THE ARAB-MOORS.
ABDALLAH TELLS THE EARLY HISTORY OF THE ARABS.--MIRACLES AT THE
BIRTH OF MOHAMMED.--THE ANGEL, GABRIEL, WRITES THE KORAN UPON PALM
LEAVES.--TEN DECISIVE YEARS IN THE HISTORY OF RELIGION.--BEAUTIFUL
ZELICA.--ARAB-MOORS CHECKED IN THEIR CONQUEST.--QUARREL
BETWEEN KING RODERICK AND COUNT JULIEN, FATHER OF THE INSULTED
FLORINDA.--JEWS ALLY WITH THE WRONGED FATHER.--ANDALUSIA CONQUERED.
In a beautiful valley on the banks of the Guadalquivir, about five
miles from Cordova, within sight of the Caliph's magnificent palace
of _Medina-al-Zohar_ (town of the flower) stands the picturesque
residence of the Moorish poet, Abdallah Ibn Xamri. Dunash ben Labrat,
the distinguished Jewish poet, our new found friend and guide, has
no need for a formal announcement. A massive bronze gate opens into
a beautifully paved court yard, from the center of which issues the
never-failing fountain jet to a dazzling height, diffusing refreshing
coolness and making a pleasant patter of the falling drops into the
basin. A gallery encircles this court, supported by slender columns of
alabaster, from which spring numbers of graceful horseshoe arches. The
interspaces above the arches are filled with arabesques, interwreathing
striking texts from the Koran in brilliant red and blue and gold. Above
these are the latticed windows which light the seraglio.
From this luxurious court we pass through a double archway into
another, abounding with tropical plants. Here within the concealment of
the densest shade trees, is a very long oblong marble basin, supplied
with artificially cooled water. Here, in the early morning and in the
evening twilight, the indolent, the warm, the weary bathe in luxurious
languor. Here the women meet to disport themselves, while the entrances
are guarded by eunuchs against intrusion. From this private court a
postern leads into a beautiful garden with mazy walks and blooming
_parterres_, replete with artificial grottoes and kiosks of stained
glass, and terraces of polished marbles, and balustrades supported by
guilded columns, and ponds filled with gold and silver fishes.
"Here we shall find Abdallah Ibn Xamri," says Dunash ben Labrat; "he
delights to take his siesta within yonder pavilion, which is well
provided with books and musical instruments. There his beautiful
daughter _Zelica_ tunes the lyre as he courts the muses, and her
melodious voice has inspired his most wondrous lyric gems."
Abdallah recognizes Dunash's voice, and bids him enter. We obey the
summons. Surprise is visible in Abdallah's countenance as he gazes
upon our strange faces. Before us stands a typical Moor. His person
is well formed. He has an oval face, aquiline nose, long and arched
eyebrow, nearly meeting, large restless black eyes, smooth skin, clear
olive complexion, full dark hair and beard, and an elastic springy
step. His head is covered with a green woolen cap of cylindrical form
from which hangs a blue tassel. Over a long straight robe of light
cloth, he wears a shorter tunic, elaborately embroidered. Sandals are
tied to his feet with strings of twisted silver and gold.
We exchange _Salams_. Our friend introduces us. In measured rhyme he
states that he had brought us to Cordova's distinguished son of the
muses to learn from the most authentic source the "History of the
entrance of the Arab-Moors into Spain." Abdallah receives us cordially,
asks us to recline upon the _divan_--the cushioned seats running along
the walls of the pavilion--he takes his reclining position opposite us,
and after a few introductory remarks he speaks as follows:
"The great peninsula, formed by the Red Sea, by the Euphrates, by
the Gulf of Persia and by the Indian ocean, and known by the name of
Arabia, is the birthplace of our creed. It was peopled soon after
the deluge by the children of _Shem_, the son of Noah. In course of
time the brave _Yarab_ established the kingdom of _Yemen_, whence the
Arabs derive the names of themselves and their country. During a long
succession of ages, extending from the earliest period of recorded
history down to the seventh century, Arabia remained unchanged and
unaffected by the events which convulsed the rest of Asia and shook
Europe and Africa to their very center. The occupations of the people
were trade and agriculture. The former had ports along the coasts, and
carried on foreign trade by means of ships and caravans. The nomadic
Arabs were the more numerous of the two. The necessity of being always
on the alert to defend their flocks and herds made these familiar from
their infancy, with the exercise of arms. No one could excel them in
the use of the bow, the lance and the scimitar, and the adroit and
graceful management of the horse. They were more at home on horseback
than on foot. The horse was their friend and companion. They lived and
talked with him and lavished upon him their dearest affection, and
both were capable of sustaining great fatigue and hardship. The Arabs
possessed in an eminent degree the intellectual attributes of the
Shemitic race. Penetrating sagacity, subtle wit, a ready conception,
a brilliant imagination, a proud and daring spirit were stamped upon
their sallow visage, and flashed from their dark and kindling eye.
Our language, naturally poetic, made them poets and the most eloquent
of men. They were generous and hospitable. Their deadliest foe,
having once broken bread with them, could repose securely beneath the
inviolable sanctity of their tent. Their religion originally consisted
of a belief in the unity of God, in future life, in the necessity of
prayer and virtue. This was the creed of Abraham and was brought to
them by Ishmael and Hagar. In the course of time it became contaminated
with Sabean star worship and Magian idolatry."
"When Palestine was ravaged by the Romans, and the city of Jerusalem
taken and sacked, many of the Jews took refuge among them, and
gradually many of the tenets of the Jewish faith and practices of
the Jewish worship were again insensibly adopted by them. The same
refuge Arabia offered later to many Christians who were fleeing from
the persecutions of Rome, and these also engrafted gradually, some of
their rites and ceremonies and beliefs upon the people. The result
was a mixture of religious beliefs, the highest religious principles
alternating with the most degrading idolatries. There was no accepted
creed, no unified faith."
A great reformer was needed, and the great _Allah_ sent his prophet,
_Mohammed_, to establish the only true faith: _Islamism_. His birth was
accompanied by signs and portents, announcing a child of wonder.[6] At
the moment of his coming into the world, a celestial light, illuminated
the surrounding country, and the new-born child, raising his eyes to
heaven, exclaimed "God is great! There is no God but God, and I am
his Prophet." Heaven and earth were agitated at his advent. Palaces,
and temples and mountains toppled to the earth. The fires, sacred to
Zoroaster, which had burned, without interruption for upwards of a
thousand years, were suddenly extinguished, and all the idols in the
world fell down. Though his true Messiahship was thus made evident
at his birth, and in his youth, he still waited to the age of fully
ripened manhood before he made the attempt of establishing the creed,
which the angel Gabriel had written down for him upon palm leaves. But
when the time had come for raising his own nation from fetichism, from
the adoration of a meteoric stone, and from the basest idol worship,
he awakened his people out of their religious and political torpor,
kindled the fire of enthusiasm among them, and they thirsted after
opportunities for contest and conquests.
[6] Talmud Babli in _Sotah 13a_, speaks of a similar
supernatural light at the birth of Moses.
* * * * *
When death took the sword from his hand ten years later, the whole
world trembled at the very mention of his name.
* * * * *
Here Abdallah pauses in his narrative. He touches a silver bell, and
soon a maiden appears. This is the first time that we are permitted
to gaze upon a Moorish woman's face; those we met in the streets or
parks, or saw behind the latticework of the woman's gallery in the
mosque, were always clothed in the mantilla, which encircled their
entire form, and their faces were always hidden under the face veil, or
under the horsehair vizard, which left but the eyes visible. She wears
her hair braided. A light cap or cornet, adorned with gems, forms the
covering for her head. The side locks are entwined with coral beads,
hung loosely to chinck with every movement. Full white muslin trousers
are tied at the ankle with golden strings that end in merry little
silver bells. A long full white mantle of transparent muslin covers the
tight-fitting vest and jacket of silk, both of brilliant colors, and
embroidered and decorated with woven gold. Around her neck and arms and
wrists she wears chains, necklaces and bracelets, of gold, and of coral
and pearls and amber.
He whispers something in her ear, and immediately she disappears, light
as an angel shape. A deep silence ensues. At that moment we think not
of Mohammed, the founder of a new faith and the conqueror of the world,
but of _Zelica_, Abdallah's daughter, that beauteous maiden, whose
complexion vies with the rubies and white jasmine flowers she wears
more radiant still when her dazzling eyes drooped, and when the scarlet
hue of innocence mantled her face as her glance met the eyes of men and
strangers.
Abdallah had ordered refreshments. Servants appear and spread an
embroidered rug upon the floor. Upon it they place a low tray, set
with silver and fine earthenware, and provided with the choicest of
fruits, confections and sherbets flavored with violet. Low cushions are
placed around it, upon which we, following the example of our host and
guide, seat ourselves with our legs crossed. Before eating, a servant
pours water on our hands from a basin and ewer. The meal begins with
"_Bismilah_" for grace. A very interesting conversation, displaying
great learning and much reading, is carried on between the two poets,
as to whether Cordova or Bagdad leads the world in literature, art,
science, and philosophy. Abdallah champions Cordova, Dunash favors
Bagdad, his native home.
The delicious repast is ended. The floor is cleared, Abdallah resumes
his narrative.
"The successors of Mohammed," says he, "followed in the footsteps of
our prophet. They passed beyond the confines of Arabia, and persecuted
their work of converting the world, giving to the conquered the choice
between the Koran, or Tribute, or Death. In less than fifty years after
the Prophet's death, Syria, Palestine, Egypt, Mesopotamia, Persia,
Armenia, Asia Minor had accepted the religion of Mohammed. In Jerusalem
a mosque stood on the site where once the temple of Solomon stood. In
Alexandria the Mohammedans wrought direful vengeance on Christians for
the crimes which the arrogant and fanatical St. Cyril had committed
there two centuries before, by extirpating Grecian learning and by
inciting his monks to murder the wise _Hypatia_."
The extreme northern part of Africa brought their armies to a sudden
halt. Here they encounter two strong foes. First, the people called
_Berbers_ "the Noble," a tall, noble looking race of men, active,
high-spirited and indomitable. They had the same patriarchal habits,
the same Shemitic features, were equally skilled in the use of arms and
the breeding and handling of horses, and so the Arabs believed them to
be of their own race. This Northern coast of Africa has been called by
the Romans, from the dark complexion of its people: _Mauritania_, and
its people were called _Mooriscos_, or _Moors_. When the superior force
of the Arabians compelled the Moors to submit at last, the conquerors
and the conquered coalesced so completely, that in less than a decade
the one could not be distinguished from the other.
"The second foe, however, who inhabited the Northern extremity of
_Almagreb_, where the continent of Africa protrudes boldly to meet the
continent of Europe, was not so easily overcome. The rock-built city of
_Ceuta_ was garrisoned by Spanish soldiers, and its brave commander,
Count _Julian_, defied the valiant Amir _Musa Ibn Nosseyr_, the Hero of
Two Continents. It seemed as if _Islamism_ had reached its limit, that
it would never set its foot upon beautiful Andalusia, at which it had
so often cast its wistful eye. But _Allah_ favored the onward march of
the religion of the Prophet! The wrong done by the wicked _Roderick_,
King of Spain, to the young and beautiful _Florinda_, daughter of
Count _Julian_, the brave commander of _Ceuta_, opened Europe to the
Arab-Moors. "_By the living God_," exclaimed the insulted father. "_I
will be revenged._"
He soon found willing allies, consisting of the nobles, who could no
longer endure the despotism of King Roderick, and of the Jews, who had
been expelled from Spain. Encouraged by these allies Count _Julian_
entered into negotiations with Amir _Musa_ for the delivery of Spain
into his hands. Musa accepted cheerfully.
"Long had the crimes of Spain cried out to Heaven:
At length the measure of offence was full.
Count Julian called the invader."
"Mad to wreak
His vengeance for his deeply injured child
On Roderick's head, an evil hour for Spain,
For that unhappy daughter, and himself.
Desperate apostate, on the Moors he called,
And, like a cloud of locusts, whom the wind
Wafts from the plains of wasted Africa,
The Mussulman upon Iberia's shores
Descends. A countless multitude they came:
Syrian, Moors, Saracen, Greek renegade,
Persian, and Copt, and Latin, in one band
Of Islam's faith conjoined, strong in the youth
And heat of zeal, a dreadful brotherhood."
The valiant _Tarik_ crossed with a selected force, the strait between
the Pillars of Hercules, which is now named after him "_Gibr-al-Tarik_"
(Gibraltar), "the rock of Tarik." On the 24th of July, 711, the two
armies met at the river of Guadalete, not far from Xeres, and after
a three days' battle a small force of picked men, the indomitable
horsemen of the desert, routed 80,000 Spaniards, amidst terrible
carnage. Tarik pressed eagerly forward. _Cordova_, _Malaga_, _Toledo_,
_Merida_, surrendered after little or no opposition. In six years later
the Arab-Moors were complete masters of Spain, and have been so unto
this day."
Abdallah has ended his narrative. Unconsciously, it seems, he takes
the lute at his side, and running his fingers over the strings, he
strikes a few chords and finally, as if desirious of supplementing his
version of the entrance of Arab-Moors into Europe, he makes the lute
accompany his recital of some of the songs and verses he had composed
in commemoration of the victory of the Arab-Moors over fair Andalusia,
and which have since become as popular in Bagdad and Antioch as in
Cordova or Granada. We wish, but our wish is in vain, that _Zelica_
might return to her wonted task, that her young and melodious voice
might blend with the melting strains of the Moorish bard.
The heroic theme inspires Abdallah more and more. He begins to
improvise. He defends _Florinda_, whom the Spaniards execrate, and name
"_La Cava_"--"the Wicked." He sings of Roderick's entering the cave
over which was written: "_The king who opens this cave and discovers
its wonders will learn both good and evil_," and, how upon entering it
he read this fatal inscription on the walls: "_Unhappy King, thou hast
entered in an evil hour. By strange nations thou shalt be dispossessed,
and thy people degraded_." He sings of the combat between Tarik and
Roderick. He sings of the captive queen _Egilona_. He sings of the
jealousy between Musa and Tarik, and of other themes, heroic and
beautiful.
The _muezzin's_ summons to evening prayer stops his muse, and makes
our hasty departure necessary, for it is Friday evening, and the
distance to the synagogue is long. We part hastily. Before leaving,
however, Abdallah exacts a promise from Dunash that he will send for
him whenever Chasdai ben Isaac, the distinguished Jewish Minister to
the Caliph, shall tell us the _History of the Entrance of the Jews into
Spain_.
RODERICK'S LAMENT.
A SPANISH NATIONAL BALLAD.
Translated by J. G. Lockhart.
The host of Don Rodrigo were scattered in dismay,
When lost was the eighth battle, nor heart nor hope had they;
He, when he saw the field was lost, and all his hope was flown,
He turned him from his flying host and took his way alone,
His horse was bleeding, blind, and lame, he could no farther go,
Dismounted, without path or aim, the king stepped to and fro.
It was a sight of pity to look on Roderick,
For sore athirst and hungry he staggered faint and sick.
All stained and strewed with dust and blood, like to some smouldering
brand
Pluck'd from the flame, Rodrigo shew'd. His sword was in his hand;
But it was hacked into a saw of dark and purple tint;
His jewell'd mail had many a flaw, his helmet many a dint.
He climbed unto a hill-top, the highest he could see,
Thence all about of that wild route his last long look took he.
He saw his royal banners where they lay drenched and torn,
He heard the cry of victory, the Arabs' shout of scorn.
He look'd for the brave captains that had led the hosts of Spain,
But all were fled except the dead, and who could count the slain?
Where'er his eyes could wander, all bloody was the plain;
And while thus he said the tears he shed ran down his cheeks like
rain:
"Last night I was the King of Spain, to-day no king am I;
Last night fair castles held my train, to-night where shall I lie;
Last night a hundred pages did serve me on the knee,
To-night not one I call my own, not one pertains to me.
"O luckless, luckless was the hour, and cursed was the day
When I was born to have the power of this great seigniory;
Unhappy me that I should live to see the sun go down this night,
O Death, why now so slow art thou, why fearest thou to smite?"