The more human side of Islam found an embodiment in the illustrious Ziryab, the favourite of Abd-ur-Rahman II. In his case, I suppose, as in all else, it is necessary to discount by fifty per cent. all the appreciations of Arabic writers; yet through all the cobwebs of exaggeration and tradition, we can discern the outlines of a very remarkable personality. Ziryab was the Admirable Crichton of his age. He combined the attributes of Leonardo da Vinci and Beau Nash. He alone could decide on the proper method of eating asparagus and on the planning of a city. He could pronounce with finality on the wisdom of a move at chess and a far-reaching treaty of state. He had views on the organization of armies and aviaries; he was listened to with equal respect by statesmen and scullery-maids. And (wonderful to relate) this authority on everybody's business was loved by everyone!
The history of Cordova, like that of most capitals, belongs to the nation at large, and cannot be more than touched upon here. Memorials of ancient days are the picturesque Moorish walls with their flanking towers and the grand old bridge of sixteen arches, built by the khalifas. It marked the limit of navigation in Roman days, whereas now no boat can ascend the Guadalquivir above Seville. The bridge is defended on the south side by a very picturesque tête du pont called Calahorra, a fine specimen of the medieval barbican. Here a strange scene was witnessed in the year 1394, when the prototype of Don Quixote, Don Martin de la Barbuda, Grand Master of Calatrava, appeared at the head of a few knights and a fanatical rabble on his way to fight the Moors of Granada. His enterprise was directly counter to the king's orders; the two countries were at peace. The royal officers assembled on the bridge expostulated and threatened the crusaders in vain. The Grand Master was accompanied by a hermit, who exhorted him to proceed and promised him that his victory should be purchased without the loss of a single Christian life. The officials were swept aside, and the wild cavalcade went on its way to destruction. None of the knights ever returned alive across the bridge of Cordova.
During the four centuries following the Reconquest, the city boasted that it was the home of the finest flower of the European aristocracy. Their old mansions have for the most part disappeared, but the name of the most distinguished member of the order is treasured in Cordova and honoured far beyond the limits of Spain. Gonzalo Hernandez de Aguilar y de Cordova, "the Great Captain," is the hero of the city. The principal street is named after him, as indeed one might suppose the town to have been, from the reverence in which he is held. On the whole, he was the greatest soldier this country has produced. With forces hardly superior to those with which Cortes and Pizarro conquered a savage foe, he vanquished the best equipped troops in Christendom and matched his strength successfully against the most brilliant warriors of his day. His reward, it is hardly necessary to say of the servant of a fifteenth-century king, was ingratitude and neglect. When the odious Ferdinand V. demanded from him a statement of his military expenditure, he responded with the famous "Cuentas del Gran Capitan," which silenced even the venal monarch. The statement ran:
"200,736 ducats and 9 reals paid to the clergy and the poor who prayed for the victory of the arms of Spain.
"100 millions in pikes, bullets, and entrenching tools; 100,000 in powder and cannon-balls, 10,000 ducats in scented gloves to preserve the troops from the odour of the enemies' dead left on the battlefield; 100,000 ducats spent in the repair of the bells completely worn out by every day announcing fresh victories gained over our enemies; 50,000 ducats in 'aguardiente' for the troops, on the eve of battle. A million and a half for the safeguarding prisoners and wounded.
"One million for Masses of Thanksgiving, 700,494 ducats for secret service, etc.