History of the Moorish Empire in Europe, Vol. 1 (of 3)

Simultaneously with the accession of Hischem II. a gigantic and ominous figure, like a portentous spectre, at once the impersonation of glory and the harbinger of ruin, appears upon the theatre of action in the Peninsula. Under the two preceding sovereigns the Moslem Empire of the West had made unparalleled advances in useful knowledge, in commercial prosperity, in all the arts which raise nations to the most exalted rank in the scale of civilization. Peace reigned everywhere within its borders. The tendency to sedition, which had so long obstructed its prosperity and depleted its population, had been vigorously and successfully repressed. Justice, untainted with even the suspicion of corruption, and which was no respecter of persons, was dispensed by its tribunals. Its system of education and its results were the wonder of the age. The achievements of its learned men, who were scattered over Europe, had caused them to incur the suspicion of, and, in some instances, even to endure the penalties attaching to the profession and the practice of magic. And yet, with all its greatness and all its fame, the khalifate was destined, under the administration of the phantom monarch Hischem II.—the last of his dynasty—to attain to a still higher position among the nations of the earth. This pre-eminent distinction; the unbroken triumph of more than fifty campaigns; the humiliation of its enemies in their formerly impregnable strongholds; the desecration and plunder of their most sacred shrines; the devastation and impoverishment of their territory; their regular payment of tribute and acknowledgment of vassalage,—all of these results are to be attributed to the talents of the hajib, Al-Mansur, the most consummate political and military genius that ever guided the destinies of any portion of the vast and opulent empire conquered and ruled by the sectaries of Mohammed.

Among the adventurers who followed the banner of Tarik at the time of the Conquest was Abd-al-Melik, an Arab descended from a noble family of Yemen, whom political entanglements and financial reverses had compelled to assume the hazardous but attractive calling of a soldier of fortune. The scarcity of men of intelligence and integrity in an army of barbarians led to the appointment of the illustrious exile to the command of a division. In this capacity he occupied the ancient town of Carteya, the first fortified place taken by the invaders. After participating in the campaigns of Tarik and Musa, Abd-al-Melik retired to the castle of Torrox on the Guadiaro, which had fallen to his share in the general distribution of the confiscated lands of the Visigothic monarchy. Although not belonging to the Koreishite aristocracy, his family was distinguished by its former services to the state as well as by its social position and scholastic acquirements. The great-grandson of Abd-al-Melik had been the hajib of the Emir Mohammed, who loaded him with wealth and honors. Many of his descendants contracted matrimonial alliances with the daughters of great physicians, theologians, statesmen. Others filled with credit high employments at court and in the judiciary. But, with the exception of the founder of the house, none had embraced that martial profession from whence it originally derived its eminence. The representative of this family, at the commencement of the reign of Al-Hakem II., was Mohammed-Ibn-abi-Amir, a student of law in the University of Cordova.

It was but a few days after the death of Abd-al-Rahman III. that a group of students, five in number, were seated in a garden belonging to one of the houses of public entertainment which abounded in the suburbs of the great Moslem capital. Darkness had fallen, and the reflection from the myriads of lights, distributed for miles around, diffused its tempered glow over the innumerable palms and tropical plants which adorned the streets and public parks, whose sombre foliage was further brightened by many bronze lamps of curious design, suspended here and there from the branches. The fragrance of flowers filled the air. The balmy softness of the Andalusian climate exerted its voluptuous influence; the perfumed breeze brought to the drowsy ear the confused murmur of the distant city, about to rest from the labors of the day, and the broken notes of a plaintive song, to which some anxious lover under a neighboring balcony was keeping an accompaniment with the lute. Upon the table were the fragments of a repast, and an empty flagon which had contained the amber wine of Jerez, whose condition showed that the revellers viewed with scant reverence the menacing injunctions of the Prophet. The conversation of four of the party was lively and boisterous; the fifth, however, plunged in an absorbing reverie, had, for some time, preserved a gloomy and unbroken silence. “What ails thee, O Ibn-abi-Amir?” at length exclaimed one of his companions; “thou art as pensive as a faqui and as silent as a camel that treads the sand-drifts of the Desert; hast thou perchance lost thy mistress?”

“I have long had a presentiment, O Mohammed, that one day I should rule this land; let each of you now declare what public employment he most desires, and I pledge my word that when I rise to power it shall be conferred upon him,” responded the taciturn student.

A roar of laughter greeted this unexpected reply.

“Ah!” said one of the merry collegians, “these figs are delicious, and I should be pleased to live in Malaga, where they grow; for my part I choose to be governor of that province.”

Another exclaimed, “I have never tasted anything as good as these cakes. I beg you to appoint me inspector of markets, for then I shall be surfeited with delicacies, without the expenditure of a single dirhem.”

Another said, “I am enchanted with this magnificent city; whose shrine is the glory of Islam; whose suburbs are inferior only to the gardens of Paradise; whose wealth surpasses all the treasures of the Orient; whose palaces are the wonder of the world. I prefer, above all other offices, the prefecture of Cordova.”

The fourth student remained sullen and silent.

“O Abdallah!” said one of his companions, “why dost thou not profit by the generosity of the future ruler of Andaluz?”

Abdallah rose, and, seizing Ibn-abi-Amir by the beard, exclaimed, in a voice choked with indignation and rage, “Wretched boaster! thy insolent presumption exceeds that of Iblis himself,—thou the ruler of Andaluz! Let the first act of thy authority be to have me stripped naked, smeared with honey that the bees and flies may sting me, placed upon a donkey with my face to his tail, and paraded in this condition through the streets of the capital. This is the favor that I demand of thee, who with thy insufferable conceit and arrogance doth insult the majesty of the khalifate, and the honor and dignity of the Successors of the Prophet of God!”

Releasing himself with some difficulty, and stifling, as best he could, his resentment at the most outrageous affront that could be offered to a Mussulman, Ibn-abi-Amir calmly replied, “The time will come when you will all have cause to remember this day. I shall not forget my promise, and each of you shall have his request granted, according to the literal terms in which he has preferred it.”

Such was the self-confidence of Ibn-abi-Amir, who, while a poor and obscure youth, almost unknown amidst the thousands of students in attendance at the University of Cordova, yet animated by the inspiration of genius and conscious of his capacity for great undertakings, could thus indulge in seemingly extravagant dreams of empire. But with all this apparent presumption his was no common character. He united in a remarkable degree all the qualities which conduct men to political eminence. Bold even to the verge of audacity; energetic, persevering, and hopeful under the most discouraging circumstances; inexhaustible in resource; absolutely indifferent as to the morality of the means employed to attain an end so long as its expediency was established; a grateful friend and an implacable enemy; an adroit negotiator; a born commander; almost from boyhood he seemed to have employed his extraordinary abilities in the accomplishment of the lofty design which was the cherished object of his unscrupulous ambition. His features were regular, his conversation agreeable, his manners captivating to a degree that excited admiration in a society whose politeness was proverbial, and the stately etiquette of whose court was not excelled by that of any country or of any age. His knowledge of human nature was so unerring that it almost seemed the result of inspiration. No one could resist the fascinating influence that invested his presence. No one could withstand the effects of his resentment. And yet, despite his fiery nature, the profound policy which guided all his actions enabled him to restrain his anger and control his passions until the time for vengeance had come. He was an accomplished scholar, especially well versed in jurisprudence, and had early familiarized himself with the stirring annals of Islam; with the arduous struggles of its Founder; with the sufferings of its martyrs; with its victories and its disasters; with the wonderful progress of its civilization; with the martial achievements of its heroes. He knew by heart the story of the great captains and statesmen, many of whom, though born in an obscure station like himself, had made the Moslem cause illustrious under the dynasties of the East and West. Thus, gifted with every talent that nature could bestow; his faculties strengthened and developed by the advantages derived from a thorough mental training; his being dominated by an iron will whose power was directed to the realization of a project which for the time absorbed every other aspiration, the unknown and penniless adventurer prepared to push his fortunes.

After his education was completed, he managed to obtain a precarious livelihood in the capacity of a public writer who drew up petitions to be presented to the Khalif. His skill in chirography, and his knowledge of jurisprudence, obtained for him, in a short time, the place of under-secretary in the supreme tribunal of Cordova. But the kadi, a magistrate of strict integrity and a man of reserved disposition and unsociable manners, soon contracted a prejudice against his gay and versatile subordinate, and while he could not deny his extraordinary abilities, his dignity was shocked by his habitual levity. So he applied to the vizier Moshafi to give his employee some other appointment. The vizier, knowing that Al-Hakem was about to select a steward for the estate of Prince Hischem, suggested the name of Ibn-abi-Amir. The Khalif was willing, but the appointment was, in reality, vested in the favorite sultana, Aurora. The latter was a Christian by birth and a woman of great beauty, of avaricious disposition, of lax morals, and of a fiery temper. She enjoys the rare and doubtful distinction of being the only member of her sex who, during the sway of the Ommeyade dynasty, exercised an influence over the political destinies of her country. Her position as mother of the heir apparent—the only surviving son of Al-Hakem—had given her an unbounded ascendant over the mind of her husband, which she did not hesitate to abuse for her own personal benefit. There were many candidates for the coveted office, whose dignity and emoluments, important as they were, yet bore no proportion to the secret power wielded by the incumbent and the opportunities it afforded for elevation to the highest employments of the court.

Once established in a position where he could thoroughly avail himself of his talents, Ibn-abi-Amir soon rose to distinction. He found favor in the eyes of the Sultana Aurora, who appointed him steward of her household. Through her influence—all powerful with the Khalif—seven months after his introduction by the vizier Moshafi and before he had attained his twenty-seventh year, he was advanced to the responsible office of Superintendent of the Mint, which included many of the functions of a minister of finance. The keen observation of the young official soon disclosed to his penetrating mind the rare facilities for pecuniary aggrandizement and political promotion his place afforded to a man of tireless energy, unscrupulous character, and boundless aspirations. His duties brought him daily into intimate relations with the most powerful dignitaries of the empire. Great sums of money were at his disposal. The implicit confidence reposed in him, and the high favor he enjoyed at court, rendered it improbable that any inspection of his accounts would be ordered without timely warning, and an opportunity afforded to correct any embarrassing deficit. The regular habits of his life, severe almost to austerity; his knowledge of affairs; the inspiration of his genius which seemed to solve, without an effort, formidable problems of political economy and finance which defied the capacity and industry of others, peculiarly fitted him for the important post he occupied. While strictly observant of his responsibilities, every circumstance of his surroundings, every suggestion of his commanding intellect, were made subservient to the purposes of his ambition. By the exquisite courtesy of his manners and the deference he displayed towards his superiors, he conciliated the proud and exclusive nobility, who at first looked with marked disapproval upon the rapid elevation of the aspiring young statesman. The lower classes were charmed by his condescension, by his generosity, by his affability, by the tact that never forgot the claims of old acquaintance, by the gratitude that never failed to acknowledge the obligations of ancient friendship. The treasures of the state were used, without stint or scruple, to increase or to strengthen the following of the Superintendent of the Mint. No one in distress applied to him without relief. The fame of his public benefactions spread even to the borders of the khalifate. Thus, by the improvement of every opportunity, and by the judicious employment of the unlimited means at his disposal, Ibn-abi-Amir organized and controlled a large and growing party of adherents, whose loyalty to his person and his interests was in many instances even stronger than the devotion which they entertained towards their lawful sovereign.

It was not, however, through his influence with the nobility, nor from his popularity with the masses, that Ibn-abi-Amir derived his most sanguine hopes of success. His personal attractions had captivated the susceptible Sultana, who, blessed with an unsuspicious and complacent husband, scarcely deigned to conceal her admiration for her handsome protégé. An intimacy was established between them, whose continuance seems strangely incompatible with the jealous espionage of an Oriental court, and which furnished an inexhaustible fund of raillery for the sarcastic and anonymous poets of the capital. Every whim of the fair Aurora was gratified by her devoted steward. Her wishes were often anticipated. The silence of the occupants and the slaves of the harem was procured and retained by the distribution of costly gifts. The princess herself was the beneficiary of the most prodigal munificence. On one occasion, Ibn-abi-Amir caused to be constructed for her a miniature palace of massy silver. Every detail of and appendage to a royal dwelling was reproduced in this expensive and ingenious toy. The eunuchs, the guards, the attendants, in their appropriate garb, were represented by tiny statuettes. The fountains were supplied with delicate perfumes instead of water. The gorgeous ornamentations of an alcazar were delineated with marvellous fidelity and beauty. This magnificent present excited the wonder of the populace, when, supported upon the shoulders of a score of slaves, it was borne through the streets to the palace and laid at the feet of the delighted Aurora. But this crowning exhibition of extravagance came near being attended with serious consequences. The promotion of Ibn-abi-Amir, despite his tact and liberality, which disarmed the envy and malice of the courtiers, had raised up against him powerful and resolute enemies. The latter openly accused the Superintendent of the Mint of embezzlement of the public funds. With the summary proceedings characteristic of an arbitrary government, Ibn-abi-Amir was cited at once before the Divan, and ordered to produce his books and all the treasure in his possession. The wary minister was equal to the emergency. A thorough accountant, he knew at the close of each day the exact amount of the deficit which he was conscious must, some time or other, be made good. He applied to the vizier, Ibn-Hodair, who was indebted to him for numerous favors, for a temporary loan of several thousand pieces of gold. The vizier was only too happy to oblige his friend; the accuracy of the accounts was verified; the sum for which the Superintendent of the Mint was responsible was found to be intact; and those who had impeached the official integrity of the minister were branded with the obloquy which attaches to the unsuccessful persecution of an honest and capable public servant.

The credit of Ibn-abi-Amir now rose higher than ever. His success in extricating himself from the snare which had been so artfully laid for him extorted the unwilling praise of his adversaries. To make amends for the apparent injustice he had done the favorite by impugning his honesty, Al-Hakem conferred upon him new and repeated marks of his confidence. He became, in succession, trustee of intestate estates, Kadi of Seville, and Chief of Police of Cordova. A still greater dignity was soon afterwards tendered him, and one whose importance in advancing his interests he was not slow to appreciate.

The enormous expenditures of Ghalib in Mauritania, which he had represented as necessary to detach the Berber chieftains from the standard of Ibn-Kenun, had aroused the suspicions of the Khalif. The interests of the government in Africa demanded the presence of an able financier, whose prudence and authority might curb the extravagance or stop the peculations of the generals who were squandering the revenues of the empire. The reputation of Ibn-abi-Amir designated him as the most available personage to discharge the duties of this important but invidious employment. He was accordingly appointed kadi of the entire province of Mauritania and invested with extraordinary powers. His control over the finances of the civil and military administrations was unlimited and supreme. He was directed to supervise all expenditures and to rigidly scrutinize all accounts. Such was the confidence reposed in his judgment, and the high opinion entertained of his talents by the Khalif, that, although he was entirely destitute of military training or experience, the veteran generals of the African army were ordered to undertake no operations without previous consultation with the Kadi of Mauritania. The difficulties attending the administration of a charge of this character and responsibility were such as would have utterly baffled a less dexterous and politic statesman than Ibn-abi-Amir. By the army he was regarded as an ignorant upstart, by the civil officials as a spy and informer. But his rare adroitness and the irresistible fascination of his manners soon removed these prejudices. Without neglecting the interests of his master, he succeeded in acquiring the esteem of the officers and the respect of the soldiery. He astonished the former by his opportune suggestions concerning an art with the application of whose rules he had no practical acquaintance. He engaged in the conversation, participated in the amusements, and shared the privations of the latter. His tenacious memory, which recalled without effort the name of every individual he had once seen, aided materially to the increase and the preservation of his personal popularity. With a view to future contingencies, the sagacious minister neglected no occasion to secure the good will of the Berber chieftains. He shared their rude but generous hospitality. He flattered their ridiculous pretensions, and indulged their hereditary prejudices. He impressed them with his power by an imposing display of pomp and magnificence. The presents which he lavished upon them were reported and exaggerated with barbarian hyperbole in every camp of the Desert. Such was the affection with which he came to be regarded by the ferocious bandits of Mauritania that it almost supplanted the semi-religious respect claimed and exacted by their sheiks, who exercised the functions of a precarious magistracy, based rather upon temporary and conditional submission than established by the absolute and permanent renunciation of a part of the natural rights of the governed.

After the return of Ibn-abi-Amir in the train of the victorious Ghalib, he assumed a state corresponding with his rank and the public estimation in which he was held. His palace at Rusafah, one of the most charming suburbs of Cordova, rivalled the abodes of royalty in elegance and splendor. The most exquisite decorations embellished its walls. Its extensive gardens exhibited all the luxuriance and beauty of the tropics. The groves swarmed with nightingales and birds of gorgeous plumage. Innumerable fountains diffused on every side their welcome and refreshing spray. Multitudes of slaves, arrayed in brilliant robes of silk, thronged the corridors. In the great marble dining-hall a table was constantly laid for the benefit of all who desired to partake of the hospitality of the owner. The influence and popularity of the latter were daily manifested by the throng of petitioners who, from dawn to sunset, obstructed the gates of the palace. Of all this crowd, no suppliant, however humble, was suffered to depart without a courteous and attentive hearing. The constant accumulation of business, and the demands of the various official employments of the minister, required the services of a great number of clerks and secretaries. These offices, while no sinecures, were eagerly solicited by youths connected with the most respectable families of Cordova, who esteemed it an honor to perfect their political education under so accomplished a master, and who were not slow to detect that through his service lay the path to future power and distinction. The popularity of Ibn-abi-Amir, who, in addition to his other official functions, had recently assumed those of the steward of the palace, was at its height when Al-Hakem died; and the minister, with the Vizier Moshafi, who had jointly been invested with that trust by the Khalif, prepared to establish the regency and assume control of the empire.

The apprehensions entertained by Al-Hakem of the public disapprobation attending the accession of a minor were speedily realized. The gradual divergence from the ancient constitution of the Arabs, which recognized only the claims of princes of mature age and established reputation, was viewed with suspicion and dislike by every class of the people. The merely factitious title of hereditary descent was not sufficient, in their eyes, to compensate for the dangers liable to result from want of experience and administrative ability. The investiture of an infant with regal authority was uniformly regarded by the superstitious as an evil omen, which portended the destruction of the monarchy. The case was, moreover, without precedent in the history of the khalifate, for the wise sovereigns of the House of Ommeyah had invariably, under similar circumstances, subordinated paternal fondness to the paramount interests of the state. In this instance, the expediency of an opposite course was obvious, for the brothers of Al-Hakem were universally recognized as thoroughly competent to discharge with credit the high and responsible duties connected with the exercise of the supreme power. Fully cognizant of this prejudice, the eunuchs, those baneful parasites of Oriental despotism whose lives were passed in an atmosphere of intrigue and corruption, dexterously prepared to avail themselves of the popular discontent for the promotion of their own designs. These incarnate fiends, who found in the betrayal of their fellow-creatures an inadequate but grateful compensation for the outrage inflicted on them by society, had acquired, with every reign, a fresh accession of pride and insolence. A picked body of a thousand of them constituted the guard of the harem. Although slaves, they enjoyed exclusive privileges, and, with every opportunity for the indulgence of their dominating passion of avarice, had accumulated vast possessions. A mistaken idea, imported with other noxious principles from the Orient, caused the immunity of the eunuch and the exhibition of his opulence to be considered as a necessary appendage to the grandeur of the sovereign. As a natural result of this opinion, the impudence and oppression of this powerful caste were exercised without restraint until they became intolerable. They robbed tradesmen with impunity. They scourged with relentless brutality such unfortunate pedestrians as crossed their pathway. They invaded the privacy of households and insulted their inmates,—an inexpiable offence under Mussulman law. They borrowed large sums of money from wealthy merchants under conditions which practically amounted to confiscation. Their sanguinary brawls with the populace, in which the police dared not interfere, constantly disturbed the peace of the city. No tribunal would venture to entertain a complaint against these petty tyrants; and the equitable disposition of the Khalif himself was changed to gross partiality, where the punishment of a member of that privileged guard, whose license he considered indispensable to his own safety, was concerned. The chiefs of this corps, which was at once the terror and the reproach of the capital, were Fayic and Djaudar, one of whom was Master of the Wardrobe, the other, Grand Falconer. The affluence and power of these two officials; the lucrative employments they controlled; the boundless opportunities for peculation they enjoyed and improved; their constant and unceremonious access to the monarch; their almost irresponsible authority over the palace and the harem, gave them a consideration not possessed by any of the other great dignitaries of the khalifate. From all who approached them they exacted the deference and the etiquette due only to those in the highest station. An armed retinue, splendidly equipped, guarded their persons when they went abroad. In accordance with the anomalous conditions which prevailed in the society of Moorish Spain,—where soldiers served eunuchs and freemen obeyed the behests of slaves,—a numerous following of dependents and employees, who had not been subjected to either the torture of emasculation or the restraints of servitude, awaited the pleasure of the unprincipled favorites of royalty. Their consequence was disclosed by the multitudes that incessantly besieged the gates of their palaces. The horror and mystery which invested their character and their lives were frequently increased by the sudden and permanent disappearance of persons who were known to have incurred their enmity.

The death of Al-Hakem was unexpected, and no one was present during his last moments excepting the chief eunuchs, Fayic and Djaudar. These crafty individuals, conscious of the unpopularity of their caste, and knowing that their crimes would receive scant indulgence at the hands of the ministers Ibn-abi-Amir and Moshafi, determined to suppress for a time the intelligence of the Khalif’s death, change the succession, and thereby secure for themselves a continuance of power. The prince they selected to occupy the vacant throne was Moghira, the brother of Al-Hakem. But a first and indispensable requisite for the success of the enterprise was, according to the practical Djaudar, the assassination of the vizier Moshafi. To this suggestion, Fayic, who underestimated the capacity and resolution of the minister, refused to accede. After some discussion, it was determined to send for Moshafi, and endeavor, by every inducement possible, to turn him from his allegiance. Nothing could have been more gratifying to the conspirators than the compliance of the vizier. He appeared to enter heartily into the scheme, gave his new associates much wise counsel, and promised that he in person would, at the proper moment, guard the door of the palace. Then returning to his residence, he hastily assembled a number of civil and military officials upon whose fidelity he could depend, and acquainted them with the plot that had just come to his knowledge. The danger was imminent; the accession of Moghira, and the supremacy of the eunuchs which was certain to result from it and would affect the life or fortunes of every prominent member of the government, demanded the most energetic action. It was determined, without a dissenting voice, that Moghira should be put to death. This resolution was easily taken, but its execution was a different matter. The amiable and inoffensive character of the prince rendered his deliberate assassination extremely repugnant even to men whose cruel habits and sanguinary experience had ordinarily rendered them deaf to the appeals of pity. At length, Ibn-abi-Amir rose amidst the silent assembly, and agreed to assume the invidious office of executioner. At the head of a strong guard, he proceeded at once to the palace of the unhappy Moghira, who was equally unconscious of the death of his brother, of the dangerous honor for which the ambition of the eunuchs had designated him, and of the stern decree which had just sealed his fate. With all the matchless courtesy for which he was distinguished, the messenger of death announced his errand. Overcome with grief at the loss of his brother, and terrified by the presence of the soldiery, Moghira, after giving utterances to the most fervid protestations of devotion to his nephew, implored with tears the clemency of the minister. Deeply moved by the distress of the prince, the resolution of Ibn-abi-Amir faltered, and he despatched a messenger to the vizier, declaring his confidence in the loyalty of Moghira, and suggesting that the decree of the council should be modified and imprisonment be substituted for the penalty of death. The reply of Moshafi was peremptory: “Execute him at once; if thou dost not like the commission thou hast voluntarily undertaken, I will send another not troubled with such unseasonable scruples.” Further delay was out of the question; Moghira was strangled, and the room in which the crime was perpetrated was at once walled up with solid masonry. The memory of this deed, as cruel as it was unwise, long rankled in the heart of Ibn-abi-Amir. He never forgave the vizier for the guilt he had incurred through his agency, by an act whose expediency no sophistry could establish, and whose barbarity no political necessity could excuse. The time was soon to come when the relentless Moshafi was to experience, in his turn, all the bitterness of death without its consolations; all the mortifications which attend the loss of power and fortune; all the pangs of conscience which proceed from the violation of the immutable laws of justice and the wanton sacrifice of the most obvious principles of morality.

The placid exterior of Ibn-abi-Amir gave no sign of his outraged feelings when he returned to his colleagues, but his spirit had been deeply moved, and, with the vindictive energy of his nature, he treasured up against the vizier a terrible account to be discharged upon the day of reckoning.

The chief eunuchs received with consternation the news of the betrayal of their project and the death of the prince; but they were so satisfied of the security of their power that they did not for an instant suspend their treasonable operations. Their emissaries, dispersed among the populace, multiplied by their artful representations the perils incident to the accession of a sovereign who had not yet passed the age of childhood. The circumstances attending the murder of Moghira—unjustifiable enough in themselves—were distorted and exaggerated. The resentment of the masses was inflamed against the ministers, whose rapacity and ambition, it was suggested, would subordinate to their own designs every consideration connected with the safety of the state and the prosperity of the empire. The services of influential and mercenary demagogues were enlisted; the wealth of the eunuchs was lavished without stint to secure and retain their partisans; open denunciations of the authorities were heard on every hand; the appearance of a member of the unpopular faction in the streets was the signal for a riot; and the restless and seditious population of Cordova seemed again ripe for revolution.

The manifest incompetency of Moshafi to deal with the situation impelled Ibn-abi-Amir, who had been raised to the office of vizier, to proffer to the Divan some wholesome advice, couched in terms not distinguishable from those of command. The rebellious ardor of the mob was damped by an imposing military display in which the youthful Khalif participated. The good-will of the poor was at the same time secured by the remission of certain oppressive taxes levied during the reign of Al-Hakem, and which had been the source of great annoyance and distress. The danger of an uprising having been for the moment removed, Ibn-abi-Amir bent all his energies to the destruction of the power of the eunuchs. His secret agents exercised vigilant and incessant espionage over their movements. His gold seduced their retainers. Those who had suffered from the avarice and injustice of the subordinates of the Master of the Wardrobe and the Grand Falconer were privately encouraged to institute proceedings against their oppressors. Some of the latter were imprisoned, others were executed, others again sought safety in flight. Of the chiefs, Djaudar was forced to resign his employments, and Fayic was banished to Majorca, where he died, not long afterwards, in poverty. The discomfiture of these bold conspirators allayed the popular excitement, which was principally due to their machinations, and enabled the government to turn its attention to another quarter, where the success of the Christians was causing great and increasing alarm.

The political agitation which followed the death of Al-Hakem and the settlement of the regency was well known to the courts of Leon and Navarre. The occasion was considered an auspicious one for the abrogation of treaties; for the repudiation of the hateful obligations of tribute; for the seizure of territory acquired by Moslem valor; for the recovery of military prestige lost since the time of the great Abd-al-Rahman. The active partisans of the North accordingly swarmed over the unprotected provinces, whose inhabitants had slackened their vigilance and neglected their arms during the long and pacific reign of Al-Hakem. Little resistance was encountered, owing to the incompetency of the officers charged with the defence of the frontier. The habitual indolence of Moshafi was soon found to be unable to cope with these enterprising marauders, who eluded his squadrons and spread terror and ruin among the rich plantations and hamlets of Andalusia. At length, emboldened by success, they passed the Sierra Morena, and the ominous spectacle of the banners of the infidel was once more visible from the towers of the capital. This defiance was more than the pride of the Sultana could endure. She sent for Ibn-abi-Amir, and implored him to chastise the insolence of the Christians. A council was accordingly held, and an expedition resolved upon. The vizier, with his usual address, managed to be assigned to the supreme command, and, to avoid as far as possible the contingency of a reverse, the wary general, with the closest discrimination, selected for this service the most trustworthy officers and the most experienced veterans of the army.

At this time Ibn-abi-Amir had just entered his thirty-ninth year. Of the theory of the art of war he knew but little, of the practical application of its principles absolutely nothing. His entire life had been passed in avocations whose duties were rather a hinderance than an aid to service in the field. But the powers of his mind, equal to any emergency, enabled him to surmount with ease the apparently insuperable obstacles that now confronted him. If he was deficient in military knowledge and experience, he was, on the other hand, endowed with qualities too often ignored or despised by the martinet. In prudence, in coolness, in judgment, in courage, he was not surpassed by the most accomplished leader that ever directed the movements of an army. The hitherto successful realization of his projects, which he had foreseen and carefully planned, inspired him with a just, but not an arrogant, confidence in the capabilities of his genius. He possessed the secret of ingratiating himself with the soldiers, whose devotion to his person subsequently carried the day on many a hard-fought and doubtful field. All, of whatever rank, shared most liberally the fruits of his bounty. The officers were daily entertained at his table. Individual prowess was generously rewarded. The most trifling infraction of discipline was punished with inflexible severity. Such was the policy that guided the conduct of the new general from the very beginning of his martial career. Under the circumstances, it is not at all surprising that his arms for a quarter of a century should have been absolutely invincible.

The first expedition of Ibn-abi-Amir was not remarkable for the results which it accomplished in a military point of view. But its moral effects upon both Moslem and Christian were far more important than would seem to proceed from a mere foray into the country of the enemy. It revived the declining prestige of the khalifate. It raised the flagging ardor of the soldiery, enervated by the vices and the indolence of an uneventful and protracted peace. It aroused well-grounded hopes of future conquest and glory under a new and enterprising commander. It convinced the implacable enemies of Islam that the warlike spirit which had so long defeated their projects and obstructed their ambition was not yet extinct. The flying squadrons of Leonese ceased to plunder the villages of Andalusia. The shepherd and the husbandman were henceforth permitted to pursue their vocations in security. The standards of the infidel, emblazoned with the detested symbol of the cross, no longer disturbed the devotions or insulted the majesty of the Moslem capital.

The power of Ibn-abi-Amir being established upon a solid foundation, he began to mature plans he had long meditated for the acquisition and exercise of the supreme authority. The talents he had exhibited, the success he had achieved, had made him the most distinguished and commanding figure in the kingdom. He now determined to disembarrass himself, in turn, of such great officials of state as might be able to thwart him in the execution of his ambitious projects, and he decided to begin with Moshafi, the only one whose eminent position could suggest the possibility of rivalry. In the execution of this project, antipathy of race, ever conspicuous in the Moorish contests for supremacy, lent its aid to jealousy of power. Moshafi was of Berber extraction, and consequently obnoxious to the Arab faction to which Ibn-abi-Amir belonged. The vizier owed the consideration in which he was held by Al-Hakem solely to his literary attainments, which were a greater recommendation to the favor of that monarch than either talents for statesmanship or renown in arms. His pride was excessive; his character lacked decision; his penuriousness was proverbial; his peculations conspicuous in a court where moral and political integrity were the exception. He was already a mere puppet in the hands of his colleague, whose genius had obtained over his feeble and irresolute mind a complete ascendency. While maintaining the closest relations with Moshafi, his perfidious enemy availed himself of every means to effect his ruin. He constantly excited against him the prejudices of the Sultana Aurora. He obtained the promotion of Ghalib, the most distinguished officer of the army, and between whom and Moshafi there existed a bitter feud, to the highest rank in the military service. He even enlisted the aid of the unsuspicious vizier for this purpose by representing the necessity of a reconciliation with that leader, whose popularity with the soldiery, seconded by his ambition, might at any time accomplish the overthrow of the administration. Then, this adept in the arts of intrigue contracted an intimate alliance with Ghalib, whose principal object was the destruction of the obnoxious vizier. The two associates worked for a time in harmony for the promotion of their common interests. Each lauded to the skies the talents and the virtues of the other. In return for the high commands with which he had been invested, Ghalib exaggerated the achievements of his companion. His fulsome praise of the latter secured for him the prefecture of Cordova, an appointment which involved the dismissal of the son of Moshafi, who enjoyed the emoluments without discharging the duties of that responsible office. The venality of this youth, from whom money could at any time obtain immunity from punishment for even the most notorious criminal, had completely disorganized the police system of the city. Footpads infested the streets. Theft and murder were of nightly occurrence, and the citizens were compelled to rely upon their own vigilance and courage for that protection to which they were entitled by law. The mercenary character of the prefect, and the general demoralization of the municipal government, had, in addition to the refuse of a great capital, attracted from far and near bands of desperate characters, eager to profit by the spoils of successful and unmolested robbery.

But a change was now at hand. The new prefect brought to the administration of the affairs of his office the same inflexible justice, the same severity, the same resolution, which had elsewhere distinguished his conduct in a public capacity. The police system was remodelled. Its members, terrified by some salutary examples, which the exigencies of the service required, no longer fraternized with criminals. The foreign outlaws fled precipitately from the city. The streets could once more be traversed in security, the suburbs ceased to be the scene of tumult and disorder. The advantages of rank and fortune gave no immunity to offenders under the stern jurisdiction of Ibn-abi-Amir. Even the ties of blood were ignored by this impartial magistrate, for his own son, having been convicted of some violation of the law, received such a terrible scourging that he died under the hands of the executioner.

In the meantime, the friends of Moshafi had called his attention to the dangers that threatened him, and which his perceptions had not been acute enough to detect. The crisis was imminent, and the vizier saw no other means to counteract the insidious designs of his rival except by courting the favor of his ancient enemy Ghalib. He determined at once upon a bold stroke of policy, and, with every manifestation of honor and deference, requested the hand of the daughter of Ghalib for one of his sons. The pride of the veteran, despite his deep-seated feelings of enmity, was flattered by the compliment. The family of Moshafi, while not noble, was one of the most distinguished in Andalusia. His wealth, acquired by years of peculation, was known to be immense, and his authority nominally directed the affairs of the khalifate. Impressed with the advantages of such a matrimonial alliance, Ghalib readily assented to the proposition of the vizier. Delighted beyond measure with his success, Moshafi lost no time in arranging the preliminaries; the marriage-contract was signed, and a day appointed for the final ceremony. But these arrangements could not be concluded without the knowledge of the spies of Ibn-abi-Amir, some of whom were members of the household of the vizier. The latter soon discovered that he was no match for his wily adversary. His plots were met by counter-plots. The influence of the Sultana, supported by the entire following of Ibn-abi-Amir, whose friends included some of the highest functionaries of the khalifate, was exerted to shake the resolution of Ghalib. The motives of Moshafi were impugned. It was artfully insinuated that this sudden demonstration of friendship was only a convenient mask for some deep-laid act of perfidy. The implacable hatred so long entertained by the vizier against the veteran commander gave considerable color of probability to this suggestion. And finally, Ibn-abi-Amir himself made a formal demand for the hand of the beautiful Asma, protesting that the son of the plebeian Moshafi was unworthy of a damsel whose rank and beauty might well entitle her to be the bride of the most powerful subject of the Moslem empire. The constancy of Ghalib was not proof against these plausible representations. Without warning, he repudiated his engagements with Moshafi. His daughter became the wife of Ibn-abi-Amir; their nuptials were celebrated with a pomp exceeding anything of the kind ever held in the capital; and the bridegroom himself was appointed to the office of hajib, the most exalted dignity in the gift of the crown.

From this time the fall of Moshafi was rapid. The worthless friends of his prosperity, one by one, abandoned him. He was imprisoned along with the male members of his family, and their property was seized pending an investigation for malfeasance in office. There was no difficulty in establishing the truth of this accusation. The offences of the culprits had been flagrant and notorious. The sentence of confiscation imposed upon them swept into the public coffers a great treasure, most of which had been acquired by fraud and extortion. Such of the relatives of the vizier as had rendered themselves especially offensive to their persecutor were strangled. Others managed to eke out a wretched subsistence by the most menial occupations, and even by beggary. The venerable Moshafi, after suffering for years every humiliation that could be imposed by the ingenuity of hatred and the insolence of power, perished in some unknown way by violence, and his body was carried to the grave with but little more ceremony than usually attended the interment of a pauper.

While these events were transpiring, a formidable conspiracy for the assassination of the Khalif and the promotion of one of his cousins, Abd-al-Rahman-Ibn-Obeydallah, to the royal dignity, was maturing in the capital. The great majority of the literary men,—the former companions and instructors of Ibn-abi-Amir,—with officials who had viewed his elevation with unconcealed envy and hatred, stimulated by mediocrity and conscious incompetence, were the promoters of the enterprise. The dangerous position of leader was assumed by the eunuch Djaudar, who was anxious to avenge his disgrace, to retrieve his fortunes, and to restore the failing credit of his caste. There was scarcely a kadi, a jurist, a poet of the court, or a professor of the University who was not cognizant of the plot. The faquis and the theologians, who considered the orthodoxy of Ibn-abi-Amir as more than doubtful, were concerned in it to a man. The prefect, Ziyad-Ibn-Aflah, who had succeeded Ibn-abi-Amir in the control of the municipal affairs of Cordova, promised his co-operation, and agreed to place the armed force under his command at the disposal of the conspirators. It was decided that Djaudar should put the Khalif to death. The day for action arrived; the palace was designedly abandoned by the police; and Djaudar obtained without suspicion an audience with Hischem. But, either through awkwardness or irresolution, the blow aimed at the heart of the Khalif fell short; the assassin was overpowered; and the prefect, having been summoned to the palace and seeing that all was lost, endeavored to remove suspicion from himself by the arrest and zealous prosecution of his accomplices. The leading conspirators were crucified, and punishments of greater or less severity were inflicted upon the others. The double traitor, Ziyad-Ibn-Aflah, with brazen effrontery, assisted at the trial and voted for the condemnation of his former associates.

Aware that his liberal views on the subject of religion, and the philosophical studies with which he frequently occupied his leisure, had created against him a feeling which was largely responsible for the recent conspiracy, and which might eventually be productive of more serious disorders, Ibn-abi-Amir determined to make some concessions to the prejudices of the theologians. The broad toleration of the two former reigns, when skepticism was fashionable and the cultivation of philosophy general and popular, had been followed by a reaction. The influence of the Malikites had been re-established, and it was easy for these fanatics to excite popular odium against any one suspected of entertaining heretical opinions. When the obnoxious individual filled a post of eminence in the state, a hint from a faqui might be equivalent to a sentence of death. The native shrewdness of Ibn-abi-Amir suggested a means of counteracting this danger. Having carefully selected the theologians of the capital most notorious for their intolerance, he invited them to the palace and solemnly informed them that the presence of the philosophical and scientific works in the library of Al-Hakem was a great burden upon his conscience, and requested their assistance in purging the collection of books treating of subjects whose study was not sanctioned by the Koran. Conducted into the immense library whose shelves were covered with the literary treasures of Europe and Asia, the bigoted enemies of learning entered upon their task with alacrity. The collection was examined in detail, and the works known or suspected to be tainted with heterodox sentiments were consigned to the flames. The distinguished penitent improved the occasion to offer an edifying exhibition of zeal by personally assisting in the destruction of the proscribed volumes.

History has failed to acquaint us with the magnitude of this loss. It must have been important, however, even if due allowance be made for the ignorance of the muftis and faquis, who had but slight knowledge of any save theological literature, and whose industry must have been sorely taxed by the laborious scrutiny of six hundred thousand volumes. Henceforth no one ventured to question the orthodoxy of the minister. He patronized with marked partiality all members of the religious profession; flattered their pride by his attention to their prosy discourses; won their affection by his liberality; elicited their praise by his denunciation of infidels. He demonstrated that the skill of his youth had not departed from him by the production of a beautiful copy of the Koran, written entirely by his own hand, which he never suffered to leave his person, and constantly perused in public with such apparent unction that all who beheld him were greatly impressed with this remarkable display of devotion.

Moshafi having been disposed of, it was now the turn of Ghalib. The powerful interest of Ibn-abi-Amir with the Sultana and the nobles which had raised him to the rank of hajib placed him on a political equality with his father-in-law. The latter was constantly at variance with his associate, whom he considered as his inferior, but whose ascendency in the conduct of the administration he was nevertheless forced to acknowledge. The annoyance Ibn-abi-Amir suffered from these disputes, and the fact that Ghalib was now the sole obstacle interposed between his ambition and the practical sovereignty of the empire, led him to begin without delay the scheme which he had devised for the overthrow of his colleague. The first, and indeed the indispensable, requisite of success was the control of the army. The power of the audacious minister, which was dreaded by every civil functionary of the khalifate, virtually ended at the outposts of the nearest garrison. The soldiery knew him only as a kadi; and while he had behaved with credit in more than one engagement, and had established a name for generosity, his military reputation and popularity had so far proved to be neither brilliant nor enduring. The attachment of the soldiers centred in Ghalib. They had shared together the hardships and the glory of many arduous campaigns. Their interests had long been identical, and any demonstration involving the honor or the safety of the general would have been resisted by the entire military force of the monarchy. The army consisted mainly of Arabs, the Berbers enlisted by Abd-al-Rahman III. having been gradually disbanded and natives of the Peninsula substituted for them under Al-Hakem. The partiality of their commander had indulged them in frequent and serious infractions of discipline. Their equipment was not uniform, and was often defective. The awkwardness of the horsemen was the jest of foreigners. In many respects the organization of the various corps did not differ from that of a disorderly and inefficient militia.

The experience acquired by Ibn-abi-Amir during his sojourn in Africa had convinced him of the excellence of the Mauritanian cavalry, whose reputation indeed dated from the First Punic War. The Spanish posts in that country had been abandoned, with the exception of Ceuta, and the protectorate formerly exercised by the khalif removed. In consequence of this measure, and there being no central power to restrain the Berbers, the entire region became at once a prey to anarchy. At the time the minister was planning a thorough reorganization of the army, intelligence was conveyed to him by the governor of Ceuta that a considerable detachment of Berbers, who had been worsted in a recent battle and were absolutely impoverished, had appealed to him for protection, which he had temporarily afforded them. The pleasure of the government was requested respecting the final disposition of these refugees. The order was immediately sent to propose to them enlistment in the army of the khalifate. The offer was accepted without hesitation, and the inhabitants of Algeziras beheld with consternation and disgust the disembarkation of a horde of ferocious warriors clothed in rags and mounted on horses whose skeleton forms seemed hardly capable of sustaining even the weight of their emaciated riders. But the sagacious hajib, who recognized in these uncouth barbarians the formidable instruments of a soaring ambition, entertained his new protégés with royal hospitality. The finest arms and horses were furnished them. Their boundless rapacity was gratified by every concession that insolence could demand or prodigality afford. The famished bandit, who had lately roamed the desert without shelter, now revelled in the luxuries of a palace. The servile dependent who a few months before had trembled at the voice of some vagabond sheik was now the master of a hundred slaves. The news of this astonishing good fortune was speedily transmitted to Africa. Thousands of volunteers applied for admission to the service of so generous a patron. The object of Ibn-abi-Amir was accomplished, and with secret exultation he saw placed at his absolute disposal a powerful body of troops, whose allegiance was due to himself alone, who knew and cared nothing for patriotic sentiment, and who were practically isolated from the existing military system. His efforts, however, were not confined to the enlistment of Berber mercenaries. From the opposite quarter of the compass, from a region and a nation where one would least suspect a disposition to serve under the banners of Islam, his army received important accessions. It does not appear that before the reign of Hischem any systematic attempt was made to attract to the service of the khalifate the Christians of the North, whose hostility to their neighbors was hereditary and instinctive, dictated as well by motives of patriotism as by the prejudices and the distorted maxims of their religion. The civil wars of fifty years; the uncertain allegiance claimed by a succession of known usurpers and legal sovereigns of suspicious title; the arrogance of the priesthood, which claimed ascendency over the crown, had destroyed the unity and absorbed the limited pecuniary resources of the kingdoms of Northern Spain. The population had increased, while the means of subsistence had been constantly diminishing. The insecurity of property discouraged agriculture in a land where untiring industry was at all times indispensable to procure the most common necessaries of life. The country was overrun by armed men, who did not hesitate, when occasion demanded, to rudely strip the unfortunate peasant of the hard-earned fruits of his labor. The lofty stature and extraordinary strength of these mountaineers, their unequalled powers of endurance, their bravery and their steadiness in battle, rendered them most desirable recruits. The emissaries of Ibn-abi-Amir experienced no difficulty in convincing them of the benefits they would receive by a change of masters. A considerable detachment repaired to Cordova and entered the army of the Khalif. The minister treated them with even greater indulgence than he had shown to the Africans. They received double pay. They were lodged in palatial quarters. They were magnificently armed and mounted, and provided with every attainable comfort and luxury. The partiality of the hajib for these favorite mercenaries sometimes even caused him to depart from the equity which had heretofore characterized his judicial conduct. In the controversies he was called upon, from time to time, to settle between his Moslem subjects and his Christian guards, his decisions were almost invariably rendered in favor of the latter. The effects of this politic course soon became apparent. The Castilians and Navarrese, like the Berbers, volunteered in larger numbers than could be accommodated. Only picked men were accepted by the recruiting officers; and a corps was formed which, for physical strength, perfection of armament, and excellence of discipline, had not its counterpart in Europe.

While Ibn-abi-Amir was thus, day by day, tightening his grasp upon the civil and military departments of the government, he was, at the same time, gradually undermining the support and weakening the power of his rival. The custom of tribal organization, inherited from the pre-Islamic era, still prevailed in the army. Members of the same tribe, commanded by chiefs of their own kindred, were mustered into the service together. In numerous instances, by intermarriage with individuals of other races, the chain of relationship had been broken. Clannish prejudice had, however, survived the record of genealogies, for many were found enrolled among the various tribes who evidently had not the remotest claim to such association. The policy of Ibn-abi-Amir was directed to the final abrogation of these ancient distinctions. The Arabs were distributed among the strongest divisions of the Berber and Christian mercenaries. By this means their identity was lost amidst a crowd of foreigners ignorant alike of their customs, their traditions, and, not infrequently, of their language. The favorite troops of Ghalib were, by this means, quietly and expeditiously scattered beyond the hope of reorganization. The discipline of the army was sedulously improved. Officers were appointed to command whose first qualification was devotion to the personal interests of the hajib, and whose second was based upon their experience in war and their reputation for courage. Military regulations were enforced with such severity that even the accidental exposure of a sword during parade was punished with death.

Having to his entire satisfaction obtained control of the army, Ibn-abi-Amir now proposed to himself the audacious project of placing and retaining the youthful Khalif in a condition of perpetual tutelage. His mother, over whom the minister still retained his ascendency, strange to relate, willingly lent her aid to the accomplishment of this nefarious design. The talents of the young prince, at that time about fifteen years old, are stated by contemporaneous writers to have been far above mediocrity. Under favorable circumstances, it is possible that he might have become a ruler not inferior to the most distinguished of his line. But, unhappily, every effort was exerted to dwarf his intellect and impair his physical powers. He was kept in strict seclusion in the palace of Medina-al-Zahrâ. His teachers were removed, and his education systematically neglected. It was constantly inculcated upon him that his chief duties as a monarch were the diligent perusal of the Koran and the distribution of alms. His body was emaciated, and his intellectual faculties weakened, by the frequent and protracted fasts which his religious advisers enjoined. These regulations, sufficiently injurious to both the body and the mind of youth, were not to be compared in their destructive effects with the sensual excesses encouraged by the temptations of the harem. In its retired and mysterious apartments everything was favorable to the precocious development of the passions. Crowds of beautiful slaves constantly surrounded him, and performed for his amusement the licentious dances of the East. The rarest perfumes diffused their intoxicating odors through the dimly-lighted apartments. Here, safe from the frowning glances of faqui and santon, could be quaffed, to the point of repletion and insensibility, the delicious wines of Spain. The attendants received peremptory instructions to lose no opportunity of corrupting and brutalizing their helpless charge. In consequence, the unfortunate Hischem was degraded by the habitual practice of the most revolting vices. His prematurely failing powers were at first stimulated by aphrodisiacs. His virility was afterwards permanently impaired by drugs administered for that purpose by eunuchs in the pay of the minister. With the advance of the prince in years, the conditions and diversions of childhood remained unchanged. The same toys amused his idle moments. The same devotional exercises were daily enforced by his spiritual guides. His world was bounded by the walls of the palace, within which no one unauthorized by the hajib could enter. Alert and observant spies reported his most trivial speeches, his most puerile actions. It was gravely suggested to him that the burden of public affairs was too weighty for his shoulders; that the favor of God—the object of every true Mussulman—was most easily secured by devotional exercises; and that the administration of the government should be confided to others who could assume the responsibilities, without compromising the future hopes, of the Commander of the Faithful. The Khalif’s voluntary acceptance of these propositions—and especially of the last one—was proclaimed far and wide by the omnipresent agents of the hajib. But the latter, despite his apparent assurance, knew only too well the desperate game he was playing. He was familiar with the uncertainty of popular favor and the prodigious energy suddenly developed by revolutions. His secret enemies, many of them able and determined men, swarmed alike in the literary professions and among the populace of the capital. The isolation of the Khalif was complete, but the treachery of a sentinel or the venality of a slave might, at any time, mature a conspiracy or effect the liberation of the royal prisoner. In either of these contingencies, the life of the minister would not be worth a moment’s purchase were he found within the walls of Medina-al-Zahrâ. Impressed with this fact, he secured a large estate east of Cordova, and erected there a residence which united the twofold advantage of castle and palace, and to which he gave the name of Zahira. The place was of great strength, and could accommodate a numerous garrison. When it was completed, Ibn-abi-Amir removed there all the public records, and in its halls were henceforth framed the edicts which, issued in the Khalif’s name, gave law to the people of the Peninsula. Buildings were erected for the convenience of the great officials of the government, and Zahira soon acquired the inhabitants and assumed the appearance of a city. The employees of the court, the personal adherents of the minister, and the herd of parasites who infested the purlieus of every palace, together with a multitude of tradesmen and artificers, took up their residence in the neighborhood; and an idea may be formed of the extent of Zahira when it is remembered that, although the residence of Ibn-abi-Amir was twelve miles from Cordova, the gardens of its environs reached to the banks of the Guadalquivir immediately opposite the capital, of which it, in fact, formed one of the most attractive suburbs.

Of this villa a story is told by the Arab historians which illustrates at once the wealth, the profusion, and the love of ostentation so prominent in the character of the Oriental. With a view of impressing the envoys of the King of Navarre with his power and opulence, the hajib ordered a great lake in the gardens of Zahira to be planted with water-lilies. Into each of the flowers, during the night, he caused to be placed a gold or silver coin, large numbers of which he had ordered struck especially for that purpose. The weight of the precious metals required was two hundred pounds. At the audience, which took place at sunrise, in addition to the grand civil and military display usual on such occasions, a body of eunuchs, a thousand in number and equally divided, stood on each side of the throne. All were dressed in white silk. The robes of five hundred were embroidered with gold, those of the others with silver. Sashes of gold or silver tissue encircled their waists, and each carried a gold or silver tray. As the first rays of the sun lighted up the splendors of the scene, the eunuchs moved forward with military precision, gathered the lilies, and emptied their precious contents at the feet of their master in a great heap of glittering coin. The effect of this exhibition upon the simple mountaineers of Navarre may be imagined. The reputation of the hajib’s resources, already great, was magnified a hundred-fold. Mystified by the apparent prodigy, the ambassadors reported to their king that even the earth and the water surrendered their hidden treasures at the command of the omnipotent Mohammedan ruler.

While the astute and politic Ibn-abi-Amir was perfecting his arrangements to secure absolute control of the empire, he treated Ghalib with far more than ordinary consideration. He exhibited towards him, on all occasions, the most distinguished courtesy. He deferred to his opinion on questions of minor importance. He humbly solicited his advice when satisfied that its acceptance would not interfere with the accomplishment of his plans. But the shrewd old soldier was not to be imposed upon by those flattering evidences of esteem and attachment. Intensely loyal to the House of Ommeyah, he had seen with disgust and apprehension the restraint of the Khalif and the usurpation of his prerogatives. He had viewed with scarcely less dismay the inordinate ambition of his colleague and the predominance to which he had attained.

While he did not at first perceive the ultimate effect of the reorganization of the military service, the disbanding and transfer to distant and widely separated provinces of those divisions most attached to his person, as well as the incorporation of his favorites into the corps of foreign mercenaries, finally opened his eyes to the consequences of the policy of his son-in-law. But it was then too late. The mischief had already been accomplished. The indignation of the general at first found vent in ineffectual reproaches. At length, during an expedition into the enemy’s country, while the two ministers were reconnoitering from the summit of a tower, after a violent quarrel Ghalib drew his sword and attacked his associate. The latter, taken by surprise, saw no other way to avoid instant death but by precipitating himself from the battlements. His flowing robes caught on a projection and saved his life. The incensed rivals separated with threats of mutual defiance; war was at once declared between them; and the diminished forces of Ghalib were strengthened by a considerable number of horsemen furnished by the King of Leon. The operations of the campaign were at first indecisive, but Ghalib, having exposed himself recklessly in an engagement, was killed; his followers were seized with a panic, and the victory remained with his fortunate adversary.

Ibn-abi-Amir was now the sole master of the Khalifate of the West. By sheer force of character, by dauntless resolution, by tireless energy, he had realized his most cherished aspirations. Without friends or the important aid of family connections, he had obtained and had already long exercised a preponderating influence in the state. His adroitness and liberality had organized a numerous faction and a formidable army, both of which served his personal interests with unswerving loyalty. The nominal sovereign of the country was virtually his servant. The entire machinery of government, with its treasures, the appointments of its officers, the distribution of its rewards, the infliction of its punishments, the supervision of its civil policy, the conduct of its campaigns, was in his hands. Such was the exalted position attained by the former unknown and impecunious student of the University, who had managed to obtain an uncertain livelihood by writing petitions for applicants for royal favor, many of whom were now his official subordinates. Through the changes of many eventful years, amidst the perils, the trials, the excitements, the triumphs, that attended his ascent to greatness, he had never forgotten the scene in the garden, where, encouraged by the hilarity of his companions, he had expressed what they considered chimerical ideas of future power and distinction. Soon after the death of Ghalib had left him free to indulge his arbitrary inclinations, he caused his four collegiate acquaintances, who had participated in the festivities of that now memorable occasion, to be brought before him. Three received from the hands of the minister himself the commissions conferring those employments which they had in merriment solicited; the fourth, after having been sternly reprimanded for the unprovoked insult he had inflicted in return for a proffered honor, was deprived of all his possessions, and led forth by slaves to perform the public and degrading penance which he himself had voluntarily prescribed.

The restraints imposed upon Hischem were now increased in severity. Formerly he had, at rare intervals, been permitted to show himself to his subjects, but the jealousy of Ibn-abi-Amir could no longer tolerate this indulgence, and the Khalif was henceforth condemned to absolute seclusion in the palace of Medina-al-Zahrâ. Even when he performed his devotions in public he was heavily veiled, and remained in the royal gallery until the last of the worshippers had left the mosque. He was not even permitted to enter the walls of his own capital, embellished with the wealth, and rendered illustrious by the renown, of a dynasty of great sovereigns who had been his kinsmen, whose name and titles he had inherited, but whose power he was destined never to enjoy. His name was mentioned in the khotba, or prayer, offered on Fridays in the mosques; it appeared on the coins side by side with that of the hajib, and was embroidered on the skirt of his robes; but these were the only surviving evidences of the existence and the authority of the last of the Ommeyades.

In the new and radical policy which Ibn-abi-Amir had inaugurated with respect to the army, he was far from being actuated by purely selfish motives. He understood thoroughly the inconstant and restless nature of the population which he ruled. Experience had repeatedly shown the perilous conditions arising from a protracted peace. The Koran enjoined perpetual war against the infidel. Such a crusade was popular with all classes,—with the theologians, whose religious animosities it gratified; with the merchants, whose trade it increased and whose coffers it replenished; with the nobility, to whom it opened an avenue to military distinction; with the soldiery, who were attracted by the prospect of unlimited plunder. Every year, from the date of his association with Ghalib in the administration, Ibn-abi-Amir had proclaimed the Djihad, and had himself taken part in two expeditions against the Christians. To this policy, whose expediency was indisputable, he publicly declared his intention to adhere. The people heard the announcement with exultation. The faquis applauded the piety of the hajib with a fervor which they scarcely vouchsafed to the deeds of the saints who filled the Moslem calendar. The constant employment of a large number of troops in hostile operations was a substantial guaranty against revolution. With this potent safeguard, the dangers of sedition were no longer to be apprehended. The passions and the energy of the nation were to be expended in a war beyond the borders of the monarchy. But still another consideration influenced the mind of the great statesman. He was zealously solicitous for the honor, profoundly ambitious for the glory, of his country. He desired to extend her frontiers; to recover the territory that had been conquered from or basely yielded by her sovereigns, as well as to chastise her blaspheming enemies.

Of the greater number of the fifty-two campaigns directed by Ibn-abi-Amir, the chroniclers of the time have left us no record. Many of them, doubtless, were mere marauding expeditions; but all were uniformly and signally successful. Not the slightest reverse dimmed the lustre of a single triumph. With each year the limits of the Christian kingdoms became more and more contracted, until they barely reached the southern slopes of the mountains. Beyond, stretching away to the Moslem border, was a scene of desolation, where once waving crops and verdant pastures met the eye. The presence of an occasional pile of blackened ruins was the only indication that the country had ever been inhabited. So complete was this devastation that the plains of Leon and Castile have not yet recovered from its effects. The forests then cut down have never been replanted. The curse of sterility, and the freezing winds that sweep over this cheerless region, seem to discourage the hope that it will ever regain its former productiveness. The incessant march of the Moorish armies for a quarter of a century obliterated every sign of animal and vegetable life.

The ire of Ibn-abi-Amir was aroused by the reflection that the King of Leon, despite the admonitions he had received, had dared to assist his rival Moshafi, and, bent on revenge, he made preparations for the most important expedition which had under his command ever invaded the Christian territory. The strong city of Zamora, defended by seven mighty walls and seven moats, was taken by storm. Four thousand of the enemy were butchered, and as many more led into captivity. A thousand settlements, surrounded by evidences of the thrift of an industrious peasantry, were given to the flames. A considerable number of monasteries and convents were destroyed, and their inmates delivered to the Berbers to be insulted and tortured with every device of ruthless barbarity. Realizing their common danger, the Kings of Leon and Navarre formed a defensive alliance with the Count of Castile, and ventured to resist the progress of the Moslems. The hostile armies met at Rueda, not far from Simancas. A great battle took place; the Christians were completely routed, and victors and vanquished entered Simancas together. No quarter was shown by the infuriated Saracens. Every Christian who fell into their power was put to the sword. Winter was at hand, but Ibn-abi-Amir, who understood the necessity of following up a victory, without heeding cold or tempest, moved on Leon. The city, reduced to extremity, was about to yield, when the intolerable hardships of the season, which was one of unusual severity, compelled a retreat.