History of the Moorish Empire in Europe, Vol. 1 (of 3)

by S. P. Scott

The high spirit of the inhabitants of Elvira chafed under the gross and unprovoked abuse which they were constantly compelled to undergo. They also were vain of their ancestry and proud of their souvenirs. In the early days of the Visigothic empire, the ancient Illiberis had been an oasis in the dismal waste of Paganism that included the entire Peninsula. It had been the seat of the first Spanish bishopric. There had been held, in the first quarter of the fourth century, a famous Council, many of whose canons are still recognized as valid by the Roman Catholic Church. Among them was one requiring the celibacy of the priesthood, a regulation subsequently adopted and enforced by Gregory VII. There, too, was contrived a scheme of discipline which, originally aimed at the rich and prosperous Hebrews, became the model of that awful engine of persecution, the Inquisition, whose tortures, improved by ecclesiastical deviltry, filled the world with terror after the lapse of more than a thousand years. The city, although inferior in natural advantages to its growing neighbor, Granada, was nevertheless of considerable political and commercial importance. The generous piety of the Gothic nobles had enriched its see with large endowments, and its churches in elegance and splendor could compare with any of the kingdom.

But the contagious example of the prevalent apostasy, a condition which dispensed with tribute and at the same time appealed strongly to the ambition of the unscrupulous and the selfish passions of the multitude, made itself felt before long even in this citadel of Christianity. The corruption of the prelates, headed by the bishop, Samuel, whose profligacy attained for him a notoriety proportionate to the dignity of the office he disgraced, drove the indignant Christians by hundreds into the fold of Islam. Those who remained faithful to the traditions of the Church were so persecuted that no resource was left to them but to join their brethren, many of whom had sacrificed their convictions from more ignoble motives than that of self-preservation. This wholesale desertion was greatly facilitated by the connivance of the inferior clergy, as well as by the open violence of the bishop and his coadjutors, who, corrupted by the Moslems, exerted themselves with far greater energy and success in obtaining proselytes to the religion of Mohammed than they had ever done in promoting the cause of Christ. In the end, the excesses of this unworthy prelate became so insufferable that he was removed from his see and divested of his sacred authority; whereupon he at once repaired to Cordova, and, having publicly renounced his faith, was rewarded with the lucrative employment of persecutor, an infamous office whose duties he discharged with all the malignant assiduity of the renegade. Long before the accession of Abdallah, the resentment of the Muwallads of Elvira, inflamed to the highest pitch, had broken out against their churlish neighbors, the Arab nobles, in acts of open hostility. The sympathies of the Jews of Granada seem to have been with the latter, who, on various occasions, were saved from destruction by the friendly walls of that city. Superior in numbers and equal in bravery to their adversaries, the result of every engagement was favorable to the renegades. As neither party was accustomed to give quarter, the struggle soon assumed the character of a war of extermination. In the year 889 a number of Syrian chieftains, who were visiting the capital of the province under the protection of a truce, were treacherously massacred in the streets, a catastrophe that gave the Muwallads, already sufficiently powerful, a momentary but uncontested ascendency. The Arabs, whose numbers had been depleted by many consecutive years of warfare, forgot, for the moment, their hereditary enmities, which no disaster, however serious, could entirely reconcile, in the engrossing passion of vengeance. They chose for their leader Sauwar, a venerable warrior whose declining age had been embittered by the bloody sacrifice of his only son to the fury of the renegades. His misfortunes had erased from his bosom every feeling of compassion, every suggestion of humanity. A brutal ferocity that regarded the slightest concession to the weakness of an enemy as a crime was the prominent characteristic of the sheik whom the Arabs now selected to restore their fallen fortunes. The first exploit of this savage warrior was the capture of Monte Sacro, a stronghold north of Granada which had been the scene of the greatest victory of the Muwallads and the occasion of the death of his beloved son. Notwithstanding its strength, the castle was carried at the first attack, and the garrison, six thousand in number, massacred to a man. Encouraged by his success and infuriated by the taste of blood, the desperate Sauwar sated to the full his thirst for retribution. The terror of his arms caused many towns to surrender without a blow. But submission conferred no indulgence, and the work went relentlessly on. No Muwallad who was so unfortunate as to fall into the hands of the Arabs escaped. A mere suspicion of Spanish or Gothic descent was deemed sufficient evidence of identity, and brought certain and speedy death. Even those conditions of helplessness which most readily appeal to the compassion of mankind were not considered in this indiscriminate proscription, and many distinguished families whose names were identified with some of the most conspicuous events of Roman and Visigothic annals were swept at one blow from the face of the earth.

This reign of terror, which threatened the extermination of their race, induced the renegades to appeal for assistance to Djad, the Arab governor of the province, whose authority they had disputed after refusing the customary tribute. Satisfied of their sincerity, he marched at the head of a considerable force against the formidable partisan. The result was a decisive victory for the Arabs; the bodies of seven thousand dead strewed the field of battle, and the governor remained a prisoner in the camp of the enemy.

The prestige acquired by Sauwar after these decisive advantages caused his alliance to be sought by many neighboring cities, among them Calatrava and Jaen. Reduced to despair, the Muwallad faction declared their willingness to renew their allegiance to the Emir. But the latter was powerless to render them any substantial assistance. The credit of the government was so low that it could scarcely pay the troops required for the defence of the capital. The personal qualities of Abdallah were not such as to enlist the sympathy or arouse the enthusiasm of the people, and thereby compensate, in some degree, for the deficiencies of the treasury. The governors of the provinces were, for all practical purposes, independent princes. Cordova was the residence of the flower of the Arab nobility, whose prejudices were all on the side of Sauwar and his followers in their efforts to exterminate the detested renegades, an enterprise which they regarded as little less meritorious than a crusade against an infidel foe. Willing but unable to exert his authority in behalf of his unfortunate subjects, the Emir decided to assume the less dangerous office of mediator. He therefore offered Sauwar the government of several cities on condition that he would acknowledge himself a vassal of the crown and cease his persecution of the renegades. This advantageous proposal was readily agreed to; the oath of allegiance was taken by both factions; hostilities were suspended, and, for the first time in many years, the province of Elvira was permitted to enjoy the blessings of public and private tranquillity.

Habituated to warfare and scenes of carnage, the active spirit of Sauwar chafed under the monotony and dullness entailed by civil drudgery and magisterial duties. The territory that Ibn-Hafsun had seized, and over which he ruled with despotic sway, extended to the borders of the province of Elvira. Unable to resist the temptation, Sauwar turned his attention to the adherents of that renowned champion of the Muwallads, and soon the valleys and hamlets of eastern Andalusia were visited with a scourge whose barbarity had no parallel since the invasion of the Vandals. The sympathy of their fellow-sectaries, the subjects of Sauwar, was enlisted in behalf of those who were sufferers in a common cause; the Muwallads of Elvira almost without exception rose in arms; and the Arabs, expelled from the city and chased in every direction, sought by a common impulse a temporary refuge in Granada.

The fortress of the Alhambra, a structure of remote and uncertain antiquity, is mentioned definitely for the first time during the civil wars of Elvira. It was known to the Arabs at least a century after the Conquest, as Ka’lat-al-Hamra, The Red Castle, and its commanding position and natural strength render it probable that it may have been the site of a citadel as early as the Carthaginian occupation. The whole of the Alhambra Hill was not enclosed, as at present, and, at the time under consideration, the fortifications were confined to the jutting point overlooking the present city and familiar to modern travellers as the Alcazaba. Abandoned by the government, and uncared for by the inhabitants, whose Jewish antecedents induced them to trust for their safety rather to their acuteness than to their courage, the venerable castle had fallen into decay. The repeated sieges which it had sustained in the incessant contests between rival factions had, in addition to the ruin produced by the effects of time and the action of the elements, greatly diminished its capacity for resistance. In their critical situation, where all depended on their individual exertions,—for no hope of reinforcements could be entertained,—the superstitious fears of the people, aided by the suggestions of a vivid imagination, found in each trivial incident a token of propitious or fatal augury. Fortunately for their cause, the favorable omens preponderated on the day when the besieging force, whose numbers amounted to twenty thousand, prepared to storm their intrenchments. With characteristic cunning the prudent Sauwar determined to counteract by stratagem the overwhelming superiority of his adversaries. Leaving the citadel, and unobserved in the confusion of battle, he suddenly appeared at the head of a picked detachment in the rear of the enemy. Completely surprised, the latter was at once thrown into confusion; the entire army took to flight, and the terrified renegades were pursued to the very gates of Elvira. The Muwallad army was completely destroyed. The entire province was in mourning. There was no household that did not lament the absence of one or more of its number, no soldier that did not deplore the loss of a comrade or a friend. In deep humiliation the remnant of the renegade host prepared to defend the capital to which but a few hours before they had expected to return in triumph. The elation of the Arabs exhibited itself in all the extravagant exultation peculiar to that impassioned race. The fame of Sauwar spread to the furthest limits of the Peninsula. His exploits were celebrated with varying partiality by the poets of both factions, whose interesting productions often compensate for the unsatisfactory accounts of the chronicler, and in their animated and graphic description of important events and distinguished personages contribute copious and invaluable information to the historian.

The disheartened members of the Muwallad faction now resolved to place themselves under the protection of Ibn-Hafsun. As yet, they had never asked his assistance, nor, what is even more remarkable, had tempted his ambition or incurred his hostility. The aspiring chieftain embraced with ardor a cause so congenial to his adventurous spirit. With a confidence born of many victories he encountered the Arabs in the field. The Muwallads were again defeated, however, and it was with difficulty that Ibn-Hafsun, badly wounded, and seeing decimated the ranks of the veterans who had been his reliance in a score of campaigns, effected his retreat and escaped to the mountains of Ronda.

The inhabitants of Elvira eventually succeeded in accomplishing by artifice what they had failed to do by arms, and Sauwar, lured with his escort into an ambuscade, was slaughtered. The brutal instinct of human nature that, foiled in its efforts against the living, finds a savage gratification in the mutilation of the dead, was exhibited in its most revolting aspect by the women of Elvira. With the cries of wild beasts they tore in pieces and devoured the corpse of their persecutor. This resort to cannibalism as a means of revenge appears to have been frequently practised in the wars of the Arabs and of those nations subjected to their domination. It is mentioned in the pre-Islamitic poems and traditions. A conspicuous instance, already referred to, occurred at the battle of Ohod. And examples are not wanting of the preservation of a custom aggravated by the rancor resulting from almost perpetual civil war under the Eastern and Western Khalifates, whose violation of the decencies of life would seem sufficient to disgust barbarians, to say nothing of nations long familiar with the amenities of society and the requirements of a comparatively advanced civilization.

The serious commotions which disturbed the peace of Elvira were no isolated instances of public disorder, but rather a type of what was afflicting the entire Peninsula. In Seville, the rebellious Arabs had by turns united with and opposed the renegades in defiance of the authority of the sovereign. The old metropolis of Bætica has, from its foundation, never relinquished its proud position as the capital of Southern Spain. Other cities have enjoyed the nominal title, but the Queen of Andalusia has always, under Carthaginian, Roman, Goth, and Arab, maintained an acknowledged and deserved pre-eminence. Its natural advantages were unsurpassed. It stood in the midst of one of the most fertile plains of Europe. The Guadalquivir brought the treasures of the East to its gates. Long the seat of the primate of the kingdom, its souvenirs gave it a peculiar sanctity in the eyes of the Christian. Its business facilities attracted a numerous and enterprising Hebrew colony. The blending of many races, the dominion of a score of dynasties, had imparted to the disposition of its inhabitants a peculiar character, an uncommon fertility of genius, a phenomenal activity of intellect. To their literary talents and stinging wit was added an inconstancy in political affiliations and religious belief that was often a subject of reproach and scandal. With a strange unanimity they had at the first suggestion of the substantial benefits of apostasy renounced the truths of the gospel. A magnificent mosque had been built to reward their subserviency, but neither the daily practice of the rites of Islam, the adoption of the Arabic language, nor the change of costume could eradicate those prominent mental characteristics which had been formed by the domestic life and time-honored traditions of twelve eventful centuries.

The same prejudices and national antagonism existed between the Muwallad and the Arab parties at Seville as at Elvira with the notable exception that their mutual dislike had not yet been embittered by deeds of blood. But the dangerous proximity of lawless Arab nobles occupying the fertile district of the Axarafe that skirted the Guadalquivir had early suggested to the renegades the propriety of making thorough preparations for defence. An organization had accordingly been formed, whose members were liable to a summons for active service, and which, in its regulations and military duties, bore a considerable resemblance to the militia of modern times.