The dupe of the conspirators, Ommeya, who with mingled rage and terror had seen his delusive hopes of empire vanish in an instant, was forcibly expelled from the city. His part having been played, and his insignificance rendering him unworthy of further attention, he remained at liberty, until, having tried to secretly enter the capital, he was arrested, and his disappearance from that moment was attributed, not without probability, to the sanguinary precautions of the Council of State.
Hischem was condemned to imprisonment for life in an isolated fortress of the Sierra Ronda. The negligence or the corruption of the guard, however, enabled him to escape after a few months’ detention, and he passed the five remaining years of his existence in the city of Lerida, a dependency of the princely family of Ibn-Hud, Emirs of Saragossa.
With Hischem III. finally disappeared the dynasty which had ruled, for the most part with phenomenal success and splendor, the powerful empire of Moorish Spain. In the space of two hundred and sixty-seven years, fourteen khalifs of the House of Ommeyah had guided the destinies of that empire. Of these princes, six pre-eminent in executive ability, in intellectual culture, in military genius, in political sagacity, had ascended, one after another, to the foremost rank among the great sovereigns of the earth. They had founded magnificent cities. They had erected palaces, whose crumbling ruins suggest the creations of the genii. They had collected vast libraries. Their commercial establishments were to be found among the most remote nations. The prowess of their captains had been recognized on the banks of the Rhone, on the plains of Lombardy, in the provinces of the Atlas, in the islands of the Mediterranean. Their munificence and culture had made the imperial city of the Guadalquivir a shrine of literary pilgrimage. In that city the aristocracy of intellect was even more esteemed than nobility of descent. Its possessors were the companions, the favorites, the councillors of kings. In singular contrast to the prejudices of subsequent ages, the edifices of religion were made subservient to the interests of science, and the minarets of mosques were furnished with astronomical apparatus. In the ability to erect stupendous monuments of mechanical and agricultural industry, in the perfection of hydraulic engineering, in the skilful employment of the principles of fortification, the subjects of these polished rulers were the superiors of any of the nations of antiquity. In such of the arts as were not proscribed by the doctrines of their religion, they produced models of unapproachable excellence. And, while these great advances in civilization were being made under the auspices of Islam, the European world was plunged in the darkness of barbarism and superstition. Of the great capitals of Europe, to-day the renowned seats of art and learning, London and Paris were the only ones whose population was sufficiently numerous to raise them to the dignity of cities. Within their precincts the most ordinary conveniences of life were practically unknown. The intercourse of the people was dominated by the brutal instincts of savage life; property was at the mercy of the strongest; and society was conjointly ruled by the sword of the baron and the crucifix of the monk. The vicious tendencies of the Moslem system; the participation of barbarians in a government whose mechanism they had neither the capacity to understand nor the judgment to direct; the corruption of public morals, inevitable in a state which has reached the highest degree of civilization attainable under its institutions; the gradual relaxation and final rupture of the ties of allegiance which bind the subject to the sovereign; the decrepitude of a nation which, in obedience to the inexorable necessity resulting from its political and social conditions, had completed its existence and fulfilled its destiny in the history of the world, had undermined the foundations and demolished the imposing fabric of the Ommeyade empire. The time had long since passed when the magic of a name, whose owners had accomplished so much for the cause of human progress, had ennobled the pursuits of learning and assumed the patronage of art,—a name almost synonymous with national prosperity and regal grandeur,—could inspire the respect of foreign nations or arouse the dormant enthusiasm of the multitude. No member of that dynasty, however talented, could now have restored the monarchy of his ancestors, whose reminiscences, for centuries refused the sanction of history among Christian nations and imperfectly preserved even by Arab authors, were destined to be largely transmitted to future ages through the suspicious medium of romantic and exaggerated tradition.
The relation of Moorish affairs in the Peninsula becomes henceforth necessarily desultory and disconnected. The authority, once central at Cordova, was distributed among a hundred states, whose rulers, mutually hostile and aspiring to individual supremacy, constantly enlisted Christian auxiliaries in a struggle which must eventually terminate in the contraction of their dominions, the impairment of their sovereignty, and the destruction of their faith. The blessings of peace, the preservation of order, were forgotten in a fierce contest for power inspired by revenge and ambition. Prejudices of race and religion, engendered by ages of unremitting hostility, were discarded by unnatural coalitions of Moslem usurpers and Castilian adventurers, whose only bond of alliance was a community of spoliation and infamy. The intrigues of one faction planted the banners of the Cross on the shores of the Mediterranean. The blind animosity of another permitted the desecration of the noblest monument of Moslem piety. Professed disciples of the religion of Mohammed saw with complacent indifference the horses of Christian knights tethered to the columns of the mosque of Abd-al-Rahman, while the sanctuary, which still contained the sacred Koran of the Khalif Othman, resounded with the clanking tread of the curious and scoffing infidel.
The disintegrated sections of the empire were now to witness the trial of a form of government hitherto unknown to the Moslem constitution. The very essence of the polity of Islam had always been the concentration of power in a single individual, who exercised conjointly the functions appertaining to the official head of both Church and State. The assumption of authority by an association of nobles, while the result of political necessity, was none the less an act of flagrant usurpation. It was repugnant to the principles, the traditions, the legal and religious maxims upon which the organization of Moslem society was based, and by which it had always been maintained. It had not received the sanction of popular approbation or consent. The dethronement of Hischem was an arbitrary deed of violence unconfirmed by any evidence of voluntary abdication. As there had been no formal renunciation of vested rights, those rights were only suspended, and the subjects of the Khalif were not, in law, absolved from their allegiance.
The constitution of the Council of State, whose jurisdiction extended but a short distance beyond the walls of Cordova, was partly oligarchical and partly democratic. A formal assemblage of citizens conferred upon Ibn-Djahwar, the most prominent member of that body, an office whose powers and privileges appertained to the anomalous dignity of the autocratic supreme magistrate of a republic. The course of Ibn-Djahwar was characterized by the greatest moderation and justice. Unlike the Cæsars of Rome, whose despotic edicts were registered by an obsequious senate, the president of the Moorish Council of State refused, of his own volition, to decide or even to examine any question until it had been publicly presented to his associates, and he required that all official communications should be addressed to them. This habitual deference to the opinions of his colleagues, which, however, invariably coincided with his own, increased the consideration in which he was held by the nobility, the army, the clergy, and the people. The new magistrate, in addition to the eminent qualifications which both suggested and justified his promotion, was aided by many adventitious circumstances which rarely fail to elicit the admiration or the homage of mankind. He belonged to a family of ancient and distinguished lineage. His ancestors had served the khalifs in the departments of finance and war. He was the most opulent citizen of the capital, and had managed, by an exercise of thrift and economy unusual in his station, to make vast accumulations to his wealth without ever incurring the suspicion of corruption or tyranny. The measures he adopted for the public welfare were dictated by the most exemplary prudence and wisdom. Taxes were reduced. Mercantile enterprise was promoted by the assurance of public security, derived from the protection of the highways and the repression of crime. Intimate commercial relations were established between Cordova and the other principalities of Andalusia, resulting in the interchange of commodities and the extension of trade. With a prudent regard for future contingencies, he provisioned the principal cities and forts under his jurisdiction. The magazines of the capital alone contained supplies for the entire population of the kingdom for many months. Important reforms were instituted in the army. The Berbers, ever an element of discord, were disbanded. Such as had been notorious for their atrocities were exiled. Their places were filled by a volunteer soldiery, which, in its general character, corresponded to our militia, and in whose organization the sentiments or the prejudices of no single faction were allowed to predominate. One division of this force, commanded by an officer of experience and ability, was made responsible for the peace of the city. The most distinguished citizens were enrolled in the guard of public safety, and by turns patrolled the streets. Public business was transacted with no more ceremony than was required to make it impressive by commanding respect. The numerous throng of parasites and dependents usually considered an indispensable appendage to the royal dignity no longer encumbered the antechambers of the palace. The formerly lucrative profession of informer, patronized by even the greatest khalifs as a precaution against treason, became deservedly infamous. The judicial tribunals were organized in the interests of equity. Competent advocates, who received compensation from the public treasury, were appointed to prosecute the causes of such as were too poor to employ counsel. Immigration was encouraged, and a considerable portion of the capital which had been demolished during the civil wars was rebuilt by the colonists, who, weary of perpetual strife, sought the protection of a new government which seemed to offer to its subjects the fairest hopes of peace and tranquillity. The administration of the finances was conducted in accordance with the strictest principles of economy, and officials charged with the collection of taxes were compelled to render accounts at stated times, and were held responsible, under heavy penalties, for the performance of their duties. The extraordinary and illegal burdens which had been imposed upon the mosques were abolished, and the clergy once more entered upon the enjoyment of the revenues of which they had been arbitrarily deprived. The disorders of the times had raised up a great number of impostors,—half physicians, half sorcerers,—who, to the great detriment of medical science and of the public health, plied their trade, sustained by the ignorance and credulity of the populace, ever easily deluded by the arts of charlatans. These were prosecuted by the government for magic, and to provide against a recurrence of the evil a college of physicians was organized, who passed upon the knowledge and the qualifications of every future practitioner. Such were the reforms effected by the prudence and the sagacity of Ibn-Djahwar. Although they produced for a time a semblance of prosperity, this was delusive and rather apparent than real. The calamities which had, almost without intermission, afflicted Cordova for a quarter of a century had forever degraded her from the proud rank of imperial cities. Her inhabitants had been massacred. Her wealth had been dispersed. Her trade had been destroyed. The literary prestige which had exalted her name far above even those of the polished capitals of the Moslem empire of the East had been swept away amidst the turmoil of barbarian supremacy. Henceforth the political eminence which she had once enjoyed was to be transferred to the cities of Toledo, Saragossa, Almeria, Badajoz, Seville, and Granada.
The policy of the early khalifs, who thoroughly appreciated the dangerous character of their African allies, had established the Berber hordes on the northern and western frontiers of their dominions, and as far as possible from their capital. The incessant warfare maintained by the Christians, as had been foreseen, so occupied these barbarians that their attention was diverted from the provinces of the South by the circumstances of their location, and the consequent demand for unremitting vigilance required by the proximity of an audacious and persevering enemy. The loyalty of the governors of this territory, whose capital was Saragossa, had never been above suspicion. The propensity of the Africans to rebellion was habitually indulged by their chieftains, who carried into the distant North the licentious independence of the Desert. During the existence of the khalifate, the Emirs of Saragossa conceded to the Ommeyade princes the doubtful allegiance of tributary vassals rather than the implicit obedience of faithful subjects. Their martial instincts, their predatory inclinations, and their constant familiarity with danger made them a race of formidable and experienced warriors. The family of Ibn-Hud, whose most distinguished ancestor was appointed governor of the frontier by the Khalif Abdallah, was the founder of the dynasty which raised Saragossa to great political influence among the independent estates of Moorish Spain. By political alliances with its Christian neighbors, it long preserved the integrity of its domain. It encouraged agriculture, commerce, manufactures. It patronized the arts. The portal of the palace mosque, still intact, conveys an idea of the barbaric extravagance of its architecture. Its princes were far from considering the pursuits of science as incompatible with regal dignity. One composed a work on mathematics. Another delighted to pass the hours of darkness in the study of the heavens. It was a singular destiny which had transformed the seat of these ferocious nomads—as a rule so insensible to extraneous influences—into one of the centres of Moslem civilization.
The fortunate experiment of Cordova in abolishing the empire—a measure which resulted in the restoration of peace—was imitated by Seville, a city which in population, opulence, and commercial resources had always been a powerful rival of the capital, and was now destined to assume a pre-eminent rank among the ephemeral dynasties of the Peninsula.
The expulsion of Kasim by the infuriated mob of Cordova was followed by his exclusion from the territory of Seville. Popular indignation had been aroused by a tyrannical order requiring that a thousand houses should forthwith be vacated by the citizens for the accommodation of his African followers. A garrison of Berbers had already exasperated the inhabitants by its repeated acts of insolence and cruelty. The prospect of an army of privileged banditti being quartered in their homes, an occupancy which was equivalent to absolute confiscation, drove the people of Seville to revolt. Abul-Kasim-Mohammed, the Kadi, and other representatives of the malcontents by promises of military promotion and pecuniary rewards easily induced the Berber governor to renounce the service of a master whom fortune seemed about to abandon. The gates were closed in the very face of the Emir. The walls were occupied by thousands of armed citizens prepared to defend, at all hazards, their newly obtained liberty. Kasim, after stipulating for the delivery of his treasures and the restoration of his sons who happened to be at that time in the city, consented to retire forever from the scenes of his former power. His rear-guard had scarcely been lost sight of from the battlements before the Berber garrison was notified to depart, and, relieved from apprehensions of hostile interference, the Sevillians proceeded without delay to the task of political reorganization.
By the unanimous voice of the multitude, prompted by the nobles, who, nevertheless, regarded his wealth with envy and his popularity with disdain, the Kadi was offered the supreme magistracy. The character of this personage, whose descendants played a prominent part in the subsequent events of Andalusia, was a singular compound of executive ability, profound dissimulation, and insatiable avarice. Unlike the aristocratic ruler of Cordova, his origin was mean and plebeian. The eminent genius of his father Ismail, who attained to equal distinction in the widely different professions of arms, theology, and law, first attracted public notice to a family inconspicuous as yet except for the honorable principles and the plodding industry of its members. He had transmitted to his son a large share of his talents; but Abul-Kasim was deficient in those virtues which in a responsible station often compensate for the absence of distinguished abilities. His office of kadi, which he had secured by flattery and retained by treason, he valued only as a stepping-stone to absolute power. Aware that the tender of sovereignty was not a recognition of superior merit, but a shrewd artifice of the nobles by which, in case of the restoration of the House of Ibn-Hamud to the throne, their caste might contrive to escape and the wrath of the avenger be concentrated on the head of an individual whose obscure birth, dignified by immense possessions and ever-increasing influence, rendered him peculiarly obnoxious to the aristocratical order, Abul-Kasim declined the invidious distinction. When urged to reconsider his decision, he finally consented to accept, provided councillors of his own choice were associated with him in the administration. This having been readily conceded, he appointed several of the most prominent and haughty members of the Sevillian nobility, whose protection might be secured or their treasonable complicity established in the event of a counter-revolution, together with a number of his own dependents, who had little to recommend them but a talent for intrigue and a blind devotion to the interests of their patron.