capitulation, the troops were clamorous to be permitted to plunder. Amru
again checked their rapacity, and commanded that all persons and
property in the place should remain inviolate, until the will of the
Caliph could be known. So perfect was his command over his troops that
not the most trivial article was taken. His letter to the Caliph shows
what must have been the population and splendor of Alexandria, and the
luxury and effeminacy of its inhabitants at the time of the Moslem
conquest. It states the city to have contained four thousand palaces,
five thousand baths, four hundred theatres and places of amusement,
twelve thousand gardeners which supply it with vegetables, and forty
thousand tributary Jews. It was impossible, he said, to do justice to
its riches and magnificence. He had hitherto held it sacred from
plunder, but his troops, having won it by force of arms, considered
themselves entitled to the spoils of victory.
The caliph Omar, in reply, expressed a high sense of his important
services, but reproved him for even mentioning the desire of the
soldiery to plunder so rich a city, one of the greatest emporiums of the
East. He charged him, therefore, most rigidly to watch over the
rapacious propensities of his men; to prevent all pillage, violence, and
waste; to collect and make out an account of all moneys, jewels,
household furniture, and everything else that was valuable, to be
appropriated toward defraying the expenses of this war of the faith. He
ordered the tribute also, collected in the conquered country, to be
treasured up at Alexandria for the supplies of the Moslem troops.
The surrender of all Egypt followed the capture of its capital. A
tribute of two ducats was laid on every male of mature age, besides a
tax on all lands in proportion to their value, and the revenue which
resulted to the Caliph is estimated at twelve millions of ducats.
It is well known that Amru was a poet in his youth; and throughout all
his campaigns he manifested an intelligent and inquiring spirit, if not
more highly informed, at least more liberal and extended in its views
than was usual among the early Moslem conquerors. He delighted, in his
hours of leisure, to converse with learned men, and acquire through
their means such knowledge as had been denied to him by the deficiency
of his education. Such a companion he found at Alexandria in a native of
the place, a Christian of the sect of the Jacobites, eminent for his
philological researches, his commentaries on Moses and Aristotle, and
his laborious treatises of various kinds, surnamed Philoponus, from his
love of study, but commonly known by the name of John the Grammarian.
An intimacy soon arose between the Arab conqueror and the Christian
philologist; an intimacy honorable to Amru, but destined to be
lamentable in its result to the cause of letters. In an evil hour, John
the Grammarian, being encouraged by the favor shown him by the Arab
general, revealed to him a treasure hitherto unnoticed, or rather
unvalued, by the Moslem conquerors. This was a vast collection of books
or manuscripts, since renowned in history as the Alexandrian Library.
Perceiving that in taking an account of everything valuable in the city,
and sealing up all its treasures, Amru had taken no notice of the books,
John solicited that they might be given to him. Unfortunately the
learned zeal of the Grammarian gave a consequence to the books in the
eyes of Amru, and made him scrupulous of giving them away without
permission of the Caliph. He forthwith wrote to Omar, stating the merits
of John, and requesting to know whether the books might be given to him.
The reply of Omar was laconic, but fatal. "The contents of those books,"
said he, "are in conformity with the _Koran_, or they are not. If they
are, the _Koran_ is sufficient without them; if they are not, they are
pernicious. Let them, therefore, be destroyed."
Amru, it is said, obeyed the order punctually. The books and manuscripts
were distributed as fuel among the five thousand baths of the city; but
so numerous were they that it took six months to consume them. This act
of barbarism, recorded by Abulpharagius, is considered somewhat doubtful
by Gibbon, in consequence of its not being mentioned by two of the most
ancient chroniclers, Elmacin in his Saracenic history, and Eutychius in
his annals, the latter of whom was patriarch of Alexandria and has
detailed the conquest of that city. It is inconsistent, too, with the
character of Amru as a poet and a man of superior intelligence; and it
has recently been reported, we know not on what authority, that many of
the literary treasures thus said to have been destroyed do actually
exist in Constantinople. Their destruction, however, is generally
credited and deeply deplored by historians. Amru, as a man of genius and
intelligence, may have grieved at the order of the Caliph, while, as a
loyal subject and faithful soldier, he felt bound to obey it.
The fall of Alexandria decided the fate of Egypt and likewise that of
the emperor Heraclius. He was already afflicted with a dropsy, and took
the loss of his Syrian and now that of his Egyptian dominions so much to
heart that he underwent a paroxysm, which ended in his death, about
seven weeks after the loss of his Egyptian capital. He was succeeded by
his son Constantine.
While Amru was successfully extending his conquests, a great dearth and
famine fell upon all Arabia, insomuch that the caliph Omar had to call
upon him for supplies from the fertile plains of Egypt; whereupon Amru
despatched such a train of camels laden with grain that it is said, when
the first of the line had reached the city of Medina, the last had not
yet left the land of Egypt. But this mode of conveyance proving too
tardy, at the command of the Caliph he dug a canal of communication from
the Nile to the Red Sea, a distance of eighty miles, by which provisions
might be conveyed to the Arabian shores. This canal had been commenced
by Trajan, the Roman emperor.
The able and indefatigable Amru went on in this manner, executing the
commands and fulfilling the wishes of the Caliph, and governed the
country he had conquered with such sagacity and justice that he rendered
himself one of the most worthily renowned among the Moslem generals.
The life and reign of the caliph Omar, distinguished by such great and
striking events, were at length brought to a sudden and sanguinary end.
Among the Persians who had been brought as slaves to Medina, was one
named Firuz, of the sect of the Magi, or fire-worshippers. Being taxed
daily by his master two pieces of silver out of his earnings, he
complained of it to Omar as an extortion. The Caliph inquired into his
condition, and, finding that he was a carpenter, and expert in the
construction of windmills, replied that the man who excelled in such a
handicraft could well afford to pay two _dirhems_ a day. "Then,"
muttered Firuz, "I'll construct a windmill for you that shall keep
grinding until the day of judgment." Omar was struck with his menacing
air. "The slave threatens me," said he, calmly. "If I were disposed to
punish anyone on suspicion, I should take off his head"; he suffered
him, however, to depart without further notice.
Three days afterward, as he was praying in the mosque, Firuz entered
suddenly and stabbed him thrice with a dagger. The attendants rushed
upon the assassin. He made furious resistance, slew some and wounded
others, until one of his assailants threw his vest over him and seized
him, upon which he stabbed himself to the heart and expired. Religion
may have had some share in prompting this act of violence; perhaps
revenge for the ruin brought upon his native country. "God be thanked,"
said Omar, "that he by whose hand it was decreed I should fall was not a
Moslem!"
The Caliph gathered strength sufficient to finish the prayer in which he
had been interrupted; "for he who deserts his prayers," said he, "is not
in Islam." Being taken to his house, he languished three days without
hope of recovery, but could not be prevailed upon to nominate a
successor. "I cannot presume to do that," said he, "which the prophet
himself did not do." Some suggested that he should nominate his son
Abdallah. "Omar's family," said he, "has had enough in Omar, and needs
no more." He appointed a council of six persons to determine as to the
succession after his decease, all of whom he considered worthy of the
caliphate; though he gave it as his opinion that the choice would be
either Ali or Othman. "Shouldst thou become caliph," said he to Ali, "do
not favor thy relatives above all others, nor place the house of Haschem
on the neck of all mankind "; and he gave the same caution to Othman in
respect to the family of Omeya.
Ibn Abbas and Ali now spoke to him in words of comfort, setting forth
the blessings of Islam, which had crowned his administration, and that
he would leave no one behind him who could charge him with injustice.
"Testify this for me," said he, earnestly, "at the day of judgment."
They gave him their hands in promise; but he exacted that they should
give him a written testimonial, and that it should be buried with him in
the grave.
Having settled all his worldly affairs, and given directions about his
sepulture, he expired, the seventh day after his assassination, in the
sixty-third year of his age, after a triumphant reign of ten years and
six months.
Three days after the death of Omar, Othman Ibn Affan was elected as his
successor. He was seventy years of age at the time of his election. He
was tall and swarthy, and his long gray beard was tinged with henna. He
was strict in his religious duties, but prone to expense and lavish of
his riches.
"In the conquests of Syria, Persia, and Egypt," says a modern writer,
"the fresh and vigorous enthusiasm of the personal companions and
proselytes of Mahomet was exercised and expended, and the generation of
warriors whose simple fanaticism had been inflamed by the preaching of
the pseudo-prophet was in a great measure consumed in the sanguinary and
perpetual toils of ten arduous campaigns."
We shall now see the effect of those conquests on the national character
and habits; the avidity of place and power and wealth superseding
religious enthusiasm; and the enervating luxury and soft voluptuousness
of Syria and Persia sapping the rude but masculine simplicity of the
Arabian desert. Above all, the single-mindedness of Mahomet and his two
immediate successors is at an end. Other objects besides the mere
advancement of Islamism distract the attention of its leading
professors; and the struggle for worldly wealth and worldly sway, for
the advancement of private ends, and the aggrandizement of particular
tribes and families, destroy the unity of the empire, and beset the
caliphate with intrigue, treason, and bloodshed.
It was a great matter of reproach against the caliph Othman that he was
injudicious in his appointments, and had an inveterate propensity to
consult the interests of his relatives and friends before that of the
public. One of his greatest errors in this respect was the removal of
Amrou ben-el-Ass from the government of Egypt, and the appointment of
his own foster-brother, Abdallah Ibn Saad, in his place. This was the
same Abdallah who, in acting as amanuensis to Mahomet, and writing down
his revelations, had interpolated passages of his own, sometimes of a
ludicrous nature. For this and for his apostasy he had been pardoned by
Mahomet at the solicitation of Othman, and had ever since acted with
apparent zeal, his interest coinciding with his duty.
He was of a courageous spirit, and one of the most expert horsemen of
Arabia; but what might have fitted him to command a horde of the desert
was insufficient for the government of a conquered province. He was new
and inexperienced in his present situation; whereas Amru had
distinguished himself as a legislator as well as a conqueror, and had
already won the affections of the Egyptians by his attention to their
interests, and his respect for their customs and habitudes. His
dismission was, therefore, resented by the people, and a disposition was
manifested to revolt against the new governor.
The emperor Constantine, who had succeeded to his father Heraclius,
hastened to take advantage of these circumstances. A fleet and army were
sent against Alexandria under a prefect named Manuel. The Greeks in the
city secretly cooperated with him, and the metropolis was, partly by
force of arms, partly by treachery, recaptured by the imperialists
without much bloodshed.
Othman, made painfully sensible of the error he had committed, hastened
to revoke the appointment of his foster-brother, and reinstated Amru in
the command in Egypt. That able general went instantly against
Alexandria with an army, in which were many Copts, irreconcilable
enemies of the Greeks. Among these was the traitor Mokawkas, who, from
his knowledge of the country and his influence among its inhabitants,
was able to procure abundant supplies for the army.
The Greek garrison defended the city bravely and obstinately. Amru,
enraged at having thus again to lay siege to a place which he had twice
already taken, swore, by Allah, that if he should master it a third
time, he would render it as easy of access as a brothel. He kept his
word, for when he took the city he threw down the walls and demolished
all the fortifications. He was merciful, however, to the inhabitants,
and checked the fury of the Saracens, who were slaughtering all they
met. A mosque was afterward erected on the spot at which he stayed the
carnage, called the Mosque of Mercy. Manuel, the Greek general, found it
expedient to embark with all speed with such of his troops as he could
save, and make sail for Constantinople.
Scarce, however, had Amru quelled every insurrection and secured the
Moslem domination in Egypt, when he was again displaced from the
government, and Abdallah Ibn Saad appointed a second time in his stead.
Abdallah had been deeply mortified by the loss of Alexandria, which had
been ascribed to his incapacity; he was emulous, too, of the renown of
Amru, and felt the necessity of vindicating his claims to command by
some brilliant achievement. The north of Africa presented a new field
for Moslem enterprise. We allude to that vast tract extending west from
the desert of Libya or Barca to Cape Non, embracing more than two
thousand miles of sea-coast; comprehending the ancient divisions of
Mamarica, Cyrenaica, Carthage, Numidia, and Mauritania; or, according to
modern geographical designations, Barca, Tripoli, Tunis, Algiers, and
Morocco.
Toward this rich land of promise, yet virgin of Islamitish seed,
Abdallah, at the head of the victorious Saracens, now hopefully bent his
ambitious steps.
EVOLUTION OF THE DOGESHIP IN VENICE
A.D. 697
WILLIAM CAREW HAZLITT
The early authentic history of Venice is intimately connected with
that of the Lombards, of whom the first mention is made by
Paterculus, the Roman historian, who wrote during the first quarter
of the first century of our era. He speaks of the Langobardi[68]
(Lombards) as dwelling on the west bank of the Elbe. Tacitus also
mentions them in his _Germany_. From the Elbe they wandered to the
Danube, and there encountered the Gepidæ, a branch of the Goths.
The Lombards subdued this tribe, after a contest of thirty years.
By this victory Alboin, the young Lombard King, rose to great power
and fame. His beauty and renown were sung by German peasants even
in the days of Charlemagne. His name "crossed the Alps and fell,
with a foreboding sound, upon the startled ears of the Italians,"
and toward Italy he turned for conquest. From Scythia and Germany
adventurous youth flocked to his standard. Many clans and various
religions were represented in his ranks, but these diversities were
overshadowed by a common devotion to the hero-leader.
In 568 the Lombards marched from Pannonia into Italy, conquered the
northern part, still called Lombardy, and founded the kingdom of
that name, which was afterward greatly extended, and existed until
overthrown by Charlemagne in 774.
Before the invading hosts of Alboin, wealthy inhabitants of the
larger cities of the province of Venetia fled to the islands of
Venice, where earlier fugitives had sought shelter from King Attila
and his Huns. A thriving maritime community had been established,
which about this time had developed into a semi-independent
protectorate of the Byzantine or Eastern Empire, attached to the
exarchate of Ravenna.
Afterward Venice underwent many political changes, among which one
of the most interesting to students of history is that of the
institution of the dogeship, as hereafter related. This step was
taken for more than one reason of internal organization and policy,
and it was also made urgent by the encroachments of the Lombards,
which had become a menace to Venetian territory and commerce.
The republic (Venetian) on her part contemplated with inquietude the
rise of one monarchy after another on the skirts of the Lagoon, for the
Venetians not unnaturally feared that as soon as these fresh usurpers
had established themselves, they might form the design of adding the
islands of the Adriatic to their dominion, and of acquiring possession
of the commercial advantages which belonged to the situation held by the
settlers. For the Lombards, though not ranking among maritime
communities, were not absolutely strangers to the laws of navigation, or
to the use of ships, which might place them in a position to reduce to
their control a small, feeble, and thinly peopled area, separated from
their own territories only by a narrow and terraqueous strait. Moreover,
the predatory visits of Leupus, duke of Friuli, whose followers
traversed the canals at low tide on horseback, and despoiled the
churches of Heraclia, Equilo, and Grado, soon afforded sufficient proof
that the equestrian skill of the strangers was capable of supplying to
some extent any deficiency in nautical knowledge.
Venice at present formed a federative state, united by the memory of a
common origin and the sense of a common interest; the _arrengo_, which
met at Heraclia, the parent capital, at irregular intervals to
deliberate on matters of public concern, was too numerous and too
schismatical to exercise immediate control over the nation; and each
island was consequently governed, after the abolition of the primeval
consulate, in the name of the people, by a _gastaldo_ or tribune, whose
power, nominally limited, was virtually absolute. This administration
had lasted nearly two centuries and a half, during which period the
republic passed through a cruel ordeal of anarchy, oppression, and
bloodshed. The tribunes conspired against each other; the people
rebelled against the tribunes. Family rose against family, clan against
clan. Sanguinary affrays were of constant occurrence on the thinly
peopled _lidi_, and amid the pine-woods, with which much of the surface
was covered; and it is related that in one instance at least the bodies
of the dead were left to be devoured by beasts and birds of prey, which
then haunted the more thickly afforested parts.
Jealousy and intolerance of the pretensions of Heraclia to a paramount
voice in the policy of the community may be securely assigned as the
principal and permanent source of friction and disagreement; but the
predominance of that township seems to have resisted every effort of the
others to supplant its central authority and wide sphere of influence;
and during centuries it preserved its power, through its ostensible
choice as the residence of the most capable and influential citizens.
The scandalous and destructive outrages attendant on the rule of the
tribunes had become a vast constitutional evil. They sapped the general
prosperity; they obstructed trade and industries; they made havoc on
public and private property; they banished safety and repose, and they
impoverished and scandalized the Church.
The depredations of the Lombards, which grew in the course of time
bolder and more systematic in their character, certainly indicated great
weakness on the part of the government. Yet it was equally certain that
the weakness proceeded less from the want than from the division of
strength.
The sacrilegious inroads were not without their beneficial result; for
they afforded those who might be disposed to institute reforms an
admirable ground not only for bringing the matter more closely and
immediately under the public observation, but they enlisted in the cause
the foremost ecclesiastics, who might recognize in this internal
disunion a danger of interminable attacks and depredations from without,
if not an eventual loss of political independence; and, accordingly, in
the course of the spring of 697-698, the patriarch of Grado himself
submitted to the arrengo at Heraclia a scheme, which had been devised by
him and his friends, for changing the government. The proposal of the
metropolitan was to divest the tribunes of the sovereignty, and to have
once more a magistrate (_capo dei tribuni_), in whom all power might be
concentrated. His title was to be duke. His office was to be for life.
With him was to rest the whole executive machinery. He was to preside
over the synod as well as the arrengo, either of which it was competent
for him to convoke or dissolve at pleasure; merely spiritual matters of
a minor nature were alone, in future, to be intrusted to the clergy; and
all acts of convocations, the ordination of a priest or deacon, the
election of a patriarch or bishop, were to be subject to the final
sanction of the ducal throne. In fact, the latter became virtually, and
in all material respects, autocrat of Venice, not merely the tribunes,
but even the hierarchy, which was so directly instrumental in creating
the dignity, having now no higher function than that of advisers and
administrators under his direction; and it was in matters of general or
momentous concern only that the republic expected her First Magistrate
to seek the concurrence or advice of the national convention.
In a newly formed society, placed in the difficult situation in which
the republic found herself at the close of the seventh century, and
where also a superstitious reverence for the pontiff might at present
exist, apart from considerations of interest, it ought to create no
surprise that the patriarch and his supporters should have formed a
unanimous determination, and have taken immediate steps to procure the
adhesion of the Holy See, before the resolutions of the popular assembly
were definitively carried into effect.
This measure simply indicates the character of the opinions which were
received at the time in Europe, as well as the strong consciousness on
the part of the patriarch, and those who acted with him, of the
expediency of throwing the voice and countenance of the Church into the
scale alike against the tribunitial oligarchy and against local
jealousies and prejudices. There was perhaps in this case the additional
inducement that the proposal to invest the doge with supreme power and
jurisdiction over the Church, as well as over the state, might seem to
involve an indirect surrender, either now or hereafter, on the part of
the Holy See of some of its power, as a high-priest or grand pontiff,
who was also a secular prince, might prove less pliant than an ordinary
liegeman of the Church. But the men of 697 acted, as we must allow,
sagaciously enough, when they presented their young country to the
consideration of the papacy as possessing a party of order, into which
the Church entered, and from which it now stood conspicuously and
courageously out to take this very momentous initiative.