The populace of Toledo, whose implacable hatred of its Saracen masters no exhibition of clemency could diminish and no example of severity intimidate, having learned of the persecution of their Christian brethren at Cordova, and apprehensive lest the zealous efforts of the faquis—whose influence at that time dominated the policy of the government—might be extended to their own city, organized a revolt, seized the Arab governor, and demanded of the Emir in exchange for that official the hostages whom they had given to Abd-al-Rahman II. as security for their loyalty and good behavior. With a weakness that formed no part of his character, and for which no historical account affords an explanation, Mohammed acquiesced. The fierce Toledans then began to carry on war in earnest. Accustomed from childhood to the use of arms and the exposure of a military life, they repeatedly proved more than a match for the disciplined veterans of the emirate. They drove out the garrison of Calatrava and demolished its walls. Then, suddenly traversing the passes of the Sierra Morena, they surprised at Andujar a detachment of the royal forces sent to attack them, captured its baggage, and plundered its camp. Never before in the history of Toledan rebellions had the insurgents ventured so near the capital. The Emir keenly felt the insult to his dignity, and, at the head of all the troops he could collect in such an emergency, advanced to punish the rebels. The latter retired, and their leader, Sindola, whose name indicates his Gothic descent, sent an envoy to the King of the Asturias for aid. The Christian prince, perceiving at a glance the extraordinary benefits which would result from an alliance with a powerful faction in the heart of the Moslem dominions, responded at once to the appeal with a strong body of veterans, who succeeded in entering the city before the arrival of Mohammed.

The strength of the walls and the prowess of the garrison forbade the hope of a successful assault, and induced Mohammed to have recourse to a stratagem worthy of the cunning and astuteness of an Arab. Concealing his troops in the ravine traversed by the Guadacelete, he appeared before Toledo with a squadron of cavalry and made preparations to encamp. The rebels, seeing what was apparently an excellent opportunity to cut off this vanguard before the arrival of the main body, made a sally, and, before they were aware of their danger, were drawn into the trap laid for them and surrounded. Dreadful carnage followed; but few escaped, and a ghastly heap of eight thousand heads, collected in the field of battle, attested the animosity of the victors and the misfortune of the vanquished. These sinister trophies, ranged along the battlements of Cordova and other Andalusian cities, were long an admonition to traitors of the terrible lesson that the Toledans and their infidel allies had received on the banks of the Guadacelete. The great loss sustained by the insurgents,—amounting to twenty thousand, for only the Christians and such Mussulman leaders as were killed or taken prisoners were decapitated,—so far from crushing the obstinate spirit of the inhabitants of the imperial city of the Visigoths, only served to increase their fury and confirm their resolution. Their offensive operations were, however, effectually checked. The garrison, reduced to less than one-third of its number, was forced to remain inactive behind the fortifications. It was with mingled feelings of rage and despair that the industrious as well as the wealthy part of the population, whose possessions had hitherto been respected in the hope of timely submission, beheld the desolation of their gardens, the uprooting of their vineyards, the burning of their villas,—those evidences of prosperity and luxury that embellished for many a mile the banks of the famous Tagus. Their thoughts were further embittered by the consciousness that these ravages were not inflicted through any fault of theirs, but through the turbulence and ill-directed ambition of Jews and renegades, whose numbers were swelled by a crowd of vagabonds and criminals attracted by the evil reputation of the city, the worst elements of a lawless population, the refuse of a score of great communities. An additional advantage gained by the troops of Mohammed served to still further depress the spirits of the Toledans, although no disaster seemed sufficient to impel them to a voluntary return to their allegiance. The principal bridge that gave access to the city was secretly mined. An attack was then made on one of the gates; the assailants retired in apparent disorder; the besieged pursued; and, at the proper instant, the wooden supports were removed from the piers, and the whole structure, crowded with the soldiers of the enemy, was precipitated into the waters of the Tagus. Not an individual escaped, for such as were able to save themselves from the rapid current of the river were shot by the archers of the Emir, stationed on the banks for that purpose. These repeated misfortunes impressed the Toledans with the necessity of peace. Their valor and their constancy under the most discouraging circumstances, although exhibited in an evil cause, cannot but excite the admiration of every reader. For the long period of twenty years Mohammed made incessant but vain attempts to subdue them. They defied the utmost efforts of his power. They menaced him in his very capital. They routed his armies, often commanded by princes of the blood. They dismantled his strongholds. The most overwhelming reverses only nerved them to greater exertions. Great losses in the field, the tortures of famine, the murmurs of their disaffected townsmen, could not shake their determination or excite their fears. The attempts to storm their fortifications were repulsed with heroic courage. Their decimated ranks were recruited from the sturdy mountaineers of Leon and the Asturias. It is in vain that the modern historian searches for the motives that inspired and sustained this sentiment of independence, this habitual defiance of authority. The ancient Gothic spirit was not sufficient to account for such an anomalous condition of affairs, although the Christians greatly outnumbered the members of all other sects. There existed no unity of religious feeling which might actuate zealots to deeds of self-sacrifice and martyrdom. The population of Toledo is represented by all writers as a remarkably heterogeneous one. The Christians mention it freely with contempt. The Moslems, without exception, allude to it as a faithless and turbulent rabble. The reason for the suicidal policy that neglected to demolish the fortifications of this centre of sedition, and did not resort to the drastic measure of wholesale expatriation when milder means had repeatedly failed, also remains a mystery. It required no great degree of statesmanship to perceive the inevitable consequences of the irrepressible spirit of rebellion encouraged, as it was, by the ill-timed clemency and indulgence of the sovereign. At length, emboldened by their alliance with the Christians of the North, and taking advantage of the embarrassments of their antagonist, harassed by enemies at home and abroad, they extorted from the Emir a treaty which virtually conceded their independence. It allowed them to select their own magistrates, including the governor, and to regulate without interference their municipal and ecclesiastical affairs. Toledo, by the payment of an annual tribute, was thus placed upon the same political footing as that of a province recently subjected to the arms of Islam, and must henceforth, for many years, cease to be regarded as an integral part of the Moorish empire.

In the meantime, the example of Toledo had been followed by other cities, whose inhabitants, exasperated by their grievances and instigated by the ambition of daring chieftains, kept the country in continued disorder and exercised to the utmost the energy and abilities of Mohammed. The evil consequences of that pernicious system, peculiar to the Arabs, of entrusting important commands to renegades without previous satisfactory tests of their fidelity, were once more demonstrated. Musa-Ibn-Zeyad, who traced his descent from the branch of the Visigothic nobility known to the Arabs as the Beni-Kasi, and whom we have seen defeated at Albeyda, was soon afterwards, through the intrigues of fanatical courtiers who accused him of treason, removed from his post of wali of Saragossa and disgraced. This officer, whose military talents and political capacity were far above the average, seeing all avenues for promotion under the emirate closed, and keenly feeling the injustice of the treatment he had received, proceeded at once to organize an insurrection, an easy matter among the adventurers of the frontier naturally prone to inconstancy and insubordination. Popular among his subjects, almost the entire province of which Saragossa was the capital declared for his cause. Tudela, Huesca, Toledo, solicited his alliance. Having baffled the efforts of the Emir to crush him, he transmitted his authority to his son Musa. The latter, securing the friendship and support of the Navarrese, crossed the Pyrenees, and carried fire and sword into Southern France. His success was so remarkable, and the resources of the French monarchy were so inadequate to resist the progress of this enterprising partisan, that Charles the Bald not only condescended to treat with him on equal terms, but purchased immunity from future inroads by the payment of a large sum of money and the bestowal of magnificent gifts. The distinction acquired by Musa from the results of this expedition indirectly produced great accessions to his power. His son Lope became one of the magistrates of Toledo. The restless population of the border flocked to his standard by thousands. His army was further augmented by numbers of Christians,—Mozarabes as well as Gascons and Navarrese,—whose former habits and experience made them valuable soldiers. The martial spirit of Musa was displayed indiscriminately against Christian and Moslem; his prowess was respected and his independence reluctantly acknowledged alike by the courts of Cordova, Aix-la-Chapelle, and Oviedo. With a pardonable vanity, justified by actual power and the possession of territory, he assumed the title of Third King of Spain. His death in 862 was followed by a partial dismemberment of his dominions, which enabled Mohammed to recover Saragossa, Tudela, and a few other places of minor importance; but only a few years elapsed before the family of Musa, endeared to the people by the exploits of its founders, regained its former ascendency, and once more expelled the forces of the emirate. Although nothing is said of the religious belief of the Beni-Kasi, it may be inferred that they had returned to the Christian communion, as Alfonso III., their close ally, entrusted to these distinguished princes the education of his son Ordoño, heir to the crown of the Asturias and Leon.

The Norman pirates, familiar to the reader of Arab chronicles as Magioges,—a name derived from the fabulous Gog and Magog, whose descendants they were, according to the doubtful authority of mediæval tradition,—seven years after Mohammed ascended the throne made a second descent upon the shores of the Peninsula. The spoil which they had collected in their first excursion and the facility with which they had penetrated into the heart of France and Spain excited their insatiable cupidity, and inspired them with the hope of even more profitable adventures. But these expectations were defeated by the valor of the Galicians and by the prudence of Abd-al-Rahman II., who, as already related, had established a coast-guard, and disposed the naval forces of the emirate to intercept the landing and chastise the audacity of these intrepid and mysterious rovers of the seas. The fame of their former success had increased their numbers, and, after an ineffectual and disastrous attempt to plunder the seaport towns of Galicia, seventy well-manned vessels of their fleet appeared off the coast of Andalusia. Disembarking at various points, the Normans effected considerable damage, but, not venturing inland, their booty bore no comparison in quantity or value to that obtained by their former visitation, and meeting with a resistance entirely unexpected, they retired to try their fortunes on the coast of Africa. In that country many settlements suffered the dreadful evils consequent upon such attacks, and, after destroying whatever they could not carry away, they ravaged the Balearic Isles, and, steering eastward, swept along the shores of the Mediterranean as far as Sicily and Malta. The unprotected regions of Italy and Greece again experienced the dire effects of barbarian malevolence, this time unmitigated by the sympathy of a common religious belief; the instinctive antipathy of the savages of the North to all that bore the stamp of civilization was gratified without restraint; and, laden with plunder of incalculable value and for once satiated with blood and havoc, the pirates directed their course homeward through the Strait of Gibraltar.

The incessant hostilities maintained by Ordoño with the kingdom of Cordova were, in general, favorable to the Christian arms. Encouraged by the victory he had obtained at Albeyda, the Asturian monarch extended his operations far to the south of the Douro. The knowledge of the growing weakness of their enemies, and the consciousness of their own valor and resources, impelled the mountaineers to still greater exertions. The expeditions which had been at first but mere predatory incursions, now assumed the character of enterprises looking towards a permanent occupation of the country. Every advantageous post beyond the border which it was thought possible to retain was thoroughly fortified and garrisoned immediately after its capture. The walls of dismantled Moorish fortresses were repaired. In those towns where the Arab inhabitants preponderated, the latter were replaced by Galician and Asturian colonists. In all cases where a place was taken by storm, the male population was exterminated, and the women and children led into slavery. Many important cities, including, among others, Coria and Salamanca, fell into the hands of the Christians. The effects of this vigorous policy began to be felt so seriously at Cordova that the government summoned all its energies in an endeavor to counteract it, and a powerful army was assembled under the orders of Al-Mondhir, heir presumptive to the crown. That warlike and experienced prince met the forces of the enemy on the banks of the Douro; the Christians sustained a disastrous defeat; the larger part of the lost territory was recovered; and Al-Mondhir, relieved of further care in this quarter, turned his attention to Alava and Navarre. The victorious banners of the Moslems were next displayed before Pampeluna. The environs of that city were devastated; some castles throughout the province which had sheltered formidable bands of marauders were taken and dismantled; and Al-Mondhir, after a campaign unattended by a single disaster, returned in triumph to Cordova.

These reverses, while not sufficient to deter the indomitable mountaineers from repeating their forays, had at least the effect of changing their direction and limiting their extent. Lusitania, formerly invaded with impunity, was again selected as the object of their attack. The fields and vineyards of Lisbon were trampled down by the Christian squadrons; the town of Cintra was burned, and every hamlet accessible to the fury of a pitiless enemy was depopulated and destroyed. But the salutary lesson the Asturians had been recently taught was not lost upon them, and, without waiting for the army that Mohammed despatched in all haste to intercept their retreat, they retired with the same celerity which had marked their appearance.

Unable to arrest these inroads by ordinary means, Mohammed determined to have recourse to his navy, and disembark a force in the centre of the enemy’s country. The fleet reached the western coast in safety, but before a landing could be effected was destroyed by a hurricane. The more rigid Moslems, whose strict ideas had been shocked by the braving of an element of which the Prophet had stood in wholesome dread, regarded this catastrophe as a well-merited chastisement from heaven for disobedience to the Koran.

The revolt of Toledo had, from time to time, been followed by the defection of other cities, whose disorders, while important in the aggregate, were singly of little moment in their effects upon the affairs of the Peninsula. One, however, in some respects greatly resembling that by which the old capital of the Visigoths had secured its independence, deserves to be related, as it demonstrates, more thoroughly than an entire chronicle could do, the deplorable helplessness into which the empire founded by Abd-al-Rahman had fallen. Ibn-Merwan, a renegade prominent in former rebellions, and whom the foolish policy of the Moslems has again entrusted with a position of responsibility, aggrieved by some petty insult, deserted, and, accompanied by a few of his retainers, seized the castle of Alanje, near Merida. Besieged before he had time to collect supplies, he nevertheless held out for three months, when he surrendered on condition of his retirement to Bagdad. No sooner was he free, however, than he proclaimed himself the apostle of a new religion, whose doctrines were borrowed from those of both Christianity and Islamism; increased his following by the enlistment of bandits and outlaws; and, imitating the example of the Toledans, strengthened his cause by an alliance with the King of the Asturias. His depredations became so annoying that an army under Haschim, Mohammed’s favorite vizier, was despatched against him. The wily partisan found little trouble in decoying the vizier into an ambuscade; his command was annihilated; and he himself was sent as a trophy to the court of Alfonso. When the Emir made proposals for the ransom of Haschim, the Christian king demanded the immense sum of a hundred thousand pieces of gold. Much as he desired the release of his minister, the parsimony of Mohammed, which had increased with years, deterred him from so profuse an expenditure. For many months Haschim remained in captivity, but at length the entreaties of his family overcame the reluctance of the Emir, and he consented to send a portion of the ransom. The balance was secured by the delivery of hostages, and the vizier was finally liberated.

On his return to Cordova, Haschim found that his ancient enemy, with whom even Mohammed himself was unable to cope, had, during his absence, attained to the dignity of an independent prince. The Emir, intimidated by the menaces of Ibn-Merwan, had been compelled to conclude a peace with that chieftain; to cede to him the strong city of Badajoz; to release him from the payment of tribute; and to accede to such conditions as virtually dispensed with the duties of the subject, as well as abrogated the authority of the sovereign.

The effect of this pusillanimous conduct upon the malcontents and fanatics who infested every community of the emirate—a society the amalgamation of whose elements seemed utterly impracticable; destitute of religious unity; without the slightest idea of political virtue or patriotism; and acknowledging no incentive to subordination but that suggested by the employment of military force—may readily be imagined. Few cities preserved even the appearance of order. Every lawless passion raged without control. Feuds were prosecuted without interference. The functions of the magistrate, the obligations of the people, were suspended. The empire, shattered in every part, seemed on the verge of dissolution. Neither proximity to the seat of government, the prospect of royal favor, nor fear of the consequences of treason sufficed to retain the states in their allegiance. Andalusia alone sustained with apparent fidelity the cause of Islam and the dignity and fortunes of the monarch; but even this province was now destined to be the seat of an insurrection whose consequences threatened to involve the civilization of the West and the dynasty of the Ommeyades in sudden and irretrievable ruin.