History of the Moorish Empire in Europe, Vol. 2 (of 3)

by S. P. Scott

The first efforts of Abul-Kasim were directed to the establishment of a military force. For the first time since the Conquest, Seville was left absolutely destitute of the ordinary means of defence. With the expulsion of the Berbers, the last individual trained in the profession of arms had disappeared. The arsenal was well provided with military supplies, but neither the magistrate nor the people had the least practical knowledge of the equipment or the discipline indispensable for the effective organization of an army. The genius of Abul-Kasim was, however, not daunted by even apparently insuperable obstacles. He established recruiting stations in every settlement which acknowledged the jurisdiction of Seville. The tempting inducements offered—pay greatly exceeding that usually allowed the soldiers of the khalif and the assurance of unrestricted pillage—soon lured to his standard crowds of needy and rapacious adventurers. The exigencies of the occasion forbade a critical scrutiny of the nationality or the antecedents of these volunteers. Arabs, Berbers, Christians, and foreigners were enlisted without hesitation. In accordance with a well-established precedent, the slave-markets were ransacked and the warlike natives of Nubia and the Soudan purchased, and marshalled side by side with political refugees, escaped criminals, and the dregs of the Sevillian populace. The excesses of military license, long practised with impunity, had rendered the profession of a soldier highly unpopular and even disreputable, and few citizens of honorable connections and irreproachable character could now be induced to voluntarily incur the odium attaching to a class universally regarded as the scourge of society. By untiring diligence and lavish expenditure, Abul-Kasim finally succeeded in collecting a force of a few hundred men. No more significant indication of the decadence of the Moslem empire could be adduced than the fact that among a people renowned for martial ardor and long accustomed to warfare an army of sufficient strength to defend the most populous city of the Peninsula could not be raised even by bounties, by the hope of plunder, or by purchase.

The difficulties arising from the anomalous political condition of Seville were well known to the petty princes of the shattered khalifate. The prize which the rich and defenceless city offered to the ambition of an enterprising commander was too tempting to long remain secure. Yahya, the son of Ali, the Edrisite Khalif who had recently refused to trust his person among the perfidious inhabitants of Cordova after they had tendered him the government and who now ruled the principality of Malaga, suddenly appeared with a powerful Berber army before the walls of Seville. Resistance was impossible, and Yahya was informed that the city would acknowledge his pretensions if his soldiers were not permitted to enter the gates. This proposition he was not unwilling to accept, but demanded, as an indispensable preliminary, the delivery of hostages, to be selected from the families of the most prominent citizens and the nobility. When this condition was proposed, negotiations were at once suspended, for no one was prepared to incur the risk. The Berbers had never renounced their savage practices. They were not accustomed to observe the faith of treaties, even where their own interests were concerned. The massacre of captives and hostages was in perfect accordance with their sanguinary instincts, and a sudden caprice, or the fear of escape, might in an instant cause the annihilation of the flower of the Sevillian youth. In this trying emergency neither the patriotism nor the confidence of Abul-Kasim in his good fortune deserted him. He placed his own son in the hands of the Berber prince, and removed the apprehensions of his countrymen by convincing Yahya that this pledge was a sufficient warrant for the fidelity of the people. Relying on the authority vested in a nominal sovereign, the Kadi now seized the opportunity of delivering himself from his councillors, and they were, one after another, under various pretexts, dismissed from office. Animated by the hope of one day being able to assert his independence, he next devoted his energies to the acquisition of new territory and the consolidation of his power. The noble self-sacrifice he had exhibited in exposing his son to danger for the public welfare had raised his character in the estimation of every class of citizens. The nobility regarded him with undisguised gratitude and admiration. His popularity with the masses, now liberated from the insults of the soldiery, was unbounded. The faquis extolled the justice and generosity of a magistrate who had removed the tyrannical exactions imposed on their order. Secure of the devotion of the army, whose interests he was careful never to neglect, the Kadi, having formed an alliance with the governor of Carmona, began to make incursions into the dominions of the princes who surrounded him. He overran the province of Beja. He plundered the settlements on the sea-coast west of Cadiz. The son of the Emir of Badajoz was defeated by his troops and taken prisoner. He even menaced Cordova, and compelled Ibn-Djahwar and his colleagues to enlist Berber mercenaries for its defence. He projected an expedition against the Christians, which failed on account of the treachery of the Emir of Badajoz, who repaid the previous misfortune to his arms with an ambuscade, which inflicted serious injury on the forces of Abul-Kasim and caused his retreat.

Meanwhile, the isolated states and communities of the ancient khalifate were threatened with the recurrence of a deplorable political and social calamity. The depopulated provinces of Southern Spain, the incessant prevalence of hostility, the desire of sharing in the spoils of a country where their race had obtained incalculable wealth and absolute power, the insatiable thirst of military adventure, had produced, since the exaltation of the House of Ali, an enormous African immigration. The Berbers now swarmed in countless numbers over the plains to the south and west of the Sierra Morena, a region once considered the garden of Andalusia, and where their flocks still found a rich and abundant pasturage. Heretofore the allegiance of these unruly adventurers had been divided among a hundred petty chieftains, apparently incapable of harmony and united in nothing save an undying hatred of the indigenous population. Now, however, the case was altered. A national sentiment had arisen, which was soon confirmed by the inspiration of numbers, by the consciousness of strength, by the remembrance of injury, and by the hope of revenge. All eyes were turned towards Yahya, the ruler of Malaga, who, a Berber by descent and traditions, was also the representative of an African dynasty, and, for that reason, admirably qualified to be the leader of a national movement. The universal enthusiasm was artfully encouraged by the secret emissaries of the prince. The chieftains, with singular accord, surrendered their precarious authority. The passions of the barbarians were inflamed with the prospect of booty, and Yahya was publicly recognized as the head of the entire Berber party.

No such unanimity of thought and action had, before this time, ever been evinced by the turbulent and mutually jealous colonists from Africa. The alliances of the various tribes had always been of temporary duration, formed and maintained by necessity in the face of an enemy. At the conclusion of a campaign each clan resumed the unrestrained liberty and patriarchal independence incident to a pastoral life. But the present organization promised to be permanent, and was consequently fraught with danger. It augured ill for the prevalence of civilized institutions in Europe that the country which, even under the most adverse political conditions, had preserved in a large measure its intellectual superiority and its artistic excellence should become the prey of ruthless barbarians, who had already desolated its fairest provinces and levelled its most beautiful architectural monuments with the earth. The moment was a most favorable one for the realization of this ominous scheme of barbarian ambition. The people of the Moslem States of Spain were inflamed with sentiments of mutual suspicion and hatred. The two great cities of Cordova and Seville were experimenting with a novel and untried form of government. The only ally of the latter, the governor of Carmona, had recently been disposed of by the conquest of his territory and its annexation to the principality of Malaga. But one possibility existed of counteracting the impending ruin. Could a coalition of the parties hostile to Berber supremacy be formed, the destruction of all the beneficial results accomplished by the Ommeyade dynasty might be averted. This plan, however, despite its obvious necessity, seemed impracticable. The reciprocal enmity maintained by citizens of the various principalities was far more violent than the apprehension with which they regarded the possible restoration of African tyranny. Some had sustained, others had inflicted, unpardonable injuries upon their neighbors. In many instances the despised Christian had been called in to contribute to the humiliation of an execrated but too powerful adversary. By this means, so repugnant to the principles of a conscientious Moslem, the coveted vengeance had been secured. Fine estates had been laid waste. Families had been extirpated. Entire districts had been swept by conflagration. The sanctity of the harem, so dear to every Oriental, had been profaned by the cruel insults and shameless lubricity of the gigantic and repulsive barbarians of the North, and their blasphemous jests had echoed through the stately colonnades of Moslem temples, the desecration of whose hallowed precincts by infidels was, under the law of Islam, punishable with death.

The penetrating sagacity of Abul-Kasim had early foreseen the impending misfortune as well as the appropriate remedy. The method he pursued in the application of that remedy does great credit to his political ingenuity and administrative genius. It was apparent at a glance that he himself, as the head of a coalition, would not receive the support of even those whose property and liberties were in imminent peril. Prejudice against the obscurity of his birth, jealousy of his talents and his authority, fear of the consequences of his ambition, would prevent that general co-operation of all factions indispensable to success. He therefore resolved to avail himself of a threadbare artifice, which had already more than once been practised with surprising results by unscrupulous aspirants to power. He determined to again resurrect the unfortunate Hischem II., by the assistance of his name rescue the Peninsula from the threatened Berber domination, and, having consolidated its scattered fragments, to claim as his own reward the sovereignty of the restored khalifate. The fate of the royal puppet of Al-Mansur had never been absolutely ascertained. One account—probably the most correct one—declared that he had perished when Cordova was sacked by the Berbers. Another attributed his death to the relentless cruelty of the tyrant Suleyman. The tales of mendacious travellers, who declared that they had seen and conversed with him in Arabia and Palestine, were eagerly received and industriously circulated by the ignorant populace, powerfully influenced by every tale of wonder and mystery. The attachment of all classes to the memory of this degenerate monarch was extravagant and almost inexplicable. He was endowed with none of those splendid qualities which are commonly associated with the office of royalty. Retained for years in rigid seclusion and veiled whenever he appeared in public, his features and his demeanor were alike unfamiliar to his subjects. The selfish and unprincipled ambition of an aspiring minister had, by the application of every device of sensual pleasure, reduced a mind of more than ordinary parts to the verge of imbecility. Of the innumerable and brilliant achievements of his nominal reign not one could be even indirectly attributed to his personal influence or to his counsel. The lustre which illuminated the throne of Hischem II., whose victorious standards moved forward with unbroken success for almost a generation, was only the reflected glory of the hajib, Al-Mansur. But personal disadvantages and misfortune rather enhanced than diminished his popularity, which grew with the progress of time. Amidst the confusion and wide-spread disaster of foreign invasion and intestine conflict, the intellectual defects and abandoned vices of the last of the Ommeyades were forgotten. Only the military triumphs and domestic security of a period made illustrious under his auspices now appealed to the sympathy and the pride of the persecuted nobles, citizens, and peasantry. They remembered that during his reign, twice in every year for a quarter of a century, the Christian frontier had receded for many leagues before the irresistible impetus of the Moslem arms. They recalled with exultation that the trophies of the holiest of Spanish shrines had been suspended in the magnificent mosque of their capital. There existed still in the memory of the aged reminiscences of great military displays on the eve of a Holy War; of convoys guarding the rich spoils wrested from the infidel; of splendid embassies which proffered the friendship or the allegiance of distant kingdoms; of interminable processions of manacled and dejected captives; of the impressive chants which, publicly recited on the occasion of a triumph, attested the gratitude of the fanatical and the devout; of the deafening acclamations of assembled thousands. Repetitions of the romantic fables which purported to relate the wanderings and the distress of Hischem had invested these accounts with a plausibility which their manifold inconsistencies never merited. The impossibility of some, the obvious contradictions of others, the uncertain and suspicious origin of all, were overlooked. It was sufficient for the uncritical and excitable masses that a khalif whose reign had been identified with the most famous epoch of Moslem greatness might possibly be still alive. Under these circumstances, every ridiculous legend concerning his appearance and his occupations, every new tale of his condition and his movements, invented by imaginative foreigners, obtained the ready credence of persons whose education and whose knowledge of the world should have at once detected their absurdity.

In the city of Calatrava there had lived for several years a weaver of mats, who in age, mental characteristics, and personal appearance was said to bear an extraordinary resemblance to the missing Hischem. The birthplace and the antecedents of this individual, whose name was Khalaf—an appellation in itself suggestive from its similarity to the title of sovereignty—were unknown. His reticence on this point confirmed the rash assumption of his imperial descent, and the consideration with which he was regarded by his townsmen having aroused his ambition, he publicly declared his identity with the Ommeyade prince. The people, already half convinced, supported the imposture, which rested upon no tangible evidence whatever, and, in their enthusiasm, they even went so far as to declare their independence of their suzerain, the Emir of Toledo. On the appearance of the latter at the head of an army, however, the Calatravans repented of their indiscretion, promptly expelled the aspiring mat-maker, and, with many protestations of repentance, returned to their allegiance.

Intelligence of these events having been communicated to Abul-Kasim, he caused search to be made for the unsuccessful impostor. In due time his retreat was discovered, and he was conducted to Seville. There he was submitted to the inspection of the concubines and slaves of Hischem; their perplexity, their interest, or their fears prevailed over their penetration; and the illiterate and obscure mechanic was declared by those who were the best qualified to judge to be the undoubted descendant of a line of celebrated kings. This important preliminary having been accomplished, Abul-Kasim announced the alleged discovery of Hischem by letter to all of the princes and dignitaries of Moorish Spain. The result, while creditable to their patriotism and national pride, did little honor to the keenness of their wits or the accuracy of their perceptions. In Cordova alone the elation of the populace overcame the authority but not the discretion or the judgment of the magistrate; and Ibn-Djahwar, while he might condemn the propagation of a contemptible political fraud, was forced to recognize its utility in effecting a union of factions whose combined influence might prevent the destruction of organized government in the Peninsula and the consequent retardation of the social and intellectual progress of Europe. With the wildest demonstrations of joy, the inhabitants of the old Ommeyade capital evinced their loyalty to a dynasty whose princes they had so often adored and so often defied; the powers of the Council of State were popularly supposed to be merged into those of the empire; and Ibn-Djahwar and his aristocratic colleagues announced themselves the servants of the plebeian impostor, who held a mimic court in the palace of his master, the shrewd and intriguing Kadi of Seville. The example of Cordova was speedily followed by the states of Denia and the Balearic Isles, Tortosa, and Valencia.

Yahya, from his stronghold at Carmona, saw with wonder and dismay the establishment and progress of the formidable confederacy which had already thwarted his projects and threatened the speedy overthrow of his power. The intoxication to which he was habitually addicted caused him to neglect the precautions dictated by ordinary prudence. While overcome with wine he was lured into a nocturnal ambuscade and killed, with the larger portion of his command; and Ismail, the son of the Kadi, who had charge of the victorious detachment, returned to receive the congratulations of the people of Seville.

The death of Yahya was a fatal blow to the hopes of the Berber party. None of his family possessed, in an equal degree, talents for organization or the confidence of their followers, advantages which had so effectually promoted the fortunes of the deceased commander. His death was no sooner known than the Berbers disbanded, and with characteristic inconstancy returned to the tranquil pursuits of pastoral life. Even the integrity of his own dominions could no longer be maintained. His brother Edris was raised to the throne of Malaga, but Mohammed, a cousin of the latter, had already received the homage of the garrison of Algeziras; the Africans of the province began to show signs of insubordination, and Edris saw himself confronted at the outset of his reign with difficulties which already seemed to portend a disastrous termination of the projected Berber empire. The impatience of Abul-Kasim soon outstripped his discretion as well as his resources. He endeavored to secure for his puppet the prestige which would attach to his cause by the occupation of Cordova, but the authorities of that city peremptorily refused him admittance, and their temporary support of the false Hischem having, in their judgment, served its purpose, they formally renounced their allegiance to the impostor.

The centre of political disturbance in the Peninsula now shifts to the Mediterranean coast and to the eastern confines of Andalusia. Almeria had, since the dissolution of the khalifate, enjoyed, to a remarkable degree, immunity from the prevalent disorders. That city was the largest and the most opulent commercial emporium of the Spanish Mohammedans. So far from having been injured by the evils afflicting every other principality, she seemed to have profited by the misfortunes of her neighbors. Her governors had been neither conquered nor deposed, and her Emir still held the commission bestowed by a khalif. The insecurity of other ports had practically driven the commerce of the country to the protection of the mighty castle which commanded her harbor. She had experienced few of the political vicissitudes which had distracted the provinces of the North and West. While they had fallen under African or Jewish influence, she had retained all the traditions, the pride, and the exclusiveness of a community where the Arab element predominated. The nominal ruler was Zohair, a prince of mediocre talents and effeminate character; but the control of the government was substantially vested in the vizier, Ibn-Abbas, who united great literary accomplishments and executive ability with boundless avarice and a fertile genius for intrigue. He was one of the most learned of men. The elegance of his epistolary style was famous. He was a distinguished composer and improvisatore. His person was strikingly handsome. His family traced their origin to the Defenders of the Prophet. The vanity and presumption which he constantly displayed were as offensive as his talents and accomplishments were remarkable. His affluence and the state which he maintained in an era of national decadence convey some idea of the prodigal splendor exhibited by the Arab nobility in the prosperous days of the empire. His palace equalled in extent and in the magnificence of its appointments the most sumptuous abodes of royalty. The gardens with which it was surrounded recalled, by their profusion of rare and delicious flowers, the teeming wealth of tropical vegetation. Crowds of slaves ministered to the caprices of a haughty but indulgent master. Among the beauties of his harem were numbered five hundred singers, selected as much for loveliness of feature and symmetry of form as for their proficiency in the art of music. In one of the noblest apartments of this princely mansion was the library. It contained eighty thousand volumes, without including the separate and unbound manuscripts,—if these were considered the figure exceeded a hundred thousand. No room in the palace was furnished with more splendor and extravagance. The shelves were of aromatic woods inlaid with various precious materials, such as ivory, tortoise-shell, and mother-of-pearl. The ornamentation was of gold. Enamels glittered upon the walls. The floor was composed of great slabs of white marble. In this elegant retreat the vizier, with whom the love of literature was a passion, passed no inconsiderable portion of his time. The fortune which enabled him to maintain such regal luxury was estimated at the enormous sum of five hundred thousand ducats, equal to seven million dollars of our money.