The fall of Toledo, however it might have been foreseen by the Mahometans, filled them with equal dismay and indignation. As Mahomet was too formidable to be openly assailed, they turned their vociferations of anger against his hagib, whom they accused of betraying the faith of Islam. Alarmed at the universal outcry, Mahomet was not sorry that he could devolve the heavy load of responsibility on the shoulders of his minister. The latter fled; but though he procured a temporary asylum from several princes, he was at length seized by the emissaries of his offended master; was brought, first to Cordova, next to Seville; confined within the walls of a dungeon; and soon beheaded by the royal hand of Mahomet. Thus was a servant of the King sacrificed for no other reason than that he had served that King too well.

The conquest of Toledo was far from satisfying the ambition of Alfonso: he rapidly seized on the fortresses of Madrid, Maqueda, Guadalaxara, and established his dominion on both banks of the Tagus. Mahomet now began seriously to repent his treaty with the Christian, and to tremble even for his own possessions. He vainly endeavored to divert his ally from the projects of aggrandizement which that ally had evidently formed. The kings of Badajoz and Saragossa became tributaries to the latter; nay, if any reliance is to be placed on either Christian or Arabic historians,[[29]] the King of Seville himself was subjected to the same humiliation. However this may have been, Mahomet saw that unless he leagued himself with those whose subjugation had hitherto been his constant object—the princes of his faith—his and their destruction was inevitable. The magnitude of the danger compelled him to solicit their alliance.

[!-- Note Anchor 29 --][Footnote 29: Condé gives the translation of two letters—one from Alfonso to Mahomet, distinguished for a tone of superiority and even of arrogance, which could arise only from the confidence felt by the writer in his own strength; the other from Mahomet to Alfonso, containing a defiance. The latter begins:

"To the proud enemy of Allah, Alfonso ben Sancho, who calls himself lord of both nations and both laws. May God confound his arrogance, and prosper those who walk in the right way!"

One passage of the same letter says: "Fatigued with war, we were willing to offer thee an annual tribute; but this does not satisfy thee: thou wishest us to deliver into thine hands our towns and fortresses; but are we thy subjects, that thou makest such demands, or hast thou ever subdued us? Thine injustice has roused us from our lethargy," etc.]

As the King of Saragossa was too much in fear of the Christians to enter into any league against them, and as the one of Valencia (Yahia) reigned only at the pleasure of Alfonso, the sovereigns of Badajoz, Almeria, and Granada were the only powers on whose coöperation he could calculate (he had annihilated the authority of several petty kings). He invited those princes to send their representatives to Seville, to consult as to the measures necessary to protect their threatened independence. The invitation was readily accepted. On the day appointed, Mahomet, with his son Al Raxid and a considerable number of his wazirs and cadis, was present at the deliberations. The danger was so imminent—the force of the Christians was so augmented, and that of the Moslems so weakened—that such resistance as Mahometan Spain alone could offer seemed hopeless. With this conviction in their hearts, two of the most influential cadis proposed an appeal to the celebrated African conqueror, Yussef ben Taxfin, whose arm alone seemed able to preserve the faith of Islam in the Peninsula.

The proposal was received with general applause by all present: they did not make the very obvious reflection that when a nation admits into its bosom an ally more powerful than itself, it admits at the same time a conqueror. The wali of Malaga alone, Abdallah ben Zagut, had courage to oppose the dangerous embassy under consideration: "You mean to call in the aid of the Almoravides! Are you ignorant that these fierce inhabitants of the desert resemble their own native tigers? Suffer them not, I beseech you, to enter the fertile plains of Andulasia and Granada! Doubtless they would break the iron sceptre which Alfonso intends for us; but you would still be doomed to wear the chains of slavery. Do you not know that Yussef has taken all the cities of Almagreb; that he has subdued the powerful tribes of the east and west; that he has everywhere substituted despotism for liberty and independence?" The aged Zagut spoke in vain: he was even accused of being a secret partisan of the Christian; and the embassy was decreed.

But Zagut was not the only one who foresaw the catastrophe to which that embassy must inevitably lead: Al Raxid shared the same prophetic feeling. In reply to his father, who, after the separation of the assembly, expatiated on the absolute necessity of soliciting the alliance of Aben Taxfin as the only measure capable of saving the rest of Mahometan Spain from the yoke of Alfonso, he said: "This Aben Taxfin, who has subdued all that he pleased, will serve us as he has already served the people of Almagreb and Mauritania—he will expel us from our country!"

"Anything," rejoined the father, "rather than Andalusia should become the prey of the Christians! Dost thou wish the Mussulmans to curse me? I would rather become an humble shepherd, a driver of Yussef's camels, than reign dependent on these Christian dogs! But my trust is in Allah."

"May Allah protect both thee and thy people!" replied Al Raxid, mournfully, who saw that the die of fate was cast.