History of the Moorish Empire in Europe, Vol. 2 (of 3)

From the earliest period mentioned in history, as has been remarked in a previous chapter, the spirit of the various tribes inhabiting the great continent of Africa has been constantly hostile to human progress. The ignorance, cruelty, and depravity of those nations whose territory did not touch the shores of the Mediterranean have always seemed impregnable to the beneficent and ordinarily irresistible influences of civilization. It is true that the northern extremity of that continent has been the seat of powerful empires, of great cities, of rich and enterprising centres of commercial activity. But this superior culture, confined to a narrow strip whose southern boundary was only a few days’ journey from the coast, was without exception exotic. The origin of the Egyptians, lost in the depths of a remote and unknown antiquity, has never been conclusively established. But it is almost certain that it was not African. The ethnical peculiarities which formerly distinguished, and are still noticeable in, the inhabitants of the Valley of the Nile had nothing in common with the physical and mental characteristics of surrounding nations. The rigid seclusion that, as a principle of national policy, prevailed in ancient Egypt from time immemorial sufficiently precludes the existence of extraneous influence. Subsequently, under the enlightened empire of the Ptolemies, while the form of government and the religious ceremonial of ancient times were preserved, the traditions of the schools and the social atmosphere which surrounded the splendid court of Alexandria were entirely Grecian. Carthage was a Phœnician colony. The instincts of its citizens, their energy, their duplicity, their luxury, their vices, their political organization, their maritime enterprise, their architecture, and their gods were Tyrian, and consequently Asiatic. The prosperity enjoyed by the Latin colonies established after the Punic Wars, when the countries situated on the southern shores of the Mediterranean shared with Egypt the burden of providing sustenance for the slothful and turbulent populace of Italy, was due to the example, the policy, the institutions of Rome. The empire of the Edrisites, the magnificence of Fez and Kairoan, the wonderful cultivation of the Desert, the subjugation and control of the fierce tribesmen of the Atlas, were the work of princes of Arab blood. In all these glories of commerce, art, and opulence the Africans had no share. They served in the armies of the conqueror, but without loyalty, honor, or gratitude. Their insubordination wrought far greater injury to the cause of good government than their efforts promoted its advancement. They zealously preserved their malign and destructive instincts in the midst of the most refined and intellectual society of the age. Incapable of profiting by the civilization by which they were surrounded, their only aim seemed to be the obliteration of those evidences of mental superiority which they could neither appreciate nor enjoy. Nor have the benevolent and humanizing influences of the nineteenth century been able to remove the incorrigible barbarism of the African. The tribes of the Sahara are no further advanced in the arts of peace than when they yielded a sullen and reluctant obedience to the military genius of Musa. The lives of well-meaning sentimentalists have been vainly sacrificed to ameliorate the debased condition of the Negro. Even with the example of the most polished nations of modern times before him, the advantages of education, rare opportunities for the accumulation of wealth, intimacy with the learned, participation in government, social privileges—all these blessings have served only to confirm and emphasize the inherent and irredeemable stupidity, malice, and bestiality of his nature,—characteristics transmitted by a savage, perhaps by a simian ancestry. Association with the Romans—degenerate as they had become since the glorious days of the Republic and the Empire—aroused in the minds of the Goth and the Vandal aspirations to, at least in some degree, imitate that excellence which made their own deficiencies the more conspicuous. They gradually discarded their savage customs. They adopted the salutary institutions of the vanquished. They emulated—often with little success, but with the most praiseworthy intentions—the heroic virtues of antiquity. By this means the immortal genius of Roman civilization in a measure survived, to exert its refining power upon subsequent ages. Not so, however, with the African. His proximity to and intercourse with the highly cultured nations of Europe produced no improvement in his domestic life, no stimulation of his intellectual faculties, no mitigation of his brutal and ferocious nature. He was the principal means by which the Ommeyade empire was both founded and annihilated. His native rudeness and repugnance to discipline were manifested even before the termination of the Conquest. From the hordes of the Atlas and the Sahara were recruited the ruthless soldiery by whom the disturbances that distracted the emirate were perpetuated. They formed an important but treacherous contingent of the armies of the khalifate. While nominally adherents of the Mohammedan faith, they continued to observe those idolatrous ceremonies which had provoked the maledictions of the Prophet. Obedience to the sovereign was always subordinated to reverence for the chieftain. They maintained under the most adverse circumstances the primitive traditions of their race. Their camp was the daily scene of savage rites, of the practice of divination, witchcraft, sorcery, and magic. In their civil organization, the patriarchal simplicity of the Desert prevailed, their military evolutions were the clamorous and irregular demonstrations of brave but undisciplined barbarians. Their overpowering impulse was that of indiscriminating destruction. They viewed with stolid indifference the incomparable monuments of Saracen culture. The most exquisite works of art, in whose fabrication was exhausted the skill of the goldsmith and the enameler, were broken and melted for the sake of the precious metals they contained. The Berber was the very embodiment of cruelty, perfidy, disorganization, and ruin. In comparison with his boundless capacity for mischief, all the destructive agencies exerted by the hostile races composing the population of the Western Khalifate were insignificant. The inexhaustible numbers of the tribes of Numidia and Mauritania, whence were drawn alike the instruments of regal tyranny and of servile revolution, their prowess, their indomitable ferocity, their impetuous ardor, the persistence of their Pagan ideas and their social customs, rendered them most formidable impediments of civilization. To the incessant immigration from Africa, to the enrolment of Berber mercenaries in the armies of Mohammedan Spain, to the impolitic appeals for aid to the semi-barbarian princes of Al-Maghreb, are to be attributed far more than to the rivalry of Arab tribes or to the inherent defects of the Moslem constitution—serious as these undoubtedly were—the succession of disasters which overtook the empire of the Ommeyades, and the unspeakable crimes which stain the Moorish annals of the eleventh century, whose deplorable consequences were felt to the remotest corners of the Peninsula.

I have been led to the consideration of the topic discussed in the preceding pages by reason of the prominent part assumed by the African tribes during the closing years of the Moslem domination in Spain. While an apparent digression, it is in fact inseparable from a complete account of the events transpiring in the dominions once embraced by the khalifate of Cordova. The relations of Africa and Mussulman Europe had long been intimate. The jealousies of ambition and sovereignty had, except in infrequent and isolated cases, been subordinated to the offices of mutual kindness and friendship. No serious acts of hostility had as yet been permitted to interrupt the cordial intercourse which—facilitated by the short distance separating the two continents—existed between nations acknowledging, at least in form, the same religion and governed by similar laws. Wealthy traders maintained commercial establishments at the same time in Almeria and Kairoan. The sons of sheiks of the Desert rose to high commands under the famous princes of the House of Ommeyah. The negro slaves of the Soudan were repeatedly chosen to guard the sacred person of the monarch. The erudition of the philosophers of Cordova had been exhibited to the astonishment, if not to the approbation, of the fanatical sectaries of Fez. Powerful princes of Mauritania had more than once rendered homage and paid tribute to the rulers of the mighty Khalifate of the West. They had submitted with a feeling of pride to the supremacy of one of the most renowned of those rulers, for they remembered that he was popularly reputed to be of the same origin and of kindred blood. During the administration of Al-Mansur, no African prince would have cherished the apparently chimerical hope that his dynasty was destined to influence, in a decisive way, the future of the Peninsula. The death of that great commander, who left no worthy successor, encouraged the aspirations of every ambitious chieftain to plunge the country into anarchy, a condition from which he might possibly emerge with the lion’s share of power and plunder. In less than forty years the Berbers obtained control of the most valuable portion of the rich inheritance of the Moslems of Spain; in less than a century and a half the magnificent empire of the Ommeyades, whose civilization had been the marvel of the age, its cities sacked and demolished, its fertile fields laid waste, its commerce annihilated, its industrious and thriving population massacred or condemned to painful servitude, had descended, from the exalted rank of a monarchy whose name was mentioned with respect and fear by the most distant and inaccessible nations, to the humiliating position of a dependency of the barbarous and illiterate sultans of Africa.

The jurisdiction of the self-designated Khalif Suleyman, who, as the head of the Berber faction, had acquired an appearance of regal authority by a frightful expenditure of blood, was confined to a circumscribed extent of territory including only five populous cities, of which Cordova, whose possession implied the prestige and power of an imperial title, was, of course, the most important. At the first appearance of national discord consequent on the dismemberment of the khalifate, the military commanders who occupied the strongest fortresses proclaimed their neutrality or independence. The Eastern provinces of the Peninsula, whose territory had hitherto escaped the calamities which had so seriously afflicted the less fortunate regions of the West, preserved, by the freedom of their ports, the enterprise of their merchants, and the unmolested industry of their laborers, a prosperity of diminished extent and uncertain duration, but one which contrasted vividly with the miserable condition of the once flourishing centres of trade and agriculture, in happier days the pride of beautiful Andalusia. Here the Slave officers appointed under the nominal authority of the royal puppet, Hischem II., held their courts and displayed on a limited theatre all the luxurious magnificence and tyrannical caprices of Asiatic despotism. In the North, where the adherents of the Amirides abounded, the Berber princes of Saragossa and Toledo maintained an appearance of barbaric pomp and martial rivalry. From the latter, who, like the Slaves, had asserted their independence, Suleyman, although his troops were allied to their subjects by the closest bonds of nationality and relationship, could expect no support. He was therefore compelled to rely entirely upon his army, composed of soldiers of fortune, whose fidelity was wholly dependent on the willingness of their general to indulge their mutinous instincts and their love of rapine. Of these mercenaries, who, half Pagan and half Christian, served with singular inconsistency under the standard of a Moslem prince against sectaries of his own religion, the bitter enemies of both, the Berbers were the controlling element. They were regarded by the mass of the population of Moorish Spain, and especially by the Arabs of noble blood, with peculiar execration. The fact that under the very shadow of the noble mosques of the Andalusian capital they habitually practised heathen rites denounced by the Koran and abhorred by every Mussulman was notorious. The rich and flexible idiom of the Peninsula, the pride of the Arab, the language spoken by the Prophet, the medium by which the learning of the scholars of the Moslem world had been communicated and preserved, was wholly unknown to them. Their uncouth manners and insolent bearing excited the disgust of a people proverbial for their native refinement and dignified courtesy. Every city, every hamlet, every plantation, bore ineffaceable marks of the blind ferocity of these detested foreigners. They had sacked the splendid metropolis of the West. They had transformed the unrivalled palace and suburb of Medina-al-Zahrâ into a heap of blackened ruins. Their violence had made of the most fertile portions of Andalusia an uninhabited and gloomy solitude. The towns swarmed with Berber robbers, who pursued their nefarious calling almost without hinderance; the country was unsafe on account of the organized bands of Berber outlaws that infested the highways. Crime of every description enjoyed immunity through the corrupt partnership of its perpetrators with the authorities, who greedily shared their booty. The confiscated spoils of noble families that traced their ancestry to the Companions of the Prophet were flaunted with the shameless impudence of legalized brigandage and irresponsible power in the faces of their former owners now reduced to penury. The beautiful wives and daughters of the Arab aristocracy were dragged from their homes to pine in the harems of brutal and half-savage Berber chieftains. The African prejudice against learning had caused the extermination of the philosophers of Cordova,—a deed whose atrocity was aggravated by the fact that the victims were non-combatants, a class protected by the soldiery of every generous and self-respecting nation. Not without cause did the poet lament that the wrath of Allah had unchained a legion of demons to afflict with unspeakable misery the imperial cities adorned with the triumphs of the august line of the Ommeyades.

The sovereign of these oppressors, through the circumstances of his position, had become a cruel tyrant. By nature he was inclined to peace. When untrammelled by the baneful associations which had corrupted his mind, and through whose influence he had risen to power, he exhibited the disposition of a generous and enlightened ruler. He strictly observed the principles of humanity and justice. His decisions as a magistrate were characterized by a spirit of impartial equity. His temper was mild. He was a friend of letters, and disclosed in the poetic efforts attributed to him ability of no mean order. His greatest delight was in the familiar conversation of scholars, whose talents he appreciated and whose tastes he encouraged. He availed himself of every resource at his command to restore tranquillity and confidence in the communities terrorized by the excesses of his followers. It was only when the interests of the latter were directly involved that he remembered the instruments of his greatness, and sanctioned crimes that have left an indelible blot upon his name.

In spite of the pretensions of Suleyman and his occupation of the throne of the khalifs, the khotba, or public prayer, for Hischem II., whose death had not been established to the satisfaction of the people, was still, despite the entreaties and the protests of the usurper, recited in the Andalusian mosques. The corpse of the last of the Ommeyades had never been exhibited to the populace for identification. The presumption of his survival was in a measure confirmed by the strict seclusion in which he had passed his life. A generation of tutelage and imbecility had not entirely destroyed the prestige of that dynasty whose heroic achievements had reflected such lustre on the Moslem name. Pretenders to the supreme power, concealing their ambition under the specious pretext of liberating an imprisoned sovereign and avenging his wrongs, arose throughout the cities of the South. The ablest and most powerful of these was Khairan, governor of Almeria, an official who had stood high in the favor of Al-Mansur. Even in Africa the aspirations of enterprising generals were excited by the alluring prospect of a vacant throne, a prize which in the lottery of war might readily fall to a bold and fortunate soldier. The excellent qualities of Suleyman did not compensate in the eyes of the multitude for the unpopular methods by which he had risen to power. A leader was soon found who was disposed to profit by the universal discontent. Ali-Ibn-Hamud, at that time governor of Ceuta, had been one of the ablest officers in the armies of Al-Mansur and had served with distinction under that commander. He traced his genealogy to the family of Mohammed. His ancestors, long domiciled in Mauritania, were, however, regarded by the Berbers as of common nationality with themselves. His instincts and associations led him to identify himself with their cause, although he claimed descent from the son-in-law of the Prophet. An understanding was established by the emissaries of their countrymen between the ambitious general and certain conspirators in Spain. Gifted with the astuteness of his race, he easily deceived the superstitious Khairan with a false account of an interview with Hischem, during which he alleged that the latter had appointed him his successor, proclaimed himself the champion of the persecuted Khalif, and, enlisting the sympathies of the innumerable malcontents who viewed with favor any plan promising the overthrow of Suleyman, soon found himself at the head of a formidable revolution.

Ali had hardly landed in Andalusia, before Amir-Ibn-Fotuh, governor of Malaga, whose attachment to the family of the dethroned Khalif had been recently strengthened by the appropriation of a part of his dominions by the Berbers, surrendered that important fortress, and, Ali having formed a junction with Khairan at Almuñecar, the allied army pressed forward without delay to attack the capital. Zawi, the governor of Granada, whose authority and resources equalled those of Suleyman himself, as soon as intelligence of the invasion reached him, announced his adherence to the cause of the insurgents. The times had never been more auspicious for the enterprise of a pretender. By the populace, too often disposed to hold the leader responsible for the delinquencies of his faction, Suleyman was regarded as a fiend incarnate. The soldiers despised him because they mistook his disposition to lenity for an indication of cowardice. The supporters of the ancient dynasty and the dependents of the Amirides, who attributed to his agency the persecution of which they had been the victims, never mentioned his name without a curse. The palace and the Divan were as usual on such occasions centres of intrigue. The army swarmed with traitors. In Cordova itself the mob, which had enjoyed for centuries an unenviable reputation for inconstancy and turbulence, awaited with impatience the signal for revolt. The consequences of this political condition soon became evident. The detachments sent by Suleyman to check the insurgents were one after another put to flight. When the Prince himself appeared in the camp to take command in person, he was seized by his own troops and sent in chains to the enemy. A few days afterwards the wretched Suleyman received at the hands of the executioner, after the infliction of every insult, the last penalty of disaster and incapacity,—the usual fate of captive monarchs in that barbarous age. In spite of the diligent search instituted by the victorious generals, the missing Hischem could not be found, and, as previously related, although Suleyman had insisted that he was dead, the corpse exhumed as his and subjected to a superficial and insufficient identification was not accepted as genuine by those not interested in supporting a fraud, and the fate of the unfortunate son of Al-Hakem remains to this day an impenetrable mystery.

In compliance with an agreement in which he had taken advantage of the credulity of Khairan, Ali now assumed the royal insignia and authority, with the title of Al-Nassir-al-Din-Allah, and another usurper was invested with the uncertain and perilous dignity of nominal ruler of the dismembered khalifate.

Contrary to the expectations of his opponents, and to the infinite disgust of his partisans, who had counted upon indulgence in unbridled license, the beginning of the reign of Ali was marked by a display of moderation and justice for many years unknown to the unhappy people of Andalusia. Before his tribunal the distinctions of faction were no longer recognized, and the Spaniard, without regard to his political relations, received equal consideration with the African. The bandit propensities of the Berbers were mercilessly repressed. The fact that Ali had been reared among them, was connected with their race by ties of consanguinity, was familiar with no other tongue but theirs, and had been raised to the throne through their influence, afforded no security to the Berber malefactor. The slightest act of rapine was punished with instant death. An incident is related by the Arab historians which conveys a significant idea of this summary administration of justice. As the Khalif was once passing through a gate of the capital, he encountered a mounted Berber with a quantity of grapes on the saddle before him. The royal cavalcade was instantly halted, and the Prince demanded of the horseman: “Whence hast thou obtained those grapes?” “I seized them like a soldier,” was the insolent reply. At a signal from Ali, the culprit was at once dragged to the roadside and decapitated. His head was then fastened upon the grapes, and the horse, with its ghastly burden, preceded by a crier, was led through the principal streets of the city as an example of the fate to be expected by all whose lawless inclinations, confirmed by former impunity, tempted them to violate the rights of person and property. In the forms of legal procedure the new ruler discarded the habits of seclusion and mystery affected by the later Ommeyades, and returned to the ancient and patriarchal simplicity which had characterized from time immemorial the unceremonious judicial tribunals of the Orient. On certain appointed days, attended by a slender retinue and with scarcely any tokens of his exalted rank, he sat at the gate of the palace to receive the complaints and redress the grievances of his subjects. At the bar of this court no offender could hope for immunity through pride of lineage, amount of wealth, or important tribal affiliations. Justice was meted out equally to all. The executioner was constantly in attendance, and infliction of the penalty, whether by scourging, imprisonment, or death, followed closely upon the sentence. As the Berbers constituted the majority of the delinquents, they soon began to denounce their sovereign as a political apostate and an enemy of his race. This exhibition of judicial severity was followed by the most satisfactory results. The irresponsible infliction of unusual punishments was replaced by the regular process of law. The Berbers submitted sullenly but completely to the disagreeable but wholesome restraints of discipline. The citizen and the peasant could now, without serious molestation, pursue their ordinary employments. The streets became safe for pedestrians. The highways were purged of banditti. Commerce began to revive. The partiality of Ali for the Andalusians, who, as the more peaceable class of the population, were seldom arraigned before the magistrate to answer for violation of the laws, became daily more marked. Indeed, he had formed the commendable design of depriving his Berber subjects of the property they had acquired by the pillage of their neighbors, and of restoring to the latter the estates which had been confiscated without other warrant of authority than that conveyed by force during the lawless period which had followed the death of Al-Mansur. This plan was frustrated by the habitual inconstancy and ingratitude of the people, fomented by the discontent of a military leader, whose exaggerated estimate of his own abilities was in a direct proportion to his inordinate ambition.

For nearly two years Ali governed the states of his contracted kingdom with exemplary firmness and wisdom. But, while reluctantly acknowledging the benefits they enjoyed, the partisans of the House of Ommeyah could never forget the foreign origin and barbarian antecedents of the determined prince who had avenged their wrongs and tamed the ferocity of their savage oppressors. As for the Africans, they detested the ruler who owed his rank to their courage and treachery, and who repaid their devotion with a contumely and an impartial disregard of their claims which they did not hesitate to denounce as the most flagrant ingratitude. Thus the inflexible justice of Ali alienated his partisans, while the national prejudice against his race operated to his disadvantage in every other quarter. Aware of this feeling, Khairan, who felt aggrieved because he was not intrusted with a larger share in the government he had contributed to establish, organized a conspiracy to restore the Ommeyades to power. Al-Morthada, a great-grandson of Abd-al-Rahman III., was selected as the representative of the malcontents under the title of Abd-al-Rahman IV. The prestige investing the name of the illustrious family of the pretender, the hope of vengeance upon the Berbers, the prospect of revolution, so attractive to the Andalusian mind, brought many followers to his standard. Valencia declared for him. The governor of Saragossa espoused his cause and marched southward with a force of several thousand men. The services of Raymond, Count of Barcelona, were secured, and he appeared in the rebel camp at the head of a squadron of Christian knights sheathed in complete armor. The popularity of the enterprise enlisted the sympathy of the peasantry, always prone to insurrection. In Cordova the presence of the soldiery alone prevented an outbreak, and it was problematical for how long a time the garrison would be able to overawe the populace, even if their own fidelity remained unshaken. Indignant that his efforts for the restoration and maintenance of public order should meet with such a recompense, Ali renounced the statesmanlike policy he had hitherto pursued. The Berbers again reigned supreme in the capital. Once more the streets rang with the tumultuous din of outrage and riot, with the groans of murdered men, with the shrieks of violated women. The tribunals, which for many months had dispensed justice with rigid impartiality, now refused to entertain a complaint against the military tyrants whose passions, exasperated by restraint, raged with redoubled violence. An army of informers was maintained by the government, and eminent citizens were daily consigned to dungeons on the false testimony of the vilest of mankind. This spirit of espionage was so general that it is remarked by a writer, who himself witnessed these scenes, that “one-half of the inhabitants was constantly employed in watching the other half.” The possession of wealth was of itself a powerful incentive to an accusation of treason. A convenient and effective method of replenishing the treasury was devised by causing the arrest of the rich upon fabricated evidence and then restoring them to liberty after payment of an exorbitant ransom. When the friends of the victims came to escort them to their homes, their horses were seized and they were forced to return on foot. It was not unusual for the houses of the nobles to be robbed in open day by the African guards of the Khalif. The few remaining palaces erected by the Ommeyades were destroyed; the known adherents of that faction were persecuted with unrelenting severity, and every conceivable insult was visited upon those whose prejudices against the party in power were assumed to exist by reason of their literary tastes or their superior erudition. The mosques, which heretofore, either from superstitious fear or from motives of policy, had been exempt from forced contributions, were now subjected to the most vexatious extortion. Their ornaments were carried away. Their revenues were confiscated. The ministers of religion were taxed. Many of the finest temples of the capital were deserted or became the haunts of nocturnal marauders. Even the devout dared not assemble for the worship of God. The consciousness of the perfidious ingratitude displayed by his subjects so embittered the temper of the Khalif that he resolved upon the most extreme measures, and publicly announced his intention of razing to its foundation the city of Cordova. The accomplishment of this malignant design, which, in destroying the most splendid architectural monument of Moslem genius, would at the same time have inflicted an irreparable injury upon art and archæology, was fortunately frustrated by the assassination of the tyrant. Three of his most trusted slaves, animated by a desire to liberate their country from the evils from which it suffered, and, so far as can be determined, without the co-operation of others, killed Ali in the bath on the very day he was about to take the field against the enemy.

The murder of the usurper was far from producing the effect desired and expected by the revolutionists, who everywhere hailed it with the most extravagant demonstrations of rejoicing. The dreaded Africans still overawed the populace of the capital. The emissaries of Al-Morthada were unable to arouse the mob, in whose mind was still fresh the remembrance of the merciless vengeance of these barbarians. A council of chieftains was assembled, and the crown was offered to Kasim, the brother of Ali, at that time governor of Seville, who, a trusty lieutenant of Al-Mansur, had served with gallantry in many campaigns against the Christians.

While these events were taking place the cause of the Ommeyade party was declining. Its head, who had been proclaimed khalif under the name of Abd-al-Rahman IV., manifested too independent a spirit to please those who had expected to retain him in perpetual subjection. After the factitious enthusiasm of revolution had subsided, the ranks of the insurgents began to be seriously depleted by desertions. Recruits could not be enlisted for an enterprise which now offered the unattractive prospect of much fighting and privation and but little plunder. The governors of important towns held aloof, or withdrew from an alliance which they had never heartily indorsed. Even the ardor of the leaders was visibly cooled. Khairan himself, whose treasonable propensities were incorrigible, now agreed with Zawi, governor of Granada,—before which city the revolutionary army was encamped,—to abandon the Ommeyade pretender during the first engagement. The perfidious compact was fulfilled to the letter. The traitors deserted in the heat of battle, the faithful adherents of Al-Morthada were overpowered and cut off to a man, and that unfortunate prince, having escaped with difficulty from the field, was followed and put to death by the horsemen of Khairan.

With the death of Ali had disappeared the last impediment to the undisputed ascendency of the Berber faction. The people of Cordova, who had taken no active part in the recent disturbances, submitted with scarcely a murmur to the government of a sovereign who, though trained in camps, evinced little inclination for scenes of bloodshed. The persecution of Ali had effectually broken the spirit of the Andalusian nobility. The wealthy were impoverished. The philosophers, the theologians, the faquis,—whose hypocrisy served as a convenient cloak for their ambition,—had been either exterminated or driven into exile. Thus, the elements of successful resistance having been paralyzed or entirely eliminated, a rare opportunity was afforded for the restoration of order and prosperity. In the very first dispositions of his reign, Kasim displayed a tact and a magnanimity which would have done credit to the most enlightened monarch. He suppressed the violence which had hitherto been tolerated, if not sanctioned, by representatives of the law. He granted an amnesty to the vanquished. The treason of Khairan was pardoned. Eminent supporters of the ancient dynasty were raised to important and responsible commands. Strenuous efforts were made to heal the wounds caused by generations of civil war and to reconcile, at least in appearance, the political dissensions prevailing even among individuals of the same family, and which constantly distracted the peace of every community. This patriotic and conservative policy of Kasim had hardly commenced to restore public confidence, when a measure, adopted for his own security, once more awakened the animosity of the implacable enemies of civilization and order. Long familiarity with the inconstant attachments and treacherous character of the Berbers had rendered the Khalif unwilling to entrust his person to their keeping. They were therefore gradually removed from the palace and their places supplied by negro slaves purchased in the markets of Africa, whose habits of obedience were presumed to afford a better warrant for their fidelity than the offensive pretensions and proud independence of the desert tribes, confirmed for years by legal impunity and successful revolution. The disgrace of the royal guard was considered an unpardonable affront by every individual of the Berber nation. A plot was formed to bestow the khalifate on Yahya, a son of Ali, whose absence in Africa had alone prevented his succession to his father, and who responded with alacrity to the overtures of the Berber chieftains. Landing at Malaga, which city was under the jurisdiction of his brother Edris, and welcomed with the acclamations of the people, he occupied Cordova without encountering the slightest resistance. Kasim, having received intimations of the intended defection of his followers, left the capital at night, and, attended by five slaves on whom he could rely, withdrew to Seville. The pre-eminent unfitness of Yahya for his exalted position soon became apparent. He alienated the Berbers by refusing to restore the ancient privileges of plunder and extortion to which they considered themselves entitled by the right of conquest. Proud of his descent from the family of the Prophet, he constantly maintained a haughty demeanor towards the nobility, and disdained all intercourse with the people, whom he affected to regard as slaves. Notwithstanding this offensive assumption of superiority, he chose for his intimate associates men without standing or character, whose principal recommendation was their indulgence of his whims and their subserviency to his vices. The eminent qualifications for government derived from intellectual acquirements and military experience received no consideration at the hands of this vain and ignorant successor of the khalifs. Discontent soon spread throughout the court and the city. The Berbers importunately demanded a division of the public treasure. The slave-guards of Kasim, apprehensive for their safety, sought the presence and the forgiveness of their former monarch at Seville. Officers, who had signalized their abilities in the councils and the campaigns of a generation, abandoned with disgust the cares of government to the incompetent and low-born sycophants who swarmed around the throne. In no mosque of Andalusia was the khotba repeated in the name of Yahya; that expressive mark of sovereignty was still enjoyed by Kasim, or by some representative of the uncertain and fast-vanishing dignity of the royal race of the Ommeyades.

Thus restricted to the walls of Cordova, whose population regarded his conduct with unconcealed disfavor, Yahya soon began to appreciate the threatening character of the perils that environed him. Convinced of his inability to defend himself in case of attack, he retired to Malaga, accompanied by a retinue little superior in numbers to that with which his uncle had abandoned his capital but a few months before.

The return of Kasim was the signal for fresh conspiracies and renewed disorder. In the conflict of interests the two factions which had accomplished his expulsion were again arrayed against him, and the force of negro slaves, whose duplicity had so signally disappointed his expectations, constituted the sole and precarious bulwark of the throne. A report, perhaps well founded, gained credence in Cordova that another descendant of Abd-al-Rahman would soon lay claim to his hereditary and usurped prerogatives. When the rumor of this movement reached the court, Kasim adopted the most radical measures for the prevention of a new revolution. An indiscriminate proscription was inaugurated against the Ommeyades. The uncertainty of the candidate for regal honors, whose pretensions were to be exhibited for the approval of the people, stimulated the animosity and increased the vigilance of the authorities. The members of the proscribed dynasty fled precipitately from the capital. Of those arrested, many were summarily executed. Others were cast into filthy dungeons to perish slowly by disease and hunger. Princes bred in luxury were compelled to assume the most humble disguises and to adopt the most menial occupations to avoid arrest. The indefatigable search of the emissaries of the Khalif, aided by the venal malice of informers, caused the seizure of a considerable number of the obnoxious faction, who had found a temporary asylum in the villages and farm-houses of the surrounding country. These rigorous precautions failed, however, to intimidate the seditious and exasperated populace. An insurrection suddenly broke out. Oppressed by the tyranny of the government and the increasing license of the soldiery, the citizens, animated by irresistible fury, drove the Khalif, the negro slaves, and the Berbers headlong from the city. The capital was now invested by those who had recently been its masters. Though unprovided with facilities indispensable to the successful maintenance of a siege, they more than once managed to force their way inside the fortifications. The citizens, aware that no quarter was to be expected from their infuriated enemies, defended themselves with the valor of desperation. The gates were walled up with masonry. The ramparts were guarded with ceaseless vigilance. Women and children contributed their puny but encouraging assistance to the almost superhuman efforts of their husbands and fathers. Hunger, exposure, suffering, were endured by all with uncomplaining fortitude. At length the failure of provisions necessitated a compromise. Overtures were made by the besieged for a peaceful evacuation. The Berbers, certain of their prey and meditating a bloody revenge, refused to entertain any proposals from a foe reduced to extremity. Then a sally was made, and the besiegers, unable to withstand the impetuous attack of the Cordovans, sustained a crushing defeat. Their army was scattered; the negroes were slaughtered; the surviving Berbers betook themselves to Malaga, where they entered the service of Yahya; and Kasim, repulsed from the gates of Seville, in which city he had hoped once more to find security, made his way to Xeres, where he soon afterwards fell into the hands of his nephew, and was by his order strangled in prison.

Liberated from the detested presence of the Berbers after an interregnum of two months, the inhabitants of Cordova determined to exercise the right of election in the choice of a ruler, an ancient and integral but long suspended principle of their polity. A vast concourse was convoked in the spacious temple erected by Abd-al-Rahman I. The proceedings were conducted with every circumstance of pomp and solemnity. The presence of the surviving princes of the House of Ommeyah, of the descendants of families illustrious for centuries in the annals of the Peninsula, of nobles who traced their lineage beyond the Hegira, all arrayed in silken vestments embroidered with gold and silver, imparted an air of majesty and splendor to the scene. Thousands of the clients of the dynasty, whose fate had been so closely interwoven with that of the capital it had done so much to embellish, attended in the snowy robes which constituted the distinguishing badge of their party. The Mosque, which easily contained ten thousand people, was crowded to its utmost capacity. Three candidates—Abd-al-Rahman, brother of Mohammed Mahdi; Suleyman, son of Abd-al-Rahman IV.; and Mohammed-Ibn-al-Iraki—appeared to solicit the suffrages of the multitude. Of these, Suleyman, whose claims were urged by the viziers and by the most powerful nobles of the court, seemed so certain of success that, with ill-advised haste, he appeared in the assemblage clad in the costume reserved for royalty, while his adherents had prematurely caused the deed of investiture to be drawn up in his name. But the votes of the lower classes, with whom Abd-al-Rahman was the favorite, overwhelmed the aristocratic party of Suleyman, and, amidst the acclamations of his supporters, the fortunate candidate received the reluctant homage of his rivals, and was raised to the throne of his ancestors under the name of Abd-al-Rahman V.

The reign of the new Khalif lasted only forty-seven days. His elevation was displeasing to the old nobility. His orthodoxy was suspected. The irreverent speeches of his companions were heard with disgust by the theologians and the ministers of religion, who, perhaps not unjustly, thought that infidel and sacrilegious sentiments should not be encouraged in the presence of the Successor of the Prophet. The predilection of the young prince for the society of poets and scholars was a source of complaint to the populace, including many thousand unemployed mechanics and laborers, who had been impoverished by the unsettled condition of society, who had in vain solicited relief from each successive administration, and who, exasperated by repeated disappointments, were ready for any desperate undertaking. The habitual discontent of this numerous class was diligently encouraged by Mohammed, a degenerate grandson of the great Al-Nassir, who united the tastes of an aristocrat with the arts of a demagogue. By the mediation of Ibn-Imran, a noble who had been imprisoned for sedition and imprudently released, a combination of the two most antagonistic elements of Moslem society was accomplished; and disappointed ambition induced the haughty patrician to co-operate with the laborer and the slave who, with the jealousy born of degradation and poverty, had always regarded the members of the ancient Arab nobility as their natural and implacable enemies. When the conspiracy was matured, the guards, who had been corrupted, were withdrawn; the ministers quietly deserted their master; the revolutionists occupied the citadel; and Abd-al-Rahman, dragged ignominiously from an oven where he had hastily sought concealment, was put to death without ceremony or delay. The palace was then sacked by the mob; every individual related by blood or affinity to the Berbers was butchered; the seraglio of the late Khalif was apportioned among the leaders of the triumphant faction; and Mohammed, surrounded with the sanguinary evidences of victory and with the corpse of his predecessor lying before him, took his seat upon the throne.

The unnatural union of the patricians and the mob was dissolved as soon as its object had been attained. The former despised Mohammed, whom they had used solely as an instrument of vengeance, and at once begun to plot his overthrow. Ina few months another insurrection vacated the royal office. Mohammed escaped in a female disguise, only to be poisoned by one of his followers. The African, Yahya, who ruled the city of Malaga, was invited to assume the hazardous and unprofitable honor attaching to the empty title of khalif and the precarious sovereignty of Cordova. That prince, knowing by experience the character of those who tendered him a crown, and the desperation which must have prompted that act when the prejudice against his nationality was considered, while not unwilling to include Cordova in his dominions, yet hesitated to intrust his person to a people whose reputation for disorder and perfidy had gained for it such an infamous and wide-spread notoriety. He therefore delegated his authority to a Berber officer, who, to the consternation and disgust of the inhabitants, took up his abode in the Alcazar, with the title and the powers of viceroy.

The old feeling against the Africans was soon revived. A new conspiracy solicited the interference of Khairan, whose advancing years apparently offered no impediment to his participation in treasonable or revolutionary enterprises, and, with the aid of Modjehid, governor of Denia, he easily drove the Berbers from Cordova. But, as each party feared the other, no agreement could be effected concerning the succession, and the Cordovans were again left to extricate themselves as best they might from the difficulties which misgovernment and license had brought upon them. Once more an attempt was made to restore the Ommeyades, and the crown was offered to a brother of Abd-al-Rahman IV., called Hischem, a name of inauspicious associations, and fated to designate the last of that renowned dynasty of Moorish kings.

Already in the decline of life, of moderate abilities, and for years accustomed to the hardships of poverty and exile, Hischem III. possessed none of those qualities which inspire the respect of the noble and the learned or arouse the enthusiasm of the giddy and inconstant populace. His person was without dignity. His manners were those of a clown. His education had been neglected. Long familiarity with hunger had made him insensible to all enjoyments save those afforded by the indulgence of inordinate gluttony. Although he was welcomed by the inhabitants of Cordova with every demonstration of affection and rejoicing, he constantly maintained a reserved and stolid demeanor which as ill became his station and prospective greatness as did the simplicity of his attire and smallness of his retinue, neither of which was commensurate with the rank of even a prosperous citizen. Upon a people who had not forgotten the majesty of the ancient khalifate and the lavish display of regal magnificence exhibited by its princes, the plebeian appearance and insignificant equipage of this successor of the famous Abd-al-Rahman III. produced a feeling of disappointment not unmingled with contempt. Nor did the subsequent conduct of Hischem III. tend to remove the unfavorable impressions which his first appearance elicited. His voracity and his indolence made him a conspicuous target for the sarcastic wits of the capital. His practical surrender of the power and emoluments of his office to his prime minister, Hakem-Ibn-Said, whose former respectable but humble occupation of weaver seemed a doubtful qualification for important employments of state, provoked the envy and indignation of the arrogant and highly accomplished Arab nobility. The arbitrary measures devised by Hakem to replenish the treasury soon increased the unpopularity which his obscure origin and his unexpected exaltation inspired. He confiscated and sold at auction the jewels and other personal effects of the wealthy Amirides, who, belonging to the weakest political faction of Andalusia, could be oppressed and robbed with comparative impunity. These descendants of the renowned Al-Mansur were also forced to purchase for an enormous sum the metal collected from the royal palaces, whose destruction was popularly attributed to the ambition or the vengeance of the adherents of that family of daring adventurers. Amidst the maledictions and unavailing remonstrances of the clergy, the sanctity of the mosques was again profaned, and the treasures accumulated through the generosity of the pious compelled to contribute to the imperious necessities of the state. The diminution of their revenues exasperated the ministers of religion far more than the sacrilegious interference with their authority and the appropriation of the precious utensils of divine worship. But the theological element had long since, by its avarice, its hypocrisy, and its inclination to political disorder, forfeited the respect of the people of Cordova, where once the ravings of a popular faqui could awaken the apprehensions of the most powerful of sovereigns. While Hakem had little to fear from the hostility of this class, the conduct of the patricians caused him no little anxiety. All attempts to conciliate them proved ineffectual. They scorned his advances. They refused with disdain honorable and lucrative employments. The most magnificent presents failed to gain their friendship or even to secure their neutrality. Thus, repulsed by those whose support he had hoped to acquire, the minister was driven to the inferior orders for the selection of his generals and his magistrates. Every official now shared the odium attaching to his superior. The prejudices thus entertained by the most illustrious and influential order of the empire against the government could not long exist without consequences fatal to its stability.

To insure the continuance of his authority, the astute vizier, who no doubt drew a parallel between his own case and that of the talented and unscrupulous hajib of Hischem II., gratified with all the resources of boundless wealth and unlimited power the sensual caprices and epicurean tastes of his aged and dissolute sovereign. The provinces were ransacked for delicacies to tempt his palate. Such dainties as were unattainable in his own dominions were procured in foreign countries through the medium of enterprising merchants. The choicest wines of Spain, even then famous for the variety and excellence of its vintage, were consumed at the royal table in quantities which appalled the orthodox Mussulman, and struck with amazement the more liberal courtier, who was familiar with the scandalous excesses of preceding reigns. Professional singers and dancers, of exquisite beauty and rare accomplishments, solaced the leisure of the representative of a religion which pronounced their performances an abomination in the sight of God. The attendants of the Khalif were instructed to employ every artifice to retain the latter in seclusion; but the congenial character of the diversions with which the politic ingenuity of the minister daily amused him afforded little probability of his interference with the ambitious designs of one whose anticipation of the desires of his master, in his eyes, more than atoned for the evils resulting from the public misfortune.

But the character of Hischem, while weak, was far from despicable. At times, despite the blandishments of the inmates of his harem, he came forth from his retirement and mingled with the people. He dispensed with liberal and indiscriminating hand the alms whose bestowal is one of the cardinal virtues of the faith of Islam. He visited the hospitals and brought hope and consolation to the couch of the sick and the dying. His generosity relieved the necessities of impecunious pilgrims. The kindness and urbanity he manifested, even to the most degraded, acquired for him the respect and esteem of his subjects. Many a malefactor condemned to an inglorious death had reason to applaud his noble but often mistaken clemency. These estimable qualities, however, could not, in the eyes of the indignant aristocracy, compensate for the habitual neglect of public duty displayed by the Khalif, nor for his complacent resignation of the destinies of the empire into the hands of a low-born subordinate, whose creatures monopolized the highest employments and exacted the unwilling homage of cavaliers whose lineage antedated the Conquest by centuries. A number of nobles, whose influence had been secretly but effectively exerted during the recent disturbances, again met for consultation. The deposition of Hischem was resolved upon, and it was also determined that they themselves should hereafter be the sole depositaries of power. The method they pursued to accomplish their end affords a significant illustration of the low standard of public morals which at that time universally prevailed. It must be remembered that these men were no vulgar conspirators. Of the distinctions conferred by birth, education, political experience, and military renown none possessed a larger share. They belonged to the most haughty and exclusive of the patricians. Their blood had never been contaminated by degrading alliances with African, Jew, or Spaniard. Aside from the losses incurred through enforced contributions, their wealth had not been sensibly impaired by the destructive accidents of revolution and civil war. Their attainments would have been respectable even when Cordova was the most enlightened community in Europe, and now, in its age of degeneracy, few indeed could be found to rival them in acuteness and erudition. Some were descended from a line of courtiers for generations employed in the diplomatic service of the khalifate. Others had exercised their military talents against the Christian chivalry on the frontiers of Aragon and Catalonia. A few theologians were to be found among them whose religious principles had not escaped the vicious contagion of the age, and with whom questions of casuistry were invariably subordinated to the alluring claims of pecuniary interest and worldly ambition. It would naturally be presumed that men of this character would be solicitous to maintain a high standard of personal honor and political integrity. But constant familiarity with treason in its most repulsive forms; with the organized hypocrisy that permeated every department of the government and every rank of society; with the savage tyranny of princes, who themselves did not hesitate to assume the hateful office of executioner; with the deliberate malice of assassins, who without compunction thrust the dagger into the vitals of their unsuspecting friends; with the irreconcilable enmities of the nearest kindred; with the spirit of anarchy ripe among the masses, had produced such complete demoralization that no caste or individual was uncontaminated by its pernicious influence. The association of nobles, above alluded to, had organized itself into a semi-official body under the designation of the Council of State. At its head was Ibn-Djahwar, a statesman of great talents, of large experience, of exquisite tact, of indefatigable energy. The antagonism between this powerful junta and the minister became each day more bitter, as each endeavored, with industrious malignity, to subvert the authority of the other. The influence of his favorite was paramount with the Khalif, but the Khalif was a cipher. The nobles possessed the sympathy of their order and the deferential admiration of the masses, who always looked to the aristocracy for advice and leadership. They artfully stimulated the discontent of the people, already sufficiently grievous, by representing the public distress and the decline of commercial prosperity—legitimate results of a long series of national misfortunes—as the work of the obnoxious hajib. They aroused the feeling against the Berbers, some of whom Hakem had intrusted with important employments. Then, with an ingenious refinement of treachery, they engaged a young adventurer named Ommeya, a collateral descendant of the dynasty of Cordova, to head a revolution with the hope of ascending the throne. Every facility was afforded him by his shrewd but perfidious allies. They secretly distributed emissaries through every quarter of the capital and the provinces. They contributed gold with profuse liberality. The officers of the army were corrupted by bribery and by promises of promotion. At length the long-expected signal was given. The mob rose and killed the minister as he issued from the palace. The venerable Khalif was seized and confined in his apartments while the nobles assembled to determine his fate. Ommeya, wholly unconscious of the duplicity of which he was the victim, had already began to arrogate to himself the prerogatives of imperial power by the issuing of commands, the appointment of officials, and the distribution of rewards. The members of the Council of State, attended by an armed escort, now appeared upon the scene. With a solemnity that awed the multitude, they declared the khalifate abolished, and assumed, by virtue of their self-established dignity, the responsibilities of government and the supreme direction of affairs. In a proclamation addressed to the inhabitants of Andalusia, they recounted the calamities which had ensued from the broken and disordered succession of the empire; the repeated disappointments resulting from the elevation of incompetent and dissolute pretenders; the insecurity of the present and the uncertainty of the future which paralyzed all branches of commerce and industry; the absolute hopelessness of improvement under the worthless princes of a decrepit and unstable dynasty. With modesty and firmness they enumerated their own qualifications for the discharge of the functions they had usurped. They promised the maintenance of order, the regulation of police, the removal of the burdens imposed by immoderate and arbitrary taxation. They pledged themselves to the faithful execution of the laws. The well-known and eminent character of the nobles composing the Council of State procured for their statements a respectful hearing, and their power, long exercised in an advisory capacity, had prepared the way for the unreserved assumption of authority. Without either remonstrance or enthusiasm, the inhabitants of a considerable portion of the Peninsula transferred their alliance from a line of monarchs, rendered illustrious by the glorious traditions of nearly three centuries, to the irresponsible members of a precarious and self-constituted oligarchy.

The dupe of the conspirators, Ommeya, who with mingled rage and terror had seen his delusive hopes of empire vanish in an instant, was forcibly expelled from the city. His part having been played, and his insignificance rendering him unworthy of further attention, he remained at liberty, until, having tried to secretly enter the capital, he was arrested, and his disappearance from that moment was attributed, not without probability, to the sanguinary precautions of the Council of State.

Hischem was condemned to imprisonment for life in an isolated fortress of the Sierra Ronda. The negligence or the corruption of the guard, however, enabled him to escape after a few months’ detention, and he passed the five remaining years of his existence in the city of Lerida, a dependency of the princely family of Ibn-Hud, Emirs of Saragossa.

With Hischem III. finally disappeared the dynasty which had ruled, for the most part with phenomenal success and splendor, the powerful empire of Moorish Spain. In the space of two hundred and sixty-seven years, fourteen khalifs of the House of Ommeyah had guided the destinies of that empire. Of these princes, six pre-eminent in executive ability, in intellectual culture, in military genius, in political sagacity, had ascended, one after another, to the foremost rank among the great sovereigns of the earth. They had founded magnificent cities. They had erected palaces, whose crumbling ruins suggest the creations of the genii. They had collected vast libraries. Their commercial establishments were to be found among the most remote nations. The prowess of their captains had been recognized on the banks of the Rhone, on the plains of Lombardy, in the provinces of the Atlas, in the islands of the Mediterranean. Their munificence and culture had made the imperial city of the Guadalquivir a shrine of literary pilgrimage. In that city the aristocracy of intellect was even more esteemed than nobility of descent. Its possessors were the companions, the favorites, the councillors of kings. In singular contrast to the prejudices of subsequent ages, the edifices of religion were made subservient to the interests of science, and the minarets of mosques were furnished with astronomical apparatus. In the ability to erect stupendous monuments of mechanical and agricultural industry, in the perfection of hydraulic engineering, in the skilful employment of the principles of fortification, the subjects of these polished rulers were the superiors of any of the nations of antiquity. In such of the arts as were not proscribed by the doctrines of their religion, they produced models of unapproachable excellence. And, while these great advances in civilization were being made under the auspices of Islam, the European world was plunged in the darkness of barbarism and superstition. Of the great capitals of Europe, to-day the renowned seats of art and learning, London and Paris were the only ones whose population was sufficiently numerous to raise them to the dignity of cities. Within their precincts the most ordinary conveniences of life were practically unknown. The intercourse of the people was dominated by the brutal instincts of savage life; property was at the mercy of the strongest; and society was conjointly ruled by the sword of the baron and the crucifix of the monk. The vicious tendencies of the Moslem system; the participation of barbarians in a government whose mechanism they had neither the capacity to understand nor the judgment to direct; the corruption of public morals, inevitable in a state which has reached the highest degree of civilization attainable under its institutions; the gradual relaxation and final rupture of the ties of allegiance which bind the subject to the sovereign; the decrepitude of a nation which, in obedience to the inexorable necessity resulting from its political and social conditions, had completed its existence and fulfilled its destiny in the history of the world, had undermined the foundations and demolished the imposing fabric of the Ommeyade empire. The time had long since passed when the magic of a name, whose owners had accomplished so much for the cause of human progress, had ennobled the pursuits of learning and assumed the patronage of art,—a name almost synonymous with national prosperity and regal grandeur,—could inspire the respect of foreign nations or arouse the dormant enthusiasm of the multitude. No member of that dynasty, however talented, could now have restored the monarchy of his ancestors, whose reminiscences, for centuries refused the sanction of history among Christian nations and imperfectly preserved even by Arab authors, were destined to be largely transmitted to future ages through the suspicious medium of romantic and exaggerated tradition.

The relation of Moorish affairs in the Peninsula becomes henceforth necessarily desultory and disconnected. The authority, once central at Cordova, was distributed among a hundred states, whose rulers, mutually hostile and aspiring to individual supremacy, constantly enlisted Christian auxiliaries in a struggle which must eventually terminate in the contraction of their dominions, the impairment of their sovereignty, and the destruction of their faith. The blessings of peace, the preservation of order, were forgotten in a fierce contest for power inspired by revenge and ambition. Prejudices of race and religion, engendered by ages of unremitting hostility, were discarded by unnatural coalitions of Moslem usurpers and Castilian adventurers, whose only bond of alliance was a community of spoliation and infamy. The intrigues of one faction planted the banners of the Cross on the shores of the Mediterranean. The blind animosity of another permitted the desecration of the noblest monument of Moslem piety. Professed disciples of the religion of Mohammed saw with complacent indifference the horses of Christian knights tethered to the columns of the mosque of Abd-al-Rahman, while the sanctuary, which still contained the sacred Koran of the Khalif Othman, resounded with the clanking tread of the curious and scoffing infidel.

The disintegrated sections of the empire were now to witness the trial of a form of government hitherto unknown to the Moslem constitution. The very essence of the polity of Islam had always been the concentration of power in a single individual, who exercised conjointly the functions appertaining to the official head of both Church and State. The assumption of authority by an association of nobles, while the result of political necessity, was none the less an act of flagrant usurpation. It was repugnant to the principles, the traditions, the legal and religious maxims upon which the organization of Moslem society was based, and by which it had always been maintained. It had not received the sanction of popular approbation or consent. The dethronement of Hischem was an arbitrary deed of violence unconfirmed by any evidence of voluntary abdication. As there had been no formal renunciation of vested rights, those rights were only suspended, and the subjects of the Khalif were not, in law, absolved from their allegiance.

The constitution of the Council of State, whose jurisdiction extended but a short distance beyond the walls of Cordova, was partly oligarchical and partly democratic. A formal assemblage of citizens conferred upon Ibn-Djahwar, the most prominent member of that body, an office whose powers and privileges appertained to the anomalous dignity of the autocratic supreme magistrate of a republic. The course of Ibn-Djahwar was characterized by the greatest moderation and justice. Unlike the Cæsars of Rome, whose despotic edicts were registered by an obsequious senate, the president of the Moorish Council of State refused, of his own volition, to decide or even to examine any question until it had been publicly presented to his associates, and he required that all official communications should be addressed to them. This habitual deference to the opinions of his colleagues, which, however, invariably coincided with his own, increased the consideration in which he was held by the nobility, the army, the clergy, and the people. The new magistrate, in addition to the eminent qualifications which both suggested and justified his promotion, was aided by many adventitious circumstances which rarely fail to elicit the admiration or the homage of mankind. He belonged to a family of ancient and distinguished lineage. His ancestors had served the khalifs in the departments of finance and war. He was the most opulent citizen of the capital, and had managed, by an exercise of thrift and economy unusual in his station, to make vast accumulations to his wealth without ever incurring the suspicion of corruption or tyranny. The measures he adopted for the public welfare were dictated by the most exemplary prudence and wisdom. Taxes were reduced. Mercantile enterprise was promoted by the assurance of public security, derived from the protection of the highways and the repression of crime. Intimate commercial relations were established between Cordova and the other principalities of Andalusia, resulting in the interchange of commodities and the extension of trade. With a prudent regard for future contingencies, he provisioned the principal cities and forts under his jurisdiction. The magazines of the capital alone contained supplies for the entire population of the kingdom for many months. Important reforms were instituted in the army. The Berbers, ever an element of discord, were disbanded. Such as had been notorious for their atrocities were exiled. Their places were filled by a volunteer soldiery, which, in its general character, corresponded to our militia, and in whose organization the sentiments or the prejudices of no single faction were allowed to predominate. One division of this force, commanded by an officer of experience and ability, was made responsible for the peace of the city. The most distinguished citizens were enrolled in the guard of public safety, and by turns patrolled the streets. Public business was transacted with no more ceremony than was required to make it impressive by commanding respect. The numerous throng of parasites and dependents usually considered an indispensable appendage to the royal dignity no longer encumbered the antechambers of the palace. The formerly lucrative profession of informer, patronized by even the greatest khalifs as a precaution against treason, became deservedly infamous. The judicial tribunals were organized in the interests of equity. Competent advocates, who received compensation from the public treasury, were appointed to prosecute the causes of such as were too poor to employ counsel. Immigration was encouraged, and a considerable portion of the capital which had been demolished during the civil wars was rebuilt by the colonists, who, weary of perpetual strife, sought the protection of a new government which seemed to offer to its subjects the fairest hopes of peace and tranquillity. The administration of the finances was conducted in accordance with the strictest principles of economy, and officials charged with the collection of taxes were compelled to render accounts at stated times, and were held responsible, under heavy penalties, for the performance of their duties. The extraordinary and illegal burdens which had been imposed upon the mosques were abolished, and the clergy once more entered upon the enjoyment of the revenues of which they had been arbitrarily deprived. The disorders of the times had raised up a great number of impostors,—half physicians, half sorcerers,—who, to the great detriment of medical science and of the public health, plied their trade, sustained by the ignorance and credulity of the populace, ever easily deluded by the arts of charlatans. These were prosecuted by the government for magic, and to provide against a recurrence of the evil a college of physicians was organized, who passed upon the knowledge and the qualifications of every future practitioner. Such were the reforms effected by the prudence and the sagacity of Ibn-Djahwar. Although they produced for a time a semblance of prosperity, this was delusive and rather apparent than real. The calamities which had, almost without intermission, afflicted Cordova for a quarter of a century had forever degraded her from the proud rank of imperial cities. Her inhabitants had been massacred. Her wealth had been dispersed. Her trade had been destroyed. The literary prestige which had exalted her name far above even those of the polished capitals of the Moslem empire of the East had been swept away amidst the turmoil of barbarian supremacy. Henceforth the political eminence which she had once enjoyed was to be transferred to the cities of Toledo, Saragossa, Almeria, Badajoz, Seville, and Granada.

The policy of the early khalifs, who thoroughly appreciated the dangerous character of their African allies, had established the Berber hordes on the northern and western frontiers of their dominions, and as far as possible from their capital. The incessant warfare maintained by the Christians, as had been foreseen, so occupied these barbarians that their attention was diverted from the provinces of the South by the circumstances of their location, and the consequent demand for unremitting vigilance required by the proximity of an audacious and persevering enemy. The loyalty of the governors of this territory, whose capital was Saragossa, had never been above suspicion. The propensity of the Africans to rebellion was habitually indulged by their chieftains, who carried into the distant North the licentious independence of the Desert. During the existence of the khalifate, the Emirs of Saragossa conceded to the Ommeyade princes the doubtful allegiance of tributary vassals rather than the implicit obedience of faithful subjects. Their martial instincts, their predatory inclinations, and their constant familiarity with danger made them a race of formidable and experienced warriors. The family of Ibn-Hud, whose most distinguished ancestor was appointed governor of the frontier by the Khalif Abdallah, was the founder of the dynasty which raised Saragossa to great political influence among the independent estates of Moorish Spain. By political alliances with its Christian neighbors, it long preserved the integrity of its domain. It encouraged agriculture, commerce, manufactures. It patronized the arts. The portal of the palace mosque, still intact, conveys an idea of the barbaric extravagance of its architecture. Its princes were far from considering the pursuits of science as incompatible with regal dignity. One composed a work on mathematics. Another delighted to pass the hours of darkness in the study of the heavens. It was a singular destiny which had transformed the seat of these ferocious nomads—as a rule so insensible to extraneous influences—into one of the centres of Moslem civilization.

The fortunate experiment of Cordova in abolishing the empire—a measure which resulted in the restoration of peace—was imitated by Seville, a city which in population, opulence, and commercial resources had always been a powerful rival of the capital, and was now destined to assume a pre-eminent rank among the ephemeral dynasties of the Peninsula.

The expulsion of Kasim by the infuriated mob of Cordova was followed by his exclusion from the territory of Seville. Popular indignation had been aroused by a tyrannical order requiring that a thousand houses should forthwith be vacated by the citizens for the accommodation of his African followers. A garrison of Berbers had already exasperated the inhabitants by its repeated acts of insolence and cruelty. The prospect of an army of privileged banditti being quartered in their homes, an occupancy which was equivalent to absolute confiscation, drove the people of Seville to revolt. Abul-Kasim-Mohammed, the Kadi, and other representatives of the malcontents by promises of military promotion and pecuniary rewards easily induced the Berber governor to renounce the service of a master whom fortune seemed about to abandon. The gates were closed in the very face of the Emir. The walls were occupied by thousands of armed citizens prepared to defend, at all hazards, their newly obtained liberty. Kasim, after stipulating for the delivery of his treasures and the restoration of his sons who happened to be at that time in the city, consented to retire forever from the scenes of his former power. His rear-guard had scarcely been lost sight of from the battlements before the Berber garrison was notified to depart, and, relieved from apprehensions of hostile interference, the Sevillians proceeded without delay to the task of political reorganization.

By the unanimous voice of the multitude, prompted by the nobles, who, 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.