The strange fatality which preserved for future greatness and renown the broken fragments of the Visigothic monarchy, even now at the very outset, when it seemed inevitable that the entire Peninsula should become Mohammedan, asserted its mysterious power. Tarik had reached Astorga and Musa was still at Lugo, when a message was delivered from the Khalif Al-Walid ordering both generals to return to Damascus. This step had been resolved upon, not so much on account of the mutual hostility of the two leaders which, manifested even in their despatches, seriously impaired the prestige of the Moslem arms and menaced the stability of the Moslem conquests, as from fear lest the ambition of Musa might lead him to usurp the sovereignty of the newly acquired possessions. Prudential considerations also prevented the appointment of Tarik as governor of the Peninsula. His popularity was even greater than that of Musa, and the remote situation of the conquered territory was but too favorable for the establishment of an independent monarchy, whose subjection in case of rebellion would be difficult, if not impossible. The aspiring genius of the veteran commander had formed a vast scheme of conquest, a project so grand as at first sight to appear extravagant, yet which, after careful examination, might be considered far from impracticable. It was his wish to emulate the example and surpass the achievement of Hannibal by traversing Europe, and to meet before the walls of Constantinople an army which could co-operate with him in the siege and capture of the Byzantine capital. Had this gigantic design been realized, the domain of the Khalifate of Damascus would have far exceeded the limits of the Roman Empire. He had seen with what ease the Visigothic kingdom, possessed of incalculable wealth, and animated by the military traditions of three centuries, had been subverted in a day. The unprecedented success of their recent military operations had induced the fanatical and credulous soldiery to regard themselves as the special favorites of Allah. It was moreover a matter of common notoriety that the able chieftain who had crushed, and then converted, the hitherto independent tribes of the Libyan Desert and the Atlas Mountains, and swept resistlessly over the plains of the Peninsula, had, in campaigns which extended over an entire generation, never failed in an enterprise or lost a battle. The very mention of a crusade against the infidel roused the wildest passions in the Moslem’s heart. Unlimited treasure was available for any undertaking, however extensive; a consideration of but little moment, however, with a force accustomed to be paid in booty, and whose subsistence was wrested from the enemy. The barbarian monarchy of France, perpetually vexed by internal dissensions, was not likely to offer more serious impediments to invasion than those which had vanished before the tempest of the Guadalete. Was it then chimerical for Musa to hope that, with the combined aid of his own genius and the invincible prowess of his veterans, he might add to the domains of the successor of Mohammed the fairest regions of Europe, in the very seat of the Papacy proclaim from the towers of the Eternal City the doctrines of Islam, and, passing eastward, exchange greetings upon the shores of the Bosphorus with his friends and brethren of Syria? This plan of conquest, doubtless suggested by the invasion of the Carthaginian general, but which promised far more important results, owing to the thoroughly disorganized condition of the provinces once constituting the Roman Empire, an enterprise worthy of the ambition and daring of any military leader, was unhesitatingly condemned by the suspicious Khalif, who saw in its successful execution the portentous menace of a rival monarchy. With inexpressible grief and vexation, yet, to some degree, sustained by the hope that a personal interview might accomplish what written explanation had failed to do, Musa prepared to obey the mandate of his sovereign. In furtherance of this resolution, and to gratify a not unreasonable vanity, he determined to parade before the court and populace of Damascus the trophies of Africa and Spain with a pomp proportionate to the splendor of those conquests.
A general rendezvous was appointed at Seville, now designated as the capital of the kingdom, by reason of its proximity to the sea, and its ease of access to the Moslem settlements of Africa. There were assembled the spoil of palaces, the sacrilegious plunder of churches, the booty of many a battle-field, the throngs of noble captives, the insignia of fallen royalty. Ponderous vehicles were constructed for the conveyance of this treasure, whose value for once exceeded the wildest estimates of Oriental exaggeration. When all was ready, Musa, having appointed his son Abd-al-Aziz viceroy during his absence, crossed over to Ceuta. In obedience to orders issued previously to his arrival, every town of Al-Maghreb in the line of march contributed its contingent to increase the magnificence of the triumph. The fierce chieftains of Mauritania trooped after the victor in the character of warriors, proselytes, or slaves. Heaped in picturesque confusion upon endless strings of camels were the primitive spoils of the Desert—rude weapons, defensive armor, wearing apparel, and coarse trappings upon which had been lavished all the resources of barbaric decoration. Hundreds of the wild and beautiful Kabyle maidens, selected for their superior charms and fettered with chains of gold, toiled wearily along the dusty roads which ultimately led to the distant harems of Syria. Four hundred Gothic nobles, in whose veins coursed the royal blood, clothed in gorgeous robes secured by golden girdles, and crowned with diadems, represented the departed fortunes of the dynasties of Iberia. Thirty wagons hardly sufficed to convey the enormous quantities of gold, silver, and precious stones—objects of public ostentation, private luxury, and personal adornment—the gem-encrusted receptacles of the Host, the costly vessels of the mass, besides other and innumerable mementos of the most finished efforts of Visigothic opulence and Byzantine art. Among the guards of Musa, splendidly equipped, rode descendants of the proudest families of the Koreish, and the most distinguished officers of the Moslem army. In the rear of this brilliant cavalcade followed, to the number of more than a hundred thousand, the less important captives taken in the campaigns of Africa and Spain.
Arrived at Kairoan, Musa divided the government of Africa among his three sons Abdallah, Abd-al-Melik, and Abd-al-Ala, in the hope of perpetuating in his family the authority which he realized that he now held by an uncertain tenure, and then resumed his journey.
Tidings of his approach having preceded him, the wanderers of the Desert and the inhabitants of the cities of the coast alike poured forth in countless multitudes to do him honor. It was a strange and impressive spectacle, one which had not been seen since the laurel-crowned victor, preceded by his trophies and his captives, had traversed the streets of Rome amid the acclamations of the populace, to deposit his offerings upon the shrine of the Capitoline Jupiter. With the progress of the triumphal procession the number of curious spectators increased, reaching its culmination at Cairo, where the way was blocked by the teeming myriads from the banks of the Nile. During the course of the journey, Musa, elated beyond measure by the adulation heaped upon him, was prompted to the commission of an act of tyranny which seriously prejudiced his fortunes. Desirous of neglecting no opportunity of magnifying his importance, and utterly unscrupulous in appropriating the credit due to others, he demanded of Mugayth-al-Rumi the captive governor of Cordova, whom the latter held as his slave, and designed as a present to the Khalif. Upon the refusal of that officer to comply with his demand, Musa ordered the immediate execution of the Gothic prince, and by this deed of violence and injustice increased the enmity of Mugayth-al-Rumi, whose sympathies had already been enlisted on the side of Tarik, his friend and former comrade in arms.
Hardly had Musa passed the borders of Syria, when there was placed in his hands a secret message from Suleyman, heir presumptive of the Khalifate, announcing the fatal illness of his brother Al-Walid, and desiring him not to advance further until he received authentic information of the death of his sovereign. Suleyman was induced to make this request, not only on account of the prestige which his accession to the throne would derive by the public exhibition of the vast plunder of the nations of the West, but also because the personal gifts presented to the family of the Khalif, presumably of immense value, would be lost to his successor. Musa, however, whose native tact and shrewdness seem to have been diminished by age and disappointment, paid no attention to the representations of Suleyman; and without an hour’s delay marched on to Damascus. He entered the city on Friday, and proceeding to the great mosque, where Al-Walid was at prayer, entered at the head of the captive nobles and chieftains, all of whom were clothed in the costumes of their respective countries and adorned with the insignia of their rank. After the service the Khalif embraced Musa, clothed him with his own robe, and presented him with fifty thousand dinars, in addition to pensioning his sons and the most worthy of his subordinates. The inferior captives and the royal fifth were then placed in the custody of the officers of the Treasury. The wonderful table was, as Tarik had conjectured it would be, claimed by Musa, who, on being interrogated concerning the golden foot, declared it was in that condition when he found it. Thereupon, Tarik, who was present, advanced, claimed the honor of the capture, and after relating the stratagem he had practised, produced the missing portion in corroboration of his testimony, to the speechless rage and confusion of his rival. Al-Walid, who estimated this work of art solely by the value of its materials, caused the jewels to be removed, and then sent the frame of the table as an offering to the temple of Mecca.
Forty days after Musa’s arrival at Damascus Al-Walid died, and Suleyman ascended the throne. The latter, notorious for the ferocity of his disposition and the vulgarity and gluttony of his tastes, lost no time in imposing upon Musa the full weight of his displeasure. The first judicial act of his administration was the arraignment of the veteran general, now more than eighty years of age. The evidence of corruption, extortion, and tyranny, to which Musa could make but a feeble defence, having been presented, he was found guilty, sentenced to be stripped of his property, and required to pay a fine of two hundred thousand pieces of gold. In addition to this severe penalty, he was also forced to remain chained to a post under a blazing sun, as a punishment for having publicly reproached the Khalif for his ingratitude. Through the intercession of friends he was released after many hours of torture, and permitted to retire from the court, accompanied by a single faithful slave. His remaining years were passed in poverty; dependent upon alms, he begged his bread from the Bedouin tribes, putting aside every dirhem he could obtain to be applied to the payment of his fine, until he died in abject wretchedness at Wada-al-Kora, a remote settlement of Arabia. Such was the miserable end of one of the greatest military leaders Islam ever produced. His courage was dauntless, his sagacity almost amounted to inspiration, his resources were inexhaustible. His zeal, which bordered upon fanaticism, assured him of the favor of Allah, and infused into his troops the most unbounded confidence in his genius. The bursts of his oratory rivalled in eloquence and enthusiasm the rhetorical efforts of the greatest preachers of the age. He observed the ceremonial of his faith with scrupulous diligence. His prudence and the accuracy of his perceptions were proverbial. In all his experience, where he held command in person, no enemy ever prevailed over him. His suspicious nature and intuitive knowledge of mankind made him more than a match for statesmen whose lives had been passed in the atmosphere of courts. Increasing his wealth by the most questionable methods, he excluded his companions from all participation in his prosperity, and under his incessant peculation the royal revenues were sensibly diminished, an offence which more than all others insured his ruin. Thus, in spite of his extraordinary talents, his avarice—whose gratification no bond of friendship, no obligation of loyalty, no precept of religion, and no fear of punishment could restrain—proved his destruction, and the famous commander who had acquired kingdoms, and accumulated wealth which excited the envy of princes, died poor and despised; an outcast in the centre of a barren and lonely region far from the scenes of his glory, and an object of curiosity and compassion to the barbarian shepherds and brigands of the Desert. History is silent as to the fate of Tarik after the settlement of his controversy with Musa. Had he been prominent thereafter in either good or evil fortune, it is certain that the Arabian chroniclers would have mentioned the fact. It is probable that he was permitted to pass the remainder of his life in obscurity and comfort, if not in luxury; and it is beyond question that he was not intrusted with any important employment; for the jealous court of Damascus feared the ambition and the ability of the distinguished general who had achieved the most splendid conquest of his time. And thus disappeared from the stage of the world the second of those noted characters to whom was due the acquisition of the beautiful land of Iberia by the crown of the Khalifate. Of Count Julian, the third and last of them, whom the undiscerning prejudice of monkish writers and the animosity of churchman and Spaniard, intensified by baffled ambition and injured pride, have for thirty-six generations branded with the name of traitor, we have accounts but little less unsatisfactory. His nationality, his antecedents, his relations to the Goths, the origin of his appointment as governor of Ceuta, the scope of his authority, his obligations to the court of Toledo, are, for the most part, matters of conjecture. Even the story of the outrage to his family, the immediate cause of his defection, though supported by the testimony of almost every Arab chronicler, has been disputed. There are excellent reasons for presuming that he occupied the position of a mere tributary of the King of the Visigoths, and had voluntarily surrendered his daughter as a pledge of his fidelity. Under these circumstances his allegiance could not have been deeply grounded; and his conduct appears under a less odious aspect than the treason of an hereditary vassal would have done, especially when it is remembered that he was not the aggressor. The general and unqualified abhorrence with which his name is associated can be traced to ecclesiastical writers, who have neglected no opportunity to blacken the character of every political adversary, heretic, and apostate in the eyes of posterity.
After the Conquest, Count Julian retired to Ceuta, which city, with a portion of the contiguous territory, was erected into a principality and bestowed upon him as a reward for his services. Notwithstanding his intimate Mohammedan associations, he and his immediate descendants remained steadfast in the Christian faith. The preponderating influence of Islam was, however, shown in the second generation of his descendants; and his great-grandson Abu-Suleyman-Ayub, who lived in the tenth century, and had studied under the greatest doctors of the time, became famous as one of the most acute and learned expounders of Moslem jurisprudence. The posterity of Tarik was known and esteemed for several centuries in Spain, until his identity and remembrance were finally lost in the civil wars and proscriptions which accompanied the establishment of the dynasty of the Almohades.
The engagements entered into with their allies were performed by the Moslems with scrupulous fidelity. Oppas was rewarded with the government of Toledo. The royal demesnes, amounting to three thousand of the richest estates of the kingdom, were restored to the House of Witiza. Many benefits at once resulted to the masses from the Arab conquest. The condition of the serfs was greatly improved. Tribute was regulated by law, and ceased to be dependent upon the capricious demands of avarice. The burdens of taxation were, however, still excessive; the cultivator paid four-fifths of the products of the land to the owner; from those who tilled the public domain—which comprised a fifth part of the conquered territory—one-third of the results of all manual industry was exacted. The tax of the landed proprietor was approximately twenty per cent. of his income, that of the tributary Christian varied from twelve to forty-eight dirhems—sixteen to sixty-four dollars—a year. A treaty, whose provisions determined the obligations of lord and serf, of subject and sovereign, and signed by Tarik and the representatives of the Gothic nobility before the arrival of Musa, was subsequently ratified by the government of Damascus. Upon this treaty were based all the laws which governed the tributaries in the Peninsula during the long period of Moslem dominion.
Less than fourteen months sufficed for the complete and irrevocable overthrow of the Visigothic empire. Within two years, the authority of the Moslem was firmly established from the Mediterranean to the Pyrenees. History presents no similar instance of the celerity, the completeness, the permanence of conquest. Political discord, social disintegration, the uncertainty of government, the insubordination of the noble, the rapacity of the priest, the despair of the slave, were among the most important aids to Mohammedan success. The aspirations of all not included in the privileged orders were repressed by the inexorable tyranny of caste. The middle class, from whose exertion and industry is necessarily derived the prosperity of a nation, had long been absorbed by the vast body of serfs whose labors contributed to the wealth, and whose numbers swelled the retinues, of the palatine and the bishop. The same conditions prevailed which had three centuries before heralded the fall of the Roman Empire. Force dominated everything. The spirit of individual freedom, the most prominent feature of the Teutonic constitution, had become extinct. The royal prerogative was subordinated to the claims of the nobility, the latter—not, however, without protest—had fallen under the dominion of the priesthood. The prospect of affluence, the enjoyment of power, the indulgence of luxury, were most easily obtained through the avenues of ecclesiastical preferment. A long peace, attributable largely to geographical isolation, had removed alike the necessity for martial exercises and the incentives to military distinction. Concentration of power, in spite of apparent anarchy, in the end tending to the exercise of absolute despotism, had become the controlling principle of government. Yet all of these evidences of national decadence are scarcely adequate to explain the sudden collapse of a great monarchy. Disappointed ambition, organized treason, the wholesale defection of the Jews, contributed their weighty influence to hasten and complete the catastrophe. Among the Visigoths, patriotism, a quality necessarily dependent upon individual attachment to one’s country, was unknown. Public spirit had been supplanted by a thirst for authority, in the gratification of which all moral considerations were ignored. The facility with which the Peninsula was won offers a suggestive contrast to the enormous difficulties which attended its reconquest. The fate of the Visigothic domination was determined in a week. After two short years, nothing remained of its greatness but the melancholy souvenirs of an enslaved people. The conquerors, in their turn, underwent the same experience. The irreconcilable elements of which they were composed, from the very beginning disclosed the defects of their polity which portended inevitable destruction. These elements were far more active and dangerous than those that had undermined the strength of the Gothic state. Nevertheless, it required many centuries of conflict to expel from Western Europe the race whose light-armed horsemen had, almost without resistance, swept the country from Bætica to Provence, from the mountains to the sea.
Thus passed into the hands of another branch of the Semitic race a country which, in former ages, had long flourished under the rule of Tyre and Carthage. Its attractions had been for centuries the theme of every poet, its wealth the aim of every conqueror. Despite repeated changes of government, invasions, conspiracies, revolutions, in its inaccessible fastnesses, its autochthons, the Basques, had preserved unimpaired their liberty and their national characteristics, a fate which distinguished them from all the other nations of Europe. On the fields of the Peninsula the most renowned soldiers of Rome had learned the art of war. The highest civilization of the Teutonic race had been attained in its cities. In its tribunals the most complete system of jurisprudence the world had until then known was perfected. The dignity of its ecclesiastical councils had maintained their independence, and enabled the Spanish hierarchy to withstand alike the insidious plots and the aggressive usurpations of the Papacy. But, of the many races of strangers which had established themselves within its borders, none had been of such a pronounced and original type as that which now occupied all but a small corner of its ample domain. The causes which led to, and the results which proceeded from, this national catastrophe present one of the most curious phases of civil organization and mental development. That an exotic people should at one blow overturn a monarchy of three centuries’ duration is certainly extraordinary. But that this same people, who possessed nothing in common with the vanquished, no acquaintance with the arts, no knowledge of civilization, should, in a few years, found an empire whose inhabitants had already become eminent in every accomplishment which renders nations learned, illustrious, and powerful, and be able to take precedence of all their contemporaries, is far more extraordinary. For an extended period, the affairs of the Peninsula had been ripe for a domestic upheaval. Little respect remained among the masses for the traditions of a monarchy once elective, now nominally hereditary, but whose crown was always obtainable by purchase, assassination, or intrigue. The piety of the priesthood had been supplanted by an insatiable thirst for temporal power. In every part of the body politic flourished antagonistic religious doctrines, racial prejudices, factious opinions, and discordant social interests. The military spirit had disappeared. The authority of the civil magistrate was despised. The enforcement of the laws was regulated according to the rank and influence of the offender rather than by the measure of his guilt. Rival candidates for the throne contended for the glittering prize with all the infamous arts of the conspirator and the demagogue. Organized bands of robbers preyed upon the defenceless; and their chieftains, disdaining disguise, stalked insolently through the streets of the great cities. Boundless luxury and misgovernment had brought in their train a degree of corruption which equalled that caused by the worst excesses of the Cæsars. The labors of the husbandman for two successive seasons had been fruitless, and hunger and disease in their most fearful form contributed in no small degree to the accumulated misery of the nation. In every community the members of a united and isolated sect under the ban of sanguinary laws, yet still powerful in intellect, in wealth, and in political craft, labored as one man for the humiliation of their enemies and their own emancipation. At first the invasion was considered as a mere inroad, and no one supposed that the occupation of the country would be permanent. With the settlement of colonies, the opening of seaports to the commerce of the East, the partition of lands, and the erection of mosques, however, the Visigoths recognized the full extent of the calamity which had befallen them. But the moderation of their new rulers tempered the bitterness of defeat. The payment of tribute, proportioned to the degree of resistance or obedience to the laws, insured protection to the humblest peasant. The orthodox zealot was allowed to perform the ceremonies of his ritual without interference; the heretic could offer his petitions without apprehension from the furious efforts of sectarian hatred. Ecclesiastical dignitaries exercised in peace the functions of their calling, and the monkish chronicler penned fierce anathemas against his indulgent masters within hearing of the call to prayer from a hundred minarets. The accounts of Catholic writers, in which the most flagrant outrages are attributed to the Saracens, are manifestly exaggerations or falsehoods. Still, there can be no doubt that the inevitable accidents of warfare were productive of much suffering. An inconsiderable number of monks, whose clamors and insulting demeanor made them conspicuously offensive, were martyred. A few hundred nuns exchanged the orthodox companionship of canons and bishops for the delights of the seraglio. Fields of grain were given to the torch. Magnificent villas were levelled with the ground. Altars were despoiled of their treasures and sacred relics trodden under foot. But no pledge of security was violated; and absolute immunity in person, property, and religion was afforded by timely submission—a privilege appreciated by the majority of the people, and contemned only by intemperate fanatics who cursed the generous enemy whose prosperity they shared and whose indulgence they abused.