Chapter XII: Reign of Abd-Al-Rahman III (2)

Sancho appears to have been a prince of ability and resolution, but his ideas of the royal prerogative were too decided for his age. Ambitious to enjoy the arbitrary rights which had been conferred by the ancient Visigothic system, he bent all his efforts to the suppression of the aristocracy, and, what was more dangerous still, neglected to conciliate the ecclesiastical order, whose wealth, and the veneration with which it was regarded, would have made it a dangerous antagonist for any monarch. The experiment, always a hazardous one, was doubly so in the case of Sancho, to whom fortune had denied those personal characteristics which elicit the applause or captivate the attention of mankind. An excessive and increasing obesity rendered him incapable of locomotion without assistance, and he had long since found it impossible to mount a horse. Among an active and athletic people whose trade was war, whose pastimes were found in the chase and the field, and with whom all martial exercises were at once a pleasure and a necessity, the spectacle of a helpless monarch, like Sancho the Fat, was one calculated to excite only sentiments of the deepest contempt. But when to this physical disadvantage were added an arrogant and despotic bearing and an ill-concealed intention to retrench the privileges of the nobility, whose members considered themselves, by reason of the theoretically elective character of the crown, almost equal in dignity, as many of them were superior in prowess, to the princes of the reigning house, the disdain of the subjects of Sancho was changed into apprehension lest the unwieldy monarch who excited their ridicule might ultimately develop into a merciless tyrant. A plot, to which Ferdinand Gonzalez, the professional agitator of the time, was a party, was formed; Sancho was compelled to take refuge in Navarre; and Ordoño IV., a hunchback, whose base and servile nature corresponded with the deformity of his person, was raised to the Leonese throne. Received with every demonstration of sympathy by his grandmother, the martial Tota,--the virtual ruler of Navarre who, for thirty years, had tried with various success the fortune of war with the emirs of Cordova,--Sancho experienced little difficulty in obtaining the promise of her aid in the recovery of his crown. But Navarre, a mountainous and thinly peopled region, was now exhausted by continued hostilities, and, indeed, had never been strong enough to cope unaided with the more extensive kingdom of Leon. An alliance with some foreign power was therefore an indispensable requisite for the successful prosecution of the design. In the formation of this alliance no choice was possible. One monarch alone, the Ommeyade Khalif, whose resources were sufficient to accomplish the desired end, could be approached, and that monarch was separated from the Navarrese queen by the remembrance of all the outrages of incessant warfare, of the enslavement and decapitation of thousands of her subjects, as well as by the barrier of a hostile faith, whose ill-comprehended and purposely distorted tenets were the abomination of every Christian. Other considerations rendered the present concession to the demands of a detested adversary even more galling. The warlike princess had commanded the Navarrese at the rout of Alhandega. She had seen the pride of the Ommeyades abased. She had trailed their banner in the dust. Multitudes of captives and incalculable spoil had attested the prowess of her subjects. The greatest of the Moslem sovereigns had fled before her arms. The emergency, however, admitted of no alternative, and demanded the sacrifice of pride and the oblivion of past injuries, which, in the eyes of Tota, were eclipsed by the present outrage upon her family. Another motive impelled her to have recourse to Abd-al-Rahman. The infirmity of Sancho was certainly not constitutional, and perhaps was not incurable. The reputation of the Jewish and Arab physicians for learning and skill was unequalled in the world, and the most eminent practitioners of that calling were residents of Cordova. It was evident from the experience of Sancho that the recovery of his health was an indispensable condition of his restoration to power. Sacrificing her prejudices to imperative necessity, and with a reluctance she could ill conceal, Tota despatched a formal embassy to the capital of the khalifate.

Abd-al-Rahman received the envoys of the Queen of Navarre with distinguished courtesy, and directed them to announce to their royal mistress that he would at once send an ambassador to her court, who would prescribe the conditions under which he would accede to her requests.

The Jew Hasdai was the agent designated by the Khalif to discharge the duties incident to this important mission. One of the most adroit and experienced negotiators of the time, the versatile genius of Hasdai had enabled him to attain to almost as exalted a rank in the profession of medicine as he had reached in the arts of diplomacy. He was further qualified for the post by his enjoyment of the confidence of his sovereign; by his thorough acquaintance with foreign tongues, including the idiom of the Christians; and by his vast erudition and elegant manners, which fascinated all with whom he came in contact. The occasion was one that required an emissary of more than ordinary ability. The instructions of Hasdai included a demand for the cession of ten fortresses in the territory of Leon, to be made as soon as the usurper had been expelled; and that Sancho himself, his uncle Garcia,--the nominal King of Navarre, in whose name Tota exercised the royal authority,--and the Queen should come in person to Cordova and sign the treaty. While no material objection was interposed to the first condition, in the discussion of the second it required all the address of Hasdai to overcome the repugnance of Tota to the humiliation that such a step implied. Finally, however, the eloquence and craft of the envoy prevailed, and, attended by a numerous company of ecclesiastics and nobles, the three Christian monarchs began their tedious journey. Their passage through the Moslem dominions was attended with every manifestation of public curiosity that such an extraordinary circumstance could excite. Immense crowds lined the highways. Cities and villages were emptied of their population, whose dense masses often seriously interfered with the progress of the escort. The arrival of the sovereigns at Cordova was signalized by a magnificent reception, more appropriate to victorious allies than to petitioners for the recovery of a throne. But the tact of the Khalif led him to disguise, as far as possible, the humiliating character he had compelled his guests to assume; and his dignity was at the same time enhanced by the exhibition of that opulence and grandeur which the occasion enabled him to display. The treaty was duly signed, and it was concerted between the parties that the power of the khalifate should be directed against Leon, while the forces of Navarre made simultaneously a diversion towards Castile, to prevent the co-operation of Count Ferdinand with the enemy.

No event of his long and brilliant reign did more to increase the prestige and strengthen the authority of the famous Moslem ruler than this stroke of profound policy. The enthusiasm of the people was unbounded. The feuds of centuries were, for the moment, forgotten in the indulgence of the feelings of national pride and exultation. The Jewish and Moslem poets contended with each other in celebrating a triumph without parallel in the annals of Islam, and lauded the fortune and the glory of a prince whose achievements had humbled the pride of the common enemy of their respective sects.

Meanwhile, the medical skill of the accomplished Hasdai had perceptibly reduced the enormous bulk which had virtually cost the unfortunate Sancho his crown, and, by the time the Moslem army was ready to march, he had fully recovered his former lightness and activity. The campaign was of short duration. City after city was taken; the entire kingdom renounced the usurper, and Ordoño was driven into the Asturias. The expedition of the Navarrese was attended with equal success. Ferdinand’s army was beaten, and he himself taken prisoner. The mountaineers now refused to shelter any longer a dethroned monarch whose personal character rendered him unworthy of their sympathy, and Ordoño was compelled to flee into Castile.

This decisive campaign was the last of the warlike enterprises of the great Abd-al-Rahman. An imprudent exposure brought on an attack of pulmonary disease, which defied the skill of the ablest physicians, and, after an illness of several months, the most renowned sovereign who had occupied the Ommeyade throne of the West expired at the age of seventy years.

His reign lacked but a few weeks of reaching the extraordinary length of half a century. His deeds, however well authenticated, seem almost to pass the bounds of human credulity. When he received the sceptre, the regal authority was scarcely recognized within the narrow circuit of the walls of the capital. When that sceptre fell from his palsied grasp, the haughty descendants of the Visigoths, the champions of the Christian faith, the hitherto invincible mountaineers whose pride and bigotry exceeded even their valor, were his devoted vassals and tributaries. The most formidable rebellion that had ever afflicted the Peninsula--a rebellion of thirty years’ standing--was crushed. The physical traces of that long and disastrous struggle were removed; the hatred which sprang from it, more implacable than even the aversion of sect to sect, was allayed. A foreign invasion which threatened not only the destruction of his race, but the extirpation of all knowledge and all civilization, was checked, and a long respite given to the cause of science and the avocations of peace. His predecessor bequeathed to him an uncertain revenue drawn from a precarious tribute; his own genius, besides providing for the enormous expenses of government, for the construction of great public improvements, and for the demands of a luxury without precedent in its extravagance, was still enabled to leave in the public treasury a sum equal to a hundred million dollars.

A powerful navy assured the safety of the coast from foreign attack, and permitted the development of a commerce whose agents had already established themselves in every province of Europe, Africa, and Asia. As a result of this extensive trade, the bazaars of the Andalusian cities abounded with objects of luxury, whose existence had hitherto been unsuspected by the isolated population of the Peninsula. The effects of this intimate and constant intercourse with many nations were, moreover, disclosed by a marked refinement of manners, by an increased degree of mental activity, by a high appreciation of the benefits conferred by the possession of learning, and by the emancipation of the human mind from those theological prejudices which, in every age, have been at once the cause and the evidence of a condition of abject intellectual servitude.

The fame of Abd-al-Rahman had penetrated the most remote and barbarous regions of the globe. Princes of every rank in friendly rivalry endeavored, by every resource of munificence and adulation, to secure his friendship and promote his interests. Splendid embassies, bearing rare and priceless gifts, were frequently seen in the streets of the capital. The most remarkable of these was one despatched by Constantine Porphryogenitus, the Byzantine emperor, whose pride made him ambitious to surpass, in the superb appointments and pompous ceremonial of his representatives, the reputed magnificence of his distant ally. But exhibiting, as it did, all the evidences of the opulence and grandeur of the master of the Eastern Empire, the embassy of Constantine was eclipsed by the gorgeous blaze of the Ommeyade Court. Its reception recalled the extravagant tales of Oriental romance. The approaches to the palace were lined with the guards of the Khalif, whose gay uniforms, burnished armor, and jewel-hilted scimetars glittered in the dazzling rays of an Andalusian sun. Beautiful awnings of silk were suspended over court-yard and archway. The halls of the Alcazar were hung with cloth of gold and silver, and with tapestry whose folds exhibited intricate patterns of the most exquisite arabesques. Through gardens of aromatic plants, through colonnades of many-colored marble, over floors of polished mosaic, the envoys were conducted to the audience chamber. Here were seated the Khalif and the members of his family, while ranged around them stood the great civil and military dignitaries of the empire, the chiefs of the eunuchs, the officials of the royal household. After a profound obeisance, the ambassadors presented the letter of their sovereign. It was of sky-blue parchment, inscribed with letters of gold. The seal was also of the same precious metal; it bore on one side the effigy of the Saviour, and on the other the medallions of Constantine and his son. The letter was enclosed in a golden box carved with wondrous skill, and it, in turn, was placed in a case enveloped in tissue of silk and gold. On the lid of this case was a mosaic portrait of the Greek emperor.

In order to impress the ambassadors with the talents and literary acquirements of his courtiers, as well as to do them honor, the Khalif had appointed a famous orator and poet to pronounce an address of welcome, which should, at the same time, exalt the glories of his reign and the grandeur of his empire. But the august presence in which he found himself, and the consciousness of his inability to do justice to his subject, so affected the impressible nature of the chosen exponent of the eloquence of Cordova that he was unable to utter a single word. Then the Khalif called upon one after another of the wise men at his side, whose skill in improvisation had heretofore never failed them, to greet the Grecian embassy, but they also were silent. At last, unsolicited, a Persian, named Mondhir-Ibn-Said, a recent arrival at the court, arose, and repeated some appropriate and extemporaneous verses, full of the glowing images and extravagant metaphors which are the delight of the passionate Oriental. When he concluded, neither the presence of royalty, nor the stately and dignified etiquette of the court, could repress the applause of the delighted audience, and the Khalif recompensed the fortunate poet with a purse of gold, and at once appointed him--for he was learned in the law--Chief Kadi of Cordova. The envoys, having received every attention in the power of their generous host, were dismissed, accompanied by a vizier charged to offer, in the name of the Khalif, a number of splendid horses, arms, and coats of mail to the Byzantine emperor.

The account of another embassy of an entirely different character which arrived some time afterwards is instructive, as affording a curious picture of the manners of the time. The Khalif having formed, from the accounts of mendacious travellers, an exaggerated idea of the extent and resources of Germany, and desirous of opening diplomatic relations with that power, sent to Otho, the son of Henry the Fowler, a letter, accompanied with the usual presents. The chief of the embassy, a Mozarabic bishop, perished on the journey, and the missive was delivered by his companions, who were ignorant of its contents. The pride of Abd-al-Rahman had permitted him to incorporate into his letter expressions which were not complimentary to the Trinitarian belief, or, as the chronicle suggestively remarks, “in it the German emperor was much better treated than the God of the Christians,” trusting to the tact of the bishop to soothe any irritation that might arise from its perusal. Otho, having read it, in the absence of all explanation, naturally construed the language of the Moslem as a deliberate insult to his religion, treated the envoys with marked indignity, removed them from the precincts of the court, and for three years wholly ignored their presence, except to restrain them of their liberty.

Then he determined to retaliate in kind. A letter was drawn up by the Archbishop of Cologne, in which the vocabularies of profane and ecclesiastical abuse were exhausted in search of epithets to be heaped upon Mohammed. A messenger was now sought to convey this scurrilous epistle, for, while many could be found who were willing to write it, few were inclined to run the risk attending its delivery; for it was well known that among the Moslems vituperation of the Prophet was inexorably punished with death. Finally, John de Gorza, a fanatic monk, whose austere life had obtained for him a reputation for unusual piety, voluntarily offered himself as a candidate for the perilous duty which almost necessarily involved the penalty of martyrdom. His services were accepted in default of those of an ambassador of superior dignity, and three ecclesiastics of equal rank were selected to accompany him, and to share the doubtful fortunes of the enterprise. All arrangements having been completed, this singular embassy set forth from the court of Otho with but slight probability of its return. Arrived without accident at Cordova, the monks were detained in one of the suburbs pending the negotiation which Abd-al-Rahman deemed it proper to enter into with them touching the offensive letter of the emperor, whose contents were no secret at the Mussulman court. The Khalif found himself placed in an unpleasant dilemma. The law was severely explicit concerning the treatment of such as blasphemed the name of Mohammed. Should the envoys deliver the letter of Otho, responsibility would attach to their act as the representatives of their sovereign, and yet their execution would be, in the eyes of the world, a serious violation of the law of nations. Every effort was made to induce John de Gorza to retain the letter and present only the gifts which accompanied it. The services of the shrewdest diplomatists of the court were enlisted for this purpose. But the stubborn fanatic, in whom the splendors of the Moslem empire aroused only a feeling of disdain, was not to be convinced by the insinuating arts nor intimidated by the menaces of the emissaries of the Khalif. The difficulty was at length adjusted by John de Gorza consenting to apply to his royal master for another letter to be substituted for the objectionable one in his possession. This was done, and, after a delay of eighteen months, preparations were made for the reception of the embassy. Now, however, a fresh obstacle was interposed by the obstinacy of monkish prejudice. The rigorous etiquette, as well as the elegance and decorum of the Moslem court, were insulted by the coarse and tattered garments and uncleanly appearance of the German envoy. Attributing his condition to poverty, the Khalif sent him a large sum of money to be expended in procuring suitable clothing. True to his profession, the unselfish anchorite at once bestowed the whole amount in alms upon the poor. The Khalif, unable to repress his admiration for the consistent and uncompromising character of the bold ecclesiastic, exclaimed, “By Allah! were he only clothed with a bag, I will see him.”

Introduced with every form of ceremonious courtesy into the presence of the most brilliant court in Europe, John de Gorza, unawed by the majesty of the monarch and apparently unimpressed by the new and dazzling scenes that met his eye, bore himself with a calm dignity and self-possession little to be expected from his previous conduct; and Abd-al-Rahman, greatly pleased with his candor and humility, accorded him before his departure the unusual distinction of a private audience, and finally dismissed him with every token of honor and esteem.

This period is remarkable for the success of a handful of adventurers, who, in the closing years of the preceding century, had established themselves on the coast of France, and whose enterprise, had they received substantial aid from the government of Cordova, might have affected, in no small degree, the ultimate fate of Christian Europe.

In the year 889, a band of twenty Moorish pirates were driven by a tempest into the Gulf of Grimaud, which washes the shores of Lower Provence. Their predatory habits tempted them to explore the adjacent country; a village was surprised and plundered; and further investigation convinced them of the advantages which chance had thrown in their way for the foundation of a permanent colony. It was indeed an ideal spot for a robber stronghold. The commerce of the Northern Mediterranean was within easy reach. The harbor was retired and capacious. Lofty mountains covered with dense forests surrounded it. From their summits could be discerned the highly-cultivated plains of France, for generations free from the inroads of the marauder, whose inhabitants, ruled by a succession of incapable princes, were wholly destitute of the martial spirit which supplies the neglect of royal protection in a hardy peasantry, and who had been long unaccustomed to the use of arms. Near at hand were the Alps, through whose unguarded passes access was obtainable to the smiling valleys and rich cities of Italy, a country which has been the goal of every military adventurer of Western Europe in both ancient and modern times.

The Moslem freebooters lost no time in apprising their friends and comrades of their discovery. Recruits from Spain, Sicily, and Africa daily swelled their ranks. It was not long before a score of castles--each the seat of a marauding chieftain--crowned the heights overlooking the Gulf of Grimaud and the Forest of Fraxinet. With profound sagacity, these enterprising bandits sold their support to the feudal barons, whose quarrels perpetually vexed the petty states of Provence, always choosing the weakest for their allies. Thus they held the balance of power, and, enriched by the plunder of civil war, acquired each year a larger measure of influence and importance. Their relentless cruelty gave them a weight out of all proportion to their numbers or their valor. Their excesses were the terror of the peasantry. By the end of the ninth century, they had crossed the Alps, threatened Turin, destroyed many monasteries, and laid waste the plains of Montferrat and Piedmont. They established themselves on the Po. In 935 they had advanced to the borders of Liguria. Their depredations extended as far as the city of Genoa. The passes of Mount Cenis and Mount St. Bernard were in their hands. From their strongholds in the Alps they stopped all traffic and levied contributions on every traveller. They carried their arms into Switzerland, and penetrated to the shores of Lake Constance. They burned churches and abbeys under the walls of Marseilles. The city of Nice still bears, in the name of one of its quarters, a souvenir of Saracen occupation.

In France, by reason of its proximity to their colony and the greater facilities it offered to their movements, their incursions were more frequent and disastrous. Much of the level country was depopulated. In the strongest cities alone was security to be found. Almost the entire territory of Provence, Languedoc, and Dauphiné was at one time subject to the visitations of this awful scourge. So strongly had these daring banditti intrenched themselves in the mountains of Southwestern Europe, that the princes in whose dominions they were found were unable to dislodge them. It is hinted by Liutprand that the embassy of John de Gorza had for its principal object the cessation of their ravages, through the intervention of the Khalif, a statement by no means improbable.

Be this as it may, it was not long after that event that the power of the Moslem colonists began to decline. For a time the influx of recruits, the appropriation of women, and the institution of polygamous households threatened a superiority in numbers as well as in arms, and a permanency of occupation, conditions whose danger had been exemplified by the Arab conquests in the South. These fears, however, proved without foundation. The Christians gradually recovered their ground. Castle after castle fell before their assaults. Dependent upon their own efforts, the Moslem pirates could not sustain the combined attack made upon them from every side, and, before the death of Abd-al-Rahman, they had lost their influence as a disturbing force in those countries which they had for three-quarters of a century made the scene of their depredations.

The operations of these chieftains were never divested of the character of brigandage. Except in time of common danger, they acted independently of each other. The permanent success which is derived from a union of forces and concerted political action never attended their arms. Yet, without organization and deprived of the support of any foreign government, they maintained their footing in a hostile territory for nearly a hundred years. Their only resources were the plunder they obtained from their neighbors. Their only recruits were adventurers like themselves, attracted by the hope of booty. Their harems were filled by their forays, and their race propagated at the expense of the enemy. No chronicle, Christian or Arab, explicitly states that they were even countenanced, still less assisted, by the Khalifate of Cordova. Yet no opportunity so favorable to the extension of the Faith and the conquest of Europe was ever offered to the Spanish Moslems. The strategic importance of these piratical strongholds was far greater than that of the exposed settlements of Septimania. They were easily accessible by sea. With trifling labor they might have been rendered impregnable. They controlled the passes of the Alps. They menaced the great cities of Marseilles, Arles, and Narbonne. As a point of concentration for an invading army their value was indisputable. Difficult of approach, they commanded the rich plains of Provence and Languedoc, of Piedmont and Lombardy. The facility with which their marauding and undisciplined garrisons overran the adjacent provinces as far as Genoa and Grenoble is suggestive of the results which might have been accomplished by the systematic operations of a great military power like that of Abd-al-Rahman III., supported by the resources of the most opulent and warlike nation of the age.

The domestic policy of Abd-al-Rahman gave indications of the same genius that directed his military campaigns and diplomatic negotiations. The exact administration of justice, the vigilance of a numerous and well-appointed police, the supervision of an incorruptible magistracy, guaranteed to every class of society the full enjoyment of the rights of person and property. The prevalence of order and the suppression of crime were no less evident in regions far remote from the seat of government than in the immediate precincts of the capital.

The love of pomp and the prodigal display of luxury kept even pace with the increasing wealth and multiplied resources of the empire. The temples were enriched with the spoils and decorated with the trophies of the churches and monasteries of the infidel. The Great Mosque of the capital was enlarged, its court enclosed with a graceful arcade and cooled by delicious fountains. The palaces and gardens of Cordova surpassed in extent and equalled in magnificence the famous ones of Bagdad and Damascus. In the charming and luxurious retreat of Medina-al-Zahrâ, the Khalif transacted the daily routine of business; received foreign ambassadors; heard and decided contests for literary precedence; determined questions of civil and ecclesiastical law. Entertaining, not without reason, a profound distrust of the Arab element, which composed the most intelligent portion of his subjects, he committed the principal offices of government and entrusted the care of his person to the Mamlouks, or Slaves, a class of servile origin, whose numbers--through royal favor, the possession of marked capacity for affairs, and the habit of implicit obedience--soon rose to extraordinary power and influence in the state. This term was applied at first to captives taken in war by the Arabs themselves, or sold to them by the barbarian nations of Germany. But by degrees the name acquired a more extensive significance, and came to include all persons of foreign birth or base extraction employed in the civil and military service of the khalifate. Almost every nation and tribe from the shores of the Caspian to the western extremities of Lusitania were represented in this important class, the alien birth and dependent character of whose constituents divested them of sympathy with the other subjects of the empire, and assured their unwavering devotion to the interests of their master. From the earliest days of the emirate, an enormous traffic had been carried on in slaves with Christian countries, principally with France and Italy. Its profits, originally monopolized by Jews, were, in time, shared by Christian ecclesiastics; and it has been established by incontrovertible evidence that at least one pope did not disdain to replenish the coffers of the Church by an expedient so prejudicial to the interests of religion and humanity. The monasteries of the South of France were largely devoted to the manufacture of eunuchs; those on the Meuse were also especially celebrated on this account, the unfortunate subjects for mutilation being procured by the monks through the purchase of children from the peasantry. The Slave caste, while it included a considerable proportion of eunuchs, was by no means, however, limited to individuals of that unfortunate class.

Although condemned by adverse fortune to a subordinate and frequently to a humiliating position in the scale of society, the inferiority of the Slave, in this respect, was more than compensated by the authority he exercised, by the wealth he was enabled to accumulate, and by the consideration he enjoyed as the chosen agent of the Khalif in posts of responsibility and confidence. The highest employments were entrusted to these strangers, to the prejudice of the ancient aristocracy whose lineage could be traced to the Pagan guardians of the Kaaba and the Companions of the Prophet. The royal body-guard was entirely composed of Slaves. Introduced into the country at an age when youth is most susceptible to outward impressions, they imbibed, through intimate association, through the influence of example, through religious instruction, and through considerations of personal interest, the habits, the prejudices, and the faith of the Moslems. Some amassed large fortunes in trade. Others rose to important commands in the army. Many maintained establishments which surpassed those of the nobility in pomp and extravagance, and themselves owned multitudes of slaves. Not a few were noted for their scholarly attainments; possessed extensive libraries; participated with credit in the public debates which amused the leisure of the court; and acquired no inconsiderable reputation in the pursuits of literature.

This epoch of Moorish dominion, agitated by foreign war and intestine disturbance, was likewise oppressed by the calamities of nature and the grievous machinations of domestic treason. In the year 915, the Peninsula was visited by a famine of unparalleled severity. A long-continued drought, which defied the skill of the hydraulic engineers and the resources of an irrigating system that was the admiration of Europe, wasted the land. A pestilence followed, as usual, in the wake of the famine. Deprived of all means of subsistence and consumed by disease, the unhappy peasantry perished by thousands. The streets and highways were obstructed with the dying and the dead. The mosques were crowded day and night with suppliants, who implored the pity of a God who seemed to have turned His face in anger from His children. Such was the mortality that the survivors were unable to afford to the deceased the rites of burial. Every effort was exerted by the government to alleviate the public misery, but the distress was so general that the liberality of the Khalif was unable to produce any great improvement in the lamentable condition of his subjects, whose violent measures to obtain the necessaries of life not infrequently required the intervention of military force. The measure of national misfortune was filled by the ruin wrought by a terrible hurricane that swept the coasts of Africa and Andalusia, and by a conflagration that destroyed the larger portion of the capital.

Abd-al-Rahman had two sons, named respectively Al-Hakem and Abdallah. Of these, the first was the heir apparent, who, though greatly esteemed and respected for his noble character and princely virtues, was still generally considered as inferior to his brother in literary ability as well as in those showy qualities and accomplishments which dazzle the eyes of the populace. In an evil hour, the ambitious Abdallah, incited by his friend the theologian Ibn-Abd-al-Barr, was induced to agree to the assassination of Al-Hakem, and a plot was hatched with that end in view. Unhappily for their success, a spy had introduced himself into the councils of the conspirators, and they were secretly arrested. Some were impaled. Ibn-Abd-al-Barr anticipated the executioner by suicide; and Abdallah, in spite of the magnanimous intercession of the injured Al-Hakem, was strangled in prison. The happiness of the Khalif was deeply and permanently affected by a deed in which paternal affection was sacrificed to a sense of public duty; and to the day of his death the memory of the untimely fate of his son constantly haunted his thoughts and imparted to his character a melancholy which no diversion could charm away, and no triumph, however glorious, could entirely efface.

The greatness of the Moslem power in Spain under Abd-al-Rahman III. is to be attributed to the extraordinary administrative capacity of that renowned monarch. The glory in fact is exclusively his own. The attention he paid to the minute details of government was not less marked than the skill with which he directed to a successful issue enterprises of the greatest magnitude and importance. He was the impersonation of imperial despotism. No sovereign of his race had hitherto centred in his person, to the exclusion of all other sources of authority, the prestige, the honor, the dignity of empire. He possessed in a remarkable degree those talents which facilitate the subordination and amalgamation of hostile elements of society long accustomed to anarchy, a task far more difficult than the conquest of great nations. The discernment he exhibited in abolishing all taxes not authorized by the traditional law of Islam acquired for him the public confidence at the very beginning of his reign. The history of that period exhibits a picture of religious toleration in vivid contrast to the revolting crimes perpetrated by the Sees of Constantinople and Rome. So little was this great prince influenced by sectarian prejudice, or even by ordinary considerations of policy, that he was with infinite difficulty dissuaded from appointing to the highest judicial office of the realm a renegade, whose father and mother still belonged to the Christian communion. The assumption of the title of khalif, attended by the alteration in the coinage and the modification of the public prayers in the mosques--acts that confirmed to him the attributes of his new and well-merited dignity--gave him great prominence in the Mohammedan world. The achievements of a quarter of a century certainly entitled him to a distinction which his pride and wisdom now induced him to appropriate, and which was destined to contribute a new and powerful impulse to the civilization of Western Europe. His popularity called forth such multitudes of volunteers. when the Holy War was proclaimed that care had to be taken lest the shops be left without clerks and the fields without laborers.

The reign of Abd-al-Rahman III. is coincident with the greatest wealth, grandeur, and prosperity of the Hispano-Arab domination, as those of his son and grandson indicate respectively the climax of its intellectual supremacy and its military glory. During this, the most flourishing era of the Saracen empire, the Peninsula presented the aspect of a highly cultivated and extraordinarily productive garden. The graceful and delicious plants of the Orient grew everywhere side by side with the indigenous flora of less favored Europe. The semi-tropical region embraced by the provinces of Valencia and Murcia, thickly settled as they are, then supported a far more numerous population than now clusters in their fertile valleys. The treeless and proverbially barren steppes of Old Castile were diversified with forests and dotted with picturesque villages. Endless fields of ripening grain met the eye on the plains of La Mancha, where to-day a sparse and straggling vegetation affords precarious sustenance to the flock of the shepherd. The nature of the soil, its peculiar adaptability to certain agricultural products, the rotation of crops, the fertilizing qualities of all varieties of manures, the systematic distribution and economy of water, were thoroughly understood, and the principles of scientific husbandry applied with phenomenal success. Not a foot of ground was wasted. The rocky hill-sides were, with infinite labor, cut into terraces, covered with mould, and planted with vineyards. Where even a single citron, carob, or olive-tree would grow, a triangular enclosure was constructed of stones filled with earth and tended with assiduous care. The yield of the harvests was often a hundred-fold. It was not unusual, in many districts, for the same ground to produce four crops of different kinds in the course of a year. In the South, where the warm and genial climate assisted the natural productiveness of the soil, the country was not inaptly termed a terrestrial paradise. The suburbs of Cordova, Granada, and Murcia were proverbial for their beauty, and their luxuriant vegetation was rather suggestive of the rural surroundings of provincial hamlets than of the vicinity of great capitals. The olive orchards of Seville were the most extensive in the world. The banks of the Guadalquivir, near that city, were lined with fruit-trees, and, for a distance of thirty miles, one could travel through a succession of farm-houses, castles, and stately villas embowered in perennial verdure. A net-work of canals, subject to and regulated by an equitable code of laws interpreted by rustic magistrates chosen by the people, traversed in all directions the tillable land of every province. Gigantic aqueducts spanned valleys and hill-sides, bearing to the parched and thirsty soil of the distant plains the refreshing waters of the mountain springs. The experience of the Moor enabled him to detect the presence of the precious fluid in the most unpromising localities; and subterranean channels, hundreds of yards in length, hewn in the living rock, still attest his dauntless energy and perseverance.

The incessant wars and domestic feuds of the Abbasides and the Fatimites, which consumed their resources and interrupted their commerce, presented opportunities to the Ommeyades of Spain by which they were ever ready to profit. The isolated situation of the latter, and the peaceful condition of their empire for extended periods of time, were eminently propitious to the development of foreign trade, while the possession of a large merchant marine facilitated transportation to points that national hostility and religious prejudice often rendered inaccessible by land. Although the great entrepôt of Alexandria was closed to the subjects of the Khalifs of the West, they were amply indemnified by the hospitable reception and official courtesies which they habitually received from the people of Constantinople. It was a judicious and enlightened policy, and one whose important influence on every branch of art and learning cannot be estimated by the material prosperity, however great, which its institution conferred, that dictated the alliance, and preserved the close relations long existing between the princes of Moorish Spain and the sovereigns of Byzantium. During its most prosperous era, the merchant vessels of the khalifate numbered more than a thousand. Permanent agencies for the purchase and sale of merchandise were established in the most distant regions of the East,--in Ceylon, in Sogdiana, in China. There were few bodies of water accessible to maritime traffic where the flag of the Ommeyades was not known.

The vaunted glories of the Abbaside dynasty were surpassed, in many respects, by the civilization of the Hispano-Arab empire. In the extent of its public works, in the magnificence of its palaces, in the embellishment of its temples, the superiority of the latter can hardly be questioned. Its thorough and systematic cultivation of the soil was not inferior in its results to the methods pursued in the most productive fields of Mesopotamia, the Garden of Asia. No comparison exists between the trade of Damascus and Bagdad, largely dependent on caravans, and that of Moorish Spain, which, in addition to this resource, employed great fleets of merchantmen.

The best indications of the prosperity of the Western Khalifate are to be derived from its population and its public revenues. It has been estimated by competent authorities that the subjects of Abd-al-Rahman III. numbered at least thirty million. Great as was the extent of the metropolis, incredible as was her wealth, superb as were her environs, many of the other cities of the empire, while they could not rival her power and grandeur, shared the enormously profitable benefits of a civilization in which Cordova enjoyed a well-deserved pre-eminence. The dominions of the Khalif included eighty municipalities of the first rank and three hundred of the second; the smaller towns were almost innumerable. Along the banks of the Guadalquivir alone stood twelve thousand villages. So thickly was the country settled that the traveller usually passed, in the space of a single day’s journey, no less than three large cities in the midst of an unbroken succession of towns and hamlets. Nothing comparable with the opulence and splendor of the great provincial capitals was to be seen outside of the Peninsula. Seville contained five hundred thousand inhabitants; Almeria an equal number; Granada four hundred and twenty-five thousand; Malaga three hundred thousand; Valencia two hundred and fifty thousand; Toledo two hundred thousand.

The sanitary regulations maintained in these large communities were almost perfect. The streets were paved and lighted. A thorough system of drainage prevailed. Some of the sewers under the city of Valencia were large enough to admit a cart with ease, and the smallest could be traversed by a loaded beast of burden. Order was preserved by means of a numerous and well-organized police, who patrolled the thoroughfares day and night.

From the best information to be obtained concerning the revenues of Spain under the Arabs during the reigns of different monarchs, the conclusion is indisputable that they exceeded in amount those of all the other sovereigns of Europe combined. The data we possess, while much less copious and explicit than could be desired, are, as far as they go, undoubtedly correct, although some critics have questioned their accuracy. A single instance may suffice to convey an idea of the wealth of the khalifs under the most flourishing conditions of their empire. The revenue of Abd-al-Rahman III. was twelve million nine hundred and forty-five thousand dinars, equivalent to thirty-three million six hundred thousand dollars. The immensity of the pecuniary resources of the khalifate may well excite the wonder, if not the incredulity, of the scholar when it is remembered that the ratio of the respective monetary values of the tenth and twentieth centuries is ten to one. The fact that such a sum could be contributed for the support of government by a nation occupying a limited territorial area like that of Spain, without being considered onerous or in any way impairing its commercial prosperity, is a more reliable indication of the affluence of the Western Khalifate than a whole library of statistics. The principal tax levied was one-tenth of the yield of the mines, crops, mercantile investments, and industrial occupations. In addition to this was the regular contribution, yielding fourteen million dollars, paid by Christians and Jews as a consideration for the enjoyment of their laws and the practice of their religion; certain taxes on shops and on the sale of property, and duties on imports, none of which were at all excessive. One of the most important sources of revenue, in a warlike age, was the fifth of the booty obtained in battle, which, after division, was deposited in the royal treasury. No approximate computation can be made of its amount, which necessarily varied with each campaign, and no appraisement was taken of its actual value after its first distribution, which was, in most instances, hastily made and inaccurate. The exigencies of warfare, and the expenses arising from the construction of important public works, often demanded the imposition of additional and extraordinary burdens, which, while not countenanced by law, were usually paid without remonstrance, as required for the propagation of the Faith and for the completion of noble architectural monuments representing the glory and piety of the monarch and the opulence of the state. The dignitaries of the empire maintained the pomp and state of princes. Their palaces, their courts, their retinues, were inferior only to those of their royal master. No Christian potentate could vie with them in magnificence. Their wealth, accumulated by every legal expedient, by every device of extortion, was bestowed with lavish hand. A present made by the Vizier, Ibn-Shobeyd, to Abd-al-Rahman III., and celebrated by the Arab writers of the age as an instance of prodigal generosity, bears witness of the vast treasures which must have been possessed by imperial officials of the highest rank. It included an estate whose forests contained twenty thousand trees; sixty slaves, male and female, selected for their accomplishments and beauty; one hundred horses and mules; eight hundred suits of armor; a large number of costly weapons, tents, and trappings; carpets, cushions, and silks; rare sables and cloaks of brocade; quantities of camphor, aloes, musk, and amber. The most important item of this magnificent gift was coin and virgin gold to the amount of five hundred and fifty thousand dinars. Its whole value may be estimated at more than five million dollars.

The political sagacity of the Moorish princes neglected no precaution which might contribute to the consolidation of their authority or the security of their dominions. The navy of Abd-al-Rahman III. was the most powerful in the Mediterranean. The irregular troops at his command were practically unlimited in number; those regularly enrolled amounted to more than a hundred and fifty thousand. The body-guard of the Khalif was famous for the splendor of its arms and the perfection of its discipline. It was composed of twelve thousand veterans, of whom eight thousand were cavalry. The accoutrements of the members of this select corps were the most costly and perfect that the military science of the time could provide. Their uniform was of the finest silk. The caparisons of their horses were unequalled in magnificence. The hilts of their scimetars were jewelled; their belts and scabbards were of solid gold.

Facilities for rapid and secure communication with the frontiers of the empire were afforded by substantial causeways, which, radiating from the capital, were equally available for the passage of troops and the transportation of merchandise. The safety of the traveller was assured by patrols and sentinels lodged in barracks distributed at regular intervals. A system of posts transmitted intelligence by means of couriers and relays of horses with a rapidity that to the mind of the astonished foreigner seemed almost magical. Innumerable watch-towers, still known to the Spaniards by their Arab name, atalayas, rose upon every promontory of the long extended line of coast, and from their summits beacons flashed timely notice of the movements of friendly cruisers and hostile squadrons.

Vast sums were repeatedly appropriated from the treasury for structures designed for public utility, solely with the object of affording employment to the industrious artisan and laborer. Abd-al-Rahman II. caused proclamation to be made throughout his dominions that no man, able and willing to work, should suffer because of enforced idleness. Thus was established by implication the salutary principle that the accumulated wealth of the state was the property of the people, and to its general application is to be attributed the extraordinary number of castles, mosques, bridges, and aqueducts which cover every part of the Peninsula once subject to Mussulman rule.

The sick and the unfortunate were housed and cared for in public institutions erected for that purpose. Orphans were maintained and educated from the private purse of the Khalif, five hundred being enrolled in a single school at Cordova, a noble example of patriarchal solicitude and royal generosity.

Equally unlike their predecessors the Barbarians and their own conquerors the Castilians, the Spanish Arabs did not take pleasure in the destruction of the proud memorials of Roman greatness. It is true that where a structure was hopelessly ruined, they appropriated the materials for their own edifices. Wanton injury of the relics of classic antiquity was, however, always discountenanced by the liberal spirit of the Spanish Moslem. Even from the earliest epoch of their occupation, the grandeur of these works, which have immortalized the power and majesty of the Cæsars, filled their untutored but not unappreciative minds with awe and wonder. Bridges and fortifications which had survived since the reign of the first emperors were rebuilt. The highways, which formed such an important feature of the military policy of the empire, were thoroughly repaired and extended. Such objects of Greek or Roman art as came into possession of the Saracens--with the exception of statuary, which, as representing the human form, partook of the abomination of idolatrous worship--were carefully preserved. In every act and sentiment was disclosed a feeling of reverence and admiration for the imposing and graceful monuments bequeathed to posterity by the former masters of the world.

The centre of all this wonderful civilization was the famous city of Cordova. The capital of the empire, of itself, it possessed all the requisites of a mighty state, a vast population, commercial wealth, religious prestige, political power. Eight cities of the first rank and three thousand smaller towns were subject to its jurisdiction. Each year the sum of three million pieces of gold--sixty million dollars--was paid into its treasury. No community of ancient or mediæval times could compare with it in proficiency in the arts, in scientific attainments, in intellectual culture. Its inhabitants could not have numbered less than a million. Their dwellings, generally built of stone, exhibited the unpretending exterior peculiar to Oriental architecture, but within they were adorned with mosaics and arabesques, with blooming parterres and marble fountains. The streets, adapted to the scorching climate, were narrow, but solidly paved, perfectly drained, and, subject to constant supervision, were kept in a state of cleanliness unknown to the best-regulated municipalities of modern Europe. In summer, a grateful coolness was obtained by awnings, which, stretched from one building to another, excluded the rays of the sun, facilitating the purposes of traffic and the intercourse of the people. The houses--exclusive of the palaces of the nobles and public officials, which were very numerous--amounted to the extraordinary figure of one hundred and thirteen thousand. There were eighty thousand four hundred shops, seven hundred mosques, nine hundred baths, and four thousand three hundred markets, where were constantly to be seen the costumes and the treasures of every country known to commerce in that age.

For ten miles in a direct line on the darkest night the pedestrian could walk securely through the city and its environs by the light of innumerable lamps. The total area of the capital included a space of twenty-four miles in length by six in width along the classic Bætis, which--the only stream of Andalusia that is said to bear a strictly Arab name--had been designated by the Saracens The Great River. The circumference of the city proper, enclosed by fortified walls, was fourteen miles. In the size and number of its bazaars and in the variety of the merchandise with which its warehouses were filled, Cordova enjoyed an undisputed pre-eminence over the most luxurious cities of Asia, and west of the Bosphorus had no rival, with the single exception of Constantinople.

The rarest and most expensive luxuries of the table and the harem were to be procured in the shops of the gigantic capital. Beautiful slaves from Greece, Italy, and Abyssinia; white eunuchs, whose emasculation had rather enhanced than diminished their elegance of form and regularity of feature; blacks, whose repulsive hideousness and colossal stature were qualifications for the retinue of the Khalif; books and manuscripts in every tongue; the choicest spices and perfumes of the Orient; priceless jewels, whose sheen enhances to such a degree the charms of female loveliness; robes of every hue and texture, woven with texts and mottoes in threads of silver and gold,--all of these, and many other wares, objects of the cupidity and the passions of man--were daily exhibited to the covetous and admiring glance of the passer-by. Great caravansaries afforded shelter to multitudes of merchants, travellers, and pilgrims, who, allured by avarice, curiosity, or devotion, daily resorted to the renowned Metropolis of the West. Inns, where food, lodging, and alms were gratuitously distributed to the worthy but impecunious scholar, whose means were inadequate to the gratification of his literary aspirations, established by the government and maintained from the funds of the public treasury, formed a peculiar and striking feature of the varied life of the city. From the rivulets of the distant Sierra, a lofty aqueduct, two leagues and a half in length--and whose vermilion hue, derived from the cinnabar in its cement, presenting a vivid contrast to the green of the surrounding landscape, rendered it a most conspicuous object--furnished the inhabitants with a never-failing supply of water. Fountains threw up their glittering spray in every square, before every palace, in the court-yard of every mosque. In some instances, the stream poured in noisy volume from the mouth of a lion or a crocodile of gilded bronze, grotesque and terrible in appearance; in others, the drops rippled gently over the edges of exquisitely carved basins of porphyry and alabaster. The air was heavy with the mingled aroma of myriads of blossoms, as from orchard and garden were wafted the odors of many a delicious exotic, which filled the streets with their intoxicating fragrance.