REIGN OF AL-HAKEM II.
961–976
Splendid Ceremonial at the Accession of Al-Hakem
II.--His Wise and Prudent Measures--Ordoño seeks an
Audience--His Baseness--Successful Expedition against the
Christians--Disturbances in Africa--Army of the Khalif
Defeated--The Berber Chieftains are corrupted, and their
Forces disband--Importance of Cordova as a Religious
Centre--Description of the Great Mosque--Death of Al-Hakem--His
Literary Attainments--His Patronage of Letters--The
Library--Institutions of Learning--General Prevalence of
Education--Public Improvements--The Khalif the Exemplar of the
Highest Culture of his Age--Prosperity of the Empire.
At the death of Abd-al-Rahman III. the Hispano-Arab empire seemed,
to all unfamiliar with the defects of the Moslem constitution,
invulnerable to the attacks of foreign or domestic enemies. The wise
dispositions of that accomplished ruler had, for a time, reconciled
the differences arising from tribal antipathy and religious discord.
The employment of mercenaries, constituting an army which could not be
corrupted, and whose isolation from the seditious populace was the most
effectual guaranty of its fidelity, apparently assured the perpetuity
of a system which a profound and statesmanlike policy had established.
The administration was directed by capable and experienced ministers.
The public revenues far exceeded in amount those of the wealthiest
contemporaneous nations. Obedient to the law of political attraction,
which like gravity in the material world draws the weaker to the
stronger power, neighboring kingdoms, although separated from the
khalifate by the most powerful motives that can influence humanity--by
the antagonism of race, by the prejudices of religion, by the memory
of generations of incessant warfare, by hostile traditions which
involved the loss of an empire and the subjection of its people--had
acknowledged the supremacy of the Ommeyade princes. In the humiliating
character of suppliants for the favor of an hereditary foe, the
sovereigns of Leon and Navarre had implored the aid of the infidel,
and the former of these had regained possession of his dominions under
a treaty which implied, if it did not actually express, conditions of
vassalage reflecting little credit upon the successor of the haughty
Visigoths. Every consideration which contributes to inspire the
respect and admiration of mankind lent its assistance to exalt the
fame and greatness of the court of Cordova. The most distinguished
monarchs solicited the friendship of the Khalif. His capital was the
literary centre of the Western world. The intellectual activity there
displayed had never been equalled since the glorious days when Grecian
genius immortalized the schools of Ionia and Attica. The Moslem fleets
controlled the Mediterranean. The mechanical arts, the science of
agriculture, the various branches of foreign commerce and domestic
traffic, had, under a well-grounded feeling of public security,
received a prodigious and unexampled impulse. It was, therefore, under
the most happy auspices that Al-Hakem, at the age of forty-eight, with
a character long considered the embodiment of all princely virtues,
assumed the supreme direction of affairs.
On the day following the death of Abd-al-Rahman, the accession of his
son was celebrated with greater splendor than had yet distinguished
this important function since the foundation of the Western empire.
Magnificently attired, the great officers of the khalifate attended to
swear allegiance to the new sovereign. After the members of the royal
family, the chief officials, the ministers of, state, the kadis, and
the chamberlains had taken the oath, they administered it, in turn,
to the host of retainers and subordinates of the royal household. The
pomp displayed on this occasion was worthy of the most powerful, the
most opulent, and the most luxurious monarchy in Europe. The ceremony
was held under the central pavilion of the palace of Medina-al-Zahrâ,
whose decorations, sparkling in the sunlight, seemed to realize
the gorgeous dreams of Oriental enchantment. The eight brothers of
Al-Hakem were escorted to the palace with all the honors due to their
rank; but it could not escape the notice of those princes that the
strong guard which surrounded them, and lined the entrance of their
apartments, was less a manifestation of respect than a menacing
precaution against treason. The viziers, invested with their robes
and insignia of office, and the nobles took up their positions behind
the members of the Khalif’s family, who stood on either side of the
throne. Beyond them, crowding the ample space of the rotunda and even
filling the adjacent apartments, were the imperial magistrates, the
generals of the army, the provincial governors, and the vast crowd of
public functionaries summoned from the capital as well as from the
neighboring cities of Andalusia to render homage to and assist at the
inauguration of the Commander of the Faithful. The eunuchs, that class
of monsters which has always sought indemnity for its degradation by
the acquisition of power and wealth, which has never failed to revenge
itself upon society by the ruin of the government which tolerated
its institution, and whose preponderance in the political system of
the khalifate had become portentous and appalling, were present by
thousands. They were marshalled according to nationality, rank, and the
nature of the service to which they were assigned. Most of them were
clad in white tunics embroidered with gold, white being at the same
time the distinctive color and the badge of mourning of the Ommeyades.
The servitors of the harem were drawn up in the hall leading to the
audience-chamber; they were both white and black; all were sheathed in
shining armor inlaid with gold and silver, and the hilts and scabbards
of their scimetars sparkled with costly gems. The marble terrace by
which the pavilion was approached was guarded by Sclavonians splendidly
mounted, whose arms and equipments were not inferior in richness to
those of the magnificent array within. Outside, and reaching to the
gate of the capital, were ranged, in exact and motionless order, the
royal archers, the slaves, and the various divisions of the garrison.
The imposing ceremonial concluded, the remains of Abd-al-Rahman were
committed to the tomb. The active mind of Al-Hakem was at once applied
to the consideration of the details which concerned the administration
of every department of his empire. The ministers of his father were
confirmed, without exception. Officials were despatched to exact
the allegiance of the walis of distant provinces. The troops were
reviewed, and a general inspection of the army ordered. A hajib,
or prime minister, was appointed, for the tastes of Al-Hakem were
inclined rather to the quiet and refining pursuits of literature
than to official drudgery and the responsibilities incident to the
administration of a great and turbulent monarchy. In this respect he
ignored the oft-repeated counsels of his father, who, conscious of the
vast power wielded by a hajib, and which, in the hands of an ambitious
and unscrupulous statesman, might be attended with disastrous
consequences, had endeavored to impress upon his heir the policy, and
even the necessity, of retaining unimpaired the authority conferred by
the exalted office of Commander of Believers. The individual selected
for this important post was Giafar-al-Asklabi, a Slave, whose caste
and nationality seemed to Al-Hakem a sufficient warrant for his good
behavior, an opinion subsequently justified by the wisdom and tact he
displayed in the discharge of his official duties. His appointment was
followed, according to the custom of the court, by the delivery of a
magnificent present to the Khalif, consisting, in this instance, of
richly apparelled slaves, and arms and armor inlaid with gold.
The news of the death of Abd-al-Rahman had been received with pretended
grief and secret delight by the sovereigns of Leon and Navarre. The
prestige of the former Khalif, and his ability to enforce his demands,
had been repeatedly demonstrated by the eventful transactions of his
long and glorious reign. The blackened fields and dismantled castles
of the frontier, the heaps of bones bleaching on many a battle-field,
bore silent but conclusive testimony to his ruthless hostility and to
the prowess of his armies. But the character of his successor was,
as yet, undeveloped. A life already advanced beyond middle age had
been distinguished by none of those martial deeds which elicit the
applause of a subject and awaken the respect and the apprehensions of
an enemy. The predilections of the new Khalif for a sedentary life, and
his intimate relations with the learned, were viewed with contempt by
the barbarous Christians, who considered war as the peculiar calling
of a man of spirit, and the acquisition of knowledge as only fit for
monks, an order whose pacific occupations did not, nevertheless,
exclude even its members from the profession of arms. In those early
times, while not as yet expressly sanctioned by the authority of the
Papacy, the violation of an engagement made with the enemies of the
Church was already considered a meritorious action, to be governed
rather by motives of expediency than by any considerations of morality
and national honor. The treaty, by which Sancho had stipulated to
deliver to the Khalif a certain number of fortresses in return for the
restoration of his crown, had not been carried out by the King of Leon.
The temptation to violate it, or at least to elude its performance,
now became irresistible. To the demands of Al-Hakem, Sancho returned
evasive and temporizing answers. The King of Navarre, doubtless acting
in collusion with his neighbor, was even less tractable. Ferdinand
Gonzalez, who had fallen into the hands of the latter, was held a close
prisoner at Pampeluna, and the Khalif, who was anxious, at all hazards,
to obtain possession of the person of this formidable adversary,
promised to abate a portion of his demands in case Garcia would agree
to send his illustrious captive to Cordova. The King of Navarre not
only refused, but actually liberated the Count of Castile, with the
understanding that he should expel his son-in-law, Ordoño IV., who had
sought a refuge at Burgos, and should at once declare war against the
Khalif. Ferdinand promptly fulfilled his engagements. The unfortunate
Ordoño was torn from his family and ignominiously driven across the
border; at his summons to arms the old warriors of the Count flocked
to his standard, and the settlements of Estremadura and Andalusia,
long accustomed to peace, once more experienced the deplorable evils
of partisan hostility. Accompanied by only a score of retainers, who,
of all his numerous retinue, were all that were willing to share his
uncertain fortunes, Ordoño, journeying through the enemy’s country,
reached the city of Medina-Celi. Here, as in all the empire, the
streets resounded with the din of arms, for Al-Hakem, convinced that
the respect of the Christians could only be preserved by a display of
force, was everywhere making active preparations for war. The spirit
of the royal fugitive rose at the inspiring sight, and, hoping that
by proper management the military successes of Al-Hakem might be made
to enure to his own advantage, he requested of the governor of the
city a safe-conduct to Cordova and permission to place himself under
the protection of the Khalif. His wish was readily acceded to, and a
troop of cavalry was detailed to escort him to the capital. The route
passing near the royal cemetery, Ordoño asked to be shown the tomb of
Abd-al-Rahman III. This having been done, he dismounted, uncovered his
head, and, kneeling by the grave of the monarch who in life had been
his most inveterate enemy, he prayed long and fervently for the repose
and welfare of his soul. A few days afterwards he was received by the
Khalif in the palace of Medina-al-Zahrâ. As a token of respect and
an evidence of vassalage, he was required to assume the white robes
of the Ommeyades. Obeydallah-Ibn-Kasim, Archbishop of Toledo, and
Walid-Ibn-Khaizoran, Judge of the Christians of Cordova, whose Arabic
names seem strangely at variance with the offices they administered,
escorted him to the audience-chamber; their presence being necessary,
both as interpreters and to afford information on points of etiquette
rigorously exacted by the punctilious court of Cordova, and concerning
which it was justly conjectured the former associations of a barbarian
ruler had left him entirely unacquainted.
The introduction of the Christian prince was attended with the pomp
ordinarily displayed at the reception of the greatest kings and their
ambassadors. The body-guard of the Khalif was drawn up in all the
panoply of gleaming weapons and costly armor. The officials were
present in their robes of state. Around the throne were ranged the
princes and the officers of the royal household. An innumerable army
of subordinates filled the halls and lined the terraces. Through the
gilded lattices of the harem, which overlooked the hall of audience,
the sheen of jewels and the sparkle of bright eyes occasionally
revealed the presence of the beauties whom Oriental jealousy only on
rare occasions permitted to lend the lustre of their charms to an
important ceremony.
The Leonese nobles and their king moved with downcast heads through
the grim and lowering ranks of the soldiery, whose fierce looks so
terrified them that they endeavored to fortify themselves by the
recitation of prayers and frequent repetitions of the sign of the
cross. After numerous genuflexions Ordoño approached the Khalif,
who gave him his hand to kiss. He was conducted to a seat at some
distance from the throne, and received from Al-Hakem the flattering
assurance that even more favors than he desired would be accorded to
him. It was then that the unspeakable baseness of Ordoño’s character
disclosed itself. He had frequently since his entrance into the Moorish
dominions given evidence of a lack of royal dignity and of a total
absence of those manly qualities which elicit sympathy for greatness
in misfortune. He had courted the favor of the commander of the escort
which had accompanied him to the capital, by flattery, by gifts, by
the most ignoble concessions. With an hypocrisy that did not impose
upon the keen-witted Andalusians, he had bowed in well-feigned grief
before the tomb of Abd-al-Rahman. With a sycophancy that disgusted
the objects of it, he had fawned upon the officials of the court. But
the time was now come when these disgraceful exhibitions of voluntary
self-abasement were to be eclipsed, and the depth of his degradation
attained. As soon as the speech of Al-Hakem had been translated to
him, without making allowance for the courtly exaggeration it implied,
he arose and said: “I am the slave of the Commander of the Faithful;
I trust in his magnanimity; I seek my support in his lofty virtues; I
give him full power over me and mine!” He then, in language worthy only
of the meanest vassal, begged the aid of the Khalif in the recovery
of his throne, and, in conclusion, contrasted his own voluntary
submission with the conduct of his cousin Sancho, who had been
compelled by Abd-al-Rahman to render him homage as a condition of the
treaty. Al-Hakem listened with ill-concealed contempt to his harangue,
promised that all his wishes should be fulfilled, and that he should
be guaranteed. against molestation from his enemies. The interview
terminated, the eunuchs escorted the Leonese from the pavilion. Ordoño
displayed little less servility towards the Vizier Giafar than he had
shown to his master, and was with difficulty prevented from kissing the
hand of that dignitary. Having perceived in an antechamber a seat which
he was informed was sometimes used by the Khalif, he grovelled before
it with as much apparent reverence as if it had been a sacred reliquary
of the most undoubted virtue.
A splendid palace was assigned as a residence to the King and his
suite; they were all clothed with robes of honor,--a mark of the
highest distinction among Orientals,--and a number of valuable presents
sent from the court further assured them of the generous sympathy of
their benefactor. In a few days a treaty was concluded, by which Ordoño
pledged himself to maintain peace with Al-Hakem and perpetual war with
the Count of Castile. The flower of the Moorish troops, commanded by
Ghalib, the ablest of the imperial generals, was ordered to make the
campaign, and the Archbishop of Toledo and the Bishop and the Judge of
Cordova were designated to accompany the army, not so much to assist
the pusillanimous monarch by their counsels as to carefully note his
behavior, and see that he was guilty of nothing that could contribute
to the injury of the Khalif, or even remotely affect in an unfavorable
manner the objects of his ambition.
In the mean time Sancho had taken the alarm. When he learned of the
success of Ordoño, he realized that he had presumed too much upon
the peaceful disposition and epicurean tastes of Al-Hakem. It was no
secret that a powerful army was mustering to invade his dominions. By
the artifices of the enemy, its numbers were purposely multiplied.
His popularity had never been great, and his restoration had been
accomplished by means abhorrent to a large number of his subjects.
Many of his vassals could not be depended upon. The great province
of Galicia, a fief of the crown of Leon, refused to acknowledge his
title, and its count held language that indicated that he only sought
a favorable opportunity to declare himself independent. Under the
circumstances but one course was open to Sancho, and he sent an embassy
to Cordova to state that he was willing to perform, without delay, the
conditions of the treaty he had concluded with Abd-al-Rahman.
The duplicity of Al-Hakem, a defect happily rare in the annals of
his race and which reflects such discredit upon his name, now became
apparent. He violated, without compunction, the compact he had made
with Ordoño. The latter, overcome with disappointment and mortification
at the failure of his hopes, gave himself up to melancholy, and died
the victim of his own abasement and credulity in the gilded prison
which had been set apart as his abode in the environs of the Moslem
capital.
His rival removed, and the alliance of Ferdinand Gonzalez assured,
Sancho concluded that the occasion was most opportune for a further
repudiation of his engagements. He accordingly defied the Khalif, and
the latter at once proclaimed the Holy War. The army of invasion was
commanded by Ghalib. The Count of Castile was defeated in a great
battle. The governor of Saragossa, Yahya-Ibn-Mohammed, easily worsted
the King of Navarre. The important fortresses of San Estevan de Gormaz
and Calahorra, which had been stormed and destroyed, were rebuilt,
provided with Moorish garrisons, and added to the dominions of the
khalifate. The Arab army wasted the borders of Catalonia with fire and
sword; for two counts of that principality, Miron and Borel, endowed
with more hardihood than discretion, had been prevailed upon by the
King of Navarre to join the confederacy, and were now condemned to
expiate their breach of faith by the pillage of their cities and the
misery of their subjects. Everywhere the arms of the Moslems were
triumphant. The enemies who had confidently reckoned on the incapacity
and inertness supposed to attach to a literary life, and the well-known
aversion of Al-Hakem to the military profession, were compelled to
acknowledge the wisdom of his dispositions and the energy with which
he carried them into execution. One after another sued for peace. Even
from distant Galicia came an embassy, headed by a noble matron, the
mother of a count, who was entertained with the distinguished courtesy
for which the court of Cordova was famous, and was dismissed with gifts
whose splendor dazzled the eyes of a barbarian princess born and bred
amidst the barren slopes and poverty-stricken hamlets of the Pyrenees.
This successful campaign closed the military operations of Al-Hakem
in the North. He had taught his perfidious adversaries a severe but
salutary lesson. Whatever inclination to renew hostilities they might
have entertained, their own dissensions precluded its indulgence.
War soon broke out between Galicia and Leon. The rebellious province,
which aspired to independence, was in a fair way to be conquered,
when a resort to treachery accomplished an end unattainable by the
expedients of honorable warfare. Poison was administered to Sancho at
a conference on the banks of the Douro. The King of Leon died after
some days in excruciating agony; his son Ramiro, who succeeded him,
was a child of five years, and the martial aristocracy declined to
recognize the authority of an infant, controlled by his aunt, the nun
Elvira, whose doubtful qualifications for the government of a kingdom
had been acquired in the solitude of a cloister. Elsewhere, also, in
the North, matters were propitious to the security and prosperity of
the khalifate. A great army of Danes, who had served under the standard
of the Duke of Normandy, poured down upon and devastated the plains
and valleys of Galicia. Finally, the death of Ferdinand Gonzalez freed
Al-Hakem from his most dangerous enemy, and during the remainder of his
life the inroads of the Christians ceased to excite the alarm of his
subjects or to disturb the peace of his empire.
While permanent safety had been secured in the North, on the side of
Africa the danger was constant and menacing. The wild tribes of the
Desert had never forgotten with what facility their forefathers had
traversed the strait and subjugated a populous and extensive monarchy.
The covetous eye of the half-naked Mauritanian robber, whose prowess
had at times prevailed over the discipline of the Roman legions, was
ever turned towards the beautiful cities of Andalusia, with their
teeming bazaars, their prodigious wealth, their palaces furnished
with every appliance of luxury, their lovely and fascinating women.
The instinct of conquest, the presentiment that one day the exploit
of Tarik would be repeated, were inspired by hope and encouraged
by tradition. It was not the masses alone who cherished these
ominous aspirations. The princes of the various dynasties who, at
different periods of its history, swayed the destinies of Al-Maghreb,
had, without exception, regarded the riches of the Peninsula as
lawful spoil, if not actually as a part of their patrimony. Its
condition--political, social, religious, commercial--was as familiar to
them as the domestic polity of their own dominions. Their spies were
to be found in the great emporiums of trade, in the most sequestered
hamlets, in the ranks of the army, in the corridors of the palace,
even in the bed-chamber of the khalif. Unknown and often unsuspected,
their influence had been felt in many a bloody insurrection, in the
decisive moment of many an eventful day. Never for a moment did they
abandon the long-nourished project of conquest; never did they renounce
the ambition--destined unhappily to be realized--of planting their
victorious banners and erecting their throne on the banks of the
famous Guadalquivir. Since the assumption of the suzerainty of the
African provinces bordering on the Mediterranean by Abd-al-Rahman, the
maintenance of that dignity had caused no inconsiderable drain on the
treasury of the khalifate. Immense sums were annually transmitted to
maintain troops, to support the pretensions of feeble vassals, and to
bribe barbarian chieftains to refrain from ravaging the lands of their
neighbors. No compensation was offered for the expense incurred except
the negative and uncertain one implied by the temporary restraint of
Berber invasion.
The attention of the Fatimites had been some years before directed
towards the East, and, after a short and victorious struggle, the
princes of that dynasty were enabled to remove the seat of their empire
from the sandy plains of Mauritania to the inexhaustible Valley of
the Nile. A great danger to the Ommeyade Empire of Spain was therefore
apparently removed. At this time, Hassan-Ibn-Kenun, the last survivor
of the Edrisites, exercised a precarious sovereignty over that portion
of the African coast of which Tangier was the capital. A nominal vassal
of Al-Hakem, his loyalty was largely dependent upon the fears excited
by the encroachments of his neighbors, and when Abu-al-Fotuh, the
representative of the Fatimites, invaded his dominions, the allegiance
of Ibn-Kenun was, without hesitation, transferred to the Khalif of
Egypt.
The revolt of Ibn-Kenun, and the alarming progress made by the
Fatimite viceroy, impressed upon Al-Hakem the necessity for immediate
and decisive action. With his customary diligence, he issued orders
for the departure of a strong military and naval force to punish the
treason of his vassal and overawe the fickle and perfidious chieftains
of Africa. The object of the expedition was Tangier, the seat of the
court and the residence of Ibn-Kenun. The Ommeyade fleet blockaded the
harbor, and the troops, having encountered the enemy near the city,
after a sharp engagement gained a decisive victory. But this success
was of short duration. In the land of Al-Maghreb, swarming with active
and warlike barbarians, the recruiting of an army was a matter of
trifling difficulty. The Desert hordes, allured by the expectation of
plunder and the excitement of arms, crowded to the camp of the Edrisite
prince, who soon found himself once more able to tempt the fortunes of
war. Another battle was fought; the troops of the Khalif sustained a
demoralizing defeat; their general, Ibn-Tomlos, was left dead on the
field, and the survivors who escaped the spears of the Mauritanian
cavalry sought security behind the battlements of Tangier. The effect
produced by this victory on the venal and inconstant people of Africa
was serious. The reputation and the power of Ibn-Kenun received an
extraordinary impulse. The petty vassals who for years had enjoyed
the bounty of the Khalif hastened to renounce their allegiance. From
far and near, along the sandy highways towards the camp of Ibn-Kenun,
trooped the ferocious tribesmen whom no prince had yet been able to
conciliate, and no government been able to civilize. No territory,
except that occupied by a few fortified towns, remained loyal to
Al-Hakem; even these places were in a state of siege; and it was
evident that, unless energetic measures were taken to retrieve the
disaster, the war-cry of the Berbers would soon be heard on the plains
of Andalusia.
The Khalif was not unconscious of his danger. From every province of
his dominions he summoned his bravest troops and his most experienced
generals. The supreme command was entrusted to Ghalib, whose skill
and valor had been signalized in the recent campaign against the
Christians, and who was solemnly admonished, on peril of his life,
to return victorious. It was not, however, to the uncertain event
of battle that the Khalif unreservedly committed the destinies of
his empire. The mercenary character of the Berber sheiks, always the
partisans of him who bribed them most liberally, or who bribed them
last, was what Al-Hakem depended upon, far more than upon either the
tactics of his general or the courage of his soldiers. A great treasure
was placed at the disposal of Ghalib, and he was instructed to spare no
pains to detach from the army of Ibn-Kenun every chief of influence,
without regard to the numbers of his following or the extravagance
of his demands. In case he succeeded, he was ordered to conduct the
family of Ibn-Kenun to Cordova. Having landed in safety, Ghalib
studiously avoided a general engagement. His advance was impeded by
the flying squadrons of Ibn-Kenun, who used every artifice to bring
on a battle; but the cautious Ommeyade general, knowing that the fate
of his sovereign, as well as his own life, depended on the issue of a
conflict, had decided to trust to the secret and more certain means
of corruption. Through the medium of trusty messengers, magnificent
weapons, costly garments, and heaps of gold were clandestinely
displayed before the greedy eyes of the Berber chieftains. Their
constancy was not proof against this exhibition of wealth. They even
competed for the infamous distinction of first deserting the standard
of their commander; and, in a few days, Ibn-Kenun, abandoned by all but
a handful of his old retainers, saw himself compelled to take refuge
in a strong castle built on the summit of an isolated mountain called
the Eagle’s Rock, where he had, in prudent anticipation of a reverse of
fortune, already conveyed his harem and his treasures.
The drafts of Ghalib on the royal treasury excited the astonishment and
consternation of the Khalif. Such enormous expenses had never before
been incurred in the conduct of a campaign; and Al-Hakem, suspecting
that all of the public money had not been used to corrupt the Berbers,
and that much of it had been diverted into private hands, determined,
for the purpose of investigation, to send an officer experienced in
matters of finance and clothed with almost despotic authority, who
should not be confined to the mere duties of treasurer, but should
also exercise the high and responsible functions of a general and a
councillor of state. The individual selected for this delicate mission
was Ibn-abi-Amir, a name of both glorious and sinister associations,
which now appears for the first time in the annals of the Hispano-Arab
domination. He was accompanied by a select body of troops commanded by
Yahya-Ibn-Mohammed, Viceroy of the Northern Frontier, whom Al-Hakem,
still fearful of the issue of the African campaign, had sent to
reinforce the army of Ghalib.
The siege of the rebel fortress was pushed with energy, but its
defences were so formidable that four months elapsed before the
garrison could be brought to terms. Then the most favorable conditions
were granted; the personal safety of the soldiers was guaranteed and
their property kept inviolate; and the main article of the instructions
of Al-Hakem, touching the conveyance of the Edrisites to Cordova, was
acceded to, though not without manifest reluctance, which, however, was
of little moment under circumstances where protest and resistance were
equally unavailing. With the capture of the Eagle’s Rock terminated
the campaign in Africa. The remaining Edrisite princes, who had seen
with dismay the sudden disappearance of the host of Ibn-Kenun, lost no
time in making terms with the representatives of the Khalif. The entire
region of Mauritania enjoyed a profound but delusive peace. The Berbers
had retired to their solitudes to enjoy the reward of their treason,
and to watch for another opportunity to dispose of their services
to the highest bidder. The Fatimites, content with their recent
acquisitions, left the administration of their African possessions to a
viceroy, and, fascinated with the attractions of their new home on the
Nile, did not seem, for the moment, desirous of prosecuting any further
schemes of imperial aggrandizement.
Ghalib, escorting his illustrious prisoners, more than seventy in
number, now returned to Cordova. From the hour of his landing at
Algeziras, his march assumed the appearance of a military triumph.
The line of march was obstructed by the throngs that, attracted by
the novelty of the spectacle, had assembled from far and near. Every
town and hamlet through which the cavalcade passed rang with the
exultant shouts of a vast and excited multitude. The rich attire of
the captives; their noble and dignified bearing; the romance attaching
to the story of the foundation of their house; their descent from
the family of the Prophet, certainly remote and probably fictitious,
provoked the curiosity, if it did not excite the sympathy, of the
elated populace, who only saw in their humiliation another addition
to the glory of their sovereign. When the capital was approached,
the Khalif came forth to meet the guard and their prisoners. As soon
as his presence was known, Ibn-Kenun dismounted, knelt before him,
and kissed his hand. Ghalib and his officers were received with all
the honors due to men who under arduous circumstances have achieved
success; the princes were conducted to a fortified palace in the city,
and their attendants distributed in different localities, where their
safe-keeping could be assured; the body-guard of the chief, consisting
of seven hundred warriors of approved valor, was incorporated into a
division of the army, and Al-Hakem could now congratulate himself that
his decision and energy had compelled the respect of his enemies and
had procured for his dominions the benefits of universal peace.
The inconstancy of fortune did not, however, permit the Khalif long
to enjoy the leisure and the satisfaction to be derived from the
indulgence of his literary tastes and the triumph of his arms. His
health, impaired by intense and constant application to study, broke
down. An attack of apoplexy admonished him that he must renounce the
cares of state, and the conduct of the government was henceforth
committed to his vizier Moshafi. The latter, a veteran and accomplished
statesman, signalized his advent to uncontrolled power by the
institution of many radical and greatly needed reforms. The department
of finance, which had become the seat of corruption, was reorganized
and administered with prudence and economy. The discipline of the army
was improved. The former viceroy of the northern frontier, the gallant
Yahya-Ibn-Mohammed, was recalled from command in Africa and reinstated
in his former office, a measure that insured the tranquillity of the
Christian states, which had recently developed symptoms of agitation,
in several instances culminating in acts of open and destructive
hostility. The interests of the Khalif in Mauritania were confirmed
by the appointment of two native princes whose fidelity could be
depended upon; and, by this stroke of policy, the vizier was enabled
to remove all the Arab troops, except the garrisons of a few cities,
to points where their services would be far more advantageous to the
government, and, at the same time, less expensive to the treasury.
The entertainment of the Edrisites, who maintained a pomp little
inferior to that of the royal family itself, was a source of constant
perplexity and annoyance to the economical minister. At length,
profiting by the discontent induced by a sedentary life and a vigilant
espionage ill-disguised under an appearance of liberty, he succeeded
in persuading Ibn-Kenun to allow himself and his followers to be
transported to Tunis, with the understanding that they should never
again set foot on the soil of Mauritania. When the preparations for
departure had been completed, the thrifty vizier partially indemnified
the treasury for the expense caused by the involuntary guests of the
Khalif by unceremoniously appropriating a large piece of ambergris,
of immense value, which Ibn-Kenun considered the most precious object
of all his possessions. After landing at Tunis, the exiles proceeded
to Alexandria, where for many years they enjoyed the hospitality and
protection of the Fatimite Khalif. From this time the princes of the
Edrisite family are no longer prominent in the revolutions of Northern
Africa.
While Cordova was, by far, the most populous and magnificent city of
Moorish Spain, it was indebted, in no small degree, for its superiority
to the prestige derived from its position as a place of pilgrimage
and the religious centre of the khalifate. Even in the eyes of the
most implacable enemies of the Ommeyade dynasty, a sacred character
invested the Western metropolis as the seat of one of the most famous
shrines of Islam. Far more intense was the feeling of reverence in
the minds of the devoted adherents of that dynasty. There was the
throne of the Commander of the Faithful, in whose person the pious
believer recognized not only the representative of a line of princes
whose genius had added vast provinces to the Moslem empire, but
also the venerated successor of the Arabian Prophet. From its gates
had gone forth armies which had traversed the natural boundaries
of the Peninsula, had occupied the fairest portion of France, and
had repeatedly abased the pride of the scoffing infidel. Everywhere
were visible significant tokens of Mussulman triumph and Christian
humiliation. Its warehouses were filled with the plunder of churches.
The inmates of monasteries were exposed by hundreds for sale in
its markets. Its mosques had been raised by the labor of Christian
captives. From the ceiling of the Djalma, the pride of all true
believers, were suspended the bells of the Cathedral of Santiago, which
even the vaunted power of the patron saint of the Asturias had been
unable to save from the sacrilegious hand of the Moslem. No capital
in Africa or Asia enjoyed a larger measure of military glory. No city
in all the wide realm of Islam was so renowned for the munificence of
its rulers, the wealth of its religious foundations, the learning and
eloquence of its theologians, and the pomp of its worship.
On the right bank of the Guadalquivir stood the Great Mosque, in the
eyes of the Mohammedans of Africa and Spain superior in sanctity to all
other temples, save only the Kaaba. Founded by the first Abd-al-Rahman,
fully as much from political motives as through religious zeal, it
had been embellished by the wealth, the taste, the rivalry, and the
enthusiasm of nine generations of sovereigns, having at their command
the resources of one of the richest and most flourishing countries of
the globe. By its erection, the power of the Western Khalifate had
been established upon a firm and enduring basis, and the permanent
independence of its dynasty assured. The more or less intimate
relations hitherto maintained with the Moslem empires of Asia were
severed; the nominal allegiance due to the monarchs of Damascus and
Bagdad, persistently asserted by peremptory edicts and occasionally
conceded by the rendition of a precarious tribute, was forever
renounced. The aims of the founder, dictated by a political sagacity
savoring of almost superhuman wisdom, were finally realized; and among
the subjects and tributaries of the House of Ommeyah, proscribed by the
rulers of Arabia, the sanctuary of the Mosque of his capital usurped
the place once occupied by the temple of Mecca, the scene of the
humiliations, the perils, and the triumphs of the Prophet. Thus, by a
masterstroke of policy, which appealed alike to the worldly ambition
and the religious pride of the people, was consolidated the authority
of a new and progressive race of kings. Its associations especially
struck the imagination of the pious Mohammedan. It occupied the site of
the principal church of Gothic Cordova, which, in its turn, had been
built upon the ruins of a Pagan temple. The stones of its foundation
had been transported from Narbonne. The earth in which they were
embedded had been stained with infidel blood. Christian prisoners,
chained together, had painfully borne these materials for a distance
of two hundred leagues, and others had for generations labored upon
its walls. The spoil of many a successful campaign had contributed to
enrich its interior. On all sides, golden inscriptions and trophies of
conquest attested the glory of the princes of Islam and the invincible
prowess of their armies. The Great Mosque is not merely an epitome of
architecture, wherein are disclosed adaptations of the artistic ideas
of many widely separated nations,--the manifestations of a spirit which
could appropriate and combine in exquisite harmony the columns of the
Roman, the capitals of the African, the arch of the Syrian, the mosaic
of the Byzantine, the battlements of the Persian,--it is an eloquent
testimonial to the genius which could enlist the ordinarily baneful
influence of superstition in the cultivation of literature and the
diffusion of knowledge. For this splendid temple played no unimportant
part in the intellectual advancement of Mohammedan Spain, as well as in
the civilization of barbarian Europe.
The multitudes of pilgrims and scholars who resorted to Cordova
hastened, without delay, to pay their devotions at its shrine. The Arab
recognized in the sweep of its arches, the graceful curves of the palm
groves of Nejd and Yemen, mementos of the Desert immortalized by the
conceptions of the architect, ever mindful of the life and habits of
his Bedouin ancestry. The polished Syrian viewed with admiring rapture
the rich stuccoes, whose complex and gorgeous patterns surpassed in
beauty the brocades of Damascus and the decorations which covered the
palaces of the monarchs of Asia. In the carvings of its lattices was
to be traced the peculiar form of the Indian cross, a symbol whose
origin is unknown to the most ancient tradition, and which appears
sculptured upon the venerable altars of Ceylon and Hindustan. Even the
emblem of a sect most obnoxious to Islam was appropriated, and, by a
singular inconsistency, compelled to assist in the adornment of the
most gorgeous mosque of the Moslem world. The cresting of the walls,
originally painted scarlet, is typical of flame, and, brought from
Persia, symbolized the faith of the Ghebers, the detested worshippers
of fire. Thus were concentrated in this unique structure the ideas, the
materials, the devices, the ornamentation of many epochs and of many
races. Each visit to its hallowed precincts imparted fresh inspiration
to the theologian, to the artist, to the poet, to the student, to the
antiquary. The reverence it claimed as a seat of pilgrimage invested
its shrine with attributes possessed by none of the famous oracles
of antiquity, and shared by few of the fanes of any contemporaneous
religious faith. It was, moreover, justly regarded as the peculiar
creation of a people whom its erection had greatly contributed to form
and amalgamate, and who were entitled to credit for the admiration
which its magnificence and its beauty elicited. Every city and province
of the empire had contributed to the pious undertaking. Cordova paid
the army of laborers employed. Merida furnished columns and other
materials, ready for the mason, from the temples and the amphitheatre
which had embellished the seat of Roman power in ancient Lusitania.
From the quarries of Almeria and Granada came great quantities of
jasper, marble, and alabaster. From the forests of the Sierras was
obtained the larch for the ceiling, whose remarkable preservation
in buildings not subjected to the destructive consequences of
ecclesiastical avarice attest its extraordinary exemption from the
attacks of insects and the ravages of decay. The princes of Mauritania
and the Byzantine vassals or allies of the khalifs, prompted by
feelings of piety or friendship, bestowed upon the rising temple the
most valuable relics of ancient art to be found in their dominions. A
fifth of the spoils of battle--in a single instance amounting to the
sum of forty-five thousand pieces of gold--was appropriated to defray
the enormous expense which, notwithstanding the drafts on the treasury
and the generous donations of the people, was constantly increasing.
In the successive enlargements of the building demanded by the growing
population, the owners of adjacent property, the purchase of which
became indispensable, were rewarded for the sacrifice of their homes
with unstinted generosity. Arab estimates have placed the entire cost
of the Djalma--whose construction and alterations embraced, from first
to last, a period of more than two centuries, under nine princes of the
House of Ommeyah--at fifteen million pieces of gold. The Mosque, as
completed, comprised an area of six hundred and twenty by four hundred
and forty feet, running with the cardinal points of the compass.
About one-third of this enclosure was occupied by a spacious court
surrounded by arcades, planted with oranges, pomegranates, and palms,
and refreshed with the spray of many fountains. The walls, thirty feet
high on the northern side, increased in altitude with the approach to
the river--the land rapidly descending in that direction--until they
rose to the commanding height of seventy feet above the banks of the
Guadalquivir. The roof was protected by plates of lead nearly an inch
in thickness, whose sale in subsequent times yielded a magnificent sum
to priestly depredators. The building, massive and imposing in its
exterior, presented a strong resemblance to a fortress, a resemblance
not inappropriate when the martial traditions of the religion to which
it was dedicated are recalled. Immense buttresses, necessitated by the
weight of the walls and the pressure of the arcades, were placed at
frequent intervals, like flanking towers in the defences of a citadel.
The summits of wall and tower were fringed with battlements. Access was
obtained to the interior by means of twenty-one horseshoe archways,
three of which opened into the court-yard, and nine on the east and
west sides respectively, three, in all, being reserved for the especial
use of women. These archways were decorated with terra-cotta mosaics in
red and yellow, relieved by inscriptions in gold on a ground of blue
and scarlet. The doors were covered with plates of burnished brass,
and provided with rings and knockers of huge dimensions and curious
workmanship.
No church in Christendom could offer to the eyes of the worshipper
such a scene of beauty as that enjoyed by the Moslem as he passed from
the thronged and dusty streets of the city into the spacious Court of
the Oranges. The latter bore the fascinating and voluptuous aspect
of a tropical garden. The atmosphere was fragrant with the perfume
of orange, rose, and jasmine. The foliage of the palm, recalling the
famous groves of Medina and transporting the pilgrim in imagination
to scenes in the distant Orient, rose majestically above the smaller
but not less attractive orange-trees, with their glossy leaves, golden
fruit, and snowy blossoms. Exquisite flowers, arranged in beds of
fantastic patterns, bloomed along the borders of the arcades. Four
great basins, each a monolith, supplied the water for the ceremonial
lustration enjoined by the law of Islam. From the fountains the vast
throng, clad in white robes, moved silently towards the temple and
into the doors, which, looking upon the court, were closed by curtains
of stamped and gilded leather. Within, the eye was bewildered by the
forest of columns,--more than fourteen hundred in number,--stretching
far away to an apparently interminable distance. They were destitute
of bases, and their capitals were entirely covered with gold. Above,
tiers of double arches, in red and white, sustained the ceiling
glittering with arabesques entwined with texts from the Koran. The
divisions of the latter were formed by medallions oval, hexagonal,
and circular, bearing a general resemblance to each other, yet widely
differing in distribution of colors and details of ornamentation.
The floor was composed of many-colored marble, arranged in designs
of simple but pleasing character. Lattices of alabaster, carved
in patterns no two of which were identical, admitted in mellowed
radiance the diminished splendor of a tropical sun. At the southern
extremity was the Kiblah, or point facing Mecca, towards which every
devout Moslem turns five times a day in prayer. It was designated
by the Mihrab, a diminutive chapel corresponding in some respects
to the Holy of Holies of the synagogue, and facing the principal
nave of the Mosque. Constructed by Al-Hakem II., the richness of its
decoration was unparalleled, and the tracery of its design unique.
Engrailed, interlacing arches of peculiar form supported the dome
of the vestibule. The entrance to the Mihrab or sanctuary--a marble
chamber octagonal in form, and fifteen feet in diameter as well as in
height--was flanked by two similar doorways leading into apartments
of smaller dimensions. Four slender columns of verde-antique and
lapis-lazuli sustained the sweeping horseshoe arch of entrance. The
slabs of marble which lined the Mihrab were carved and gilded. The
ceiling was composed of a single block, which the skill of the sculptor
had fashioned into the exact representation of a gigantic shell. In
the vestibule, over portal and wall, upon spandrel and dome, sparkled
elaborate and fantastic creations in Byzantine mosaic, wrought by the
most cunning artificers of Constantinople. It was a condition of the
treaty between Constantine and Abd-al-Rahman that the latter should
be furnished with all the mosaic he required for his buildings. In
a single vessel despatched from the Bosphorus, under direction of
the Emperor, during the reign of Al-Hakem, were sixteen tons of this
precious material.
The legends in the Cufic character, whose forms so readily lend
themselves to mural decoration, were always of gold. The groundwork
was of different colors,--scarlet, black, blue, green, and
crimson,--disposed in harmonious combinations most agreeable to the
eye. The elegant curves of the arabesques formed a charming contrast
with the angular letters of the inscriptions. Composed of minute cubes
of glass, scores of which were necessary to cover a square inch of
surface, the patience and skill required for a work of such magnitude
and delicacy can scarcely be even imagined. Years were employed in its
completion, and its durability was such that, where the mosaics have
escaped the destructive touch of the Christian vandal, their solidity
and lustre remain to-day unimpaired, after the changes, the neglect,
and the depredations of more than eleven centuries.
Within the enclosure of the Mihrab was kept the pulpit built under the
direction of Al-Hakem II., and destined for the use of the sovereign,
when, in the capacity of Successor of the Prophet, he addressed the
multitude congregated in the Mosque. It was made of minute pieces of
costly woods combined with ivory, tortoise-shell, and mother of pearl,
put together with gold and silver nails. Seven years were consumed
in the production of this admirable specimen of the joiner’s art.
The carvings with which it was covered were of the most exquisite
character. Its intrinsic value was greatly enhanced by the jewels
with which it was enriched, and the precious metals used in its
construction. Inside of this pulpit, and enclosed in a case of cloth
of gold studded with rubies and pearls, was preserved the famous
Koran of the Khalif Othman, which he was reading at the time of his
assassination, and whose leaves were said to have been discolored with
his blood. A memento of the relentless persecution of the Ommeyades, no
relic, even of the Prophet himself, was regarded by the adherents of
the Abbaside and Fatimite dynasties with greater veneration than was
this precious souvenir by the princes and the people of the Andalusian
empire. It was at once the talisman of their security, the glory of
their ritual, the emblem of imperial and theocratical power. Deposited
upon a lectern of aloe wood profusely inlaid with gold, it was borne
in state on Fridays to the tribune, where the customary service was
read from its pages. Four men were required to carry the ponderous
volume and its accessories. The cortege was preceded by the imam and
his assistants, and accompanied with the pomp of lamps and incense. The
magnificent processions of the Roman Catholic Church, during the period
of its greatest ecclesiastical and temporal grandeur, could boast no
spectacle more impressive than this ceremonial, celebrated every week
in the presence of twelve thousand worshippers.
Directly in front of the Mihrab was the Maksurah, an enclosure reserved
for the Khalif, the princes of the blood, and the higher ministers of
the Mohammedan religion. It occupied a portion of the seven central
naves, and was terminated on the south by the vestibule of the Mihrab.
It measured one hundred and twelve by thirty-three feet, and was formed
by a lofty screen or lattice elaborately carved, composed, for the
most part, of odoriferous woods enriched with beautiful ornaments.
Despite the numerous interstices with which it was provided, the
interior was not visible to those outside, and its resemblance to a
wall was increased by its towering height of fifty feet, as well as by
the gilded battlements with which it was crowned. The pavement was of
silver tiles, and the central door, destined for the passage of the
Khalif, was heavily plated with gold. During his attendance at the
services of the Mosque, the Commander of the Faithful was rarely seen
by his subjects. From the adjoining palace he crossed the street by
a covered bridge, and, traversing a secret passage contrived in the
southern wall of the Mosque, entered the vestibule of the Mihrab, and
thence proceeded to his post in the elevated tribune of the Maksurah.
This passage contained eight doors, at each of which a sentinel was
posted. These opened alternately towards the east and west, thus,
in case of treachery, precluding the possibility of concert among
the guards, one of whom, if faithful, could, unaided, readily defend
the passage against the combined efforts of the remaining seven. The
entrance of the Khalif was the occasion of a magnificent display. A
silken carpet, interwoven with silver, was spread from the palace
gate to the Maksurah. Black and white eunuchs in splendid costumes
preceded and followed the royal party. The body-guard of the sovereign
was composed of members of his family, carrying drawn scimetars, and
sheathed in shining mail. These precautions were considered necessary
on account of the melancholy experience of former Successors of the
Prophet. The sacred character investing Omar, Othman, Ali, and Muavia
had not preserved them from the assassin’s dagger; and the populace
of Cordova, notorious for its daring criminals and fanatics, excited
well-grounded fears in the mind of a monarch whose formidable army was
sometimes insufficient to restrain its revolutionary spirit, fostered
by turbulent adventurers collected from every nation subject to the
code of Islam. On the western side of the temple, and facing the royal
palace, was the Chamber of Alms, where the charity of the Khalif was
daily dispensed in accordance with the injunctions of his faith.
The interior of the Mosque, by reason of its vast extent and its
comparatively low ceiling, was more or less obscure, even at noon-day,
and lamps were kept constantly burning in its aisles. Two hundred
and eighty chandeliers of brass and silver were suspended from its
arches, the oil used in them being perfumed with costly essences. The
largest of these contained fourteen hundred and fifty-four lamps, and
measured thirty-eight feet in circumference. Its reflector contained
thirty-six thousand pieces of silver fastened with rivets of gold. Its
beauty was enhanced by the gems with which it was studded, and, by
the combined effect of the mirrors, the light was increased to nine
times its original intensity. During the entire month of Ramadhan the
Mosque was illuminated with twenty thousand lights. An enormous taper,
weighing sixty pounds, was placed in the Maksurah. Its dimensions were
calculated with such accuracy that the wax was completely consumed
during the last hour of the last day of the festival.
A deep and mysterious significance has always attached to the
celebration of the feast of Ramadhan in the Mohammedan world, but
nowhere were its rules observed with such solemnity, and its ceremonies
performed with such splendor, as in the capital of Mohammedan Spain. It
corresponded in many respects to the Lent of the Christian Church. From
dawn to dark not a mouthful of food, not a drop of water, could pass
the lips of the consistent believer. After sunset he was, in a measure,
recompensed for his privations during the day. Lamps were hung from
tower and minaret. The tinkle of the mandolin and the mellow notes of
the lute were heard from latticed balconies. The sounds of boisterous
revelry rose faintly on the midnight air from retired court-yards
and the distant apartments of majestic palaces. Crowds in the most
picturesque of costumes swept through the streets. Dancing-girls and
story-tellers, surrounded by appreciative audiences, plied their
several vocations in the squares, under the glistening foliage of
lemon- and orange-trees. The Koranic prohibition of indulgence in wine
was too often forgotten, and the indignation of the abstemious Moslem
was frequently aroused by the sight of transgressors in every stage of
intoxication. On all sides were the evidences of joy, carelessness, and
festivity.
Inside the Mosque a far different scene presented itself to the eye of
the delighted spectator. From the lofty gallery of the minaret,--whose
centre was veiled in obscurity, but whose gilded crest glittered
with the magical play of a hundred colored lanterns,--the piercing
voice of the muezzin was calling the people to prayer. Through every
doorway an endless living stream poured into the temple. Among the
worshippers, but keeping aloof from the surging mass, were numbers of
strangely muffled figures, accompanied by gigantic blacks attired in
robes of silk and gold. These were the ladies of the harems, whom the
liberal ideas of Andalusian society usually permitted to dispense with
the veil, but which, assumed on this occasion from choice, became a
convenient disguise and an invaluable aid to intrigue. The interior
suggested a vision of enchantment. Myriads of lights illumined every
corner of the vast edifice, rivalling in their intolerable brilliancy
the blinding glare of the meridian sun. Their rays were reflected
and multiplied by the gleaming walls; by the ceiling, with its broad
inscriptions and its bewildering arabesques; by the metallic foliage
of a thousand capitals; by the portal of the Maksurah with its scales
of polished gold. The air was heavy with the smoke of amber, aloes,
and ambergris. Far away through long vistas of columns, the beautiful
Mihrab, whose vitreous surface sparkled with the radiance of countless
jewels of every conceivable hue, pointed out to the believer the
location of the Kiblah. Following the example of the imam, visible
from his lofty station in the mimbar, the innumerable multitude, as
if actuated by a single impulse, raised its voice in prayer, and
moved in unison through the repeated prostrations prescribed by the
Mohammedan ritual. Of such a fascinating character was the sight to be
witnessed during every night of the festival, in the most sumptuous
temple of Islam, enriched by the munificence and the piety of the most
enlightened sovereigns of the age, whose appointments surpassed, in
their incredible magnificence, alike the boasted decorations of Pagan
antiquity and the luxurious creations inspired by the wild imagination
of the Orient; where gold and silver, where rare woods and precious
gems were employed, like the commonest materials, in lavish profusion;
where trophies of victory, ostentatiously displayed, reminded the
zealot of the triumphs of the Faith; where the excited senses of the
worshipper were soothed by the costliest odors from jewelled censers;
and where, disposed in silver chandeliers and candelabras, rows upon
rows of perfumed tapers diffused through the endless colonnades their
lustre and their fragrance.
On the north side of the Court of the Oranges stood the stately
minaret erected during the reign of Abd-al-Rahman III. A master-piece
of architecture, and, in every respect, appropriate to the sumptuous
building for whose use it was intended, it was universally conceded to
be without a rival in the world. It was twenty-seven feet square and
one hundred and eight feet high. Constructed of polished freestone
brought from Africa, its sides were carved in elegant tracery, whose
gilded patterns were projected upon a ground of ultramarine and
vermilion. It was lighted by windows forming graceful arches, supported
by diminutive columns of red and white jasper. Half of the windows had
two openings, and the remainder, three, and disposed alternately amidst
the maze of varied and brilliant decorative designs, they produced a
charming effect. The interior contained two stairways, so contrived
that a person ascending or descending either was invisible to any one
upon the other. A gallery, eighty-one feet from the ground, was used
by the muezzin for the duties of his sacred office. Another and a
smaller structure, corresponding in style with the one upon which it
was superimposed, rose to the additional height of twelve feet, and was
furnished with battlements similar to those of the Mosque. Its summit
was adorned with three huge balls, two of gold and one of silver,
encircled by lilies of the latter metal, crowned with a pomegranate of
burnished gold. Three hundred persons of all ranks--many of whom, like
the servitors of the Kaaba, were eunuchs--were employed in the various
offices of the Great Mosque, the menials being lodged within its walls.
A guard was constantly maintained, day and night, in the vicinity of
the Maksurah, under whose floor were vaults for the custody of the
candlesticks and the various sacred vessels used in the ceremonies of
festivals.
Such was the superb temple of Cordova, once the pride of Islam, and one
of the noblest monuments of superstition and policy ever conceived by
human genius or erected by human power. Its completion made possible
the grand achievements of the Ommeyade dynasty, whose influence, acting
indirectly upon Christian nations, greatly facilitated the emancipation
of the human intellect, long confined by the galling bonds of
ecclesiastical intolerance and heathen tradition. The inspiration of
its architects was derived from many sources; in its plan it exhibited
the conformation of the synagogue and the tabernacle; in its decoration
were displayed the luxurious adornments of the Greek cathedral; its
tapers and its incense recalled the Latin ceremonial, in its turn
borrowed from the pompous ritual of Pagan sacrifice. Even in its
present dilapidated state, the original purposes of its institution are
apparent at every step; and nothing short of its entire destruction
could eradicate the enthusiastic impressions excited by the first view
of its singular interior, with its forest of columns, and its tarnished
and mutilated vestiges of Oriental splendor. It is eminently typical
of the civilization of a vanished race, whose deeds are written in
something more enduring than brass or marble, and serves to indicate
to posterity the sublimity of the spirit that could contrive, and the
skill and resources that could execute, an undertaking of such grandeur
and magnificence.
The health of Al-Hakem growing steadily worse, he made preparations to
avoid, as far as possible, the evils incident to a disputed succession.
He had only one son, Hischem, then fourteen years of age; but the
history of his house abounded with instances of the unscrupulous
ambition of royal claimants belonging to the collateral branches who
had aspired to establish their pretensions by arms. Without declaring
his object, a grand council of nobles, governors of provinces, generals
of the army, and ministers of state was convened at Cordova. With bowed
head and faltering gait, the feeble monarch ascended for the last
time the steps of his throne. Through the vizier, he explained to the
assembled officials the reason why he had called them together, and
made the request--which was understood as a command--that all should
attach their signatures to an instrument declaring Hischem the sole
heir to the crown of the khalifate. This having been done, similar
documents were despatched without delay into all the provinces of the
empire, to be signed by the inferior officials of the government and
even by the people, in order to secure, by every practical expedient,
the permanence of the dynasty and the integrity of its succession,
which had at last come to be recognized as dependent upon the law of
primogeniture. We shall see, in the sequel, how far these elaborate and
well-contrived precautions were successful.
The few months which remained to Al-Hakem after the investiture of his
son with royal power were occupied in the performance of good works.
His worldly affairs and the future of his empire had been committed
to the hands of others. The condition of his mind and his failing
eye-sight precluded him from the enjoyments and the consolations of
literature. Conscious of his increasing infirmities, and admonished
daily of his approaching end, he endeavored to employ his entire time
in the fulfilment of the duties of a devout Mussulman. His life had
been disgraced by no excesses, disfigured by no persecutions, stained
with no crimes. He had ever been distinguished for the exercise of
a broad and unostentatious charity. Calumny itself could neither
accuse him of fanaticism nor impute to him even the suspicion of
infidelity. The most precise and orthodox interpreters of the law
and the boldest freethinkers had been equally welcome at his court,
and had daily encountered each other in the great libraries of his
capital. The absolute intellectual liberty which there existed was,
indeed, considered a reproach by ignorant Moslems of less enlightened
lands, who could not understand the association with heretics and the
toleration of infidels; but in Spain, where a system of universal
education had been established, and was enforced as well by law as
by the influence of public opinion, this inestimable privilege was
thoroughly appreciated.
Thus, although the Khalif had no grave offences against morality to
reproach himself with, he felt, like every truly conscientious man,
that he had failed to comply with many of the injunctions of his
creed. To atone, in a measure, for these deficiencies was now his only
care. He dispensed great sums in charity. He diminished the taxes
imposed upon the provinces of the empire by one-sixth, a measure most
grateful to his subjects, and, at the same time, without detriment to
the treasury, the country being at peace, and the revenues increasing
under the wise and economical administration of the Vizier Moshafi.
He emancipated and provided for large numbers of slaves. He directed
that the rent of that quarter of the bazaar of the capital occupied by
the saddlers--which was one of the perquisites of the crown--should
hereafter, for all time, be set apart for the benefit of the schools
maintained at public expense for the children of the poor. And,
finally, knowing how much the happiness of a people is dependent on
the character of their ruler, he constantly inculcated, and impressed
by argument and parental authority upon the mind of his son, Prince
Hischem, the duties and the grave responsibilities of a sovereign;
the evils of war; the destructive consequences of ambition; the
enduring benefits of peace; the necessity of a pure administration of
justice; the value of continence; the pleasures to be derived from the
acquisition of knowledge; the consolations arising from the observance
of the precepts of virtue, and the practice of an enlightened morality.
At last, this great monarch, whose titles to distinction are derived
from far more noble sources than those whence emanates the fame
attaching to the sanguinary achievements of the conqueror, was gathered
to his fathers. His son, whose gentle disposition inspired the hope
that he would profit by the wise counsels and the pious example he
had enjoyed, recited the burial-service, and the body of Al-Hakem
was committed to the sepulchre. The bier was followed by a mighty
concourse, whose tears and lamentations manifested their grief, and
whose apprehensions of impending misfortune were betrayed by the cry,
“Our Father is dead, and with him dies the sword of Islam, the support
of the weak and the terror of the proud!”
The prominent features of the character of Al-Hakem were his love of
learning, his profuse but always judicious liberality, and his profound
reverence for the doctrines of the Koran and the laws of the empire.
The few military operations he was called upon to direct showed no
want of vigor, and suggested that in a less peaceful age he might
have obtained the laurels of a successful general. His devotion to
literature amounted to a passion. No monarch of whom history makes
mention has equalled him in the extent of his knowledge or the number
and diversity of his literary accomplishments. In every country
of the world, in the foci of civilization, in the great capitals
and commercial emporiums of the East, at Bagdad, Cairo, Damascus,
Alexandria, Constantinople, his agents were stationed to secure books
for his libraries. No price was too extravagant to pay, no difficulty
was too arduous to surmount, in the acquisition of a work whose
character made it a desirable addition to the vast collection of the
palace of Cordova. The rarity of a volume was a special inducement to
its purchase. Where the owner refused to part with a manuscript, he
was, as a rule, easily prevailed upon to allow it to be copied, and his
courtesy was always munificently rewarded. In the extensive libraries
of the princes of the Orient, whose collections, however valuable,
could not vie with the superb one of Al-Hakem, were constantly occupied
the expert scribes and copyists of that accomplished, untiring
monarch; investigators whose labors were never terminated, whose pens
were never idle. A premium was offered to every writer of note whose
productions should be first submitted to the Khalif, and the knowledge
of this fact often procured for him the inspection of manuscripts long
before they were made public in the country where they were composed.
The emulation and the aspirations of distinguished authors caused their
works to be transmitted to Cordova from the most distant lands, from
Al-Maghreb, Egypt, Byzantium, Syria, and Persia, and the reward for
a composition of unusual merit not infrequently reached the enormous
figure of a thousand pieces of gold.
Under the influence of such potent agencies, it is not remarkable
that great popularity was communicated to the study of every branch
of human knowledge. Treatises replete with the stores of ancient
wisdom were brought forth from dusty corners where they had lain
neglected for centuries; the sages of Greece were translated into
Arabic; and the philosophy of Aristotle and the problems of Euclid
were publicly expounded for the benefit of the multitude. In a society
where intellectual pre-eminence was a certain passport to official
distinction, the study of letters soon became not only a popular and
absorbing pursuit, but one of the most desirable of professions. The
accumulation of books was the first employment of an aspirant to
public consideration and political fame. In the house of almost every
prosperous citizen a collection of volumes, not exhibited to display
the wealth or pedantry of the owner, but with whose contents he was
more or less familiar, was preserved. For the benefit of those whose
means were too limited for the possession of such luxuries, as well
as to afford every facility for the promotion of intelligence and the
advancement of science, public libraries were founded in all the great
cities of the Peninsula. With the growing demand for manuscripts, their
value not only increased in the markets of the world, but, through the
enormous prices they commanded, literary industry was stimulated to
their search and reproduction. It was a well-known fact that no gift
was so acceptable to the Khalif as a rare manuscript, or the first
copy of a new work by an author of established reputation. The library
of Al-Hakem II. was undoubtedly the greatest repository of learning
which had up to that time existed in Europe. As a significant token
of the estimation in which its volumes were held, the appointments
and furniture of the building where they were deposited exhibited
all the magnificence of a palace. The floor was of rare and costly
marble, the walls and ceiling of alabaster and mosaic, the columns
of jasper and verde-antique. The cases were of polished woods, some
selected for their rarity, others for the delightful fragrance they
exhaled. Inscriptions in characters of gold indicated the contents of
the shelves, or inspired the student, by the repetition of the maxims
of famous writers, to emulate the example of the wise and virtuous
scholars of antiquity. The manuscripts in time became so numerous that
the halls of the library, extensive as they were, could not contain
them. In the scriptorium an army of binders and calligraphists was
employed, and the finest books were gilded and illuminated with a taste
and elegance that have never been equalled. The number of volumes in
the collection of the Khalif is variously stated at from four hundred
thousand to six hundred thousand. Forty-four volumes were required for
the catalogue alone. With the contents of most of these works Al-Hakem
is said to have been familiar, and, indeed, many of them were enriched
with notes and comments written by his own hand. The title-page of each
volume bore not only the name of the author but also his genealogy,
as well as the dates of his birth and his death, all collected and
preserved by the indefatigable industry of the royal scholar. His
prodigious memory; his powers of acquisition; his critical acumen; his
talents for composition; and the capacity which could abstract from the
administration of the public affairs of a great monarchy sufficient
time for literary undertakings that, under ordinary circumstances,
could hardly be accomplished in a lifetime of constant study, are
marvellous and incredible. For Al-Hakem was an historian of approved
merit, as well as an impartial critic and a voluminous commentator.
He wrote a history of Spain, now unhappily lost, which was considered
a high authority in its time, and whose reputation was universally
admitted to be independent of the prestige which it would naturally
derive from the name and rank of the author. Such was his erudition
that in knowledge on obscure points of genealogy and biography he
was without a rival, even in the learned court of Cordova; and his
fund of historical information was so profound, and his judgment
so accurate, that his opinions were respected and unquestioned by
the most accomplished scholars of the Mohammedan world. As may be
conjectured, a prodigious impulse was imparted to education by this
extraordinary patronage of letters. The accumulated wisdom of Africa,
Asia, and Europe was to be found at Cordova. Reports of the munificence
of Al-Hakem, and the fame of his splendid court, where literary
attainments were a recommendation to royal favor, had been transmitted
along the highways of commerce to the most isolated quarters of the
globe. It was the ambition of every scholar to complete his studies
in a society which offered such unrivalled advantages. A multitude of
students of every nationality constantly thronged the streets of the
capital. Education was reduced to a system, whose regulations were
enforced with military precision. To invest the cause of instruction
with additional prestige, the influence of royalty was invoked, and
Al-Mondhir, the brother of the Khalif, was charged with the general
supervision of the institutions of learning. The charity of Al-Hakem
had founded at Cordova no less than twenty-seven schools, where the
children of the poor received an education not inferior in thoroughness
to that conferred by the best colleges of the empire.
The intellectual progress of the nation was greatly assisted by the
freedom of thought which was universally prevalent. The study of
philosophy was encouraged, and the promulgation of the most heretical
opinions was neither prohibited by public sentiment, nor allowed to
be interfered with by the fanaticism of the orthodox sects. By the
incessant collision of opinions, by the comparison of authorities,
and by the examination of antagonistic doctrines a general spirit of
inquiry sprang up; and, in consequence of its dissemination, even the
professors of the University were not wrongfully suspected of a leaning
towards atheism.
The efforts of Al-Hakem had been early directed to the reformation of
manners, an invidious task which might well exhaust the resolution
and tact of the most politic and courageous sovereign. The example
of the Orient, the possession of wealth, and the influence of luxury
had introduced and promoted the demoralizing vice of drunkenness. The
wines of Andalusia were then, as now, famous for their palatable as
well as for their exhilarating qualities. The country was covered with
vineyards, and the products of the wine-press formed no inconsiderable
item of the commercial statistics of the Peninsula. Debauchery, at
first carried on in secret, had grown bold with the open countenance
of high officials and the increasing impunity with which it was
practised; and it was hinted that even the ministers of religion did
not hesitate to indulge in a vice so severely reprobated by the Koran.
The prohibited beverages were not confined to wines, for inebriating
liquors distilled from figs, dates, and other fruits were also consumed
in large quantities. This pernicious habit was not confined to the
wealthier class, but was almost universal; and the scenes of revelry,
in which persons of both sexes participated at banquets and other
festivities, rivalled, if they did not surpass, the scandalous orgies
which had in the day of their splendor and their infamy disgraced
the court and capital of Damascus. The Moslem casuists attempted to
excuse these breaches of the law by alleging that the use of wine
was necessary to the soldier, as it inspired him with courage and
increased his powers of endurance, and that this indulgence should be
at least conceded to those who habitually exposed themselves to the
weapons of the enemy. Such sophistry, however, failed to impose upon
the discerning mind of Al-Hakem. Determined to remove, if possible, the
means of intoxication, he issued a peremptory order that all the vines
in the Peninsula should be torn up and destroyed. His counsellors,
however, having represented that such a sweeping measure would be
productive of great financial loss and consequent suffering, and that
intoxicating beverages could be, and were, even then, made from other
fruits, he consented to withdraw the order, which had already caused
wide-spread alarm among his subjects. But his sense of duty did not
permit him to leave the evil unchecked. The imams were directed to
declare from the pulpits of the mosques that the use of wine was
forbidden at all social assemblies and public festivities; and the
kadis were especially admonished that the penalties prescribed by
the law for drunkenness must be enforced, regardless of the wealth,
rank, or official station of the offender. The vice was, however, too
deeply rooted to be abolished by the denunciations of theologians or
the impotent threats of magistrates, themselves suspected of secret
participation in the offences they affected publicly to condemn.
The society of Cordova, and with it that of the entire khalifate,
in a minor degree, had, in fact, become thoroughly epicurean. The
philosopher, while observing a decent reverence for the national
religion whose rites he openly practised in the character of a good
citizen and privately ridiculed in the company of his friends, was
deeply tinctured with the ancient pantheistic doctrines of India.
Even the populace had ceased to exhibit the fanaticism which is the
inseparable companion of ignorance. The system of universal education
had gradually and insensibly removed many of those prejudices on
whose perpetuity depend the importance and the power of the ministers
of superstition. The example of their superiors was not lost on
the multitude. The attendance at the mosques was not perceptibly
diminished, but it became rather a matter of custom than an observance
dictated by conscientious belief and a sense of religious duty. A
skepticism pervaded the masses which surprised and alarmed the devout
pilgrim from a far-distant country who visited the shrine of Cordova,
in his eyes, second in holiness only to the temple of Mecca. Enjoyment
of the present, indifference to the future, were the principles which
guided the conduct and influenced the lives of the pleasure-loving
subjects of Al-Hakem. Under such circumstances, the correction of
public immorality, and the repression of a popular and prevalent
vice was a difficult, if not a hopeless, undertaking. The edict of
the Khalif against drunkenness was publicly observed and secretly
disregarded. The epicurean tendency of the age was too general and too
well established to be seriously affected by the proclamations or the
example of princes.
In the prosecution of enterprises of public improvement and general
utility, Al-Hakem exhibited no less taste and spirit than the most
renowned of his predecessors. The largest cities and the most
sequestered hamlets of the empire alike acknowledged the benefits of
his discriminating liberality. He repaired the highways; furnished them
with fountains at convenient intervals; and, in obedience to the law
of the Koran, which inculcates the duties of hospitality, established,
at the end of each day’s journey, a caravansary for the entertainment
of travellers. Schools, almshouses, hospitals, rose in every town,
a great portion of the funds required for the construction and
endowment of these institutions being derived from the private purse
of the Khalif. His devotion and family pride caused him to emulate
the example of his ancestors by making additions to the Great Mosque
of the capital. He largely increased the capacity of the building.
He erected the Maksurah, where the Commander of the Faithful could
enter, unperceived by the congregation, and perform his devotions
apart from the other worshippers, in accordance with that practice of
Oriental seclusion which from motives of prudence or mystery had, for
three generations, been adopted by the Ommeyades of Spain. Before the
reign of Al-Hakem, the basin where every devout Mussulman performed
the ablution, symbolical of purification, incumbent on him before
entering the Mosque, was small and inadequate to the necessities of the
multitudes that daily frequented the second in renown and sanctity of
the fanes of Islam. This receptacle was rude and primitive; the water
frequently became stagnant; and the supply was, from time to time,
renewed from a neighboring well by means of vessels borne by beasts of
burden. The inconvenience and incongruity of this arrangement, amidst
all the splendors that surrounded it, forcibly impressed itself upon
the mind of the Khalif. At vast expense and with infinite labor,
he caused four basins of stone to be constructed at the angles of
the court of the Mosque, two for the use of men and two for the use
of women. In the centre was a great monolithic reservoir of marble,
from which rose a fountain that diffused its refreshing spray over
the tropical vegetation with which the court was adorned. The blocks
for these basins were quarried in the mountains, miles from Cordova,
and the largest required the power of seventy oxen and an army of
laborers to transport it to its destination. This gigantic undertaking
consumed twelve days. An abundant supply of water was conveyed from
the springs and rivulets of the sierra through the aqueduct, and the
overflow passed by means of pipes into immense cisterns under the
pavement of the court, available in case of siege and an ever-ready
protection against fire. The aqueduct also supplied many other
fountains throughout the city, which were increased in number and
convenience by the provident care of the Khalif. The hydraulic works
of Al-Hakem are almost intact to-day, after the vicissitudes of many
eventful ages and the constant wear of more than nine hundred years.
The marble reservoirs, where were once performed the lustrations of
Moslem zealots from every land, now furnish with water the populace of
Christian Cordova, whose squalid and repulsive appearance, whose brutal
physical characteristics, whose profound ignorance of the history of
the cleanly, intellectual, and polished race to which these splendid
memorials of art and industry are to be ascribed, offer striking
evidence of the instability of the highest civilization and of the
constant tendency of man to retrograde to the condition of the savage;
of his incapacity to appreciate or profit by the experience and the
wisdom of the conquered when the latter belong to another creed or
another sect; and of the stupendous power for evil that can be exerted
by a hierarchy whose established policy is founded on the systematic
debasement of the intellectual faculties of its slaves.
A pleasing story is related of Al-Hakem which strikingly illustrates
his equanimity and his genial manners as well as that reverence for
learning and its professors which was characteristic both of the man
and the monarch. The imperious demands of despotic power, as we are
accustomed to regard them, admit of no hesitation or compromise in
their obedience. Yet such was the mild and forbearing disposition of
this great sovereign that his subjects could venture, on occasions that
seemed to justify it, to postpone for their own convenience compliance
with orders that were peremptory. While the faqui Abu-Ibrahim, one of
the greatest of the authorities on Mohammedan law whose talents adorned
the University of Cordova, was lecturing one day to a large class
of students in one of the mosques, he received, through a eunuch, a
summons from the Khalif to attend him instantly at the palace.
“I hear with profound respect the order of the Commander of the
Faithful,” replied Abu-Ibrahim. “Return to him, and say that thou
hast found me in the House of God, surrounded by my pupils, whom I am
instructing in the traditions relating to the Prophet. Tell him that
the moment I have finished my lecture on this holy subject, by which
my audience will fail to profit if I am interrupted, I will repair to
him.” The eunuch, confounded by this reply, returned to the palace, and
reported the result of the interview. In a short time he came back, and
addressed Abu-Ibrahim as follows: “O Faqui, I have delivered thy answer
to the Sultan, who applauds thy piety and appreciates the importance
of the labors thou art daily performing for the benefit of our holy
religion; he will await thy pleasure, and has directed me to remain
until thy lecture is finished, that I may escort thee to his presence.”
Not only did the complaisance of Al-Hakem, on this occasion as on many
others, yield to the claims of learning, but it was also indulgent
to the age and weakness of his friend. He caused the gate which was
nearest the palace to be opened to accommodate the venerable professor,
who walked with difficulty and whose infirmities prevented him from
mounting on horseback; and when he arrived at the entrance he found
a great number of officials and domestics assembled to do him honor,
and waiting to conduct him, with the ceremony due to his reputation
and the esteem in which he was held by his royal master, into the hall
of audience. Thus could the placid and magnanimous nature of Al-Hakem
subordinate the prerogatives of royalty to the demands of knowledge,
and sacrifice for the benefit of the votaries of science that
implicit obedience whose neglect is an evidence of treason, and whose
instantaneous observance is one of the inseparable rights of arbitrary
power. His greatness even rose superior to the paltry prejudices of
rank and the requirements of custom; the intimacy in which he lived
with the learned, the respectful familiarity which he encouraged
from his favorites, offer a surprising contrast to the tyranny and
impatience usually associated with the possession of despotic authority.
There have existed few examples of a ruler so perfectly identified
with the spirit of his age and the genius of his people as was
Al-Hakem, whose name most appropriately signifies The Wise. Nature
had not bestowed upon him the consummate talents for organization,
and the prophetic sagacity with which she had gifted the founder of
his dynasty, Abd-al-Rahman I. He did not possess either the political
tact or the military capacity of Abd-al-Rahman III. But in all the
substantial acquirements of useful knowledge; in the appreciation
of the works of genius, and the disposition to reward them; in the
encouragement of every art which promotes happiness and alleviates
suffering; in the practice of those virtues which reflect dignity on
a subject and shine with still greater lustre when included in the
attributes of royalty, he was certainly without a rival among all the
Spanish Mohammedan princes. He was the worthy representative of the
advanced culture, the scientific attainments, the poesy and the art
of Hispano-Arab civilization, as contrasted with the intellectual
darkness, the disgusting immorality, the revolting filth, the abject
superstition, which characterized the contemporaneous society of
Europe. His tireless industry and prodigious erudition were the
marvel of his time. His devotion to literature was imitated by his
subjects, who embraced with enthusiasm pursuits which both diminished
the privations of the poor and contributed to the enjoyment of the
favorites of fortune. The highest and most lucrative positions were
the rewards of those who had attained to distinguished eminence in
literary pursuits, without regard to their political antecedents, their
nationality, or their ancestry.
The example of the Khalif, who often, with his own hands, cultivated
his gardens, was followed by the kadis, the walis, the muftis, the
nobles of the empire. He utilized to the utmost the natural resources
of the Peninsula. Agriculture was brought to such excellence as seemed
to make any further improvement impossible. The ships of Cadiz,
Seville, Almeria, and Valencia boldly traversed the most dangerous
seas. The merino sheep, whose migrations over the plains of Estremadura
and Castile were made subject to laws which have been adopted by and
are still in force among the Spaniards, amounted to millions. Valuable
deposits of ore were opened and developed for the benefit of commerce
and the arts. In short, the reign of Al-Hakem represents the golden age
of Moslem history,--an age that with singular felicity had appropriated
the wisdom and the experience of antiquity; whose wonderful progress
in every branch of industry, in every department of knowledge, was the
admiration of all nations, Christian and infidel; and whose inspiring
genius was, in reality, the last, as he was the most accomplished, of a
famous race of kings.