Calling into requisition all the resources of his government, this Moslem general marched into the Desert with twenty thousand soldiers, among them many of the companions of Mohammed and representatives of the most noble tribes of Arabia. After a few unimportant skirmishes, and a short but bloody engagement in which a division of the Greeks was entirely destroyed, the Arab army advanced to Tripoli, and, investing its walls, pushed forward the operations of the siege with an energy hardly to be expected from a people whose experience had been confined to marauding expeditions and the stratagems of partisan warfare. Under the dominion of the Byzantine emperors, the office of prefect had been substituted for that of the ancient proconsul; and this employment was not only charged with the execution of the laws relating to civil and military affairs, but also claimed jurisdiction over matters pertaining to the welfare of the church, the appointment of its ministers, and the enforcement of the canons of ecclesiastical discipline. The prefect Gregory, whose talents had been exercised, and whose prowess had been approved, in many negotiations and conflicts with the Berbers, at the head of a tumultuous and undisciplined force of one hundred and twenty thousand men, moved forward to the relief of Tripoli. Abandoning the siege, the Arabs accepted the challenge, and a series of battles ensued without decided advantage upon either side, until the prefect, mortified that the numerical superiority of his troops should be neutralized by the desperate courage of his adversaries, offered the hand of his beautiful daughter—who, completely armed, was each day conspicuous in the ranks of the vanguard—and a purse of one hundred thousand pieces of gold to any one who would bring him the head of the Moslem general. The courage of Abdallah, although he had faced death in a hundred forms, was not proof against this effort of his wily antagonist, and, remaining idly in his tent, he left the conduct of operations to the care of his lieutenants. In the mean time there arrived at the Arab camp a small detachment headed by Ibn-al-Zobeir, a warrior of distinction, who heard with contempt of the pusillanimous conduct of the general. Seeking him, he denounced his cowardice, suggesting that he should retaliate by the offer of a similar sum, and the prefect’s daughter as a slave, to whoever should cast at his feet the head of the Greek commander. The advice was taken; the tempting reward was published throughout the camp; the Arab youth were fired by emulation to redoubled efforts; and Abdallah himself, shamed into action, again appeared in the front of battle. But the overwhelming numbers of the Greeks, inspired by the example of a few legions which yet retained the traditions of Roman steadiness and discipline, and supported by the rapid evolutions of the Numidian cavalry, famous from the days of Jugurtha, still rendered the issue doubtful, and by repeated engagements the ranks of the Arabs were being constantly diminished. Again the talents of Ibn-al-Zobeir were called into requisition; the battle was renewed as usual at daybreak; and when the blazing sun had exhausted the strength of the combatants, both armies retired to the shelter of their tents. But the Moslems had not all been engaged, and a division composed of troops, selected for their bravery and commanded by the intrepid Ibn-al-Zobeir, burst suddenly like a thunderbolt upon the hostile camp.
Seized with a panic, as they were reposing after the arduous struggle of the day, the ranks of the enemy were broken, the prefect was killed, and the camp given over to pillage. A rich booty and innumerable captives compensated the victors for their trials; the beauteous Amazon became the slave of Ibn-al-Zobeir; and, after the capture of the important city of Sufetela, the entire district acknowledged the authority of the Khalif. The ravages of disease, the losses resulting from a series of engagements lasting for months, and the lack of reinforcements, made it impossible for Abdallah to garrison the towns, or to retain in subjection the restless tribes of the interior; and he consented, with alacrity, to accept a bribe of two million five hundred thousand dinars and abandon the conquest. The spoil was sent to Medina, and Othman further incurred the charges of injustice and nepotism by presenting Abdallah with the royal fifth, and by permitting his cousin Merwan to purchase the remainder at the low valuation of three hundred talents of gold.
For nearly a quarter of a century, the civil wars provoked by the conflicting claims of the various aspirants to the throne of the khalifate and the succeeding political establishments left in security the Greek possessions of the West. The Byzantine court learned with amazement of the enormous ransom with which the inhabitants of Africa had purchased the withdrawal of the invaders; and its avarice was excited when it considered the resources of a country which could collect so large a sum after having, for generations, been subject to the rapacious inquisition of the imperial tax-gatherers. Without delay, the Emperor demanded a contribution of the same amount as unpaid tribute; and all the mechanism of extortion was employed, to complete the ruin of his already impoverished subjects. Oppressed beyond endurance, the Africans sent an embassy headed by the Patriarch himself to Damascus, and reciting their grievances, described in glowing terms to Muavia the wealth of their country and the advantages which must accrue to the Moslems from its possession. The Khalif, deeply impressed by their representations, ordered Ibn-Hajij, governor of Egypt, to undertake the conquest; but the enterprise was not carried out with the customary vigor of the Saracens, and resulted only in the partial occupancy of the coast and the subjection of a few unimportant cities. The permanent establishment of Mussulman rule dates, however, from this expedition, and henceforth the standard of Islam, although often furled before the intrepid spirit of the Berbers, was advanced, foot by foot, to the far distant shores of the Western Ocean. The most successful commander, and the one who alone, excepting Musa, made the most enduring impression upon the valiant and treacherous barbarians of Al-Maghreb, was Okbah-Ibn-Nafi, who was next invested with the command. Entering the hostile region at the head of ten thousand veteran cavalry, he made war with the same resolution and uncompromising spirit which marked the careers of the daring Amru and Khalid, “The Sword of God.” The Christians who refused, by either submission or conversion, to acknowledge the divine origin of Islam were ruthlessly slaughtered; but the orders of the Khalif explicitly prohibited the equipment or use of naval armaments, and the seaports of the Greeks escaped, for the time, the fate which was inevitable. The Berbers, beholding with wonder the apparently invincible character of their enemy, equally fortunate in plain and mountain fastness, defeating with ease their bravest squadrons, and scaling, despite all obstacles, the all-but impregnable defences of their strongholds, clothed him with the attributes of divinity, and, submitting to his dominion, recognized the power of the Khalif, while at the same time, abjuring their idolatry, they confessed the unity and majesty of God. The advance of Okbah was the triumphant progress of a conqueror. Almost unresisted, he traversed the regions peopled by hordes of fierce barbarians, until, having penetrated to the Atlantic, he rode his horse into its seething waters, and, drawing his sword, cried out, “God is great! Were I not hindered by this sea, I would go forward to the unknown kingdoms of the West, proclaiming the greatness of Thy Holy Name and subduing those nations who worship other gods than Thee!”
The moral effect of the expedition of Okbah, which familiarized the nations of the north of Africa with the doctrines of Islam, was of far more importance than the spoil collected by the victorious army, which was, in itself, not inconsiderable. The wealth of the Berbers, ignorant as they were of the mechanical arts and the elegant appliances of luxury, was confined to flocks and herds; but the beauty and fascinations of their women aroused the passions of the conquerors, and many of them subsequently commanded in the markets of Alexandria and Damascus the extraordinary price of a thousand mithcals of gold. The inconstant character of the tribes of Mauritania and the Atlas, amenable only to the restraints of military power, and to whom conversion and apostasy were mere matters of temporary expediency, suggested to the sagacious mind of Okbah the necessity for the establishment of a fortified post in the territory of this active and formidable enemy. An inland position was selected, to avoid the attacks of the naval forces of Constantinople, and, despite the serious physical disadvantages of barrenness, drought, and excessive heat, a city was built, to which was given the name of Kairoan; a metropolis destined in after times to attain to an important rank in the annals of the dynasties of Africa. The walls were of brick, with flanking towers, and embraced six miles in circuit. The foundations of a mosque, an edifice measuring two hundred and twenty by one hundred and fifty cubits, were laid; its seventeen naves were adorned with the plundered marbles of Utica and Carthage; the graceful proportions of its minaret and the elegance of its mural decorations are still proverbial in the Mohammedan world. The bazaar of the city lined a street three miles in length; its schools became the resort of the learned; the authority of its muftis on points of doctrine was indisputable; and, as the seat of the viceroy of the Khalif, it long maintained its political importance.
The implacable and perfidious spirit of the Berbers, whom no treaties could control, now broke out in the prosecution of petty hostilities, which the scattered forces of the Moslems were powerless to prevent. Forays were made upon isolated settlements, flocks were driven off, hamlets given to the flames, and even the security of the rising colony of Kairoan was threatened. Emboldened by their success, the Berber chief’s confederated for the total destruction of the Moslems. Koceila, an influential chieftain, who had been wantonly insulted and maimed by Okbah and was now kept a close prisoner in the camp, was the moving spirit of the conspiracy. Learning too late of the plan of the enemy, Okbah was compelled to weaken his army, and while a detachment for the relief of Kairoan was on the march, it was suddenly attacked near Tehuda by an overwhelming force of barbarian cavalry. The little band of Mussulmans, less than four hundred in number, seeing the hopelessness of the contest, commended themselves to God, and, casting away their scabbards, perished to a man, scimetar in hand. The tombs of these martyrs are still objects of veneration to the devout, and Zab, where they are situated, enjoys the sanctity, privileges, and lucrative trade of a place of pilgrimage. The Franks and Berbers with their usual inconstancy now flocked to the standard of Koceila, who assumed the title of an independent sovereign and for five years remained the undisputed ruler of Ifrikiyah. At the expiration of that period, a fresh army of Arabs under Zoheir defeated the Berbers in a decisive battle, and, Koceila having been killed, the lieutenant of the Khalif again asserted his unstable authority. It was not long before the new governor Zoheir succumbed to the treachery of the cunning barbarians, and the Khalif Abd-al-Melik imposed upon Hassan, Viceroy of Egypt, the task which had foiled the skill and energy of so many of his predecessors. But none of the latter had mustered such a force, or could have controlled such vast resources, as did the new commander-in-chief. His office, as Governor of Egypt, placed at his disposal the enormous wealth of that fertile country, and he marched out of Alexandria at the head of a thoroughly equipped army of forty thousand veterans. He was well provided with scaling ladders and the various engines for the siege of fortified places, while the success of the Moslems in the East had inspired them with confidence, and afforded experience in the attack upon fortifications, a branch of warfare in which they had at first been entirely deficient. Resolving to reduce the strongholds of the coast, which were still in possession of the Greeks, Hassan, after traversing the region which had been desolated, and partially colonized by former commanders, advanced at once upon Carthage. This famous city, which had preserved, amidst unparalleled disaster, the prestige and the traditions of its former greatness, was still the capital of Africa and the seat of the imperial prefect. The power of Phœnicia, almost omnipotent in the maritime world of the ancients, founded upon boundless wealth, upon extensive acquaintance with distant lands and peoples, upon scientific secrets, whose importance was exaggerated by mystery, and upon the undisputed dominion of the seas, had been transmitted to Carthage, her favorite and most important colony. A brief notice of the history of the latter, so intimately connected with the fortunes of every nation of ancient and modern Europe, is not foreign to an account of the Mohammedan conquest of Africa, nor to that of the subsequent occupation of Spain. For, inspired by her example, from her harbor issued the first naval expedition of the Moslems in the West, which ravaged the coasts of Sardinia, threatened the Greek empire, and subdued the Balearic Isles. The invention of the compass, popularly but erroneously attributed to the sailors of Amalfi, it has been conjectured, with some degree of probability, was in reality a legacy of Tyre to Carthage; and it is certain that the peculiar properties of the magnet, designated the Stone of Hercules, were familiar to the mariners of those cities, who employed it in divination and in the secret ceremonies of their temples upon the shores of every sea. The straight sword of the Spanish Arab, so different from the curved blade of the Orient, is the sword of the Carthaginian; a weapon which, subsequently adopted by Rome from Iberia, conquered the world, including the African warriors who invented it. The cap of the Basque is a modification of the old Punic, or Phrygian, head covering, still worn by the Jewesses of Tunis, and which, in our day, has been adopted as one of the emblems of Liberty. The toga of Rome and the burnous of the Arab can be traced to the same origin, being derived by Carthage from Phœnicia, and by the latter from Lydia; and the names, customs, traditions, and ceremonies of modern Spain suggest daily, to the intelligent observer, the enduring impressions produced by the domination of the ancient Queen of the Mediterranean. Even in her ruin did Carthage contribute to the progress of science and the well-being of humanity. The cathedral of Pisa, under whose dome Galileo pursued his experiments and perfected the pendulum-clock, was constructed of the marbles of her palaces; and the unrivalled mosque of Cordova, the centre of mediæval learning, in whose precincts was the finest library of the age, still contains hundreds of columns, around whose shafts once curled the wreaths of incense that rose from the altars of the Tyrian Hercules. But far more important than all else was the influence exerted upon the Arab invaders by the defaced and shattered memorials of her departed grandeur. Despite the effects of Roman hate and vengeance, the destructive energy of Genseric, and the shameless neglect of the Byzantine emperors, Carthage was still a great and beautiful city. Many of her stately edifices were preserved; her temples, towering in their pristine majesty, beckoned the anxious mariner to her prosperous shores; her harbors with their colonnades were still intact, and it was with no ordinary emotions that the Moslem looked upon these evidences of the taste and civilization of one of the most opulent and renowned capitals of antiquity. The Phœnicians, by their proximity to and regular intercourse with the highly cultivated races of Assyria and Egypt, had added immeasurably to their stock of learning, and eagerly disseminated among their colonies the notions of politics, philosophy, and science, which they had imbibed in their periodical voyages to the banks of the Euphrates and the Nile. And as from Asia Minor, plainly disclosed in the myth of Cadmus, first emanated that knowledge of letters and the arts, which, expanding with a prodigious development, culminated in the matchless creations of the Grecian sculptor and the Grecian muse; so to the northern coast of Africa can be traced the dawn of that inspiration of refinement and taste which awakened in the minds of the rude and warlike nomads of the Desert a desire for something better than the subjugation of barbarian tribes, something more enduring than the costly pageants of military glory.
Settled almost thirteen centuries before the Christian era, and inheriting from the parent city of Tyre that spirit of enterprise which had gained for the latter the carrying trade of the world, at the time of the foundation of Rome, Carthage was already the wealthiest and most polished state on the shores of the Mediterranean. Her inhabitants, rather inclined to peaceful occupations and the luxurious ease that prosperity confers than to the privations of the camp and the dangers of the field, usually enlisted mercenaries to prosecute their conquests. When at the height of her power, her armies, which had penetrated the mysterious depths of the Libyan and Ethiopian deserts, and whose prowess had been displayed alike in the defiles of Sicily and upon the plains of the Bætis, had subjected to her authority a wide extent of territory, and more than three hundred towns in Africa alone, many of them places of considerable magnitude. In the Spanish Peninsula, whence she drew her supplies of the precious metals, she employed in the silver mines fifty thousand men. The most assiduous care was paid to agriculture, and the extraordinary fertility of the soil, yielding with ease one hundred and fifty fold, was assisted by an equable climate and a scientific and extensive system of irrigation. The substantial character of the public works of the capital is evinced by the ruins of the cisterns and the aqueduct, which have defied the storms and revolutions of two thousand years. But it was chiefly in commercial affairs that the Carthaginians asserted their immeasurable superiority over all their contemporaries. Their merchants, whose enterprise was proverbial, were familiar with some of the ingenious expedients that, in our day, among civilized nations, so facilitate and simplify important business transactions. The most remarkable of these described by Latin writers were certain pieces of leather which, when folded in a peculiar manner, and sealed to prevent forgery, readily passed as money, undoubted precursors of our bank-notes and bills of exchange. They seem to have had also well-defined ideas of the fiscal and other regulations demanded by the exigencies of foreign trade, such as banking, insurance, and duties on imports.
Until the conclusion of the second Punic War, no noticeable progress had been made in the arts at Rome, and the total destruction of Carthage was, in this respect, as in many others, of incalculable advantage to her fortunate adversary. Among the treasures procured at the sack of the city are mentioned, besides paintings and statues, gold and silver vessels of curious workmanship, and so valuable that the portion reserved for the triumph of the victor amounted to a sum equal to eight million dollars. In the spoil were also included beautiful mosaics, and incredible quantities of precious stones, articles of luxury especially prized by the Carthaginians, and which they knew how to engrave with surprising skill. These exquisite models, perfected by the labors of countless generations, were not without a decided effect in promoting the education and stimulating the ambition of the Roman designers and artisans. We learn from Appian that there were many libraries in the city, which also boasted not a few writers of note, but none of their productions have been preserved, and the only native author whose fame has reached posterity is Terence, a liberated slave, who, at the age of twenty-five, delighted the critical audiences of the Roman theatres with the flights of his precocious genius. Some estimate may be formed of the military and naval power of Carthage, when we recall the fact that during the Sicilian wars, which lasted twenty-four years, she lost, in a single battle, five hundred ships of the largest size, together with an army of one hundred and fifty thousand men, without sensibly impairing her resources or retarding her career of conquest. Had a similar misfortune befallen any contemporaneous state it could hardly have survived the shock. The equipage and plate of the Carthaginian generals were of the most sumptuous description, and they went into action bearing magnificent bucklers embossed with medallion portraits of their owners in massy gold.
Occupying the centre of the Southern Mediterranean coast, and accessible to every port frequented by traders, Carthage was speedily enabled to profit to the utmost by those advantages of geographical position that paved the way to her political and maritime ascendency. At her left hand were the Pillars of Hercules, and the channel through which passed the trade of Spain and Britain; at her right the inexhaustible granaries of Egypt; in front of her, the quarries, mines, and slave-marts of Italy and Greece; in her rear the gold and gems of Libya. Upon a peninsula, whose isthmus was defended by a triple wall, lay the city, embracing a circuit of twenty-three miles, and containing a population of nearly a million. Inside the fortifications, on the east, was the Kothon, a double harbor, consisting of two circular basins connected by a canal sixty feet wide, barricaded with enormous iron chains. The outer and larger basin, six thousand feet in circumference, was destined for the use of merchantmen; the inner one was reserved exclusively for galleys and men-of-war. Both were surrounded by docks, storehouses, quarters for marines, and arsenals, and were approached by splendid Ionic porticos and colonnades of white marble. In the centre of an island in the inner harbor, at whose quays two hundred vessels could ride securely at anchor, rose the castle of the admiral who directed all manœuvres at the sound of trumpet. Immediately over the Kothon, on an elevation that commanded it, stood the famous Byrsa, or citadel. Its wall rose to the height of sixty-five feet, and was flanked by numerous towers; adjoining the latter were stables for four thousand horses and three hundred elephants, and barracks that could accommodate a garrison of twenty-four thousand men. Eighteen cisterns, seven of which are still intact, each ninety-three feet long by twenty wide and twenty-eight feet deep, connected by a tunnel with reservoirs in the suburbs, furnished an abundant supply of water. The highest point of the Byrsa was occupied by the temple of Æsculapius, the tutelary deity of the city, and although, in fact, an almost impregnable fortress, the skill of the engineer had thoroughly disguised its formidable character. It was situated above a series of terraces, resembling the hanging gardens of Assyria, and was reached by superb marble staircases adorned with beautiful statues, urns, and other works of art. Slabs of porphyry and verd-antique covered its walls; its arcades were paved and encrusted with mosaics; and the veneration in which it was held by the people was attested by the gorgeous appointments of its shrine. But the fane of Æsculapius, with all its splendor, was not without many rivals in the African metropolis. The religion of the Carthaginians, originally astronomical and profoundly symbolic, had centuries before discarded the purer forms of astral worship for a debased and cruel polytheism. The different wards of the city were named from the various deities whose altars they contained. West of the Kothon was the temple of Apollo, and adjoining it the shrine of Melcareth, or Hercules—whose precincts no woman was suffered to enter, and whose priests, assuming the vow of chastity, went barefoot and with shaven crowns—stood side by side with the fragrant gardens within whose mystic groves were celebrated, amidst indescribable orgies, the licentious rites of the Phœnician Astarte. Nearer the sea was the grand temple of the African Baal, the Moloch of the Hebrews, surrounded by a labyrinth and covered with three concentric domes, which, open above like that of the Pantheon at Rome, permitted the rays of the sun at high meridian to descend upon the brazen image of the god.
The other edifices of the African capital were, in richness and splendor, eminently worthy of its temples and its citadel. The vast commerce of Carthage placed at its command the resources of all antiquity. No labor or expense was spared in architectural decoration. On the façade of its theatre, which rose for seven stories in tiers of graceful arches, were sculptured the forms of animals, the effigies of famous artisans, the figures of military commanders, and symbolical representations of the elements, the seasons, and the winds. The circus, inferior in extent only to that of Rome, was supported by fluted columns of such enormous size that twelve men could sit with ease upon the edge of one of their capitals towering a hundred feet above the arena. In the principal square, the reservoir, fed by the great aqueduct, was surrounded by balustrades and arches. All of these public works were of white marble, which glittered like crystal under the rays of a southern sun. The taste which designed them was the result of three thousand years of civilization. Every nation of the ancient world had contributed its share to their symmetry, their value, their magnificence. The beauty of the material was enhanced a thousand-fold by the incomparable elegance of the sculpture and the ornamentation.
The Megara, a suburb of Carthage, contained the country-seats and palaces of the nobility, some of them built, like the houses of Venice, upon piles and arches in the sea. It was an immense park seamed with canals and rivulets, whose waters were conveyed by conduits from the mountains sixty miles away. The reservoirs of the Megara, so extensive that they now constitute an Arab village, were constructed in the same substantial manner as the cisterns of the Byrsa. On a promontory above them was the necropolis, where the ashes of the dead were deposited in countless niches hewn in the living rock.