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

by S. P. Scott

Well might the hearts of the little band of Christians in the beleaguered city of Tarifa sink within them. To all appearances, they were abandoned by their sovereign. No tidings of approaching relief could reach their ears. The din of incessant battle resounded through the streets. The walls were crumbling under the blows inflicted by formidable engines of war. More than once had scaling-parties obtained a foothold on the ramparts, only to be repulsed by superhuman efforts. Even in capitulation there was little prospect of safety, for such of their comrades as had fallen into the enemy’s hands were tendered the alternative of apostasy or death. For in this Holy War, waged more earnestly for the extension of religious faith than for the acquisition of territory or the spoils of conquest, the humane rules which ordinarily governed the surrender of enemies or the treatment of prisoners were either suspended or abrogated. Their stubborn and prolonged resistance had exasperated the besiegers, and there was slender hope of quarter in the event of submission or capture. The Moslem army was largely composed of barbarians, ignorant of the laws and usages of civilized nations; and, whether taken by storm or surrendered, the city would inevitably be sacked and would probably be destroyed. In the last moment of extremity and despair the Christian banners were discovered from the battlements. In the organization of the approaching army the efforts of the Spaniards had been absolutely exhausted. Castile, in the fourteenth century, could not command the men, the funds, the military resources, which had been under the control of the grim old warrior Ferdinand III. The population was diminished by wars, sedition, famine, disease. Agriculture was impossible where life and property were constantly unsafe. Articles which in the contiguous kingdom of Granada were in the hands of every peasant were unknown to most Castilians. The flocks, once the chief source of Estremadura’s and Andalusia’s wealth, had been swept away by the alternate incursions of friend and foe. The extravagance of mistresses, the peculation of officials, the exactions of the clergy, the rapacity of the nobles, had drained the public treasury. The administration of the finances was mainly in the hands of Jews and churchmen, who thwarted each other whenever possible, and always at the expense of the state; who, not unjustly, regarded each other with suspicion; and who, in turn, were cordially hated by those on whom were imposed the onerous burdens of tribute and taxation. Successive regencies organized for plunder; the flagrant abuse of power, and the prostitution of justice to the gratification of personal revenge; the insolence of royal concubines; the sanguinary tyranny which disgraced the throne; the invasion of private rights and the insecurity of private property; the impunity of crime; the omnipresent evidences of distress and penury; the degradation of labor, and the distinction attending the prosecution of successful rapine, had embittered public sentiment, and alienated the allegiance of a gallant and romantic people who formerly held the royal dignity of Castile as second only to the omnipotent authority of God. It was a momentous crisis in the history of Spain. The existence of an extensive monarchy, the integrity of a religion hoary with the venerable traditions of thirteen hundred years, were at stake. The numerical superiority of the Moslems was overwhelming. In the Christian ranks, on the very eve of battle, dissension still reigned, and princes of the royal blood were suspected of treasonable correspondence with the enemy. Under such circumstances, when every hand was needed, the publicity of such rumors, giving rise to mutual distrust, greatly impaired the efficiency of the army. The importance of the contest was evinced by the rank of those who followed in the train of the sovereigns of Castile and Portugal. The Primate of Spain; the Archbishops of Santiago, of Seville, of Braga; the bishops of Palencia and Mondoñedo; the grand masters of every martial brotherhood in both kingdoms; the representatives of every noble house from the Pyrenees to the Mediterranean, from the frontiers of France to the shores of the Atlantic, rode in the train of the monarch. The duties of these belligerent prelates were not restricted to the celebration of masses, to the invocation of saints, to the shriving of sinners. Nearly all of them had laid aside the sacred habiliments of their profession, and appeared sheathed in mail at the head of companies of well-appointed retainers. No contemptible adversaries were they, these sturdy champions of the Cross, equally at home before the quiet altars of magnificent cathedrals or surrounded by tumult and carnage in the very front of the line of battle. Such had been the custom of members of the Christian hierarchy even before the battle of the Guadalete. The crusading character of the Moorish wars, undertaken for the spread of religion, indorsed by the infallible authority of the Pope, assisted by the generous piety of foreign princes, had imparted a martial cast to every ecclesiastical organization in the Peninsula. There were more military orders in Spain than in any other country in the world. Not only were the Templars and Hospitallers represented there by wealthy priories and commanderies, but no less than four powerful bodies of monastic knights owed their origin to the wars of the Reconquest. The influence of these military monks in politics and war was extensive and formidable. They appointed regencies. They made and unmade sovereigns. Their counsels directed the measures of great principalities and kingdoms. Under the cloak of religious austerity they concealed many odious vices, ambition, venality, licentiousness, cruelty, avarice. In conjunction with the Church, they absolutely controlled the policy of the monarchy of Castile. To no class of its subjects was that monarchy so greatly indebted for its origin, its extension, its glory, the consolidation of its power, the formation of its manners. Ecclesiastical domination, established during a crusade of seven hundred years, made possible the atrocities of the Inquisition. It placed its seal upon the national character, noticeable in the grave and haughty demeanor, the taciturn disposition, the suspicious nature of the modern Spaniard. It was not without far-reaching results that the iron grasp of episcopal despotism was placed upon a people at its formation, and continued through long and eventful centuries of alternate success and disaster. As no caste contributed so much to the greatness of Spain as the clergy, none profited so much by its opportunities. Theirs was the most opulent branch of the Catholic hierarchy in Christendom. Their primate, first in precedence among prelates of corresponding dignity, ranked next to the Pope. No other country could boast such rich benefices, such vast domains, such princely revenues; religious houses like palaces in their variegated marbles and mosaics; cathedrals which even after ages of neglect are still matchless specimens of grandeur and beauty, filled with works of art of unapproachable excellence, furnished with sacred vessels of massy gold and sparkling gems, lighted by windows whose gorgeous tints, mellowed by age, offer to the admiring and awe-stricken worshipper a veritable glimpse of Paradise. Notwithstanding all these evidences of opulence and splendor, with its boundless possibilities for human happiness and human progress, the country did not advance. Its subsequent acquisitions cursed instead of benefiting it. The present degeneracy and weakness of the Spanish monarchy afford a melancholy example of a country founded upon, sustained by, and destroyed through the influence of superstition.

On the morning of the thirtieth day of October, 1340, upon the banks of the Salado, an insignificant stream, but one destined to immortality in the annals of the Spanish Reconquest, the two great armies prepared for battle. The first intelligence of the enemy’s approach was the signal for the abandonment of the siege. The outposts were recalled. The lines of circumvallation which for so long had enclosed the suffering and famished city were deserted. The cannon and catapults whose projectiles had opened many breaches in the walls were broken up or burnt. With the first light of dawn the King of Castile and his entire army received the communion administered by the Archbishop of Toledo, whose sacerdotal robes were thrown over his armor. The decimated garrison of Tarifa, leaving its defences, took up a position in the rear of the Moslems. The left wing of the latter was commanded by Abul-Hassan; in front of him was the great standard of the Faith; in his hands the open Koran. At the right was posted Yusuf with the chivalry of Granada. In the mighty host of the invaders there was little knowledge of tactics and still less of discipline, each tribe fighting independently under the banner of its chieftain, and relying on the impetuosity of the first attack; in case of repulse equally unable to rally or by skilful evolutions to take advantage of the errors or the momentary disorder of an enemy. At this distance of time, it is impossible to even correctly approximate to the numbers of the opposing forces, as each was interested in magnifying the strength of the other, either to increase the credit of victory or to diminish the ignominy of defeat. The numerical preponderance of the Moors was, however, unquestionable. Their superiority in this respect was largely modified by the character of their adversaries. The Christian knight, sheathed with his horse in steel, was more than a match for a score of ill-armed, half-naked barbarians. A few resolute cavaliers, acting in concert, could rally many thousands of fugitives; to an undisciplined mob, once stricken with a panic, numbers were only an impediment.

Thus, upon the opposite banks of the Salado were ranged the hostile armies whose respective success or misfortune was to decide the fate of the Peninsula. After a few skirmishes the Christians succeeded in crossing the stream. A body of nobles, by a flank movement, entered the enemy’s camp and destroyed it. Alfonso XI., advancing with the main body, encountered Abul-Hassan and was at once enveloped by the entire left wing of the Moslem army. The Castilians were almost overpowered; the royal guards were struck down by a hail of missiles; and the King, in despair, was with difficulty restrained from rushing almost alone upon the lances of the enemy. At this moment the flanking party and the garrison of Tarifa fell suddenly upon the rear of the Africans. Taken by surprise, the ranks of the latter were thrown into disorder, and, the confusion spreading on all sides, they broke into flight. In another part of the field the King of Portugal was engaged with the Emir of Granada. The troops of the latter, now forced to sustain the onslaught of the entire Christian army and dispirited by the retreat of their allies, abandoned their position. Their retirement became a rout, and the immense multitude, defenceless, and crowded together in an unwieldy mass, fell an easy prey to their merciless pursuers.

Nothing is so remarkable in this decisive battle as the short time it took to gain it. But a few hours sufficed to destroy that gigantic armament which required the combined efforts of two powerful kingdoms many months to organize and bring into the field. Frightful slaughter ensued. The plain, slippery with blood, was strewed with tens of thousands of corpses. A crimson torrent rushed through the narrow and precipitous channel of the Salado. The dead far exceeded the prisoners in numbers, but the greater part of the defeated army escaped to Granada. Both the Emir and Abul-Hassan regained their capitals by sea. The harem of the Sultan of Fez, and several of his sons, who, in the vain confidence of victory, had accompanied him, fell into the hands of the Christians. The implacable character of the struggle is shown by the treatment of these helpless unfortunates, whom the savage Castilians butchered in their tents. Since the memorable day of Las Navas de Tolosa, no such a display of booty had regaled the eyes of a victorious soldiery. The quantity of gold and silver bullion was so great that the commercial value of those metals was, in consequence, decreased one-sixth throughout the kingdoms of Spain and France. The wealth represented by bracelets and necklaces, by jewelled scimetars and enamelled daggers, by spurs whose material of massy gold was entirely concealed by their sparkling settings, by heaps of gems of unusual size and dazzling brilliancy, by precious ingots, requiring the united efforts of many men to lift them, was beyond all computation. To these attractive objects were added others of less interest, perhaps, but of more utility,—magnificent saddles and housings set with sapphires and topazes; pavilions of silk brocade; garments curiously embroidered with texts from the Koran; robes stiff with cloth of gold and silver; thousands of Arabian horses renowned for swiftness, gentleness, beauty, and endurance. The money subsequently obtained from the ransom of illustrious captives formed no inconsiderable amount of the spoils of this great victory. One hundred of the finest chargers, fully caparisoned, each led by a Moor of rank in splendid apparel, the royal standard of Castile, and the captured arms and armor of the Sultan of Fez were sent to the Pope at Avignon, as evidences of the power of papal intercession and as trophies of Christian triumph.

With the defeat of the Salado disappeared the active interference of the Sultans of Africa in the affairs of the Peninsula. They no longer seemed to possess either the capacity or energy to conduct great military enterprises to a successful issue. Henceforth defensive warfare alone exercised the talents and wasted the resources of the kings of Granada, the sole representations of Saracen power in Europe, in a conflict which, protracted for nearly two centuries longer by the suicidal feuds of Spanish princes, was destined to exhibit features that seem to belong rather to the fabulous realms of romance than to the rugged domain of history; while the royal line of the Alhamares, preserving from destruction the remnants of Moorish civilization transmitted from the Western Khalifate, by the protection of the arts and the encouragement of letters, for a time seemed about to restore the glories of Cordova and to render instinct with life and vigor the fast-vanishing phantom of Moslem greatness.

Abul-Hassan justly imputed the calamity which had overtaken him to the cowardice of his allies, who fled almost before they had crossed swords with their adversaries; and, henceforth, the struggling Moslems of Granada were abandoned to their own resources against the combined and overwhelming energy of the Christian powers.

Two years after the battle of the Salado, Alfonso XI. laid siege to Algeziras. For nineteen months the garrison held out against the entire forces of the Castilian monarchy. An ineffectual attempt was made by the Emir of Granada to relieve the city; but the memory of the recent catastrophe was too vivid, and the troops of that kingdom could not be driven to encounter their terrible enemies in battle. Algeziras surrendered, and its inhabitants and garrison were permitted to retire under a safe-conduct; the former with their personal effects, the latter with their arms and the honors of war.

The capture of Gibraltar was the next enterprise which claimed the attention of the martial King of Castile. In the year 1349, this stronghold, whose position and defensive works had made it proverbially impregnable, was invested. Unable to carry it by storm, an attempt was made to reduce it by famine. The siege had lasted a year, when, the plague having broken out in the Castilian camp, Alfonso became one of the first victims, leaving the crown to his son, Pedro el Cruel, a name of hideous import in the annals of royal infamy. The magnanimous courtesy of the Moslems was never more conspicuously exhibited than on this melancholy occasion. The Emir of Granada, who was encamped in the rear of the Christian army, permitted the funeral cortege to proceed to Seville without molestation, and many cavaliers of his court assumed mourning in honor of the deceased sovereign, the oppressor of their countrymen and the enemy of their faith.

The remaining years of Yusuf were passed in peace. The series of misfortunes, which, in melancholy succession, had afflicted the Moslem arms, were, for the time, suspended. In Castile, the dissensions incident to a minority again distracted that kingdom; again the factious nobles contended for political supremacy by conspiracy and rebellion; again the course of justice was interrupted; again the royal dignity was degraded and fell into general contempt. Thus relieved from the heretofore omnipresent fear of invasion, the kingdom of Granada was enabled to pursue, without interruption, its course in the progressive march of civilization. The treasures formerly employed in the unprofitable operations of war were now expended in the development and application of the arts of peace. Pre-eminently fortunate in the character of its princes, the dynasty of the Alhamares produced no superior to Yusuf in every noble trait and aspiration which can contribute either dignity or honor to the reputation of a king. Passionately devoted to building, the most magnificent apartments of the Alhambra were constructed during his reign and under his personal supervision. At this epoch were realized those conceptions of architectural genius which rendered that splendid edifice without a parallel among the most sumptuous abodes of royalty. In imitation of its beauties, scores of mansions and villas were erected in the city and its environs by the illustrious nobles of Granada. In the plan of these magnificent palaces the prevailing tastes and customs of the Orient were universally observed. The courts were surrounded by columns of white marble and alabaster, whose capitals were carved of massy silver, whose shafts were often covered with gold. The stuccoes were painted scarlet, green, and blue; upon this brilliant background in high relief appeared with bewildering variety a maze of sacred legends, of geometric tracery, of intertwined arabesques, all gilded, and shining with gorgeous splendor. The pavements and dadoes of the courts and halls were alike composed of mosaics disposed in a thousand fantastic patterns; the balusters of the galleries and the beams of the ceilings of larch and cedar were carved and inlaid with ebony, mother-of-pearl, tortoise-shell, and ivory; in the flower-beds the tropical luxuriance and brilliancy of choice and fragrant blossoms reproduced with wonderful fidelity the designs, the texts, and the tracery of the walls. On every side was a profuse abundance of water; a reminiscence of that greatest of blessings to the sojourners in the hot and arid atmosphere of the Desert, the simple and abstemious progenitors of the proud lords of these stately edifices, sybarites in fastidiousness, familiar to satiety with every refinement of vice and luxury. Introduced through great aqueducts, from reservoirs in the Sierra fed by melting snows, it was distributed in every form which human ingenuity could devise for the benefit or gratification of man. It shone in basins of alabaster filled with goldfish. It coursed through the tiny channels of conduits in hall and vestibule. It displayed the hues of the rainbow in the fountains of garden and court-yard. It ran swiftly in the balustrades of marble staircases, at each landing throwing up a sparkling jet to the height of many feet. And lastly in the bath, that indispensable requisite of the abode of every wealthy and conscientious Moslem, it was lavished with a prodigality and convenience unknown even to the luxurious Roman in the most fortunate days of the Empire.

It was not only in the encouragement of architecture that the practical genius of Yusuf found employment. His attainments as a scholar far surpassed his knowledge of, or his capacity for, government. There were few branches of science known in that age with which he was not familiar. In astronomy and chemistry his learning was especially extensive and accurate. It was during his reign that the famous Ibn-Beithar, the first botanist, physician, and natural philosopher of his time, travelled under the patronage of his sovereign through every accessible country of the world with a view to the improvement of medical science and the acquisition of botanical information. The measures taken by Yusuf to improve the condition of his subjects were adapted to every grade of society, to all branches of industry, to the regulation and practice of religious ceremonies, to the encouragement and direction of intellectual progress. His enlightened mind perceived at a glance the steps required to confer a public benefit or to correct a grievous abuse. His edicts prescribed the performance of the often neglected ritual of Islam; they defined and enforced the injunctions of cleanliness, of regularity, of formality in worship—that the believer should always live within hearing of the call to prayer; that with every twelve houses a mosque should be erected; they recalled the meritorious character of duties to the poor and the helpless; the protection of the orphan; the visitation of the sick; the distribution of alms. They regulated the police of cities, fixed the hours for opening and closing the gates, and appointed for each ward a magistrate responsible for the preservation of order. They enjoined the prosecution of military operations with humanity, and severely prohibited injury to non-combatants or molestation of the peaceful ministers of a hostile religion. The barbarous punishments instituted by Koranic law were greatly modified by the generous indulgence of Yusuf, who not infrequently permitted the mitigation of a sentence where the severity of the penalty was disproportionate to the nature of the crime. Public edifices of great size and palatial character, mints and universities, mosques and arsenals, were multiplied throughout his dominions during his reign. By importations from Arabia, by the institution of rewards, by the publication of ordinances, he improved the breed of Andalusian horses, even before that time famous in Europe. In the manly pride of health and vigor, this great monarch, the representative of an advanced civilization, the patron of learning, the father of his people, came to an ignoble and untimely end. An assassin, so obscure that the chronicles neither mention his name nor disclose his motive, stabbed him while performing his devotions in the mosque. His murder was probably the act of a fanatic or the culmination of a plot contrived by some unprincipled aspirant to the throne, whose identity was not discovered and whose treason certainly failed of its object. Mourned by every class of his subjects, Yusuf was buried in the royal vault of the Alhambra, where his marble sarcophagus, inscribed with a lengthy and pompous epitaph, once resplendent with blue and gold, still remains.