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

by S. P. Scott

Early in the spring of the year 1002 the indefatigable Al-Mansur again invaded the territory of the Christians. This time his hostility was directed against the shrine of St. Emilian, the patron saint of Castile, whose church was in the village of Canales. The town, the chapel, and the convents, with all their paraphernalia of priestly imposture and superstition, were destroyed. But the renowned commander, whose prowess had so long sustained the reputation of the Moslem arms, had fought his last campaign. A painful malady, whose cause was unknown, and whose symptoms baffled the skill of the best physicians of Cordova, had some months before attacked him. The exposure and excitement of this expedition increased its violence. The illustrious sufferer became so weak that he was forced to travel in a litter. It was evident from his emaciated form and incessant agony that he was fast approaching his end. At Medina-Celi the army halted. Its general could proceed no farther. A universal feeling of sorrow arose as the sad tidings of the condition of the dying chieftain spread throughout the camp.

The memory of the turbulent populace of the capital, and the consciousness that it had required all the energy of his determined character to triumph over his domestic enemies, embittered the last moments of Al-Mansur. He dreaded the inauguration of anarchy and the resultant partition of the khalifate. He was only too well acquainted with the instability of the vast and magnificent fabric of greatness which his genius had reared. With a view to preserve as long as possible for his sons the power he was unable to legally transmit, he directed Abd-al-Melik to hasten at once to Cordova and assume command of the garrison. To his second son, Abd-al-Rahman, he transferred his authority over the army. Many wise injunctions were imparted by their dying parent to these two young officers, whose military character had been formed under his own eye during many eventful campaigns. The elder, who was not an unworthy descendant of so great a sire, profited largely by his opportunities. The younger, unequal to the task of government, was destined to realize the worst expectations his acquaintances had formed of his erratic and licentious nature.

His instructions ended, the strength of Al-Mansur gave way, and he received with calm resignation the inexorable summons of the Angel of Death. For years he had entertained a presentiment that he should end his days at the head of his army, perhaps in the heat of battle. It was not only his hope, but he made it the subject of his daily petitions, that Allah would vouchsafe to him the glorious privilege of dying in war against the infidel, thereby to merit the recompense of martyrdom. In expectation of a favorable answer to his prayers, the arrangements for his burial were always ready. His shroud was invariably included among the effects of his camp equipage. It was of linen made from flax grown on his paternal estate at Torrox and woven by the hands of his own daughters. His conscience told him that the material thus produced and prepared was not tainted with the bloody reminiscences that popular report insinuated too often attached to his other possessions. The provident statesman, whose aspirations were not confined to matters terrestrial, and carrying into his relations with Allah the same prudence which had distinguished his earthly career, neglected no precaution to insure his salvation. A well-known text of the Koran declares that he who appears before the Almighty with the dust of the Holy War upon his feet shall be exempt from the tortures of eternal fire. To secure this advantage on the Day of Judgment, Al-Mansur carried with him in all his campaigns a silver casket of elegant design, into which, every evening when the army halted, his attendants carefully collected the dust which had accumulated upon his garments during the day. Enveloped in the shroud prepared for so many years, and sprinkled with this holy dust, the body of the great Moslem general was laid at rest in the city of Medina-Celi.

The character of Mohammed-Ibn-Amir-Al-Mansur has already been partially delineated in these pages. In it both good and evil were unsparingly mingled. Beyond measure shrewd, politic, audacious, and resolute, he was an adept in instigating others to the commission of discreditable acts by which he profited, while his instruments alone endured the odium attaching to them. By the irresistible force of intellect he had risen from obscurity to the enjoyment of imperial power. No act of wanton cruelty ever polluted his administration. Yet such was his firmness and the fear in which he was held that no sedition during his ascendency disturbed the peace of the khalifate. His conduct on all occasions where his personal interests were not immediately concerned was, for the most part, guided by the principles of equity. His own son was sacrificed to the maintenance of public order. The deeds of violence and tyranny for which he was so grossly abused were the results of political necessity,—measures suggested by the pressing exigencies of the occasion, and dictated by the instinct of self-preservation. Born in a comparatively humble rank of life, his matrimonial alliances were sought by princes. The daughters of Bermudo, King of the Asturias, and Sancho, King of Navarre, were inmates of his harem. Despite his talents as a statesman and his long series of military triumphs, his popularity was superficial, and his position was maintained with difficulty. He was everywhere designated by the significant and opprobrious nickname of “The Fox.” His old literary associates envied and maligned him. The courtiers were jealous of his rapidly acquired fame, and sedulously depreciated his abilities. The eunuchs justly attributed to his agency the impairment of their political fortunes, and held him in detestation as the relentless enemy of their caste. The aristocracy sneered at his pretensions and privately denounced him as an insolent parvenu. The fanatical populace repeated his alleged atheistic speeches with pious horror, a feeling which even his ostentatious charity and apparently strict observance of the duties of a faithful Mussulman could not counteract. Inconsistent with the encouragement of literature, as the narrow policy which delivered the scientific works of the library of Al-Hakem to the tender mercies of ignorant bigots would seem to indicate, Al-Mansur was, nevertheless, a munificent patron of letters. His house was so frequented by men of genius and literary proclivities that it was compared to an academy. He often visited the University, listened to the lectures of the teachers, and rewarded the proficiency of the students. By his express orders the recitations were not suspended either at his entrance or his departure. Many of the most accomplished scholars of the East and West continued under his auspices, as they had done under those of Al-Hakem, to adorn the court, and to delight with their learning the critical and fastidious society of Cordova. A special fund, appropriated from the public treasury, was assigned for the support of these distinguished guests of the State. Famous grammarians, poets, and historians, who found this a lucrative field for the exercise of their talents, took up their residence in the capital. The reputations of the physicians and surgeons of Andalusia, now greater than ever, had long since spread to the remotest borders of Europe. Whenever Al-Mansur undertook an expedition, there followed in his train a number of bards and chroniclers, who could without delay record his achievements, and celebrate in the most stirring and pathetic strains of which the poesy of the Desert was capable the valor, the generosity, the piety, of the renowned champion of the Moslem faith. Forty-one of the most accomplished literary men of the empire accompanied the army for this purpose during the Catalonian campaign.

The enlargement of the Mosque, whose size was doubled by the additions of Al-Mansur, was undertaken quite as much to restore his failing credit with the ministers of religion as to accommodate the vast and increasing crowds which on Fridays assembled in the House of God. The land required for the extension was paid for at twice the valuation, already sufficiently exorbitant, estimated by the owners themselves. In the garden of an old woman, whose premises it was absolutely necessary for the architect to secure, stood a magnificent palm. At first she obstinately refused to sell her property, but after repeated solicitations she consented to exchange it for another residence in whose grounds was a tree of equal size and beauty. But even amidst the tropical vegetation of the environs of Cordova such a condition was not easily complied with. At length, in the vicinity of Medina-al-Zahrâ, an estate which possessed the desired requisite was procured at a fabulous price.

In imitation of his predecessors the khalifs, Al-Mansur performed for weeks the duties of a common laborer on the foundation and the superstructure of the Mosque. This addition, still intact, constructed of coarse materials and unsymmetrical in form, is readily distinguishable from the rest of the interior, whose sweeping horseshoe arches and exquisite decorations are models of grace and beauty. So meritorious was this work considered by the Mussulman theologians, that they declared that its accomplishment alone was sufficient to obtain for its author a seat in Paradise.

The energy of Al-Mansur was far from being consumed in military expeditions and the pursuit of glory. In the frequent intervals of peace his efforts were largely directed to improving the condition of his subjects, the highest and most noble title to distinction to which a ruler can aspire. He reformed the abuses which had crept into the administration of justice. He checked the peculations which were exhausting the treasury, by the institution of a rigid system of accounts and the severe punishment of dishonest officials. He sternly rebuked the intolerance of zealots who attempted to establish, without his sanction, a policy of persecution for opinions which they considered heretical. With his advent to power, the malignant influence of the eunuchs was no longer felt in the precincts of the court, and the uneasy genius of this pernicious class was diverted from the tortuous paths of political intrigue to the harmless and pleasing occupations of literature and art. He improved the breed of horses by the importation of the purest blood of Arabia. There was scarcely a river in Andalusia which could not boast of a bridge either built or repaired by the orders of the able and tireless minister. New highways were opened. Old ones were widened and extended. By these wise acts of public utility not only was the march of troops facilitated, but the trade of country and city was prodigiously increased, with a corresponding diminution of the price of provisions, whose abundance and cheapness materially benefited all classes of the population. The best commentary on his transcendent abilities is found in the fact that the empire which he had ruled with such glory and success perished with him. His majestic personality dominated everything. In the history of Islam no similar example of universally recognized individual superiority has ever been recorded. This extraordinary genius seemed impregnable to the temptations which usually assail the favorites of fortune. He was addicted to none of those unnatural vices whose practice defiled the characters of even the greatest of the Ommeyades. His harem was maintained rather as an accessory to his dignity than as an instrument of his pleasures. His amour with Aurora, which had provoked the sarcastic jests of the populace, had been from first to last a mere matter of policy. The passion of the Sultana he had deliberately used as the instrument of his ambition; when it had served his purpose it was as deliberately cast aside. With every opportunity for the accumulation of untold wealth, Al-Mansur acquired no more than was necessary to sustain the pomp incident to his exalted rank. Avarice had no place in his nature. His own treasure as well as that of the government he freely dispensed in charitable donations. The slightest act of extortion committed by one of his subordinates was met with chastisement that barely left the offender with life. No one who had merited his gratitude was ever forgotten in the distribution of official honors. No one whose insolence had at any time provoked his indignation went unpunished. In the accomplishment of his ambition, he persistently ignored the most obvious principles of morality. In his administration of petty offices of the inferior magistracy and of the highest employments of the state alike, he ordinarily observed the rules of the most impartial justice. After every victory gained by his arms he liberated hundreds of slaves.

A delusive appearance of moderation is suggested by the conduct of Al-Mansur, when we reflect that he denied himself the more than regal prestige which attached to the name of Commander of the Faithful. There is no doubt, however, that he ardently coveted that distinction. The possession of the substance of power did not satisfy his lofty aspirations. He arrogated to himself the remaining titles of the Khalif, as he had already appropriated the latter’s prerogatives. He substituted his own seal for that of the injured Hischem. He boldly assumed the right to appoint his son to the office of prime minister, the very employment from which he himself derived his entire authority. The brilliancy of his achievements, the extent of his renown, the autocratic exertion of his power, had awed and dazzled his subjects, but had not secured their attachment. The masses openly applauded and secretly detested him. The various nations composing the population of Moorish Spain, while mutually hostile in many respects, were firmly united in their reverence for the inalienable rights of the crown. The religious character which invested the Khalif deepened and intensified this feeling. The sagacity of Al-Mansur did not suffer him to be deluded with the idea that he could violate with impunity the most sacred opinions and prejudices of the people. Moreover, an ancient tradition, universally believed, declared that a change of the dynasty portended the speedy destruction of the khalifate. The man who in defiance of these ideas could attempt open usurpation was a public enemy, something worse, if possible, than a traitor. For these cogent reasons, therefore, Al-Mansur did not seize the royal office, which, had he been able to assume it, might perhaps have retained the succession in his own family. As it was, he weakened the veneration entertained for the principle of legitimacy, without acquiring for his descendants any permanent advantage in return for the sacrifice. No one realized these facts so thoroughly as himself. The future of the empire engrossed his thoughts. It presented itself to his mind amidst the deliberations of the Divan, in the literary discussions of the University, in the manœuvres on the field of battle. It disturbed his slumbers. It embittered his dying moments. The mortal torture he endured from the reflection that by his agency the integrity of the khalifate had been irretrievably impaired, and that he could not transmit the inheritance of his glory, was almost as intense as any he could have experienced through remorse for crimes perpetrated in the pursuit of his unrighteous ambition.

The history of the campaigns of Al-Mansur differs materially from that of the military enterprises of his predecessors. Heretofore, in all important wars, the Christians were the aggressors. But under the minister of Hischem the Moslems always led the attack. Other rulers had negotiated treaties either prompted by victory or compelled by defeat. In twenty-five years he never made terms with the infidel. His success became habitual, and infused a just confidence into his own followers, while in a corresponding degree it disheartened the enemy. Almost for the first time in the annals of Islam the peremptory injunction of the Koran was fulfilled to the letter. The effects of one campaign were not repaired before the calamities of another were at hand. The frontier to the Christian states receded. The great cities of Zamora, Leon, Astorga, Barcelona, Pampeluna, Santiago were levelled with the dust. Cathedrals and monasteries were plundered of wealth bestowed by pious sovereigns and generations of grateful devotees. The incomes of the priesthood ceased on account of the devastation of their estates. With the ruin of the religious houses and the impoverishment of their occupants, the Christian worship declined. The prestige of the ecclesiastical order was weakened, and over an extensive region once abounding with churches and convents scarcely a reminiscence of Christianity survived. By the successive desecration of the two holiest shrines in Europe, the faith of the multitude in the boasted efficacy of relics, in the celestial intercession of saints, and even in the value of religion itself, was seriously shaken. The misfortunes of the clergy—who still, however, retained a portion of their ancient discipline—reacted on the other divisions of society, already sufficiently demoralized. The monarch and the nobles evinced a disposition to resist the insolent demands of the priesthood, and have been, in consequence, anathematized by prelates and defamed by chroniclers. The king seized without ceremony the property of his subjects. The barons plundered the royal estates, and cast lots for the serfs and the flocks which they had appropriated. In less than twenty years the Christians lost all they had gained in the previous three hundred. Even the defiles of their mountains were occupied by Moorish garrisons, and the Asturian peasant was compelled to purchase the uncertain privilege of procuring his own sustenance by the surrender of the larger share of the results of his labor. Such were the effects of the policy of Al-Mansur on the two rival nations of the Peninsula, a policy whose benefits perished with the author, but whose evils were destined to be augmented and perpetuated through a long period of national misfortune and disorder.

Berber immigration, encouraged by the conspicuous favor enjoyed by the African divisions of the army, as well as by the rich rewards of successful warfare, and which was fated to inflict such disasters upon the dismembered monarchy, increased beyond precedent during the administration of Al-Mansur. Entire tribes passed the Strait to share the tempting spoil of the Holy War. There was no room for these ferocious soldiers in the crowded cities. Even in the country, so thickly populated, space could hardly be found for their encampments. Their tents were pitched in the pastures and on the slopes of the sierra. Their fierce aspect appalled all who beheld them. Their costumes and their arms were strange and foreign. Ignorant of Arabic, the guttural accents of their Mauritanian dialect grated upon the ears of the polished Andalusian. In times of the greatest victories, when the people were intoxicated with success, there were discerning men who dreaded the ascendency of such dangerous allies. It was, however, the inexhaustible supply of African recruits which secured the unbroken series of triumphs that signalized the career of Al-Mansur. Their numbers were overwhelming. In a review held before an expedition into the North, six hundred thousand troops were mustered in the plain of Cordova.