nevertheless, regarded his wealth with envy and his popularity with
disdain, the Kadi was offered the supreme magistracy. The character
of this personage, whose descendants played a prominent part in the
subsequent events of Andalusia, was a singular compound of executive
ability, profound dissimulation, and insatiable avarice. Unlike the
aristocratic ruler of Cordova, his origin was mean and plebeian. The
eminent genius of his father Ismail, who attained to equal distinction
in the widely different professions of arms, theology, and law, first
attracted public notice to a family inconspicuous as yet except for the
honorable principles and the plodding industry of its members. He had
transmitted to his son a large share of his talents; but Abul-Kasim
was deficient in those virtues which in a responsible station often
compensate for the absence of distinguished abilities. His office of
kadi, which he had secured by flattery and retained by treason, he
valued only as a stepping-stone to absolute power. Aware that the
tender of sovereignty was not a recognition of superior merit, but a
shrewd artifice of the nobles by which, in case of the restoration of
the House of Ibn-Hamud to the throne, their caste might contrive to
escape and the wrath of the avenger be concentrated on the head of an
individual whose obscure birth, dignified by immense possessions and
ever-increasing influence, rendered him peculiarly obnoxious to the
aristocratical order, Abul-Kasim declined the invidious distinction.
When urged to reconsider his decision, he finally consented to accept,
provided councillors of his own choice were associated with him in the
administration. This having been readily conceded, he appointed several
of the most prominent and haughty members of the Sevillian nobility,
whose protection might be secured or their treasonable complicity
established in the event of a counter-revolution, together with a
number of his own dependents, who had little to recommend them but a
talent for intrigue and a blind devotion to the interests of their
patron.
The first efforts of Abul-Kasim were directed to the establishment
of a military force. For the first time since the Conquest, Seville
was left absolutely destitute of the ordinary means of defence. With
the expulsion of the Berbers, the last individual trained in the
profession of arms had disappeared. The arsenal was well provided
with military supplies, but neither the magistrate nor the people
had the least practical knowledge of the equipment or the discipline
indispensable for the effective organization of an army. The genius of
Abul-Kasim was, however, not daunted by even apparently insuperable
obstacles. He established recruiting stations in every settlement which
acknowledged the jurisdiction of Seville. The tempting inducements
offered--pay greatly exceeding that usually allowed the soldiers of the
khalif and the assurance of unrestricted pillage--soon lured to his
standard crowds of needy and rapacious adventurers. The exigencies
of the occasion forbade a critical scrutiny of the nationality or
the antecedents of these volunteers. Arabs, Berbers, Christians, and
foreigners were enlisted without hesitation. In accordance with a
well-established precedent, the slave-markets were ransacked and the
warlike natives of Nubia and the Soudan purchased, and marshalled
side by side with political refugees, escaped criminals, and the
dregs of the Sevillian populace. The excesses of military license,
long practised with impunity, had rendered the profession of a
soldier highly unpopular and even disreputable, and few citizens
of honorable connections and irreproachable character could now be
induced to voluntarily incur the odium attaching to a class universally
regarded as the scourge of society. By untiring diligence and lavish
expenditure, Abul-Kasim finally succeeded in collecting a force of a
few hundred men. No more significant indication of the decadence of
the Moslem empire could be adduced than the fact that among a people
renowned for martial ardor and long accustomed to warfare an army of
sufficient strength to defend the most populous city of the Peninsula
could not be raised even by bounties, by the hope of plunder, or by
purchase.
The difficulties arising from the anomalous political condition
of Seville were well known to the petty princes of the shattered
khalifate. The prize which the rich and defenceless city offered to
the ambition of an enterprising commander was too tempting to long
remain secure. Yahya, the son of Ali, the Edrisite Khalif who had
recently refused to trust his person among the perfidious inhabitants
of Cordova after they had tendered him the government and who now ruled
the principality of Malaga, suddenly appeared with a powerful Berber
army before the walls of Seville. Resistance was impossible, and Yahya
was informed that the city would acknowledge his pretensions if his
soldiers were not permitted to enter the gates. This proposition he was
not unwilling to accept, but demanded, as an indispensable preliminary,
the delivery of hostages, to be selected from the families of the most
prominent citizens and the nobility. When this condition was proposed,
negotiations were at once suspended, for no one was prepared to incur
the risk. The Berbers had never renounced their savage practices.
They were not accustomed to observe the faith of treaties, even where
their own interests were concerned. The massacre of captives and
hostages was in perfect accordance with their sanguinary instincts,
and a sudden caprice, or the fear of escape, might in an instant cause
the annihilation of the flower of the Sevillian youth. In this trying
emergency neither the patriotism nor the confidence of Abul-Kasim in
his good fortune deserted him. He placed his own son in the hands of
the Berber prince, and removed the apprehensions of his countrymen by
convincing Yahya that this pledge was a sufficient warrant for the
fidelity of the people. Relying on the authority vested in a nominal
sovereign, the Kadi now seized the opportunity of delivering himself
from his councillors, and they were, one after another, under various
pretexts, dismissed from office. Animated by the hope of one day being
able to assert his independence, he next devoted his energies to the
acquisition of new territory and the consolidation of his power. The
noble self-sacrifice he had exhibited in exposing his son to danger for
the public welfare had raised his character in the estimation of every
class of citizens. The nobility regarded him with undisguised gratitude
and admiration. His popularity with the masses, now liberated from the
insults of the soldiery, was unbounded. The faquis extolled the justice
and generosity of a magistrate who had removed the tyrannical exactions
imposed on their order. Secure of the devotion of the army, whose
interests he was careful never to neglect, the Kadi, having formed
an alliance with the governor of Carmona, began to make incursions
into the dominions of the princes who surrounded him. He overran the
province of Beja. He plundered the settlements on the sea-coast west
of Cadiz. The son of the Emir of Badajoz was defeated by his troops
and taken prisoner. He even menaced Cordova, and compelled Ibn-Djahwar
and his colleagues to enlist Berber mercenaries for its defence. He
projected an expedition against the Christians, which failed on account
of the treachery of the Emir of Badajoz, who repaid the previous
misfortune to his arms with an ambuscade, which inflicted serious
injury on the forces of Abul-Kasim and caused his retreat.
Meanwhile, the isolated states and communities of the ancient khalifate
were threatened with the recurrence of a deplorable political and
social calamity. The depopulated provinces of Southern Spain, the
incessant prevalence of hostility, the desire of sharing in the
spoils of a country where their race had obtained incalculable wealth
and absolute power, the insatiable thirst of military adventure,
had produced, since the exaltation of the House of Ali, an enormous
African immigration. The Berbers now swarmed in countless numbers over
the plains to the south and west of the Sierra Morena, a region once
considered the garden of Andalusia, and where their flocks still found
a rich and abundant pasturage. Heretofore the allegiance of these
unruly adventurers had been divided among a hundred petty chieftains,
apparently incapable of harmony and united in nothing save an undying
hatred of the indigenous population. Now, however, the case was
altered. A national sentiment had arisen, which was soon confirmed
by the inspiration of numbers, by the consciousness of strength, by
the remembrance of injury, and by the hope of revenge. All eyes were
turned towards Yahya, the ruler of Malaga, who, a Berber by descent and
traditions, was also the representative of an African dynasty, and,
for that reason, admirably qualified to be the leader of a national
movement. The universal enthusiasm was artfully encouraged by the
secret emissaries of the prince. The chieftains, with singular accord,
surrendered their precarious authority. The passions of the barbarians
were inflamed with the prospect of booty, and Yahya was publicly
recognized as the head of the entire Berber party.
No such unanimity of thought and action had, before this time, ever
been evinced by the turbulent and mutually jealous colonists from
Africa. The alliances of the various tribes had always been of
temporary duration, formed and maintained by necessity in the face
of an enemy. At the conclusion of a campaign each clan resumed the
unrestrained liberty and patriarchal independence incident to a
pastoral life. But the present organization promised to be permanent,
and was consequently fraught with danger. It augured ill for the
prevalence of civilized institutions in Europe that the country which,
even under the most adverse political conditions, had preserved
in a large measure its intellectual superiority and its artistic
excellence should become the prey of ruthless barbarians, who had
already desolated its fairest provinces and levelled its most beautiful
architectural monuments with the earth. The moment was a most favorable
one for the realization of this ominous scheme of barbarian ambition.
The people of the Moslem States of Spain were inflamed with sentiments
of mutual suspicion and hatred. The two great cities of Cordova and
Seville were experimenting with a novel and untried form of government.
The only ally of the latter, the governor of Carmona, had recently been
disposed of by the conquest of his territory and its annexation to the
principality of Malaga. But one possibility existed of counteracting
the impending ruin. Could a coalition of the parties hostile to Berber
supremacy be formed, the destruction of all the beneficial results
accomplished by the Ommeyade dynasty might be averted. This plan,
however, despite its obvious necessity, seemed impracticable. The
reciprocal enmity maintained by citizens of the various principalities
was far more violent than the apprehension with which they regarded the
possible restoration of African tyranny. Some had sustained, others
had inflicted, unpardonable injuries upon their neighbors. In many
instances the despised Christian had been called in to contribute to
the humiliation of an execrated but too powerful adversary. By this
means, so repugnant to the principles of a conscientious Moslem, the
coveted vengeance had been secured. Fine estates had been laid waste.
Families had been extirpated. Entire districts had been swept by
conflagration. The sanctity of the harem, so dear to every Oriental,
had been profaned by the cruel insults and shameless lubricity of the
gigantic and repulsive barbarians of the North, and their blasphemous
jests had echoed through the stately colonnades of Moslem temples, the
desecration of whose hallowed precincts by infidels was, under the law
of Islam, punishable with death.
The penetrating sagacity of Abul-Kasim had early foreseen the impending
misfortune as well as the appropriate remedy. The method he pursued
in the application of that remedy does great credit to his political
ingenuity and administrative genius. It was apparent at a glance
that he himself, as the head of a coalition, would not receive the
support of even those whose property and liberties were in imminent
peril. Prejudice against the obscurity of his birth, jealousy of his
talents and his authority, fear of the consequences of his ambition,
would prevent that general co-operation of all factions indispensable
to success. He therefore resolved to avail himself of a threadbare
artifice, which had already more than once been practised with
surprising results by unscrupulous aspirants to power. He determined
to again resurrect the unfortunate Hischem II., by the assistance of
his name rescue the Peninsula from the threatened Berber domination,
and, having consolidated its scattered fragments, to claim as his
own reward the sovereignty of the restored khalifate. The fate of
the royal puppet of Al-Mansur had never been absolutely ascertained.
One account--probably the most correct one--declared that he had
perished when Cordova was sacked by the Berbers. Another attributed
his death to the relentless cruelty of the tyrant Suleyman. The
tales of mendacious travellers, who declared that they had seen and
conversed with him in Arabia and Palestine, were eagerly received
and industriously circulated by the ignorant populace, powerfully
influenced by every tale of wonder and mystery. The attachment of
all classes to the memory of this degenerate monarch was extravagant
and almost inexplicable. He was endowed with none of those splendid
qualities which are commonly associated with the office of royalty.
Retained for years in rigid seclusion and veiled whenever he appeared
in public, his features and his demeanor were alike unfamiliar to his
subjects. The selfish and unprincipled ambition of an aspiring minister
had, by the application of every device of sensual pleasure, reduced
a mind of more than ordinary parts to the verge of imbecility. Of
the innumerable and brilliant achievements of his nominal reign not
one could be even indirectly attributed to his personal influence or
to his counsel. The lustre which illuminated the throne of Hischem
II., whose victorious standards moved forward with unbroken success
for almost a generation, was only the reflected glory of the hajib,
Al-Mansur. But personal disadvantages and misfortune rather enhanced
than diminished his popularity, which grew with the progress of time.
Amidst the confusion and wide-spread disaster of foreign invasion and
intestine conflict, the intellectual defects and abandoned vices of
the last of the Ommeyades were forgotten. Only the military triumphs
and domestic security of a period made illustrious under his auspices
now appealed to the sympathy and the pride of the persecuted nobles,
citizens, and peasantry. They remembered that during his reign, twice
in every year for a quarter of a century, the Christian frontier had
receded for many leagues before the irresistible impetus of the Moslem
arms. They recalled with exultation that the trophies of the holiest of
Spanish shrines had been suspended in the magnificent mosque of their
capital. There existed still in the memory of the aged reminiscences of
great military displays on the eve of a Holy War; of convoys guarding
the rich spoils wrested from the infidel; of splendid embassies which
proffered the friendship or the allegiance of distant kingdoms;
of interminable processions of manacled and dejected captives; of
the impressive chants which, publicly recited on the occasion of a
triumph, attested the gratitude of the fanatical and the devout; of
the deafening acclamations of assembled thousands. Repetitions of
the romantic fables which purported to relate the wanderings and the
distress of Hischem had invested these accounts with a plausibility
which their manifold inconsistencies never merited. The impossibility
of some, the obvious contradictions of others, the uncertain and
suspicious origin of all, were overlooked. It was sufficient for the
uncritical and excitable masses that a khalif whose reign had been
identified with the most famous epoch of Moslem greatness might
possibly be still alive. Under these circumstances, every ridiculous
legend concerning his appearance and his occupations, every new tale of
his condition and his movements, invented by imaginative foreigners,
obtained the ready credence of persons whose education and whose
knowledge of the world should have at once detected their absurdity.
In the city of Calatrava there had lived for several years a weaver
of mats, who in age, mental characteristics, and personal appearance
was said to bear an extraordinary resemblance to the missing Hischem.
The birthplace and the antecedents of this individual, whose name
was Khalaf--an appellation in itself suggestive from its similarity
to the title of sovereignty--were unknown. His reticence on this
point confirmed the rash assumption of his imperial descent, and the
consideration with which he was regarded by his townsmen having aroused
his ambition, he publicly declared his identity with the Ommeyade
prince. The people, already half convinced, supported the imposture,
which rested upon no tangible evidence whatever, and, in their
enthusiasm, they even went so far as to declare their independence of
their suzerain, the Emir of Toledo. On the appearance of the latter
at the head of an army, however, the Calatravans repented of their
indiscretion, promptly expelled the aspiring mat-maker, and, with many
protestations of repentance, returned to their allegiance.
Intelligence of these events having been communicated to Abul-Kasim, he
caused search to be made for the unsuccessful impostor. In due time his
retreat was discovered, and he was conducted to Seville. There he was
submitted to the inspection of the concubines and slaves of Hischem;
their perplexity, their interest, or their fears prevailed over their
penetration; and the illiterate and obscure mechanic was declared
by those who were the best qualified to judge to be the undoubted
descendant of a line of celebrated kings. This important preliminary
having been accomplished, Abul-Kasim announced the alleged discovery
of Hischem by letter to all of the princes and dignitaries of Moorish
Spain. The result, while creditable to their patriotism and national
pride, did little honor to the keenness of their wits or the accuracy
of their perceptions. In Cordova alone the elation of the populace
overcame the authority but not the discretion or the judgment of the
magistrate; and Ibn-Djahwar, while he might condemn the propagation of
a contemptible political fraud, was forced to recognize its utility
in effecting a union of factions whose combined influence might
prevent the destruction of organized government in the Peninsula and
the consequent retardation of the social and intellectual progress of
Europe. With the wildest demonstrations of joy, the inhabitants of the
old Ommeyade capital evinced their loyalty to a dynasty whose princes
they had so often adored and so often defied; the powers of the Council
of State were popularly supposed to be merged into those of the empire;
and Ibn-Djahwar and his aristocratic colleagues announced themselves
the servants of the plebeian impostor, who held a mimic court in the
palace of his master, the shrewd and intriguing Kadi of Seville. The
example of Cordova was speedily followed by the states of Denia and the
Balearic Isles, Tortosa, and Valencia.
Yahya, from his stronghold at Carmona, saw with wonder and dismay the
establishment and progress of the formidable confederacy which had
already thwarted his projects and threatened the speedy overthrow of
his power. The intoxication to which he was habitually addicted caused
him to neglect the precautions dictated by ordinary prudence. While
overcome with wine he was lured into a nocturnal ambuscade and killed,
with the larger portion of his command; and Ismail, the son of the
Kadi, who had charge of the victorious detachment, returned to receive
the congratulations of the people of Seville.
The death of Yahya was a fatal blow to the hopes of the Berber
party. None of his family possessed, in an equal degree, talents for
organization or the confidence of their followers, advantages which
had so effectually promoted the fortunes of the deceased commander.
His death was no sooner known than the Berbers disbanded, and with
characteristic inconstancy returned to the tranquil pursuits of
pastoral life. Even the integrity of his own dominions could no longer
be maintained. His brother Edris was raised to the throne of Malaga,
but Mohammed, a cousin of the latter, had already received the homage
of the garrison of Algeziras; the Africans of the province began to
show signs of insubordination, and Edris saw himself confronted at the
outset of his reign with difficulties which already seemed to portend a
disastrous termination of the projected Berber empire. The impatience
of Abul-Kasim soon outstripped his discretion as well as his resources.
He endeavored to secure for his puppet the prestige which would attach
to his cause by the occupation of Cordova, but the authorities of that
city peremptorily refused him admittance, and their temporary support
of the false Hischem having, in their judgment, served its purpose,
they formally renounced their allegiance to the impostor.
The centre of political disturbance in the Peninsula now shifts to
the Mediterranean coast and to the eastern confines of Andalusia.
Almeria had, since the dissolution of the khalifate, enjoyed, to a
remarkable degree, immunity from the prevalent disorders. That city
was the largest and the most opulent commercial emporium of the
Spanish Mohammedans. So far from having been injured by the evils
afflicting every other principality, she seemed to have profited by
the misfortunes of her neighbors. Her governors had been neither
conquered nor deposed, and her Emir still held the commission bestowed
by a khalif. The insecurity of other ports had practically driven
the commerce of the country to the protection of the mighty castle
which commanded her harbor. She had experienced few of the political
vicissitudes which had distracted the provinces of the North and West.
While they had fallen under African or Jewish influence, she had
retained all the traditions, the pride, and the exclusiveness of a
community where the Arab element predominated. The nominal ruler was
Zohair, a prince of mediocre talents and effeminate character; but
the control of the government was substantially vested in the vizier,
Ibn-Abbas, who united great literary accomplishments and executive
ability with boundless avarice and a fertile genius for intrigue. He
was one of the most learned of men. The elegance of his epistolary
style was famous. He was a distinguished composer and improvisatore.
His person was strikingly handsome. His family traced their origin
to the Defenders of the Prophet. The vanity and presumption which
he constantly displayed were as offensive as his talents and
accomplishments were remarkable. His affluence and the state which he
maintained in an era of national decadence convey some idea of the
prodigal splendor exhibited by the Arab nobility in the prosperous days
of the empire. His palace equalled in extent and in the magnificence
of its appointments the most sumptuous abodes of royalty. The gardens
with which it was surrounded recalled, by their profusion of rare and
delicious flowers, the teeming wealth of tropical vegetation. Crowds of
slaves ministered to the caprices of a haughty but indulgent master.
Among the beauties of his harem were numbered five hundred singers,
selected as much for loveliness of feature and symmetry of form as for
their proficiency in the art of music. In one of the noblest apartments
of this princely mansion was the library. It contained eighty thousand
volumes, without including the separate and unbound manuscripts,--if
these were considered the figure exceeded a hundred thousand. No room
in the palace was furnished with more splendor and extravagance.
The shelves were of aromatic woods inlaid with various precious
materials, such as ivory, tortoise-shell, and mother-of-pearl. The
ornamentation was of gold. Enamels glittered upon the walls. The floor
was composed of great slabs of white marble. In this elegant retreat
the vizier, with whom the love of literature was a passion, passed no
inconsiderable portion of his time. The fortune which enabled him to
maintain such regal luxury was estimated at the enormous sum of five
hundred thousand ducats, equal to seven million dollars of our money.
The policy of Ibn-Abbas had always been characterized by unrelenting
hostility to the members of other factions. Berbers, Christians, and
Jews had been repeatedly visited with decided marks of his disfavor.
His representations had induced Zohair, alone of all the Arab princes,
to hold aloof from the alliance formed against the Africans. Hebrews
were the especial objects of his antipathy. The influence of this race,
paramount in the adjacent principality of Granada, and which had at
different times interfered with the accomplishment of his ambitious
projects, now led indirectly to important events, seriously affecting
the stability of existing institutions as well as the ultimate
political destinies of the Peninsula.
Wonderfully favored by nature, as well as by the industry of a numerous
population, the province of Granada early began to give evidence of
that greatness which culminated in its erection into an independent
and powerful kingdom. The Jews, attracted by the productiveness of
its soil, the salubrity of its climate, and the mercantile advantages
of its situation, had settled there in such numbers that the capital
was, even before the accession of the first Abd-al-Rahman, known as
a Jewish city. The financial ability and enterprise of their race
had enabled them to surpass all commercial rivals, and the trade of
the province eventually passed into their hands. Their wealth was
beyond computation; their Semitic affiliations protected them from
political outrage and religious persecution; while the experience and
the abilities of their leaders were often employed by the illiterate
princes who, either as vassals or petty sovereigns, occupied the throne
of Granada. During the period under consideration that state was ruled
by Habus, a monarch of African origin, and the influence of the Berber
party was predominant and unquestioned throughout his dominions,
although they contained many sympathizers with the fallen dynasty and
thousands of Christian tributaries.
At the head of the Hebrews of Granada was the famous Rabbi Samuel,
of the family of Levi, who enjoyed the unusual distinction of being
the chief councillor of a Mussulman sovereign. Born in an humble
station at Cordova, he early developed a taste for literature, and
had profited to the utmost by the admirable educational facilities
afforded by the schools of the capital. His diligence had been
rewarded by the acquisition of vast stores of knowledge. He was an
accomplished linguist, a talented poet. His conversation and his
writings demonstrated his thorough acquaintance with all the learning
of the time. His official correspondence, for felicity of expression
and purity of diction, was the envy of the scholars of every
Andalusian court. In the perfection of his chirography, he excelled
the performance of experts in that art, an extraordinary attainment in
an age when the greatest importance was attached to regularity in the
characters and beauty in the ornamentation of books and inscriptions.
The controversial works of Samuel enjoyed a high reputation among
the theologians and philosophers of his sect, while his patronage of
the learned and the liberality with which he rewarded the struggling
efforts of aspiring genius endeared his name to every member of the
commonwealth of letters. His familiarity with the most abstruse
branches of science, his proficiency in rhetoric, mathematics, and
astronomy were considered almost supernatural by his contemporaries.
He educated at his own expense deserving but indigent youths of his
nation; a number of secretaries were kept constantly employed under
his direction in transcribing copies of the Talmud, to be presented to
the poor; and afflicted and destitute Jews of such distant countries
as Egypt, Palestine, and Persia had frequent reason to applaud the
generous and charitable conduct of the Chief Rabbi of Granada.
The advancement of Samuel to a position demanding the exercise of the
highest diplomatic talents, as well as the possession of extensive
knowledge and a profound acquaintance with human nature, was due in a
great measure to his own genius and to the reputation his abilities
had already acquired. He owed nothing to the fortuitous advantages of
rank or fortune. His family was poor. His ancestors could boast of no
connection with either the kings of Judea or the priests of the ancient
hierarchy. For years he had maintained himself by the sale of spices
in a little shop in the bazaar of Malaga. An accident brought him to
the notice of Al-Arif, Vizier of the King of Granada, and he became
the secretary of that official, who, upon his death-bed, recommended
him to his sovereign as a servant eminently worthy of confidence. The
event justified the wise advice of the vizier. The rabbi of a detested
race inspired the respect and received the willing homage of the
proudest Arab nobles, who could not but admire the unaffected dignity
with which he bore the honors of his exalted station. He was the
only prime-minister of his sect mentioned in history who ever openly
directed the policy of a Moslem government. Such was his unerring
sagacity that one of his countrymen said that his counsels were such
as might have been directly inspired by the omniscience of God. He
conducted the administration of public affairs with the most consummate
wisdom, and the subsequent power and grandeur of the kingdom of
Granada were largely attributable to the genius of this eminent Hebrew
statesman.
A spirit of rivalry, aggravated by prejudice of race and jealousy of
power, had arisen between the viziers of Almeria and Granada. While
Samuel sustained his claims to superiority by a dignified indifference,
Ibn-Abbas endeavored to undermine and subvert the influence of the
rabbi by the most dishonorable artifices that hatred could invent.
But, to the mortification of the vindictive minister, his efforts
proved futile. In vain he caused to be spread fictitious rumors of
the avarice, the oppression, the ambitious hopes, and the meditated
treachery of his rival. The confidence of both monarch and people was
too well founded in the honor and integrity of Samuel to be shaken by
the malicious falsehoods of an avowed enemy. In the mean time, Habus
having died, an attempt was made by Ibn-Abbas to excite a revolution
by espousing the pretensions of a younger son of the deceased king.
But Badis, the heir-apparent, through the influence of Samuel, ascended
the throne in defiance of foreign interference and internal discord.
The first act of Badis, influenced probably by the suggestions of
his politic adviser,--for Samuel continued to enjoy the favor and
confidence of the son in the same degree that he had formerly done
under the father,--was an attempt at reconciliation with Zohair,
prince of Almeria. The latter affected to receive these proposals with
pleasure, and then, suddenly, without the consent required by the
law of nations, having traversed at the head of an armed escort the
territory of his neighbor, appeared before the walls of his capital.
The flagrant discourtesy of this act was overlooked by the angry and
astonished host in his desire for harmony. Zohair and his companions
were entertained with becoming hospitality; and the Arab Emir was
dazzled by the splendors of a palace which stood on the site afterwards
to be occupied by the peerless Alhambra. But the prince of Almeria,
forgetting the amenities demanded by his position, bore himself with
insufferable arrogance; the members of his train assumed an air of
insolent superiority which aroused the indignation of the court and
the people; while the vizier, whose pride seemed to have mastered his
sense of official propriety, conducted himself without regard to the
consequences certain to result from the resentment of an infuriated
enemy. After a few days of ineffectual negotiation, the conference
was abruptly concluded; and Zohair and his retinue departed, only to
fall into an ambuscade which the outraged Granadans had prepared for
them in the depths of the sierra. The most heroic valor availed but
little in the presence of overwhelming odds; the possibility of escape
was effectually removed by the precipices and gorges of a mountain
solitude; and the prince with most of his followers perished upon
the weapons of the Berber soldiery or were hurled into ravines whose
depths were shrouded in perpetual darkness. Of those who survived, the
soldiers were beheaded; and the court dignitaries, who were classed
as non-combatants, were released, with a single exception. Ibn-Abbas,
after enduring the taunts of an ungenerous and triumphant foe, was
loaded with heavy fetters and thrown into a dungeon. His pathetic
appeals for mercy were unheeded by the ferocious Badis. He vainly
tried to tempt the cupidity of his jailers with the offer of a bribe
of sixty thousand ducats. In accordance with the ruthless customs of
mediæval barbarity, the captive minister was dragged in chains before
the throne and pierced with the sword-thrusts of the monarch and his
courtiers until life was extinct. Thus perished the accomplished
Ibn-Abbas through the consequences of his own temerity, and with him
was removed one of the greatest obstacles of both national unity and
Berber ambition.
Before the inhabitants of Almeria had recovered from the consternation
caused by the death of their sovereign, his domains were appropriated
by the Emir of Valencia. This step, perhaps advised by the astute
Kadi of Seville, at all events greatly strengthened the power of
that dignitary by extending the domain of a vassal of the pretended
Hischem and removing all prospect of the accession of another dangerous
enemy. This fortunate circumstance having relieved his apprehensions
of disturbance from the successors of Zohair, the wily Abul-Kasim
began to carry his insidious operations into the court of Granada. The
employment of spies, some of whom occupied high official positions,
made this enterprising statesman intimately acquainted with the
secret transactions of every Divan in the Peninsula. His emissaries
at Granada, while informing him of the discontent prevailing in
that city on account of the tyranny and habitual intoxication of the
King, which kept the people in constant alarm, also communicated the
opinion that it would not be difficult, by means of an insurrection,
to bring the entire principality under the jurisdiction of Seville.
To insure success for this notable enterprise a competent leader was
required, a task of little difficulty in a country long accustomed to
revolution and swarming with able and unscrupulous men. There lived
at this time at Granada a prominent personage named Abu-al-Fotuh, who
combined the rather inconsistent professions of a soldier of fortune
and a peripatetic philosopher. A native of Djordjan, on the shores of
the Caspian,--the Hyrcania of the ancients,--the affluent circumstances
of his family had provided for him an excellent education, and he
was well versed in all the learning of the East. Not only was he
remarkably proficient in grammar and astronomy, but the occult
sciences were the objects of his especial predilection. A recognized
authority on geomancy and astrology, he was regarded with awe by the
vulgar, who thought that they detected in his habits and occupations
evidence of communication with the mysterious powers of the unseen
world. This popular impression his interests engaged him to confirm
by every artifice of perverted ingenuity. His house was secluded from
observation, and contained a well-equipped laboratory, whose caldrons
and alembics were firmly believed by his neighbors to be implements
devoted to the unlawful practice of magic. In his dress and his manners
he affected an air of profound mystery and reserve. His garments were
embroidered with cabalistic symbols. His staff was entwined with
serpents. In public he maintained a taciturnity unusual with his
voluble race, a trait too often accepted by the thoughtless multitude
as an indication of superior wisdom. The scientific acquirements
and literary tastes of this remarkable individual did not deter him
from adopting for his pecuniary benefit the most disreputable arts
of the charlatan. His mansion was daily visited by crowds eager to
learn the prognostications of the future derived from the casting of
horoscopes and the study of the stars. Officials of distinguished rank
were included among his patrons; royalty itself did not disdain to
interrogate the oracles of destiny; and the relations of this learned
impostor with the King of Granada, embellished by the genius of an
accomplished writer, form the subject of one of the most fascinating
tales in the English language. Although his present occupations were
those of peace, the years of Abu-al-Fotuh had not been passed entirely
amidst the uneventful routine of a sedentary life. He was a daring
horseman, well skilled in all the martial exercises of the age; a
soldier bearing upon his person the scars of honorable wounds received
in battle; a general whose coolness and intrepidity had been tested
by the perils of many a campaign. Such was the leader selected by
the aspiring Abul-Kasim to overturn the throne of the dissolute and
unpopular King of Granada.
The attractions of political intrigue obtained the mastery over
philosophical maxims and worldly experience in the mind of
Abu-al-Fotuh, and he embraced with ardor the proposals of the Kadi of
Seville. He secretly represented to Yahya, a cousin of Badis, that
the present conjunction of the planets was unusually favorable to his
fortunes, inasmuch as the calculations of astrology indicated the
speedy death of the sovereign and the promotion of his relative to the
honors and prerogatives of the crown. The vanity and the hopes of a
thoughtless prince were excited by this announcement so authoritatively
conveyed, and he willingly accepted a responsibility which seemed to
have received the sanction of heaven. The discontent of the people was
sedulously fomented; the support of a number of disaffected nobles
was secured; and the ramifications of a formidable plot soon began to
extend to every corner of the city and the province. Unfortunately
for the success of their scheme, the conspirators had failed to take
into consideration the sagacity and vigilance of the Jewish vizier.
The suspicious movements of well-known malcontents could not long
escape the observation of his spies. The plot was betrayed; and the
ringleaders, escaping with some difficulty the vengeance of Badis, fled
to Seville. Enraged by the interference of a stranger in the affairs
of his kingdom, an appeal of the Lord of Carmona to Badis and to Edris
of Malaga was made an opportune pretext for the chastisement of the
presumptuous ruler of Seville. The hostile armies met near Ecija. The
Sevillians, commanded by Ismail, the son of the Kadi, were defeated;
and the sorrow of the catastrophe was aggravated by the death of the
youthful general, who, in a short but brilliant career of arms, had
displayed talents and resources worthy of an experienced veteran.
Solicitude for the safety of his wife and children, unprotected in
the power of his indignant sovereign, induced Abu-al-Fotuh soon after
the battle to throw himself upon the generosity of a tyrant whose
deafness to every appeal for mercy was notorious and proverbial.
With a diabolical refinement of cruelty, Badis, through an effectual
display of compassion, raised in the mind of the unfortunate captive
fallacious hopes of a speedy deliverance. Conducted to Granada rather
with the ceremony due to a guest than with the restraint imposed upon
a prisoner, as soon as the gate of the city was reached the courtesy
of the guard was abruptly changed into insult and violence, and
Abu-al-Fotuh received the ignominious treatment of a common malefactor.
His head was shaved; he was lashed upon the back of a camel; and the
driver of the animal, followed by a guard of slaves, scourged the
victim relentlessly, while the procession exhibiting this suggestive
example of royal justice traversed with deliberate steps, and amidst
the jeers of the populace, the principal thoroughfares of the city.
After submitting to this punishment, Abu-al-Fotuh was cast into prison,
and a few days afterwards underwent the same fate the vizier of Almeria
had endured, and was buried by the side of that rash but accomplished
statesman.
I have described somewhat at length the personal characteristics of
the men who, in the troublous times which followed the dismemberment
of the khalifate, either attained to power or perished in unsuccessful
attempts to subvert the existing authority of the state, in order to
call the attention of the reader to the high standard of intelligence
and education demanded of a leader of the people. The day had long
since gone by when an illiterate faqui, no matter how eminently
gifted by nature with oratorical powers, could direct the blind and
headstrong passions of the multitude. The possession of great talents
and great learning was indispensable for the acquisition of political
influence and the management of important national enterprises. The
education of the masses, even in a country for nearly half a century
distracted by sedition, was too far advanced to permit the successful
exercise of the arts of the ignorant demagogue. Without the accidental
distinction of birth, no individual, no matter how commanding his
abilities or how thorough his qualifications for office, could ever
hope to secure the co-operation of the proud Arab nobility. Nowhere,
since the decadence of Attic splendor, had so many men of varied
talents and literary accomplishments risen to political distinction
as in the closing years of the Hispano-Arab empire in Spain. No
circumstances could well be imagined more unfavorable to intellectual
advancement. The entire country was unsettled. Property was insecure.
Revolutions were frequent. The services of nearly every able-bodied
man were liable to be required at any moment for the protection of
the existing government. The tranquillity so essential to the full
exercise of the mental faculties in literary pursuits was, under such
conditions, absolutely unattainable. Yet, although beset by such
formidable difficulties, the genius of Arab culture continued to
sustain the high reputation which it had gained under the khalifate.
The popular system of education still preserved, amidst manifold
interruptions, the standard of excellence by which it had formerly been
distinguished. Each principality became a centre of learning, and, in
friendly emulation, endeavored to surpass the scientific achievements
of its neighbors. The Arabian society of the Peninsula, having thus
inherited and preserved the progressive spirit, the noble traditions,
and the literary tastes of the khalifate, was enabled to long retain
the undisputed intellectual supremacy of Europe.
Abul-Kasim-Mohammed, the Kadi of Seville, died in that city in 1042,
after a reign of more than twenty years. Although never formally vested
with the supreme authority, he had, since the dethronement of Yahya,
practically exercised the functions of an absolute sovereign. His
son, Abbad, whose designation of Motadhid is that by which he is best
known to history, ascended the throne as the minister of the mat-maker
Khalaf, who, still fraudulently representing the imperial dignity of
the Ommeyades, continued to pass his days in indolence and luxury,
while the family of the Beni-Abbad, through the serviceable agency of
his imposture, was making rapid progress towards the acquisition of
despotic power. Motadhid was a prince of excellent parts which had
been improved by assiduous study; but his temperament was fierce and
sensual; his ungovernable rage made him the terror of the city; and,
in the indulgence of his vices and the prosecution of his ambition, he
recognized neither the ties of kindred, the obligations of hospitality,
the faith of treaties, nor the law of nations. He wrote verses far
superior in quality to those usually produced by royal authors. Even
the bacchanalian poems of his hours of dissipation were distinguished
for the ingenuity of their conceits, the elegance of their diction,
and the delicacy of their sentiments. His patronage of learning has
served to compensate, in a measure, for the crimes which have blackened
his character in the eyes of posterity. The taste displayed in some of
his compositions is not surpassed by that of any of the most elaborate
productions of Arabian genius which have descended to our times. One
of the most striking peculiarities of Motadhid was his taciturnity. He
had no confidants. He never betrayed, by word or gesture, the thoughts
that were passing through his mind. His designs were formed and carried
into execution with a skill and a success which argued not only unusual
powers of invention and combination, but a profound acquaintance with
the weaknesses and the inconsistencies of human nature. In his personal
habits, he was one of the most licentious and brutal princes of his
century. A skeptic in religion, it was said that he believed in nothing
but astrology and wine. His orgies were the reproach of the court and
the horror of the capital. His fits of intoxication lasted for days,
and in his capacity to consume large quantities of wine he far exceeded
the most seasoned and strong-headed of his boon companions. “To drink
at dawn is a religious dogma, and whoever does not believe in it is a
Pagan,” was one of his favorite maxims. An ardent admirer of beauty,
he caused the slave-markets of Europe and Asia to be searched for the
most attractive specimens of female loveliness, and his harem contained
eight hundred concubines, selected for their extraordinary charms. The
implacable animosity of Motadhid was rarely assuaged by the completion
of vengeance; it demanded the preservation of mementos by which he
might recall with ferocious pleasure the fate of a hated and formidable
enemy. The skulls of such as had perished in rebellion or by the sword
of the executioner, as well as of those of hostile officers who had
fallen in battle, were all preserved. The garden of his palace was
lined with rows of these melancholy and suggestive trophies, in which
he caused to be planted flowers of brilliant colors and delightful
fragrance. Each skull was polished to a snowy whiteness, and bore upon
a label the name and the offence of its former owner. In a casket
among his treasures were preserved similar memorials of the princes
who had succumbed to the superior fortune of his arms. These were
adorned with a splendor which attested the value attached to them by
their possessor as evidences of victory. They were set in gold; in the
sockets, once brightened with the flashing of the human eye, the cold
glitter of the diamond arrested the glance of the horrified observer;
and around the temples was inserted a row of precious stones of various
colors,--sapphires, rubies, hyacinths, and emeralds. These souvenirs
of blood and cruelty always imparted fresh inspiration to the mind
of Motadhid, and the most joyous as well as the most pathetic of his
verses were composed while in their contemplation.
The agents and spies of Motadhid were to be found in every country
and in every court. Nowhere was even the fugitive who had incurred
the enmity of the tyrant safe from his vengeance. In Seville lived a
blind citizen of great wealth. His possessions provoked the avarice
of the prince, and he unceremoniously appropriated the greater portion
of them. The victim having lost the remainder, and being reduced to
penury, travelled, dependent upon charity, as a pilgrim to Mecca. To
all who would listen, he told the story of his wrongs, and declaimed
against the injustice of the ruler of Seville both in the Mosque and in
the public places of the Holy City.
In the course of time his denunciations were reported to Motadhid. The
latter caused to be prepared a bronze casket, in which were placed a
number of pieces of gold that had been covered with a deadly volatile
poison. As the pilgrims were leaving to join the annual caravan to
Mecca, Motadhid caused one of them, in whom he could confide, to be
brought before him, and gave him the casket.
“When thou hast entered the Holy City,” said he, “seek out the person
whose name is inscribed hereon, and present this to him with my
compliments. But be sure not to open the casket or evil will befall
thee.”
On his arrival the messenger had little difficulty in finding the blind
beggar, who was accustomed each day, before the Great Mosque, to revile
the name and recount the crimes of his oppressor.
“Friend,” said the Andalusian, “behold a gift which our Lord the Prince
of Seville hath charged me to deliver to you. Receive it with joy, for
methinks it is of great value.”
The blind man took the casket and shook it. “By the beard of the
Prophet, it contains gold!” he cried. “But why hath Motadhid sent me
this, after having reduced me to poverty and driven me into exile?”
“I know not,” responded the other. “It may be a royal caprice; it may
be the fruit of remorse. In any event, rejoice in thy good fortune.”
“Thanks for thy kindness, and do not fail to convey to the Prince the
assurance of my appreciation of his generosity,” said the beggar, as
he departed to grope his way through the street leading to the wretched
lodging which public charity had bestowed upon him.
Opening the fatal casket, he poured the gold into his lap. He counted
it, fondled it, embraced it, with all the rapture of one who long
accustomed to abject poverty is suddenly raised to affluence.
But a few moments elapsed before the fumes of the poison produced
their effect; a convulsive shudder racked his frame, and the victim of
Motadhid’s hatred fell forward upon his treasure--a corpse.
The military operations of Motadhid were characterized by great energy
and unusual success. At the very outset of his reign, he was attacked
by a coalition of Berber princes. Marching towards the west, he
desolated the territories of Modhaffer, Emir of Badajoz, the soul of
the hostile league. In a battle which followed, Modhaffer sustained a
decisive defeat, and a considerable number of the inhabitants of his
capital were killed and captured. The son of Mohammed, Emir of Carmona,
perished in this engagement, and his skull, duly bleached and labelled
and embellished with gold and jewels, was deposited by the side of its
grinning predecessors in the unique casket of the Prince of Seville.
Peace was finally adjusted between these two petty sovereigns through
the intervention of Ibn-Djahwar, ruler of Cordova, who, in these
sanguinary struggles, although his sympathies were with the opponents
of the Berbers, maintained a politic neutrality. His most formidable
enemy disposed of, Motadhid attacked and conquered in detail the little
states of Huelva, Silves, and Santa-Maria. The extreme South of the
Peninsula was at that time in the hands of the Berbers. To such a
commanding position had the principality of Seville now attained, that
the African lords of Andalusia acknowledged the title and the supremacy
of the false Hischem, and paid tribute to the government he pretended
to control. The cupidity and ambition of Motadhid were aroused by the
sight of this fertile domain lying at his very door. He determined
to secure the prize by artifice, this method being more congenial
to his politic genius than the expensive and uncertain result of an
appeal to arms. The states of Ronda and Moron, the most important and
accessible, he selected as the object of his first attempt. Relying
upon the doubtful faith of his tributaries, and accompanied by only
four attendants, he boldly placed himself in the power of the Berber
chieftains. He was received with the greatest courtesy and kindness,
and while he was being feasted at the palace, his followers, who had
been selected for their acuteness and proficiency in all the arts of
deception, mingled in disguise with the people and ascertained their
sentiments towards the ruling powers. The information obtained was most
favorable to the plans of Motadhid. Under a delusive appearance of
contentment a wide-spread hatred of the African domination was found
to exist; and, by a judicious distribution of the gold with which they
were provided, his attendants experienced no difficulty in purchasing
the support of a number of influential officials, through whose
assistance, at the designated time, the strongholds of the two Berber
sovereigns were to be betrayed. Amidst the repeated and prolonged
festivities to which his visit had given rise, the ability of Motadhid
to resist the intoxicating fumes of wine stood him in good stead among
revellers whose convivial propensities and experience were fully equal
to his own. In the midst of a prolonged debauch immediately preceding
his intended departure, the crafty prince pretended to be overcome with
sleep. As soon as his heavy breathing indicated loss of consciousness,
his perfidious hosts began to discuss, deliberately and in whispers,
the propriety of his assassination. The infamy of this proposal,
sufficiently flagitious of itself, was increased by the fact that among
the Berbers, as well as the Arabs, hospitality was regarded as the most
noble of virtues, and the person of a guest who had eaten at the board
of his entertainer was, for the time being, inviolably sacred. The few
moral sensibilities originally possessed by the Berbers had, however,
amidst the commotion of incessant conflict and through familiarity
with the insidious artifices constantly employed by the mixed and
demoralized population of the Peninsula, been effectually destroyed.
According to the unscrupulous maxims of their policy universally
entertained and constantly practised, considerations of present
expediency far outweighed the obligations of social courtesy or the
dictates of personal honor. The opportunity of delivering themselves
at a single blow and without personal risk from the most powerful and
implacable enemy of their race was too fortunate and unexpected to be
sacrificed to a mere question of casuistry or sentiment by men long
habituated to deeds of treachery and violence. Of all the assemblage
only one, Moadh-Ibn-Abi-Corra, a youth of the most distinguished
rank, had the principle and the courage to remonstrate. The indignant
reproaches of their young companion, not yet sufficiently practised in
duplicity and crime to overcome the impulses of a noble and generous
nature, prevailed over the base resolve of the other princes, and
realizing, in spite of their blunted faculties, the flagrant enormity
of the project, they quietly abandoned it. While the discussion
involving the fate of Motadhid was being conducted, the self-control
of the latter was subjected to a far more severe strain than it had
ever before been called upon to endure. His drowsiness had been assumed
as a convenient ruse. By its means he had hoped to become acquainted
with the prejudices and the designs of his turbulent vassals heedlessly
betrayed in moments of conviviality. But he was entirely unprepared
for the revelations which fell upon his astonished ears. Aware that
the slightest indication of consciousness would only precipitate the
blow, he maintained, with a simulated calmness incredible under the
circumstances, the appearance of a profound slumber. Finally he arose
and resumed his place at the banquet. Not a tremor of voice, not an
agitation of muscle, disclosed the ordeal he had just undergone. His
marvellous self-command easily imposed upon his unsuspecting hosts,
who, partly from policy, partly from remorse, now overwhelmed with
assiduous attentions the guest whom their deliberate malice had but a
moment before been ready to consign to a violent death.
The prince took his departure amidst mutual expressions of esteem
which, inspired by the profound dissimulation of both parties, seemed
to promise the most amicable intercourse for the future between
suzerain and vassal. The satisfaction of the Berbers was soon increased
by the arrival of messengers from Motadhid charged with the delivery of
costly and beautiful gifts as tokens of the appreciative friendship of
their sovereign. Several months elapsed; assurances of amity continued
to be reciprocally transmitted between the palaces of Seville and
Ronda, until, by every plausible artifice, the unsuspicious Berbers
were lulled into delusive security. Then the governors of Ronda,
Moron, and Xeres were invited, with much ceremony, to partake of the
hospitality of Motadhid. Their attendants increased the party to the
number of sixty persons, splendidly mounted and equipped; and the
gay cavalcade was welcomed at the gates of Seville with the cordial
greetings of the prince and the acclamations of the people. Among
Moslems the first courtesy extended to a guest is the offer of a
bath. It therefore excited no suspicion among the Berber nobles when
they were conducted--with the single exception of Moadh, who, in the
momentary confusion, was, for the time, designedly separated from
his companions--into a series of magnificent vaulted chambers, whose
walls were encased with precious marbles, whose windows were formed of
painted glass, and whose floors and ceilings sparkled with exquisite
mosaics. In order to enjoy freedom from all restraint, their own slaves
attended them. The intolerable and increasing heat caused the latter
before long to attempt to open the door. They found it fastened; by
dint of superhuman effort it was finally broken down, but behind it,
as if by magic, had arisen a massive wall of masonry; egress was seen
to be impossible; and the meditated treachery of the Africans was
fearfully avenged. The next day sixty steaming corpses were taken out
of the bath, whose apartments had been heated to a temperature far
exceeding that ordinarily maintained in an oven. The power of the
Berber faction was hopelessly impaired; a new terror invested the
name of the sanguinary Motadhid; and an unusual number of grisly but
precious and long-coveted trophies was deposited in the charnel-like
caskets preserved among the treasures of the palace.
The anxiety and suspicions of Moadh had been aroused by his evidently
preconcerted separation from his friends. When their fate was announced
to him, it required all the address and condescension Motadhid
could command to soothe his grief and remove his apprehensions.
His inestimable service to the prince during the banquet at Ronda
was recalled, and he was informed that the reward of his noble
championship of the laws of hospitality which had saved the life of
his guest was at hand. A splendid mansion was set apart for him in
the most aristocratic quarter of the city. As an earnest of his future
generosity, Motadhid presented him at once with ten horses and an equal
number of eunuchs, thirty beautiful girls, and a purse of a thousand
dinars. Scarcely a day passed without revealing some new token of the
attachment of his benefactor. His precocious abilities, no less than
the favor of the monarch, procured for him the respectful admiration of
the court. His opinion was heard with attention in the Divan. He was
appointed to a high command in the army. The expenses of his household,
which vied in magnificence with those of the most opulent nobles, were
defrayed by an annual salary of twelve thousand pieces of gold. The
partiality of Motadhid was further evinced by the frequent bestowal of
costly presents, whose rarity and workmanship doubly enhanced their
value. In the brilliant society of the Sevillian court no one was
superior in rank, public estimation, or popular influence to the young
and talented Berber chieftain.
The demoralization which followed the death of their leaders, aided
by the corruption previously employed by Motadhid, gave him almost
immediate possession of the Berber strongholds. Arcos, Xeres, and Moron
surrendered without delay. The resistance of Ronda threatened to be
serious on account of its natural strength and the predominance of the
African population, but as soon as the troops of Motadhid appeared
the citizens of the other races--Arab, Jew, and Christian--rose in
rebellion; the Berbers were cut to pieces; the gates were thrown open;
and the strongest fortress of Andalusia was added to the principality
of Seville.
The news of the terrible fate of the Berber princes was heard with
undisguised consternation by the King of Granada. His own unpopularity
and the disaffection of his subjects were well known to him. The
great number of Arabs and infidels in his dominions was an incessant
menace to the stability of his throne, now rendered less secure than
ever through the example of Ronda; and even the resource of habitual
intoxication could not make him forget the catastrophe which, at that
very moment, might be impending. Tortured by frightful suspicions, he
determined to remove at one blow all the Arabs in the capital. For the
accomplishment of this atrocious deed, he selected Friday, when the
Moslems would be assembled at service in the mosque, the commission
of such a sacrilege being a matter of indifference then compared with
the greater crime. In vain the Vizier Samuel, to whom the design had
been communicated, attempted to represent its folly. The King was
inexorable. Then the Jew took measures to warn the chief personages of
the Arab party. In consequence of this, on the appointed day, the great
Moslem temple, usually crowded with worshippers, was almost deserted.
It was evident that the bloody project had been betrayed, and the
King, having become convinced of the dreadful evils it must inevitably
produce, was finally prevailed upon to relinquish it.
Not long afterwards the wise counsellor, whose commanding abilities had
almost caused the prejudice against his nation to be forgotten, died.
His son, Joseph, a man of finished education and more than ordinary
talents, inherited the honors but not the influence of his father.
His haughty behavior, the magnificence of his dress, the number and
pomp of his retinue, which equalled that of Badis himself, provoked
the envy of all classes. Moslems and Jews alike were appalled by his
blasphemous speeches. He was more than suspected of apostasy from the
religion of Moses, and was so imprudent as to publicly hold up to
derision the doctrines of the Koran. It was determined by the enemies
of the young minister, whose power over the King was unbounded, to
make his unpopularity the excuse for the plunder of the members of
his sect, whose wealth had long excited the cupidity of the populace
of Granada. In furtherance of this plan, the vilest calumnies were
invented concerning him. Impossible crimes were attributed to the
promptings of his malignity and injustice. He was accused of a secret
understanding with the Prince of Almeria, an enemy of Badis; and the
public mind having been inflamed by the publication of satirical poems
which depicted in exaggerated terms the dishonesty and rapacity of
the Jews, the detested vizier was finally seized in the royal palace
by an infuriated mob and crucified. Four thousand unhappy Hebrews
were involved in the ruin of their countryman, and paid the forfeit
attaching to successful thrift and a proscribed nationality. Their
palaces were occupied and their property appropriated by the assassins;
and Jewish supremacy in a Mohammedan state, a condition heretofore
without precedent in the history of Islam, was forever abolished in the
Kingdom of Granada.
The designs of Motadhid had been accomplished by the acquisition of
the greater part of Andalusia, and, as no further advantage could
possibly accrue to his power by longer maintaining a fraud, he publicly
announced the death of the pretended Hischem II. Whether this event,
which under the circumstances was politically of little importance,
was hastened by his own instrumentality is unknown. At all events the
obsequies of the impostor were conducted with regal magnificence, and
by a will he was alleged to have written was bequeathed to the hajib
the once splendid legacy of the Ommeyade empire.
Fortune, which had hitherto so singularly favored the ambition of
Motadhid, seemed now to avert her face from him. His eldest son,
Ismail, twice rebelled against his authority, and, having attempted
to storm the palace, was taken and died by the hand of his enraged and
merciless father. Motamid, his second son, lost the city and state
of Malaga, which he had captured, through his own negligence and the
want of discipline prevailing among his troops, who were surprised and
routed by the King of Granada.
The dominion of Abd-al-Aziz, Emir of Valencia, over Almeria was
terminated in 1041 by the rebellion of his vassal, Abu-al-Ahwac-Man, of
the tribe of Somadih. Under his son Motasim, the latter principality
became famous throughout the Moslem world for the literary
accomplishments of its sovereign and the intellectual culture and
exquisite courtesy of its people. Motasim was an enthusiastic patron
of the arts. His court was the resort of the learned of every land.
There the science of the khalifate, expelled by barbarians, found
a hospitable welcome. There the scholars of Granada, refugees from
Berber tyranny, pursued their studies in peace. There the faquis of
different sects discussed in amicable rivalry their doctrines in the
presence of the throne. The monarch was the model of every princely
virtue. He strove to revive the simple, patriarchal customs of the
Desert. He dispensed justice with an impartial yet with a merciful
hand. Like others of his race, he made poets the especial recipients
of his bounty. Many of them obtained more than a provincial celebrity.
Scarcely less honored and popular were the professors of science.
Physicians, chemists, and natural philosophers occupy a high rank
in the annals of his reign. Abu-Obeyd-Bekri, the most distinguished
geographer of Moorish Spain, was a resident of Almeria.
The Christian states of the North, for fifty years torn by internal
dissensions, were now united under the sceptre of Ferdinand. The
kingdoms of Leon and Castile had been consolidated, and, the
differences of the more insignificant principalities being adjusted,
the attention of the Christians was again directed to the disunited
and helpless members of the khalifate. From this time forth the war
against the Moslem was destined to assume the character of a crusade,
and hostilities to be seldom suspended until the last bulwark of Islam
in the West had fallen and the Cross had been raised upon the towers of
the Alhambra.
The progress made by Ferdinand soon disclosed the weakness of his
adversaries. Badajoz, Lamego, and Visera fell before his arms. The Emir
of Saragossa was forced to abandon all the towns beyond the Douro. The
banners of the Castilian army were seen from the walls of Alcala de
Henares, in the dominions of Mamun, Emir of Toledo. To preserve his
cities from destruction, the latter consented to pay an incredible
ransom of money and jewels, which impoverished his treasury, and, with
the lords of Saragossa and Badajoz, at once acknowledged the suzerainty
of the Christian king. The vanguard of the latter soon appeared in the
territory of Seville, and the proud Motadhid, aware of the futility
of resistance, sued for peace. It was granted in consideration of
an enormous tribute and the delivery of the body of St. Justa, a
martyr whose sacrifice was alleged to date as far back as the Roman
domination. The bishops of Leon and Astorga were sent at the head of
an imposing embassy to receive the relics of the saint. Unfortunately,
these could not be identified, and the pious brethren, unwilling to
return empty handed, by means of a miraculous vision discovered and
obtained a far more valuable prize,--the body of St. Isidore, of
Seville. Motadhid affected great sorrow at being compelled to part with
such a treasure. With a view to future profit in the trade of similar
commodities, he reverentially threw over the bier a magnificent robe of
embroidered silk, and, much to the delight of the prelates, who saw
with undisguised astonishment the salutary effect produced on the mind
of an infidel by the mouldering bones of a Father of the Church, parted
from the escort at the gate of the city with many simulated expressions
of sorrow and a flood of hypocritical tears. Covering his face with his
mantle, his voice choked with sobs, this interesting example of royal
piety exclaimed, to the profound edification of the weeping bystanders:
“Farewell, Isidore! Farewell, most holy man! Thou knowest what a close
intimacy had always existed between us!”
With each year, with every season even, the Christian banners continued
to move steadily southward. The resources of the divided Moslem empire
could no longer oppose a concerted resistance to their advance. The
most powerful Moorish princes of the Peninsula were already the
tributaries of Ferdinand. Coimbra had been taken, and nearly all of
what is included within the limits of modern Portugal was in his
hands. Vast districts of the subjugated territory were systematically
depopulated by enforced emigration. The inhabitants of the captured
cities were in many instances also driven into exile, and where a
prolonged resistance had exasperated the conquerors, the lands, the
effects, and the seraglios of the wealthiest citizens were seized,
often in infringement of the terms of capitulation. Establishing
themselves in their new possessions, the rude cavaliers of Castile and
the Asturias carried the boisterous manners and brutal tastes of the
swineherd and the mountaineer into the splendid abodes of Moorish art
and luxury.
The states of Valencia and Malaga, owing to the political imbecility
of their rulers, had descended to a position greatly inferior to
that to which they were entitled by reason of their commercial and
agricultural resources. In the division of the khalifate, Valencia had
been retained by Abd-al-Aziz, the grandson of Al-Mansur, who, during
the subsequent disturbances, was the acknowledged head of the Amiride
faction. Gifted with rare talents for administration and command,
his indolence and love of pleasure counteracted these great natural
advantages, and his son, Abd-al-Melik, who succeeded him, possessed
all his indisposition to exertion, without his abilities. The city of
Valencia, invested by Ferdinand, proved too strong for his efforts, but
by a feigned retreat he lured the garrison and the citizens outside the
walls and into an ambuscade. The delightful climate of that province,
the garden of Andalusia, has never been propitious to the creation of a
race of warriors, and the effeminate Valencians, who had donned their
holiday attire in expectation of a triumph, expired almost without
resistance under the weapons of the Christian knights. Resuming the
siege, Ferdinand was attacked by illness, and soon after returned to
Leon to die. His adversary Motadhid, whose crafty and unscrupulous
policy had founded upon the ruins of the khalifate a kingdom more
imposing in its dimensions than remarkable for its military strength,
soon followed him to the grave.
Malaga, governed by the Edrisites, was long a centre of Berber
influence. Its lords, also enervated by the temptations of a tropical
climate, to the disgust of their martial followers, suffered their
lives to pass in inglorious ease until their domain was finally
absorbed by the growing power of Granada.
Attracted by the fame of a crusade, by the hope of eternal salvation,
and by the more immediate prospect of worldly advantage, crowds of
European adventurers now poured into the Peninsula. Among these a
body of Normans, under William de Montreuil, laid siege to Barbastro,
a populous frontier town of Aragon. Their valor eventually carried
the day, and after a gallant defence the place was surrendered under
articles of capitulation. Scarcely had the Normans entered, before
these were repudiated; the garrison was surrounded and killed; six
thousand of the citizens were massacred outside the walls, and the
remainder were doomed to slavery. The atrocities practised by these
Christian barbarians seem incredible. Such was the amount of booty,
that an inferior officer is said to have received as his share five
hundred loads of merchandise and fifteen hundred maidens. In the
general division, as was customary, the master with his household
and possessions were delivered to the fortunate soldier, who at once
proceeded, by ingenious tortures, to insult the distress of his victim
and inflict upon him exquisite pain in order to compel the discovery
of hidden treasure. The female members of his family were violated in
his presence. His body was plunged into boiling oil. He was hacked
with swords and battle-axes and his limbs were slowly wasted by fire.
The inhumanities which attended the capture of Barbastro are hardly
paralleled in any of the bloody annals which recount the crusading
exploits of Christian Europe.
During the period of universal anarchy that succeeded the disruption of
the khalifate, it is only the larger principalities which, either on
account of greater political influence or more advanced conditions of
civilization, are worthy of the notice of the historian. An innumerable
number of insignificant states arose upon the ruins of that splendid
monarchy. Every wali of a district, every governor of a city, aspired
to the pomp and consequence of an independent sovereign. A few of these
escaped the ruin which overwhelmed their less fortunate countrymen.
Others were conquered by the Andalusian princes. The domain of others
was forcibly incorporated into the fast-growing monarchy of Castile.
With all war was the rule and peace the exception. In the North,
the Africans, banished thither by the khalifs for their turbulence
and encouraged by the proximity of the Christians whose alliance had
often encouraged them to defy the edicts of the court of Cordova, had
long been practically independent. In the South, Berber adventurers,
incited by the success of Al-Mansur, indulged unmolested their natural
propensity to robbery and murder. In Valencia and Granada, the
Slaves, whose rapacity was under the early khalifs the reproach of
the government, predominated in numbers, wealth, and in influence. In
the provinces of Estremadura and the Algarves, the Arabs maintained
their ancient and hereditary pride and insubordination. None of these
factions were united under a single head. They were split up into a
score of bodies, acknowledging temporarily the authority of some petty
chieftain, and entertaining as much animosity against their neighbors
as they cherished towards their national enemies. The mutual jealousies
of these obscure rulers were sedulously inflamed by the politic
Christians, who never refused to promote, by supplies of men and money,
the quarrels which were constantly undermining the Moslem power in the
Peninsula.
Thus political demoralization, impelled both by internal discord and
foreign interference, went steadily on. National unity was unknown to
the Arabs, with whom the largest measure of personal liberty was the
rule of public as well as of private life. That principle of cohesion
which binds communities together by the ties of common interest was not
recognized in a society where each man considered he had an inalienable
right, based upon immemorial prescription and the traditions of the
Desert, to plunder his neighbor. Even the greatest of the Ommeyade
khalifs were hated by the people. Their lives were never safe. Their
persons were constantly guarded by armed foreigners,--Christian
Mamelukes, Berber mercenaries, African eunuchs. Fear alone maintained
their authority. Their subjects were ignorant of loyalty, patriotism,
public spirit, or national honor. The victories of these princes might
dazzle the populace. Their liberality might for the moment secure the
attachment of the army. The erection of magnificent houses of worship
might elicit the applause of the devout; but the possession of the most
noble qualities availed nothing in the hour of disaster. The prestige
of a distinguished name, the memory of splendid exploits, the sight
of grand architectural monuments, the omnipresent culture of a great
people, were trifles in the eyes of the Arab bent on blood-revenge,
or of the Berber savage with the prospect of the booty of a palace
like that of the Medina-al-Zahrâ before him. The rottenness of the
Moslem system was disclosed by the death of Al-Mansur. He was the most
illustrious captain who ever led the armies of Islam to battle. He was
the greatest potentate in Europe. In a quarter of a century of constant
warfare no reverses had ever diminished his popularity or tarnished
his renown. To all appearances, his power, nominally the power of the
khalifate, was established upon an enduring and impregnable basis.
Yet he was hardly in his grave before the imposing fabric of the
Moorish empire crumbled into dust, and with it disappeared forever the
grandeur, the glory, and the civilization of three hundred eventful
years.