* * * * *
"Blessed be God!" exclaims an Arabian historian; "in His hands alone is the
destiny of princes. He overthrows the mighty, and humbles the haughty to
the dust; and he raises up the persecuted and afflicted from the very
depths of despair!"
The illustrious house of Omeya had swayed the scepter at Damascus for
nearly a century, when a rebellion broke out, headed by Aboul Abbas Safah,
who aspired to the throne of the caliphs, as being descended from Abbas,
the uncle of the prophet. The rebellion was successful. Marvau, the last
caliph of the house of Omeya, was defeated and slain. A general
proscription of the Ommiades took place. Many of them fell in battle; many
were treacherously slain, in places where they had taken refuge; above
seventy most noble and distinguished were murdered at a banquet to which
they had been invited, and their dead bodies covered with cloths, and made
to serve as tables for the horrible festivity. Others were driven forth,
forlorn and desolate wanderers in various parts of the earth, and pursued
with relentless hatred; for it was the determination of the usurper that
not one of the persecuted family should escape. Aboul Abbas took possession
of three stately palaces and delicious gardens, and founded the powerful
dynasty of the Abbassides, which, for several centuries, maintained
dominion in the east.
"Blessed be God!" again exclaims the Arabian historian; "it was written in
His eternal decrees that, notwithstanding the fury of the Abbassides, the
noble stock of Omeya should not be destroyed. One fruitful branch remained
to nourish with glory and greatness in another land."
When the sanguinary proscription of the Ommiades took place, two young
princes of that line, brothers, by the names of Solyman and Abderahman were
spared for a time. Their personal graces, noble demeanor, and winning
affability, had made them many friends, while their extreme youth rendered
them objects of but little dread to the usurper. Their safety, however, was
but transient. In a little while the suspicions of Aboul Abbas were
aroused. The unfortunate Solyman fell beneath the scimiter of the
executioner. His brother Abderahman was warned of his danger in time.
Several of his friends hastened to him, bringing him jewels, a disguise,
and a fleet horse. "The emissaries of the caliph," said they, "are in
search of thee; thy brother lies weltering in his blood; fly to the desert!
There is no safety for thee in the habitations of man!"
Abderahman took the jewels, clad himself in the disguise, and mounting his
steed, fled for his life. As he passed, a lonely fugitive, by the palaces
of his ancestors, in which his family had long held sway, their very walls
seemed disposed to betray him, as they echoed the swift clattering of his
steed.
Abandoning his native country, Syria, where he was liable at each moment to
be recognized and taken, he took refuge among the Bedouin Arabs, a
half-savage race of shepherds. His youth, his inborn majesty and grace, and
the sweetness and affability that shone forth in his azure eyes, won the
hearts of these wandering men. He was but twenty years of age, and had been
reared in the soft luxury of a palace; but he was tall and vigorous, and in
a little while hardened himself so completely to the rustic life of the
fields that it seemed as though he had passed all his days in the rude
simplicity of a shepherd's cabin.
His enemies, however, were upon his traces, and gave him but little rest.
By day he scoured the plain with the Bedouins, hearing in every blast the
sound of pursuit, and fancying in every distant cloud of dust a troop of
the caliph's horsemen. That night was passed in broken sleep and frequent
watchings, and at the earliest dawn he was the first to put the bridle to
his steed.
Wearied by these perpetual alarms, he bade farewell to his friendly
Bedouins, and leaving Egypt behind, sought a safer refuge in Western
Africa. The province of Barea was at that time governed by Aben Habib, who
had risen to rank and fortune under the fostering favor of the Ommiades.
"Surely," thought the unhappy prince, "I shall receive kindness and
protection from this man; he will rejoice to show his gratitude for the
benefits showered upon him by my kindred."
Abderahman was young, and as yet knew little of mankind. None are so
hostile to the victim of power as those whom he has befriended. They fear
being suspected of gratitude by his persecutors, and involved in his
misfortunes.
The unfortunate Abderahman had halted for a few days to repose himself
among a horde of Bedouins, who had received him with their characteristic
hospitality. They would gather round him in the evenings, to listen to his
conversation, regarding with wonder this gently-spoken stranger from the
more refined country of Egypt. The old men marveled to find so much
knowledge and wisdom in such early youth, and the young men, won by his
frank and manly carriage, entreated him to remain among them.
One night, when all were buried in sleep, they were roused by the tramp of
horsemen. The Wali Aben Habib, who, like all the governors of distant
ports, had received orders from the caliph to be on the watch for the
fugitive prince, had heard that a young man, answering the description, had
entered the province alone, from the frontiers of Egypt, on a steed worn
down by travel. He had immediately sent forth horsemen in his pursuit, with
orders to bring him to him dead or alive. The emissaries of the Wali had
traced him to his resting-place, and demanded of the Arabs whether a young
man, a stranger from Syria, did not sojourn among their tribe. The Bedouins
knew by the description that the stranger must be their guest, and feared
some evil was intended him. "Such a youth," said they, "has indeed
sojourned among us; but he has gone, with some of our young men, to a
distant valley, to hunt the lion." The emissaries inquired the way to the
place, and hastened on to surprise their expected prey.
The Bedouins repaired to Abderahman, who was still sleeping. "If thou hast
aught to fear from man in power," said they, "arise and fly; for the
horsemen of the Wali are in quest of thee! We have sent them off for a time
on a wrong errand, but they will soon return."
"Alas! whither shall I fly!" cried the unhappy prince; "my enemies hunt me
like the ostrich of the desert. They follow me like the wind, and allow me
neither safety nor repose!"
Six of the bravest youth of the tribe stepped forward. "We have steeds,"
said they, "that can outstrip the wind, and hands that can hurl the
javelin. We will accompany thee in thy flight, and will fight by thy side
while life lasts, and we have weapons to wield."
Abderahman embraced them with tears of gratitude. They mounted their
steeds, and made for the most lonely parts of the desert. By the faint
light of the stars, they passed through dreary wastes and over hills of
sand. The lion roared, and the hyena howled unheeded, for they fled from
man, more cruel and relentless, when in pursuit of blood, than the savage
beasts of the desert.
At sunrise they paused to refresh themselves beside a scanty well,
surrounded by a few palm-trees. One of the young Arabs climbed a tree, and
looked in every direction, but not a horseman was to be seen.
"We have outstripped pursuit," said the Bedouins; "whither shall we conduct
thee? Where is thy home and the land of thy people?"
"Home have I none!" replied Abderahman, mournfully, "nor family, nor
kindred! My native land is to me a land of destruction, and my people seek
my life!"
The hearts of the youthful Bedouins were touched with compassion at these
words, and they marveled that one so young and gentle should have suffered
such great sorrow and persecution.
Abderahman sat by the well and mused for a time. At length, breaking
silence, "In the midst of Mauritania," said he, "dwells the tribe of
Zeneta. My mother was of that tribe; and perhaps when her son presents
himself, a persecuted wanderer, at their door, they will not turn him from
the threshold."
"The Zenetes," replied the Bedouins, "are among the bravest and most
hospitable of the people of Africa. Never did the unfortunate seek refuge
among them in vain, nor was the stranger repulsed from their door." So they
mounted their steeds with renewed spirits, and journeyed with all speed to
Tahart, the capital of the Zenetes.
When Abderahman entered the place, followed by his six rustic Arabs, all
wayworn and travel-stained, his noble and majestic demeanor shone through
the simple garb of a Bedouin. A crowd gathered around him, as he alighted
from his weary steed. Confiding in the well known character of the tribe,
he no longer attempted concealment.
"You behold before you," said he, "one of the proscribed house of Omeya. I
am that Abderahman upon whose head a price has been set, and who has been
driven from land to land. I come to you as my kindred. My mother was of
your tribe, and she told me with her dying breath that in all time of need
I would find a home and friends among the Zenetes."
The words of Abderahman went straight to the hearts of his hearers. They
pitied his youth and his great misfortunes, while they were charmed by his
frankness, and by the manly graces of his person. The tribe was of a bold
and generous spirit, and not to be awed by the frown of power. "Evil be
upon us and upon our children," said they, "if we deceive the trust thou
hast placed in us!"
Then one of the noblest Xeques took Abderahman to his house, and treated
him as his own child; and the principal people of the tribe strove who most
should cherish him, and do him honor; endeavoring to obliterate by their
kindness the recollection of his past misfortunes.
Abderahman had resided some time among the hospitable Zenetes, when one day
two strangers, of venerable appearance, attended by a small retinue,
arrived at Tahart. They gave themselves out as merchants, and from the
simple style in which they traveled, excited no attention. In a little
while they sought out Abderahman, and, taking him apart: "Hearken," said
they, "Abderahman, of the royal line of Omeya; we are embassadors sent on
the part of the principal Moslems of Spain, to offer thee, not merely an
asylum, for that thou hast already among these brave Zenetes, but an
empire! Spain is a prey to distracting factions, and can no longer exist as
a dependency upon a throne too remote to watch over its welfare. It needs
to be independent of Asia and Africa, and to be under the government of a
good prince, who shall reside within it, and devote himself entirely to its
prosperity; a prince with sufficient title to silence all rival claims, and
bring the warring parties into unity and peace; and at the same time with
sufficient ability and virtue to insure the welfare of his dominions. For
this purpose the eyes of all the honorable leaders in Spain have been
turned to thee, as a descendant of the royal line of Omeya, and an offset
from the same stock as our holy prophet. They have heard of thy virtues,
and of thy admirable constancy under misfortunes; and invite thee to accept
the sovereignty of one of the noblest countries in the world. Thou wilt
have some difficulties to encounter from hostile men; but thou wilt have on
thy side the bravest captains that have signalized themselves in the
conquest of the unbelievers."
The embassadors ceased, and Abderahman remained for a time lost in wonder
and admiration. "God is great!" exclaimed he, at length; "there is but one
God, who is God, and Mahomet is his prophet! Illustrious embassadors, you
have put new life into my soul, for you have shown me something to live
for. In the few years that I have lived, troubles and sorrows have been
heaped upon my head, and I have become inured to hardships and alarms.
Since it is the wish of the valiant Moslems of Spain, I am willing to
become their leader and defender, and devote myself to their cause, be it
happy or disastrous."
The embassadors now cautioned him to be silent as to their errand, and to
depart secretly for Spain. "The seaboard of Africa," said they, "swarms
with your enemies, and a powerful faction in Spain would intercept you on
landing, did they know your name and rank, and the object of your coming."
But Abderahman replied: "I have been cherished in adversity by these brave
Zenetes; I have been protected and honored by them, when a price was set
upon my head, and to harbor me was great peril. How can I keep my good
fortune from my benefactors, and desert their hospitable roofs in silence?
He is unworthy of friendship, who withholds confidence from his friend."
Charmed with the generosity of his feelings, the embassadors made no
opposition to his wishes. The Zenetes proved themselves worthy of his
confidence. They hailed with joy the great change in his fortunes. The
warriors and the young men pressed forward to follow, and aid them with
horse and weapon; "for the honor of a noble house and family," said they,
"can be maintained only by lances and horsemen." In a few days he set
forth, with the embassadors, at the head of nearly a thousand horsemen
skilled in war, and exercised in the desert, and a large body of infantry,
armed with lances. The venerable Xeque, with whom he had resided, blessed
him and shed tears over him at parting, as though he had been his own
child; and when the youth passed over the threshold, the house was filled
with lamentations.
Abderahman reached Spain in safely, and landed at Almanecar, with his
little band of warlike Zenetes. Spain was at that time in a state of great
confusion. Upward of forty years had elapsed since the conquest. The civil
wars in Syria and Egypt had prevented the main government at Damascus from
exercising control over this distant and recently acquired territory. Every
Moslem commander considered the town or province committed to his charge an
absolute property; and accordingly exercised the most arbitrary extortions.
These excesses at length became insupportable, and, at a convocation of
many of the principal leaders, it was determined, as a means to end these
dissensions, to unite all the Moslem provinces of Spain under one emir, or
general governor. Yusuf el Fehri, an ancient man, of honorable lineage, was
chosen for this station. He began his reign with policy, and endeavored to
conciliate all parties; but the distribution of offices soon created
powerful enemies among the disappointed leaders. A civil war was the
consequence, and Spain was deluged with blood. The troops of both parties
burned and ravaged and laid every thing waste, to distress their
antagonists; the villages were abandoned by their inhabitants, who fled to
the cities for refuge; and flourishing towns disappeared from the face of
the earth, or remained mere heaps of rubbish and ashes. At the time of the
landing of Abderahman in Spain, the old Emir Yusuf had obtained a signal
victory. He had captured Saragossa, in which was Ameer ben Amru, his
principal enemy, together with his son and secretary. Loading his prisoners
with chains, and putting them on camels, he set out in triumph for Cordova,
considering himself secure in the absolute domination of Spain.
He had halted one day in a valley called Wadarambla, and was reposing with
his family in his pavilion, while his people and the prisoners made a
repast in the open air. In the midst of his repose, his confidential
adherent and general, the Wali Samael, galloped into the camp covered with
dust and exhausted with fatigue. He brought tidings of the arrival of
Abderahman and that the whole seaboard was flocking to his standard.
Messenger after messenger came hurrying into the camp, confirming the
fearful tidings, and adding that this descendant of the Omeyas had secretly
been invited to Spain by Amru and his followers. Yusuf waited not to
ascertain the truth of this accusation. Giving way to a transport of fury,
he ordered that Amru, his son and secretary, should be cut to pieces. His
commands were instantly executed. "And this cruelty," says the Arabian
chronicler, "lost him the favor of Allah; for from that time success
deserted his standard."
Abderahman had indeed been hailed with joy on his landing in Spain. The old
people hoped to find tranquillity under the sway of one supreme chieftain,
descended from their ancient caliphs; the young men were rejoiced to have a
youthful warrior to lead them on to victories; and the populace, charmed
with his freshness and manly beauty, his majestic yet gracious and affable
demeanor, shouted: "Long live Abderahman ben Moavia Meramamolin of Spain!"
In a few days the youthful sovereign saw himself at the head of more than
twenty thousand men, from the neighborhood of Elvira, Almeria, Malaga,
Xeres, and Sidonia. Fair Seville threw open its gates at his approach, and
celebrated his arrival with public rejoicings. He continued his march into
the country, vanquished one of the eons of Yusuf before the gates of
Cordova, and obliged him to take refuge within its walls, where he held him
in close siege. Hearing, however, of the approach of Yusuf, the father,
with a powerful army, he divided his forces, and leaving ten thousand men
to press the siege, he hastened with the other ten to meet the coming foe.
Yusuf had indeed mustered a formidable force, from the east and south of
Spain, and accompanied by his veteran general, Samael, came with confident
boasting to drive this intruder from the land. His confidence increased on
beholding the small army of Abderahman. Turning to Samael, he repeated,
with a scornful sneer, a verse from an Arabian poetess, which says:
"How hard is our lot! We come, a thirsty multitude, and lo! but this cup of
water to share among us!"
There was indeed a fearful odds. On the one side were two veteran generals,
grown gray in victory, with a mighty host of warriors, seasoned in the wars
of Spain. On the other side was a mere youth, scarce attained to manhood,
with a hasty levy of half-disciplined troops; but the youth was a prince,
flushed with hope, and aspiring after fame and empire; and surrounded by a
devoted band of warriors from Africa, whose example infused desperate zeal
into the little army.
The encounter took place at daybreak. The impetuous valor of the Zenetes
carried everything before it. The cavalry of Yusuf was broken, and driven
back upon the infantry, and before noon the whole host was put to headlong
flight. Yusuf and Samael were borne along in the torrent of the fugitives,
raging and storming, and making ineffectual efforts to rally them. They
were separated widely in the confusion of the flight, one taking refuge in
the Algarves, the other in the kingdom of Murcia. They afterward rallied,
reunited their forces, and made another desperate stand near Almunecar. The
battle was obstinate and bloody, but they were again defeated, and driven,
with a handful of followers, to take refuge in the rugged mountains
adjacent to Elvira.
The spirit of the veteran Samael gave way before these fearful reverses.
"In vain, oh Yusuf!" said he, "do we contend with the prosperous star of
this youthful conqueror: the will of Allah be done! Let us submit to our
fate, and sue for favorable terms, while we have yet the means of
capitulation."
It was a hard trial for the proud spirit of Yusuf, that had once aspired to
uncontrolled sway; but he was compelled to capitulate. Abderahman was as
generous as brave. He granted the two gray-headed generals the most
honorable conditions, and even took the veteran Samael into favor,
employing him, as a mark of confidence, to visit the eastern provinces of
Spain, and restore them to tranquillity. Yusuf, having delivered up Elvira
and Granada, and complied with other articles of his capitulation, was
permitted to retire to Murcia, and rejoin his son Muhamad. A general
amnesty to all chiefs and soldiers who should yield up their strongholds,
and lay down their arms, completed the triumph of Abderahman, and brought
all hearts into obedience.
Thus terminated this severe struggle for the domination of Spain; and thus
the illustrious family of Omeya, after having been cast down and almost
exterminated in the East, took new root, and sprang forth prosperously in
the West.
Wherever Abderahman appeared, he was received with rapturous acclamations.
As he rode through the cities, the populace rent the air with shouts of
joy; the stately palaces were crowded with spectators, eager to gain a
sight of his graceful form and beaming countenance; and when they beheld
the mingled majesty and benignity of their new monarch, and the sweetness
and gentleness of his whole conduct, they extolled him as something more
than mortal; as a beneficent genius, sent for the happiness of Spain.
In the interval of peace which now succeeded, Abderahman occupied himself
in promoting the useful and elegant arts, and in introducing into Spain the
refinements of the East. Considering the building and ornamenting of cities
as among the noblest employments of the tranquil hours of princes, he
bestowed great pains upon beautifying the city of Cordova and its environs.
He reconstructed banks and dikes, to keep the Guadalquivir from overflowing
its borders, and on the vast terraces thus formed he planted delightful
gardens. In the midst of these, he erected a lofty tower, commanding a view
of the vast and fruitful valley, enlivened by the windings of the river. In
this tower he would pass hours of meditation, gazing on the soft and varied
landscape, and inhaling the bland and balmy airs of that delightful region.
At such times, his thoughts would recur to the past, and the misfortunes of
his youth; the massacre of his family would rise to view, mingled with
tender recollections of his native country, from which he was exiled. In
these melancholy musings he would sit with his eyes fixed upon a palm-tree
which he had planted in the midst of his garden. It is said to have been
the first ever planted in Spain, and to have been the parent stock of all
the palm-trees which grace the southern provinces of the peninsula. The
heart of Abderahman yearned toward this tree; it was the offspring of his
native country, and, like him, an exile. In one of his moods of tenderness,
he composed verses upon it, which have since become famous throughout the
world. The following is a rude but literal translation:
"Beauteous Palm! thou also wert hither brought a stranger; but thy roots
have found a kindly soil, thy head is lifted to the skies, and the sweet
airs of Algarve fondle and kiss thy branches.
"Thou hast known, like me, the storms of adverse fortune. Bitter tears
wouldst thou shed, couldst thou feel my woes. Repeated griefs have
overwhelmed me. With early tears I bedewed the palms on the banks of the
Euphrates; but neither tree nor river heeded my sorrows, when driven by
cruel fate, and the ferocious Aboul Abbas, from the scenes of my childhood
and the sweet objects of my affection.
"To thee no remembrance remains of my beloved country; I, unhappy! can
never recall it without tears."
The generosity of Abderahman to his vanquished foes was destined to be
abused. The veteran Yusuf, in visiting certain of the cities which he had
surrendered, found himself surrounded by zealous partisans, ready to peril
life in his service. The love of command revived in his bosom, and he
repented the facility with which he had suffered himself to be persuaded to
submission. Flushed with new hopes of success, he caused arms to be
secretly collected, and deposited in various villages, most zealous in
their professions of devotion, and raising a considerable body of troops,
seized upon the castle of Almodovar. The rash rebellion was short-lived. At
the first appearance of an army sent by Abderahman, and commanded by
Abdelmelee, governor of Seville, the villages which had so recently
professed loyalty to Yusuf hastened to declare their attachment to the
monarch, and to give up the concealed arms. Almodovar was soon retaken, and
Yusuf, driven to the environs of Lorea, was surrounded by the cavalry of
Abdelmelee. The veteran endeavored to cut a passage through the enemy, but
after fighting with desperate fury, and with a force of arm incredible in
one of his age, he fell beneath blows from weapons of all kinds, so that
after the battle his body could scarcely be recognized, so numerous were
the wounds. His head was cut off and sent to Cordova, where it was placed
in an iron cage, over the gate of the city.
The old lion was dead, but his whelps survived. Yusuf had left three sons,
who inherited his warlike spirit, and were eager to revenge his death.
Collecting a number of the scattered adherents of their house, they
surprised and seized upon Toledo, during the absence of Temam, its Wali or
commander. In this old warrior city, built upon a rock, and almost
surrounded by the Tagus, they set up a kind of robber hold, scouring the
surrounding country, levying tribute, seizing upon horses, and compelling
the peasantry to join their standard. Every day cavalcades of horses and
mules, laden with spoil, with flocks of sheep and droves of cattle, came
pouring over the bridges on either side of the city, and thronging in at
the gates, the plunder of the surrounding country. Those of the inhabitants
who were still loyal to Abderahman dared not lift up their voices, for men
of the sword bore sway. At length one day, when the sons of Yusuf, with
their choicest troops, were out on a maraud, the watchmen on the towers
gave the alarm. A troop of scattered horsemen were spurring wildly toward
the gates. The banners of the sons of Yusuf were descried. Two of them
spurred into the city, followed by a handful of warriors, covered with
confusion, and dismay. They had been encountered and defeated by the Wali
Temam, and one of the brothers had been slain.
The gates were secured in all haste, and the walls were scarcely manned,
when Temam appeared before them with his troops, and summoned the city to
surrender. A great internal commotion ensued between the loyalists and the
insurgents; the latter, however, had weapons in their hands, and prevailed;
and for several days, trusting to the strength of their rock-built
fortress, they set the Wali at defiance. At length some of the loyal
inhabitants of Toledo, who knew all its secret and subterraneous passages,
some of which, if chroniclers may be believed, have existed since the days
of Hercules, if not of Tubal Cain, introduced Temam and a chosen band of
his warriors into the very center of the city, where they suddenly appeared
as if by magic. A panic seized upon the insurgents. Some sought safety in
submission, some in concealment, some in flight. Casim, one of the sons of
Yusuf, escaped in disguise; the youngest, unarmed, was taken, and was sent
captive to the king, accompanied by the head of his brother, who had been
slain in battle.
When Abderahman beheld the youth laden with chains, he remembered his own
sufferings in his early days, and had compassion on him; but, to prevent
him from doing further mischief, he imprisoned him in a tower of the wall
of Cordova.
In the meantime Casim, who had escaped, managed to raise another band of
warriors. Spain, in all ages a guerrilla country, prone to partisan warfare
and petty maraud, was at that time infested by bands of licentious troops,
who had sprung up in the civil contests; their only object pillage, their
only dependence the sword, and ready to flock to any new and desperate
standard, that promised the greatest license. With a ruffian force thus
levied, Casim scoured the country, took Sidonia by storm, and surprised
Seville while in a state of unsuspecting security.
Abderahman put himself at the head of his faithful Zenetes, and took the
field in person. By the rapidity of his movements, the rebels were
defeated, Sidonia and Seville speedily retaken, and Casim was made
prisoner. The generosity of Abderahman was again exhibited toward this
unfortunate son of Yusuf. He spared his life, and sent him to be confined
in a tower at Toledo.
The veteran Samael had taken no part in these insurrections, but had
attended faithfully to the affairs intrusted to him by Abderahman. The
death of his old friend and colleague, Yusuf, however, and the subsequent
disasters of his family, filled him with despondency. Fearing the
inconstancy of fortune, and the dangers incident to public employ, he
entreated the king to be permitted to retire to his house in Seguenza, and
indulge a privacy and repose suited to his advanced age. His prayer was
granted. The veteran laid by his arms, battered in a thousand conflicts;
hung his sword and lance against the wall, and, surrounded by a few
friends, gave himself up apparently to the sweets of quiet and unambitious
leisure.
Who can count, however, upon the tranquil content of a heart nurtured amid
the storms of war and ambition! Under the ashes of this outward humility
were glowing the coals of faction. In his seemingly philosophical
retirement, Samael was concerting with his friends new treason against
Abderahman. His plot was discovered; his house was suddenly surrounded by
troops; and he was conveyed to a tower at Toledo, where, in the course of a
few months, he died in captivity.
The magnanimity of Abderahman was again put to the proof, by a new
insurrection at Toledo. Hixem ben Adra, a relation of Yusuf, seized upon
the Alcazar, or citadel, slew several of the royal adherents of the king,
liberated Casim from his tower, and, summoning all the banditti of the
country, soon mustered a force of ten thousand men. Abderahman was quickly
before the walls of Toledo, with the troops of Cordova and his devoted
Zenetes. The rebels were brought to terms, and surrendered the city on
promise of general pardon, which was extended even to Hixem and Casim. When
the chieftains saw Hixem and his principal confederates in the power of
Abderahman, they advised him to put them all to death. "A promise given to
traitors and rebels," said they, "is not binding, when it is to the
interest of the state that it should be broken."
"No!" replied Abderahman, "if the safety of my throne were at stake, I
would not break my word." So saying, he confirmed the amnesty, and granted
Hixem ben Adra a worthless life, to be employed in further treason.
Scarcely had Abderahman returned from this expedition, when a powerful
army, sent by the caliph, landed from Africa on the coast of the Algarves.
The commander, Aly ben Mogueth, Emir of Cairvan, elevated a rich banner
which he had received from the hands of the caliph. Wherever he went, he
ordered the caliph of the East to be proclaimed by sound of trumpet,
denouncing Abderahman as a usurper, the vagrant member of a family
proscribed and execrated in all the mosques of the East.
One of the first to join his standard was Hixem ben Adra, so recently
pardoned by Abderahman. He seized upon the citadel of Toledo, and repairing
to the camp of Aly, offered to deliver the city into his hands.
Abderahman, as bold in war as he was gentle in peace, took the field with
his wonted promptness; overthrew his enemies, with great slaughter, drove
some to the seacoast to regain their ships, and others to the mountains.
The body of Aly was found on the field of battle. Abderahman caused the
head to be struck off, and conveyed to Cairvan, where it was affixed at
night to a column in the public square, with this inscription: "Thus
Abderahman, the descendant of the Omeyas, punishes the rash and arrogant."
Hixem ben Adra escaped from the field of battle, and excited further
troubles, but was eventually captured by Abdelmelee, who ordered his head
to be struck off on the spot, lest he should again be spared, through the
wonted clemency of Abderahman.
Notwithstanding these signal triumphs, the reign of Abderahman was
disturbed by further insurrections, and by another descent from Africa, but
he was victorious over them all; striking the roots of his power deeper and
deeper into the land. Under his sway, the government of Spain became more
regular and consolidated, and acquired an independence of the empire of the
East. The caliph continued to be considered as first pontiff and chief of
the religion, but he ceased to have any temporal power over Spain.
Having again an interval of peace, Abderahman devoted himself to the
education of his children. Suleiman, the eldest, he appointed Wali or
governor of Toledo; Abdallah, the second, was intrusted with the command of
Merida; but the third son, Hixem, was the delight of his heart, the son of
Howara, his favorite sultana, whom he loved throughout life with the utmost
tenderness. With this youth, who was full of promise, he relaxed from the
fatigues of government; joining in his youthful sports amid the delightful
gardens of Cordova, and teaching him the gentle art of falconry, of which
the king was so fond that he received the name of the Falcon of Coraixi.
While Abderahman was thus indulging in the gentle propensities of his
nature, mischief was secretly at work. Muhamad, the youngest son of Yusuf,
had been for many years a prisoner in the tower of Cordova. Being passive
and resigned, his keepers relaxed their vigilance, and brought him forth
from his dungeon. He went groping about, however, in broad daylight, as if
still in the darkness of his tower. His guards watched him narrowly, lest
this should be a deception, but were at length convinced that the long
absence of light had rendered him blind. They now permitted him to descend
frequently to the lower chambers of the tower, and to sleep there
occasionally, during the heats of summer. They even allowed him to grope
his way to the cistern, in quest of water for his ablutions.
A year passed in this way without anything to excite suspicion. During all
this time, however, the blindness of Muhamad was entirely a deception; and
he was concerting a plan of escape, through the aid of some friends of his
father, who found means to visit him occasionally. One sultry evening in
midsummer, the guards had gone to bathe in the Guadalquivir, leaving
Muhamad alone, in the lower chambers of the tower. No sooner were they out
of sight and hearing than he hastened to a window of the staircase, leading
down to the cistern, lowered himself as far as his arms would reach, and
dropped without injury to the ground. Plunging into the Guadalquivir, he
swam across to a thick grove on the opposite side, where his friends were
waiting to receive him. Here, mounting a horse which they had provided for
an event of the kind, he fled across the country, by solitary roads, and
made good his escape to the mountains of Jaen.
The guardians of the tower dreaded for some time to make known his flight
to Abderahman. When at length it was told to him, he exclaimed: "All is the
work of eternal wisdom; it is intended to teach us that we cannot benefit
the wicked without injuring the good. The flight of that blind man will
cause much trouble and bloodshed."
His predictions were verified. Muhamad reared the standard of rebellion on
the mountains; the seditious and discontented of all kinds hastened to join
it, together with soldiers of fortune, or rather wandering banditti, and he
had soon six thousand men, well armed, hardy in habits and desperate in
character. His brother Casim also reappeared about the same time in the
mountains of Ronda, at the head of a daring band that laid all the
neighboring valleys under contribution.
Abderahman summoned his alcaydes from their various military posts, to
assist in driving the rebels from their mountain fastnesses into the
plains. It was a dangerous and protracted toil, for the mountains were
frightfully wild and rugged. He entered them with a powerful host, driving
the rebels from height to height and valley to valley, and harassing them
by a galling fire from thousands of crossbows. At length a decisive battle
took place near the river Guadalemar. The rebels were signally defeated;
four thousand fell in action, many were drowned in the river, and Muhamad,
with a few horsemen, escaped to the mountains of the Algarves. Here he was
hunted by the alcaydes from one desolate retreat to another; his few
followers grew tired of sharing the disastrous fortunes of a fated man; one
by one deserted him, and he himself deserted the remainder, fearing they
might give him up, to purchase their own pardon.
Lonely and disguised, he plunged into the depths of the forests, or lurked
in dens and caverns, like a famished wolf, often casting back his thoughts
with regret to the time of his captivity in the gloomy tower of Cordova.
Hunger at length drove him to Alarcon, at the risk of being discovered.
Famine and misery, however, had so wasted and changed him that he was not
recognized. He remained nearly a year in Alarcon, unnoticed and unknown,
yet constantly tormenting himself with the dread of discovery, and with
groundless fears of the vengeance of Abderahman. Death at length put an end
to his wretchedness.
A milder fate attended his brother Casim. Being defeated in the mountains
of Murcia, he was conducted in chains to Cordova. On coming into the
presence of Abderahman, his once fierce and haughty spirit, broken by
distress, gave way; he threw himself on the earth, kissed the dust beneath
the feet of the king, and implored his clemency. The benignant heart of
Abderahman was filled with melancholy, rather than exultation, at beholding
this wreck of the once haughty family of Yusuf a suppliant at his feet, and
suing for mere existence. He thought upon the mutability of fortune, and
felt how insecure are all her favors. He raised the unhappy Casim from the
earth, ordered his irons to be taken off, and, not content with mere
forgiveness, treated him with honor, and gave him possessions in Seville,
where he might live in state conformable to the ancient dignity of his
family. Won by this great and persevering magnanimity, Casim ever after
remained one of the most devoted of his subjects.
All the enemies of Abderahman were at length subdued; he reigned undisputed
sovereign of the Moslems of Spain; and so benign was his government that
every one blessed the revival of the illustrious line of Omeya. He was at
all times accessible to the humblest of his subjects: the poor man ever
found in him a friend, and the oppressed a protector. He improved the
administration of justice; established schools for public instruction;
encouraged poets and men of letters, and cultivated the sciences. He built
mosques in every city that he visited; inculcated religion by example as
well as by precept; and celebrated all the festivals prescribed by the
Koran with the utmost magnificence.
As a monument of gratitude to God for the prosperity with which he had been
favored, he undertook to erect a mosque in his favorite city of Cordova
that should rival in splendor the great mosque of Damascus, and excel the
one recently erected in Bagdad by the Abbassides, the supplanters of his
family.
It is said that he himself furnished the plan for this famous edifice, and
even worked on it, with his own hands, one hour in each day, to testify his
zeal and humility in the service of God, and to animate his workmen. He did
not live to see it completed, but it was finished according to his plans by
his son Hixem. When finished, it surpassed the most splendid mosques of the
east. It was six hundred feet in length, and two hundred and fifty in
breadth. Within were twenty-eight aisles, crossed by nineteen, supported by
a thousand and ninety-three columns of marble. There were nineteen portals,
covered with plates of bronze of rare workmanship. The principal portal was
covered with plates of gold. On the summit of the grand cupola were three
gilt balls surmounted by a golden pomegranate. At night, the mosque was
illuminated with four thousand seven hundred lamps, and great sums were
expended in amber and aloes, which were burned as perfumes. The mosque
remains to this day, shorn of its ancient splendor, yet still one of the
grandest Moslem monuments in Spain.
Finding himself advancing in years, Abderahman assembled in his capital of
Cordova the principal governors and commanders of his kingdom, and in
presence of them all, with great solemnity, nominated his son Hixem as the
successor to the throne. All present made an oath of fealty to Abderahman
during his life, and to Hixem after his death. The prince was younger than
his brothers, Suleiman and Abdallah; but he was the son of Howara, the
tenderly beloved sultana of Abderahman, and her influence, it is said,
gained him this preference.
Within a few months afterward, Abderahman fell grievously sick at Merida.
Finding his end approaching, he summoned Hixem to his bedside: "My son,"
said he, "the angel of death is hovering over me; treasure up, therefore,
in thy heart this dying counsel, which I give through the great love I bear
thee. Remember that all empire is from God, who gives and takes it away,
according to his pleasure. Since God, through his divine goodness, has
given us regal power and authority, let us do his holy will, which is
nothing else than to do good to all men, and especially to those committed
to our protection. Render equal justice, my son, to the rich and the poor,
and never suffer injustice to be done within thy dominion, for it is the
road to perdition. Be merciful and benignant to those dependent upon thee.
Confide the government of thy cities and provinces to men of worth and
experience; punish without compassion those ministers who oppress thy
people with exorbitant exactions. Pay thy troops punctually; teach them to
feel a certainty in thy promises; command them with gentleness but
firmness, and make them in truth the defenders of the state, not its
destroyers. Cultivate unceasingly the affections of thy people, for in
their good-will consists the security of the state, in their distrust its
peril, in their hatred its certain ruin. Protect the husbandmen who
cultivate the earth, and yield us necessary sustenance; never permit their
fields, and groves, and gardens to be disturbed. In a word, act in such
wise that thy people may bless thee, and may enjoy, under the shadow of thy
wing, a secure and tranquil life. In this consists good government; if thou
dost practice it, thou wilt be happy among thy people, and renowned
throughout the world."
Having given this excellent counsel, the good king Abderahman blessed his
son Hixem, and shortly after died; being but in the sixtieth year of his
age. He was interred with great pomp; but the highest honors that
distinguished his funeral were the tears of real sorrow shed upon his
grave. He left behind him a name for valor, justice, and magnanimity, and
forever famous as being the founder of the glorious line of the Ommiades in
Spain.