REIGN OF AL-MONDHIR; REIGN OF ABDALLAH
886–912
Parallel between the Policy of the Moorish and Asturian
Courts--Alfonso III.--His Conquests--Energy of Al-Mondhir--Siege
of Bobastro--Stratagem of Ibn-Hafsun--The Emir is
Poisoned--Abdallah ascends the Throne--Conditions of Parties and
Sects--Prevalence of Disorder--Insurrection at Elvira--Success
of the Arab Faction--Disturbances at Seville--General
Disaffection of the Provinces--Ibn-Hafsun defeated at
Aguilar--Disastrous and Permanent Effects of the Continuance of
Anarchy--Sudden Death of Abdallah--Important Political Changes
wrought by a Generation of Civil Warfare.
A striking parallel exists between the successive events that compose
respectively the political history of the rival kingdoms of Christian
and Moorish Spain. In the circumstances of physical environment, in
national traditions, in manners, language, and religious belief,
no two races could be more dissimilar. Yet, in many respects, the
accounts of the disturbances following the accession of the Kings of
the Asturias and the Emirs of Cordova are counterparts of each other.
Both monarchies were, in theory, elective. The independent spirit of
the Arab and the untamed ferocity of the Goth were equally opposed
to the subordination necessarily implied by the adoption of the law
of hereditary descent. As the ruler grew more powerful, he naturally
became more anxious to transmit to his descendants the authority which
had been gained by his valor or confirmed by his prudence. To secure to
his family this coveted advantage, he was accustomed to solicit, in his
lifetime, the public acknowledgment of his son as heir apparent, who
had, not infrequently, been associated with him in the conduct of the
administration. A council composed of the principal officers, prelates,
and nobles of the realm was convoked, and required to show its devotion
to king or emir by swearing allegiance to the prince whom paternal
affection, and sometimes distinguished merit, had designated as the
future sovereign. This assent, prompted by interest and the certainty
of royal favor, was seldom refused, and, strengthened by custom until
it became a part of the constitution, was, after a few generations,
regarded as a mere ceremonial,--the formal assertion of a right whose
legality had been tacitly established by considerations of public
policy, if not by ancient prescription. But such was the effect of a
regulation in governments which preserved the forms of election but
repudiated its untrammelled exercise, that the choice of the monarch,
as soon as he ascended the throne, generally found himself embroiled
with his less fortunate brethren, each of whom believed that he had
been defrauded of his birthright. That the mere consent of the council
was not deemed conclusive is proven by the fact that possession of the
palace was deemed _prima facie_ evidence of title, a principle
recognized equally at Oviedo and Cordova. With insubordination came
civil war and the lamentable consequences of internecine conflict.
The savage instincts of the Gothic princes caused them to blind their
unfortunate rivals and immure them for life in the foul and reeking
cells of subterranean dungeons. The vengeance of the Moor, however,
was usually satisfied with short imprisonment, and, if the culprit
expressed contrition, he was often restored to favor and his crime
condoned. The student of ancient Spanish history cannot fail to be
deeply impressed with the different methods of dealing with treason
in the north and south of the Peninsula, regions arrayed against each
other in continual hostility,--exhibiting marked resemblances when
they were least to be expected, and, in disposing of offences aimed
at the throne and life of the monarch, displaying, on the one hand,
an indulgence dictated by a magnanimity that seemed almost suicidal;
on the other, a severity characterized by atrocities that could only
proceed from the grossest barbarism.
The long and illustrious reign of Alfonso III., worthily named The
Great, which occupies so much space in the early annals of the
Reconquest, affords a conspicuous example of the vicissitudes and
trials that attended the adventurous lives of the princes of the
Asturian monarchy. Associated with his father Ordoño for four years
preceding his advent to the throne, he was far from being a novice when
summoned to assume the grave responsibilities of sovereignty. The four
brothers of the King, jealous of the paternal preference, and disputing
the legality of a custom that arbitrarily excluded from the succession
even those most eligible under the provisions of the ancient Visigothic
constitution, united their forces in a formidable attempt to subvert
the authority of Alfonso. The enterprise resulted disastrously; the
barbarous severity of the laws was demonstrated without the mitigation
that might have been expected from the influence of fraternal sympathy,
and the unhappy princes were deprived of their eye-sight and imprisoned
for life in the castle of Oviedo. Three of them speedily sank under
the hardships of confinement; but the fourth, Veremundo, succeeded, by
some fortunate circumstance, in escaping, and was eventually raised
by his adherents to the government of Astorga. In this strong city,
occasionally assisted by the arms of the Moors, he successfully defied
the attacks of the King of the Asturias for more than seven years. The
address and courage necessarily implied by this determined resistance
are in themselves sufficiently remarkable; but the fact that the hero
who directed operations which thwarted the designs and repulsed the
forces of an entire kingdom for this extended period was totally blind
may well awaken surprise and admiration.
The eminent abilities of Alfonso III. were displayed on many a hotly
contested field and in many a critical emergency during his long
career. His arms were carried farther into the country of the enemy
than the bravest of his predecessors had ventured to penetrate.
Coimbra, Oporto, Zamora, Toro, Simancas, and numerous other cities of
less importance were added to the dominions of the Christian monarchy
by the efforts of his valor or the terror of his name. The sound
of his trumpets had awakened the affrighted peasantry whose fields
occupied the fertile slopes of the Sierra Morena. His banners had
been repeatedly seen from the battlements of Merida. His squadrons
had menaced the suburbs of the Moslem capital. He enforced with
unabated rigor the ruthless policy of extermination inaugurated by
the first monarch of his name. The captives taken in his numerous
expeditions were, for the most part, distributed among the estates
of the ecclesiastical order and the royal demesnes, to be employed
in the construction of churches, monasteries, castles, and palaces.
With each advance of the line marking the boundary of the two kingdoms
to the southward, new fortresses were erected, the most famous of
which was that which stood upon the site of modern Burgos, a city
whose fortunes have ever been so closely identified with those of the
Castilian monarchy. The province of Navarre, heretofore considered as
an insignificant principality, whose allegiance to the Asturian Crown
was conceded rather by the indifference of its inhabitants than based
upon the acknowledgment of any well-defined obligation, was, by the
marriage of Alfonso III. to Ximena, daughter of the count, enabled to
claim, for the first time in history, the position of an independent
kingdom. For thirty-one years Alfonso maintained an incessant contest
with the Emirs of Cordova. He saw the dominions of the descendants of
those terrified fugitives who had taken shelter in the wilds of the
Pyrenees extended far beyond the Douro and the Tagus to the shores of
the distant Guadiana. He witnessed the thorough consolidation of the
temporal and ecclesiastical powers, a union portending so much to the
future renown and dishonor of Spain. The shrine of Santiago had already
been enriched by the devotion of the pious and the fears of the wicked;
the rude hamlet had begun to assume the appearance of a city; the
homely chapel had been replaced by a stately cathedral; and a constant
stream of weeping and hysterical pilgrims attested the growth of a
spirit of fanaticism whose effects were to be, erelong, conspicuously
exhibited in those romantic deeds of daring which abound in the
annals of the Reconquest. At the close of his reign, three-fourths of
the Peninsula--a territory that, with the exception of a corner of
the mountain wilderness, had once paid tribute to the followers of
Mohammed--was in the possession of the champions of Christendom or
their allies.
The youth of the new Emir, Al-Mondhir, had, like that of his ancestors,
been passed amidst military exercises or in warlike enterprises. No
prince had yet ascended the throne under more auspicious circumstances,
nor, at the same time, better qualified to restore the tarnished
lustre of the Moslem name. His discretion and sagacity bore a just
proportion to the impulsive courage that distinguished him among a
nation of heroes. The energy of his character may be inferred from his
response to the Toledans, who, immediately after his accession, sent
him the customary tribute, which he at once returned with the following
message, “Keep your money for the expenses of war, for, if God so
wills, I shall soon attack you.”
The absence of Al-Mondhir, as has been already related, gave the
redoubtable rebel Ibn-Hafsun an opportunity to greatly increase his
following, and to secure, by threats and delusive promises, many
important fortresses in Andalusia. The resolute prince, thoroughly
cognizant of the dangerous character of his adversary, did not suffer
him to long enjoy the advantages which the domestic misfortune of
others rather than his own abilities had enabled him to obtain.
Leaving Cordova quietly at the head of a body of veteran troops, he
suddenly laid siege to the strong post of Archidona, commanded by
an ally of Ibn-Hafsun, and, like him, a renegade. The boldness of
this chieftain, who, while defaming the religion he had renounced,
declared his willingness to be executed in case of capture, led
Al-Mondhir to tempt the cupidity of the citizens by an enormous
bribe; the apostate was surrendered, and, in accordance with the
terms of his defiance, underwent a death ignominious in the eyes of
all Mussulmans,--crucifixion between the bodies of two of the most
unclean of animals. Terrified by this example of severity, Archidona
opened its gates. The cavalry of the Emir then swept the country of
provisions; some towns were plundered; a score of insurgents selected
for prominence in their party were executed; and the entire army of
Al-Mondhir, flushed with success and animated by the hope of booty and
vengeance, invested the formidable stronghold of Bobastro.
While he entertained little fear that his castle could be taken, the
cunning Ibn-Hafsun determined to provide if possible against such a
contingency, and relieve his followers from the disastrous consequences
of a blockade. With every appearance of sincerity, he professed
a desire to conclude a permanent peace. Al-Mondhir, with all his
experience, was not proof against the humble protestations of regret
and assurances of future loyalty proffered by the rebel chieftain.
A treaty was drawn up virtually at the dictation of the latter. At
his request, a hundred mules, guarded by an escort of a hundred and
sixty horsemen, were furnished to convey his family and property to
Cordova. His apparent submission having removed all suspicions of his
good faith, he escaped without difficulty in the dead of night; and
having returned to Bobastro, which the army of the Emir had quitted,
he collected a few soldiers, massacred the escort, and by daybreak
was once more under shelter of the towers of the fortress. The rage
of Al-Mondhir, aroused to the highest pitch by this exhibition of
duplicity, impelled him to take a solemn oath that he would never cease
his efforts until the perfidious rebel should have paid the extreme
penalty of his treason. The blockade was renewed, but with diminished
vigor, as the discipline of the troops was not only lax, but they
were disheartened at the prospect of a protracted siege, the opinion
prevailing among them that Bobastro was impregnable. Aware of the
increasing discontent, a conspiracy was formed against Al-Mondhir by
his brother Abdallah and the eunuchs of the palace; the court physician
was prevailed upon to use a poisoned lancet to bleed his royal patient
for some trifling indisposition; and the gallant prince, whose career
bade fair to be one of the most illustrious of his dynasty, died in
excruciating torture after a reign of a little less than two years.
He left no sons, and the criminal design of Abdallah, which had been
pushed rapidly to its execution for this very reason, having been
accomplished, that prince, informed of the death of Al-Mondhir before
it was known to his friends, appeared suddenly in camp, asserted his
claim to the throne, and received the reluctant homage of the officers
of the army.
The soldiers, who respected the abilities and stood in awe of the
ferocious spirit of Ibn-Hafsun, displayed no grief at the death of
their sovereign. With every manifestation of joy, they turned their
backs upon the rebel stronghold, and, without preserving the semblance
of military order, began a straggling march towards their homes. Each
village which this armed rabble traversed was the scene of hundreds
of desertions, and of the plunder of the already grievously oppressed
inhabitants. The disorderly retreat had not escaped the notice of
Ibn-Hafsun, and he was already close in the rear of the retiring column
when a messenger arrived from the usurper imploring his forbearance,
and declaring that he entertained no hostile intentions towards him.
The rebel leader had the courtesy to respect this petition; and
Abdallah, guarding his brother’s corpse lashed carelessly upon a camel,
was permitted to reach Cordova without molestation. So complete was the
disorganization of the army, that of a force numbering several thousand
men scarcely twoscore troopers remained to escort the new monarch to
the gates of the capital.
The crown that had been polluted by treason and fratricide seemed
destined now to become the instrument of universal misfortune.
The political condition of the Peninsula was already extremely
complicated. Society was everywhere threatened with dissolution. The
Arabs, proud of their lineage, and appropriating to their race the
credit of conquests largely achieved by their allies and proselytes,
constituted an aristocracy whose pretensions were both unwarrantable
and offensive. Far from recognizing the new converts to Islam as
brothers,--as recommended by the Koran,--they treated them as
inferiors, and frequently loaded them with indignities which they
would have hesitated to inflict upon their own slaves. The lapse of
generations, the most eminent services, the greatest talents, the
performance of acts of valor that evoked the plaudits of their enemies,
could not, in the eyes of these haughty descendants of idolaters and
banditti, atone for the reproach of ancient infidelity. But it was
only in their antagonism to recent converts and their children that
the Arabs were united. Between the Syrian and the Bedouin of the
Hedjaz still existed an irreconcilable enmity. The hereditary feud
of Maadite and Yemenite preserved all its original bitterness and
intensity, although, on account of the incessant clashing of other
interests, its manifestations were not so pronounced as they had been
in the earlier years of the emirate. The confiscation of the estates
of Gothic fugitives and the fortunes of the Conquest had given the
Arabs an opportunity to acquire extensive estates and to amass immense
riches. The deeply-rooted antipathy of the Bedouin to confinement had
caused the aristocracy of the Peninsula to establish itself in the
vicinity of large cities, such as Jaen, Cordova, Seville, and Malaga,
where, surrounded by an army of retainers and slaves, they enjoyed
the pleasures and independence of a pastoral life, for which they had
inherited a predilection from their ancestors, the nobles of Central
and Western Arabia.
But the several factions into which the Arabs were divided bore no
comparison in numbers, power, or opulence to those composing the
remainder of the population. It was but a small proportion of the
Christians who, in consequence of the invasion of Tarik, had sought
the unfettered exercise of political and religious liberty amidst the
wilds of the Asturias. The sacred traditions of ancestry, the ties of
birth, the associations of childhood, the fear of penury, the hope of
wealth and distinction, retained the large majority in their homes,
where many continued to enjoy the consideration derived from exalted
rank and great possessions. Some paid gladly the reasonable tribute
that promised a greater degree of security than they had ever known
under the kings and chieftains of Gothic lineage. These were called
Ahl-al-Dhimmah, The Tributaries. The members of another class, the
Ajem, boldly refused to recognize the authority of the conqueror,
and maintained a nominal independence in the mountains where they
had their haunts, but, destitute of effective organization, they
scarcely rose to the dignity of banditti. The alluring inducements
of pecuniary interest and political advantage had formed another
caste or faction, more numerous and more important in its influence
on the fortunes of the Peninsula than all the others combined,--the
Muwallads, a comprehensive term denoting persons whose derivation,
while nominally Arab, was yet tainted with some foreign impurity, and
which, corrupted into mulatto, has been incorporated into many of the
languages of Europe. This designation was popularly applied to the
descendants of renegades or apostates, called Mosalimah, an appellation
corresponding to the Moriscoes, or New Christians, converted after the
capture of Granada by the zealous Ximenes and his coadjutors through
the potent arguments of the rack and fagot. Still another caste was the
Muraddin, former converts, who, having renounced the faith of Islam,
had rendered themselves amenable to death, the penalty prescribed by
Mohammed for the unpardonable crime of apostasy. These were outlaws
and highwaymen, who, in defiance of the feeble police maintained by
the government, openly levied contributions upon travellers within
sight of the minarets of Cordova. Add to these disorganizing elements
of society the half-savage Berbers,--for the most part idolaters in
religion and assassins in war,--and the difficulties that confronted
the ablest princes of the Ommeyades may well be conceived. The Jews,
whose mercantile pursuits made them on all occasions advocates for
peace and frequently useful mediators, were robbed and oppressed in
turn by every faction into whose hands they were unfortunate enough to
fall. No region in the world of equal area contained such a mixed and
turbulent population as the Spanish Peninsula before the Reconquest.
The emirs, actuated by a principle familiar to all despotic sovereigns
threatened with a curtailment of their power, bestowed their favor in
turn upon the Arabs and the Muwallads, according as one or the other
seemed about to obtain a pre-eminence dangerous to the safety of the
state. But this policy reacted in an unexpected manner, and aggravated
the evils it was intended to obviate. The victorious party never failed
to abuse its advantage with brutal severity. The faction for the time
being under the frown of the Court, lost all respect for, and renounced
its allegiance to, a government that refused it the protection of the
laws. The result was a bitter conflict in which Arab and Muwallad were
arrayed against the Emir and against each other at the same time. The
death of Al-Mondhir was the signal for increased disorder, which the
feeble and hypocritical Abdallah was incompetent to suppress. The
Arab nobles had long hoped to revive, in another land, that period of
unrestricted license whose traditions survived in the exciting poems of
the robbers and shepherds of the Desert. The famous Ibn-Hafsun, whose
name was the terror of every hamlet, and who, as the head of the rebels
of Bobastro and the natural ally of every party of malcontents, was
more powerful than the Emir himself, now began to entertain hopes of
being actually invested with the royal dignity which he in substance
already enjoyed.
The situation of Abdallah was perilous in the extreme. The loyalty
for the House of Ommeyah, which had been for generations the marked
characteristic of the Arab of Syrian descent and the Koreishite alike,
was greatly impaired. The treasury was empty. The taxes due from the
walis were, for the most part, withheld. The tribute of the Christians,
instigated by the Muwallads whom they considered their champions,
was, except in Cordova and its immediate environs, suspended. The
royal convoys were intercepted and plundered on the highways. The
fidelity of the populace of the capital, suspected of secretly holding
communication with the enemy, was distrusted. A spirit of bravado had
even prompted Ibn-Hafsun to pass several days within its gates, which
he had entered unchallenged in the disguise of a beggar. The prejudices
of Abdallah inclined him to an alliance with the renegades. His early
years had been passed in intimate friendship with the officers of the
guard, who had since become distinguished leaders of that party. The
achievements of Ibn-Hafsun had rather awakened his admiration than
provoked his resentment. Conscious of his helplessness, and desirous of
conciliating the most powerful chief of the opposition, he went so far
as to tender him the government of Regio, conditional upon his return
to his allegiance. The crafty rebel, to whom an oath was an unmeaning
ceremony and who desired a respite to enable him to reorganize his
army, acquiesced without hesitation, and even consented to send his son
and several of his officers as hostages to the court of the Emir. The
latter treated these pledges of the uncertain fidelity of a perfidious
vassal with all the distinction usually reserved for the emissaries of
royalty. They were magnificently entertained, lodged in palaces, and
presented with costly gifts. Unrestrained of their liberty, they had no
trouble in escaping when, a few months later, they received a secret
message to repair to Bobastro. All security for his loyal behavior
being lost by their departure, Ibn-Hafsun resumed his depredations
with greater audacity than ever. His aid was soon afterwards solicited
by the renegades of a district which had hitherto rather avoided than
courted his alliance,--the city and province of Elvira.
In the general distribution of lands made under the direction of
the emirs who acknowledged the Khalif of Damascus, the beautiful
plain subsequently known as the Vega of Granada was assigned to the
natives of Syria. With true Bedouin reserve and love of freedom, the
adventurers who had won this earthly paradise by their valor disposed
their habitations as far from the crowded haunts of men as the extent
and situation of their estates would permit. The increase of their
flocks, and the produce of the soil tilled by multitudes of industrious
slaves, soon raised their descendants to the height of opulence. In the
course of events, through confiscations for treason, the casualties of
war, and the effects of disease, many Arab families became extinct,
and their real property, by purchase or extortion, became vested in
a comparatively small number of great proprietors, whose possessions
embraced all the most valuable estates in the province. These lords
formed a caste that, for arrogance and exclusiveness, had no equal in
the Peninsula. The national pride of the Syrian noble was immensely
flattered by the sovereign pre-eminence of his countrymen, the princes
of the House of Ommeyah. In his inordinate vanity he fancied that
the future of that dynasty depended on his individual exertions, as
he habituated himself to believe that its establishment was solely
due to the genius and efforts of his ancestors. And yet with all his
professed attachment to the crown, his loyalty had been more than once
justly suspected. There, as elsewhere, the interests of the court had
been repeatedly sacrificed to gratify the malice of faction,--for
the inappeasable feud between Yemenite and Maadite was nowhere
maintained with greater virulence than in the province of Elvira. In
his intercourse with his equals the Arab of the Vega--like all his
brethren exposed for a time to the refinements of civilization--was a
model of chivalrous politeness and graceful courtesy. But his demeanor
was far different when his affairs demanded any association with the
inhabitants of the city, who, in his eyes, labored under the double
reproach of being traders and renegades. No opportunity was lost to
humiliate these peaceful citizens; although in practice devout Moslems,
they were constantly taunted with their apostasy; and for their
denunciation the inexhaustible vocabulary of the Arab was ransacked for
opprobrious epithets, one of which, “filii canum,” has descended to our
time as the very epitome of insult.
The high spirit of the inhabitants of Elvira chafed under the gross
and unprovoked abuse which they were constantly compelled to undergo.
They also were vain of their ancestry and proud of their souvenirs.
In the early days of the Visigothic empire, the ancient Illiberis
had been an oasis in the dismal waste of Paganism that included the
entire Peninsula. It had been the seat of the first Spanish bishopric.
There had been held, in the first quarter of the fourth century, a
famous Council, many of whose canons are still recognized as valid by
the Roman Catholic Church. Among them was one requiring the celibacy
of the priesthood, a regulation subsequently adopted and enforced by
Gregory VII. There, too, was contrived a scheme of discipline which,
originally aimed at the rich and prosperous Hebrews, became the model
of that awful engine of persecution, the Inquisition, whose tortures,
improved by ecclesiastical deviltry, filled the world with terror after
the lapse of more than a thousand years. The city, although inferior in
natural advantages to its growing neighbor, Granada, was nevertheless
of considerable political and commercial importance. The generous piety
of the Gothic nobles had enriched its see with large endowments, and
its churches in elegance and splendor could compare with any of the
kingdom.
But the contagious example of the prevalent apostasy, a condition which
dispensed with tribute and at the same time appealed strongly to the
ambition of the unscrupulous and the selfish passions of the multitude,
made itself felt before long even in this citadel of Christianity.
The corruption of the prelates, headed by the bishop, Samuel, whose
profligacy attained for him a notoriety proportionate to the dignity
of the office he disgraced, drove the indignant Christians by hundreds
into the fold of Islam. Those who remained faithful to the traditions
of the Church were so persecuted that no resource was left to them but
to join their brethren, many of whom had sacrificed their convictions
from more ignoble motives than that of self-preservation. This
wholesale desertion was greatly facilitated by the connivance of the
inferior clergy, as well as by the open violence of the bishop and his
coadjutors, who, corrupted by the Moslems, exerted themselves with far
greater energy and success in obtaining proselytes to the religion of
Mohammed than they had ever done in promoting the cause of Christ. In
the end, the excesses of this unworthy prelate became so insufferable
that he was removed from his see and divested of his sacred authority;
whereupon he at once repaired to Cordova, and, having publicly
renounced his faith, was rewarded with the lucrative employment of
persecutor, an infamous office whose duties he discharged with all
the malignant assiduity of the renegade. Long before the accession
of Abdallah, the resentment of the Muwallads of Elvira, inflamed to
the highest pitch, had broken out against their churlish neighbors,
the Arab nobles, in acts of open hostility. The sympathies of the
Jews of Granada seem to have been with the latter, who, on various
occasions, were saved from destruction by the friendly walls of that
city. Superior in numbers and equal in bravery to their adversaries,
the result of every engagement was favorable to the renegades. As
neither party was accustomed to give quarter, the struggle soon assumed
the character of a war of extermination. In the year 889 a number of
Syrian chieftains, who were visiting the capital of the province under
the protection of a truce, were treacherously massacred in the streets,
a catastrophe that gave the Muwallads, already sufficiently powerful,
a momentary but uncontested ascendency. The Arabs, whose numbers had
been depleted by many consecutive years of warfare, forgot, for the
moment, their hereditary enmities, which no disaster, however serious,
could entirely reconcile, in the engrossing passion of vengeance. They
chose for their leader Sauwar, a venerable warrior whose declining
age had been embittered by the bloody sacrifice of his only son to
the fury of the renegades. His misfortunes had erased from his bosom
every feeling of compassion, every suggestion of humanity. A brutal
ferocity that regarded the slightest concession to the weakness of an
enemy as a crime was the prominent characteristic of the sheik whom
the Arabs now selected to restore their fallen fortunes. The first
exploit of this savage warrior was the capture of Monte Sacro, a
stronghold north of Granada which had been the scene of the greatest
victory of the Muwallads and the occasion of the death of his beloved
son. Notwithstanding its strength, the castle was carried at the first
attack, and the garrison, six thousand in number, massacred to a man.
Encouraged by his success and infuriated by the taste of blood, the
desperate Sauwar sated to the full his thirst for retribution. The
terror of his arms caused many towns to surrender without a blow. But
submission conferred no indulgence, and the work went relentlessly on.
No Muwallad who was so unfortunate as to fall into the hands of the
Arabs escaped. A mere suspicion of Spanish or Gothic descent was deemed
sufficient evidence of identity, and brought certain and speedy death.
Even those conditions of helplessness which most readily appeal to
the compassion of mankind were not considered in this indiscriminate
proscription, and many distinguished families whose names were
identified with some of the most conspicuous events of Roman and
Visigothic annals were swept at one blow from the face of the earth.
This reign of terror, which threatened the extermination of their
race, induced the renegades to appeal for assistance to Djad, the
Arab governor of the province, whose authority they had disputed
after refusing the customary tribute. Satisfied of their sincerity,
he marched at the head of a considerable force against the formidable
partisan. The result was a decisive victory for the Arabs; the bodies
of seven thousand dead strewed the field of battle, and the governor
remained a prisoner in the camp of the enemy.
The prestige acquired by Sauwar after these decisive advantages caused
his alliance to be sought by many neighboring cities, among them
Calatrava and Jaen. Reduced to despair, the Muwallad faction declared
their willingness to renew their allegiance to the Emir. But the
latter was powerless to render them any substantial assistance. The
credit of the government was so low that it could scarcely pay the
troops required for the defence of the capital. The personal qualities
of Abdallah were not such as to enlist the sympathy or arouse the
enthusiasm of the people, and thereby compensate, in some degree,
for the deficiencies of the treasury. The governors of the provinces
were, for all practical purposes, independent princes. Cordova was the
residence of the flower of the Arab nobility, whose prejudices were all
on the side of Sauwar and his followers in their efforts to exterminate
the detested renegades, an enterprise which they regarded as little
less meritorious than a crusade against an infidel foe. Willing but
unable to exert his authority in behalf of his unfortunate subjects,
the Emir decided to assume the less dangerous office of mediator. He
therefore offered Sauwar the government of several cities on condition
that he would acknowledge himself a vassal of the crown and cease
his persecution of the renegades. This advantageous proposal was
readily agreed to; the oath of allegiance was taken by both factions;
hostilities were suspended, and, for the first time in many years, the
province of Elvira was permitted to enjoy the blessings of public and
private tranquillity.
Habituated to warfare and scenes of carnage, the active spirit of
Sauwar chafed under the monotony and dullness entailed by civil
drudgery and magisterial duties. The territory that Ibn-Hafsun had
seized, and over which he ruled with despotic sway, extended to the
borders of the province of Elvira. Unable to resist the temptation,
Sauwar turned his attention to the adherents of that renowned champion
of the Muwallads, and soon the valleys and hamlets of eastern Andalusia
were visited with a scourge whose barbarity had no parallel since the
invasion of the Vandals. The sympathy of their fellow-sectaries, the
subjects of Sauwar, was enlisted in behalf of those who were sufferers
in a common cause; the Muwallads of Elvira almost without exception
rose in arms; and the Arabs, expelled from the city and chased in every
direction, sought by a common impulse a temporary refuge in Granada.
The fortress of the Alhambra, a structure of remote and uncertain
antiquity, is mentioned definitely for the first time during the civil
wars of Elvira. It was known to the Arabs at least a century after
the Conquest, as Ka’lat-al-Hamra, The Red Castle, and its commanding
position and natural strength render it probable that it may have
been the site of a citadel as early as the Carthaginian occupation.
The whole of the Alhambra Hill was not enclosed, as at present, and,
at the time under consideration, the fortifications were confined to
the jutting point overlooking the present city and familiar to modern
travellers as the Alcazaba. Abandoned by the government, and uncared
for by the inhabitants, whose Jewish antecedents induced them to trust
for their safety rather to their acuteness than to their courage, the
venerable castle had fallen into decay. The repeated sieges which it
had sustained in the incessant contests between rival factions had, in
addition to the ruin produced by the effects of time and the action
of the elements, greatly diminished its capacity for resistance. In
their critical situation, where all depended on their individual
exertions,--for no hope of reinforcements could be entertained,--the
superstitious fears of the people, aided by the suggestions of a vivid
imagination, found in each trivial incident a token of propitious
or fatal augury. Fortunately for their cause, the favorable omens
preponderated on the day when the besieging force, whose numbers
amounted to twenty thousand, prepared to storm their intrenchments.
With characteristic cunning the prudent Sauwar determined to counteract
by stratagem the overwhelming superiority of his adversaries. Leaving
the citadel, and unobserved in the confusion of battle, he suddenly
appeared at the head of a picked detachment in the rear of the enemy.
Completely surprised, the latter was at once thrown into confusion;
the entire army took to flight, and the terrified renegades were
pursued to the very gates of Elvira. The Muwallad army was completely
destroyed. The entire province was in mourning. There was no household
that did not lament the absence of one or more of its number, no
soldier that did not deplore the loss of a comrade or a friend. In deep
humiliation the remnant of the renegade host prepared to defend the
capital to which but a few hours before they had expected to return
in triumph. The elation of the Arabs exhibited itself in all the
extravagant exultation peculiar to that impassioned race. The fame of
Sauwar spread to the furthest limits of the Peninsula. His exploits
were celebrated with varying partiality by the poets of both factions,
whose interesting productions often compensate for the unsatisfactory
accounts of the chronicler, and in their animated and graphic
description of important events and distinguished personages contribute
copious and invaluable information to the historian.
The disheartened members of the Muwallad faction now resolved to
place themselves under the protection of Ibn-Hafsun. As yet, they had
never asked his assistance, nor, what is even more remarkable, had
tempted his ambition or incurred his hostility. The aspiring chieftain
embraced with ardor a cause so congenial to his adventurous spirit.
With a confidence born of many victories he encountered the Arabs in
the field. The Muwallads were again defeated, however, and it was
with difficulty that Ibn-Hafsun, badly wounded, and seeing decimated
the ranks of the veterans who had been his reliance in a score of
campaigns, effected his retreat and escaped to the mountains of Ronda.
The inhabitants of Elvira eventually succeeded in accomplishing by
artifice what they had failed to do by arms, and Sauwar, lured with his
escort into an ambuscade, was slaughtered. The brutal instinct of human
nature that, foiled in its efforts against the living, finds a savage
gratification in the mutilation of the dead, was exhibited in its
most revolting aspect by the women of Elvira. With the cries of wild
beasts they tore in pieces and devoured the corpse of their persecutor.
This resort to cannibalism as a means of revenge appears to have been
frequently practised in the wars of the Arabs and of those nations
subjected to their domination. It is mentioned in the pre-Islamitic
poems and traditions. A conspicuous instance, already referred to,
occurred at the battle of Ohod. And examples are not wanting of the
preservation of a custom aggravated by the rancor resulting from
almost perpetual civil war under the Eastern and Western Khalifates,
whose violation of the decencies of life would seem sufficient to
disgust barbarians, to say nothing of nations long familiar with the
amenities of society and the requirements of a comparatively advanced
civilization.
The serious commotions which disturbed the peace of Elvira were no
isolated instances of public disorder, but rather a type of what was
afflicting the entire Peninsula. In Seville, the rebellious Arabs had
by turns united with and opposed the renegades in defiance of the
authority of the sovereign. The old metropolis of Bætica has, from
its foundation, never relinquished its proud position as the capital
of Southern Spain. Other cities have enjoyed the nominal title, but
the Queen of Andalusia has always, under Carthaginian, Roman, Goth,
and Arab, maintained an acknowledged and deserved pre-eminence. Its
natural advantages were unsurpassed. It stood in the midst of one
of the most fertile plains of Europe. The Guadalquivir brought the
treasures of the East to its gates. Long the seat of the primate of
the kingdom, its souvenirs gave it a peculiar sanctity in the eyes
of the Christian. Its business facilities attracted a numerous and
enterprising Hebrew colony. The blending of many races, the dominion
of a score of dynasties, had imparted to the disposition of its
inhabitants a peculiar character, an uncommon fertility of genius,
a phenomenal activity of intellect. To their literary talents and
stinging wit was added an inconstancy in political affiliations and
religious belief that was often a subject of reproach and scandal. With
a strange unanimity they had at the first suggestion of the substantial
benefits of apostasy renounced the truths of the gospel. A magnificent
mosque had been built to reward their subserviency, but neither the
daily practice of the rites of Islam, the adoption of the Arabic
language, nor the change of costume could eradicate those prominent
mental characteristics which had been formed by the domestic life and
time-honored traditions of twelve eventful centuries.
The same prejudices and national antagonism existed between the
Muwallad and the Arab parties at Seville as at Elvira with the notable
exception that their mutual dislike had not yet been embittered by
deeds of blood. But the dangerous proximity of lawless Arab nobles
occupying the fertile district of the Axarafe that skirted the
Guadalquivir had early suggested to the renegades the propriety
of making thorough preparations for defence. An organization had
accordingly been formed, whose members were liable to a summons for
active service, and which, in its regulations and military duties, bore
a considerable resemblance to the militia of modern times.
The acknowledged chiefs of the Sevillian aristocracy were the sheiks
of the two powerful tribes of the Beni-Khaldun and the Beni-Hadjadj.
Their estates comprised the most valuable and productive lands in the
vicinity of the Andalusian capital. In some respects the Arab prejudice
against the promotion of trade and the employment of the mechanical
arts had been relaxed, and the proud descendants of the Bedouins of
Yemen did not consider it inconsistent with their dignity to add to
their resources by the freighting of ships, the buying and selling
of merchandise, and the fabrication of weapons and armor. The wealth
derived from these profitable occupations, added to the income of their
vast plantations, enabled them to maintain a state that eclipsed even
the regal splendor of the court of Cordova. Faithful to the pastoral
traditions of their race, these princely nobles passed the greater
portion of their time at their country-seats; but they also maintained
palatial establishments in the city, whither they resorted on Fridays
to attend the services of the mosque and to dazzle the eyes and provoke
the envy and indignation of the populace by the magnificence of their
attire and the insolence of their manners.
It is proverbial that the ordinary tendency of opulence and prosperity
is rather to allay than to stimulate the passions of ambition and
independence. A notable exception to this principle existed in the
case of the Arab aristocracy of Seville. The wealthiest and most
epicurean in its tastes of any in the kingdom, it was at the same time
the most narrow, belligerent, and exclusive. The persistent evils
of the Desert--the love of warfare, the Bedouin repugnance to royal
power, which seemed to imply undue superiority on the one hand and an
appearance of servitude on the other--outweighed all considerations of
security, all the advantages of peace. This propensity to disturbance
was largely confined to those who resided in the country, where a
marked contraction of intellect and a tenacity of prejudice have
always been the well-known characteristics of those who pass their
lives amidst scenes unaffected by the collision of interests, the
bustle, the enterprise, the ever-changing panorama, of metropolitan
life. The Arabs of Seville regarded the impatience of their brethren
of the Axarafe with a disapproval which not even tribal attachment and
ancestral pride could overcome. But their numbers were small and their
influence inappreciable when compared with the great power of the rural
noble whose multitudes of slaves and vassals imparted to his seat the
appearance of the capital of a principality.
Despite all their pretensions, the blood of many of these lords
had been contaminated by an impure commerce with the infidel. The
family-tree of the Beni-Khaldun showed numerous crosses which had
greatly deteriorated the pure stock of the nobility of Hadramaut. The
Beni-Hadjadj traced their pedigree in the maternal line from the royal
family of the Visigoths. The admixture of Christian blood had, however,
no visible effect in softening their manners, and they were at heart as
lawless as the most savage Bedouin who still adored the idols of the
Age of Ignorance, and regularly plundered the caravans between Medina
and Mecca.
The head of the Arab faction at Seville was Koraib, sheik of the
Beni-Khaldun. In talent for political intrigue, in unblushing
effrontery, in bigoted devotion to what he considered the honor of
the tribe, he stood without a rival. For many years he had nursed
in secret a dream of independence, to be realized by violence and
rapine. Personal ambition does not seem to have had any part in his
plan of universal disorder. An unreasoning hatred of royalty and a mad
aspiration to restore the freedom of pre-Islamic times appear to have
been the only motives that actuated this dangerous agitator, whose
intellect was too much obscured by rancor and prejudice to perceive
that the only safeguard of his own possessions lay in the preservation
of a strong and arbitrary government.
Repulsed by his countrymen in the city, Koraib turned his attention
to the inhabitants of the suburbs. His influence was so extensive and
his cause so popular in the Axarafe that it was not long before he
found himself in a condition to take the offensive. Many influential
Arab and Berber sheiks promised their co-operation. The rich spoils of
the province of Seville were offered to the Berbers of Merida, and to
the outlaws who swarmed in the fastnesses of the Sierra Morena. The
signal given, these merciless savages poured down upon the fields and
habitations of the defenceless peasantry. With amazement and terror the
industrious farmer saw the accumulations of a lifetime swept away in a
moment, his home given to the torch, his sons butchered in cold blood,
his wife and daughters dragged into slavery. At the first appearance
of the enemy, the governor had summoned all the neighboring chieftains
to join him with their retainers. Among these was Koraib, who, in
consequence of a previous understanding with the Berbers, deserted at
a favorable opportunity. In the first encounter the rebels obtained
a complete victory, and, having plundered the country at will, they
returned to Merida, leaving the environs of Seville in the condition of
a conquered province which had undergone all the injury that barbarian
ruthlessness could inflict.
Information of this successful enterprise was soon conveyed to the
lair of every brigand and outlaw in the Peninsula. While long since
aware of the weakness of the emirate and the military incapacity of
its sovereign, the banditti had nevertheless hesitated to approach
the neighborhood of large towns like Seville, and their depredations
had been confined to isolated hamlets and the highways connecting the
provincial capitals with the seaboard. Now, however, a wider field was
opened to their indulgence of their predatory instincts. From every
quarter of the compass armed desperadoes and criminals, accustomed
from childhood to deeds of cruelty and rapine, made their way singly,
and in companies, to the province of Seville. The entire country was
laid under contribution. The peasantry abandoned their possessions and
fled with their families to the metropolis. The powerful chieftains of
Lusitania and Estramadura, who had thrown off the yoke of the emirate
but had for years been content to govern their principalities in
peaceful independence, now hastened to secure a share of the plunder.
The renegade, Ibn-Merwan, whose exploits under a preceding reign have
already been recounted, descended upon the plains of Andalusia at the
head of the fierce warriors of Badajoz.
The provincial governors, as incompetent as their master, were unable
or unwilling to repress the prevalent anarchy. That apparently hopeless
task was finally performed by Ibn-Ghalib, a Muwallad of Ecija, whose
abilities and courage in a few months restored comparative order
throughout Andalusia.
The prestige thus attained by one of the despised race that the
malevolent prejudice of party had devoted to extermination was
especially odious to the Arab aristocracy. The contest which was
raging between the rival castes for self-preservation on the one hand,
and absolute supremacy on the other, now became more sanguinary and
irreconcilable. The cities were filled with tumult. The Emir was openly
insulted. The influence of the Arab faction in the Divan prevailed in
the end, and Ibn-Ghalib was sacrificed by an act of treachery to the
hatred of his enemies through his zeal for his master’s interests.
The news of his death provoked an insurrection at Seville. The
sympathies of the people had been with him in his quarrel with the
Arab nobles. Many causes contributed to his popularity. He was a
renegade, and his political interests were identified with those
of a majority of the citizens. Large numbers of the natives of the
province had served under his banner. He had swept brigandage from the
highways. In consequence of his vigorous measures trade had revived,
and public confidence had, to a certain degree, been restored. Not only
his partisans, but even those who from policy had hitherto remained
neutral, now clamored for the heads of his murderers. The city was
in the hands of an infuriated mob. The governor was besieged in his
palace. It required all the resources of the government to suppress
the outbreak, which, for a time, threatened the most serious results.
A terrible retribution was exacted of all taken in arms, or suspected
of having accorded to the insurrection aid or sympathy. The leaders of
the Muwallad faction, the most prominent merchants of the city, were
decapitated or crucified. Many of the unfortunates who had escaped
the blind fury of the pursuit were deliberately massacred. Their
houses were abandoned to the avarice, their harems to the lust, of
the brutal soldiery. It required all the influence of leading members
of the successful party, little given to the exercise of clemency, to
check the indiscriminate slaughter of their unhappy neighbors. The
cessation of hostilities was, however, only temporary. Mutual acts of
violence renewed the deadly struggle between contending factions. The
province was at length abandoned to the Arabs by the weakness of the
court. History shrinks from the task of recording the outrages and the
tortures of barbarians inaccessible to pity and unrestrained by any
law of God or man. Suffice it to say the Muwallads of Seville were
annihilated. The memories of a catastrophe which produced a profound
impression on the politics of the Peninsula are still discernible in
the traditions and minstrelsy of the South of Spain.
The Arab faction was now triumphant. The balance of power had been
destroyed. The Christians of Cordova, persuaded that the end of the
Moslem domination was at hand, made overtures to Ibn-Hafsun, whose
former affiliations and present influence seemed to point to him as
their deliverer, an advantage which he was not slow to recognize.
The consciousness of great talents; the uniform success which had
attended his operations; the virtual control of the most opulent
provinces of the Peninsula; and the boundless, almost servile, devotion
of his followers, now prompted Ibn-Hafsun to aspire to the rights as
well as the actual possession of absolute power. With this end in view,
he sent an embassy, laden with costly presents, to the Abbaside Viceroy
of Africa, offering to become the vassal of the Eastern Khalifate
in return for the commission of Emir of Spain. The application was
forwarded to Bagdad, and Ibn-Hafsun was encouraged to expect the speedy
fulfilment of his hopes.
This ominous design had not been conducted so secretly as to escape
the knowledge of the court. Abdallah perceived at a glance the
imminent peril that menaced his throne. There was little doubt that
the consideration acquired by the vassal of the Abbasides would
at once invest with dignity and authority the renegade chieftain,
whose pretensions grounded upon force were still deficient in the
indispensable requisite of legality. The jurisdiction of the emirate
was not recognized beyond the actual confines of the capital. The
palace was infested with traitors. An active and fanatical sect was
distributed throughout the city conveying secret information to the
enemy, and impatiently expecting the moment when they might exact
retribution at once for the humiliation of conquest and the wrongs of
persecution. In his extremity the Emir endeavored, but in vain, to
conciliate his foe. Foiled in this attempt, he resolved to risk an
appeal to arms. His decision was heard by the Divan with unconcealed
dismay, but their remonstrances were unheeded. In the abject nature
of Abdallah, degraded by superstition and haunted by the memory of
atrocious crimes, an heroic sentiment, born of despair, had at last
arisen. When intelligence of his determination to substitute for the
pusillanimous policy he had hitherto employed the hazardous experiment
of the sword was conveyed to Ibn-Hafsun, his surprise was provoked
to the point of incredulity. But when he was told that the advance
guard of the hostile troops was in motion, and that the royal pavilion
had been pitched in the plain of Secunda to await the arrival of the
sovereign, he no longer doubted the truth of a report which seemed to
be a certain presage of victory. The insurgent army mustered thirty
thousand strong. It was composed of veterans who knew no home but the
camp, no pleasure but the excitement of battle, no law but the command
of their general. The royal force, on the other hand, numbered scarce
fourteen thousand men. One-third of these were the guards of the Emir;
the remainder was composed of raw recruits whose courage and fidelity
could not be depended upon in the hour of trial.
The two armies met near Aguilar. Whatever hesitation the inexperienced
soldiers of the emirate may have previously manifested, none flinched
in the presence of the enemy. Their courage was nerved to desperation
when they remembered that defeat meant death, for Ibn-Hafsun never
gave quarter. The efforts of the combatants were encouraged by the
exhortations of the imams and the prelates, who fearlessly exposed
their unprotected persons in the thickest of the fight. The rebel
lines were broken by the furious charge of Abdallah’s troops. Once
in confusion, they could not be rallied, and, dispersed in every
direction, they fell by thousands under the weapons of their pursuers.
Their leader, having narrowly escaped capture, with difficulty
succeeded in reaching his mountain stronghold.
An abundant and acceptable supply of arms, treasure, and munitions of
war came into the possession of Abdallah by the capture of Aguilar. A
thousand renegade Christians who preferred death to a second apostasy
were beheaded. The moral effect of the victory was important and
wide-spread. Ecija was taken after a short resistance. Archidona
and Jaen voluntarily implored the clemency of the conqueror. The
Viceroy of Africa notified the discomfited renegade at Bobastro that
his pretensions to the Spanish Emirate, under the auspices of the
Khalifate of Bagdad, could no longer be entertained. The friends of
order of every faction--the nobles, the merchants, the proprietors of
large estates, the artisans, and the peasantry--for a moment regained
confidence in a cause which they had recently considered as hopelessly
lost.
This flattering prospect was, however, soon clouded by fresh disasters.
The reverse sustained by Ibn-Hafsun was temporary, and had not
seriously affected either his popularity or power. With little effort
he succeeded, in a measure, in re-establishing his authority. The lost
cities were retaken through treachery or by force. The royal governors
were decapitated, as an intimation to the monarch that his appointees
were to be classed as rebels, the servants of a usurper. The Arab party
of Granada was beaten in a great battle, and its influence forever
destroyed. The reviving fortunes of Ibn-Hafsun had produced a strong
reaction in his favor when his renunciation of Islamism--an act of
mistaken policy which, without gaining the respect of the Christians,
made him an object of aversion to every Mussulman--effected greater
injury to his cause than a score of defeats could have accomplished.
The last nine years of Abdallah’s life were the least turbulent
of his reign. The substantial aid afforded by the Arab nobles, at
last convinced of their dependence on the crown, had restored the
languishing authority of the emirate.
Radical changes had been produced in the political complexion and
social condition of the Peninsula by a generation of civil war.
Factions had been practically exterminated. All the great leaders, save
one, had been removed by age, disease, or assassination. The motive
of the original sedition had long been forgotten. Religion had become
the nominal incentive to hostility. The enthusiasm of the clansman
aspiring to independence had been supplanted by the avarice of the
brigand eager for rapine. The general character of the subjects of
the emirate had undergone a complete metamorphosis. They had lost the
ferocious and uncompromising spirit of their ancestors. They were no
longer oppressed by the tyranny of the monarch, whose helplessness and
imbecility everywhere provoked public contempt. The enmity with which
the members of opposing parties regarded each other was rather apparent
than real. Their military operations were languidly prosecuted. Their
encounters were often bloodless. Familiarity with disorder induced
many to consider it the natural condition of society. The vitality of
the royal power seemed proof against all the resources of treason and
violence. Thousands of lives had been sacrificed in futile attempts to
overturn a government whose support rested neither upon the valor of
its soldiery, the genius of its statesmen, nor the affections of its
people.
The sober sense of the masses, chastened by misfortune, eventually
caused them to reflect upon the advantages of submission to authority
and the restoration of order. Insubordination had brought nothing but
distress. The great works of the founders of the dynasty--souvenirs of
former prosperity and renown--were everywhere around them. Principles
of vital importance to their forefathers were but meaningless names to
the present generation. These considerations first affected communities
whose commercial interests were seriously involved. A number of the
provincial capitals voluntarily returned to their allegiance. Gradually
other towns followed their example. Even in the mountain fastnesses
the spirit of returning loyalty began to assert itself. Anarchy and
exhaustion effected what force was powerless to accomplish, and the
close of the administration of one of the worst of Moslem princes was
characterized by a degree of tranquillity unknown to those of many of
his race eminently distinguished for their genius and their virtues.
During all these internal commotions, the peace existing between the
courts of Oviedo and Cordova was never broken by hostilities of a
serious character, a circumstance that contributed largely to the
preservation of the Moslem empire. Everything seemed to indicate at
least a respite from the evils that had so long afflicted the people
and harassed the government, when Abdallah suddenly expired, in the
sixty-ninth year of his age.
The relation of the monotonous and sanguinary events of this period is
valuable, in a philosophical point of view, in determining the real
causes of the decadence of the Mohammedan power in Western Europe.
The chronicle of the reign of Abdallah, the Emir, is in reality the
story of Ibn-Hafsun, the renegade. Yet this enterprising partisan was
indebted for his fame far less to his own abilities, conspicuous as
they were, than to the disputes and jealousies of his enemies. These
effects of tribal prejudice made possible the organization of a troop
of banditti that a single squadron of cavalry, properly directed,
would have been sufficient to disperse. The spirit of insubordination
became contagious; the governors of remote provinces threw off their
allegiance; the sources of public revenue were obstructed; repeated
disasters shook the precarious loyalty of powerful chieftains,
whose barbaric traditions deluded them with the fallacious hope of
independence; the fires of religious discord were kindled in every
community; and the government, deprived of its subjects, seemed
repeatedly on the verge of dissolution. The character of the sovereign
was, in a measure, responsible for many of the most serious disasters
of his reign. It possessed no qualities that could inspire the respect
or elicit the approbation of either friend or foe. Abdallah was a
miserable compound of hypocrite and poltroon. His title had been
obtained by fratricide. The crime had been attended with circumstances
which heightened its atrocity. Popular rumor attributed to him the
murder of two of his sons. Without faith, he betrayed in turn both his
allies and his enemies. He neglected the appeals of devoted adherents
whose fidelity had long been proof against temptation. He suffered
himself to be deceived by the representations of rebels whom experience
had shown to be wholly devoid of truth and honor. He possessed neither
the capacity of the general nor the courage which is an indispensable
attribute of the common soldier. His impiety was so universally
recognized that it was the favorite theme of satirical poets, and
even the imams frequently omitted to mention his name in the khotba,
or public prayer. Little wonder was it that, under such a ruler, the
Emirate of Cordova should have reached the lowest point in its fortunes
to which it was reduced before its final overthrow. The authority of
the crown was everywhere disputed. The great cities,--Seville, Cadiz,
Toledo, Jaen, Granada, Valencia, Saragossa,--whose power and glory
had been the pride of former ages, no longer sent their rich tributes
to the capital on the Guadalquivir. The slumbers of the citizens of
Cordova were nightly disturbed by the shrieks of peasants dying under
the weapons of banditti, and by the lurid glare of burning villages
that lighted up the landscape with the brilliancy of noon-day. Traffic
disappeared from the highways. The markets were empty and deserted.
The prevalent insecurity had suspended the operations of agriculture,
and the necessaries of life became luxuries attainable only by the
rich. In many localities famine-stricken wretches fed, with ghastly
satisfaction, upon the bodies of their friends and neighbors. These
deplorable conditions were aggravated by the denunciations and
prophecies of the ministers of religion, who, with characteristic
audacity, shifted the blame for public misfortune upon those who were
in reality its victims, and called down upon the heads of a sinful and
pleasure-loving people the long-deferred but inexorable wrath of an
avenging God.