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

The temporary union of the Christian powers under Ferdinand I., which had so effectually demonstrated the weakness of the Moorish states of the Peninsula and had conferred such distinction on the Castilian arms, was followed by a series of domestic misfortunes culminating in civil war, seriously threatening the stability of the newly founded kingdom, and affording the Moslems an opportunity for recuperation by which they unfortunately had no longer either the energy or the capacity to profit. Ferdinand’s impolitic testamentary disposition of his dominions among his children indicated an amiable weakness, which, while it might be deserving of praise in a private individual, was discreditable to the experience and political foresight of a sovereign. With the public sanction of the nobles, his kingdom was divided into three portions, of which his son Sancho received Castile and a part of what is now Aragon; Alfonso, Leon and the Asturias; and Garcia, Galicia and the Portuguese conquests. To his daughters, Urraca and Elvira, were assigned respectively the cities of Zamora and Toro. As was inevitable, ambition and discontent with this arrangement eventually produced consequences fatal to the interests of the crown. Hostilities first broke out between Sancho and Alfonso with indecisive results. Then they mutually agreed to stake their kingdoms on the result of a single battle. Fortune favored the cause of Alfonso, and, with a clemency unusual in that age, his followers were not permitted even to pursue the routed Castilians, who, by the conditions of the compact, had become the subjects of the victor.

At this time first appears in history the name of a personage whose exploits, for the most part fabulous, have acquired for him a renown not inferior to that enjoyed by the demigods of antiquity,—Rodrigo Diaz de Bivar, popularly known as the Cid and the Campeador. His origin was illustrious, for he could trace his lineage to one of the noblest houses of Castile, one of whose members more than a century before had stood high in the councils of the nation, while his own courage and address had been conspicuous in the contests recently inaugurated by the rival aspirants for supremacy, as well as in campaigns against the infidel. He was one of the most trusted adherents of Sancho, and occupied the responsible position of second in command in the Castilian army. His unprincipled adroitness now revived by an outrageous violation of faith the desperate fortunes of his sovereign. The soldiers of Sancho, no longer apprehensive of the carnage usually consequent upon defeat, were soon again united under their standards. At the suggestion of Rodrigo, the Leonese army was attacked at daybreak; their camp was stormed; a dreadful massacre avenged the disaster of the preceding day and punished the negligence unpardonable in the vicinity of an enemy which had rendered such a catastrophe possible. Alfonso fled to the neighboring cathedral of Carrion; but the privilege of sanctuary was little considered in those times, especially when it conflicted with important political interests; and the King of Leon, having been seized, in defiance of the anathemas of the clergy, at the very altar, was carried in chains to Burgos. His life would have been sacrificed had he not unwillingly consented to receive the tonsure and assume the monastic habit, an obligation which, according to the institutions of the kingdom inherited from the ancient Gothic polity, ever after incapacitated him from becoming a candidate for the royal dignity. Becoming weary of the restraints of conventual discipline, which were even more rigidly enforced than usual owing to the peculiar circumstances of his novitiate, Alfonso succeeded in eluding the vigilance of his holy brethren, and, passing the frontier, was hospitably received by Mamun, the Moorish prince of Toledo. In the course of time Sancho managed to deprive his remaining brothers and sisters of their inheritance, with the single exception of Urraca, who still held the strong city of Zamora. While reconnoitring that fortress, he was surprised and killed by a cavalier who suddenly issued from one of the gates. The Castilian nobles, duly assembled in the Great Council of the kingdom, agreed to the election of Alfonso on condition that he would make a solemn oath that the death of his brother had not been instigated by his suggestions. Alfonso complied; Rodrigo Diaz was chosen, as the most powerful subject, to receive the political absolution of the monarch elect; and the latter, placing his hands between those of the man to whom was wholly due his present humiliation, publicly purged himself from all complicity in fratricide. Public considerations, as well as the necessity of retaining the support of a warrior of such redoubtable character, induced Alfonso not long afterwards to give him in marriage Ximena, a daughter of one of the most distinguished of the Asturian nobility.

The government of Alfonso VI. was characterized by reforms in every part of the administration, by the reorganization of the tribunals whose decrees had been long supplanted by the exactions and the outrages of arbitrary violence, and by the general re-establishment of order and security. The highways were thoroughly repaired and freed alike from the rapacious impositions of the nobles and the plague of brigandage. All offenders were treated with impartial justice. Neither the wealth, the position, nor the former services of a violator of the law could purchase exemption from punishment. Devoted to the Church, while not untainted with the prevalent Pagan superstition which still clung to spurious revelations of the future by the aid of astrology, divination, and augury, Alfonso was noted for his scrupulous adherence to the forms of worship and for his liberality to the ministers of religion. During his residence at Toledo, the exiled prince, becoming accustomed to the refined manners and superior civilization of the Moors, did not fail to profit by his experience, and to adopt, to some extent, institutions and customs so conducive to the material and intellectual progress of a people. Mamun, whose court was one of the most polished in the Peninsula, treated his royal guest with every courtesy and attention which the most generous sympathy and hospitality could dictate. He was lodged in the royal palace. A numerous train of slaves was appointed to obey his most trifling behests. He was provided with a seraglio of Moorish beauties for his special delectation. The greatest deference was habitually shown to him by the nobles, and he was permitted to share the intimacy of the monarch; he participated in the martial amusements of the court and in the excitements of the chase; he even received a command in the army, and fought bravely by the side of his infidel companions against the forces of hostile principalities. During all this time he was looking forward to an opportunity to obtain possession of Toledo, famous from the highest antiquity for its strength, its traditions, and the brave but riotous character of its populace. Of the difficulties attending such a project he was thoroughly aware. The place was believed to be practically impregnable to assault. Castilian hyperbole declared that “The Spaniards have drawn the meridian through that city because Adam was the first King of Spain, and God placed the sun at the moment of creation directly over that ancient stronghold.” Its natural advantages for defence had been improved by the ingenuity and the resources of many successive dynasties. Long anterior to the Punic occupation it had been the seat of power. Its formidable situation had awakened the astonishment of the Romans in the days of Pliny. The Visigoths had rebuilt its walls and made it their capital, a distinction it maintained over the charming Andalusian cities while that domination endured. The Saracens had strengthened the fortifications and embellished the suburbs with magnificent villas, pleasure-grounds, and gardens. Under the rule of the Beni-Dhinun, Toledo contained a larger and more thrifty population than it had ever before possessed. Encircled, except on the north, by the waters of the Tagus, the foundations of its walls stood more than a hundred feet above the level of that rapid stream. An inaccessible precipice insured it against a hostile attack from the direction of the river, while upon the land side the great height and enormous solidity of the walls and towers might well defy the efforts of a besieging army provided only with the imperfect military appliances of antiquity.

The political influence and extensive trade enjoyed by the city of Toledo as the capital of one of the great Moorish principalities were eclipsed by the splendor displayed by its emirs in the royal residences which were scattered through its environs. One of the most remarkable of these was called, in the picturesque imagery of the Arabic tongue, The Mansion of the Hours. It stood on the bank of the Tagus a short distance west of the city, and was decorated with all the magnificence and ingenuity of Moorish art. Its walls sparkled with mosaics and gilded stuccoes. In its construction the rarest marbles were used with lavish profusion. Fountains of exquisite proportions cooled its halls and court-yards. In the largest of these was placed one of the most curious pieces of hydraulic mechanism ever invented. It was a clepsydra contrived by the famous astronomer Al-Zarkal, and consisted of two basins or reservoirs supplied with water, whose quantity was regulated exactly according to the phases of the moon. With the appearance of the crescent on the horizon the water commenced to run into the reservoirs, which it continued to do until the fourteenth day, when they were filled, and then it gradually diminished in quantity until the twenty-ninth day, when they were entirely empty. If at any time water was added to or taken from these basins the amount was not affected; the concealed mechanism, acting automatically, at once removed the surplus or supplied the deficiency. The movement of the water was accurately calculated according to the constantly varying inequality of the days and nights,* —at sunrise on the first day a twenty-eighth part, and at sunset a fourteenth part, appeared. The inventive genius requisite for the construction of a mechanism capable of producing such extraordinary results may be readily imagined, if not appreciated, by a non-scientific reader. This wonderful contrivance, whose fame, embellished with many fabulous additions, extended to the limits of the Peninsula, was mentioned with awe by the ignorant, who considered it as a mysterious talisman to be attributed to the supernatural powers of the genii and solely adapted to the unholy operations of magic. But there is no question that the clepsydra of Al-Zarkal was constructed for astronomical purposes, although at times it may have been diverted from its original uses to aid in the calculations of the profane but popular science of judicial astrology. The predilection of Mamun for scientific investigations and for the society of highly educated men was not unworthy of the most distinguished khalifs of the Ommeyade dynasty. His intellectual tastes and munificent patronage reawakened public interest in studies which had long been neglected amidst the oppression of petty tyrants and the din of perpetual revolution. His capital became one of the principal centres of Moorish culture, and the conversation of the learned was the delight of a court renowned far and wide for its civilization, its luxury, and the liberality and accomplishments of its sovereign.

In the garden of another villa belonging to the Moorish kings of Toledo was a pavilion built in the centre of an immense fountain. It was approached by a subterranean passage. The sides and roof were covered with glass of many hues relieved by gold and silver arabesques; the floor was of exquisite mosaic. In the mid-day heat of summer the Emir, accompanied by his favorite slaves, was accustomed to resort for his siesta to this pavilion, which stood in a shady grove. As soon as the royal train had entered, the building was completely enveloped with the dashing spray of the fountain, the musical ripple of whose waters soon lulled the occupants to sleep. A delicious coolness was obtained by this simple but ingenious device, and the refraction of the drops of water as they fell on the surface of the painted glass produced all the iridescent and blending colors of the rainbow. The luxurious appliances of the Arabs of Toledo, who were forced to contend with the drawbacks of a rigorous and variable climate and an unproductive soil, were far more creditable to their talents and industry than were those of the Andalusians, who were aided to an extraordinary degree by the advantages of situation and the prodigal gifts of nature. The banks of the Tagus were dotted for miles with the country-seats of the Moorish nobles and of the Jews, whose political and financial influence in the society of the venerable city preceded even the Visigothic domination, so that, when viewed from the commanding height of the walls, they resembled a continuous garden stretching as far as the eye could reach. Such was Moorish Toledo, a prize well worthy of the ambition of any conqueror.

The prophesies of astrologers and charlatans had embittered the closing hours of Motadhid, the tyrant of Seville. They found no encouragement for the perpetuation of his dynasty in the mysterious ceremonies of divination or the casting of horoscopes. The oracles of imposture, prompted perhaps by the occurrences of the past century as well by the inevitable tendency of African invasion towards the attractive shores of Andalusia, had declared that the empire of the Beni-Abbad would be conquered by warriors of foreign origin. The fears and the discernment of Motadhid correctly attributed this allusion to the barbarians of the Libyan Desert, now pouring with irresistible force over the entire region of Northern Africa. And even if this prediction should fail, there could be little doubt in his mind of the ultimate triumph of the Christian arms. The empire which he had founded was held together solely by the influence of terror. His vassals were ready to revolt at the slightest prospect of political benefit. His dynasty was regarded with contempt by the aristocracy and with execration by the populace. The extent of his dominions instead of being a source of strength was in reality only an indication of weakness. With all the artifices he could employ, he had been compelled to purchase the forbearance of the Castilian princes by an onerous and degrading tribute. It required no great degree of penetration to discover that the end of the Arab domination in the greater part of the Peninsula was at hand.

Motamid, who now ascended the throne of Seville, was not the ruler to restore the fortunes or even to sustain the burdens of a tottering monarchy. Endowed with excellent abilities, his inclinations led rather to the refined enjoyments of a sedentary life than to the responsibilities of government or to the hardships and perils of a military career. From early youth he had evinced a passion for literature. His faculties had been developed under the instruction of the best scholars of the time, and, possessing unusual powers of improvisation, he had made considerable progress in that art, prized among his countrymen as an indication of the highest poetical genius. Already intrusted with the conduct of important military enterprises, none of which, however, were successful, his disastrous campaign at Malaga sufficiently demonstrated his utter incapacity for command. The society of women divided with the love of letters the domain of his affections; a slave to female charms, he was helplessly subjected to the imperious caprices of his favorites, who exercised over his plastic mind a tyranny which admitted of no compromise and brooked no contradiction. His chief sultana was Romaiquia, a slave purchased from a master who exercised the respectable but plebeian calling of a muleteer. In an accidental encounter she had enchanted him with her quickness of repartee and her readiness in improvisation and poetical dialogue, and, in accordance with a custom not infrequent among a race with whom social rank is often subordinated to intellectual accomplishments, he had made her the companion of his leisure and the sharer of his throne. The minister of Motamid was Ibn-Ammar, whose principal qualification for office in the eyes of his sovereign was his devotion to the Muses. Under such conditions it is not surprising that the affairs of the kingdom assumed a very different aspect from that which they bore during the reign of the stern and merciless Motadhid. The revenues decreased through the intentional neglect of vassals to forward their tribute, and the dishonesty of collectors of taxes who appropriated the bulk of the funds which had been amassed by oppression. Robbers once more ruled the highways. Scarcely a night passed without the pillage of a house or the murder of a citizen within the walls of the capital, often under the very shadow of the palace. Vast sums, whose judicious expenditure would have greatly contributed to the comfort of the people and the security of the kingdom, were bestowed upon foreign poets, whose ingratitude and impudence were far more conspicuous than their talents, or squandered to indulge the whims of rapacious and frivolous women. The army, upon whose discipline everything depended, partook of the prevalent demoralization. The officers neglected their duties. The soldiers supplied the frequent deficiencies of their pay by the plunder of individuals known to be obnoxious to the government or by the precarious gains of half-concealed robbery. Thoughtful persons viewed with dismay the wild disorder that reigned in every province and in every town; heard with apprehension of the approach of the two great powers from the North and the South, whose proximity boded ill to the interests of civilization; and, sunk into despair, awaited in silent terror the final destruction of the empire.

The various changes which were constantly affecting the political complexion and mutual relations of the Moslem states of the Peninsula had finally concentrated the Arab supremacy in the three kingdoms of Granada, Toledo, and Seville. The encroachments of their formidable neighbors, and the consciousness of their own weakness, had merged the smaller principalities and cities, which had, for a brief and stormy period, enjoyed the appearance of independent states, into the domain of potentates who possessed the means as well as the inclination to uphold their pretensions to sovereignty. Of these, Granada, protected by her comparative isolation from the designs of her rivals, pursued her career of aggrandizement disturbed only by occasional internal commotions. Toledo, under the enlightened rule of the Beni-Dhinun, eclipsed in the splendor of its court and the genius of its monarch the reputation of all the other principalities. The enterprise of the Toledan prince had recently acquired for his dominions a large accession of valuable territory. A close alliance existed between him and Alfonso VI., and numbers of Christian cavaliers served gallantly under the Moslem standards. Valencia and its rich plantations fell without resistance into the hands of Mamun. The provinces of Murcia and Orihuela, teeming with exotic vegetation and abundant and multiple harvests, after an invasion of a few weeks, yielded to the prowess of the warriors of the North, and the garden of Eastern Spain was added to the domain of the flourishing kingdom of Toledo. These easy and profitable triumphs were far from satisfying the ambition of the aggressive Mamun. His eyes were constantly fixed upon the venerated capital of the khalifs, which, although deprived of its honors, its wealth, and its magnificence, still retained a diminished portion of the prestige it had formerly enjoyed, while its weakness tempted attack and annexation.

Ibn-Djahwar, whose wisdom had so long directed the counsels of the oligarchical commonwealth which had been founded on the ruins of the khalifate, oppressed with the infirmities of age and declining health, had resigned the conduct of affairs to his sons, Abd-al-Rahman and Abd-al-Melik. To the former was committed the management of the civil administration; the latter was invested with the command of the army. The superior talents of Abd-al-Melik, aided by the support of the military, gained for him the ascendant; but his despotic treatment of a people who had enjoyed for a brief period the advantages of political and individual liberty made him at the same time an object of universal detestation. In the midst of the discontent and confusion arising from the enforcement of his oppressive measures, Abd-al-Melik was confounded by the approach of the enemy. The diligence of the Prince of Toledo, prompted by secret intelligence conveyed by the disaffected, had anticipated the military dispositions of his adversary, and he was almost at the gates of Cordova before the latter received information that he had passed the frontier. The condition was critical. The sons of Ibn-Djahwar, far from inheriting the capacity of their father, had wantonly undermined the foundations of his power. The old vizier, Ibn-al-Sacca, who enjoyed the confidence of every class of citizens, had been summarily executed under an unfounded accusation of treason. His death, inexcusable in the eyes of the unprejudiced, had alienated the attachment of a large and respectable portion of the community. The popularity and veneration inspired by his love of justice and the wisdom of his administration caused the retirement of many of the most prominent and experienced officers of the army; while the people, who regarded him with almost filial reverence on account of his acts of benevolence, saw, with ominous murmurs, the efforts of an inexperienced youth to secure for himself, without sanction of law, public service, or personal sacrifice, the unlimited exercise of arbitrary power. In his extremity, Abd-al-Melik appealed to his neighbor Motamid, Emir of Seville. The latter responded with suspicious alacrity. A formidable detachment of Sevillian troops was admitted into the city; and the besiegers, unable to effect anything against such a garrison, were obliged to retire after the incomplete gratification of their malice by the pillage of the already wasted suburbs and the destruction of a few scattered and insignificant settlements. But while endeavoring to thwart the plans of a foreign enemy, the Prince, whose incompetency was destined to accomplish the subjection of his capital and the ruin of his family, had unconsciously exposed himself to a more imminent and fatal peril. The officers of Motamid lost no time in ingratiating themselves with the citizens of Cordova. They lauded, with extravagant praises, the character of their own sovereign; they incited the discontented and the ambitious to revolt; they overcame with costly gifts and specious arguments the scruples and the wavering allegiance of the hesitating; they aggravated, by appeals to passion and prejudice, the evils produced by the abuse of power, and pictured in glowing colors the present opportunity for a safe and speedy deliverance. These representations were received with avidity by the people of Cordova, who, after years of bloodshed and tyranny, had lost none of their predisposition to rebellion. A conspiracy was organized to transfer the city to Motamid. The negligence, the stupidity, or the corruption of the government officials permitted the arrangements essential to the success of the plot to be perfected without interference, and probably without detection. While the perfidious allies of Abd-al-Melik were drawn up in apparent preparation for departure, a tumult arose among the inhabitants; the palace was surrounded; the gates of the city were closed; and before the family of Ibn-Djahwar was able to realize the peril of the situation, its supremacy was overthrown and the imperial city of the khalifs had acknowledged the jurisdiction of the princes of Seville. Elated by the facility of his conquest, Motamid exhibited in the treatment of his illustrious prisoners a generous and unusual clemency. He caused them to be transported to the island of Saltes, where the comforts of a pleasant and commodious habitation might indifferently replace the cares, the disappointments, and the splendors of royalty.

The triumph of the Beni-Abbad was, however, of short duration. Mamun, who determined to secure by stratagem what he could not gain by force, enlisted the services of Ibn-Ocacha, a personage of considerable abilities and unsavory reputation, who had, in a long career of crime, successively exercised the congenial employments of assassin, highwayman, and soldier of fortune. The government of Cordova had been nominally committed to Abbad, heir-apparent of the royal house of Seville; but the power in reality was vested in Mohammed, an officer whose distinguished merit in the profession of arms was obscured by the vices of brutality, licentiousness, perfidy, and avarice. His conduct provoked the resentment of the people, a feeling which even the amiable qualities of Abbad were insufficient to counteract; and the suggestions of Ibn-Ocacha found a ready acceptance among a population whose inclination to sedition, transmitted through many generations of revolutionists, had become hereditary and habitual. In the midst of a terrible storm, and in the dead of night, Ibn-Ocacha, with a band of outlaws and desperadoes, was admitted by his fellow-conspirators into the fortifications of Cordova. As they approached the palace of the governor the alarm was given, and Abbad, half clad and without his armor, at the head of a few attendants, bravely confronted the assailants who sought his life. A desperate conflict followed; the valor of the prince aroused the fear of his ferocious enemies; they began to waver; when he lost his footing upon the pavement, slippery with blood, and fell prostrate, to be instantly pierced with a score of weapons. At daybreak, his head having been raised upon a pike, the soldiers took to ignominious flight; the fickle multitude greeted with execrations the features they had so recently admired; the aristocracy and the merchants embraced a cause which might afford protection to their persons and their estates; and, Ibn-Ocacha having convoked the citizens in the mosque of Abd-al-Rahman, the vast assemblage proclaimed, with vociferous but hollow acclamations, their doubtful allegiance to the Emir of Toledo. Intelligence of the success of the enterprise having been communicated to Mamun, he at once repaired to the scene of his final triumph, the famous city so indissolubly associated with the glories and the misfortunes of the Moorish empire. He was hailed as a deliverer by the people that crowded the streets, whose fidelity had been so often tested and so often found wanting as to have passed into a proverb. Ibn-Ocacha received the rewards due to the distinguished services he had rendered, but the high-spirited Mamun shrank from daily contact with a notorious criminal, and his soul revolted at the insolent familiarity of an assassin whose hands had been unnecessarily stained with royal blood. His feelings could not be concealed from the object of his contempt; in an unguarded moment he suffered an expression of ominous significance to escape him; and, while planning the sacrifice of a tool whose existence must eventually jeopardize his interests, his designs were frustrated by the vigilance of his enemy, and the prince who had issued unscathed from the exposure of a hundred battles perished miserably by poison.

The occupation of Cordova was the signal for unremitting hostilities by the Emir of Seville. Over his proud and sensitive nature the sentiments of indignation, sorrow, and disappointment alternately held sway. The entire resources of his kingdom, the skill of his bravest generals, the valor of Christian mercenaries, the encouragement of his own presence, were, during three years, employed for the recovery of the city. The persevering vengeance of Motamid was at last crowned with success; the venerable metropolis of the West once more endured the savage excesses of a licentious soldiery; and the Toledan garrison expiated by a shocking massacre its attachment to its latest sovereign. The death of Ibn-Ocacha, who was crucified head downward, in company with a dog, before the principal gate of Cordova, appeased in some measure the fierce resentment of the devoted father of Abbad, while the subsequent conquest of the territory between the Guadiana and the Guadalquivir signally rebuked the presumptuous ambition of the King of Toledo.

The genius of Alfonso VI. had with each year of his reign cemented the foundations and expanded the resources of the Christian power. After the overthrow of his brethren no domestic rivals remained to dispute his authority. His frequent expeditions against the Moslems exercised the valor of the troops in frequent campaigns, gratified the prejudices of the clergy by the prosecution of a crusade, and stimulated the ruling passion of both of these castes by the judicious distribution of the rich spoils of the Moslem. Never since the time of the Goths had the influence of the Christians been of such extent and importance. Their dominions already embraced no inconsiderable portion of the Peninsula. Their conquests began to assume the aspect of permanent acquisitions. The great principalities of Seville and Toledo were tributaries of the King of Castile, but their regular and involuntary contributions were not always sufficient to ward off invasion. Upon the smallest pretext, and often absolutely without provocation, the mailed chivalry of the North swept like a devastating torrent the plains of the Tagus and the Guadalquivir. The obligation of immunity implied by the annual delivery of tribute was seldom observed by the adroit exponents of Christian casuistry. Already had appeared the germ of that maxim, afterwards so popular and lucrative, that no contract was binding when made with an infidel. The treasures transmitted by the Moors each year to the court of Castile, and which were apparently collected without inconvenience or effort, stimulated the cupidity and ambition of the monarch, and deeply impressed his impoverished subjects with the fabulous wealth and inexhaustible resources of the diminished but still opulent provinces of the once prosperous Moslem empire. The immediate occupation of these provinces was merely a question of political expediency. Their ultimate absorption by the Christian monarchy was no longer doubtful. The determination of the problem rested with the sovereign, who, by this time, had concluded to substitute for the capricious predatory excursions, constantly undertaken in contravention of the faith of solemn engagements and in defiance of the most obvious principles of justice, the regular operations of an organized campaign. The first demonstration was made against Seville. At the head of the largest Christian army which had ever invaded Andalusia, Alfonso VI. appeared before the gates of the capital. The city was thrown into consternation. No adequate means of defence were available, for the constitutional negligence of Motamid—who, besides, naturally presumed that the position of vassal would insure his security—had abandoned the supervision of military precautions for the diversions of midnight banquets and literary assemblies. By the ingenuity of Ibn-Amman, however, the impending catastrophe was prevented, and a respite afforded the terrified citizens, who anticipated with just dismay the savage license of their enemies. The stratagem by which this was accomplished, although in perfect harmony with the character and the customs of a romantic age, seems hardly credible when contrasted with the present prosaic negotiations of contracting powers. Among the amusements that were popular with the princes of Spain, both Moorish and Christian, was the game of chess, which the Arabs had brought from India. This diversion was a favorite one with Motamid, and he possessed a chess-board which, made by the most accomplished artificers of the kingdom, was the wonder of the court. The board itself was constructed of many pieces of sandal and other costly woods, embellished with exquisite gold and silver arabesques and glittering with gems. The squares were of ivory and ebony, the men of the same materials, carved with marvellous skill and mounted in solid gold. This beautiful toy Ibn-Ammar determined to use as the instrument for the salvation of his country. Carrying it under his robes, he visited the Christian encampment, and having, as if undesignedly, permitted some of the Castilian knights to examine it, awaited the effect of this exhibition upon the curiosity of the King. The latter, who was devoted to the game and was an excellent player, challenged Ibn-Ammar, who himself had no superior in Cordova, to contend with him in this the most fascinating pastime of royalty. The wily vizier consented, with the understanding that if Alfonso prevailed he should receive the chess-board, but if not, that he should grant the first request his successful opponent should demand of him. The discernment of the King led him to at once reject this insidious proposal, and Ibn-Ammar retired to his tent. The spirit of the minister was not discouraged by his apparent failure; he quietly secured the co-operation of some of the most influential nobles of the court by the bestowal of treasure with which he was amply provided with a view to just such an emergency. The plausible presentations of these powerful allies soon overcame the fears of the monarch, and an insignificant plaything was deposited as the prize of the winner against the magnificent stake of an empire. The tact of the Moslem procured the appointment as judges of those nobles already purchased with his gold. The game proceeded; Alfonso proved no match for his practised opponent, who, when the time arrived to announce his request, demanded the unconditional evacuation of Andalusia by the Christian army. The mortification of the King at this unexpected demand may be imagined, and, in a moment of anger, he even meditated the violation of his royal word; but the efforts of the courtiers, and the tender of a double tribute willingly contributed by the government of Seville, appeased his vexation, and he relinquished with reluctance the splendid prize already within his grasp. Thus, by the shrewdness and cunning of a statesman, whose act has no parallel in the annals of diplomacy, the matured plans of an able sovereign were foiled; a national calamity was averted; and means were even provided for the further aggrandizement of a territory whose effeminate government and demoralized condition had invited the attack of a formidable invader. Not only Seville, but not improbably the other states of Andalusia and of Eastern Spain as well, were saved by the ruse of Ibn-Ammar, and the end of the death-struggle between Christian and Moslem in the Peninsula was protracted for more than four hundred years. The military genius of Alfonso, the distinction and experience he had gained in a long series of victorious campaigns, the tested valor of a numerous army excited by the spirit of military emulation, and the blind fury of religious zeal constantly inflamed by fanatics, justify the presumption that the fall of Seville would have soon been followed by the subjection of every other Moslem state, and that, upon apparently so insignificant a thing as a game of chess, once depended the existence and the destinies of the Hispano-Arab domination. The obligation due to the ingenuity and perseverance of Ibn-Ammar may be appreciated when it is recalled that a hundred and sixty-three years elapsed after the retirement of Alfonso from the walls of Seville before that city passed into the hands of the Christians, and that it was more than three centuries after that event when, by the surrender of Granada, the Moorish dominion in the Peninsula was finally terminated.

Thwarted in the enterprise upon which he had founded so many ambitious hopes, Alfonso now directed his attention to Toledo. That principality, raised to such eminence by the genius of Mamun, had since the death of that monarch greatly declined in power and prestige. His son and successor, Kadir, inherited none of the talents or the energy of his illustrious father. Of effeminate tastes and luxurious habits, he was the tool of astrologers, women, and eunuchs. The peace of the palace was disturbed by the incessant quarrels of these rapacious and vindictive parasites. Their disputes consumed the time usually devoted by the councils of princes to the discussion of important questions of state policy; and a contest for precedence in some idle ceremonial or the ignominious competition for a bribe attracted more attention at the court of Toledo than the imposition of a tax or the defence of a city. The most trivial employment, the most frivolous pastime, was not undertaken without a solemn consultation with charlatans. The relative positions of the planets were carefully ascertained before the departure of expeditions of pleasure, and the daily movements of the court were determined by the benign or malignant aspect of the stars. In an age of martial exploits, a prince who countenanced such impostures, and was not endowed with the redeeming qualities of personal courage or military ambition, could not retain the respect of his contemporaries. The boundaries of his dominions contracted year by year. Murcia was taken by the troops of Motamid. Valencia again declared and for a time maintained her independence. The districts on the borders of Portugal, comprising a part of what is now included in the province of Estremadura, were appropriated by Alfonso, who was no longer bound by the obligations of friendship contracted with his ancient host and protector Mamun. The internal affairs of the kingdom of Toledo were in dire confusion. The exactions of the government finally became intolerable. Kadir and his swarm of eunuchs and astrologers were expelled from the city; a provisional government was established; and the rebellious citizens placed themselves under the protection of the Emir of Badajoz. In his extremity, the terrified and superstitious prince applied to his powerful suzerain, the King of Castile. But the latter was not willing to undertake such an invidious task without the previous assurance of some tangible advantage. He required the delivery of all the treasure that Kadir had succeeded in bringing away from Toledo, which included vessels and plate of immense value, as well as many thousand pieces of gold, and the surrender of the most important castles which still acknowledged his authority. The desperate circumstances of the dethroned ruler admitted of no temporizing. A sullen but unconditional acquiescence followed the exorbitant demands of Alfonso, and the treasure was conveyed by slaves to the palace at Burgos. The soldiers of Castile and Leon were then introduced into the citadels of the frontier; and the degenerate son of Mamun, who had already lost his capital, now saw himself about to be deprived of the remainder of his inheritance. Aware of the hopelessness of an attempt to reduce such a fortress as Toledo by means of mining or escalade, the Castilian sovereign resolved to try the tedious but more certain operation of famine. The walls were consequently invested; all avenues of supply were blockaded; and the beautiful valley of the Tagus was denuded of its orchards and its harvests. By a refinement of policy suggested by the peculiar relations existing between the crown of Castile and the Moorish governments of Andalusia, Alfonso adopted the profitable expedient of utilizing the Moslems as instruments of their own destruction. At regular intervals fiscal messengers were despatched to the capitals of the independent municipalities, and the sums thus collected defrayed the expenses of the siege of Toledo. So indispensable, indeed, were these contributions that without their aid no campaign of any length could, during the period under discussion, have been successfully prosecuted by the Christian monarchs of Spain. The revenues of states whose soil and climate were unfavorable to the operations of agriculture, and which were inhabited by a people constantly engaged in warfare, hardly sufficed to maintain the royal establishment, even in time of peace. The booty derived from predatory expeditions, although often of great value, was usually apportioned among the victorious soldiery in the field of battle, and was at once dissipated by the notorious improvidence of its recipients, while the uncertainty of its amount and the difficulty with which it was obtained rendered this source of supply unavailable for the pressing exigencies of the public service. Thus it may be seen how opportune was the regular income of Moorish gold which sustained for years the precarious fortunes of the Castilian monarchy, and by whose aid the vassals of the same suzerain were induced involuntarily to compass each other’s ruin. Familiarity with the use of such an invaluable expedient soon suggested various methods of improving its efficiency. The stipulated amount of the tribute was doubled. Extraordinary contributions were occasionally levied under the name of “gifts,” a species of extortion centuries afterwards adopted by the arbitrary sovereigns of civilized Europe as a convenient means of refilling a depleted treasury. In these financial transactions, the agency of Hebrews, whose heterodox opinions were not openly condemned so long as their unscrupulous schemes could be made to enure to the profit of the state, were exclusively employed. The arrogance of these emissaries, who exaggerated the importance of their trust, and, emboldened by their influence with the monarch, made no effort to disguise their power, was often intolerable. During the siege of Toledo, the Jew Ben-Kalib was sent with a small retinue by Alfonso to collect the tribute of Seville. When the money was tested, it was found to have been alloyed with baser metal. The vizier of Motamid, who had delivered it, was summoned to the camp of the embassy. As soon as he arrived, the fury of Ben-Kalib prevailed over his discretion, and he exclaimed, “How dare you try to impose upon me with these counterfeits? I will not depart until after you have furnished me with coin of the stipulated weight and value, and next year I shall exact the tribute of my master in cities, not in gold!” This insolence was immediately reported to Motamid; the Christian envoys paid for the imprudent conduct of their comrade with imprisonment; and Ben-Kalib, realizing when too late the fatal error he had committed, after having offered in vain his weight in gold as a ransom, was crucified like the most degraded malefactor.

The rage of the King of Castile when he heard of the treatment of his ambassadors knew no bounds. The survivors were ransomed by the delivery of the castle of Almodovar; and then Alfonso, leaving behind him a sufficient force to blockade Toledo, carried fire and sword through the dominions of Motamid to the very shores of the Mediterranean.

There is nothing so indicative of the helpless condition of the Moslems in these wars as their evident inability to obstruct the progress or harass the movements of an invading army. They seem to have trusted solely to the defences of their strongholds. The plantations, the peasantry, the flocks, and the harvests were precipitately abandoned to the enemy. Not a vestige remained of that ancient spirit which had repelled the martial chivalry of Europe in many sanguinary encounters, which had planted the Moslem standards in the plains of Central France, on the mountains of Sardinia, on the banks of the Po and the Tiber, on the towers of Palermo and Syracuse, on the ruined walls of Narbonne and Santiago.

His vengeance for the moment satiated, Alfonso returned to the siege of Toledo. The continuous investment of seven years’ duration had almost exhausted the resources, and had entirely shaken the resolution, of the inhabitants of that proud and rebellious city. They now consented to make terms with their exiled sovereign, and Kadir, followed by his greedy train of eunuchs and conjurers, was again permitted to ascend the throne of his ancestors. The price exacted for this restoration by his allies made it, however, a costly triumph. The exorbitant demands of Alfonso impoverished the treasury and appropriated the most valuable domain of the once splendid inheritance of the princes of Toledo. All of his own portable possessions, together with the vast wealth amassed by his family, were laid at the feet of his rapacious ally. But even this did not satisfy the King of Castile, who, in pursuance of the astute policy which had hitherto proved so successful, had adopted a safer and a less expensive mode of conquest than a direct appeal to arms. The fortresses which had been transferred to the Christians as security were appropriated, nominally to defray the expenses of the war. Others were demanded and given up, until little remained to Kadir but a comparatively small extent of territory, which had been ravaged alternately by both Christian and Moslem armies, and the perilous jurisdiction of a discontented and turbulent capital. Deprived of his revenues and almost without means of subsistence, Kadir had now no resource to employ for the maintenance of his household and his dignity but the oppression of his subjects. The people, however, were not willing to longer endure the exactions of a frivolous and tyrannical master, and sought in the neighboring states an asylum from persecution. Some fled to the fertile and hospitable regions of the South,—to Seville, Granada, Malaga. Others settled in the kingdom of Saragossa. Many of those who remained, stripped of all their property and unable to procure food for their families, died of hunger. Once populous districts were entirely deserted. Towns of considerable size were abandoned to ruin; not a living thing was to be seen in the empty streets; and among the decaying habitations everywhere prevailed the awful and impressive silence of the tomb. In the presence of the public distress, the regular payment of tribute was inexorably enforced by Alfonso. The inability of Kadir to respond to the demand precipitated the seizure of his remaining estates, which, since his restoration, he had only held by the sufferance of his Christian neighbors. Unable longer to maintain his failing power, he opened negotiations looking to the surrender of his capital. The conditions imposed and accepted were such as, while extremely favorable to the Moslems, could be readily conceded by the magnanimous spirit of Alfonso. The privileges of unmolested residence, of the enjoyment of property, of the practice of religious rites, were granted to the Toledans; and they were also permitted to retain the services of their own magistrates and to be subject to the operation of their own laws. The tribute to the new sovereign was fixed at the same amount which had been payable to the old in accordance with the legal tax of the Mussulman code. The grand mosque was to be forever inviolate and solely devoted to the worship of Islam. The fortifications, the public works, the royal palace and gardens, were to become the property of the Castilian crown. A private article closely affecting the political fortunes of the King of Toledo was one of the important provisions of the treaty. It stipulated that the latter was, as soon as practicable, to be placed on the throne of Valencia, even if the entire power of the Christian monarchy should be required to carry it into effect. The last hours of Kadir in his lost capital were passed in consultation with astrologers to determine the most auspicious moment for his departure. His ludicrous distress aroused the ridicule and amazement of all who beheld him as, carrying an astrolabe, he rode slowly out of the gate at the head of his escort. Great numbers of Moslems in a short time abandoned their homes on account of the open and unrebuked violation of the compact which had conferred upon them the exercise of their religion and the enjoyment of their ancient privileges.

As soon as the treaty was signed, the King of Castile entered the city, followed by an imposing train of ecclesiastics and cavaliers. All the pomp of the Christian hierarchy, all the barbaric luxury of the Spanish nobles, were displayed on this occasion of triumph, an occasion which portended the speedy overthrow of the Moorish sovereignty in the North. The prelates, attired in their official vestments, bore aloft the crosses and the sacred vessels once the property of the Gothic clergy of imperial Toledo. These, rescued from the polluting grasp of the Saracen and preserved for nearly four hundred years in the inaccessible depths of the Asturias, were now to be restored to their altars, a convincing proof of the truth of the gospel and of the justice and power of the Christian God. Behind the ecclesiastical dignitaries came the nobles, many of them descendants of families that had once inhabited the palaces of the Visigothic capital,—the ancestors of the most illustrious houses of the Spanish monarchy. The rear was closed by the ladies of the court, guarded by a detachment of the Castilian army.

Affairs having been settled in Toledo, a large force was sent to Valencia to secure that rich kingdom through the instrumentality of Kadir. The co-operation of a faction friendly to the Prince of Toledo facilitated the occupation of the capital, and the provinces soon followed its example. But the majority of the people detested their new ruler, who incurred all the odium of an intruder and possessed none of the dazzling qualities which usually attach to the character of a conqueror. The country groaned under the impositions exacted by the maintenance of a host of half-savage Castilians. Their pay and rations absorbed each day the great sum of six hundred pieces of gold. To meet this extraordinary demand, heavy taxes were levied; the rich were plundered; and the license of the soldiers, who respected neither the laws of military discipline nor the rites of hospitality, was, of necessity, ignored. Then, as a compromise, these troublesome guests were established on lands in the fertile valley of the Segura, which had been depopulated by the accidents and calamities of war. But this experiment proved unsatisfactory. The plantations were consigned by their owners to the labors and the supervision of slaves; while the adjacent territory was vexed by the incursions of bold riders who, in the exercise of their rapacious instincts, made no discrimination between friend and foe. The prevalence of factious disorder, the absence of recognized authority, and the consequent immunity enjoyed by outlaws of every description caused the profession of brigandage to be regarded as the most popular and lucrative of employments. The numbers and invincible reputation of the Castilians soon made their camp the asylum of every fugitive from justice, proscribed rebel, and religious apostate in Southeastern Spain. Thoroughly demoralized by such associations, the soldiers of Kadir, prompted by their infamous recruits, openly assumed the profession of banditti and became the scourge of the kingdom. They stripped travellers. They extorted immense ransoms from the wealthy residents of cities. They quartered themselves on the citizens, and violated the chastity of the female members of their households. They mutilated their victims in ways that forbid description. No rank, no creed, was exempt from their murderous brutality. The noble was beaten to reveal the whereabouts of his treasures. The peasant, whether Moslem or Christian, was seized and sold as a slave. A handful of copper, a measure of wine, a loaf of bread, or a pound of fish was sufficient to purchase one of these unfortunates. Those who were unsalable on account of age or physical infirmity were made the objects of ingenious and protracted tortures; they were blinded by fire; their flesh was pierced with red-hot irons; their tongues were cut out; or they were thrown to famished and infuriated dogs.

At this time, throughout the Peninsula, the isolated remains of Moslem power seemed about to yield to Christian supremacy. The prestige of the kingdom of Castile, under the guidance of an adroit and valiant monarch, daily increased. Toledo had fallen. Saragossa was besieged by a powerful army. The Castilians had established themselves at many points in the heart of the enemy’s country. The principality of Almeria was incessantly harassed by the expeditions of a predatory band which had seized the town of Aledo. Valencia was practically dominated by the subjects of Alfonso. The Christians of Granada regularly communicated with their brethren domiciled in the neighboring kingdoms, and, as the result of this intercourse, a small troop of adventurous cavaliers had penetrated to a point within a few miles of that city. The prowess of the Christian knight was so dreaded that his very appearance was able to put to flight a score of Moslems. In this age of transition between the historic achievements of the khalifate and the martial exploits which distinguished the Conquest of Granada, Moorish loyalty and courage were but a reminiscence. The ultimate destiny of the Hispano-Arab states of Spain—a destiny which implied destruction and servitude—was obvious and inevitable. The most fortunate of them was no longer able to preserve a condition of even nominal and ambiguous independence. The haughtiest of their princes were mere vassals, whose domains were held by an arbitrary and precarious tenure. There was no longer a possibility either of concerted action or of successful individual exertion among these mutually jealous and disorganized communities. North of the Sierra Morena, south of the Strait of Gibraltar, two great powers, equal in valor, distinct in nationality, antagonistic in religion, urged on alike by the fierce passions of fanaticism and avarice, were fast converging to a common centre,—the smiling plains of Andalusia. It was no longer a question whether the disrupted remains of the khalifate were to be Edrisite, Slave, or Amiride. The choice was now to be made between two masters, and it must be speedily determined whether Spain was to become Berber or Castilian.

The emergency admitted of no delay. So pressing indeed was it, that a national and universal emigration was seriously discussed. Any evil was deemed preferable to the persecutions and outrages of the Christian soldiery. Since his occupation of Toledo, the military operations of Alfonso had evinced a wider and more portentous activity. His resources had been materially augmented. His army was almost doubled by the foreign mercenaries and adventurers who flocked to his standard. His arrogance increased in a direct ratio to his territorial acquisitions. He assumed the title of emperor, which had no foundation but his own inordinate vanity. He adopted the grandiloquent appellation of Sovereign of the Men of Two Religions, a title whose absurdity was the more apparent inasmuch as his orthodoxy was seriously questioned and his intolerance of the dogmas of Mohammed notorious and proverbial. He at all times made no secret of his intention to place the Moorish provinces of the Peninsula under the Castilian sceptre as soon as his martial preparations had been completed.

To understand the course of subsequent events, it is now necessary to turn to the continent of Africa, where an ominous political and religious revolution had obliterated the boundaries of great nations and changed the face and the conditions of society.

In the Desert of Sahara, south of ancient Numidia, there existed from time immemorial a race of nomadic warriors who traced a doubtful genealogy to the inhabitants of Yemen, in Arabia. The western part of the Desert was inhabited by the Lamtounah, a division of this race, affiliated by ties of tribal connection and intimacy with the Sanhadjah, who, from the time of the conquest of Musa, had been prominent in the wars and seditions of Al-Maghreb and Spain. The Lamtounah, with their kindred, belonged to the Berber nation, and pursued the primitive avocations of a pastoral life. In addition to their flocks, they maintained large numbers of ostriches and camels, which constituted the bulk of their movable possessions. Their food was camel’s flesh and milk; the barren sands of the Desert afforded no encouragement to the operations of agriculture, and the tribes of the Sahara were wholly unacquainted with the culture and the enjoyment of the products of the soil. The seclusion of their country, rarely penetrated by traders, who could find among such an uncivilized people few objects of barter, kept them in ignorance of the most ordinary commodities of life; of its luxuries they had no conception; and when, at rare intervals, a loaf of bread came into their hands through the medium of some generous traveller, it was regarded as a great curiosity. These nomads differed both in mental and physical characteristics from their neighbors. They were more fierce, more haughty, more brave. Their religion was idolatrous, slightly veneered with a spurious and corrupt Islamism; for, although the principal maxims of the Mussulman faith were not unfamiliar to the most intelligent, the great mass of the population knew little and cared less about the mission and the precepts of the Prophet of Mecca. The Lamtounah were tall and handsome, the men being models of strength and symmetry, while the women possessed unusual charms of person and manner. The swarthy complexion ordinarily associated with the inhabitants of Africa was absent from the Berbers of the Sahara, whose skins, where not exposed to the scorching rays of the sun, were as white as that of any European. Their garments were of blue and striped cotton or of the tanned hide of the antelope. A terrible and mysterious aspect was imparted to their faces by the practice of covering them below the eyes with a pendent cloth, which, like a veil, protected the features and the respiration of the wearer from the heat and the sand-storms of the Desert. Their sandals were of black leather, attached to the foot by scarlet fastenings curiously embroidered with gold. Of their weapons,—identical with those used so effectively by the Numidian horsemen of Sallust,—the lance and the javelin were the most commonly employed; the scimetar and the poniard were reserved for the emergencies of a hand-to-hand encounter. The courage of these barbarians was proverbial from the highest antiquity; their subjugation had never been seriously attempted by any conqueror; they had defied the power of Carthage, repulsed the desultory attacks of the Arabs, and confronted with inflexible resolution the arms and the discipline of the Roman legions under both the Consuls and the Emperors.

A certain chieftain, Yahya-Ibn-Ibrahim, belonging to the tribe of Djidala, a subdivision of the Lamtounah, and a zealous but ignorant Moslem, performed, through motives of curiosity and devotion, about the year 1036, the pilgrimage to the Holy Cities of Arabia enjoined upon his sect, but rare among his countrymen. The simple pilgrim, to whom the world outside of the limited area of the Desert was even by report wholly unknown, was astonished and delighted with the revelations and experiences of civilized life. While on his return, he attended the lectures of a learned and celebrated theologian and scholar, named Abu-Amram, whose eloquence daily attracted great audiences in the court of the principal mosque of Kairoan. The enraptured attention of the new disciple awakened the curiosity of the lecturer; he inquired the nationality, the sect, and the tribe of the attentive auditor; and learned with surprise and regret of the religious ignorance of the countrymen of the latter, whose credulity and favorable disposition seemed, on the other hand, to promise an easy and enduring conversion. Inspired by the fervent zeal of a proselyte, Yahya requested of his teacher that one of his followers might be selected to accompany him to expound to the benighted tribes of the Sahara the doctrines and the duties of Islam. The proposal was made to the assembly; but the perils of the journey and the uncertainty of its issue caused even the most zealous to hesitate; while the exaggerated ferocity of the Berbers, to whom the most shocking cruelties were popularly attributed, caused the students of Kairoan to shrink from exposure to the sufferings and glories of voluntary martyrdom. But in the distant province of Sus-al-Aksa, where Yahya repaired under the instructions of Abu-Amram, a missionary was found who signified his willingness to penetrate the unknown region, at the risk of liberty and life and to brave the prejudices of a race of savages, for the sake of imparting the sacred instructions of the Koran. The name of this zealot was Abdallah-Ibn-Jahsim. Possessed of great erudition, an eloquent orator, a practised controversialist, he was, in all respects, admirably qualified for the task he had undertaken. His familiarity with the various dialects of the Berber tongue and his knowledge of human nature obtained by travel in many lands, combined with a graceful address and winning manners, at once gained for him the attention and the esteem of his new associates. His discourses were listened to with mingled curiosity and veneration. His disciples multiplied by thousands. The most influential chieftains were charmed by his eloquence; and the fame of the accomplished messenger of Islam soon extended from the Mediterranean and the Atlantic to the outermost limits of the Desert. His calling, and the amazing success with which it was prosecuted among a people naturally credulous, were not long in investing him with mysterious and supernatural attributes; the intimate association of divine inspiration and royal authority always existing in the minds of the nomads of Africa and Asia raised him still higher in the public estimation; while the voluntary allegiance of tribal dignitaries, and the fanatical devotion of multitudes of proselytes, heralded the foundation of a new spiritual and temporal empire.

The example of his Prophet could not fail, under the circumstances, to suggest to the mind of the reformer the most flattering dreams of ambition. By every expedient of political ingenuity he tightened his grasp upon the superstitious myriads who already adored him. His rigid austerities edified the devout. The simplicity of his attire, the plainness of his table, and the regularity of his habits served to effectually disguise the lofty aspirations which he cherished in secret. He boldly assumed the hazardous authority of appointing the sheiks of the various tribes, an office heretofore elective and jealously guarded by the barbarians as an essential indication and guaranty of independence. He aroused the cupidity and fanaticism of his auditors by enumerating the spoils to be obtained from the infidel, by representing the merits of perpetual warfare, and by delineating, with all the embellishments of Oriental hyperbole, the sensual pleasures of the Mohammedan paradise. At length the desired consolidation of the tribes of the Desert was complete. The portentous union of implicit faith and unhesitating obedience had been accomplished; and, for hundreds of leagues throughout the Sahara, hosts of redoubtable and eager warriors impatiently awaited the signal for action. Their numbers were enormous. Their fanaticism was blind, furious, irresistible. Their strength and dexterity were so great that it was a trifling feat for one of them to completely transfix a horse with a lance or to cleave his rider to the saddle with a single blow of the scimetar. With such potent auxiliaries it was not impossible to conquer a world.

The denizens of the Atlas were the first to experience the power of the newly-organized empire. The courage of these mountaineers and the natural defences of their country had enabled them to repulse the cavalry of Musa, and that skilful general had been compelled to tolerate the presumption of a race which the experience of military commanders had for centuries pronounced invincible. But the mountain tribes were unable to sustain their well-merited reputation in the face of the followers of Abdallah. They were driven from the plains. Their haunts were invaded, and fastnesses heretofore considered inaccessible were penetrated by the swarming legions of the Desert. Their flocks were swept away. Their families were borne into slavery. Finally, broken in spirit, they acknowledged the divine mission of the reformer; repeated with superstitious and unmeaning reverence the formula of the Mussulman creed; accepted with meek submission the political superiority of the Lamtounah; and contributed a considerable reinforcement to the already formidable army of the conqueror.

Abdallah did not long enjoy the substantial fruits of his victories. He was killed in a skirmish twenty-two years after the commencement of his public career as a missionary, and the government and destiny of the Berber nation devolved on Abu-Bekr-Ibn-Omar, Emir of the Lamtounah, whose appointment had been dictated by the authority of Abdallah himself. Abu-Bekr, while not aspiring to the divine character assumed by his predecessor, was none the less fortunate in prosecuting his designs of conquest. He invaded and subdued the ancient kingdom of the Edrisites, and incorporated it into his vast dominions. He occupied, in turn, the capitals of Fez and Mequinez, and, dissatisfied with their surroundings, or craving distinction in a new field, he began the construction of the city of Morocco as a residence for the dynasty he had founded. Summoned unexpectedly to the borders of the Desert to suppress a rebellion, he left the administration of the empire in the hands of his cousin, Yusuf-Ibn-Tashfin. This chieftain, destined to enduring celebrity as the deliverer and conqueror of Spain, had already passed the term of middle life. His person was agreeable, his manners fascinating, his reputation for valor and capacity unsurpassed. He constantly practised, without effort or ostentation, the abstemious habits of his nomadic ancestry. The devout and the indigent received with grateful acknowledgments the frequent tokens of his charity and benevolence. In the high station which his birth and talents had secured for him he had always acted as a wise and discriminating ruler. His character was, however, obscured by many degrading vices, and, under the mask of a political ascetic, he concealed the sinister designs of a calculating and unscrupulous ambition. The opportunity for personal advancement now offered him was eminently congenial with the dark and perfidious maxims of policy which regulated his conduct. By judicious donations he courted and secured the favor of the army. The populace was profoundly edified by the sight of their prince working daily, like a common laborer, on the mosque of the rising capital. The fame of the new city, the extent of its plan, the rapidity of its construction, the splendor of its edifices, the abundance of its waters, the beauty of its gardens, attracted from every quarter of Northern Africa a numerous and enterprising population. On a commanding eminence at the northern extremity stood the palace and citadel, fortified by all the art of foreign engineers. The protracted absence of Abu-Bekr by degrees obliterated the remembrance of his rights from the minds of a people to whom his person was unfamiliar; and his authority was soon eclipsed by the increasing popularity and influence of an ambitious subordinate who aspired to absolute independence. Not content with despoiling his cousin of his throne, Yusuf even appropriated his favorite wife; and the lovely Zeinab, a woman of great talents and beauty, not unwilling to exchange the neglect of an absent lord for the immediate prospect of love and empire, passed without a sigh into the harem of the daring usurper. Aware of the vital importance of preserving the affection of his followers, Yusuf lavished upon them the most expensive garments, horses, and armor; his bodyguard, equally composed of Christian captives and negro slaves, resplendent in silks and jewels, was daily exercised in the rapid and bewildering evolutions peculiar to the cavalry of the Desert; and less than one year after the departure of Abu-Bekr, a hundred thousand warriors, impelled by a blind fanaticism and who revered their leader almost as a divinity, stood ready, at an instant’s notice, to respond to his call to arms.

At length, after many months, Abu-Bekr returned to his capital. Long before he reached it, his ears were saluted with the rumors of the quiet revolution which had virtually deprived him of his consort and his crown. The satisfaction he derived from the triumphant issue of the expedition, the fond anticipations he cherished of the joyous acclamations of his subjects and of the affectionate embraces of his wife, were obscured by sad and gloomy apprehensions. He heard with wonder of the prodigious growth and opulence of the city he had so recently founded. His credulity was taxed by the marvellous accounts of its mansions and its suburbs; of the vast revenues collected and expended by the imperial treasury; of the magnificence of the court; of the numbers and equipment of the army. Soon the emissaries of Yusuf secretly penetrated his camp. His soldiers were corrupted with rich bribes and the assurance of booty or promotion, and, their loyalty once shaken, they awaited with impatience the signal for desertion or mutiny. These intrigues and their inevitable tendency could not be concealed from the unfortunate Abu-Bekr. Aware that resistance or reproach would cost him his life, he wisely resolved to dissemble his feelings and accept his fate. By a public and solemn abdication he renounced his rights in favor of Yusuf, and, broken-hearted, retired with a few trusty followers to the solitude of the Desert. The title of the new Sultan of Africa having been thus confirmed by every requisite of inherited prestige and legal authority, he continued to increase the area of his already immense dominions. Far from being satisfied with the growth of his empire, he was scarcely seated on the throne before he began to meditate the invasion of the Spanish Peninsula. The example of Tarik, the demoralized condition of his co-religionists beyond the strait, the menacing attitude of the Christian powers, the prospect of political aggrandizement, the hope of military distinction, the merit of protecting the faith of which he was now the most distinguished exponent,—all these considerations, and others far less praiseworthy, urged the energetic Yusuf to a more glorious career. As a prelude to future operations, he stormed the cities of Tangier and Ceuta, repaired or rebuilt their fortifications, constructed within their walls great magazines and arsenals, and garrisoned them with large bodies of veterans of tried courage and fidelity. His dominions now reached from the eastern boundary of Tunis to the Atlantic, from the Mediterranean to the burning regions of Senegal. No African potentate had ever before wielded such enormous power. No Moslem prince had ever exercised jurisdiction over so extensive a territory. In area and population it greatly exceeded, in civilization and intelligence only was it inferior to, the mighty domination of Carthage. Such was the ruler, and such the empire whose potent aid the distressed Moslems of Andalusia were about to invoke.

It was only after much deliberation that the Hispano-Arab princes determined to adopt the desperate expedient of appealing to Yusuf. The imams and the other ecclesiastical authorities had from the beginning urged this step, foreseeing, through its acceptance, a certain accession to their professional importance and a probable augmentation of their political power. But the sovereigns, who cared more for the possession of their thrones, precarious though that might be, than for the reformation of their faith or the exaltation of its ministers, were loath to admit into their dominions a conqueror flushed with victory and supported by the vast treasures and the innumerable hordes of Northern and Central Africa. But, unhappily, no other alternative remained. Rumors of the great preparations of Alfonso increased day by day, and at length the question was decided by Motamid, who resolutely declared, when the danger of inviting the Berbers was enlarged on by his courtiers, “If it is the will of Allah that I should be deprived of my kingdom and become the slave of a foreigner, I would far rather be a camel-driver in Africa than a swineherd in Castile.”

The preponderating influence of the lord of Seville overcame the indecision of the other Moorish princes, and the kadis of Granada, Badajoz, and Cordova, duly empowered to act as ambassadors with the vizier of Motamid, repaired to the court of Yusuf. The enterprise was agreeable to the ambitious designs of the Sultan of Africa, but he insisted upon the transfer of the island of Algeziras as an indispensable condition of the alliance. This the envoys having neither the authority nor the inclination to grant, matters remained in suspense until the influence of his religious advisers, who exercised a singular ascendant over the mind of Yusuf, urged him to seize the island if its possession was refused to him. A hundred vessels suddenly set sail from Ceuta, and a great force landed at Algeziras. The possession of the place was peremptorily demanded by the general of the African army; the governor refused compliance; and hostilities were only prevented by a timely order from Seville requiring the evacuation of the city by the Moorish commander. Yusuf soon arrived with his guards; the citadel was put in the best possible condition for defence; the magazines were replenished; and every means adopted for the strengthening and preservation of a fortress so essential to secure reinforcements or to protect the retreat of an invading army. Under such sinister auspices did the Almoravides, or Wearers of the Veil, first set foot on Spain. The occupation of Algeziras, recognized by both Moor and Berber as permanent and equivalent to the practical surrender of the key of Andalusia to a foreign government, portended even to the most careless observer the speedy dissolution of the Saracen power.

Yusuf was received near Seville by Motamid with the honors due to his exalted rank; and the treasury of the latter was almost exhausted by the splendid gifts with which he endeavored to propitiate the favor and secure the attachment of his dangerous ally. Such was his liberality that every soldier of the Almoravide army received a present, a proceeding which, in view of the weakness of the government and the exaggerated idea of its resources which it conveyed, was, to say the least, highly impolitic.

The rulers of the various states of Andalusia contributed all the troops which could possibly be spared from their small and ill-appointed armies, and the allied forces, amounting to nearly twenty thousand men, proceeded northward in search of the enemy. Meanwhile, the King of Castile had not been idle. The siege of Saragossa, which had for months engaged his attention and consumed the energies of his impatient followers, was hastily raised. Orders were despatched to every vassal to repair with his retainers to an appointed rendezvous. The bold peasantry of the Pyrenees were exhorted by religious emissaries to imitate the glorious example of their ancestors, who had preserved, amidst the most discouraging circumstances, their national faith and their political liberties. A formidable contingent of French cavaliers, whom the prospect of booty and the love of adventure had attracted to the Castilian standards, materially strengthened by their numbers and their prowess the confidence and the enthusiasm of the Christians. On the plain of Zallaca, in the province of Badajoz, the hostile forces were marshalled in menacing array. The devout prejudices of the Catholic king were insulted by an imperious summons from Yusuf to renounce his belief or pay tribute to the representative of Islam. A lengthy answer couched in the grandiloquent style of the age and ending with an expression of defiance was returned to this menacing epistle; the armies encamped within sight of each other; and, in compliance with the practice of those chivalrous times, the day of battle was appointed by mutual consent. The messengers of Alfonso suggested the second day from that date, which would be Saturday; the choice was approved by the unsuspecting Africans; but the astuteness of the experienced officers of Motamid detected in this plausible arrangement the evidences of a deep-laid and dangerous stratagem. The Andalusians, who formed the advance-guard, were, in such an event, most exposed to a surprise, and the fate of the entire army depended, in fact, on their vigilance. No precaution was overlooked. The sentinels were doubled. Patrols made frequent rounds along the lines. The soldiers were admonished to sleep upon their arms. Reconnoitring parties were sent to report the slightest signs of unusual activity in the enemy’s camp. It was not without cause that a universal feeling of anxiety pervaded the Moslem army. Upon the result of the impending conflict hung all that was dear to the soldiers of Islam,—their fortunes, their liberties, their lives, and their religion. The prospect was far from encouraging. The enemy had the advantage in numbers, in organization, in discipline. Their forces, sixty thousand in all, exceeded those of the Mussulmans in the overwhelming proportion of three to one. The Castilians were superior in the strength of their horses, in the character of their weapons, in the weight and temper of their armor. Conspicuous among them were the French knights completely sheathed in glittering steel. The Christians were, to a man, warriors tried in many a bloody fray; they were animated by a common purpose and obedient to a single commander; and they considered the enterprise in which they had embarked as one peculiarly favored by Heaven. Their zeal was inflamed daily by distinguished prelates, whose presence imparted additional sanctity to a crusade nominally waged for the glory and the propagation of the Faith. On the eve of battle, these ecclesiastical counsellors, in all the splendor of full canonicals, harangued the ranks of the soldiery; and not infrequently were they to be found, like the members of the ancient Visigothic hierarchy, contending with carnal weapons in the heat and peril of deadly conflict, where their words of sympathy brought composure and hope to the dying, and their consecrated hands performed, with its impressive ceremonial, the last solemn rites of the Church for the dead. Despite the weakness of faith characteristic of the military profession, and especially marked in the minds of soldiers of fortune, the exhortations and labors of the Spanish clergy played no inconsiderable part in the Reconquest. No matter how skeptical a Castilian prince might be on inconvenient points of doctrine,—and few in that age were sincerely devout,—they rarely neglected the punctilious observance of the ritual of the Church, and, what was even more indispensable in the eyes of the clergy, the constant and liberal support of its ministers.