In the new and radical policy which Ibn-abi-Amir had inaugurated with

respect to the army, he was far from being actuated by purely selfish

motives. He understood thoroughly the inconstant and restless nature

of the population which he ruled. Experience had repeatedly shown

the perilous conditions arising from a protracted peace. The Koran

enjoined perpetual war against the infidel. Such a crusade was popular

with all classes,--with the theologians, whose religious animosities

it gratified; with the merchants, whose trade it increased and whose

coffers it replenished; with the nobility, to whom it opened an

avenue to military distinction; with the soldiery, who were attracted

by the prospect of unlimited plunder. Every year, from the date of

his association with Ghalib in the administration, Ibn-abi-Amir had

proclaimed the Djihad, and had himself taken part in two expeditions

against the Christians. To this policy, whose expediency was

indisputable, he publicly declared his intention to adhere. The people

heard the announcement with exultation. The faquis applauded the piety

of the hajib with a fervor which they scarcely vouchsafed to the deeds

of the saints who filled the Moslem calendar. The constant employment

of a large number of troops in hostile operations was a substantial

guaranty against revolution. With this potent safeguard, the dangers

of sedition were no longer to be apprehended. The passions and the

energy of the nation were to be expended in a war beyond the borders

of the monarchy. But still another consideration influenced the mind

of the great statesman. He was zealously solicitous for the honor,

profoundly ambitious for the glory, of his country. He desired to

extend her frontiers; to recover the territory that had been conquered

from or basely yielded by her sovereigns, as well as to chastise her

blaspheming enemies.

Of the greater number of the fifty-two campaigns directed by

Ibn-abi-Amir, the chroniclers of the time have left us no record. Many

of them, doubtless, were mere marauding expeditions; but all were

uniformly and signally successful. Not the slightest reverse dimmed the

lustre of a single triumph. With each year the limits of the Christian

kingdoms became more and more contracted, until they barely reached the

southern slopes of the mountains. Beyond, stretching away to the Moslem

border, was a scene of desolation, where once waving crops and verdant

pastures met the eye. The presence of an occasional pile of blackened

ruins was the only indication that the country had ever been inhabited.

So complete was this devastation that the plains of Leon and Castile

have not yet recovered from its effects. The forests then cut down have

never been replanted. The curse of sterility, and the freezing winds

that sweep over this cheerless region, seem to discourage the hope that

it will ever regain its former productiveness. The incessant march of

the Moorish armies for a quarter of a century obliterated every sign of

animal and vegetable life.

The ire of Ibn-abi-Amir was aroused by the reflection that the King

of Leon, despite the admonitions he had received, had dared to assist

his rival Moshafi, and, bent on revenge, he made preparations for the

most important expedition which had under his command ever invaded

the Christian territory. The strong city of Zamora, defended by seven

mighty walls and seven moats, was taken by storm. Four thousand of the

enemy were butchered, and as many more led into captivity. A thousand

settlements, surrounded by evidences of the thrift of an industrious

peasantry, were given to the flames. A considerable number of

monasteries and convents were destroyed, and their inmates delivered to

the Berbers to be insulted and tortured with every device of ruthless

barbarity. Realizing their common danger, the Kings of Leon and Navarre

formed a defensive alliance with the Count of Castile, and ventured to

resist the progress of the Moslems. The hostile armies met at Rueda,

not far from Simancas. A great battle took place; the Christians

were completely routed, and victors and vanquished entered Simancas

together. No quarter was shown by the infuriated Saracens. Every

Christian who fell into their power was put to the sword. Winter was

at hand, but Ibn-abi-Amir, who understood the necessity of following

up a victory, without heeding cold or tempest, moved on Leon. The

city, reduced to extremity, was about to yield, when the intolerable

hardships of the season, which was one of unusual severity, compelled a

retreat.

After the capture of Simancas, the enthusiastic soldiery conferred

upon their commander the appelation of Al-Mansur, The Victorious. This

name, by which the hajib was afterwards universally designated, was, in

imitation of the custom of the khalifs, accepted by him as a title of

honor. With its adoption he arrogated to himself many other tokens of

distinction hitherto considered the exclusive privileges of royalty.

His titles were woven in golden letters on the hem of his garments.

His name was associated with that of Hischem in the khotba. Of all

who approached him the most servile obeisance was exacted. New and

oppressive regulations were added to the already complicated ceremonial

of the court. The marks and requirements of homage extended to every

member of the hajib’s family, even to infants in the cradle. None of

the monarchs who inherited the sceptre of Moorish Spain had ever

enforced rules of this kind with equal severity, or had environed their

persons with such a net-work of formal and frivolous etiquette. While

the neglect of these ceremonies was followed by exemplary punishment,

the least disparagement of the motives or the conduct of the minister

was a mortal offence. Giafar, Prince of Zab, who commanded the first

troop of Berbers enlisted in the service of Al-Mansur, actuated by

envy, permitted himself to publicly criticise the policy of the hajib.

The latter smiled but said nothing when the offensive language of the

Mauritanian chieftain, whom he had loaded with favors, was reported

to him. A magnificent banquet was soon afterwards given at Zahira,

where Giafar was distinguished by the favor and courtesy of Al-Mansur

above all who were present. The precepts of the law were ignored in

these festivities; the richest wines flowed in profusion; and Giafar,

while he was being conducted to his residence in a state of helpless

intoxication, was waylaid and pierced with the daggers of assassins

employed for that purpose by the minister.

The kingdoms of Christian Spain, none of which, in the tenth century,

could aspire to the importance of a modern principality, and which

were always at variance with each other, habitually disregarded the

vital principle of unity that alone could insure their preservation. A

rivalry which, under the circumstances, was suicidal flourished even

in the presence of the Saracen armies. The mutual hatred engendered

by provincial prejudice was incredibly intense and bitter. The pride

of nationality, the spirit of patriotism, were unknown. Each state

labored to defeat the undertakings of the others, no matter how

meritorious was their object. The seal of the Church was branded upon

all laws and political institutions. The predominating ecclesiastical

element still enacted statutes, elected kings, levied taxes, commanded

armies. Leon was seriously weakened by intestine quarrels. The nobles

were constantly aspiring to the throne, and raising up a succession

of incompetent pretenders. The powerful appanage of Castile had

been permanently alienated from the crown, and enjoyed a nominal

independence without the resources to maintain its lofty pretensions.

Many of the bravest warriors of the North had been tempted by promises

of high pay and abundant booty to renounce their allegiance, and were

now serving under the standard of the khalifate. With the successes

of the Moslems, and the diminution of their own territory, the mutual

distrust of the Christian princes increased, and their isolation from

each other became more and more complete. Their domestic feuds and

irreconcilable antipathies induced them, in turn, to solicit the aid

of their natural enemies, a measure which led to the imposition of

tribute and the acknowledgment of vassalage. The city of Cordova was

filled with Christian exiles, who continually importuned the government

to embrace the cause of their several factions against their kindred

and their countrymen. Some of the most serious and fatal revolutions

which disturbed the peace of the northern states were traceable to this

source, and to the intrigues of proscribed adventurers whose designs it

was manifestly the interest of the Moslems to promote. The difficulties

which beset the youth and inexperience of Ramiro III., King of Leon,

caused him to appeal to the court of Cordova for support against the

usurper Bermudo, who had deprived him of his capital and his crown. In

return for the desired assistance, the dethroned King announced his

willingness to become the feudatory of the Khalif. Before the treaty

was concluded, however, Ramiro died. The partisans of the latter were

numerous and powerful; the color of right as well as superiority of

title would invest any candidate whom they might select; and Bermudo

determined to anticipate their designs, follow the unworthy example of

his deceased rival, and, by the sacrifice of his personal honor and the

independence of his country, retain a portion of the authority he had

illegally acquired. The humiliating concessions demanded by Al-Mansur

were acquiesced in without hesitation by the cowardly usurper; homage

was rendered to the hajib as suzerain; and, menaced by the presence

of a Moslem army, the kingdom of Leon, every foot of which had been

won from the infidels at an immense sacrifice of life and valor, for

the third time since its conquest by the Asturians descended to the

position of a tributary principality.

Having reduced the kingdoms of the North to such a condition of

helplessness that he had nothing to fear from their hostility,

Al-Mansur now directed his attention towards a country which had

long enjoyed immunity from Moslem invasion. The County of Catalonia,

while a nominal appanage of France, was ruled by its chief magistrate

with all the attributes of despotic sovereignty. The weakness or the

apprehensions of former khalifs had deterred them from provoking a

contest which might bring upon them, in addition to their domestic

foes, the united forces of the French monarchy. These fears, however,

were ill founded. The provinces of that kingdom, like those of

Christian Spain, were a prey to internal discord. The society of France

was in a state of transition. A bitter contest was raging between

feudal pretensions and royal prerogative. The crown had no resources

to squander in the defence of a distant and unprofitable dependency,

and the haughty nobles would have resisted an attempt to levy troops

for a campaign of doubtful issue beyond the Pyrenees. All these

facts were known to Al-Mansur, whose spies infested every court in

Europe. His resolution formed, the minister caused the Holy War to be

proclaimed against the Catalans. It was the twenty-third expedition

of his reign. Elated by the hope of fresh victories, volunteers

responded by thousands. A great army was mustered, which was met on

the frontier by the Catalan troops commanded by Count Borel in person.

An engagement took place, but the Christians, long unaccustomed to

war, could not stand before the veterans of the khalifate. They were

defeated with serious loss, and, five days afterwards, Barcelona was

stormed and delivered over to pillage. Of the inhabitants few escaped

death or captivity excepting the Jews, those constant sympathizers

with the Moslems, who, early recognizing the advantageous situation

of Barcelona, had settled there in large numbers, had accumulated

vast fortunes, had risen to unrivalled eminence in the knowledge and

practice of medicine, and had founded commercial establishments whose

interests were protected and whose influence was acknowledged in

every country of the globe. The Count preserved the remainder of his

dominions from a similar fate by the payment of an immense ransom. This

dearly-purchased immunity proved the salvation of Eastern Spain, which,

unable to withstand the attacks of the Moslems, and entirely without

hope of foreign aid, must otherwise have been eventually added to the

realm of Islam.

Turning his piercing glance towards every point of the compass where

a victory could be gained or an enemy humiliated, Al-Mansur now

determined to interfere once more in the affairs of Africa. In that

country the partisans of the House of Ommeyah, after many vicissitudes,

had once more regained the ascendency. But scarcely was this result

accomplished, when Ibn-Kenun, the last prince of the Edrisite dynasty,

who, at his own request, had been sent to Tunis by Al-Hakem, on

condition that he would never again set foot on his ancient domain,

appeared to assert his claims as hereditary sovereign of Mauritania.

For ten years he had been the guest of the Fatimite Khalif of Egypt,

whose real or pretended descent from a common ancestor afforded a

specious pretext for granting the exile protection. Overcome by his

importunities, the Sultan had at length consented to assist his

troublesome kinsman to regain his throne. Negotiations were entered

into with the Berbers. The Egyptian monarch furnished a considerable

sum of money and a detachment of soldiers, and Ibn-Kenun was received

by his former subjects with every manifestation of loyalty. The

Ommeyade cause speedily declined; its partisans were put to flight

in repeated skirmishes; their strongholds fell into the hands of

the enemy, and the dreadful prospect of African invasion once more

confronted the inhabitants of the Peninsula.

It was the intelligence of these disasters, received at Barcelona,

which, far more than the great ransom offered by Count Borel,

determined Al-Mansur to relinquish the conquest of Catalonia. A

division of the victorious army, commanded by Askaledja, cousin of

the hajib, disembarked at Ceuta before Ibn-Kenun knew that Al-Mansur

intended to oppose him. The Edrisite prince was beaten, and surrendered

under condition of a safe-conduct to Cordova, with permission to make

that city his future residence. But in the signing of this convention

the self-esteem of the Saracen general had permitted him to exceed

his authority. The dangerous character of Ibn-Kenun, as well as

considerations of public safety, demanded the adoption of a less

indulgent policy towards such an inveterate foe of the khalifate. The

agreement of Askaledja was repudiated by Al-Mansur, and Ibn-Kenun,

having been brought a prisoner to Algeziras, was beheaded without

ceremony. This flagrant disregard of a solemn treaty, a deed which

not only impugned the honor of the hajib’s lieutenant but was branded

as a horrible sacrilege, caused great dissatisfaction throughout

Andalusia. The victim was one of the descendants of Ali, regarded

by a numerous sect as the incarnation of divinity, and revered by a

majority of believers throughout the Moslem world. The indignation of

the populace found vent in murmurs and menaces. Askaledja, infuriated

beyond measure, went so far as to denounce his superior to the troops

under his command. The maintenance of order and the requirements of

discipline could not tolerate such an exhibition of insubordination;

and the imprudent officer was promptly arrested for treason, found

guilty, and executed. This act of justice, although approved by the

Divan, only aggravated the popular resentment. The minister once more

realized that the empire he had secured by intrigue must be constantly

sustained by arms. It was necessary to divert the attention of the

people from the severe measures indispensable to domestic tranquillity

to meritorious schemes of foreign conquest. An opportune pretext for

a rupture with the King of Leon had recently presented itself. The

Moorish force, entertained by Bermudo under pretence of maintaining his

authority, but really to overawe the usurper and enforce the payment

of tribute, had signalized its residence among the infidels by the

perpetration of every kind of outrage. It was in vain that Bermudo

remonstrated; his complaints were received by the government at Cordova

with silent contempt. Then, adopting the only cause possible under

the circumstances, he appealed to the patriotism of his subjects,

assembled an army, and drove out the obnoxious intruders. The pride

of Al-Mansur could not afford to brook such an insult. A strong body

of Moslems attacked Coimbra, whose remote situation and distance from

the usual field of operations had hitherto insured its safety. It was

taken; its buildings were burned and demolished; and for seven years

afterwards the site of this once flourishing city remained desolate

and uninhabited. From Coimbra, crossing the Douro, the hajib directed

his course straight to the enemy’s capital. Formerly, protected by

its massive fortifications and aided by a winter of unusual severity,

the garrison had been able to defy his efforts to take it by storm.

Leon was the strongest and most important fortress of the North. Its

defences dated from the era of the Roman domination. Its walls, built

by the architects of the Cæsars, measured more than twenty feet in

thickness. Lofty towers, protected by barbicans, rose at frequent

intervals of their extensive circuit, which enclosed houses massed

together and constructed principally of stone. The gates were bronze

and of prodigious weight. They were hung in portals faced with marble

and decorated with carvings and statues. The citadel was considered

absolutely impregnable. The garrison was numerous, experienced in

military operations, and provided with every requisite for a protracted

defence.

But the city once invested, the impetuosity and resolution of the

Moslems disappointed the hopes of the besieged, who expected that the

reverse attending the former attack would be repeated. The reputation

of Al-Mansur was staked upon the issue. Able officers, skilled in the

use of military engines which had descended from Rome and Byzantium,

directed the approaches and superintended the mining of the walls. The

resistance was most obstinate, but, a breach having finally been made,

the veterans of Al-Mansur rushed to the assault. The governor of the

city, Count Gonzalez, whom severe illness had rendered incapable of

action, advised of the progress of the enemy, ordered his attendants

to arm him and carry him to the front. The exhortations and the sight

of its emaciated commander animated the garrison to conspicuous but

unavailing deeds of valor. The front ranks of the Christians were

broken, and the Moslems poured into the breach. The governor, helpless

and bleeding, was killed in his litter at the head of his troops, as

became a gallant and intrepid soldier. Exasperated by the stubborn

resistance they had experienced, the Moslems gave no quarter. The

city, after having been plundered, was razed. The enormous strength of

its defences, the tenacity of the Roman masonry, constructed to defy

alike the slow action of the elements and the destructive efforts of

man, availed nothing against the systematic havoc of the implacable

Al-Mansur. A solitary tower was left standing as a specimen of the

dimensions of those fortifications which had been levelled with the

ground. A vast heap of stones and rubbish marked the site of the

Christian capital, where a populous town had existed from the time of

Augustus, when the camp of the Legio Septima constituted an important

frontier outpost of the Roman empire.

The Saracen army in its march to Leon had flanked Zamora, where Bermudo

had taken refuge. Al-Mansur, on his return, prepared to besiege that

city, and Bermudo took advantage of the prevailing confusion to escape

with the remnant of his followers to Oviedo. Zamora surrendered, and

was forthwith delivered up to the caprices of the licentious soldiery.

Deserted by their monarch, the Leonese nobles hastened to make peace

with the conqueror. Most of them did homage to him for their estates.

The remainder, who declined to sacrifice the prejudices of a lifetime

and disobey the admonitions of the Church for the enjoyment of a

temporary advantage, were rewarded for their loyalty with oppression

and insult. The territory which remained under the control of Bermudo

at the end of this campaign was less in extent than that formerly

possessed by one of his inferior vassals.

The absence of Al-Mansur had been improved by the malcontents who

infested the capital in the formation of a plot which contemplated the

assassination of all of the principal officials of the government, as

well as the Khalif, and the partition of the states of the monarchy.

Abd-al-Rahman-Ibn-Motarrif, governor of the northern frontier, was the

originator of the conspiracy. Abdallah, the oldest son of the minister,

several princes of the blood holding important commands, and a number

of civil and military functionaries whose positions of trust rendered

their complicity the more formidable, were implicated in it. The spies

of Al-Mansur detected this treasonable enterprise before it was fully

matured. The latter, pursuing the course he ordinarily adopted to

disarm suspicion, at first treated the conspirators with conspicuous

marks of favor, and then secretly invited complaints against them for

other offences. Nothing was insinuated of the existence of a plot or

of prosecutions for treason. Some were condemned for dishonesty and

appropriation of the public treasure. Others, among them the son of

Al-Mansur, and another Abdallah, who was of royal lineage and noted

for his avarice, fled to the Christian court for protection. Garcia

Fernandez, Count of Castile, entertained the son of the minister, until

the presence of a great Moslem army admonished him that the privilege

of asylum must yield to political necessity. As soon as the misguided

youth fell into the hands of his father he was beheaded. Then, with

exquisite cruelty, Al-Mansur devised a scheme of retaliation, which,

in spite of its malice, was singularly appropriate. He determined to

inflict upon the Count of Castile himself all the pangs resulting from

paternal disappointment and filial ingratitude. He instigated Sancho,

the son of Garcia, to form a party and drive his father from power. The

nobility unanimously declared for Sancho; a Mussulman force sustained

his pretensions; Al-Mansur seized Clunia and San Estevan as his share

of the spoil; and Garcia, having been wounded and made captive in

a skirmish, died soon afterwards in the hands of the Saracens. The

perfidy of Sancho was rewarded with the government of Castile, which he

held as a feudatory of the Khalif.

The fugitive King, Bermudo, whose usurpation had been attended with a

series of misfortunes, and whose dominions had, with the exception of a

contracted region of which Astorga was the centre, been divided between

his rebellious vassals and the Moors, in defiance of the menaces of

Al-Mansur, still continued to afford protection to Abdallah, the only

survivor of the principal conspirators. The approach of the Mussulman

troops and the seizure and sack of Astorga, convinced the obstinate

monarch of the expediency of submission. Abdallah was surrendered,

taken to Cordova, placed upon a camel, and conducted through the

streets of that city, preceded by heralds who proclaimed him a traitor

to his sovereign and an apostate to his faith. His life was spared, but

he was tortured during the entire administration of Al-Mansur by being

kept in daily fear of execution; a fate which he endeavored to avert

by the most humiliating expressions of contrition, and by exhibitions

of grovelling servility which, so far from exciting the pity of the

minister, only increased his contempt.

A new and implacable adversary, and one whose position placed her

beyond the reach of the minister’s vengeance, now arose to defy his

power. The Sultana Aurora--who united to her amorous susceptibilities

all the obstinacy and vindictiveness of the Basques, to which race she

belonged--had for many years entertained the closest relations with

the favorite whose fortunes she had founded, and whose success she

had so zealously promoted. Their intimacy, even during the lifetime

of Al-Hakem, had been the scandal of the capital. But the lady, like

many of her sex, was inconstant, and other lovers, including the kadi

Ibn-al-Salim, also stood high in her favor. As soon as Al-Mansur no

longer required her services to advance his interests, he had the

imprudence to neglect his haughty mistress. Deeply piqued, she began to

meditate revenge. Her social rank, the inviolability of her person, and

her residence in the palace gave her advantages which she was not slow

to improve. With all the fiery energy of her nature she represented to

the Khalif the degradation of the position he had been compelled to

assume, and urged him to assert his rights as a sovereign. Hischem,

who had hitherto evinced no dissatisfaction with his condition, was

roused from his lethargy. Under his mother’s dictation, he made a

formal demand on the minister for the prerogatives which the latter

had usurped. The viceroy of Africa, Ziri-Ibn-Atia, instigated by the

agents of the Sultana, rose in rebellion, and proclaimed himself the

supporter of the laws of the empire and the champion of its injured

monarch. The ingenuity of Aurora provided her partisans with an

abundant supply of money. The vaults of the palace of Medina-al-Zahrâ,

where was the national treasury, contained six million pieces of gold.

They were deposited in earthenware jars, sealed with wax and impressed

with the royal signet. The astute princess removed a hundred of the

jars, whose contents amounted to the sum of eighty thousand dinars,

broke the seals, covered the gold with honey, drugs, and syrups,

and, having attached to each an appropriate label, caused them to

be conveyed by her slaves to a palace in the city, whence they were,

without delay, transported to Africa. The rage of Al-Mansur on finding

himself thus outwitted by a woman was extreme, but it availed him

nothing. He could not venture to offer violence or even reproaches

to the mother of his sovereign whose servant he was in name. The

trend of recent events suggested that Hischem might have consented

that the money be employed for the recovery of his imperial dignity.

Desirous of obtaining the sanction of law in a matter of such vital

importance, Al-Mansur called the great officers of state together.

To them he represented that the women of the harem were plundering

the treasury, and requested permission to remove the gold from the

palace. This was readily granted; but when the officers exhibited

their warrant, they were refused admission to the vaults, on the

plea that the Khalif had not authorized the removal of the treasure.

Foiled once more, the minister--whose genius, fertile in expedients

and undaunted by reverses, never once despaired of success--devised

a plan whose audacity would have appalled a less determined mortal.

Perfectly familiar with all the approaches to the palace, he penetrated

by a secret passage to the apartments of the Khalif. His unexpected

appearance and menacing aspect terrified the imbecile prince, who

protested that he had no desire to thwart the designs of the minister,

and, without hesitation, signed an order for the removal of the gold.

The politic Al-Mansur, at the same time, extorted from him an edict by

which he unreservedly renounced, in favor of the hajib, all practical

control of the government of the empire. This explicit and indisputable

confirmation of the authority of the latter at once legalized every act

which he had already committed in a public capacity. In a measure, it

invested his person with the sanctity that appertained to his master,

and rendered all liable to the penalty of treason whose intemperate

language or whose violence should be directed against the authorized

representative of absolute sovereignty.

An enterprise of surpassing difficulty and danger, and one which the

bravest of the Ommeyade khalifs had never ventured to undertake, was

now planned by the greatest statesman and warrior of his age. The

shrine of St. James of Compostella was one of the most renowned for

wealth and sanctity in Christendom. In the marvels which had attended

its foundation, in the fame of its miracles, in the number and potency

of its sacred relics, in the touching interest attaching to its

legends, it scarcely yielded to the sacred traditions of the Eternal

City. A countless multitude of pilgrims from every country where the

name of the Saviour was revered had for generations deposited their

oblations upon its altars. The modest chapel which had marked the site

of the apostle’s grave soon after its discovery during the reign of

the pious Alfonso had been replaced by a stately cathedral of marble,

decorated with all the rude magnificence of which the decadent art

of the age was capable. A numerous priesthood, the splendor of whose

appointments and the luxury of whose lives indicated a dispensation

with the vow of poverty, ministered to the wants of the pilgrims, and

acknowledged, with affected gratitude and humility, the bestowal of

their donations and the performance of their vows.

The reverence entertained by the Spanish Christians for the sepulchre

of St. James far exceeded that with which the most fanatic Mussulman

regarded the Prophet’s tomb at Medina. Already, industriously

propagated by monkish imposture and popular credulity, wondrous tales

were whispered of the appearance of the apostle on a milk-white steed

at the head of the Christian squadrons, an infallible harbinger of

victory, and a delusion of ominous import to the Saracen intruders in

the Peninsula. History affords no parallel to the momentous effects

produced by the adoption of this frivolous legend. The circumstances of

its origin, which contemptuously violated every probability of time or

place; its universal acceptance by individuals of every rank in life;

its subsequent extension to the distant lands of an unknown world; the

blind and unquestioning faith with which the impossible miracles of its

subject were received, offer an eloquent commentary on the boundless

influence of the Catholic hierarchy and the debased superstition of the

age.

The destruction of the church of Santiago was now the aim of Al-Mansur.

The depressing influence of such a signal triumph over the adversaries

of Islam, it was thought with much reason, would be incalculable. The

immunity enjoyed by the Christian sanctuary of Spain was attributed by

its votaries to the protection afforded by the body of the saint, far

more than to the natural difficulties which an enemy must surmount to

reach his shrine. Even could an invasion occur and the desecration of

the cathedral be threatened, it was firmly believed that the miraculous

intervention of Heaven--more marked even than that which deterred the

Romans from rebuilding the temple of Jerusalem--would avert such a

calamity from one of the holiest places of the Christian world. The

removal of these impressions, by demonstrating the incapacity of St.

James to defend his own relics, must certainly weaken the faith of the

multitude in his ability to protect the lives of others. The prestige

derived from the interposition of supernatural influence would be

seriously impaired. The menacing spectre of the patron of Spain would

no longer inspire the fanaticism of his followers to strike terror into

the Saracen armies. These conclusions of Al-Mansur, while founded on

reason, in the end proved fallacious. The superstitious veneration,

which, confirmed by blind ignorance and credulity for centuries, now

exercised its power over an entire people, was too deeply rooted to be

more than temporarily affected by the most glaring sacrilege.

The campaign was carefully planned. Every precaution was taken to

provide against any possibility of failure. Marching westward, the

several divisions of Moslem cavalry assembled at Coria. At Oporto they

were joined by the fleet, in which the infantry had already embarked.

A number of Christian vassals, attended by their retainers, responded

to the summons of their suzerain, and lent their reluctant aid to the

injury of their faith and the destruction of their countrymen. The

Douro was crossed upon a bridge constructed of ships. Roads were cut

through rocky and precipitous mountains. Broad estuaries and rivers

were forded. The country, which had long suffered from repeated

forays, was depopulated, and could offer no resistance. When the

mountains of Galicia appeared in the distance, the resolution of the

Christian allies faltered. Some of the counts entered into a secret

correspondence with the enemy. Their designs were betrayed, and a

number of Leonese nobles underwent the extreme penalty of treason. This

salutary example insured the wavering loyalty of their companions, who

henceforth found it expedient to conceal their real sentiments under an

appearance of obedience and alacrity.

The region now traversed by the Moslems had hitherto been safe

from their inroads. This circumstance, the sacred character of the

territory, and the wealth of the clergy had attracted to the vicinity

of Santiago a large and busy population. Ecclesiastical establishments

abounded. Along the hill-sides were countless hermitages, shrines,

and chapels. Almost every valley was occupied by a monastery or a

convent. The lands susceptible of cultivation were tilled by slaves or

dependents of the religious houses, whose condition differed little

from that of hereditary servitude. The mansions of the prelates of

high rank exhibited a palatial magnificence, and were not infrequently

tenanted by occupants of the softer sex, whose charms of face and

figure indicated an appreciation of female beauty hardly to be expected

from their pious companions.

The utter demoralization of the Christian kingdoms through domestic

feuds and incessant warfare, added to the terror inspired by the name

of Al-Mansur, precluded the possibility of effectual resistance. The

inhabitants, taking with them their portable property and the bones of

their saints and kings, fled to the mountains or to islands off the

sea-coast. Santiago was completely deserted. The invaders obtained a

rich booty from the shrines of innumerable chapels and monasteries.

Every building in the city, including the famous cathedral, was razed

to the ground. The latter was constructed of marble and granite.

Its plan and decoration exhibited the corrupt taste and barbaric

splendor inherited from the Visigoths, whose faults of design had been

aggravated by the native rudeness of the Galician architects. In front

of the high altar stood the statue of the saint, carved by the pious

but unpractised hand of a Gothic sculptor, and enclosed in a shrine

of massy silver. Every portion of it except the face was painted or

profusely gilded. One hand clasped a Bible, the other was raised aloft

in the attitude of benediction. The kisses of innumerable pilgrims had

almost obliterated the coarse and grotesque features of the image. By

its side were disposed the emblems of the vagrant apostle, the staff,

the calabash, the scallop shells. Its head was partially enveloped

with a hood identical in shape with that worn by every pilgrim and

glittering with jewels.

The statue and the tomb of the apostle escaped desecration, through

the policy of Al-Mansur, who feared to exasperate his allies, already

shocked by the sacrilegious deeds of their infidel companions in arms.

This forbearance of the Moslem general was afterwards distorted by the

clergy into a stupendous miracle. The Mauritanian cavalry plundered

the neighboring settlements and intercepted many parties of fugitives,

including not a few ecclesiastics, whose faith in the supernatural

virtues of the image and the relics of the saint vanished quickly

before the gleaming lances of the Saracen cavalry.

The return of the army to Cordova was signalized by a military

demonstration that rivalled the pomp of a Roman triumph. In the rear

of the troops, chained together by fifties, thousands of Christian

captives, laden with the spoils and trophies of victory, trudged

painfully along. Some carried the sacrilegious plunder of many a

venerated shrine. Others supported upon their shoulders the ponderous

gates of the city of Santiago. Others, again, sank under the weight of

the bells of the cathedral, into whose molten mass, as yet unformed,

pious devotees of either sex had cast their treasure and their jewels;

whose clangor had solemnized the installation of many a prelate and the

sepulture of many a saint; had aroused the enthusiasm and the devotion

of pilgrims of every clime; had, until this fatal hour, been heard in

a land believed to be exempt from the outrages of the infidel, but

were now destined to be exhibited in his greatest temple as tokens of

the supremacy attained by the most implacable foe of Christianity. In

the addition to the Great Mosque, then building under the direction of

Al-Mansur, these souvenirs of the most memorable campaign undertaken by

the arms of the Western Khalifate were deposited, amidst the frenzied

acclamations of the people. The gates were used to form a portion of

the ceiling, and from them, sustained by chains of bronze, the great

bells were hung inverted, to be utilized as lamps during the ceremonies

of the numerous festivals prescribed by the Moslem ritual.

The career of the Mauritanian rebel Zira-Ibn-Atia, whom the

prodigality of the Sultana Aurora had enabled to assert his

independence, under pretext of liberating the Khalif, was not of

long duration. The first army sent over by Al-Mansur to chastise his

insolence met with disaster. The second, commanded by his own son,

Abd-al-Melik-al-Modhaffer, vanquished the forces of Zira after a

desperate struggle. The latter, with the loss of his possessions, was

also stripped of his power, and died soon after of wounds received in

battle.

Early in the spring of the year 1002 the indefatigable Al-Mansur again

invaded the territory of the Christians. This time his hostility

was directed against the shrine of St. Emilian, the patron saint of

Castile, whose church was in the village of Canales. The town, the

chapel, and the convents, with all their paraphernalia of priestly

imposture and superstition, were destroyed. But the renowned commander,

whose prowess had so long sustained the reputation of the Moslem

arms, had fought his last campaign. A painful malady, whose cause was

unknown, and whose symptoms baffled the skill of the best physicians

of Cordova, had some months before attacked him. The exposure and

excitement of this expedition increased its violence. The illustrious

sufferer became so weak that he was forced to travel in a litter. It

was evident from his emaciated form and incessant agony that he was

fast approaching his end. At Medina-Celi the army halted. Its general

could proceed no farther. A universal feeling of sorrow arose as the

sad tidings of the condition of the dying chieftain spread throughout

the camp.

The memory of the turbulent populace of the capital, and the

consciousness that it had required all the energy of his determined

character to triumph over his domestic enemies, embittered the last

moments of Al-Mansur. He dreaded the inauguration of anarchy and the

resultant partition of the khalifate. He was only too well acquainted

with the instability of the vast and magnificent fabric of greatness

which his genius had reared. With a view to preserve as long as

possible for his sons the power he was unable to legally transmit, he

directed Abd-al-Melik to hasten at once to Cordova and assume command

of the garrison. To his second son, Abd-al-Rahman, he transferred his

authority over the army. Many wise injunctions were imparted by their

dying parent to these two young officers, whose military character

had been formed under his own eye during many eventful campaigns.

The elder, who was not an unworthy descendant of so great a sire,

profited largely by his opportunities. The younger, unequal to the

task of government, was destined to realize the worst expectations his

acquaintances had formed of his erratic and licentious nature.

His instructions ended, the strength of Al-Mansur gave way, and he

received with calm resignation the inexorable summons of the Angel of

Death. For years he had entertained a presentiment that he should end

his days at the head of his army, perhaps in the heat of battle. It was

not only his hope, but he made it the subject of his daily petitions,

that Allah would vouchsafe to him the glorious privilege of dying in

war against the infidel, thereby to merit the recompense of martyrdom.

In expectation of a favorable answer to his prayers, the arrangements

for his burial were always ready. His shroud was invariably included

among the effects of his camp equipage. It was of linen made from flax

grown on his paternal estate at Torrox and woven by the hands of his

own daughters. His conscience told him that the material thus produced

and prepared was not tainted with the bloody reminiscences that popular

report insinuated too often attached to his other possessions. The

provident statesman, whose aspirations were not confined to matters

terrestrial, and carrying into his relations with Allah the same

prudence which had distinguished his earthly career, neglected no

precaution to insure his salvation. A well-known text of the Koran

declares that he who appears before the Almighty with the dust of the

Holy War upon his feet shall be exempt from the tortures of eternal

fire. To secure this advantage on the Day of Judgment, Al-Mansur

carried with him in all his campaigns a silver casket of elegant

design, into which, every evening when the army halted, his attendants

carefully collected the dust which had accumulated upon his garments

during the day. Enveloped in the shroud prepared for so many years, and

sprinkled with this holy dust, the body of the great Moslem general was

laid at rest in the city of Medina-Celi.

The character of Mohammed-Ibn-Amir-Al-Mansur has already been partially

delineated in these pages. In it both good and evil were unsparingly

mingled. Beyond measure shrewd, politic, audacious, and resolute, he

was an adept in instigating others to the commission of discreditable

acts by which he profited, while his instruments alone endured the

odium attaching to them. By the irresistible force of intellect he

had risen from obscurity to the enjoyment of imperial power. No act

of wanton cruelty ever polluted his administration. Yet such was his

firmness and the fear in which he was held that no sedition during

his ascendency disturbed the peace of the khalifate. His conduct on

all occasions where his personal interests were not immediately

concerned was, for the most part, guided by the principles of equity.

His own son was sacrificed to the maintenance of public order. The

deeds of violence and tyranny for which he was so grossly abused

were the results of political necessity,--measures suggested by the

pressing exigencies of the occasion, and dictated by the instinct of

self-preservation. Born in a comparatively humble rank of life, his

matrimonial alliances were sought by princes. The daughters of Bermudo,

King of the Asturias, and Sancho, King of Navarre, were inmates of

his harem. Despite his talents as a statesman and his long series of

military triumphs, his popularity was superficial, and his position

was maintained with difficulty. He was everywhere designated by the

significant and opprobrious nickname of “The Fox.” His old literary

associates envied and maligned him. The courtiers were jealous of

his rapidly acquired fame, and sedulously depreciated his abilities.

The eunuchs justly attributed to his agency the impairment of their

political fortunes, and held him in detestation as the relentless

enemy of their caste. The aristocracy sneered at his pretensions

and privately denounced him as an insolent parvenu. The fanatical

populace repeated his alleged atheistic speeches with pious horror,

a feeling which even his ostentatious charity and apparently strict

observance of the duties of a faithful Mussulman could not counteract.

Inconsistent with the encouragement of literature, as the narrow policy

which delivered the scientific works of the library of Al-Hakem to the

tender mercies of ignorant bigots would seem to indicate, Al-Mansur

was, nevertheless, a munificent patron of letters. His house was so

frequented by men of genius and literary proclivities that it was

compared to an academy. He often visited the University, listened to

the lectures of the teachers, and rewarded the proficiency of the

students. By his express orders the recitations were not suspended

either at his entrance or his departure. Many of the most accomplished

scholars of the East and West continued under his auspices, as they

had done under those of Al-Hakem, to adorn the court, and to delight

with their learning the critical and fastidious society of Cordova.

A special fund, appropriated from the public treasury, was assigned

for the support of these distinguished guests of the State. Famous

grammarians, poets, and historians, who found this a lucrative field

for the exercise of their talents, took up their residence in the

capital. The reputations of the physicians and surgeons of Andalusia,

now greater than ever, had long since spread to the remotest borders

of Europe. Whenever Al-Mansur undertook an expedition, there followed

in his train a number of bards and chroniclers, who could without

delay record his achievements, and celebrate in the most stirring and

pathetic strains of which the poesy of the Desert was capable the

valor, the generosity, the piety, of the renowned champion of the

Moslem faith. Forty-one of the most accomplished literary men of the

empire accompanied the army for this purpose during the Catalonian

campaign.

The enlargement of the Mosque, whose size was doubled by the additions

of Al-Mansur, was undertaken quite as much to restore his failing

credit with the ministers of religion as to accommodate the vast and

increasing crowds which on Fridays assembled in the House of God. The

land required for the extension was paid for at twice the valuation,

already sufficiently exorbitant, estimated by the owners themselves.

In the garden of an old woman, whose premises it was absolutely

necessary for the architect to secure, stood a magnificent palm. At

first she obstinately refused to sell her property, but after repeated

solicitations she consented to exchange it for another residence in

whose grounds was a tree of equal size and beauty. But even amidst the

tropical vegetation of the environs of Cordova such a condition was not

easily complied with. At length, in the vicinity of Medina-al-Zahrâ, an

estate which possessed the desired requisite was procured at a fabulous

price.

In imitation of his predecessors the khalifs, Al-Mansur performed

for weeks the duties of a common laborer on the foundation and

the superstructure of the Mosque. This addition, still intact,

constructed of coarse materials and unsymmetrical in form, is readily

distinguishable from the rest of the interior, whose sweeping horseshoe

arches and exquisite decorations are models of grace and beauty. So

meritorious was this work considered by the Mussulman theologians, that

they declared that its accomplishment alone was sufficient to obtain

for its author a seat in Paradise.

The energy of Al-Mansur was far from being consumed in military

expeditions and the pursuit of glory. In the frequent intervals of

peace his efforts were largely directed to improving the condition

of his subjects, the highest and most noble title to distinction to

which a ruler can aspire. He reformed the abuses which had crept

into the administration of justice. He checked the peculations which

were exhausting the treasury, by the institution of a rigid system

of accounts and the severe punishment of dishonest officials. He

sternly rebuked the intolerance of zealots who attempted to establish,

without his sanction, a policy of persecution for opinions which

they considered heretical. With his advent to power, the malignant

influence of the eunuchs was no longer felt in the precincts of the

court, and the uneasy genius of this pernicious class was diverted

from the tortuous paths of political intrigue to the harmless and

pleasing occupations of literature and art. He improved the breed of

horses by the importation of the purest blood of Arabia. There was

scarcely a river in Andalusia which could not boast of a bridge either

built or repaired by the orders of the able and tireless minister. New

highways were opened. Old ones were widened and extended. By these wise

acts of public utility not only was the march of troops facilitated,

but the trade of country and city was prodigiously increased, with a

corresponding diminution of the price of provisions, whose abundance

and cheapness materially benefited all classes of the population.

The best commentary on his transcendent abilities is found in the

fact that the empire which he had ruled with such glory and success

perished with him. His majestic personality dominated everything. In

the history of Islam no similar example of universally recognized

individual superiority has ever been recorded. This extraordinary

genius seemed impregnable to the temptations which usually assail

the favorites of fortune. He was addicted to none of those unnatural

vices whose practice defiled the characters of even the greatest of

the Ommeyades. His harem was maintained rather as an accessory to his

dignity than as an instrument of his pleasures. His amour with Aurora,

which had provoked the sarcastic jests of the populace, had been from

first to last a mere matter of policy. The passion of the Sultana

he had deliberately used as the instrument of his ambition; when it

had served his purpose it was as deliberately cast aside. With every

opportunity for the accumulation of untold wealth, Al-Mansur acquired

no more than was necessary to sustain the pomp incident to his exalted

rank. Avarice had no place in his nature. His own treasure as well as

that of the government he freely dispensed in charitable donations. The

slightest act of extortion committed by one of his subordinates was met

with chastisement that barely left the offender with life. No one who

had merited his gratitude was ever forgotten in the distribution of

official honors. No one whose insolence had at any time provoked his

indignation went unpunished. In the accomplishment of his ambition,

he persistently ignored the most obvious principles of morality. In

his administration of petty offices of the inferior magistracy and of

the highest employments of the state alike, he ordinarily observed the

rules of the most impartial justice. After every victory gained by his

arms he liberated hundreds of slaves.

A delusive appearance of moderation is suggested by the conduct of

Al-Mansur, when we reflect that he denied himself the more than regal

prestige which attached to the name of Commander of the Faithful.

There is no doubt, however, that he ardently coveted that distinction.

The possession of the substance of power did not satisfy his lofty

aspirations. He arrogated to himself the remaining titles of the

Khalif, as he had already appropriated the latter’s prerogatives. He

substituted his own seal for that of the injured Hischem. He boldly

assumed the right to appoint his son to the office of prime minister,

the very employment from which he himself derived his entire authority.

The brilliancy of his achievements, the extent of his renown, the

autocratic exertion of his power, had awed and dazzled his subjects,

but had not secured their attachment. The masses openly applauded and

secretly detested him. The various nations composing the population

of Moorish Spain, while mutually hostile in many respects, were

firmly united in their reverence for the inalienable rights of the

crown. The religious character which invested the Khalif deepened and

intensified this feeling. The sagacity of Al-Mansur did not suffer

him to be deluded with the idea that he could violate with impunity

the most sacred opinions and prejudices of the people. Moreover, an

ancient tradition, universally believed, declared that a change of the

dynasty portended the speedy destruction of the khalifate. The man

who in defiance of these ideas could attempt open usurpation was a

public enemy, something worse, if possible, than a traitor. For these

cogent reasons, therefore, Al-Mansur did not seize the royal office,

which, had he been able to assume it, might perhaps have retained the

succession in his own family. As it was, he weakened the veneration

entertained for the principle of legitimacy, without acquiring for

his descendants any permanent advantage in return for the sacrifice.

No one realized these facts so thoroughly as himself. The future of

the empire engrossed his thoughts. It presented itself to his mind

amidst the deliberations of the Divan, in the literary discussions of

the University, in the manœuvres on the field of battle. It disturbed

his slumbers. It embittered his dying moments. The mortal torture

he endured from the reflection that by his agency the integrity of

the khalifate had been irretrievably impaired, and that he could not

transmit the inheritance of his glory, was almost as intense as any he

could have experienced through remorse for crimes perpetrated in the

pursuit of his unrighteous ambition.

The history of the campaigns of Al-Mansur differs materially from

that of the military enterprises of his predecessors. Heretofore, in

all important wars, the Christians were the aggressors. But under the

minister of Hischem the Moslems always led the attack. Other rulers

had negotiated treaties either prompted by victory or compelled by

defeat. In twenty-five years he never made terms with the infidel.

His success became habitual, and infused a just confidence into his

own followers, while in a corresponding degree it disheartened the

enemy. Almost for the first time in the annals of Islam the peremptory

injunction of the Koran was fulfilled to the letter. The effects of one

campaign were not repaired before the calamities of another were at

hand. The frontier to the Christian states receded. The great cities

of Zamora, Leon, Astorga, Barcelona, Pampeluna, Santiago were levelled

with the dust. Cathedrals and monasteries were plundered of wealth

bestowed by pious sovereigns and generations of grateful devotees.

The incomes of the priesthood ceased on account of the devastation

of their estates. With the ruin of the religious houses and the

impoverishment of their occupants, the Christian worship declined.

The prestige of the ecclesiastical order was weakened, and over an

extensive region once abounding with churches and convents scarcely a

reminiscence of Christianity survived. By the successive desecration of

the two holiest shrines in Europe, the faith of the multitude in the

boasted efficacy of relics, in the celestial intercession of saints,

and even in the value of religion itself, was seriously shaken. The

misfortunes of the clergy--who still, however, retained a portion of

their ancient discipline--reacted on the other divisions of society,

already sufficiently demoralized. The monarch and the nobles evinced

a disposition to resist the insolent demands of the priesthood, and

have been, in consequence, anathematized by prelates and defamed by

chroniclers. The king seized without ceremony the property of his

subjects. The barons plundered the royal estates, and cast lots for the

serfs and the flocks which they had appropriated. In less than twenty

years the Christians lost all they had gained in the previous three

hundred. Even the defiles of their mountains were occupied by Moorish

garrisons, and the Asturian peasant was compelled to purchase the

uncertain privilege of procuring his own sustenance by the surrender of

the larger share of the results of his labor. Such were the effects

of the policy of Al-Mansur on the two rival nations of the Peninsula,

a policy whose benefits perished with the author, but whose evils were

destined to be augmented and perpetuated through a long period of

national misfortune and disorder.

Berber immigration, encouraged by the conspicuous favor enjoyed by

the African divisions of the army, as well as by the rich rewards of

successful warfare, and which was fated to inflict such disasters

upon the dismembered monarchy, increased beyond precedent during

the administration of Al-Mansur. Entire tribes passed the Strait to

share the tempting spoil of the Holy War. There was no room for these

ferocious soldiers in the crowded cities. Even in the country, so

thickly populated, space could hardly be found for their encampments.

Their tents were pitched in the pastures and on the slopes of the

sierra. Their fierce aspect appalled all who beheld them. Their

costumes and their arms were strange and foreign. Ignorant of Arabic,

the guttural accents of their Mauritanian dialect grated upon the ears

of the polished Andalusian. In times of the greatest victories, when

the people were intoxicated with success, there were discerning men who

dreaded the ascendency of such dangerous allies. It was, however, the

inexhaustible supply of African recruits which secured the unbroken

series of triumphs that signalized the career of Al-Mansur. Their

numbers were overwhelming. In a review held before an expedition into

the North, six hundred thousand troops were mustered in the plain of

Cordova.

The news of the death of the potent minister was received by the

majority of the inhabitants of the capital with a feeling of

exultation. With the multitude, his eminent services could not atone

for the obscurity of his birth or the splendor of his fortune. The

animosities of contending sects, the jealousies of competing tradesmen,

the envy of the masses towards the powerful, the disdain of the wealthy

for the poor, were forgotten in the common desire to humiliate the

family of the great chieftain through whose genius the Moslem empire

had enjoyed such an extraordinary measure of prosperity and fame. An

insurrection broke out. The mob, surrounding the palace, demanded that

the Khalif in person should assume the direction of affairs. But the

latter, who now, more than ever, felt his incompetency to govern, again

voluntarily renounced the rights of sovereignty. The tumult increased;

the garrison was called out, and Al-Modhaffer signalized his accession

as hajib by the massacre of several hundred citizens. This example of

severity was not soon forgotten; the spirit of revolt was crushed,

and Al-Mansur, who on his death-bed had foreseen the occurrence of a

similar catastrophe, thus averted by his prophetic wisdom a rebellion,

which, unchecked, must have been productive of appalling consequences.

The prince, Al-Modhaffer, inherited in no small degree the military

talents and capacity for civil affairs possessed by his father, whose

maxims he in the main adopted. Few details exist relative to his

administration, which, however, was eminently popular and successful.

The expeditions he made into the Christian territory were not attended

with the brilliant results which characterized the exploits of his

father. Neither profit nor glory could be derived from the invasion of

a desert and the chase of bands of wandering robbers. These forays,

however, served the useful purpose of intimidation, and impeded the

recovery of the Christian power. Relieved from the prodigality and

great military expenses incurred by the aggressive policy of Al-Mansur,

the inexhaustible resources of the Peninsula were permitted to develop

to the utmost. Commerce, manufactures, agriculture, flourished to a

degree heretofore unknown. The rule of Al-Modhaffer is regretfully

alluded to by subsequent writers as coincident with the golden age of

Moslem annals.

After a reign of seven years, Al-Modhaffer died, under circumstances

which raised a strong suspicion of poison. By a previous arrangement,

which popular rumor suggested as the motive of his death, his office

was transferred to his brother, Abd-al-Rahman. The latter was the

offspring of a Christian princess, the daughter of Sancho, King of

Navarre. By his vices and his blasphemy he had incurred the dislike of

the people and provoked the execration of the theologians. The former,

in memory of his infidel grandfather, fastened upon him the diminutive

“Sanchol,” an epithet of contempt. The latter recounted with indignant

horror his immoderate indulgence in wine and his open ridicule of the

sacred ceremonies of Islam. Aware of his unpopularity, Abd-al-Rahman

nevertheless continued to outrage public sentiment, and made no

attempt to gain the attachment of his subjects or to conciliate his

ecclesiastical adversaries. He even had the audacity to ask of Hischem

his investiture and acknowledgment as heir presumptive to the throne.

The Khalif was prevailed upon, partly by sophistry, partly by threats,

to comply with this extravagant and impolitic demand, and an edict was

drawn up in due form and published, proclaiming the detested Sanchol

heir to the titles and the authority of the illustrious dynasty of the

Ommeyades.

No measure could have been devised by his most bitter enemy so fatal

to the aspirations of its promoter as this concession wrung from a

reluctant and persecuted sovereign. It was alike an insult to religion

and to loyalty. It attacked the sacred character of the Successor of

the Prophet, while attempting to abrogate the prerogatives which, in

the eye of the devoted subject, were inseparable from the condition

of sovereignty. Sanchol further increased the prevailing discontent

by compelling the soldiers to discard the helmet for the turban, an

innovation which, appropriating a distinctive portion of the attire of

theologians, was generally regarded as a flagrant act of sacrilege.

Careless of public opinion, and confident of the stability of his

power, Sanchol began to entertain aspirations to military distinction.

He led an expedition into the Asturias, the results of which were not

flattering to his vanity. The mountain defiles, filled with snow,

impeded his progress, and the scarcity of provisions, which he had

neglected to provide in sufficient quantities, finally compelled him to

retreat. In the mean time Cordova was in revolt. A band of conspirators

headed by Mohammed, a great-grandson of Abd-al-Rahman III., surprised

the citadel. The unfortunate Hischem, the puppet of every faction, was

compelled to abdicate. The religious fanatics and the populace hailed

the change of government with extravagant expressions of joy, a feeling

by no means shared by the wealthy and intelligent, who anticipated with

undisguised concern the destructive tyranny of a succession of military

adventurers.

The first act of Mohammed was the seizure of Zahira. The stronghold of

the Amirides was entered and sacked by an infuriated rabble. For four

days the beautiful palace founded by Al-Mansur was at the mercy of the

revolutionists and outlaws of the capital. The long rows of villas,

which, embosomed in shady groves of palm- and orange-trees, stretched

away to the Guadalquivir, were visited with the same destruction.

Everything portable, even to the woodwork, was removed. No estimate

could be made of the plunder secured by the mob, who ransacked every

apartment; but the soldiers of Mohammed delivered to their master

two million one hundred thousand pieces of silver and a million five

hundred thousand pieces of gold. The torch was then applied and

the entire suburb was reduced to ashes. The stones were gradually

appropriated for the construction of other buildings, and in a few

years the memory as well as the ruins of the seat of the Amirides had

completely vanished.

When the intelligence of these events was transmitted to Sanchol

at Toledo, he set out at once with his army for Cordova. The march

had scarcely begun before he experienced the full extent of his

unpopularity, which heretofore he had refused to believe. His force

was diminished daily by desertions. Many of the soldiers who remained

refused to obey their officers. At a short distance from the capital,

the Berbers, on whom he placed his main reliance, left the camp at

midnight, and morning found the commander with a slender retinue, whose

number did not equal that of his ordinary body-guard. Notwithstanding

these ominous indications, the infatuation of Sanchol, who fancied

that the people of Cordova would, by the mere effect of his presence,

be induced to return to their allegiance, urged him on to his ruin. He

was seized by the troops of Mohammed, beheaded, his body clothed in

rags and nailed to a stake, and then placed with the head--which was

impaled on a pike--in one of the most public quarters of the city. With

the death of Sanchol, the rule of the Amirides, who, in a subordinate

capacity, had for a generation exercised despotic power, and whose

policy was destined to visit upon their countrymen a long series of

misfortunes, terminated forever.

The pernicious effects of the practical usurpation of Al-Mansur now

became apparent. The ambition of every aspiring partisan was encouraged

by the example of that gifted leader whose extraordinary talents had

raised him to such a height of affluence and renown.

Mohammed was no sooner fairly seated upon the throne, when the populace

again began to murmur. The excitement of revolution, once enjoyed,

was too pleasant to be abandoned for the severe restraints of law and

social order. And in reality only too much cause existed for popular

dissatisfaction. The new sovereign was cruel, rapacious, dissolute. He

took the heads of rebellious vassals sent him by his generals, had them

cleansed, and the skulls--in which flowers had been planted--arranged

in fantastic designs in the garden of his palace. His drunken and

licentious orgies were the reproach of the court. He alienated the

theologians, who soon discovered that they had made a bad exchange for

even the dissipated and impious Sanchol. He persecuted the Berbers,

who had inherited the vices and the unpopularity of the eunuchs, but

who for a quarter of a century had been the support of the monarchy.

To avoid the possible restoration of Hischem, he publicly announced

his death, substituted for his corpse that of a Christian killed for

the occasion, and who bore a striking likeness to the Khalif, and

celebrated his obsequies with all the magnificence due to departed

royalty. The performance of the rites of Mussulman burial over the

body of an infidel was, in the eyes of every true believer, a deed of

unparalleled infamy. The unpopularity of Mohammed increased daily. A

sedition broke out headed by Hischem, a grandson of Abd-al-Rahman III.,

who boldly demanded the crown of his kinsman. The usurper pretended to

accede, and secretly despatched emissaries to incite the Berbers to

plunder the capital. The scheme was successful; at the first appearance

of these detested foreigners in the market-place, the tradesmen arose

in a body and, aided by the royal body-guard, drove the Africans

from the city. The pretender was taken in the confusion attending the

skirmish and immediately executed.

His place was filled by Suleyman, another prince of the Ommeyade line.

Negotiations were entered into with the Count of Castile, who, in

consideration of the surrender of certain territory, agreed to furnish

a large contingent of men and horses. As soon as their organization was

effected, the Berbers marched on the capital. A battle was fought on

the plain of Cantich, but the disorderly rabble of Cordova were unable

to resist the fierce onset of the African cavalry, and ten thousand

of the partisans of Mohammed fell by the sword or perished in the

Guadalquivir. Mohammed then liberated Hischem, whose supposed corpse he

had buried, resigned his dignity, and proclaimed the son of Al-Hakem

sovereign of Spain. But the ruse had no effect. The Cordovans admitted

the Berbers, and Suleyman occupied the palace of the khalifs.

Henceforth the story of the Peninsula is one of anarchy and ruin. Every

province, every hamlet, was a prey to the hatred of contending parties

intensified by the daily infliction of mutual outrages. Christian

mercenaries, paid with the plunder of the enemy, served in the armies

of both factions. The peasantry were robbed and butchered without

mercy. Cordova was repeatedly sacked by the Catalan auxiliaries, by

the Berbers, by ruthless mobs of its own citizens. It endured all

the privations of a protracted siege, all the unspeakable horrors of

famine and pestilence. While the capital was invested by the Berbers,

the suburb of Medina-al-Zahrâ was taken by these savage warriors.

Every being within its limits was slaughtered. The favorite seat of

the khalifs, on whose construction for forty years the wealth of the

empire had been lavished by Abd-al-Rahman and Al-Hakem, was utterly

destroyed. The treasury was empty, and Wadhih, the governor of Cordova

under Hischem,--who had again been made khalif,--was forced to sell the

greater portion remaining of the library of Al-Hakem to obtain money

to pay his troops. At length the Berbers took the city by assault. The

inhabitants dearly expiated the predilection for revolt which they

had so frequently manifested. The butchery was frightful. Families

conspicuous for wealth were reduced in a few hours to abject poverty.

The gutters ran with blood. Heaps of unburied corpses encumbered the

streets. The famous scholars who had been attracted to Spain from

every country in the world perished almost to a man. No considerations

of mercy, policy, or religion restrained the brutal instincts of the

victors. Women and children were cut down or trampled to death. Crowds

of trembling suppliants, who had sought refuge in the mosques, were

massacred. The sanctity of the harems was violated with every attendant

circumstance of lust and cruelty. Palaces erected by the ambition of a

proud and opulent nobility were burned to ashes. With the accession of

Suleyman, an edict confiscating the property of the citizens whom the

public misfortunes had least affected, and banishing the owners, was

promulgated, and the ferocious Africans, who had dealt such a fatal

blow to the civilization of Europe, and in a few months had overturned

a fabric which the intelligence and energy of a line of great princes

had hardly been able to complete in two hundred years, appropriated the

seraglios, and installed themselves in the few remaining mansions whose

luxurious appointments and magnificent gardens had long been the boast

of the Moslem capital.

The dismemberment of the empire now progressed with appalling rapidity.

The chief’s of both factions constantly solicited the aid of the

Christians for the destruction of their adversaries. For a time their

entreaties were heeded, but with each application the surrender of

territory, whose fortresses constituted the security of the frontier

provinces of the khalifate, was required. With the increasing distress

of the party whose nominal head was Hischem, the demands of the Leonese

and Castilian chieftains became more exacting. At length the Count of

Castile threatened that, unless all the strongholds taken and fortified

by Al-Mansur were delivered to him, he would join the Berbers with

the entire force at his command. The cowardice of the government of

Cordova impelled it to make this disgraceful concession. A great

number of fortified places won by the valor of Al-Mansur’s veterans

were evacuated by the Saracen garrisons. Encouraged by the example of

Sancho, the petty sovereigns of Leon and Navarre sent similar messages

to Cordova. The incompetent Wadhih, who exercised the royal power in

the name of the Khalif, terrified by these empty menaces, hastened

to purchase temporary immunity for the capital by the sacrifice of

the remaining bulwarks of the frontier. It was not long before the

Christian princes, without striking a blow or giving any equivalent,

recovered the territory which all the courage and obstinacy of their

fathers had not been able to retain.

The occupation of Cordova by Suleyman was far from obtaining for

him the submission of the remaining cities of the khalifate. The

excesses committed by the Berbers, and the employment of the hated

infidels of Castile, arrayed almost the entire population against

him. The strongholds of the North, through the pusillanimous conduct

of the imperial officials, were irretrievably lost. The governors

of the eastern and western provinces proclaimed their independence.

Thousands of prosperous villages were destroyed; and the plains so

recently covered with luxuriant vegetation again assumed the desolate

appearance they possessed during the disastrous civil wars of the

emirate. So complete was this devastation, that it was said one could

travel for many days northward from Cordova and not encounter a single

human being.

Upon the arrival of Ali, Suleyman’s successor, at the capital, a

thorough search was made for the Khalif Hischem, but without success.

The corpse buried by Mohammed was exhumed, but was not identified as

that of the unfortunate prince. Diligent inquiry failed to elicit

any reliable intelligence concerning the missing monarch. The same

uncertainty envelops the end of the last of the Ommeyades that attaches

to the fate of the last of the Visigoths. Both were the degenerate

heirs of a dynasty of illustrious sovereigns. One lost his crown and

his life directly through the oppression he inflicted on his subjects;

the other indirectly through tyranny endured from an unnatural

relative and an ungrateful minister. Both perished by treason, and

each disappeared in the final catastrophe which overwhelmed his

kingdom. The Khalif Hischem was never seen after the Berbers sacked

the capital. An idle tradition asserted that he escaped the carnage

of that dreadful day and found a refuge in Asia. It is more probable,

however, that he was killed in the confusion of the assault, and that

his body, stripped and unrecognized, was consigned, with those of

thousands of his subjects, to an unknown grave. With him ended the

prosperity, the affluence, the glory of the line of the Ommeyades.

Henceforth, the khalifate, broken into a multitude of independent and

often hostile principalities, offered an easy prey to the enterprise

of the Christians, whose costly experience had finally taught them the

imperative necessity of concerted union.

END OF VOLUME I.

Transcriber’s Notes:

1. Obvious printers’, punctuation and spelling errors have been

corrected silently.

2. Some hyphenated and non-hyphenated versions of the same words have

been retained as in the original.

3. Where hyphenation is in doubt, it has been retained as in the

original.

4. Italics are shown as _xxx_.

History of the Moorish Empire in Europe, Vol. 1 (of 3) · 第 18 / 18 章