set out with six thousand men. On his journey, he encountered Dara, riddled with numerous wounds from which he soon expired. The Macedonian mourned him deeply, delivered a funeral oration, and had him interred within the royal tombs of the Persian kings. The three battles just described serve as an example for those who like to guide themselves by examples, and as a lesson for those who value counsel; for in these three encounters, nearly fifteen million men from a single empire—cavalry and infantry from Asia, that is to say, from Iraq—were seen locked in combat. Sixty years earlier, nearly nineteen million men from that same empire had been slain, plus another million comprising cavalry and infantry from Iraq, Syria, Tarsus, Egypt, the Isle of Rhodes, and all the other lands that Alexander had subjugated. He reigned supreme over the world; yet the very world he had made to tremble through the extraordinary calamities he inflicted upon it was, upon his death, parceled out among his generals. And the inhabitants of the earth were either annihilated by gruesome deaths or else, inflamed by a lust for slaughter, became accomplices in these horrific massacres. In his dying moments, Alexander decreed that each of his generals should, after his own passing, adopt the surname Ptolemy, a measure intended to strike terror into the hearts of their enemies, for the name Ptolemy signifies “the Warrior.” Such is the unvarnished truth regarding the history of Alexander; as for anything that deviates from this account, it is unworthy of belief.
It is said that Alexander had red hair and blue eyes; he was the first man to make a practice of keeping vigil through the night. He kept jesters to amuse him and storytellers to recount extraordinary tales, not merely for the sake of idle amusement, but as a means of maintaining his self-mastery and keeping his own soul in check. It was from him that kings subsequently adopted the custom of keeping night vigils and surrounding themselves with jesters and storytellers.
Early in his life, his brother Alexander had handed him over as a hostage to a chieftain in the land of Rūm, with whom he remained for three years. The chieftain of Rūm was a philosopher, and the young prince studied philosophy under his tutelage. Following the murder of his brother Alexander, the people chose Philip to succeed him, and he was proclaimed their leader. He proved to be a remarkable king: he waged war against the Greeks, defeated them, traversed the deserts—slaying thousands of people along the way—and captured numerous cities. He gathered around him an innumerable multitude and an extraordinary army; he humbled the Greeks, lost an eye in battle, invaded the land, and proceeded to ravage, pillage, and sack it. Subsequently, gathering together all the inhabitants of the land of Rūm, he formed them into an army of one hundred thousand foot soldiers and fifty thousand horsemen, not counting those who comprised his own national army, which consisted of Macedonians and men from other lands, and marched forth to conquer Persia.
While he was assembling his troops, he attended to the marriage of his daughter Cleopatra, whom he wished to wed to his wife’s father, his son Alexander’s uncle. Two days before the wedding, as he sat conversing with his generals, one of them asked him what manner of death he considered most preferable for a man. “The one,” he said, “that is fitting for a strong, valiant, and seasoned man”—meaning that, for himself, he desired to die by no other means than the sword. Yet, during the night, illness struck him; his strength failed him, overcome by pain, and he hastened the celebration of the marriage. He attended the festivities, seated in his chariot between his son Alexander and his kinsman Alexander; but, having withdrawn briefly to the side, a young Greek pierced him with a lance-thrust and killed him, thereby avenging his own father.
Alexander thus assumed the governance of the kingdom after his father Philip, and began by undertaking an expedition against the land of Rūm, which had cast off the Macedonian yoke to submit to Persian rule. He wiped out every trace of it, exterminated its inhabitants, destroyed its cities, and enslaved or sold its population; the entire land, down to the smallest villages, was compelled to pay him tribute. Thereafter, he put to death all the members of his family and most of his kinsmen, even as he prepared his expedition against Persia. His army comprised twenty-two thousand cavalrymen and sixty-thousand foot soldiers, while his fleet numbered five hundred and eighty vessels. It was with such meager forces that he made the greatest kings on earth tremble, that he reached Alexandria, and that he entered Jerusalem, where he offered sacrifices to God. He departed from Jerusalem to wage war against Dara. The army of Dara, King of Persia, at the time of its first encounter with Alexander, numbered six hundred thousand combatants. It was defeated by Alexander, a defeat that proved for the Persians a terrifying catastrophe and an unspeakable calamity; an extraordinary number of them were slain, while Alexander, for his part, killed one hundred and twenty cavalrymen and ninety foot soldiers.
Alexander continued on his way, capturing cities and plundering their contents, when he learned that Dara, having completed fresh preparations, was marching to meet him with considerable forces. Fearing that he might be overtaken in a mountain pass between two peaks where he happened to be at the time, he executed a forced march of nearly one hundred miles with prodigious speed, reaching the city of Tarsus; along the way, he had nearly died from the extreme cold, which had caused his nerves to seize up. Dara advanced with three hundred thousand infantrymen and one hundred thousand cavalry; and when the two armies stood face to face, Alexander, appalled by the immense numbers of the enemy and the insignificant strength of his own army, was on the verge of taking flight. Yet the battle was joined; the generals fought in the thick of the fray, the brave plunged into the mêlée, lance thrusts and sword strokes were exchanged, and the plain became too narrow to contain the multitude that filled it. The two kings, Dara and Alexander, fought hand-to-hand. Alexander was the most accomplished, bravest, and most vigorous horseman of his time; and the two kings struggled against one another until both were covered in wounds and Dara fled.
Then the slaughter of the Persians began; nearly eighty thousand infantrymen and ten thousand cavalrymen were slain, and approximately forty thousand men were taken prisoner; Alexander's army, by contrast, had lost barely two hundred infantrymen and one hundred and fifty cavalrymen. The Persian camp fell into Alexander's hands, where he seized incalculable quantities of gold, silver, and precious furnishings. Among the prisoners were Dara’s mother, wife, sister, and two daughters. Dara asked Alexander to return them to him in exchange for half his empire, but the Macedonian refused. Darius therefore made his preparations for the third time and gathered every last Persian, thereby assembling an army comprising all those among his peoples who were fit to bear arms. Alexander dispatched one of his generals who, with a fleet, sailed down to the land of Porus, while he himself marched upon Syria, where the kings of the world came to submit to him. To some he granted pardon; others he banished; and the rest he put to death.
He then advanced against the fortress of Tarsus—an ancient and magnificent city whose inhabitants had managed to win the trust of the Africans, who, thanks to the alliance they had formed, engaged in trade with them. Alexander besieged them so tightly that they eventually opened their gates; from there, the conqueror proceeded to Rhodes, and then to Egypt, laying waste to everything in his path. In Egypt, he founded Alexandria; Orosius discusses this foundation, entering—in this regard—into interminable narratives and reflections that we decline to cite, as they would unduly lengthen our book.
Having finished repairing his shattered forces, Darius set out with four hundred thousand infantrymen and one hundred thousand cavalry, and encountered Alexander, who was returning from Egypt, in the vicinity of Tarsus. The battle was titanic; the Greeks, prepared for and accustomed to both victory and death, fought with fierce determination. On the Persian side, the ferocity was no less intense, for they were roused to a frenzy of slaughter, preferring death to servitude and slavery. All that has ever been said of a chaotic melee pales in comparison to the carnage that marked this particular engagement.
At last, seeing his army defeated and in full rout, Dara contemplated preempting death in this encounter and avoiding captivity by risking his own life, seeking to be slain amidst the battle. One of his generals, moved by pity for him, attempted to offer consolation; but Darius, in turn, took flight. The army and the power of the Persians were in utter disarray, and fleeing right alongside them was the King himself. All the lands of the East were brought under the dominion of the realm of Rūm (the West), and the Persian kings vanished from the stage of history for four hundred and fifty years. Alexander then set about examining and cataloging everything found within the Persian camp; the division of the spoils among the Greek troops lasted thirty days, after which the conqueror marched upon the principal city of Persia, which also served as the capital of the entire kingdom and the repository of the world’s accumulated wealth and treasures, and proceeded to destroy and pillage it.
Upon learning that Dara had been taken captive, and was being held in silver chains by one of his own subjects, Alexander made his preparations and set out with six thousand men. On his journey, he encountered Dara, riddled with numerous wounds from which he soon expired. The Macedonian mourned him deeply, delivered a funeral oration, and had him interred within the royal tombs of the Persian kings. The three battles just described serve as an example for those who like to guide themselves by examples, and as a lesson for those who value counsel; for in these three encounters, nearly fifteen million men from a single empire—cavalry and infantry from Asia, that is to say, from Iraq—were seen locked in combat. Sixty years earlier, nearly nineteen million men from that same empire had been slain, plus another million comprising cavalry and infantry from Iraq, Syria, Tarsus, Egypt, the Isle of Rhodes, and all the other lands that Alexander had subjugated. He reigned supreme over the world; yet the very world he had made to tremble through the extraordinary calamities he inflicted upon it was, upon his death, parceled out among his generals. And the inhabitants of the earth were either annihilated by gruesome deaths or else, inflamed by a lust for slaughter, became accomplices in these horrific massacres. In his dying moments, Alexander decreed that each of his generals should, after his own passing, adopt the surname Ptolemy, a measure intended to strike terror into the hearts of their enemies, for the name Ptolemy signifies “the Warrior.” Such is the unvarnished truth regarding the history of Alexander; as for anything that deviates from this account, it is unworthy of belief.
It is said that Alexander had red hair and blue eyes; he was the first man to make a practice of keeping vigil through the night. He kept jesters to amuse him and storytellers to recount extraordinary tales, not merely for the sake of idle amusement, but as a means of maintaining his self-mastery and keeping his own soul in check. It was from him that kings subsequently adopted the custom of keeping night vigils and surrounding themselves with jesters and storytellers.
CHAPTER VII.
ON THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ALEXANDER AND DHU’L QARNAYN,
WHO ARE TWO DISTINCT FIGURES.
Those versed in history hold it as certain that Dhu’l-Qarnayn is the figure whom God mentions in His Holy Book when He says: “They will ask you concerning Dhu’l-Qarnayn; answer: ‘I shall tell you something of him; We gave him dominion over the earth and provided him with all things’” (Qur’an 18:82–83). Consequently, he became a subject that the Arabs frequently treated in their poetry. His name was al‑Ṣaʿb ibn Dhū Murāthid ibn al‑Ḥārith al‑Rāʾish ibn al‑Himāl Dhū Sudad ibn ʿAd Dhū Manāh ibn ʿĀmir al‑Mūltat ibn Saksak ibn Wāʾil ibn Ḥimyar ibn Sabaʾ ibn Yashjub ibn Yaʿrub ibn Qaḥṭān ibn Hūd ibn ʿĀbir ibn Ṣāliḥ ibn Arfakhshadh ibn Sām ibn Nūḥ; he was a king of the Himyarites—that is to say, of the “pure Arabs,” also referred to as the “full-blooded Arabs.” Dhu’l-Qarnayn was, therefore, a Tubba’ (the title borne by the Himyarite kings) who wore the crown. When he was appointed king, he initially conducted himself with arrogance; subsequently, however, he humbled himself before God and joined company with Al Khidr. Those who have sought to identify Alexander, son of Philip, with Dhu’l-Qarnayn—the one who erected the barrier—are mistaken. The terms Dhu ’arabiah and Dhu’l-Qarnayn are, in fact, epithets that the Arabs bestow upon the kings of Yemen; Alexander was a Rumi—a Greek. Abu Ja‘far al-Tabari reports that Al-Khidr lived during the reign of King Afridūn ibn al-Dahhak; this, at least, is the prevailing opinion among the generality of those who believe in the Scripture. Al-Khidr's era, therefore, predates the time of Moses, son of Amran; he was, it is said, a forerunner of Dhu’l-Qarnayn the Great, a contemporary of Abraham. Al-Khidr traveled with Dhu’l-Qarnayn, reaching alongside him the land where the River of Life flows, and drank of its waters unbeknownst to Dhu’l-Qarnayn or his companions. For this reason, Al-Khidr lived on, and indeed lives still, according to the claims of these historians. According to other accounts, Dhu’l-Qarnayn was present at the oath-taking of Abraham and is, in fact, identical to Afridūn ibn al-Dahhak, the very king of whom Al-Khidr was said to be the forerunner.
Abu Muhammad ’Abd al-Malik ibn Hisham, in his work The Book of Crowns (which treats of the history of kings of bygone eras), having recounted the genealogy of Dhu’l-Qarnayn, which we have previously cited, adds the following: He was a crowned Tubba’ who, upon attaining imperial power, initially displayed arrogance but later humbled himself before God; he joined Al-Khidr in Jerusalem and journeyed with him to the uttermost West and East of the earth. All things were granted unto him, as God Himself attests, and he erected the barrier that separates Gog and Magog. He died in Iraq.
As for Alexander, he is a Greek, well known by the name of Alexander the Macedonian. When questioned about Dhu'l-Qarnayn, Ibn ’Abbas replied: “He is a Himyarite named al‑Ṣaʿb ibn Dhū Murāthid, to whom God granted the earth as a dominion and whom He showered with every blessing. He reached the two ‘horns’ of the sun—the extremities of the earth—and constructed the barrier between Gog and Magog.”
“And what of Alexander?” he was asked. “He,” he replied, “was a pious man from the land of Rūm [the Byzantine realm]—a man of great skill who erected a lighthouse in Africa on the seashore, conquered the city of Rome, and reached the Western Sea, where he established numerous monuments, palaces, and cities.”
Ka’b al-Ahbar was likewise questioned regarding Dhu’l-Qarnayn. “In the view of our scholars and ancestors,” he stated, “he was a Himyarite named al‑Ṣaʿb ibn Dhū Murāthid; whereas Alexander was a Greek of the lineage of Esau, son of Isaac, son of Abraham. The people from whom Alexander sprang followed the religion of the Messiah, son of Mary; from this very people also emerged Galen and Aristotle.”
The following account is provided by al-Hamadani in his Book of Genealogies: Kahlan ibn Sabaʾ begot Zayd; Zayd begot ʿArībah, Mālik, Ghālib, and ʿAmīkarib. (According to al‑Haytham, ʿAmīkarib ibn Sabaʾ was the brother of Ḥimyar and Kahlan.) ʿAmīkarib begot Abū Mālik Fadrah and Mahallil—these being the two sons of ʿAmīkarib. Ghālib begot Junādah ibn Ghālib, who reigned after Mahallil ibn ʿAmīkarib ibn Sabaʾ. ʿArībah begot ʿAmr; and ʿAmr begot Zayd and al‑Ḥamīsāʾ—surnamed Abū al‑Ṣaʿb—who is none other than Dhu’l‑Qarnayn the Ancient, the Traveler, and the Builder—concerning whom al Na’man ibn Bashir said:
To anyone who might boast before us of belonging to a tribe of generous men,
We would reply: Dhu’l-Qarnayn and Hatim are of our own kin.
Al-Harith speaks of him when he says:
Name for us someone from among your ranks, that we may know
If he bore the title of king in the Days of Ignorance--
Like the two Tubba’s and Dhu’l-Qarnayn; for regarding these, the fact is acknowledged
By people of sound judgment. And it is that which is most true that must be accepted.
It is also to him that these verses by Ibn Abi Dib al-Khuza’i allude:
From among us emerged the one who journeyed to the two ends of the world
And traversed every land, from north to south;
He touched the very horns of the sun, in the East and in the West,
And, upon the ruins of Gog, he built and established a dominion;
That man is Dhu’l-Qarnayn; and Himyar boasts
That one of its kings commanded an army impossible to contain or to count.
According to Al-Hamadani, the scholars of Hamadan identify Dhu’l-Qarnayn as al‑Ṣaʿb ibn Malik ibn Al-Harith al-A’la ibn Rabi’ah ibn Al-Gubar ibn Malik; and regarding Dhu’l-Qarnayn, there exist numerous legends. Imam Fakhr al-Din al-Razi, in his commentary on the Noble Qur’an, among other arguments he levels against those who claim that Alexander is one and the same as Dhu’l-Qarnayn, states: Alexander had Aristotle as his teacher; he conformed to his precepts and abstained from whatever Aristotle forbade him, and Aristotle was renowned for his severity. As for Dhu’l-Qarnayn, he was a prophet. How could anyone possibly confuse a prophet with a pagan of that ilk?
Al-Jahiz, in his Book of Animals, states that Dhu’l-Qarnayn’s mother was a mortal and his father an angel; it was for this very reason that Umar ibn al-Khattab—upon hearing one man call out to another, saying, “O Dhu’l-Qarnayn!”, exclaimed: “Do you lack the names of prophets, that you must invoke the angels?” Al-Mukhtar ibn Abi Ubayd relates that Ali, whenever he spoke of Dhu’l-Qarnayn, invariably referred to him as “that hairless angel.” And God knows best.
Abu Muhammad ’Abd al-Malik ibn Hisham, in his work The Book of Crowns (which treats of the history of kings of bygone eras), having recounted the genealogy of Dhu’l-Qarnayn, which we have previously cited, adds the following: He was a crowned Tubba’ who, upon attaining imperial power, initially displayed arrogance but later humbled himself before God; he joined Al-Khidr in Jerusalem and journeyed with him to the uttermost West and East of the earth. All things were granted unto him, as God Himself attests, and he erected the barrier that separates Gog and Magog. He died in Iraq.
As for Alexander, he is a Greek, well known by the name of Alexander the Macedonian. When questioned about Dhu'l-Qarnayn, Ibn ’Abbas replied: “He is a Himyarite named al‑Ṣaʿb ibn Dhū Murāthid, to whom God granted the earth as a dominion and whom He showered with every blessing. He reached the two ‘horns’ of the sun—the extremities of the earth—and constructed the barrier between Gog and Magog.”
“And what of Alexander?” he was asked. “He,” he replied, “was a pious man from the land of Rūm [the Byzantine realm]—a man of great skill who erected a lighthouse in Africa on the seashore, conquered the city of Rome, and reached the Western Sea, where he established numerous monuments, palaces, and cities.”
Ka’b al-Ahbar was likewise questioned regarding Dhu’l-Qarnayn. “In the view of our scholars and ancestors,” he stated, “he was a Himyarite named al‑Ṣaʿb ibn Dhū Murāthid; whereas Alexander was a Greek of the lineage of Esau, son of Isaac, son of Abraham. The people from whom Alexander sprang followed the religion of the Messiah, son of Mary; from this very people also emerged Galen and Aristotle.”
The following account is provided by al-Hamadani in his Book of Genealogies: Kahlan ibn Sabaʾ begot Zayd; Zayd begot ʿArībah, Mālik, Ghālib, and ʿAmīkarib. (According to al‑Haytham, ʿAmīkarib ibn Sabaʾ was the brother of Ḥimyar and Kahlan.) ʿAmīkarib begot Abū Mālik Fadrah and Mahallil—these being the two sons of ʿAmīkarib. Ghālib begot Junādah ibn Ghālib, who reigned after Mahallil ibn ʿAmīkarib ibn Sabaʾ. ʿArībah begot ʿAmr; and ʿAmr begot Zayd and al‑Ḥamīsāʾ—surnamed Abū al‑Ṣaʿb—who is none other than Dhu’l‑Qarnayn the Ancient, the Traveler, and the Builder—concerning whom al Na’man ibn Bashir said:
To anyone who might boast before us of belonging to a tribe of generous men,
We would reply: Dhu’l-Qarnayn and Hatim are of our own kin.
Al-Harith speaks of him when he says:
Name for us someone from among your ranks, that we may know
If he bore the title of king in the Days of Ignorance--
Like the two Tubba’s and Dhu’l-Qarnayn; for regarding these, the fact is acknowledged
By people of sound judgment. And it is that which is most true that must be accepted.
It is also to him that these verses by Ibn Abi Dib al-Khuza’i allude:
From among us emerged the one who journeyed to the two ends of the world
And traversed every land, from north to south;
He touched the very horns of the sun, in the East and in the West,
And, upon the ruins of Gog, he built and established a dominion;
That man is Dhu’l-Qarnayn; and Himyar boasts
That one of its kings commanded an army impossible to contain or to count.
According to Al-Hamadani, the scholars of Hamadan identify Dhu’l-Qarnayn as al‑Ṣaʿb ibn Malik ibn Al-Harith al-A’la ibn Rabi’ah ibn Al-Gubar ibn Malik; and regarding Dhu’l-Qarnayn, there exist numerous legends. Imam Fakhr al-Din al-Razi, in his commentary on the Noble Qur’an, among other arguments he levels against those who claim that Alexander is one and the same as Dhu’l-Qarnayn, states: Alexander had Aristotle as his teacher; he conformed to his precepts and abstained from whatever Aristotle forbade him, and Aristotle was renowned for his severity. As for Dhu’l-Qarnayn, he was a prophet. How could anyone possibly confuse a prophet with a pagan of that ilk?
Al-Jahiz, in his Book of Animals, states that Dhu’l-Qarnayn’s mother was a mortal and his father an angel; it was for this very reason that Umar ibn al-Khattab—upon hearing one man call out to another, saying, “O Dhu’l-Qarnayn!”, exclaimed: “Do you lack the names of prophets, that you must invoke the angels?” Al-Mukhtar ibn Abi Ubayd relates that Ali, whenever he spoke of Dhu’l-Qarnayn, invariably referred to him as “that hairless angel.” And God knows best.
CHAPTER IX.
ON THE LIGHTHOUSE OF ALEXANDRIA.
As for the Lighthouse of Alexandria, says al-Masʿūdī, most of those Egyptians and Alexandrians who concern themselves with the history of their country claim that it was built by Alexander, son of Philip the Macedonian; according to others, it was Queen Dalūkah who erected it to keep watch for enemies threatening Egypt. There are some, however, who surmise it to be the work of the sixth Pharaoh of Egypt; others, finally, maintain that the founder of Rome was also the founder of Alexandria and the builder of the Lighthouse and the Pyramids of Egypt. For my part, I am inclined to attribute Alexandria to Alexander, for he is universally renowned for his conquests of almost every region of the earth, and, thanks to him, the city of Alexandria has become famous. Nevertheless, all the writers of whom we speak have recounted numerous stories regarding Alexandria to demonstrate the veracity of their claims. Yet no enemy threatened Alexander from the sea, nor did he fear any king who might come to attack him in his own land or defeat him within his Empire. It was he, however, who established this lighthouse as a watchtower. Whoever built it, be he who he may, placed it upon a pedestal of glass shaped like a crab; it was situated in the open sea, at the very tip of the promontory jutting out into the waters. At the summit were placed statues made of copper and other materials, among them, a statue that pointed its right index finger toward the sun, wherever in the sky the sun might be; if the sun rose in the firmament, the statue’s finger extended in its direction, and if it descended toward the horizon, the statue's hand likewise lowered, following it in its course. Another statue stood with its hand outstretched toward the sea; if any enemy advanced from that direction, even during the night, if he threatened the city or landed and drew near enough to see with his own eyes, this statue would let out a terrifying cry that could be heard two or three miles away; and thus the city's inhabitants knew that the enemy was threatening them and could see him for themselves. A third statue, whenever an hour of the day or night had just elapsed, would let out a cry distinct from the one it had uttered at the close of the previous hour, and this cry was pleasant to hear.
During the reign of Al-Walid ibn Abd al-Malik ibn Marwan, a king of the land of Rūm dispatched one of his personal retainers, a man endowed with both wisdom and cunning. Full of confidence, this man traveled to a certain frontier city; there, furnished with lavish gifts and accompanied by an escort, he made his way to Al-Walid and claimed to be one of the king’s close confidants. He explained that the king, in a fit of anger, had sought to have him killed; deeply distressed by this unprovoked attempt on his life, he now wished to embrace Islam. He thereupon converted to Islam at the hands of Al-Walid and succeeded in winning his favor by revealing the existence of buried treasures, treasures he subsequently unearthed for him in Damascus and other cities throughout Syria, guided by certain books in his possession that contained descriptions of their locations. Once he had secured these treasures and precious gems, Al-Walid became consumed by greed, and his appetite for wealth only grew. One day, his retainer said to him: “O Commander of the Faithful, yonder lie riches, precious gems, and treasures buried by the kings of old.” Al-Walid pressed him for details. “Beneath the Lighthouse of Alexandria,” the retainer replied, “lie the treasures of the kings of the earth. For Alexander gathered together the wealth and precious gems of Shaddād ibn ’Ād and the kings of Egypt; to house them, he constructed a subterranean complex, a vaulted chamber featuring domes, cellars, and corridors, wherein he deposited these treasures of gold, silver, and gems. Above this structure, he then erected the lighthouse itself. It stands a thousand cubits high and is surmounted by a great mirror, around which sit a company of watchmen. And as soon as they spot an enemy, thanks to the light cast by this mirror, they alert those in their vicinity with shouts and raise signals visible to those further afield. Thus, the inhabitants are warned, the land is put on its guard, and the enemy finds its path blocked.” Al-Walid therefore dispatched his servant, accompanied by an army as well as trusted confidants and members of his inner circle. The upper half of the lighthouse was demolished, and the mirror ceased to function effectively. Upon witnessing this, the inhabitants rose in revolt, realizing that some trickery or ruse lay behind the affair. Upon receiving this news, and knowing full well that he had deceived al-Walid, yet seeing that his stratagem had succeeded, the servant fled under cover of night in a small boat he had prepared for just this purpose. The protective power of the lighthouse was thus destroyed, and the monument has remained in this state to this very day, that is to say, until the year 332.
The base of the Lighthouse of Alexandria is now submerged beneath the sea; from it, fragments of all manner of precious stones are retrieved and fashioned into settings for rings. It is claimed that these fragments originate from the drinking vessels Alexander had commissioned for himself, vessels which, after his death, were shattered by his mother and cast by her into this very spot. Others maintain that Alexander himself had gathered all these stones and cast them by the bushel into the sea surrounding the lighthouse, in order to safeguard the approaches to the structure against the rapacity of men, for it is the very nature of gemstones to be coveted. It is said that the lighthouse was fitted with a mirror at its summit solely because the kings of the land of Rūm were destined, following Alexander’s death, to wage war against the kings of Egypt and Alexandria; for this reason, the reigning monarch of Alexandria installed this mirror, which enabled him to detect any enemy approaching from the sea. Thus, it was possible to sally forth to intercept anyone seeking to enter the city, unless, of course, they were recognized as inhabitants, a fact that could not otherwise be ascertained immediately due to the sheer multitude of houses, squares, and streets that comprised the metropolis. When the Maghrebis, during the Caliphate of al-Muqtadir, arrived with the army of the Master of the West (al-Mu‘izz li-Din Allah), they all rode on horseback toward the lighthouse; however, they lost their way within the city and stumbled upon a path leading down to a well that descended toward the “glass crab.” There, fissures opened out into the sea; the horses plunged into them, a great number vanished, and they were never heard from again. They had fallen, so the tale goes, onto a pedestal where their chests were crushed upon impact. At that time, the lighthouse housed a small oratory garrisoned by Egyptian volunteers and others.
In the year 777, the summit of the lighthouse was toppled by an earthquake. The lighthouse was, it is said, constructed of juxtaposed stones held together by means of lead, the whole structure resting upon a glass vault situated atop the back of a crab. This lighthouse comprised three hundred superimposed chambers, and beasts of burden would ascend with their loads to every dwelling within the tower’s interior; each of these dwellings featured a window overlooking the sea. On the eastern face of the lighthouse appeared an inscription, since translated into Arabic, which reads as follows: “She who built this belvedere is Qaribah, daughter of Marinūs the Greek, for the purpose of observing the stars.”
Ibn Waṣīf Shāh, after recalling the story of Miṣraīm ibn Baīṣar ibn Ham ibn Noah, adds: They built on the sea cities, among others Raqūdah, location of the future Alexandria, and they placed in the middle a dome placed on pillars of golden copper; the dome was also golden. Above the dome was raised a tower surmounted by a mirror formed of various substances and whose diameter was five spans. The height of the dome was one hundred cubits. If any of the peoples of the vicinity wanted to attack and destroy them, or advanced towards the sea, the rays of this mirror were directed at the arrivals and burned them. The mirror preserved this virtue until it was overthrown and destroyed by the sea. Alexander, it is said, only rebuilt a lighthouse similar to the first, on which he also placed a mirror, where one could see enemies from the country of Rūm. But some king of Rūm managed, by trickery, to put an end to the protective virtue of this mirror which was made of glass prepared with art.
Al- Masʿūdī, in his Book of Admonition and of Illustrious Men, recounts that when Al-Mutawakkil’s vizier, Ubayd Allah ibn Yahya ibn Khaqan, was exiled by Al-Musta‘in to Barkat in the year 248, he traveled to Alexandria. There, he observed the summit of the lighthouse still illuminated by the sun’s rays, even though the sun had already set. Consequently, he became convinced that he ought not to break his fast until the sun had set for every region of the earth. He dispatched one of his attendants to the top of the lighthouse, instructing him to carry a stone; the attendant was ordered to watch intently the spot where the sun was setting and to cast the stone down the very moment the celestial body vanished from sight. The man carried out the order, and the stone struck the ground just as the final evening prayer was concluding. The vizier therefore established the time for breaking his fast as occurring after the final evening prayer. Subsequently, whenever he was required to fast, he adhered to the practice he had established in Alexandria; even after returning to his homeland, the memory of what he had witnessed remained vivid in his mind, and he continued to fast until after the final evening prayer, a rule he had made for himself, regarding the two timings as equivalent. This illustrates the rudimentary state of legal scholarship at the time, as well as the prevailing uncertainty regarding the sun’s trajectory from East to West. Aristotle, in his Metaphysics, notes that situated toward the summer sunrise lies a towering mountain; among the various peculiarities he cites regarding this peak is the fact that, from its vantage point, the sun does not set until three hours into the night and rises three hours before daybreak.
The Lighthouse of Alexandria is one of those ingenious and marvelous structures erected by the Greek Ptolemaic dynasty following the death of King Alexander, son of Philip, at a time when they were engaged in war, both on land and at sea, against the kings of Rome. These kings built the lighthouse, placing at its summit an enormous mirror, crafted from a variety of select stones, to keep watch over ships approaching the shore from the sea, thereby anticipating their landing. They could observe all of this in the mirror, and the inhabitants were alerted before the enemy’s arrival. The current height of the lighthouse is approximately 230 cubits, though in earlier times it reached nearly 400 cubits; its height has diminished considerably, as the passage of time, earthquakes, and rains have caused it to crumble in part, for it rains abundantly in Alexandria, unlike in Fustat, where, due to the greater elevation, rain falls only rarely. The lighthouse was constructed in three distinct sections: nearly half of the structure, or at least more than a third, is square in shape and built of white stone; this section spans a height of nearly 110 cubits. This square section is surmounted by an octagonal section—constructed of stone and gypsum, rising to a height of some 60 cubits, and featuring inhabited living quarters arranged all around its perimeter; finally, the very summit is circular in shape.
Ahmed ibn Tulun partially repaired it and had a dome placed atop it, which was to be reached by ascending through the interior of the lighthouse; however, the interior was smooth, constructed with great artistry and entirely devoid of steps. On the northern face, there was a Greek inscription consisting of lead characters inlaid into the stone; each letter measured one cubit in height and one span in width. The area occupied by the monument spanned approximately one hundred cubits; however, the sea waters, having undermined the foundations, caused the corner facing the sea to the west to collapse. Abu’l-Jaish Khumarawayh ibn Ahmed ibn Tulun subsequently repaired it. Today, a distance of approximately one mile separates the lighthouse from the city of Alexandria; the lighthouse is situated at the extremity of a spit of land, washed by the sea on both sides, at the entrance to the modern port of Alexandria, rather than the ancient one. The latter, in fact, lies within the confines of the ancient city, and ships no longer enter it, as it is too far removed from the inhabited districts. The port is the place where ships arriving from the sea come to dock.
The Alexandrians recount, based on the traditions of their ancestors, that between the lighthouse and the sea, there was once approximately the same distance as exists today between the city and the lighthouse; however, the sea waters encroached upon this space in a short time. It was Queen Cleopatra, the very same who excavated the canal, who, through her ingenuity, succeeded in extending it all the way to Alexandria. This canal originated at the village of Kassa, opposite al Kariūn; she excavated it as far as its entry into the city and paved its ceiling.
Ahmed Ibn Tulun, during his tenure as Governor of Alexandria, erected a wooden dome atop the lighthouse, which was later swept away by the winds. In the time of Zahir Baybars, one of the corners of the structure gave way and collapsed; Baybars had the damaged section restored in the year 673, and simultaneously converted the site of the dome into a mosque. This mosque was, in turn, destroyed during the earthquake of the year 702; during the course of the year 703, he had it rebuilt under the supervision of the Emir Rukn al-Din Baybars al-Jashankir. It has remained standing from that time until our own day; and al-Derawi was truly inspired when he remarked, regarding the Lighthouse of Alexandria:
An elevated terrace guides the night-walker
With its light, as the nocturnal darkness falls.
There, amidst my friends, I wore a mantle of unalloyed delight--
A mantle adorned with the memory of my companions.
From its heights, a dome cast its shadow over me;
And from that vantage, I beheld my friends like stars.
It seemed to me that, far beneath, the sea resembled a cloud,
And that I had pitched my tent in the very midst of the sky.
Ibn Qolaqes composed the following verses:
The edifice surpasses the Twins in height,
Which thus appear to bear an eagle’s nest upon their very summit.
Its foundations are anchored deep within the earth, while the body of the building ascends;
Within its grasp lies the conduit between the whales and the light.
There, I gave free rein to my poetry; and it set its steeds
Galloping across a hippodrome of exquisite verse.
The Vizier Abu ’Abd Allah Mohammed ibn al-Hasan ibn ’Abd Rabbih said:
To God belongs the pearl that is the Lighthouse of Alexandria—how many
Gazing eyes are lifted up toward it?
It holds its head high, and its very spine ascends
As if rapt in ecstasy before the horizon that enfolds it.
To swift-sailing vessels, the sight of it
Is like sleep descending upon eyelids long accustomed to sleeplessness.
According to ’Umar ibn Abi ’Umar al-Kindi, in his Wonders of Egypt, scholars recount that the lighthouse remained situated in the midst of Alexandria until the sea submerged its surroundings, whereupon it came to stand amidst the waters. Do you not clearly observe that its structure and foundations remain within the sea to this very day?
According to ’Abd Allah ibn ’Amr, there were four wonders in the world: the first being the mirror suspended atop the Lighthouse of Alexandria, a device in which people seated at its base could discern those approaching from Constantinople, despite being separated from them by the entire expanse of the sea. He then proceeds to describe the three other wonders.
During the reign of Al-Walid ibn Abd al-Malik ibn Marwan, a king of the land of Rūm dispatched one of his personal retainers, a man endowed with both wisdom and cunning. Full of confidence, this man traveled to a certain frontier city; there, furnished with lavish gifts and accompanied by an escort, he made his way to Al-Walid and claimed to be one of the king’s close confidants. He explained that the king, in a fit of anger, had sought to have him killed; deeply distressed by this unprovoked attempt on his life, he now wished to embrace Islam. He thereupon converted to Islam at the hands of Al-Walid and succeeded in winning his favor by revealing the existence of buried treasures, treasures he subsequently unearthed for him in Damascus and other cities throughout Syria, guided by certain books in his possession that contained descriptions of their locations. Once he had secured these treasures and precious gems, Al-Walid became consumed by greed, and his appetite for wealth only grew. One day, his retainer said to him: “O Commander of the Faithful, yonder lie riches, precious gems, and treasures buried by the kings of old.” Al-Walid pressed him for details. “Beneath the Lighthouse of Alexandria,” the retainer replied, “lie the treasures of the kings of the earth. For Alexander gathered together the wealth and precious gems of Shaddād ibn ’Ād and the kings of Egypt; to house them, he constructed a subterranean complex, a vaulted chamber featuring domes, cellars, and corridors, wherein he deposited these treasures of gold, silver, and gems. Above this structure, he then erected the lighthouse itself. It stands a thousand cubits high and is surmounted by a great mirror, around which sit a company of watchmen. And as soon as they spot an enemy, thanks to the light cast by this mirror, they alert those in their vicinity with shouts and raise signals visible to those further afield. Thus, the inhabitants are warned, the land is put on its guard, and the enemy finds its path blocked.” Al-Walid therefore dispatched his servant, accompanied by an army as well as trusted confidants and members of his inner circle. The upper half of the lighthouse was demolished, and the mirror ceased to function effectively. Upon witnessing this, the inhabitants rose in revolt, realizing that some trickery or ruse lay behind the affair. Upon receiving this news, and knowing full well that he had deceived al-Walid, yet seeing that his stratagem had succeeded, the servant fled under cover of night in a small boat he had prepared for just this purpose. The protective power of the lighthouse was thus destroyed, and the monument has remained in this state to this very day, that is to say, until the year 332.
The base of the Lighthouse of Alexandria is now submerged beneath the sea; from it, fragments of all manner of precious stones are retrieved and fashioned into settings for rings. It is claimed that these fragments originate from the drinking vessels Alexander had commissioned for himself, vessels which, after his death, were shattered by his mother and cast by her into this very spot. Others maintain that Alexander himself had gathered all these stones and cast them by the bushel into the sea surrounding the lighthouse, in order to safeguard the approaches to the structure against the rapacity of men, for it is the very nature of gemstones to be coveted. It is said that the lighthouse was fitted with a mirror at its summit solely because the kings of the land of Rūm were destined, following Alexander’s death, to wage war against the kings of Egypt and Alexandria; for this reason, the reigning monarch of Alexandria installed this mirror, which enabled him to detect any enemy approaching from the sea. Thus, it was possible to sally forth to intercept anyone seeking to enter the city, unless, of course, they were recognized as inhabitants, a fact that could not otherwise be ascertained immediately due to the sheer multitude of houses, squares, and streets that comprised the metropolis. When the Maghrebis, during the Caliphate of al-Muqtadir, arrived with the army of the Master of the West (al-Mu‘izz li-Din Allah), they all rode on horseback toward the lighthouse; however, they lost their way within the city and stumbled upon a path leading down to a well that descended toward the “glass crab.” There, fissures opened out into the sea; the horses plunged into them, a great number vanished, and they were never heard from again. They had fallen, so the tale goes, onto a pedestal where their chests were crushed upon impact. At that time, the lighthouse housed a small oratory garrisoned by Egyptian volunteers and others.
In the year 777, the summit of the lighthouse was toppled by an earthquake. The lighthouse was, it is said, constructed of juxtaposed stones held together by means of lead, the whole structure resting upon a glass vault situated atop the back of a crab. This lighthouse comprised three hundred superimposed chambers, and beasts of burden would ascend with their loads to every dwelling within the tower’s interior; each of these dwellings featured a window overlooking the sea. On the eastern face of the lighthouse appeared an inscription, since translated into Arabic, which reads as follows: “She who built this belvedere is Qaribah, daughter of Marinūs the Greek, for the purpose of observing the stars.”
Ibn Waṣīf Shāh, after recalling the story of Miṣraīm ibn Baīṣar ibn Ham ibn Noah, adds: They built on the sea cities, among others Raqūdah, location of the future Alexandria, and they placed in the middle a dome placed on pillars of golden copper; the dome was also golden. Above the dome was raised a tower surmounted by a mirror formed of various substances and whose diameter was five spans. The height of the dome was one hundred cubits. If any of the peoples of the vicinity wanted to attack and destroy them, or advanced towards the sea, the rays of this mirror were directed at the arrivals and burned them. The mirror preserved this virtue until it was overthrown and destroyed by the sea. Alexander, it is said, only rebuilt a lighthouse similar to the first, on which he also placed a mirror, where one could see enemies from the country of Rūm. But some king of Rūm managed, by trickery, to put an end to the protective virtue of this mirror which was made of glass prepared with art.
Al- Masʿūdī, in his Book of Admonition and of Illustrious Men, recounts that when Al-Mutawakkil’s vizier, Ubayd Allah ibn Yahya ibn Khaqan, was exiled by Al-Musta‘in to Barkat in the year 248, he traveled to Alexandria. There, he observed the summit of the lighthouse still illuminated by the sun’s rays, even though the sun had already set. Consequently, he became convinced that he ought not to break his fast until the sun had set for every region of the earth. He dispatched one of his attendants to the top of the lighthouse, instructing him to carry a stone; the attendant was ordered to watch intently the spot where the sun was setting and to cast the stone down the very moment the celestial body vanished from sight. The man carried out the order, and the stone struck the ground just as the final evening prayer was concluding. The vizier therefore established the time for breaking his fast as occurring after the final evening prayer. Subsequently, whenever he was required to fast, he adhered to the practice he had established in Alexandria; even after returning to his homeland, the memory of what he had witnessed remained vivid in his mind, and he continued to fast until after the final evening prayer, a rule he had made for himself, regarding the two timings as equivalent. This illustrates the rudimentary state of legal scholarship at the time, as well as the prevailing uncertainty regarding the sun’s trajectory from East to West. Aristotle, in his Metaphysics, notes that situated toward the summer sunrise lies a towering mountain; among the various peculiarities he cites regarding this peak is the fact that, from its vantage point, the sun does not set until three hours into the night and rises three hours before daybreak.
The Lighthouse of Alexandria is one of those ingenious and marvelous structures erected by the Greek Ptolemaic dynasty following the death of King Alexander, son of Philip, at a time when they were engaged in war, both on land and at sea, against the kings of Rome. These kings built the lighthouse, placing at its summit an enormous mirror, crafted from a variety of select stones, to keep watch over ships approaching the shore from the sea, thereby anticipating their landing. They could observe all of this in the mirror, and the inhabitants were alerted before the enemy’s arrival. The current height of the lighthouse is approximately 230 cubits, though in earlier times it reached nearly 400 cubits; its height has diminished considerably, as the passage of time, earthquakes, and rains have caused it to crumble in part, for it rains abundantly in Alexandria, unlike in Fustat, where, due to the greater elevation, rain falls only rarely. The lighthouse was constructed in three distinct sections: nearly half of the structure, or at least more than a third, is square in shape and built of white stone; this section spans a height of nearly 110 cubits. This square section is surmounted by an octagonal section—constructed of stone and gypsum, rising to a height of some 60 cubits, and featuring inhabited living quarters arranged all around its perimeter; finally, the very summit is circular in shape.
Ahmed ibn Tulun partially repaired it and had a dome placed atop it, which was to be reached by ascending through the interior of the lighthouse; however, the interior was smooth, constructed with great artistry and entirely devoid of steps. On the northern face, there was a Greek inscription consisting of lead characters inlaid into the stone; each letter measured one cubit in height and one span in width. The area occupied by the monument spanned approximately one hundred cubits; however, the sea waters, having undermined the foundations, caused the corner facing the sea to the west to collapse. Abu’l-Jaish Khumarawayh ibn Ahmed ibn Tulun subsequently repaired it. Today, a distance of approximately one mile separates the lighthouse from the city of Alexandria; the lighthouse is situated at the extremity of a spit of land, washed by the sea on both sides, at the entrance to the modern port of Alexandria, rather than the ancient one. The latter, in fact, lies within the confines of the ancient city, and ships no longer enter it, as it is too far removed from the inhabited districts. The port is the place where ships arriving from the sea come to dock.
The Alexandrians recount, based on the traditions of their ancestors, that between the lighthouse and the sea, there was once approximately the same distance as exists today between the city and the lighthouse; however, the sea waters encroached upon this space in a short time. It was Queen Cleopatra, the very same who excavated the canal, who, through her ingenuity, succeeded in extending it all the way to Alexandria. This canal originated at the village of Kassa, opposite al Kariūn; she excavated it as far as its entry into the city and paved its ceiling.
Ahmed Ibn Tulun, during his tenure as Governor of Alexandria, erected a wooden dome atop the lighthouse, which was later swept away by the winds. In the time of Zahir Baybars, one of the corners of the structure gave way and collapsed; Baybars had the damaged section restored in the year 673, and simultaneously converted the site of the dome into a mosque. This mosque was, in turn, destroyed during the earthquake of the year 702; during the course of the year 703, he had it rebuilt under the supervision of the Emir Rukn al-Din Baybars al-Jashankir. It has remained standing from that time until our own day; and al-Derawi was truly inspired when he remarked, regarding the Lighthouse of Alexandria:
An elevated terrace guides the night-walker
With its light, as the nocturnal darkness falls.
There, amidst my friends, I wore a mantle of unalloyed delight--
A mantle adorned with the memory of my companions.
From its heights, a dome cast its shadow over me;
And from that vantage, I beheld my friends like stars.
It seemed to me that, far beneath, the sea resembled a cloud,
And that I had pitched my tent in the very midst of the sky.
Ibn Qolaqes composed the following verses:
The edifice surpasses the Twins in height,
Which thus appear to bear an eagle’s nest upon their very summit.
Its foundations are anchored deep within the earth, while the body of the building ascends;
Within its grasp lies the conduit between the whales and the light.
There, I gave free rein to my poetry; and it set its steeds
Galloping across a hippodrome of exquisite verse.
The Vizier Abu ’Abd Allah Mohammed ibn al-Hasan ibn ’Abd Rabbih said:
To God belongs the pearl that is the Lighthouse of Alexandria—how many
Gazing eyes are lifted up toward it?
It holds its head high, and its very spine ascends
As if rapt in ecstasy before the horizon that enfolds it.
To swift-sailing vessels, the sight of it
Is like sleep descending upon eyelids long accustomed to sleeplessness.
According to ’Umar ibn Abi ’Umar al-Kindi, in his Wonders of Egypt, scholars recount that the lighthouse remained situated in the midst of Alexandria until the sea submerged its surroundings, whereupon it came to stand amidst the waters. Do you not clearly observe that its structure and foundations remain within the sea to this very day?
According to ’Abd Allah ibn ’Amr, there were four wonders in the world: the first being the mirror suspended atop the Lighthouse of Alexandria, a device in which people seated at its base could discern those approaching from Constantinople, despite being separated from them by the entire expanse of the sea. He then proceeds to describe the three other wonders.
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Source: U. Bouriant, Description topographique et historique de l'Égypte, vol. 2 (E. Leroux, 1900).
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