"The University of Cordova was at that time one of the most celebrated in the world. In the principal Mosque, where the The University of Cordova. lectures were held, Abú Bakr b. Mu‘áwiya, the Qurayshite, discussed the Traditions relating to Muḥammad. Abú ‘Alí al-Qálí of Baghdád dictated a large and excellent miscellany which contained an immense quantity of curious information concerning the ancient Arabs, their proverbs, their language, and their poetry. This collection he afterwards published under the title of Amálí, or 'Dictations.' Grammar was taught by Ibnu ’l-Qúṭiyya, who, in the opinion of Abú ‘Ali al-Qálí, was the leading grammarian of Spain. Other sciences had representatives no less renowned. Accordingly the students attending the classes were reckoned by thousands. The majority were students of what was called fiqh, that is to say, theology and law, for that science then opened the way to the most lucrative posts."[773]
Among the notable savants of this epoch we may mention Ibn ‘Abdi Rabbihi († 940 a.d.), laureate of ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán III and author of a well-known anthology entitled al-‘Iqd al-Faríd; the poet Ibn Hání of Seville († 973 a.d.), an Ismá‘ílí convert who addressed blasphemous panegyrics to the Fáṭimid Caliph Mu‘izz;[774] the historians of Spain, Abú Bakr al-Rází († 937 a.d.), whose family belonged to Rayy in Persia, and Ibnu ’l-Qúṭiyya († 977 a.d.), who, as his name indicates, was the descendant of a Gothic princess; the astronomer and mathematician Maslama b. Aḥmad of Madrid († 1007 a.d.); and the great surgeon Abu ’l-Qásim al-Zahráwí of Cordova, who died about the same time, and who became known to Europe by the name of Albucasis.
The fall of the Spanish Umayyads, which took place in the first half of the eleventh century, left Cordova a republic and a merely provincial town; and though she might still claim to be regarded as the literary metropolis of Spain, her ancient glories were overshadowed by the independent dynasties which now begin to flourish in Seville, Almeria, Badajoz, Granada, Toledo, Malaga, Valencia, and other cities. Of these rival princedoms the most formidable in arms and the most brilliant in its cultivation of the arts was, beyond question, the family of the ‘Abbádids, who reigned in Seville. The The ‘Abbádids (1023-1091 a.d.). foundations of their power were laid by the Cadi Abu ’l-Qásim Muḥammad. "He acted towards the people with such justice and moderation as drew on him the attention of every eye and the love of every heart," so that the office of chief magistrate was willingly conceded to him. In order to obtain the monarchy which he coveted, the Cadi employed an audacious ruse. The last Umayyad Caliph, Hishám II, had vanished mysteriously: it was generally supposed that, after escaping from Cordova when that city was stormed by the Berbers (1013 a.d.), he fled to Asia and died unknown; but many believed that he was still alive. Twenty years after his disappearance there suddenly arose a pretender, named Khalaf, who gave out that he was the Caliph Hishám. The likeness between them was strong enough to make the imposture plausible. At any rate, the Cadi had his own reasons for abetting it. He called on the people, who were deeply attached to the Umayyad dynasty, to rally round their legitimate sovereign. Cordova and several other States recognised the authority of this pseudo-Caliph, whom Abu ’l-Qásim used as a catspaw. His son ‘Abbád, a treacherous and bloodthirsty tyrant, but an amateur of belles-lettres, threw off the mask and reigned under the title of al-Mu‘taḍid (1042-1069 a.d.). He in turn was succeeded by his son, al-Mu‘tamid, whose strange and romantic history reminds one of a sentence frequently occurring in the Arabian Nights: "Were it graven with needle-gravers upon the eye-corners, it were a warner to whoso would be warned." He is described as "the most liberal, the most hospitable, the most munificent, and the most powerful of all the princes who ruled in Spain. His court was the halting-place of travellers, the rendezvous of poets, the point to which all hopes were directed, and the haunt of men of talent."[775] Mu‘tamid himself was a poet of rare distinction. "He left," says Ibn Mu‘tamid of Seville (1069-1091 a.d.). Bassám, "some pieces of verse beautiful as the bud when it opens to disclose the flower; and had the like been composed by persons who made of poetry a profession and a merchandise, they would still have been considered charming, admirable, and singularly original."[776] Numberless anecdotes are told of Mu‘tamid's luxurious life at Seville: his evening rambles along the banks of the Guadalquivir; his parties of pleasure; his adventures when he sallied forth in disguise, accompanied by his Vizier, the poet Ibn ‘Ammár, into the streets of the sleeping city; and his passion for the slave-girl I‘timád, commonly known as Rumaykiyya, whom he loved all his life with constant devotion.
Meanwhile, however, a terrible catastrophe was approaching. The causes which led up to it are related by Ibn Khallikán as follows[777]:—
"At that time Alphonso VI, the son of Ferdinand, the sovereign of Castile and king of the Spanish Franks, had become so powerful The Almoravides in Spain. that the petty Moslem princes were obliged to make peace with him and pay him tribute. Mu‘tamid Ibn ‘Abbád surpassed all the rest in greatness of power and extent of empire, yet he also paid tribute to Alphonso. After capturing Toledo (May 29, 1085 a.d.) the Christian monarch sent him a threatening message with the demand that he should surrender his fortresses; on which condition he might retain the open country as his own. These words provoked Mu‘tamid to such a degree that he struck the ambassador and put to death all those who accompanied him.[778] Alphonso, who was marching on Cordova, no sooner received intelligence of this event than he returned to Toledo in order to provide machines for the siege of Seville. When the Shaykhs and doctors of Islam were informed of this project they assembled and said: 'Behold how the Moslem cities fall into the hands of the Franks whilst our sovereigns are engaged in warfare against each other! If things continue in this state the Franks will subdue the entire country.' They then went to the Cadi (of Cordova), ‘Abdulláh b. Muḥammad b. Adham, and conferred with him on the disasters which had befallen the Moslems and on the means by which they might be remedied. Every person had something to say, but it was finally resolved that they should write to Abú Ya‘qúb Yúsuf b. Táshifín, the king of the Mulaththamún[779] and sovereign of Morocco, imploring his assistance. The Cadi then waited on Mu‘tamid, and informed him of what had passed. Mu‘tamid concurred with them on the expediency of such an application, and told the Cadi to bear the message himself to Yúsuf b. Táshifín. A conference took place at Ceuta. Yúsuf recalled from the city of Morocco the troops which he had left there, and when all were mustered he sent them across to Spain, and followed with a body of 10,000 men. Mu‘tamid, who had also assembled an army, went to meet him; and the Moslems, on hearing the news, hastened from every province for the purpose of combating the infidels. Alphonso, who was then at Toledo, took the field with 40,000 horse, exclusive of other troops which came to join him. He wrote a long and threatening letter to Yúsuf b. Táshifín, who inscribed on the back of it these words: 'What will happen thou shalt see!' and returned it. On reading the answer Alphonso was filled with apprehension, and observed that this was a man of resolution. The two armies met at Zalláqa, Battle of Zalláqa (October 23, 1086 a.d.). near Badajoz. The Moslems gained the victory, and Alphonso fled with a few others, after witnessing the complete destruction of his army. This year was adopted in Spain as the commencement of a new era, and was called the year of Zalláqa."
Mu‘tamid soon perceived that he had "dug his own grave"—to quote the words used by himself a few years afterwards—when he sought aid from the perfidious Almoravide. Yúsuf could not but contrast the beauty, riches, and magnificent resources of Spain with the barren deserts and rude civilisation of Africa. He was not content to admire at a distance the enchanting view which had been dangled before him. In the following year he returned to Spain and took possession of Granada. He next proceeded to pick a quarrel with Mu‘tamid. The Berber army laid siege to Seville, and although Mu‘tamid displayed the utmost bravery, he was unable to prevent the fall of his capital (September, 1091 a.d.). The unfortunate prince was Captivity and death of Mu‘tamid. thrown into chains and transported to Morocco. Yúsuf spared his life, but kept him a prisoner at Aghmát, where he died in 1095 a.d. During his captivity he bewailed in touching poems the misery of his state, the sufferings which he and his family had to endure, and the tragic doom which suddenly deprived him of friends, fortune, and power. "Every one loves Mu‘tamid," wrote an historian of the thirteenth century, "every one pities him, and even now he is lamented."[780] He deserved no less, for, as Dozy remarks, he was "the last Spanish-born king (le dernier roi indigène), who represented worthily, nay, brilliantly, a nationality and culture which succumbed, or barely survived, under the dominion of barbarian invaders."[781]
The Age of the Tyrants, to borrow from Greek history a designation which well describes the character of this period, Ibn Zaydún. yields to no other in literary and scientific renown. Poetry was cultivated at every Andalusian court. If Seville could point with just pride to Mu‘tamid and his Vizier, Ibn ‘Ammár, Cordova claimed a second pair almost equally illustrious—Ibn Zaydún (1003-1071 a.d.) and Walláda, a daughter of the Umayyad Caliph al-Mustakfí. Ibn Zaydún entered upon a political career and became the confidential agent of Ibn Jahwar, the chief magistrate of Cordova, but he fell into disgrace, probably on account of his love for the beautiful and talented princess, who inspired those tender melodies which have caused the poet's European biographers to link his name with Tibullus and Petrarch. In the hope of seeing her, although he durst not show himself openly, he lingered in al-Zahrá, the royal suburb of Cordova built by ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán III. At last, after many wanderings, he found a home at Seville, where he was cordially received by Mu‘taḍid, who treated him as an intimate friend and bestowed on him the title of Dhu ’l-Wizáratayn.[782] The following verses, which he addressed to Walláda, depict the lovely scenery of al-Zahrá and may serve to illustrate the deep feeling for nature which, as has been said, is characteristic of Spanish-Arabian poetry in general.[783]
"To-day my longing thoughts recall thee here; The landscape glitters, and the sky is clear. So feebly breathes the gentle zephyr's gale, In pity of my grief it seems to fail. The silvery fountains laugh, as from a girl's Fair throat a broken necklace sheds its pearls. Oh, 'tis a day like those of our sweet prime, When, stealing pleasures from indulgent Time, We played midst flowers of eye-bewitching hue, That bent their heads beneath the drops of dew. Alas, they see me now bereaved of sleep; They share my passion and with me they weep. Here in her sunny haunt the rose blooms bright, Adding new lustre to Aurora's light; And waked by morning beams, yet languid still, The rival lotus doth his perfume spill. All stirs in me the memory of that fire Which in my tortured breast will ne'er expire. Had death come ere we parted, it had been The best of all days in the world, I ween; And this poor heart, where thou art every thing, Would not be fluttering now on passion's wing. Ah, might the zephyr waft me tenderly, Worn out with anguish as I am, to thee! O treasure mine, if lover e'er possessed A treasure! O thou dearest, queenliest! Once, once, we paid the debt of love complete And ran an equal race with eager feet. How true, how blameless was the love I bore, Thou hast forgotten; but I still adore!"
The greatest scholar and the most original genius of Moslem Spain is Abú Muḥammad ‘Alí Ibn Ḥazm, who Ibn Ḥazm (994-1064 a.d.). was born at Cordova in 994 a.d. He came of a 'Renegade' family, but he was so far from honouring his Christian ancestors that he pretended to trace his descent to a Persian freedman of Yazíd b. Abí Sufyán, a brother of the first Umayyad Caliph, Mu‘áwiya; and his contempt for Christianity was in proportion to his fanatical zeal on behalf of Islam. His father, Aḥmad, had filled the office of Vizier under Manṣúr Ibn Abí ‘Ámir, and Ibn Ḥazm himself plunged ardently into politics as a client—through his false pedigree—of the Umayyad House, to which he was devotedly attached. Before the age of thirty he became prime minister of ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán V (1023-1024 a.d.), but on the fall of the Umayyad Government he retired from public life and gave himself wholly to literature. Ibn Bashkuwál, author of a well-known biographical dictionary of Spanish celebrities entitled al-Ṣila fí akhbári a’immati ’l-Andalus, speaks of him in these terms: "Of all the natives of Spain Ibn Ḥazm was the most eminent by the universality and the depth of his learning in the sciences cultivated by the Moslems; add to this his profound acquaintance with the Arabic tongue, and his vast abilities as an elegant writer, a poet, a biographer, and an historian; his son possessed about 400 volumes, containing nearly 80,000 leaves, which Ibn Ḥazm had composed and written out."[784] It is recorded that he said, "My only desire in seeking knowledge was to attain a high scientific rank in this world and the next."[785] He got little encouragement from his contemporaries. The mere fact that he belonged to the Ẓáhirite school of theology would not have mattered, but the caustic style in which he attacked the most venerable religious authorities of Islam aroused such bitter hostility that he was virtually excommunicated by the orthodox divines. People were warned against having anything to do with him, and at Seville his writings were solemnly committed to the flames. On this occasion he is said to have remarked—
"The paper ye may burn, but what the paper holds Ye cannot burn: 'tis safe within my breast: where I Remove, it goes with me, alights when I alight, And in my tomb will lie."[786]