The news of the death of the potent minister was received by the majority of the inhabitants of the capital with a feeling of exultation. With the multitude, his eminent services could not atone for the obscurity of his birth or the splendor of his fortune. The animosities of contending sects, the jealousies of competing tradesmen, the envy of the masses towards the powerful, the disdain of the wealthy for the poor, were forgotten in the common desire to humiliate the family of the great chieftain through whose genius the Moslem empire had enjoyed such an extraordinary measure of prosperity and fame. An insurrection broke out. The mob, surrounding the palace, demanded that the Khalif in person should assume the direction of affairs. But the latter, who now, more than ever, felt his incompetency to govern, again voluntarily renounced the rights of sovereignty. The tumult increased; the garrison was called out, and Al-Modhaffer signalized his accession as hajib by the massacre of several hundred citizens. This example of severity was not soon forgotten; the spirit of revolt was crushed, and Al-Mansur, who on his death-bed had foreseen the occurrence of a similar catastrophe, thus averted by his prophetic wisdom a rebellion, which, unchecked, must have been productive of appalling consequences. The prince, Al-Modhaffer, inherited in no small degree the military talents and capacity for civil affairs possessed by his father, whose maxims he in the main adopted. Few details exist relative to his administration, which, however, was eminently popular and successful. The expeditions he made into the Christian territory were not attended with the brilliant results which characterized the exploits of his father. Neither profit nor glory could be derived from the invasion of a desert and the chase of bands of wandering robbers. These forays, however, served the useful purpose of intimidation, and impeded the recovery of the Christian power. Relieved from the prodigality and great military expenses incurred by the aggressive policy of Al-Mansur, the inexhaustible resources of the Peninsula were permitted to develop to the utmost. Commerce, manufactures, agriculture, flourished to a degree heretofore unknown. The rule of Al-Modhaffer is regretfully alluded to by subsequent writers as coincident with the golden age of Moslem annals.
After a reign of seven years, Al-Modhaffer died, under circumstances which raised a strong suspicion of poison. By a previous arrangement, which popular rumor suggested as the motive of his death, his office was transferred to his brother, Abd-al-Rahman. The latter was the offspring of a Christian princess, the daughter of Sancho, King of Navarre. By his vices and his blasphemy he had incurred the dislike of the people and provoked the execration of the theologians. The former, in memory of his infidel grandfather, fastened upon him the diminutive “Sanchol,” an epithet of contempt. The latter recounted with indignant horror his immoderate indulgence in wine and his open ridicule of the sacred ceremonies of Islam. Aware of his unpopularity, Abd-al-Rahman nevertheless continued to outrage public sentiment, and made no attempt to gain the attachment of his subjects or to conciliate his ecclesiastical adversaries. He even had the audacity to ask of Hischem his investiture and acknowledgment as heir presumptive to the throne. The Khalif was prevailed upon, partly by sophistry, partly by threats, to comply with this extravagant and impolitic demand, and an edict was drawn up in due form and published, proclaiming the detested Sanchol heir to the titles and the authority of the illustrious dynasty of the Ommeyades.
No measure could have been devised by his most bitter enemy so fatal to the aspirations of its promoter as this concession wrung from a reluctant and persecuted sovereign. It was alike an insult to religion and to loyalty. It attacked the sacred character of the Successor of the Prophet, while attempting to abrogate the prerogatives which, in the eye of the devoted subject, were inseparable from the condition of sovereignty. Sanchol further increased the prevailing discontent by compelling the soldiers to discard the helmet for the turban, an innovation which, appropriating a distinctive portion of the attire of theologians, was generally regarded as a flagrant act of sacrilege.
Careless of public opinion, and confident of the stability of his power, Sanchol began to entertain aspirations to military distinction. He led an expedition into the Asturias, the results of which were not flattering to his vanity. The mountain defiles, filled with snow, impeded his progress, and the scarcity of provisions, which he had neglected to provide in sufficient quantities, finally compelled him to retreat. In the mean time Cordova was in revolt. A band of conspirators headed by Mohammed, a great-grandson of Abd-al-Rahman III., surprised the citadel. The unfortunate Hischem, the puppet of every faction, was compelled to abdicate. The religious fanatics and the populace hailed the change of government with extravagant expressions of joy, a feeling by no means shared by the wealthy and intelligent, who anticipated with undisguised concern the destructive tyranny of a succession of military adventurers.
The first act of Mohammed was the seizure of Zahira. The stronghold of the Amirides was entered and sacked by an infuriated rabble. For four days the beautiful palace founded by Al-Mansur was at the mercy of the revolutionists and outlaws of the capital. The long rows of villas, which, embosomed in shady groves of palm- and orange-trees, stretched away to the Guadalquivir, were visited with the same destruction. Everything portable, even to the woodwork, was removed. No estimate could be made of the plunder secured by the mob, who ransacked every apartment; but the soldiers of Mohammed delivered to their master two million one hundred thousand pieces of silver and a million five hundred thousand pieces of gold. The torch was then applied and the entire suburb was reduced to ashes. The stones were gradually appropriated for the construction of other buildings, and in a few years the memory as well as the ruins of the seat of the Amirides had completely vanished.
When the intelligence of these events was transmitted to Sanchol at Toledo, he set out at once with his army for Cordova. The march had scarcely begun before he experienced the full extent of his unpopularity, which heretofore he had refused to believe. His force was diminished daily by desertions. Many of the soldiers who remained refused to obey their officers. At a short distance from the capital, the Berbers, on whom he placed his main reliance, left the camp at midnight, and morning found the commander with a slender retinue, whose number did not equal that of his ordinary body-guard. Notwithstanding these ominous indications, the infatuation of Sanchol, who fancied that the people of Cordova would, by the mere effect of his presence, be induced to return to their allegiance, urged him on to his ruin. He was seized by the troops of Mohammed, beheaded, his body clothed in rags and nailed to a stake, and then placed with the head—which was impaled on a pike—in one of the most public quarters of the city. With the death of Sanchol, the rule of the Amirides, who, in a subordinate capacity, had for a generation exercised despotic power, and whose policy was destined to visit upon their countrymen a long series of misfortunes, terminated forever.
The pernicious effects of the practical usurpation of Al-Mansur now became apparent. The ambition of every aspiring partisan was encouraged by the example of that gifted leader whose extraordinary talents had raised him to such a height of affluence and renown.
Mohammed was no sooner fairly seated upon the throne, when the populace again began to murmur. The excitement of revolution, once enjoyed, was too pleasant to be abandoned for the severe restraints of law and social order. And in reality only too much cause existed for popular dissatisfaction. The new sovereign was cruel, rapacious, dissolute. He took the heads of rebellious vassals sent him by his generals, had them cleansed, and the skulls—in which flowers had been planted—arranged in fantastic designs in the garden of his palace. His drunken and licentious orgies were the reproach of the court. He alienated the theologians, who soon discovered that they had made a bad exchange for even the dissipated and impious Sanchol. He persecuted the Berbers, who had inherited the vices and the unpopularity of the eunuchs, but who for a quarter of a century had been the support of the monarchy. To avoid the possible restoration of Hischem, he publicly announced his death, substituted for his corpse that of a Christian killed for the occasion, and who bore a striking likeness to the Khalif, and celebrated his obsequies with all the magnificence due to departed royalty. The performance of the rites of Mussulman burial over the body of an infidel was, in the eyes of every true believer, a deed of unparalleled infamy. The unpopularity of Mohammed increased daily. A sedition broke out headed by Hischem, a grandson of Abd-al-Rahman III., who boldly demanded the crown of his kinsman. The usurper pretended to accede, and secretly despatched emissaries to incite the Berbers to plunder the capital. The scheme was successful; at the first appearance of these detested foreigners in the market-place, the tradesmen arose in a body and, aided by the royal body-guard, drove the Africans from the city. The pretender was taken in the confusion attending the skirmish and immediately executed.
His place was filled by Suleyman, another prince of the Ommeyade line. Negotiations were entered into with the Count of Castile, who, in consideration of the surrender of certain territory, agreed to furnish a large contingent of men and horses. As soon as their organization was effected, the Berbers marched on the capital. A battle was fought on the plain of Cantich, but the disorderly rabble of Cordova were unable to resist the fierce onset of the African cavalry, and ten thousand of the partisans of Mohammed fell by the sword or perished in the Guadalquivir. Mohammed then liberated Hischem, whose supposed corpse he had buried, resigned his dignity, and proclaimed the son of Al-Hakem sovereign of Spain. But the ruse had no effect. The Cordovans admitted the Berbers, and Suleyman occupied the palace of the khalifs.
Henceforth the story of the Peninsula is one of anarchy and ruin. Every province, every hamlet, was a prey to the hatred of contending parties intensified by the daily infliction of mutual outrages. Christian mercenaries, paid with the plunder of the enemy, served in the armies of both factions. The peasantry were robbed and butchered without mercy. Cordova was repeatedly sacked by the Catalan auxiliaries, by the Berbers, by ruthless mobs of its own citizens. It endured all the privations of a protracted siege, all the unspeakable horrors of famine and pestilence. While the capital was invested by the Berbers, the suburb of Medina-al-Zahrâ was taken by these savage warriors. Every being within its limits was slaughtered. The favorite seat of the khalifs, on whose construction for forty years the wealth of the empire had been lavished by Abd-al-Rahman and Al-Hakem, was utterly destroyed. The treasury was empty, and Wadhih, the governor of Cordova under Hischem,—who had again been made khalif,—was forced to sell the greater portion remaining of the library of Al-Hakem to obtain money to pay his troops. At length the Berbers took the city by assault. The inhabitants dearly expiated the predilection for revolt which they had so frequently manifested. The butchery was frightful. Families conspicuous for wealth were reduced in a few hours to abject poverty. The gutters ran with blood. Heaps of unburied corpses encumbered the streets. The famous scholars who had been attracted to Spain from every country in the world perished almost to a man. No considerations of mercy, policy, or religion restrained the brutal instincts of the victors. Women and children were cut down or trampled to death. Crowds of trembling suppliants, who had sought refuge in the mosques, were massacred. The sanctity of the harems was violated with every attendant circumstance of lust and cruelty. Palaces erected by the ambition of a proud and opulent nobility were burned to ashes. With the accession of Suleyman, an edict confiscating the property of the citizens whom the public misfortunes had least affected, and banishing the owners, was promulgated, and the ferocious Africans, who had dealt such a fatal blow to the civilization of Europe, and in a few months had overturned a fabric which the intelligence and energy of a line of great princes had hardly been able to complete in two hundred years, appropriated the seraglios, and installed themselves in the few remaining mansions whose luxurious appointments and magnificent gardens had long been the boast of the Moslem capital.