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

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Title: History of the Moorish Empire in Europe, Vol. 2 (of 3)
Author: Scott, S. P. (Samuel Parsons)
Language: English
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HISTORY

OF THE

MOORISH EMPIRE

IN EUROPE

S. P. SCOTT
AUTHOR OF “THROUGH SPAIN”

Corduba famosa locuples de nomine dicta,
Inclyta deliciis, rebus quoque splendida cunctis
HROSWITHA, PASSIO S. PELAGII

IN THREE VOLUMES

VOL. II.

[Illustration]

PHILADELPHIA & LONDON
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
1904

Published March, 1904

_Printed by J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia, U. S. A._

CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.

CHAPTER XV

THE MOSLEM DOMINATION IN SICILY

PAGE

Classic Souvenirs of Sicily--Its Great Natural
Advantages--It becomes the Stronghold of the
Papacy--Invasion of the Arabs--They besiege
Syracuse--Strength of that City--Failure of the
Enterprise--Capture of Palermo--Rapid Progress of
the Moslems--Condition of Italy--Arab Alliance with
Naples--Messina taken--Betrayal of Castrogiovanni--Rout of
the Greeks near Syracuse--Feuds of the Conquerors--Their
Successes in Italy--Second Siege of Syracuse--The
City is stormed and destroyed by Ibn-Mohammed--Peril
of Rome--Appearance of the Normans in the South of
Europe--They invade Sicily--Siege of Palermo--Subjection
of the Island--Influence of the Moslems over their
Conquerors--General Condition of Sicily--Its
Civilization--Palermo and its Environs--Science, Art, and
Literature--The Great Work of Edrisi--Arab Occupation of
Sardinia, Crete, Corsica, and Malta 1

CHAPTER XVI

THE PRINCIPALITIES OF MOORISH SPAIN

Immobility of the African Race--Its Hostility to
Civilization--Its Pernicious Influence on the
Politics of the Western Khalifate--Character of
Suleyman--Invasion of Ali--He ascends the Throne--His
Tyranny--He is assassinated--Abd-al-Rahman IV. succeeds
Him--Yahya--Abd-al-Rahman V.--Mohammed--Hischem
III.--Organization of the Council of State--Ibn-Djahwar,
the Minister--His Talents and Power--Abul-Kasim-Mohammed,
Kadi of Seville--Berber Conspiracy--The Impostor Khalaf
is raised to the Throne as Hischem II.--Almeria--The
Vizier Ibn-Abbas--Influence of the Jews at
Granada--The Rabbi Samuel-- Rivalry of Granada and
Almeria--Abu-al-Fotuh--Motadhid ascends the Throne of
Seville--His Cruel and Dissolute Character--His Collection
of Skulls--Badis, King of Granada--Increasing Power of
Castile--Valencia and Malaga--Atrocities of the Christians
at Barbastro 77

CHAPTER XVII

WARS WITH THE CHRISTIANS; THE ALMORAVIDES

Dissensions in Castile--Alfonso the Guest of the Emir of
Toledo--Civilization of that Moorish Capital--Motamid,
Prince of Seville--His Prodigality--Valencia and Murcia
become subject to Mamun--Motamid takes Cordova--Military
Genius of Alfonso VI.--The Famous Game of Chess--Siege of
Toledo--Capitulation of that City--Depredations of Bands
of Outlaws--Danger and Distress of the Moslems--Rise
of the Almoravides--Their Fanaticism and Prowess--They
conquer Northern Africa--The Spanish Emirs appeal to
Yusuf--He crosses the Strait--Rout of the Christians at
Zallaca--Second Expedition of Yusuf--His Popularity--He
claims the Sovereignty of the Peninsula--The Cid: His
Character and His Exploits--He serves the Emir of
Saragossa--He obtains Control of Valencia--Revolt and
Siege of that City--Cruelties of the Cid--Death of
Yusuf--Greatness of the Almoravide Empire--Accession of
Ali--Demoralization of the Conquerors 159

CHAPTER XVIII

THE EMPIRE OF THE ALMOHADES

Rise of Abu-Abdallah, the Mahdi--His Character
and Talents--He rebels against Ali--His Eventful
Career--Abd-al-Mumen succeeds Him--Decline of the
Almoravide Power in Spain--Raid of Alfonso of Aragon--Rout
of Fraga--Death of Alfonso--Indecisive Character of the
Campaigns in the War of the Reconquest--Progress of
Abd-al-Mumen in Africa--Victories of the Almohades--Natural
Hostility of Moor and Berber--Anarchy in the Peninsula--It
is invaded by the Africans--Establishment of the Almohade
Empire in Andalusia--Almeria taken by the Christians--Its
Recapture by the Berbers--Death of Abd-al-Mumen--His
Genius and Greatness--Accession of Yusuf--His Public
Works--He organizes a Great Expedition--He dies and is
succeeded by Yakub--The Holy War proclaimed--Battle of
Alarcos--Effects of African Supremacy--Death of Yakub--The
Giralda--Mohammed--He attempts the Subjugation of the
Christians--Despair of the Latter--Battle of Las Navas de
Tolosa--Utter Rout of the Almohade Army 247

CHAPTER XIX

THE PROGRESS OF THE CHRISTIAN ARMS

General Disorder in the Peninsula--Aggressive Policy
of the Christians--Capture of Ubeda--Al-Mamun--Rise
of Mohammed-Ibn-Hud--Merida taken by the King of
Leon--Prosperity of Barcelona--Jaime I. of Aragon--Siege
of Majorca--Terrible Sack of that City--Extinction
of the Almohades--Siege and Capture of Cordova
by Ferdinand--Valencia surrenders to the King of
Aragon--Character of the Struggle between Christian
and Moslem--Xativa--Its Prosperity--Murcia becomes the
Property of Castile--Xativa acquired by Aragon--Death and
Character of Jaime--Rise of the Kingdom of Granada--Its
Wealth and Literary Culture--Ferdinand captures
Jaen--Mohammed-Ibn-Ahmar, King of Granada, renders Homage
to Ferdinand--Seville invested by the Castilians--Great
Strength of that City--Its Obstinate Defence--It is reduced
by Famine--Character of Ferdinand the Saint 334

CHAPTER XX

PROSECUTION OF THE RECONQUEST

Condition of Moorish Spain after the Death of Ferdinand
III.--Invasion of Ibn-Yusuf--Vast Wealth and Power of the
Spanish Clergy--Public Disorder--Energy of Mohammed I.--His
Achievements--Mohammed II.--Peace with Castile--Character
of Alfonso X.--Siege of Tarifa--Mohammed
III.--Al-Nazer--Ismail--Baza taken--Mohammed IV.--The
Empire of Fez--Defeat of the Africans in the Plain
of Pagana--Yusuf--Rout of the Salado--Alfonso XI.
captures Algeziras--Splendid Public Works of the Kings
of Granada--Mohammed V.--Ismail II.--Abu-Said--He
repairs to the Court of Pedro el Cruel, and is
murdered--Yusuf II.--Mohammed VI.--Yusuf III.--Mohammed
VII.--Mohammed VIII.--Ibn-Ismail--Gibraltar taken by the
Castilians--Character of Muley Hassan--Critical Condition
of the Spanish Arabs--Impending Destruction of the Kingdom
of Granada 418

CHAPTER XXI

THE LAST WAR WITH GRANADA

Description of Granada--Its Wealth, Prosperity, and
Civilization--Its Cities--Beauty and Splendor of the
Capital--The Alhambra--Condition and Power of the
Spanish Monarchy--Character of Ferdinand--Character
of Isabella--Muley Hassan and His Family--Storming
of Zahara--Alhama surprised by the Christians--Siege
of that City and Repulse of the Moors--Sedition at
Granada--Ferdinand routed at Loja--Foray of Muley
Hassan--Expedition to the Ajarquia--Defeat and Massacre
of the Castilians--Boabdil attacks Lucena and is
captured--Destructive Foray of the Christians--Boabdil
is released and returns to Granada--Renewal of Factional
Hostility in the Moorish Capital--Moslem and Christian
Predatory Inroads--Siege and Capture of Ronda--Embassy from
Fez--Al-Zagal becomes King--Defeat of the Court of Cabra at
Moclin--Division of the Kingdom of Granada--Its Disastrous
Effects 510

CHAPTER XXII

TERMINATION OF THE RECONQUEST

Summary of the Causes of the Decay of the Moslem
Empire--Loja taken by Storm--Progress of the Feud
between Al-Zagal and Boabdil--The Christians assist the
Latter--Anarchy in Granada--Siege of Velez--Ineffectual
Attempt of Al-Zagal to relieve it--Surrender of the
City--Situation of Malaga--Its Delightful Surroundings--Its
Vast Commercial and Manufacturing Interests--It is invested
by Ferdinand--Desperate Resistance of the Garrison--Its
Sufferings--Capitulation of the City--Enslavement of the
Population--Duplicity of the Spanish Sovereigns--War with
Al-Zagal--Siege of Baza--Discontent of the Christian
Soldiery--Energy and Firmness of the Queen--Embassy from
the Sultan--Baza surrenders--Al-Zagal relinquishes His
Crown--War with Boabdil--The Last Campaign--Blockade of
Granada--Distress of Its Inhabitants--Submission of the
Capital--Fate of Boabdil--Isabella the Inspiring Genius of
the Conquest 595

HISTORY

OF THE

MOORISH EMPIRE IN EUROPE

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XV

THE MOSLEM DOMINATION IN SICILY

827–1072

Classic Souvenirs of Sicily--Its Great Natural Advantages--It
becomes the Stronghold of the Papacy--Invasion of the
Arabs--They besiege Syracuse--Strength of that City--Failure
of the Enterprise--Capture of Palermo--Rapid Progress of the
Moslems--Condition of Italy--Arab Alliance with Naples--Messina
taken--Betrayal of Castrogiovanni--Rout of the Greeks near
Syracuse--Feuds of the Conquerors--Their Successes in
Italy--Second Siege of Syracuse--The City is stormed and
destroyed by Ibn-Mohammed--Peril of Rome--Appearance of the
Normans in the South of Europe--They invade Sicily--Siege of
Palermo--Subjection of the Island--Influence of the Moslems
over their Conquerors--General Condition of Sicily--Its
Civilization--Palermo and its Environs--Science, Art, and
Literature--The Great Work of Edrisi--Arab Occupation of
Sardinia, Crete, Corsica, and Malta.

The island of Sicily, by reason of its geographical position, its
extraordinary fertility, and its commercial advantages, was one of the
most renowned and coveted domains of the ancient world. Its situation,
near the centre of the Mediterranean, afforded rare facilities for
participation in the trade and enjoyment of the culture of those
polished nations whose shores were washed by that famous sea. Its
soil yielded, with insignificant labor, the choicest products of
both the temperate and the torrid zones. Its coast was provided with
numerous and commodious harbors. That of Messina permitted vessels
of the heaviest tonnage to discharge their cargoes in security at
her quays. Those of Syracuse and Palermo were double, for the use
of men-of-war and merchantmen, as were the port of Tyre and the
Kothon of Carthage. The Phœnicians, at a period far anterior to any
mentioned in history, had established and maintained important trading
stations at points subsequently marked by the erection of vast and
flourishing cities. Doric and Ionic colonists, in their turn, carried
thither the elegant luxury and fastidious tastes which distinguished
the finished civilization of antiquity. This mysterious island,
where were manifested some of the most appalling and inexplicable
phenomena of nature, was the home of frightful monsters, the scene of
dire enchantments, the inspiration of Homeric fable and mythological
legend. Here was the haunt of the dreaded Cyclops. A short distance
from its shores were practised the infernal arts of the beauteous
but vindictive Circe. Here passed the Argonauts on their triumphant
return from Colchis. To the Greek succeeded the Carthaginian, who might
assert, with no little show of justice, a claim to the inheritance of
his Phœnician ancestors. Next came the mighty and resistless supremacy
of Rome. Sicily was one of the first, as it was among the richest, of
the provinces early acquired by her arms. It long shared with Egypt
the honorable distinction of being one of the granaries of Italy. The
great resources of the island in the days of the Republic are indicated
by the value of the spoils appropriated by the avarice of a rapacious
governor. The corrupt accumulations of Verres, during the course of his
magistracy, amounted to forty million sesterces. Besides the money
of which he plundered the unfortunate dependents of the Republic are
enumerated statues, paintings, bronzes, utensils sacred to the service
of the gods, the ornaments of the altars, the costly offerings with
which the affectionate gratitude of the pious and the opulent had
enriched her magnificent temples. In intellectual advancement Sicily
kept well abreast of her enlightened neighbors. The choicest works of
the Attic and of the Roman muse were read with delight by the polished
society of her cities. The masterpieces of Aristophanes and Terence
were enacted with applause in her spacious theatres, resplendent with
many colored marbles and decorations of beaten gold. The intimate
social and commercial relations maintained with the cities of Magna
Græcia aided, in no inconsiderable degree, the development of Sicilian
civilization. The citizens of Messina and Palermo could perhaps claim a
common origin with the refined inhabitants of Crotona and Tarentum.

Thus had Sicily, by her amalgamation of widely different races
and through her political affiliations, inherited all the noblest
traditions of antiquity, all the maxims of Oriental philosophy, of
Grecian culture, of Phœnician enterprise, and of Roman power. With
her history are associated the names of Hasdrubal and Hamilcar, of
Pyrrhus and Marcellus, of Dionysius and Archimedes. But long before
the period of Byzantine degeneracy so fatal to the Empire, her
prosperity had greatly declined. Even in the time of the Cæsars the
evils of a venal and rapacious administration had been felt in the
imposition of onerous taxes, and the consequent and inevitable decay
of agriculture. Insurrections were common, and characterized by all
the atrocities of anarchy. The harvests were wantonly destroyed. The
villas of the Roman nobles, whose extensive domains embraced the
larger portion of the arable land, were given to the flames. Bands of
robbers roamed at will through the deserted settlements. The cities
were not infrequently stormed and plundered. The tillage of the soil
was no longer safe or profitable. Extensive tracts of territory, whose
extraordinary and varied productiveness had formerly astonished the
stranger, were abandoned to pasturage, an unfailing sign of national
decadence. The care of the flocks was committed to slaves, whose savage
aspect and brutal habits proclaimed their barbarian lineage. Clothed
in skins and armed with rude weapons, they were a menace alike to the
industrious citizen and the belated wayfarer. No wages or sustenance
was bestowed upon these outlaws, who were expected and encouraged
to supply by acts of violence the necessaries denied by the neglect
and parsimony of their masters. Others, whose ferocious temper and
habitual insubordination demanded restraint, labored from early dawn
in fetters, and were confined in filthy dungeons during the night.
The most shocking crimes were perpetrated with impunity. The spoils
which had escaped the robber could not be rescued from the vigilant
perquisitions of the farmer of the revenue. The tax upon grain amounted
to twenty-five per cent., and the impositions upon articles of commerce
and the scanty manufactures which had survived the general destruction
of trade and the mechanical arts were apportioned in a corresponding
ratio, and were collected with uncompromising severity. With the
prevalent insecurity of person and property, maritime enterprise was
checked, and the fleets of foreign merchantmen which had once crowded
the seaports of the island disappeared. The weak and corrupt government
of Constantinople, dominated by eunuchs and disgraced by the political
intrigues of ecclesiastics and women, was powerless to correct the
disorders of a distant and almost unknown province. Theological
disputes and the pleasures of the circus engrossed the attention of
the successors of the martial Constantine, whose authority, disputed
at home, was often scarcely acknowledged in their insular possessions.
The exaggerated perils of the strait, aided perhaps by a knowledge
of the impoverished condition of the country, may have deterred the
victorious barbarians from any prolonged occupation of Sicily. While
they overran the country at different times, they left no traces of
their sojourn,--neither colonies, institutions, racial impressions,
nor physical peculiarities. But this comparative exemption from the
common ruin seems to have been productive of no substantial benefit.
The spirit of the people was not adapted either to the requirements
of self-government or to the imperious demands of vassalage. They
were at once turbulent, rebellious, servile. In the character of the
Sicilian of the ninth century, as in that of the Calabrian of modern
times, every evil instinct was predominant. The seditious spirit of
the peasantry, aided by their proverbial inconstancy, was one of the
principal causes which prevented the consolidation of the Mohammedan
power.

From being the seat of Grecian civilization, the granary of Rome,
the theatre of barbarian license, Sicily had become the nursery of
the Papacy. It furnished bold and zealous defenders of the chair of
St. Peter. Its opportune contributions replenished the exhausted
treasury of the Vatican. There the genius of St. Gregory first laid the
foundations of the temporal power of the Holy See. There was situated
the richest portion of the possessions of the Roman hierarchy. There
were matured political measures which were destined to exercise for
generations the talents of the ablest statesmen of Europe. At an early
period the popes acquired an important following among the peasantry
of the island. The ignorance of the populace, and the eagerness with
which it received impressions of the supernatural; the associations
derived from the legends of antiquity, many of which, with political
foresight, had been bodily appropriated by the Fathers of the Church;
the absolution promised, without reserve, for the most heinous
offences, had allured thousands upon thousands of proselytes to the
gorgeous altars of Rome. The institution of the monastic orders and the
vast number of idlers increased tenfold the burdens of an oppressed and
impoverished country. It was said that the Benedictines alone possessed
nearly half of the island. Convents surrounded with beautiful gardens
and supplied with all the requirements of luxury arose on every side.
The mountain-caves swarmed with hermits. The miracles performed by
holy men and women surpassed in wonder and mystery the achievements
of mythological heroes,--the conquerors of Cyclops, the captors of
dragons. Martyrs underwent the most exquisite tortures with unshaken
constancy. In no other province which recognized the predominance of
the Papacy was there greater reverence for ecclesiastical tradition;
and, as a legitimate consequence, in no other was prevalent a more
marked degree of ignorance in the masses, or a more habitual defiance
of the laws of morality and justice by those indebted for their
superiority to the influence of the Church. The number of slaves owned
by the Holy See and employed upon its estates was enormous. The greater
part of its wealth was computed to be derived from their labor and
from the traffic in their children. The arts of the confessor secured
from the wealthy penitent immense estates and valuable legacies, the
reluctant tribute of terror and remorse. These possessions, once in
the iron grasp of the sacerdotal order, a master endowed with legal
immortality, were never relinquished. The oblations of grateful
convalescents enriched the treasuries of chapel and cathedral.
Pilgrims flocked in great numbers to those shrines which enjoyed an
extensive reputation for sanctity, and whose relics were believed to
possess unfailing virtues for the cure of the sick and the relief of
the afflicted. A profitable trade was supported at the expense of
the superstitious credulity of these devout strangers. Well aware
of its importance as an adjunct to their temporal power, and taking
advantage of the relations of its parishioners with the Byzantine
court, the early bishops of Rome extended every aid to the Sicilian
branch of the Catholic hierarchy. It enjoyed peculiar privileges. It
was exempted from vexatious impositions. Its legates were received
with distinguished courtesy by the papal court. Gregory founded from
his private purse seven monasteries in the island. Adrian frequently
referred to it as the citadel of the Italian clergy. No portion of the
patrimony of St. Peter could boast a priesthood more opulent, more
arrogant, more powerful, more corrupt.

At the time of the Moorish invasion Sicily had become thoroughly
Byzantine. The glorious traditions of the Greek occupation were
forgotten. In Messina alone the style of architecture, the physical
characteristics of the people, the comparative purity of language,
revealed significant traces of the influence of the most polished
nation of antiquity. In no other province subject to Rome had the
brutal doctrine of force, the basis of both republican and imperial
power, been so sedulously inculcated and applied. The harvests of
Sicily aided largely to sustain the idle population of the metropolis
of the world. Its commerce and its revenues furnished inexhaustible
resources to the venality and peculations of the proconsul. The Roman
aristocracy had there its most sumptuous villas, its largest and most
productive estates, its most numerous bodies of retainers. It was
not unusual for a patrician in the days of the Empire to own twenty
thousand slaves.

Byzantine degeneracy had not failed to cast its blight over this, one
of the fairest possessions of the emperors of the East. After the reign
of Justinian, no attempt was made by the exhausted state, scarcely able
to defend its capital, to send colonists to the island. The debased
populace, the refuse of a score of nations, ignorant of the very name
of patriotism, destitute of every principle of honor or virtue, sank
each day still lower in the scale of humanity.

The condition of Italy was even worse. The Lombards had conquered
all of that peninsula except the Exarchate of Ravenna. To their
dominion had succeeded the contentions of a multitude of insignificant
principalities, inflamed with mutual and irreconcilable hostility,
united in nothing except jealousy of the papal power. The incredible
perfidy and fraud which afterwards became the peculiar attributes of
the Italian political system--whose maxims, elaborated by Machiavelli,
have excited the wonder and contempt of succeeding ages--had then
their origin. The entire country was the scene of perpetual discord,
treachery, and intrigue. In the latter the Pope, urged by necessity
and inclination alike, bore no insignificant share. The prevalence
of such conditions came within a hair’s-breadth of changing, perhaps
forever, the political complexion of Europe and the sphere of Christian
influence. The feuds of petty rulers were aggravated rather than
reconciled in the presence of the common danger. The general anarchy
was eminently favorable to foreign conquest. The Lombard princes
solicited the aid of the Saracens. The latter profited by every
occasion of dissension and enmity. They enlisted with equal facility
and disloyalty under the banners of every faction. Twice they ravaged
the environs of Rome. At different times they were in the pay of
the Holy See. A series of fortunate accidents alone prevented the
enthronement of an Arab emir in the Vatican and the transformation of
St. Peter’s into a Mohammedan mosque.

The vicinity of Sicily to the main-land of Africa had early suggested
to the Saracens the conquest of that island. In the seventh century
it had been visited by marauding expeditions from Egypt. Syracuse was
stormed in 669, and the treasures of the Roman churches, placed there
for security from barbarian attack, were borne away to Alexandria.
Before crossing the Strait of Gibraltar, and even while the Berber
tribes still threatened the security of his outposts, the enterprising
Musa--as has already been recounted in these pages--had despatched
his son Abdallah upon a predatory expedition among the islands of
the Mediterranean. In Majorca, Minorca, Sardinia, and Sicily a large
quantity of plunder was obtained and carried off by these adventurous
freebooters. Other expeditions from time to time, and with varying
success for the space of more than a century, followed the example
of that organized by Musa. Despite these inroads, amicable relations
subsisted, for the most part, between the Byzantine governors of Sicily
and the Aghlabite princes of Africa. They despatched embassies, made
protestations of mutual attachment, negotiated treaties, exchanged
presents. But under all these plausible appearances of peace and
friendship there lurked, on the one side, the deadly hatred and
ambitious hopes of the fanatic whose creed was sustained by arms, and,
on the other, an indefinable dread of inevitable calamity which could
not long be averted.

A strong resemblance exists between the historical legends from which
are derived our information concerning the Saracen occupations of
Spain and Sicily. In both cases a real or pretended injury to female
innocence is said to have been the indirect cause of the invasion of
the Moslems. In the army of the Byzantine emperor stationed in Sicily
was one Euphemius, an officer of high rank, eminent talents, and
unquestioned courage, who, having become enamored of a nun, invaded
the sanctity of the cloister, carried off the recluse, and, despite
her remonstrances, made her his wife. This act of sacrilege, while
far from being without precedent in the lawless condition of society
under the lax and cruel administration of the Greek emperors, was not
in this instance committed by a personage of sufficient authority to
enable him to escape the consequences of his rashness. The relatives
of the damsel appealed for redress to the Byzantine court, the demand
was heeded, and a mandate was despatched by the Emperor to the governor
of Sicily to deprive the daring ravisher of his nose, the penalty
prescribed by the sanguinary code of Greek jurisprudence for the
offence. Euphemius, having learned of the punishment with which he was
threatened and relying on his popularity, endeavored to frustrate the
execution of the sentence by exciting an insurrection. The enterprise
failed through the cowardice and treachery of some of the leading
conspirators, and the baffled rebel was compelled to seek refuge
among the Saracens of Africa. The reigning sovereign of the Aghlabite
dynasty, whose seat of government was at Kairoan, was Ziadet-Allah, a
prince of warlike tastes, implacable ferocity, and licentious manners.
No sooner had he landed than Euphemius sent messages to the African
Sultan, imploring his assistance, and promising that in case it was
afforded Sicily should be erected into an Aghlabite principality,
evidenced by the payment of tribute and the acknowledgment of
supremacy. The offer was tempting to the cupidity and ambition of
the Moslem ruler, and the powerful following of the fugitive made its
accomplishment apparently a matter of little difficulty. In the mean
time, however, envoys had arrived from the Sicilian government charged
to remonstrate, in the name of the Emperor, against this encouragement
of rebellion and violation of neutrality by a friendly power. Thus
harassed by the arguments of the rival emissaries, and weighing the
political advantages which might result from the observation of the
faith of treaties on the one hand, and from the acquisition of valuable
territory and the extension of the spiritual domain of Islam on the
other, Ziadet-Allah remained for a long time undecided. In the time
of the early khalifs the material benefits accruing from warfare with
the infidel--a duty enjoined upon every Moslem--would hardly have
been subordinated to a mere question of casuistry. But the condition
of the provinces subject to the Aghlabite dynasty, whose throne had
recently been shaken by a religious revolution, rendered the cordial
acquiescence and co-operation of the discordant elements of African
society indispensably requisite in a measure of national moment. The
chieftains and nobles were convoked in solemn assembly. The avarice
of the soldier, the fanaticism of the dervish, the aspirations of the
commander were stimulated by every device of intrigue and by every
resource of oratory. The scruples of the conscientious were overcome
by quotations from the Koran inculcating the obligation of unremitting
hostility to the infidel. A plausible pretext for breaking the treaty
was found in the fact that one of its main provisions had already been
evaded by the Greeks themselves, who had neglected to liberate certain
Moslems who had fallen into their hands. The arguments of those who
favored hostilities finally prevailed. The opposition--which had been
organized from purely interested motives--disappeared; the assembly,
controlled by the skilful arts of the representatives of the government
animated by enthusiastic zeal for conquest, declared for immediate
action, and the sounds of preparation were soon heard in the city of
Susa, whose harbor had been made the rendezvous of the expedition.
The supreme command was intrusted to Asad-Ibn-Forat, Kadi of Tunis, a
personage more renowned as a jurist and a theologian than as a master
of the art of war, and who, like Musa, had already passed the ordinary
limit of manly vigor and military ambition. A great force was mustered
for the enterprise from every part of Northern Africa. The wild
Berbers, whose faith was weak and vacillating except when revived by
the prospect of booty, assembled in vast numbers. A fleet of a hundred
vessels, exclusive of the squadron of the rebels, was equipped, and
sailed from Susa on the thirteenth of June, 827. Three days afterwards
the army disembarked at Mazara, which city was at once surrendered by
the partisans of Euphemius, who outnumbered the garrison. The imperial
army soon appeared, and a bloody engagement took place, in which the
great numerical superiority of the Sicilians availed nothing against
the desperate valor of the invaders, well aware that there was no
refuge for them in case of defeat. The shouts of the Christians mingled
with the chants of the soldiers of Islam as they repeated, according
to custom, the verses of the Koran; the shock of the Arab cavalry was
irresistible, and, their lines once broken, the Sicilians were routed
on every side and dispersed in headlong flight. The Moslem victory
was complete. The booty was enormous, not the least of it being the
slaves who were sent in ship-loads to Africa. Such was the distrust of
their allies, that Euphemius and his followers, although constituting
a body respectable in numbers, were not permitted to take part in the
battle. Neither the remembrance of personal indignity and disappointed
ambition, nor the thirst for vengeance cherished by the exiles, was
sufficient to remove from the mind of the Moslem general the feeling of
suspicion which he entertained for their professions, and the contempt
with which he regarded the proverbial duplicity of the Byzantine
character.

A garrison having been stationed at Mazara, the Moslems marched on
Syracuse. This city, although it had lost much of its former wealth
and splendor, was still one of the most important seaports of the
Mediterranean. Its ancient circumference of one hundred and eighty
stadii--eleven and a half miles--was practically the same as when
described by Strabo. A triple line of defences still encompassed it.
Almost surrounded by the sea, it possessed two harbors--or rather
basins--which afforded not only a safe anchorage for merchant vessels,
but excellent means of protection in time of war. As at Carthage,
these artificial harbors were supplied with well-appointed dock-yards
and arsenals, and constituted the stronghold of the naval power of
Sicily. The reverses of fortune it had experienced had not entirely
deprived Syracuse of its superb monuments of antiquity. Many of the
palaces which antedated the Roman occupation had been preserved. The
fortifications which had repelled so many invaders were standing. At
every turn the eye was delighted with the view of elegant porticoes
and arches, towering columns, vast amphitheatres. In the suburbs
were scattered the villas of the nobility, built upon the sites once
occupied by the winter homes of those Roman patricians whose extortions
had impoverished the island, and whose wealth had enabled them to
command the services of the ministers of dissipation and luxury from
every quarter of the globe. Strong in its natural situation, the
city had been rendered doubly formidable by the skill of the military
engineer. Its walls were lofty and of great thickness. Upon the side of
the sea the aid of a powerful navy was indispensable to an attacking
enemy. Aware of the great strategic value of the place, the imperial
government had exercised unusual care in the preservation and repair
of its defences. The only obstacle to a successful resistance was
the extent of the fortifications, which required a garrison of many
thousand soldiers to man them properly. The habitual carelessness and
imaginary security of her pleasure-loving citizens had left Syracuse
totally unprepared for a siege. At the approach of the Moslems, every
expedient was adopted to remedy this culpable neglect. Supplies
were hastily collected from the villages and fertile lands in the
neighborhood. The precious vessels and furniture of the churches and
religious houses were carried into the citadel. From the trembling
artisans and laborers, who, with their families, had fled in haste to
the city to escape the lances of the Berber cavalry, already scouting
in the neighborhood, a numerous but inefficient militia was organized.
In order to gain time, the progress of the Moslems was stayed by
unprofitable negotiations, and a large sum of money was offered as
a condition of their leaving the city unmolested. Euphemius, true
to the base instincts of his race, and apparently eager to secure
an ignominious distinction among his unprincipled countrymen by the
commission of a double treason, secretly exhorted the garrison to a
vigorous defence by promises of assistance and by the inculcation of
patriotic maxims. The pretexts prompted by Byzantine perfidy could not
long impose upon the wily and penetrating Ibn-Forat. His spies revealed
the plans of the enemy; the Moslem army broke camp; and a few days
afterwards the invaders appeared before the walls.

Notwithstanding their extensive preparations for the campaign, the
Saracens were unprovided with the military appliances necessary to
make the siege successful. Their engineers had not yet attained that
superiority in their profession which subsequently enabled them to
rank with the best soldiers of the age. Their great victories had
been won, for the most part, by the activity of their operations, and
by their intrepid behavior in the face of an enemy rather than by
endurance and discipline. The transports were inadequate to an attack
by water, which required the services of a fleet of well-built and
well-protected galleys. In addition to these disadvantages, the force
of Ibn-Forat had been reduced by the establishment of garrisons, by
the casualties of battle, by disease, by desertion. A large detachment
was constantly detailed to guard the prisoners and the spoil. Entire
companies of Berbers, weary of the monotony and restraints of the
camp, had abandoned the army after the battle, to indulge in their
favorite pastimes of rapine and massacre. Thus hampered, a partial
and ineffectual blockade was all that the Moorish general could hope
to accomplish. He therefore threw up intrenchments and despatched a
messenger to Africa for reinforcements.

It was not long before a more formidable enemy than the Byzantines
attacked the camp of the besiegers. The country had been completely
stripped of provisions by the foraging parties of both armies. Such
supplies as had been overlooked by the Sicilians were wasted or
destroyed by the Moors, who began to experience the effects of their
improvidence in the sufferings of starvation. The soldiers devoured
their horses. But these were not sufficiently numerous to satisfy the
cravings of hunger, and the famishing Moslems were driven to the use of
unwholesome plants and herbs. A mutiny broke out, which was at once
suppressed by the iron will of the undaunted commander, who threatened,
in case the mutineers did not return to their duty, to burn his ships.
At length reinforcements and an abundant supply of provisions appeared
in the camp, and, the spirits of the soldiery having revived, the lines
were drawn still closer around the beleaguered city.

The latter had been strengthened by an army of Venetians under the
Doge, Justinian Participazus, who had been ordered by the Emperor,
Michael the Stammerer, to drive the Moslems from Syracuse. The task,
however, proved too arduous for the dignitary, who seems to have
been endowed with more conceit than military ability. While their
communications by sea were not intercepted, the people of Syracuse were
in no danger of famine, but on the land side the city was completely
invested. The country was gradually occupied by the Saracens; a large
force commanded by the governor of Palermo was decoyed into an ambush
and cut to pieces; the prestige of victory tempted many subjects of
the Emperor to renounce their allegiance and their faith for the code
of Mohammed; and, although no impression had yet been made on the
stupendous fortifications, the advantages of the war seemed to be
entirely on the side of the Moslems. Disheartened by their enforced
inactivity, and harassed by the clamors of the peasantry, who had
witnessed from the ramparts the spoliation and ruin of their homes, the
Sicilian authorities made overtures for peace, which were disdainfully
refused.

But fortune, which had hitherto favored the invader, now deserted
his standard. A pestilence, the result of exposure and unwholesome
food, decimated the besiegers. Among the first to succumb was the
veteran general, whose martial spirit and indomitable energy had been
the soul of the enterprise. With him perished the only hand capable
of restraining and utilizing the unruly elements which composed the
Saracen army. Insubordination and tumult immediately arose. Amidst
the confusion, the hostages and the commanders of fortresses and
towns subdued by the Moslem arms who were detained as prisoners
escaped. Information was at once spread throughout the island of the
loss sustained by the enemy and of the demoralized condition of his
camp. Confidence and order were not restored by the announcement
that Mohammed-Ibn-al-Gewari had, by the suffrages of the soldiery,
been raised to the dignity of lieutenant of the Sultan, when it was
disclosed that his promotion had been brought about by the enemies
of the sovereign; his chief title to their favor being subserviency
to a faction whose overthrow had been mainly effected by the courage
and address of the deceased commander. The favorable auspices under
which the operations of the Moslems had hitherto been conducted no
longer encouraged them with the prospect of success. Disease in its
most appalling form, aggravated by neglect of the simplest sanitary
precautions, stalked through their encampment. In addition to these
misfortunes, the kingdom of Ziadet-Allah was harassed by the incursion
of a band of Tuscan adventurers, who defeated the Sultan’s troops in
a series of encounters and carried their victorious standards almost
to the gates of Kairoan. Under these discouraging circumstances it was
determined to raise the siege. The troops and baggage were embarked;
but just as the fleet was ready to sail, a great squadron, sent by
the Emperor to relieve the city, closed the entrance to the harbor.
The Moorish army was hastily landed, the supplies and camp equipage
were thrown into the sea, and the ships set on fire to avoid their
seizure by the enemy. The sick were abandoned to their fate, and the
disheartened soldiery, almost without provisions or the means of
shelter, took refuge in the mountains, a day’s journey from the scene
of their privations and discomfiture. Thus ended the first siege of
Syracuse, whose immunity from capture was due more to the strength of
its walls and the deficiency of its besiegers in military engines than
to the resolution and intrepidity of its defenders. Half a century was
to elapse before the cry of the muezzin would be heard from the tower
of the cathedral, or the tramp of the Arab squadrons resound through
the streets which had witnessed the exploits of Pyrrhus, Agathocles,
and Marcellus.

In the elevated and salubrious region where stood the city of Mineo,
to which they were led by Euphemius, the Saracens speedily found
relief. The plague disappeared. Foraging parties were sent out, which
returned with an abundance of supplies. The strength and courage of the
despairing Moslems were restored; several fortified places fell into
the hands of their flying squadrons, and, finally, they felt themselves
strong enough to attempt an enterprise of the greatest importance. Near
the interior of the island stood the fortress of Castrogiovanni,--the
Castrum-Ennæ of antiquity. It was built upon a rock rising high above
a table-land, whose surface, broken and rugged from the effects of
volcanic action, resembled in its sharp and undulating ridges the
billows of a stormy sea. Upon the summit of the rock once stood a
temple dedicated to the worship of the goddess Ceres, the favorite
deity of the pagan Sicilians. Every resource of engineering skill had
been brought to bear to insure the impregnability of this formidable
citadel. Numerous springs supplied the inhabitants with fresh water.
With its natural advantages for defence, supplemented thus with all
the artifices of human ingenuity, the siege of Castrogiovanni might
well have deterred the boldest captain. But, undismayed by their
unfortunate experience at Syracuse, the Moslems intrenched themselves
before this stronghold. A sally of the Byzantine garrison was repulsed
with great carnage. Communication with the surrounding country was cut
off. In order publicly to announce the permanence of their occupancy,
substantial barracks were raised for the troops, and money bearing
the name and device of the Aghlabite dynasty was coined from silver
reserved from the share of royal spoil. Once more the Saracens were
called upon to pay the last honors to their general, and the army chose
as its commander, Zobeir-Ibn-Ghauth. The latter proved no match for the
active Theodotus, governor of Castrogiovanni, who craftily intercepted
and cut to pieces a foraging detachment, and soon afterwards defeated
the Moslems in a pitched battle in which they lost a thousand men.
The siege was raised; the invaders retreated in confusion to Mineo;
the inhabitants of the smaller fortresses, which the Moslems had
occupied on their route, rebelled and massacred the garrisons; the
sight of a turbaned horseman was sufficient to infuriate the peasantry
of an entire province; and after two years of frightful privation
and incessant conflict, the Moslems saw themselves restricted to the
isolated fortified towns of Mineo and Mazara, which they themselves had
taken without difficulty, and of whose possession they were scarcely
sure for a single day in the face of a vindictive and determined enemy.

While the affairs of the invaders had grown desperate, and the speedy
abandonment of the island seemed inevitable, fortune, with her
proverbial fickleness, once more smiled upon them. A fleet manned
by Spanish adventurers and commanded by an experienced officer,
Asbagh-Ibn-Wikil, landed supplies and troops which strengthened the
position of the despairing Saracens. The Greek emperor, Michael the
Stammerer, died, and was succeeded by the weak and cruel Theophilus,
who, amidst the pleasures of the Byzantine capital and the indulgence
of his savage and perfidious instincts, had neither time nor treasure
to devote to the recovery of the most important island of his
dominions. The Venetian squadron in the pay of the Emperor, left
without co-operation with the land forces, seeing little prospect of
victory and still less of plunder, sailed ingloriously away, abandoning
the decimated Byzantine army to the tender mercies of the Moorish
pirates, who landing on all sides again swarmed over the island.

The civil commotions which had for a time seriously menaced the power
of Ziadet-Allah having been quelled, he now felt himself at liberty to
afford substantial aid to his subjects in Sicily. An imposing fleet
of three hundred ships, transporting an army of twenty thousand men,
sailed in the year 830 from the harbors of Africa. A force including
such a great variety of nationalities had rarely assembled under the
banner of any leader. Every tribe of Berbers and Arabs, from the
Nile to the Atlantic, was represented in this motley and turbulent
host. Yemenite exiles, refugees from Persia, renegade Greeks, and
Spanish Moors of every faction which, in turn, had desolated the most
enchanting and fertile provinces of the Peninsula, hastened to enlist
in the invading army. The politic Ziadet-Allah offered with success
tempting inducements to the enrolment of the Tunisian rebels who had
recently disputed his authority; convinced that few of those dangerous
subjects who could be prevailed upon to face the pestilential climate
of the Sicilian coast and the weapons of the Byzantine veterans would
ever return to vex the tranquillity of his empire. This expedition
also was placed under the command of Asbagh-Ibn-Wikil, whose former
attempt, already mentioned, had been merely in the nature of a
reconnoissance. The invading army, despite its formidable appearance,
failed to realize the expectations which had been raised by its numbers
and its boasted valor. Without discipline, and wholly bent on plunder,
its force was consumed in mutinous tumults and predatory excursions.
The country, already devastated by the roving squadrons of both
nations, was now compelled to sustain another oppressive visitation
by robbers more pitiless and more insatiable than their predecessors.
Still the enterprise of Asbagh was not entirely fruitless. Theodotus,
the Byzantine general, was defeated and slain under the walls of Mineo,
and the strong town of Ghalulia was taken by storm. But here the
plague broke out in the Moslem camp. Asbagh and his principal officers
perished; the deaths increased so rapidly that a retreat was resolved
upon, and the Saracens, after sustaining considerable loss at the hands
of the enemy, embarked in disorder and returned, a portion to Africa,
but the majority to Spain.

Meanwhile a great blow had been struck by a detachment of Asbagh’s
army acting, as it seems, independently of his orders. A division
of Africans appeared suddenly before Palermo. The siege, which
lasted a year, was pushed with an energy and a perseverance hitherto
unprecedented in the military operations of the impetuous but easily
disheartened Moslems. The defeat of the Greeks before Mineo deprived
the garrison of all hope of relief from that quarter. The Emperor,
with characteristic negligence, afforded but slight and ineffectual
aid. Abandoned to their fate, the soldiery, reinforced by the
public-spirited citizens, conducted an heroic but unavailing defence.
In addition to the inevitable casualties of war, their ranks were
reduced by hunger and the plague. From seventy thousand their numbers
fell to three thousand within twelve months,--an almost incredible
mortality. It was not in the power of human endurance to longer support
such sufferings and privations. The governor negotiated an honorable
capitulation, and the remnant of the garrison was permitted to depart
without hinderance, retaining their arms and effects. The slaves of
the Byzantine patricians experienced a change of masters, and the most
famous insular emporium of the Mediterranean, whose traditions dated
to the highest antiquity, whose history was inseparably interwoven
with the stirring events of the fierce struggle of Rome and Carthage
for the supremacy of the world, whose magnificence and sensuality
were proverbial among the polished voluptuaries of Italy and the
Orient, passed into the hands of the Saracen, to be raised under his
auspices to a still higher degree of commercial greatness and material
prosperity.

With the excellent base of operations afforded by the capture of
Palermo, the affairs of the Moslems assumed a more promising aspect. No
longer were they confined to the insufficient and precarious shelter of
isolated castles and insignificant hamlets. The naval advantages of the
city, whose harbor had been improved and enlarged by the labor of many
successive nations, were incalculable. Easy and rapid communication
was now possible with the ports of Africa. Supplies and reinforcements
could be introduced into any part of the island in defiance of the
utmost exertions of the naval power of Constantinople. The fertile
territory included in this new conquest was capable, even under an
imperfect and negligent system of cultivation, of furnishing support to
a numerous army. Nor was the prestige attaching to the name of Palermo
the least of the manifold benefits resulting from its possession.
No city was better known throughout the countries bordering on the
Mediterranean. It was founded by the Phœnicians. It had been one of
the most frequented marts of antiquity. Tyre, Carthage, Athens, Rome,
Constantinople, had in turn been enriched by its commerce, and had
contaminated it with their vices. In natural advantages, in facility
of intercourse with distant countries, in the possession of a trade
established long before any mentioned in the earliest historical
records, in the boundless agricultural possibilities of its adjacent
territory, in the convenience and excellence of its port as a naval
station, Palermo could vie with even the greatest commercial centres of
the ancient or the medieval world. For the power which could take and
hold such a city, the subjugation of Sicily was but a question of time.

The serious results of its occupation soon became apparent even to the
inefficient and corrupt government of the Bosphorus. The depopulation
of the city, where streets of palaces and rows of elegant suburban
villas awaited the claim of the military adventurer, allured from every
settlement of Northern Africa swarms of ferocious and intrepid soldiers
of fortune. From a Christian community, Palermo was, as if by magic,
metamorphosed into a colony of Islam. The cathedral became a Djalma;
the churches were transformed into mosques. In accordance with Moorish
custom, separate quarters were assigned to the votaries of different
religions, and set apart for the maintenance of various branches of
traffic. The entire city assumed an Oriental aspect. Flowing robes and
lofty turbans took the place of the ungraceful Byzantine and Italian
costumes. The veiled ladies of the harems, attended by gorgeously
attired eunuchs, glided silently through the streets or peered
coquettishly through projecting lattices at the passing stranger.
The beasts of burden peculiar to the East, trooping along like the
march of a caravan, became too common to excite the attention of the
curious multitude. Everywhere appeared canals, aqueducts, fountains.
The vegetation recalled to the traveller the date plantations and
oleander groves of the Nile and the Euphrates. The villas of the
military chieftain and the opulent merchant were counterparts of
the exquisite palaces of Seville and Damascus. The genius of Arab
civilization found nowhere a more favorable field for its exercise than
at Palermo. Within a few months after its capture scarcely anything
remained to suggest that the city had not always been Mohammedan. Every
circumstance of time and locality was propitious to the foundation of
a new and powerful Moslem state which, in subsequent times, was fated
to influence the destiny and to form the civilization of some of the
greatest monarchies of Christendom.

The factious character of the troops composing the victorious army was
disclosed as soon as Palermo had fallen into their hands. A division
of Spanish Moors which had been prominent in the attack upon the city
claimed the conquest for the Ommeyades. But the superior numbers of the
Africans, as well as the fact that the expedition had been equipped at
the expense of the Sultan of Kairoan, soon disposed of this demand,
and Ziadet-Allah appointed his cousin, Abu-Fihr-Mohammed, as his
representative in Sicily. The Moslems, now secure of a refuge in case
of disaster and constantly receiving reinforcements, began to make
rapid progress in the subjection of the island. Their foraging parties
infested every accessible portion of the country, and carried their
ravages to the gates of Taormina on the eastern coast. The general
success attending their arms was, however, clouded by the assassination
of Abu-Fihr, whose murderers found an asylum with the enemy. His
successor, Fadl-Ibn-Yakub, defeated the Greeks in a pitched battle;
but the victory was rendered unprofitable by the incessant contentions
of the hostile parties which infested every portion of the military and
naval service of the Saracens. The unfavorable condition of affairs
having been reported to Ziadet-Allah, he sent Abu-al-Aghlab, the
brother of Abu-Fihr, to assume the supreme command. Under the direction
of this wise prince, whose talents speedily reconciled the disputes and
suppressed the insolence of the soldiery, the conquest was prosecuted
with renewed energy. He equipped a squadron of vessels provided with
projectiles of Greek fire, the most formidable weapon of the age, and
by its means soon became the master of the coast. The neighboring
islands which had hitherto escaped the calamities with which Sicily
had been visited were laid waste. Corleone, Platani, Marineo, and many
smaller towns were taken. The garrisons of the cities still held by
the Christians were so intimidated that they feared to venture beyond
their walls. At the end of the year 840 one-third of the island was
in the possession of the Arabs; their occupancy had lost its original
character of a desultory inroad, and now began to assume the appearance
of a permanent settlement; a truce, welcomed if not actually solicited
by the fears of the Greeks, imparted an assurance of at least temporary
security to the inhabitants, while an increasing trade with Egypt,
Africa, and Spain assured the commercial fortunes of the new colony,
whose power and prestige had already advanced to such a height that its
alliance was eagerly sought by its natural enemies on the other side of
the Strait of Messina.

With the death of Charlemagne, the Papacy, deprived of its protector,
was compelled to rely for the enforcement of its edicts upon the
celestial power from which its traditions derived both their origin
and their authority. Its divine claims to the obedience and reverence
of mankind had, however, little weight with the fierce nobles of the
age, when those pretensions were not sustained by armed force. At that
time the princes of Beneventum, descendants of the Lombards, ruled the
greater portion of Southern Italy. The little republics of Naples,
Gaeta, Sorrento, and Amalfi, whose independence was a political anomaly
in an era of feudal servitude, presented an unexpected and formidable
barrier to the ambitious designs of the Lombard barons. Aware of the
ultimate result of the struggle if fought unaided, and seeing no
opportunity of obtaining assistance from the monarchs of Christendom,
the despairing citizens of Naples applied to the Sicilian Moslems.
The alliance then concluded endured for fifty years, in defiance of
the proclamations of crusades, of the anathemas of the Church, and of
the campaigns inaugurated under its auspices, and on more than one
memorable occasion seriously menaced the perpetuity of the conditions
which prevailed in the political and religious society of Europe.

The Emir, Abu-al-Aghlab, lost no time in despatching a fleet to assist
the Neapolitans, already besieged by the Lombard prince, Sicardus. The
city was relieved, and the besiegers so taken at a disadvantage that
they were compelled to negotiate a truce with the republic, and to
release without ransom the prisoners whom they had captured. Scarcely
a year elapsed before the Neapolitans were called upon to enlist
their services in an enterprise of not inferior importance. A Moslem
squadron descended without warning upon Messina. Naples responded with
alacrity to the summons of her new allies; and while the attention
of the garrison was distracted by a furious attack by the combined
fleets, a picked detachment scaled the walls from the rear, and
almost without bloodshed another of the great Sicilian capitals was
added to the rapidly increasing Moorish empire. Encouraged by their
victory, the Saracens redoubled their efforts to extend and consolidate
their dominion. Their annals have preserved for us the names and the
memory of many flourishing cities, among them, Alimena, Lentini, and
Butera, whose prosperity had survived the pernicious effects of Roman
oppression and Byzantine neglect, whose capture was an important factor
in the conquest, but whose history and location are now more or less
involved in obscurity.

About this time the veteran Emir, Abu-al-Aghlab, died, full of years
and glory. The populace of Palermo, elated by success, and desirous
to assert, upon every occasion, their independent and seditious
spirit, without notice to the court of Kairoan, chose by acclamation,
as governor of the colony, Abbas-Ibn-Fadl, a captain noted for the
determination of his character and the ferocity of his manners. Under
his administration the war was prosecuted more vigorously than ever.
The fields of the industrious peasant, however remote, were never
secure from the destructive visits of the Arab freebooter. Such
Christian settlements as were sufficiently wealthy were permitted
to retain their lands upon payment of a tribute usually largely in
excess of that prescribed by Mohammedan law, and which was but a
doubtful guaranty of safety when the caprice of the conqueror suggested
an increase of his already rapacious and extravagant demands. The
requirements of a population constantly engaged in warfare necessitated
the employment of a large number of slaves in the cultivation of the
soil. These were obtained not only from captives taken in battle, but
as a portion of the tribute wrung from the cowardly Greeks, who did
not hesitate to sacrifice their retainers, and even their kinsmen,
for the enjoyment of a temporary security. The Moors, conscious of
the helplessness of their infidel tributaries, whom they considered
as already vanquished and indebted for even existence to their own
moderation, often refused offerings of gold and precious commodities,
and exacted instead the delivery of a prescribed number of human
cattle, whose lives were speedily extinguished by the severe labor to
which they were subjected in the pestilential atmosphere of the coast
and of the marshy valleys of the interior, where the culture of rice
was conducted with great profit and with a flagrant disregard of the
mortality it occasioned.

An incident, trivial in itself, but, in the event, most important, now
occurred to further exalt the reputation of the Moslem arms. A Greek of
high rank was seized by a scouting party of Saracens in the environs
of Castrogiovanni. The prisoner, conducted to Palermo, and found to
be incapable of manual labor and without means to procure the heavy
ransom demanded, was condemned to death by the merciless governor,
whose practical but cruel policy did not encourage the maintenance of
useless captives. As he was being led away by the executioner, the
Greek patrician implored with passionate entreaties the clemency of the
Emir, promising him the possession of Castrogiovanni if his life were
spared. Abbas listened with eagerness to a proposal so congenial to his
adventurous and ambitious spirit. A detachment of a thousand horsemen
and seven hundred foot, selected for their prowess, was assembled with
all diligence and secrecy, and, guided by the renegade and commanded
by the Emir in person, departed in silence from Palermo by night, and
proceeded to its destination by unfrequented roads and the dangerous
paths of mountain solitudes. Arriving without molestation in the
vicinity of the city, the Arab general placed all of his cavalry and
a portion of his infantry in ambush on the south, where the approach
was the least difficult, and the groves of the suburban residences
occupied by the wealthier inhabitants afforded excellent facilities
for concealment. A chosen band of warriors, directed by the Byzantine
traitor, ascended with infinite trouble the precipitous face of the
rock on the north side of the citadel, and at the foot of the wall
awaited with impatience the first rays of the sun. With the approach of
dawn, the vigilance of the sentinels was relaxed, for the impregnable
character of the fortress seemed of itself sufficient protection in
the glare of open day, and, forgetting that vigilance is one of the
first duties of a soldier, the guards sought repose after the fatigues
of the night. No sooner had they disappeared from the ramparts, when
the Moslems, in single file, introduced themselves into the citadel by
means of an aqueduct which passed under the wall. The few stragglers
abroad at that early hour were cut down; the gates were thrown open,
and, amidst the clash of arms and the war-cry of the Moslems, the main
body of the detachment, headed by the Emir, dashed into the city.
The lustre of the triumph was sadly tarnished by the atrocities with
which it was accompanied. The garrison was deliberately butchered. Not
a single soldier escaped. The women and children were condemned to
slavery. Within the walls of Castrogiovanni, as a place of absolute
security, were collected the most distinguished and opulent of the
Christian inhabitants, with the bulk of the remaining treasure of the
island. The priesthood had stored here the wealth amassed by the fears
and the generosity of the superstitious and devout populace during
many centuries. All became the prey of the conqueror. The value of the
booty was immense. Hardly a patrician family could be found in all
Sicily which did not mourn the captivity of some relative or friend.
The children of nobles who traced their genealogy to the most brilliant
epoch of Roman grandeur were ruthlessly consigned to the guard-rooms
and the harems of Moorish captains. The loss of Castrogiovanni was the
greatest calamity which had befallen the Sicilians since the Saracens
first landed on the island. The customary changes instituted by the
latter on the capture of a city were perfected without delay, the
churches were purified and turned into mosques, the estates of the
vanquished were partitioned among the principal officers, the tribute
of the surviving citizens was regulated, the slaves were apportioned
among their new masters, and the plunder was classified and divided
according to the regulations of Islam. The boundless exultation of the
victors led them to set apart, in addition to the usual fifth of the
spoil due to the Sultan, a portion of the richest booty and a number of
the most beautiful captives for the Khalif of Bagdad, whose supremacy
was not acknowledged by the Moorish princes of the West. Thus in the
hour of triumph these sanguinary fanatics, many of whom recognized
no law but that of force, and no faith save the idolatrous worship
proscribed by the Koran, could forget the national hatred engendered
by generations of hostility and the acrimony of religious controversy,
in their magnanimous desire to honor the Successor of the Prophet, the
most exalted potentate of the Mohammedan world.

The political results that followed the surprise of Castrogiovanni
were not less weighty than the physical advantages which enured to the
victorious Saracens. The military prestige of the latter was immensely
increased. While the Christians held the fortress it was confidently
believed that no enemy could take it. The flower of the Moslem army
had already retired in disgrace from before its walls. It was the
bulwark of imperial power, the refuge of the Church, the asylum of the
timid. Its possession was a guaranty that the hated invader could never
extend his dominion over the island; the pledge that the ceremonies of
his blasphemous ritual would never pollute the holy precincts of its
temples. Relics, whose miraculous virtues were attested by the votive
offerings of the pious of many generations, were exhibited upon its
shrines. And now that this stronghold had fallen, men lost confidence
in the protecting power of Heaven, as they had already done in the
efficacy of human weapons. The unfortunate garrison had paid for its
negligence with death. The sacred mementos of the saints had been
discredited. To a feeling of apathy, however, soon succeeded a desire
for vengeance. Even the idle and licentious court of Constantinople was
stirred to action, and a fleet of three hundred sail was despatched
from the Bosphorus to retrieve the disaster and to re-establish the
imperial authority. Landing at Syracuse, the Greeks advanced along the
coast accompanied by the fleet. The Emir, advised of their movements,
fell upon them unexpectedly; the astonished and ill-disciplined
soldiers of the East were unable to withstand the furious attack of
the Arabs, and in the rout which followed the savage victors indulged
to satiety their thirst for carnage. No prisoners were taken. The
terrified Greeks, huddled together in disorder, were massacred without
pity. Hundreds were drowned in an ineffectual attempt to reach the
fleet by swimming. The intrepid Moslems, with the aid of boats obtained
from Palermo, captured a hundred vessels from the enemy; their crews
being driven into the water at the edge of the scimetar. Undaunted by
this catastrophe, a second expedition was organized for the reconquest
of the island; the imperial army was increased by a considerable number
of Sicilians, and the combined forces marched upon Palermo. Again the
wily Abbas, by the celerity of his movements and the bravery of his
troops, disconcerted the plans of the enemy. After a furious battle
near Cefalu, the advantage of the day remained with the Saracens;
the Greeks were compelled to retreat, and the Emir, enraged by the
obstinate resistance he had encountered, retaliated by carrying fire
and sword to the gates of Syracuse.

Soon after his return from this expedition, Abbas became ill and died,
and his remains, committed to the grave by his sorrowing followers,
were, after the departure of the latter, dug up by the Greeks, insulted
by every device of impotent malice which hatred and fear could suggest,
and finally consumed by fire; the only means of revenge available to
his pusillanimous adversaries, who had so frequently experienced the
vindictiveness of his temper and the power of his arms. During the
eleven years of his administration, the Christians were subjected to
continuous warfare. Like the Great Al-Mansur, he understood perfectly
the advantages of allowing an enemy no time to replenish his treasury
or to recruit his strength. By the efforts of his military genius the
boundaries of the imperial domain had been annually contracted, until
little territory acknowledged the supremacy of Constantinople except
that in the immediate vicinity of Syracuse. His political sagacity
suggested the alliance with the disaffected states of Italy, and the
establishment of Moslem settlements on the main-land as a basis of
future military operations and a perpetual menace to both the imperial
and the papal courts.

The death of the Emir Abbas was the signal of discord and contention
in every Saracen community in Sicily. The tribal prejudices of the
different factions which had been temporarily repressed by the iron
will of the deceased governor now manifested themselves with greater
violence than ever. The Berbers, the Yemenites, and the Ismailians
arrayed themselves against one another in a bitter triangular
contest. Assassination became of every-day occurrence. The property
of citizens was not secure from the rapacious and insubordinate
soldiery even within the walls of castles. With the commission of
every fresh outrage, the animosity of the rival factions was inflamed
and intensified. Towns and districts became mutually and vindictively
hostile. As was the case in all the countries governed by the
Mohammedan polity, whose regulations were incapable of controlling
the antagonistic elements which from the very foundation of a state
threatened its dismemberment, the Sicilian colony disclosed the same
symptoms of ruin, and began to exhibit a tendency to disintegration
even before the sovereignty of the Moslems had been fully established
over the island.

A monarch of far different temper from his predecessors was now seated
upon the throne of the Cæsars. The career of Basil, the Macedonian,
whose statesmanlike qualities and inflexible resolution had reformed
the administration of the Empire, had suppressed the abuses of the
Church, and had challenged the respect of the barbarians, seemed to
indicate an adversary far more to be feared than the two Michaels,--the
“Stammerer” and the “Drunkard,”--under whose disgraceful reigns the
successes of the Moslems had been principally obtained.

Before this epoch the Christians of Sicily, notwithstanding the
prejudices of race and religious belief, and the grievous injuries they
had sustained at the hands of their enemies, had begun to observe with
increasing favor the equitable government of the Moslems as compared
with the capricious and extortionate exactions of the officials of the
Empire. The condition of the tributaries under Mussulman dominion,
while unquestionably less favorable than that of their co-religionists
in almost any other Mohammedan country, was still worthy of envy by
the subjects of the Byzantine Emperor. Their tax was certain and
fixed by law. They enjoyed, unmolested by persecution, the practice
of their faith and the observance of their social customs, so far as
they did not interfere with those peculiar to their rulers. Their own
magistrates dispensed justice in ordinary causes according to the
forms of legal procedure to which they had always been accustomed.
The frequent impositions of the court of Constantinople were far
more onerous than the tribute demanded at a defined period by the
collectors of the Moorish treasury. All things considered, there is
little doubt that, had it not been for the pernicious example of
anarchy afforded by hostile factions at the death of every emir, the
remaining portion of the island would have voluntarily submitted within
a few years to the authority of Islam. The excesses of the ferocious
partisans, who, during the interregnum preceding the election of every
new governor, plundered friend and foe alike, deterred the timid
Christians from seeking a change of masters, and the accession of the
Emperor Basil confirmed them in their allegiance. The first effort
of the new sovereign was to raise the aspirations of the tributaries
to independence. Conspiracies were formed. A considerable part of
the territory held by the Moslems, visited by the emissaries of the
Emperor, and encouraged by the disturbances following the death of
Abbas, revolted. The insurrection was quelled, but the misconduct
of the captains appointed by the new governor, Khafagia-Ibn-Sofian,
brought disgrace and disaster upon the Saracen arms. The Emir himself
was repulsed before Syracuse, which had been reinforced and greatly
strengthened by the Emperor, who recognized it as the key of the
imperial power in Sicily. Not long afterwards this misfortune was
retrieved by a great victory gained over the imperial forces under
the walls of that city, in which the army of the Greeks was almost
annihilated, and the Moslems, laden with the rich spoil of the East,
returned in triumph to Palermo. In the year 869 Khafagia lost his life
in an ineffectual attempt to capture Syracuse by storm. The next year
his son Mohammed, who succeeded him, was assassinated by his own
slaves.

The repeated reverses sustained by the Greeks had impaired confidence
in their leaders, whose incompetency was more responsible for the
defeats of the imperial army than the want of discipline which was
so conspicuous among the rank and file. Although the progress of the
Moslems was slow, it was certain. Their losses were easily repaired,
their impetuosity was rather stimulated than checked by misfortune,
and in every respect their recuperative power proved itself superior
to that of their enemies. The territory of Sicily, although far from
subdued, seemed too limited for their daring ambition. Passing the
Strait of Messina they swept the ancient province of Magna-Græcia
with destruction. They conquered Apulia and Calabria. They ravaged
the duchy of Spoleto. They surprised Ancona. They seized Beneventum,
Brindisi, Tarentum, Bari. They occupied the promontory of Misenum,
under the very walls of Naples. They established themselves on the
coast of Dalmatia. They sacked and burned the ancient city of Capua.
They founded the colony of Garigliano, a constant menace to the
Papal States, and long the scourge of the Christian principalities
of Italy. Independent settlements, composed of soldiers of fortune
who had become familiarized with their pitiless calling in the civil
wars of Spain and Africa, were founded throughout the south of the
Italian Peninsula. The captains of these outlaws assumed the titles of
sovereignty, robbed and massacred the Christian peasants, and acquired
for the name of Moslem a terror and an execration not inferior to that
which distinguished the powers of darkness. Neapolitan pilots guided
their corsairs along the shores of the Adriatic. The squadrons of the
Sultan of Africa routed the Venetians in several naval encounters,
landed forces at the mouth of the Po, drove the commerce of the Italian
republics from the sea, and pushed their incursions as far as the
confines of Istria. They penetrated to the gates of Rome, destroyed
the churches of St. Peter and St. Paul, which were situated outside
the walls, and insulted the dignity of the Holy See by horrible acts
of sacrilege. The relics of the Saints were subjected to unspeakable
insult. Monks were slaughtered without mercy or driven away in crowds
to toil in the Sicilian marshes. Nuns were seized to be exposed for
sale in the slave-markets of Palermo and Kairoan. Had it not been that
the Eternal City was too well fortified for an army unprovided with the
military engines necessary for a siege to attack it with any prospect
of success, the Mohammedan worship might have been introduced into the
stronghold of Christianity. With the exception of the sack of Rome by
the Constable of Bourbon in a subsequent age, the throne of the Papacy
was never subjected to a more humiliating indignity. The constant
dissensions of the semi-independent principalities of Italy aided
in maintaining the foothold of the Saracens far more than their own
valor or resources. Their colonies existed by the sufferance of their
foes. The feudal barons, in most instances, detested their Christian
neighbors--not infrequently connected with them by ties of blood as
well as by the obligations of a common religious belief--far more than
the blaspheming Moslems. In vain was the aid of the Emperor of Germany
invoked; his plans were thwarted by the discord and treachery of his
allies. The forces he despatched for the relief of the Italians were
constantly at variance with the Byzantines, and armies, almost equal to
the conquest of an empire, were fruitlessly employed in the quarrels
of petty sovereigns, whose union was indispensable to the expulsion
of a crafty and audacious enemy. The Pope, either through weakness or
from motives of policy, seems to have generally kept aloof from this
crusade, prosecuted in his behalf as the head of Christendom, as well
as to assure the stability of his temporal power.

During the course of these events, Ibrahim-Ibn-Ahmed, a prince of
rare administrative talents, of vast accomplishments, of boundless
ambition, and of a character remarkable for barbarity even in an age of
tyrants, had ascended the throne of Kairoan. Desirous of signalizing
his accession by the successful prosecution of an enterprise which
his predecessors had in vain attempted, he determined to capture
Syracuse. A numerous army was raised. In accordance with the favorite
policy of the sovereigns of Africa, special care was exercised that
the malcontents who had manifested hostility towards the government
should be enrolled in the expedition. When pecuniary inducements
failed to tempt these disturbers of the peace, they were seized and
forced to embark. The preparations were worthy of the importance and
difficulties of the undertaking. The fleet consisted of the swiftest
and largest vessels of the Moorish navy. The army was provided with the
most formidable engines ever constructed by the Arabs for the siege
of any city. The command was intrusted to Giafar-Ibn-Mohammed, the
newly appointed Emir of Sicily, an officer of ability, experience, and
courage.

It was fifty years since the Moslems had made their first attempt to
wrest from the Byzantines this great city renowned from the earliest
antiquity. Its conquest had been the cherished dream of many emirs,
one after another of whom had retired in disgrace from before its
walls. In every campaign, its suburbs, and the lands upon which its
population were mainly dependent for subsistence, had been ravaged by
squadrons of Moorish horsemen. The diminution of tribute consequent
upon the failure and destruction of agricultural products, the massacre
and enslavement of the cultivators of the soil, the stagnation of
commerce, and the emigration of wealthy citizens, had induced the court
of Constantinople--which viewed every question with an eye single to
pecuniary advantage--to almost withdraw its support from the last
remaining bulwark against the Moslem supremacy in Sicily. The number of
inhabitants had been greatly diminished within a quarter of a century.
The troops who still maintained the shadow of imperial power in the
island were largely recruited from the martial youth of Syracuse. The
pestilence, which had so often decimated the besiegers, had not spared
the defenders of the city. Thousands had perished from this cause
alone. These facts being considered, and the vast extent of its walls
being remembered, it is probable that at no previous period of its
history was Syracuse so ill qualified to sustain a siege.

The Byzantine commander, aware of his inability to defend the outer
fortifications, within which stood the finest houses and the cathedral,
withdrew to the inner line which traversed the isthmus separating the
two basins of the harbor. So far as the number and importance of its
buildings were concerned, the city was more than half taken when the
Moslem army, without opposition, filed through the deserted gateways
of the outer wall. Upon the narrow isthmus, measuring but little more
than a hundred yards in width, the assembled forces of both armies
contended furiously for the mastery. The Moorish engineers had invented
catapults of improved construction and terrific power, which instead
of projecting their missiles in a curve, as had hitherto been the
case, hurled them directly against the walls with unheard-of velocity
and accuracy of aim. Every expedient familiar to ancient warfare was
adopted to drive the garrison to extremity. Mines were carried under
the towers. Greek fire was thrown into every quarter of the city, to
the dismay of the besieged, who found themselves continually threatened
with destructive conflagrations. The Christians were compelled to the
exertion of constant vigilance to repel the storming parties that
mounted to the attack at all hours of the day and night. A fleet sent
by the Emperor to raise the siege was dispersed by the Saracen galleys,
which by this victory virtually acquired control of the Mediterranean.
The double port was occupied by the enemy, the Greeks were driven
from the northern side of the city into the citadel, and the walls
which defended the harbor were demolished. The Syracusans were now
abandoned to their own resources. Their valor, their endurance, and
their loyalty were their sole reliance. No assistance could reach
them from any quarter. Assailed by sea and land, they maintained
an obstinate defence. With an improvidence characteristic of the
Byzantine, no adequate supply of provisions had been collected. The
rapid movements of the Moslems and their unexpected appearance had
prevented any subsequent reparation of this inexcusable neglect.
Despite the disadvantages under which they labored, the people of
Syracuse sustained with honor the martial reputation of their city,
famous for many a hard-fought contest. Famine destroyed many whom the
weapons of the enemy had spared. The inhabitants were reduced to eat
moss scraped from the walls, to devour hides and broken bones, even to
feed upon the flesh of the slain. An ass’s head was valued at twenty
gold byzants; a small measure of grain could not be obtained for less
than one hundred and fifty. The use of unwholesome food soon produced a
plague. Such was the mortality from this cause alone that one-quarter
of the inhabitants perished in a month. Notwithstanding their knowledge
of the inertness of the Byzantine government, and the rigid blockade of
the Moslems, the Syracusans had not relinquished all hope of relief.
The Emperor Basil had grievously disappointed the expectations which
had been formed of his character, which had been derived from his early
career as a soldier, and from his vigorous measures of reform on his
accession to the imperial throne. His mind had proved incapable of
withstanding the blighting ecclesiastical influence which pervaded the
atmosphere of Constantinople. Of late, he had endeavored to expiate
the errors and crimes of former years by a degrading subserviency
to the sacerdotal order. He honored the priesthood with employments
of the highest importance. Monks, some of them eunuchs of unsavory
antecedents, became his advisers in affairs of state. He erected
a hundred churches, many of them in honor of St. Michael, as the
ineffectual atonement of a guilty conscience for the cruel treatment of
his murdered sovereign. And now, while the Syracusans were striving,
with undaunted courage, to uphold the dignity and power of the Empire
in the only stronghold of Sicily which still resisted the encroachments
of the infidel, this abject slave of superstition was employing his
soldiers in the construction of a stately basilica, a penance enjoined
by the exhortations of his ghostly counsellors.

As the spirits of the besieged fell day by day, and their ranks
were thinned by casualty, famine, and disease, the efforts of the
Moslems became more determined than ever. The massive walls of the
citadel gradually crumbled under the incessant discharges from
ballistas and catapults directed against such a limited extent of
their circumference. The great tower which defended the larger harbor,
undermined, and battered for months by the military engines, was
finally precipitated into the water, carrying with it a part of the
contiguous defences. This event, long expected by the besiegers, was
the signal for a furious assault. Urged on by every consideration of
ambition, zeal, avarice, and revenge, the Saracens entered the breach
with an impetuosity that threatened to bear down all opposition. But
they were met with a determination equal to their own. The garrison,
though weakened by privation and fatigue, sustained the struggle with
the energy of despair. The inhabitants, all told, scarcely reached the
number of twenty thousand. Each one, however, contributed his or her
part towards the defence of home and religion; the priests, attired
in their sacred vestments, animated the soldiery by their prayers and
benedictions, the women cared tenderly for the wounded and the dying.
For twenty days and nights the valor of the Syracusans held their
assailants at bay. A rampart of corpses, rising for many feet upon
the ruins of the demolished wall, afforded a ghastly bulwark for the
protection of the besieged, while it poisoned the air far and wide with
its horrible effluvium. The combat was hand to hand. No missile weapons
were used. The issue could not be doubtful, and yet the Christians
never for an instant entertained a thought of surrender. At length
the Moslems withdrew, the din of battle ceased, and the governor,
without distrusting the intentions of his wily enemy, leaving a small
detachment to keep watch, retired with the main body of his forces for
a moment’s rest. All at once every engine in the Saracen camp sent
forth its deadly projectiles, and from ruined houses, fallen rampart,
and shattered wall, the besiegers, at the stirring sound of atabal
and trumpet, again rushed forward into the breach. The success of
the stratagem was complete. The slender guard to which the careless
confidence of the governor had committed the destinies of the devoted
city was cut to pieces in an instant. The garrison, massing its forces
in the streets, endeavored in vain to stem the furious torrent. The
frightened inhabitants sought the sanctuary of the churches only to be
butchered at the altar. Exasperated beyond measure by the resistance of
a people who, even in the face of death, disdained to yield, the fierce
assailants greedily satiated their thirst for blood. The archbishop
and three of his ecclesiastical subordinates, seized in the cathedral,
were spared on condition of revealing the place where were deposited
the sacred vessels used in the ceremonial of public worship. The
heroic governor, whose name unfortunately no Christian or Arab writer
has deemed worthy to be transmitted to posterity, threw himself with
seventy nobles into a tower of the citadel, which was stormed and taken
on the ensuing day. As was the custom in the Sicilian wars prosecuted
by the Saracens, all men of mature age were put to the sword. Such
of these as had escaped the weapons of the enemy during the assault
were collected, imprisoned for a week, and then, huddled together in a
narrow space, were inhumanly beaten and stoned to death. Some imprudent
zealots, who courted martyrdom by reviling the name of Mohammed, were
flayed alive. Four thousand captives were disposed of in a single day
by this atrocious but effective method. The women and children, without
exception, were condemned to slavery. Out of nearly fifteen thousand
people, but a few hundred succeeded in evading the vigilant search of
the Saracens, to carry into Christian lands the story of a defence
seldom equalled for gallantry and endurance in the annals of warfare,
and to publish to the astonished and indignant nations of Europe the
criminal apathy and cowardice of the vaunted champion of Christendom,
the weak and superstitious sovereign of the Eastern Empire. As Syracuse
had long been the principal depository of the treasure of the island
which had escaped the rapacity of former campaigns, as well as a place
far famed for its commerce and the wealth of its citizens, great booty
was secured by the conquerors. The Arab chroniclers relate that in no
other capital ever subjected to the Moslems did such precious spoil
fall into their hands. The ecclesiastic Theodosius, an eye-witness
not disposed to exaggerate the success of his enemies, places its
value at a million byzants, equal at the present time to more than
twenty million dollars. The sacred vessels and utensils taken from
the churches weighed five thousand pounds. Composed entirely of the
precious metals, their value, intrinsically enormous, was greatly
enhanced by their exquisite workmanship, which exhibited the skill of
the most accomplished artisans of Constantinople. For some reason,
for which at this lapse of time it is impossible to offer a plausible
conjecture, the Moslems determined to utterly demolish the stronghold
which had so long and so resolutely resisted their arms. As the battle
had been confined to a comparatively limited area, the larger portion
of the city was still uninjured. The outer walls, which enclosed the
suburbs and the splendid mansions of the wealthy and the noble, were
intact. Entire streets, while silent and deserted, presented no other
evidence of the destructiveness of war. Rows of marble palaces still
reared their majestic fronts along the avenues and squares which the
opulent Syracusans had embellished with every resource of pomp and
luxury. On all sides were elegant colonnades, amphitheatres, temples.
In the public gardens the senses were delighted and refreshed by
numerous parterres and fountains; in the forums, at every step, the
observer was confronted with the speaking effigies of the famous heroes
of antiquity. While devoted to the lucrative pursuits of commerce, the
attention of the polished citizens of Syracuse had been by no means
monopolized by practical occupations. They were generous patrons of
literary and artistic genius. Their architects and their sculptors
seem to have inherited no small proportion of Attic excellence. No
Italian city which derived its civilization from Grecian colonists
had preserved unimpaired to such a high degree the evidences of its
noble origin. The elegant conceptions embodied in the works of the
artists of Syracuse, the skill of their execution, the purity of taste
they disclosed, the superiority of their materials, offered a marked
contrast to the crude and barbaric efforts of Byzantine mediocrity.

There seemed no reason why this magnificent city should be doomed
to annihilation. Its fortifications--whose prodigious strength had
been demonstrated by a contest of half a century--could have been
easily repaired. Its situation was delightful, its harbors capacious,
its territory productive, its mercantile facilities unrivalled. Its
abandoned habitations could without difficulty have afforded shelter
to a population of a hundred thousand souls. The remembrance of its
traditions, the prestige of its name, the glory of its capture,
might well have induced the victors to preserve it as an enduring
monument to their perseverance and valor. But no considerations of
utility or sentiment influenced the ruthless determination of the
Moorish commander. The order went forth that Syracuse must be utterly
destroyed. An idea can be formed of the massive character of its
structures by the statement that two months were required for their
demolition. At length, when the walls had been dismantled, the houses
razed, and the harbors choked with rubbish, the conquerors applied the
torch, and the flames completed the ruin which rapine and vandalism had
so successfully begun.

The prisoners and the spoil were despatched to Palermo under a strong
guard of Africans. Six days and nights were required for the painful
journey. Eager to arrive at their destination, the brutal soldiery
refused to allow their captives a moment of rest, and the march was
accomplished without a halt, except when the necessity of preparing
food or the physical obstacles of the mountain pathways caused delay.
At the approach of the melancholy procession the gates of the Moslem
capital poured forth its thousands of turbaned spectators. The sight
of the long train of captives, and of plunder such as had never
before dazzled the eyes of the most experienced veteran, aroused
the fervid enthusiasm of the multitude. Some displayed their joy by
extravagant gestures and dances, but the majority, more decorous,
chanted in unison appropriate passages from the Koran. Many of the
captives, after unspeakable sufferings, perished in the subterranean
dungeons of Palermo. Others obtained an infamous security by the
public renunciation of their faith. The fall of Syracuse practically
completes the Moslem conquest of Sicily. The degenerate monarch, who,
through his inexcusable neglect, was responsible for the loss of the
island, made no serious effort to recover it. A few insignificant
towns, the principal of which was Taormina, indebted for their
safety rather to the indifference of the Saracens than to their own
impregnability, still remained faithful to the Emperor. The Byzantine
standard--the emblem of rapacity, bigotry, and every political
abuse--disappeared forever from those lofty ramparts where it had
waved for so many centuries. Henceforth the prowess of the conquerors
was to be principally exerted against each other. The annals of Sicily
for many subsequent years are a tedious and unprofitable recital of
conspiracies, assassinations, and civil commotions, of the ineffectual
efforts of ambitious captains aspiring to independent sovereignty,
of the rapid succession of emirs of sanguinary tastes and mediocre
abilities, of defiance of and indecisive conflicts with the princes
of Kairoan. History was repeating itself. The disorders which had
disgraced the society of every Moslem country, when the apparent
cohesion of races was dissolved by the defeat and expulsion of the
common enemy, were now exhibited on a smaller scale, but with no less
vindictiveness, upon the narrow theatre of Sicily. Elevation to the
emirate, whether sanctioned or not by the confirmation and investiture
of the African Sultan, had become a most perilous distinction. Tribes
and factions pursued each other with relentless hatred. Not even in
Spain were the glaring defects of the Moslem polity more conspicuous,
or the vicious character of the components of the social organization
more thoroughly revealed. The constant deportation of criminals and
political malcontents by the Sultans of Africa, as a measure of
prudence whose inexpediency was demonstrated in every new insurrection,
was largely responsible for this general disorganization. It could not
reasonably be supposed that these disturbers of public tranquillity,
whose lives had been passed amidst the turmoil of religious and
military revolution, would remain quiet under any government.

While the Moslem factions with varying success were wasting their
energies in suicidal conflicts, the Christian communities, many
of which were respectable in wealth and numbers, were enabled by
sufferance to enjoy a temporary respite. The conclusion of the war had
accomplished one most beneficial result, an interchange of captives.
From the dark vaults of noisome dungeons; from the galley, with its
scourge and its clanking fetters; from the rice-fields, reeking with
miasmatic vapors; from the gilded antechambers of the harem; the
prisoners, who had long since abandoned hope, were now led forth to be
restored to home and kindred. The struggle which for more than half
a century had engaged alike the attention of Christian and Moslem
throughout the world was ended. Mankind now began to cast anxious
glances towards the new Mohammedan state which formed a stepping-stone
by which the hordes of Africa might once more enter Europe. The passage
of the Strait of Messina offered fewer obstacles to an invader than
that of the Strait of Gibraltar. From the confines of Calabria it was
a march of only a few days to Rome, and it was not forgotten that the
banners of Islam had once been seen before the walls of the Eternal
City. Numerous colonies of Moslems, most of which seemed to threaten
permanent occupancy, were established in Southern Italy; the Moorish
navy had asserted its power in the Adriatic; an intimate alliance
existed between the Republic of Naples and the emirs of Sicily. Not
without cause therefore did Christendom regard with unconcealed
apprehension the presence of such implacable foes in close proximity
to her capital. No adequate means of defence existed to ward off the
impending danger. The court of Constantinople had retired discomfited
from the field. Italy was distracted by the quarrels of a multitude
of insignificant principalities. The Papacy had not yet attained to
that commanding position in the political system of Europe which it
subsequently occupied, and its temporal power was confined to the
agitation of the mob of the capital, whose passions, once aroused, it
was not always able to control. The dream of Musa, who boasted that the
unity of God would be proclaimed in the Church of St. Peter, seemed now
far more easy of realization, when the Saracen armies were separated
from Rome by only a narrow channel and a few hours’ march, than when
the project first awoke the ambition of that daring general beyond the
intervening mountain barriers of the Pyrenees and the Alps.

The peace of the island having been finally assured after much
bloodshed, the efforts of the emirs were directed to the extension of
their empire in Italy. Political necessity rather than inclination
had compelled the rulers of the Saracen settlements in Calabria
and Apulia to recognize the superior jurisdiction of the governors
of Sicily. The division of those regions between so many powers of
different nationalities and forms of government--imperial, republican,
theocratic--was the cause of mutual distrust and irreconcilable hatred.
Each held aloof from alliance or even from intercourse with the others.
Their very weakness was at first the guaranty of their safety. The
Moslem, however, took advantage of this circumstance to attack his
adversaries in detail. On one side he drove back the Byzantines, who
had begun to threaten his settlements on the Gulf of Tarentum. On
another, his cavalry swept away the flocks of the Roman Campagna. The
republics, restrained by the faith of treaties, and the barons, who had
more than once felt the keen edge of the Moorish scimetar, preserved a
prudent neutrality. The country in the vicinity of the papal metropolis
for a radius of many miles suffered from these inroads. Large districts
were rendered uninhabitable. An important source of the food supply
of Rome was destroyed. The fury of the Moslems was, as usual, chiefly
aimed at the ecclesiastical establishments. Churches and convents
were destroyed, the priests butchered, the nuns hurried away to the
seraglio. The fugitives who sought an asylum at Rome crowded the
streets and the religious houses, and taxed to the utmost the resources
of monastic hospitality and benevolence. Within the walls of the
Eternal City all was trepidation and despair. An attack was hourly
apprehended, the sacred machinery of the church was put in motion to
avert the impending calamity, and the result invested with new and
profitable credit the performance of penance, the exhibition of relics,
and the solemn processions, whose influence was presumed to have
effected the deliverance of the Vicar of God.

It is not within the scope of this work to recount in detail the
monotonous sequence of fruitless revolutions, changes of rulers,
religious disputes, and inveterate animosities of sects and races which
compose the history of Sicily under the Arabs. No magnificent dynasty
like those of the Ommeyades at Cordova and the Abbasides at Bagdad
arose in the island to promote the cause of learning and science, and
to reflect imperishable lustre on the Moslem name. No great commander
carried his victorious arms beyond the Apennines and the Alps. The
maritime superiority acquired by the fleets of Palermo was lost in
a day in the bay of Naples, and the Byzantine navy once more became
supreme in the Mediterranean. No military exploit worthy of record has
been preserved save the storming of Taormina, which still obeyed the
Greek Emperor, in the beginning of the tenth century.

The cruelty with which the ascendency of each triumphant faction
was celebrated familiarized the Sicilians with scenes of blood, and
impressed itself indelibly upon the national character, while the
innate love of rapine, common to Arab and Berber alike, still survives
in the irrepressible brigandage of to-day. The greatest opportunity
ever afforded the Moslems for the conquest and conversion of Europe was
lost by the irresolution of the Sultans of Africa, and by the perpetual
discord which exhausted the strength and dissipated the resources of
Sicily. After acknowledgment in turn of the suzerainty of Aghlabite,
Abbaside, and Fatimite princes, the mutual persecution of religious
sects, and the long toleration of the feuds of antagonistic races, the
Sicilian emirate finally attained to independence, based upon the law
of hereditary succession. But this new political condition brought no
peace to the unhappy island. Every captain of banditti, every ambitious
courtier, considered himself eligible to a dignity which could claim in
reality no better title than that given by the sword. The country was
divided into numerous states agitated by petty jealousies and incapable
of concerted action in an hour of national peril. The city of Syracuse,
which had been partially rebuilt and, despite the unsettled affairs of
the times, had once more become an important seaport, was in the year
1060 the capital of Ibn-Thimna, who exercised a nominal authority over
the larger portion of the island. A domestic quarrel brought him in
collision with Ibn-Hawwasci, the governor of Castrogiovanni; a battle
was fought, the army of Ibn-Thimna was destroyed, and the conqueror
succeeded to the dignity and the dominions of his vanquished rival.
Consumed with hatred and regardless of consequences, Ibn-Thimna then
solicited the aid of a band of adventurers whose prowess was widely
renowned throughout Europe, and the exploits of whose ancestors
in former ages had caused them to be considered the scourge of
civilization and the implacable enemies of the human race.

In the Italian Peninsula, the Moslems long held the balance of power.
Its most productive territory was for fourteen years a prey to the
violence and rapacity of a few hundred Arab freebooters. The ministers
of the Church were naturally the principal objects of their hostility
and contempt. The priests were put to death after having been subjected
to every indignity. The monks were tortured, enslaved, emasculated. The
consecrated vessels of divine worship--whose hiding place was revealed
by serfs exasperated by generations of oppression--were profaned with
every refinement of blasphemy and sacrilege. Dogs and horses were
enveloped in sacred vestments. The smoke of censers perfumed the air
amidst the orgies of licentious banquets. From jewelled chalices were
drunk toasts to the success of the Moslem armies. Upon the very altar
was sacrificed the chastity of the spouses of Christ. During the ninth
century, every ship bound for Italian ports was laid under contribution
by the Arab corsairs. The dukes of Spoleto and Tuscany joined the
Saracens of Tarentum in an impious league to deprive the Pontiff of his
possessions and his power. The republics of Gaeta, Naples, Amalfi, and
Salerno formed a confederacy to the same end with the Emir of Sicily.
Pope John VIII., abandoned by his vassals, for two years regularly
paid tribute to the infidel, and the Holy See thus became virtually a
dependency of the Moslem empire.

In the cosmopolitan cities of Palermo and Messina were grouped types of
every race of Europe, Africa, and Asia, the most turbulent elements of
medieval society, the most vicious products of the evils of servitude
and the tyranny of caste; native Sicilians, degenerate Greeks, Lombard
exiles; Negroes, Persians, and Jews; outlawed criminals, pariahs,
refugees, apostates, and banditti. Here personal feuds and tribal
hatred were prosecuted with every circumstance of perfidiousness and
ferocity. Here Arab and Berber renewed the quarrel begun a century
before in Mauritania, which in the end involved in ruin both the
Ommeyade dynasty and the Sicilian Emirate. Here was nourished the
spirit of discord which proved fatal to Moslem supremacy and called
in the Normans, as in former times the dissensions of the Lombard
principalities had invited the Saracen invasion of Italy. The rule
of the Byzantine had been feeble, inert, and quiescent; moulded by
the incompetency of a cowardly government and the fears of a degraded
people. That of the Arab, on the other hand, was restless, energetic,
ambitious, aggressive. His versatility and his enterprise were
unfortunately largely neutralized by the character of the elements with
which he had to deal. As proved by the event, a formidable state may be
founded, but cannot be perpetuated, by a coalition of outcasts. It is
not from such sources that are derived the greatness, the glory, the
security of empires.

The Normans of the eleventh century had, by the intercourse of several
generations of warriors with the polished nations of the Mediterranean,
acquired a knowledge of the laws of humanity and the usages of social
life unheard of among their barbarian forefathers, who had defied the
perils of the English Channel and the Bay of Biscay in diminutive
vessels of skins and osier, and carried dismay among the populous
cities and rich settlements of the Seine and the Guadalquivir. Tempted
by the charms of soil and climate enjoyed by that province of Northern
France which still retains their name and the memory of their valor,
these daring pirates exchanged without hesitation the dangers of a
predatory existence upon the seas for the less exciting but more
profitable employments of a sedentary life. With the abandonment of
country was at the same time associated a renunciation of religion.
The Pagan ceremonies and savage customs attending the worship of
Woden were discarded for the imposing forms and benign precepts of
Christianity. These significant events did not, however, produce any
material alteration in the tastes, the character, or the aspirations
of the great body of the Norman youth. The theatre of action alone was
changed. In a moral point of view, no appreciable distinction exists
between a pirate and a soldier of fortune. The Norman man-at-arms
retained all the marauding instincts of his race, modified to some
extent by the civilization with which he was occasionally brought
in contact through his casual association with the accomplished
inhabitants of Moorish Spain and the shrewd and adventurous traders
of the Byzantine Empire. He had inherited the lofty stature of his
ancestors, their enormous strength and powers of endurance, their
contempt of danger, their barbarity in the treatment of a vanquished
foe. Attracted to Italy by the accounts of pilgrims returning from the
Holy Land, the Normans first appear in the history of that country as
the mercenaries of those principalities whose close proximity to each
other kept them in a condition of perpetual hostility. The intrepidity
and military experience of the strangers were soon recognized as
commodities of great value by the rulers of such states as Capua,
Beneventum, and Salerno. From a subordinate position, their audacity
and their courage soon raised them to a political equality with their
former masters. They acquired territorial possessions, built castles,
and plundered their neighbors with equal profit and even greater
facility than did the Lombard barons, themselves descended from a
race of freebooters. They figured alternately as the allies and the
adversaries of both Greeks and Moslems, as the dictates of prudence
or the prospect of gain suggested. Before the middle of the eleventh
century they had become an important factor in the politics of the
Italian Peninsula, where their ambition caused their friendship and
their enmity to be regarded with almost equal fear and suspicion. Of
all the Norman knights who had been induced by the hope of fame and
fortune to cast their lot in Southern Italy, none ranked so high for
chivalrous grace and martial prowess as the six members of the noble
house of De Hauteville. Without resources save their weapons and their
valor, they soon attained to high distinction in those communities of
adventurers whose existence depended on the sword. They cemented their
power by matrimonial alliances with the daughters of local chieftains
of large possessions and distinguished lineage; in more than one
instance at the expense of conjugal attachments contracted years before
during the affectionate enthusiasm of youth. Their influence soon
became paramount in the councils of the Christians, as their pennons
were ever foremost in the line of battle. The youngest of these bold
champions was called Roger, a name destined to great and enduring
renown in the crusading wars of Europe and Asia.

Encouraged by the dissensions of the Moors, certain citizens of
Messina, whose vicinity to the main-land afforded its inhabitants
frequent opportunities of communication with the Italian princes,
formed the design of inviting the Normans to undertake the conquest of
the island. Their plans had hardly been unfolded to Count Roger, when
Ibn-Thimna, the fugitive Emir, sought his aid, with the fallacious hope
that the efforts of the Christians might contribute to his restoration
to the throne. The attempt was resolved upon; the assistance of Robert,
Duke of Calabria, was secured, and, in the spring of 1061, Roger,
with a small detachment of soldiers, crossed the Strait by night,
and at daybreak, through the timely assistance of the conspirators,
was introduced into the fortifications of Messina. The enterprise so
auspiciously begun was prosecuted with the most flattering prospects of
ultimate success. Robert was soon enabled to strengthen the garrison of
Messina with a considerable force; many Christian settlements revolted,
others secretly sent assurances of sympathy and co-operation; the
predatory expeditions of the adventurers returned with valuable spoil,
and, finally, a decisive victory obtained near Castrogiovanni placed
the affairs of the invaders on a substantial footing and acquainted
the Moslems with the formidable character of the enemy. The success
of the Normans was rapid and decisive. Trani was delivered up by its
inhabitants, weary of Moslem oppression and anarchy. Bari was taken
after an obstinate defence. The Saracens now experienced in their turn
the evils with which they had visited the unhappy Sicilians in the
early times of the conquest. Their harvests were swept away. Their
vineyards were uprooted. The peasant feared to venture beyond the walls
of fortified places, and was hardly secure anywhere, for in every city
Greek conspirators maintained secret and treasonable communication with
the enemy. No hamlet, however sequestered, was exempt from the rapacity
of the Norman freebooter, who pushed his incursions to the very
environs of Palermo. In 1071 the siege of that city was undertaken.
The forces of the invaders, which had received accessions from almost
every country of Europe, were sufficiently numerous to invest the
Moslem capital by land and sea. The stubborn resistance maintained by
the garrison might have disheartened the assailants had it not been for
the treachery of Christian soldiers serving under the Saracen banner.
Notice was conveyed to the besiegers that a weak point existed in a
certain part of the citadel. To divert the attention of the Moslems,
the city was assailed on the eastern side as well as from the harbor,
while the Duke, at the head of a picked body of men, scaled with little
opposition the western walls of the citadel, which had been indicated
as the vulnerable point by the traitors in the Moorish service.
Astounded by the sudden appearance of the enemy in their rear, the
Moors retired in disorder to the suburbs, and the next day surrendered
under honorable conditions which guaranteed enjoyment of their laws and
their religion.

The capture of Palermo, after a siege of only five months, reflected
great distinction on the Norman arms. Every circumstance conspired to
facilitate their triumph. Although the entire force of the besiegers
could not have exceeded ten thousand, they were all veterans, whose
courage had been tested in many a campaign and foray. The Saracen
capital had long been distracted by faction, by religious schism,
by civil war. Its population had been greatly diminished from these
causes, and even the imminent danger of conquest failed to reconcile
the partisans of the hostile sects and tribes, who cared less for the
prosperity of their country than for the maintenance of their doctrines
and the prosecution of their hereditary enmities. The most important
auxiliaries of the invaders, however, were the Christian tributaries.
Harassed by the persecution of successive usurpers, insecure in person
and property, subject to the capricious tyranny of a despotism which,
without warning, not infrequently consigned their bodies to the dungeon
and their daughters to the seraglio, these unfortunate vassals were
prepared to further any undertaking which might deliver them from the
intolerable oppression under which they groaned.

The progress of the Normans was henceforth unimpeded by organized
resistance. Trapani, Taormina, Syracuse, were carried by storm.
Castrogiovanni was surrendered by its governor, who apostatized to
the Christian faith. In 1091 the cities of Butera and Noto, the last
possessions of the Moslems in the island, were transferred by peaceful
negotiation to the Normans, who now became the masters of Sicily.
Coincident with the extensive territorial acquisitions resulting from
the conquest, the feudal system was instituted, and fiefs were bestowed
on those officers of the invading army whose services merited such
a recompense and whose fidelity could be depended upon by the lords
of the house of De Hauteville who assumed the suzerainty. The Moors,
assured of the possession of their rights, passed quietly from anarchy
and riot to the restraints and subordination of feudal dependence.
With greater facility than would have been conjectured from their
customs and antecedents, they adapted themselves to the unfamiliar
conditions by which they were surrounded. As had been the case with
the Greeks, they intermarried with their conquerors. They served with
gallantry and distinction in the Norman armies. Their mercenaries,
under the leadership of Christian nobles, were regarded with greater
dread than when, under their own commanders, they had menaced the
existence of the Papacy and the security of Rome. In many ways their
superior civilization made its influence felt in the life and habits
of the semi-barbarians of the West. The manners of the latter became
more polished, their intercourse with equals less offensively rude,
their treatment of inferiors less tyrannical and cruel. The Arab
physician, who, with the Jew, monopolized the medical learning of
his time, enjoyed the confidence and respect of the Norman princes.
The Arab statesman and financier both stood high in their favor, and
received the most substantial and flattering marks of their esteem. The
luxurious customs of the Moors--permitted by their creed but forbidden
by the strict morality of Christian discipline--commended themselves
with peculiar zest to the lax principles and unrestrained passions of
the Norman chivalry. The latter practised polygamy upon a scale fully
as extensive as that of their infidel predecessors, established harems,
and maintained troops of eunuchs. Beautiful concubines, arrayed, some
in Christian, others in Moorish garb, and attended by trains of female
slaves whose charms rivalled those of their mistresses, sauntered
daily through the delightful promenades of Syracuse and Palermo. In
vain the anathemas of the Holy See were launched against the nominal
champions of the Faith who, with Oriental sensuality and magnificence,
held their courts in the Sicilian capitals. The corruption of the
Vatican was too familiar to all who had served in the campaigns of
Italy for the denunciation of the Pope to arouse any other feelings
than those of ridicule and contempt. Even the clergy became infected
through the contagious example of their temporal rulers; the amiable
vices so reprobated by the Holy Father were scarcely concealed by the
inferior ecclesiastics, while the episcopal palaces of the larger
cities exhibited scenes more appropriate to the secret precincts of
a Moorish harem than to the homes of the most exalted dignitaries
of the Sicilian Church. During the Saracen occupation of Sicily the
country was probably more thickly populated and was certainly subject
to a more thorough system of tillage than it had been while under
the control of any other nation. It contained eighteen cities and
hundreds of towns, villages, and hamlets. In all there were more than
a thousand centres of population throughout the island, which did
not include the smaller settlements. The tireless industry of the
Moor developed to the highest degree its wonderful natural resources.
Almost every grain and fruit known to the agriculturist flourished
on the slopes of the gentle eminences which lined its coast or in
the fertile depths of the sheltered valleys. Its mountain sides were
covered with forests of chestnut, pine, and cedar, invaluable for
ship-building purposes. The papyrus, identical with the famous plant
of Egypt, and found nowhere else in Europe, grew wild in its marshes.
The level lands of the South were occupied by endless groves of palms
and oranges. Cotton, sugar-cane, and flax were cultivated with great
success. Olives constituted one of the staple crops of the country.
The culture of silk was introduced into Sicily some years before it
became known to the Moors of Spain, and extensive plantations of
mulberries were maintained for the sustenance of that useful insect
whose industry, in every country propitious to its growth, has been
forced to contribute to the luxury and vanity of man. The products of
the Sicilian wine-press were famous among the bacchanalian poets of the
court of Palermo, who had long since forgotten the prohibitory mandate
of the Prophet. The most improved methods of cultivation, tested by the
experience of ages, were adopted to aid the fertility of the soil and
the mildness of the climate. The irrigating system in use was modelled
after those of Persia and Egypt. The supply of water seems to have
been abundant and of the purest quality, but, through the ignorance of
succeeding generations, which destroyed the forests, extensive tracts,
once verdant as a garden and traversed by navigable streams, have been
changed into arid plains barren of all vegetation and seamed with dry
and rocky ravines.

The mineral resources of Sicily were of remarkable richness and
variety. Gold and silver were found in considerable quantities. There
were mines of lead, iron, quicksilver, copper, antimony. Volcanic
products, such as vitriol, sal-ammoniac, naphtha, pitch, and sulphur,
were obtained with trifling labor. The deposits of rock-salt and
alum, of inexhaustible extent and unusual purity, were of themselves
sufficient, if properly developed, to insure the prosperity of any
nation. The fine jaspers and marbles of the Sicilian quarries were
well known to the builders of antiquity, and the Moorish architects
were not slow to recognize their excellence and to employ them in the
construction of the palaces with which the Arab nobles embellished the
suburbs of the great centres of commerce and power. The sunny slopes
of the hills furnished abundant pasturage for droves of cattle and
flocks of goats and sheep. The horses of Italy were renowned for their
fleetness and symmetry. Among the pursuits of the Saracen colonists
apiculture was not neglected, and honey was exported in quantities to
Italy and other countries of Christian Europe. But meagre accounts of
the manufactures and trade of Moorish Sicily have been transmitted to
posterity. It is well known, however, that commercial relations existed
between the principal ports of the island and the maritime nations of
the Mediterranean. The merchantmen of its thriving seaports exchanged
the products of the East and West in the harbors of Malaga, Alexandria,
Constantinople. No people surpassed the Sicilians in the delicacy and
beauty of their fabrics, and the silks of Palermo, interwoven with
texts and devices in gold, were highly esteemed, and much sought after
by the luxurious potentates and nobles of the Mohammedan world.

Of all the imposing palaces, baths, and mosques which once adorned the
Moorish cities of the island, unhappily not a vestige now remains.
Nothing but a few scattered and broken inscriptions has survived the
violence of mediæval times, to attest the pomp and splendor of the
Sicilian emirs. The architecture of no other people has suffered
such complete and systematic annihilation. Two or three structures,
erected during the rule of the Norman princes, but whose proportions
and ornamentation, while remarkable, yet disclose unmistakably the
decadence of architectural skill, are all we have upon which to found
an opinion of the magnificence of Mohammedan Palermo.

It must not be forgotten that the advances of the Sicilian Moslems in
the arts of peace were made under the most discouraging circumstances.
War was the normal state of the country from the invasion by
Asad-Ibn-Forat to the surrender of the last castle to the Normans. When
the Saracens were not engaged in hostilities with the Christians, they
amused themselves by cutting each other’s throats. In every instance,
whether plundered by Greeks or persecuted by Moslems of an unfriendly
sect, the husbandman and the merchant were always the sufferers. That
agriculture and commerce could exist at all under such difficulties may
well awaken surprise; that a civilization superior to that of any state
of Christian Europe should have been developed and sustained in spite
of these obstacles is an anomaly without precedent in the history of
nations.

The administration of the laws by the dominant race was, of course,
based upon the principles of Moslem jurisprudence. It was not unusual,
however, for these laws to be either evaded or executed with a severity
never contemplated by their author. Constant familiarity with bloodshed
and habitual defiance of their authority by the populace had brutalized
the rulers of Sicily. They affected a reserve characteristic of the
worst forms of Oriental despotism. Their features were unknown to the
great body of their subjects. From motives of caution, or to enhance
the mysterious dignity investing their office, they gave audience and
dispensed justice from behind a curtain which entirely concealed
the throne. Like the most degenerate of the Persian Fatimites, they
travelled unseen in litters, attended by the effeminate ministers of
their vices. The few who attained to military distinction by active
operations in the field died of disease; a large proportion of those
who intrusted the conduct of campaigns to subordinates perished by the
hand of the assassin.

In no part of the domain of Islam was the population of a more
diversified character than in Sicily. Discord and disunion were the
inevitable results of its composition. In the face of an enemy,
the valor of its warriors was never questioned. In the excitement
of a revolution, no man was safe from the dagger of his friend.
Individuals deriving their origin from so many different countries
naturally brought with them the experience, the arts, the industry,
the accomplishments, the vices, of their respective nations. Under
a dynasty of independent and resolute princes able to repress the
outbreaks of tribal discord, Sicily would undoubtedly have risen to the
most exalted rank in the scale of civilization. As it was, with all
her serious impediments to progress, she had no rival excepting Spain
among the kingdoms of Europe. Her armies wrested from the Byzantine
Emperor one of the most valuable provinces of his dominions. Her navy
for a considerable period enjoyed the maritime superiority of both
the Adriatic and the Mediterranean. The country, in spite of civil
commotion and the consequent insecurity, was densely populated. In
938 the inhabitants of the valley of Mazara alone amounted to two
million,--half of whom were Moslems. The elegant luxury of Palermo
surpassed in taste while it equalled in splendor the barbaric pomp
of Constantinople. The domestic and social conditions prevailing in
Germany, Italy, France, and England were incomparably inferior in
all the qualities by which the advancement and happiness of nations
are promoted to those, defective as they were, by which society in
Moorish Sicily was organized and controlled. In the province of letters
the Sicilian Moslems seem to have merited distinction not inferior
to that achieved by their Andalusian brethren. A long catalogue
of authors, whose compositions, for the most part, unhappily have
perished, indicate the esteem in which literature was held, as well as
the prodigal liberality by which the efforts of its professors were
rewarded.

The influence of Sicilian civilization upon the Normans exhibits the
counterpart of that exercised by the decaying genius of Rome upon the
fierce and untutored barbarians. But the minds of the former were far
better fitted to receive the impressions imparted by association and
example than were those of the followers of Alaric and Alboin. They
were somewhat accustomed to the conveniences and the luxuries of life,
and not entirely ignorant of the amenities of social intercourse. They
had travelled far and had insensibly made comparisons between the
usages of many nations. The architectural remains of the mighty empire
of the Cæsars had awakened their admiration. They were familiar with
the defaced, but still awe-inspiring, monuments of Roman grandeur.
Tradition, embellished with a thousand enchanting legends, had brought
before them visions of the majesty and glory of the greatest powers
of the ancient world. Intimate contact with the Greek colonists of
Southern Italy, who still retained in a measure the graces and the
refinement of their ancestors, gave them well-defined ideas of the
civilization enjoyed by the original seat of literary superiority, of
architectural perfection, of artistic excellence. Thus the Normans were
ready, even eager, to receive from their Moorish vassals lessons in
those elegant pursuits whose advantages they had long appreciated, but
had never enjoyed. The Moslems, as a rule, were granted every courtesy
by their Christian neighbors, who quickly recognized their superior
intellectual acquirements. They celebrated in public, and without
molestation, the festivals of their religion. The rich freely indulged
their inclination for splendid attire and imposing retinues. They had
their own ministers of justice and of worship, their markets, mosques,
and judicial tribunals. The majority of the merchants of Palermo under
the Norman domination were Mohammedans.

Reluctant, perhaps unable, to discriminate, the invaders grew corrupt,
and the evils characteristic of a sensual and luxurious race were
insensibly adopted with the benefits which its culture afforded. After
the Norman conquest, the spirit of Moorish civilization still remained
paramount. The Saracens formed no unimportant part of the military
establishment of their conquerors, maintained both for service and
ostentation. At the siege of Amalfi, in 1096, twenty thousand of them
served under the Norman standard. In 1113, when Adelaide, mother of
Count Roger, went to Ascalon to marry Baldwin, King of Jerusalem, she
presented him with a band of Moorish archers splendidly uniformed in
scarlet and gold. The forms of government observed by the emirs were
retained. Moslem ministers and magistrates directed the administration
of the state, regulated the finances, dispensed justice. The Arabic
tongue continued to be not only the recognized medium of communication
between all classes of society, but the vehicle of public acts and
edicts, and the official idiom of the courts of law. Over the gateways
of palaces constructed by the princes of the family of De Hauteville
are still to be deciphered legends whose sentiment is unmistakably
Mohammedan. The Norman coins were stamped with sentences from the Koran
and with the date of the Hegira. The dress, the manners, the etiquette
of public audiences, the habits of private intercourse, became
essentially Oriental. The umbrella, an emblem of royalty borrowed from
the Fatimites of Egypt, was borne over the heads of the Norman kings
on occasions of ceremony. The robes of distinguished personages were
interwoven with Arabic texts, whose characters and whose significance
excited the pious horror of the orthodox. The regulation of the royal
household was modelled after that of the emirate. The very titles of
the public officials were Arabic. The education of youth was committed
without reserve to learned doctors of the Mussulman or the Hebrew
faith. In some of the harems of the Norman lords the inmates were all
Mohammedans; in those of others, Christian damsels shared the favor and
the affection of the licentious noble. No restrictions were imposed
upon the religious prejudices of either, and it is related that the
Christians, convinced by the arguments or the fascinations of their
infidel associates, not infrequently became proselytes to the doctrines
of Islam. Under the enlightened government of the Normans, persecution
was unknown. Indeed, the vanquished people were regarded with such
partiality that Count Roger absolutely forbade that any Moslem
should, even by the most gentle means, be converted to Christianity.
The clergy, unable to resist the prevailing influence, suffered
their sacred edifices to be adorned with sentences from the Koran,
whose monotheistic tendency accorded ill with the accepted maxims
of patristic theology and the infallible edicts of ecclesiastical
councils. From the balcony of the minaret and the tower of the
cathedral the voice of the muezzin or the pealing of the bell called
the pious to worship, and from the altars of every community arose in
unison the praise of Allah and the invocation of the Triune God.

The traveller Ibn-Haukal and the geographer Edrisi have left us
interesting and lively descriptions of the great Moslem cities of
Sicily under Norman rule. Of these Palermo easily took precedence,
not only on account of its being the metropolis, but by reason of
the superior wealth, intelligence, and culture of its citizens. Of
the number of its inhabitants no data have survived to enable us to
form an approximate computation. They must have amounted, however,
to several hundred thousand, as five hundred mosques were required
for the worship of the Mussulmans, and, as a rule, the Christian
population in every community equalled, if it did not exceed, that of
the sectaries of Islam. Many of these structures were superb temples,
whose costly decorations attested the liberality of the prince or the
devotion of the multitude. Some were of vast dimensions; the largest
could accommodate with ease seven thousand worshippers. The vanity
of private individuals, whose wealth permitted them to indulge their
taste for ostentation and offer an exhibition of zeal not always
above suspicion, possessed mosques of their own, from which all were
excluded save their own relatives, dependents, vassals, and slaves. But
not alone in their places of worship did the prodigal and luxurious
citizens of Palermo emulate the magnificence of their neighbors.
The palaces of the rich and the great were unsurpassed by those of
any Moslem capital excepting Cordova. The skill and delicacy of the
labor expended upon them corresponded with the rare and precious
character of the materials of which they were composed. The walls were
encased with variegated marbles, the floors were formed of mosaic,
the ceilings exhibited a labyrinth of geometric tracery relieved by
brilliant coloring and resplendent with gold. Rows of aromatic shrubs
filled the court-yards with their fragrance. The predilection of the
Arab for water--the greatest treasure of the Desert--was everywhere
manifested. Aqueducts composed of tiers of towering arches skirted
the mountains in all directions. Canals traversed the plantations and
gardens of the extensive suburbs. Fountains of classic design cooled
the air of parks and promenades or quenched the thirst of the tired
and dusty caravan. The city, from east to west, was intersected by
the market-place, a wide street paved with hewn-stone and lined with
shops filled with the most valuable commodities known to the commerce
of the age. The central or older portion of the city was the seat
of the court and the residence of the monarch. The suburbs almost
entirely surrounded it, and contained the quays, the warehouses,
the markets, the caravansaries, necessary to the traffic of a great
maritime emporium. Like Cordova, Palermo was divided into five separate
quarters, each of which was isolated from the others when the gates
were closed. The houses were of blocks of polished stone put together
with the greatest accuracy, the streets were lighted, the mansions of
commanding height and symmetrical proportions, the habitations of the
poor more commodious than the dwellings of many of the wealthy burghers
of Paris and London. In the time of Ibn-Jubair, who visited Palermo
during the reign of William the Good, the costumes and the manners of
the Christians were not distinguishable from those of their Moslem
vassals. The ladies wore veils of different colors and garments of
mingled silk and gold. Dainty slippers, embroidered in arabesques with
the precious metals, protected their tiny feet, jewelled ornaments
of exquisite patterns glittered upon their bosoms, and the aroma
of costly essences which enveloped them revealed their passionate
love of perfumes. The fusion of races was nowhere so apparent or so
remarkable as in the unrestricted intimacy maintained, and in the
refined courtesies reciprocated by the once hostile nationalities which
composed the population of the Norman capital. The amenities of social
intercourse required the practice of politeness and of self-restraint
even among enemies. In the time of William the Good cruelty and rapine
were stigmatized as Teutonic vices.

The noble and elevating pursuits of science were not neglected under
the Moors of Sicily and their intelligent and progressive conquerors,
the Norman princes. Geography, astronomy, chemistry, and medicine
were studied with diligence and success. Edrisi, whose descent from
the royal dynasty of Fez has been obscured by the eminent reputation
he attained as a geographer and a philosopher, made for Roger II.
a planisphere which represented at once the surface of the earth
and the positions of the heavenly bodies. From the minarets of
Palermo, the Arab astronomer observed the motions of the planets,
the periodical recurrence of eclipses, the relative positions and
general distribution of the stars in space, by the aid of instruments
invented on the Guadalquivir and the Tigris, and of tables computed on
the plains of Babylon centuries before the Christian era. The Moslem
thus consecrated to the prosecution of scientific research the towers
of his most sacred temples, at a time when from the cathedrals of
Europe doctrines were promulgated which menaced, with the severest
penalties that ecclesiastical malignity could devise, every occupation
which in any way contributed to the emancipation of reason or the
intellectual progress of humanity. Astrology, that delusive study
so flattering to the vanity of human nature, and so alluring to the
imagination from the preternatural power supposed to be wielded by
the charlatans who practised it, too often discredited the results of
astronomical investigation; just as the vain and costly pursuit of the
philosopher’s stone brought into disrepute at first the pre-eminently
useful science of chemistry. The Sicilians were firm believers in the
influence exerted by the heavenly bodies upon the actions and the
destiny of man. The attempt to extract the precious metals from the
most unpromising substances of nature had long engaged the attention
of the Arab, and the cities of the island swarmed with impostors who
cast horoscopes, interpreted dreams, and predicted future events by
pretended communion with the stars, while the fires in the laboratory
of the alchemist were maintained at the expense of innumerable dupes of
their own credulity, whose hopes were sustained by mystery and fraud,
while their purses were being systematically depleted. The superior
intelligence of the higher classes afforded no immunity from these
popular delusions; the noble embraced their principles with the same
confidence and the same avidity as were displayed by the plebeian and
the slave. The home of the alchemist was habitually frequented by the
highest officials of the court, and the astrologer, with his peculiar
garb, his long staff engraved with talismanic signs, his flowing beard,
and his air of mysterious assurance, was the most welcome guest in the
palaces of Palermo.

The Arabs of Sicily, with their brethren of Spain, owing to their
extraordinary and thorough proficiency in medicine and surgery, were
the most skilful practitioners in Europe. Their eminence in this
profession was, to a large extent, shared by the Jews, who, as a race,
were the recipients of royal favor and public confidence under the
Norman as well as under the Saracen domination. The peer of the Moslem
in every branch of scientific knowledge, the Hebrew brought to the
study and application of the principles of the healing art the same
keen perception and unerring tact which enabled him in all ages to rise
to the most commanding positions in the mercantile world.

In their acquaintance with the mechanical arts the Sicilians were not
inferior to their most accomplished contemporaries. Their hydraulic
system was provided with all the appliances which had been tested by
those nations whose arid soil required the artificial stimulus of
irrigation. Their mills dotted the banks of every stream whose current
afforded sufficient motive power for the propulsion of a water-wheel.
The products of their looms were famous for their exquisite patterns
and the fineness of their texture. They seemed to have also excelled
in the invention and manufacture of contrivances for the measurement
of time. A clepsydra belonging to Roger II. has been commemorated by
an inscription which would indicate that it equalled in ingenuity and
perfection the famous one presented by Harun-al-Raschid to Charlemagne.
The hours were marked off by automatons, which dropped a corresponding
number of balls into a metallic basin, a not unworthy predecessor of
the modern clock. A considerable number of the astrolabes, which,
having fortunately escaped the effects of ecclesiastical fury wreaked
upon them as magical instruments and devices of Satan, are now
preserved in the museums of Europe, are of undoubted Sicilian origin.

Abu-Layth, an architect and engineer, who had been educated in the
schools of Sicily, assisted in the completion of the great mosque of
Seville, erected during the twelfth century, and the globes of gilded
bronze which crowned the summit of the Giralda, whose extraordinary
dimensions and perfect symmetry excited the wonder of all beholders,
were cast and raised to their places under his supervision. The
superiority of the Sicilian Moslems in the construction and management
of military engines has been already referred to in these pages.

The court of Palermo for more than a century was no less distinguished
for the literary acquirements of those who, attracted by its reputation
and the character of its society, took up their abode in its precincts,
than for the scientific studies pursued with such ardor under the
patronage of its sovereigns. During the Saracen rule, translations of
those classical authors who wrote on philosophy and natural history
were made; the perusal of the works of Aristotle, for whose doctrines
the Moslems of the Middle Ages evinced such a remarkable predilection,
was one of the favorite diversions of the learned; and the poems of
Pagan Arabia were recited in the elegant idiom of the Desert, amidst
the applause of believer and infidel alike, almost within hearing
of the metropolis of Christendom. The prodigious stores of learning
accumulated by the philosophers of the Alexandrian school, through
the boundless munificence of the Greek dynasty of Egypt, enriched the
libraries and cultivated the understanding of the scholars of Sicily.
The writings of Hero, of Eratosthenes, of Euclid, and of Ptolemy were
familiar to the students in attendance upon the academies and colleges
of Palermo and Messina. The Syntaxis, the Geography, and the Optics of
the latter have survived, mainly through the instrumentality of the
Moors, the indiscriminate destructiveness of the barbarians and the
calculating malice of the clergy, to convey to subsequent generations
instructive and significant ideas of the philosophical attainments and
mathematical knowledge of one of the most accomplished scholars of
antiquity. The great work of Edrisi was compiled under the auspices
of Roger II. The Arab was peculiarly fitted for the treatment of the
comprehensive science of physical and descriptive geography. His
information had been largely obtained by practical experience. He had
served in campaigns conducted on the frontiers of civilization; in the
capacity of a merchant he had traversed with the plodding caravan vast
regions diversified with illimitable plains, lofty mountains, noble
rivers; as a pilgrim he had performed his devotions at the cradle of
the Moslem faith; in the tireless pursuit of learning he had prosecuted
his researches over strange countries and among strange peoples; his
features and his costume were familiar to the residents of the great
European and Asiatic capitals; his peregrinations had extended from
the Douro to the Indus, from the shores of the Baltic to the sources
of the Nile. Thus endowed with especial qualifications, the Arab
geographer was equally at home, whether recounting to a delighted
audience the experiences of an extended journey or explaining to an
assemblage of students the physical features of the earth and the
relative distribution of land and water as depicted on the surface of
a terrestrial globe. The work of Edrisi is an imperishable monument to
the intelligence, the industry, the criticism, of the compiler, whose
studies were confirmed in many instances by personal observation,
and the practical value of whose undertaking was established by his
scientific attainments as well as by the copious erudition of the
illustrious monarch by whose command it originated and was brought to a
successful termination.

In the exact sciences the Arabs of Sicily attained to a proficiency
unsurpassed by any nation since the glorious days of the Alexandrian
Museum, and, in fact, they appropriated and absorbed much of the
knowledge bequeathed to posterity by that immortal institution. Their
geometers applied that knowledge to the improvement of hydraulic
apparatus, to the increase in power and efficiency of military engines,
to astronomical observations which facilitated the explorations of the
navigator, to a thousand inventions which promoted the convenience
and the happiness of domestic life. The leisure of the emirs and of
the Norman princes was amused, and the literary ambition of their
accomplished courtiers excited, by the recitations of famous bards,
who, in a land which still cherished the memory of the incomparable
poetic inspiration of Greece and Rome, competed for the applause of an
audience in whose eyes ready improvisation and extravagant metaphors
were infallible tokens of the highest excellence.

Of such a character were the material civilization, the scientific
achievements, the intellectual culture of Moorish and Norman Sicily.
Its glories have long since departed. Of the hundreds of palaces and
mosques whose majestic and elegant proportions were the pride of the
Moslem cities, not one has escaped the destructive touch of plebeian
vandalism and ecclesiastical hatred. The Sicilian population, from
being one of the most cultivated, has degenerated into the most
ignorant of Catholic Europe. The suburbs of Palermo, once the abode
of every science and of every art, are now so infested with brigands
that they cannot be traversed in safety by the traveller without the
protection of an armed guard. For the medical experience and skilful
offices of the surgeon have been substituted arduous penance and the
application of suspicious, often spurious relics. Intellectual liberty
and religious toleration have been supplanted by the repression
of thought, by the discouragement of every noble impulse, by the
tyranny of a superstition which degrades the mind and enfeebles every
aspiration which can promote the material welfare of humanity.

The enterprising spirit of the Arabs which induced them to extend their
conquests to all accessible points on the Mediterranean early suggested
the occupation of the largest islands of that sea, whose importance
as naval stations whence invading armies might be transported into
Europe, and as bases for the equipment of piratical undertakings,
was fully recognized by every nation. The Balearic Isles were a
dependency of the khalifate of Cordova. They paid tribute to its
sovereigns like other provinces of the empire, furnished troops for
its armies, participated largely in its civilization, and, fortunate
in their isolation, survived for nearly two centuries its overthrow.
Sardinia, invaded by Musa in the first years of the eighth century,
was never completely subjugated by the Saracens. The mountainous and
barren interior of that island, sparsely inhabited by a barbarous
and poverty-stricken peasantry, repelled them from a conquest whose
doubtful advantages could not possibly compensate for the toil and
danger necessary to secure it, and the coast with its harbors seemed
the only territory worthy of their attention. For the space of seventy
years the Moors retained a precarious foothold on the shores of that
island, and the possession of a few insignificant seaports was disputed
by the Franks and Italians with a pertinacity not unworthy of a contest
involving the fate of an extensive kingdom.

In 722 the Saracens, having become familiar with the extensive traffic
in relics carried on by the Catholic clergy and determined to turn to
their own profit the superstitious credulity of the devout, entered
into negotiations with Liutprand, King of the Lombards, for the sale
of the body of St. Augustine, which had reposed in peace for two
hundred years in the metropolitan church of Cagliari. The transaction
was betrayed by the arrival of the messengers of Liutprand, and the
people, incited by the monks, rose in revolt. An unsuccessful attempt
was made to rescue the ashes of the saint, the Arab garrison was called
out to quell the tumult, and seven monks paid the extreme penalty of
their zeal, and perhaps not wholly disinterested piety. In view of the
precious character of these mementos and of the difficulties attending
their transfer, the Arabs exacted, in addition to the price already
agreed upon, the payment of three pounds of gold and twelve of silver;
an amount which indicates the immense value of the original ransom. The
grief of the devout inhabitants of Cagliari on account of their loss
was somewhat alleviated by the remembrance that the vestments which had
been torn from the bones of the saint in the struggle still remained
in their hands, and the innumerable miracles wrought by these tattered
garments, confirmed by the highest ecclesiastical authority, long
attested the celestial influence and supernatural virtues possessed by
the sacred relics of the deceased Bishop of Hippo.

Crete, captured by refugees from Spain, who, exiled from that country
for treason during the reign of Al-Hakem I., were subsequently driven
from Alexandria by the infuriated populace, whose hospitality they
had abused, remained in the hands of the Moslems until 961, when it
was reconquered by the Greeks. The Spanish Arabs about the year 806
descended upon the coast of Corsica. The timely aid of King Pepin
prevented the immediate loss of that island, which, however, was
occupied by the Saracens in 810. The despairing Corsicans, who had
betaken themselves to the mountain solitudes, solicited the aid of
Charlemagne, who sent a powerful fleet to their relief. The Moslems,
after a series of sanguinary engagements, were absolutely exterminated
by the ferocious warriors of the West; but the unfortunate Corsicans
fared little better than their enemies, for it is stated by respectable
authority that nine-tenths of the population perished within less than
three years from the effects of the Saracen invasion. The shores of
the island are still covered with ruins of extensive towns and cities
dating from that period, indicating the former prosperity of the
inhabitants, as well as the frightful calamities which they must have
endured at the hands of the truculent adventurers of Spain and Africa.

Malta, acknowledged in the Middle Ages, as now, to be the key of
the Eastern Mediterranean, was for two hundred and twenty years an
important dependency of the Sicilian Emirate. Taken by the Moslems
in 870, it was occupied by the Norman troops, led by Count Roger in
person, in 1090. The subjects of the Greek Emperor were put to death or
enslaved, but for the native Maltese the Arabs manifested an unusual
partiality. Their lot was far more tolerable than that of the tributary
Christians of Sicily, their religion was unmolested, their taxes were
moderate, the privileges conceded to them more favorable than those
ordinarily accorded to infidels. The inhabitants of all these islands,
except Sicily, which made war upon an extensive scale, subsisted by
piratical depredations and by trade in slaves, in which reprehensible
practices the Moors of Malta early obtained an undisputed and infamous
pre-eminence.

In this chapter has been traced an incomplete outline of the origin,
progress, and decline of the Moslem domination in Sicily, a subject
which, if elaborated, would embrace many volumes. From this imperfect
sketch, however, the reader may form an idea of a civilization
centuries in advance of that of any contemporaneous people, with the
single exception of the Spanish Arabs; a civilization which, fostered
and perpetuated under the brilliant reign of the Emperor Frederick
II., effected such a memorable revolution in the ideas and opinions
entertained as indisputably correct by the devout and the credulous of
many preceding ages.

CHAPTER XVI

THE PRINCIPALITIES OF MOORISH SPAIN

1012–1044

Immobility of the African Race--Its Hostility to
Civilization--Its Pernicious Influence on the
Politics of the Western Khalifate--Character of
Suleyman--Invasion of Ali--He ascends the Throne--His
Tyranny--He is assassinated--Abd-al-Rahman IV. succeeds
Him--Yahya--Abd-al-Rahman V.--Mohammed--Hischem
III.--Organization of the Council of State--Ibn-Djahwar, the
Minister--His Talents and Power--Abul-Kasim-Mohammed, Kadi of
Seville--Berber Conspiracy--The Impostor Khalaf is raised to the
Throne as Hischem II.--Almeria--The Vizier Ibn-Abbas--Influence
of the Jews at Granada--The Rabbi Samuel--Rivalry of Granada
and Almeria--Abu-al-Fotuh--Motadhid ascends the Throne of
Seville--His Cruel and Dissolute Character--His Collection
of Skulls--Badis, King of Granada---Increasing Power of
Castile--Valencia and Malaga--Atrocities of the Christians at
Barbastro.

From the earliest period mentioned in history, as has been remarked
in a previous chapter, the spirit of the various tribes inhabiting
the great continent of Africa has been constantly hostile to human
progress. The ignorance, cruelty, and depravity of those nations whose
territory did not touch the shores of the Mediterranean have always
seemed impregnable to the beneficent and ordinarily irresistible
influences of civilization. It is true that the northern extremity of
that continent has been the seat of powerful empires, of great cities,
of rich and enterprising centres of commercial activity. But this
superior culture, confined to a narrow strip whose southern boundary
was only a few days’ journey from the coast, was without exception
exotic. The origin of the Egyptians, lost in the depths of a remote
and unknown antiquity, has never been conclusively established. But it
is almost certain that it was not African. The ethnical peculiarities
which formerly distinguished, and are still noticeable in, the
inhabitants of the Valley of the Nile had nothing in common with the
physical and mental characteristics of surrounding nations. The rigid
seclusion that, as a principle of national policy, prevailed in ancient
Egypt from time immemorial sufficiently precludes the existence of
extraneous influence. Subsequently, under the enlightened empire of the
Ptolemies, while the form of government and the religious ceremonial
of ancient times were preserved, the traditions of the schools and the
social atmosphere which surrounded the splendid court of Alexandria
were entirely Grecian. Carthage was a Phœnician colony. The instincts
of its citizens, their energy, their duplicity, their luxury, their
vices, their political organization, their maritime enterprise, their
architecture, and their gods were Tyrian, and consequently Asiatic.
The prosperity enjoyed by the Latin colonies established after the
Punic Wars, when the countries situated on the southern shores of the
Mediterranean shared with Egypt the burden of providing sustenance for
the slothful and turbulent populace of Italy, was due to the example,
the policy, the institutions of Rome. The empire of the Edrisites,
the magnificence of Fez and Kairoan, the wonderful cultivation of the
Desert, the subjugation and control of the fierce tribesmen of the
Atlas, were the work of princes of Arab blood. In all these glories of
commerce, art, and opulence the Africans had no share. They served in
the armies of the conqueror, but without loyalty, honor, or gratitude.
Their insubordination wrought far greater injury to the cause of good
government than their efforts promoted its advancement. They zealously
preserved their malign and destructive instincts in the midst of
the most refined and intellectual society of the age. Incapable of
profiting by the civilization by which they were surrounded, their
only aim seemed to be the obliteration of those evidences of mental
superiority which they could neither appreciate nor enjoy. Nor have the
benevolent and humanizing influences of the nineteenth century been
able to remove the incorrigible barbarism of the African. The tribes
of the Sahara are no further advanced in the arts of peace than when
they yielded a sullen and reluctant obedience to the military genius
of Musa. The lives of well-meaning sentimentalists have been vainly
sacrificed to ameliorate the debased condition of the Negro. Even with
the example of the most polished nations of modern times before him,
the advantages of education, rare opportunities for the accumulation
of wealth, intimacy with the learned, participation in government,
social privileges--all these blessings have served only to confirm
and emphasize the inherent and irredeemable stupidity, malice, and
bestiality of his nature,--characteristics transmitted by a savage,
perhaps by a simian ancestry. Association with the Romans--degenerate
as they had become since the glorious days of the Republic and the
Empire--aroused in the minds of the Goth and the Vandal aspirations
to, at least in some degree, imitate that excellence which made their
own deficiencies the more conspicuous. They gradually discarded
their savage customs. They adopted the salutary institutions of the
vanquished. They emulated--often with little success, but with the
most praiseworthy intentions--the heroic virtues of antiquity. By this
means the immortal genius of Roman civilization in a measure survived,
to exert its refining power upon subsequent ages. Not so, however,
with the African. His proximity to and intercourse with the highly
cultured nations of Europe produced no improvement in his domestic
life, no stimulation of his intellectual faculties, no mitigation of
his brutal and ferocious nature. He was the principal means by which
the Ommeyade empire was both founded and annihilated. His native
rudeness and repugnance to discipline were manifested even before the
termination of the Conquest. From the hordes of the Atlas and the
Sahara were recruited the ruthless soldiery by whom the disturbances
that distracted the emirate were perpetuated. They formed an important
but treacherous contingent of the armies of the khalifate. While
nominally adherents of the Mohammedan faith, they continued to observe
those idolatrous ceremonies which had provoked the maledictions of
the Prophet. Obedience to the sovereign was always subordinated to
reverence for the chieftain. They maintained under the most adverse
circumstances the primitive traditions of their race. Their camp
was the daily scene of savage rites, of the practice of divination,
witchcraft, sorcery, and magic. In their civil organization, the
patriarchal simplicity of the Desert prevailed, their military
evolutions were the clamorous and irregular demonstrations of brave
but undisciplined barbarians. Their overpowering impulse was that of
indiscriminating destruction. They viewed with stolid indifference the
incomparable monuments of Saracen culture. The most exquisite works
of art, in whose fabrication was exhausted the skill of the goldsmith
and the enameler, were broken and melted for the sake of the precious
metals they contained. The Berber was the very embodiment of cruelty,
perfidy, disorganization, and ruin. In comparison with his boundless
capacity for mischief, all the destructive agencies exerted by the
hostile races composing the population of the Western Khalifate were
insignificant. The inexhaustible numbers of the tribes of Numidia
and Mauritania, whence were drawn alike the instruments of regal
tyranny and of servile revolution, their prowess, their indomitable
ferocity, their impetuous ardor, the persistence of their Pagan ideas
and their social customs, rendered them most formidable impediments
of civilization. To the incessant immigration from Africa, to the
enrolment of Berber mercenaries in the armies of Mohammedan Spain,
to the impolitic appeals for aid to the semi-barbarian princes of
Al-Maghreb, are to be attributed far more than to the rivalry of Arab
tribes or to the inherent defects of the Moslem constitution--serious
as these undoubtedly were--the succession of disasters which overtook
the empire of the Ommeyades, and the unspeakable crimes which stain the
Moorish annals of the eleventh century, whose deplorable consequences
were felt to the remotest corners of the Peninsula.

I have been led to the consideration of the topic discussed in the
preceding pages by reason of the prominent part assumed by the
African tribes during the closing years of the Moslem domination in
Spain. While an apparent digression, it is in fact inseparable from
a complete account of the events transpiring in the dominions once
embraced by the khalifate of Cordova. The relations of Africa and
Mussulman Europe had long been intimate. The jealousies of ambition
and sovereignty had, except in infrequent and isolated cases, been
subordinated to the offices of mutual kindness and friendship. No
serious acts of hostility had as yet been permitted to interrupt the
cordial intercourse which--facilitated by the short distance separating
the two continents--existed between nations acknowledging, at least in
form, the same religion and governed by similar laws. Wealthy traders
maintained commercial establishments at the same time in Almeria
and Kairoan. The sons of sheiks of the Desert rose to high commands
under the famous princes of the House of Ommeyah. The negro slaves
of the Soudan were repeatedly chosen to guard the sacred person of
the monarch. The erudition of the philosophers of Cordova had been
exhibited to the astonishment, if not to the approbation, of the
fanatical sectaries of Fez. Powerful princes of Mauritania had more
than once rendered homage and paid tribute to the rulers of the mighty
Khalifate of the West. They had submitted with a feeling of pride to
the supremacy of one of the most renowned of those rulers, for they
remembered that he was popularly reputed to be of the same origin and
of kindred blood. During the administration of Al-Mansur, no African
prince would have cherished the apparently chimerical hope that his
dynasty was destined to influence, in a decisive way, the future of
the Peninsula. The death of that great commander, who left no worthy
successor, encouraged the aspirations of every ambitious chieftain
to plunge the country into anarchy, a condition from which he might
possibly emerge with the lion’s share of power and plunder. In less
than forty years the Berbers obtained control of the most valuable
portion of the rich inheritance of the Moslems of Spain; in less than
a century and a half the magnificent empire of the Ommeyades, whose
civilization had been the marvel of the age, its cities sacked and
demolished, its fertile fields laid waste, its commerce annihilated,
its industrious and thriving population massacred or condemned to
painful servitude, had descended, from the exalted rank of a monarchy
whose name was mentioned with respect and fear by the most distant and
inaccessible nations, to the humiliating position of a dependency of
the barbarous and illiterate sultans of Africa.

The jurisdiction of the self-designated Khalif Suleyman, who, as
the head of the Berber faction, had acquired an appearance of regal
authority by a frightful expenditure of blood, was confined to a
circumscribed extent of territory including only five populous cities,
of which Cordova, whose possession implied the prestige and power of
an imperial title, was, of course, the most important. At the first
appearance of national discord consequent on the dismemberment of
the khalifate, the military commanders who occupied the strongest
fortresses proclaimed their neutrality or independence. The Eastern
provinces of the Peninsula, whose territory had hitherto escaped the
calamities which had so seriously afflicted the less fortunate regions
of the West, preserved, by the freedom of their ports, the enterprise
of their merchants, and the unmolested industry of their laborers,
a prosperity of diminished extent and uncertain duration, but one
which contrasted vividly with the miserable condition of the once
flourishing centres of trade and agriculture, in happier days the pride
of beautiful Andalusia. Here the Slave officers appointed under the
nominal authority of the royal puppet, Hischem II., held their courts
and displayed on a limited theatre all the luxurious magnificence and
tyrannical caprices of Asiatic despotism. In the North, where the
adherents of the Amirides abounded, the Berber princes of Saragossa and
Toledo maintained an appearance of barbaric pomp and martial rivalry.
From the latter, who, like the Slaves, had asserted their independence,
Suleyman, although his troops were allied to their subjects by the
closest bonds of nationality and relationship, could expect no support.
He was therefore compelled to rely entirely upon his army, composed
of soldiers of fortune, whose fidelity was wholly dependent on the
willingness of their general to indulge their mutinous instincts and
their love of rapine. Of these mercenaries, who, half Pagan and half
Christian, served with singular inconsistency under the standard of
a Moslem prince against sectaries of his own religion, the bitter
enemies of both, the Berbers were the controlling element. They were
regarded by the mass of the population of Moorish Spain, and especially
by the Arabs of noble blood, with peculiar execration. The fact that
under the very shadow of the noble mosques of the Andalusian capital
they habitually practised heathen rites denounced by the Koran and
abhorred by every Mussulman was notorious. The rich and flexible idiom
of the Peninsula, the pride of the Arab, the language spoken by the
Prophet, the medium by which the learning of the scholars of the Moslem
world had been communicated and preserved, was wholly unknown to them.
Their uncouth manners and insolent bearing excited the disgust of a
people proverbial for their native refinement and dignified courtesy.
Every city, every hamlet, every plantation, bore ineffaceable marks of
the blind ferocity of these detested foreigners. They had sacked the
splendid metropolis of the West. They had transformed the unrivalled
palace and suburb of Medina-al-Zahrâ into a heap of blackened ruins.
Their violence had made of the most fertile portions of Andalusia
an uninhabited and gloomy solitude. The towns swarmed with Berber
robbers, who pursued their nefarious calling almost without hinderance;
the country was unsafe on account of the organized bands of Berber
outlaws that infested the highways. Crime of every description enjoyed
immunity through the corrupt partnership of its perpetrators with the
authorities, who greedily shared their booty. The confiscated spoils
of noble families that traced their ancestry to the Companions of
the Prophet were flaunted with the shameless impudence of legalized
brigandage and irresponsible power in the faces of their former owners
now reduced to penury. The beautiful wives and daughters of the Arab
aristocracy were dragged from their homes to pine in the harems of
brutal and half-savage Berber chieftains. The African prejudice
against learning had caused the extermination of the philosophers of
Cordova,--a deed whose atrocity was aggravated by the fact that the
victims were non-combatants, a class protected by the soldiery of every
generous and self-respecting nation. Not without cause did the poet
lament that the wrath of Allah had unchained a legion of demons to
afflict with unspeakable misery the imperial cities adorned with the
triumphs of the august line of the Ommeyades.

The sovereign of these oppressors, through the circumstances of
his position, had become a cruel tyrant. By nature he was inclined
to peace. When untrammelled by the baneful associations which had
corrupted his mind, and through whose influence he had risen to power,
he exhibited the disposition of a generous and enlightened ruler. He
strictly observed the principles of humanity and justice. His decisions
as a magistrate were characterized by a spirit of impartial equity.
His temper was mild. He was a friend of letters, and disclosed in the
poetic efforts attributed to him ability of no mean order. His greatest
delight was in the familiar conversation of scholars, whose talents
he appreciated and whose tastes he encouraged. He availed himself of
every resource at his command to restore tranquillity and confidence
in the communities terrorized by the excesses of his followers. It was
only when the interests of the latter were directly involved that he
remembered the instruments of his greatness, and sanctioned crimes that
have left an indelible blot upon his name.

In spite of the pretensions of Suleyman and his occupation of the
throne of the khalifs, the khotba, or public prayer, for Hischem
II., whose death had not been established to the satisfaction of
the people, was still, despite the entreaties and the protests of
the usurper, recited in the Andalusian mosques. The corpse of the
last of the Ommeyades had never been exhibited to the populace for
identification. The presumption of his survival was in a measure
confirmed by the strict seclusion in which he had passed his life. A
generation of tutelage and imbecility had not entirely destroyed the
prestige of that dynasty whose heroic achievements had reflected such
lustre on the Moslem name. Pretenders to the supreme power, concealing
their ambition under the specious pretext of liberating an imprisoned
sovereign and avenging his wrongs, arose throughout the cities of the
South. The ablest and most powerful of these was Khairan, governor of
Almeria, an official who had stood high in the favor of Al-Mansur.
Even in Africa the aspirations of enterprising generals were excited
by the alluring prospect of a vacant throne, a prize which in the
lottery of war might readily fall to a bold and fortunate soldier. The
excellent qualities of Suleyman did not compensate in the eyes of the
multitude for the unpopular methods by which he had risen to power.
A leader was soon found who was disposed to profit by the universal
discontent. Ali-Ibn-Hamud, at that time governor of Ceuta, had been
one of the ablest officers in the armies of Al-Mansur and had served
with distinction under that commander. He traced his genealogy to
the family of Mohammed. His ancestors, long domiciled in Mauritania,
were, however, regarded by the Berbers as of common nationality with
themselves. His instincts and associations led him to identify himself
with their cause, although he claimed descent from the son-in-law of
the Prophet. An understanding was established by the emissaries of
their countrymen between the ambitious general and certain conspirators
in Spain. Gifted with the astuteness of his race, he easily deceived
the superstitious Khairan with a false account of an interview with
Hischem, during which he alleged that the latter had appointed him his
successor, proclaimed himself the champion of the persecuted Khalif,
and, enlisting the sympathies of the innumerable malcontents who viewed
with favor any plan promising the overthrow of Suleyman, soon found
himself at the head of a formidable revolution.

Ali had hardly landed in Andalusia, before Amir-Ibn-Fotuh, governor
of Malaga, whose attachment to the family of the dethroned Khalif
had been recently strengthened by the appropriation of a part of his
dominions by the Berbers, surrendered that important fortress, and,
Ali having formed a junction with Khairan at Almuñecar, the allied
army pressed forward without delay to attack the capital. Zawi, the
governor of Granada, whose authority and resources equalled those of
Suleyman himself, as soon as intelligence of the invasion reached him,
announced his adherence to the cause of the insurgents. The times
had never been more auspicious for the enterprise of a pretender.
By the populace, too often disposed to hold the leader responsible
for the delinquencies of his faction, Suleyman was regarded as a
fiend incarnate. The soldiers despised him because they mistook his
disposition to lenity for an indication of cowardice. The supporters of
the ancient dynasty and the dependents of the Amirides, who attributed
to his agency the persecution of which they had been the victims, never
mentioned his name without a curse. The palace and the Divan were as
usual on such occasions centres of intrigue. The army swarmed with
traitors. In Cordova itself the mob, which had enjoyed for centuries
an unenviable reputation for inconstancy and turbulence, awaited with
impatience the signal for revolt. The consequences of this political
condition soon became evident. The detachments sent by Suleyman to
check the insurgents were one after another put to flight. When the
Prince himself appeared in the camp to take command in person, he
was seized by his own troops and sent in chains to the enemy. A few
days afterwards the wretched Suleyman received at the hands of the
executioner, after the infliction of every insult, the last penalty
of disaster and incapacity,--the usual fate of captive monarchs in
that barbarous age. In spite of the diligent search instituted by the
victorious generals, the missing Hischem could not be found, and,
as previously related, although Suleyman had insisted that he was
dead, the corpse exhumed as his and subjected to a superficial and
insufficient identification was not accepted as genuine by those not
interested in supporting a fraud, and the fate of the unfortunate son
of Al-Hakem remains to this day an impenetrable mystery.

In compliance with an agreement in which he had taken advantage of the
credulity of Khairan, Ali now assumed the royal insignia and authority,
with the title of Al-Nassir-al-Din-Allah, and another usurper was
invested with the uncertain and perilous dignity of nominal ruler of
the dismembered khalifate.

Contrary to the expectations of his opponents, and to the infinite
disgust of his partisans, who had counted upon indulgence in unbridled
license, the beginning of the reign of Ali was marked by a display of
moderation and justice for many years unknown to the unhappy people
of Andalusia. Before his tribunal the distinctions of faction were no
longer recognized, and the Spaniard, without regard to his political
relations, received equal consideration with the African. The bandit
propensities of the Berbers were mercilessly repressed. The fact that
Ali had been reared among them, was connected with their race by ties
of consanguinity, was familiar with no other tongue but theirs, and had
been raised to the throne through their influence, afforded no security
to the Berber malefactor. The slightest act of rapine was punished
with instant death. An incident is related by the Arab historians
which conveys a significant idea of this summary administration of
justice. As the Khalif was once passing through a gate of the capital,
he encountered a mounted Berber with a quantity of grapes on the
saddle before him. The royal cavalcade was instantly halted, and the
Prince demanded of the horseman: “Whence hast thou obtained those
grapes?” “I seized them like a soldier,” was the insolent reply. At
a signal from Ali, the culprit was at once dragged to the roadside
and decapitated. His head was then fastened upon the grapes, and the
horse, with its ghastly burden, preceded by a crier, was led through
the principal streets of the city as an example of the fate to be
expected by all whose lawless inclinations, confirmed by former
impunity, tempted them to violate the rights of person and property.
In the forms of legal procedure the new ruler discarded the habits of
seclusion and mystery affected by the later Ommeyades, and returned to
the ancient and patriarchal simplicity which had characterized from
time immemorial the unceremonious judicial tribunals of the Orient. On
certain appointed days, attended by a slender retinue and with scarcely
any tokens of his exalted rank, he sat at the gate of the palace to
receive the complaints and redress the grievances of his subjects.
At the bar of this court no offender could hope for immunity through
pride of lineage, amount of wealth, or important tribal affiliations.
Justice was meted out equally to all. The executioner was constantly
in attendance, and infliction of the penalty, whether by scourging,
imprisonment, or death, followed closely upon the sentence. As the
Berbers constituted the majority of the delinquents, they soon began
to denounce their sovereign as a political apostate and an enemy of
his race. This exhibition of judicial severity was followed by the
most satisfactory results. The irresponsible infliction of unusual
punishments was replaced by the regular process of law. The Berbers
submitted sullenly but completely to the disagreeable but wholesome
restraints of discipline. The citizen and the peasant could now,
without serious molestation, pursue their ordinary employments. The
streets became safe for pedestrians. The highways were purged of
banditti. Commerce began to revive. The partiality of Ali for the
Andalusians, who, as the more peaceable class of the population, were
seldom arraigned before the magistrate to answer for violation of the
laws, became daily more marked. Indeed, he had formed the commendable
design of depriving his Berber subjects of the property they had
acquired by the pillage of their neighbors, and of restoring to the
latter the estates which had been confiscated without other warrant of
authority than that conveyed by force during the lawless period which
had followed the death of Al-Mansur. This plan was frustrated by the
habitual inconstancy and ingratitude of the people, fomented by the
discontent of a military leader, whose exaggerated estimate of his own
abilities was in a direct proportion to his inordinate ambition.

For nearly two years Ali governed the states of his contracted
kingdom with exemplary firmness and wisdom. But, while reluctantly
acknowledging the benefits they enjoyed, the partisans of the House
of Ommeyah could never forget the foreign origin and barbarian
antecedents of the determined prince who had avenged their wrongs
and tamed the ferocity of their savage oppressors. As for the
Africans, they detested the ruler who owed his rank to their courage
and treachery, and who repaid their devotion with a contumely and
an impartial disregard of their claims which they did not hesitate
to denounce as the most flagrant ingratitude. Thus the inflexible
justice of Ali alienated his partisans, while the national prejudice
against his race operated to his disadvantage in every other quarter.
Aware of this feeling, Khairan, who felt aggrieved because he was not
intrusted with a larger share in the government he had contributed to
establish, organized a conspiracy to restore the Ommeyades to power.
Al-Morthada, a great-grandson of Abd-al-Rahman III., was selected as
the representative of the malcontents under the title of Abd-al-Rahman
IV. The prestige investing the name of the illustrious family of
the pretender, the hope of vengeance upon the Berbers, the prospect
of revolution, so attractive to the Andalusian mind, brought many
followers to his standard. Valencia declared for him. The governor of
Saragossa espoused his cause and marched southward with a force of
several thousand men. The services of Raymond, Count of Barcelona, were
secured, and he appeared in the rebel camp at the head of a squadron
of Christian knights sheathed in complete armor. The popularity of the
enterprise enlisted the sympathy of the peasantry, always prone to
insurrection. In Cordova the presence of the soldiery alone prevented
an outbreak, and it was problematical for how long a time the garrison
would be able to overawe the populace, even if their own fidelity
remained unshaken. Indignant that his efforts for the restoration
and maintenance of public order should meet with such a recompense,
Ali renounced the statesmanlike policy he had hitherto pursued. The
Berbers again reigned supreme in the capital. Once more the streets
rang with the tumultuous din of outrage and riot, with the groans of
murdered men, with the shrieks of violated women. The tribunals, which
for many months had dispensed justice with rigid impartiality, now
refused to entertain a complaint against the military tyrants whose
passions, exasperated by restraint, raged with redoubled violence.
An army of informers was maintained by the government, and eminent
citizens were daily consigned to dungeons on the false testimony of
the vilest of mankind. This spirit of espionage was so general that
it is remarked by a writer, who himself witnessed these scenes, that
“one-half of the inhabitants was constantly employed in watching
the other half.” The possession of wealth was of itself a powerful
incentive to an accusation of treason. A convenient and effective
method of replenishing the treasury was devised by causing the arrest
of the rich upon fabricated evidence and then restoring them to liberty
after payment of an exorbitant ransom. When the friends of the victims
came to escort them to their homes, their horses were seized and they
were forced to return on foot. It was not unusual for the houses of the
nobles to be robbed in open day by the African guards of the Khalif.
The few remaining palaces erected by the Ommeyades were destroyed;
the known adherents of that faction were persecuted with unrelenting
severity, and every conceivable insult was visited upon those whose
prejudices against the party in power were assumed to exist by reason
of their literary tastes or their superior erudition. The mosques,
which heretofore, either from superstitious fear or from motives of
policy, had been exempt from forced contributions, were now subjected
to the most vexatious extortion. Their ornaments were carried away.
Their revenues were confiscated. The ministers of religion were taxed.
Many of the finest temples of the capital were deserted or became the
haunts of nocturnal marauders. Even the devout dared not assemble for
the worship of God. The consciousness of the perfidious ingratitude
displayed by his subjects so embittered the temper of the Khalif that
he resolved upon the most extreme measures, and publicly announced
his intention of razing to its foundation the city of Cordova. The
accomplishment of this malignant design, which, in destroying the most
splendid architectural monument of Moslem genius, would at the same
time have inflicted an irreparable injury upon art and archæology,
was fortunately frustrated by the assassination of the tyrant. Three
of his most trusted slaves, animated by a desire to liberate their
country from the evils from which it suffered, and, so far as can be
determined, without the co-operation of others, killed Ali in the bath
on the very day he was about to take the field against the enemy.

The murder of the usurper was far from producing the effect desired and
expected by the revolutionists, who everywhere hailed it with the most
extravagant demonstrations of rejoicing. The dreaded Africans still
overawed the populace of the capital. The emissaries of Al-Morthada
were unable to arouse the mob, in whose mind was still fresh the
remembrance of the merciless vengeance of these barbarians. A council
of chieftains was assembled, and the crown was offered to Kasim,
the brother of Ali, at that time governor of Seville, who, a trusty
lieutenant of Al-Mansur, had served with gallantry in many campaigns
against the Christians.

While these events were taking place the cause of the Ommeyade party
was declining. Its head, who had been proclaimed khalif under the name
of Abd-al-Rahman IV., manifested too independent a spirit to please
those who had expected to retain him in perpetual subjection. After
the factitious enthusiasm of revolution had subsided, the ranks of the
insurgents began to be seriously depleted by desertions. Recruits could
not be enlisted for an enterprise which now offered the unattractive
prospect of much fighting and privation and but little plunder. The
governors of important towns held aloof, or withdrew from an alliance
which they had never heartily indorsed. Even the ardor of the leaders
was visibly cooled. Khairan himself, whose treasonable propensities
were incorrigible, now agreed with Zawi, governor of Granada,--before
which city the revolutionary army was encamped,--to abandon the
Ommeyade pretender during the first engagement. The perfidious compact
was fulfilled to the letter. The traitors deserted in the heat of
battle, the faithful adherents of Al-Morthada were overpowered and
cut off to a man, and that unfortunate prince, having escaped with
difficulty from the field, was followed and put to death by the
horsemen of Khairan.

With the death of Ali had disappeared the last impediment to the
undisputed ascendency of the Berber faction. The people of Cordova,
who had taken no active part in the recent disturbances, submitted
with scarcely a murmur to the government of a sovereign who, though
trained in camps, evinced little inclination for scenes of bloodshed.
The persecution of Ali had effectually broken the spirit of the
Andalusian nobility. The wealthy were impoverished. The philosophers,
the theologians, the faquis,--whose hypocrisy served as a convenient
cloak for their ambition,--had been either exterminated or driven
into exile. Thus, the elements of successful resistance having been
paralyzed or entirely eliminated, a rare opportunity was afforded for
the restoration of order and prosperity. In the very first dispositions
of his reign, Kasim displayed a tact and a magnanimity which would
have done credit to the most enlightened monarch. He suppressed the
violence which had hitherto been tolerated, if not sanctioned, by
representatives of the law. He granted an amnesty to the vanquished.
The treason of Khairan was pardoned. Eminent supporters of the ancient
dynasty were raised to important and responsible commands. Strenuous
efforts were made to heal the wounds caused by generations of civil war
and to reconcile, at least in appearance, the political dissensions
prevailing even among individuals of the same family, and which
constantly distracted the peace of every community. This patriotic and
conservative policy of Kasim had hardly commenced to restore public
confidence, when a measure, adopted for his own security, once more
awakened the animosity of the implacable enemies of civilization and
order. Long familiarity with the inconstant attachments and treacherous
character of the Berbers had rendered the Khalif unwilling to entrust
his person to their keeping. They were therefore gradually removed from
the palace and their places supplied by negro slaves purchased in the
markets of Africa, whose habits of obedience were presumed to afford a
better warrant for their fidelity than the offensive pretensions and
proud independence of the desert tribes, confirmed for years by legal
impunity and successful revolution. The disgrace of the royal guard was
considered an unpardonable affront by every individual of the Berber
nation. A plot was formed to bestow the khalifate on Yahya, a son of
Ali, whose absence in Africa had alone prevented his succession to his
father, and who responded with alacrity to the overtures of the Berber
chieftains. Landing at Malaga, which city was under the jurisdiction of
his brother Edris, and welcomed with the acclamations of the people,
he occupied Cordova without encountering the slightest resistance.
Kasim, having received intimations of the intended defection of his
followers, left the capital at night, and, attended by five slaves on
whom he could rely, withdrew to Seville. The pre-eminent unfitness of
Yahya for his exalted position soon became apparent. He alienated the
Berbers by refusing to restore the ancient privileges of plunder and
extortion to which they considered themselves entitled by the right
of conquest. Proud of his descent from the family of the Prophet, he
constantly maintained a haughty demeanor towards the nobility, and
disdained all intercourse with the people, whom he affected to regard
as slaves. Notwithstanding this offensive assumption of superiority, he
chose for his intimate associates men without standing or character,
whose principal recommendation was their indulgence of his whims
and their subserviency to his vices. The eminent qualifications
for government derived from intellectual acquirements and military
experience received no consideration at the hands of this vain and
ignorant successor of the khalifs. Discontent soon spread throughout
the court and the city. The Berbers importunately demanded a division
of the public treasure. The slave-guards of Kasim, apprehensive for
their safety, sought the presence and the forgiveness of their former
monarch at Seville. Officers, who had signalized their abilities in
the councils and the campaigns of a generation, abandoned with disgust
the cares of government to the incompetent and low-born sycophants who
swarmed around the throne. In no mosque of Andalusia was the khotba
repeated in the name of Yahya; that expressive mark of sovereignty was
still enjoyed by Kasim, or by some representative of the uncertain and
fast-vanishing dignity of the royal race of the Ommeyades.

Thus restricted to the walls of Cordova, whose population regarded
his conduct with unconcealed disfavor, Yahya soon began to appreciate
the threatening character of the perils that environed him. Convinced
of his inability to defend himself in case of attack, he retired to
Malaga, accompanied by a retinue little superior in numbers to that
with which his uncle had abandoned his capital but a few months before.

The return of Kasim was the signal for fresh conspiracies and renewed
disorder. In the conflict of interests the two factions which had
accomplished his expulsion were again arrayed against him, and the
force of negro slaves, whose duplicity had so signally disappointed
his expectations, constituted the sole and precarious bulwark of the
throne. A report, perhaps well founded, gained credence in Cordova
that another descendant of Abd-al-Rahman would soon lay claim to his
hereditary and usurped prerogatives. When the rumor of this movement
reached the court, Kasim adopted the most radical measures for the
prevention of a new revolution. An indiscriminate proscription was
inaugurated against the Ommeyades. The uncertainty of the candidate for
regal honors, whose pretensions were to be exhibited for the approval
of the people, stimulated the animosity and increased the vigilance
of the authorities. The members of the proscribed dynasty fled
precipitately from the capital. Of those arrested, many were summarily
executed. Others were cast into filthy dungeons to perish slowly by
disease and hunger. Princes bred in luxury were compelled to assume
the most humble disguises and to adopt the most menial occupations
to avoid arrest. The indefatigable search of the emissaries of the
Khalif, aided by the venal malice of informers, caused the seizure
of a considerable number of the obnoxious faction, who had found a
temporary asylum in the villages and farm-houses of the surrounding
country. These rigorous precautions failed, however, to intimidate the
seditious and exasperated populace. An insurrection suddenly broke out.
Oppressed by the tyranny of the government and the increasing license
of the soldiery, the citizens, animated by irresistible fury, drove the
Khalif, the negro slaves, and the Berbers headlong from the city. The
capital was now invested by those who had recently been its masters.
Though unprovided with facilities indispensable to the successful
maintenance of a siege, they more than once managed to force their way
inside the fortifications. The citizens, aware that no quarter was to
be expected from their infuriated enemies, defended themselves with
the valor of desperation. The gates were walled up with masonry. The
ramparts were guarded with ceaseless vigilance. Women and children
contributed their puny but encouraging assistance to the almost
superhuman efforts of their husbands and fathers. Hunger, exposure,
suffering, were endured by all with uncomplaining fortitude. At length
the failure of provisions necessitated a compromise. Overtures were
made by the besieged for a peaceful evacuation. The Berbers, certain
of their prey and meditating a bloody revenge, refused to entertain
any proposals from a foe reduced to extremity. Then a sally was made,
and the besiegers, unable to withstand the impetuous attack of the
Cordovans, sustained a crushing defeat. Their army was scattered; the
negroes were slaughtered; the surviving Berbers betook themselves to
Malaga, where they entered the service of Yahya; and Kasim, repulsed
from the gates of Seville, in which city he had hoped once more to find
security, made his way to Xeres, where he soon afterwards fell into the
hands of his nephew, and was by his order strangled in prison.

Liberated from the detested presence of the Berbers after an
interregnum of two months, the inhabitants of Cordova determined to
exercise the right of election in the choice of a ruler, an ancient
and integral but long suspended principle of their polity. A vast
concourse was convoked in the spacious temple erected by Abd-al-Rahman
I. The proceedings were conducted with every circumstance of pomp
and solemnity. The presence of the surviving princes of the House of
Ommeyah, of the descendants of families illustrious for centuries in
the annals of the Peninsula, of nobles who traced their lineage beyond
the Hegira, all arrayed in silken vestments embroidered with gold
and silver, imparted an air of majesty and splendor to the scene.
Thousands of the clients of the dynasty, whose fate had been so closely
interwoven with that of the capital it had done so much to embellish,
attended in the snowy robes which constituted the distinguishing badge
of their party. The Mosque, which easily contained ten thousand people,
was crowded to its utmost capacity. Three candidates--Abd-al-Rahman,
brother of Mohammed Mahdi; Suleyman, son of Abd-al-Rahman IV.; and
Mohammed-Ibn-al-Iraki--appeared to solicit the suffrages of the
multitude. Of these, Suleyman, whose claims were urged by the viziers
and by the most powerful nobles of the court, seemed so certain of
success that, with ill-advised haste, he appeared in the assemblage
clad in the costume reserved for royalty, while his adherents had
prematurely caused the deed of investiture to be drawn up in his name.
But the votes of the lower classes, with whom Abd-al-Rahman was the
favorite, overwhelmed the aristocratic party of Suleyman, and, amidst
the acclamations of his supporters, the fortunate candidate received
the reluctant homage of his rivals, and was raised to the throne of his
ancestors under the name of Abd-al-Rahman V.

The reign of the new Khalif lasted only forty-seven days. His elevation
was displeasing to the old nobility. His orthodoxy was suspected.
The irreverent speeches of his companions were heard with disgust
by the theologians and the ministers of religion, who, perhaps not
unjustly, thought that infidel and sacrilegious sentiments should
not be encouraged in the presence of the Successor of the Prophet.
The predilection of the young prince for the society of poets and
scholars was a source of complaint to the populace, including many
thousand unemployed mechanics and laborers, who had been impoverished
by the unsettled condition of society, who had in vain solicited
relief from each successive administration, and who, exasperated by
repeated disappointments, were ready for any desperate undertaking. The
habitual discontent of this numerous class was diligently encouraged
by Mohammed, a degenerate grandson of the great Al-Nassir, who united
the tastes of an aristocrat with the arts of a demagogue. By the
mediation of Ibn-Imran, a noble who had been imprisoned for sedition
and imprudently released, a combination of the two most antagonistic
elements of Moslem society was accomplished; and disappointed ambition
induced the haughty patrician to co-operate with the laborer and the
slave who, with the jealousy born of degradation and poverty, had
always regarded the members of the ancient Arab nobility as their
natural and implacable enemies. When the conspiracy was matured, the
guards, who had been corrupted, were withdrawn; the ministers quietly
deserted their master; the revolutionists occupied the citadel; and
Abd-al-Rahman, dragged ignominiously from an oven where he had hastily
sought concealment, was put to death without ceremony or delay. The
palace was then sacked by the mob; every individual related by blood
or affinity to the Berbers was butchered; the seraglio of the late
Khalif was apportioned among the leaders of the triumphant faction; and
Mohammed, surrounded with the sanguinary evidences of victory and with
the corpse of his predecessor lying before him, took his seat upon the
throne.

The unnatural union of the patricians and the mob was dissolved as
soon as its object had been attained. The former despised Mohammed,
whom they had used solely as an instrument of vengeance, and at once
begun to plot his overthrow. Ina few months another insurrection
vacated the royal office. Mohammed escaped in a female disguise,
only to be poisoned by one of his followers. The African, Yahya, who
ruled the city of Malaga, was invited to assume the hazardous and
unprofitable honor attaching to the empty title of khalif and the
precarious sovereignty of Cordova. That prince, knowing by experience
the character of those who tendered him a crown, and the desperation
which must have prompted that act when the prejudice against his
nationality was considered, while not unwilling to include Cordova in
his dominions, yet hesitated to intrust his person to a people whose
reputation for disorder and perfidy had gained for it such an infamous
and wide-spread notoriety. He therefore delegated his authority
to a Berber officer, who, to the consternation and disgust of the
inhabitants, took up his abode in the Alcazar, with the title and the
powers of viceroy.

The old feeling against the Africans was soon revived. A new conspiracy
solicited the interference of Khairan, whose advancing years
apparently offered no impediment to his participation in treasonable
or revolutionary enterprises, and, with the aid of Modjehid, governor
of Denia, he easily drove the Berbers from Cordova. But, as each
party feared the other, no agreement could be effected concerning the
succession, and the Cordovans were again left to extricate themselves
as best they might from the difficulties which misgovernment and
license had brought upon them. Once more an attempt was made to restore
the Ommeyades, and the crown was offered to a brother of Abd-al-Rahman
IV., called Hischem, a name of inauspicious associations, and fated to
designate the last of that renowned dynasty of Moorish kings.

Already in the decline of life, of moderate abilities, and for
years accustomed to the hardships of poverty and exile, Hischem
III. possessed none of those qualities which inspire the respect of
the noble and the learned or arouse the enthusiasm of the giddy and
inconstant populace. His person was without dignity. His manners were
those of a clown. His education had been neglected. Long familiarity
with hunger had made him insensible to all enjoyments save those
afforded by the indulgence of inordinate gluttony. Although he was
welcomed by the inhabitants of Cordova with every demonstration of
affection and rejoicing, he constantly maintained a reserved and
stolid demeanor which as ill became his station and prospective
greatness as did the simplicity of his attire and smallness of his
retinue, neither of which was commensurate with the rank of even a
prosperous citizen. Upon a people who had not forgotten the majesty
of the ancient khalifate and the lavish display of regal magnificence
exhibited by its princes, the plebeian appearance and insignificant
equipage of this successor of the famous Abd-al-Rahman III. produced
a feeling of disappointment not unmingled with contempt. Nor did the
subsequent conduct of Hischem III. tend to remove the unfavorable
impressions which his first appearance elicited. His voracity and his
indolence made him a conspicuous target for the sarcastic wits of the
capital. His practical surrender of the power and emoluments of his
office to his prime minister, Hakem-Ibn-Said, whose former respectable
but humble occupation of weaver seemed a doubtful qualification for
important employments of state, provoked the envy and indignation of
the arrogant and highly accomplished Arab nobility. The arbitrary
measures devised by Hakem to replenish the treasury soon increased the
unpopularity which his obscure origin and his unexpected exaltation
inspired. He confiscated and sold at auction the jewels and other
personal effects of the wealthy Amirides, who, belonging to the weakest
political faction of Andalusia, could be oppressed and robbed with
comparative impunity. These descendants of the renowned Al-Mansur were
also forced to purchase for an enormous sum the metal collected from
the royal palaces, whose destruction was popularly attributed to the
ambition or the vengeance of the adherents of that family of daring
adventurers. Amidst the maledictions and unavailing remonstrances of
the clergy, the sanctity of the mosques was again profaned, and the
treasures accumulated through the generosity of the pious compelled to
contribute to the imperious necessities of the state. The diminution
of their revenues exasperated the ministers of religion far more
than the sacrilegious interference with their authority and the
appropriation of the precious utensils of divine worship. But the
theological element had long since, by its avarice, its hypocrisy,
and its inclination to political disorder, forfeited the respect of
the people of Cordova, where once the ravings of a popular faqui
could awaken the apprehensions of the most powerful of sovereigns.
While Hakem had little to fear from the hostility of this class, the
conduct of the patricians caused him no little anxiety. All attempts
to conciliate them proved ineffectual. They scorned his advances.
They refused with disdain honorable and lucrative employments. The
most magnificent presents failed to gain their friendship or even to
secure their neutrality. Thus, repulsed by those whose support he had
hoped to acquire, the minister was driven to the inferior orders for
the selection of his generals and his magistrates. Every official
now shared the odium attaching to his superior. The prejudices thus
entertained by the most illustrious and influential order of the empire
against the government could not long exist without consequences fatal
to its stability.

To insure the continuance of his authority, the astute vizier, who no
doubt drew a parallel between his own case and that of the talented and
unscrupulous hajib of Hischem II., gratified with all the resources
of boundless wealth and unlimited power the sensual caprices and
epicurean tastes of his aged and dissolute sovereign. The provinces
were ransacked for delicacies to tempt his palate. Such dainties
as were unattainable in his own dominions were procured in foreign
countries through the medium of enterprising merchants. The choicest
wines of Spain, even then famous for the variety and excellence of
its vintage, were consumed at the royal table in quantities which
appalled the orthodox Mussulman, and struck with amazement the more
liberal courtier, who was familiar with the scandalous excesses of
preceding reigns. Professional singers and dancers, of exquisite beauty
and rare accomplishments, solaced the leisure of the representative
of a religion which pronounced their performances an abomination in
the sight of God. The attendants of the Khalif were instructed to
employ every artifice to retain the latter in seclusion; but the
congenial character of the diversions with which the politic ingenuity
of the minister daily amused him afforded little probability of his
interference with the ambitious designs of one whose anticipation of
the desires of his master, in his eyes, more than atoned for the evils
resulting from the public misfortune.

But the character of Hischem, while weak, was far from despicable.
At times, despite the blandishments of the inmates of his harem,
he came forth from his retirement and mingled with the people. He
dispensed with liberal and indiscriminating hand the alms whose
bestowal is one of the cardinal virtues of the faith of Islam. He
visited the hospitals and brought hope and consolation to the couch
of the sick and the dying. His generosity relieved the necessities
of impecunious pilgrims. The kindness and urbanity he manifested,
even to the most degraded, acquired for him the respect and esteem
of his subjects. Many a malefactor condemned to an inglorious death
had reason to applaud his noble but often mistaken clemency. These
estimable qualities, however, could not, in the eyes of the indignant
aristocracy, compensate for the habitual neglect of public duty
displayed by the Khalif, nor for his complacent resignation of the
destinies of the empire into the hands of a low-born subordinate,
whose creatures monopolized the highest employments and exacted the
unwilling homage of cavaliers whose lineage antedated the Conquest
by centuries. A number of nobles, whose influence had been secretly
but effectively exerted during the recent disturbances, again met for
consultation. The deposition of Hischem was resolved upon, and it was
also determined that they themselves should hereafter be the sole
depositaries of power. The method they pursued to accomplish their end
affords a significant illustration of the low standard of public morals
which at that time universally prevailed. It must be remembered that
these men were no vulgar conspirators. Of the distinctions conferred
by birth, education, political experience, and military renown none
possessed a larger share. They belonged to the most haughty and
exclusive of the patricians. Their blood had never been contaminated
by degrading alliances with African, Jew, or Spaniard. Aside from the
losses incurred through enforced contributions, their wealth had not
been sensibly impaired by the destructive accidents of revolution
and civil war. Their attainments would have been respectable even
when Cordova was the most enlightened community in Europe, and now,
in its age of degeneracy, few indeed could be found to rival them in
acuteness and erudition. Some were descended from a line of courtiers
for generations employed in the diplomatic service of the khalifate.
Others had exercised their military talents against the Christian
chivalry on the frontiers of Aragon and Catalonia. A few theologians
were to be found among them whose religious principles had not escaped
the vicious contagion of the age, and with whom questions of casuistry
were invariably subordinated to the alluring claims of pecuniary
interest and worldly ambition. It would naturally be presumed that men
of this character would be solicitous to maintain a high standard of
personal honor and political integrity. But constant familiarity with
treason in its most repulsive forms; with the organized hypocrisy that
permeated every department of the government and every rank of society;
with the savage tyranny of princes, who themselves did not hesitate
to assume the hateful office of executioner; with the deliberate
malice of assassins, who without compunction thrust the dagger into
the vitals of their unsuspecting friends; with the irreconcilable
enmities of the nearest kindred; with the spirit of anarchy ripe among
the masses, had produced such complete demoralization that no caste
or individual was uncontaminated by its pernicious influence. The
association of nobles, above alluded to, had organized itself into
a semi-official body under the designation of the Council of State.
At its head was Ibn-Djahwar, a statesman of great talents, of large
experience, of exquisite tact, of indefatigable energy. The antagonism
between this powerful junta and the minister became each day more
bitter, as each endeavored, with industrious malignity, to subvert the
authority of the other. The influence of his favorite was paramount
with the Khalif, but the Khalif was a cipher. The nobles possessed the
sympathy of their order and the deferential admiration of the masses,
who always looked to the aristocracy for advice and leadership. They
artfully stimulated the discontent of the people, already sufficiently
grievous, by representing the public distress and the decline of
commercial prosperity--legitimate results of a long series of national
misfortunes--as the work of the obnoxious hajib. They aroused the
feeling against the Berbers, some of whom Hakem had intrusted with
important employments. Then, with an ingenious refinement of treachery,
they engaged a young adventurer named Ommeya, a collateral descendant
of the dynasty of Cordova, to head a revolution with the hope of
ascending the throne. Every facility was afforded him by his shrewd
but perfidious allies. They secretly distributed emissaries through
every quarter of the capital and the provinces. They contributed gold
with profuse liberality. The officers of the army were corrupted by
bribery and by promises of promotion. At length the long-expected
signal was given. The mob rose and killed the minister as he issued
from the palace. The venerable Khalif was seized and confined in his
apartments while the nobles assembled to determine his fate. Ommeya,
wholly unconscious of the duplicity of which he was the victim, had
already began to arrogate to himself the prerogatives of imperial power
by the issuing of commands, the appointment of officials, and the
distribution of rewards. The members of the Council of State, attended
by an armed escort, now appeared upon the scene. With a solemnity that
awed the multitude, they declared the khalifate abolished, and assumed,
by virtue of their self-established dignity, the responsibilities of
government and the supreme direction of affairs. In a proclamation
addressed to the inhabitants of Andalusia, they recounted the
calamities which had ensued from the broken and disordered succession
of the empire; the repeated disappointments resulting from the
elevation of incompetent and dissolute pretenders; the insecurity
of the present and the uncertainty of the future which paralyzed
all branches of commerce and industry; the absolute hopelessness of
improvement under the worthless princes of a decrepit and unstable
dynasty. With modesty and firmness they enumerated their own
qualifications for the discharge of the functions they had usurped.
They promised the maintenance of order, the regulation of police, the
removal of the burdens imposed by immoderate and arbitrary taxation.
They pledged themselves to the faithful execution of the laws. The
well-known and eminent character of the nobles composing the Council
of State procured for their statements a respectful hearing, and their
power, long exercised in an advisory capacity, had prepared the way for
the unreserved assumption of authority. Without either remonstrance
or enthusiasm, the inhabitants of a considerable portion of the
Peninsula transferred their alliance from a line of monarchs, rendered
illustrious by the glorious traditions of nearly three centuries,
to the irresponsible members of a precarious and self-constituted
oligarchy.

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.

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.

The policy of Ibn-Abbas had always been characterized by unrelenting
hostility to the members of other factions. Berbers, Christians, and
Jews had been repeatedly visited with decided marks of his disfavor.
His representations had induced Zohair, alone of all the Arab princes,
to hold aloof from the alliance formed against the Africans. Hebrews
were the especial objects of his antipathy. The influence of this race,
paramount in the adjacent principality of Granada, and which had at
different times interfered with the accomplishment of his ambitious
projects, now led indirectly to important events, seriously affecting
the stability of existing institutions as well as the ultimate
political destinies of the Peninsula.

Wonderfully favored by nature, as well as by the industry of a numerous
population, the province of Granada early began to give evidence of
that greatness which culminated in its erection into an independent
and powerful kingdom. The Jews, attracted by the productiveness of
its soil, the salubrity of its climate, and the mercantile advantages
of its situation, had settled there in such numbers that the capital
was, even before the accession of the first Abd-al-Rahman, known as
a Jewish city. The financial ability and enterprise of their race
had enabled them to surpass all commercial rivals, and the trade of
the province eventually passed into their hands. Their wealth was
beyond computation; their Semitic affiliations protected them from
political outrage and religious persecution; while the experience and
the abilities of their leaders were often employed by the illiterate
princes who, either as vassals or petty sovereigns, occupied the throne
of Granada. During the period under consideration that state was ruled
by Habus, a monarch of African origin, and the influence of the Berber
party was predominant and unquestioned throughout his dominions,
although they contained many sympathizers with the fallen dynasty and
thousands of Christian tributaries.

At the head of the Hebrews of Granada was the famous Rabbi Samuel,
of the family of Levi, who enjoyed the unusual distinction of being
the chief councillor of a Mussulman sovereign. Born in an humble
station at Cordova, he early developed a taste for literature, and
had profited to the utmost by the admirable educational facilities
afforded by the schools of the capital. His diligence had been
rewarded by the acquisition of vast stores of knowledge. He was an
accomplished linguist, a talented poet. His conversation and his
writings demonstrated his thorough acquaintance with all the learning
of the time. His official correspondence, for felicity of expression
and purity of diction, was the envy of the scholars of every
Andalusian court. In the perfection of his chirography, he excelled
the performance of experts in that art, an extraordinary attainment in
an age when the greatest importance was attached to regularity in the
characters and beauty in the ornamentation of books and inscriptions.
The controversial works of Samuel enjoyed a high reputation among
the theologians and philosophers of his sect, while his patronage of
the learned and the liberality with which he rewarded the struggling
efforts of aspiring genius endeared his name to every member of the
commonwealth of letters. His familiarity with the most abstruse
branches of science, his proficiency in rhetoric, mathematics, and
astronomy were considered almost supernatural by his contemporaries.
He educated at his own expense deserving but indigent youths of his
nation; a number of secretaries were kept constantly employed under
his direction in transcribing copies of the Talmud, to be presented to
the poor; and afflicted and destitute Jews of such distant countries
as Egypt, Palestine, and Persia had frequent reason to applaud the
generous and charitable conduct of the Chief Rabbi of Granada.

The advancement of Samuel to a position demanding the exercise of the
highest diplomatic talents, as well as the possession of extensive
knowledge and a profound acquaintance with human nature, was due in a
great measure to his own genius and to the reputation his abilities
had already acquired. He owed nothing to the fortuitous advantages of
rank or fortune. His family was poor. His ancestors could boast of no
connection with either the kings of Judea or the priests of the ancient
hierarchy. For years he had maintained himself by the sale of spices
in a little shop in the bazaar of Malaga. An accident brought him to
the notice of Al-Arif, Vizier of the King of Granada, and he became
the secretary of that official, who, upon his death-bed, recommended
him to his sovereign as a servant eminently worthy of confidence. The
event justified the wise advice of the vizier. The rabbi of a detested
race inspired the respect and received the willing homage of the
proudest Arab nobles, who could not but admire the unaffected dignity
with which he bore the honors of his exalted station. He was the
only prime-minister of his sect mentioned in history who ever openly
directed the policy of a Moslem government. Such was his unerring
sagacity that one of his countrymen said that his counsels were such
as might have been directly inspired by the omniscience of God. He
conducted the administration of public affairs with the most consummate
wisdom, and the subsequent power and grandeur of the kingdom of
Granada were largely attributable to the genius of this eminent Hebrew
statesman.

A spirit of rivalry, aggravated by prejudice of race and jealousy of
power, had arisen between the viziers of Almeria and Granada. While
Samuel sustained his claims to superiority by a dignified indifference,
Ibn-Abbas endeavored to undermine and subvert the influence of the
rabbi by the most dishonorable artifices that hatred could invent.
But, to the mortification of the vindictive minister, his efforts
proved futile. In vain he caused to be spread fictitious rumors of
the avarice, the oppression, the ambitious hopes, and the meditated
treachery of his rival. The confidence of both monarch and people was
too well founded in the honor and integrity of Samuel to be shaken by
the malicious falsehoods of an avowed enemy. In the mean time, Habus
having died, an attempt was made by Ibn-Abbas to excite a revolution
by espousing the pretensions of a younger son of the deceased king.
But Badis, the heir-apparent, through the influence of Samuel, ascended
the throne in defiance of foreign interference and internal discord.
The first act of Badis, influenced probably by the suggestions of
his politic adviser,--for Samuel continued to enjoy the favor and
confidence of the son in the same degree that he had formerly done
under the father,--was an attempt at reconciliation with Zohair,
prince of Almeria. The latter affected to receive these proposals with
pleasure, and then, suddenly, without the consent required by the
law of nations, having traversed at the head of an armed escort the
territory of his neighbor, appeared before the walls of his capital.
The flagrant discourtesy of this act was overlooked by the angry and
astonished host in his desire for harmony. Zohair and his companions
were entertained with becoming hospitality; and the Arab Emir was
dazzled by the splendors of a palace which stood on the site afterwards
to be occupied by the peerless Alhambra. But the prince of Almeria,
forgetting the amenities demanded by his position, bore himself with
insufferable arrogance; the members of his train assumed an air of
insolent superiority which aroused the indignation of the court and
the people; while the vizier, whose pride seemed to have mastered his
sense of official propriety, conducted himself without regard to the
consequences certain to result from the resentment of an infuriated
enemy. After a few days of ineffectual negotiation, the conference
was abruptly concluded; and Zohair and his retinue departed, only to
fall into an ambuscade which the outraged Granadans had prepared for
them in the depths of the sierra. The most heroic valor availed but
little in the presence of overwhelming odds; the possibility of escape
was effectually removed by the precipices and gorges of a mountain
solitude; and the prince with most of his followers perished upon
the weapons of the Berber soldiery or were hurled into ravines whose
depths were shrouded in perpetual darkness. Of those who survived, the
soldiers were beheaded; and the court dignitaries, who were classed
as non-combatants, were released, with a single exception. Ibn-Abbas,
after enduring the taunts of an ungenerous and triumphant foe, was
loaded with heavy fetters and thrown into a dungeon. His pathetic
appeals for mercy were unheeded by the ferocious Badis. He vainly
tried to tempt the cupidity of his jailers with the offer of a bribe
of sixty thousand ducats. In accordance with the ruthless customs of
mediæval barbarity, the captive minister was dragged in chains before
the throne and pierced with the sword-thrusts of the monarch and his
courtiers until life was extinct. Thus perished the accomplished
Ibn-Abbas through the consequences of his own temerity, and with him
was removed one of the greatest obstacles of both national unity and
Berber ambition.

Before the inhabitants of Almeria had recovered from the consternation
caused by the death of their sovereign, his domains were appropriated
by the Emir of Valencia. This step, perhaps advised by the astute
Kadi of Seville, at all events greatly strengthened the power of
that dignitary by extending the domain of a vassal of the pretended
Hischem and removing all prospect of the accession of another dangerous
enemy. This fortunate circumstance having relieved his apprehensions
of disturbance from the successors of Zohair, the wily Abul-Kasim
began to carry his insidious operations into the court of Granada. The
employment of spies, some of whom occupied high official positions,
made this enterprising statesman intimately acquainted with the
secret transactions of every Divan in the Peninsula. His emissaries
at Granada, while informing him of the discontent prevailing in
that city on account of the tyranny and habitual intoxication of the
King, which kept the people in constant alarm, also communicated the
opinion that it would not be difficult, by means of an insurrection,
to bring the entire principality under the jurisdiction of Seville.
To insure success for this notable enterprise a competent leader was
required, a task of little difficulty in a country long accustomed to
revolution and swarming with able and unscrupulous men. There lived
at this time at Granada a prominent personage named Abu-al-Fotuh, who
combined the rather inconsistent professions of a soldier of fortune
and a peripatetic philosopher. A native of Djordjan, on the shores of
the Caspian,--the Hyrcania of the ancients,--the affluent circumstances
of his family had provided for him an excellent education, and he
was well versed in all the learning of the East. Not only was he
remarkably proficient in grammar and astronomy, but the occult
sciences were the objects of his especial predilection. A recognized
authority on geomancy and astrology, he was regarded with awe by the
vulgar, who thought that they detected in his habits and occupations
evidence of communication with the mysterious powers of the unseen
world. This popular impression his interests engaged him to confirm
by every artifice of perverted ingenuity. His house was secluded from
observation, and contained a well-equipped laboratory, whose caldrons
and alembics were firmly believed by his neighbors to be implements
devoted to the unlawful practice of magic. In his dress and his manners
he affected an air of profound mystery and reserve. His garments were
embroidered with cabalistic symbols. His staff was entwined with
serpents. In public he maintained a taciturnity unusual with his
voluble race, a trait too often accepted by the thoughtless multitude
as an indication of superior wisdom. The scientific acquirements
and literary tastes of this remarkable individual did not deter him
from adopting for his pecuniary benefit the most disreputable arts
of the charlatan. His mansion was daily visited by crowds eager to
learn the prognostications of the future derived from the casting of
horoscopes and the study of the stars. Officials of distinguished rank
were included among his patrons; royalty itself did not disdain to
interrogate the oracles of destiny; and the relations of this learned
impostor with the King of Granada, embellished by the genius of an
accomplished writer, form the subject of one of the most fascinating
tales in the English language. Although his present occupations were
those of peace, the years of Abu-al-Fotuh had not been passed entirely
amidst the uneventful routine of a sedentary life. He was a daring
horseman, well skilled in all the martial exercises of the age; a
soldier bearing upon his person the scars of honorable wounds received
in battle; a general whose coolness and intrepidity had been tested
by the perils of many a campaign. Such was the leader selected by
the aspiring Abul-Kasim to overturn the throne of the dissolute and
unpopular King of Granada.

The attractions of political intrigue obtained the mastery over
philosophical maxims and worldly experience in the mind of
Abu-al-Fotuh, and he embraced with ardor the proposals of the Kadi of
Seville. He secretly represented to Yahya, a cousin of Badis, that
the present conjunction of the planets was unusually favorable to his
fortunes, inasmuch as the calculations of astrology indicated the
speedy death of the sovereign and the promotion of his relative to the
honors and prerogatives of the crown. The vanity and the hopes of a
thoughtless prince were excited by this announcement so authoritatively
conveyed, and he willingly accepted a responsibility which seemed to
have received the sanction of heaven. The discontent of the people was
sedulously fomented; the support of a number of disaffected nobles
was secured; and the ramifications of a formidable plot soon began to
extend to every corner of the city and the province. Unfortunately
for the success of their scheme, the conspirators had failed to take
into consideration the sagacity and vigilance of the Jewish vizier.
The suspicious movements of well-known malcontents could not long
escape the observation of his spies. The plot was betrayed; and the
ringleaders, escaping with some difficulty the vengeance of Badis, fled
to Seville. Enraged by the interference of a stranger in the affairs
of his kingdom, an appeal of the Lord of Carmona to Badis and to Edris
of Malaga was made an opportune pretext for the chastisement of the
presumptuous ruler of Seville. The hostile armies met near Ecija. The
Sevillians, commanded by Ismail, the son of the Kadi, were defeated;
and the sorrow of the catastrophe was aggravated by the death of the
youthful general, who, in a short but brilliant career of arms, had
displayed talents and resources worthy of an experienced veteran.
Solicitude for the safety of his wife and children, unprotected in
the power of his indignant sovereign, induced Abu-al-Fotuh soon after
the battle to throw himself upon the generosity of a tyrant whose
deafness to every appeal for mercy was notorious and proverbial.
With a diabolical refinement of cruelty, Badis, through an effectual
display of compassion, raised in the mind of the unfortunate captive
fallacious hopes of a speedy deliverance. Conducted to Granada rather
with the ceremony due to a guest than with the restraint imposed upon
a prisoner, as soon as the gate of the city was reached the courtesy
of the guard was abruptly changed into insult and violence, and
Abu-al-Fotuh received the ignominious treatment of a common malefactor.
His head was shaved; he was lashed upon the back of a camel; and the
driver of the animal, followed by a guard of slaves, scourged the
victim relentlessly, while the procession exhibiting this suggestive
example of royal justice traversed with deliberate steps, and amidst
the jeers of the populace, the principal thoroughfares of the city.
After submitting to this punishment, Abu-al-Fotuh was cast into prison,
and a few days afterwards underwent the same fate the vizier of Almeria
had endured, and was buried by the side of that rash but accomplished
statesman.

I have described somewhat at length the personal characteristics of
the men who, in the troublous times which followed the dismemberment
of the khalifate, either attained to power or perished in unsuccessful
attempts to subvert the existing authority of the state, in order to
call the attention of the reader to the high standard of intelligence
and education demanded of a leader of the people. The day had long
since gone by when an illiterate faqui, no matter how eminently
gifted by nature with oratorical powers, could direct the blind and
headstrong passions of the multitude. The possession of great talents
and great learning was indispensable for the acquisition of political
influence and the management of important national enterprises. The
education of the masses, even in a country for nearly half a century
distracted by sedition, was too far advanced to permit the successful
exercise of the arts of the ignorant demagogue. Without the accidental
distinction of birth, no individual, no matter how commanding his
abilities or how thorough his qualifications for office, could ever
hope to secure the co-operation of the proud Arab nobility. Nowhere,
since the decadence of Attic splendor, had so many men of varied
talents and literary accomplishments risen to political distinction
as in the closing years of the Hispano-Arab empire in Spain. No
circumstances could well be imagined more unfavorable to intellectual
advancement. The entire country was unsettled. Property was insecure.
Revolutions were frequent. The services of nearly every able-bodied
man were liable to be required at any moment for the protection of
the existing government. The tranquillity so essential to the full
exercise of the mental faculties in literary pursuits was, under such
conditions, absolutely unattainable. Yet, although beset by such
formidable difficulties, the genius of Arab culture continued to
sustain the high reputation which it had gained under the khalifate.
The popular system of education still preserved, amidst manifold
interruptions, the standard of excellence by which it had formerly been
distinguished. Each principality became a centre of learning, and, in
friendly emulation, endeavored to surpass the scientific achievements
of its neighbors. The Arabian society of the Peninsula, having thus
inherited and preserved the progressive spirit, the noble traditions,
and the literary tastes of the khalifate, was enabled to long retain
the undisputed intellectual supremacy of Europe.

Abul-Kasim-Mohammed, the Kadi of Seville, died in that city in 1042,
after a reign of more than twenty years. Although never formally vested
with the supreme authority, he had, since the dethronement of Yahya,
practically exercised the functions of an absolute sovereign. His
son, Abbad, whose designation of Motadhid is that by which he is best
known to history, ascended the throne as the minister of the mat-maker
Khalaf, who, still fraudulently representing the imperial dignity of
the Ommeyades, continued to pass his days in indolence and luxury,
while the family of the Beni-Abbad, through the serviceable agency of
his imposture, was making rapid progress towards the acquisition of
despotic power. Motadhid was a prince of excellent parts which had
been improved by assiduous study; but his temperament was fierce and
sensual; his ungovernable rage made him the terror of the city; and,
in the indulgence of his vices and the prosecution of his ambition, he
recognized neither the ties of kindred, the obligations of hospitality,
the faith of treaties, nor the law of nations. He wrote verses far
superior in quality to those usually produced by royal authors. Even
the bacchanalian poems of his hours of dissipation were distinguished
for the ingenuity of their conceits, the elegance of their diction,
and the delicacy of their sentiments. His patronage of learning has
served to compensate, in a measure, for the crimes which have blackened
his character in the eyes of posterity. The taste displayed in some of
his compositions is not surpassed by that of any of the most elaborate
productions of Arabian genius which have descended to our times. One
of the most striking peculiarities of Motadhid was his taciturnity. He
had no confidants. He never betrayed, by word or gesture, the thoughts
that were passing through his mind. His designs were formed and carried
into execution with a skill and a success which argued not only unusual
powers of invention and combination, but a profound acquaintance with
the weaknesses and the inconsistencies of human nature. In his personal
habits, he was one of the most licentious and brutal princes of his
century. A skeptic in religion, it was said that he believed in nothing
but astrology and wine. His orgies were the reproach of the court and
the horror of the capital. His fits of intoxication lasted for days,
and in his capacity to consume large quantities of wine he far exceeded
the most seasoned and strong-headed of his boon companions. “To drink
at dawn is a religious dogma, and whoever does not believe in it is a
Pagan,” was one of his favorite maxims. An ardent admirer of beauty,
he caused the slave-markets of Europe and Asia to be searched for the
most attractive specimens of female loveliness, and his harem contained
eight hundred concubines, selected for their extraordinary charms. The
implacable animosity of Motadhid was rarely assuaged by the completion
of vengeance; it demanded the preservation of mementos by which he
might recall with ferocious pleasure the fate of a hated and formidable
enemy. The skulls of such as had perished in rebellion or by the sword
of the executioner, as well as of those of hostile officers who had
fallen in battle, were all preserved. The garden of his palace was
lined with rows of these melancholy and suggestive trophies, in which
he caused to be planted flowers of brilliant colors and delightful
fragrance. Each skull was polished to a snowy whiteness, and bore upon
a label the name and the offence of its former owner. In a casket
among his treasures were preserved similar memorials of the princes
who had succumbed to the superior fortune of his arms. These were
adorned with a splendor which attested the value attached to them by
their possessor as evidences of victory. They were set in gold; in the
sockets, once brightened with the flashing of the human eye, the cold
glitter of the diamond arrested the glance of the horrified observer;
and around the temples was inserted a row of precious stones of various
colors,--sapphires, rubies, hyacinths, and emeralds. These souvenirs
of blood and cruelty always imparted fresh inspiration to the mind
of Motadhid, and the most joyous as well as the most pathetic of his
verses were composed while in their contemplation.

The agents and spies of Motadhid were to be found in every country
and in every court. Nowhere was even the fugitive who had incurred
the enmity of the tyrant safe from his vengeance. In Seville lived a
blind citizen of great wealth. His possessions provoked the avarice
of the prince, and he unceremoniously appropriated the greater portion
of them. The victim having lost the remainder, and being reduced to
penury, travelled, dependent upon charity, as a pilgrim to Mecca. To
all who would listen, he told the story of his wrongs, and declaimed
against the injustice of the ruler of Seville both in the Mosque and in
the public places of the Holy City.

In the course of time his denunciations were reported to Motadhid. The
latter caused to be prepared a bronze casket, in which were placed a
number of pieces of gold that had been covered with a deadly volatile
poison. As the pilgrims were leaving to join the annual caravan to
Mecca, Motadhid caused one of them, in whom he could confide, to be
brought before him, and gave him the casket.

“When thou hast entered the Holy City,” said he, “seek out the person
whose name is inscribed hereon, and present this to him with my
compliments. But be sure not to open the casket or evil will befall
thee.”

On his arrival the messenger had little difficulty in finding the blind
beggar, who was accustomed each day, before the Great Mosque, to revile
the name and recount the crimes of his oppressor.

“Friend,” said the Andalusian, “behold a gift which our Lord the Prince
of Seville hath charged me to deliver to you. Receive it with joy, for
methinks it is of great value.”

The blind man took the casket and shook it. “By the beard of the
Prophet, it contains gold!” he cried. “But why hath Motadhid sent me
this, after having reduced me to poverty and driven me into exile?”

“I know not,” responded the other. “It may be a royal caprice; it may
be the fruit of remorse. In any event, rejoice in thy good fortune.”

“Thanks for thy kindness, and do not fail to convey to the Prince the
assurance of my appreciation of his generosity,” said the beggar, as
he departed to grope his way through the street leading to the wretched
lodging which public charity had bestowed upon him.

Opening the fatal casket, he poured the gold into his lap. He counted
it, fondled it, embraced it, with all the rapture of one who long
accustomed to abject poverty is suddenly raised to affluence.

But a few moments elapsed before the fumes of the poison produced
their effect; a convulsive shudder racked his frame, and the victim of
Motadhid’s hatred fell forward upon his treasure--a corpse.

The military operations of Motadhid were characterized by great energy
and unusual success. At the very outset of his reign, he was attacked
by a coalition of Berber princes. Marching towards the west, he
desolated the territories of Modhaffer, Emir of Badajoz, the soul of
the hostile league. In a battle which followed, Modhaffer sustained a
decisive defeat, and a considerable number of the inhabitants of his
capital were killed and captured. The son of Mohammed, Emir of Carmona,
perished in this engagement, and his skull, duly bleached and labelled
and embellished with gold and jewels, was deposited by the side of its
grinning predecessors in the unique casket of the Prince of Seville.
Peace was finally adjusted between these two petty sovereigns through
the intervention of Ibn-Djahwar, ruler of Cordova, who, in these
sanguinary struggles, although his sympathies were with the opponents
of the Berbers, maintained a politic neutrality. His most formidable
enemy disposed of, Motadhid attacked and conquered in detail the little
states of Huelva, Silves, and Santa-Maria. The extreme South of the
Peninsula was at that time in the hands of the Berbers. To such a
commanding position had the principality of Seville now attained, that
the African lords of Andalusia acknowledged the title and the supremacy
of the false Hischem, and paid tribute to the government he pretended
to control. The cupidity and ambition of Motadhid were aroused by the
sight of this fertile domain lying at his very door. He determined
to secure the prize by artifice, this method being more congenial
to his politic genius than the expensive and uncertain result of an
appeal to arms. The states of Ronda and Moron, the most important and
accessible, he selected as the object of his first attempt. Relying
upon the doubtful faith of his tributaries, and accompanied by only
four attendants, he boldly placed himself in the power of the Berber
chieftains. He was received with the greatest courtesy and kindness,
and while he was being feasted at the palace, his followers, who had
been selected for their acuteness and proficiency in all the arts of
deception, mingled in disguise with the people and ascertained their
sentiments towards the ruling powers. The information obtained was most
favorable to the plans of Motadhid. Under a delusive appearance of
contentment a wide-spread hatred of the African domination was found
to exist; and, by a judicious distribution of the gold with which they
were provided, his attendants experienced no difficulty in purchasing
the support of a number of influential officials, through whose
assistance, at the designated time, the strongholds of the two Berber
sovereigns were to be betrayed. Amidst the repeated and prolonged
festivities to which his visit had given rise, the ability of Motadhid
to resist the intoxicating fumes of wine stood him in good stead among
revellers whose convivial propensities and experience were fully equal
to his own. In the midst of a prolonged debauch immediately preceding
his intended departure, the crafty prince pretended to be overcome with
sleep. As soon as his heavy breathing indicated loss of consciousness,
his perfidious hosts began to discuss, deliberately and in whispers,
the propriety of his assassination. The infamy of this proposal,
sufficiently flagitious of itself, was increased by the fact that among
the Berbers, as well as the Arabs, hospitality was regarded as the most
noble of virtues, and the person of a guest who had eaten at the board
of his entertainer was, for the time being, inviolably sacred. The few
moral sensibilities originally possessed by the Berbers had, however,
amidst the commotion of incessant conflict and through familiarity
with the insidious artifices constantly employed by the mixed and
demoralized population of the Peninsula, been effectually destroyed.
According to the unscrupulous maxims of their policy universally
entertained and constantly practised, considerations of present
expediency far outweighed the obligations of social courtesy or the
dictates of personal honor. The opportunity of delivering themselves
at a single blow and without personal risk from the most powerful and
implacable enemy of their race was too fortunate and unexpected to be
sacrificed to a mere question of casuistry or sentiment by men long
habituated to deeds of treachery and violence. Of all the assemblage
only one, Moadh-Ibn-Abi-Corra, a youth of the most distinguished
rank, had the principle and the courage to remonstrate. The indignant
reproaches of their young companion, not yet sufficiently practised in
duplicity and crime to overcome the impulses of a noble and generous
nature, prevailed over the base resolve of the other princes, and
realizing, in spite of their blunted faculties, the flagrant enormity
of the project, they quietly abandoned it. While the discussion
involving the fate of Motadhid was being conducted, the self-control
of the latter was subjected to a far more severe strain than it had
ever before been called upon to endure. His drowsiness had been assumed
as a convenient ruse. By its means he had hoped to become acquainted
with the prejudices and the designs of his turbulent vassals heedlessly
betrayed in moments of conviviality. But he was entirely unprepared
for the revelations which fell upon his astonished ears. Aware that
the slightest indication of consciousness would only precipitate the
blow, he maintained, with a simulated calmness incredible under the
circumstances, the appearance of a profound slumber. Finally he arose
and resumed his place at the banquet. Not a tremor of voice, not an
agitation of muscle, disclosed the ordeal he had just undergone. His
marvellous self-command easily imposed upon his unsuspecting hosts,
who, partly from policy, partly from remorse, now overwhelmed with
assiduous attentions the guest whom their deliberate malice had but a
moment before been ready to consign to a violent death.

The prince took his departure amidst mutual expressions of esteem
which, inspired by the profound dissimulation of both parties, seemed
to promise the most amicable intercourse for the future between
suzerain and vassal. The satisfaction of the Berbers was soon increased
by the arrival of messengers from Motadhid charged with the delivery of
costly and beautiful gifts as tokens of the appreciative friendship of
their sovereign. Several months elapsed; assurances of amity continued
to be reciprocally transmitted between the palaces of Seville and
Ronda, until, by every plausible artifice, the unsuspicious Berbers
were lulled into delusive security. Then the governors of Ronda,
Moron, and Xeres were invited, with much ceremony, to partake of the
hospitality of Motadhid. Their attendants increased the party to the
number of sixty persons, splendidly mounted and equipped; and the
gay cavalcade was welcomed at the gates of Seville with the cordial
greetings of the prince and the acclamations of the people. Among
Moslems the first courtesy extended to a guest is the offer of a
bath. It therefore excited no suspicion among the Berber nobles when
they were conducted--with the single exception of Moadh, who, in the
momentary confusion, was, for the time, designedly separated from
his companions--into a series of magnificent vaulted chambers, whose
walls were encased with precious marbles, whose windows were formed of
painted glass, and whose floors and ceilings sparkled with exquisite
mosaics. In order to enjoy freedom from all restraint, their own slaves
attended them. The intolerable and increasing heat caused the latter
before long to attempt to open the door. They found it fastened; by
dint of superhuman effort it was finally broken down, but behind it,
as if by magic, had arisen a massive wall of masonry; egress was seen
to be impossible; and the meditated treachery of the Africans was
fearfully avenged. The next day sixty steaming corpses were taken out
of the bath, whose apartments had been heated to a temperature far
exceeding that ordinarily maintained in an oven. The power of the
Berber faction was hopelessly impaired; a new terror invested the
name of the sanguinary Motadhid; and an unusual number of grisly but
precious and long-coveted trophies was deposited in the charnel-like
caskets preserved among the treasures of the palace.

The anxiety and suspicions of Moadh had been aroused by his evidently
preconcerted separation from his friends. When their fate was announced
to him, it required all the address and condescension Motadhid
could command to soothe his grief and remove his apprehensions.
His inestimable service to the prince during the banquet at Ronda
was recalled, and he was informed that the reward of his noble
championship of the laws of hospitality which had saved the life of
his guest was at hand. A splendid mansion was set apart for him in
the most aristocratic quarter of the city. As an earnest of his future
generosity, Motadhid presented him at once with ten horses and an equal
number of eunuchs, thirty beautiful girls, and a purse of a thousand
dinars. Scarcely a day passed without revealing some new token of the
attachment of his benefactor. His precocious abilities, no less than
the favor of the monarch, procured for him the respectful admiration of
the court. His opinion was heard with attention in the Divan. He was
appointed to a high command in the army. The expenses of his household,
which vied in magnificence with those of the most opulent nobles, were
defrayed by an annual salary of twelve thousand pieces of gold. The
partiality of Motadhid was further evinced by the frequent bestowal of
costly presents, whose rarity and workmanship doubly enhanced their
value. In the brilliant society of the Sevillian court no one was
superior in rank, public estimation, or popular influence to the young
and talented Berber chieftain.

The demoralization which followed the death of their leaders, aided
by the corruption previously employed by Motadhid, gave him almost
immediate possession of the Berber strongholds. Arcos, Xeres, and Moron
surrendered without delay. The resistance of Ronda threatened to be
serious on account of its natural strength and the predominance of the
African population, but as soon as the troops of Motadhid appeared
the citizens of the other races--Arab, Jew, and Christian--rose in
rebellion; the Berbers were cut to pieces; the gates were thrown open;
and the strongest fortress of Andalusia was added to the principality
of Seville.

The news of the terrible fate of the Berber princes was heard with
undisguised consternation by the King of Granada. His own unpopularity
and the disaffection of his subjects were well known to him. The
great number of Arabs and infidels in his dominions was an incessant
menace to the stability of his throne, now rendered less secure than
ever through the example of Ronda; and even the resource of habitual
intoxication could not make him forget the catastrophe which, at that
very moment, might be impending. Tortured by frightful suspicions, he
determined to remove at one blow all the Arabs in the capital. For the
accomplishment of this atrocious deed, he selected Friday, when the
Moslems would be assembled at service in the mosque, the commission
of such a sacrilege being a matter of indifference then compared with
the greater crime. In vain the Vizier Samuel, to whom the design had
been communicated, attempted to represent its folly. The King was
inexorable. Then the Jew took measures to warn the chief personages of
the Arab party. In consequence of this, on the appointed day, the great
Moslem temple, usually crowded with worshippers, was almost deserted.
It was evident that the bloody project had been betrayed, and the
King, having become convinced of the dreadful evils it must inevitably
produce, was finally prevailed upon to relinquish it.

Not long afterwards the wise counsellor, whose commanding abilities had
almost caused the prejudice against his nation to be forgotten, died.
His son, Joseph, a man of finished education and more than ordinary
talents, inherited the honors but not the influence of his father.
His haughty behavior, the magnificence of his dress, the number and
pomp of his retinue, which equalled that of Badis himself, provoked
the envy of all classes. Moslems and Jews alike were appalled by his
blasphemous speeches. He was more than suspected of apostasy from the
religion of Moses, and was so imprudent as to publicly hold up to
derision the doctrines of the Koran. It was determined by the enemies
of the young minister, whose power over the King was unbounded, to
make his unpopularity the excuse for the plunder of the members of
his sect, whose wealth had long excited the cupidity of the populace
of Granada. In furtherance of this plan, the vilest calumnies were
invented concerning him. Impossible crimes were attributed to the
promptings of his malignity and injustice. He was accused of a secret
understanding with the Prince of Almeria, an enemy of Badis; and the
public mind having been inflamed by the publication of satirical poems
which depicted in exaggerated terms the dishonesty and rapacity of
the Jews, the detested vizier was finally seized in the royal palace
by an infuriated mob and crucified. Four thousand unhappy Hebrews
were involved in the ruin of their countryman, and paid the forfeit
attaching to successful thrift and a proscribed nationality. Their
palaces were occupied and their property appropriated by the assassins;
and Jewish supremacy in a Mohammedan state, a condition heretofore
without precedent in the history of Islam, was forever abolished in the
Kingdom of Granada.

The designs of Motadhid had been accomplished by the acquisition of
the greater part of Andalusia, and, as no further advantage could
possibly accrue to his power by longer maintaining a fraud, he publicly
announced the death of the pretended Hischem II. Whether this event,
which under the circumstances was politically of little importance,
was hastened by his own instrumentality is unknown. At all events the
obsequies of the impostor were conducted with regal magnificence, and
by a will he was alleged to have written was bequeathed to the hajib
the once splendid legacy of the Ommeyade empire.

Fortune, which had hitherto so singularly favored the ambition of
Motadhid, seemed now to avert her face from him. His eldest son,
Ismail, twice rebelled against his authority, and, having attempted
to storm the palace, was taken and died by the hand of his enraged and
merciless father. Motamid, his second son, lost the city and state
of Malaga, which he had captured, through his own negligence and the
want of discipline prevailing among his troops, who were surprised and
routed by the King of Granada.

The dominion of Abd-al-Aziz, Emir of Valencia, over Almeria was
terminated in 1041 by the rebellion of his vassal, Abu-al-Ahwac-Man, of
the tribe of Somadih. Under his son Motasim, the latter principality
became famous throughout the Moslem world for the literary
accomplishments of its sovereign and the intellectual culture and
exquisite courtesy of its people. Motasim was an enthusiastic patron
of the arts. His court was the resort of the learned of every land.
There the science of the khalifate, expelled by barbarians, found
a hospitable welcome. There the scholars of Granada, refugees from
Berber tyranny, pursued their studies in peace. There the faquis of
different sects discussed in amicable rivalry their doctrines in the
presence of the throne. The monarch was the model of every princely
virtue. He strove to revive the simple, patriarchal customs of the
Desert. He dispensed justice with an impartial yet with a merciful
hand. Like others of his race, he made poets the especial recipients
of his bounty. Many of them obtained more than a provincial celebrity.
Scarcely less honored and popular were the professors of science.
Physicians, chemists, and natural philosophers occupy a high rank
in the annals of his reign. Abu-Obeyd-Bekri, the most distinguished
geographer of Moorish Spain, was a resident of Almeria.

The Christian states of the North, for fifty years torn by internal
dissensions, were now united under the sceptre of Ferdinand. The
kingdoms of Leon and Castile had been consolidated, and, the
differences of the more insignificant principalities being adjusted,
the attention of the Christians was again directed to the disunited
and helpless members of the khalifate. From this time forth the war
against the Moslem was destined to assume the character of a crusade,
and hostilities to be seldom suspended until the last bulwark of Islam
in the West had fallen and the Cross had been raised upon the towers of
the Alhambra.

The progress made by Ferdinand soon disclosed the weakness of his
adversaries. Badajoz, Lamego, and Visera fell before his arms. The Emir
of Saragossa was forced to abandon all the towns beyond the Douro. The
banners of the Castilian army were seen from the walls of Alcala de
Henares, in the dominions of Mamun, Emir of Toledo. To preserve his
cities from destruction, the latter consented to pay an incredible
ransom of money and jewels, which impoverished his treasury, and, with
the lords of Saragossa and Badajoz, at once acknowledged the suzerainty
of the Christian king. The vanguard of the latter soon appeared in the
territory of Seville, and the proud Motadhid, aware of the futility
of resistance, sued for peace. It was granted in consideration of
an enormous tribute and the delivery of the body of St. Justa, a
martyr whose sacrifice was alleged to date as far back as the Roman
domination. The bishops of Leon and Astorga were sent at the head of
an imposing embassy to receive the relics of the saint. Unfortunately,
these could not be identified, and the pious brethren, unwilling to
return empty handed, by means of a miraculous vision discovered and
obtained a far more valuable prize,--the body of St. Isidore, of
Seville. Motadhid affected great sorrow at being compelled to part with
such a treasure. With a view to future profit in the trade of similar
commodities, he reverentially threw over the bier a magnificent robe of
embroidered silk, and, much to the delight of the prelates, who saw
with undisguised astonishment the salutary effect produced on the mind
of an infidel by the mouldering bones of a Father of the Church, parted
from the escort at the gate of the city with many simulated expressions
of sorrow and a flood of hypocritical tears. Covering his face with his
mantle, his voice choked with sobs, this interesting example of royal
piety exclaimed, to the profound edification of the weeping bystanders:
“Farewell, Isidore! Farewell, most holy man! Thou knowest what a close
intimacy had always existed between us!”

With each year, with every season even, the Christian banners continued
to move steadily southward. The resources of the divided Moslem empire
could no longer oppose a concerted resistance to their advance. The
most powerful Moorish princes of the Peninsula were already the
tributaries of Ferdinand. Coimbra had been taken, and nearly all of
what is included within the limits of modern Portugal was in his
hands. Vast districts of the subjugated territory were systematically
depopulated by enforced emigration. The inhabitants of the captured
cities were in many instances also driven into exile, and where a
prolonged resistance had exasperated the conquerors, the lands, the
effects, and the seraglios of the wealthiest citizens were seized,
often in infringement of the terms of capitulation. Establishing
themselves in their new possessions, the rude cavaliers of Castile and
the Asturias carried the boisterous manners and brutal tastes of the
swineherd and the mountaineer into the splendid abodes of Moorish art
and luxury.

The states of Valencia and Malaga, owing to the political imbecility
of their rulers, had descended to a position greatly inferior to
that to which they were entitled by reason of their commercial and
agricultural resources. In the division of the khalifate, Valencia had
been retained by Abd-al-Aziz, the grandson of Al-Mansur, who, during
the subsequent disturbances, was the acknowledged head of the Amiride
faction. Gifted with rare talents for administration and command,
his indolence and love of pleasure counteracted these great natural
advantages, and his son, Abd-al-Melik, who succeeded him, possessed
all his indisposition to exertion, without his abilities. The city of
Valencia, invested by Ferdinand, proved too strong for his efforts, but
by a feigned retreat he lured the garrison and the citizens outside the
walls and into an ambuscade. The delightful climate of that province,
the garden of Andalusia, has never been propitious to the creation of a
race of warriors, and the effeminate Valencians, who had donned their
holiday attire in expectation of a triumph, expired almost without
resistance under the weapons of the Christian knights. Resuming the
siege, Ferdinand was attacked by illness, and soon after returned to
Leon to die. His adversary Motadhid, whose crafty and unscrupulous
policy had founded upon the ruins of the khalifate a kingdom more
imposing in its dimensions than remarkable for its military strength,
soon followed him to the grave.

Malaga, governed by the Edrisites, was long a centre of Berber
influence. Its lords, also enervated by the temptations of a tropical
climate, to the disgust of their martial followers, suffered their
lives to pass in inglorious ease until their domain was finally
absorbed by the growing power of Granada.

Attracted by the fame of a crusade, by the hope of eternal salvation,
and by the more immediate prospect of worldly advantage, crowds of
European adventurers now poured into the Peninsula. Among these a
body of Normans, under William de Montreuil, laid siege to Barbastro,
a populous frontier town of Aragon. Their valor eventually carried
the day, and after a gallant defence the place was surrendered under
articles of capitulation. Scarcely had the Normans entered, before
these were repudiated; the garrison was surrounded and killed; six
thousand of the citizens were massacred outside the walls, and the
remainder were doomed to slavery. The atrocities practised by these
Christian barbarians seem incredible. Such was the amount of booty,
that an inferior officer is said to have received as his share five
hundred loads of merchandise and fifteen hundred maidens. In the
general division, as was customary, the master with his household
and possessions were delivered to the fortunate soldier, who at once
proceeded, by ingenious tortures, to insult the distress of his victim
and inflict upon him exquisite pain in order to compel the discovery
of hidden treasure. The female members of his family were violated in
his presence. His body was plunged into boiling oil. He was hacked
with swords and battle-axes and his limbs were slowly wasted by fire.
The inhumanities which attended the capture of Barbastro are hardly
paralleled in any of the bloody annals which recount the crusading
exploits of Christian Europe.

During the period of universal anarchy that succeeded the disruption of
the khalifate, it is only the larger principalities which, either on
account of greater political influence or more advanced conditions of
civilization, are worthy of the notice of the historian. An innumerable
number of insignificant states arose upon the ruins of that splendid
monarchy. Every wali of a district, every governor of a city, aspired
to the pomp and consequence of an independent sovereign. A few of these
escaped the ruin which overwhelmed their less fortunate countrymen.
Others were conquered by the Andalusian princes. The domain of others
was forcibly incorporated into the fast-growing monarchy of Castile.
With all war was the rule and peace the exception. In the North,
the Africans, banished thither by the khalifs for their turbulence
and encouraged by the proximity of the Christians whose alliance had
often encouraged them to defy the edicts of the court of Cordova, had
long been practically independent. In the South, Berber adventurers,
incited by the success of Al-Mansur, indulged unmolested their natural
propensity to robbery and murder. In Valencia and Granada, the
Slaves, whose rapacity was under the early khalifs the reproach of
the government, predominated in numbers, wealth, and in influence. In
the provinces of Estremadura and the Algarves, the Arabs maintained
their ancient and hereditary pride and insubordination. None of these
factions were united under a single head. They were split up into a
score of bodies, acknowledging temporarily the authority of some petty
chieftain, and entertaining as much animosity against their neighbors
as they cherished towards their national enemies. The mutual jealousies
of these obscure rulers were sedulously inflamed by the politic
Christians, who never refused to promote, by supplies of men and money,
the quarrels which were constantly undermining the Moslem power in the
Peninsula.

Thus political demoralization, impelled both by internal discord and
foreign interference, went steadily on. National unity was unknown to
the Arabs, with whom the largest measure of personal liberty was the
rule of public as well as of private life. That principle of cohesion
which binds communities together by the ties of common interest was not
recognized in a society where each man considered he had an inalienable
right, based upon immemorial prescription and the traditions of the
Desert, to plunder his neighbor. Even the greatest of the Ommeyade
khalifs were hated by the people. Their lives were never safe. Their
persons were constantly guarded by armed foreigners,--Christian
Mamelukes, Berber mercenaries, African eunuchs. Fear alone maintained
their authority. Their subjects were ignorant of loyalty, patriotism,
public spirit, or national honor. The victories of these princes might
dazzle the populace. Their liberality might for the moment secure the
attachment of the army. The erection of magnificent houses of worship
might elicit the applause of the devout; but the possession of the most
noble qualities availed nothing in the hour of disaster. The prestige
of a distinguished name, the memory of splendid exploits, the sight
of grand architectural monuments, the omnipresent culture of a great
people, were trifles in the eyes of the Arab bent on blood-revenge,
or of the Berber savage with the prospect of the booty of a palace
like that of the Medina-al-Zahrâ before him. The rottenness of the
Moslem system was disclosed by the death of Al-Mansur. He was the most
illustrious captain who ever led the armies of Islam to battle. He was
the greatest potentate in Europe. In a quarter of a century of constant
warfare no reverses had ever diminished his popularity or tarnished
his renown. To all appearances, his power, nominally the power of the
khalifate, was established upon an enduring and impregnable basis.
Yet he was hardly in his grave before the imposing fabric of the
Moorish empire crumbled into dust, and with it disappeared forever the
grandeur, the glory, and the civilization of three hundred eventful
years.

CHAPTER XVII

WARS WITH THE CHRISTIANS, THE ALMORAVIDES

1044–1121

Dissensions in Castile--Alfonso the Guest of the Emir of
Toledo--Civilization of that Moorish Capital--Motamid, Prince of
Seville--His Prodigality---Valencia and Murcia become subject
to Mamun--Motamid takes Seville--Military Genius of Alfonso
VI.--The Famous Game of Chess--Siege of Toledo--Capitulation of
that City--Depredations of Bands of Outlaws--Danger and Distress
of the Moslems--Rise of the Almoravides--Their Fanaticism and
Prowess--They conquer Northern Africa--The Spanish Emirs appeal
to Yusuf--He crosses the Strait--Rout of the Christians at
Zallaca--Second Expedition of Yusuf--His Popularity--He claims
the Sovereignty of the Peninsula--The Cid: His Character and
His Exploits--He serves the Emir of Saragossa--He obtains
Control of Valencia--Revolt and Siege of that City--Cruelties
of the Cid--Death of Yusuf--Greatness of the Almoravide
Empire--Accession of Ali--Demoralization of the Conquerors.

The temporary union of the Christian powers under Ferdinand I., which
had so effectually demonstrated the weakness of the Moorish states
of the Peninsula and had conferred such distinction on the Castilian
arms, was followed by a series of domestic misfortunes culminating in
civil war, seriously threatening the stability of the newly founded
kingdom, and affording the Moslems an opportunity for recuperation
by which they unfortunately had no longer either the energy or the
capacity to profit. Ferdinand’s impolitic testamentary disposition of
his dominions among his children indicated an amiable weakness, which,
while it might be deserving of praise in a private individual, was
discreditable to the experience and political foresight of a sovereign.
With the public sanction of the nobles, his kingdom was divided into
three portions, of which his son Sancho received Castile and a part of
what is now Aragon; Alfonso, Leon and the Asturias; and Garcia, Galicia
and the Portuguese conquests. To his daughters, Urraca and Elvira, were
assigned respectively the cities of Zamora and Toro. As was inevitable,
ambition and discontent with this arrangement eventually produced
consequences fatal to the interests of the crown. Hostilities first
broke out between Sancho and Alfonso with indecisive results. Then
they mutually agreed to stake their kingdoms on the result of a single
battle. Fortune favored the cause of Alfonso, and, with a clemency
unusual in that age, his followers were not permitted even to pursue
the routed Castilians, who, by the conditions of the compact, had
become the subjects of the victor.

At this time first appears in history the name of a personage whose
exploits, for the most part fabulous, have acquired for him a renown
not inferior to that enjoyed by the demigods of antiquity,--Rodrigo
Diaz de Bivar, popularly known as the Cid and the Campeador. His
origin was illustrious, for he could trace his lineage to one of the
noblest houses of Castile, one of whose members more than a century
before had stood high in the councils of the nation, while his own
courage and address had been conspicuous in the contests recently
inaugurated by the rival aspirants for supremacy, as well as in
campaigns against the infidel. He was one of the most trusted adherents
of Sancho, and occupied the responsible position of second in command
in the Castilian army. His unprincipled adroitness now revived by an
outrageous violation of faith the desperate fortunes of his sovereign.
The soldiers of Sancho, no longer apprehensive of the carnage
usually consequent upon defeat, were soon again united under their
standards. At the suggestion of Rodrigo, the Leonese army was attacked
at daybreak; their camp was stormed; a dreadful massacre avenged the
disaster of the preceding day and punished the negligence unpardonable
in the vicinity of an enemy which had rendered such a catastrophe
possible. Alfonso fled to the neighboring cathedral of Carrion; but
the privilege of sanctuary was little considered in those times,
especially when it conflicted with important political interests; and
the King of Leon, having been seized, in defiance of the anathemas
of the clergy, at the very altar, was carried in chains to Burgos.
His life would have been sacrificed had he not unwillingly consented
to receive the tonsure and assume the monastic habit, an obligation
which, according to the institutions of the kingdom inherited from
the ancient Gothic polity, ever after incapacitated him from becoming
a candidate for the royal dignity. Becoming weary of the restraints
of conventual discipline, which were even more rigidly enforced than
usual owing to the peculiar circumstances of his novitiate, Alfonso
succeeded in eluding the vigilance of his holy brethren, and, passing
the frontier, was hospitably received by Mamun, the Moorish prince of
Toledo. In the course of time Sancho managed to deprive his remaining
brothers and sisters of their inheritance, with the single exception of
Urraca, who still held the strong city of Zamora. While reconnoitring
that fortress, he was surprised and killed by a cavalier who suddenly
issued from one of the gates. The Castilian nobles, duly assembled in
the Great Council of the kingdom, agreed to the election of Alfonso
on condition that he would make a solemn oath that the death of his
brother had not been instigated by his suggestions. Alfonso complied;
Rodrigo Diaz was chosen, as the most powerful subject, to receive the
political absolution of the monarch elect; and the latter, placing
his hands between those of the man to whom was wholly due his present
humiliation, publicly purged himself from all complicity in fratricide.
Public considerations, as well as the necessity of retaining the
support of a warrior of such redoubtable character, induced Alfonso not
long afterwards to give him in marriage Ximena, a daughter of one of
the most distinguished of the Asturian nobility.

The government of Alfonso VI. was characterized by reforms in every
part of the administration, by the reorganization of the tribunals
whose decrees had been long supplanted by the exactions and the
outrages of arbitrary violence, and by the general re-establishment of
order and security. The highways were thoroughly repaired and freed
alike from the rapacious impositions of the nobles and the plague of
brigandage. All offenders were treated with impartial justice. Neither
the wealth, the position, nor the former services of a violator of the
law could purchase exemption from punishment. Devoted to the Church,
while not untainted with the prevalent Pagan superstition which still
clung to spurious revelations of the future by the aid of astrology,
divination, and augury, Alfonso was noted for his scrupulous adherence
to the forms of worship and for his liberality to the ministers of
religion. During his residence at Toledo, the exiled prince, becoming
accustomed to the refined manners and superior civilization of the
Moors, did not fail to profit by his experience, and to adopt, to
some extent, institutions and customs so conducive to the material
and intellectual progress of a people. Mamun, whose court was one
of the most polished in the Peninsula, treated his royal guest with
every courtesy and attention which the most generous sympathy and
hospitality could dictate. He was lodged in the royal palace. A
numerous train of slaves was appointed to obey his most trifling
behests. He was provided with a seraglio of Moorish beauties for his
special delectation. The greatest deference was habitually shown to
him by the nobles, and he was permitted to share the intimacy of the
monarch; he participated in the martial amusements of the court and in
the excitements of the chase; he even received a command in the army,
and fought bravely by the side of his infidel companions against the
forces of hostile principalities. During all this time he was looking
forward to an opportunity to obtain possession of Toledo, famous from
the highest antiquity for its strength, its traditions, and the brave
but riotous character of its populace. Of the difficulties attending
such a project he was thoroughly aware. The place was believed to be
practically impregnable to assault. Castilian hyperbole declared that
“The Spaniards have drawn the meridian through that city because Adam
was the first King of Spain, and God placed the sun at the moment of
creation directly over that ancient stronghold.” Its natural advantages
for defence had been improved by the ingenuity and the resources of
many successive dynasties. Long anterior to the Punic occupation it
had been the seat of power. Its formidable situation had awakened
the astonishment of the Romans in the days of Pliny. The Visigoths
had rebuilt its walls and made it their capital, a distinction it
maintained over the charming Andalusian cities while that domination
endured. The Saracens had strengthened the fortifications and
embellished the suburbs with magnificent villas, pleasure-grounds,
and gardens. Under the rule of the Beni-Dhinun, Toledo contained a
larger and more thrifty population than it had ever before possessed.
Encircled, except on the north, by the waters of the Tagus, the
foundations of its walls stood more than a hundred feet above the level
of that rapid stream. An inaccessible precipice insured it against a
hostile attack from the direction of the river, while upon the land
side the great height and enormous solidity of the walls and towers
might well defy the efforts of a besieging army provided only with the
imperfect military appliances of antiquity.

The political influence and extensive trade enjoyed by the city of
Toledo as the capital of one of the great Moorish principalities were
eclipsed by the splendor displayed by its emirs in the royal residences
which were scattered through its environs. One of the most remarkable
of these was called, in the picturesque imagery of the Arabic tongue,
The Mansion of the Hours. It stood on the bank of the Tagus a short
distance west of the city, and was decorated with all the magnificence
and ingenuity of Moorish art. Its walls sparkled with mosaics and
gilded stuccoes. In its construction the rarest marbles were used with
lavish profusion. Fountains of exquisite proportions cooled its halls
and court-yards. In the largest of these was placed one of the most
curious pieces of hydraulic mechanism ever invented. It was a clepsydra
contrived by the famous astronomer Al-Zarkal, and consisted of two
basins or reservoirs supplied with water, whose quantity was regulated
exactly according to the phases of the moon. With the appearance of the
crescent on the horizon the water commenced to run into the reservoirs,
which it continued to do until the fourteenth day, when they were
filled, and then it gradually diminished in quantity until the
twenty-ninth day, when they were entirely empty. If at any time water
was added to or taken from these basins the amount was not affected;
the concealed mechanism, acting automatically, at once removed the
surplus or supplied the deficiency. The movement of the water was
accurately calculated according to the constantly varying inequality of
the days and nights,--at sunrise on the first day a twenty-eighth
part, and at sunset a fourteenth part, appeared. The inventive genius
requisite for the construction of a mechanism capable of producing such
extraordinary results may be readily imagined, if not appreciated,
by a non-scientific reader. This wonderful contrivance, whose fame,
embellished with many fabulous additions, extended to the limits of the
Peninsula, was mentioned with awe by the ignorant, who considered it
as a mysterious talisman to be attributed to the supernatural powers
of the genii and solely adapted to the unholy operations of magic. But
there is no question that the clepsydra of Al-Zarkal was constructed
for astronomical purposes, although at times it may have been diverted
from its original uses to aid in the calculations of the profane but
popular science of judicial astrology. The predilection of Mamun for
scientific investigations and for the society of highly educated men
was not unworthy of the most distinguished khalifs of the Ommeyade
dynasty. His intellectual tastes and munificent patronage reawakened
public interest in studies which had long been neglected amidst the
oppression of petty tyrants and the din of perpetual revolution. His
capital became one of the principal centres of Moorish culture, and
the conversation of the learned was the delight of a court renowned
far and wide for its civilization, its luxury, and the liberality and
accomplishments of its sovereign.

In the garden of another villa belonging to the Moorish kings of Toledo
was a pavilion built in the centre of an immense fountain. It was
approached by a subterranean passage. The sides and roof were covered
with glass of many hues relieved by gold and silver arabesques; the
floor was of exquisite mosaic. In the mid-day heat of summer the Emir,
accompanied by his favorite slaves, was accustomed to resort for his
siesta to this pavilion, which stood in a shady grove. As soon as the
royal train had entered, the building was completely enveloped with
the dashing spray of the fountain, the musical ripple of whose waters
soon lulled the occupants to sleep. A delicious coolness was obtained
by this simple but ingenious device, and the refraction of the drops
of water as they fell on the surface of the painted glass produced
all the iridescent and blending colors of the rainbow. The luxurious
appliances of the Arabs of Toledo, who were forced to contend with the
drawbacks of a rigorous and variable climate and an unproductive soil,
were far more creditable to their talents and industry than were those
of the Andalusians, who were aided to an extraordinary degree by the
advantages of situation and the prodigal gifts of nature. The banks of
the Tagus were dotted for miles with the country-seats of the Moorish
nobles and of the Jews, whose political and financial influence in the
society of the venerable city preceded even the Visigothic domination,
so that, when viewed from the commanding height of the walls, they
resembled a continuous garden stretching as far as the eye could reach.
Such was Moorish Toledo, a prize well worthy of the ambition of any
conqueror.

The prophesies of astrologers and charlatans had embittered the closing
hours of Motadhid, the tyrant of Seville. They found no encouragement
for the perpetuation of his dynasty in the mysterious ceremonies of
divination or the casting of horoscopes. The oracles of imposture,
prompted perhaps by the occurrences of the past century as well by the
inevitable tendency of African invasion towards the attractive shores
of Andalusia, had declared that the empire of the Beni-Abbad would be
conquered by warriors of foreign origin. The fears and the discernment
of Motadhid correctly attributed this allusion to the barbarians of
the Libyan Desert, now pouring with irresistible force over the entire
region of Northern Africa. And even if this prediction should fail,
there could be little doubt in his mind of the ultimate triumph of
the Christian arms. The empire which he had founded was held together
solely by the influence of terror. His vassals were ready to revolt at
the slightest prospect of political benefit. His dynasty was regarded
with contempt by the aristocracy and with execration by the populace.
The extent of his dominions instead of being a source of strength was
in reality only an indication of weakness. With all the artifices he
could employ, he had been compelled to purchase the forbearance of the
Castilian princes by an onerous and degrading tribute. It required
no great degree of penetration to discover that the end of the Arab
domination in the greater part of the Peninsula was at hand.

Motamid, who now ascended the throne of Seville, was not the ruler to
restore the fortunes or even to sustain the burdens of a tottering
monarchy. Endowed with excellent abilities, his inclinations led
rather to the refined enjoyments of a sedentary life than to the
responsibilities of government or to the hardships and perils of
a military career. From early youth he had evinced a passion for
literature. His faculties had been developed under the instruction
of the best scholars of the time, and, possessing unusual powers of
improvisation, he had made considerable progress in that art, prized
among his countrymen as an indication of the highest poetical genius.
Already intrusted with the conduct of important military enterprises,
none of which, however, were successful, his disastrous campaign at
Malaga sufficiently demonstrated his utter incapacity for command. The
society of women divided with the love of letters the domain of his
affections; a slave to female charms, he was helplessly subjected
to the imperious caprices of his favorites, who exercised over his
plastic mind a tyranny which admitted of no compromise and brooked
no contradiction. His chief sultana was Romaiquia, a slave purchased
from a master who exercised the respectable but plebeian calling of a
muleteer. In an accidental encounter she had enchanted him with her
quickness of repartee and her readiness in improvisation and poetical
dialogue, and, in accordance with a custom not infrequent among a
race with whom social rank is often subordinated to intellectual
accomplishments, he had made her the companion of his leisure and the
sharer of his throne. The minister of Motamid was Ibn-Ammar, whose
principal qualification for office in the eyes of his sovereign was
his devotion to the Muses. Under such conditions it is not surprising
that the affairs of the kingdom assumed a very different aspect from
that which they bore during the reign of the stern and merciless
Motadhid. The revenues decreased through the intentional neglect of
vassals to forward their tribute, and the dishonesty of collectors of
taxes who appropriated the bulk of the funds which had been amassed
by oppression. Robbers once more ruled the highways. Scarcely a night
passed without the pillage of a house or the murder of a citizen within
the walls of the capital, often under the very shadow of the palace.
Vast sums, whose judicious expenditure would have greatly contributed
to the comfort of the people and the security of the kingdom, were
bestowed upon foreign poets, whose ingratitude and impudence were far
more conspicuous than their talents, or squandered to indulge the whims
of rapacious and frivolous women. The army, upon whose discipline
everything depended, partook of the prevalent demoralization. The
officers neglected their duties. The soldiers supplied the frequent
deficiencies of their pay by the plunder of individuals known
to be obnoxious to the government or by the precarious gains of
half-concealed robbery. Thoughtful persons viewed with dismay the wild
disorder that reigned in every province and in every town; heard with
apprehension of the approach of the two great powers from the North and
the South, whose proximity boded ill to the interests of civilization;
and, sunk into despair, awaited in silent terror the final destruction
of the empire.

The various changes which were constantly affecting the political
complexion and mutual relations of the Moslem states of the Peninsula
had finally concentrated the Arab supremacy in the three kingdoms of
Granada, Toledo, and Seville. The encroachments of their formidable
neighbors, and the consciousness of their own weakness, had merged the
smaller principalities and cities, which had, for a brief and stormy
period, enjoyed the appearance of independent states, into the domain
of potentates who possessed the means as well as the inclination to
uphold their pretensions to sovereignty. Of these, Granada, protected
by her comparative isolation from the designs of her rivals, pursued
her career of aggrandizement disturbed only by occasional internal
commotions. Toledo, under the enlightened rule of the Beni-Dhinun,
eclipsed in the splendor of its court and the genius of its monarch
the reputation of all the other principalities. The enterprise of
the Toledan prince had recently acquired for his dominions a large
accession of valuable territory. A close alliance existed between him
and Alfonso VI., and numbers of Christian cavaliers served gallantly
under the Moslem standards. Valencia and its rich plantations fell
without resistance into the hands of Mamun. The provinces of Murcia
and Orihuela, teeming with exotic vegetation and abundant and multiple
harvests, after an invasion of a few weeks, yielded to the prowess
of the warriors of the North, and the garden of Eastern Spain was
added to the domain of the flourishing kingdom of Toledo. These easy
and profitable triumphs were far from satisfying the ambition of the
aggressive Mamun. His eyes were constantly fixed upon the venerated
capital of the khalifs, which, although deprived of its honors, its
wealth, and its magnificence, still retained a diminished portion of
the prestige it had formerly enjoyed, while its weakness tempted attack
and annexation.

Ibn-Djahwar, whose wisdom had so long directed the counsels of the
oligarchical commonwealth which had been founded on the ruins of the
khalifate, oppressed with the infirmities of age and declining health,
had resigned the conduct of affairs to his sons, Abd-al-Rahman and
Abd-al-Melik. To the former was committed the management of the civil
administration; the latter was invested with the command of the army.
The superior talents of Abd-al-Melik, aided by the support of the
military, gained for him the ascendant; but his despotic treatment of a
people who had enjoyed for a brief period the advantages of political
and individual liberty made him at the same time an object of universal
detestation. In the midst of the discontent and confusion arising
from the enforcement of his oppressive measures, Abd-al-Melik was
confounded by the approach of the enemy. The diligence of the Prince of
Toledo, prompted by secret intelligence conveyed by the disaffected,
had anticipated the military dispositions of his adversary, and he was
almost at the gates of Cordova before the latter received information
that he had passed the frontier. The condition was critical. The sons
of Ibn-Djahwar, far from inheriting the capacity of their father, had
wantonly undermined the foundations of his power. The old vizier,
Ibn-al-Sacca, who enjoyed the confidence of every class of citizens,
had been summarily executed under an unfounded accusation of treason.
His death, inexcusable in the eyes of the unprejudiced, had alienated
the attachment of a large and respectable portion of the community.
The popularity and veneration inspired by his love of justice and
the wisdom of his administration caused the retirement of many of
the most prominent and experienced officers of the army; while the
people, who regarded him with almost filial reverence on account of
his acts of benevolence, saw, with ominous murmurs, the efforts of
an inexperienced youth to secure for himself, without sanction of
law, public service, or personal sacrifice, the unlimited exercise
of arbitrary power. In his extremity, Abd-al-Melik appealed to his
neighbor Motamid, Emir of Seville. The latter responded with suspicious
alacrity. A formidable detachment of Sevillian troops was admitted into
the city; and the besiegers, unable to effect anything against such a
garrison, were obliged to retire after the incomplete gratification
of their malice by the pillage of the already wasted suburbs and the
destruction of a few scattered and insignificant settlements. But
while endeavoring to thwart the plans of a foreign enemy, the Prince,
whose incompetency was destined to accomplish the subjection of his
capital and the ruin of his family, had unconsciously exposed himself
to a more imminent and fatal peril. The officers of Motamid lost no
time in ingratiating themselves with the citizens of Cordova. They
lauded, with extravagant praises, the character of their own sovereign;
they incited the discontented and the ambitious to revolt; they
overcame with costly gifts and specious arguments the scruples and the
wavering allegiance of the hesitating; they aggravated, by appeals
to passion and prejudice, the evils produced by the abuse of power,
and pictured in glowing colors the present opportunity for a safe and
speedy deliverance. These representations were received with avidity
by the people of Cordova, who, after years of bloodshed and tyranny,
had lost none of their predisposition to rebellion. A conspiracy
was organized to transfer the city to Motamid. The negligence, the
stupidity, or the corruption of the government officials permitted
the arrangements essential to the success of the plot to be perfected
without interference, and probably without detection. While the
perfidious allies of Abd-al-Melik were drawn up in apparent preparation
for departure, a tumult arose among the inhabitants; the palace was
surrounded; the gates of the city were closed; and before the family
of Ibn-Djahwar was able to realize the peril of the situation, its
supremacy was overthrown and the imperial city of the khalifs had
acknowledged the jurisdiction of the princes of Seville. Elated by
the facility of his conquest, Motamid exhibited in the treatment of
his illustrious prisoners a generous and unusual clemency. He caused
them to be transported to the island of Saltes, where the comforts of
a pleasant and commodious habitation might indifferently replace the
cares, the disappointments, and the splendors of royalty.

The triumph of the Beni-Abbad was, however, of short duration. Mamun,
who determined to secure by stratagem what he could not gain by force,
enlisted the services of Ibn-Ocacha, a personage of considerable
abilities and unsavory reputation, who had, in a long career of
crime, successively exercised the congenial employments of assassin,
highwayman, and soldier of fortune. The government of Cordova had been
nominally committed to Abbad, heir-apparent of the royal house of
Seville; but the power in reality was vested in Mohammed, an officer
whose distinguished merit in the profession of arms was obscured by
the vices of brutality, licentiousness, perfidy, and avarice. His
conduct provoked the resentment of the people, a feeling which even the
amiable qualities of Abbad were insufficient to counteract; and the
suggestions of Ibn-Ocacha found a ready acceptance among a population
whose inclination to sedition, transmitted through many generations of
revolutionists, had become hereditary and habitual. In the midst of
a terrible storm, and in the dead of night, Ibn-Ocacha, with a band
of outlaws and desperadoes, was admitted by his fellow-conspirators
into the fortifications of Cordova. As they approached the palace of
the governor the alarm was given, and Abbad, half clad and without
his armor, at the head of a few attendants, bravely confronted the
assailants who sought his life. A desperate conflict followed; the
valor of the prince aroused the fear of his ferocious enemies; they
began to waver; when he lost his footing upon the pavement, slippery
with blood, and fell prostrate, to be instantly pierced with a score
of weapons. At daybreak, his head having been raised upon a pike, the
soldiers took to ignominious flight; the fickle multitude greeted with
execrations the features they had so recently admired; the aristocracy
and the merchants embraced a cause which might afford protection to
their persons and their estates; and, Ibn-Ocacha having convoked
the citizens in the mosque of Abd-al-Rahman, the vast assemblage
proclaimed, with vociferous but hollow acclamations, their doubtful
allegiance to the Emir of Toledo. Intelligence of the success of the
enterprise having been communicated to Mamun, he at once repaired
to the scene of his final triumph, the famous city so indissolubly
associated with the glories and the misfortunes of the Moorish empire.
He was hailed as a deliverer by the people that crowded the streets,
whose fidelity had been so often tested and so often found wanting as
to have passed into a proverb. Ibn-Ocacha received the rewards due
to the distinguished services he had rendered, but the high-spirited
Mamun shrank from daily contact with a notorious criminal, and his soul
revolted at the insolent familiarity of an assassin whose hands had
been unnecessarily stained with royal blood. His feelings could not
be concealed from the object of his contempt; in an unguarded moment
he suffered an expression of ominous significance to escape him; and,
while planning the sacrifice of a tool whose existence must eventually
jeopardize his interests, his designs were frustrated by the vigilance
of his enemy, and the prince who had issued unscathed from the exposure
of a hundred battles perished miserably by poison.

The occupation of Cordova was the signal for unremitting hostilities by
the Emir of Seville. Over his proud and sensitive nature the sentiments
of indignation, sorrow, and disappointment alternately held sway. The
entire resources of his kingdom, the skill of his bravest generals, the
valor of Christian mercenaries, the encouragement of his own presence,
were, during three years, employed for the recovery of the city. The
persevering vengeance of Motamid was at last crowned with success;
the venerable metropolis of the West once more endured the savage
excesses of a licentious soldiery; and the Toledan garrison expiated by
a shocking massacre its attachment to its latest sovereign. The death
of Ibn-Ocacha, who was crucified head downward, in company with a dog,
before the principal gate of Cordova, appeased in some measure the
fierce resentment of the devoted father of Abbad, while the subsequent
conquest of the territory between the Guadiana and the Guadalquivir
signally rebuked the presumptuous ambition of the King of Toledo.

The genius of Alfonso VI. had with each year of his reign cemented the
foundations and expanded the resources of the Christian power. After
the overthrow of his brethren no domestic rivals remained to dispute
his authority. His frequent expeditions against the Moslems exercised
the valor of the troops in frequent campaigns, gratified the prejudices
of the clergy by the prosecution of a crusade, and stimulated the
ruling passion of both of these castes by the judicious distribution of
the rich spoils of the Moslem. Never since the time of the Goths had
the influence of the Christians been of such extent and importance.
Their dominions already embraced no inconsiderable portion of the
Peninsula. Their conquests began to assume the aspect of permanent
acquisitions. The great principalities of Seville and Toledo were
tributaries of the King of Castile, but their regular and involuntary
contributions were not always sufficient to ward off invasion. Upon
the smallest pretext, and often absolutely without provocation, the
mailed chivalry of the North swept like a devastating torrent the
plains of the Tagus and the Guadalquivir. The obligation of immunity
implied by the annual delivery of tribute was seldom observed by the
adroit exponents of Christian casuistry. Already had appeared the germ
of that maxim, afterwards so popular and lucrative, that no contract
was binding when made with an infidel. The treasures transmitted by
the Moors each year to the court of Castile, and which were apparently
collected without inconvenience or effort, stimulated the cupidity
and ambition of the monarch, and deeply impressed his impoverished
subjects with the fabulous wealth and inexhaustible resources of the
diminished but still opulent provinces of the once prosperous Moslem
empire. The immediate occupation of these provinces was merely a
question of political expediency. Their ultimate absorption by the
Christian monarchy was no longer doubtful. The determination of the
problem rested with the sovereign, who, by this time, had concluded
to substitute for the capricious predatory excursions, constantly
undertaken in contravention of the faith of solemn engagements and
in defiance of the most obvious principles of justice, the regular
operations of an organized campaign. The first demonstration was made
against Seville. At the head of the largest Christian army which
had ever invaded Andalusia, Alfonso VI. appeared before the gates
of the capital. The city was thrown into consternation. No adequate
means of defence were available, for the constitutional negligence of
Motamid--who, besides, naturally presumed that the position of vassal
would insure his security--had abandoned the supervision of military
precautions for the diversions of midnight banquets and literary
assemblies. By the ingenuity of Ibn-Amman, however, the impending
catastrophe was prevented, and a respite afforded the terrified
citizens, who anticipated with just dismay the savage license of
their enemies. The stratagem by which this was accomplished, although
in perfect harmony with the character and the customs of a romantic
age, seems hardly credible when contrasted with the present prosaic
negotiations of contracting powers. Among the amusements that were
popular with the princes of Spain, both Moorish and Christian, was the
game of chess, which the Arabs had brought from India. This diversion
was a favorite one with Motamid, and he possessed a chess-board which,
made by the most accomplished artificers of the kingdom, was the
wonder of the court. The board itself was constructed of many pieces
of sandal and other costly woods, embellished with exquisite gold and
silver arabesques and glittering with gems. The squares were of ivory
and ebony, the men of the same materials, carved with marvellous skill
and mounted in solid gold. This beautiful toy Ibn-Ammar determined to
use as the instrument for the salvation of his country. Carrying it
under his robes, he visited the Christian encampment, and having, as
if undesignedly, permitted some of the Castilian knights to examine
it, awaited the effect of this exhibition upon the curiosity of the
King. The latter, who was devoted to the game and was an excellent
player, challenged Ibn-Ammar, who himself had no superior in Cordova,
to contend with him in this the most fascinating pastime of royalty.
The wily vizier consented, with the understanding that if Alfonso
prevailed he should receive the chess-board, but if not, that he
should grant the first request his successful opponent should demand
of him. The discernment of the King led him to at once reject this
insidious proposal, and Ibn-Ammar retired to his tent. The spirit of
the minister was not discouraged by his apparent failure; he quietly
secured the co-operation of some of the most influential nobles of the
court by the bestowal of treasure with which he was amply provided
with a view to just such an emergency. The plausible presentations
of these powerful allies soon overcame the fears of the monarch, and
an insignificant plaything was deposited as the prize of the winner
against the magnificent stake of an empire. The tact of the Moslem
procured the appointment as judges of those nobles already purchased
with his gold. The game proceeded; Alfonso proved no match for his
practised opponent, who, when the time arrived to announce his request,
demanded the unconditional evacuation of Andalusia by the Christian
army. The mortification of the King at this unexpected demand may be
imagined, and, in a moment of anger, he even meditated the violation
of his royal word; but the efforts of the courtiers, and the tender
of a double tribute willingly contributed by the government of
Seville, appeased his vexation, and he relinquished with reluctance
the splendid prize already within his grasp. Thus, by the shrewdness
and cunning of a statesman, whose act has no parallel in the annals
of diplomacy, the matured plans of an able sovereign were foiled; a
national calamity was averted; and means were even provided for the
further aggrandizement of a territory whose effeminate government and
demoralized condition had invited the attack of a formidable invader.
Not only Seville, but not improbably the other states of Andalusia and
of Eastern Spain as well, were saved by the ruse of Ibn-Ammar, and the
end of the death-struggle between Christian and Moslem in the Peninsula
was protracted for more than four hundred years. The military genius of
Alfonso, the distinction and experience he had gained in a long series
of victorious campaigns, the tested valor of a numerous army excited by
the spirit of military emulation, and the blind fury of religious zeal
constantly inflamed by fanatics, justify the presumption that the fall
of Seville would have soon been followed by the subjection of every
other Moslem state, and that, upon apparently so insignificant a thing
as a game of chess, once depended the existence and the destinies of
the Hispano-Arab domination. The obligation due to the ingenuity and
perseverance of Ibn-Ammar may be appreciated when it is recalled that a
hundred and sixty-three years elapsed after the retirement of Alfonso
from the walls of Seville before that city passed into the hands of
the Christians, and that it was more than three centuries after that
event when, by the surrender of Granada, the Moorish dominion in the
Peninsula was finally terminated.

Thwarted in the enterprise upon which he had founded so many ambitious
hopes, Alfonso now directed his attention to Toledo. That principality,
raised to such eminence by the genius of Mamun, had since the death
of that monarch greatly declined in power and prestige. His son and
successor, Kadir, inherited none of the talents or the energy of his
illustrious father. Of effeminate tastes and luxurious habits, he
was the tool of astrologers, women, and eunuchs. The peace of the
palace was disturbed by the incessant quarrels of these rapacious and
vindictive parasites. Their disputes consumed the time usually devoted
by the councils of princes to the discussion of important questions
of state policy; and a contest for precedence in some idle ceremonial
or the ignominious competition for a bribe attracted more attention
at the court of Toledo than the imposition of a tax or the defence
of a city. The most trivial employment, the most frivolous pastime,
was not undertaken without a solemn consultation with charlatans. The
relative positions of the planets were carefully ascertained before
the departure of expeditions of pleasure, and the daily movements
of the court were determined by the benign or malignant aspect of
the stars. In an age of martial exploits, a prince who countenanced
such impostures, and was not endowed with the redeeming qualities of
personal courage or military ambition, could not retain the respect of
his contemporaries. The boundaries of his dominions contracted year
by year. Murcia was taken by the troops of Motamid. Valencia again
declared and for a time maintained her independence. The districts on
the borders of Portugal, comprising a part of what is now included
in the province of Estremadura, were appropriated by Alfonso, who
was no longer bound by the obligations of friendship contracted
with his ancient host and protector Mamun. The internal affairs of
the kingdom of Toledo were in dire confusion. The exactions of the
government finally became intolerable. Kadir and his swarm of eunuchs
and astrologers were expelled from the city; a provisional government
was established; and the rebellious citizens placed themselves under
the protection of the Emir of Badajoz. In his extremity, the terrified
and superstitious prince applied to his powerful suzerain, the King of
Castile. But the latter was not willing to undertake such an invidious
task without the previous assurance of some tangible advantage. He
required the delivery of all the treasure that Kadir had succeeded in
bringing away from Toledo, which included vessels and plate of immense
value, as well as many thousand pieces of gold, and the surrender of
the most important castles which still acknowledged his authority.
The desperate circumstances of the dethroned ruler admitted of no
temporizing. A sullen but unconditional acquiescence followed the
exorbitant demands of Alfonso, and the treasure was conveyed by slaves
to the palace at Burgos. The soldiers of Castile and Leon were then
introduced into the citadels of the frontier; and the degenerate son of
Mamun, who had already lost his capital, now saw himself about to be
deprived of the remainder of his inheritance. Aware of the hopelessness
of an attempt to reduce such a fortress as Toledo by means of mining
or escalade, the Castilian sovereign resolved to try the tedious but
more certain operation of famine. The walls were consequently invested;
all avenues of supply were blockaded; and the beautiful valley of the
Tagus was denuded of its orchards and its harvests. By a refinement of
policy suggested by the peculiar relations existing between the crown
of Castile and the Moorish governments of Andalusia, Alfonso adopted
the profitable expedient of utilizing the Moslems as instruments of
their own destruction. At regular intervals fiscal messengers were
despatched to the capitals of the independent municipalities, and the
sums thus collected defrayed the expenses of the siege of Toledo. So
indispensable, indeed, were these contributions that without their aid
no campaign of any length could, during the period under discussion,
have been successfully prosecuted by the Christian monarchs of Spain.
The revenues of states whose soil and climate were unfavorable to
the operations of agriculture, and which were inhabited by a people
constantly engaged in warfare, hardly sufficed to maintain the royal
establishment, even in time of peace. The booty derived from predatory
expeditions, although often of great value, was usually apportioned
among the victorious soldiery in the field of battle, and was at once
dissipated by the notorious improvidence of its recipients, while the
uncertainty of its amount and the difficulty with which it was obtained
rendered this source of supply unavailable for the pressing exigencies
of the public service. Thus it may be seen how opportune was the
regular income of Moorish gold which sustained for years the precarious
fortunes of the Castilian monarchy, and by whose aid the vassals of the
same suzerain were induced involuntarily to compass each other’s ruin.
Familiarity with the use of such an invaluable expedient soon suggested
various methods of improving its efficiency. The stipulated amount of
the tribute was doubled. Extraordinary contributions were occasionally
levied under the name of “gifts,” a species of extortion centuries
afterwards adopted by the arbitrary sovereigns of civilized Europe as a
convenient means of refilling a depleted treasury. In these financial
transactions, the agency of Hebrews, whose heterodox opinions were not
openly condemned so long as their unscrupulous schemes could be made
to enure to the profit of the state, were exclusively employed. The
arrogance of these emissaries, who exaggerated the importance of their
trust, and, emboldened by their influence with the monarch, made no
effort to disguise their power, was often intolerable. During the siege
of Toledo, the Jew Ben-Kalib was sent with a small retinue by Alfonso
to collect the tribute of Seville. When the money was tested, it was
found to have been alloyed with baser metal. The vizier of Motamid, who
had delivered it, was summoned to the camp of the embassy. As soon as
he arrived, the fury of Ben-Kalib prevailed over his discretion, and he
exclaimed, “How dare you try to impose upon me with these counterfeits?
I will not depart until after you have furnished me with coin of the
stipulated weight and value, and next year I shall exact the tribute
of my master in cities, not in gold!” This insolence was immediately
reported to Motamid; the Christian envoys paid for the imprudent
conduct of their comrade with imprisonment; and Ben-Kalib, realizing
when too late the fatal error he had committed, after having offered
in vain his weight in gold as a ransom, was crucified like the most
degraded malefactor.

The rage of the King of Castile when he heard of the treatment of his
ambassadors knew no bounds. The survivors were ransomed by the delivery
of the castle of Almodovar; and then Alfonso, leaving behind him a
sufficient force to blockade Toledo, carried fire and sword through the
dominions of Motamid to the very shores of the Mediterranean.

There is nothing so indicative of the helpless condition of the Moslems
in these wars as their evident inability to obstruct the progress or
harass the movements of an invading army. They seem to have trusted
solely to the defences of their strongholds. The plantations, the
peasantry, the flocks, and the harvests were precipitately abandoned
to the enemy. Not a vestige remained of that ancient spirit which had
repelled the martial chivalry of Europe in many sanguinary encounters,
which had planted the Moslem standards in the plains of Central France,
on the mountains of Sardinia, on the banks of the Po and the Tiber, on
the towers of Palermo and Syracuse, on the ruined walls of Narbonne and
Santiago.

His vengeance for the moment satiated, Alfonso returned to the siege of
Toledo. The continuous investment of seven years’ duration had almost
exhausted the resources, and had entirely shaken the resolution, of
the inhabitants of that proud and rebellious city. They now consented
to make terms with their exiled sovereign, and Kadir, followed by his
greedy train of eunuchs and conjurers, was again permitted to ascend
the throne of his ancestors. The price exacted for this restoration by
his allies made it, however, a costly triumph. The exorbitant demands
of Alfonso impoverished the treasury and appropriated the most valuable
domain of the once splendid inheritance of the princes of Toledo. All
of his own portable possessions, together with the vast wealth amassed
by his family, were laid at the feet of his rapacious ally. But even
this did not satisfy the King of Castile, who, in pursuance of the
astute policy which had hitherto proved so successful, had adopted a
safer and a less expensive mode of conquest than a direct appeal to
arms. The fortresses which had been transferred to the Christians as
security were appropriated, nominally to defray the expenses of the
war. Others were demanded and given up, until little remained to Kadir
but a comparatively small extent of territory, which had been ravaged
alternately by both Christian and Moslem armies, and the perilous
jurisdiction of a discontented and turbulent capital. Deprived of
his revenues and almost without means of subsistence, Kadir had now
no resource to employ for the maintenance of his household and his
dignity but the oppression of his subjects. The people, however,
were not willing to longer endure the exactions of a frivolous and
tyrannical master, and sought in the neighboring states an asylum from
persecution. Some fled to the fertile and hospitable regions of the
South,--to Seville, Granada, Malaga. Others settled in the kingdom of
Saragossa. Many of those who remained, stripped of all their property
and unable to procure food for their families, died of hunger. Once
populous districts were entirely deserted. Towns of considerable size
were abandoned to ruin; not a living thing was to be seen in the empty
streets; and among the decaying habitations everywhere prevailed the
awful and impressive silence of the tomb. In the presence of the public
distress, the regular payment of tribute was inexorably enforced by
Alfonso. The inability of Kadir to respond to the demand precipitated
the seizure of his remaining estates, which, since his restoration,
he had only held by the sufferance of his Christian neighbors. Unable
longer to maintain his failing power, he opened negotiations looking
to the surrender of his capital. The conditions imposed and accepted
were such as, while extremely favorable to the Moslems, could be
readily conceded by the magnanimous spirit of Alfonso. The privileges
of unmolested residence, of the enjoyment of property, of the practice
of religious rites, were granted to the Toledans; and they were also
permitted to retain the services of their own magistrates and to be
subject to the operation of their own laws. The tribute to the new
sovereign was fixed at the same amount which had been payable to the
old in accordance with the legal tax of the Mussulman code. The grand
mosque was to be forever inviolate and solely devoted to the worship
of Islam. The fortifications, the public works, the royal palace and
gardens, were to become the property of the Castilian crown. A private
article closely affecting the political fortunes of the King of Toledo
was one of the important provisions of the treaty. It stipulated that
the latter was, as soon as practicable, to be placed on the throne of
Valencia, even if the entire power of the Christian monarchy should
be required to carry it into effect. The last hours of Kadir in his
lost capital were passed in consultation with astrologers to determine
the most auspicious moment for his departure. His ludicrous distress
aroused the ridicule and amazement of all who beheld him as, carrying
an astrolabe, he rode slowly out of the gate at the head of his escort.
Great numbers of Moslems in a short time abandoned their homes on
account of the open and unrebuked violation of the compact which had
conferred upon them the exercise of their religion and the enjoyment of
their ancient privileges.

As soon as the treaty was signed, the King of Castile entered the city,
followed by an imposing train of ecclesiastics and cavaliers. All the
pomp of the Christian hierarchy, all the barbaric luxury of the Spanish
nobles, were displayed on this occasion of triumph, an occasion which
portended the speedy overthrow of the Moorish sovereignty in the North.
The prelates, attired in their official vestments, bore aloft the
crosses and the sacred vessels once the property of the Gothic clergy
of imperial Toledo. These, rescued from the polluting grasp of the
Saracen and preserved for nearly four hundred years in the inaccessible
depths of the Asturias, were now to be restored to their altars, a
convincing proof of the truth of the gospel and of the justice and
power of the Christian God. Behind the ecclesiastical dignitaries
came the nobles, many of them descendants of families that had once
inhabited the palaces of the Visigothic capital,--the ancestors of the
most illustrious houses of the Spanish monarchy. The rear was closed by
the ladies of the court, guarded by a detachment of the Castilian army.

Affairs having been settled in Toledo, a large force was sent to
Valencia to secure that rich kingdom through the instrumentality of
Kadir. The co-operation of a faction friendly to the Prince of Toledo
facilitated the occupation of the capital, and the provinces soon
followed its example. But the majority of the people detested their
new ruler, who incurred all the odium of an intruder and possessed
none of the dazzling qualities which usually attach to the character
of a conqueror. The country groaned under the impositions exacted by
the maintenance of a host of half-savage Castilians. Their pay and
rations absorbed each day the great sum of six hundred pieces of gold.
To meet this extraordinary demand, heavy taxes were levied; the rich
were plundered; and the license of the soldiers, who respected neither
the laws of military discipline nor the rites of hospitality, was, of
necessity, ignored. Then, as a compromise, these troublesome guests
were established on lands in the fertile valley of the Segura, which
had been depopulated by the accidents and calamities of war. But this
experiment proved unsatisfactory. The plantations were consigned by
their owners to the labors and the supervision of slaves; while the
adjacent territory was vexed by the incursions of bold riders who,
in the exercise of their rapacious instincts, made no discrimination
between friend and foe. The prevalence of factious disorder, the
absence of recognized authority, and the consequent immunity enjoyed
by outlaws of every description caused the profession of brigandage
to be regarded as the most popular and lucrative of employments. The
numbers and invincible reputation of the Castilians soon made their
camp the asylum of every fugitive from justice, proscribed rebel, and
religious apostate in Southeastern Spain. Thoroughly demoralized by
such associations, the soldiers of Kadir, prompted by their infamous
recruits, openly assumed the profession of banditti and became the
scourge of the kingdom. They stripped travellers. They extorted
immense ransoms from the wealthy residents of cities. They quartered
themselves on the citizens, and violated the chastity of the female
members of their households. They mutilated their victims in ways
that forbid description. No rank, no creed, was exempt from their
murderous brutality. The noble was beaten to reveal the whereabouts of
his treasures. The peasant, whether Moslem or Christian, was seized
and sold as a slave. A handful of copper, a measure of wine, a loaf
of bread, or a pound of fish was sufficient to purchase one of these
unfortunates. Those who were unsalable on account of age or physical
infirmity were made the objects of ingenious and protracted tortures;
they were blinded by fire; their flesh was pierced with red-hot irons;
their tongues were cut out; or they were thrown to famished and
infuriated dogs.

At this time, throughout the Peninsula, the isolated remains of Moslem
power seemed about to yield to Christian supremacy. The prestige of
the kingdom of Castile, under the guidance of an adroit and valiant
monarch, daily increased. Toledo had fallen. Saragossa was besieged
by a powerful army. The Castilians had established themselves at many
points in the heart of the enemy’s country. The principality of Almeria
was incessantly harassed by the expeditions of a predatory band which
had seized the town of Aledo. Valencia was practically dominated by the
subjects of Alfonso. The Christians of Granada regularly communicated
with their brethren domiciled in the neighboring kingdoms, and, as the
result of this intercourse, a small troop of adventurous cavaliers had
penetrated to a point within a few miles of that city. The prowess
of the Christian knight was so dreaded that his very appearance was
able to put to flight a score of Moslems. In this age of transition
between the historic achievements of the khalifate and the martial
exploits which distinguished the Conquest of Granada, Moorish loyalty
and courage were but a reminiscence. The ultimate destiny of the
Hispano-Arab states of Spain--a destiny which implied destruction and
servitude--was obvious and inevitable. The most fortunate of them was
no longer able to preserve a condition of even nominal and ambiguous
independence. The haughtiest of their princes were mere vassals, whose
domains were held by an arbitrary and precarious tenure. There was
no longer a possibility either of concerted action or of successful
individual exertion among these mutually jealous and disorganized
communities. North of the Sierra Morena, south of the Strait of
Gibraltar, two great powers, equal in valor, distinct in nationality,
antagonistic in religion, urged on alike by the fierce passions of
fanaticism and avarice, were fast converging to a common centre,--the
smiling plains of Andalusia. It was no longer a question whether the
disrupted remains of the khalifate were to be Edrisite, Slave, or
Amiride. The choice was now to be made between two masters, and it must
be speedily determined whether Spain was to become Berber or Castilian.

The emergency admitted of no delay. So pressing indeed was it, that a
national and universal emigration was seriously discussed. Any evil was
deemed preferable to the persecutions and outrages of the Christian
soldiery. Since his occupation of Toledo, the military operations of
Alfonso had evinced a wider and more portentous activity. His resources
had been materially augmented. His army was almost doubled by the
foreign mercenaries and adventurers who flocked to his standard. His
arrogance increased in a direct ratio to his territorial acquisitions.
He assumed the title of emperor, which had no foundation but his
own inordinate vanity. He adopted the grandiloquent appellation of
Sovereign of the Men of Two Religions, a title whose absurdity was the
more apparent inasmuch as his orthodoxy was seriously questioned and
his intolerance of the dogmas of Mohammed notorious and proverbial.
He at all times made no secret of his intention to place the Moorish
provinces of the Peninsula under the Castilian sceptre as soon as his
martial preparations had been completed.

To understand the course of subsequent events, it is now necessary
to turn to the continent of Africa, where an ominous political and
religious revolution had obliterated the boundaries of great nations
and changed the face and the conditions of society.

In the Desert of Sahara, south of ancient Numidia, there existed from
time immemorial a race of nomadic warriors who traced a doubtful
genealogy to the inhabitants of Yemen, in Arabia. The western part
of the Desert was inhabited by the Lamtounah, a division of this
race, affiliated by ties of tribal connection and intimacy with the
Sanhadjah, who, from the time of the conquest of Musa, had been
prominent in the wars and seditions of Al-Maghreb and Spain. The
Lamtounah, with their kindred, belonged to the Berber nation, and
pursued the primitive avocations of a pastoral life. In addition
to their flocks, they maintained large numbers of ostriches and
camels, which constituted the bulk of their movable possessions.
Their food was camel’s flesh and milk; the barren sands of the Desert
afforded no encouragement to the operations of agriculture, and the
tribes of the Sahara were wholly unacquainted with the culture and
the enjoyment of the products of the soil. The seclusion of their
country, rarely penetrated by traders, who could find among such an
uncivilized people few objects of barter, kept them in ignorance of
the most ordinary commodities of life; of its luxuries they had no
conception; and when, at rare intervals, a loaf of bread came into
their hands through the medium of some generous traveller, it was
regarded as a great curiosity. These nomads differed both in mental
and physical characteristics from their neighbors. They were more
fierce, more haughty, more brave. Their religion was idolatrous,
slightly veneered with a spurious and corrupt Islamism; for, although
the principal maxims of the Mussulman faith were not unfamiliar to
the most intelligent, the great mass of the population knew little
and cared less about the mission and the precepts of the Prophet of
Mecca. The Lamtounah were tall and handsome, the men being models of
strength and symmetry, while the women possessed unusual charms of
person and manner. The swarthy complexion ordinarily associated with
the inhabitants of Africa was absent from the Berbers of the Sahara,
whose skins, where not exposed to the scorching rays of the sun,
were as white as that of any European. Their garments were of blue
and striped cotton or of the tanned hide of the antelope. A terrible
and mysterious aspect was imparted to their faces by the practice of
covering them below the eyes with a pendent cloth, which, like a veil,
protected the features and the respiration of the wearer from the heat
and the sand-storms of the Desert. Their sandals were of black leather,
attached to the foot by scarlet fastenings curiously embroidered with
gold. Of their weapons,--identical with those used so effectively by
the Numidian horsemen of Sallust,--the lance and the javelin were the
most commonly employed; the scimetar and the poniard were reserved
for the emergencies of a hand-to-hand encounter. The courage of these
barbarians was proverbial from the highest antiquity; their subjugation
had never been seriously attempted by any conqueror; they had defied
the power of Carthage, repulsed the desultory attacks of the Arabs, and
confronted with inflexible resolution the arms and the discipline of
the Roman legions under both the Consuls and the Emperors.

A certain chieftain, Yahya-Ibn-Ibrahim, belonging to the tribe of
Djidala, a subdivision of the Lamtounah, and a zealous but ignorant
Moslem, performed, through motives of curiosity and devotion, about the
year 1036, the pilgrimage to the Holy Cities of Arabia enjoined upon
his sect, but rare among his countrymen. The simple pilgrim, to whom
the world outside of the limited area of the Desert was even by report
wholly unknown, was astonished and delighted with the revelations and
experiences of civilized life. While on his return, he attended the
lectures of a learned and celebrated theologian and scholar, named
Abu-Amram, whose eloquence daily attracted great audiences in the court
of the principal mosque of Kairoan. The enraptured attention of the
new disciple awakened the curiosity of the lecturer; he inquired the
nationality, the sect, and the tribe of the attentive auditor; and
learned with surprise and regret of the religious ignorance of the
countrymen of the latter, whose credulity and favorable disposition
seemed, on the other hand, to promise an easy and enduring conversion.
Inspired by the fervent zeal of a proselyte, Yahya requested of his
teacher that one of his followers might be selected to accompany
him to expound to the benighted tribes of the Sahara the doctrines
and the duties of Islam. The proposal was made to the assembly; but
the perils of the journey and the uncertainty of its issue caused
even the most zealous to hesitate; while the exaggerated ferocity
of the Berbers, to whom the most shocking cruelties were popularly
attributed, caused the students of Kairoan to shrink from exposure to
the sufferings and glories of voluntary martyrdom. But in the distant
province of Sus-al-Aksa, where Yahya repaired under the instructions
of Abu-Amram, a missionary was found who signified his willingness to
penetrate the unknown region, at the risk of liberty and life and to
brave the prejudices of a race of savages, for the sake of imparting
the sacred instructions of the Koran. The name of this zealot was
Abdallah-Ibn-Jahsim. Possessed of great erudition, an eloquent orator,
a practised controversialist, he was, in all respects, admirably
qualified for the task he had undertaken. His familiarity with the
various dialects of the Berber tongue and his knowledge of human nature
obtained by travel in many lands, combined with a graceful address and
winning manners, at once gained for him the attention and the esteem
of his new associates. His discourses were listened to with mingled
curiosity and veneration. His disciples multiplied by thousands. The
most influential chieftains were charmed by his eloquence; and the
fame of the accomplished messenger of Islam soon extended from the
Mediterranean and the Atlantic to the outermost limits of the Desert.
His calling, and the amazing success with which it was prosecuted
among a people naturally credulous, were not long in investing him
with mysterious and supernatural attributes; the intimate association
of divine inspiration and royal authority always existing in the minds
of the nomads of Africa and Asia raised him still higher in the public
estimation; while the voluntary allegiance of tribal dignitaries,
and the fanatical devotion of multitudes of proselytes, heralded the
foundation of a new spiritual and temporal empire.

The example of his Prophet could not fail, under the circumstances,
to suggest to the mind of the reformer the most flattering dreams
of ambition. By every expedient of political ingenuity he tightened
his grasp upon the superstitious myriads who already adored him. His
rigid austerities edified the devout. The simplicity of his attire,
the plainness of his table, and the regularity of his habits served
to effectually disguise the lofty aspirations which he cherished
in secret. He boldly assumed the hazardous authority of appointing
the sheiks of the various tribes, an office heretofore elective and
jealously guarded by the barbarians as an essential indication and
guaranty of independence. He aroused the cupidity and fanaticism of his
auditors by enumerating the spoils to be obtained from the infidel, by
representing the merits of perpetual warfare, and by delineating, with
all the embellishments of Oriental hyperbole, the sensual pleasures of
the Mohammedan paradise. At length the desired consolidation of the
tribes of the Desert was complete. The portentous union of implicit
faith and unhesitating obedience had been accomplished; and, for
hundreds of leagues throughout the Sahara, hosts of redoubtable and
eager warriors impatiently awaited the signal for action. Their numbers
were enormous. Their fanaticism was blind, furious, irresistible. Their
strength and dexterity were so great that it was a trifling feat for
one of them to completely transfix a horse with a lance or to cleave
his rider to the saddle with a single blow of the scimetar. With such
potent auxiliaries it was not impossible to conquer a world.

The denizens of the Atlas were the first to experience the power of
the newly-organized empire. The courage of these mountaineers and
the natural defences of their country had enabled them to repulse
the cavalry of Musa, and that skilful general had been compelled to
tolerate the presumption of a race which the experience of military
commanders had for centuries pronounced invincible. But the mountain
tribes were unable to sustain their well-merited reputation in the
face of the followers of Abdallah. They were driven from the plains.
Their haunts were invaded, and fastnesses heretofore considered
inaccessible were penetrated by the swarming legions of the Desert.
Their flocks were swept away. Their families were borne into slavery.
Finally, broken in spirit, they acknowledged the divine mission of
the reformer; repeated with superstitious and unmeaning reverence the
formula of the Mussulman creed; accepted with meek submission the
political superiority of the Lamtounah; and contributed a considerable
reinforcement to the already formidable army of the conqueror.

Abdallah did not long enjoy the substantial fruits of his victories.
He was killed in a skirmish twenty-two years after the commencement of
his public career as a missionary, and the government and destiny of
the Berber nation devolved on Abu-Bekr-Ibn-Omar, Emir of the Lamtounah,
whose appointment had been dictated by the authority of Abdallah
himself. Abu-Bekr, while not aspiring to the divine character assumed
by his predecessor, was none the less fortunate in prosecuting his
designs of conquest. He invaded and subdued the ancient kingdom of the
Edrisites, and incorporated it into his vast dominions. He occupied,
in turn, the capitals of Fez and Mequinez, and, dissatisfied with
their surroundings, or craving distinction in a new field, he began
the construction of the city of Morocco as a residence for the dynasty
he had founded. Summoned unexpectedly to the borders of the Desert to
suppress a rebellion, he left the administration of the empire in the
hands of his cousin, Yusuf-Ibn-Tashfin. This chieftain, destined to
enduring celebrity as the deliverer and conqueror of Spain, had already
passed the term of middle life. His person was agreeable, his manners
fascinating, his reputation for valor and capacity unsurpassed. He
constantly practised, without effort or ostentation, the abstemious
habits of his nomadic ancestry. The devout and the indigent received
with grateful acknowledgments the frequent tokens of his charity and
benevolence. In the high station which his birth and talents had
secured for him he had always acted as a wise and discriminating
ruler. His character was, however, obscured by many degrading vices,
and, under the mask of a political ascetic, he concealed the sinister
designs of a calculating and unscrupulous ambition. The opportunity for
personal advancement now offered him was eminently congenial with the
dark and perfidious maxims of policy which regulated his conduct. By
judicious donations he courted and secured the favor of the army. The
populace was profoundly edified by the sight of their prince working
daily, like a common laborer, on the mosque of the rising capital.
The fame of the new city, the extent of its plan, the rapidity of
its construction, the splendor of its edifices, the abundance of its
waters, the beauty of its gardens, attracted from every quarter of
Northern Africa a numerous and enterprising population. On a commanding
eminence at the northern extremity stood the palace and citadel,
fortified by all the art of foreign engineers. The protracted absence
of Abu-Bekr by degrees obliterated the remembrance of his rights from
the minds of a people to whom his person was unfamiliar; and his
authority was soon eclipsed by the increasing popularity and influence
of an ambitious subordinate who aspired to absolute independence.
Not content with despoiling his cousin of his throne, Yusuf even
appropriated his favorite wife; and the lovely Zeinab, a woman of
great talents and beauty, not unwilling to exchange the neglect of
an absent lord for the immediate prospect of love and empire, passed
without a sigh into the harem of the daring usurper. Aware of the
vital importance of preserving the affection of his followers, Yusuf
lavished upon them the most expensive garments, horses, and armor; his
bodyguard, equally composed of Christian captives and negro slaves,
resplendent in silks and jewels, was daily exercised in the rapid and
bewildering evolutions peculiar to the cavalry of the Desert; and less
than one year after the departure of Abu-Bekr, a hundred thousand
warriors, impelled by a blind fanaticism and who revered their leader
almost as a divinity, stood ready, at an instant’s notice, to respond
to his call to arms.

At length, after many months, Abu-Bekr returned to his capital. Long
before he reached it, his ears were saluted with the rumors of the
quiet revolution which had virtually deprived him of his consort and
his crown. The satisfaction he derived from the triumphant issue of
the expedition, the fond anticipations he cherished of the joyous
acclamations of his subjects and of the affectionate embraces of his
wife, were obscured by sad and gloomy apprehensions. He heard with
wonder of the prodigious growth and opulence of the city he had so
recently founded. His credulity was taxed by the marvellous accounts
of its mansions and its suburbs; of the vast revenues collected and
expended by the imperial treasury; of the magnificence of the court;
of the numbers and equipment of the army. Soon the emissaries of Yusuf
secretly penetrated his camp. His soldiers were corrupted with rich
bribes and the assurance of booty or promotion, and, their loyalty
once shaken, they awaited with impatience the signal for desertion
or mutiny. These intrigues and their inevitable tendency could not
be concealed from the unfortunate Abu-Bekr. Aware that resistance or
reproach would cost him his life, he wisely resolved to dissemble his
feelings and accept his fate. By a public and solemn abdication he
renounced his rights in favor of Yusuf, and, broken-hearted, retired
with a few trusty followers to the solitude of the Desert. The title of
the new Sultan of Africa having been thus confirmed by every requisite
of inherited prestige and legal authority, he continued to increase the
area of his already immense dominions. Far from being satisfied with
the growth of his empire, he was scarcely seated on the throne before
he began to meditate the invasion of the Spanish Peninsula. The example
of Tarik, the demoralized condition of his co-religionists beyond the
strait, the menacing attitude of the Christian powers, the prospect of
political aggrandizement, the hope of military distinction, the merit
of protecting the faith of which he was now the most distinguished
exponent,--all these considerations, and others far less praiseworthy,
urged the energetic Yusuf to a more glorious career. As a prelude to
future operations, he stormed the cities of Tangier and Ceuta, repaired
or rebuilt their fortifications, constructed within their walls great
magazines and arsenals, and garrisoned them with large bodies of
veterans of tried courage and fidelity. His dominions now reached from
the eastern boundary of Tunis to the Atlantic, from the Mediterranean
to the burning regions of Senegal. No African potentate had ever before
wielded such enormous power. No Moslem prince had ever exercised
jurisdiction over so extensive a territory. In area and population it
greatly exceeded, in civilization and intelligence only was it inferior
to, the mighty domination of Carthage. Such was the ruler, and such the
empire whose potent aid the distressed Moslems of Andalusia were about
to invoke.

It was only after much deliberation that the Hispano-Arab princes
determined to adopt the desperate expedient of appealing to Yusuf. The
imams and the other ecclesiastical authorities had from the beginning
urged this step, foreseeing, through its acceptance, a certain
accession to their professional importance and a probable augmentation
of their political power. But the sovereigns, who cared more for the
possession of their thrones, precarious though that might be, than for
the reformation of their faith or the exaltation of its ministers,
were loath to admit into their dominions a conqueror flushed with
victory and supported by the vast treasures and the innumerable hordes
of Northern and Central Africa. But, unhappily, no other alternative
remained. Rumors of the great preparations of Alfonso increased day by
day, and at length the question was decided by Motamid, who resolutely
declared, when the danger of inviting the Berbers was enlarged on by
his courtiers, “If it is the will of Allah that I should be deprived of
my kingdom and become the slave of a foreigner, I would far rather be a
camel-driver in Africa than a swineherd in Castile.”

The preponderating influence of the lord of Seville overcame the
indecision of the other Moorish princes, and the kadis of Granada,
Badajoz, and Cordova, duly empowered to act as ambassadors with the
vizier of Motamid, repaired to the court of Yusuf. The enterprise
was agreeable to the ambitious designs of the Sultan of Africa,
but he insisted upon the transfer of the island of Algeziras as an
indispensable condition of the alliance. This the envoys having neither
the authority nor the inclination to grant, matters remained in
suspense until the influence of his religious advisers, who exercised
a singular ascendant over the mind of Yusuf, urged him to seize
the island if its possession was refused to him. A hundred vessels
suddenly set sail from Ceuta, and a great force landed at Algeziras.
The possession of the place was peremptorily demanded by the general
of the African army; the governor refused compliance; and hostilities
were only prevented by a timely order from Seville requiring the
evacuation of the city by the Moorish commander. Yusuf soon arrived
with his guards; the citadel was put in the best possible condition
for defence; the magazines were replenished; and every means adopted
for the strengthening and preservation of a fortress so essential to
secure reinforcements or to protect the retreat of an invading army.
Under such sinister auspices did the Almoravides, or Wearers of the
Veil, first set foot on Spain. The occupation of Algeziras, recognized
by both Moor and Berber as permanent and equivalent to the practical
surrender of the key of Andalusia to a foreign government, portended
even to the most careless observer the speedy dissolution of the
Saracen power.

Yusuf was received near Seville by Motamid with the honors due to his
exalted rank; and the treasury of the latter was almost exhausted by
the splendid gifts with which he endeavored to propitiate the favor and
secure the attachment of his dangerous ally. Such was his liberality
that every soldier of the Almoravide army received a present, a
proceeding which, in view of the weakness of the government and the
exaggerated idea of its resources which it conveyed, was, to say the
least, highly impolitic.

The rulers of the various states of Andalusia contributed all
the troops which could possibly be spared from their small and
ill-appointed armies, and the allied forces, amounting to nearly twenty
thousand men, proceeded northward in search of the enemy. Meanwhile,
the King of Castile had not been idle. The siege of Saragossa, which
had for months engaged his attention and consumed the energies of his
impatient followers, was hastily raised. Orders were despatched to
every vassal to repair with his retainers to an appointed rendezvous.
The bold peasantry of the Pyrenees were exhorted by religious
emissaries to imitate the glorious example of their ancestors, who had
preserved, amidst the most discouraging circumstances, their national
faith and their political liberties. A formidable contingent of French
cavaliers, whom the prospect of booty and the love of adventure had
attracted to the Castilian standards, materially strengthened by their
numbers and their prowess the confidence and the enthusiasm of the
Christians. On the plain of Zallaca, in the province of Badajoz, the
hostile forces were marshalled in menacing array. The devout prejudices
of the Catholic king were insulted by an imperious summons from Yusuf
to renounce his belief or pay tribute to the representative of Islam. A
lengthy answer couched in the grandiloquent style of the age and ending
with an expression of defiance was returned to this menacing epistle;
the armies encamped within sight of each other; and, in compliance with
the practice of those chivalrous times, the day of battle was appointed
by mutual consent. The messengers of Alfonso suggested the second day
from that date, which would be Saturday; the choice was approved by the
unsuspecting Africans; but the astuteness of the experienced officers
of Motamid detected in this plausible arrangement the evidences of a
deep-laid and dangerous stratagem. The Andalusians, who formed the
advance-guard, were, in such an event, most exposed to a surprise, and
the fate of the entire army depended, in fact, on their vigilance.
No precaution was overlooked. The sentinels were doubled. Patrols
made frequent rounds along the lines. The soldiers were admonished to
sleep upon their arms. Reconnoitring parties were sent to report the
slightest signs of unusual activity in the enemy’s camp. It was not
without cause that a universal feeling of anxiety pervaded the Moslem
army. Upon the result of the impending conflict hung all that was dear
to the soldiers of Islam,--their fortunes, their liberties, their
lives, and their religion. The prospect was far from encouraging. The
enemy had the advantage in numbers, in organization, in discipline.
Their forces, sixty thousand in all, exceeded those of the Mussulmans
in the overwhelming proportion of three to one. The Castilians were
superior in the strength of their horses, in the character of their
weapons, in the weight and temper of their armor. Conspicuous among
them were the French knights completely sheathed in glittering steel.
The Christians were, to a man, warriors tried in many a bloody fray;
they were animated by a common purpose and obedient to a single
commander; and they considered the enterprise in which they had
embarked as one peculiarly favored by Heaven. Their zeal was inflamed
daily by distinguished prelates, whose presence imparted additional
sanctity to a crusade nominally waged for the glory and the propagation
of the Faith. On the eve of battle, these ecclesiastical counsellors,
in all the splendor of full canonicals, harangued the ranks of the
soldiery; and not infrequently were they to be found, like the members
of the ancient Visigothic hierarchy, contending with carnal weapons in
the heat and peril of deadly conflict, where their words of sympathy
brought composure and hope to the dying, and their consecrated hands
performed, with its impressive ceremonial, the last solemn rites of the
Church for the dead. Despite the weakness of faith characteristic of
the military profession, and especially marked in the minds of soldiers
of fortune, the exhortations and labors of the Spanish clergy played
no inconsiderable part in the Reconquest. No matter how skeptical a
Castilian prince might be on inconvenient points of doctrine,--and
few in that age were sincerely devout,--they rarely neglected the
punctilious observance of the ritual of the Church, and, what was even
more indispensable in the eyes of the clergy, the constant and liberal
support of its ministers.

Among the Moslems, on the other hand, there was far less of that unity
and confidence which contribute so much to the certainty and ease of
victory. The generals of the Andalusians distrusted their troops;
the sovereigns suspected each other. It was no secret that public
sentiment had been hostile to the enlistment of the Africans, and that
their presence was only the last resort of a desperate emergency.
The Spanish Arabs regarded the Berbers rather as intruders than as
allies, while the intrepid warriors of the Desert looked down with
contempt on an effeminate soldiery unpractised in arms, arrayed in
the silken vestments formerly allotted to women, who were not strong
enough to endure the fatigues of an ordinary campaign, whose courage
was doubtful, and who had long since demonstrated their incapacity
to even partially recover the prestige or to defend the remains of
a once magnificent empire. The defiant seizure of Algeziras had
raised the most alarming apprehensions as to the ultimate designs of
Yusuf. The ambition of that prince was known in every city of Spain.
Moorish traders and spies had brought back from the court of Morocco
accounts of menaced invasion, descriptions of fortresses equipped to
cover a possible retreat, mysterious hints of a prospective gigantic
Hispano-African monarchy. Each Andalusian, as he viewed the swarthy
and ferocious legions of the invader, reflected, with terror, that he
might even then, by increasing the power of his allies, be indirectly
contributing to the subjugation of his country and the enslavement of
himself.

No one was more disturbed than Motamid. By every device familiar to
that superstitious age, he endeavored to read the signs of futurity
and, with the aid of means emphatically condemned by his religion as
idolatrous, to ascertain the inscrutable will of God. His attendants
carefully noted the occurrence of every mysterious omen and augury. The
court astrologers were kept busy with gnomon and astrolabe observing
the positions of the planets and the propitious or unfavorable
indications of the heavens.

Before dawn, on the twenty-third day of October, 1086, word reached
the Moslem camp that the enemy was in motion. The suspicions of the
officers of Motamid were verified, and the appointment of a day for the
engagement had been only a ruse to facilitate a surprise. The situation
of the Andalusians was critical. Their camp was not fortified. Their
deficiency in numbers and lack of discipline rendered them ill-fitted
to withstand the attack of the entire Christian army. Messenger after
messenger was despatched to Yusuf representing the danger. But the
Berber chieftain, although his troops were under arms, still remained
inactive. He had matured a design of whose success he was confident,
and he now only awaited a favorable opportunity for its execution.
Without the least solicitude for his allies, whose sarcastic allusions
to the intellectual inferiority and uncouth manners of his race had
embittered the prejudice already existing between the two nations, he
was not unwilling that they should expose their weakness by vainly
imploring the aid of those whom they had repeatedly insulted. With
the first shock of battle the Andalusians were thrown into disorder,
and all, except the soldiers of Motamid, who were soon surrounded
and overwhelmed by numbers, fled ignominiously from the field. The
Prince of Seville and his followers, although taken at such a fatal
disadvantage, sustained with unshaken firmness the furious onslaught of
the Christian host. Motamid himself nobly redeemed upon that glorious
day the tarnished reputation of his house, and emulated the exploits of
the ancient heroes of the khalifate by the performance of prodigies
of valor. He courted death and martyrdom in the very thickest of the
fight. He was twice wounded, and had three horses killed under him.
His armor was broken; his sword dripped with the blood of his enemies;
and the heap of corpses which lay before him attested the strength
of his arm and the dauntless resolution of his spirit. At length a
large reinforcement of Africans arrived, and the diversion they caused
permitted the Andalusians a momentary respite. In the mean time the
crafty Yusuf, favored by intervening mountains, had gained the rear
of the army of Alfonso, and suddenly descended like an avalanche on
the Christian camp. Enveloped by thousands of ferocious warriors, the
guard was instantly cut to pieces. The tents were set on fire, and
the Castilians saw with astonishment and dismay the conflagration of
their camp and the plunder of their equipage. Day was breaking as the
forces of the Moslems bore down upon their rear. The strange aspect,
the odor, and the discordant cries of the camels, of which there were
hundreds in the Berber army, frightened the horses of the Christians
and threw them into confusion. Motamid’s division, now become the
assailants,--for the front of the battle had been reversed through the
unexpected manœuvre of the Africans,--inspired by the hope of victory,
redoubled its efforts. Thus taken unawares, crowded within a narrow
compass, and attacked on opposite sides, the numerical superiority of
the Christians was rather a serious impediment than an advantage. Their
ranks, disordered by the camels, doubled back upon each other; the
closeness of their array prevented effective action; and those exposed
to the scimetars of the Berber horsemen were unable either to retire
or to defend themselves. In the long series of sanguinary engagements
which marked the progress of the Reconquest, none was more stubbornly
contested than the battle of Zallaca. Time and again the Moslem
position was taken and lost. The pride and valor of the Castilians
contested with determined obstinacy the field which a few hours before
they had thought already won. The return of the fugitive Andalusians,
the prowess of the soldiers of Motamid, and the charge of the guards
of Yusuf decided the doubtful fortune of the day. The wavering of the
Christian army soon became a rout, the rout a massacre. The infuriated
Africans, unaccustomed to the usages of civilized warfare, gave no
quarter to their fleeing and helpless enemies. The flower of the
Castilian nobility perished. The entire loss of the Christians was
more than twenty thousand. The infantry was scattered, and Alfonso,
dangerously wounded with the dagger of one of Yusuf’s guards, succeeded
in escaping with but five hundred followers. The approach of darkness
alone prevented the utter annihilation of the Christian army.

The battle of Zallaca was not attended with the advantageous and
important results to the Moslem cause which its decisive character
would naturally indicate. Inordinate greed and official negligence
permitted the escape of the wounded monarch, whose capture would have
been a fitting termination to such a victory. The clumsy horses of the
Christian knights were no match in speed or endurance for the swift
coursers of the Desert. The condition and departure of Alfonso and his
escort--none of whom escaped unhurt--had been observed, yet the plunder
of the fallen and the rich spoils of the camp possessed greater charms
for the Berber soldiery than the seizure of a captive whose ransom
might be worth a kingdom. The call to prayer upon the battle-field was
made by the muezzin from an elevation formed of the heads of thousands
of slaughtered Christians.

The day after the battle, Yusuf, who had bestowed his share of the
booty on his Moorish allies, received intelligence of the death of
his son at Ceuta, and, his mission for the time accomplished and the
security of his allies assured, he returned to his dominions, leaving a
strong detachment of experienced troops under command of the Prince of
Seville.

The danger which had threatened the Moorish dominions on the northern
side having been disposed of, Motamid, elated by the distinction he had
gained at the battle of Zallaca, determined to attempt the expulsion of
the Christians from Eastern Spain. This, as he was well aware, would
prove no easy undertaking. The provinces of Valencia and Murcia were
at that time controlled by the most formidable bands of mercenaries,
adventurers, and outlaws in Europe. The principal seat of this military
banditti was Aledo, a fortress occupying the summit of an isolated
mountain, and whose defences, natural and artificial, were supposed
to be proof against the utmost skill of the mediæval engineer. Here
were conveyed indiscriminately the sacrilegious plunder of mosques and
churches, the hard-earned possessions of the husbandman, the enslaved
peasantry of the Valencian and Murcian villages, and the beautiful
female captives of Andalusia. The robbers domiciled in this fortress
served under Castilian officers and were nominally Christians, but
their allegiance to both creed and crown was precarious; destitute of
faith, religion, or loyalty they were composed of the dregs of every
nation, and even many renegade Moslems were enlisted in their ranks.
The garrison of Aledo could muster thirteen thousand fighting men.

The victory of Zallaca, whose consequences were not permanent even
in the region where it had been obtained, had in nowise affected the
distant provinces of Eastern Spain. The Moorish population were daily
more and more harassed by raids and enforced contributions; the
inhabitants of the most fertile districts were greatly diminished in
numbers by violence and flight; and it was evident that erelong the
feeble remnant of the industrious race which had transformed that
portion of the Peninsula into a paradise must be either enslaved or
exterminated by the outlaws of Valencia and Aledo.

Motamid, whose meritorious intention to avenge the injuries of the
Arabs of the eastern principalities was further justified by the fact
that Lorca and Murcia both owed him allegiance--the one by right of
inheritance, the other by the title of voluntary submission--and could
consequently demand his protection, having assembled his army, which
included the Almoravides whom Yusuf had placed under his command, began
his march towards Murcia.

But the expedition, commenced with overweening confidence and
vainglorious boasts of success, ended in disgrace and failure. The
presages declared by the astrologers to be favorable proved delusive.
In the first encounter with the Christians, three thousand of the
soldiers of Seville were cut to pieces by one-tenth of that number
of the enemy. The invasion of Murcia was productive of nothing
advantageous. The Berbers of Yusuf, ashamed of the pusillanimity of
their allies, sympathized with their adversaries; the designs of
Motamid were regularly communicated to the officials of the enemy;
and the Prince of Seville, alarmed by the mutinous clamors of his
followers, abandoned the enterprise in disgust.

It was now evident that the Christian power was firmly established in
the East, and that the unaided resources of the Moslems were unable to
overturn it. All eyes were again turned towards the court of Morocco,
and emissaries of the cities affected by the curse of Christian
brigandage importuned with repeated solicitations the intervention
of the redoubtable Sultan of Africa. The latter, however, while
receiving these petitions with courtesy, awaited the action of some
one high in authority. At length the exhortations of the faquis, who
saw with horror the encroachments of the infidel and the consequent
peril of their order, prevailed upon Motamid himself to assume the
office of representative of the religious and political interests of
the disheartened Moslems of Spain. Yusuf welcomed the royal ambassador
with every token of respect; he promised immediate compliance with
his request; and, his preparations completed, he again appeared in
Andalusia at the head of a well-appointed army.

The siege of Aledo was formed, but, as the place was impregnable to
escalade, it was found necessary to reduce it by siege, a proceeding
whose delay could not fail to operate to the injury of the allies,
impatient of discipline and unaccustomed to the monotonous and inactive
routine of the camp. Acting under the instruction of their masters, the
partisans of Yusuf, who abounded among the Spanish Moslems, promoted
by every resource of intrigue the aims of the ambitious Sultan.
His following, especially since his triumph over the infidels, was
formidable in numbers and influence. The great body of the nation,
taxed and re-taxed, alternately raided by Christians and robbed by
collectors of the revenue, oppressed with arbitrary impositions, their
privacy invaded, their families insulted, their children enslaved,
their property destroyed, were willing, in sheer desperation, to
welcome any change as a blessing. The government, which they paid so
dearly to maintain, was not able to protect them from outrage for a
single hour. In addition to this numerous body of partisans, Yusuf
could calculate on the support of the kadis, the muftis, the faquis,
and the imams,--all of the subordinate officers of the government,
all of the ecclesiastical guides of the people. These two classes
regarded the ignorant and fanatical Sultan almost in the light of
a Mussulman saint. The ministers of religion especially, whose
material interests were at stake in the struggle impending between
Moslem tyranny and Christian persecution, were among the most ardent
supporters of a change of dynasty. Their admiration was rewarded, and
in part created, by the attentive reverence with which Yusuf listened
to their admonitions and adopted their counsels. On the other side were
the philosophers and the poets, the scientific and literary society
of the various capitals, still animated by the intellectual principle
which had long been the boast and glory of the khalifate. As a rule,
the lords of the various principalities were then, and had been, almost
without exception, generous patrons of literary genius. The courts
of Seville, Malaga, Almeria, Murcia, and Toledo were inspired by the
example of their once celebrated prototype, Cordova. Freedom of opinion
was indulged without restraint. The inconsistencies and vices of the
theologians were held up to public derision by satirical poets amidst
the applause of sympathetic and delighted audiences. The atheistical
doctrines maintained by the philosophers with all the resources of
learning and eloquence were the scandal and aversion of the orthodox
and fanatical believer. The polished Andalusians ridiculed without
mercy the blunders and illiteracy of Yusuf. He was unable to express
himself fluently in Arabic; indeed, he was scarcely familiar with
the rudiments of that tongue. The similies and rhetorical beauties
of poetical diction he could neither understand nor enjoy. Like most
uneducated persons he was profoundly superstitious, a failing by which
his religious counsellors in case their expectations should be realized
would not be slow to profit. In his eyes, the opinions of the faquis
were oracular; and the promotion of this caste to the practical
control of the government boded no good to the favorites of royalty,
whose scornful speeches rankled in the minds of the objects of their
sarcasm and contempt. A large body of respectable citizens--merchants,
farmers, artificers--joined with the philosophers and the wits in
opposition to the establishment of an African dynasty. Long before
the fall of the khalifate,--a catastrophe not without reason imputed
to Berber agency,--that name had been a term of reproach. Savage
mercenaries from beyond the strait had repeatedly sacked the capital;
had destroyed the magnificent cities of Medina-al-Zahrâ and Zahira; had
spread desolation through every province of Andalusia; had swept away
forever the proud evidences of a civilization which had been the glory
of Europe for centuries. A series of disastrous civil wars had been the
consequence of the attempts of these odious foreigners to establish, at
the expense of the legitimate proprietors of the Peninsula, a vexatious
and intolerable tyranny. Such were the conflicting factions whose
machinations were carried on in the face of the enemy before the walls
of Aledo.

But a single consideration restrained, for the time, the impulses of
Yusuf. He had solemnly sworn before his first expedition that he would
attempt nothing to the prejudice of his allies. From that obligation
the most trusted of his ecclesiastical guides, with an effrontery
that would have done credit to a Jesuit, now promised to release
him. The prevailing arguments of their casuistry were based on the
necessity of protecting the transcendent interests of religion, which
were seriously threatened by the disorganized condition of the entire
country. The scruples of Yusuf were, however, not entirely removed
by these representations, and, while he was still hesitating, the
broils of the Andalusian princes turned aside his attention from the
engrossing projects of personal ambition. Motasim, the Berber lord
of Almeria, had for years been on friendly terms with Motamid. An
indiscreet remark of the latter reflecting on the Sultan was reported
to him; it was traced to Motasim; and the mutual denunciations of the
rivals distracted the peace of the camp. The claim of Seville to the
suzerainty of Murcia was another source of discord, which eventually
caused the defection of the people of that kingdom and the retention
of supplies vitally essential to the subsistence of the besiegers. The
dissensions of his allies, the inclemency of the season, the scarcity
of provisions, and the information that an army of Christians was
approaching induced Yusuf to raise the siege. The casualties of war
and famine had greatly reduced the garrison of Aledo during the four
months that the place was invested. The walls had been weakened by the
military engines, and a determined effort on the part of the besiegers
would have easily carried it by storm. Alfonso, finding its citadel
untenable, completed its destruction that it might not be occupied by
the enemy, and, without any further demonstration, returned to his
dominions.

The retreat of the Moorish army was the signal for fresh intrigues on
the part of the malcontents. They feared that the withdrawal of Yusuf
in the face of the enemy would redound to his injury by diminishing
his prestige and by impairing the confidence of the masses in his
ability to contend successfully with the power of Castile. The Kadi
of Granada was the most active of these conspirators. His treasonable
designs were detected by his sovereign, and he was imprisoned, but
afterwards escaped to Cordova. The fears of his comrades incited them
to redoubled energy. The princes of Malaga and Granada were declared
in an assembly of muftis and faquis to have forfeited their rights
on account of alleged breaches of the law and persecutions of the
expounders of religion; and Yusuf was enjoined, as the representative
of justice and the avenger of the Faith, to seize their dominions.
Encouraged by the assurances of these hypocritical partisans, the
African prince with his entire army marched on Granada. Abdallah,
the sovereign of that kingdom, was conspicuous for cowardice and
incompetency among the degenerate Moslems of his time. He had inherited
none of the martial virtues of his Berber ancestors. He was a patron
of letters, but his studies had not awakened in him either the desire
for glory or the patient resignation to the decrees of fate which are
among the fruits of assiduous research and meditation. The models
of Mohammedan greatness inspired him with no wish to imitate their
exploits. The sight of a drawn sword threw him into convulsions. His
habitual indecision, even in matters of trifling moment, provoked the
derision of his courtiers. Unlike his race, he was insensible to the
charms of female beauty, a defect which excited more contempt than
his pusillanimity among a people with whom impotence is considered a
judgment of God. He was able to write passable verses; he was familiar
with the most celebrated Arab authors; he excelled in the art of
chirography, and had copied and illuminated a Koran, whose reputed
perfection was probably not wholly due to flattery in an age fertile in
accomplished scribes. These arts, however meritorious, were far from
qualifying a ruler for governing a kingdom during a period of universal
disorder. To add to his embarrassment, the court of Abdallah was
permeated with treason. The nobility and the people hated each other,
but both hated and despised the King still more; and their mutual
animosities were, for the time, suspended that they might avenge their
wrongs on him whom they were accustomed to regard as a common enemy.
The viziers were in constant communication with Yusuf and with the
exiled Kadi, Abu-Giafar, who, from his refuge at Cordova, directed the
movements of the conspirators.

The Almoravides had already approached within a few miles of Granada,
which was almost defenceless. Alarmed by the suspicions and threats
of Abdallah, his councillors had secretly fled from the city. The
despairing monarch had previously implored the aid of Alfonso, but
the King of Castile had, for some unknown reason, neglected this
rare opportunity to enlarge his dominions and remained deaf to his
entreaties. A large force of artisans and slaves, whose fidelity
was more than suspicious, was enlisted, who, even had they been
so disposed, could not be expected to face with any prospect of
success the ferocious veterans of Yusuf. Finally, convinced of his
helplessness, Abdallah concluded to throw himself upon the generosity
of his powerful enemy. Surrounded with all the pomp afforded by the
richest principality in Spain, he rode out one morning from the
principal gate of his capital. The cavalcade was preceded by the
Christian guards equipped with a splendor not equalled since the time
of the Ommeyades. They were clothed in many-colored robes of silk;
their weapons sparkled with jewels; the housings of their white Arabian
horses were of brocade profusely embroidered with gold. In the rear
rode the monarch attended by his household and encompassed by eunuchs
with drawn scimetars. A multitude of citizens, including a considerable
number of the partisans of Yusuf, closed the splendid procession.

All this display, however, produced no other effect than to excite the
amazement and cupidity of the Sultan. Abdallah, in flagrant violation
of the rites of hospitality, was placed in chains, and his escort was
despoiled. The gates of Granada were thrown open; the Almoravides
entered in triumph; by public proclamation the exorbitant taxes which
had been such a prolific source of discontent were declared illegal
and abolished; and only those sanctioned by Mussulman laws and usages
were pronounced binding upon the people. The enthusiasm which greeted
the appearance of Yusuf after this concession to popular clamor was
unbounded. He was universally hailed as the champion of right, the
friend of the oppressed, the restorer of Islam. Vast crowds blocked
his passage through the streets. Thousands pressed forward to kiss
the hem of his garment. The satisfaction he derived from these
evidences of popularity--the more extraordinary considering the bitter
prejudice existing in Granada against the Berbers--was enhanced by the
contemplation of the riches of his new conquest. On the future site
of the Alhambra stood a palace, whose beauty made it a not unworthy
precursor of that incomparable abode of royal magnificence and luxury.
Within its vaults were treasures of inestimable value, fruits of the
rapacity exercised by many successive princes of Granada. There were
deposited heaps of precious stones; tapestry and hangings of the
finest silk blazing with jewels; a profusion of gold and silver plate;
weapons of marvellous workmanship; exquisite vessels of porcelain and
rock-crystal. No small portion of this treasure consisted of articles
of personal adornment,--chains, bracelets, necklaces, and amulets.
The gem of the collection was a string of pearls, four hundred in
number, perfectly matched in size and color, and each valued at a
hundred pieces of gold. These precious objects, however, were but
inconsiderable when compared with the mercantile and agricultural
wealth of the province from which they had been derived. The Vega,
or plain of Granada, had already reached that remarkable state of
cultivation which subsequently delighted the eyes and stimulated the
avarice of the subjects of Ferdinand and Isabella. Its broad expanse
was dotted with innumerable hamlets and plantations. Its divisions
were marked by hedges of odoriferous shrubs. The silver threads
of the canals with which it was everywhere intersected glittered
in the sunlight, whose intensity was softened by the light vapors
which constantly overhung the lovely valley. The numerous groves of
mulberry-trees scattered over the smiling prospect suggested the extent
and prosperity of the silk industry, while the vast plantations of
oranges and olives, the pomegranate orchards, the multiple harvests,
the gardens of valuable exotics, disclosed the opulence of the
proprietors and the exuberant fertility of the soil. The predominance
of Hebrew influence had raised the products of Granada to high
estimation in the commercial world. Its bazaars were well furnished
with every commodity which could satisfy the simple requirements of the
poor or the pampered luxury of the rich. The political commotions which
had for so long disturbed the Peninsula, while impairing the prosperity
of the kingdom, had by no means checked the enterprise or materially
damaged the resources of its population. The Jew always stood on
neutral ground. The victorious faction often applied to him for advice
and loans; the unsuccessful one was ever ready to pledge its valuables
with him on the hazard of a new revolution. The elevation of one of
his sect to the honorable dignity of vizier had been of incalculable
advantage to his social and mercantile interests. It had afforded
protection and respectability to his avocations; it had enabled him to
project and mature colossal financial enterprises. Thus he plundered
both sides and prospered. Citizens, proscribed for political offences,
and Christians, for whom ecclesiastical denunciation had no terrors,
transacted their affairs through his agency. His ships were to be found
in every harbor; his factors were established in every seaport; his
wares were exposed for sale in every capital of the Mediterranean and
its adjacent seas. At the period of the occupation of Granada by the
Almoravides, its commerce, in wealth and volume, probably exceeded
that of all the other states of the Peninsula, Christian and Moslem,
combined.

No one of ordinary intelligence could still be ignorant of the
intentions of Yusuf, yet the Andalusian princes, with obsequious
servility, felicitated him in the most flattering terms on his success.
The Sultan felt that it was now time to throw off his disguise. He
habitually treated his royal sycophants with marked discourtesy. The
capture of Granada was followed by that of Malaga. Then it was, when
too late, that the Moorish emirs took the alarm. They agreed among
themselves to withdraw their support from the Almoravides and to
suspend all intercourse with them. In their perplexity and despair
they adopted the fatal plan of soliciting a defensive union with the
Christians, an expedient which had invariably proved fatal to their
interests. The King of Castile readily consented to an alliance which,
whatever might be its result, must necessarily increase his power by
fostering the mutual enmity of the contending Moslems. Aware of the
profound importance of confirming his operations by the sanction of
judicial and ecclesiastical authority, Yusuf now demanded of the kadis
and the muftis an opinion on the legality of seizing the kingdoms
of his allies, which they had proved unable to either govern or to
defend. The opinion, when prepared, was all that the most scrupulous
casuist could desire. Its authors assumed responsibility for the
future acts of Yusuf, and declared it was not only his right but his
duty to dethrone and plunder his degenerate allies, who fortunately
no longer possessed the means of successful resistance. To avoid any
future complications which might affect his standing among the devout,
Yusuf caused this opinion of the highest authorities of Spain to be
submitted to the most distinguished jurists, divines, and scholars of
the Moslem world. All, without exception, confirmed it; and the African
Sultan, having in the mean time returned to Morocco, issued orders to
his lieutenant, Ibn-Abi-Bekr, to commence hostilities without further
delay. Tarifa, Cordova, Carmona were taken, and then the Almoravide
leader, determined to strike a decisive blow, pitched his camp before
Seville. The besiegers had many sympathizers in Motamid’s capital,
and their party had been greatly strengthened by the uniform success
which had hitherto attended their enterprises. The indecision and the
apprehensions of the Prince forbade the adoption of summary measures
against these conspirators, who prosecuted, almost without concealment,
their treasonable schemes in the face of the court and the garrison.
The last resource of Motamid depended on the movements of a Christian
force which the King of Castile sent to his aid; but the latter was
beaten in a decisive battle; the fleet which defended the city on the
side of the river was burned soon afterwards; the fortifications were
stormed; and the citizens, after a prolonged resistance, submitted to
the cruelties and the depredations of a barbarous and rapacious enemy.

Motamid with his family and his guards still held the citadel. The
last prince of the Beni-Abbad had displayed in his extremity the
courage and resolution of a Roman veteran. When at last convinced of
the futility of the astrological predictions which had deluded him, he
abandoned the society of his charlatans and exchanged the astrolabe
for the scimetar. With eagerness he courted death in the heat of the
assault, but, despite the most reckless exposure, he escaped without
a wound. Encompassed on all sides by the enemy, the citadel could not
long be defended, and all overtures for a capitulation were met by the
reply that no conditions would be granted. At length Motamid sought
the camp of the Almoravides alone; the citadel was surrendered; and
the instant evacuation of Ronda and Mutola, which were in charge of
two of his sons, was demanded by the imperious Yusuf. Motamid was sent
to Aghmat, a city near Morocco, where, strictly confined and his most
pressing wants neglected, it was with great difficulty that his family,
condemned by necessity to the most menial occupations and clothed in
rags, could obtain sufficient food for the sustenance of life.

The capture of Seville was immediately followed by the submission of
Almeria, Denia, Xativa, and Murcia. The principality of Badajoz, which
comprehended the greater portion of the modern kingdom of Portugal,
was overrun and conquered; the recent acquisitions of the Christians
shared the fate of the Moorish domain; and the court of Castile heard
with dismay of the sudden loss of a territory which had necessitated so
much labor and time to acquire. Motawakkil, Prince of Badajoz, after
his treasures had been wrung from him by torture, was put to death
on the highway by the express command of the Moslem general. Of the
important cities of the South, Valencia alone remained. It was held by
the Cid, who, with a heroism that largely redeemed his bad faith and
notorious inhumanity, defied for five years the combined resources of
the Almoravide monarchy.

In the annals of history or the creations of romance there exists no
individual whose personality is at once so well defined and so obscure
as that of Rodrigo Diaz de Bivar. Fiction has adorned his character
and his career with the noble attributes of piety, valor, generosity,
military genius, religious zeal. To the ignorant and pompous Castilian,
he is to-day the embodiment of chivalrous knighthood. The Church
still regards him as one of the earliest and most devoted of her
champions. Historical tradition represents him as one of the founders
of the Spanish monarchy. The oldest ballad in the Castilian language
was composed by some unknown genius to recount his exploits, which
have also been celebrated in innumerable dramas, epics, and romances.
Not less than a hundred and fifty of the latter have to-day a place
in the literature of Spain. On the other hand, respectable and
well-informed authorities have doubted his existence. Grave historians
and critics have disputed the evidence of his identity. Scholars whose
intellectual attainments entitle them to respect have pronounced the
famous hero a myth, and have strenuously maintained that the accounts
of his deeds which have descended to posterity are nothing more than
romantic fables. In all the domain of historical criticism, there is
no question more fascinating than that which involves the existence
and the achievements of the Cid. The fact is--and out of it has grown
all the ambiguity connected with his name--that this extraordinary
personage was made up of two distinct characters. The Cid of romance
was the exemplar of courtesy, of magnanimity, of honor, the chivalrous
avenger of the oppressed, the model of every Christian virtue. The Cid
of history was something very different, and it is with him alone that
we have now to deal.

The laborious investigations of distinguished Orientalists, and among
them the exhaustive and valuable researches of Dozy, have established
beyond peradventure the existence and the deeds of the Cid. From
Arabic manuscripts, undeciphered until the middle of this century,
have been gradually collected and compiled the incidents which
compose his eventful and stirring career. The evident authenticity
of these memorials, the absence of any motive to exaggerate the
prowess or the accomplishments of an enemy, the well-known accuracy
of the Arab historians, the interesting phases of life which they
depict, the honest indignation of the writers, unaccustomed to the
systematic disregard of solemn engagements, the detailed enumeration
of the spoils of the battle and the foray, place them among the most
valuable contributions of mediæval antiquity. Their publication and
study have removed the idle myths, the absurdities, the irreconcilable
contradictions, which until then had obscured the story of the idolized
hero of Old Castile.

Of his titles, by which he is much better known to readers than by
his family name, that of the Cid, now distinctively applied to him,
was an honorable appellation, a corrupted form of the Arabic Sidi, or
Lord, once given indiscriminately to persons of rank by the Moslems.
Its prevalent use during the Middle Ages was principally due to the
fact that public documents, epistles, and treaties, addressed to or
executed by Castilian and Moorish dignitaries, were drawn up conjointly
in Latin and Arabic, and not infrequently in the latter language alone.
The other title, Campeador, was derived from the custom of chosen
warriors defying each other to single combat in the face of their
respective armies, a favorite mode among semicivilized nations of
exhibiting individual bravery and address, and older than the famous
encounter between David and Goliath. The political disorganization of
the entire Peninsula, even more apparent in the Christian than in the
Moslem states, the still doubtful and unsettled relations between ruler
and subject, the dangerous liberties enjoyed by ambitious individuals
who had the courage and the insolence to demand them, the imperative
necessities the monarch was under to propitiate his powerful vassals,
the presence and example of foreign adventurers, unaccustomed to legal
restraint and acknowledging no authority but that of the sword, all
of these abnormal social conditions rendered it a matter of little
difficulty for a man of valor and energy to rise to great power and
eminence in the state. In those days personal prowess was the highest
title to distinction. There was no room in the disposition and calling
of the rude soldier of fortune for the exercise of the milder virtues.
War was conducted with a revolting brutality that would have disgraced
a race of savages. Familiarity with scenes of blood had blunted all the
nobler instincts of human nature, and even gentle women countenanced by
their presence and their approbation deeds from which they should have
recoiled with horror. The ecclesiastical order promoted by its advice
and absolved by its spiritual power the perpetration of massacres,
rapes, tortures, the starvation of prisoners, the repudiation of
treaties. No preponderating influence attached to the occupancy
of the throne. The prerogatives of the sovereign had not yet been
accurately determined. His authority, based upon ill-defined precedent
and tradition, was in general limited by his ability to enforce his
commands. The great vassals of the crown frequently defied him, cast
him into prison, drove him into exile. The offence of treason was
subjected to wide latitude of interpretation and to even greater
flexibility in the application of its punishment. Sometimes it meant
one thing, at other times another. The most notorious rebels were often
pardoned, and again received into favor. Insignificant culprits were
frequently condemned to endure the most severe penalties. A leader who
had distinguished himself in battle, who was indulgent to his followers
and liberal to the populace, who considered clemency as an evidence of
cowardice, and the extermination of an enemy as a military virtue, was
sure to excite more admiration than the pampered heir of a score of
kings.

The division of the Castilian territory into so many parts, each
claimed by numerous pretenders, was favorable to the independence of
captains who could command the support of a strong body of followers.
Under such circumstances, the royal power could not be centralized or
exerted with effect. While feudalism, in the strictest acceptation
of the term, never obtained in the Spanish monarchy,--and it was not
until the middle of the thirteenth century that the power of the
nobles began to antagonize that of the crown,--an analogous system
of protection and service was generally recognized by the laws as
controlling the relations of vassal and suzerain, a condition, indeed,
almost inevitable in the early stages of civilized society. The leaders
who had renounced these obligations, or were outlawed for crime,
constituted a formidable element of discord in the Peninsula. They
styled themselves “lords,” but they differed from highwaymen only
in that they exercised on a larger scale and with greater impunity
the popular occupation of robbery. They constructed their castles on
isolated and inaccessible eminences, whence they could discover from
afar the approach of danger or the welcome appearance of the rich and
unprotected traveller. Needy adventurers and proscribed criminals
of every nation and of every religion enlisted under their banners.
Prototypes of the Italian condottieri, their swords and their services
were for sale to the highest bidder. When unemployed and thrown upon
their own resources, they plundered indiscriminately without regard to
the nationality, religion, or calling of their victims. A successful
freebooter often commanded an army of thousands of desperadoes. The
most popular and renowned of these outlaws, in an age when judicial
restrictions and regal authority were subordinated to military force,
was Rodrigo Diaz de Bivar, the Campeador.

The latter having incurred the hatred of Alfonso VI. on account
of the degradation of that monarch when forced to purge himself of
complicity in the death of his brother, which transaction the Cid was
believed to have suggested, or, at all events, to have favored, and
this prejudice having been aggravated by the alleged peculation of
treasure and tribute intrusted to the Cid by Motamid, the offender
was peremptorily banished from the realm of Castile. The disgraced
partisan, after an ineffectual attempt to enter the service of the
Count of Barcelona, applied for military command to the Emir of
Saragossa. That principality was then governed by the martial and
enlightened princes of the Beni-Hud, whose superiority over most of the
other Moslem dynasties had been demonstrated by the pre-eminence of
their literary accomplishments not less than by their renown in arms.
For more than thirty years, Moctadir, the reigning sovereign, had been
engaged in constant hostilities with his neighbors. In spite of the
present unpropitious condition of his fortunes, the Cid was attended by
a considerable number of followers, and his repeated experience with
Christian mercenaries had taught Moctadir that the services of such
allies were not to be despised. They were therefore received with every
mark of distinction, and were mustered into the army. This accession
proved a most valuable one to the Emir and his sons, among whom he soon
afterwards divided his kingdom. The arms of Rodrigo were everywhere
victorious. The partisan warfare by which the northern provinces of
the Peninsula were incessantly afflicted was thoroughly adapted to
the exercise of his malignant genius. His raids exceeded in boldness
and success the most venturesome enterprises hitherto undertaken by
the Moslems. His infidel comrades stood aghast at the atrocities
committed by his soldiers,--at the wholesale butchery of defenceless
captives, at the unblushing violation of solemn compacts, at the
ingenuity of tortures devised to compel the discovery of treasure.
The expeditions of Rodrigo were carried to the borders of France. He
repeatedly routed the Catalans, the hereditary enemies of his patron.
He captured the Count of Barcelona, an exploit which acquired for the
Emirate of Saragossa great political advantages through the negotiation
of a favorable treaty. He spread desolation far and wide through the
territory of Aragon. The wealth derived from these predatory excursions
was incredible. The Moorish prince regarded his ally with peculiar
favor because of the impartiality he displayed in the collection of
plunder. The vessels of the Christian altar were no more sacred in the
eyes of this impious freebooter than the spoils of a Moslem castle. As
a natural result of his achievements, his popularity among the Moslems
of Saragossa exceeded that enjoyed by any other individual. On his
return from a foray, the inhabitants of the capital received him with
acclamations that might well arouse the jealous envy of the sovereign.

The oppression of Valencia by bands of lawless soldiers of fortune
and brigands had been probably more severe than that endured by any
other province of the Peninsula. But the rapacity and fierceness of
these troublesome guests were now to be aggravated by the presence
and the counsels of a leader experienced in every device of warfare
and extortion. The opulence of Valencia and the presence of many of
his countrymen as the nominal guards of Kadir attracted the Cid to
that region, where his pre-eminent talents for intrigue and villany
soon gave him a decided ascendant over all competitors. He plundered
the defenceless inhabitants under pretence of punishing rebellion. He
extorted great sums from the rich ostensibly for the support of the
government. No class was exempt from his ruinous perquisitions. Even
the clergy were forced to surrender their treasures. He unblushingly
assumed the actual direction of affairs which were administered in the
name of the Prince of Valencia; and as a compensation for his valuable
services appropriated from the provincial treasury every month the
enormous sum of ten thousand pieces of gold.

The Cid had long coveted the possession of Valencia. That delightful
province, which, under the temperate zone and in the enjoyment of an
equable and salubrious climate, yields with lavish bounty the choicest
productions of every clime, had been the prey of many successive
adventurers. The richness of its agricultural resources, the variety
and frequency of its harvests, the excellence of its fruits, the
profits of its commerce, the beauty of its women, imparted to that
highly favored region a peculiar charm in the eyes of the profligate
soldier of fortune. The government of Kadir, sustained by Castilian
mercenaries, had been the scourge of the land. Wealthy nobles had
been impoverished by the exactions of the usurper. The Jews, at
first a most profitable source of revenue, had been driven away by
persecution. Extensive districts of inexhaustible fertility had been
entirely abandoned. The tyranny of the government, the depredations of
the mercenaries and the brigands, made property so insecure that rich
estates were disposed of for trifling sums by their frightened owners,
and the great quantity of land thrown upon the market caused it to
continually depreciate in value. The invasion of the Almoravides was
followed by the withdrawal of the Castilians from Valencia, and the
decisive action of Zallaca relieved the apprehensions of the people of
that kingdom from present danger of interference by the Christians. The
opportunity for relief was too favorable to be overlooked. Every vassal
and tributary of Kadir either declared his independence or placed
himself under the protection of some friendly neighbor. The defenceless
condition of that prince and the encouragement of disaffected citizens
impelled Mondhir, Lord of Denia, to besiege his capital with a strong
force of Arabs and Catalans. Kadir, driven to extremity, sent an envoy
to conclude an alliance with Mostain, Emir of Saragossa. The latter,
while expressing the greatest sympathy for the Prince of Valencia and
declaring his intention to relieve him at once from his danger, was
at the same time engaged in negotiations with the Cid with a view to
despoiling Kadir of his kingdom. By the terms of this agreement, the
capital and the province were to be delivered to the Emir and the
plunder of every description was to be the reward of the Cid. Mondhir,
unable to contend with such formidable antagonists, hastened to raise
the siege at their approach. The Prince of Valencia, while profuse in
his expression of gratitude, refused to comply with the provisions of
the treaty he had concluded with Mostain, being sure of the neutrality
of the Cid, which he had secretly purchased with gifts of enormous
value. Mostain, having thus rendered an important service to an
ungrateful and perfidious ally, returned in a rage to his capital.

The unexampled duplicity of the Cid was now manifested in his overtures
to different rulers whose interests he declared his readiness to
promote, but all of whom he was equally willing to betray for the
accomplishment of his own designs. He represented to the rival
monarchs, Mondhir and Mostain, that he would co-operate with either, at
any time, in besieging Valencia. Then he sent an embassy to Alfonso,
renewing his allegiance and promising him not only the dominions of
Kadir, but also those of the other two Moslem princes whose hospitality
and confidence he constantly enjoyed and abused. Notwithstanding their
repeated experience of his perfidy, these monarchs were led by their
fears and their aspirations to be again deceived by the Cid. It was not
strange, however, that his support should have been eagerly solicited
by every sovereign. No soldier made war with such ruthless barbarity.
When he took a city not one stone was left upon another. No commander
enjoyed such prestige. His consent had been necessary to secure the
accession of the King of Castile. His arms were regarded as invincible.
He had enriched the city of Saragossa with the plunder of its enemies.
The horrible crimes he had committed made his name a bugbear wherever
it was known, and had greatly dimmed the lustre of his renown. His
followers numbered three thousand well-equipped veterans, a force
superior to that controlled by any Moorish prince, and fully equal, man
for man, to the vaunted chivalry of Castile.

Having received assurances of the favorable disposition of Alfonso,
the Cid returned to the court of that monarch, who restored to him
his estates and presented him with a commission by which he was
invested with all the territory he might be able to conquer from the
Moslems, subject only to the obligations of vassalage. The presence
of the most famous military chieftain in Spain at the Castilian court
produced great enthusiasm. He received alike the congratulations of
the King, the compliments of the nobility, and the servile homage
of the multitude. The adventurous youth of the monarchy hastened to
enlist under his banner, and when he again advanced into the enemy’s
country his command had increased to seven thousand men. During his
absence, Mostain had renounced his alliance, and in company with
Berenger, Count of Barcelona, had formed the siege of Valencia. The
approach of the Castilians caused the abandonment of the enterprise,
and the Cid, as has been previously mentioned, established a military
protectorate over that kingdom. Summoned by Alfonso to assist in
raising the siege of Aledo, his dilatory proceedings aroused suspicions
of collusion with the enemy, and his indignant sovereign confiscated
his property and estates and cast his family into prison. The latter
were finally liberated, and the Cid, released from all responsibility
to superior or ally and in command of an army of devoted followers,
was free to prosecute without interference his atrocious schemes of
oppression and rapine. This great force was now afforded the congenial
employment of ravaging the provinces of Eastern Spain. The valleys of
Valencia, Xativa, Tortosa were pillaged without mercy. In the fertile
districts of Orihuela, outside of the city itself, not a single
habitation, not even a wall, was spared. The Count of Barcelona was
again beaten in a fiercely contested battle, and, taken prisoner with
five thousand of his troops, was only able to secure his release by
acknowledging himself the vassal of his conqueror. The power of the
Cid now increased apace. Without a court, or even a fixed residence,
he assumed the manners and displayed the arrogance of an independent
potentate. The weaker Moslem states, unable to contend with success
against his arms, purchased his forbearance by the payment of a ruinous
tribute. Valencia, Segorbe, Liria, Almenara, Xerica, Alpuente, Olacau,
Murviedro, Albarracin were included among his dependencies. Thousands
of Mussulmans served under the banner of the most relentless enemy
of their race. The family of Mondhir entreated him to assume the
guardianship of the infant heir of that prince. From these sources he
received an annual revenue of two hundred and twenty-five thousand
pieces of gold,--three million two hundred thousand dollars,--a sum
indicative of the vast wealth still possessed by provinces long subject
to the ills of extortion, pillage, and depopulation, as well as of
the power of a suzerain who, without the prestige of royal birth or
the support of an established government, was able to levy and collect
it. An expedition against the Moors of Granada, undertaken some time
afterwards by Alfonso, ended unfortunately for the Christians, and
the failure was, as usual, attributed to the treachery of the Cid. An
ineffectual attempt was made to arrest him, and the King of Castile,
assisted by a formidable fleet of four hundred vessels furnished by
the Genoese and Pisans, his allies, proceeded to revenge his offended
dignity by a determined attack on Valencia by sea and land. The Cid
being at that time at Saragossa, and unable to enter or to defend the
city which he already considered as his own, made a destructive raid
into the territory of Alfonso, who was reduced to the necessity of
withdrawing his forces to protect his own dominions. He sustained no
inconsiderable loss by this proceeding of his rebellious vassal in
the utter devastation of the country which marked his progress, as
well as in the ruin of the populous city of Logroño, which was stormed
and burnt to the ground by the army of Rodrigo. The abandonment of
the siege and the absence of the Cid inspired the people of Valencia
with the desire to again place that kingdom under Moslem rule.
Ibn-Djahhaf, the principal kadi, aspired to emulate the example of
Abul-Kasim-Mohammed, who, from the same office, had arisen to the
high position of virtual ruler of Seville. The uncertain temper of
their sovereign, himself an usurper and controlled by men foreign to
the country and enemies to its religion, the distress arising from
the incessantly interrupted operations of agriculture and trade,
the onerous financial burdens imposed by caprice and injustice,
the intolerable insults of the Christian soldiery, who habitually
treated them as inferiors and slaves, had more than once driven the
exasperated inhabitants to the verge of revolution. Now, encouraged
by the exhortations of a man of such prominence as Ibn-Djahhaf, they
eagerly welcomed the opportunity for revenge and independence. A picked
body of Almoravides was quietly admitted into the city; the people
rose in arms; the palace was sacked; Kadir escaped in the disguise of
a woman, only to be taken soon afterwards and beheaded; and a Council
of State, composed of nobles and modelled after the one which had
formerly administered the government of Cordova with such remarkable
success, was instituted. The authority of this august body was somewhat
hampered, however, by the claims of the Almoravide commander, Abu-Nasr,
who intimated that he would hold the city for his sovereign, as well as
by the ridiculous pretensions of the Kadi, who assumed all the credit
of the revolution, and whose incapacity became the more glaring when
observed in connection with his theatrical postures and his feeble
imitation of the dignity and attributes of royalty.

The Cid did not leave the new government long unmolested. His approach
was announced by the flames and smoke of burning villages, and by
the headlong flight of thousands of peasants who came pouring into
Valencia. That lovely city was soon surrounded by a wide belt of
blackness and desolation. Everything indicative of the bounty of nature
or the ingenuity and prosperity of man was ruthlessly swept away. The
settlements for miles around the capital were given to the torch. The
numerous mills which lined the banks of the Guadalaviar, the villas
of the wealthy citizens and the nobles, the boats, magazines, and
warehouses were reduced to ashes. The suburbs were stormed and taken.
Then the Valencians, without prospect of relief, opened negotiations
with the Cid. Their overtures were received with favor; the Almoravide
garrison retired; the former monthly tribute was renewed; and the city
once more recognized the authority of the Castilian adventurer. But the
Almoravide Sultan was not willing to abandon without a struggle such a
rich prize as the kingdom of Valencia. News soon reached the capital
that a powerful force was on the march to reduce it. The domination
of the hated Berber seemed preferable to the insatiable rapacity of
an infidel suzerain. The inhabitants rebelled, and the adherents and
officers of the Cid were driven away. The gates were then closed; the
supreme authority was vested in Ibn-Tahir by the tumultuous voice of
the people; and the latter awaited with anxiety the arrival of the
Almoravides. The Cid, who during the sedition was domiciled in one
of the suburban palaces of the kings of Valencia, while powerless
to prevent the defection of the city, was still able to retard the
approach of the enemy. He caused the bridges to be broken down, and
the dikes having been cut, the country, which for leagues had recently
presented the appearance of a garden, was now transformed into a lake.
Only a narrow causeway was left through the waters, and this approach
could be easily defended by a handful of determined men against a
numerous army.

These vigorous measures produced an unexpected result. Not willing to
incur the hazard of an attack, and their provisions falling short, the
Almoravides, whose watch-fires could already be seen from the towers
of the city, retired. Dismay and terror now filled the minds of the
Valencians. Unable to protect themselves, they knew not where to turn
for aid. Ibn-Tahir, the chief magistrate, did not possess the talents
necessary to inspire confidence in such a trying emergency, and his
unpopularity reflected upon his family. The tribe of the Beni-Tahir
was one of the oldest, the wealthiest, the most honorable in Valencia.
But these considerations for public favor could not preserve it from
the effects of the incompetency of its chief and the unreasoning fury
of the multitude. Ibn-Tahir was deposed, and Ibn-Djahhaf, who, for
his own ends, had diligently encouraged the prevailing discontent,
was raised to power. A mob attacked the palace of the Beni-Tahir, and
the members of that noble family were stoned, insulted, subjected to
the most humiliating indignities, and finally sent in chains to the
camp of the Cid. The latter offered his protection to Ibn-Djahhaf on
the same terms upon which it had formerly been accorded to Kadir, but
as he exacted the delivery of his son as a hostage, a condition which
the suspicious Arab refused to accede to, negotiations were abruptly
terminated. The army of the Cid now closely invested the city, which,
unprepared for a siege, was soon exposed to the most frightful of
calamities. The sufferings of the inhabitants became intense. The
increasing famine caused the most disgusting substances, the most
repulsive animals, to be eagerly devoured. Men fought for refuse in
the turbid current of the sewers. A rat, esteemed a great delicacy,
could hardly be procured for a piece of gold. The wealthy could still
obtain a small amount of grain, which was jealously hoarded by its
owners and only disposed of in small quantities and at fabulous prices.
An ounce of barley sold readily for three dinars. When this supply
was exhausted, they endeavored to sustain their failing strength with
pieces of leather, leaves, bark, and such vegetation as could be
gleaned in the gardens and court-yards of their mansions. The poor had
no resource but cannibalism. In the midst of the universal distress,
Ibn-Djahhaf, apparently unmindful of the future, maintained the state
of a monarch. Within his gates there was no evidence of the want
that was hourly driving thousands to despair and death, no sign of
approaching retribution. His palace was the daily scene of literary
discussions, of dances, of intoxication. A crowd of parasites enjoyed
his bounty. The subsistence of the court was secured by the plunder of
private granaries. The property of the dead and dying was confiscated.
Remonstrance against this tyranny was punished with imprisonment.
People fell and expired with hunger in the streets. Great crowds
seeking an opportunity of escape constantly besieged the gates of the
city. Those who succeeded in reaching the Christian lines were either
butchered or sold as slaves. Humanity had no place in the policy of
mediæval warfare, especially when conducted by banditti. Experience had
demonstrated that a prisoner in the last stages of famine was available
for neither service nor ransom, and that a speedy death was the most
natural and efficacious method of disposing of a captive in whose
maintenance there was no profit and whose days were already numbered.
The weakest and most emaciated of these wretches were therefore killed
at once without ceremony. The degenerate Moslems of the neighboring
provinces, who served in the army of the Cid, felt no compunctions
in profiting by the servitude of their countrymen, and few could
withstand the temptation of securing a slave for a trifle. Traders from
Constantinople, Damascus, and Alexandria were always present in the
camps of the armies which were contending for the possession of the
Peninsula, and to these such of the Valencian refugees whose resources
had in a measure exempted them from the misery of their townsmen
were sold, to be again exposed in the slave-markets of the East. The
general suffering finally became so great that the fugitives, enfeebled
by hunger, were not able to traverse the short distance between the
city and the camp,--the boundaries of famine and servitude or death.
The city was not so closely invested that communication was closed
with the besiegers or with the adjoining principalities. Ibn-Djahhaf
attempted, in vain, to secure relief by the most liberal promises to
the Emir of Saragossa and the King of Castile. They distrusted his
sincerity, and, above all, they feared the vengeance of the Cid, now
the greatest potentate in Spain. His emissaries, aided by sympathizers
among the inhabitants and the garrison, seemed to have entered the
gates of Valencia at will. By the unsparing use of money and promises,
they openly endeavored to advance the interests of their commander.
Several conspiracies to overthrow Ibn-Djahhaf were detected and
punished. Representations concerning the weakness and disaffection of
the garrison induced the Cid to attempt to take the city by storm. The
plan miscarried; the Christians were repulsed with great loss, and
their leader himself narrowly escaped capture. Fearing the intervention
of the Sultan of Africa, the Cid now had recourse to an expedient so
infamous that it would hardly be countenanced by barbarians. He issued
a proclamation that all the Valencians in his camp must return within
the walls or be burned alive, and that the same fate was thereafter
destined for every refugee without exception. Funeral pyres were raised
in places within full view of the ramparts, whence the citizens could
easily see the tortures and hear the shrieks of their relatives and
countrymen. This cruel edict made no distinction of age or sex, and
children and young girls, whose charms had been impaired or destroyed
by privation and hunger, were ruthlessly cast into the flames along
with the infirm and the aged. Eighteen of these victims underwent this
dire penalty of misfortune at once, and not a day elapsed without the
Valencians being called upon to witness the dreadful human sacrifice.
This relentless policy, aided by the increasing destitution and misery
of the inhabitants, soon accomplished its end. A truce for fifteen days
was agreed upon, followed on June fifteenth, 1094, by a capitulation,
whose terms, under the circumstances, were most favorable to the Moors.
The authority, both civil and military, was, by its provisions, vested
in the Moslem partisans of the Cid; the existing laws were to be
preserved; the mosques were to remain in possession of the votaries of
Islam, who were guaranteed the unmolested exercise of their worship;
the property of the citizens was to remain inviolate; and the garrison
was to consist of Christian residents of Valencia. For a time the
conditions of the treaty were strictly observed and the fair promises
of the conqueror fulfilled. But, as soon as he felt himself secure, the
contract--which had been concluded with the sanction of the clergy and
confirmed by the solemn ceremonies of religion--was repudiated, and
the open infraction of its provisions became notorious. The Castilians
occupied the citadel, where also the Cid took up his residence. The
houses of the wealthy citizens were searched for concealed hoards of
gold and jewels. Upon the most trifling pretext--the suspicion of magic
or the escape of a slave--the privacy of the Valencian nobles was
suddenly invaded by a band of ferocious men-at-arms. The estates, whose
restoration to their owners had been promised in a public assemblage
of the people, were suffered to remain in the hands of those whose
rapacity or injustice had secured them. Finally, the people were
assured that their city belonged to the Cid by the right of conquest,
and that he and his subordinates would, for the future, preside in the
tribunals of justice, impose taxes, collect tribute, and coin money.
All who were not willing to accede to these conditions were at liberty
to depart, without, however, taking with them a single article of their
personal property. So many refused to trust themselves to the caprices
of a ruler who had given such an exhibition of perfidy that two days
elapsed before the long and melancholy procession had passed out of
the city. Their places were supplied by Christian families collected
from the neighboring states, who, applauding the valor and piety of the
Cid, occupied, with unconcealed exultation, the elegant mansions and
lovely gardens of the Moorish exiles.

The tranquillity of the city being now assured, the Cid turned his
attention to Ibn-Djahhaf. He was horribly tortured to obtain a
statement of his wealth, which a diligent exploration of his palaces
and of those of his friends subsequently proved to be false. All the
possessions of those who had ever in any way befriended the former
master of Valencia were promptly confiscated. Then the Cid, who had
planned for his illustrious prisoner the most agonizing of deaths,
caused a pit to be dug in the principal square of the city and heaped
about with fagots; and Ibn Djahhaf, buried in it to the shoulders, was
slowly roasted to a crisp. The female members of his family, destined
for the same fate, were saved, with great difficulty, by the entreaties
of his Moorish subjects and the remonstrances of the Christian
soldiery, who, although daily participants in scenes of diabolical
cruelty, could not view unmoved the commission of such a crime. No such
exemption could be obtained, however, for the slaves, the friends, and
the literary associates of the unfortunate Kadi. They were all burned
on great funeral pyres in sight of the citizens and the army. In the
infamous record subsequently made by the Spaniards in the Old and the
New World, among the awful atrocities perpetrated by Alva, Cortés, and
Pizarro, none surpassed in cold-blooded brutality the conduct of the
Cid at the siege and capture of Valencia.

His ambition, far from being satisfied with the acquisition of one
of the richest provinces of the Peninsula, was only stimulated to
greater exertions. He extended his dominions on every side. He took
Murviedro, and, despoiling its inhabitants, sold them at auction,
after having made and broken a treaty similar to the one negotiated
at Valencia. His power was so great that kings did not disdain to
treat with him on an equality; and Pedro I. of Aragon solicited his
friendship in terms which indicated the fear with which he was regarded
by his neighbors. At last his army was utterly routed by the Almoravide
general Ibn-Ayesha, near Xativa, and heart-broken, the bold leader,
who had been for so long the idol of the Christians and the terror of
the infidel, was unable to survive the disaster. For two years his
courageous widow, Ximena, succeeded in repulsing the Almoravides, but
at last, compelled to abandon her position, Valencia was evacuated by
the Castilian amazon and set on fire.

Such was the career and such the end of an adventurer whose influence
and prestige often rose superior to those of royalty itself; who, by
a perverted sentiment of enthusiasm, has passed into history as the
exemplar of chivalry and the pattern of every martial excellence;
who, though the sacrilegious despoiler of cathedrals and monasteries,
is yet revered by the Church as one of her most devoted champions,
whose brutality is applauded as zeal, whose perfidy is held up to
public admiration as the highest development of worldly wisdom, and
who to-day enjoys in the minds of his vainglorious countrymen a
consideration not inferior to that accorded to the most venerated
saint in the Roman Catholic calendar. Ecclesiastical fictions and
popular ignorance prolonged the influence of the Cid far beyond the
term of his natural life. The absurd legend which recounted the rout
of Moorish armies at the sight of his corpse lashed to the saddle
and borne at the head of crusading squadrons on many occasions, in
subsequent times, inspired the Castilian chivalry with fresh devotion
to their cause. The fables attributed to his charger Babieca and
his sword Tizona--which, in imitation of Arabic custom, had each its
history--were related with awe in every peasant’s hut on the plain and
in the sierra. A sacred character attached to his remains. They worked
innumerable miracles. They confounded the designs of unbelievers.
Great virtue invested fragments of his coffin and of his garments.
They were powerful talismans against danger in battle. They foiled the
plots of conspirators. And yet there were few pious persons in the
most superstitious age who did not possess far better claims to the
attributes of a saint. The Cid was for the greater part of his life a
rebel. He defied and oppressed his king. He served the Mohammedans,
and, as their ally, invaded the Christian kingdom of France. Even
in the poems intended to glorify his exploits he is represented as
ridiculing the Pope. He burned churches and robbed the clergy. His
perfidy became proverbial. He betrayed everybody. The barbarities he
committed without compunction appalled even his own followers, long
accustomed to the remorseless butchery of the helpless and the old.
His cruelty was incredible. Of the virtues of patriotism, mercy,
forgiveness, he knew nothing. Even his orthodoxy was justly liable to
criticism. He was more indulgent to the infidel than, in the eyes of
the zealots, became a true believer. He maintained a harem. Moslems
formed a large proportion of his command. It was even suspected that
he was not buried with the rites of the Church. In 1541, when his tomb
was opened, his body was found wrapped in a Moorish mantle embroidered
with arabesques and Arabic inscriptions. Nevertheless, the universal
reverence in which he was held by the Spanish people, clergy and laity
alike, induced Philip II., the most austere of royal bigots, to demand
his canonization at the hands of the Pope, a ceremony which was only
prevented by political complications necessitating the sudden recall
of the Spanish ambassador from Rome.

The occupation of Valencia was the last achievement in the life of
Yusuf. With the exception of the city of Toledo, and the principality
of Saragossa soon to succumb to the arms of his son, the entire realm
of Moorish Spain was subject to his authority. This great conquest
had been accomplished in less than three years. His empire was equal
in magnitude to those of the Ommeyades and Abbasides combined. The
entire region of Northern Africa, from Tunis to the Atlantic, obeyed
his edicts. His dominions embraced an area more than ten times that
of the Western Khalifate during the era of its greatest prosperity.
Even the early princes of Islam, upon whom had descended the mantle
of the Prophet, had not claimed such a vast jurisdiction or wielded
such despotic authority. Every Friday his name was repeated, for the
homage and the prayers of the devout, from the pulpits of three hundred
thousand mosques. The provinces of Al-Maghreb, as well as those of
Spain, had been seriously affected by wars and revolutions; their
cities had been repeatedly plundered; their agricultural population had
been greatly reduced by enslavement and starvation. Yet such was the
wealth of the empire of Yusuf that, notwithstanding the expenditures of
a magnificent court and an imperfectly regulated system of taxation,
he was enabled to leave to his successor a treasure of seven and a
half million pounds’ weight of silver and a hundred and twenty-five
thousand pounds’ weight of gold. No less than thirteen princes, who had
inherited or usurped the titles of sovereignty, acknowledged him as
their lord. Under none of the khalifs of any dynasty had the burdens
of the people seemed so light. The necessaries of life were cheaper
than they had been within the memory of man. Bread was sold at a
nominal price, and for a trifle an armful of the choicest vegetables
and fruits could be purchased. The large majority of his subjects
paid no taxes. The ordinary expenses of the government were defrayed
by the tribute of Christians and Jews; the extraordinary demands
were readily met by the spoils of war. Universal demoralization had,
however, rendered a lasting reform impracticable among the antagonistic
states of the Peninsula accustomed for generations to the prevalence
of military excesses and anarchy. The hopes of public happiness and of
future security, which at times were entertained by the people, were
in the highest degree illusory. Theological influence, fatal to every
government, soon overturned the gigantic but unstable fabric of Yusuf.
With him and his successors the power of the faquis was paramount.
They dictated every measure, disposed of every office, shared in
every contribution. Their rapacity and tyranny increased with their
opportunities. Even without foreign interference, the African monarchy
must within a few years have fallen to pieces. The deterioration of
the Berber soldiery was so rapid and complete after its exposure to
the temptations and luxury of Andalusia that Ali was compelled to
enlist, for his own security, recruits from the infidel populations of
Europe. Even the Greeks of Constantinople, the most superstitious of
Christians, the most perfidious of men, were to be found in the armies
of the natural enemy of the Church and the reformer of the Mohammedan
religion. The government officials were selected by the women of the
harem, who sold lucrative employments to the highest bidder or shared
the profits of extortion, while the monarch prayed and fasted or
listened to the exhortations of the clergy. The Almoravide empire fell
with the same rapidity that was so conspicuous in its foundation. Not
many years were to elapse before its African domain was to be usurped
by a race of savage fanatics, and the kingdoms of Spain, with one
exception, be permanently subjected to the sceptre of the dreaded and
execrated Christian.

The years of Yusuf, prolonged far beyond the ordinary term of human
existence, included a full century, three ordinary generations of man.
His active life, his abstemious habits, his freedom from those vices
which waste the body and enfeeble the mind, enabled him to retain to
the last the enjoyment of all his faculties. Although pitiless in the
treatment of his enemies, it is related of him that during his entire
reign, through motives of mistaken humanity, he never signed the
death-sentence of a single criminal. Small indulgence was shown to the
two tributary sects which, under the law of Islam, were permitted the
exercise of their worship. From both, the contributions established
by the successors of Mohammed were rigorously exacted. The Christians
were prohibited from making proselytes. All their churches of recent
erection were destroyed. A tradition of obscure origin, long current
in the Peninsula, was made the excuse for a new and ingenious tax upon
the Jews. It was said that the Hebrews had promised Mohammed that if
the Messiah did not come before the year 500 of the Hegira their nation
would become Mussulman. The time had not yet expired, but Yusuf imposed
upon the Jews of his dominions the payment of an immense sum, by which
they and their descendants were released from an act of apostasy which
they had never contemplated, based upon a tradition probably invented
by some idle and mendacious theologian.

The phenomenal rise of the Almoravide empire, its marvellous opulence
and apparent stability, the suddenness of its collapse, demonstrate
the imperfect cohesion of the ill-balanced and misdirected elements of
Moslem society. The Arab and the Berber character, never voluntarily
amenable to the salutary restrictions of law and civilization, were now
wedded to that civil disorder and habitual freedom from control whose
indulgence offered a not imperfect resemblance to the conditions of
the predatory and independent life of the Desert. The career of Yusuf
was largely modelled after that of Mohammed. The reforms he instituted
were productive of temporary peace and of a delusive prosperity, but
the Spanish Moslems had become too degraded to appreciate the blessings
of tranquillity and order; and their princes, while fully alive to
the impending peril of Christian supremacy, unwisely permitted their
private feuds and personal prejudices to contribute directly to the
subversion of both their authority and their religion.

The sceptre of Yusuf descended to his son Ali, a young man of
twenty-three years, whose martial aspirations were constantly
subordinated to his religious duties and to his predilection for the
society of the clergy. The seat of government, as in the preceding
reign, remained at Morocco. The capitals of the various Spanish states
and provinces were held either by devoted vassals of the crown or
by military governors of established reputation and unquestionable
loyalty. Ali was scarcely seated upon the throne before the citizens
of Saragossa, weary of the tyranny of the Beni-Hud, solicited his
protection; and that city, the key of the valley of the Ebro and
the last of the great capitals of Moorish Spain to surrender its
independence, was incorporated, without bloodshed, into the colossal
Almoravide empire.

The possession of the territory once occupied by the khalifate did not
satisfy the restless spirit of Ali, whose policy aspired to so vast
and impracticable a scheme as the total annihilation of the Christian
power. His ambition was seconded, and indeed largely prompted, by his
zeal, which impelled him to the prosecution of incessant hostilities
against the enemies of Islam. The occupation of Saragossa by Temim,
the son of Yusuf and the governor of Valencia, was followed by an
invasion of the dominions of Alfonso VI. and the siege of Ucles. A
Castilian army sent to relieve that fortress encountered the Moslems
a short distance from its walls. A bloody battle was fought; and the
Christians, who far outnumbered their adversaries, underwent a crushing
defeat. Sancho, the favorite son of the King by his Moorish wife or
concubine, Zayda,--who was the daughter of Motamid, formerly Prince
of Seville,--was killed in the action, and the grief of Alfonso was
so intense that he only survived his bereavement a few months. To his
genius as a soldier and a ruler has been justly attributed a large
share of the greatness of the Castilian monarchy. He traversed the
territory of his Moslem enemies from one extremity of the Peninsula
to the other. In the course of his long and eventful reign he won
thirty-nine battles. Great in all the popular qualities of the time,
his deeds made a deep and lasting impression on the national character
of Spain.

The dissensions which followed the death of their sovereign seriously
threatened the integrity of the kingdom. The activity of Temim carried
dismay along the entire Christian frontier. Ocaña, Aurelia, Cuenca
were again subjected to Moslem authority. The policy of Al-Mansur,
which for a quarter of a century, without intermission, had maintained
the Holy War, was renewed. Ali reinforced his brother with an army of
a hundred thousand Africans, which, after desolating a large part of
Castile, formed the siege of Toledo. Unable to make any impression upon
that fortress, the invaders stormed and burned Talavera, Guadalajara,
Madrid, and many other less important cities. Ibn-Abi-Bekr invaded
Portugal and took Santarem and Lisbon. The remoteness of his capital,
the restless and impulsive character of his subjects, the danger
of sudden revolution, soon necessitated the return of Ali, whose
enterprise could not be dignified by the name of a campaign, and was,
in fact, nothing more than a gigantic foray. The number of Christian
captives who followed in the train of his army exceeded any that had
passed the strait since the invasion of Musa. Year after year the
lieutenants of the Sultan carried their ravages into the enemy’s
country. No quarter was given or expected in these expeditions. All
prisoners not available as slaves were inhumanly butchered, and the
women and children exhibited for sale in the markets of Al-Maghrab,
Egypt, and Syria.

The loss of Alfonso VI. of Castile was compensated by the rise
of another Alfonso, King of Aragon, surnamed from his fighting
proclivities El Batallador. Under the guidance of his genius, the
Christians began again to successfully arrest the progress of Moslem
conquest. The line of fortresses along the frontier gradually fell
into their hands. The great cities of Lerida and Saragossa were taken.
In many fiercely contested engagements, the furious assaults of the
Moslems were repulsed by the cool and determined courage of their
adversaries. On the bloody field of Cutanda, in an effectual attempt to
save the city of Calatayud, the Emir of Valencia left twenty thousand
of his bravest soldiers. The tide once turned, the misfortunes of the
Moslems followed each other in quick succession. The strongholds of the
North were absorbed by the increasing power of the kingdom of Aragon.
Portugal and much of the valley of the Douro, which had submitted to
Yusuf, were again incorporated into the states of Castile. The decadent
condition of his empire in the Peninsula provoked another raid from
Ali, at the head of a great African army, with even less decisive
results than had attended the former one. The incapacity of the
sovereign, in his far-distant capital, to protect his subjects from
the oppression of their governors, as well as to defend his frontiers
from the encroachments of the enemy, became daily more apparent.
The influence of the theologians, as might have been anticipated
from the peculiar disposition of Ali, was paramount. The faquis and
kadis were the true source of power, the dispensers of favor, the
pitiless instruments of oppression and vengeance. They stood at the
ear of every provincial magistrate and military commander,--officials
whose ignorance exaggerated the knowledge of their unprincipled
advisers,--and reaped the profits of spoliation and cruelty, while
their dupes bore the odium of their flagrant and shameless injustice.
Their intolerance arrayed them against all learning, even to the point
of decrying the most accomplished scholars of their own, the Malikite,
sect. No philosopher dared to openly entertain an heretical opinion.
Poets, formerly accustomed to affluence, wandered about clothed in
rags, and were constantly on the verge of starvation. The clerical
and judicial harpies who controlled the administration secured the
employment of Jews as farmers of the revenue, and divided with these
inexorable collectors the fruits of their rapacity and extortion. In
consequence of their rare opportunities, they soon became the richest
class in Andalusia. Ibn-Hamden, the Kadi of Cordova, surpassed all of
his brethren in wealth, his fortune being estimated at several million
pieces of gold. Encouraged by their example and success, the Berber
officers and soldiers robbed and persecuted the people, already driven
to despair by the exactions of corrupt functionaries acting under
the perverted authority of the law. They seized their property. They
intruded upon their privacy in the unrestrained indulgence of lust and
rapine. The wives and daughters of the most respected citizens could
not appear in the streets without danger of insult and violation. In
consequence of these abuses, the army became thoroughly demoralized,
the soldiers refused to face an enemy, and it became necessary to
enlist bands of mercenaries, gathered at random among the ports of
the Mediterranean, to garrison the principal cities. No attention was
paid to the remonstrances of the indignant and suffering victims. At
length the revolutionary spirit of Cordova again asserted itself. The
inhabitants rose, the Berbers were hemmed in and massacred, and not one
of the obnoxious race who dared to face the fury of the mob survived.
The appearance of Ali failed to awe the rebels, but the commencement
of a siege soon brought them to terms. Aware of the provocations they
had endured, the Sultan treated his seditious subjects with unusual
leniency, requiring only the pecuniary reimbursement of such of their
victims as had escaped with their lives and a liberal indemnity to
the families of the dead. It was while at Cordova that Ali received
the first intelligence of an insurrection in Africa, whose popularity
and progress were of evil augury for the permanence of the already
tottering Almoravide power.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE EMPIRE OF THE ALMOHADES

1121–1212

Rise of Abu-Abdallah, the Mahdi--His Character and Talents--He
rebels against Ali--His Eventful Career--Abd-al-Mumen succeeds
Him--Decline of the Almoravide Power in Spain--Raid of Alfonso
of Aragon--Rout of Fraga--Death of Alfonso--Indecisive Character
of the Campaigns in the War of the Reconquest--Progress of
Abd-al-Mumen in Africa--Victories of the Almohades--Natural
Hostility of Moor and Berber--Anarchy in the Peninsula--It
is invaded by the Africans--Establishment of the Almohade
Empire in Andalusia--Almeria taken by the Christians--Its
Recapture by the Berbers--Death of Abd-al-Mumen--His Genius and
Greatness--Accession of Yusuf--His Public Works--He organizes
a Great Expedition--He dies and is succeeded by Yakub--The
Holy War proclaimed--Battle of Alarcos--Effects of African
Supremacy--Death of Yakub--The Giralda--Mohammed--He attempts
the Subjugation of the Christians--Despair of the Latter--Battle
of Las Navas de Tolosa--Utter Rout of the Almohade Army.

The proverbial instability of the tribes of Northern Africa, habitually
dominated by the most abject superstition, the prey of successive
generations of religious impostors, incapable of systematized civil
organization, of moral consistency, of personal loyalty, was now to be
again demonstrated by a revolution that, in the principal circumstances
of its origin and progress, was almost the counterpart of the one
preceding it, which had made the polished and intellectual population
of Spain--justly proud of the traditions of the khalifate--tributary
subjects of a foreign and barbaric potentate. As with every race
brought suddenly in contact with the highest civilization without
passing through the intermediate phases incident to the regular and
predestined development of nations, the corruption and degeneracy
of the Berbers advanced with amazing rapidity. Amidst the hitherto
unknown allurements of luxury and vice, the primitive virtues of
generosity, courage, and hospitality disappeared. The fetichism of the
Desert was replaced by a spurious and absurd Mohammedan belief, which
retained, as essential parts of its doctrine, the most objectionable
and offensive principles of Paganism. The religious teachers of the
people, more deeply contaminated than their disciples and closely
allied with the Jews, whose worship and whose dogmas they held up to
reprobation in public and connived at in secret, had become monsters
of extortion, profligacy, and injustice. The martial tastes of Yusuf
had not descended to his son, who daily exhibited, to the delight of
the clergy and the astonishment of the people, the abasement of a
devotee, an example sufficiently edifying in a saint but strangely
unbecoming in a sovereign whose throne was sustained by arms, and whose
subjects were accustomed to subsist by conquest and rapine. No faqui
desirous of obtaining a reputation for piety prayed and fasted with
more persistent regularity than Ali. The greater part of his time was
passed in the mosque, and the administration, meanwhile, was usurped
by the clergy and the ladies of the court. The direct intervention
of women in public affairs was a practice heretofore unknown to the
Moslem constitution. During the reign of Ali, however, the wives and
concubines of great officials virtually controlled, by favor and
purchase, the policy of the government, trafficked in appointments of
the civil and military service, capriciously deposed high dignitaries,
and pardoned brigands and other malefactors condemned for atrocious
crimes. The contradictory mandates, and the uncertain execution of the
laws resulting from the conflicting interests and the indecision of
ambitious and corrupt females, produced inextricable confusion, and
provoked the scorn and resentment of the people. In Spain, far removed
from the capital of the empire, the prevalent disorder and oppression
reached its culmination; and even constant familiarity with military
abuses could not reconcile the citizens of the Andalusian capitals to
the intolerable insolence of the Almoravide soldiery.

About this time there appeared in the African dominions of Ali a new
reformer, half enthusiast, half charlatan, whose austerities and
denunciations of the prevalent luxury and impiety of the age at once
attracted the attention and inspired the reverence of the masses.
His name was Abu-Abdallah; his origin--designated by an appellation
referring to the calling of his father, a lamplighter in the mosque
of his native village--was most humble; but nature had endowed him
with talents which early marked him as a leader of men. His education,
acquired in the famous schools of Cordova, Bagdad, and Cairo, was far
superior to his rank, and, by assiduous study and extensive travel in
foreign countries, he had amassed a vast fund of knowledge, and had
obtained, even in the centres of Moslem learning, the reputation of
an accomplished controversialist and theologian. A pupil of the great
Al-Ghazzali, he had embraced with eagerness the doctrines of that
renowned philosopher, whose work, branded as heterodox and impious
by the clergy of Cordova, had been publicly consigned to the flames,
and its possession made a cause of relentless persecution by the
bigoted religious counsellors of Ali. The subsequent conduct of the
reformer might suggest to an observant and unfriendly critic that
this unfavorable reception of the dogmas of one of the most famous
teachers of Islam had not a little influence in forming the opinions
and determining the career of the ambitious young Berber student.
His education completed, Abu-Abdallah returned to his home among the
tribesmen of Masmoudah in the country of Sus. His travels and his
studies, directed by a keen and vigorous intellect, had given him
a profound insight into human nature, while the superiority of his
literary attainments obtained for him the greatest respect from the
simple and ignorant shepherds among whom his lot was cast. From the day
of his return, he affected an air of mystery well calculated to impose
upon a credulous and highly imaginative people. He assumed the title of
Al-Mahdi, or The Leader, a word synonymous with Messiah, a personage
whose advent has been predicted by the founders of almost every sect
of Oriental origin. He declaimed with audacity and eloquence against
the sins of the degenerate Moslems. In common with all reformers whose
success demands a real or apparent exhibition of sanctity, his life
afforded an edifying example of self-denial and of the practice of
the most austere virtue. His garments were scanty and of the coarsest
materials. His sole possessions consisted of a staff and a leathern
bottle. Subsisting upon alms, and sleeping in the court-yards of the
mosques, where, during the day, with impassioned oratory, he exhorted
the wayward to repentance, he did not remain long in solitude. Crowds
gathered to participate in his devotions and to enjoy the benefit
of his prayers. The erratic genius of the Berber, impressed with an
exhibition so congenial with its nature and actuated by the love of
novelty, soon recognized in the holy man a guide whose inspiration was
directly derived from heaven. Among the first of his disciples was
a youth of distinguished lineage and unusual personal attractions,
named Abd-al-Mumen, whom the Mahdi, as he was now universally
called, selected as his councillor, and whose talents for war and
executive ability, as soon became evident, were superior to those of
any individual of his time. Accompanied by a small band of followers,
the Mahdi advanced by easy stages to Morocco, the depravity of whose
citizens he constantly represented as worthy of the severest punishment
that could be inflicted by the wrath of an outraged Deity. It was not
without reason that he denounced the vices of the great Almoravide
capital. Although so recently founded, it already ranked with the
most opulent, the most splendid, the most dissolute of the cities of
the Mohammedan world. Its population had been gathered from three
continents; its commerce extended from the frozen zone to countries
far south of the equator; its profligate diversions equalled in their
shamelessness and monstrous variety the proverbial abominations of
ancient Carthage.

The first public act of the Mahdi after his arrival was one whose
unparalleled audacity was admirably calculated to establish the
sacredness of his pretended mission as far as the most distant
frontiers of the empire. On one of the Fridays of the festival of
Ramadhan, a great concourse had assembled in the principal mosque of
the capital to await the coming of the Sultan. Before the royal cortége
appeared, an emaciated figure, meanly clad and intoning in deep and
solemn accents verses from the Koran, strode through the assemblage
and seated itself, without ceremony, on the throne. The remonstrances
of the attendants of the mosque produced no effect on the intruder,
and even at the approach of Ali himself he retained his seat, while
the entire congregation rose and stood reverently in the presence of
their monarch. In the minds of devout Moslems, mental eccentricity
and insanity are not infrequently considered evidences of divine
inspiration; the most outrageous denunciations are received with
humility by the greatest potentates; and, encouraged by impunity, the
dervish and the santon, sure of the toleration of the sovereign and the
applause of the multitude, do not hesitate to violate every feeling of
decency and reverence in the prosecution of their schemes of imposture.
The existence of this superstitious prejudice prevented the molestation
of the Mahdi, whose reputation had preceded him, but whose person was
as yet unknown to the inhabitants of Morocco. Not content with usurping
his place, the audacious reformer even ventured, in scathing terms,
to reprove the Sultan in the presence of the assembly, and warned him
that if he did not correct the faults of his government and the vices
of his subjects he would be speedily called upon to render an account
of his neglect to God. The amazement and consternation of the Prince
were only exceeded by the apprehensions of the people, who awaited,
with equal anxiety, the accomplishment of a miracle or the outbreak of
a revolution.

From that day the religious authority of the Mahdi was established
throughout the African dominions of Ali. His audiences were numbered
by thousands. Proselytes in vast multitudes assented to his
doctrines, and his movements began to seriously occupy the attention
of the government, whose officials saw with unconcealed dread his
fast-increasing popularity and the effect which his harangues and his
ostentatious asceticism were producing upon the capricious and easily
deluded masses. He was examined by the ministers, some of whom advised
his immediate execution, but, as he had hitherto confined himself to
religious exhortations and had asserted no pretensions to the exercise
of temporal sovereignty, the impolitic clemency of Ali, unmindful of
the similar circumstances which had attended the elevation of his own
family to power, dismissed, unharmed, the most dangerous enemy of
his life and his throne. The lesson he had just been taught was not
lost on the wary impostor, who, of all distinctions, coveted least the
honors of martyrdom. He left the capital and repaired to Fez, where for
a considerable period he kept himself in seclusion, but, through his
devoted emissaries, still retaining and indeed increasing his influence
over the ignorant populace, deeply impressed with the mystery that
surrounded his movements as well as with the oracular messages with
which he nourished the curiosity and stimulated the expectations of his
followers. At length, without warning, he reappeared in the streets of
Morocco. The enthusiastic welcome he received made it apparent that
his popularity had been in no respect diminished during his absence.
His insolence and his extravagance now became more offensive than
ever. He denounced, in epithets conveying the greatest opprobrium, the
public and private conduct of the monarch and his court. Assisted by
his disciples, he seized the wine vessels in the bazaars and emptied
their contents into the streets. The sight of a musical instrument
roused him to fury and was the signal for its instant destruction, as
well as for the maltreatment of the owner. His piety could not tolerate
even the songs of mirth, and those who presumed to enjoy this harmless
amusement in his hearing were speedily silenced with a shower of blows.
The climax of impudence and outrage was attained when the Mahdi, having
one day encountered in one of the public thoroughfares of the capital
the sister of Ali, who, in compliance with the prevalent custom of the
Moorish ladies of Africa and Spain, had discarded the veil, roundly
abused her for this violation of the injunctions of the Prophet, and
ended by precipitating her from her saddle into the gutter, to the
horror and consternation of her numerous retinue. An offence of this
flagrant character committed by any one unprotected by the influence
of the grossest superstition would, under Oriental law, have been
instantly punishable with death. But the reverence entertained for the
sacred profession of the culprit, the general suspicion of his want
of responsibility, and a fatal indifference to his rapidly increasing
power suggested the imposition of an insignificant penalty, and the
bold and reckless innovator was banished from the city. In obedience
to the letter, if not to the spirit of his sentence, he betook himself
to a neighboring cemetery, erected there a miserable hovel, and,
surrounded by the significant memorials of the dead, began anew his
prophesies of impending evil and his declamations against the vice and
corruption of the dignitaries of the empire. The leniency with which
his offences had been treated by the authorities was distorted by fear
and fanaticism into persecution and injustice, and the violator of law
was at once exalted into a martyr. The passions of the ignorant were
then artfully aroused by representations that the life of their leader
was threatened, and a bodyguard of fifteen hundred well-armed soldiers
was organized to watch constantly over the safety of the self-styled
Messenger of God. The Sultan now began to realize, when too late, the
effects of his ill-timed indulgence. He sent a peremptory order for
the Mahdi to leave the vicinity of the capital. The latter, alleging
that he had already complied with the directions of his sovereign
as indicated by the sentence of banishment, and feeling secure in
the midst of his devoted adherents, at first declined to abandon
his position; but, on learning that measures were already taken for
his assassination, he fled in haste to the distant town of Tinamal,
where he had disclosed his pretended mission. There, in the mosque,
he first openly announced his claim to temporal power. A sympathetic
audience was excited to frenzy by his mysterious predictions and his
fervid eloquence; his claim to universal dominion as the Champion
of the Faith and the restorer of the purity of Islam was received
with vociferous applause by the multitude, and in the midst of the
turmoil Abd-al-Mumen and ten of his companions, rising and drawing
their swords, swore eternal fealty to their leader. Their example was
followed by the entire congregation; and thus, a second time, in the
centre of the Sahara was inaugurated a Mohammedan reformation the
precursor of a gigantic but unsubstantial and impermanent empire.
This decisive step had no sooner been taken than the Mahdi proceeded
to organize his government by the appointment of civil and military
officials. Abd-al-Mumen was made vizier; the ten proselytes who had
sworn allegiance in the mosque were united in a Supreme Council;
and the two subordinate bodies, composed respectively of fifty and
seventy disciples, were charged with the management of affairs of
inferior moment; the result of their deliberations being subject to the
approval or rejection of the Mahdi himself. The revolutionists, whose
numbers, daily recruited by accessions from the martial tribes of the
Desert, had now become formidable, assumed the name of Almohades, or
Unitarians, not only to distinguish them from the Christians, whose
trinitarian dogma and adoration of images caused them to be designated
by all Moslems as idolaters, but to indicate as well a return to
the original simplicity of Islam, long corrupted by the heterodox
practices and dissolute manners of their Almoravide rivals. A strange
and mysterious fatality seemed to attach to the fortunes of the latter
in every field where they encountered the armies of the newly arisen
Prophet. In four successive engagements the soldiers of Ali, seized
with a panic in the presence of the enemy, yielded almost without
resistance to the attack of the Berber cavalry; their standards and
baggage were taken, and thousands of fugitives, butchered in headlong
flight, expiated with the loss of life and honor their effeminacy and
their cowardice.

The opinion generally prevalent in the minds of the illiterate, that
military success is an infallible criterion of religious truth, began
to produce its effect on the Almoravides. The terror experienced
by them at the sight of the enemy--really due to relaxation of
discipline and apprehension of the miraculous powers of an audacious
charlatan--was universally attributed to supernatural influence. The
mission of the Mahdi required no further demonstration of its divine
origin. Henceforth his utterances were received by both friend and
enemy as the oracles of God. His credit daily increased among the
credulous and passionate inhabitants of the Desert. The Almoravide
soldiers shrank from an encounter with a foe whose white standard
seemed to be invested with the mystic qualities of a talisman. The
Mahdi, renouncing in a measure his character of affected humility,
now assumed the pomp of a sovereign. He surrounded himself with a
splendidly appointed bodyguard. His throne was approached by suppliants
for favor with the debasing and complicated ceremonial of Oriental
despotism. He demanded, in arrogant and menacing language, submission
and tribute from Ali, who, dejected by repeated misfortune, began to
share with his ignorant subjects the awe which enveloped the person
and the attributes of his triumphant and formidable adversary. The
plans of the latter had heretofore been accomplished without an
established base of operations, the camps of the Almohades being moved
from place to place over the drifting sands of the Desert; but now,
the direction of an army of twenty thousand men, the subsistence and
shelter of a vast multitude of non-combatants, and the dignity and
power of a new and growing political organization urgently demanded
a settled habitation and a recognized centre of authority. Among the
lofty crags of a mountain spur extending from the range of Tlemcen
to the Atlantic stood the village of Tinamal. Its retired situation,
its natural defences, its proximity to both the rich cities of the
coast and the fertile regions of the interior, the character of its
people, who were to a man ardent believers in the mission of the Mahdi,
made it an admirable point either for the inauguration of a conquest
or the institution of an harassing system of predatory warfare. It
was approached by narrow and tortuous paths which, winding along the
mountain side, disclosed, on the one hand, an inaccessible cliff, on
the other, an abyss whose depths were shrouded in perpetual gloom.
From its battlements, almost hidden in the clouds, the progress of a
hostile party could be watched for miles as, with slow and uncertain
steps, it pursued its hazardous way. In this mountain fastness the
Mahdi fixed his residence and established his capital. The natural
impediments in the path of an invader were greatly multiplied by the
artificial resources of engineering skill. Towers and fortresses were
raised at points commanding the various approaches to the mountain
stronghold. Drawbridges were thrown across roaring torrents. Walls and
gateways obstructed the passage, where an insignificant force might
with ease check the progress of a numerous army. The village of Tinamal
soon became a city, whose inhabitants, subsisting by the plunder of
their neighbors, became the scourge and the terror of the peaceable
and defenceless subjects of Ali. After a long sojourn in his seat of
power, the Mahdi, about to succumb to a fatal disease, determined to
signalize his closing days by an enterprise worthy of the pretensions
he had assumed and of the success which had hitherto favored his
undertakings. An army of forty thousand men was assembled for the
capture of Morocco. In a desperate conflict under the walls of that
city, the Almoravides, who outnumbered their opponents two to one, were
put to flight and pursued with terrible carnage to its gates. But the
fortunes of the Almohades, heretofore invincible, were now destined to
receive a serious blow. Unaccustomed to the conduct of a siege, the
soldiers of Abd-al-Mumen habitually neglected the precautions which,
in the presence of an enemy, are indispensable to the security of a
camp. Within the immense circuit of the capital were marshalled for
a final struggle the collected resources of the empire. Thousands of
fugitives from the recent disastrous battle had found an asylum behind
its walls. Reinforcements had been drawn from every African province
as well as from the diminished Andalusian armies, their own strength
already sorely taxed by repeated incursions of the Christian foe. The
constructing and handling of military engines were confided to a body
of Byzantine and Sicilian engineers enlisted for that purpose. The
soldiery was animated by the presence and the example of the Sultan,
who had for the time abandoned the Koran for the sword, and stood ready
to perform the part of a valiant and resolute commander. The citizens,
moved to desperation by the approach of an enemy whose relentless
character had been established by the massacre of fugitives and
prisoners, and from whose ferocity, aggravated by prolonged opposition,
they could expect no indulgence, co-operated manfully with the garrison
in the defence of their homes, their families, their property, and
their king. The first sallies of the Almoravides, conducted by leaders
trained to partisan encounters in the wars of Spain, were signally
disastrous to the besiegers. The latter, suddenly checked in an
uninterrupted career of victory, were disconcerted and dismayed, and
their confidence was shaken in proportion as the spirits of their
adversaries rose. Encouraged by success, the attacks of the latter
became more vigorous and determined; a general engagement followed,
the Almohades were routed with terrific slaughter, and it was only by
the exertion of strenuous effort that Abd-al-Mumen and a handful of
survivors were enabled to escape the lances of the Almoravide cavalry.
The depression caused by a single disaster was more potent in its
effect on the minds of the disciples of the Mahdi than the prestige
derived from a score of victories. The influence which had exercised
its mysterious sway over the imagination of all who had presumed to
dispute the claims of the impostor was perceptibly impaired. The fickle
tribesmen deserted his standard by thousands. But in the course of a
few years his eloquence and tact were able to repair the losses he
had sustained; another army commanded by Abd-al-Mumen issued from the
mountains, and a brilliant victory obtained over the followers of Ali
retrieved the honor and credit of the Almohade cause. The Mahdi did
not long survive his triumph. Overcome with the excitement occasioned
by the return of his soldiers with their array of spoil and captives,
he died, after having committed to the faithful Abd-al-Mumen the
accomplishment of the task of conquest and reformation which he had so
successfully begun.

Of all the prophets and reformers, the progenitors of dynasties, the
conquerors of kingdoms, the restorers of the Faith, which from its
origin have appeared in the domain of Islam, none possess a greater
claim to distinction than Abu-Abdallah, surnamed the Mahdi, the
founder of the sect of the Almohades. Without the commanding genius
and originality of Mohammed, he equalled that remarkable personage
in keenness of perception and energy of character, and far surpassed
him in education, in eloquence, in practical acquaintance with the
foibles and the prejudices of humanity. The suggestive examples
of his predecessors, who had attained to supreme power through
pretensions to inspiration and martial achievements, incited him to
establish for himself a political and religious empire. With more of
the charlatan and less of the soldier in his mental composition than
had characterized many reformers, he retained to the last his retiring
asceticism, but in case of emergency he did not hesitate to boldly
risk his life on the field of battle. No scholar was better versed
than he in the literature and science of his age. His sagacity was
proof against the insinuating arts of the most accomplished negotiator.
In the prosecution of his ambitious projects he never considered
the comfort or the safety of his followers; in the exaction of his
vengeance every sentiment of pity and indulgence was ruthlessly cast
aside. His influence over his disciples was maintained by appeals to
superstition and by arts of imposture congenial with the temperament of
the ignorant and the credulous. To conceal these frauds, the wretched
instruments by whom they had been effected were promptly put to death.
Such persons as were so unfortunate as to incur the enmity of the false
Prophet were buried alive. Such was the extent of his power over the
masses, that the crimes perpetrated by his orders or with his sanction
were regarded in the light of virtues; that his spurious claims to
divinity were accepted by entire nations who revered him even more
than his great prototype Mohammed, and who demonstrated their enduring
faith in his mission by raising his friend and successor, to whom his
authority had descended, to an equality with the greatest potentates of
the age.

While the victories of the Almohades in Africa were undermining the
already crumbling empire of Ali, his Spanish dominions were overrun
and wasted by Aragonese and Castilian armies. The supremacy of
the clergy which followed the rise of the Almoravide dynasty was
the signal for Christian persecution. In Andalusia, and especially
throughout the principality of Granada, where the Mozarabes abounded,
the Moslem theologians exercised with unrestricted severity the
congenial privilege of oppression. Churches and monasteries were
confiscated or destroyed under pretext of their construction since
the Conquest, acts of encroachment which, although in contravention
of the stipulations of Musa, had been tacitly ignored for centuries.
Taxes far in excess of those prescribed by Mussulman law were imposed
on the Christian tributaries. Under the most frivolous accusations
their property was seized. Every indignity which popular envy or
religious hatred could contrive was inflicted upon them. Their
endurance exhausted, the Mozarabes of Granada, who, through the medium
of Jewish merchants, had long held secret communication with their
Castilian brethren, an intercourse which had suggested and promoted
many a predatory expedition, now began to meditate permanent freedom
from conditions scarcely less intolerable than those of servitude.
The serious difficulties in which the Almoravide empire was involved;
the contemptuous indifference of its ruler to the complaints of his
subjects; the succession of Almohade victories; the withdrawal to
Africa of the flower of the Andalusian troops for the defence of
Morocco; the advance of the Castilian outposts, in the face of whose
encroachments the frontier was continually receding; the reconquest
of Saragossa, the last important Moslem bulwark in the North, all
encouraged the hope that the Christian domination and the Christian
faith might now be easily re-established from the Pyrenees to the
Mediterranean. Excited by ill-timed dreams of liberty, the Mozarabes
brought to bear every resource of solicitation and argument to tempt
an invasion by the Christian princes. They despatched secret envoys
to the court of Castile. They sent to Alfonso I., King of Aragon,
topographical descriptions of the country, enumerations of its armies,
information of the locations of its magazines and of the relative
position and respective strength of its fortresses, its castles, and
its arsenals. They promised their services as guides and pioneers.
They pledged the support of the Christian tributaries of Granada,
who, through the favor they had enjoyed under Hebrew ministers,
exceeded in numbers and wealth those of any other province of the
empire. To assurances of success, the Mozarabes enlarged upon the
attractions which characterized the most fertile and beautiful valley
in Andalusia. It was not strange that the cupidity of the Aragonese
cavaliers should have been excited by such a picture, or their
sovereign tempted by a prospect so flattering to his ambition. An
expedition was hastily organized, and at the head of twelve thousand
cavalry Alfonso entered the country of the enemy. But the enterprise
which promised such magnificent results terminated in inaction, which
was even more discreditable than defeat. The Mozarabes, faithful to
their engagements, joined the invader in multitudes. They conducted
his forces by unfrequented paths through the perilous defiles of the
mountains. They furnished their allies with money, provisions, horses,
and beasts of burden. Forty thousand volunteers swelled the ranks of
the Aragonese army. But for some inexplicable reason this great force
accomplished nothing. The King, whose resolution seemed to have failed
him before the bold provincials of Granada, retired discomfited from
the walls of Valencia, Xucar, Denia. The citizens of Baeza, whose
city was unprovided with defences, repulsed with severe loss the
formidable chivalry of the North, fighting under the eye of a sovereign
accustomed from boyhood to the perils and the stratagems of war. The
time lost by the Christians, who seemed incapable of appreciating the
advantages of surprise and attack, was diligently improved by their
adversaries. Temim, the brother of the Sultan and the governor of
Granada, collected reinforcements from every district of the Peninsula
held by the Almoravides. The troops which had been sent to Africa were
recalled. The fortifications of the capital, which at that time were
far from possessing the finished and impregnable character subsequently
imparted to them by the military genius and profuse expenditures of the
Alhamares, were improved and perfected as far as time and circumstances
would permit. The Mozarabes were placed under rigorous espionage. The
most obnoxious were imprisoned. Others were expelled from the city. A
large force was encamped on the slopes of the Sierra Nevada, but the
proximity of the Christians, whose outposts could be distinctly seen
from the battlements of the citadel, and the presence of thousands of
secret and implacable enemies, raised the most gloomy apprehensions in
the minds of the Moslems. In hourly expectation of an assault, crowds
assembled in the mosques, where the imams offered the supplications
prescribed by the Koran for seasons of extremity. Although the numbers
of the Christian army reached fifty thousand, the great majority of
which was composed of Mozarabe rebels, not ignorant of warfare and
nerved to despair by the remembrance of recent persecution and the
hopelessness of future immunity, it remained idly in its intrenchments.
Familiarity with the enemy gradually removed from the minds of the
Moors the fears which had been excited by overwhelming odds. The
flying Arab cavalry swept the plain of subsistence and forage. Small
parties of Christians were cut off. The rainy season arrived; the
streams overflowed; the dry ravines became impassable torrents,
and disease and want began to invade the hostile camp. Then Alfonso
determined to retreat. One way alone was open, for the mountains which
separated him from his kingdom were already white with snow, and the
active Moslems, anticipating a favorable turn of affairs, had long
since occupied the passes in his rear. Abandoning his allies, who had
sacrificed honor, allegiance, and liberty in obedience to his summons,
the King of Aragon marched southward. Threading the perilous defiles
of the Alpujarras, the Christians emerged at length upon the tropical
coast of Velez-Malaga. The cavaliers of the inhospitable North were
enchanted with the delightful prospect presented by the plantations of
cotton and sugar, the groves of oranges and palms, and the profusion of
odoriferous shrubs and flowers whose blossoms filled the air with their
fragrance. But the pleasures of this paradise could not be long enjoyed
by the invaders. Behind them the entire country was in arms. All the
forces available for that purpose had been collected throughout the
Moslem dominions to intercept their retreat. It was certain death for
a straggler to venture beyond the limits of the camp. Provisions could
be obtained with the greatest difficulty, owing to the fears of the
Mozarabes and the vigilance of the enemy. To add to the embarrassment
of the King, his following had been increased by the undesirable
presence of a great number of non-combatants, who consumed the supplies
while hampering the movements and diminishing the security of the
army. Ten thousand Mozarabes, many of whom were accompanied by their
families, preferring the doubtful issue of a military campaign and the
hardships of a long and tedious march to the certain severities of
Moorish vengeance, impeded the march of the Christians. It was hardly
consistent with the dictates of humanity to desert these refugees,
connected with his race by the double ties of blood and religion; and
Alfonso was forced, much against his will, to tolerate their presence
and assure them of his protection. After a few days’ sojourn at
Velez-Malaga, the army began its homeward march through the mountains
of Guadix. From that moment until the boundary of Aragon was reached,
its progress was marked by incessant battle. The country swarmed
with Moorish horsemen. The camp was repeatedly stormed. The noonday
halt, the passage of a stream, the approach to a mountain defile, was
certain to provoke a bloody encounter. Hundreds of exhausted women
and children, unable to bear the fatigue of the march, were, with
the wounded, daily abandoned to the rage of a vindictive enemy. When
Alfonso entered his capital, it would have been difficult to recognize
in his emaciated and dejected followers, whose ragged garments and
battered armor bore evidence of many a hotly contested skirmish, the
splendid array of knights which almost a year before had with exultant
confidence set forth, as upon a holiday excursion, to capture the city
of Granada. No enterprise in the wars of the Peninsula was inaugurated
under more brilliant auspices and was more unproductive of results.
The indecision with which its operations were conducted was itself a
precursor of disaster. The valor of the Aragonese chivalry was expended
in a series of fruitless and inglorious contests with Andalusian
mountaineers. The accomplishment of the main object of the expedition
was never seriously attempted. No victory contributed its lustre to
the waning reputation of the Christians. Not a foot of territory had
been added to the realms of the invader. No spoil consoled him for the
loss of glory, no prisoners swelled his train. Cities unprotected by
fortifications had successfully resisted the assaults of his bravest
soldiers. No substantial benefit could be derived from indecisive
engagements, protracted sieges, difficult marches through a hostile
country, forays unrewarded with either captives or plunder. It was
true that the Moorish states of Andalusia had been traversed from end
to end; that a portion of their territory had been desolated; that the
emblem of Christian faith had been displayed, for the second time since
the rout of the Guadalete, on the shores of the Mediterranean. These,
however, were but evidences of a barren triumph. The vulnerability of
the Moslem empire, since the fall of the khalifate, had been repeatedly
demonstrated. Predatory expeditions undertaken without the prestige
of royalty had often inflicted far more damage on the enemy than that
which had accompanied an invasion by picked troops of the Aragonese
kingdom. The only real advantage remained with the Moslems of Granada,
who were made acquainted with the disaffection of their Mozarabe
subjects, and were enabled to provide against future outbreaks by the
permanent suppression and removal of a treacherous population, which
had long been a menace to public security. The Mozarabes expiated
by poverty and chains, by exile and death, their ill-timed effort
to escape the vexations of Moslem rule. Their lands were forcibly
occupied by their Arab neighbors. Their effects were seized and sold
at auction. Hundreds expired amidst the noxious vapors of subterranean
dungeons. Such as had openly joined the Christian army were, with their
families, condemned to slavery, and were purchased by Jewish traders
to be again disposed of in the markets of Asia. The majority of the
others, by order of the Sultan, were banished to Africa, where, in the
vicinity of Mequinez and Salé, many of them eventually perished by
disease and famine. After the lapse of eleven years a final deportation
of these troublesome subjects, who seem to have given renewed cause
for offence, was effected; and the kingdom of Granada, which formerly
possessed the largest number of tributary Christians in the empire,
was now almost entirely deprived of this element of its population.
The places of the exiles were supplied by African colonists, whose
modern descendants, in their swarthy complexions, their curling locks,
and their general mental characteristics, have preserved unmistakable
tokens of their Mauritanian ancestry.

In the midst of his foreign and domestic tribulations, the death of
Temim, the Viceroy of Spain, brought fresh perplexity and sorrow to
the heart of Ali. A worthy successor of that able warrior was found,
however, in Tashfin, the promising heir of the Almoravide throne. The
youth of that prince proved rather an inducement than an objection to
his appointment to a responsible command. He gained several victories
over the Christians, ravaged the valley of the Tagus as far as the
gates of Toledo, and in a few short campaigns added to the possessions
of his father more than thirty fortresses and castles. Aragon, long
involved in hostilities with Castile, had recently obtained an
important accession of territory and power. Saif-al-Daulat, the son of
the last Emir of Saragossa, unable to hold the remaining cities of his
principality, harassed by Christian and Moslem alike, surrendered them
to Alfonso. The latter, desiring communication with the South,--still
closed by Moslem occupation,--pushed his advance along the valley
of the Ebro. Mequinenza was taken after a short resistance and its
garrison massacred. Then the Christian army invested Fraga. This
fortress, situated on a lofty and isolated mountain, was considered
one of the most impregnable places in the Peninsula, and, commanding
the navigation of the Ebro, was the key of Southern Aragon. The Moors,
recognizing its value, had removed all persons unable to bear arms; had
provided its magazines with provisions sufficient for a long siege,
and had manned its fortifications with a force of several thousand
veterans, who, warned by the fate of their brethren at Mequinenza, were
nerved to an obstinate defence. The siege was signalized by a series
of desperate encounters, in which both parties utilized every resource
of military stratagem and personal prowess. At the first appearance
of the Christians before the principal bulwark of the now contracted
Mussulman frontier, a general alarm had been sounded in all the cities
of Spain and Africa. The Emir, relieved for the time from apprehensions
of the Almohades, despatched a powerful army for the relief of Fraga.
With its ranks largely reinforced by Andalusian levies, the Berber
host, whose supplies were transported upon hundreds of camels, advanced
rapidly along the Ebro until it came in sight of the besiegers’
camp. Contrary to custom, but with a design whose wisdom soon became
fatally apparent, the convoy with the baggage preceded the main body
on the march. The soldiers of Alfonso, presuming that the camels were
loaded with provisions for the garrison, and deceived by the feeble
escort which protected them, rushed forward in tumultuous disorder
and attacked the guard. The latter retreated, and the Christians,
unwarily drawn into the mountain ravines, were surrounded. Almost
helpless in their confined situation, with enemies swarming on every
side and the air darkened with clouds of missiles, their army was soon
annihilated. The situation, which forbade alike successful defence or
orderly retreat; the bewildering sensations produced by the unexpected
apparition of myriads of ferocious warriors; the repeated charges which
by sheer force of numbers overpowered at once the foremost ranks of the
Aragonese; the countless stones and arrows which poured down from crag
and hillside, soon decided the bloody and unequal contest. Scarcely an
hour elapsed before the Christians succumbed to the superior numbers
and equal valor of their foes. One after another the bravest knights of
Aragon, together with the flower of the French and English chivalry,
whom crusading ambition and the love of adventure had allured to the
standard of Alfonso, were killed while protecting their king and their
commanders. With them were not a few of the highest dignitaries of
the church, who, exchanging the mitre for the helmet and the crosier
for the sword, had been accustomed, since the Visigothic domination,
to share the fortunes of the most arduous campaigns, and to unite in
the field and in the camp the duties of their peaceful profession with
the stern and merciless demands of war. These martial prelates nobly
sustained upon this occasion the reputation for courage which had for
centuries distinguished their order above that of any other country in
Europe. The bishops of Rosas, of Jaca, and of Urgel fell side by side,
sword in hand. The King, supported by fifty devoted followers, resisted
with desperate courage and hopeless firmness the assaults of the
Moslems, exasperated by the valor of a handful of determined men. His
fate, like that of Roderick the Goth, is unknown. The ecclesiastical
legends of the time have celebrated, as the most glorious events of
his life, his abandonment of the throne and his retirement to the
cloisters of a monastery in expiation of the sins for which his defeat
was assumed to be a token of divine displeasure. But the monkish
annals of the Middle Ages are notoriously unreliable; the minds of
their authors were clouded with ignorance and warped by prejudice; the
critical faculty, so indispensable to the correctness of historical
narration, was unfamiliar to them; and, to accomplish the degradation
of an enemy or the exaltation of a friend, they were capable of the
most disreputable inventions and the most extravagant perversions of
the truth.

From the character and the life of Alfonso, it is probable that
he perished with his attendants, and that his body, stripped and
unrecognized, was confounded with the thousands of other corpses
which encumbered the field of battle. The King of Aragon, who had won
the proud appellation of El Batallador, was not the man to retire in
the face of the enemy, even had it been possible. Still less would
he have been willing to surrender, that the captivity of the most
formidable of Christian champions should contribute to the glory of a
Moslem triumph. The temper of the age was pre-eminently favorable to
the exercise of imposture; an escape, procured through the miraculous
intervention of saints and angels, was perfectly congenial with the
superstitious ideas of the masses; and the selection of a religious
house as a place of refuge and voluntary penance by an humiliated and
contrite monarch could not fail to enhance the importance and extend
the influence of the ecclesiastical order, already becoming intolerable
for its arrogance and power. But, whatever may have been the ultimate
fate of Alfonso, it is certain that his disappearance dates from the
battle of Fraga. The most exhaustive historical research has failed
to establish his existence subsequent to that melancholy and eventful
day. His loss was a great but not an irreparable misfortune to the
cause of the Reconquest. Although at the time of his death he was the
most conspicuous figure in the Christian armies, others were soon found
capable of prosecuting the work he had so gallantly begun, and of
carrying to a successful issue the fierce and relentless crusade which
only ended under the walls of the Alhambra.

As in former ages the progress of the Moslems was retarded and the
stability of their empire endangered and finally undermined by
intestine quarrels, so now, on the other hand, the jealousies and
contentions of the rival kingdoms of Castile and Aragon were destined
to prolong for centuries their struggle for national and religious
supremacy. The intrigues of hostile chieftains, the greed and ambition
of the clergy, the passions of dissolute and unprincipled women, the
unnatural aversion of two nations identical in origin, proud of the
same traditions, professing the same theological dogmas; the prejudices
of the fanatical masses, absolutely controlled by a despotic and
ignorant priesthood, were all-important factors in determining the
policy of the as yet unorganized Christian states of the Peninsula.
The mutual hostility of the kingdoms subsequently united under
Ferdinand and Isabella insured the continuance of Moorish dominion
far more effectually than the levying of contributions, the forming
of alliances, the enlistment of armies. Bodies of Moslem mercenaries
served alternately with the troops of both contending parties, and
those who fought side by side to-day might meet as enemies to-morrow.
Not infrequently impoverished and unscrupulous vassals of the Christian
monarchs were induced to revolt before a projected invasion by the
judicious employment of Moorish gold. Thus arrayed against each other,
with treachery in their camps and foes in their rear, the Spanish
princes were constantly hampered in the execution of their plans of
conquest. Other causes contributed to their want of success. The
Christian generals could often win, but were seldom disposed to improve
a victory. Feudal independence, now first interposed as a disturbing
force, was implacably hostile to discipline; the vassal obeyed his
suzerain; but the noble whose origin was often as illustrious as that
of his king was only too ready to question, or even to defy, the regal
authority. The incapacity to appreciate the resultant advantages of
military success was also a characteristic of the Moors. A great
battle usually ended a campaign. But the enemy was rarely pursued
beyond the field; his camp was overrun by a disorganized mob in search
of plunder; his baggage was ransacked; his seraglio appropriated; his
wounded massacred. The dispersed remnants of his army were afforded
abundant time to reorganize and to again become formidable. The
ability of the Moslems to profit by the discomfiture of an adversary
disappeared with the great soldier Al-Mansur. Generations were to
elapse before the Spanish commanders, recognizing untiring energy as
an indispensable requisite of permanent success, were enabled to plant
their banners on the towers of Cordova and Seville. In no great contest
described in history were such fierce battles fought, such bodies of
men dispersed, such losses of life sustained, and such paltry results
accomplished. On more than one occasion a sovereign, the moral effect
of whose capture would have been almost equivalent to a great victory,
was suffered to escape from the very hands of the enemy. In a few weeks
a force which had been apparently destroyed confronted the victor as
defiantly as ever. The defenceless condition of the Moslem states had
been thoroughly established. Their territory had been penetrated in
every direction by squadrons of Christian cavalry, whose numbers, when
compared with the inhabitants of the provinces they despoiled, were
insignificant. The invaders dispersed with ease large bodies of the
effeminate Andalusian horsemen. They encamped with impunity in the
vicinity of populous cities. But these expeditions accomplished but
little more than the destruction of a few harvests and the burning of a
few villages. The campaigns on both sides were ordinarily distinguished
by fraternal discord, military incapacity, and fatal indecision.

The correctness of these observations may be established by recurring
to the consequences of the battle of Fraga. The rout of the Christians
and the death of their king would certainly seem to have demanded a
vigorous prosecution of hostilities by the victors before the popular
demoralization resulting from such a catastrophe subsided. But nothing
of the kind took place. The few survivors of the defeat which had
wrecked the hopes of a nation spread dismay through the realms of the
Christians. In Aragon, part of whose territory had recently been ceded
by a degenerate prince to his hereditary enemies, and none of which
was in sympathy with the usurpation of their detested masters, the
people expected, with eager but fallacious hopes, the appearance of the
deliverer. The merchants lounged idly in their shops. The peasantry,
with sullen patience, submitted to the extortions of the Jewish farmers
of the revenue. Saragossa was still, in all but name and government, a
Moslem city. The muezzin still announced from her minarets the hour of
prayer. The imam still read the Koran from the pulpits of her mosques.
Her occupation by the Aragonese had only served to intensify the hatred
entertained by her citizens against those who had profited by their
betrayal. The noble recalled with mingled sorrow and exultation the
military fame and intellectual pursuits of the royal House of Ibn-Hud;
the husbandman viewed with unconcealed resentment the encroachments
of the Church and the Crown upon his small but valuable inheritance.
The valley of the Ebro still possessed many fortresses defended by
natural impediments and Moslem valor. All these considerations invited
the intervention of the victors, but the Moorish commander, satisfied
with the barren laurels acquired at Fraga, neglected an opportunity
which might have restored to the Almoravide Sultan one of the most
important provinces of his empire. For several years the frontier
was wasted by implacable partisan warfare; the Moslems carried into
slavery the populations of entire communities; the Christians, harassed
by the enemy and encumbered with their prisoners, frequently put
these defenceless victims of their hostility to the sword; in the
heat of battle quarter was neither asked nor given, and the struggle
assumed more than ever the character of a war of extermination. The
country devastated by these incessant and destructive inroads never
recovered its prosperity. The once beautiful regions of the Ebro and
the Pisuerga now present to the eye the sombre and monotonous aspect
of a desert, and portions of the valley of the Guadalquivir, which
under Moorish rule were clothed with extensive orchards and luxuriant
harvests, have lapsed into primeval desolation. The ruthlessness with
which these wars were prosecuted bears ample testimony to the savage
inhumanity of that age. Considerations of mercy seldom influenced the
conduct of the victor. Engagements contracted under circumstances
of peculiar solemnity were violated without provocation and without
excuse. In the perpetration of these enormities the Christians,
encouraged and absolved by their spiritual advisers, far surpassed
their antagonists. No attention was paid to the pitiful appeals of
enemies stricken in the heat of battle. The heads of rebellious princes
were fixed on the battlements of cities; their limbs, embalmed with
campher, were exhibited as trophies in the palace of the conqueror.
When a place was taken by storm, neither age, nor sex, nor infirmity
were regarded by the infuriated assailants. The discovery of hidden
gold by the application of torture was a favorite amusement of the
Christian soldiery. If the number of captives became inconveniently
large, the least valuable were butchered. The licentious passions of
the Castilians were exercised without restraint upon the weak and the
defenceless. Women were violated before the eyes of their husbands and
fathers. The mansions of Christian nobles rivalled in their treasures
of Moorish beauty the harems of the most voluptuous Andalusian princes.
In the alluring diversions of sensuality, unsanctioned by law and
prohibited by religion, the dignitaries of the Church were as ever
pre-eminently conspicuous; and their lovely concubines, attired with a
magnificence only to be procured by the use of ecclesiastical wealth,
appeared at court with their lords, equally careless of unfavorable
comment or of public scandal.

In Africa the movements of Abd-al-Mumen, who had been the general
of the Almohades and was now their sovereign, began to excite the
alarm of Ali. The successor of the Mahdi began his reign with an
expedition whose destructive course extended to the city of Morocco.
Tashfin, the ablest of the Almoravide captains, was recalled from
Spain; but, despite his reputation and the skilful disposition of his
forces, the battalions of Ali, dominated by a craven and superstitious
fear, instinctively recoiled from the presence of the enemy. All the
experience and resolution of the youthful prince, who had redeemed the
Moslem cause in the Peninsula, were insufficient to counteract the evil
influence emanating from religious fraud, which, by the force of a
distempered imagination, could transform a bold and courageous people
into a race of poltroons and slaves. His continual reverses preyed upon
the mind of Ali, and his moments were distracted by the signs of the
imminent and apparently inevitable collapse of his power. The memory of
his early grandeur offered a distressing contrast to the misfortunes
of his declining years; and, overcome with mortification and sorrow,
he passed from life, bequeathing to his son Tashfin a disheartened
army, an exhausted treasury, and a royal inheritance of diminished
jurisdiction and doubtful value.

The ill-fortune of Tashfin followed him upon the throne. Defeated by
Abd-al-Mumen, he collected all his resources for a supreme and final
effort. Such of the Desert tribes as had held aloof from the Mahdi were
enlisted. Every available soldier in Africa was called to arms. The
garrisons of Andalusia were almost denuded of troops. With the Moorish
squadrons of Spain came also a body of four thousand Mozarabes, who,
accustomed to long service under Moslem standards, had almost forgotten
their ancestry, their traditions, and their faith. These auxiliaries,
amenable to discipline and experienced in border warfare, were far more
formidable than their scanty numbers would denote.

On the plains of Tlemcen the two armies whose valor was to decide the
fate of an empire faced each other. The Almoravides far outnumbered
their foes, but the mystic spell of superstition more than compensated
for numerical superiority; the soldiers of Tashfin were terrified by
imaginary apparitions and supernatural voices, and after a brief but
sanguinary contest Abd-al-Mumen remained master of the field. Tashfin
was soon afterwards killed in the vicinity of Oran by a fall from a
precipice, and with his death vanished the last hope of the Almoravide
monarchy.

During the year 1145 a famous landmark of the Mediterranean, of unknown
antiquity, but most probably of Phœnician origin, was destroyed.
Near the city of Cadiz, and built in the waters of the bay, had long
stood a structure composed of a series of columns, rising above each
other to the height of one hundred and eighty feet and surmounted by
a colossal statue of bronze. The latter represented a man with his
right arm extended towards the Strait of Gibraltar and grasping in his
hand a key. The entire statue was heavily plated with gold, and was
a conspicuous object for a distance of many leagues. Its origin was
not less mysterious than the reason for its preservation for nearly
four centuries and a half after the Moslem conquest. The well-known
iconoclastic propensities of the followers of Mohammed were indulged
with every opportunity and against every symbol of idolatrous worship.
There was probably no souvenir of Pagan antiquity in Africa or Spain
so prominent and so well known as the effigy which, for a period
unrecorded even by tradition, indicated to the mariner the gateway of
the Mediterranean. The Romans and the Goths, confounding it with the
two historic promontories of Europe and Africa, called the imposing
structure that supported it the Pillars of Hercules. But it certainly
had no connection with that divinity. His temple stood some miles
away upon an island, and it was the distinctive peculiarity of his
worship among the Phœnicians that he was never represented under a
physical form. To the Arabs the statue was known as “The Idol of
Cadiz.” A singular fatality had preserved it from the zeal and fury of
early sectaries of Islam. It had, no doubt, often awakened the pious
horror of devout pilgrims on their way to the shrine of the western
Mecca. It had stimulated the curiosity of the antiquary during the
scientific period of the khalifate. It had pointed the way to many
an invading squadron. It had witnessed the success or the failure of
many revolutions. The truculent Norman pirates had viewed its gigantic
dimensions with superstitious terror. In the sagas of Scandinavia
is preserved the tradition that St. Olaf and his freebooters were,
during the eleventh century, deterred from further prosecution of
their ravages on the coast of the Peninsula by a vision which its
presence inspired. Its immunity from the effects of fanaticism is
not less remarkable than its long exemption from the violence of
rapacious marauders. A great treasure was said to be concealed beneath
the foundations of the tower. It was also the general belief--not
confined to the Peninsula, but prevalent throughout Europe--that this
famous statue was of solid gold. Its brilliancy, which had remained
untarnished by exposure for so many centuries, tended to confirm, if
not to absolutely establish, this opinion.

At last, in the twelfth century, the Admiral Ibn-Mamun, having revolted
against the Almoravides, caused the statue to be overthrown and broken
to pieces. The material was then discovered to be bronze, but the gold
with which it was covered brought twelve thousand dinars, a sum now
equal to a hundred and ninety-two thousand dollars.

Relieved of all apprehensions from his most dangerous adversary,
Abd-al-Mumen attacked and captured in succession the great cities of
Africa. Fez offered a desperate resistance, but was taken by damming
the river by which it was traversed, until the pent-up waters, bursting
their bounds, swept away a large portion of the walls. Mequinez,
Aghmat, Salé capitulated. Then the siege of Morocco was begun. To
convince the inhabitants of his inflexible purpose, the Almohade
general caused a permanent encampment, which resembled, in the regular
and substantial character of its edifices, a handsome and well-built
city, to be constructed before its walls. The enterprise was prosecuted
with unusual pertinacity and vigor. In a sally a large detachment
of the Almoravides was decoyed into an ambuscade and cut to pieces,
and, with numbers sensibly reduced by this catastrophe, the garrison
confined itself for the future to repelling the scaling parties of
the enemy. The complete investment of the city was soon followed by
famine. The dead lay everywhere in ghastly heaps. The living drew
lots to decide who should be sacrificed to provide a horrible repast
for his perishing companions. Such was the awful mortality that two
hundred thousand persons died of starvation and disease. Aware of the
inevitable consequences of surrendering to barbarians without faith
or mercy, the garrison contended bravely against hope and fortune.
Finally, some Mozarabe soldiers entered into communication with
Abd-al-Mumen, and it was agreed that a gate should be opened during
the disorder attending a general attack. At daybreak the Almohades,
eager for revenge and booty, swarmed into the city. The scimetar
and the lance completed the work which famine had not had time to
finish. Seventy thousand defenceless persons were massacred. Even this
frightful sacrifice did not satiate the besiegers’ desire for blood.
For three days such scenes were enacted as could only be tolerated
among men insensible to motives of humanity and ignorant of the laws
of war. Abd-al-Mumen decapitated with his own hand Abu-Ishak, the son
and successor of Tashfin. The command then went forth that not one of
the hated sect should be spared. Great numbers of women and children
were slaughtered by the savage conquerors and the survivors sold into
slavery. Every mosque was levelled with the ground as the only way
to purify the houses of God from the abominations of the heretical
Almoravides. Preparations were immediately made to erect upon their
sites others more extensive and magnificent, and Abd-al-Mumen, who all
the while had remained outside the gates, marched away to other scenes
of conquest.

A century had elapsed since Abdallah-Ibn-Jahsim had announced to
the tribesmen of Lamtounah his mission as the apostle of political
integrity and religious reformation. Based upon his teachings, and
supported by his military genius and the prowess of his followers, a
mighty empire had arisen. With incredible rapidity it had combined
in apparently indissoluble union contending nationalities, hostile
dogmas, antagonistic temporal interests. It had subjugated a great
part of the continent of Africa. It had reconciled the discordant
social and political elements which for generations had disturbed the
peace and diminished the power of the Moslem states of Spain. It had
checked the progress of Christian conquest. By its sweeping victories
it had revived the memory of the splendid achievements of the Western
Khalifate. The largest armies that had ever trodden the soil of the
Peninsula had marched under its banners. Its chiefs were, without
exception, men of signal ability. Some, it is true, were destitute of
experience in the art of government, but endowed with rare executive
talents; others were warriors of established renown; all had exhibited
in the exalted post to which they had been called by fortune the
qualities of great generals, diplomatists, legislators. The genius of
the last of that princely race, had his designs not been frustrated
by the Almohade revolution, promised the eventual restoration of
Moorish rule over much, if not all, of the territory included in the
kingdoms of Aragon and Castile. The rise and progress of no dynasty
to boundless power had been so rapid; the decline of none had been
more decided or its extinction more destructive and fatal. Mohammedan
Spain, still the most civilized and polished of countries, whose court
had once dictated the policy of Western Europe; whose alliance had
been assiduously courted by Christian kings and emperors; whose armies
marched each year to victory; whose fleets monopolized the trade of
the seas; whose capital was the literary centre of the world, had been
degraded to a dependency of the most ignorant, the most superstitious,
the most brutal of nations. The hazardous experiment of establishing
a peaceable union between such incongruous and inimical populations
must have resulted in failure. Still less could such an undertaking
have succeeded when attempted by force. The ethnical elements of
Spain and Africa could never have coalesced into a single people.
Their enmity was irreconcilable. Their tastes were dissimilar. The
Hispano-Arab was a scholar, a philosopher, a gentleman. In spite of
the evils which afflicted his country, his colleges and academies
were still largely attended by the ambitious youth of distant, often
of hostile, nations. He still had access to the fragmentary remains
of the great libraries of the khalifs. The architectural monuments
of his ancestors still graced, in all their splendor and beauty, the
esplanades and thoroughfares of his capitals. Pilgrims still admired
with astonishment and rapture the most magnificent temple of Islam.
The sacred volume ascribed to the martyred Othman, enshrined in its
embossed and jewel-studded casket, still received, amidst the lavish
sculpture and sparkling enamels of the Mihrab, the reverential homage
of the Faithful. The diminished but not unimportant commerce of his
seaports; the manufacturing establishments, whose products were largely
exported to foreign countries; the contracted but marvellously fertile
area of his agricultural territory, daily reminded the Spanish Moslem
of the wisdom and the enterprise developed by the subjects of that
glorious empire whose institutions, whose traditions, whose refined
tastes, whose intellectual pre-eminence he had inherited.

Far different was it with the conqueror who had appropriated and
abused the inestimable remains of all this greatness. From first to
last his movements seemed to have been inspired by the genius of
disorganization and ruin. The noble attributes of piety and magnanimity
were absolutely foreign to his nature. He spared no foe. He forgave no
injury. The essential doctrines of the religion he nominally professed
were in reality unknown to him. He was wholly ignorant of letters. In
the gratification of his savage passions the shedding of blood took
precedence of the grovelling instinct of avarice or the more gentle
allurements of licentious pleasures. His stolid nature could not
appreciate the charms of art, the benefits of science, the delights and
the consolations of literature, the advantages of philosophy. All that
did not contribute to sensual enjoyment he turned from with disdain.
Descended from a race of brigands, who had from time immemorial
exercised on the caravans of the Desert the stratagems and the violence
of their nefarious calling, he considered the menial and sedentary
occupations of agricultural and manufacturing industry as only fit for
the hireling and the slave. Ever accustomed to individual freedom, he
obeyed only the orders of his sheik, who owed his promotion to the
suffrage of the tribe, and who was often elected or deposed with equal
haste and facility. The monarch was frequently as unlettered as his
meanest subject. Yusuf could neither read nor write, and understood but
imperfectly the copious and polished idiom spoken in many provinces
of his dominions. Ali was less intelligent than many a youth in the
primary schools of Cordova. This wide-spread and deplorable contempt
for learning virtually placed the power of the state in the hands of
a class least qualified to wield it; and the intrigues and exactions
of the Mohammedan clergy, supplemented with African barbarism and
rapacity, contributed more than domestic convulsions or Christian
valor to finally subvert the unstable but still majestic fabric of the
Saracen power.

The Moslem factions of the Peninsula joined in precarious union under
the sceptre of the Almoravides beheld with dismal forebodings the
successive and crushing misfortunes which preceded the extinction of
that dynasty. Neither religious accord nor political necessity would
have reconciled them to the domination of a race between whose members
and themselves there existed an irreconcilable antipathy. But on
many points of theological controversy the liberal views of the most
learned Moorish doctors shocked the strict disciplinarians of Islam.
These accomplished polemical scholars had imbibed in the Universities
of Seville and Cordova ideas highly offensive to the severely orthodox;
they had indulged their wit at the expense of hypocrisy and ignorance
in the intellectual atmosphere of the court, and the vengeance of those
who were recently the objects of their satire had now descended with
redoubled force upon the thoughtless aggressors. All books except the
Koran and the Sunnah fell under the royal displeasure. The study of
philosophy, although prohibited in the schools, was, as is usual under
such circumstances, diligently pursued in secret. The intellectual
habits of centuries were not to be abolished by an imperial edict,
and the reprobation of a band of hypocrites and zealots who preached
self-denial and abstemiousness, and were notoriously guilty of the
grossest offences against morality, was unable to entirely suppress
the accumulation and the diffusion of knowledge. No country in
Europe, however, was more exclusively and disastrously controlled by
ecclesiastical influence than was Moorish Spain under the rule of the
Almoravides.

Aside from theological considerations, as has been previously stated,
universal dissatisfaction with the dominant race existed. The Africans
were regarded as foreigners, invaders, oppressors. They had, even in
their moments of leisure, contributed nothing to the material wealth
of the country. They were unacquainted with the simplest principles of
engineering or the adaptation of the mechanical arts to the ordinary
concerns of life. No structure worthy of notice had risen under their
auspices. Their native ferocity remained unmitigated in the midst of
the humanizing influences of civilization. They discouraged manual
labor and despised the occupations by which that labor was employed
and maintained. Thus harassed by theological intolerance and barbarian
tyranny, every sect and party in the Peninsula, except the one in
power, received with secret exultation intelligence of the serious
disasters to the Almoravide cause. Public feeling was already aroused
to a point which almost defied restraint, when news arrived of the
defeat and death of Tashfin, whose well-known abilities and courage
had heretofore alone prevented a revolt. It was then that the long
suppressed and furious passions of an outraged people found expression.
In every Moslem community the mob rose against their African tyrants.
Ibn-Gamia, the lieutenant of Tashfin, fled to the Balearic Isles.
Complete anarchy prevailed. Governors of provinces and commanders of
fortresses aspired to independence. Each city became the capital of a
miniature kingdom, each castle the seat of a principality. Forgetting
the imminent peril in which they stood, environed as they were by
powerful enemies, these petty sovereigns immediately turned against
each other. Civil war of the most sanguinary and vindictive character
was inaugurated. Cordova deposed her governor, installed another,
and, after eight days, recalled the first to power. At Granada the
Almoravide garrison was besieged for months in the citadel. In some
provinces the inconstant temper of the multitude, which selected and
murdered their rulers with equal alacrity, made the promotion to
supreme authority, usually so coveted by ambitious men, a distinction
of the most doubtful and invidious character. The Kadi of Cordova,
whose office retained to a considerable extent the dignity and
importance with which it was invested under the khalifs as the first
judicial employment in the empire, was assassinated while at prayer
in the mosque. The appearance of an African in the streets of any
Andalusian city immediately provoked a riot. The obligations of
hospitality were forgotten in the gratification of vengeance. Obnoxious
ministers were poisoned amidst the festivities of the banquet. Military
officers whose loyalty interposed obstacles to the ambition of obscure
and unprincipled adventurers were murdered while asleep. The dangerous
aid of the Christian princes, only too willing to contribute to the
mutual embarrassment and enmity of their Mussulman neighbors, was
invoked. Ibn-Gamia had succeeded in organizing a considerable party of
adherents, and had obtained from Alfonso VII., King of Castile, a body
of troops on condition of the acknowledgment of the latter as suzerain.
Baeza was the first place to submit to Ibn-Gamia, and its surrender was
immediately followed by the siege of Cordova. In this singular warfare,
Moslems and Christians, although their efforts were directed against
a common enemy, fought and encamped apart, serving independently
under their respective commanders. The Castilians, conscious of their
power, treated their allies with undisguised contempt, and haughtily
ascribed to Christian valor alone the achievement of every successful
enterprise. The venerable capital, incapable of prolonged resistance,
soon opened its gates to the besiegers. The entry of the Christians
was rendered memorable by the commission of a sacrilege in comparison
with which the profanations of former conquerors were trivial. The
Great Mosque of Abd-al-Rahman, one of the holy places of Islam, which
since its foundation had never been profaned by the presence of an
infidel, was invaded by the rude Castilian soldiery. They rode through
its court, fragrant with the odors of innumerable orange blossoms. They
tethered their war-horses in its arcades. They bathed in the basins
whose waters had hitherto been sacred to the ablutions of the Moslem
ceremonial. Inside the edifice raised by the tribute of Christian
cities and the spoils of a hundred victorious campaigns, they
sauntered through the colonnades and gazed with wonder upon the Mihrab
blazing with all the gorgeous magnificence of the East. The religious
sentiments and prejudices of their allies received no consideration
at the hands of these scoffing mercenaries. Despite the remonstrances
of the Moslems, they desecrated the precincts of the sanctuary. Some
mounted the pulpit and derided with indecent mockery the postures
and genuflexions of the Mussulman worship. Their eyes glared with
unrestrained cupidity upon the casket of sandal-wood and ebony enriched
with gems which contained the Koran of Othman. With flippant and
sneering comments they examined that volume, venerated by the Moslems
of every age and nation with all the superstitious reverence of
idolatry. They removed it from its receptacle, turned over its leaves,
and gazed with incredulity and contempt on the mysterious stains which
tradition and faith attributed to the blood of the murdered Khalif.
In their intercourse with the citizens their overbearing demeanor and
insatiable rapacity caused the encroachments of Moslem tyranny to be
almost forgotten. Their leaders, assuming all the credit of a conquest
in which they had figured in a subordinate capacity, demanded that
Cordova be added to the realms of Castile. This proposition, repugnant
to every sense of justice, was promptly rejected by the Moslems. A
serious altercation followed; the rival captains mutually refused to
yield, and a collision seemed imminent, when through the adoption of
prudent counsels matters were adjusted by the cession of Baeza, which
was immediately occupied by a detachment of Christian troops.

The subjection of Africa by the Almohades had scarcely been effected
when Abd-al-Mumen began to take measures for the establishment of
his power in the Peninsula. An army of thirty thousand soldiers,
commanded by Abu-Amrah-Musa, landed at Algeziras. The march of this
formidable army resembled a triumphal progress rather than the
cautious movements of a hostile force. The people, with characteristic
inconstancy, welcomed the savage invaders as the deliverers of their
country. Algeziras, with its ample port and well-provided magazines
and arsenals; Tarifa, with its impregnable defences; Xeres, with its
wealth of orange groves and vineyards, opened their gates to the enemy.
Then Abu-Amrah, flushed with success, pushed on to Seville. On the
march his ranks were swelled by numerous accessions from the peasantry,
actuated by the prospect of plunder and the hope of retribution. To
these undisciplined but serviceable recruits was added a considerable
and well-equipped reinforcement from the province of Badajoz. Seville
had remained nominally loyal to the Almoravides; but her population
was divided by faction, and thousands of citizens cherished in secret
implacable resentment against their cruel and avaricious masters.
Warning was conveyed to the garrison of the treasonable intentions of
the populace, which had promised to deliver the city to the Africans,
and it escaped to Carmona before the appearance of the enemy. Seville
was no sooner occupied than Malaga, always susceptible to African
influence, and whose inhabitants had probably long been cognizant of
the projected invasion, voluntarily submitted to the Almohades and
added another to their list of bloodless but decisive triumphs.

The memory of the exploits of the Almoravide generals, and the
appearance of a new and victorious enemy in the South, had reconciled
the quarrels of the Christian states far more effectually than all
the concessions of diplomacy or the exhortations and anathemas of
the Church. Envoys from the Italian republics of Venice, Pisa, and
Genoa had recently visited the Castilian court and represented to
the King the important service he could confer upon Christendom by
the suppression of the pirates who, from their stronghold at Almeria,
threatened the destruction of commerce on the Mediterranean. The
depredations of these adventurous rovers carried terror into every
part of Southern Europe. Their vessels swept the coast from Bayonne
to Constantinople, defied the combined navies of Italy and the
Empire of the East, and had already materially reduced the wealth
and disturbed the trade of many populous and important cities. It
seems extraordinary that under such circumstances application for
relief should have been made to the remote kingdom of Castile. It was
separated from Almeria by the entire length of the Spanish Peninsula.
Vast tracts of barren lands, provinces swarming with a hostile and
warlike population, were interposed between its plains and the tropical
coast of Andalusia. A formidable enemy had just established himself in
the most fertile districts of the South. The port of Malaga, in close
proximity to the destination of the expedition, was in his power. It
is true that the republics of Italy, united by a common faith and
sympathizers in a common cause, had long been allies of the Christian
kingdoms of Northern Spain. But something more than hatred of the
Moslem and devotion to the interests of the Church must have impelled
Alfonso VII. to undertake an enterprise of certain difficulty and of
doubtful success. A foe that had vanquished a dynasty whose armies
had repeatedly desolated his kingdom and insulted his capital already
menaced his borders. It is highly probable that the Pope, influenced by
temporal far more than by spiritual considerations, may have proposed
or even dictated the terms of this alliance. It was no unusual thing
for the Holy Father, whose vow of poverty, like many other moral
obligations, gave him little concern, to share in the profits of
commerce. The private revenues of His Holiness, often inadequate to the
prodigal expenditures required for the pomp and luxury of the Vatican,
could easily be increased by mercantile speculations, and the Moorish
corsair in his indiscriminate depredations would certainly not respect
the property of the highest dignitary of a hostile faith. The character
of Eugenius III. gives color to this hypothesis. His court, under the
threadbare cloak of asceticism, was shockingly corrupt. The institution
of begging friars, the imposition of frequent penances, the observation
of fasts, the performance of pilgrimage, could not conceal from the
eyes of the least discerning the universal and notorious profligacy
which infected every profession and every class of society in Rome. The
avarice of the Pope himself was proverbial. Blessings, indulgences,
and absolutions, whose prices were regulated by an established tariff,
were sold by the clergy, and wealthy or repentant sinners in multitudes
availed themselves of the facilities for wickedness or of the immunity
from ecclesiastical censure afforded by traffic in this spiritual
merchandise. The mercenary and grasping disposition of Eugenius
was also subsequently confirmed by his sale of Portugal to Alfonso
Henriquez, in flagrant contravention of the rights of the King of
Castile. These circumstances serve to explain the unprofitable siege
of a distant seaport by a power having no immediate interest in its
subjugation, when a vigorous campaign by the united Christians would
in all probability have prevented the renewed calamities of African
invasion and have materially accelerated the progress of the Reconquest.

The sacred character of an enterprise openly patronized by the Holy
See, and directed by some of the greatest princes of Europe, attracted
volunteers from every country in Christendom. As usual, the prospect
of booty was a much more potent incentive than the punishment of
infidels or the propagation of the Faith. Almeria, which, aided by its
geographical situation, had had the good fortune to escape the evils
of conquest and anarchy that afflicted other Andalusian cities, was
still the seat of affluence and power. Under the khalifate it had been
the most populous and flourishing emporium of Spain. Civil war, so
far from impairing its prosperity, had actually contributed to it. It
still retained the manufacturing establishments whose products were
exported to the limits of the civilized world. Many of the latter, such
as pottery and silk, were unequalled in quality and finish, and could
nowhere else be obtained. The proficiency of the artisans of Almeria
in their respective avocations was proverbial, and had been acquired
by experience and inheritance through many generations. The city
exhibited the political phenomenon of a Moslem republic; its affairs
were directed by a council presided over by a magistrate who, without
openly claiming them, exercised the prerogatives of an absolute ruler.
Its naval force could vie in numbers and strength with that of the
most formidable commercial state of the Mediterranean. The practice
of piracy had been so lucrative that the wealth and population of
Almeria had greatly increased, and the ancient walls no longer sufficed
to contain the innumerable houses of the citizens and the villas of
the aristocracy, which, environed by plantations of tropical trees,
extended for miles beyond the fortifications. The citadel was one of
the largest and strongest in Europe. While closely connected by blood
and sympathy with the nations of Africa, the inhabitants of the city
were independent of all factions, recognized the pretensions of no
dynasty, and acknowledged the authority of no government save that of
their own. A force not unworthy of an Oriental crusade assembled for
the conquest of this piratical stronghold. The armies of Castile, of
Leon, of Aragon, of Navarre, the Counts of Montpellier and Catalonia,
the combined navies of Genoa, Pisa, and Venice, and thousands
of soldiers of fortune, serving in bands under their respective
commanders, but without a standard and without a country, responded
to the crusading appeal. No estimate of the allied host has come down
to us, but its numbers were so overwhelming that not a single Moslem
prince dared to assist his countrymen; and the Almerians, closely
invested, without means of defence and destitute of all hope of relief,
after a two months’ blockade surrendered. By the terms of capitulation,
safety of their persons was assured; an unusual concession in those
times, and one which indicates the introduction of a spirit of good
faith and humanity into the hitherto barbarous usages of war. The
Italians, by superior dexterity or assurance, obtained the larger share
of the spoil; the city itself, the most valuable prize, was allotted
to the Count of Barcelona, the proximity of whose dominions afforded
the best security for its retention as a Christian possession; and the
King of Castile, who had been the soul of the undertaking, and whose
followers had been over-reached in the division of booty, was forced to
be content with the conscious satisfaction of success and the profuse
but empty congratulations of the Holy See. The enterprise achieved,
the allied army dispersed with the unceremonious haste characteristic
of enlistments under feudal institutions. Deficiency of experience and
absence of discipline; impatience of the delay and inaction implied
by a lengthy campaign; the want of cohesion exhibited by a force
consisting of different nationalities and divided by conflicting
interests; apprehension of the storms of winter in an unknown climate,
dissipated in a day a force capable of the greatest military exploits.

The thirty thousand Almohades who had occupied, almost without
bloodshed, much of the Andalusian territory, and were forced to
remain in inactivity behind the walls of the cities which had fallen
into their hands, viewed with surprise the vast preparations of the
Christians and the insignificant results of their campaign. The numbers
of the Africans, insufficient in themselves and distributed among a
score of garrisons, were unable to cope with the enemy, and the present
embarrassment of Abd-al-Mumen precluded the hope of pecuniary aid or
effective reinforcements. A new Mahdi had arisen among the sands of
Al-Maghreb. Of plebeian origin and menial employment,--for he earned
a livelihood washing garments in the environs of Salé,--without
learning or personal attractions, his rude eloquence soon collected
around him a numerous body of disciples. The remains of the Almoravide
faction, all those who were dissatisfied with the present government,
individuals allured by the charm of novelty, thousands of proselytes,
sincerely convinced of the mission of the new prophet, repaired to
the hostile camp. Before Abd-al-Mumen fully realized his peril his
armies had been beaten and scattered, his ablest lieutenants killed,
his dominions, acquired with so much difficulty, seized by his rival,
and his authority confined to the cities of Fez and Morocco, whose
populace, habituated to revolt and disorder, could not be trusted. He
was now enabled to appreciate the inconstant and treacherous character
of the nations over whom he had established a nominal empire. Fortune,
however, proved in the end propitious to the chief of the Almohades;
his rival was defeated in a pitched battle and killed, and his fickle
subjects returned to their allegiance with the same enthusiasm with
which they had so recently renounced it.

In the mean time, after the capture of Almeria, the Christians began
again to exert their power in every Moslem province of the Peninsula.
The Count of Barcelona, supported by the Italian fleets, invested and
took Tortosa, which commanded the mouth of the Ebro. Its submission
was followed by the conquest of Lerida, Fraga, and Mequinenza, and
the great river of Aragon, now open to the sea, marked for a brief
period the gradually contracting boundary of the Moorish possessions
of Eastern Spain. The rising monarchy of Portugal, for the first time
beginning to assert itself among nations, acquired renewed prestige
by the capture of Cintra and Lisbon. The movements of Ibn-Gamia,
whose valor and activity still sustained the sinking fortunes of the
Almoravide cause, stimulated the Almohades to exertion. Worsted in
several encounters, he retired to Cordova, but, unable to maintain
his ground, he placed his lieutenant Yahya in command and effected a
retreat by night after the Almohades had encamped before the city.
Yahya, by a prompt submission, averted the carnage which in these wars
inevitably followed a protracted defence, and the ancient metropolis
of the khalifate once more submitted to the rule of a foreign master.
In the Great Mosque, the scene of so many triumphs and humiliations,
which had witnessed the installation of a long succession of Moslem
princes, the public exhibition of the trophies of conquest, the
murder of magistrates, the tumults of revolution, Abd-al-Mumen was
proclaimed Emir of the Mussulmans of Spain. The fierce spirit of the
invaders seems to have been restrained by the dangers of the situation,
the uncertainty of support, and the activity of the Christians,
considerations which rendered leniency towards the vanquished not
only politic but necessary. Carmona was soon added to the Almohade
conquests and Ibn-Gamia fled to Granada, where he afterwards fell in
battle. His partisans then espoused in a body the cause of Alfonso of
Castile. With this open defection the condition of the Spanish Moslems
became more desperate. Divided among themselves, with half of their
best soldiers fighting under the banners of their hereditary foe,
apparently abandoned by the prince raised to imperial power in the
religious centre of the kingdom, without resources, without prospect
of assistance, nothing but the presence of the Almohades preserved
the relics of the khalifate from immediate absorption by the kingdoms
of Castile and Aragon. Finally, Abd-al-Mumen, having consolidated
his empire in Africa, and moved by the entreaties of his Andalusian
subjects, who sent a deputation of five hundred citizens to invoke
his aid, despatched an army under his son Abu-Said to the Peninsula.
The city of Almeria, whose situation, in a strategic point of view,
commanded the coast of Africa, was the object of the expedition. The
siege having been formed, an ineffectual attempt was made by Alfonso
for the relief of the garrison, after which it was abandoned to its
fate. The forces of Abd-al-Mumen not being able to blockade the port,
it was found impossible to reduce the place by famine, and the strength
of the fortifications precluded all hope of taking it by storm. The
patience and endurance of the garrison, however, were exhausted by
constant alarms and by the indefatigable perseverance of the enemy, and
the Moslems, after an exclusion of ten years, regained possession of
the most formidable stronghold of Andalusia.

This decisive success was supplemented by other and scarcely less
important achievements. The populous city of Niebla, a dependency of
Seville, was stormed by Abu-Zacaria, who had been one of the Almohade
commanders during the former invasion. Its stubborn resistance provoked
the commission of the greatest barbarities in the hour of triumph. No
male of mature years survived the carnage of the assault. In compliance
with the customs of Berber warfare, the children were destined for
the slave market, the women for the seraglio. Such was the unbridled
fury of the conqueror that in a single suburb of the ill-fated city
eight thousand victims of African savagery paid the last penalty of
defeat. The arms of the Almohades were now turned against Granada. That
capital, after a short and bloody resistance, was carried by the troops
of Abu-Said, and the horrors of Niebla were repeated upon the Christian
garrison, who atoned with their lives for the ill-advised alliance
of the last representatives of the Almoravides with the sovereign of
Castile. The capture of Granada marks the final descent from power of
that party whose tyranny and depredations had for almost a generation
disturbed the peace of the Peninsula.

The experience of Abd-al-Mumen with treacherous vassals and daring
impostors made him reluctant to leave his capital, constantly exposed
to revolution, for the sake of confirming his power over the Moslem
states of Spain. And, indeed, there seemed to be but little necessity
for his personal appearance in Andalusia. In addition to the native
auxiliaries there were now fifty thousand Almohade veterans in that
country. His generals had demonstrated their ability for command on
many fields of battle. The principal cities of the South--Cordova,
Seville, Carmona, Granada, Malaga, Almeria, Badajoz--were garrisoned
by his troops. His armies had as yet sustained no repulse; the
most fertile districts furnished them with abundant subsistence; a
considerable tribute was collected from the Jews and Mozarabes, who
were compelled to pay liberally for privileges and protection which
they did not enjoy; Alfonso VII., the most redoubtable enemy of the
Moslems, had recently died, and the other Christian princes, doubtful
of their strength, hesitated to confront the victorious Almohade
squadrons. Although determined not to imperil his crown by a prolonged
absence from his capital, Abd-al-Mumen paid a visit to Gibraltar, which
he strongly fortified, and where he received the homage of the various
officials of his recently acquired dominions.

Almost simultaneously with the disappearance of the Almoravides a
new champion of Hispano-Arab independence arose in the east of the
Peninsula. Mohammed-Ibn-Saad, Prince of Valencia, attempted, but
without success, to oppose the authority of the hated Africans.
Routed before Granada, he organized another army in the Alpujarras
and, reinforced by a body of Christians from Toledo, again tried
the fortunes of war under the walls of Cordova. The bravery of the
Andalusians availed little in the presence of the invincible veterans
of Abd-al-Mumen. They were cut to pieces, and their leader, Ibn-Saad,
escaping with difficulty, fled to Murcia.

The martial spirit of Abd-al-Mumen was not enfeebled either by
increasing physical infirmities or by the accumulated weight of years.
The unsettled state of affairs in Spain and the unsatisfactory results
accomplished by his generals, whose victories, however brilliant,
seemed to inflict but trifling injury on the enemy, convinced him of
the necessity for an aggressive and decisive campaign. The innumerable
tribes, provinces, and kingdoms of Africa united under his sceptre had
submitted without murmur or hesitation to the exercise of despotic
power. The wisdom of his administration, the severity with which rebels
and outlaws were punished, diffused a wholesome dread of his anger
throughout the vast Almohade monarchy, more extensive even than that
ruled by any of his predecessors and reaching from the Mediterranean
to the south of the Sahara, from the Atlantic to the valley of the
Nile. Supplies sufficient for the maintenance of an immense army were
collected at Tangier, Algeziras, Gibraltar. Then the proclamation of
the Holy War was issued. There responded to that welcome summons nearly
half a million men. But before they could be assembled and organized
for action, Abd-al-Mumen expired, bequeathing his throne and the
execution of his projects of ambition to his third and favorite son,
Abu-Yakub-Yusuf, a prince eminently worthy of the responsibilities
imposed upon him by paternal favor and the caprice of fortune.

The character of Abd-al-Mumen presents an epitome of the homely virtues
and ferocious vices of the Desert. In the attainment of his ends he
was seldom swayed by considerations of pity, honor, or benevolence.
He never shrank from indiscriminate butchery in the heat of battle.
He seldom hesitated to pardon a defeated and submissive foe. In the
dispensation of justice the culprit promptly underwent the extreme
penalty of violated law. The attention of the founder of a stupendous
empire was not entirely engrossed by schemes of war and conquest. He
established schools and colleges in the larger cities of his dominions,
fostered literature, encouraged art. The most talented and accomplished
teachers in the entire realm of Islam were attracted to his court,
where, honored with the friendship and enriched by the liberality
of their royal patron, their efforts were directed to the education
of youth. Three thousand of the latter, selected from the most
distinguished families, were assembled in a university at the capital,
where they not only profited by the instruction of learned professors,
but were daily exercised in the military evolutions essential to a
competent knowledge of the art of war--the manœuvring, the encampment,
and the discipline of armies. Under the care of such a monarch the city
of Morocco became a metropolis worthy of an empire which comprehended
an hundred distinct tribes and nations, and whose opposite boundaries
were separated by a four months’ journey. The royal residence and
its gardens enclosed a vast area beautified by every resource of art
and luxury. The inventive genius of skilful foreign artisans had
provided both palace and mosque with many appliances of wonderful
ingenuity,--doors which opened and closed apparently without human
agency; pulpits and tribunes which, acting automatically, moved to and
fro impelled by hidden mechanism; fountains whose jets, mysteriously
controlled by valves and springs, were the perpetual delight and wonder
of the people.

Under his administration hundreds of vessels were constructed; the
navy-yards were enlarged and increased in number, and powerful fleets
bearing the white standard of the Almohades maintained the dignity of
the Sultan of Africa and Spain in every quarter of the Mediterranean.

The long reign of Abd-al-Mumen, who governed Spain entirely through his
viceroys, was not less injurious to the interests of that country than
the domination of the Almoravides had been. The plague of civil war,
the menace of Christian conquest, the evils of revolution and anarchy,
the ferocity of the remorseless conqueror, with whom resistance was
an offence only to be expiated by death or slavery, were conditions
fatal to agricultural and commercial prosperity. Moorish Spain, once
the proud mistress of the Occident, the seat of learning and the arts,
now the sport of fortune and the prey of savage hordes nurtured amidst
the African deserts, was, with the passage of each decade, rapidly
descending in the scale of civilization. Her political influence and
the prestige of her name had disappeared. The wealth accumulated under
the beneficent rule of the Ommeyade dynasty had either been dissipated
in luxury or been borne away by barbarian invaders. The time was almost
at hand when a religious tyranny, more grievous in its burdens,
more cruel in the inexorable severity of its decrees, than the worst
examples of African despotism, was to be imposed on the descendants
of a people which had made the Western Khalifate the seat of the most
opulent, the most intellectual, the most powerful of nations.

Yusuf, the new Sultan of the Almohades, distrusting the loyalty of
his subjects, and apprehensive of a disputed succession, had no
sooner ascended the throne than he disbanded the great army collected
by his father for the subjection of the Peninsula. A well-balanced
and discriminating mind, an excellent education acquired under the
direction of the most learned doctors of the age, unusual proficiency
in the martial exercises practised with such assiduity by the
Mauritanian youth, considerable experience in the arts of policy and
in the conduct of campaigns, admirably fitted Yusuf for the cares of
government. The summary measures adopted by his father to maintain
public security, and his own well-established reputation for ability
and resolution, preserved his accession from the dangers of revolt.
A few insignificant demonstrations by the restless tribes of the
Atlas, which were speedily and mercilessly repressed, disturbed the
first few months of his reign. But no pretender rose to dispute his
claims to sovereignty; no prophet ventured to arouse the credulous and
fanatical swarms of the Desert; no concerted movement of discontented
chieftains threatened the permanence of a monarchy which had been
founded on revolution, and whose history had been marked by incessant
turmoil and sedition. Satisfied with the peaceful condition of his
African possessions, Yusuf, having sent to Spain twenty thousand of his
choicest troops, after a short delay followed them, and, assuming the
supreme command, established his residence at Seville. The discord
existing between the petty rulers of the Moslem states, whose enmity
was the more decided in proportion to their incapacity to indulge it,
operated in the most signal manner to the advantage of his cause.
Ibn-Saad, lord of Eastern Spain, whose kingdom included the cities of
Murcia, Valencia, Alicante, Xativa, Denia, Lorca, many flourishing
villages, and the most fertile portion of the Peninsula, was killed
in an expedition to Minorca, and his sons, unable to defend their
rich inheritance against both the Aragonese and the Almohades at
once, entered into negotiations with Yusuf for the exchange of their
territories for others less valuable, perhaps, but more secure, on the
shores of Northern Africa. The bargain was soon concluded. The Murcian
princes, eager to dispose of what they must otherwise inevitably lose,
embarked for their new dominions; the daughter of Ibn-Saad, a pledge
of the contract, became the wife of Yusuf, and the most valuable
district in Spain--when the productiveness of the soil, the wealth and
commercial advantages of the cities, and the density and industrious
character of the population are considered--passed, without the hazards
of a campaign or the loss of a single drop of blood, under the control
of the Sultan of the Almohades.

It was not, however, by the peaceable arts of diplomacy alone that
additions were made to the empire of Yusuf. In the west, Badajoz,
repeatedly captured and retaken by Christian and Moslem, was occupied
by his troops. At the head of a column of several thousand cavalry he
ravaged the valley of the Tagus as far as the suburbs of Toledo. The
border stronghold of Alcantara, long vaunted as impregnable, submitted
to his arms. Nor was it on account of his military exploits that the
name of Yusuf has been transmitted to the admiration of posterity.
Although he passed but a year in the most enchanting of Andalusian
cities, the evidences of his presence are to-day the principal, almost
the sole, attractions of that beautiful capital. The memory of his
genius and munificence have been perpetuated by the erection of quays,
palaces, towers, whose stupendous dimensions are now the wonder of the
modern engineer, and of mosques whose minarets were once incomparable
models of architectural symmetry and elegance. He repaired and enlarged
the Roman aqueduct, which still conducts from the springs of Alcalá the
purest water for the use of Seville. He spanned the Guadalquivir with
a bridge of boats, the counterpart and predecessor of the one which
until within a century united the opposite banks of that broad and
rapid stream. Its inundations, which had previously damaged property
and imperilled life, were partially controlled by the construction
of gigantic walls, which arrested the destructive torrent and turned
it again into its proper channel. These structures served as quays,
which, approached from the river-side by broad and easy stairways,
greatly facilitated the unloading and shipment of merchandise. Near
at hand were warehouses and magazines designed and erected by Yusuf,
and whose convenience and capacity were not surpassed by those of
any Mediterranean seaport. The defences of the city also claimed the
attention of this wise and indefatigable monarch, whose care and
vigilance no detail, however insignificant, seemed to escape. The
ancient walls were repaired and new ones constructed. Numerous towers
were added to command the river, among them the peculiar one now known
as the Tower of Gold, where was once kept the royal treasure. In the
heart of the city, and on the site of an ancient Christian church, a
great mosque was founded. The plan was a rectangle of four hundred and
fourteen by two hundred and seventy feet, and, although it could not in
justice be considered a rival of that noble edifice, it was in many
respects not far inferior to the peerless Djalma of Cordova. Its walls
were fringed with Persian battlements and painted with many colors.
Its arcades looked upon a court supplied with ever-murmuring fountains
and fragrant with the odor of orange blossoms. Its hundreds of marble
columns suggested the spoliation of many a Pagan temple. The ceiling
was formed by domes of wood and stucco, whose geometrical patterns
disclosed the correctness of taste and inexhaustible fertility of fancy
characteristic of the labors of the Arab artist and gilder. Its mosaic
pavements, its alabaster lattices, its curious arabesques presented
finished types of Moorish decorative splendor nowhere more conspicuous
than in his places of religious worship. At one corner of the building
rose a minaret of moderate height but elaborate ornamentation, and
diagonally opposite were laid the foundations of that famous tower
now known as the Giralda, which, completed during the reign of the
successor of Yusuf, still remains the finest specimen of Moslem
architecture of its class in the world.

It was not alone in the improvement of his Spanish capital that the
time and energy of the Almohade Sultan were expended. The military
and naval advantages of Gibraltar had been early appreciated by the
sovereigns of Africa. Its fortifications were now greatly extended and
strengthened by the provident foresight of Yusuf, who recognized in its
peculiar and impregnable situation the security of the Strait and the
key of the Peninsula.

Summoned to Africa by the ravages of a pestilence which decimated the
population of his kingdom, ignorant of medical knowledge, and abandoned
to fatalism and the ministrations of charlatans, Yusuf was compelled
to suspend the public works which had already produced such beneficial
results amidst the decaying commerce and diminishing resources of
Andalusia. The absence of the monarch became, as usual, the pretext
for anarchy. With his departure the quarrels of ambitious governors
of provinces and the harassing forays of the Christians were renewed.
For the long period of eight years this condition of incessant and
ruinous hostility continued. Then Yusuf resolved to accomplish the
design matured by his father, but whose execution had been prevented
by death. The Holy War was proclaimed. The forces of Africa were
assembled at Ceuta, and Spain was invaded by one of the largest armies
that had ever been marshalled on her soil. It is with interest that we
read of the orderly but undisciplined progress of this great array.
The tribes marched separately under their several sheiks. Each tribe
carried its distinctive standard--the ensign of that which constituted
the vanguard, the post of honor, was of blue and white silk spangled
with golden crescents. In the centre of the host rode the monarch,
surrounded by his negro guard, in whose equipment had been lavished
all the wealth of barbaric magnificence. Before him was carried, as a
talisman to insure success, the great Koran of Othman, which, having
escaped the perils of many revolutions, had been sent to Morocco by
the Almohades after their capture of Cordova. It was escorted by a
company of a hundred Berber nobles, mounted upon superb Arabian horses
whose velvet housings were embroidered with gold. This guard of honor
carried lances inlaid with ivory and silver, from which fluttered
pennons of many-colored silk. The casket in which was deposited the
most priceless relic of Islam was the same which had been adorned by
the emulous devotion and prodigality of many generations of Moslem
princes. Its material of ebony and sandal-wood was entirely concealed
by the multitude of jewels with which it was encrusted. The greater
part of these were emeralds and rubies, and were kept in place by
heavy settings of gold. They were arranged in arabesques, and in the
centre of each design sparkled a magnificent ruby cut in horseshoe
form. The casket was lined with green silk and cloth-of-gold, and a
covering of the same material sowed with pearls and other precious
stones concealed the treasure from the eyes of the multitude. Its
weight, which was far from inconsiderable, was supported by a stately
camel, whose burden was sheltered by a canopy on which were emblazoned
in golden letters appropriate legends from the Koran. In the rear of
the Sultan came the princes of the blood, the royal tributaries, and
the grand officials of the empire. Seventy thousand infantry and thirty
thousand cavalry composed the available force of the invaders, whose
ranks were further augmented by at least a hundred thousand slaves and
dependents. The army moved in four divisions, a day’s journey apart;
at each halting-place provisions and forage had been collected, and
the perfection of these arrangements, as well as the order maintained
on the march, attested the military skill and executive ability of the
Moslem general.

At Seville, designated as the rendezvous of the Spanish contingent,
Yusuf was joined by several thousand Berber troops, who had served
through many campaigns in the Peninsula. He then crossed the frontier
of Portugal and besieged Santarem. This city, situated about fifty
miles from Lisbon, was regarded as the bulwark of that capital. It was
on the point of being taken, when Yusuf was surprised by an unexpected
sally of the besiegers and mortally wounded. The Moslems, goaded to
madness by this misfortune, drove back the attacking party, entered
the gates with the fugitives, and ten thousand persons, massacred
amidst the horrors of the unequal conflict, expiated the temporary
and fatal success of a handful of their number. The death of the
Sultan, which, to avoid political complications and civil war, was
kept a secret, and did not become publicly known until his successor,
Abu-Yakub-Ibn-Yusuf,--the ablest of his many sons, and who assumed
the title of Al-Mansur-Billah,--a few weeks afterwards ascended the
throne. The traits of Yusuf were those of a liberal, a just, a devout,
a magnanimous ruler. He reduced taxation. He increased the imperial
revenues. His inexorable severity was the terror of malefactors. Before
his tribunals no suitor could complain of judicial oppression or
venality. Under his administration, as under that of his father, the
clergy were restricted to the performance of their religious duties,
and were not permitted to usurp the functions or to absorb the revenues
of the civil power. The cities were patrolled by a well-appointed and
vigilant police, and law-abiding citizens were assured of protection.
The banditti disappeared from the highways before the untiring pursuit
of the authorities, who crucified every brigand as soon as he was
captured. Never since the most flourishing days of the Ommeyade empire
had the people of Moorish Spain enjoyed such security.

According to Moslem custom, Yakub signalized his ascent to the throne
by acts of public charity and benevolence. He caused to be distributed
as alms the sum of a hundred thousand pieces of gold. He increased
the compensation of such officials as had honestly and faithfully
administered the public service. The taxes of the poor were remitted,
the tributes of the wealthy were reduced. The prisons were cleared
of all offenders except such as were accused of capital crimes. Upon
every magistrate was sedulously impressed the necessity for the strict
yet merciful enforcement of the laws. The army was placed under better
discipline, the pay of the soldiers was increased, and the sanitary
conditions of the barracks and the camp improved. In both Spain and
Africa new fortresses were erected at points peculiarly exposed to the
incursions of an enemy. Great sums were expended in the improvement
and the construction of highways, and the bridges were placed in
perfect repair, that no obstacle might exist to the rapid movement
of couriers or to easy military communication between the seat of
government and the frontiers of the empire. At regular intervals along
these thoroughfares, wells were dug and stations established for the
shelter of travellers and the convenience of troops. The obligations
of religion and the demands of knowledge were not neglected by this
devout and generous ruler. Mosques, richly adorned, were built in every
considerable town and city, and attached to them were institutions of
learning, where gratuitous instruction was furnished to the poor but
aspiring student. The sufferings of the afflicted were relieved by the
establishment of hospitals, presided over by physicians and surgeons
thoroughly versed in the medical science of the age. To such a degree
had the traditions and example of the Western Khalifate awakened the
noble emulation of the greatest prince who ever traced his origin to an
African ancestor.

The commencement of the reign of Yakub, like those of his predecessors,
was distracted by war and sedition. The remains of the Almoravide
faction, established in the Balearic Isles, instigated by delusive
representations the tribes of the Desert and the malcontents of the
Peninsula to insurrection. Their efforts were, however, incapable of
seriously endangering the power of Yakub. The leaders were arrested,
and the adoption of the most energetic measures soon restored the
public tranquillity. The repentant Berbers implored with success the
royal clemency; and two of the brothers of the Sultan, involved in
the common guilt, were sacrificed to the stern demands of justice and
fraternal indignation.

At the head of a splendidly appointed army Yakub then passed into
Spain. At his approach, all who had wavered in fidelity or had taken
up arms hastened to solicit forgiveness and renew their obligations of
fealty. The expedition, which was merely a reconnoissance, penetrated
without difficulty as far as Lisbon. The degree of its success may
be inferred from the fact that the booty is said to have exceeded in
value any heretofore secured by any foreign invader in the Peninsula
excepting Musa, and that the captives who followed in the train of the
conqueror amounted to the respectable number of thirteen thousand.

The crusading spirit, then at its height in Europe, soon offered
the King of Portugal an opportunity for retaliation. A large body
of Flemish and English knights and men-at-arms, on their way to the
Holy Land, disembarked at Lisbon to avoid, during the winter months,
the inconveniences of a protracted voyage and the proverbial dangers
of the Spanish coast. These adventurers accepted with avidity the
tempting proposals of the Portuguese king. The Moorish territory was
invaded by the crusaders, co-operating with a force of native troops;
and the cities of Evora, Beja, and Silves became the prey of the most
licentious soldiery in Europe. The latter place, which had surrendered
under articles of capitulation to Sancho, King of Portugal, was,
in violation of the laws of war and of every principle of justice,
abandoned to the tender mercies of the foreigners. Out of a population
of sixty thousand barely one-fifth escaped with life and liberty.
The majority of these were Jews, whose commercial relations with the
countries of Western Europe gave them influence with the Christian
commanders, while the presence of numbers of their countrymen in
the enemy’s camp contributed in no small degree to their security.
This immunity was not obtained, however, without the payment of an
exorbitant ransom; the city was pillaged amidst indescribable scenes
of cruelty, and many of the crusaders, renouncing the pious cause in
which they had embarked, remained in Silves as subjects of the King of
Portugal.

Fortune did not suffer them long to retain the fruits of their bad
faith and rapacity. Orders were issued from Morocco to retrieve the
disgrace sustained by the Moslems, and Mohammed, governor of Cordova,
having invaded the lost territory, stormed one after another the places
which had tempted the avarice of the adventurous foreigners; the
horrors of the previous capture were repeated and even surpassed, and
the Christians in their turn experienced the bitterness of defeat and
the calamities of servitude. Fourteen thousand male captives, chained
together, were paraded through the streets of Cordova, and fifteen
thousand women, distributed through the Moslem communities of Spain and
Africa, attested the fearful retribution exacted by the lieutenant of
the Sultan.

Three years after this event, Yakub, who in the midst of extensive
projects for the amelioration of his people had never relinquished
those plans of conquest which formed so important a feature in the
policy of every active Moslem prince, prepared for a grand campaign
against the Christians of Castile. The imperial forces, amounting to
three hundred thousand men, were transported across the Strait without
difficulty, and this mighty armament, for which the resources of the
governors of Andalusia were greatly taxed to provide subsistence, began
its march into the interior. Yakub, weary of unprofitable forays and
of expeditions which inflicted no permanent injury upon the enemy, had
resolved to attempt a most perilous and doubtful enterprise. The city
of Toledo, whose geographical position, impregnable fortifications, and
national prestige as the military centre of the Castilian monarchy
made it the most important strategic point in the entire Peninsula,
was the main object of his ambition. The political condition of
the Christian kingdoms, whose princes, again influenced by mutual
hatred, regarded with complacency the distress of their neighbors,
was peculiarly favorable to the designs of the Moslems. Portugal and
Leon were embroiled with the Holy See. Its interference with the
royal prerogatives and its unsolicited participation in the religious
disputes of those states were regarded with undisguised disapproval
by a people which had never explicitly recognized the jurisdiction
of the Supreme Pontiff. The jealousies of power and the hope of
profiting by the discord of their rivals kept aloof from each other
the kingdoms of Castile, Navarre, and Aragon. It was by the former of
these, unaided and alone, that the shock of the impending tempest was
to be sustained; while the other monarchies, removed from the seat of
war, might await in temporary security the issue of the inevitable
conflict. Alfonso VIII., who had aroused the ire and hastened the
invasion of Yakub by a challenge couched in all the extravagant terms
of Spanish rodomontade, now realized to the full the disastrous effects
of his untimely insolence. In vain, in his extremity, he appealed
to the piety, the patriotism, the martial spirit of the neighboring
Christian princes. The King of Aragon returned no answer. Alarmed by
the reports of the immense preparations of Yakub, the King of Navarre
had not hesitated to open secret negotiations with him, with a view
to preserving his possessions as a vassal of the Moslem. The sole
auxiliaries who responded to the entreaties of Alfonso were a handful
of French knights, with their retainers, from the districts of Provence
and Gascony. With these, with the brethren of the military orders, and
with his own forces, whose united number has not been mentioned in the
chronicles, but which was greatly inferior to that of the Africans,
Alfonso calmly awaited the approach of the enemy below the castle of
Alarcos, not far from Calatrava.

At dawn, on one of the most memorable days in the annals of the
Reconquest, the hostile armies prepared for battle. The arrangement
of the Moslems indicated a degree of military ability scarcely to be
expected from the rude tacticians of the age. The Almohades formed the
left wing, the right was held by the Andalusians, in the centre were
placed the picked troops of the empire, veterans of many campaigns.
Behind the first line were ranged the African volunteers, armed
principally with missile weapons, whose solid mass was intended to aid
the foremost ranks in repelling the charge of the Christian cavalry.
The manœuvres were immediately directed by the generals of the Sultan;
for Yakub, at the head of his guards and a reserve of several thousand
of his bravest troops, remained in ambush within easy access of the
field, equally ready at a moment’s notice to retrieve disaster or to
burst unexpectedly and with crushing force upon the disordered ranks of
a terrified and flying enemy. The position of the Christians had been
most advantageously chosen. The gently ascending slope of a mountain,
with a steep acclivity at the rear, its sides defended by the deeply
worn channels of mountain torrents, was occupied by their camp. With
characteristic disregard of prudence the Castilians began the fray.
Eight thousand knights in complete armor charged with terrific force
the centre of the Moslem line of battle. Twice they recoiled before the
solid mass of the enemy, but the third effort was successful; his line
was pierced, his ranks were thrown into confusion, and the Christians,
elated by a temporary advantage which they thoughtlessly magnified into
victory, indulged to the utmost their savage instincts, infuriated as
they were by the unexpected resistance they had encountered. But the
field was not yet won. As they rushed forward in their bloody course,
the impetuous cavaliers were insensibly surrounded by the active
Mauritanian cavalry and the archers, who had been drawn up on the
flanks of the African army; and, their retreat cut off, they were at
once overwhelmed by numbers. In the mean time, the skill and coolness
of the Moslem general, Al-Senani, who commanded the broken line, had
enabled him to consolidate its wings, not as yet engaged, and, rallying
the stragglers, he made a determined attack upon the enemy’s camp.
Thus, in different parts of the field two battles were in progress, in
which a portion of each army constituted the assailants. Of the knights
who had so boldly hurled themselves against the Moslem host, but few
escaped the spears and arrows of the Almohades. Despite the strength of
the Christian position, it was taken by Al-Senani and his Andalusians,
and the picked Castilian troops, unable to withstand the shock of the
Moslem charge, were utterly routed. The heavy armor of the chivalry
of Alfonso impeded their movements and delayed their flight; their
senses were bewildered by the din and tumult of battle, and the fierce
Mauritanian horsemen, strangers to pity in the hour of triumph, were
deaf to the supplications of a defeated and helpless foe. The manifest
exaggerations of the ancient chronicles render it impossible to form
even an approximately correct estimate of the Christian loss. It must,
however, have been enormous; but the proximity of the mountains,
inaccessible to the Moorish cavalry, undoubtedly preserved numbers
who would otherwise have perished. Twenty thousand prisoners taken in
Alarcos, which fortress was stormed immediately after the battle, were
liberated without exchange or ransom, an act of unusual generosity,
which, while acquiring for Yakub the unfavorable criticism of his
subjects, was considered an evidence of weakness by the ungrateful
recipients of his favor, incapable of understanding such indulgence in
wars ordinarily waged with indescribable barbarity.

The fruits of this great victory were limited to the possession of a
few thousand captives and the plunder of the Castilian camp. At no
time had the Christian territory been more vulnerable to the attack
of an invader than after the battle of Alarcos. The power of Castile
was temporarily destroyed. Navarre, intimidated by the approach of
the Moslems, was now ready for the oath of fealty and the humiliating
rendition of tribute. Leon was also suspected of entertaining secret
negotiations with Yakub, whose influence had not improbably contributed
to the inimical relations generally existing between the Christian
states of Northern Spain. Aragon, deprived of its sovereign and arrayed
against its neighbors, was a prey to political intrigue as well as
exposed to the danger of foreign conquest. Portugal alone, protected in
a measure by her remoteness from the seat of war, resolutely upheld by
her uncompromising attitude the sinking fortunes of the Christian arms.

Many causes conspired to render the campaigns of the Moslems
indecisive. Their armies, composed of many nations and commanded
by numerous generals, were incapable of thorough organization and
discipline. The powers of high officials claiming equal authority,
undefined by law and unconfirmed by precedent, were subject to
constant and vexatious interference. Prolonged operations were viewed
with disfavor by soldiers accustomed to the independent movements
and rapidly shifting scenes of partisan warfare. A victory was, to
the morale of such a force, almost as detrimental as a defeat. The
ordinarily powerful incentives to conquest--the propagation of the
Faith, the hope of martial renown, the prospect of territorial
acquisition--were forgotten in the desire to enjoy without delay
the fruits of activity and courage. Wholesale desertions were the
inevitable consequences of success. Military expeditions in the
Peninsula were not, since it had become a dependency of Africa, carried
on with the systematic regularity which aimed at permanent occupancy.
Towns were usually pillaged and burnt. The country was desolated, the
population enslaved. But it was rare that a garrison was placed in
a captured city, and new fortresses were no longer erected to guard
the security of the frontier. The frontier, indeed, had become the
uncertain boundary of a debatable land, a region which the constant
incursions of enemies had transformed into a waste, whose limits,
ever shifting, were yet steadily encroaching on the Moslem domain.
The fortunes of a mere province, however valuable and extensive it
might be, could excite but a languid and transitory interest amidst
the plots and revolutions of a distant and turbulent capital. After a
foray into Castile directed by Christian refugees and renegades with
real or fictitious grievances to avenge, the Moslems retired from
the campaign, and the opportunity afforded by the battle of Alarcos
was irretrievably lost. The next spring was passed in unprofitable
excursions into Castile and Estremadura. Calatrava and Guadalajara
were taken, and Salamanca was stormed and burnt to the ground after
having submitted to the utmost excesses of a barbarian enemy. The
absence of organized resistance, the general consternation which
prevailed in every Christian community, the craven behavior of great
princes, who solicited with abject humility the protection of the
Almohade Sultan; the extraordinary facility with which one fortress
after another was occupied by the Moslems, indicate the universal
demoralization consequent upon the rout of Alarcos. A campaign
conducted with energy and determination must have resulted in the
complete overthrow of the Christian monarchies of the North. But
Yakub, destitute of the most eminent qualifications of a commander,
wasted his time and consumed the strength of his soldiers in predatory
enterprises which yielded neither military distinction nor political
advantage, while his enemies expected in constant terror the appearance
of the squadrons which had annihilated the knights of the monastic
orders, the pride of Christian Spain, and had trampled under foot the
Castilian chivalry, already illustrious for endurance and prowess
among the famous warriors of Europe. An attempt, indeed, was made
upon Toledo, the original object of the invasion, behind whose walls
the fugitives of Alarcos had taken refuge; but the old Visigothic
capital, which had issued victorious from a hundred sieges, was not
to be hastily reduced by an enemy ignorant as yet of the destructive
force of gunpowder. A few days demonstrated the futility of an
attack where the deficiencies of military engineering could not be
compensated by superiority in numbers, and the King of Castile was
fortunate enough to negotiate a truce with the Sultan, now alarmed by
reports of sedition in his own dominions. The return of the latter
preceded only a short time his sudden and unexpected death. He was
a prince who, of all the descendants of African dynasties, was most
worthy of the honors of imperial greatness, and it was not without
propriety that he assumed the title of Al-Mansur, The Victorious.
Under his reign his countrymen probably attained to the highest degree
of civilization and intellectual development of which their race is
capable. Experience had repeatedly proven that the innate savagery
of the Berber was incorrigible. The benefits of education, habitual
association with the learned and the polite, familiarity with the
finest literary productions of preceding ages, the daily presence of
architectural monuments of unrivalled splendor, were unable to efface
the barbarous instincts inherited through unnumbered generations of
roving banditti. Like the Arab, a freebooter by birth and inclination,
the Berber abandoned with reluctance and resumed with delight the
unsettled and precarious existence of his forefathers. No political
affinity existed between the various divisions of the African race.
Of such components an enduring empire could not be constructed. When
temporarily united, they were held together solely by the unnatural
and artificial influences of force and fear; the principles of mutual
co-operation, of national pride, of devoted loyalty, which constitute
at once the security and the glory of a nation, were absent. The first
three princes of the Almohade line were pre-eminently conspicuous
for their talents, their firmness, their political sagacity. Their
reigns, while characterized by more or less severity, the consequence
of peculiar political conditions, were neither oppressive nor unjust.
No restrictions were laid on commerce. The burdens of taxation were
lightened and illegal impositions abolished. Many internal improvements
were planned and perfected. The administration of justice was purified
and corrupt magistrates punished. The religious sentiment, dominant
in the minds of an ignorant people, was gratified by the erection of
sumptuous temples. The prosecution of extensive military operations,
the enslavement of entire tribes, the sack of opulent cities, the
achievement of sweeping victories, the extermination of armies, were
calculated to secure the attachment and confirm the allegiance of a
people passionately devoted to the stirring excitements of war. But so
capricious and disloyal was the African, that neither the enjoyment of
present favor nor the expectation of future benefit could insure his
fidelity. He was wholly careless of the advantages of civilization.
His superstition made him the facile dupe of every impostor. The
Almohade sovereigns lived in constant apprehension of dethronement. If
they left Africa for Spain, the desert tribes were certain to rebel.
As soon as they had recrossed the Strait, Andalusia rose in arms. The
death of an ignorant charlatan, who in a short time had restricted
the empire of Abd-al-Mumen to two cities, alone saved that monarch
and his dynasty from destruction. The annals of his son and grandson
are a bloody chronicle of insurrections, massacres, executions. The
Berber element, while abhorred by the Arabs, had yet so permeated the
society of the Peninsula that every department of government, every
rank and profession of men, had been infected with its poison. Under
such conditions political regeneration was impossible. No reformer, no
conqueror, could avert the final catastrophe,--a catastrophe inevitable
in the decadence of nations,--subjection to a foreign enemy actuated
by religious fanaticism, military ambition, and inflexibility of
purpose. The victory of Alarcos was the closing triumph of Islam in the
Peninsula, and with the reign of Yakub disappeared the last opportunity
for the restoration of Moslem power.

It is not, however, by his conquests, the extent of his dominions, or
the splendor of his court that Yakub-al-Mansur is best known to us. The
Giralda, or minaret, which towered over the mosque of Seville, and now,
for the most part intact, is the principal ornament of its cathedral,
is the greatest monument to his fame. The stately temple to which it
was attached, founded by Yusuf, and almost a quarter of a century in
building, was at last finished by his son. The spoils of many a foray,
the wealth of many a conquered city, the plunder of many a Christian
sanctuary, were devoted to its construction. Gold and silver obtained
from the sacramental vessels of violated altars glittered upon its
walls. Its masonry had been laid by the painful labor of hundreds of
captives. Its foundations stand upon a base composed of busts, statues,
bas-reliefs, and carvings taken from the Roman structures abounding
in the vicinity, and many of which represented the finest efforts of
classic taste and imperial magnificence. To strict observers of Moslem
law,--and none adhered more closely to the letter of its provisions
than the Almohades,--every representation of the human form was
classed as idolatrous, and the effigies of the emperors, statesmen,
and orators of antiquity were buried far beneath the walls of the
Giralda, that the eyes of the Faithful might no longer be offended by
what were ignorantly presumed to be objects of Pagan adoration; and
that the spiritual as well as the material supremacy of Islam might be
symbolized by the erection over these infidel memorials of the most
imposing and beautiful edifice of its kind that has ever been devised
by the genius of man.

Its base is a square of fifty feet; its original height was three
hundred. For eighty-seven feet from the foundation the walls are of
stone blocks fitted with the greatest nicety, and once polished to
the smoothness of glass. The superstructure is of brick, and almost
covered with graceful arabesque patterns in terra-cotta. Each side is
divided into six panels with the designs in bas-relief, the panels
resting upon ogival arches sustained by marble columns sunk into the
masonry. In the central panels are a series of ajimezes, or Moorish
windows, whose compartments are separated by miniature columns of
alabaster. A charming variety and elegance exist in their arrangement
and decoration; the openings are symmetrical but unequally disposed,
and the terra-cotta patterns, while they exhibit a general similarity,
are unlike in detail, no two faces of the tower exactly resembling
each other. The minaret as originally designed was crowned with
battlements, and was surmounted by another tower eight cubits in
height, of similar plan but of much more elaborate ornamentation.
Above the latter structure rose a bar sustaining four bronze balls
of different sizes, placed one above the other. The general color of
the building was a brilliant red, due to the bricks of which it was
principally composed. Within this bright setting the sunken arabesques
glowed with all the splendor of the richest damask. The interstitial
portions of the designs were painted with scarlet, azure, green, and
purple, the parts in relief were gilded. The maze of gold and color was
at once tempered and defined by the duller framing and by the white,
translucent, alabaster columns of the central panels. Around the summit
of the principal tower was a mosaic of intricate pattern and many
colors. The beauty of the gorgeous tints that under the sunlight of
Southern Spain exhibited the refulgence of the rainbow was heightened
by the use of tiles covered with gold leaf, whose enamelled covering
imparted a brilliancy not even exceeded by the burnished metal itself.
Upon the superstructure had been lavished all the exquisite taste and
skill of the Moorish and the Byzantine artisan. Its sides presented a
complicated and elegant mosaic of white, blue, and gold. Its parapet
blazed with that precious metal, and above ascended, in regular
gradation, the row of immense gilded globes, visible to the approaching
or to the departing caravan for the space of more than a day’s journey.
The largest of these was nearly twenty feet in diameter; the surfaces
of all were deeply grooved, the better to reflect the light; and the
iron bar which sustained them, and which was also plated with gold,
weighed nearly a thousand pounds.

The interior of the famous minaret presents some extraordinary, not
to say unique, architectural features. Its walls are nine feet in
thickness at the base, and, instead of decreasing in dimensions, become
still more solid as they rise, until the capacity of the structure near
the summit is but little more than half what it is at the bottom. The
ascent is made by thirty-five ramps, or inclined planes, resting upon
vaults and arches, and supported by a shaft of masonry built in the
centre of the tower.

It was to the architects of Constantinople that the Moors were
indebted for this excellent substitute for the stairway, by which
the loftiest buildings could be ascended with comparatively slight
fatigue. Byzantine influence, which has left such an impress upon the
architecture of Venice, has provided its towers with this ingenious
device, of which the Campanile offers a familiar example. Instances
of its employment also exist in many cities of Africa, some of whose
mosques, constructed by the Almohades, present, upon a greatly
reduced scale, minarets in form and decoration almost counterparts
of the Giralda as it was in the day of its original splendor. It is
not uninteresting to note that the architect who superintended the
completion of the Giralda was Abu-Layth, a Sicilian, whose country,
long a province of Constantinople, had never, even under Moslem
domination, completely abandoned the traditions or renounced the
influence of the Christian capital of the East.

Mohammed-Ibn-Yakub, whose hereditary title had been confirmed by
the exercise of regal authority during the lifetime of his father,
succeeded to the perilous honors of the Almohade throne. A prince of
amiable character but mediocre talents, without ambition and destitute
of self-reliance, his accession augured ill for the maintenance of
order among a score of jealous nations, which all the genius of great
statesmen and warriors had hardly sufficed to restrain within the
bounds of loyalty and discipline. The death of Yakub was the signal
for revolt to the turbulent spirits who inhabited the mountains of
Fez, and their defection was immediately followed by a formidable
insurrection in the Balearic Isles. There, where Almoravide influence
was nourished by descendants of that family,--who, expelled from
the main-land, had for a time enjoyed in that sequestered region a
nominal independence,--the standard of rebellion was raised by Yahya,
an active partisan, who traced his descent from the last Almoravide
emperor, Yusuf-Ibn-Tashfin. The sedition of the mountain tribes
was easily suppressed, but that of the Balearic Isles was far more
serious, and demanded the adoption of the most stringent measures. The
name of the Almoravides had by no means lost its potency in Africa.
Among the inhabitants of the coast and the denizens of the Sahara,
the exploits of the dynasty that had first consolidated the vagrant
tribes of that continent into the semblance of a nation, had brought
to their knowledge the benefits of letters and the arts, and had, by
its conquests, raised them to the height of military glory, were still
remembered. The sympathies of the people of the Balearic Isles were
almost unanimously with the representatives of their ancient masters.
Before such an event could be anticipated, an army landed on the coast
of Africa. The Berbers, allured by novelty and by the prospect of
license, began to show signs of discontent. The political agitation
enveloped the northern portion of the Desert, and the following of the
intrepid Yahya was increased by the enrolment of many warlike tribes.
One element, however, and a most important one, was lacking to insure
success. The enterprise of the Almoravides was a purely political
one. In every revolution which had previously aroused the enthusiasm
and enlisted the support of the Africans, religion was the alleged
incentive and the most prominent feature. A certain degree of mystery,
a plausible exhibition of imposture, were indispensable to the
excitement and the control of the credulous and fanatical wanderers of
the Sahara. No movement could prosper in that benighted region unless
presided over by the sombre genius of superstition.

The first operations of Yahya were highly successful. Several
fortresses along the coast opened their gates to the invader. The
city of Almahadia was carried by storm. Kairoan, once the seat of the
Fatimite khalifs, and still the centre of an extensive trade between
the Desert and the Mediterranean, was threatened. The discernment of
Mohammed convinced him that the occupation of this ancient capital
would impart a dangerous impetus to the rebel cause, a contingency
which must, at all hazards, be prevented. The young prince acted
with extraordinary decision. The forces of Yahya were beaten. Some
fortresses were retaken, others voluntarily submitted. The insurgent
leader, hotly pursued by the enemy, was unable to re-embark, and was
driven to implore the hospitality of his Berber allies in the heart
of the Desert. A great force besieged Almahadia, which was bravely
defended by the Almoravide governor, Al-Hadshi. But the courage and
determination of the garrison could not prevail against the science
of the Sicilian and Spanish engineers who served in the army of the
Sultan. The walls were undermined. The towers were crushed by immense
projectiles of iron and stone hurled against them from engines of
novel construction and prodigious size. To avert the calamities of
an assault, the city was surrendered. With a generosity without
precedent in the annals of mediæval warfare, a general amnesty was
proclaimed. The garrison was persuaded to enlist under the banners of
the conqueror, and Mohammed, charmed with the gallantry of Al-Hadshi,
received him into his confidence and conferred upon him an important
command in his army.

The Balearic Isles, captured in 1115 by Raymond Berenger III., Count
of Barcelona, and afterwards occupied by the surviving leaders
of the Almoravide party, now for the first time in their history
experienced the effects of Berber invasion. Majorca was devastated by
the Mauritanian cavalry, its cities were burnt, and its population
enslaved. Minorca and Ivica, profiting by this example, hastened
to solicit the clemency of their sovereign, and the heads of the
Almoravide chieftains, carefully embalmed with camphor and enclosed in
an elegant casket, were sent to Morocco as conclusive evidence that
nothing more was to be feared from a crushed and disorganized faction.

The propitious beginning of a reign fated to end in ruin and disgrace
encouraged the youthful Sultan to undertake enterprises of far greater
importance. The truce unwisely conceded by Yakub to the entreaties of
the King of Castile had not yet expired. But the deliberate violation
of a treaty contracted with an infidel was considered an offence
scarcely worthy of absolution by the Christian casuists of that
age. Present expediency alone regulated the observation of public
engagements. The prince, who, to his own disadvantage, honorably
fulfilled the terms of a contract with a Moslem, would have been
rewarded with the derision of his subjects and the anathemas of the
clergy. Long anterior to the time of Mendoza and Ximenes, who made
the broadest application of that infamous principle, its adoption had
been approved by both the civil and ecclesiastical powers of Christian
Spain, and faith was kept with an unbeliever or a heretic only so long
as it suited the convenience of the other contracting party.

The death of Yakub had in a measure revived the spirits of the
disheartened Christians. Alfonso had succeeded with much difficulty in
collecting the scattered fragments of his defeated army. The military
orders, which had left their bravest members on the field of Alarcos,
began to fill the vacancies in their decimated ranks. In the larger
cities the impatient youth again longed for the excitements and the
plunder of the foray. Importuned by the solicitations of his subjects,
and fortified by the opinions and assurances of the clergy, Alfonso
violated the truce and descended unexpectedly upon the plains of Baeza
and Jaen. His success encouraged the organization of other expeditions,
and the bloody scenes of former years were re-enacted, until no portion
of Andalusia was secure from the ravages of the enterprising Christian
partisan. The subjection of the Almoravide rebels had inspired Mohammed
with a thirst for conquest, and with a desire to punish the perfidy and
the boldness of an adversary who, but a few years before, had in abject
and humiliating terms sued for peace. The proclamation of the Holy
War was issued. The Berber chieftains and their followers responded
with enthusiasm. With all the naval facilities of the empire at their
command, nearly two months were required by the immense body of
troops--more than three hundred thousand in number--for transportation
across the Strait; and, assembled at Seville, their tents and bivouacs
dotted the landscape for leagues around that city.

It was with the greatest consternation that tidings of the impending
invasion were received by the Christians. From the presence of the
African had dated not only the political misfortunes of the Peninsula,
but the most serious disasters ever experienced by the Spanish arms.
Thrice already in its history the landing of a Mussulman host had been
the precursor of a national catastrophe. Sixteen years had passed since
the fatal day of Alarcos, but the memory of that appalling defeat was
still fresh in the memory of almost every family in Castile; and so
destructive and wide-spread had been its effects that the resources
of that kingdom, which had sustained the brunt of the attack, had
never been completely restored. In the present emergency the Holy See
was appealed to; the war against the Moslems was invested with the
character and privileges of a crusade, and the anathemas of the Church
were denounced against all who should impede the movements or assist
the enemies of the King of Castile, now the champion of Christendom.
Emissaries furnished with the letters of the Supreme Pontiff went forth
from the Vatican to rouse the flagging religious spirit of Europe.
While the entire country north of the Tagus was in a state of terror,
and few preparations had been made for resistance, the army of the
Sultan, organized in five grand divisions, broke camp at Seville.
Remembering the issue of similar undertakings, the Christian population
were stricken with the apathy of despair. Everything was favorable to
the plans of Mohammed, and had he improved his opportunity the Moslem
domination might have been re-established throughout the Peninsula.
In the path of the invading force rose the castle of Salvatierra, a
fortress of such insignificance that even its ruins cannot now be
identified; but the conceit of the Sultan was so great that he was
unwilling to leave behind him a single Christian stronghold, and the
siege of an obscure frontier outpost, on whose endurance, however, now
depended the destinies of Spain, was formed. In the indulgence of this
foolish whim eight precious months passed away, while the severities
of the season and the pangs of famine fast depleted the ranks of the
Moorish army. The capture of Salvatierra was finally accomplished, at
the greatest cost probably ever incurred in the conquest of a place
of so little importance, and the Moslems retired to their quarters
in Andalusia. Encouraged by this unexpected check of the enemy, the
Christians, while realizing that the danger was only postponed, began
to exhibit unwonted activity. Amidst the snows of winter, the warriors
of Spain, about to make an expiring and desperate effort for the
defence of their homes and the salvation of their country; crusading
fanatics, animated by the fury of religious zeal, and representing
almost every nationality of Europe; ferocious soldiers of fortune,
whose swords still dripped with the blood of the Albigensian heretics;
eminent prelates, who discharged with equal dexterity the duties of
the confessional and the office of command, assembled at Toledo, once
the civil and ecclesiastical centre of the Visigothic power, now the
capital of a growing monarchy predestined for many coming centuries to
abject subserviency to the See of Rome.

The influence of the Papacy, no less than the imminent peril of the
state, had successfully appealed to the religious instincts and
national honor of every Christian potentate in the Peninsula. Many
of these came in person, followed by the nobles and ecclesiastical
dignitaries of their dominions. In this strange array, which could so
easily reconcile the din of battle with the peaceful services of the
altar and the pilgrimage, and which substituted without hesitation
for the monotonous intonations of the mass the martial notes of the
trumpet, were numbered the principal officials of the Church, headed
by the celebrated Roderick, Primate of the Kingdoms of Spain. The
grand-masters of all the military orders, including those of the
Hospitallers and the Templars, who with a considerable following had
come from distant countries to share in the honor and the glory of
a new crusade, formed no unimportant accession to the ranks of the
Christian army. Every organization in the land--civil, political,
military, and religious--had despatched its representatives to
the appointed rendezvous, full of patriotic confidence, yet with a
thorough realization of the fatal consequences to their liberties and
their faith which must inevitably result from another great Moslem
victory obtained over a people which had already well-nigh lost its
recuperative power. A remarkable concourse was that whose various
dialects and often discordant accents were heard in the streets, and
whose daily increasing numbers, exceeding the capacity of the old
Visigothic capital to contain, were distributed through the pastures
and gardens of its environs. An abundance of provisions supplied by the
timely foresight of Alfonso kept the motley host content, but want of
occupation soon developed the prevalent vices of the camp. Quarrels,
provoked by the claims of different nationalities to superiority, were
not unusual, and the narrow thoroughfares of the ordinarily sedate and
tranquil city became nightly the scene of brawls and disorder. Among
the crusaders were many who had served in Palestine and were accustomed
to unrestrained indulgence in every variety of crime. To these
adventurers, whose religious fervor was largely stimulated by avarice,
the wealth of the numerous and thriving Hebrew population of Toledo
was a prize too valuable to be overlooked. The prejudices of the age
were favorable to persecution, and the Jew, especially if prosperous,
was to the ignorant zealot the worst of infidels. A plan was formed
for the massacre of the entire Jewish colony; and it required all the
influence of the clergy and all the authority of Alfonso to prevent
the destruction of a large portion of his most industrious and useful
subjects in the very heart of his capital.

Finally, in June, 1212, the crusading army prepared for the active
operations of a campaign. In its order of arrangement, the advance
guard was composed of the foreigners, the centre was allotted to the
Aragonese, and the rear was closed by the soldiers of the remaining
states and kingdoms, who had most at stake and on whose efforts the
issue of a battle must principally depend.

The crusaders had advanced but a few days’ march beyond Toledo, when
signs of insubordination began to appear among the French and Italians.
There is probably not in all Europe a region so inhospitable and so
desolate during any season as the plateaus of Central Spain. No tree
rises to relieve the dull monotony of the landscape. In winter the
plain is swept by icy blasts from the sierras. In summer the exhausted
traveller is prostrated by the fierce rays of an almost tropical sun.
That country even now, for scores of leagues in every direction,
presents the aspect of a desert; and in the thirteenth century, marking
the boundary between two nations involved in continuous hostility, was
yet more dreary and uninhabited than it is to-day. To the old crusader
it recalled only too forcibly the hardships and the perils of the Holy
Land, privations long since gladly exchanged for a life of luxury and
license in the service of generous and indulgent European princes. The
prelate sighed for the cloister, reluctantly abandoned for the camp
at the command of the Holy Father, and longed to return to the scenes
of wassail,--to the gay hunting parties in the forest; to the festive
board, with its convivial and unclerical guests, its appetizing dishes,
and sparkling wines; to the embraces of those beautiful companions
who, chosen for their rare fascinations, whiled away, behind the walls
of palace and monastery, the leisure of the epicurean bishop with
Oriental dances and with the lively notes of lute and castanet. To men
who had been induced to take up the cross by glowing descriptions of
the Moorish cities of Andalusia, the experiences of a march through
La Mancha were a grievous disappointment. So universal and serious
was the discouragement among the foreigners, that the indignant
remonstrances of the King and the prelates were scarcely sufficient to
prevent their desertion in a body. At length, after a few insignificant
frontier castles had been stormed and little booty obtained, the
Italians and French, instigated by the ecclesiastics, abandoned their
allies and marched homeward. Their freebooting instincts were disclosed
by an ineffectual attempt to surprise Toledo, whose wealth they had
never ceased to covet; but the inhabitants refused them admission
to the city, and they were compelled to return to their homes empty
handed, covered with infamy and objects of derision and contempt to the
devout of every Christian nation of Europe.

The passes of the Sierra Morena had been already occupied by the Moors
when the Christian army approached that range of mountains which forms
the northern boundary of the province of Andalusia. A shepherd, whom
superstition has exalted into a saint, and whose familiarity with the
depths of the Sierra is still represented as miraculous, was found,
who guided the army through secret paths by the outposts of the enemy.
On the lofty plains of Tolosa the two armies met to decide the fate
of the Peninsula. The Moslems had slightly the advantage of situation
and decidedly the superiority in numbers. In the centre of the Moorish
camp, on a gentle elevation, was pitched the scarlet, silken tent of
the Sultan, which, with its gold embroidery and fluttering pennons, was
the most conspicuous object in the field. This position was protected
by the baggage-wagons, which, united by a ponderous iron chain,
encircled its base. In front of the hill, and defended by a ditch, was
drawn up the Moslem infantry, whose want of steadiness and defective
discipline the ingenuity of their officers had attempted to correct
by the dangerous expedient of fastening the ranks together with
ropes. The mailed soldiers were placed in the centre, and the swift
and irregular Mauritanians on the flanks of the foremost line. A guard
of black slaves covered the summit of the hill where sat the monarch,
clad in a black and threadbare robe, revered as the sacred garment worn
by the founder of his sect, with the Moslem symbols of conquest, the
Koran and the scimetar, beside him. The Moorish order of battle did
not differ greatly from that of Alarcos, and the experience of that
day no doubt determined the adoption of an arrangement which had once
been crowned with such brilliant success. Apparently the circumstances
were more propitious to the invaders than those of the former contest.
Their numbers were greater than those of the army of Yakub, the forces
of the enemy probably nearly the same as before. Their position was
much stronger and defended with more military skill. The sovereign
was present to encourage the efforts and animate the zeal of his
innumerable soldiery. The memory of two great victories--one so recent
as to be still fresh in the minds of many in both armies, and each of
which had imparted such glory to the Moslem cause--incited the soldiers
of Mohammed to emulate the heroic exploits of Zallaca and Alarcos.

On the other hand, it was with feelings of sullen desperation that
the Christians armed themselves at midnight for the decisive conflict
of the morrow. They were not oblivious of the national and religious
interests dependent on their constancy and their valor. Their allies,
on whose support they had reckoned, had perfidiously deserted them.
Their resources were exhausted. Unjustly, as the event demonstrated,
yet not without foundation, suspicions of the fidelity of some in their
ranks whose dispositions had once been hostile, and who had privately
negotiated with the enemy, were entertained. The disastrous results
of former contests, the present disadvantages of inferior numbers
and position, even the most fervent exhortations of ecclesiastical
zeal, were inadequate to remove or counteract. By the weird light of
fires and torches the sacrament was administered to the Christian
warriors, admonished by the activity of their enemies, whose sounds
of preparation could be faintly heard from their distant camp. The
officers received their final orders, and the troops were disposed in
the array of battle. The right wing was commanded by Sancho, King of
Navarre; the centre by Alfonso; the left wing by Pedro, King of Aragon.

The attack was begun by the Castilians, who with headstrong impetuosity
rushed forward to storm the enemy’s intrenchments. They were received,
however, with a courage worthy of their own, and their formation was
shaken by the solidity of the Moslem ranks. Both armies soon became
engaged; the Spanish mountaineers, inexperienced in warfare and
sickened by the frightful carnage, took to flight; and the nobility
were left, with momentarily diminishing numbers, to contend with the
myriads of barbarians who threatened to overwhelm them. It was then
that Alfonso, with his guards, plunging into the serried masses of the
enemy, retrieved the failing fortunes of the day. The supplications
and the threats of divine vengeance uttered by the ecclesiastics, who,
attired in their sacred vestments and holding aloft the crucifix,
intercepted the retreat of the mountaineers, caused them to rejoin
their devoted comrades, whose valor awakened their admiration while
it magnified their cowardice. The battle now raged with fury along
the entire line. The Berbers, without reflection on the consequences,
exposed their half-naked bodies to the swords of the Christian knights,
whose armor received without impression the strokes of the missile
weapons of the Desert. The slaughter of these wretched fanatics was
appalling; but the places of those who fell were instantly supplied
by others, who sought at the hands of the infidel the martyr’s death,
which is a certain passport to the Moslem paradise. In the very
crisis of the struggle, while victory was hanging in the balance, the
day was lost by a flagrant act of treachery. The hajib of Mohammed,
Saad-Ibn-Djiami, who exercised despotic influence over the feeble
spirit of that monarch, had alienated the Andalusians by tyranny. The
governors of the frontier castles taken by the crusaders had been
treated with the greatest indignity by that official, and one, whose
intrepidity had exacted even the admiration of an unfeeling foe, he
had caused to be put to death by torture. The remonstrances of the
Arabs of Andalusia were received with insult; they were declared
inferior in rank and courage to the Almohades, and the hajib publicly
announced that they would hereafter be assigned to the least honorable
position on the march and in the face of danger. The double imputation
of plebeian extraction and cowardice, a reproach as false as it was
unwise, was deeply resented by the Andalusians, many of whose families
traced their lineage beyond the era of the Prophet; their courage had
been tested for centuries in the wars of the Peninsula, and it was
they who had stormed the Christian camp at Alarcos and contributed
far more than the Africans to the completeness of that splendid
victory. Exasperated by the unjust treatment of the hajib, and not
without reason apprehensive of the power such a tyrant would enjoy if
successful, they resolved to sacrifice country, religion, independence,
and honor to the vindication of their offended national dignity. At
a signal from their commander they marched away from the field. The
sudden withdrawal of a body of sixty thousand men produced a panic; the
Moslem lines were shattered, and the terrified fugitives, entangled
in the ropes to which the infantry had been attached, were thrown
into hopeless confusion, and remained at the mercy of the Castilian
cavalry. The efforts of the Christians were now directed towards the
summit of the eminence crowned with the scarlet pavilion of the Sultan.
For a brief period the squadrons of the Almohades held their ground,
but the weight of the armored horsemen eventually proved too great
for the lighter Africans; Sancho, at the head of the Navarrese, broke
the chain which encircled the Moslem entrenchment, and the victory
of Las Navas de Tolosa, forever afterwards famed in song and story,
was lost and won. Mohammed, who, with the apathy of a fatalist, from
his commanding position had viewed the rout of his army, fled with
only four thousand followers. The butchery which ensued exceeded
belief, and the most conservative estimate of the killed was a hundred
thousand. Orders had been issued, in accordance with the merciless
barbarity of the time, that whoever, for any cause, spared the life of
a Moslem should himself be punished with death; and the naturally cruel
instincts of the Spanish soldiery, exasperated by the remembrance of
past reverses and by the losses resulting from a desperate resistance,
scarcely required the incentive of fear to suppress the sentiments of
humanity. From dawn to twilight the conflict had continued, four hours
of that time being consumed in the pursuit and massacre. In the bloody
field, surrounded by the evidences of their valor, the Christians were
assembled, and a Te Deum was chanted by the prelates, who returned
thanks to God for their unexpected deliverance. The greater part of
the spoil was abandoned to his princely associates by Alfonso, whose
pride was content with the glory of success; and well it might be, for
Castile, hitherto an insignificant principality, was now destined to
the enjoyment of more than imperial authority. The value of the horses
and camels, magnificent robes, costly weapons, and gold and silver
utensils was inestimable. For two days the Christian fires were lighted
with the arrows and lances of the enemy, and even then the supply was
far from exhausted. A portion of the massive chain which encircled the
Sultan’s tent was carried to Pampeluna, where, as a votive offering,
it is still suspended before the high altar of the Cathedral; and its
emblem, “or, on a field gules,” was long conspicuous in the blazonry of
the royal escutcheons of Spain, France, and Navarre.

CHAPTER XIX

THE PROGRESS OF THE CHRISTIAN ARMS

1212–1252

General Disorder in the Peninsula--Aggressive Policy
of the Christians--Capture of Ubeda--Al-Mamun--Rise of
Mohammed-Ibn-Hud--Merida taken by the King of Leon--Prosperity
of Barcelona--Jaime I. of Aragon--Siege of Majorca--Terrible
Sack of that City--Extinction of the Almohades--Siege and
Capture of Cordova by Ferdinand--Valencia surrenders to the
King of Aragon--Character of the Struggle between Christian and
Moslem--Xativa--Its Prosperity--Murcia becomes the Property
of Castile--Xativa acquired by Aragon--Death and Character of
Jaime--Rise of the Kingdom of Granada--Its Wealth and Literary
Culture--Ferdinand captures Jaen---Mohammed-Ibn-Ahmar, King
of Granada, renders Homage to Ferdinand--Seville invested by
the Castilians--Great Strength of that City--Its Obstinate
Defence--It is reduced by Famine--Character of Ferdinand the
Saint.

The weakness of a sovereign and the arrogance of a tyrannical minister,
provoking the defection of the Andalusian commanders, had decided the
fate of the Saracen empire in Spain. Other disasters, apparently as
serious, had been retrieved by the able emirs, generals, and statesmen
who from time to time controlled the policy of that empire in the
Peninsula. Other successes, not less brilliant, had been neutralized
by the indecision, the incompetency, the national prejudices, or the
personal rivalry of the conquerors. The battle of Las Navas de Tolosa,
however, was one of the most decisive of the great struggles in which
the Christian and the Moslem powers of the West contended for imperial
supremacy. An interval of five centuries--a period signalized by almost
incessant hostility--separates it from the field of the Guadalete.
During that time a great monarchy had arisen, had reached the summit of
military renown, literary excellence, and scientific culture, and had
fallen, dragging with it the imposing fabric of civilization erected at
such cost and under such favorable auspices as to encourage the hope
that through the influence of its beneficent institutions and from the
glorious example of its success might be effected the thorough and
permanent regeneration of Europe. The khalifate had been succeeded by
an era of anarchy, persecution, ruin. The fairest provinces of the
Peninsula had been repeatedly abandoned to the savage hordes of the
Sahara and to the equally ferocious warriors of the North. More than
once, in the pursuit of their common prey, these fierce invaders,
dissimilar in all the physical characteristics which distinguish
the different races of humanity, yet strangely alike in the mental
instincts peculiar to the unlettered and superstitious barbarian, who
respects no influence but that of superior force, and despises every
profession but that of arms, had encountered each other on fields
of terrific battle. Amidst the confusion engendered by perpetual
conflict, the individuality of the region which once was the centre of
the Ommeyade empire was lost. Its provinces, sufficiently extensive
and opulent to be ranked as kingdoms, were subdivided into scores of
insignificant principalities. The imperial metropolis,--the centre of
Faith, the destination of the pilgrim, the home of art and poetry,
the emporium of commerce,--stripped of her honors and her wealth, was
degraded to the position of a provincial city. Every district had its
sovereign, every town its court, every castle its lord. National unity,
so difficult to establish and preserve among a people whose traditions
were based upon tribal prejudice and individual independence, now
became utterly impossible. With each influx of foreigners came fresh
cause for discord. The energies of the innumerable rulers, who,
through superior address or more propitious fortune, had obtained the
government of the Peninsula, instead of being directed to their mutual
preservation were utilized for each other’s discomfiture. Alliances
were formed with the infidel. Important fortresses were unhesitatingly
surrendered to secure his favor. His garrisons were introduced into
strongholds in the very heart of the Moslem territory. The Koran and
the crucifix were carried side by side in campaigns against loyal and
orthodox sectaries of Mohammed. In spite of the danger of familiarizing
the Christian enemy with the position and strength of their defences,
in spite of the well-known duplicity of that enemy in dealing with
adversaries of another creed, a policy utterly subversive of national
autonomy was encouraged. The fatal passions of the Desert, dormant for
many centuries, revived with tenfold vigor. The relentless spirit of
vengeance dominated every other feeling. A chieftain whose dominions
embraced but a few square miles, whose castle was perched upon some
isolated peak, and whose army numbered a few hundred banditti, cared
not so much for the plunder by which he lived as for the destruction of
his neighbor. The powerful emir, who governed great cities and aspired
to the most grandiloquent titles of royalty, indulged without restraint
his hereditary instincts of national, sectional, or tribal hatred. In
vain wise statesmen, whose sagacity predicted the impending downfall of
the Moslem power, represented the necessity for organization against
the common foe. With sorrow those in whom the feelings of public
spirit and pious zeal were not extinguished saw principality after
principality enriched with the spoils of Moorish cities and, sustained
by the aid of Moorish tribute, exalted to the rank of Christian
kingdoms. With an apathy peculiar to those blinded by prejudice, the
more bigoted partisans viewed the foundation and growth of a new state
which, after many vicissitudes and reverses, having fixed its capital
at the mouth of the Tagus, soon equalled in influence and wealth the
more ancient kingdoms of Leon, Castile, and Aragon. Instead of there
being one direction from which to expect the enemy, he now descended on
every side. The Moslem territory was completely surrounded. The limits
of that territory were annually contracting. The great naval powers of
Italy dominated the Mediterranean. They were intimately connected with
the Christian sovereignties of Spain; their aid had been conspicuously
instrumental in effecting the capture of Almeria; their fleets were at
the disposal of the Holy See, from which now issued bull after bull
summoning the Faithful to new crusades in the Peninsula. Principally
through this impulse, the armies of the Spanish princes were largely
recruited from the most brutal and degraded populations in the world.
Of these, returned adventurers from Palestine and outlawed bandits
from England, France, and Italy formed no inconsiderable proportion.
Such was the totally unprincipled character of these allies, that
they did not hesitate, when opportunity offered, to plunder those in
whose service they had voluntarily enlisted. Under such circumstances,
the ferocity of the conflict, already sufficiently violent, was
intensified. The use of torture became more frequent. The massacre of
prisoners on the eve of a retreat became a popular method of disposing
of such encumbrances to flight. Familiarity with scenes of horror,
continued through many generations, has left an indelible impress on
the character and demeanor of the Spaniard, whose name was long a
synonym for cruelty.

The want of mutual co-operation among the Christian states prolonged
for more than a century the Moslem domination in the south of Spain.
The Emirate of Saragossa, distracted by intestine quarrels, was the
first northern principality to succumb to the encroachments of its
warlike neighbors. Then followed the opening of the Ebro to the sea,
the conquest of the Algarves, or Portugal, the further extension of
the frontier of Castile. Repeated forays obliterated the vegetation
of vast districts which had once exhibited the marvellous results of
Moorish industry. The massacre or deportation of large communities
destroyed in an hour what it had required centuries to create,--a
numerous and thrifty population. The Arabs, whose genius had developed
the civilization of the Khalifate of Cordova, had been exterminated
by civil war or absorbed by the barbarian multitudes which swelled
to enormous numbers the annual tide of African immigration. As has
already been many times remarked, the principles of the Moslem polity
were naturally and necessarily antagonistic to permanent political
union. So long as similar conditions prevailed among the Christians,
the fabric of Moorish power, however shaken, was apparently secure.
But as soon as factions which divided the population of the various
kingdoms were reconciled, as soon as those kingdoms, instead of being
arrayed against each other, presented an unbroken front to the common
enemy, the decayed edifice of Moslem grandeur crumbled into dust. The
victory of Las Navas was the starting-point of a new era. From it dates
the real power of the Spanish monarchy, whose states, not yet united,
but governed by valiant and energetic princes, now first began to
exhibit indications of that portentous influence destined subsequently
to overshadow the continents of America and Europe. A great advance
was made by the kingdom of Castile after the battle of Las Navas de
Tolosa. It at once assumed a higher rank in the society of nations.
New lustre was imparted to its name. Increased prestige became the
portion of its sovereign. Alfonso sent to Rome the tent, the lance, and
the standard of the Sultan,--trophies, considering that they typified
the destruction of Moslem power in the West, of great and far-reaching
significance. The glory of the achievement was purely national. It
was shared by no foreigners. The allies, from whom so much had been
expected, had basely retired in the face of the enemy, and the contest
had been decided by Spanish skill and Spanish valor. Henceforth the
policy of the Christians was aggressive; their forces, consolidated
and fighting under the same banners, were no longer dissipated in
domestic feuds or wasted in the fruitless conflicts of rival interests.
The importance of the victory is demonstrated by the fact that it was
the first decisive step in the triumphal march which conducted the
Christian arms from the banks of the Tagus to the walls of Granada.

After a halt of three days, the victorious army proceeded southward.
Baños and Tolosa fell into its hands. At its approach the people of
Baeza evacuated that city in terror. The mosque was occupied by wounded
fugitives from the battle-field of Las Navas, who had resorted to its
precincts as to a sanctuary, hoping that the cruelty of their pursuers
would respect the sacred character of the edifice where they had sought
an asylum. Their expectation was vain. The mosque, with its helpless
inmates, was at once set on fire and consumed. Then the Christians
besieged Ubeda. This city was one of the most flourishing and populous
in Northern Andalusia. Refugees from Baeza had increased the number
of its inhabitants to nearly a hundred thousand. Its defences were
strong, its garrison was brave, but Italian engineers in the service of
Castile mined its walls and opened a practicable breach. Apprehensive
of the consequences of an assault, the Moors endeavored to negotiate
for safety. In exchange for the unmolested possession of their homes
and the practice of their religion, they offered a million maravedis of
gold. These terms were agreed to by the Christian princes, whose power,
nominally paramount, was in fact subordinated to the authority of the
clergy, already accustomed to dictate the policy of courts and the
movements of armies. The dignitaries of the Church in a body protested
against such indulgence to infidels. Their pious remonstrances
prevailed, and the treaty, which had already received the assent of
both parties, was revoked. Another was then framed by which the Moslems
were allowed to peaceably evacuate the city, with the privilege of
retaining their personal effects. The ransom which they themselves had
suggested was required as a preliminary security, and the delay in its
payment afforded a plausible excuse for the exercise of violence. The
cupidity of the prelates and the soldiers was aroused by the sight of
the accumulated wealth of a thriving community now in their grasp,
and the signal was secretly given for outrage and massacre. In the
frightful scenes that followed, sixty thousand of the inhabitants of
Ubeda perished under the most aggravating circumstances of lust and
cruelty; the remainder were condemned to servitude; the portable wealth
was appropriated by the conquerors, and the place itself was utterly
destroyed. The occupation of the city by the Saracens dated from the
invasion of Tarik. From that time it had never been besieged by a
Christian foe. It contained a large number of Jews, whose property,
amassed by generations of traffic and extortion, made a welcome
addition to the spoils of war. Its great extent was an alleged reason
for its destruction, for the King of Castile is said to have stated as
the motive of such vandalism, “We should never have had people enough
to inhabit it.” Such were the deeds sanctioned by the clergy and
perpetrated under the direction of royal champions of the Faith, by
whose instrumentality the Christian religion was re-established in the
Peninsula.

The capture of Ubeda closed a campaign which, so gloriously begun,
might, if vigorously pursued, have driven the disorganized and
terror-stricken Moslems into the sea. But to the Christian soldiery the
only valuable advantage to be obtained from any victory was a temporary
release from the restraints of discipline. The orgies which accompanied
the taking of Ubeda greatly impaired the effectiveness and diminished
the numbers of the invading army. Debauchery and disease soon avenged
the misfortunes of the Moslems. Thousands, chafing at the confinement
of the camp and anxious to enjoy the fruits of their prowess, openly
deserted. The pious enthusiasm of the King of Castile was abated by the
discouraging circumstances of his situation; his scruples were removed
by the casuistry of prelates whose zeal had been cooled by the lion’s
share of the booty, and the crusade which had recently threatened with
conquest the whole of Andalusia was postponed to a more convenient and
propitious opportunity.

The Sultan Mohammed quitted with the utmost celerity the country which
had been the scene of his humiliation and defeat. After appointing his
son, Yusuf-Abu-Yakub, to the succession, he retired to the seclusion
of his palace, where with the solace of wine and beauty he endeavored
unsuccessfully to forget the failure of his aspirations and the
destruction of that army whose numbers had not inaptly been compared
to the sands of the Desert for multitude. His end is said to have been
hastened by poison administered by the officials of the court, who
saw, with disgust and apprehension, a reign begun with every prospect
of success and glory unprofitably and ignominiously prolonged in the
midst of personal degradation and national misfortune.

The military operations of the ensuing year were checked by a
disastrous famine which, through a total failure of the harvests,
afflicted the kingdom of Castile. The characteristic improvidence
of a people unaccustomed to anticipate or counteract the effects of
such a contingency aggravated the public distress. The highways, the
fields, the banks of streams were strewn with moaning and emaciated
wretches helpless from privation and exposure. Contrary to the rule
which ordinarily obtains during similar visitations, the mortality in
the country greatly exceeded that of the towns. Vast numbers of cattle
died in pastures denuded of vegetation by the drought, unclean animals
were sought with avidity by the famishing, and the revolting resource
of cannibalism was adopted by those in whose breasts the last feelings
of humanity had been eradicated by intense and prolonged suffering. The
immunity afforded the Moslems by this calamity was confirmed by renewed
quarrels between the monarchs of Leon and Castile. The projects of the
latter which looked to the deliverance of Spain from the Saracen yoke
were destined to disappointment, for a fever, the result of inhaling
an atmosphere polluted with the exhalations from thousands of decaying
bodies, ended the career of the victor of Las Nevas in the fifty-ninth
year of his age.

With the death of an imbecile sovereign and the accession of an
infant, new and even more intolerable evils beset the unhappy Moslems
of Andalusia. The provinces of the South were partitioned among the
kinsmen of the successor of Mohammed, who habitually violated, in his
name, every principle of honor and rectitude. The most responsible
official positions were made objects of purchase. Corruption such as
had never been previously known, even under the most unscrupulous
of rulers, flourished in every department of the government. The
four uncles of Yusuf-Abu-Yakub, who had appropriated his Peninsular
inheritance, regarded the country that fortune had placed in their
power as their legitimate prey. The wealthy, fortified by bribes,
openly defied the execution of the laws. The poor, placed at the
mercy of the inexorable tax-gatherer, were reduced to starvation.
Such was the arrogance of these usurpers that they acknowledged no
responsibility to any superior, and the authority of the Sultan was
practically ignored in this portion of his dominions. The people,
exasperated by such treatment and without hope of redress, were ready
to welcome any change as a benefit, and the projects of the Christians
received in the sequel no small encouragement and support from the
despairing victims of Moslem tyranny. Long before the King of Castile
occupied the cities of Andalusia, the way had been paved for their
conquest by generations of misgovernment and oppression. After ten
years passed amidst the sloth and enervating pleasures of the seraglio,
Yusuf-Abu-Yakub died, without having, in reality, exercised control
over his extensive empire for even a single day; nor had he, since his
accession, ever issued from the gates of his capital. Abd-al-Melik,
one of his numerous uncles, whose life had been passed as a dervish,
and whose previous experience hardly fitted him for the arduous and
practical duties of royalty, was raised by the combined voice of the
nobles and the populace to the throne of the Almohades.

In Spain, the Moorish princes of the same family that had heretofore
administered the affairs of the Peninsula, without regard to the claims
of the court of Morocco, openly asserted their independence. The
Emir of Murcia, Abu-Mohammed, by reason of age and superior talents,
obtained an acknowledged ascendency over his brethren. His diligence
and liberality secured many active partisans in the capital of the
empire; his ambition to supplant a weak and inexperienced monarch
unable to sustain the weight of a crown was approved by the populations
of both Andalusia and Al-Maghreb, and the pious Abd-al-Melik returned
without reluctance to the practice of a life of devotion and solitude,
after having relinquished the sceptre to his able and fortunate kinsman.

It is beyond the province of this work to minutely describe the
interminable intrigues, quarrels, and petty revolutions which preceded
the extinction of the Mussulman power in the South of Spain. The
governors of the different provinces exhausted, as usual, the resources
of their subjects by constant and destructive hostility. Such as were
successful were certain to be eventually overwhelmed by their recent
adversaries, who invoked the ready aid of infidel allies. No permanent
advantage was secured excepting by the Christians, whose cause was
materially advanced by the universal prevalence of Moslem discord.
Castilian troops continued to visit with devastation the fertile plains
of Andalusia. Every alliance with the invaders was concluded at the
expense of the Moors, who were compelled to accede without alternative
to the exorbitant demands, by whose acceptance alone they could hope
to retain their power. Fortresses which commanded vital points on the
frontier and the passes and highways into Andalusia were surrendered
as the price of military assistance in the settlement of some
insignificant dispute. Among those who had thus secured the precarious
and expensive friendship of the Christians was Abu-Ali-Edris, surnamed
Al-Mamun, Emir of Seville. By the co-operation of Ferdinand III., King
of Castile, he had dispersed an army of Africans sent to reduce him
to subjection. The Castilians, not accustomed to observe the faith
of treaties longer than it coincided with their immediate interest,
persisted in gratifying their rapacity by destructive incursions on
Moslem soil. Ferdinand, whose reputation as a saint has been somewhat
tarnished by his perfidy as a sovereign and his cruelty as a soldier,
directed in person these raids against his allies. His adventurous
spirit carried him to the very borders of the Vega of Granada. The
frontier strongholds of Priego, Loja, and Alhama fell into his hands.
After menacing the capital, he laid siege to Jaen. Consideration of
the character of the forces engaged in the attack and defence of this
city discloses the peculiarity of this double warfare. In the army of
Ferdinand was a large body of Moorish troops, of which the Emir of
Baeza furnished not less than three thousand horse and twenty thousand
foot. The besieged were assisted by a detachment of Christians whose
nationality is not mentioned, but who were probably Spanish soldiers of
fortune or Italian and French mercenaries.

The enterprise was unsuccessful; the assaults of the besiegers were
vigorously repelled, and Al-Mamun, having collected an army, relieved
the city and routed the Christians in a pitched battle; and the
expedition heralded with such extravagant boasts and begun under the
most auspicious circumstances terminated in defeat and ignominy. The
spoils of conquest were relinquished, the captured fortresses were
speedily retaken, and the booty abandoned in the camp before Jaen more
than recompensed the soldiers of Al-Mamun for the dangers and exposure
of a short and glorious campaign.

That prince was now at liberty to pursue unmolested his schemes
of ambition. The incapacity of the Almohades had left the empire
without a master and the capital without defence. In the absence of
the sovereign, public affairs were administered by the two councils
organized by the Mahdi, an institution which, through all the
vicissitudes attending the development and decline of the Almohade
power, had remained unchanged. With a rapidity that anticipated the
swiftest courier, Al-Mamun, at the head of a strong force of cavalry,
hastened to Morocco. The councillors and the sheiks who had questioned
his authority and disputed his title were peremptorily summoned before
him. In vain they protested their innocence. In vain they confronted
the spies who had reported their treasonable and insulting speeches
to the tyrant. With their families and their friends, who atoned for
their relationship and attachment with a similar fate, they passed
to immediate execution. Their slaves and retainers shared the fate
of their unfortunate lords; and neither the weakness of youth nor
the attractions of beauty availed to secure immunity from the bloody
and indiscriminate sacrifice. A row of five thousand gory heads was
ranged along the walls of the capital, and the sight and odor of
these significant emblems of despotic cruelty effectually checked
all disposition to revolt. With an insolent disregard of religious
prejudice and political tact which it is difficult to comprehend,
Al-Mamun denounced the name and memory of the Mahdi as that of an
unscrupulous and cunning impostor. The form of government he had
instituted had been already abolished by the murder of the Councillors
of State. The name of the false prophet was omitted from the prayer
in the mosques. His title was erased from the inscriptions of the
coinage. All magistrates were prohibited from alluding to him in their
decisions. These measures, adopted in defiance of public sentiment,
were not conducive to the permanence of usurpation. The memory of the
Mahdi was still revered by the illiterate and fanatical masses of
Africa. In all ages sacrilege has been the most dangerous offence of
which a monarch could be guilty; and after these impolitic exhibitions
of jealousy nothing but the ferocious character of their sovereign
deterred the exasperated Berbers from rebellion.

While Al-Mamun was strengthening his empire in Africa, his influence
was rapidly declining in Spain. A new antagonist, well worthy to
assert, in an age of national decadence, the rights of an outraged
people, had arisen as the representative of Andalusian liberty.
Mohammed-Ibn-Hud, who concealed under the mask of patriotism an
ambition which aimed at despotic power, stood forth as the champion of
the oppressed. His extraction was noble,--he was a lineal descendant of
the famous dynasty of Saragossa; but no royal ancestry was required to
dignify a character eminent for military genius, political sagacity,
and the exercise of every princely virtue. Influential chieftains at
once ranged themselves around him. His increasing power enabled him
to seize and retain the Emirate of Murcia. His cause was promoted
by the assurance that all taxes imposed by Almohade tyranny would
be abolished, and that the Africans would be either expelled or
exterminated. These pledges were speedily fulfilled. An overwhelming
proportion of the inhabitants of Moorish Spain supported the claims of
the alleged representative of freedom. The doctrines introduced by the
Mahdi were declared schismatical, and his disciples branded as public
enemies. The mosques in which their rites had been celebrated for more
than a century were cleansed and rededicated with the same solicitude
and ceremony as would have been displayed in the purification of
Pagan temples. Those of the hostile faction who had made themselves
offensively conspicuous were promptly executed; the less obnoxious
were exiled. White, the official color of the followers of the Mahdi,
was superseded by black, the distinguishing badge of the Abbasides;
for Ibn-Hud had already publicly announced his allegiance to the
khalifs of Bagdad. The revolution soon spread to the confines of the
Moslem territory. The Arabs and the Andalusians avenged the accumulated
evils of generations by the butchery of every African who fell into
their hands. The emirs of Granada and Valencia were expelled by the
exasperated populace. Al-Mamun, having undertaken to suppress the
rebellion, sustained a decisive defeat at Tarifa, and the prestige of
Ibn-Hud, increased by this fortunate event, now became greater than
ever.

But a severe reverse was in store for this adventurer, who, elated by
his success, was blinded by illusory visions of imperial splendor.
Alfonso IX. of Leon, after a blockade of many months, took the city
of Merida. This place, the metropolis of Lusitania in the days of the
Roman Empire, was the largest and strongest of the cities of Western
Spain. Its geographical position, in a measure, commanded the frontier,
and its proximity to the valley of the Guadalquivir rendered its
hostile occupation a constant and dangerous menace to the peace of
Andalusia. No one recognized these facts more readily than Ibn-Hud,
and, having for the time suspended his operations against the Sultan
of Morocco, he advanced without misgivings to encounter the Christian
enemy. The latter formed but a handful when compared with the Moslems,
but they did not shrink from the conflict; and we are edified by the
statement of the pious chronicler that St. Jago, with an innumerable
host of angels, fought on the side of the champions of Christ. The
Moors were defeated with great loss, and the entire province of
Estremadura was, in consequence, annexed to the domain of Leon. The
sovereign of that kingdom died soon afterwards, while returning from
a pilgrimage to the shrine of Santiago; the credit of the Saint was
greatly enhanced by this signal victory; and his apparition, mounted
upon a white horse and wielding a flaming sword, was henceforth
visible to the eyes of all true believers in every important engagement
which resulted favorably to the Christian cause.

While in the West the policy and valor of the Kings of Castile and
Leon were gradually undermining the already shattered fabric of Moslem
government, in the East the prowess of another Christian hero had begun
to make serious encroachments upon the fertile and populous region
extending along the Mediterranean from the Alpujarras to the borders
of Catalonia. The acquisition of the latter province by the crown
of Aragon at once raised that kingdom to a prominent rank among the
sovereignties of Western Europe. From a comparatively unknown inland
power it was at once brought into intimate contact with the principal
commercial emporiums of the civilized world. The city of Barcelona, as
has already been mentioned in these pages, attained at an early date
a high and deserved celebrity as a centre of enterprise and industry.
Its maritime facilities equalled those of any European port. In the
thrift and activity of its inhabitants it was superior to all others,
unless, perhaps, Venice or Genoa. Its ships and cargoes were eagerly
welcomed by every trading nation. Long accustomed to a condition of
independence, it had developed a naval power which scarcely yielded in
number and equipment to the forces of its celebrated neighbors,--the
republics of Italy. It presented the sole exception among all the
Moslem communities which had submitted to the Christian arms, in that
this occupancy had not produced stagnation and decay. Under the rule
of its counts, its progress, instead of being retarded as in other
instances, seemed to acquire a new and greater impetus. The population
increased in an unusual, even a phenomenal, ratio, and soon it became
one of the most opulent, one of the most polished, of cities. Its
merchants were the first in Europe to perfect a system of banking
and exchange. The source of Barcelona’s extraordinary commercial
vitality--to which also must be attributed the energy and acuteness
which distinguished its citizens--was the large Hebrew population.
Numerous and intellectual under the Moors, as soon as Catalonia
attained to the dignity of a virtually independent state, the Jews,
save alone in the domain of religious belief, became predominant
in influence. They controlled the treasury. In all but name they
administered the government. Their institutions of learning instilled,
without remonstrance, the most heterodox opinions into the minds of the
Christian youth. Their native practitioners were, since the decline of
the University of Cordova, the most learned medical men of the age.
The unreasonable prejudice attaching to the nationality and the faith
of the Barcelona surgeon did not prevent his employment by the most
bigoted princes of Christendom. The presence of such an accomplished,
shrewd, and highly educated people could not fail to react on those
with whom they were associated in daily intercourse. As a consequence,
Barcelona had acquired, and indisputably merited, the reputation of
being one of the most intelligent, wealthy, and cultivated communities
of mediæval times. With all its advantages, there was still one serious
drawback to its prosperity. The Balearic Isles, lying a hundred and
fifty miles from the main-land,--which, from some inexplicable cause,
have always enjoyed a consideration out of all proportion to their
political or maritime importance,--were still in possession of the
Moslems. They constituted a dependency of the Emirate of Valencia,
having been sold by the Genoese to that principality, after having
remained for a considerable period under the jurisdiction of the
Counts of Barcelona. The governor, Mohammed-Ibn-Ali, who belonged to
the Almohade faction, had provoked the enmity of the Catalonians by
repeated acts of piracy, which were the more inexcusable as he was in
no condition to defend by arms the consequences of his imprudence.

Jaime I., King of Aragon, who had planned the conquest of these
islands, was now about to enter upon that career which eventually
raised him to such an eminent rank among the most celebrated princes of
the thirteenth century. Reared amidst exciting scenes of conquest, from
childhood he seemed inspired with the martial spirit of the crusader.
In the military and chivalrous exercises which formed an indispensable
part of the education of every aristocratic youth, he had no superiors.
Such was the formidable antagonist with whom the Moslems of Eastern
Spain were now to contend for the prize of empire.

As soon as the project of Jaime had been broached to the Cortes, it was
received with the acclamations of every class in his dominions. The
city of Barcelona equipped the larger portion of the fleet. Among those
who thus enthusiastically welcomed hostilities against the Moslem,
none evinced a more energetic and liberal disposition than the clergy.
The church militant was represented by many distinguished prelates,
practised almost from infancy in the art of war. The Archbishop of
Tarragona gave a thousand pieces of gold and a hundred loads of wheat,
and, completely sheathed in steel, entered the crusaders’ camp at the
head of eleven hundred well-armed men. Others responded with equal
alacrity. The nobles vied in zeal and prodigality with the dignitaries
of the Church. The military orders, whose duty and inclination made
such an enterprise the most pious and agreeable of diversions, from far
and near sought the standard of Jaime. A number of French and Genoese
vessels, whose crews were more eager for Moorish spoil than for the
triumph of the Cross, joined the forces of Aragon; and in the autumn
of 1229 a flotilla of nearly two hundred ships set sail from the harbor
of Salou for the island of Majorca.

Warned of the object of the expedition, the Moors had made extensive
preparations for the reception of their enemies. A landing was effected
with difficulty at Palomera, and the Christians, constantly harassed
by the active mountaineers, were compelled to fight their way to the
capital, then known by the name of the island, but familiar to the
ancients as Palma, by which appellation it has also been designated
since the seventeenth century. Heretofore comparatively free from the
attacks of a besieging army, the fortifications of that city were
ill-adapted to withstand the effects of the formidable appliances of
war. The machines constructed by the Italian engineers at Majorca were
among the most ponderous and destructive ever used in Europe. The
strongest towers crumbled under the weight and impetus of the immense
balls of stone projected against them. The walls were mined in several
places. As soon as a breach was opened the Christians rushed to the
attack, only to be repulsed by the determined courage of the besieged.
In their defence the latter displayed a knowledge of war not inferior
to that of their adversaries. The ramparts were equipped with engines
that cast showers of missiles into the Christian camp. The destruction
caused during the day by projectiles from the enemy’s catapults was
repaired at night. The demolished walls were rebuilt with a celerity
that awakened the amazement of the enemy. Obstinate and sanguinary
encounters took place in the depths of the earth, where the mines,
conducted under the walls, were intersected by countermines dug by the
besieged. The latter, greatly annoyed by the stones from the tremendous
engines, resorted to the strange and inhuman expedient of fastening
their prisoners to crosses and raising them upon the battlements,
in the hope of checking the fire of the Christians. These victims of
Moorish cruelty, however, exhorted their companions not to slacken
their efforts; and we are gravely informed by monkish annalists, whose
faith was evidently in an inverse ratio to their veracity, that by
the miraculous interposition of Heaven these candidates for martyrdom
escaped without injury. At all events, the device was a failure,
and, after an exposure of several hours, the captives were returned
to their dungeons, and the operations of the besiegers continued
with renewed and increasing energy. An attempt was next made to cut
off the supply of water by diverting the course of a stream which
ran through the Christian camp. But the vigilance of the Aragonese
sentinels thwarted this plan at its inception. A detachment of Moslems,
while engaged in the work, was surprised and put to the sword, and
the head of its commander, hurled over the walls from a catapult,
proclaimed to the dismayed and astonished garrison the failure of
the expedition and the fate of their comrades. The spirit of the
Moslems, heretofore apparently indomitable, now began to evince signs
of discouragement. Nor was the plight of the Christians much better
in comparison. For seven weeks the siege had continued. It was the
rainy season; their camp drenched by daily storms became a quagmire,
and their efforts were seriously impeded by the unfavorable conditions
of their situation and the inclemency of an autumn memorable for an
incessant tempest. Despite these drawbacks and the stubborn resistance
of the Moors, the constancy of the besiegers remained unshaken. The
admirable arrangements of Jaime had secured the establishment of an
abundant commissariat. Uninterrupted communication with Barcelona gave
encouraging assurance of supplies and reinforcements. The skill of
the Jewish surgeons, who served on the medical staff of the Christian
army, prevented the outbreak of an epidemic in the camp,--an event
more to be dreaded than the weapons or the strategy of a crafty and
courageous enemy. Disheartened by their reverses and doubtful of
their ability to resist much longer the determined assaults of the
invaders, the Moors attempted to negotiate. They agreed to defray all
the expenses incurred by the campaign if the King would withdraw his
forces and conclude a truce. When this proposal was rejected, they
declared their willingness to surrender the capital if transportation
to Africa were furnished such as desired to depart and security were
guaranteed to all who chose to remain. Jaime again refused to consider
a suggestion evidently dictated by a consciousness of declining
strength. The pathetic significance of an indisposition to entertain
favorable terms of submission was unmistakable by those familiar with
the shocking enormities of mediæval warfare. It was now apparent that
the city was destined to pillage. The hardships of the siege induced
by the intrepidity of a people in defence of their homes were to be
expiated by the awful scenes exhibited by a place taken by storm. Many
of the citizens were refugees from the conquered provinces of the
Peninsula; had witnessed or participated in the sack of cities, and
well understood the dreadful fate that was in store for them. Nerved
by the consciousness of their desperate situation, they redoubled
their efforts to repel the enemy, whose engines had almost ruined a
large part of the fortifications, which in several places already
offered vulnerable points of attack. The besiegers began to suffer from
exposure, and the King, fearful that the enthusiasm of his troops might
abate if a decided advantage was not soon obtained, ordered a general
assault. On the last day of the year, before dawn, the Christian camp
was under arms. With all the impressive solemnities of the Catholic
ritual mass was said, the sacrament was administered, and the soldiers
were earnestly exhorted to fight bravely for the Faith. Before an
altar erected for that purpose, the King and the nobles, drawing their
swords, swore to enter the city or perish. The combined influence of
cupidity and fanaticism was too strong to be successfully withstood;
the assailants poured into the breach, and their weight and impetuosity
overwhelmed the garrison, driving it back into the city. The conflict
raged with unremitting fury in the winding streets. The women on the
housetops cast down missiles of every description upon the heads of
the struggling Christians. From the minaret of every mosque came the
stentorian voice of the muezzin, encouraging the Moslems to renewed
action and invoking the curse of Allah upon the infidel. The narrow
thoroughfares and the houses solidly constructed of stone retarded the
progress of the assailants. The Moors fought with desperation for their
homes and their liberty; but animated by the example of their sovereign
and urged on by the presence and the appeals of the ecclesiastics, who,
like their antagonists, the faquis and the muezzins, took a prominent
part in the battle, the Aragonese ultimately prevailed. Fifty thousand
persons perished; thirty thousand were sold as slaves, and a great
number found a temporary asylum in the mountains among the hospitable
and sympathetic peasantry.

As the capital was the centre of a flourishing maritime trade, had been
enriched with the spoils of innumerable piratical excursions, and had
become the residence of many wealthy refugees from Africa, the victors
obtained a magnificent booty. So great was it, indeed, that the horrors
of pillage continued without cessation for eight consecutive days.
Their avarice satiated, the first duty imposed upon the Christians
was the purification of the city. The immense number of dead bodies,
putrefying under a tropical sun, made this an unwelcome and onerous
task; but the labors of the workmen were cheered and accelerated by
the pious assurance of the clergy that a thousand days of pardon would
be accorded them for the head of every misbeliever. The streets were
cleared of the repulsive encumbrances which offended the senses and
impeded traffic; the corpses of the victims of war and brutality were
consumed by fire outside the walls; and the soldiers proceeded to
indemnify themselves for past privations by indulgence in every kind of
debauchery.

Their excesses produced a contagious and fatal distemper, whose
ravages, baffling the skill of the best physicians, completed the
havoc of the sword, and the army became so reduced in numbers and
efficiency that operations were suspended until reinforcements could
be obtained. Fourteen months in all were required for the subjugation
of the island. The native population was enslaved, and the fruits of
conquest were equitably apportioned among the victors. The conquered
territory, especially exempted from the burden of taxation, became the
property of those by whose valor it had been acquired; and Majorca
passed forever from the jurisdiction of the Successors of Mohammed. Its
favorable situation and delightful climate attracted many colonists
from the kingdoms of Southern Europe, and before many years the losses
in population it had sustained by war were repaired; the preponderance
of Moorish characteristics gradually disappeared; and a quarter of a
century had not elapsed before Majorca, in ignorance and orthodoxy,
could challenge competition with the most bigoted state in Christendom.
The island was erected into a fief of the crown, and twelve years
after its occupation Minorca and Ivica, profiting by the example of
their more powerful neighbor, yielded, after a show of resistance,
to the fame and influence of the King of Aragon. The conquest of the
Balearic Isles, preceding that of Valencia--of which, indeed, it was
the necessary prelude, when their dangerous proximity to the African
coast is considered,--was the first and one of the most brilliant of
the many exploits which reflected renown upon the career of Jaime el
Conquistador.

The Almohade monarchy, following the example of almost every government
established under the Moslem polity, was now rapidly hastening to its
end. Its territory had been dismembered. Its prestige, founded upon
a successful career in arms, had vanished. The polygamous families
of the Sultans of Africa furnished, at the decease of every monarch,
a formidable number of pretenders to the vacant throne. In Morocco
a crowd of hostile claimants, many of whom were not allied to the
descendants of Abd-al-Mumen, and whose only titles to sovereignty were
military genius and personal popularity, contended with indifferent
and varying success for the possession of imperial power. Independent
emirates arose at Mequinez and Tlemcen. Al-Maghreb was distracted with
sedition, massacre, civil war. The contagion of strife infected every
class of the hot-blooded population of Northern Africa. An opportunity
for rapine, so congenial to the tastes of the Bedouin and the Berber,
was not long neglected by the predatory tribes of the Desert, and the
Sahara was again made the scene of organized brigandage and guerilla
warfare. The fragments of the great empire founded by the Mahdi
were no longer capable of reunion. Their cohesive power, dependent
on superstitious awe, individual merit, and popular admiration, was
destroyed; the fatal conflicts which for years exhausted the energies
of antagonistic factions had extirpated every vestige of national
ambition and religious zeal; the noble sentiment of patriotism, always
weak in the breast of a barbarian, even when accustomed to civilized
life, was now completely subordinated to private enmity; universal
discord rendered effective resistance to an enemy impossible; and the
last of the Almohades, Edris-Abu-Dibus, perished, a century and a half
after the advent of the Mahdi, in a skirmish with the troops of an
obscure adventurer.

Conditions similar to those prevailing in Africa occupied the
attention and destroyed the efficiency of the Mussulmans of Spain.
With every year, with the inauguration of each successive potentate
of magnificent pretensions and insignificant following, factional
hatred was intensified. The Christians, by cession, by purchase, by
conquest, were rapidly acquiring the territory once embraced by the
khalifate of Cordova, which had been the prize of Moslem valor and
the seat of Moslem faith. The authority of the representative of the
Almohades was confined to a narrow district which scarcely extended
beyond the environs of Seville. The enemies of Islam pressed daily
upon the shrunken confines of the rich and extensive domain conquered
by the soldiers of Tarik and Musa, made illustrious by three centuries
of military success and intellectual progress under the Ommeyades,
and degraded by the African sultans to humiliating dependence on a
barbarian monarchy. In the West, the rich provinces of Lusitania and
the Algarves had been absorbed by Portugal. In the East, the steady
progress of the King of Aragon portended the approaching extinction
of the Mussulman power. The principality of Guadix had assumed the
dignity of a kingdom under the first prince of the Alhamares, a dynasty
eventually destined to revive the departed glories of Cordova in the
new metropolis of Granada. That entire region of the Peninsula which
was still subject to Moslem rule was distracted by the implacable
feuds of aspirants to the disrupted empire of the Almohades. The
impracticability of again uniting the discordant constituents of that
empire was not understood, or even considered. The rival contestants
sacrificed every consideration of patriotic and religious duty to the
gratification of their revenge or the furtherance of their ambition.
Their subjects beheld with apprehension and disgust the purchase of
Christian aid against their brethren by the payment of extravagant
subsidies and the surrender of the bulwarks of the frontier. They saw
the resources wasted which, if properly employed, might have redeemed
from infidel occupation vast tracts of territory whose fertility had
once been the pride of the industrious people of Andalusia. They saw
their own arms turned upon their neighbors, when the combined efforts
of both would have sufficed, if not to successfully resist, at least to
check the progress of the common foe. Three princes indiscriminately
arrayed against each other occupied an unenviable prominence in this
suicidal conflict. In the West, Yahya, the former Almohade sovereign,
held Seville. In the East, his nephew Mohammed-al-Ahmar and the
celebrated partisan Mohammed-Ibn-Hud contended for the possession of
the provinces of Murcia and Granada. The latter, in the ignoble desire
to satiate his vengeance, had secured from the Castilians temporary
immunity from molestation by the daily payment of a thousand pieces of
gold. This ignominious contract was at length rescinded on account of
the remonstrances and threats of the Andalusians, whose fields were
ravaged in security by Christian marauders, while Moslem partisans were
cutting each others’ throats under the walls of Murcia. Ibn-Hud, after
a campaign which terminated with little glory and still less honor for
either party, succeeded in compelling the Christians to retreat,--a
step which they anticipated by the slaughter of their captives.
Repeated raids into the southern provinces were gradually but surely
preparing the way for Christian supremacy. Relying upon the additional
prestige acquired by his recent advantage over the Castilians, Ibn-Hud
negotiated a treaty with Ferdinand, which stipulated for a cessation
of hostilities for four years. The results of this negotiation
indicate the slight regard for the most sacred agreements entertained
by a prince whose services to the Church have procured for him the
questionable honor of canonization. No engagement could have been
assumed under more solemn circumstances. The treaty was ratified by
the signatures, by the oaths, by the pledges of regularly authorized
representatives of the contracting parties. An enormous sum of gold
was paid by the Moslem as a preliminary consideration. But priestly
casuistry and royal ambition had little respect in times of universal
ignorance for the maintenance of national honor or the observance of
public faith. The prelates whispered in the ear of the King that it
was an established principle of the ecclesiastical polity that no
contract was binding which was entered into with an enemy of Christ.
The suggestion was in thorough accordance with the views of Ferdinand,
accustomed, moreover, to implicit obedience to the directions of his
spiritual counsellors. A rare and tempting opportunity was offered
to violate the agreement entered into with the Saracens, for which
the price had already been received. The attention of the latter--who
fancied themselves secure from foreign hostility--had been diverted
from their hereditary foe, and was now concentrated on each other.
Civil war was raging on the borders of Granada, where Mohammed-Ibn-Hud
and Mohammed-al-Ahmar were engaged in a desperate struggle for the
possession of Eastern Andalusia. In consequence of this, as well
as of the presumed inviolability of the treaty, the entire valley
of the Guadalquivir had been stripped of troops. The open country
was practically defenceless. The garrisons of the great cities were
insufficient to resist a siege. Exhausted by a long series of inroads,
the peasants were beginning to again cultivate their farms and rebuild
their desolate homes. No one suspected that the storm was about to
break forth more furiously than ever. Repeated examples of Christian
perfidiousness had been insufficient to teach the Moslems to what
depths ecclesiastical infamy, in the prosecution of schemes of worldly
advantage, was ready to descend.

Some Moorish prisoners, whom the commander of a small detachment of
freebooters was about to send to execution as the most convenient way
of disposing of them, promised, in return for their lives, to place the
eastern suburb of Cordova, which virtually commanded the city, in the
hands of the Christians. The proposal was too alluring to be declined;
the risk of failure was not considered; and, in an age characterized
by the most foolhardy and romantic exploits, the greater the danger
the more fascinating it appeared to the audacious spirits who lived
upon the excitements of border warfare. During a stormy night in the
month of January, 1236, the assailing party, numbering but a few
hundred, advanced in silence to scale the walls of one of the largest
Moslem cities of the. Peninsula, which, although greatly diminished
in population since the era of the khalifate, still contained more
than a hundred thousand inhabitants. A few agile soldiers succeeded
in reaching the ramparts; the guard was surprised and despatched, and
the gate was at once thrown open to their comrades. The suburb thus
entered by the Christians was one of the five principal quarters or
wards into which the metropolis of Moorish Spain had been originally
divided. Completely isolated from the remainder of the capital by
a line of fortifications, it gave an enemy far greater facilities
for defence than the mere penetration into a walled town of ordinary
character would have afforded. The first intimation of their misfortune
was communicated to the citizens at daybreak by the tumult which
accompanied the inauguration of pillage and murder. Taken completely
by surprise and hemmed in on every side, there was no possibility
of effectual resistance and but little hope of escape. The garrison
issued from the citadel, but were unable to dislodge the Christians,
who, inured by long practice to similar encounters, and favored by
the tortuous streets and by the towers occupied by the cross-bowmen,
easily held their ground against overwhelming odds. But notwithstanding
their temporary success, their situation was desperate. It was hardly
possible that so small a force would be able to maintain itself in the
centre of a hostile community until reinforcements could arrive. Yet
such was the undaunted resolve of the assailants, who, now besieged in
turn, were subjected to the harassing effects of unremitting conflict.
Messengers requesting aid had been early sent to Alvar Perez, the
commandant of the frontier, and to King Ferdinand at Leon. The knights
of Calatrava and Alcantara responded with eagerness to the call to
arms, and with these and a considerable body of militia, to whom were
confided the patrol and defence of the border, the Castilian general
hastened to Cordova.

When he received the message, Ferdinand was at a banquet. His
martial followers learned with exultation of the prospect of a new
campaign, and the scene of mirth and festivity was at once exchanged
for the stern and serious preparations for war. The season was most
unpropitious to military operations. The winter rains had flooded the
country, raised the streams far beyond their banks, and rendered the
roads impassable. A long and toilsome journey separated the capitals
of Leon and Andalusia. But nothing could daunt the spirit of the
Castilian and Leonese chivalry, whose religious fervor and martial
enthusiasm were augmented and stimulated by the example of their king.
The exigencies of the situation would not tolerate delay. Communication
with remote districts was difficult, and but three hundred horsemen
could be raised to follow Ferdinand in an expedition which promised far
more danger than glory. The Christians surrounded at Cordova formed but
an insignificant force, wholly inadequate, it would at first appear,
to the conquest of a strong and populous capital. But fortune, which
had so frequently aided in promoting the designs of Spanish audacity,
again interposed in favor of the champions of the Cross. In their
extremity, the Cordovans had repeatedly implored Mohammed-Ibn-Hud,
whose army was encamped at Ecija, to raise the siege before more
Castilian troops arrived. Had these requests been heeded, the utter
destruction of the Castilians could hardly have been prevented. That
cautious leader, however, entertained a wholesome dread of the prowess
of his enemies, and hesitated to confront in battle, even when the
conditions were all in his favor, the redoubtable warriors of the
North. He delayed, he temporized, he sent renegade spies into the
Christian camp, who, having been detected, seized the opportunity to
stipulate for pardon on condition of their return of false reports
to the Moorish general. Their representations of the exaggerated
numbers of and hourly increasing accessions to the Castilian army were
believed; Ibn-Hud declined to risk his power upon the event of a single
engagement, and the Cordovans beheld with sorrow and indignation the
disappearance of their only hope of escape. Retribution soon overtook
the vacillating and too credulous Moslem prince. The siege of Valencia
had been formed by the King of Aragon, and the entreaties of its Emir
had more weight with Ibn-Hud than the plaintive appeals of his other
imperilled countrymen. While on his march to reinforce that monarch
he halted at Almeria. That city was governed by a secret partisan
of Mohammed-al-Ahmar, who saw in this unexpected visit a convenient
opportunity to increase his favor with his patron. A magnificent
banquet was prepared, and the noble and wealthy merchants of Almeria
contended with each other in honoring the distinguished guest. The
choicest wines of Spain were provided in the greatest variety and
profusion for the canonically prohibited, but none the less acceptable,
entertainment of the assembled Moslems. At a late hour Ibn-Hud was
conducted to his chamber and drowned in the basin of a fountain by
slaves who had received their instructions from the governor himself.
His death was officially attributed to apoplexy resulting from
intoxication; but popular suspicion was not slow in tracing to its true
origin the sudden end of the victim of broken faith and perfidious
hospitality.

By the assassination of Mohammed-Ibn-Hud was removed the greatest
remaining obstacle to Castilian conquest. He alone, of all the Moorish
potentates of Spain, had refused to barter Moslem territory for
Christian aid. When his political necessities required the co-operation
of the infidel power, that power was reluctantly purchased with
gold, and not with the surrender of fortresses to be used as a basis
for hostile operations, and which could never be regained. He was
the most prominent representative of Hispano-Arab nationality that
had appeared for generations in the Peninsula. In opposition to him
were arrayed the various elements which, in many respects mutually
inimical, combined either purposely or unconsciously for the subversion
of the Saracen empire, the greed and brutality of the Berbers, the
fanaticism of the theologians, the hopeless aspirations of a horde
of princely adventurers, the indomitable energy and perseverance of
the Christian sovereigns. Against these destructive agencies Ibn-Hud
conducted a brave but hopeless struggle. Prejudice against African
domination had been aggravated by centuries of crime and oppression.
But Berber influence was still potent in many communities, and in
some predominantly so. Immigration and intermarriage had contributed
largely to consolidate and preserve the power originally obtained
by violence. Ibn-Hud was in no sense the champion of the clergy. He
was accused of atheism; his speech was often blasphemous, and he was
habitually addicted to immoderate indulgence in wine. But these faults
would have been readily condoned by ecclesiastical indulgence if their
possessor had exhibited an edifying subserviency to the ministers of
religion. Instead of this, however, he lost no opportunity of turning
the hypocritical professions of the faquis into ridicule, a course
which, by alienating a numerous and influential sect, materially
accelerated the hour of Christian triumph. The suicidal behavior of the
petty rulers and soldiers of fortune who indulged the fallacious hope
of empire has already been repeatedly alluded to in this work. United,
they might have deferred for a time the inevitable day of reckoning for
official misconduct and national corruption; separated and hostile,
they destroyed the basis of all power and social organization, and the
stability of none so quickly as their own.

The murder of Ibn-Hud caused the immediate disbanding of his troops,
and the investment of Cordova proceeded without fear of interference
from an army which, properly commanded, could easily have raised
the siege. Ali-Ibn-Yusuf, the brother of the dead prince, obtained
the Emirate of Murcia, of which, however, he was soon deprived by
assassination through the instrumentality of Mohammed-al-Ahmar,
and, together with the principality of Almeria, it was added to the
territory of the rising kingdom of Granada.

Their desertion by Ibn-Hud and the intelligence of his tragic death
struck the citizens of Cordova with terror. Notwithstanding his
pusillanimous conduct, they had still hoped that he might ultimately
effect their deliverance. Now, however, there was no one to whom they
could turn for succor. News of the important enterprise in which the
King of Castile and Leon was engaged had already spread to the most
distant settlements of the Christian territory. Citizen and peasant,
noble and mountaineer, braving the inclemency of an unfavorable season
and the dangers of swollen torrents and flooded highways, hastened
to the seat of war. The dismay of the besieged increased with each
shout which announced the arrival of a new detachment at the Castilian
camp. The Christians made frequent and desperate attempts to carry
the place by storm. The garrison was worn out with the fatigue it was
compelled to undergo; and the effeminate and disorderly populace were
ill-qualified to perform the duties of soldiers. Walls and towers were
tottering under the blows of the military engines. The suddenness
of the attack had found the city, which, nominally protected by a
truce, dreamed of nothing less than a siege, entirely unprovided with
supplies. Food became scarce. It was manifest that the inevitable
destiny of the ancient metropolis of the Ommeyade khalifate could
not long be postponed. Actuated by motives of self-preservation and
humanity, the Moorish authorities determined to make terms with the
King, and to avoid if possible the awful calamities which had been
visited upon so many of the unfortunate cities of Andalusia. The
capitulation was made under the distressing conditions usually imposed
in such cases upon the vanquished. The inhabitants were required to
abandon everything and to depart from the province. As the long and
weeping train of penniless exiles passed out of the gates on one side
the conquerors entered on the other. It was with the greatest display
of military and ecclesiastical pomp that the Christians took possession
of the famous Moslem capital. The old walls echoed the tread of mailed
squadrons, the stirring notes of the trumpet, and the solemn chants of
the clergy, who, in all the splendor of glittering vestments, jewelled
censer, and crucifix, occupied the post of honor in the procession. The
royal standard of Castile and Leon was planted on the highest tower
of the fortifications. It was with wonder, not altogether unmingled
with reverence, that the ignorant and ruffian soldiery viewed the
exquisite beauty of the Great Mosque,--the shrine which, venerated as a
sanctuary, had invited the pilgrimage of the devout of distant nations;
the temple which had been enriched by the emulous munificence of the
most opulent and polished princes of Europe; the edifice which, alone
of all the marvellous architectural creations of the Hispano-Arab age
of gold, had survived intact the fury of religious discord, the tumult
of revolution, the extinction of dynasties, the destruction of empires.
Amidst the vicissitudes of invasion, conquest, and revolt, a veneration
akin to idolatry had always invested the Djalma of Abd-al-Rahman. The
exterior still glowed with the warm and brilliant coloring of the
Orient. The court-yard still exhibited in its diversified horticulture
the capricious taste of the Andalusian gardener. Inside, the presence
of the myriads of pious worshippers who had trodden its interminable
aisles in the course of five eventful centuries had left few permanent
traces. The pattern of the elegant pavement was partially effaced.
Within the Mihrab--the centre of the little sanctuary which looked
towards the temple of Mecca--a channel deeply worn in the marble floor
indicated where countless pilgrims, in imitation of the ceremonies of
the Kaaba, had seven times made its circuit on their knees. These,
however, were the sole but eloquent testimonials of the continuous
devotion of fifteen generations. The walls were hung with that richly
embossed and decorated leather whose name indicated the Ommeyade
capital as the place of its invention and manufacture. The ceiling
sparkled in the semi-obscurity with its gilded pendentives and silver
stars. Upon the arches of the Mihrab appeared in untarnished beauty the
dazzling mosaics which had been the pride of the Byzantine artisan.
The treasures of the mosque, the mimbar, or pulpit, the chandeliers,
lamps, and censers, were all, save one, in their accustomed places. The
most precious object of Moslem reverence, the Koran of Othman, regarded
as the talisman of Spain, had been carried away to Africa by the
Almohade monarch, Abd-al-Mumen, and with its departure, according to
the superstitious belief of the devout, had vanished the last warrant
of the security of Moslem power. That ornament of the Mihrab--the
relic stained with the blood of a martyred khalif, the first of a
race whose martial energy and literary endowments were destined to
dignify and honor the royalty of Islam--was now in the hands of foreign
and inappreciative barbarians. From the ceiling were suspended the
bells of the church of Santiago, placed there by the great Al-Mansur,
significant trophies of the victorious career of that most renowned of
Moorish commanders. But once before in its history had this splendid
temple, which, in public estimation, was inferior in holiness only to
the mosques of Mecca and Jerusalem, been desecrated by the presence
of the infidel. Now, however, it was eternally lost to the religion
for the celebration of whose rites it had been founded. The Mussulman
pilgrim, attracted by the reputation of its sanctity and the fame of
its unrivalled magnificence, could henceforth no more invoke the name
of the Prophet within its venerable walls.

The vast edifice was almost deserted as the Christian procession,
headed by the greatest prelates of Spain, filed slowly through its
portals. A few of the attendants peered curiously from behind the
pillars at the splendid array, whose appearance was the ominous signal
of the final suppression of the Mohammedan faith in the Peninsula.
Amidst the prayers of the priests and the shouts of the soldiery, the
cross was raised upon the cupola of the Mihrab. In accordance with the
prescribed ceremonies of the Roman Catholic ritual, the edifice was
cleansed of the abominations presumed to have infected it under the
ministrations of another and a hostile belief. The mosque was dedicated
as a cathedral, whose see was enriched with donations of some of the
most valuable estates of the conquered territory. In pious retribution
for the sacrilege which had appropriated them, the bells of Santiago
were returned to the church from which they had been taken upon the
shoulders of Moorish captives. The latter, as they painfully traversed
the extensive regions that separated the plains of Andalusia from
the cheerless Galician solitudes--regions which once trembled at the
very mention of Moslem heroes--might well reflect upon the transitory
character of religious faith and the instability of human greatness.

The compulsory evacuation of Cordova struck a blow at its prosperity
from which it never recovered. With natural advantages enjoyed by few
communities, it remains to this day the most poverty-stricken and
stagnant of the great cities of Spain. Its vitality is preserved by
the wealth and resources of its ecclesiastical establishment alone.
Its markets are deserted, its thoroughfares grass-grown and silent.
A grotesque and tawdry church rises in the very centre of the mosque
of Abd-al-Rahman, impairing its symmetry, and furnishing an eternal
monument to the folly and prejudices of a fanatical priesthood. The
banished population carried with it a thrift and an industry which
centuries have not been able to replace. Many arts, brought to a high
degree of perfection, disappeared with its expulsion. The walls begun
by the Cæsars, and greatly extended by the princes of the House of
Ommeyah, embraced within their circumference the original area of
the once populous Moslem capital. Time, however, had dealt severely
with that far-famed city. Entire quarters had been depopulated by
the fury of rebellion, the vicissitudes of political fortune, the
ravages of conquest. Streets, formerly crowded with merchants and
brokers of every clime, were impassable from the accumulated rubbish
of demolished houses. The alcazar, which adjoined the mosque, was
a dismantled ruin. The rage of the populace and the vandalism of
African invaders had swept away the palaces whose number and elegance
had awakened the admiration of every beholder. The villas of the
suburbs had disappeared. The lovely gardens, in whose culture and
preservation had been exhibited the utmost perfection of horticultural
art, were now impenetrable thickets, from whose tangled depths, here
and there, rose a heap of fallen columns or a broken horseshoe arch.
Under the khalifate, the Valley of the Guadalquivir was so thickly
settled as to present the appearance of one vast community, and from
Cordova to Andujar countless villages attested the fertility of the
soil and the thoroughness of its cultivation. At the time of the
Christian occupation this region had become a desert, and a desert
it has since remained. For the intelligence and energy of the Moslem
were substituted the sloth and ignorance of the monk; ecclesiastical
councils, in which were solemnly discussed the alleged inspired origin
of absurd dogmas, usurped the place of the literary assemblies of the
khalifs; and the monastery and the episcopal palace, with their secret
crimes and open vices, rose upon the ruins of institutions of learning
whose instruction had developed the greatest minds of Europe, and whose
influence and principles had dignified even the papal throne.

While the Castilians were prosecuting their important campaign in the
West, the genius of the King of Aragon was again asserting itself
in the principality of Valencia. Under the lax system of political
morality prevalent during the Middle Ages, an insignificant event was
not infrequently made the pretext for a protracted and bloody war.
Abu-Djomail, Emir of Valencia, for some reason deferred the delivery of
tribute to Jaime, his suzerain, and the latter, elated by the conquest
of Majorca, determined to make this an excuse to add to his already
extensive dominions the most valuable remaining province of Spain.
Profoundly politic as well as brave, the King of Aragon obtained the
official sanction of Pope Gregory IX. for his meditated design, and the
inauguration of a fresh crusade was proclaimed to the bold adventurers
of Europe. An extraordinary tax was voted for the pious enterprise by
the Cortes of Catalonia; a great army was assembled, and the campaign
was begun by the siege of Burriana, a strongly fortified seaport, whose
numerous garrison and maritime relations with the neighboring states
of Africa promised a long and vigorous resistance. This expectation
was verified to the letter. Several months elapsed before the place
surrendered. It was midwinter, for the impetuosity of Jaime did not
consider, in the attack on an enemy, either the disadvantages of the
season or inferiority in numbers. In the conduct of this siege he
displayed the qualities of an able commander even more conspicuously
than he had done before Majorca. He personally directed the operations
of the military engines. He led the troops to the breach. He exercised
careful supervision over the camp, provided for the comfort of the
soldiers, dressed the wounds of the injured, cheered with words of
consolation the last moments of the dying. The severe privations it
was called upon to endure damped the enthusiasm of the army. Some of
the discontented nobility demanded that the siege be raised. The King
refused, even in the face of the imminent desertion of a majority
of his troops. While the malcontents remained sullenly in camp, he,
supported only by a few faithful followers, skirmished daily with the
enemy, who, having learned the condition of affairs, had assumed the
offensive. At length the determination of the King prevailed, and
the nobles returned to their duty. The siege was thenceforth pressed
with redoubled energy, and Burriana was soon added to the long list
of Jaime’s conquests. Its reduction caused the immediate surrender of
the strong city of Peniscola and of a considerable number of towns
in the Valencian territory. The disaffection of the Aragonese and
Catalonian nobility was removed by these successes, and their fidelity
was confirmed by the immediate investiture of the most distinguished of
their number with the larger part of the conquered domain,--a politic
measure which increased their military and feudal obligations, while it
temporarily secured their attachment and gratitude.

From the day of his accession to the hour when he entered the Moorish
capital in triumph, the absorbing desire of Jaime was the conquest
of Valencia. The difficulties which presented themselves to the
realization of this project only confirmed the resolution of the King.
A few miles from the city stood the fortress of Puig. Its impregnable
situation and close proximity to the metropolis of the kingdom rendered
its possession highly advantageous to an army besieging Valencia. It
had fallen into the hands of the Aragonese after the capitulation
of Peniscola, and its defences had been greatly strengthened by the
Christian engineers. During the absence of Jaime, an army of forty
thousand Moslems, commanded by the Emir in person, appeared before it.
The garrison was greatly inferior in numbers, but composed of picked
warriors never accustomed to count their enemies excepting after a
victory. Their intrepidity hardly allowed them to await the approach of
the Valencians. They issued from the gates; their sudden and impetuous
attack disconcerted their adversaries; and the discomfiture of a host
of twenty times their number added a new trophy to the innumerable
triumphs of Christian valor. The battle of Puig destroyed the
confidence of the Moslems of Valencia, and they never again ventured to
encounter their terrible antagonists in the open field.

Despite the favorable beginning of the campaign, the Aragonese army
was daily reduced by desertions, and when, a few weeks afterwards, it
encamped before Valencia, it mustered less than fifteen hundred strong.
Rarely had an enterprise of such importance been undertaken with so
small a force. In addition to its numerical weakness, its efficiency
was impaired by a general feeling of suspicion, engendered by a lack of
confidence and an absence of discipline. Many nobles abandoned their
king, often without notice, taking their retainers with them. Those
who remained could not be relied on, and had, in fact, good reason
for discontent. The daily winter rains increased the difficulty of
military movements and the danger of disease. Few of those who had
served in the former campaign cared for a repetition of the experiences
before Majorca. The presence of a brave and treacherous enemy rendered
increasing vigilance indispensable and magnified the already arduous
labors of a siege whose issue, under existing circumstances, could
hardly be successful. The pay of the soldiers was in arrears, and the
treasure chest, exhausted by unusual demands and plundered by dishonest
custodians, was empty. The camp resounded with complaints. The murmurs
of the courtiers were not suppressed even in the royal presence. When
the King announced his intention to return for the purpose of seeking
reinforcements, the remaining nobles declared that they would accompany
him and renounce an undertaking which promised nothing but disaster.
But relief was at hand from a quarter whence substantial encouragement
had already been repeatedly obtained in wars with the Moorish infidel.
The crusading spirit, generally nourished by incentives wholly foreign
to the principles of religion, which, however, always afforded a
convenient pretext for the most flagrant outrages against humanity, was
by no means dormant in Europe. Another crusade was proclaimed by the
Holy See. The passions of rapacious adventurers were inflamed with the
hope of conquest, while the promise of unlimited pardons, indulgences,
and booty attracted to the standard of the Cross a motley concourse of
criminals, outlaws, and fanatics. France and England furnished almost
all of these recruits, who numbered nearly seventy thousand. With such
an army, which was constantly supplied with provisions by sea, the
ultimate result of the campaign seemed no longer doubtful. To prove
to the enemy, as well as to his own followers, his intention not to
abandon his position until the city should be captured, Jaime made use
of every artifice and expedient at his command. The Christian camp by
degrees assumed the appearance and character of a permanent outpost.
The quarters of the soldiery were constructed of substantial materials.
The Queen, attended by the ladies of the court, arrived and took up
her residence in the royal pavilion. Operations were pressed with
increasing diligence. The Moors, impressed by these ominous evidences
of the unalterable purpose of the besiegers, attempted to negotiate.
All the territory between Teruel, Tortosa, and the Guadalquivir--a
region of boundless fertility and defended by many strong fortresses,
together with a yearly tribute of ten thousand pieces of gold--was
offered as the price of peace. The King, conscious of his advantage,
declined to listen to any terms of accommodation which did not include
the capitulation of the city. The prize almost within his grasp was
too valuable to be made the subject of barter. The traveller who
to-day traverses the province of Valencia is amazed and enchanted with
its productiveness and beauty. Yet what he sees is a comparatively
insignificant portion of that which was once under the highest
cultivation attainable by any system of agriculture. The density of
the population required the greatest economy and labor in the division
and use of both land and water. Hills that are now rocky and barren.
were, under Moorish occupation, covered to the very summits with
verdant terraces. Irrigation, governed by a code of laws which Spanish
conceit and prejudice have never been able to repeal, was carried to
almost absolute perfection. Every product flourished in a climate
not inaptly compared with that of Paradise. The natural resources
and accumulated wealth of such a principality were too alluring to
permit its long continuance in the hands of those whose skill and
patient efforts had founded and perpetuated its prosperity. At the
sight of the voluptuous regions of Southern Spain, the Christian of
the inhospitable North often forgot his country and the deeds of his
heroic ancestors who had wrested with difficulty from the infidel a
foothold in the Pyrenees; in the presence of the lovely houris of
another faith he sometimes renounced his religion and his God. The
Spanish crusades were not characterized by the absurd but sincere
fanaticism which was the chief motive that inspired the expeditions
to Palestine. No kings or courtiers abandoned home, country, friends,
and family to obtain an object of doubtful expediency in the midst
of an arid and scorching desert. No misguided multitude, roused by
ecclesiastical eloquence, undertook the most interminable of journeys,
endured the most horrible of privations for the recovery of the Holy
Sepulchre, which omnipotent wisdom or Moslem valor had left since the
reign of Omar, with a single slight intermission, in the hands of the
infidel. The warriors who assumed the cross in the Peninsula were men
of a widely different stamp from the followers of Peter the Hermit or
the vassals of Philip Augustus and Richard Plantagenet. It is true
that some of them had served in the Holy Land; but these were not fair
representatives of the brave, the chivalrous, the pious crusaders.
Their incentives had been mercenary, or they may have sought security
for unpardonable crimes in the confused obscurity of a multitude of
strangers. The most ignoble designs were concealed by the ample but
well-worn mantle of religion. The wealth of the Moorish cities, the
seductive influence of the climate when contrasted with the inclement
and dreary atmosphere of Central and Northern Europe, the beauty and
grace of the Mohammedan women were well known to every nation from
Byzantium to Britain. It was no secret, either, that the population of
the terrestrial paradise which bordered on the Mediterranean had long
since lost the prestige and the strength which had distinguished the
armies of the khalifate, and was not fitted to contend with fierce
and powerful warriors reared amidst cold and privation, trained to
martial exercises from infancy, and whose occupation and pastime
alike were war. The accomplishment of the Reconquest would have been
long and indefinitely deferred had it depended on the exertions
of the Spaniards alone. Credit for the exploits which subdued and
eventually consolidated under the Castilian sceptre the Hispano-Arab
principalities is in no small degree due to the prowess of adventurers
from every country in Christendom. The frenzied exhortations of monkish
zealots were not required to excite the passions of the foreign
crusader who volunteered in the armies of Jaime and Ferdinand. In his
eyes the propagation of the Faith was merely an excuse for pillage. He
was conspicuously negligent in the performance of his religious duties,
extended experience and observation having thoroughly familiarized him
with the inconsistencies and the failings of the clergy, and inspired
him with a contempt for that order which he was usually at no pains
to conceal. His attachment to the cause of Christ lasted just as
long as it was profitable. Such considerations are not applicable,
however, to the independent Christian population of Spain. With it the
extinction of Moslem domination was a measure of political necessity,
of national existence, of individual freedom. For five hundred years
the struggle had continued. More than once the petty states which had
sprung from the weak and insignificant community established in the
Asturias in the face of Moorish triumph, expanded by ages of undaunted
resolution and superhuman valor, and finally developed into a number
of kingdoms whose mutual antagonisms were the greatest menace to their
stability and power, had been on the point of submitting once more
in humiliating subordination to Moslem authority, evidenced by the
regular and humiliating rendition of homage. Generations of battle
had engendered in the mind of the Spanish Christian a sentiment of
ferocious hatred against the infidel enemy who had usurped the empire
of his ancestors; who had defeated his most valiant sovereigns; to
whose harems had been consigned the most beautiful maidens of his
race, either as a degrading tribute or as the spoils of war; whose
sacrilegious hands had seized the sacred treasures of his altars; who
had deposited with exultant shouts within the mosque of his capital the
bells whose solemn tones had so often called to their devotions the
pilgrims assembled at the holy shrine of Santiago. The grosser passions
of avarice and military ambition were, indeed, rarely absent from the
motives which prompted the conduct of the mediæval Spaniard. Inherited
prejudice, early education, the maxims of his religious guides, all
had a tendency to intensify the detestation entertained by him against
such as refused assent to the doctrines of his creed. The Castilian
despised the knowledge and the intellectual accomplishments which made
the Moor immeasurably his superior, but he often reluctantly confessed
the bravery of his infidel adversary in the field. This antipathy and
intolerance, while openly encouraged by the clergy for professional
reasons, were in reality less marked among the ecclesiastics than
elsewhere. As their order monopolized the meagre learning of the time,
they were better qualified to appreciate the scientific acquirements
which distinguished the polished enemies of their faith. As
representatives of a system largely maintained by organized hypocrisy,
they condemned in public what they often studied with wonder and
delight in the luxurious solitude of the convent and the monastery. The
prelates as well as the nobles did not disdain to imitate the vices of
the Moslem, especially condemned by their religion, their canons, the
precepts of their Founder, and the example of the chaste and abstemious
Fathers of the Church. The writings of the heterodox Mussulmans were
not unfamiliar to the more intelligent and inquisitive members of the
Spanish hierarchy. The theological gloom of the episcopal palace was
dispelled by the joyous presence of lovely infidels, whose caresses
were more attractive to the clerical voluptuary than the monotonous
ceremonies of the mass, and whose suggestive dances, relics of the
licentious diversions of Pagan antiquity, were frequently performed for
the delectation of saintly visitors in the most retired apartments of
the ecclesiastical seraglio.

Incentives other than those inspired by disinterested piety had great
weight with the majority of the Spanish clergy. The Church, through
the diligently fostered fears and the misdirected liberality of its
superstitious adherents, was always the greatest beneficiary of a
successful campaign against the Saracen. The lucrative precedent for
the accumulation of treasure, eventually consumed in the construction
and adornment of the palatial religious houses of the Peninsula,
whose number and magnificence, although sadly diminished, are still
sufficient to excite the envy of Catholic Europe, had already been
established. The annual contributions bestowed by royal munificence
or wrung from individual poverty were but a pittance when compared
with the booty to be secured by the Church militant at the capture
of a single Moslem city. Uncanonical considerations were, moreover,
no insignificant inducements to the martial ecclesiastic to abandon
for a time the cope for the cuirass. The formal and traditional
obligations of his order were but lightly regarded by the Castilian or
the Leonese prelate. His vow of poverty had long been forgotten amidst
the boundless epicureanism of elegant luxury, magnificent furniture,
expensive and gaudy raiment, priceless jewels, the possession of
horses whose purity of breed moved the envy of the greatest nobles, the
parade of trains of slaves whose physical attractions were indisputable
proof of the taste and incontinence of their masters. The Spanish
hierarchy, independent of the Papacy from the early days of Gothic
domination, was far from presenting in its polity the nice distinctions
of official rank and the rigid subordination to superiors exhibited
in the profound and elaborate organization of the papal system. Each
prelate enjoyed a large share of independence in his own diocese, and
recent acknowledgment of the paramount claims of the See of Rome had
not abrogated the ecclesiastical prerogatives confirmed by prescriptive
right based upon the uninterrupted usage of centuries. The vow of
implicit obedience--generally considered an unmeaning formality and
unknown in practice under the Visigoths--was for generations after
the public submission to papal supremacy disregarded as an imperative
obligation of the clergy. Such was the condition of the Spanish
priesthood and such the base and inconsistent motives which prompted
the overthrow of the most perfect examples of material and intellectual
progress which had adorned and instructed Europe since the climax of
Roman civilization.

The great accession of moral strength secured through the
instrumentality of the Papacy enabled the King of Aragon vigorously
to assume the offensive. A great fortified camp, whose works defied
the feeble and desultory efforts of the besieged, now encircled the
city of Valencia. The machines were placed in position, the walls
were mined, and intercourse with the Moors on the side of the land
effectually intercepted. By the sea, however, communication was as yet
comparatively clear, and pressing messages for assistance were sent by
the beleaguered Moslems to their brethren in Andalusia and Africa. To
these appeals no one responded except the Emir of Tunis, whose squadron
was not able to effect a landing in the face of the overwhelming
numbers of the enemy. After the departure of the Africans, the
Catalonian navy formed the blockade of the port; under the increased
exertions of the besiegers the walls began to crumble, and the
inhabitants held themselves in constant readiness to repel a storming
party. It required no power of the imagination to picture the result
of a successful attack by the lawless troops now besieging the city.
The melancholy examples of beautiful and populous towns delivered up to
pillage were fresh in the mind of every Moslem in the Peninsula. Of all
the Christian armies which the Saracens of Spain had yet encountered,
that of Jaime contained the largest proportion of foreign adventurers.
The native soldiery, seldom accessible to pity, were humane when
compared with the fierce and bloodthirsty outlaws who formed the bulk
of the crusaders. These considerations were not lost upon the people
of Valencia, who could not hope to hold in check much longer an enemy
whose numbers, valor, and military resources gave him such decided
advantages over a garrison exhausted by prolonged hostilities, whose
defences were rapidly becoming untenable, whose provisions were almost
exhausted, and which had no prospect of reinforcements or aid from any
quarter. Haunted by the dread of massacre, the Valencians proposed
terms of surrender, which the prudence of Jaime readily induced him
to accord. They were expressly guaranteed against the violence of the
troops, a provision which experience had frequently demonstrated to be
but a precarious security. Such as chose to remain were promised the
undisturbed enjoyment of their possessions, their individual liberty,
and their religious faith. All taxes, excepting those ordinarily
imposed on the people of Aragon, were to be abolished. To those who
preferred to tempt the doubtful fortunes of voluntary exile were
conceded their arms and all the portable property they could carry,
with the assurance that their Journey through the territory occupied by
the Christians might be prosecuted without molestation. The majority of
the Moslems adopted the latter alternative. The uncontrollable temper
of their enemies, infuriated by the loss of anticipated booty and
inflamed with religious hatred, was too great a menace to be lightly
braved in the presence of men who would, under the most insignificant
pretext, indulge to satiety their ferocious instincts.

Fifty thousand persons abandoned their homes and sought temporary
safety beyond the Xucar, which was designated as the new boundary
of Christian conquest; a truce nominally of seven years, but whose
actual duration was entirely dependent on the capricious indulgence
of the victor, was agreed upon, and the royal standard of Aragon was
raised by the Moslems themselves upon the battlements of Valencia. It
required all the authority of the King to repress the fierce passions
of his unruly followers, some of whom did not hesitate to violate
the provisions of the treaty and the laws of military discipline by
attempts to plunder the helpless and the distressed who had been
compelled to yield to the inexorable results of war. The heads of these
mutineers, insensible alike to the claims of public faith and the
suggestions of humanity, were promptly struck off by the King himself,
whose evident intention to maintain inviolate the pledges he had given
produced a salutary effect on the turbulent and insubordinate spirits
of his command.

The houses and the estates abandoned by their former owners, who
preferred exile and penury to the risk of death or oppression,
were apportioned among such of the crusaders as had distinguished
themselves by the amount of their contributions, the importance of
their military service, or the number of the retainers who had followed
them to battle. Considerable difficulty was incurred in adjusting
the conflicting claims of those who, exaggerating the value of their
achievements and the generosity of their donations, demanded an undue
share of the reward. Three hundred and eighty knights and nobles were,
according to the judgment of the King, deemed worthy of investiture
with fiefs derived from the lands of the conquered territory, whose
tenures imposed upon each feudatory the obligation of guarding for
four months in every year a certain portion of the border. The clergy,
as was usually the case, secured by superior dexterity and by the
influence attaching to their sacred office the most valuable of the
lands affected by the public distribution.

Information of the surrender of the Moorish capital spread fast through
the dominions of the victorious monarch. Attracted by the richness of
the new conquest, the subjects of Jaime deserted their barren country
by thousands to fix their residence and improve their fortunes in a
land so favored by the bountiful hand of Nature. The void occasioned
by the departure of fifty thousand Moslems was speedily filled, so far
as the mere enumeration of individuals might supply a deficiency of
population. But intelligence, industry, enterprise, and taste were not
prominent characteristics of the Aragonese and Catalonian peasantry
who replaced the Moorish merchants and artificers of Valencia. These
were qualities which could not be provided by promiscuous immigration.
The new colonists presented a striking and unfavorable contrast to
the remaining inhabitants; the numbers of the latter were eventually
reduced by systematic persecution, and the decadence of Valencia dates
from the day of its subjection to Christian authority.

The internal affairs of his kingdom urgently demanding his attention,
Jaime was forced to leave the scene of his triumph before the political
organization of the new province was complete. During his absence,
his lieutenants persistently abused their delegated authority for
the sake of private emolument. The national obligations incurred by
the conclusion of: a truce had no significance in the eyes of these
professional marauders. The King had scarcely embarked, before a
predatory inroad convinced the Moors of the duplicity of a foe who
violated without compunction engagements which had been ratified
with every circumstance of deliberation and solemnity. The grievous
conditions of partisan warfare were renewed. The existence of a truce
was considered an advantage, as increasing opportunities for surprise.
Every individual who wore a Moorish dress was classed as an enemy
and treated accordingly. Fields were ravaged. Castles were taken and
sacked. The peasantry fled from their homes in terror. The country was
rapidly assuming the melancholy appearance of those regions of the
Peninsula which had been harassed for generations by the alternate
occupancy of hostile armies, when the arrival of the King arrested the
progress of destruction. Such property as could be found and identified
was restored to its owners. The frightened cultivators were invited to
resume their peaceful avocations. The noble, who, with his retainers,
had unceremoniously occupied the fortress of some Moslem prince, was
summarily deposed from his recent and illegally acquired dignity. By
every means in his power the King endeavored to make reparation for
the wrongs committed without his sanction by an undisciplined and
reckless soldiery. This conduct, dictated by sentiments of personal
honor and public equity, was, however, not destined to endure. The
long period designated by the truce was eminently unfavorable to the
designs of both clerical avarice and royal ambition. Episcopal piety
was grieved by the infidel possession of cities whose revenues would
sustain with ease the pecuniary burdens of an extensive bishopric.
The worthy prelate saw with horror and indignation the performance of
Moslem rites in sumptuous mosques protected by the unwonted indulgence
of a Christian prince, and longed for the day when the wealth of these
splendid establishments might be confiscated for the benefit of the
Church of Christ and the treasury of a corrupt and sensual priesthood.
With military success and expanding power the public opinion of the age
tended more and more to the disregard of treaties contracted with an
enemy who was daily becoming less capable of resistance. The constant
and universal excitation of theological odium contributed mainly to the
adoption of this false and pernicious principle of political ethics.
Secular ignorance came in time to sincerely believe the odious doctrine
defended by ingenious casuists and promulgated by ecclesiastical
hypocrisy and hatred from motives of personal interest. For its
acceptance and pursuit to an inevitable conclusion, the degradation of
Spain from the high position it occupied under the first sovereigns
of the Austrian dynasty is to be chiefly attributed. No people can
systematically repudiate its contracts, even with an adversary
incapable of resenting his injuries, without forfeiting the respect
and confidence of the other members of the great community of nations.
The diplomatic perfidy inaugurated by religious malice and royal
subserviency in the Moorish wars of the Peninsula was subsequently
repeated, on a larger scale, in the politics of Europe, and was
responsible for most of the incredible atrocities which accompanied the
conquest of Mexico, Central America, Peru. Already tacitly acknowledged
as a maxim of national policy in a country which subsequently
displayed its willingness to sacrifice the most obvious principles of
public faith and morality for the exaltation of ecclesiastical power
by the foundation of the Jesuit Order, the peremptory abrogation of a
treaty with the votaries of a hostile faith was considered, during the
epoch under consideration, rather a meritorious than a reprehensible
proceeding. Therefore the King of Aragon, after he had rebuked his
officious subordinates for their ill-timed energy and exhibited a
plausible zeal for redress by restoring their possessions to the
injured Moslems, felt no reluctance in committing the same offence
against honor and justice as soon as his own plans were matured. His
martial emulation had been excited by the exploits of Ferdinand of
Castile in the West, and he feared that that monarch might be tempted
to include in his ambitious projects the subjugation of the remaining
Eastern states of Moorish Spain, which he himself already regarded
as his own by the doubtful claims of geographical proximity and
anticipated conquest. With the insatiable avidity of the conqueror, he
preferred to violate his royal word rather than to be insulted by the
presence of a foe who still enjoyed possession of a region equal in
extent and advantages to any recently added to the dominions of Aragon,
and, what was even more important, who could not hope to offer any
serious opposition to his arms. The ever-available pretext of religious
expediency, or even duty, urged by able and pious advocates, was no
doubt efficacious in removing any conscientious scruples he might have
entertained.

The city of Xativa, situated on the frontier of the now diminished
Moorish domain and south of the Xucar, the boundary established
by the treaty, was the first place to experience the effects of
Spanish duplicity and the resistless impetus of Spanish power. Its
manufacturing interests had from time immemorial been among the most
extensive and profitable in the Peninsula. Under the Romans, its linen
products enjoyed a reputation for fineness and durability which spread
to the limits of the empire. During the Moslem occupation, it was the
centre of the paper industry in Spain. The adoption of cotton as a
material for the fabrication of this most useful article of commerce
is said to have been due to the practical genius of the artisans of
Xativa. At a time when the scribes of Christian Europe were reduced
to the necessity of erasing the works of classic authors to obtain
parchment for the preservation of pious homilies and monkish legends,
the mills of Xativa were producing great quantities of paper, much of
which, in texture and finish, will compare not unfavorably with that
obtained by the most improved processes of modern manufacture. The
demand for this product, indispensable among a people of intellectual
tastes like the Hispano-Arabs, was enormous. The factories of the
city supplied the imperial scriptoriums whence issued the voluminous
works that filled the vast libraries of the khalifs. The literary
necessities of a highly educated population, the multiplication of
manuscripts, the requirements of innumerable institutions of learning
had a tendency to constantly promote this industry, of which Xativa
was the principal distributing point in the empire, and of whose
profits it enjoyed a practical monopoly. In consequence of this
lucrative branch of traffic, the citizens in time amassed prodigious
fortunes, and many of them rivalled, in the splendor of their domestic
establishments and their equipages, the magnificent displays of
royalty. But this was far from being the only source of the opulence
of Xativa. The same genial climate, the same wonderfully productive
soil belonged to the district surrounding that city which had made
the principality of Valencia a model of agricultural perfection. In
the thirteenth century it presented to the casual observer the same
charming aspect it had exhibited under the khalifate. Aside from
occasional temporary occupation by freebooters, it had almost entirely
escaped the destructive effects of internal discord and foreign
invasion. Its inhabitants retained to a large extent their possessions,
impaired somewhat by the casualties incident to national misfortune
and by the resultant diminution of the manufacture which had been the
principal source of their prosperity. But the abounding harvests,
the interminable orchards, the vast plantations of cane and cotton
still attested the flourishing and happy condition of an industrious
people. The knowledge of these manifold advantages and the overpowering
incentive of military glory more than counterbalanced, in the mind of
the King of Aragon, the moral obligations he had incurred. Without a
formal declaration of war, without any intimation of broken faith or
meditated hostility, a numerous Christian army, commanded by Jaime in
person, pitched its tents before Xativa. Under ordinary circumstances
that city was not incapable of an obstinate defence. Its fortifications
were strong and in good repair. Its immense castle, which is still
its most conspicuous feature, was second in extent and massiveness
only to the famous citadel of Almeria. The population was numerous,
the facilities for obtaining subsistence excellent. In imitation of
many of the Moslem communities of Spain which royal incompetency and
national indifference had abandoned to their fate, the inhabitants
of Xativa had erected their city into an independent principality,
whose laws and institutions were modelled after those of a republic.
This political anomaly had not yet secured even the confidence of its
originators. The experimental stage of government had not been passed.
The radical deviation from principles always recognized as essential
elements of a constitution which had endured from time immemorial
and on which the entire Moslem polity was based was not regarded with
favor by a large and powerful faction, in which were included many of
the most wealthy and influential citizens. This want of harmony was
fatal to the liberties of Xativa. It was found impossible to secure the
co-operation of parties which mutually distrusted each other, and the
sudden appearance of an enemy increased the uncertainty and danger of
the situation. It was not improbable that the enterprise of Jaime had
been undertaken with a previous knowledge of the political conditions
prevailing in the last great city of Oriental Spain which remained in
the hands of the Moslems. Apprehensive of the result of a siege which
must terminate disastrously, the magistrates of Xativa hastened to
propose a compromise. An agreement was concluded by which the place was
not to be surrendered to any sovereign but the King of Aragon. A number
of castles and a considerable extent of territory which acknowledged
the jurisdiction of the city were given up as the price of a temporary
respite; other unprotected places distracted by revolution and without
hope of relief sought the dangerous protection of a Christian suzerain;
and the greater part of the region south of the Xucar was incorporated
into the Aragonese monarchy, which received this important addition to
its realms with no other exertion than that required by the commission
of a deliberate act of perfidy.

Family troubles and the civil dissensions which distracted the kingdom
of Jaime deferred for three years any further molestation of the
Moslems of Xativa. Profiting by their dearly purchased experience,
they utilized every moment of that interval in preparing for the
approaching conflict. Foreign engineers were employed to direct the
efforts of the native laborers. The castle, already one of the best
fortified in Europe, was still further strengthened. The walls of the
city were increased in height and protected by additional buttresses
and barbicans. An efficient militia was organized, and the citizens,
whose enervating climate made them reluctant to undergo the duties
of military service, were thoroughly instructed in the use of arms.
Magazines sufficient to contain supplies for an extended siege were
erected and filled. These preparations, which indicated the determined
spirit of the Xativans, were productive of important results when
the Aragonese again invested the city. The King, whose force was
wholly inadequate to the reduction of the most formidable fortress
in the Peninsula, was repulsed; but the capture of Alcira and Denia,
after an obstinate resistance, in a measure indemnified him for the
disappointment he was compelled to endure before Xativa.

In the mean time Ferdinand had subjected to the crown of Castile the
remaining Moorish cities of Andalusia, and his occupation of Murcia
seemed to indicate an intention to encroach upon those provinces of
the East which the King of Aragon, in the formation of great plans
of conquest, already regarded as his own. The latter learned with
apprehension of the progress and the increasing reputation of his
enterprising and successful contemporary. Like the aspiring young
Greek general, the trophies of his rival would not suffer him to
sleep. The prospect of additional power and glory to be acquired by a
monarch whose exploits had already eclipsed the distinction in arms
he himself enjoyed and had won the applause of Christendom, was not
flattering to his vanity and ambition. He collected an imposing army,
and bound himself by a solemn oath never to slacken his efforts until
Xativa should be taken. Once more the siege of the Moorish stronghold
was begun. The defence was conducted with signal ability and courage;
but the garrison, well aware that no hope of assistance could be
entertained, was induced to propose terms of accommodation before the
city was reduced to extremity. Such was the impregnable character of
the place that remarkably favorable conditions were obtained by the
besieged. The nature of these conditions may well excite surprise.
The Christians seem to have gained nothing in reality but a nominal
occupation of those quarters of the town which, in case of renewed
hostilities, were not susceptible of effective defence. The great
citadel, which dominated not only Xativa but also the surrounding
country, remained in possession of the Moors. At the expiration of two
years it was to be evacuated, and two other castles were to be given
in exchange for its peaceable transfer to the Aragonese. The Moslems
were guaranteed protection of person and property as well as permitted
the practice of their religion and the operation of their laws. Such
equitable treatment of an infidel foe had been long unknown to the
savage code of the princes who directed the Reconquest. Never since the
Christian power attained to prominence had concessions equally generous
been granted to the vanquished Saracen. It would appear, however,
that this leniency was really only a pretext to gain by treachery
what was unattainable by force. For a time the treaty was respected.
The murmurs of the soldiery, defrauded of their expected prey, were
silenced by ample donatives from the royal treasury. The inhabitants,
deluded by a show of impartiality and moderation, pursued in peace
their ordinary employments. But this condition was only temporary.
The grasping ambition of Jaime was not to be satisfied with the mere
shadow of possession and authority. Considerations of moral obligation
were unceremoniously swept aside by the royal casuist the moment
they conflicted with the imperious demands of political necessity.
Excuses were invented and opportunities found to accuse the Moors
of infraction of the treaty. The enmity of the conquerors was, in
accordance with the baser and more mercenary instincts of humanity,
first directed against the rich. Opulent merchants were condemned,
without accusation or trial, to exile and beggary. Their property,
the chief cause of their persecution, was confiscated by the crown or
divided among the clergy and the nobles, who received with complacent
gratification the rewards of national perfidy and dishonor. Possession
of the citadel was secured by stratagem; the castles for which it was
to have been exchanged were retained by the Christians, and numbers
of Moorish maidens became, in spite of the faith of conventions and
in defiance of the canons of the Church, unwilling ministers of the
pleasures of the orthodox but voluptuous conqueror. The melancholy end
of the governor of Xativa, Yahya-Ibn-Ahmed, will arouse the compassion
of every reader who sympathizes with the misfortunes which ill-directed
resolution and bravery are liable to encounter in every age. He was
a personage of the highest consideration among his countrymen. His
talents and his integrity had elevated him to the first position in
the state. His wealth enabled him to sustain with dignity the civil
and military honors conferred upon him by an appreciative and admiring
people. In the defence of the city he had more than justified the
exalted opinion universally entertained of his capacity. The treaty
he negotiated with an enemy of vastly superior resources and elated
by recent conquests was the most advantageous to the weaker party of
any recorded in the annals of the Peninsula. He scrupulously observed
every condition of that agreement which his adversaries repudiated at
their convenience without shame and without excuse. With the other
wealthy citizens of Xativa he was driven from his home; his estates
were appropriated by the rapacious foreigner; he was forced to subsist
by the charity of strangers in a land where he had formerly displayed
the ensigns and exercised the prerogatives of royalty; and, while his
fate remains in doubt, his death was popularly believed to have been
hastened by poison or starvation.

The subjection of Xativa by the King of Aragon caused a rupture between
the two greatest soldiers of Western Europe which, had it developed
into open hostility, would have seriously imperilled the cause of
Christianity in the Peninsula. It was not without reason that Jaime
had apprehended the dangerous effects of Castilian ambition. The
tendency of conquest must hereafter inevitably be to the eastward.
Andalusia, forever lost to the Moslem, was now an integral part of
the dominions of Ferdinand. It was well known that the aspirations of
that conqueror had not been satisfied by the acquisition of the most
valuable portion of the Saracen empire. His intention to dispute the
doubtful claim of Aragon to the coveted region lying east of Granada
had already been disclosed by his occupation of Murcia. It was not
merely by arms that the astute King of Castile endeavored to extend, at
the expense of his rival, his already formidable power. The political
interests of the two monarchs had recently been nominally united by the
marriage of Alfonso, the heir to the Castilian throne, and Yolande, the
daughter of Jaime. Instigated by his father, that prince endeavored to
induce the Moslem governor to surrender to him the city of Xativa, in
contravention of the treaty negotiated with the King of Aragon. This
scheme was frustrated by the vigilance of Jaime, and the expulsion of
the principal citizens, some of whom were suspected of complicity in
the designs of Ferdinand, was determined upon in consequence of the
discovery.

Foiled in this attempt, Ferdinand then demanded the place as the
dowry of his daughter-in-law. But the King of Aragon, whose pride was
not inferior to that of Ferdinand, was unwilling to relinquish to
the importunity of a rival the substantial fruits of his courage and
energy, and it required all the address and the blandishments of his
queen to reconcile the conflicting pretensions of her husband and her
kinsman. The ancient boundary of Murcia and Valencia was eventually
re-established as the frontier of the two Christian monarchies. The
designs of Jaime were hereafter prosecuted to a successful termination
without hinderance from the intriguing policy of Castile, and in a
few years all the other fortresses held by the Moslems in the East of
the Peninsula were incorporated, either by conquest or negotiation,
into the realms of the kingdom of Aragon. The remaining years of Jaime
were passed amidst the distracting turmoil of family disputes and
feudal encroachments. An ill-advised expedition to the Holy Land, in
which the crusading fleet was dispersed by a tempest and which ended
ignominiously, for a time engaged his attention. On the seventh of
July, 1276, he died at Valencia, the scene of his greatest triumph.

This famous king was one of the most extraordinary personages of
mediæval history. The romance which colored his entire career antedated
his very existence. The son of Pedro II. and Marie, Countess of
Montpellier, whose marriage had never before been consummated and
was immediately afterwards practically annulled, he owed his origin
to an artifice, not infrequently met with in the merry tales of the
Middle Ages, but in this instance exhibiting a singular mixture of the
humorous and the pathetic. Even his name he owed to chance. His mother
lighted twelve candles, to represent the twelve apostles, and that of
St. James having burned longer than the others, her son was christened
for that worthy as his patron saint. While yet a little child, he
was intrusted to Simon de Montfort, crusader, soldier of fortune, and
persecutor of the Albigenses, to be educated. That freebooter, the
most eminent in his infamous calling of any of the military outlaws of
his time and who subsequently defeated and killed the father of his
charge on the field of Muret, caused the boy to be betrothed to his own
daughter before he had attained the age of four years. It afterwards
required all the influence of the Pope, moved by the entreaties of the
Spanish clergy, to rescue the royal infant from the hands of Simon and
place him upon the throne of Aragon.

Held in the arms of the Bishop of Tarragona, he repeated mechanically
and without comprehension the customary oath to maintain and execute
the laws of the realm. From the very beginning his abilities, child as
he was, were exercised with tact and discretion in the treatment of
his uncles, who attempted to govern in his name, and of the nobles,
who obstinately disputed his authority. It was not long before his
genius asserted itself and commanded the respect and obedience of his
unruly vassals. Personal advantages, which have so much influence with
the majority of mankind, bore no small share in effecting this result.
Nature had lavished upon him her most precious gifts. His stature
greatly exceeded that of other men. His features were handsome; his
form exhibited the proportions and the muscles of a Roman gladiator.
His manners were singularly winning; his demeanor conspicuous for its
graces among a people renowned for their courtesy. While fearless in
the presence of danger, such was his compassion that he shrank from the
signature of a death-warrant, and more than once a criminal escaped the
consequences of his misdeeds through the gentleness and humanity of his
king.

No prince in Spanish history occupies a more exalted position for
manly qualities, dauntless valor, and lavish generosity. His reign
of sixty-three years is the longest, if not the most eventful, in the
annals of the Peninsula. It was practically one uninterrupted campaign.
This great king won thirty pitched battles over the Moslems. He was the
exemplar of the prevalent crusading passion of the time. His popularity
with the clergy surpassed that of any of his royal contemporaries. He
founded and endowed at his own expense two thousand churches in the
territory conquered from the Moors. He knew the Scriptures by heart,
and during every grand religious festival he preached from the pulpit
to vast congregations with all the unction and probably with more
than the eloquence of an ecclesiastical orator. His memoirs, written
under the title of a chronicle, disclose a profound knowledge of human
nature, acute observation, and a remarkable degree of literary culture,
considering the advantages he enjoyed and the circumstances under which
his life was passed. Powerful even in death, the provision of his will
excluding females from the succession has always been sacredly observed
as an inviolable part of the constitution of the kingdom of Aragon.

The reverse of the medal is not so attractive. The famous Aragonese
crusader was bigoted, perfidious, licentious, cruel. He introduced the
Inquisition into Spain. Its agents, the Dominicans, were his favorite
counsellors. While treating for the surrender of Elche, in the presence
of his courtiers he slipped a purse of three hundred byzants into
the sleeve of one of the Moorish envoys, who he had ascertained was
willing to betray his countrymen for gold. He violated his royal word
to Doña Teresa de Vidaure, whom he had promised to make his queen,
and was supported in his infamous resolve by the Pope. He habitually
repudiated the most solemn contracts entered into with his Moslem
vassals and adversaries. His libertinism was conspicuous even in an
age of universal social depravity. He lived with two wives at once. He
entertained numerous concubines. He was said to have had a mistress
for every church that he founded. He caused the tongue of the Bishop
of Gerona, his spiritual adviser, to be torn out as a punishment for
having betrayed certain unsavory secrets learned in the sacred privacy
of the confessional. Amidst the frightful spectacles afforded by cities
carried by assault, the pitiless hand of the ferocious soldiery was
rarely stayed by the authority of the champion of the Christian cause,
in whose eyes every infidel was legitimate prey.

The scene of action in the exhibition of the romantic drama of the
Reconquest now shifts to Andalusia. It was in that province, enriched
with every gift of nature, improved by every resource of industry and
art, that Moorish civilization first had its origin; and it was there
that, after centuries of glory, it was destined to a melancholy and
disastrous end.

The monarchy of Castile, the foundation of whose future greatness had
been already laid by the important military successes which preceded
and followed the capture of the ancient metropolis of the khalifate,
was now to be adorned with yet more decisive and brilliant triumphs.
With the death of Mohammed-Ibn-Hud the integrity of the Emirate of
Murcia was destroyed. The alcalde of each city, the governor of each
province, forthwith aspired to independence. The absurd claims and
irreconcilable quarrels of these petty rulers, none of whom were worthy
of the title of prince, but the majority of whom claimed the dignity
of khalif, advanced unconsciously, but none the less expeditiously,
the projects of the Christian enemy. The dismemberment of Murcia had
been the result of the intrigues of Mohammed, King of Granada, the
founder of the famous line of the Alhamares, who was now recognized
by all patriotic Moslems as the representative of their power and
their religion in the Peninsula. The assassination of the daring
Ibn-Hud had been injurious rather than beneficial to the national
cause. None of the score of pretenders who had divided among themselves
the principality of Murcia were willing to do homage to the King of
Granada, whose title to sovereignty was, in fact, no better than
their own; and Mohammed, whose attention was fully occupied by the
movements of the Christians, was not at liberty to enforce compliance
with his demands by the potent agency of the sword. After a series of
indecisive operations, in which the Christians, although they succeeded
in penetrating as far as the Vega of Granada, seem to have been worsted
in almost every encounter, Ferdinand turned his attention to the
more promising field presented by the divided and helpless Emirate
of Murcia. An army under the command of Prince Alfonso had already
reached the borders of that kingdom when hostilities were suspended
by overtures for peace. The reputation of the Castilian monarch,
while stained with many well-founded accusations of violated honor
and broken faith, was so far superior to that of his contemporaries
that the Moslems did not hesitate, even with the full knowledge of the
ecclesiastical influences to which he was blindly subject, to intrust
to him the custody of their persons and the disposal of their fortunes.
Other reasons impelled them to this wise determination. Combined, the
states of Murcia could never have successfully withstood the power of
the Castilian monarchy; disunited, their resistance was absolutely
hopeless. The dreadful fate of Moorish cities which had attempted
to retard the advance of Christian conquest was always present to
the effeminate population of Murcia. Ultimate subjection to either
Ferdinand or Jaime was inevitable. The inhumanity of the Castilian
had heretofore been far less conspicuous in instances of voluntary
submission than that displayed by the cruel and perfidious Aragonese,
whose armies were largely composed of foreigners, and whose ideas of
equity were habitually subordinated to considerations of present gain
or future advantage. With these facts before them, the Moslems of
Murcia did not long hesitate in making a choice of masters. The cities
of the emirate with the exception of Lorca voluntarily submitted to the
ascendency of Castile, and the ceremonies incident to the establishment
of royal supremacy were performed. The feudal obligations which
preceded the institution of suzerainty and vassalage were then publicly
acknowledged, and the credulous Moors welcomed the tyranny of a foreign
prince with acclamations such as they would scarcely have vouchsafed to
a ruler of their own blood and their own religion.

The respite afforded by the prestige of his victories and by
the diversion of the arms of Castile to Murcia was employed by
Mohammed-Ibn-Ahmar in the improvement of his kingdom and the
embellishment of his capital. The encroachments and the conquests
of the Spaniards had driven into exile thousands of Moslems, to
whom the society of their countrymen and the unmolested exercise of
their worship were privileges not to be sacrificed to the uncertain
security of Christian domination. Within the space of a few years,
as a result of constant immigration, the population of Granada had
increased with tremendous rapidity. The most experienced cultivators,
the most finished artisans, the most learned scholars who represented
the declining age of Saracen genius, found a refuge from persecution
and insult in the dominions of a prince not unworthy to be compared
with the most distinguished sovereigns who had ever dignified the
Hispano-Arab throne. Their accumulated experience and industry
had enriched beyond measure the country of their adoption. Nor was
that country in the charms of climate, soil, and scenery unworthy
of the labors of the most energetic and accomplished of colonists.
Its surface, diversified by valley, plain, and mountain, afforded
the combined advantages elsewhere enjoyed only by a succession of
regions in widely distant quarters of the globe. A few hundred feet
of elevation or descent determined the character of the vegetation,
and valuable plants, ordinarily separated by many degrees of latitude,
here grew luxuriantly almost side by side. Streams fed by melting
snows rushed down the mountain slope, diffusing their refreshing
moisture through the teeming harvests of the Vega. This district--as
the plain enclosed by the Sierra Nevada and the Alpujarras became
subsequently designated--was unsurpassed in the fertility of its soil
and the number and superior quality of its agricultural products. So
dense was its population, that its contiguous and endless hamlets and
plantations gave it the appearance of a single interminable village.
Although including an area of not more than seven hundred and fifty
square miles, it supplied with ease under Moslem care and economy
the wants and luxuries of a hundred thousand souls. At its northern
extremity, on the gentle slope of the Sierra, stood the capital, which
had begun to assume the architectural splendor which distinguished the
dynasty of its builders, the crumbling ruins of whose edifices are
still the models of the architect and the admiration of the traveller.
The vast circuit of the Alhambra, with the ancient fortress which,
from a period far anterior to the foundation of the khalifate, had
commanded the city with its innumerable towers, barbicans, outworks,
had already been enclosed. Facing the citadel, on the most elevated
point of an eminence which barbarian sagacity had, even before the date
of Phœnician occupation, chosen as a place of refuge and security, a
magnificent palace, the exemplar of a new and indescribably gorgeous
style of architecture, had arisen. Its arcades and halls and courts
did not as yet exhibit the extent of area, the exquisite taste, the
profusion of ornament which subsequently distinguished the most
elaborate and beautiful edifice of Mohammedan Spain. In that portion,
however, which had issued from the hands of the builders the germ
of its future elegance was plainly discernible. The most skilful
workmen in the Peninsula--still the European centre of architectural
superiority--had been employed in its construction and embellishment
as well as in the design and completion of many less sumptuous and
imposing, but still not less remarkable, structures of the capital. A
constant influx of dextrous and ingenious colonists from the provinces
harassed by Christian cruelty and intolerance had developed, to a
degree which could scarcely have been anticipated by the most sanguine
political economist, the inexhaustible mineral, agricultural, and
commercial resources of the kingdom. As a legitimate consequence of
this extraordinary impulse received by every department of trade and
husbandry, the revenues of the state were prodigiously increased.
With the means and the opportunity of enjoyment came a growing demand
for every article of luxury. Through the ports of Almeria and Malaga
a maritime trade was maintained with distant countries which greatly
enriched the merchants of Granada. The capital was adorned with superb
buildings dedicated to the noble purposes of public instruction and
religious worship. A portion of the intellectual ambition and literary
culture which had exalted the Ommeyade metropolis to such well-merited
pre-eminence seemed to have been inherited by Granada. Her institutions
of learning were superior to all others of contemporaneous Europe.
The works of her historians, travellers, and scholars survive as the
masterpieces of the age in which they were composed. It is to the
genius of Mohammed I. that the origin of her prosperity and influence
must be attributed. The Moslem immigrant, deluded by a false and
momentary security, believed that he had, after many wanderings, at
last discovered a permanent abode. But the sagacious mind of Mohammed
was deceived by no such pleasing anticipations. He recognized the
full significance of Christian encroachment, and the eventual result
of a conflict already prolonged for more than six hundred years, and
whose termination could not long be deferred. In conjunction with his
military talents he brought to bear all the resources of political
craft and far-sighted diplomacy. He purchased the influence of powerful
nobles and ecclesiastics at the court of Castile. He maintained the
closest and most amicable relations with the sultans and sheiks of
Northern Africa, whose inextinguishable hostility to the Almohade
dynasty made them the faithful and enthusiastic allies of a prince
who represented a faction devoted to its extermination. The important
consequences of these wise and able measures subsequently became
apparent in the hour of Christian success and Moslem extremity.

The rise of the monarchy of Granada in opulence and strength was
coincident with, and, indeed, partly resultant from, the decline of
Moorish power in the remaining states of the Peninsula. Sancho II.,
King of Portugal, was gradually adding to his possessions the isolated
and feeble remnants of what had formerly constituted one of the most
important principalities of the khalifate. In the prosecution of
conquest, Jaime had invaded the region south of the Xucar, which had
just before been declared inviolate by the provisions of a deliberately
executed treaty. With the single exception of Jaen, the whole of
Northern Andalusia had been incorporated into the monarchy of Castile.
After the submission of Murcia, Ferdinand, impatient of inaction,
prepared for another campaign. He penetrated into the Vega of Granada,
desolated its plantations, and, returning through the valley of the
Genil, where his destructive march was but too clearly indicated by
the blackened remains of crops and dwellings, encamped before Jaen.
The governor of that city, Ibn-Omar, an officer of indomitable courage
and inexhaustible fertility of resource, showed himself eminently
worthy of the trust reposed in him. The advanced position of Jaen
gave it unusual value in a military point of view. It was the extreme
outpost of the Moslem possessions towards the north. Its loss implied
the certain fall of Seville as well as the subjection of the remaining
territory of Andalusia, and would afford an unobstructed course to an
enemy who desired to invade Granada. The city was only fifty miles
from the capital of that kingdom. These facts made its retention in
Moorish hands a strategical necessity. Its strength and the bravery of
its citizens were such that hitherto every effort to take it had been
futile. Anticipating the object of Ferdinand, the King of Granada had
sent a large convoy with provisions and arms for the garrison, which
was delayed and narrowly escaped capture. Then he attempted at the head
of a numerous but undisciplined army to raise the siege. The Moorish
peasantry, ill-fitted to cope with veterans skilled from boyhood in
the profession of arms, were easily routed, and the situation of the
besieged grew desperate. It was evident that the city was doomed, and
its occupation by the Christians must, in the present defenceless
condition of the Moslems, be the melancholy precursor of a long series
of misfortunes, of religious persecution, poverty, slavery, and
exile. Then it was that Mohammed determined upon a course which his
shrewdness convinced him was the only expedient through whose means the
integrity of his kingdom and the preservation of his people could be
secured. He appeared voluntarily in the camp of the Castilian king and
announced his willingness to render him homage. The penetration of the
astute Moslem had not miscalculated the effect of this extraordinary
resolve upon the mind of his generous rival. The surprise and
gratification of Ferdinand at the proposal inclined his disposition,
ever averse to acts of deliberate cruelty and injustice, to a display
of unusual magnanimity. He accepted with unconcealed pleasure the offer
of Mohammed; the mutual obligations of lord and vassal were assumed,
and the sovereign of Granada agreed to attend, when summoned, the
national assembly of the Cortes, to furnish a stated number of soldiers
in case of war,--even against the votaries of his own religion,--and to
pay each year into the treasury of Castile a tribute of fifty thousand
maravedis of gold. The duty of protection incumbent on the suzerain,
according to the laws of feudalism, was solemnly acknowledged by
Ferdinand, and the surrender of Jaen, as an assurance of good faith,
was the significant preliminary of a temporary but advantageous peace.
The impolitic liberality of their monarch in granting such favorable
concessions to an enemy reduced to despair has been, perhaps not with
injustice, severely criticised by Spanish historians and churchmen.
In this instance, at all events, the royal saint was not guided by
celestial inspiration, and the adoption of a treaty inimical to the
interests of his country prolonged the existence of Islamism in the
Peninsula for a period of two hundred and fifty years.

The success which had attended the movements of the King of Castile
in the recent campaign incited him to further and even more strenuous
efforts. Seville, the greatest city of Moslem Spain, the centre of a
region of prodigious fertility, the seat of a most lucrative maritime
and internal trade, a city whose wealth and manifold attractions
could hardly be exaggerated by either the pride of the Moor or the
cupidity of the Spaniard, was still in the hands of the infidel. At
that time its population, increased by thousands of refugees and
exiles, was larger than at any previous period of its history. The
productiveness of the soil and the patient industry of the cultivator
had repaired the effects of foreign depredation and domestic violence.
Its environs, remote from the seat of war, had not suffered from
repeated and systematic devastation such as had afflicted the suburbs
of Cordova. From the summit of the Giralda, for a distance of fifty
miles on every side, could be seen a continuous mass of verdure dotted
with farm-houses and villas, interspersed with olive plantations,
vineyards, and orange groves, and intersected by the silver threads
of countless canals and rivulets. Occasionally the ruins of a hamlet
or the brushwood which covered the surface of a once flourishing
district proclaimed the former presence of an enemy, but in general
the appearance of the surrounding country did not differ materially
from that which it had worn in the most thriving days of the Moslem
domination. The quays of the city were crowded with shipping from
every port of the Mediterranean. The streets swarmed with people.
The markets, provided alike with the most common articles of daily
consumption and the most expensive luxuries, afforded unmistakable
evidences of general prosperity, and the imposing and splendid edifices
dedicated to public utility, private ostentation, and religious worship
disclosed the extraordinary development of architectural taste and the
substantial results of princely munificence. In its external aspect,
therefore, Seville still exhibited an apparent, if deceptive, image of
imperial greatness. Her power, however, as was perfectly realized by
her citizens, rested upon an insecure and crumbling foundation. Many
of those citizens had once been residents of flourishish communities
which the fortunes of war had delivered to the merciless Christian.
Their mosques had been profaned. Their household gods had been
scattered. Their children were in the harems of the licentious noble
or ecclesiastic. They, more than all others, understood the deplorable
results of conquest, and the persevering, the indomitable, the
resistless spirit which inspired the measures and guided the movements
of the Christian armies. The fears which had for so long agitated the
inhabitants of Seville were now about to be realized. In a political
as well as in a geographical sense the city and its dependencies were
completely isolated. At the south was the Mediterranean; in all other
directions the Castilian power encroached upon the limits of Sevillian
territory; the sole monarch of kindred blood and a common faith was a
vassal of the enemy. Other causes conspired to render the separation
more complete. Berber influence, extinct elsewhere in Spain and fast
vanishing in its original seat across the sea, still maintained a
precarious but decided foothold in the centre of Andalusia. The Emir
of Seville, Abu-Abdallah, was a prince of the Almohade dynasty. The
unpopularity of that abhorred race had by no means declined with its
capacity to effect either substantial benefit or serious injury. In the
breast of the Arab partisan all other animosities were reconciled when
confronted with the universal execration which attached to the names
and the character of Almohade and African. Two centuries and a half had
passed since the distrust and the partiality of Al-Mansur had elevated
to posts of pre-eminent dignity and power individuals of a race that
Arab pride disdained as inferior, and whose influence subsequent
experience had conclusively proved to be inconceivably destructive
to art, learning, and every instinct of civilization. Since that
fatal day the supremacy of Islam in the West had steadily declined.
Results of the inherent evils of a defective political system, and of
the refractory character of a mixed population whose elements were
incapable of thorough and permanent fusion, were commonly attributed
to the sinister influence with which tribal prejudice and hereditary
malevolence invested every act of an aggressive and finally dominant
faction.

The surrender of Jaen and the unexpected submission of the King of
Granada imparted extraordinary power and distinction to the cause of
Ferdinand. His arms were regarded as invincible alike by his Moorish
enemies and by his admiring subjects and allies. The inhabitants of
Seville heard with consternation of the removal of the last bulwark
which guarded the frontier and of the defection of the last Moslem
prince who, despite the persistence of ancient prejudices and the
memory of recent wrongs, it had been fondly hoped might still have
made common cause with the adherents of the same religious belief
against the enemies of Islam. The activity of the conqueror afforded
them but little time for defensive measures. The great vassals of the
kingdom were summoned to the camp at Cordova, the starting-point of
the campaign. Among them was Mohammed, whose fealty to his suzerain
was attested by a retinue of five hundred picked and splendidly
mounted horsemen. Orders were sent to Biscay to equip and despatch a
fleet to blockade the mouth of the Guadalquivir and to intercept all
communication with Africa. The environs of Carmona were wasted with
fire and sword. Alcalá de Guadair was taken and presented to the King
of Granada as a token of esteem and confidence from his feudal lord.
As the main body of the army was about to move, Ferdinand received
intelligence of the death of his mother, Queen Berenguela, who at the
advanced age of seventy-six years was, as the regent of the kingdom
and the counsellor of her son, not unequal to the assumption of the
cares and responsibilities of a great and turbulent empire. In the mind
of the stoical and ambitious sovereign of Castile, the misfortune of
domestic bereavement was unhesitatingly subordinated to the important
interests of country and religion. The campaign was inaugurated
without delay. The ruthless policy of an age which made war with a
barbarity at present happily extinct demanded the absolute destruction
of everything which could afford either shelter or subsistence to a
foe. The Castilians, acting upon this principle, soon transformed the
beautiful plain of Seville into a prospect of appalling desolation.
The houses were burned. The harvests were trampled into the earth.
The vineyards were destroyed. The orchards, the orange-groves, the
almond and pomegranate plantations were cut down and set on fire.
For leagues in every direction the view was obscured by dense clouds
of smoke rising from half-consumed trees and burning villages.
The city itself was enveloped in darkness which at times made the
streets impassable and exceeded the gloom of a starless night. This
exhibition of severity was not lost upon the inhabitants of the more
defenceless towns of Andalusia. Carmona, Loja, Alcolea hastened to
make terms with the invader. Others, among which was the fortress of
Cantillana, held out till the last, and received a terrible lesson for
their obstinacy. All places which offered resistance were stormed,
delivered up to pillage, and every living being within their walls
was massacred without mercy. The capitulation of other cities and the
utter devastation of the country deprived the people of Seville of the
prospect of reinforcements and the means of obtaining supplies. The
produce of the crops, swept away by the Castilian cavalry, had been
their dependence for replenishing the failing magazines of the capital,
and upon the resistance of the outlying fortresses had rested the
hope of securing time to reap the harvests. The only resource of the
Almohade prince was now with his kinsmen beyond the Strait. His appeal
for help was answered by the donation of a fleet of twenty galleys,
which attempted to arrest the progress of the Christian squadron about
to ascend the Guadalquivir. A naval battle was fought; the Moors,
notwithstanding their superior numbers and their long experience in
this kind of encounters, were defeated, and the Castilians, proceeding
up the river without molestation, cast anchor in front of the city.
The arrival of the squadron was the signal for energetic operations.
The army, which had heretofore confined its efforts to the persecution
of a defenceless peasantry, was brought within the restraints of
discipline. The established policy of the Christian sovereigns, who,
in the conduct of important enterprises, endeavored to impress upon
the besieged the hopelessness of protracted resistance, was again
observed. Substantial buildings were erected for the shelter of the
soldiery. The avenues were lined with shops which, divided according
to the various trades, suggested the occupations and the traffic of a
considerable city. The families of the troops took up their residence
within the intrenchments. Severe police regulations were established.
Fortifications, whose materials and general plan were sufficiently
solid and durable for the protection of a populous town rather than
for the defence of a temporary encampment, rose before the eyes of the
disheartened Moslems. A. strict blockade was maintained; the predatory
excursions of the Christians were extended beyond the limits of the
already ravaged territory, and the surviving provincials forced to
take advantage of the impregnable security of mountain strongholds.
The difficulties attending the prosecution of the enterprise in which
he had embarked soon impressed themselves upon the Castilian King.
Seville at that time was one of the best fortified cities in Europe.
It was also one of the most populous, as it contained eighty thousand
families, divided into twenty-four tribes according to the ancient
Arabic system; and, as those families were polygamous, the number of
its inhabitants could hardly have been less than five hundred thousand.
Long exposed to the hazards of revolution and conquest, it had been
strengthened by every dynasty by which it had been governed. A double
line of walls, protected by a moat, encircled it. Its outworks were of
unusual solidity, among these the Tower of Gold, which still exists
in excellent preservation and indicates the massive construction of
these defences, guarded the approach from the river. The present
condition of the fortifications, some of which were contemporaneous
with the Cæsars, suggests the ease with which an enemy provided only
with the comparatively imperfect appliances of mediæval engineering
could have been repelled. Its greatest weakness was to be found in
the multitude of refugees who, driven from the open country, thronged
its habitations, inviting, by the reckless disregard of sanitary
precautions and by an increased consumption of provisions, the
insidious approaches of disease and famine.

The employment of the influence of the Holy See in the wars of
Valencia offered a precedent too valuable to be neglected in the
present emergency. The tremendously effective intervention of the
Papacy was again solicited to arouse the latent enthusiasm of Europe.
From every corner of Spain, from every land subject to the spiritual
jurisdiction of Rome, volunteers marched to join the legions of
Christendom before the gates of Seville. Unlike former crusades,
which had assumed a more or less partisan character and whose summons
had been generally unheeded save by those directly interested in the
result, representatives of all the states enclosed by the Pyrenees,
the Mediterranean, and the ocean hastened to participate in the
perils and to share the glory of a campaign destined to remove from
Southern Andalusia the most serious impediment to Christian supremacy
and the most formidable adversary of Spanish power. The princes of
Castile, Aragon, Portugal, appeared escorted by the chivalry of their
several kingdoms. From the pulpits of a thousand cathedrals and
churches resounded the stirring call to arms. Frantic appeals to the
fanaticism of the masses were made alike by famous prelates in great
ecclesiastical assemblies and by itinerant friars at the wayside cross.
Bishops cast aside the habiliments of the altar for the panoply of war.
The metropolitan of Santiago, followed by a body of Galician peasantry,
came to contribute, by his ghostly counsels and the inspiration of
the patron saint of Spain, to the final overthrow of the accursed
infidel. A motley assemblage of foreigners, of unsavory antecedents and
mercenary character, added to the numbers, if not the efficiency, of
the Christian host.

The siege of Seville, which lasted for seventeen months, proved to be
the most arduous and obstinately contested struggle in the history of
the Reconquest. The city, with a river easily accessible to an enemy
on one side and the others surrounded by a vast and level plain, was
necessarily compelled to rely for its defensive capacity and advantages
mainly upon the art and ingenuity of man. Across the Guadalquivir was
the suburb now known as Triana, whose fortifications, not inferior
in strength to those of the capital itself, were manned by a brave
and determined garrison. A bridge of boats moored with heavy chains
connected the city and the suburb. The communication of these two
points was a source of constant annoyance to the Castilians, and
the investment had hardly been completed when the King of Granada
volunteered to undertake the destruction of the bridge. A fleet of
fire-rafts was prepared, but it drifted ashore before reaching its
destination. The purpose of the besiegers was subsequently accomplished
by means of boats laden with stone, whose weight, aided by the force
of the current, shattered the bridge and drove its swinging fragments
upon opposite banks of the river. The isolation of Triana failed to
compel its surrender, which was one of the principal objects of the
attack. Upon the broken bridge the frequent sallies of the garrison
still carried death and terror into the Christian ranks. No nation of
that period had a more thorough acquaintance with the art of defensive
warfare than the Spanish Moslems. The sudden sally, the skirmish, the
night attack were not more congenial to their nature than was their
ability to detect, and their skill to foil, the well-matured designs
of an enemy. The ramparts of Seville and Triana were equipped with
the most formidable engines known to the military science of the
age. The Saracen catapults projected for immense distances and with
crushing power masses of stone and iron weighing more than a thousand
pounds. Their balistas cast a hundred arrows at once, and the force
of these missiles was so tremendous that they transfixed with ease
a horse completely sheathed in steel. The secret of the composition
of Greek fire the Moors had long before learned from the soldiers of
Constantinople, and this dangerous agent of destruction had in their
hands reached an even higher degree of efficiency than it had elsewhere
attained. Numbers of movable towers, together with their unfortunate
occupants, were consumed by its unquenchable flames before they had
time to approach the walls. Considering the long duration of the
siege, but little damage was inflicted upon the fortifications of
the city. The ordinary resources of engineering skill became useless
in the face of the vigilance and determination of the garrison.
Repeated attempts to carry the place by escalade were repulsed. It
was found impracticable to mine the walls. Owing to the accuracy and
penetration of the projectiles discharged by the enemy, the machines
of the Christians could not be worked within a range that would prove
effective. The usual means at the disposal of an attacking force
having failed, it became necessary to resort to a blockade, which
the great numbers of the besieged must in the end render successful.
Hunger and despair were thus eventually found to be more powerful
weapons than all the military appliances at the command of an extensive
monarchy, than the enthusiastic energy of a great nation, than the
combined efforts of a thoroughly organized hierarchy, than even
the benedictions and indulgences of the Papal throne. All of these
influences had been exerted to effect the subjection of the Moorish
capital, and all had hitherto proved unavailing. The Moslems, inclined
to come to terms before their provisions were entirely consumed and
the patience of their enemies exhausted, attempted to treat upon a
basis of ordinary tribute and vassalage,--a proposition which the King
of Castile peremptorily declined to consider. They then continued
to offer concessions more and more favorable to the dignity of the
Christian monarchy, until a treaty was finally agreed upon. It was
with the greatest reluctance that the piety of the Moslems consented
to the surrender of their great mosque, which, with its minaret, was
the most sacred as well as the most conspicuous monument of the city.
They proposed its demolition as one of the conditions of surrender.
To this Ferdinand replied that if a single brick of the edifice was
disturbed he would not leave a Moor alive in Seville. The title to the
capital and its dependencies was transferred to the Castilian crown.
The inhabitants who preferred to remain the subjects of the conqueror
were assured the enjoyment of their laws and their religion, and were
to be liable only to the imposition of taxes legalized by Moslem
usage; those to whom such propositions were repugnant were permitted
to retain their personal effects, and were promised transportation to
any land possessed by their co-religionists which they might, without
restriction, select. The policy of a court which habitually encouraged
the infraction of treaties was not favorable to the retention of a
population whose skill and industry were the true sources of the wealth
of Andalusia. The surviving members of the Almohade dynasty passed
over to Africa. A large majority of the Moors emigrated to Granada,
where the liberality of their new sovereign and their own energy and
perseverance soon raised them to a higher condition of prosperity
than ever. The conduct of Mohammed I., who was placed in an anomalous
and painful situation by an inexorable decree of destiny, elicited
the unstinted praise of both friend and foe. His efforts contributed
largely to the success of the Christians. His military accomplishments
and personal courage were the admiration of cavaliers versed in every
martial exercise and in every stratagem of war. He enjoyed the esteem
and confidence of his royal suzerain. Yet, while participating in
the triumphs of his new allies, he never renounced the ties of blood
and faith which still bound him to his countrymen. His intercession
procured for them advantageous terms in the day of disaster and
humiliation. His sympathy alleviated the bitterness of defeat. And
when no other alternative was left to the vanquished excepting the
capricious indulgence of a perfidious enemy or voluntary exile,
they found under his sceptre a secure and happy refuge from insult
and oppression. More than a hundred thousand of the most industrious
peasantry in the world were thus added to the population of his
dominions by the politic and generous behavior of the King of Granada.
These colonists received ample grants of lands. Seeds and implements of
husbandry were furnished them by the government, and they were exempted
from all taxation for a term of years. By this great immigration, which
impoverished the territory conquered by the Christians, the states of
Granada received a proportionate increase of profit and affluence.

The occupation of Seville by the Castilians was characterized by the
usual ceremonies incident to the capture of a Mussulman city. The
mosques were purified and consecrated to the Christian worship. In
the division of the spoil and the distribution of the rich states of
the Moslem, the Church exercised without remonstrance the privileges
of priority of selection and exorbitant estimate of service. In the
partition of infidel possessions the pretensions of the altar were
fast becoming paramount to the rights of the crown. The ecclesiastical
jurisdiction, suspended since the era of Visigothic supremacy, was
restored. A metropolitan diocese was established. A multitude of
religious houses were founded by the piety of the King and the zeal
or repentance of his followers; thousands of colonists supplied the
vacancies caused by emigration, and Seville within a few months assumed
the dull and cheerless appearance of a Spanish city. The maritime
district of Andalusia, to the westward, as well as the towns situated
between the capital and the coast, successively acknowledged the claims
of Spanish sovereignty, and the undisputed authority of Castile and
Leon soon prevailed from the mountains of Biscay to the Mediterranean
Sea.

While these events were transpiring, the Kings of Aragon and Portugal
had wrested from the grasp of the Moslems, enfeebled by internal
dissensions and constant defeat, the last fragments of the empire of
the khalifs; and there remained of the extensive territory once ruled
by the mighty potentates of Cordova but a single district, designated
in the enumeration of their states as a province, but now daily
increasing in renown as the tributary but powerful kingdom of Granada.

The character of Ferdinand III., like that of so many of his
successors, was largely formed by the monitions of ecclesiastical
counsellors. He was most emphatically the creature of his age,--an age
of romantic undertakings, of mistaken piety, of religious intolerance.
Like the King of Aragon, his contemporary, the early years of his reign
were disturbed by domestic discord. Like him, also, he triumphed by the
aid of the clergy. Profoundly sagacious, he was ever ready to profit by
the factional quarrels of his infidel enemies. He made large additions
to his power by furnishing Castilian troops to aid the ambition or the
enmity of Saracen partisans in return for the cession of important
castles and fertile territory. As a pretended neutral, alternately
supporting the pretensions and promoting the feuds of rival Moslem
princes, the Crown of Castile was always the gainer. King Ferdinand was
a worthy representative of the proselyting spirit which characterized
his royal line from the very institution of the monarchy. Popular
with the masses, his subjects had declared him worthy of canonization
even in his lifetime. To the ecclesiastical order he was an ideal
sovereign. His donations to the Church were frequent and prodigal. In
the occupation of conquered cities he always permitted the crucifix to
take precedence of the sceptre. When the wretched Albigenses, fleeing
from the tortures of Montfort and the swords of his bravos, attempted
to find an asylum beyond the Pyrenees, the pious King of Castile burned
all who fell into his hands, and even performed the highly meritorious
duty of personally assisting at the sacrifice and of heaping fagots
upon the funeral pyres which consumed those obstinate and abominable
heretics.

The conqueror of Andalusia fixed his final residence in the largest of
the provincial capitals which had bowed before the invincible efforts
of his arms. A few hours before his death, on the thirtieth of May,
1252, in abasing humility he received the last sacrament, kneeling
upon the bare earth, with a rope about his neck, in the guise and the
attitude of a convicted malefactor.

In the great cathedral of Seville, the most incomparable monument of
ecclesiastical architecture in Europe, a magnificent chapel has been
raised to his memory. Before the high altar the venerated monarch lies
enshrined in a casket of massy silver. Mounted effigies, encased in the
armor of the thirteenth century, tower above the kneeling worshippers.
On the walls, carved in stone, are the historic escutcheons of
Castile and Leon. The royal sepulchre bears an inscription in four
languages--Latin, Spanish, Hebrew, and Arabic--the respective idioms
of the clergy, the people, the tributary, and the conquered race.
Around it, on each anniversary of his death, a detachment of Granadan
Moors, with lighted tapers in their hands, once stood motionless and in
silence. To-day, three times in every year, the body of Castile’s most
famous sovereign is exposed to public view adorned with all the pomp of
royalty,--with the crown, the sceptre, the robes; mass is said, and a
regiment of soldiers salute the mouldering remains of one of the most
eminent and successful commanders of his time.

CHAPTER XX

PROSECUTION OF THE RECONQUEST

1252–1475

Condition of Moorish Spain after the Death of Ferdinand
III.--Invasion of Ibn-Yusuf--Vast Wealth and Power
of the Spanish Clergy--Public Disorder---Energy of
Mohammed I.--His Achievements--Mohammed II.--Peace with
Castile--Character of Alfonso X.--Siege of Tarifa--Mohammed
III.--Al-Nazer--Ismail--Baza taken--Mohammed IV.--The Empire of
Fez--Defeat of the Africans in the Plain of Pagana---Yusuf--Rout
of the Salado--Alfonso XI. captures Algeziras--Splendid
Public Works of the Kings of Granada--Mohammed V.--Ismail
II.--Abu-Said--He repairs to the Court of Pedro el Cruel, and
is murdered--Yusuf II.--Mohammed VI.--Yusuf III.--Mohammed
VII.--Mohammed VIII.--Ibn-Ismail--Gibraltar taken by the
Castilians--Character of Muley Hassan--Critical Condition of the
Spanish Arabs--Impending Destruction of the Kingdom of Granada.

The capture of Seville terminates an important epoch of the Reconquest.
The narrative of the events relating to the condition and conduct of
the subjugated Moors during the long period which intervened between
the reigns of Ferdinand the Saint and Ferdinand the Catholic presents a
melancholy and repulsive picture of unblushing extortion and successful
treason, of violated pledges and sanguinary revenge. Oppressed by
the exactions and cruelty of their lords, the unhappy sectaries of
Islam more than once sought relief in hopeless rebellion. The Moslem
population of Valencia, numbering three hundred thousand, made a
desperate but ineffectual attempt to regain their independence. As a
penalty for this, their expulsion was resolved upon by the King of
Aragon,--a measure suggested and promoted by the clergy. The nobles,
unwilling to sacrifice their revenues, encouraged the resistance of
their vassals; and such was the influence of the aristocracy that
a monarch, in order to punish treason, was forced to purchase the
concurrence of his too powerful subjects by the donation of large sums
of money. The train of exiles filled the highway for a distance of five
leagues, and the great sum of a hundred thousand pieces of gold was
collected as toll from those alone who obtained the expensive privilege
of crossing the Castilian frontier.

Seventy thousand others, resolved to try the fortune of the sword,
contended for three years with heroic but unavailing courage against
the entire resources of the Aragonese monarchy. At length they were
overpowered and compelled to evacuate the kingdom; many of their
vacant lands were seized by the Crown; the most desirable estates were
absorbed by the Church; the chapel replaced the mosque, the begging
friar the laborer; agriculture was neglected; mechanical industry
declined, and the vagrants and outlaws of every contiguous state, whose
descendants now enjoy a reputation for ferocity, vindictiveness, and
treachery, which has spread to the remotest corners of Europe, hastened
to occupy the abandoned habitations of what had been appropriately
designated a terrestrial paradise.

The Moslem tributaries of the various Christian princes participated
in the endless conflicts of every disputed succession, always to
their disadvantage, often to their ruin. During this age of political
transition, where the lines separating the great powers of the country
were so faintly drawn as to be sometimes undiscernible, and where the
oldest ties of kindred were constantly broken in the gratification of
vengeance or the pursuit of empire, a condition of chaotic disorder
prevailed in every kingdom, state, and city of the Spanish Peninsula.

The brilliant campaigns of Ferdinand III. had extended far beyond its
original limits the once insignificant realm of the Castilian monarchy.
His exploits had confirmed the faith and inflamed the enthusiasm of his
subjects. The trophies won from the Moslem, the almost unbroken series
of triumphs, the vast and ever-increasing acquisition of territory
indicated to the devout the special and indulgent protection of God. In
the mind of a populace dominated by the pride of victory and the hope
of conquest, there was no room for the gentle and prosaic avocations of
peace. The humanizing benefits of commerce were considered beneath the
dignity of a nation devoted to the profession of arms, and its practice
was abandoned to the states of the Adriatic, at once despised and
envied for their intelligence, their acuteness, and their prosperity.
The universal prevalence of ecclesiastical legends, whose authenticity
was proclaimed from every pulpit, had destroyed all taste for
historical composition. The story of earthly heroes, the recital of the
rise and fall of great empires and kingdoms, the progress of the arts,
the triumphs of civilization were contemptuously cast aside for the
miracles of fictitious saints and the absurd prodigies of superstition.

With increasing numbers, enormous revenues, and political influence,
which not infrequently controlled the decrees of kings and councils,
the Church, in the Peninsula as elsewhere, had long since discarded its
primitive simplicity of faith and worship. The manners of its prelates
were more arrogant than those of the greatest sovereigns. The most
fertile lands of every province were apportioned among its servants.
Its edifices occupied the most commanding and picturesque locations.
From the contributions of wealthy proselytes, from the spoils of
vanquished infidels, from the scruples of the pious, and from the
apprehensions of the dying, immense sums were annually deposited in
its treasury. The heads of the religious houses, by royal charter or
papal usurpation, possessed and exercised without interference the
privilege of life and death over their vassals. Some of them yielded in
precedence and prerogative to the king alone. The power and opulence
enjoyed by these establishments are little understood at the present
day. The convent of Las Huelgas, founded by Alfonso VIII., near Burgos,
is but one example of many which might be adduced. Its buildings
exhibited the highest degree of architectural magnificence of which
the age was capable. Three hundred towns and villages acknowledged
the authority of the abbess, who was a princess palatine. The rental
of its estates amounted to a fabulous sum, which often, in times of
public disorder, far exceeded the revenues of the crown. The fortunes
bestowed by its inmates, all of whom were required to be of noble
birth, formed no inconsiderable proportion of its great and constantly
increasing wealth. In its chapel were the mausoleums of kings and
princes exquisitely carved in marble and alabaster. Before its altar
had been knighted many personages, among them Edward I. of England.
The reverence with which this convent was regarded corresponded with
the luxury which invested its surroundings, and the authority of the
haughty dignitary who presided over its destinies and governed her
retainers and dependents with autocratic sway. Such was one of the
innumerable ecclesiastical foundations which covered the Peninsula,
soliciting the gifts of the pious, tempting the sacrifice of the
superstitious, and awakening the awe and veneration of the ignorant and
credulous multitude.

The relations between the religious, political, and military orders
were then more intimate in Spain than in any other country in the
world. Bishops went forth to battle in complete steel, followed by
trains of armed vassals, and it was found in the hour of trial that the
prowess of these belligerent soldiers of the Church was not inferior to
that of their ruder companions, inured by the experience of a lifetime
to the hardships and perils of war. In the short and infrequent
intervals of peace, the aspiring ecclesiastic indulged his restless
spirit in the dangerous and exciting diversion of political intrigue.
Not an assassination was planned, not a conspiracy was projected, but
the crosier and the crucifix were found side by side with the sword
and the poniard. With such associations, it is not strange that the
vices of the camps and the unrelenting ferocity which distinguished
the mercenary crusader should have found a lodgement in the quiet
abodes of religious seclusion. The choice of the female captives was
reserved for the episcopal voluptuary. The subterranean vaults of the
monastery were provided with the most improved instruments of torture.
The richest spoils were appropriated for the benefit of the cathedral
and the abbey. The wealth of the latter was incredible. The combined
revenues of the Archiepiscopal See of Toledo, in the fourteenth
century, were two hundred and sixty thousand ducats, or four and a
half million dollars; those of the three great military orders were
a hundred and forty-five thousand ducats, or upwards of two million.
The state of morals prevalent among the clergy was disclosed by an
edict of Alfonso X., by which he granted to the priesthood, devoted
by their vows and by the canons of the Church to a condition of
poverty and celibacy, the privilege of bequeathing their wealth to the
offspring of their concubines. In the reign of Henry III., a mistress
of the King was appointed the superior of a convent for the avowed
purpose of reforming its inmates! The immorality of the religious
teachers, whose behavior, so at variance with their professions,
scarcely excited comment, insensibly reacted upon the people. The
licentiousness of the Castilian, from the king to the beggar, was
proverbial. The illegitimate offspring of the monarch often took
precedence of the legal heirs to the throne. The nobles imitated with
eagerness the example of royalty, and the life of the lower orders
was incredibly profligate. Political honor and private integrity were
practically extinct. The obligations of loyalty, the performance of
contracts, the solemn engagements which united in mutual dependence
the lord and the vassal, were habitually violated. The commission
of crime, often instigated by the authorities appointed to punish
it, went on unchecked. The highways swarmed with outlaws. The fields
lay waste and whole districts were depopulated, for the industrious
peasantry were unwilling to labor when their oppressors reaped the
harvest. The turbulent aristocracy, when not engaged in prosecuting
hereditary feuds, without concealment or apology plundered the domains
and appropriated the revenues of the crown. The king was frequently
compelled to pawn the insignia of his office in order to obtain the
necessaries of life. The priesthood and the nobles engrossed the wealth
of the realm. Debasement of the coinage, that fruitful source of so
many evils, was frequently resorted to. In many parts of the country
agriculture was practically abandoned; trade was paralyzed, and the
pestilence, the companion of filth, neglect, and starvation, swept
populous communities entirely away. The expenses of incessant warfare
imposed new burdens upon a suffering and despairing people. In a single
year, in Aragon, the sums expended for the ransom of prisoners amounted
to four hundred thousand florins. Amidst this thorough demoralization
of society, from which no class and comparatively few individuals were
exempt, in the army alone was preserved the faint semblance of honor
and virtue. The Castilian soldier, ever brave and generous, despite the
superstition which often tarnished his character, while bowing with
reverence before the altar, reserved his secret homage for the God
of War. When not exercised against the infidel, now restricted to a
corner of the Peninsula, his weapons were turned against his neighbor.
His imagination was dazzled by the story of his ancestors; his courage
was animated by the hope that he might equal or even surpass their
almost superhuman exploits. A military career was the surest avenue to
the enjoyment of fame, to the acquirement of wealth, to the applause
of the multitude, to the smiles of beauty, to all those advantages
regarded by mankind as most desirable in this life, and for which
every superstitious age has with singular inconsistency been willing
to barter the prospect of future happiness and eternal glory in the
life to come. The pompous splendor of medieval array appealed strongly
to every sentiment which could impress or influence the mind of the
courtly noble or the unlettered peasant. Silks and cloth of gold;
glittering armor curiously inlaid with precious metals; sparkling gems;
gorgeously caparisoned horses; tabards embroidered with royal devices
and suggestive mottoes; jewelled weapons whose weight and dimensions
indicated that corporeal strength and manual dexterity were the most
useful qualities of a soldier who prided himself quite as much upon
his courtesy as his valor,--these were the attractions which with
irresistible force impelled members of every rank of society to the
most fascinating and lucrative of all professions,--the trade of arms.

Until the reign of Alfonso X. the pursuit of letters, abandoned to the
monks, had been practised solely in the cloister. The more or less
intimate relations maintained at different periods between the courts
of Castile and Granada, the great universities and colleges of the
Moorish kingdom, the precious literary remains which had survived
the ruin of the Western Khalifate, the traditions of a civilization
more elegant and polished than the world had heretofore known, made
no perceptible impression upon those savage warriors who had borne in
triumph the standard of the Cross from the defiles of the Asturias to
the banks of the Guadalquivir. The mosques of the conquered Moslems
had been deformed by incongruous additions and blackened with the
smoke of incense. The exquisite labors of the Arab and Byzantine
artists were plastered over with lime. Scientific instruments, almost
universally viewed with mingled dread and suspicion as infernal
apparatus for the prosecution of magic and the invocation of demons,
were broken to pieces. Every copy of the Koran that could be found was
destroyed. Such works in the Arabic tongue as came into the hands of
the ecclesiastics were at once committed to the flames as of diabolical
import. The beautiful palaces and villas of the Moorish princes were
suffered to fall into decay. When, in after years, it was desired
to partially restore their delicate ornamentation, no one could be
found who understood the process,--it had been entirely lost. The
lovely plantations of Andalusia, traversed by a thousand rivulets,
enriched with bountiful harvests, fragrant with the blossoms of rare
exotics, provided with every plant subservient to the comfort or the
gratification of man, were turned into a vast and dreary solitude.

No qualities or tastes of the infidel were considered by the knight
worthy of emulation save his polygamous habits and his courage and
dexterity in battle,--a courage and dexterity which, alas! were
insufficient to arrest, and scarcely able to retard, the stubborn and
relentless march of Spanish conquest.

The social, political, and religious conditions of the Castilian
monarchy sketched in the preceding pages become most important when
the causes of the prolongation of the Moorish domination in Spain are
considered. The kingdom of Granada, like that of Castile, was rent
by internal dissensions. Surrounded by powerful and hostile states,
it maintained its existence chiefly through the incessant quarrels
of its neighbors. In its court and capital treason and crime were
rampant. Emir after emir, whose titles were derived from the murder
of their kinsmen, succeeded one another on the throne. A great and
tumultuous population, which had fled before the invincible squadrons
of the conqueror, crowded its provinces. The mixed character of the
latter and the seditious elements of which it was composed rendered it
ever ready for revolt. The numerous offspring of the royal harem was
also an endless and menacing source of danger and discord. Under such
circumstances, threatened with certain destruction, with the banners
of Castile often in sight of the towers of the Alhambra, its midnight
sky illumined with the light of burning villages, its frontiers
contracting with almost every Christian foray, the Moorish kingdom
maintained, from the death of Ferdinand III. to the accession of the
Catholic sovereigns, a period of two hundred and twenty-two years,
a turbulent and precarious existence. The monotony of that long and
dreary period was unbroken by any great event, and diversified only by
predatory inroads, by occasional sieges of fortified towns,--some of
which, Algeziras, Tarifa, Gibraltar, were lost forever to the Moslem
empire,--and by those calamities incident to the decadence of a nation
whose’ parts had lost their cohesive power, and whose resources were
exhausted in treasonable enterprises and civil war rather than employed
in counteracting and repelling the efforts of the common enemy.

Mohammed I., as soon as he learned of the death of King Ferdinand,
hastened to manifest his respect for his former lord by despatching a
hundred Moorish nobles to Seville, where, clad in the deepest mourning
and bearing lighted tapers, they followed the body of the monarch to
the grave. Through policy or esteem, the alliance between the courts
of Granada and Castile was renewed; the Emir, in token of dependence,
did homage to Alfonso as his suzerain; and this condition of vassalage,
more nominal than real, and rather indicative of friendship than
subjection, served materially to protract the term of life of the
Moslem kingdom, in the course of natural events inevitably destined
to destruction. Summoned by the King of Castile to attend him in his
expeditions against the Moors of Eastern Andalusia, Mohammed, bound
by the obligations he had assumed, was compelled to draw his sword
upon his fellow-sectaries in the interest and for the exclusive
benefit of the hereditary enemies of his religion and his race. Arcos,
Medina-Sidonia, Xerez, Lebrija, Niebla, and many places of inferior
note fell into the hands of the Christians. With bitter mortification
the Saracens beheld the subjugation of strongholds whose defences had
been constructed by the soldiers of the greatest khalif’s, aware that
their aid had contributed in no small degree to victories which must in
the end affect the integrity of their own dominion.

The unfortunate results of this alliance did not fail to produce
upon the sagacious and penetrating mind of Mohammed-al-Ahmar a
deep and abiding impression. Foreseeing the certain recurrence of
hostilities with the Christians, he employed every resource at his
command to strengthen the defences of his kingdom and to place his
army in readiness for aggressive operations. The flying squadrons
of cavalry, which had always been the strongest arm of the Moorish
service, were reorganized and placed under the command of skilful and
experienced captains. Great quantities of provisions and munitions
of war were collected and stored in magazines in every part of the
country. New castles and watch-towers were erected on the frontiers.
Secret emissaries were despatched to foment treason and disorder
in those cities which had recently been added by conquest to the
Castilian territory, and whose population, largely Moorish, cherished
an implacable aversion to their new masters. The fortresses of the
South, and especially Gibraltar, were strengthened and their garrisons
increased. Negotiations were entered into with the Emir of Morocco,
who was induced to abandon his sectarian prejudices and his personal
resentment to further a meritorious and pious enterprise,--resistance
against the menacing encroachments of the Christian power. When all
was ready, an embassy from the towns of Medina-Sidonia, Murcia, Xerez,
and Arcos solicited the aid of Mohammed, promising as a reward for
his interference the annexation of their provinces to the kingdom of
Granada. With secret assurances of support, which indeed had already
awakened the hope of success, the tributary Moslems of the South,
from Valencia to the borders of Portugal, rose simultaneously in
rebellion. The Christians, ignorant or heedless of impending danger,
were ruthlessly slaughtered. The soldiery fared no better than the
unarmed citizens, only obtaining a somewhat longer respite by the
exertion of their superior valor and skill. The garrison of Xerez,
commanded by Count Gomez, after a defence memorable even in those
days of knightly heroism, perished to the last man. The women and
children of the massacred Castilians passed into the harems of the
infidel; many were sent to Granada, some were sold in Africa. The city
of Murcia was taken by a detachment of cavalry, secretly despatched
by Mohammed. A conspiracy, which had for its object the liberation
of Seville and Cordova from the Christian yoke, was discovered and
frustrated by the merest accident; and the attempt to recover the
great mosque of Abd-al-Rahman,--in the eyes of Mohammedans one of the
most sacred edifices in the world, and still, despite its degradation
to a temple of idolatrous worship, an object of the deepest reverence
to millions of the votaries of Islam,--though unsuccessful, failed to
remove from the minds of the fanatic believer the conviction that the
shrine, enriched and embellished by the munificence and devotion of
the khalifs, was destined at some future time to be restored to the
possession of its original owners and its endless aisles once more to
resound with the truths committed by the Spirit of Almighty Wisdom to
the inspired interpretation of the Prophet of God.

Notwithstanding the secret and hostile machinations of Mohammed,
already more than suspected by King Alfonso, the crafty Moor still
maintained in his intercourse with the latter the appearance of
alliance and friendship. But his temporizing conduct, when requested to
assist in the subjugation of the rebels, soon resolved suspicion into
certainty; the seriousness of the danger became manifest, and Alfonso,
finally convinced of the dissimulation of his vassal, prepared to
defend not only the ancient heritage of his fathers, but the recently
acquired possessions of the crown.

A formidable band of Africans, sent by the Emir of Morocco, crossed
the strait and joined the Moslem army, and a bloody but indecisive
battle, in which the advantage remained with the Moslems, was fought
near Alcalá-la-Real. The country on the borders of both kingdoms was
constantly ravaged by bands of marauders. The Moors of the revolted
provinces, secure in the defences of the fortified towns, defied the
irregular and ill-concerted efforts to dislodge them, and the rancor of
religious hatred, intensified by centuries of enmity, which intervals
of truce and mutual professions of service had not sufficed to even
palliate, broke forth with redoubled fury in every hamlet and city
of Southern Andalusia. In the presence of an exhausted treasury, a
dissatisfied and disloyal nobility, and an active foe who commanded
at once the resources of his own kingdom and those of his allies in
Africa, Alfonso began to realize how desperate was his situation. But
while the territory acquired by the valor of Ferdinand III. seemed
about to be wrenched from the feeble grasp of his son, the proverbial
inconstancy of the Arab character, consistent in nothing save the
gratification of private revenge, solved forever, at a critical moment,
the problem of Moslem domination or servitude. The African allies, to
whom the credit of the victory of Alcalá-la-Real was justly due, had
in consequence been treated with distinguished consideration by the
grateful Mohammed. But in the eyes of the Andalusian Moors the Africans
were heretics, and the peculiar bias of narrow minds which regards a
hostile sectary as infinitely more detestable than a foe in arms, aided
by national and provincial jealousy, subverted a great and well-planned
revolution. Forgetful of their services, a cry of indignant protest was
raised by the bigoted Andalusian populace against the favors bestowed
upon the African auxiliaries; the faquis, the ecclesiastical demagogues
of the time, fanned the flame of religious animosity, and the spirit
of theological discord, ever so prominent in the Moorish annals of
the Peninsula, once more preferred the triumph of misdirected zeal to
the welfare of country or the preservation of empire. The walis of
Guadix, Malaga, and Comares, voicing the sentiments of the communities
they governed, and perhaps influenced by aspirations to ultimate
independence, offered to render homage to the King of Castile, with
the understanding that he was to protect them from the consequences
of rebellion. Alfonso received with joy the news of this unexpected
accession of strength, and he embraced with eagerness the proffered
alliance. The forces of the walis at once descended with irresistible
fury upon the Vega, and the revolted cities, abandoned by the Emir,
whose capital was menaced by the active squadrons of Malaga, were in
a few months compelled to solicit the mercy of the conqueror. The
larger portion of the Moorish inhabitants fled to Granada to add to
the constantly growing resources and population of that kingdom, still
destined for many generations to represent the culture, the science,
the intelligence, and the politeness of Western Europe.

In the mean time, Jaime of Aragon, solicited by Alfonso, had occupied
the city and territory of Murcia. His well-known probity, combined
with his military reputation, induced the Moors to receive him rather
as a mediator than an enemy. His wise and humane policy reconciled the
vassals to their suzerain; and Alfonso, with a bad faith conspicuous
in an age of broken treaties and repudiated obligations, agreed
not only to desert his allies, the walis, but to assist in their
subjugation, if Mohammed would forever renounce all sovereignty over
the province of Murcia. Upon these conditions a truce was agreed to,
which, however, was immediately violated by Alfonso, who, besides
refusing his aid, ordered Mohammed to acknowledge the independence of
the cities of Guadix, Comares, and Malaga, whose geographical position
and impregnable fortifications caused them to be regarded as the keys
of the kingdom. The resumption of negotiations produced more enduring
and satisfactory results, and the walls, to whose timely defection the
Castilian king owed the restoration of the most valuable part of his
recently acquired dominions, were abandoned to the vengeance of the
exasperated Emir, who purchased of the Christians temporary immunity
from further hostilities by an annual tribute of two hundred and fifty
thousand maravedis of gold.

Not long afterwards, while Alfonso was deliberating whether he should
not again betray his vassal Mohammed by countenancing his rebellious
subjects, he was recalled to Castile by a conspiracy of the nobles,
headed by the Count de Lara and Don Philip, the brother of the King.
The fatal indecision of his character was never more strikingly
displayed than in his treatment of the conspirators, who defied the
royal authority with impunity in the Cortes and the palace alike,
and who finally, to the number of several thousand, including their
retainers, renouncing their suzerainty, as permitted by feudal law,
took refuge at the court of Granada, plundering and ravaging their own
country on the way and sparing neither the rich possessions of the
crown nor the sacred edifices of the Church. Mohammed welcomed this
seasonable reinforcement to his prestige and power with more than regal
hospitality; his distinguished guests were quartered in magnificent
palaces, the most attractive national spectacles were arranged for
their amusement; they received assurances of the substantial support
of the Emir in the disputes with their sovereign; while, in the mean
time, the shrewd and enterprising Moslem secured without difficulty
the promise of their aid in the impending and doubtful contest with
his defiant vassals. An expedition was organized for that purpose; the
Christian knights mingled with the train of the Moslem sovereign, and a
gallant array issued from the gates of Granada. But before the allied
army had advanced far from the capital a sudden illness seized the
Emir, and he expired in his tent within sight of the city which he had
done so much to adorn.

The founder of a famous dynasty, Mohammed was one of the most talented
of those princes who enjoyed the distinction of maintaining through
many troubled generations the defence of the Moslem worship and the
glory of the Moslem arms. At once bold and crafty, his duplicity arose
rather from the character of the adversaries with whom he was forced
to contend than from a cunning and ignoble nature. The doctrine that
it is pardonable and, under certain circumstances, even meritorious,
to disregard the most solemn engagements contracted with an infidel,
subsequently carried to such atrocious consequences among the Indian
population of the New World, had begun to be, as already stated, a
generally admitted maxim of Catholic casuistry. Throughout the Middle
Ages the law of nations, the construction of treaties, the courtesies
of martial gallantry, the conditions of honorable peace, were
imperfectly understood, negligently practised, and often deliberately
violated. Many of the defects of this great prince were therefrom
traceable to the lax morality of the age. His acts of homage to his
mortal foes were mere incidents of a deep-laid policy, entered into to
secure the establishment and consolidation of his power. His monarchy,
oppressed by the progress of incessant conquest, became insensibly
stronger and more easy to defend as its frontiers were contracted.
With the Castilian occupation of every city, a crowd of industrious
exiles, bearing their household goods, was added to the already
numerous population of Granada; accessions which brought with them no
inconsiderable wealth and many qualities more valuable than wealth
to a declining empire,--habits of industry and thrift, a capacity to
adapt themselves to new conditions, the memory of former injuries, the
melancholy experiences of persecution, the hope of retribution, and
an unconquerable hatred of the Christian name. It was the political
incorporation of this banished and oppressed people, aided by the
mountain barriers of its last refuge, that contributed to preserve
for future glory and unparalleled disaster the flourishing kingdom of
Granada.

The founding of the Alhambra has perhaps done more to perpetuate the
glory of Mohammed I. than any of the political or military achievements
of his career. During its construction he mingled with the workmen,
encouraging their efforts, directing their labors, rewarding their
diligence. But a small portion of the palace was completed in his
lifetime; and it was reserved for his distant successors, under more
fortunate circumstances and in a more polished age, to bring to
perfection the fairy edifice which his taste and genius had projected.
During the reign of this great prince every art and every industry
received substantial encouragement; agriculture, which, under the
khalifs, had reached such an extraordinary development, again became
the favorite pursuit of a laborious peasantry; the shipping of every
maritime nation brought the products of the East and West to the
Moorish ports of the Mediterranean; the warehouses were filled with
those articles of use and luxury which minister to the necessities
and the tastes of the noble and the opulent; the mining resources of
the sierras, long neglected through internal commotions and foreign
war, were again developed; the quarries of jasper and marble once
more contributed their treasures for the adornment of palace and
mosque; public baths and hospitals furnished with every convenience
and appliance known to medicine and surgery in a country which, in its
acquaintance with and adaptation of those sciences, surpassed every
other in Europe, rose in the principal cities of the kingdom; and the
universal thrift and contentment exhibited in the appearance of the
people afforded conclusive testimony of the wisdom, the justice, and
the vigilance with which they were governed. Nor was the solicitude of
the monarch confined to the material wants of his subjects. Schools,
colleges, and other institutions of learning were multiplied beyond
the example of any preceding age in that quarter of the Peninsula.
The libraries, upon whose shelves were still to be found some of
those volumes which had survived the wreck and the dispersion of the
magnificent collection of Al-Hakem II., were the delight and the
recreation of every intelligent scholar. In the embellishment of the
mosques were exhibited the first examples of that art whose unrivalled
beauty, in after times, found its climax upon the walls of the Alhambra
in a splendor of ornamentation which modern skill has in vain attempted
to approach.

In the dispensation of justice Mohammed followed the patriarchal
example of his Arab ancestors. He gave audience twice a week at the
gate of his palace; the humblest suitor was certain of an attentive
hearing, and no person was too insignificant to be restored to
his rights or too powerful to escape the consequences of insolent
oppression or violated law. The public works and institutions were
the especial objects of the care of this wise and politic ruler;
he personally inspected the baths, the hospitals, the schools, the
mosques, the highways, the aqueducts; the fidelity of the teacher
and the diligence of the pupil were stimulated by judicious rewards;
and his administration, surrounded by every evidence of prosperity
and refinement, indicated that the genius of Moslem progress and
civilization had entered upon a new and glorious existence on the banks
of the Darro and the Genil. What a contrast was all this to the moral,
intellectual, and social condition of Europe, and especially of Spain,
in the middle of the thirteenth century! What had the boorish Castilian
crusader to offer in exchange for it; what benefit could accrue to
mankind from its suppression?

Mohammed-al-Ahmar was succeeded by his son Mohammed II., whose
genius, taste, and learning proved him to be eminently worthy of
his inheritance. An accomplished linguist, his leisure moments were
employed in familiar conversation with the scholars and philosophers
of distant countries, attracted to his court by his reputation for
wisdom, his encouragement of letters, his protection of the arts, and
his profuse but discerning liberality. His first act was an edict
continuing in their official positions the ministers of his father,
whose capacity had been proved by many years of faithful service; his
second, the overthrow of the rebel walis, who sustained an overwhelming
defeat near Antequera, by which the authority of the new emir was
re-established over the territory recently in revolt, and his talents
as a general became known to the Castilians, destined erelong to
receive fresh evidences of his activity and courage. The recalcitrant
Christian nobles, whose valor had contributed to the victory of
Antequera, received magnificent rewards of horses, arms, money, and
slaves. Sumptuous palaces, furnished with all the refinements of
Moorish luxury, were allotted to their use or even constructed in their
honor in the suburbs of the most beautiful and romantic capital in
Europe.

Sentiments of mutual respect, accompanied perhaps with some
apprehension of the results of a conflict where the forces of both
parties were so evenly balanced, induced the rival monarchs to consent
to a conference with a view to the establishment of peace. In the city
of Seville, at that time the seat of the Castilian court, the notable
assembly was held. In the old Moorish Alcazar, as yet intact, King
Alfonso received the Emir of Granada with the barbaric magnificence
which characterized the Spanish chivalry of that age. The handsome
features, grave demeanor, and elegant manners of the Moslem sovereign
surprised and charmed the ignorant Castilians, accustomed to consider
their infidel foes as savages in appearance and demons in character.
The splendid arms and costumes of the Moorish nobles dazzled the eyes
of the people, while their martial bearing evoked the admiration of
the Christian champions, who had experienced the prowess of their
guests in many a bloody and stoutly contested encounter. The polished
helmets and damascened armor of the recreant knights appeared side by
side with the white turbans and silken robes which distinguished the
followers of the Prophet. Every courtesy was shown to the Emir and his
retinue; the day was passed in tournaments and spectacles, the night in
concerts, theatrical displays, and banquets. Political negotiations,
for a time subordinated to royal hospitality and chivalric amusements,
were finally entered upon, and in the end completed with little honor
or credit to the Castilian king. The demands of the Infante Don Philip
and his adherents were granted; they were restored to their estates and
resumed their precarious allegiance; a truce was arranged between the
rival sovereigns, and a numerous escort of nobles, who represented the
pride and luxury of the Spanish court, accompanied the Moslems to the
frontier of the kingdom.

Mohammed II., humiliated by the dependent position he was compelled to
assume at his accession and seeing no advantages to be derived from the
perfidious friendship of the Castilians, adopted at once the astute
and crooked policy of his father. Influenced by his representations,
Ibn-Yusuf, Emir of Morocco, invaded the Peninsula at the head of an
army of fifty thousand men. He was at once joined by the King of
Granada, and the Moslems of every community of Andalusia hastened
to his standard, eager to try once more the alluring but uncertain
fortunes of war. The two Moslem princes marched in parallel lines,
within supporting distance of each other. The country, which had for
a quarter of a century experienced a respite from the ravages of a
hostile army, was visited with a severity which equalled that of the
most destructive of former campaigns. Not a house, not a tree, not a
field of grass or grain remained standing in the blackened track of
the invader. Great numbers of Christians perished; a long train of
captives followed the Moslem armies; and the days of African dominion
seemed about to be renewed. At the Castilian frontier the Sultan of
Morocco encountered Nuño de Lara, commandant of that military district,
and after a furious battle the bodies of the Spanish general and eight
thousand of his followers which strewed the plain bore witness to the
prowess of the Berber soldiery.

The division of Mohammed II. moved through the territory of Jaen,
where Sancho, Primate of Spain,--who, the son of Jaime, King of
Aragon, had inherited the martial instincts of his father, in a
warlike age rather an incentive than an impediment to the duties of
the clerical profession,--had assumed command. The distinguished
prelate, relying more upon the miraculous intervention of Heaven
than upon the numerical strength of his squadrons, did not hesitate
to attack with a few thousand knights the entire Moorish army. His
followers were slaughtered, and he himself, surrounded and disarmed,
became the prisoner of a score of Moslems, who, judging from his dress
and appearance that he must be a personage of unusual consequence,
contended angrily for the honor of the capture and the hope of a heavy
ransom. Both African and Andalusian were interested in the result; the
old factional prejudices were revived, and an appeal to arms seemed
imminent, when a venerable Andalusian sheik, riding up, transfixed the
unhappy cause of the dispute between the shoulders with his lance,
exclaiming, “God forbid that so many good Mussulmans should shed their
blood for the sake of a Christian dog!” The head and the right hand
of the Archbishop, embalmed with camphor, were preserved as revolting
but significant trophies of victory; the episcopal crosier and the
ring of investiture, sanctified by the blessing of the Holy Father
himself, became the treasured spoil of the infidel, and the Christians,
depressed by the triumphs of the enemy and by the loss of their
general, were unable to retrieve the disaster, whose report carried
sorrow into every Catholic community in Europe.

Every circumstance seemed at this time favorable to the success of
the Moslem arms. The infante, Don Ferdinand, heir apparent to the
Castilian crown, died suddenly while marching southward to engage the
enemy. His death encouraged the agitation of quarrels and intrigues
between the princes of the blood and the nobility. The Christians,
warned by past reverses, hesitated to meet their formidable adversaries
in the field. The harsh policy originally adopted by the Castilian
conquerors now demonstrated its wisdom. The Moors had been driven from
the great cities. In every place of importance the Christian population
predominated. The invaders could make no impression upon fortified
towns, and their sympathizing countrymen, who remained within their
walls, dared not afford them the least information or assistance. The
campaign ended in ignominious failure. The Africans, having retired
to Algeziras, soon experienced the tortures of famine. A Castilian
squadron, cruising along the coast, prevented an inglorious retreat,
and an enterprise which seemed at first to offer a not improbable
prospect of the restoration of Moslem supremacy was frustrated by the
indecision and discord of rival commanders. The weakness of one party
and the necessities of the other promoted a mutual desire for peace,
and a treaty, from whose benefits the Moslem princes of Andalusia, to
whose representations was to be attributed the renewal of hostilities
which had so seriously affected the Christian power, were tacitly
excluded, was negotiated between Alfonso and the Sultan. The Africans
were then permitted to retire, and the Andalusians hastened to renew
an allegiance solely based upon considerations of present expediency,
assumed and renounced with equal facility and unconcern. From time
to time, during the reign of Alfonso X., the peace of the kingdom of
Castile was disturbed by the determined enmity of the Emir of Granada.
The efforts of that prince were, however, mainly confined to the
temporary and local injuries incident to the operations of guerilla
warfare.

The siege of Algeziras, which, with Tarifa, had been ceded by Mohammed
II. to the Sultan of Morocco, was undertaken by the Castilians, who,
through the negligence of the authorities and the demoralization
consequent on a lamentable want of discipline, were compelled to
abandon their position with the loss of their ships and the capture of
their admiral. The arms of the Christians were then turned against the
Moslems of Granada. The general result of the campaign was favorable
to the latter, but the devastation of the rich plantations of the Vega
more than counterbalanced the brilliant but costly honors of military
success, and hostilities were suspended by common consent, only to be
renewed at a more advantageous opportunity. The declining years of
Alfonso were harassed by the ambition and disobedience of his son. The
aid of the Sultan, moved by the wretchedness of his former adversary,
was solicited and granted; but a few indecisive encounters, followed
by the sudden withdrawal of the Africans, were the only fruits of this
precarious and impolitic alliance, regarded with horror by the clergy
and with suspicion and disfavor by even the most ardent partisans of
the Castilian king.

The reign of Alfonso X., whose well-known title EL Sabio, The Learned,
would have rendered him illustrious even in a more intelligent and
a less warlike age, is a shining landmark amidst the intellectual
desolation of the thirteenth century. His education, his associations,
his tastes, and his habits had preserved him, in a great degree, from
the contaminating and degrading influences which warped the intellect
and perverted the impulses of the greatest statesmen and warriors of
the time. Excelling in every art save that of war, which, unfortunately
for him, was at that epoch the only title to popular respect and
honorable distinction, his career presents a remarkable contrast to
that of his father, St. Ferdinand, whose acquirements were confined
to the military profession, whose life was an incessant struggle
with the infidel, and whose devotion to the interests of the Church
has been rewarded by his exaltation to the more than regal dignity
of intercessor for the prostrate suppliant at the Throne of God. The
age of ignorance in which the lot of Alfonso X. was cast could not
appreciate or comprehend the necessity for, or the advantages of,
literary or scientific attainments. The ecclesiastic did the thinking
for the multitude. His knowledge seldom extended beyond the contents
of his breviary. In his narrow mind association with infidels was
the blackest of crimes, only to be expiated by arduous penance and
liberal contributions. The whole career of this prince disclosed his
political incapacity and his disinclination to adapt his conduct to
the circumstances which environed him. He received from his father
the heritage of a great but unformed empire. Insulted by the nobles,
distrusted by the multitude, maligned by the clergy, and despoiled
by his sons, he died without the possession and almost without the
semblance of royal power. His naturally pacific disposition brought
upon him the censure of a nation whose traditions for centuries had
been derived from crusade and conquest. His enmity to the Emir of
Granada was never sufficiently intense to exclude from his society
the Moslem philosophers, physicians, and astronomers who shared his
friendship and enjoyed his bounty. The scowling priest eyed askance
the swarthy faces and flowing robes of the infidel strangers, who,
protected by royal authority, frequented without molestation the
observatories of Cordova and the libraries of Seville and Toledo. In
the minds of the superstitious ecclesiastics they were magicians, who,
in league with evil spirits, performed in the secret recesses of the
palace infernal rites and diabolical sacrifices. The intimacy of the
King with these accomplished scholars was considered a reproach, an act
to be condemned by every devout and zealous Christian. The orthodoxy
of Alfonso received a final blow when he required the clergy, who
monopolized the most profitable sources of revenue of the kingdom,
to contribute to the support of the government and to the expenses
incurred during the Moorish wars.

In all the literary productions of the reign of Alfonso X. is to be
readily discerned the influence of his enlightened neighbors, the
Moslems of Granada. His astronomical tables--a prodigy of scientific
knowledge and accuracy, considering the era in which they were
compiled--were the work of fifty astronomers, the majority of whom
were Moors and Jews; the time occupied in their arrangement and
calculation extended over several years, and their cost aroused the
pharisaical indignation of the clergy, who saw the revenues of the
crown diverted for sacrilegious purposes from the control of the
orthodox to the profit of the infidel and the heretic. This monument
of erudition, still regarded with wonder and respect by the learned,
would alone have been sufficient to establish the fame of its royal
promoter; but numerous other works of scarcely less importance survive
to attest his patronage of letters. The Coronica General de España,
composed by his own hand; the Cantigas, poems in honor of the Virgin;
the Siete Partidas, a comprehensive code of laws which has been
extensively used in the classification and compilation of subsequent
systems of jurisprudence; the Del Tesoro, a book on the transmutation
of metals,--all demonstrate the extent of his information, the
tirelessness of his industry, and the fertility of his genius. Perhaps
the greatest of his achievements was the legal adoption of a provincial
dialect in public documents, which time and practice developed into the
musical and sonorous Castilian language. His devotion to literature was
only exceeded by the admiration he entertained for its professors. He
endowed with rich estates many chairs in the University of Salamanca.
He elevated judges eminent for legal attainments to aristocratic rank.
Ever ready to recognize his obligations to his early instructors
and his recent friends, he bestowed honor, wealth, distinction upon
all scholars, irrespective of nationality or creed. The Moors were
always the objects of his especial favor. To their inspiration he was
indebted for the noble impulse and example which had first directed
his attention to learning; through their teachings he had imbibed the
maxims of justice and wisdom; from their labors he was to derive,
in coming centuries, the greatest credit and most enduring glory
of his reign. The Moorish financier was not infrequently intrusted
with the collection and expenditure of the revenues; the Moorish
physician was a prominent figure at the Castilian court, where even the
luxurious prelate, abominating the meagre fare of the cloister, did
not hesitate to intrust his sacred person to his care; the Moorish
professor domiciled in the palaces of the aristocracy directed the
education of the most illustrious of the Castilian youth. Well was it
for King Alfonso that the Church had not yet attained that position
of security and power which justified the exertion of force for the
maintenance and extension of its rule. But even in the subordinate
relation it sustained to the state, in comparison with the prestige
attaching to military success, its influence was well to be dreaded.
It was the intrigues of the clergy appealing to the hereditary and
martial pride of the nobles and inflaming the discontent of the people
that promoted the unworthy ambition of Don Sancho, thus weakening
the regal authority, anticipating the succession, and degrading the
dignity of the throne. The implacable spirit of religious hatred was
not yet strong enough to send its victims to the stake, confiscate
their property, and brand their names with infamy; but it was able
to interfere successfully in political affairs, and to humiliate a
sovereign whose chief offences were that he had patronized profane
learning, lived in intimacy with infidels, and, worst of all, extorted
from the Church a portion of its wealth for the defence of his kingdom
and the preservation of public security.

The news of the death of Alfonso X. was received with every
manifestation of sorrow and regret throughout the Moorish dominions.
The Emirs of Granada and Morocco hastened to send embassies to his
successor, Sancho el Bravo, to tender condolence and solicit the
continuance of peace and national friendship. To the compliments and
sympathy of the former he returned a courteous but ambiguous answer,
but the envoys of the Emir of Morocco were insulted with a message
of defiance. Justly incensed by this treatment, the Emir Abu-Yusuf
prepared for war. A considerable body of troops under his son Yakub
was despatched across the strait, and Xerez was besieged. The approach
of a great Castilian army caused the retreat of the invaders, and a
truce for three years was agreed upon, for which the African prince
paid two million maravedis of gold.

The new king was the moral antipodes of his father. His title, El
Bravo, gained in battle while prince, indicated his claim to the
respect and admiration of his subjects. Ignorant, bigoted, and cruel,
he represented in every respect the spirit and aspirations of the age
in which he lived. His dominating impulse was the love of war. He
drove from the court the Moorish savants whose relations with Alfonso
X. had brought suspicion on his orthodoxy and scandal on his name.
The clergy, partly on account of the aid they had contributed to the
faction of Sancho, but principally because they alone, of the different
orders of the state, possessed the requisite knowledge and ability,
were intrusted with the collection of tribute and the management of
the royal treasury. But while the King favored the ecclesiastic, he
jealously guarded the privileges of the nobility and the prerogatives
of the crown. The highest rewards were reserved for military prowess.
The pursuits of literature were discouraged and neglected. The
intellectual development of the nation, begun under such happy auspices
by Alfonso X., was arrested, never again to be revived, and soon to be
absolutely crushed by theological intolerance and inquisitorial tyranny.

The enterprising genius of Sancho, occupied by internal disturbances,
was not exerted against his African enemy until seven years had elapsed
after the signing of the truce. Then a quarrel between Yusuf-Abu-Yakub
and Mohammed II., again the ally of Castile, afforded a pretext
for interference. The city of Tarifa, inferior only in strategical
importance to Algeziras and Gibraltar, was taken from the Africans.
Its defences were repaired, and it was garrisoned by a strong force
commanded by Alfonso Perez de Guzman, a soldier of fortune, who had
amassed great wealth in the service of the Emir of Morocco, and to
whom the modern princely house of Medina-Sidonia owes its origin and
much of its renown. A year afterwards the Infante Don Juan, brother of
the King, after an unsuccessful attempt to seize the throne, fled to
the court of the Emir of Morocco. Received with honor and intrusted
with a force of five thousand African cavalry, he undertook to reduce
Tarifa. The governor treated with defiance the demand of surrender.
His son, a youth of tender years, had been captured by the enemy, and,
with the expectation that paternal tenderness would prove stronger
than loyalty to his country, the Infante sent word to the Castilian
commander that unless he immediately evacuated the city the boy’s life
would be sacrificed. The intrepid governor, in reply, cast a sword
from the battlements; the unfortunate youth was decapitated, and his
head shot into the town from a catapult. This inhuman action committed
by a Christian prince, which indicates the barbarous character of the
warfare pursued in those times, was as unwise as it was unpardonable;
far from being intimidated, the garrison was impelled by horror and
resentment to resist more vigorously, and the siege was soon raised by
the approach of an army of Castilians and Moors.

The precarious alliance between Christian and Moslem, whose conditions
were almost always unfavorable to the latter, not long afterwards
sustained another rupture. Involved in a serious controversy with
the nobles, who, rendered more arrogant by the increased importance
they had acquired in the beginning of the present reign, menaced the
security of the throne, Sancho, unable to protect his frontiers, saw
them desolated with impunity by the cavalry of Mohammed, who had
taken advantage of the embarrassment of his enemy to again inaugurate
hostilities. Appeasing by timely concessions the discontent of his
vassals, the King of Castile marched into Granada; stormed Quesada
and Alcaudete, whose inhabitants he massacred without pity; spread
devastation over the surrounding country, and, with a long train of
captives and much booty, returned to his dominions. This exploit was
the final one of his career. Consumed by a lingering and painful
disease, he died, leaving to his infant heir an inheritance of domestic
trouble and an unstable throne, which even monarchs of mature age and
great experience had found it a difficult task to defend.

The minority of an infant prince, the difficulties of a disputed
regency, the feuds of a jealous aristocracy, the intrigues of rival
pretenders, and the murmurs of a discontented populace--always the
victims of the quarrels, the triumphs, or the misfortunes of their
superiors--afforded a tempting opportunity to the Emir of Granada, of
which he was not slow to take advantage. His preparations completed, he
first recaptured the towns lost in the last expedition, and retaliated
on the unfortunate garrisons the treatment which his own subjects had
received.

Flushed with success, he overran almost the whole of Andalusia,
burnt the suburbs of many cities, stormed the castle of Belmar, and
threatened Jaen and Tarifa. The unprofitable experience of the Emir of
Morocco with his dependencies in Spain induced him to offer to Mohammed
the fortress of Algeziras, for which he received a hundred thousand
mithcals of gold.

Mohammed II. did not long survive his last and greatest foray. He
is said to have died while in the performance of his devotions; his
reign of thirty years is one of the most important of the time, and
his kingdom, consolidated alike by his victories and the reverses
sustained by his neighbors, who by tens of thousands settled in
his dominions, descended to his son Mohammed III., a prince whose
character and accomplishments were not inferior to his distinguished
lineage. His administration--a series of disasters, conspiracies,
and assassinations--he made illustrious by his love of erudition,
his encouragement of the arts, and the embellishment of his capital.
His industry was so great that he prolonged far into the night the
unfinished business of the day. He displayed great vigor in crushing
the rebellious spirit of the wali of Guadix, who refused to recognize
his authority. By the capture of Ceuta he obtained a great treasure,
which he worthily expended in the improvement of his kingdom. Among the
buildings constructed by its aid were numbered the Great Mosque and
the principal public bath of the city. The mosque, upon whose site now
stands the cathedral of Granada, was famous for its magnificent columns
of marble and jasper, its ornamentation of fretted silver, and its
brilliant and intricate mosaics. An additional tax for the support of
the bath, which scarcely yielded to the mosque in expense of materials
and beauty of design, was levied upon the Jews and Christians, who
were thus compelled to contribute to the revenues of an institution
connected with the worship of their infidel masters, and one to which
the latter sect had always exhibited a decided and unconquerable
aversion.

In 1305, Suleyman-Ibn-Rabich, wali of Almeria, instigated by the
Aragonese, aspired to independence. Seized before his plans were
matured, he escaped with difficulty to the court of Barcelona. An
understanding having been perfected between the Kings of Castile and
Aragon, simultaneous attacks were made upon the Moorish dominions. A
powerful Aragonese fleet and army appeared before Almeria and invested
it by land and sea. At the same time the forces of Castile laid siege
to Algeziras, which Mohammed endeavored to relieve, but was prevented
by a succession of destructive tempests and floods.

Informed of the weak condition of Gibraltar, a body of troops was
detached from the army besieging Algeziras to surprise it. The attempt
was successful; by the aid of cannon a breach was opened; the defences
were stormed, and the famous fortress whose Moslem occupation dated
from the invasion of Tarik passed for the time from the hands of the
Saracens, by whom it was commonly regarded as the key of the Peninsula.

The siege of Algeziras was now pushed with increased vigor, and
Mohammed, apprehensive of the results of the Aragonese invasion as well
as of a conspiracy formed by malcontents in his own capital, offered
proposals for peace. His overtures were heard with attention, but
important and degrading concessions were demanded by the victorious
enemy, who, well aware of the extremity to which the garrison was
reduced, determined to exact an enormous compensation for raising the
siege. No alternative but acceptance remained for the unfortunate
Emir. The frontier towns of Quesada, Bedmar, Quadros were surrendered
as an equivalent for the continued possession of Algeziras, and the
Moorish inhabitants retired. Their houses were occupied by Christian
colonists, the fruits of the last victorious campaign of Mohammed II.
were lost, and the humiliated sovereign returned to his capital amidst
the whispered murmurs of the nobility and the public execration of an
exasperated populace. He had now to confront a new peril, more to be
feared than the weapons of an enterprising and courageous enemy.

The court had long been distracted by the intrigues of the rival
viziers, Abu-Sultan-Aziz, who had been the trusted councillor of
Mohammed II., and Abd-al-Rahman-al-Ramedy, the favorite of the present
emir, who had profited by his opportunities to amass a great fortune,
enabling him to display an ostentation offensive to the pride of the
nobles and arousing the envy of the people. The growing unpopularity
of Mohammed III., his failing eyesight,--the result of immoderate
sensuality,--his enforced surrender of the territory acquired by
the talents of his father, and the universal hatred of his arrogant
minister culminated in an attack upon the throne. His uncle, Al-Nazer,
was proclaimed by the mob of Granada, which, suddenly rising in
arms, pillaged the palace of the detested vizier and murdered him
in the presence of his master. In the midst of the tumult, the Emir
was confronted by the leaders of the revolt, who offered him the
alternative of abdication or death. Forced to divest himself of the
insignia of royal authority, the deposed sovereign was imprisoned
in the fortress of Almuñecar, where for five years he languished in
solitude and wretchedness.

The Moorish chroniclers paint in the most glowing colors the virtues,
the talents, the accomplishments of Al-Nazer. In him the fortuitous
advantages of birth and comeliness were far surpassed by noble and
brilliant qualities of mind. His courteous condescension and the
charming affability of his manners endeared him to his subjects, while
his erudition and taste for scientific pursuits made him the welcome
associate of the learned and philosophical society of the capital.
His opinions had been formed and his education conducted under the
most famous professors of the age. An excellent mathematician, an
experienced astronomer, he had calculated and drawn up astronomical
tables not inferior in accuracy to those executed by the chosen
scholars acting under the directions of Alfonso X. With a special
bent for mechanics, he designed and constructed a curious clock,
whose complex and perfect mechanism surprised and delighted even
those familiar with the capabilities of his inventive genius. Under
his liberal and discerning protection, literature and the elegant
arts received a new and enduring importance; institutions of learning
were multiplied, innumerable philosophical and scientific works were
issued, the physicians and pharmacists of Granada, already famous in
Europe for their skill, acquired new laurels in the distant empires of
Africa and Asia, and the public and private edifices of the capital
began to assume that distinctive character of architectural symmetry
and elegance which subsequently enabled it to attain to an unrivalled
eminence among the cities of the mediæval world.

On learning of the revolution by which Mohammed had been deposed,
Ferdinand IV. marched against the usurper, and sent reinforcements to
Jaime II., who, separated from his base of supplies, harassed by an
active and vigilant enemy, and drenched by storms and inundations,
still obstinately maintained his ground before the walls of Almeria. In
the mean time, the troubles incident to a title acquired by sedition
and violence afflicted the new emir. His nephew, born and bred amidst
insurrection, tried unsuccessfully to seize the crown, and, having fled
to Malaga, was protected by his father, wali of that city, himself not
destitute of royal aspirations. A sudden attack of illness having given
rise to a rumor of the death of Al-Nazer, the partisans of Mohammed
III. assembled, rescued him from his prison in Almuñecar, and escorted
him with every token of ostentatious loyalty to the capital. On their
arrival, they perceived with surprise that the city was illuminated,
the streets were full of people in holiday garb, the shops were
closed, the houses decorated with flowers, and everything bore the
appearance of a public festival. An inquiry revealed the fact that the
illness of the Emir had in reality been but trifling and temporary,
and that these manifestations of popular satisfaction were caused by
his unexpected recovery. It required all the astuteness and ingenuity
of the banished prince to frame an excuse for his sudden appearance
at the head of a royal escort, but the wily Mohammed did not shrink
from the responsibility. After proffering his congratulations, he
announced that he had merely come to inquire after the health of his
uncle--an explanation which was received by Al-Nazer with outward
respect and secret indignation. Dissembling his resentment, he ordered
the crestfallen Mohammed to be taken back to his prison, where the
enthusiastic partisans who had prematurely espoused his cause were
forced to share his captivity.

The sudden death of Ferdinand IV., which took place during an
expedition into the province of Jaen, left the destinies of the
Castilian monarchy in the hands of an infant of thirteen months, who
afterwards became king under the name of Alfonso XI., offered new
temptations to rival aspirants to the regency, removed the salutary
restraints of law, and abandoned whole districts to anarchy. Civil
war raged between the numerous factions into which the nobility was
divided--the weaker being often exterminated and their possessions
confiscated by the victors; cavaliers of noble birth and distinguished
ancestry embraced the profession of robbery; to travel without an armed
escort was to invite certain destruction; the roads were encumbered
with naked and festering corpses; unfortified towns were deserted, and
the castles were occupied by aristocratic highwaymen, who, at the head
of bands of adventurers of merciless character and desperate fortunes,
swept into their inaccessible strongholds the merchandise of the
trader, the effects of the traveller, and the harvests, the flocks,
and the children of the shepherd and the husbandman. Existence was
impossible without the protection of some powerful noble, whose livery
was to one faction an object of respect and to all others a symbol of
irreconcilable enmity.

Nor was the spirit of discord which infected every class of society
more considerate of the rights and authority of the sovereign. The
ministers of justice were ridiculed and defied, and the will of the
most powerful chieftain in the locality where he was obeyed was
practically the law of the land. Superstitious awe and the venerable
traditions of the Church, for the most part, preserved intact her
princely possessions, but during the disastrous turbulence of the
period the defenceless ecclesiastic not infrequently paid tribute to
the outlaw, and the mitre fared sometimes even worse than the crown.

A country abandoned to violence must necessarily soon be depopulated.
Once fertile and highly cultivated regions became a desert, forests
sprang up on the sites of deserted hamlets, the commerce of great
cities disappeared, intercommunication of adjoining provinces was
entirely suspended, heirs of magnificent estates renounced their
patrimony, and the sense of public insecurity was so universal that
thousands of families in every part of the kingdom sought refuge from
their countrymen in the more peaceful states of Portugal and Aragon.
Such were the conditions which afforded another respite to the Emirate
of Granada, whose existence was thus continually prolonged by the
dissensions and the weakness of its barbarous neighbors.

The manifestations of disloyalty and turbulence which thus afflicted
the kingdom of Castile were repeated in Granada, without, however,
producing the same destructive and permanent effects upon the
authority of the government or the welfare of the nation. The
successful usurpation of Al-Nazer, demonstrating the weakness of
hereditary attachments and the facility with which an unpopular
sovereign might be deposed, was an example not lost upon the
adventurous and aspiring Moorish nobles. The death of Mohammed III.,
which occurred a few months after his return to Almuñecar, relieved
Al-Nazer from all apprehensions of a rival, who, if not formidable
through his talents and influence, had at least a legitimate claim upon
the throne and a share of the public sympathy, which is always aroused
by the sight of royal humiliation and of greatness in distress. But
there soon arose a far more dangerous enemy of the peace of Al-Nazer.
Secure from Christian interference,--for he had concluded a truce with
the regents of Castile,--he was employing his leisure in the elegant
amusements of the court, when his nephew Abu-al-Walid, also called
Ismail by the Moslem historians, fomented a second insurrection, this
time with greater success. The avarice of an unpopular vizier was
again made the pretext for sedition. The populace was instigated by
the emissaries and corrupted by the gold of Abu-al-Walid, the promised
dismissal of the obnoxious minister was deferred, and, supported by a
formidable army, the young prince advanced on Granada. The numbers of
his force increased as he approached the city, when his adherents rose
and drove the Emir into the Alhambra, where he was at once besieged. In
his extremity, the latter implored the aid of the Castilian regents,
the Infantes Don Pedro and Don Juan; but, before they could assemble
their troops, the defection of his partisans induced him to abdicate
and to accept, in return for this concession, the government of the
insignificant principality of Guadix. An attempt to revive the fallen
fortunes of Al-Nazer, projected by the regents of Castile, resulted in
a fatal disaster to the Christian arms. The invaders, encompassed by
a multitude of Moslems, were cut to pieces on the slope of the Sierra
Elvira, where the flower of the Spanish chivalry, who had joined the
enterprise, animated by religious enthusiasm and the expectation of
booty and renown, was annihilated. After the battle the bodies of
the two princes were found under heaps of fallen enemies, and the
condition of the Castilian monarchy, deprived at one blow of its legal
protectors, became more desperate than ever. This great victory was not
less remarkable for its political results than for the spoil obtained
by the Moors. Forty-three thousand pounds of gold, fourteen hundred of
silver, and seven thousand prisoners fell into their hands. The skin
of Don Pedro, stuffed with cotton, was suspended before the principal
gate of Granada, where it remained for many years. Twenty-five princes
of the blood--heads of the most noble houses of the Peninsula--were
killed in the action. The prestige of Ismail was greatly increased by
this important victory. His military ambition was inflamed by success.
He surprised some isolated castles and took others by assault, the
spoils of the frontier were swept away by sudden incursions, and the
borders of Aragon, long exempt from the dreaded visitations of the Arab
horsemen, experienced once more the ruinous effects of their audacity
and valor.

Through detailed information furnished by spies and merchants, the
feuds and intrigues of the Castilian court, distracted by the weakness
of the crown and the unprincipled ambition of the nobles, were as well
known at Granada as in the council chambers of Toledo and Seville.
Successful in his marauding expeditions, Ismail now directed his
attention to projects of greater importance, whose accomplishment
was certain to produce a substantial and permanent accession to the
territory and wealth of his kingdom. Provided with every appliance
at that time known to warfare, he laid siege to the important and
well-fortified city of Baza, June 23, 13824. Its situation, strong by
nature, had been rendered doubly formidable by art. The genius of the
Moor, whose confidence was placed in the swift and unexpected movements
of his cavalry, had hitherto not exhibited the patience and endurance
necessary for the successful prosecution of besieging operations. But
under the skilful dispositions of Ismail, the investment of Baza was
made with all the thoroughness and deliberation which characterize
the movements of the accomplished military engineer. A ditch was
excavated, a rampart was thrown up, and all intercourse with the
surrounding country intercepted. The inhabitants, confident in the
security of their massive fortifications, viewed with curiosity rather
than apprehension the mounting of a number of strange but apparently
harmless machines before the walls. These appeared to consist of
segmented bars of iron united by heavy hoops of the same metal. Dragged
from place to place by means of ropes, their immense weight was
indicated by the number of men it took to move them; they evidently
contained no apparatus for missiles like the familiar balista or
catapult, and their use was a mystery to the unconcerned inhabitants.
But suddenly from the mouths of these apparently innocuous engines
issued great bursts of flame and smoke, accompanied by a roar that
rivalled that of the thunderbolt, and ponderous balls of stone and of
iron, hurled into the city, crushing and splintering everything in
their path, announced what has been erroneously stated as the first
use of artillery in the wars of Europe. Against the force of these
projectiles, whose novelty increased the terror their destruction
inspired, the boasted strength of the defences and the courage of the
garrison availed nothing. Great breaches soon appeared in the walls,
and with the towers crumbling over their heads and many of their houses
in flames, the panic-stricken citizens of Baza, by a timely surrender,
succeeded in saving their city from pillage.

During the following year Martos experienced a similar fate, but its
resistance was more obstinate, and the exasperated Moslems, entering
the town by storm, massacred the inhabitants to a man. The prayers
enjoined by the Koran were offered by the victors kneeling upon
pavements reeking with the blood of the slain; the peasants, for a
distance of many miles, were driven away into captivity; innumerable
flocks and herds attested the activity of the Arab cavalry; and Ismail
retraced his steps to his capital, which he entered with all the pomp
of a conqueror. It was long since Granada had witnessed such a scene
or extended such a welcome at the return of a victorious army. The
streets were carpeted with flowers. Tapestries and hangings of silk
and cloth-of-gold were suspended from the balconies. The air was
fragrant with perfumes wafted from hundreds of censers. The beautiful
city, given over to a holiday, had sent forth its entire population
to celebrate the triumph of its sovereign. The acclamations of the
people, rising in a prolonged and deafening roar, were heard beyond the
walls. Vast throngs in holiday dress blocked the narrow thoroughfares.
Peasants in the picturesque costumes of the Vega, sturdy mountaineers
from the Sierra Nevada and the Alpujarras, the taciturn Jew in the
distinctive yellow gaberdine of his sect, the pilgrim of Mecca clad in
green, the cavalier in helmet and cuirass inlaid with gold, the ladies
in gaudy silks and gleaming jewels, whose splendor contributed little
to the native charms of their voluptuous beauty, enhanced the variety
and charm of the spectacle.

But a threatening cloud, the more dangerous because unseen, hung over
this gorgeous festival, which seemed to promise a long life of honor
and renown to the recipient of a nation’s applause and gratitude.
Three days after his triumph Ismail lay a corpse in the palace of the
Alhambra.

Among the captives taken in the campaign of Martos was a girl of
dazzling beauty. Her possession was disputed by several soldiers, whose
hands, bloody with the carnage of a city taken by storm, were about to
sacrifice her, when she was rescued by Mohammed-Ibn-Ismail, a cousin of
the Emir. No sooner had the latter learned of the occurrence and of the
extraordinary charms of the captive than he despatched the eunuchs to
conduct her to the royal harem. The just remonstrances of Mohammed were
treated with contempt. Not satisfied with the injury he had inflicted,
Ismail ordered his cousin to leave the precincts of the court, and
curtly informed him that his proper place was with the enemies of his
sovereign. The exasperated prince, who had already signalized his
valor in many a campaign, whose blood had been shed in defence of his
country, whose birth exalted him to a level with the throne itself,
and whose sense of justice revolted at the unprovoked outrage he had
endured, had no inconsiderable following among the dignitaries of the
palace and the officers of the army.

A few hours sufficed to mature a plot; the support of Othman, commander
of the royal guard, was obtained, and the conspirators only awaited
a moment favorable to the execution of their design. The Emir,
walking with his vizier in the gallery of the Alhambra and wholly
unsuspicious of danger, was stabbed by Mohammed; the resolute defence
of the minister availed nothing in the face of superior numbers, and
he perished by the side of his master, while the assassins, who had
previously provided means of concealment, escaped in the general
confusion.

The wounded monarch was borne into the palace, where he soon expired.
His death was concealed--his injuries were even represented as
trifling--until, in anticipation of a fatal result and to secure the
succession, allegiance was sworn to his son, a youth of twelve years,
who ascended the throne under the name of Mohammed IV. The diligence
of the second vizier apprehended a number of the conspirators, whose
heads were exposed on the battlements of the castle. The treacherous
Othman was foremost in protestations of loyalty and devotion to the new
ruler. The chief assassin fled to Malaga, and the ill-concerted and
bloody enterprise dictated by wrong and accomplished by cowardice was
productive of no other result than a change of rulers and an increased
public attachment to the family of the murdered king.

The character of the latter was worthy of the great place he occupied
and of the glorious traditions of his dynasty. His personal courage and
success in war won for him the affectionate admiration of his people.
His intervals of peace were diligently employed in the construction
of mosques and palaces, of baths and fountains. He exercised with
liberality and discrimination the distribution of alms, as enjoined
by the Koran. The hanging gardens planted under his supervision
were copied from those of ancient Babylon. The police regulations
inaugurated by him established the safety of the streets and suburbs
by day and night; for the better apportionment and collection of
taxes the cities were divided into different quarters, and the alien
tributaries designated by distinctive costumes. He sternly repressed
the fanaticism of the theologians, ever a prolific source of public
anxiety, disturbance, and confusion. The leisure moments of Ismail were
passed in the society of the learned, in the tournament and the chase,
in the pleasures of horticulture, in the construction of magnificent
edifices.

The youth and inexperience of Mohammed IV. were supplied by the
political sagacity of his vizier Al-Mahruk, a man of ability but of
inordinate ambition, and absolutely unscrupulous in the means of
gratifying it. His policy, solely directed to the centralization of
power in himself, was the ultimate cause of his destruction. He lost
no opportunity to humiliate the nobles. The brothers of the Emir were,
in turn, removed from the court; one, upon some frivolous pretext, was
imprisoned in Almeria, where he died; another was exiled to Africa;
a third was forced to seek concealment in a remote village on the
frontier. The jealous intolerance of the vizier endeavored to remove
every possibility of a successful rival. The possession of eminent
talents and virtues was a provocation of oppression; the most able and
experienced statesmen and commanders, apprehensive of violence, left
the capital, and a feeling of alarm and discontent became general in
every quarter of the kingdom.

This state of affairs, so dangerous to the stability of government and
the maintenance of peace, lasted until the young prince arrived at
the age of sixteen years, when Moslem custom permitted his assumption
of the reins of government. One of his first acts was the degradation
and imprisonment of the obnoxious minister. In his place was appointed
Ibn-Yahya, who enjoyed the respect and confidence of all classes, and
whose judicious counsels were well calculated to guide the career
of a young, ambitious, and inexperienced sovereign. Othman, the
former commander of the royal guard, whom disappointed ambition, a
consciousness of guilt, and the fear of detection had driven from
Granada, now planned a new enterprise to retrieve his fallen fortunes.
At his instigation the peasantry of the rugged district of Andarax
rose in rebellion. The insurgents were defeated by the forces of the
Emir, but the mountainous region they infested, and whose fastnesses
the royal troops were unable to penetrate, prevented their dispersion.
The intrigues of Othman obtained at once the interference of the
Castilians and of the Emir of Morocco. Again the aid of foreign enemies
was invoked to revive the hopes of a defeated faction; the patriotic
ardor which might have preserved the declining empire was sacrificed to
the gratification of private resentment; and the ablest of the Moors,
unwilling to profit by the melancholy lessons taught by the history of
the khalifate, renounced every noble impulse for the sake of avenging
their private injuries.

In the vicinity of Cordova the army of Mohammed sustained a disastrous
defeat; the survivors retreated to Granada; and the Emir, infuriated
by the reflection that the imprisoned vizier Al-Mahruk was indirectly
responsible for the misfortunes which afflicted the commencement of
his reign, commanded his immediate execution. The efforts of Mohammed
to counteract the African influence enlisted by the rebels met with
no better success. Algeziras was stormed and taken, and the vizier
Ibn-Yahya was killed in the assault. Ronda and Marbella fell into
the hands of the rebels, who soon threatened the city of Granada
itself. Consternation seized the inhabitants of the capital; and
Mohammed, assembling the remains of his defeated army and attended by
the principal cavaliers of the court, went forth to meet the enemy.
Gallantly seconded by his nobles, at the head of a force insignificant
in numbers but remarkable for courage and resolution, he speedily
recovered his prestige and his influence. All the cities captured
by the Africans were retaken. The stronghold of Baena surrendered.
The walls of Casares were destroyed by artillery. Within sight of the
latter city the Moslems, in a bloody encounter, destroyed a Christian
force sent to relieve it. Thus, within the space of a few months,
Mohammed counteracted the effect of the recent disasters to his arms,
restored to his dominions the territory of which treason had deprived
him, and acquired new renown by a victory gained over an army superior
in numbers and thoroughly versed in all the stratagems and resources
of regular and partisan warfare. These military exploits firmly
established his reputation. No prince of the Alhamares, of his years,
ever achieved such celebrity. Nature had bestowed upon him every gift
of mind and person which could elicit the approbation of the wise or
arouse the enthusiasm of the multitude. His face was handsome, his
stature above the middle height, his limbs models of athletic symmetry.
Skilled in every exercise, he delighted in those passages of arms so
popular among the Moorish chivalry. Prominent in a nation of bold and
dexterous horsemen, he was universally accounted the finest lance in
the Moslem army. Grave in demeanor, pleasing in address, elegant in
manners, his attractive exterior only served to enhance the noble
traits of a virtuous and enlightened mind. He was a friend of letters;
and learned men accompanied him during his expeditions, who could
observe the course of events and perpetuate the remembrance of such
facts as might contribute to the profit of the country and the glory of
its king.

In the ever-changing panorama of the Reconquest there frequently
appears the Moslem of Africa, descendant of the Almoravide or the
Almohade dynasties; proud of the fame of his ancestors, and perpetual
claimant of the legacy of their valor; as ambitious of the regaining
of Cordova and the purification of its desecrated temple as were his
contemporaries, the crusaders, of the conquest of Jerusalem and the
recovery of the Holy Sepulchre. The Emirs of Fez, of the family of
the Merynites, had risen to great distinction among the rulers of
Africa. Their dominions included the entire northern portion of that
continent. Their capital was the resort of all that was intelligent
and accomplished among the Mussulman nations. In the incessant
political disorders of the Peninsula, hundreds of merchants, scholars,
philosophers, had sought amidst the quiet and security of distant
regions that refuge from incessant revolution and Castilian conquest
no longer to be enjoyed at Granada. Not a few of these found their way
to Fez. Picturesque in its situation, the taste and liberality of its
rulers had made it a beautiful city. Its gardens, planted with every
variety of tropical plants and flowers, and refreshed by innumerable
fountains, offered a vision of Paradise to the tired and thirsty
wayfarer who had toiled for many leagues through the stifling heat and
drifting sands of the desert. A high degree of civilization had been
attained by the people of Morocco, who, with the natural inclination
of the Arab mind to scientific investigation and mathematical studies,
had made considerable progress in astronomy, chemistry, botany,
and medicine. Their efforts were materially aided by the precious
manuscripts once part of the great library of the khalifs, and the
treasures of private collections rescued from barbarian ignorance and
Christian bigotry during the destruction of the Ommeyade empire. To
Fez, where it was revered as a priceless relic, and where perhaps to
this day it is still preserved, was transported by the Almohades the
famous Koran, partly written by the hand of the martyred Othman, which
was formerly exposed for the veneration of the faithful in the Kiblah
of the Great Mosque of Cordova. Heedless of the change in national
conditions, of the decline of religious enthusiasm, of the decay of
that martial spirit which renders the fanatical soldier invincible,
the Emirs of Morocco never lost sight of their favorite project, the
recovery of Spain. Their repeated efforts for that end were rendered
inoperative by the religious feuds between their subjects and the
Andalusian Moslems; the resources of both kingdoms, which might have
been profitably exerted against the infidel, were wasted in the
infliction of mutual injuries; and the Castilian sovereigns, taking
advantage alternately of the animosities of either faction as best
suited their purposes, directed their arms against each other for their
common ruin.

In the year 1333, a body of Moorish cavalry, seven thousand strong,
under command of Abd-al-Melik, a prince of the blood, disembarked at
Algeziras. Invited by the rebels of Granada, and expected to unite with
the Castilian forces against Mohammed, their operations were begun in
an unexpected quarter. With a celerity that indicated the previous
arrangement of a well-conceived campaign, the invaders and their
countrymen of Algeziras invested Gibraltar. Considering the defences
of that fortress, greatly improved since the Castilian occupation,
the enterprise seemed hopeless. But either through the peculations
of the governor or from neglect of the court to provide the garrison
with supplies, the place was in a few weeks reduced to the greatest
distress. Deprived of all ordinary means of sustenance, the hungry
soldiers devoured the leather of their belts and bucklers. When too
late, the difficulty of the situation was realized. The selfish and
tyrannical policy of Alfonso XI. had alienated the attachment of his
subjects. The voluptuous King had lingered too long in the arms of
his mistresses, and the pugnacious nobility were engaged in gratifying
their hereditary grudges in the congenial occupation of private
war. Official incompetence and delay had prepared the way for great
disasters. The African fleet commanded the sea. No force available by
the Christians could dislodge from its intrenchments the well-appointed
army of Abd-al-Melik, with success within its grasp. The Castilian
princes, as well as the nobles, listened with haughty indifference
to the patriotic appeals of their sovereign. So low had the royal
authority fallen that some cavaliers of the highest rank disregarded
the peremptory messages of the crown; others demanded compensation
for contributing to the defence of their country. Alfonso, abandoned
by the nobles, found his only reliance in the uncertain and selfish
adherence of foreign soldiers of fortune, attracted to Spain by the
expectation of plunder; and in the co-operation of the grand-masters
of the military orders, who, compelled by their vows, furnished a
lukewarm and reluctant support to the throne. Long before the Castilian
army could arrive at Gibraltar, messengers brought the unwelcome news
of its surrender. The standards of the Prophet were raised, amid the
acclamations of the soldiery, upon the highest point of the citadel,
and the African vessels occupied the harbor. The garrison was suffered
to retire with the honors of war, and the exultant Moslems, intoxicated
by victory, already pictured to themselves the speedy recovery of the
seats of their ancestors and the revival of the ancient glories of the
khalifate.

The King of Castile, convinced that the Moors were not firmly enough
established in their new conquest to maintain a siege, pushed forward
to Gibraltar. Harassed by the enemy’s cavalry, his force reached its
destination after many conflicts of doubtful issue and unimportant
results, and the Africans were, in their turn, besieged. In their
exposed situation, with a vigilant enemy in their rear and the sea
patrolled by the African fleet, the Castilians endured unspeakable
hardships. The day was one incessant conflict, the night a succession
of alarms. The convoys were intercepted. Famine, with its attendant
horrors, stalked through the wretched camp. The faltering loyalty
and insufficient discipline of the troops encouraged desertion, and
the numbers of those spared by want and disease began to be sensibly
diminished. Many who fled from their standards encountered a more
deplorable fate, for none escaped the vigilance of the Moorish
scouting parties; and captives were so numerous that in the market
of Algeziras the choice of Christian slaves could be obtained for a
doubloon of gold. To add to the general distress, the Emir of Granada
was approaching at the head of a numerous body of troops with the
design of effecting a junction with Abd-al-Melik. At this critical
moment, when the Christian cause seemed all but lost, the course of
events was changed by one of those unexpected occurrences which,
while common in the annals of those times, is apparently inexplicable
unless attributed to the influence of the chivalrous instincts that
during the prosecution of the Moslem wars often changed ferocity into
courtesy and enmity into friendship. The narrow space which separated
the hostile camps was, according to the practice of the age, the scene
of many knightly encounters. As the result of one of these, proposals
of peace were offered and accepted, a truce of four years was signed,
and the enemies, who but a few hours before had fiercely contended
for each other’s destruction, now mingled together upon terms of
familiar intimacy. An interchange of presents took place between the
monarchs of Castile and Granada. The different degrees of civilization
existing in the two kingdoms, and the marked superiority of the
Moors in the knowledge and adaptation of the mechanical arts, are
disclosed by the accounts that have descended to us concerning this
exhibition of royal courtesy. The articles presented by the King of
Castile are scarcely alluded to by the ancient chroniclers. Had they
been objects of curiosity, elegance, or value, Castilian pride would
not have been silent concerning them. On the other hand, the gifts of
the Emir of Granada, their intrinsic worth, the excellence of their
workmanship, the number, variety, and setting of the jewels with which
they were adorned, are the subject of minute and accurate description.
They included splendid arms and armor; among them a helmet enriched
with rubies of extraordinary size, and a sword, with a damascened
blade of the finest temper, whose scabbard, formed of overlapping
plates of gold, was studded with magnificent topazes, sapphires, and
emeralds. Not the least remarkable of these articles of elegant luxury
were beautiful silks of many colors and pieces of cloth of gold. In
Granada, the manufacture of silk had long since reached perfection, a
considerable portion of the great bazaar of the capital was reserved
for its merchants, and the superior quality of its product had brought
it into great demand in every port accessible to commerce. In Castile,
distant scarcely a day’s journey, this fabric, not beyond the reach of
persons in moderate circumstances under the advanced civilization of
the Spanish Arabs, was practically unknown, and so far from being an
article of merchandise was an object of curiosity, and worth far more
than its weight in gold.

The ceremonies of the treaty ended with a banquet, and Mohammed,
forgetful or regardless of the prejudices of religion, accepted the
hospitality of the King of Castile. This concession to a Christian
misbeliever offended the bigotry of the Africans; the fancied
partiality shown to the Emir of Granada by his host was resented as
a national affront; and the ill-concealed mutual jealousy of the
rival sectaries of Islam was again emphasized by a bloody tragedy.
On his return to the camp, Mohammed was waylaid and slain by his
fierce and treacherous allies, who had so greatly profited by his aid,
and who could neither comprehend nor suffer the generous courtesy
which recognized the virtues of good faith and toleration even in
an hereditary foe. The Emir had scarcely breathed his last when the
vizier Redwan, by a bold stroke characteristic of the crooked methods
of Oriental politics, secured at the same time the public tranquillity
and the continuance of his own power. Hastening to Granada, he caused
Yusuf, the younger brother of Mohammed, to be proclaimed Emir, and
conducted him with a magnificent escort to the Moslem camp, where
allegiance was at once sworn to him by the army.

The year 1339 opened with extensive preparations for another African
invasion, whose object was avowedly the conquest of the entire
Peninsula. Every means to insure success was taken by the shrewd and
active Abul-Hassan, Sultan of Fez, whose talents had raised his empire
to the first rank among the Moslem powers of the West. Fanatical and
eloquent missionaries were despatched to preach the Holy War among the
wild tribes of the Desert. A treaty of alliance was concluded between
the Sultan and Jaime III., King of Majorca. The friendly relations
interrupted by the murder of an emir were resumed with Granada. For
the moment, the instinct of self-preservation and the interests of
a common faith outweighed national jealousy and the bitterness of
theological hatred. An innumerable army was raised and equipped. The
African navy, already more formidable than that of the enemy, was
greatly strengthened. The possession of Gibraltar and Algeziras
invited an enterprise which Moslem fanaticism easily persuaded itself
was practicable, and, in case of failure, afforded means of security
and retreat. Daily, for months, soldiers accompanied by their families
crossed the strait. The sagacity of Abul-Hassan convinced him that by
the presence of their wives and children the fidelity of the troops
would be confirmed, their valor animated, and their confidence in the
success of an undertaking, conducted with the sanction of religion,
fully assured. Great numbers of these armed colonists entered Granada,
where they were received with every evidence of consideration by Yusuf,
who saw, with great satisfaction, this important addition to the
military strength of his kingdom.

Information of these events, serious enough in themselves, and
doubtless much exaggerated by fear and ignorance, spread terror through
the realms of Portugal, Aragon, and Castile. The rivalry of the
monarchs, the enmity of the nobles, the ambition of the clergy, were,
for the time, laid aside in common apprehension of the approaching
deluge. The naval forces of the three kingdoms were united under
the command of the Castilian admiral, Don Geoffrey Tenorio. His
fleet consisted of but thirty-six vessels, ill-manned, imperfectly
equipped, and wholly unfitted to cope successfully with the swift
and well-appointed galleys of the Sultan of Fez. In the general
consternation, and to counteract the religious fervor of the Moslems,
the sanction of divine aid was solicited through the Pope, and the
Holy Father issued from Avignon a grant of plenary indulgence to all
Christians who should participate in the impending contest.

The commencement of hostilities, near the close of the year 1339,
was marked by a series of predatory expeditions, undertaken in turn
by each nation, and characteristic of the disorderly and indecisive
conflicts so popular in those times. After the capture of considerable
booty, the African general, Abd-al-Melik, encamped with the bulk of
his army in the plain of Pagana. The Christians, hastily assembled at
the summons of their lords and commanded by the heads of the noble
houses of Guzman and Ponce de Leon, names subsequently famous in the
conquest of Granada, by a forced march surprised the enemy’s camp.
Attacked in their tents, stupefied by slumber, and confounded by the
din of combat, the Moslems, incapable of either resistance or flight,
perished by thousands. Abd-al-Melik, pierced with many wounds, died
among the reeds of a neighboring stream where he had concealed himself.
The loss of the invaders exceeded ten thousand men, and a multitude of
captives were led away in chains. A treasure of great value was secured
by the victors; and the booty acquired in the last campaign, composed
principally of cattle and sheep, was retaken and appropriated for the
use of the Castilian army.

The effects of this brilliant exploit, in which were exhibited alike
the skill and prowess of the Castilian soldiery, were, as usual,
nullified by aristocratic jealousy and court intrigue. The signal
advantage obtained was not pursued; and the Moors, encouraged by the
want of spirit displayed by the enemy, were aroused to fresh exertions
by the consciousness of power and the mortification of defeat. Bent on
revenge, the Sultan, Abul-Hassan, redoubled his preparations for the
coming invasion. Every man subject to his authority throughout his vast
dominions was enlisted. The ports of Northern Africa resounded with the
din incident to the repairs and the equipment of the fleet. The Sultan
himself superintended the embarkation of the troops at Ceuta, and
assumed command of the expedition. The Moorish armament, comprising
two hundred and ten vessels, of which more than seventy were galleys
of war, finally sailed from Ceuta; and the Moorish host, nearly two
hundred thousand strong, landed without accident at Gibraltar and
Algeziras. Every resource at the command of Abul-Hassan had been
employed to collect, and to provide with munitions of war, this immense
body of men. All the most powerful motives which actuate the human mind
had united to further the project of invasion,--royal ambition, private
vengeance, the admonition of religious duty, the thirst of empire,
the hope of Paradise. For nearly two centuries so formidable a force
had not threatened the Christian domination in the Peninsula. It was
not without reason that the number of pilgrims to famous shrines was
quadrupled; that the intervention of local saints was invoked in every
hamlet; that the terrified inhabitants of Andalusia asked themselves if
the inheritance of their fathers, won foot by foot from the infidel,
was to be wrested from their hands at one blow by the barbarians of
Africa; if the cathedral of Cordova, that priceless trophy of conquest,
still existing in all its pristine beauty and consecrated to the
worship of God, should once more be occupied by the slaves of the
Arabian Prophet.

The enemy’s fleet had passed the strait during the night, apparently
through the supineness of the Spanish admiral, whose inferior force,
however, could not have even delayed its progress; but, from this
apparent neglect of duty, a rumor arose that Don Geoffrey Tenorio,
one of the most honorable and high-spirited of men, had betrayed his
trust for a bribe. Stung to the quick by the unjust imputation, the
brave soldier ordered his ships to prepare for battle. His adversaries
outnumbered him three to one, and no courage or dexterity could
compensate for the disadvantage of position or the disparity of
numbers. The conflict was short and bloody. The Christian admiral,
after a desperate struggle on the deck of his ship, fell sword in hand;
the majority of the Christian vessels were taken or sunk; and only
five succeeded in reaching the harbor of Tarifa. Abul-Hassan, from the
loftiest minaret of Ceuta, witnessed the victory which established his
maritime supremacy in the Western Mediterranean, and destroyed for
nearly a generation the naval power of the kingdom of Castile.

In September, 1340, the Sultan of Fez formally assumed command of his
troops at Algeziras. Not long afterwards the army of Granada, commanded
by Yusuf, arrived, and the long-expected campaign began in earnest.
The chronicles of the time differ greatly in their numerical estimates
of the allied host. That it was very large, however, does not admit
of doubt, and, even after due allowance for priestly exaggeration
and Castilian gasconade, it would seem to have exceeded two hundred
and fifty thousand men. Of these, nearly a hundred thousand were
Mauritanian and Granadan horsemen, the finest light-armed cavalry
in the world. The military skill which disposed of this great force
corresponded in no degree with the irresistible power it was capable
of exerting if intelligently directed. The most obvious course would
have been to advance rapidly into the country of the enemy, already
paralyzed with fear at its approach, and bring about an engagement
before the Christians were fully prepared. The capture of Tarifa was,
however, in the eyes of the two sovereigns, a more certain advantage
than the precarious issue of a pitched battle on their own ground
with the redoubtable chivalry of Castile, and, in consequence of
their determination, a line of intrenchments was drawn around that
city. It is uncertain whether any incentive other than mere caprice
influenced the Moslem commanders in their decision. Tarifa was a place
of comparatively small strategic value. So long as the more important
fortresses of Gibraltar and Algeziras remained in the hands of the
Moslems, affording ready communication with the shores of Africa, no
material advantage could result from its possession. Its harbor was
neither extraordinarily safe nor commodious. While the country in its
vicinity was rich and fertile, its extent was not great enough to
justify the expenditure of any large amount of blood and treasure for
its subjection. And finally, the formidable character of the defences
of Tarifa, which had, upon more than one occasion, demonstrated that a
garrison insignificant in numbers could readily maintain its position
against an immense army, should have convinced the Moorish princes of
the difficulties to be encountered in its reduction, in addition to the
probabilities of ultimate disaster. The siege of the city, once decided
upon, was pushed with the utmost energy. Quantities of munitions of
war, provisions, the ponderous engines used in military operations,
and a few pieces of rude artillery were transported from Ceuta. The
Castilian galleys which endeavored to intercept these supplies were
wrecked by a tempest, and the sailors were killed by the enemy or
captured and compelled to renounce their religion. The apathy of the
Christians, partly the result of constitutional indifference, but
largely due to royal oppression, seemed about to abandon their country
to ruin. Alfonso XI., reduced to despair, convoked an assembly of the
grand masters of the military orders, the most eminent prelates, and
such of the principal nobles as he had not degraded, exiled, or put to
death. After a pathetic appeal to their patriotism, he deposited upon
a table his sword and crown, and, leaving with them these insignia
of royal dignity as mute representatives of his honor and distress,
he retired from the room. In the deliberations which followed, it
was resolved to at once attempt the relief of Tarifa, an undertaking
which, if successful, would avert a national misfortune. Every effort
was exerted to assemble an army. The nobles summoned their retainers
and vassals. The clergy proclaimed a crusade, raised the holy banner
blessed by the Pope, and inflamed the religious zeal of their audiences
by all the artifices of bigotry and all the powers of eloquence of
which they were masters. Appeals were made to the Kings of Aragon and
Portugal. A fleet of galleys was obtained from the Republic of Genoa, a
proceeding which utterly exhausted the already bankrupt treasury of the
kingdom, while the well-known duplicity of these mercenaries caused no
little apprehension lest their power might yet be turned against their
allies through the machinations of a rich and unscrupulous adversary.

After an investment of several weeks, after numerous assaults and
many stratagems, all of which were repulsed or foiled, the undaunted
garrison of Tarifa still maintained unimpaired the honor and reputation
of the Castilian arms. To this handful of heroic soldiers the prospect
was indeed discouraging. From the battlements of the castle, as far
as the eye could reach, could be descried the countless tents of the
besieging army. Amidst the coarse brown shelters of camel’s hair, the
home of the migratory Arab, appeared the more pretentious quarters of
the various division commanders, indicated by pennons of gaudy colors
and by patrols of heavily armed sentinels. On a slight eminence, in the
centre of the vast encampment, stood side by side the royal pavilions
of the Sultan, Abul-Hassan, and Yusuf, Emir of Granada. Embellished
with every adornment procurable by the boundless resources of wealth
and power, they were conspicuous from afar. Their material was blue
and crimson silk, profusely and elaborately embroidered. Globes of
silver surmounted the stakes which sustained their folds. Before the
tent of the Sultan of Fez waved the great standard of the Holy War,--of
green silk inscribed with passages from the Koran, and with the name
of Allah repeated hundreds of times in characters of gold. With armor
and weapons glittering with jewels, a numerous guard watched over the
safety of their sovereigns,--fierce warriors of the Zenetah, and of
the Beni-Saraj, those “Sons of the Saddler,” destined in after-years
to play a prominent part in the history of Granada, and whose valor,
amidst the sinking fortunes of the Moslem empire, sustained in many
sanguinary battles the reputation of their ancestry and the terror of
their name. Outside the harbor was ranged the hostile fleet, covering
the sea with its snowy sails; its gay ensigns emblazoned with the
devices of the commanders or with the mottoes of the Koran assumed as
their peculiar insignia by the princes of the House of Fez.

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.

The accession of his son Mohammed V. in the midst of peace seemed
to promise a long and happy reign. The Castilians were too busily
employed in fighting each other to concern themselves about their
Moslem neighbors. Their King, Pedro el Cruel, who considered a large
proportion of his subjects in the light of personal enemies, had
already, by his sanguinary measures, earned the ferocious appellation
by which he is known to posterity.

The new Emir possessed all the noble attributes which characterized
the most distinguished of his predecessors,--affability, generosity,
courage, solicitude for the happiness of his subjects, devotion to
letters. But his gentle disposition lacked the sternness and resolution
indispensable to a sovereign whose empire included so many discordant
national and political elements. Of simpler tastes than his father,
he at once banished from the precincts of the court that herd of
cringing parasites who live by flattery and corruption,--consumers
of the public revenues, ministers of pride and sensuality. In their
place he substituted a number of dignified and capable officials of
approved integrity and wide experience. This step, while it increased
the popular respect, created a number of treacherous and formidable
enemies, the effects of whose secret animosity were soon disclosed. The
generosity of Mohammed had assigned to his step-mother and her sons
as a residence the palace of the Alcazar, not far from the Alhambra,
and, while of less extent, almost rivalling it in beauty and splendor.
This woman, whose ambition was boundless, had permitted the thirst of
avarice to predominate over the natural sentiments of grief, and had
taken advantage of the confusion resulting from the assassination of
her husband to secretly abstract a large quantity of gold and jewels
from the public treasury. By means of this, with the design of raising
her eldest son Ismail to the throne, she corrupted princes of the
blood and representatives of powerful families, some of whom had been
driven from the court by the political reformation instituted by the
Emir. When the plot was ripe, a hundred picked men scaled the walls of
the Alhambra at night. The sentinels, unsuspicious of danger, were
killed at their posts. Distracted by the suddenness of the attack, and
deceived by the cries of the assailants and the movements of their
torches which magnified their numbers, the garrison fled. Oblivious of
the object of the enterprise, and tempted by the riches about them, the
insurgents at once gave themselves up to plunder. Through the devotion
of a favorite slave, Mohammed was provided with female clothing, and
escaped through one of the secret subterranean passages that connected
the Alhambra with the other royal abodes of the city. Swift horses
soon carried the fugitives to Guadix, whose loyalty was unshaken;
Ismail was proclaimed Emir, under the direction of his brother-in-law,
Abu-Said; and another revolution, with its train of evils--discontent,
proscription, confiscation, and wide-spread calamity--was inaugurated
to embitter the factions and undermine the power of the fair and
happy kingdom of Granada. The efforts of Mohammed to recover his
crown proving fruitless, he undertook a journey to Africa to enlist,
if possible, the sympathy and support of Abu-Selim, the Sultan of
Fez. Received with every courtesy, a large army was placed at his
disposal and transported to Andalusia; but the death of Abu-Selim, and
the accession of another prince, either neutral or unfriendly to the
aspirations of the dethroned sovereign, caused the recall of the troops
before they had begun operations. Thwarted thus by his allies, Mohammed
now had recourse to the King of Castile. His appeal was heard, and a
Christian army was assembled to effect his restoration. In the mean
time, the idle and voluptuous character of Ismail, combined with the
arbitrary assumption of authority by Abu-Said, had aroused the hatred
and contempt of his subjects. Those feelings were not diminished by
the bloody usurpation of Abu-Said, who caused the reigning prince and
his brothers to be murdered, and then took formal possession of the
throne which he had already occupied, so far as the actual government
of the kingdom was concerned. The Christian forces entered Granada;
the smaller towns at once signified their submission; there remained
nothing to be taken but the capital and its Vega; when Mohammed,
affected by the sight of the sufferings incident to the progress of
an invading army, abandoned his project, and requested the retirement
of his allies. Rather than inflict upon his people the misery which
must inevitably result from a siege of the capital by an army alien to
his people in nationality and religion, unrestrained by discipline,
and careless of the dictates of humanity or the usages of war, he was
prepared to renounce his royal inheritance.

Despite the discomfiture of his rival, the universal odium entertained
towards Abu-Said on account of his tyranny, as well as for his crimes,
rendered the stability of his power so uncertain that he determined to
temporarily abandon his kingdom. As a preliminary step, he restored,
without ransom and loaded with valuable gifts, a number of Castilian
cavaliers, including the brother-in-law of the King, all of whom
had been taken in a marauding expedition; and, in return for this
unusual generosity, requested their mediation to induce Pedro el Cruel
to espouse his cause. The daily increase of Mohammed’s influence,
the desertion of important cities, among them the stronghold of
Malaga, the treachery of his partisans, who, in increasing numbers,
constantly resorted to the hostile camp, determined Abu-Said to
confide no longer in the doubtful loyalty of his courtiers, tempted
by every consideration of personal interest and political advantage
to betray him. Attended by a considerable retinue of those who still
remained faithful to his decaying fortunes, he left his kingdom
and threw himself upon the royal honor and hospitality of Pedro el
Cruel at Seville. A more unfortunate and ill-timed resolution had
never been entertained by a despairing monarch. With an eye to future
contingencies, he had collected and taken with him all the wealth
which the treasury of Granada, depleted by continuous peculation,
mismanagement, and theft, contained. This, however inconsiderable when
compared with the riches of former times, was more than sufficient
to arouse the cupidity of a perfidious king, often almost reduced
to penury by extravagance, and absolutely unscrupulous as to the
means of supplying his necessities. The Moors, in the presence of a
hostile court, displayed with ostentatious profusion all the rare
and tempting objects of luxury so coveted by the poverty-stricken
Castilians,--horses of the finest Arabian blood; sumptuous housings
shining with gold and silver embroidery; lances, javelins, and
scimetars, elaborately inlaid, and set with jewels; coffers filled with
precious stones of extraordinary size and beauty--rubies, emeralds,
sapphires, pearls, and hyacinths; quantities of rich stuffs of silk
and cloth of gold. The apparel of the most plainly attired noble who
attended the exiled Moslem prince far surpassed in elegance and value
the garments of the Castilian sovereign. The effects of the folly
which permitted such a display by persons assuming the character of
suppliants soon became apparent. The King received his guests with
much ceremony and apparent cordiality. Abu-Said was lodged in the
Alcazar, as became his royal rank, and his attendants were distributed
through the Jewish Quarter, a locality near the palace and easily
accessible to the soldiery, which traversed by a labyrinth of narrow
and crooked lanes enclosed by lofty walls was a veritable prison from
which there was no escape. The resolution of Don Pedro had already
been taken. The sight of this great wealth within his grasp was too
much for his equanimity. It was true that the Moors were in his capital
under the royal safe-conduct, as well as with his personal assurance
of protection. It was notorious that the laws of hospitality were
respected by even the lowest races of men, and were by no people more
highly regarded than by the Arab ancestors of his guests. In a formal
audience, surrounded by all the evidences of civil pomp and military
array, he had solemnly pledged his word to carefully examine the
respective claims of the contestants for the throne of Granada, both
of whom acknowledged themselves his vassals, and to decide impartially
between them. These considerations, however, weighed but little with
the treacherous monarch. The fact that he was the suzerain of Abu-Said
afforded him a ready pretext for prompt and decisive action. Under
feudal law he could dispose of the property and life of an unfaithful
vassal. The Moslems, invited to a banquet, were seized by the guard.
All were searched, and the jewels and money concealed on their persons
confiscated. Thrown into prison, they remained for two days in
suspense; on the third, they were conducted to a plain outside the city
and fastened to stakes. In mockery of his rank, Abu-Said was clothed in
a scarlet robe, and, mounted upon an ass, led the melancholy procession
to the place of execution. Thirty-seven of his retinue, including
several personages of the highest distinction, shared his fate. These
deluded victims of their own credulity were used as marks for the
lances of the nobles of Don Pedro’s court; and the King himself gave
the signal by a thrust which pierced the body of his most distinguished
guest. The heads of the murdered Moslems were sent to Mohammed as a
testimonial of the friendship of his suzerain, and as an indication
that the power of the faction which had dethroned and exiled him was
broken.

Whatever might be the moral aspect of this transaction, it was
certainly advantageous to the King of Castile both in a financial and
political point of view. Enormous wealth was obtained by the spoliation
resulting from an unparalleled act of perfidy. There was not a Moor
who had not in his effects or on his person treasures of great value.
The pages, as least liable to suspicion, were the custodians of the
most precious jewels. From one was taken a necklace of a hundred pearls
as large as filberts; from another, who wore a leathern girdle, seven
hundred and twenty-three rubies; the search of a third revealed three
of the same stones of the size of pigeon-eggs and of extraordinary
brilliancy; almost a peck of beautiful pearls was found upon a fourth.
The gems of inferior lustre, or less highly prized, sapphires,
hyacinths, and turquoises, with embossed and damascened arms and armor
and gold in coin and bullion, were scarcely less valuable, and far
exceeded the booty ordinarily yielded by a marauding expedition. In
addition to the pecuniary profit derived from this outrage of the rites
of hospitality, the power of Don Pedro was materially strengthened by
it. The removal of a dangerous enemy, and the destruction of a party
whose influence had been sufficient to subvert the royal succession,
must necessarily insure the gratitude and support of Mohammed, who was
indebted to it for his restoration to power. The Castilians, entirely
controlled by the principles of the time, viewed with indifference a
breach of faith which, however reprehensible when committed against
a Christian, was almost meritorious when it involved the sacrifice
and plunder of an infidel. Mohammed received with mingled joy and
abhorrence the information of the death of his rival, and, amidst the
real or pretended rejoicings of the people, again ascended the throne.
Magnificent presents--horses and trappings, jewels and gold-- were
sent to Don Pedro as tokens of gratitude, and a perpetual treaty of
alliance was soon after ratified between the courts of Castile and
Granada.

In the domestic and foreign disturbances which oppressed the Castilian
monarchy during the troubled reign of Don Pedro, the Andalusian
Moslems remained the steadfast adherents of the Christian king. They
served in the war with Aragon. They rendered substantial and timely
aid in the implacable contest which, in spite of their efforts,
finally established the political supremacy of the bastard line of
Trastamara. During the siege of Cordova, animated by the sight of
their famous temple, the holy mosque of the Ommeyade khalifs, they
scaled the walls in the face of a desperate resistance and took the
Alcazar under the very shadow of the ancient Moslem shrine. The city
was almost within their grasp and must have fallen had their efforts
been seconded by their Christian allies with half the resolution they
themselves displayed. In the battles of Najera and Montiel, so vital to
the fortunes of Don Pedro, the one confirming for a brief period his
waning power, the other involving the forfeit of his life and crown,
the Moorish soldiers of Granada, intrusted with the safety of the royal
person, displayed a fidelity and a heroism far surpassing that of
the Castilian chivalry, oppressed by tyranny, corrupted by intrigue,
and continually wavering in their political inclinations through the
tempting inducements of the rival camps.

From the battle of Montiel, which closed the career of Don Pedro I.,
to the death of Mohammed in 1391, the kingdom of Granada enjoyed, with
but few trifling exceptions, the blessings of peace. The Emir, a few
months after the accession of Henry II., stormed the city of Algeziras,
and, unable to retain it, razed its fortifications, and filled up the
harbor. The defences were subsequently restored, but so effectually
was the port obstructed that its commodiousness was destroyed, and,
in consequence, the commercial and strategic importance of the place
was greatly diminished. An occasional border foray, undertaken by
irresponsible marauders in times of internal commotion when the
restraints of royal authority were barely tolerated or scarcely
acknowledged, was the only interruption of a cessation of hostilities
maintained, on the one hand, by policy and choice, and, on the other,
by necessity, which lasted twenty-two years. The prudence of Yusuf II.,
the son and successor of Mohammed V., at once suggested and obtained a
renewal of the treaty which had long united the two kingdoms, and whose
existence had been so propitious to the security, the wealth, and the
happiness of Granada.

In 1394, Don Martin Yañez de Barbudo, Grand Master of Alcantara,
Portuguese by birth, fanatic by nature, and adventurer from
inclination, sent to the Emir of Granada an absurd defiance, whose
grandiloquent terms recall the extravagances of the romances of
chivalry. Raising the banner of the crusade, which bore the green
cross of his order, at the head of eighteen hundred followers he
advanced to the conquest of a populous kingdom, which astrological
calculation and the suspicious predictions of a hermit had assured him
he would easily achieve. The remonstrances of provincial governors,
and the peremptory commands of the King, who saw with indignation
this unprovoked attack upon a friendly power, were insufficient to
divert him from his purpose, which he declared was sanctioned by the
Almighty and confirmed by many portentous visions and miracles. The
Moors permitted this band of fanatics to approach within a few miles of
their capital. It was then surrounded by an army of a hundred thousand
men and annihilated. Not a single Christian escaped. The knowledge
that the expedition had been undertaken contrary to the orders of
the King of Castile prevented a rupture between the two kingdoms.
About this time, Yusuf died suddenly, an event attributed, through the
Oriental love of the marvellous, to a poisoned mantle sent him by the
Sultan of Fez. He was succeeded by his second son, Mohammed VI., whose
intriguing and ambitious spirit had long since prompted him to subvert
the hereditary right of his elder brother Yusuf in order to obtain the
crown. Yusuf was confined, with his harem, in the castle of Salobreña,
where, although furnished with every luxury suitable to his rank, he
was subjected to strict restraint and constant espionage. Solicitous
concerning the validity of his title, and apprehensive of the manner in
which his usurpation might be regarded by the Castilian king, Mohammed
formed a romantic design, eminently characteristic of the manners of
the East, and whose danger and novelty, added to the attractiveness
of an enterprise remarkable for its boldness, were almost a guaranty
of success. In the character of his own ambassador, with a retinue
of twenty splendidly mounted and appointed cavaliers, he traversed,
unrecognized alike by his subjects and his Christian neighbors, the
provinces of his own and the states of the Castilian kingdom as far as
Toledo. A renewal of the treaty of alliance was readily obtained from
Henry III.; and the Emir returned to Granada secure, for the time,
from a renewal of hostilities from an adversary whose supremacy every
reflecting statesman in the Peninsula felt could not be much longer
delayed.

In 1406, serious trouble having arisen on the frontier, in consequence
of mutual depredations, King Henry summoned the Cortes with the avowed
object of using all the available resources of the monarchy for the
final subjugation of the Moslems of Granada. His sudden death, and
the occurrence of another long minority with its inevitable series
of plots and disasters, prevented the realization of this project;
and the existence of the Moorish kingdom, which fortune seemed to
have made the especial object of her favor, was protracted for nearly
eighty-five years longer. The demise of the king, however, only
deferred for a short time the prosecution of hostilities. The restless
spirit of the Spanish chivalry, nourished by war and sedition, was
never content with the formal and tedious ceremonial of the court. The
perils of the battle-field; the surprise of an isolated fortress; the
foray, with its excitements and its spoil; the flocks and herds of
the rich pastures; the treasures of splendid villas; the beauty and
fascinations of the inmates of princely harems,--these were at once
the school of the Christian cavaliers, the objects of their highest
aspirations, the incentives of their warlike and vainglorious ambition.
The enthusiasm aroused by the crusading enterprise of Henry III., while
somewhat cooled, was far from being dissipated by his death. A large
sum was voted by the Cortes. The cities of Leon and Castile resounded
with preparations for the conflict. A fleet of twenty-three galleys,
equipped by the Emirs of Tunis and Tlemcen and sent to aid the Spanish
Moslems, was defeated and destroyed in the Strait of Gibraltar by an
inferior force under the Admiral of Castile. Mohammed, well aware of
the plans of his enemies, endeavored to anticipate them by invading
the province of Jaen with a numerous army, and began the siege of that
city. Information of the approach of a Christian force caused him to
make an inglorious retreat without a battle. On the way he stormed
Bedmar, where, out of a numerous population, less than one hundred
prisoners survived to experience the bitterness of slavery. In return,
the Christians took the strong outpost of Zahara, and ravaged without
mercy the fertile environs of Ronda.

In 1408, Mohammed, at the head of twenty thousand soldiers, besieged
Alcaudete. The spirit of Arab tactics, intolerable of delay and
unreliable in the face of strong walls and obstinate resistance,
faltered before the determined courage of the garrison. Both Christians
and Moslems had suffered greatly during this war, which had hitherto
yielded no perceptible advantage to either; a suspension of hostilities
for eight months was readily agreed to; and the Castilians, to whom a
temporary respite was even more advantageous than to their adversaries,
having previously exhausted their available resources by the enrolment
of troops, now with forty million maravedis in the treasury,
impatiently expected the expiration of the truce.

In the mean time, Mohammed VI., stricken with a fatal disease, was
admonished by his physicians that he had but a short time to live.
Recognizing that the life of his brother, still detained in the castle
of Salobreña, might prove a serious obstacle to the prospects of his
own son whom he had destined to succeed him, he sent a peremptory
order to the alcalde of Salobreña to send him the head of Yusuf by
the messenger. The alcalde received the latter while playing chess
with the imprisoned prince, whose affable manners, engaging address,
and unmerited misfortunes had won the esteem of all his guards and
attendants. The manifest agitation of his companion revealed to
Yusuf, ever in expectation of such a catastrophe, the serious nature
of the despatch. Acquainted with its import, the prince begged for a
few hours’ delay to bid farewell to his family; but the command was
urgent, and the messenger, a standard-bearer of the Emir, accustomed
to implicit and instant compliance, demanded its immediate execution.
It was finally agreed that a respite should be granted until the
conclusion of the game. Short as the time was, it had not elapsed when
two nobles of the court arrived, and, with every mark of respect and
homage, saluted Yusuf as Emir of Granada.

Mohammed VI. had suddenly expired; his subjects, recognizing the
superior claims of the unfortunate Yusuf, had repudiated his nephew;
and the sorrowing prisoner, under sentence of death and with but a
few moments to live, saw himself raised in an instant from the lowest
depths of misfortune to the throne of a powerful kingdom and the
absolute sovereignty of more than a million souls. The accession of
Yusuf was followed by the usual embassy, bearing rich presents to the
Castilian court; his advances were met with courtesy; and the personal
hostility to Mohammed having been terminated by his death, a new truce
for two years was without difficulty concluded. At its expiration
in 1410, Yusuf, in accordance with the wise policy which had for so
long governed the Moslem princes of his line, attempted to obtain its
renewal. His request was insolently refused, and he was offered the
alternative of vassalage and tribute or war. He chose the latter;
assembled an army of a hundred and thirty thousand men, and met the
Christians who were about to besiege Antequera. The Moors, despite
their superior numbers, were routed in a bloody engagement; their
country was laid waste; and Antequera was taken by Ferdinand, uncle of
the King, chief of the regency, and practically ruler of the kingdom.
His success he piously attributed to the sword of St. Ferdinand, a
priceless souvenir of victory long deposited in the Cathedral of
Seville, and which, in this as in former campaigns, had been carried
in battle, where it was supposed to exert the miraculous powers of a
sacred relic, as well as the more appropriate virtues of a military
talisman. Peace was soon afterwards established conditionally upon the
liberation of several hundred Christian captives by the Emir of Granada.

The Moslems of Gibraltar, subject to the extortion and tyranny of
a grasping alcalde and seeing no prospect of relief, communicated
secretly with the Sultan of Fez, and offered to deliver to him the
fortress. That monarch, seeing in this proposition an opportunity
to disembarrass himself of his brother Abu-Said, whose talents and
popularity already menaced the continuance of his power, despatched
him to Gibraltar with two thousand men. The agreement was kept by
the citizens; the gates were opened; the Africans occupied the city;
and the alcalde with the garrison took refuge in the citadel. In a
short time, Ahmed, son of Yusuf, arrived with a large detachment of
troops, and the Africans, engaged in front and rear, were compelled to
surrender. The prince, Sidi-Abu-Said, was taken to Granada, where he
received the attentions due to his distinguished rank.

As soon as these facts became known to the Sultan of Fez, he despatched
messengers to the Emir, requesting the murder of his brother, both
as a measure of safety to himself and an evidence of friendship from
his neighbor. The generous nature of Yusuf revolted at the proposal.
He showed the letter to his prisoner; tendered him his sympathy and
his assistance; and sent him with a force of picked men and a great
treasure to avenge his wrongs and drive his inhuman brother from the
throne. The Sultan was defeated near his capital and died in prison;
Sidi-Abu-Said seized the crown without further opposition; and the
disinterested generosity of Yusuf cemented anew the relations of the
two Moorish kingdoms, so frequently interrupted by national jealousy,
sectarian discord, and the projects of unscrupulous ambition.

For the remainder of his life, no further hostilities occurred to vex
the repose of Yusuf, and a career begun in trouble and persecution
was passed amidst the pleasures and amusements of an enduring peace.
The cavaliers of Castile and Aragon, who had deserved the jealousy or
provoked the resentment of their respective sovereigns, found in the
Moslem court a refuge from the vengeance of their enemies, and their
feuds were sometimes permanently reconciled through the mediation
and the good offices of the Moorish king. In the same manner, he was
not infrequently appealed to for the settlement of disputes which
had arisen between the haughty Christian knights. Opportunities were
afforded, in accordance with the chivalric custom of the age, for the
decision of these quarrels by a contest of arms. The lists were placed
in the famous Plaza de la Bab-al-Rambla, in the heart of the Moslem
capital. Every formality of the tourney, as known and exercised by
the most refined and polished people in Europe, was observed,--the
proclamation by heralds, the adherence to the established rules of
knighthood, the practice of dignified courtesy, the presentation of
favors, the distribution of the rewards of valor and address by the
hands of beauty. The attractiveness of the spectacle was enhanced by
the character of the surroundings, by the splendor of the costumes, by
the romantic features of the encounter, by the presence of the monarch,
by the charms of the beautiful Moorish women. The quaint old houses
with their overhanging balconies and sculptured lattices were hung with
silken tapestry and garlanded with flowers. From them, the ladies of
the court, whom the liberal customs of the Andalusian Moor allowed to
appear unveiled, looked down upon an exhibition of daring horsemanship
and dexterity in the use of weapons to which modern equestrian
exercises offer no parallel and can afford no adequate conception.
Their garments of silk, curiously embroidered, were of every color;
their dark tresses glittered with jewels; about their necks were
strings of enormous pearls and many chains of gold. Upon a balcony
more elevated than the rest sat the Emir, the judge of the combat,
with rows of black eunuchs and mamelukes in magnificent uniforms and
armed with gleaming weapons grouped around him. The heralds, whose
tabards were emblazoned with the armorial bearings and cipher of the
monarch, proclaimed the mutual defiance of the champions, enforced
compliance with the regulations of the lists, and prevented the excited
contestants from exceeding the limits prescribed by the rules of
chivalric honor and deferential courtesy. Second only to the rewards of
military renown were the distinctions of the tourney and the tilt of
reeds among the dashing Moorish cavaliers, passionately fond of every
martial exercise and of every pastime which required the exhibition of
activity and skill.

In ordinary encounters, as well as in the more serious contests of the
Castilian champions presided over by Yusuf, blood was rarely spilled.
The impetuosity of the ruder Christian knights, whose customs demanded
a serious duel in satisfaction of injured honor, was restrained by the
politic Emir, who used every effort to pacify his infuriated guests
and to change their enmity into temporary if not lasting friendship.
This course, indicative of the noble generosity and inherent justice
of his nature, obtained for him the highest esteem and popularity at
the Castilian court. The confidence reposed in him, the admiration
evinced for his talents and his integrity by the hereditary foes of his
nationality and his creed, are the most unequivocal testimonials of the
greatness of his character. The dowager Queen of Castile maintained
a regular and intimate correspondence with him, and presents were
frequently exchanged between them. The asperities of war were softened
by this friendly intercourse; the condition of the frontiers, always
unsettled, became more peaceful; and, in the midst of hostilities,
Christian captives were frequently liberated without ransom.

Under the pacific reign of Yusuf, Granada increased in wealth, in all
the vices engendered by the abuse of luxury, and in that effeminacy so
fatal to military power and so characteristic of general decadence.
His death ushered in a period of civil wars and general disorder,
insignificant when considered singly, but which collectively portended
the ruin of a nation.

Mohammed VII., the son of Yusuf, received from his father a kingdom in
appearance powerful, but in fact without stability in its institutions
or loyalty among its people. The calamities of his reign, the result
of his arrogance and want of tact, procured for him the appellation
of Al-Hayzari, The Left-Handed, rather a synonym of misfortune than a
nick-name of awkwardness. Far from imitating the virtues of his father,
he seemed to cultivate the dislike of his subjects by his neglect of
their welfare and by his insufferable pride. The viziers and great
officers of the court received at his hands as little consideration
as the eunuchs and slaves. He refused audiences to the people, long
accustomed to the patriarchal method of redressing wrongs inherited
from the informal administration of justice by the sheiks of the
Desert. Adopting the unpopular custom of the Orient, so inconsistent
with the traditions and the practice of Islam, he secluded himself
within the walls of the palace. The martial amusements of chivalry were
prohibited. The populace were deprived of their games and festivals.
All classes of society were soon united in the hatred of their
monarch; he was deposed and driven to Tunis, and his cousin, Mohammed
VIII., Al-Zaguer, ascended the throne. His first act was to exile the
powerful family of the Abencerrages, whose intrigues with the King
of Castile and the Emir of Tunis eventually accomplished his ruin.
Mohammed-al-Hayzari was restored, and Al-Zaguer, eminent for political
and literary talents, dexterous in military exercises, and possessed of
every quality which contributes to the power and popularity of kings,
was dethroned and beheaded. In return for the substantial aid afforded
him, the Castilian king demanded the payment of an annual tribute and
the acknowledgment of vassalage from Al-Hayzari. This being refused,
another conspiracy was hatched, with Yusuf-Ibn-Alahmar, a wealthy noble
of royal descent, at its head. His success was assured by the support
of a powerful faction which, with a Castilian army, encountered the
forces of the Emir at the base of the Sierra Elvira. The battle which
ensued was one of the most bloody and destructive recorded in Moorish
history. The Emir was overwhelmingly defeated; and another engagement,
scarcely less disastrous, completely destroyed the power of Al-Hayzari,
who was a second time driven into exile. His advanced age and the grave
responsibilities of government shortened the life of Yusuf-Ibn-Alahmar,
whose reign lasted only six months. His death was the signal for
the return of Al-Hayzari, whom the fickle populace, which had twice
expelled him, received with every token of joy and loyalty. The
unpopularity of this monarch, who had learned nothing from adversity,
extended even to members of his family, and his own nephews conspired
against him. One of them, Ibn-Othman, by the lavish distribution of
gold among the mob of the capital, excited a riot, seized the Alhambra,
and threw his uncle into prison. His triumph was of short duration,
however, for another nephew, Ibn-Ismail, with the support of the
Christians, usurped the crown of Granada, now become the prize of
every daring adventurer. The civil war between the two princes lasted
for several years, with incalculable damage to the country and the
people. The struggle was prolonged by the intrigues of Castile, through
whose assistance the supremacy of Ibn-Ismail was finally secured. These
serious commotions, which absorbed and exhausted the resources of the
monarchy by the destruction of its wealth and the diminution of its
population, left neglected and almost forgotten the fortresses of the
frontier, the bulwarks of its safety, and the guarantees of its power.
Many of these by voluntary relinquishment or by conquest passed into
the hands of the Castilians, among them Gibraltar, the most important
of all, which was surprised and taken by the Duke of Medina-Sidonia in
1462.

At the death of Ismail, in 1466, his eldest son, Muley Hassan,
ascended the throne. A bitter foe of the Christians, he had more
than once, while a mere youth, resented their interference in aid of
pretenders and would-be usurpers, a feeling which became intensified
a hundred-fold when he assumed the supreme direction of affairs. His
implacable temper, the ferocity of his manners, his flagrant disregard
of treaties, his pitiless forays, which gave no quarter and left
behind a smoky waste, struck terror into the hearts of his enemies.
The forces of the kingdom were at that time engaged in suppressing
the rebellion of the alcalde of Malaga, brother of the monarch and
claimant of the succession. In the palace, the plots of the inmates of
the harem--rival wives who aimed at the exaltation of their progeny to
royal power--disturbed the peace and further embittered the naturally
morose disposition of the King, already irritated by the ingratitude of
his kinsmen and the bloody experiences of incessant war and rebellion.

An important crisis, ever memorable in Moorish annals, was now reached
in the affairs of Granada. For nearly two hundred years that kingdom
had gradually, but none the less surely, been approaching dissolution.
The political conditions which foster individual heroism, the patriotic
loyalty which preserves a prosperous empire, imperceptibly diminishing
with each succeeding generation, had finally disappeared. The
expansive power so marked in the early ages of Islam, and especially
conspicuous in the conquest and occupation of the Peninsula, no longer
existed. The principle of hereditary right, practically unknown
to the Arabs, adopted only for convenience by their descendants,
frequently abrogated by the arbitrary will or the uncertain caprice
of monarchs, and always weak among polygamous nations, was no longer
recognized by the Andalusian Moslems. This custom, although weak in
theory, had been one of the safeguards of the royal succession, and
consequently an assurance of stability of government and of security
to the citizen. Now, however, a swarm of pretenders disputed with each
other the possession of the throne. The inheritance of royal blood,
the possession of great wealth, the enjoyment of popular favor, were
qualifications, any one of which was sufficient to tempt an adventurer
to aspire to the crown of the Alhamares. Even the spirit of tribal
loyalty, an ancient legacy of the Arab, had been weakened by a rapid
succession of rulers of uncertain title and obscure antecedents. The
populace was debauched by the gold which the leaders of every revolt
scattered with prodigal hand. Successive irruptions of a score of
tribes and nations, of fanatics of hostile sects and barbarian manners,
had destroyed the comparatively homogeneous character at one time so
noticeable in the inhabitants of Granada. The selfish vices peculiar
to mercantile communities, the timidity incident to the holding of
great possessions and the control of vast commercial interests, had
engendered a spirit of cowardice, which was willing to purchase even
when it was able to defend. The martial spirit which had once inspired
a nation of warriors, bent upon proselytism and conquest, was extinct.
Military ardor and ambition existed, it is true, among the higher
classes which had adopted the profession of arms, but the number of the
latter was comparatively insignificant, and their achievements were
limited to the irregular operations of the foray. The levies summoned
to battle by the sudden exigencies of war scarcely deserved the name
of soldiers. Without discipline or obedience, often without weapons,
they were little better than a disorderly rabble, whose first onset
once repulsed caused them to flee incontinently from the field. While
the arts of civilization had progressed in such an unparalleled degree,
the science of war had remained stationary or had actually retrograded.
The tactics of the Spanish Moors of the fifteenth century were still
the ancient tactics of the Desert. Heavy-armed cavaliers they had none;
foot-soldiers were represented by untrained peasants, armed largely
with the implements of domestic use and husbandry. Their light-horse,
however, were the finest troops of the kind in Europe. The rapidity
of their evolutions, the ambuscade, the feigned retreat, the sudden
rally, often confounded, to his sorrow, the rash and unguarded pursuer.
This superiority, formidable as it was, was not sufficient to save, or
even to protect, the kingdom. The vulnerable character of the military
organization of the Moslems of Granada was disclosed by the number of
important battles fought within sight and almost under the shadow of
the walls of their capital. The incursions of an active foe ravaged,
almost without interference, the fairest portions of their territory.
The endurance of Moorish dominion, protracted for two centuries
beyond the natural term of a nation in the age of its decadence, is
to be chiefly attributed to two causes,--the natural obstacles which
formed the frontiers of the monarchy, and the incessant discord of its
neighbors. On one side of Granada a chain of rugged mountains, whose
passes were defended by well-fortified castles, on the other, the sea,
intercepted the progress of the invader. In the long interval between
the death of Ferdinand IV. and the union of the crowns of Castile and
Aragon, minor princes came to the throne. The advent of each, and
the regency which ensued, were signalized by dissensions, intrigue,
conspiracy, and revolt. But, while turmoil and sedition weakened
Castile in one respect, it strengthened it immensely in another. Its
people, from the highest to the lowest, became accustomed to the
presence of danger, convinced of the necessity of discipline, familiar
with the use of arms. In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries there
were scarcely any manufacturers in the Christian dominions but those
of weapons and armor. The specimens of these existing in museums
to-day disclose the perfection of strength and elegance to which their
fabrication had attained. The swords forged upon the Tagus were, even
then, unequalled for the excellence of their steel and their wonderful
durability. The product of the Spanish armorer was proof against the
fiercest assault of the battle or the tourney. In weight, in stature,
in endurance, in religious fervor, in martial enthusiasm, the Castilian
knight was far superior to his Moslem antagonist. During the Moorish
wars and the contemporaneous domestic seditions was formed the model
of the invincible Spanish infantry, destined in the next century to
become the dread and the admiration of Europe. Heretofore the Moors had
had the power of the Castilian monarchy alone to contend with; now,
however, they were to encounter the combined forces of the various
kingdoms of the Peninsula, moving grimly and irresistibly forward to
the attainment of a single end. In the ensuing catastrophe, a great
people--learned, hospitable, accomplished, industrious, ingenious,
long inspired by the most noble incentives which have ever directed
the course of human progress--were to be abandoned to extortion,
robbery, persecution, and exile; a land whose natural fertility had
been enhanced a hundred-fold by the patient labor and inventive talent
of man was to be swept clean by the desolating tempest of war; and
a civilization, far surpassing that of any country in that age in
the knowledge, the culture, the graces, the refinement, which confer
national distinction and individual happiness, was to be ruthlessly
blotted out from the face of the earth.

CHAPTER XXI

THE LAST WAR WITH GRANADA

1475–1486

Description of Granada--Its Wealth, Prosperity, and
Civilization--Its Cities--Beauty and Splendor of the
Capital--The Alhambra--Condition and Power of the Spanish
Monarchy--Character of Ferdinand--Character of Isabella--Muley
Hassan and His Family--Storming of Zahara--Alhama surprised
by the Christians--Siege of that City and Repulse of the
Moors--Sedition at Granada--Ferdinand routed at Loja--Foray
of Muley Hassan--Expedition to the Ajarquia--Defeat and
Massacre of the Castilians--Boabdil attacks Lucena and is
captured--Destructive Foray of the Christians--Boabdil is
released and returns to Granada--Renewal of Factional Hostility
in the Moorish Capital--Moslem and Christian Predatory
Inroads--Siege and Capture of Ronda--Embassy from Fez--Al-Zagal
becomes King--Defeat of the Court of Cabra at Moclin--Division
of the Kingdom of Granada--Its Disastrous Effects.

I undertake with diffidence the description of the last, the most
romantic, the most melancholy epoch in the history of Mohammedan
Spain. Its events have been recounted, its catastrophes enumerated,
its gallant exploits and its deeds of infamy depicted by far more
skilful hands than mine. The plan of this work, however, requires the
exhibition of the last scene in that great and thrilling drama which,
for a period of almost eight centuries, attracted the attention and
inflamed the proselyting zeal of Christian Europe, and without which it
would be manifestly incomplete. It is therefore from necessity that I
enter upon this task, profoundly conscious of its difficulty, yet with
the hope that the reader may not be unwilling to again peruse a story
of surpassing interest and pathos,--this time viewed from the Moorish
stand-point,--and with no design of attempting to improve that which is
popularly regarded as historically perfect or of imitating that which
is beyond all imitation.

In the year 1475 of the Christian era, that portion of the Spanish
Peninsula bounded by the Christian provinces of Cordova and Murcia,
by the Sierra Elvira and the sea, was the richest and most highly
civilized region of corresponding area on the globe. Every advantage of
soil, of climate, and of geographical position contributed to multiply
its resources and increase its power. Its agricultural system, invented
in Mesopotamia, extended in Syria, and perfected under the khalifs, had
been developed by the industry and experience of many generations until
the territory which it controlled appeared a marvel of diversified
and luxuriant fertility. The earth yielded in inexhaustible profusion
the choicest products of every portion of the world susceptible of
cultivation and improvement. The date, the fig, and the pomegranate
grew side by side with the cherry and the lemon, none of these fruits
being indigenous, and all having been introduced into Europe by the
curiosity and enterprise of the Arabs. The vineyards, whose grapes were
seedless and for nine months retained unimpaired their exquisite and
delicious flavor, covered the slopes of every hill and mountain-side.
Such was the extent of the olive plantations, and so unusual the size
of the trees, that they were compared by travellers to vast forests of
oaks. An endless succession of harvests was produced by the crops of
barley, wheat, and millet which grew upon the table-lands. Thousands
of acres in every district were covered with mulberry-trees, planted
as food for the silkworm, for the manufacture of silk was the most
profitable industry of the people of Granada. From the flax and cotton
grown near the coast fabrics of remarkable fineness and durability
were produced, which found a ready market in all the ports of the
Mediterranean. The rice and the sugar plantations, the almond-groves,
the citron- and orange-orchards, the forests abounding in valuable
woods, the pastures affording constant subsistence to immense droves of
cattle and flocks of sheep, constituted no inconsiderable portion of
the agricultural wealth of the kingdom. The intelligent cultivation of
medicinal herbs furnished to the pharmacopœia many excellent remedies,
still used by the modern practitioner. The propagation of the cochineal
afforded a dye far surpassing in beauty and brilliancy the famous
purple of the ancients. In the number and value of its minerals, this
land, so favored by nature, was excelled by no other country at that
time known to man. The sierras abounded in extensive beds of jasper,
variegated marble, agates, onyx, chalcedony, lazulite, and alabaster.
The mines, whose richness had early attracted the attention of the
Phœnicians, yielded annually great quantities of gold, silver, iron,
tin, mercury, and lead. Valuable gems, such as the ruby, the sapphire,
and the hyacinth, contributed to the adornment and pleasure of woman
and the exhibition of feminine taste and vanity. Along the coast of
the Mediterranean the pearl-fisher, as in classic times, plied his
dangerous but lucrative calling.

In the development and adaptation of these extraordinary natural
advantages a laborious and intelligent people had profited by all the
expedients suggested by human experience and ingenuity. A complete
and intricate system of reservoirs and canals distributed the
mountain streams, by myriads of tiny channels, through every orchard
and plantation. Gigantic walls, which the credulity of the ignorant
ascribed to supernatural agency controlled by talismans in the hands
of royal magicians, formed terrace upon terrace rising along the
sides of every acclivity, and the ground, thus painfully reclaimed
by art, equalled in productiveness and value those more fortunate
localities whose bounties had been lavished by the prodigal hand of
Nature alone. Every country, from Hindustan to France, from Syria
to Arabia the Happy, had paid tribute to the investigating spirit
and botanical knowledge of the Spanish Moslem. Under a sun of almost
torrid intensity, in a soil of inexhaustible richness, the rarest
exotics grew with a luxuriance not surpassed in the lands from whence
they derived their origin. The graceful palm, whose drooping branches
had suggested to the architects of the Great Mosque of Cordova that
interminable series of mysterious arches which at once awe and enchant
the traveller, had been introduced by Abd-al-Rahman I. as a souvenir of
Damascus, the city of his birth, From India had come the cubeb and the
aloe; from Yemen the balm and the frankincense; from Persia the myrtle
and the oleander. The pomegranate, from which Granada was supposed
to have obtained its name, the cotton-plant, and the sugar-cane were
imported from the coast of Africa. Europe itself furnished many
contributions to the vegetable products of the kingdom, among them the
pear, the apple, the peach, and the quince, which had long before been
known to the Romans. In short, there was no plant of culinary value or
medicinal virtues, no grain whose harvests promised an adequate return
for the toil of the husbandman, no fruit whose flavor might tempt the
palate of the epicure, which was not cultivated with success by the
Moors in the closing days of the empire.

The geographical extent of that empire, at the beginning of the war
which terminated with its conquest, was inconsiderable when compared
with its commerce, its wealth, and its population. In area it scarcely
equalled a modern European principality. At no time did its dimensions
exceed seventy-five by two hundred and ten miles; fully one-fourth
of its territory was rendered useless for agricultural purposes by
the ranges of steep and barren mountains that intersected it, but
which more than compensated for this loss by the value of their
quarries and mineral deposits. The population exceeded three million
souls. As has been previously mentioned, the new economic and social
conditions resulting from the ever-contracting boundaries of the
Moslem dominion, while they diminished its original territorial area,
enormously increased the resources of the remaining provinces. From the
conquered cities of Seville, Xerez, and Cadiz, alone, three hundred
thousand families had emigrated to Granada. Every town and every hamlet
subsequently occupied by the Castilians furnished its proportion of
Moslem refugees, who, bearing their household goods and animated with
undying hatred of the Christian faith, sought an asylum in the last
stronghold of their race and their religion. The discerning wisdom
of the emirs saw in the industry of these unhappy exiles a prolific
source of future opulence and strength. The increase of military
power arising from their numbers was prodigious. The property which
the indulgent policy of the conqueror permitted them to retain was
often of immense value. But greater than all was the accumulation of
wealth represented by the capacity, the skill, the diligence, of these
unwilling emigrants. There were few of them, indeed, unpractised in the
science of husbandry or in the mechanical trades. Their intelligence
and thrift were revealed by the flourishing condition of the country
which they were compelled to abandon, much of it originally but little
indebted to nature and largely reclaimed from barrenness, now covered
with fragrant gardens and magnificent plantations, watered by crystal
streams, adorned with sumptuous edifices, wherein were displayed all
the resources of unbounded opulence, all the splendid embellishments of
Oriental taste, all the wanton caprices of unbridled luxury,--a country
destined soon to relapse into its pristine barbarism, a prey to sloth,
to superstition, to ignorance; the home of mendicancy and imposture;
the chosen field of the inquisitor and the monk.

With the welcome accession of material wealth and untiring energy
came the no less valuable contributions of literary genius and
intellectual culture. Civil war and Castilian aggression had not yet
entirely destroyed the libraries of the great Moslem cities which had
been formed in the glorious age of the Western Khalifate; and these
inestimable legacies of ancient learning were, one by one, added to the
stores of knowledge already existing in the city of Granada. From the
lofty gallery of the minaret, not yet purified by Pagan lustration or
resounding with the clangor of Christian bells, the Moorish astronomer,
elevated far above the sleeping city, still observed the aspect of
the heavens with their gorgeous constellations and their mysterious
and interesting phenomena. The genius of poetry, whose influence was
ever paramount with the romantic and imaginative Arab, found renewed
inspiration amidst the beautiful surroundings of the capital of the
Alhamares,--the scene of so many heroic achievements, the home of so
many fascinating legends, transformed by the credulous into tales of
enchantment, celebrated by the learned in poem, in disquisition, in
chronicle.

In this charming region, where were concentrated the last remains of a
civilization whose development had aroused the wonder and provoked the
hatred of barbaric Europe, every merchant and every traveller found a
cordial welcome. The Genoese had great factories in Malaga and Almeria.
The enterprising Catalan, already noted for his shrewdness and in
whom the spirit of proselytism and conquest was always subservient to
the temptations of avarice, owned extensive mulberry plantations and
was largely interested in the manufacture and exportation of silk.
In Granada, the Hebrew, ever prosperous, was engaged in banking,
in commerce, in the exercise of every mercantile occupation which
suggested a substantial return to his proverbial and insatiable
rapacity. Even the Castilian, oblivious of the hereditary prejudices
of thirty generations of unceasing hostility, did not hesitate to
accept the hospitality of the infidel, and to profit by the advantages
afforded by the enlightened policy of the emirs of Granada. What a
prospect was presented to the observing stranger who, for the first
time, passed the frontiers of the Moorish dominions! He saw great
cities whose streets, obstructed by an immense traffic, exhibited the
costumes and displayed the commodities of every country accessible
to commercial enterprise. At Malaga he beheld the ships of every
nation possessing a maritime power; stupendous warehouses; admirably
cultivated districts, where, for three days’ journey, he could traverse
an uninterrupted succession of pomegranate and fig plantations. In
Almeria were thousands of factories, furnishing employment to tens of
thousands of artisans, where were produced fabrics of silk, of wool, of
linen, and of cloth of gold,--some of gauze-like texture, others stiff
with exquisite embroidery, all of unrivalled excellence; potteries
where were formed those vessels of metallic lustre famous in the Middle
Ages, the secret of whose composition was so jealously guarded that
its tradition alone remains; hundreds of vast caravansaries swarming
with the traders of the Orient and their caparisoned camels and
other beasts of burden; bazaars filled with every ornament demanded
by pampered wealth and every article of prime necessity, where even
the utensils of the household were damascened and embellished with
delicate arabesques; suburbs, where for forty miles the eye was
charmed by an expanse of tropical verdure and innumerable orchards and
gardens, dotted at frequent intervals with the palatial villas of the
wealthy merchants of Almeria, whose reputation for prodigality and
voluptuousness had spread to the remotest confines of the East. He saw
a land enriched by a system of cultivation without parallel in the
annals of horticultural industry; which, adopting the principles of
antiquity and profiting by the experience of centuries, had surpassed
in the value and importance of its practical results the efforts of
all nations, ancient and modern; which had brought the science of
irrigation to such a degree of perfection that the effects of its
application could be computed with all the accuracy of a mathematical
problem; which, as far as the eye could reach on every side,
displayed the apparatus which had evoked these marvels of intelligent
husbandry,--that art which forms the indispensable foundation and
bond of society,-water-wheels a hundred feet in diameter; reservoirs
on whose ample surface naval spectacles might be exhibited; dikes
of prodigious height and of cyclopean masonry; canals not inferior
in their length and volume to rivers; a maze of siphons, sluices,
and rivulets which, by concerted signals, at regular intervals,
discharged their rushing waters through field and garden and into bath
and fountain; majestic aqueducts which in dimensions and massiveness
might vie with even the gigantic and imperishable monuments of Roman
antiquity. On the face of the cliffs, hewn in the solid rock, were
spacious galleries and caves, wherein were deposited the surplus of the
harvests, as a security against siege and a resource in time of famine.

In addition to the great seaports,--each a commercial metropolis
and once the capital of an independent principality,--three hundred
towns and villages, many of them of considerable size, acknowledged
the authority of the kings of Granada. Of these, fifty were of
sufficient importance to be provided with mosques, presided over by the
expounders of the Koran. In accordance with the customs of the Orient,
the inhabitants of each manufacturing district exercised a single
occupation, the knowledge of which had been transmitted from father to
son through many generations. Baza produced the finest silks, whose
beauty and delicacy of texture surpassed the famous fabrics of the
Chinese and the Byzantine looms,--those destined for the use of royalty
being interwoven with the portrait and the cipher of the monarch in
threads of many colors and of gold; in Albacete were forged weapons not
inferior in temper and design to the scimetars and daggers of Toledo,
and damascened with all the skill of the Syrian artificer; from the
shops of Hisn-Xubiles came furniture of ebony and sandal-wood inlaid
with mother-of-pearl and ivory, and filigree jewelry of exquisite
patterns; Granada was renowned for its enamels, its mosaics curiously
wrought and fused with the precious metals, its woollens, its silk
brocades, and its coral-colored pottery whose polished surface was
flecked with particles of gold. Other towns were distinguished for
manufactures of equal utility and beauty; castings and implements of
bronze; silken veils and mantles; leathern hangings embossed and gilt
with all the elegance of a sumptuously covered volume,--a legacy of
the Ommeyade capital, from whence the material derived its name of
Cordovan; paper of great fineness and durability made from flax and
cotton; and mats of palm and esparto, soft and flexible, and dyed with
brilliant colors.

The culminating point of this marvellous development of architectural
magnificence, commercial prosperity, and intellectual culture was the
ancient Moorish capital. From its peculiar situation and the color
of its buildings, it had early received the romantic and appropriate
appellation of Hisn-al-Romman, The Castle of the Pomegranate. The
plain, or Vega, which extended in a semicircle before it, for a
distance of ten leagues, resembled a garden evoked by the genius of
enchantment. The roads which traversed it were bordered with hedges of
myrtle, mingled with orange- and lemon-trees, and overshadowed by the
palm and the cypress. Everywhere the ear was greeted with the grateful
sound of murmuring waters, whose channels were concealed by the dense
vegetation that grew along the banks. Above the foliage of laurel
and oleander appeared the red-tiled roofs of picturesque cottages,
whose snowy walls were often entirely covered with the roses trained
upon them. In the poetic imagery of the Arab they were likened to “so
many Orient pearls set in a cup of emerald.” Towering above all other
structures, and projected against the azure depths of an Andalusian
sky, were the minarets of numerous mosques, inlaid with colored tiles,
belted with gorgeous inscriptions, sparkling with gold. In the spacious
court of each of these temples was a marble fountain, and rows of
orange-trees and odoriferous shrubs, whose fragrance, wafted through
lofty doors and stucco lattices, permeated the interior. A hundred and
thirty mills, whose wheels were turned by the swift currents of the
Genil and the Darro, were required to grind the produce of the abundant
harvests and to supply the capital with bread. Within the walls of that
capital, which, with their thousand towers, enclosed a vast and thickly
settled area, were the homes of more than five hundred thousand people.
Access was obtained by means of twenty gates. The principal ones of
town and palace were those of the Tower of the Seven Stories, and of
Justice. The former, of grand and imposing dimensions, was faced with
the beautiful marble of Macael, exquisitely carved. The latter, still
one of the most striking memorials of the Moorish domination, faced the
holy shrine of Mecca.

In the mercantile portion of the city the streets were so crooked
and narrow that a single armed horseman could barely traverse them,
a condition attributable to climatic and defensive precautions; the
interminable bazaars were composed of a multitude of little shops
modelled after those of the great Moslem communities of the East;
the public buildings--the mosques, the colleges, the hospitals, the
insane asylums--were upon a scale of magnificence elsewhere unknown,
and scarcely exceeded by those of the khalifate during the period of
its greatest splendor. The baths, whose institution and adornment the
luxurious Moslem regarded as a part of his religion, were embellished
with precious mosaics and many-colored marbles, and surrounded by
beautiful gardens filled with fragrant and delicious flowers. The
Spanish Moslem never suffered himself to forget that water had ever
been the most precious treasure of his Bedouin ancestors. Its offer was
the first and an indispensable courtesy to a guest. Always in sight in
private houses, it dripped from the sides of porous alcarrazas; or, in
the palaces of the emirs, filled exquisite vases standing on either
side of the portal in niches where the prodigal fancy of the Moorish
architect had exhausted all the resources of his decorative skill.
There was not a dwelling, even of the humblest character, in Granada
unprovided with an abundant supply of the purest water. The streets,
always clean, were sluiced at frequent intervals. Around the fountains,
in every court-yard, grew aromatic plants. In the mansions of the
wealthy, the refreshing jets that cooled the summer air in winter
were replaced by the hypocaust, which diffused a genial warmth through
apartments hung with silken tapestry and glittering with rich enamels.

No description can convey an adequate idea of the splendors of this
peerless city. Built upon the sloping sides of the Sierra Nevada,
whose lofty peaks protected it from the winter blast and tempered the
torrid air of summer, it stood three thousand feet above the level
of the sea. Its walls, models of mediæval fortification, were nearly
seven miles in circumference. Far above the roofs of the houses and the
groves of palm, of elm, and of cypress, scattered through the parks and
gardens, rose graceful minarets, observatories, cupolas, towers, to
the enormous number of fourteen thousand. Of these, some were incased
in many-colored mosaics; others were covered with lace-like arabesques
gilt and painted; all were furnished with arched windows divided by
columns of marble; some were roofed with porcelain tiles of brilliant
colors, others with plates of gilded bronze.

The suburbs of the city, seventeen in all, were occupied by the
royal villas and the mansions of the nobles, which not infrequently
vied with the palaces of the Sultan in the magnificence of their
appointments and the elegance of their surroundings. The quarter of the
Albaycin, so called from the refugees of Baeza to whom Mohammed I. had
afforded an asylum, had presented with homes, and had exempted from
tribute, contained ten thousand houses. Its defences had been largely
constructed by Don Gonzalo de Zuñiga, the Bishop of Jaen, from whom
the erection of the stupendous wall had been exacted as a ransom. The
mosque of the Albaycin was one of the most exquisite structures of the
kind in the kingdom.

In the centre of the city was the Alcazaba, at once fortress and
palace, its frowning bulwarks and crenellated towers in close
juxtaposition to the orchards of tropical fruits, labyrinths of
verdure, and sparkling fountains which formed the delight of its
inmates and the admiration of foreigners,--an edifice long antedating
the Alhambra and whose origin is lost in antiquity; for centuries
the seat of government, the source of military, political, and
religious influence; a building which, swept away by the violence
of the conqueror, is now remembered only in barbarous chronicles
and uncertain traditions. Here also was the castle of Habus,--that
monarch to whom popular credulity, unable otherwise to account for
his prodigious wealth, attributed the possession of the philosopher’s
stone,--surmounted by the bronze effigy of a Moorish warrior on
horseback, armed with a double-headed lance, which turned with every
breeze, whose existence, ascribed to enchanters, was supposed to be
inseparably connected with the fate of the city, and which the fears of
the superstitious had invested with the virtues of a powerful talisman.
In the very centre of the population, surrounded by the turmoil of a
great commercial capital, stood the Djalma, or principal mosque. While
vastly inferior in dimensions, splendor, and sanctity to the great
temple of Cordova, it was long one of the holiest shrines of the Moslem
world. Its arches were supported by columns of marble and jasper. Its
floor was formed of blue and white enamelled tiles. From its shallow
cupolas, glittering with golden stars, were suspended innumerable
lamps. Its mihrab was encrusted with mosaics. In its court-yard the
waters gushed from pipes of bronze and silver into a basin of alabaster.

Adjoining the mosque, in accordance with the custom which always
placed institutions of learning and places of worship together, was
the famous University of Granada. Founded by Yusuf I., under whose
personal supervision its building was erected, its treasury had been
enriched by the munificence of every succeeding sovereign. In its
general appearance that building resembled those elsewhere raised for
public uses by the piety or the ostentation of the emirs of Granada. As
if in open defiance of the rule of the Koran, which sternly prohibited
the representation of animal forms, the portals of an edifice largely
devoted to the study of that volume were guarded by lions carved in
stone. Its apartments, admirably adapted to the purposes for which they
were designed, were almost destitute of ornamentation, in order that
the attention of the scholar might not be diverted from his studies.
Appropriate texts and legends from the works of celebrated writers
were inscribed upon the walls in letters of gold. Here were taught the
natural and the exact sciences,--law, theology, philosophy, chemistry,
astronomy, and medicine. A great number of eminent men, renowned
in every branch of literature and in every useful profession, are
mentioned by Arab biographers as having received their education at the
University of Granada. The halls were open even to the national enemy,
and the Castilian obtained in a hostile capital those principles of
knowledge which his native country was unable to afford.

It was the last institution of learning worthy of the name left in the
Peninsula. It was the exponent of scientific method, of intellectual
advancement, of liberal thought, of enlightened toleration; the final
refuge of Moorish culture which, expelled by armed force from its
ancient seat upon the Guadalquivir, had implored the protection of a
race of kings who emulated with distinguished success the noble example
of the khalifs, it represented the flickering ray of a civilization
which, during an epoch most conspicuous in the history of national
development, had illumined with noonday splendor the darkness of
mediæval Europe.

Originally settled by members of the military division of Damascus who
served in the army of Musa, Granada ever loved to boast a fanciful
and traditional resemblance to the famous capital of Syria. But that
capital, with all its magnificence, rising like an enchanted vision
from the desert, could never compare in picturesqueness of situation,
in productiveness of soil, in salubrity of climate, in architectural
splendor, with the beautiful city of the Spanish emirs. Attracted by
the purity of its atmosphere, the inhabitants of Africa sought, amidst
its verdant groves and refreshing waters, relief from the ailments
induced by the sultry and malarial vapors of the coast. The fame of
their kinsmen frequently prompted the sultans of Fez to cross the sea,
and become sometimes suppliants for favor, sometimes suitors for the
hand of Moorish princesses, traversing with their swarthy retinues the
streets upon carpets of flowers and under canopies of silk and gold.

The fate of the Hispano-Arab empire had always been closely associated
with the policy of the states of Northern Africa. Thence had come the
invading army which, like an irresistible tempest, swept away the
Visigothic monarchy. Thence came the Almoravides, who seized the throne
of the Ommeyade Khalifate, and the hordes of fanatics who had levelled
the remaining monuments of civilization with the dust. The princes of
Granada had been alternately the vassals and the allies of the sultans
of Fez, Tunis, and Tlemcen, but never their masters. For generations
African garrisons occupied the keys of the Peninsula,--Algeziras,
Gibraltar, Tarifa.

The political sagacity of Mohammed I. had early recognized the
necessity of maintaining amicable relations with his Mauritanian
neighbors. From his reign the prayer for the Sultan was offered daily
in every mosque. Magnificent embassies, bearing valuable gifts,
frequently solicited his friendship. His intervention was sought
in settlement of the pretensions of rival claimants to the throne.
The fiercest warriors of the Atlas Mountains were enrolled in the
guard of the emirs. The Gomeres, the Zegris, and the Abencerrages
were permanently established in different quarters of the city which
were long distinguished by their names; and the African influence
represented by the bloody feuds of these jealous tribesmen exerted no
inconsiderable effect upon the ultimate fate of the kingdom of Granada.

The general attractions of the populous and luxurious capital, manifold
as they were, paled, however, before the splendors of the royal
palaces. Of these, nine in number, the chief in extent and beauty
was the Alhambra. Rising upon a jutting promontory of the Sierra,
its highest point towered five hundred feet above the city. A double
wall surrounded it; the outer line of circumvallation enclosing an
oval half a mile in length by seven hundred and thirty feet in its
greatest diameter. Here were domiciled all the numerous officials and
retainers of an Oriental court and the ministers of religion, the
viziers, the faquis, the muftis, the kadis, the guards, the relatives
of the monarch, and the discarded sultanas. Oxide of iron in the
plaster which covered the walls had imparted to them a coral hue, from
whence the imposing pile derived its name of Medina-al-Hamra, The Red
City. The battlements were painted white, and, projected against the
brilliant green of the mountain-side, were visible for a distance of
many leagues. The palace itself, isolated by a wall and a moat, was of
vast dimensions and of quadrangular form. In the centre and at each
corner was a court with encircling galleries, charming: pavilions, and
innumerable fountains. At the right of the entrance, in accordance
with Oriental custom, was the apartment where the Emir, or, in his
absence, the kadi, daily dispensed justice. Beyond, opening upon the
largest court in the palace, was the great hall of audience, devoted
to grand ceremonials,--coronations, royal festivals, and the reception
of foreign ambassadors. Its dome, inlaid with ivory and gold upon a
surface of blue, green, and scarlet, was sixty feet in height. Its
walls were covered with gilded stucco-work upon a ground of brilliant
colors; its floor was of great slabs of white marble; in its centre
was a fountain of beautiful design. Constructed by the pride and
emulous ostentation of many sovereigns, the Alhambra presented an
epitome of the progress and the perfection of Arab decorative art.
To its magnificence the taste and invention of every Oriental nation
had contributed, but the utmost efforts of their skill had been
eclipsed by the genius of the native Moorish architects. The arcades
of every court, the walls of every apartment, afforded unmistakable
evidences of the foreign origin whence was derived the civilization
that erected them. In the slender marble pillars could be discerned the
tent-poles which sustained the fragile and temporary shelter of the
nomad of the Desert. The mural decorations, which in the marvellous
delicacy of their intricate patterns resembled silk and gold brocade,
were copied from the shawls of Cashmere. In the blue domes, studded
with shining stars, the Moslem recognized a representation of the
firmament under whose boundless expanse his Syrian ancestors watched
their flocks or followed with weary steps the midnight march of the
plodding caravan. The grotto-like stalactitic arches and cupolas,
modelled after a section of a pomegranate from which the seeds had
been removed, were also symbolical of the cave which sheltered the
Prophet during his flight from Mecca. In all the truly characteristic
and distinctive features of this ornamentation the precepts of the
Koran were generally, but not universally, observed. The tracery,
fairly bewildering in its complexity, was composed of an infinite
variety of combinations of simple, geometric forms. The segments of
graceful curves were blended in a thousand fantastic designs with the
rich foliage of tropical plants and flowers. The ceilings were made
up of different sections of the cube,--triangles, prisms, rhomboids.
The interior of an apartment in this gorgeous edifice suggested the
influence of the supernatural rather than the ingenuity of man. Its
doors, ten feet in height, were inlaid, painted, and gilt. The floor
was of glazed tiles and marble; the ceiling of stalactites, resplendent
with crimson and gold. The walls were hung with brocaded tapestry
and decorated leather. Light was admitted through windows of stained
glass on which appeared pious texts and the cipher of the sovereign.
Silver censers of globular form diffused everywhere the smoke of
rare perfumes. The divans were covered with rich silks striped with
many colors. On one side the eye fell upon a court-yard paved with
broad slabs of alabaster, in its centre a great fountain supported by
twelve grotesque lions; on the other, it was charmed by a panorama of
unequalled grandeur and beauty,--a view of hill and valley, of palace
and hamlet, of villa and plantation, refreshed by a myriad of sparkling
rivulets, fragrant with the intoxicating odors of countless gardens,
framed in a gorgeous setting of empurpled mountains, verdant plain,
and firmament of the clearest blue. Not without reason did the Emir of
Granada liken his abode to Paradise!

In the decorations of this enchanted palace nothing exceeded in
elegance the inscriptions, in which might be read its history and the
sentiments and aspirations of its royal founders. Some were texts
taken from the Koran. Others were selections from the poems of famous
writers. On the capitals of columns appeared the cheerful greetings,
“Prosperity,” “Happiness,” “Blessing.” The Cufic and the Neshki
characters lent themselves with peculiar facility to this method of
ornamentation. Artistic ingenuity had so disposed the letters that
they could be read in either direction; and skilfully inserted in many
legends of double significance were the names and the nationality of
the craftsmen who had executed the work. Amidst the maze of tracery
were emblazoned the arms of the kings of Granada, bestowed upon the
first of the Alhamares by Ferdinand III.,--a shield of crimson crossed
by a golden bar held in the mouths of dragons and inscribed with the
motto, “There is no conqueror but God.”

In the summer portion of the palace the walls of enormous thickness,
the dimly lighted apartments, the marble lattices, the lace-like
spandrels through which passed, without obstruction, the lightest
breeze, the perpetual ripple of waters, banished from the minds of the
inmates even the idea of the discomforts of a semi-tropical climate.
The winter palace, of larger dimensions, while certainly not inferior
in elegance to the remainder of the edifice, afforded less opportunity
for the display of architectural magnificence. The rooms were smaller,
and the distribution of water confined to the necessities of religious
and sanitary ablution. Warmth was distributed by the Roman hypocaust, a
system of earthenware pipes similar in arrangement to a modern furnace.
A higher degree of temperature was obtained by the use of metal globes
filled with burning charcoal, which were rolled over the floors of the
apartments. A bath, the luxury of whose apartments was unsurpassed in
the realm of Islam, offered that voluptuous indulgence which was to the
devout Moslem a sacred obligation, enjoined by his creed and inculcated
by the traditions of centuries.

The mosque of the Alhambra, raised by the piety of Mohammed III.,
was recognized by all Moslems as one of the most exquisite temples
of their religion. Its foundations had been laid by the toil of
Christian captives. The expense of its erection as well as the revenues
required by the worship celebrated within its walls--a worship which
far exceeded in ostentatious splendor that of the Great Mosque of the
city--were largely derived from the proceeds of forays and the tributes
levied upon the Jewish and Christian population. Its materials were the
rarest and most expensive that could be procured. Columns of jasper, of
porphyry, of Numidian marble, and of alabaster sustained its arches,
enriched with delicate stuccoes and inlaid with lazulite and onyx. The
bases and capitals of these columns were of silver carved in arabesques
and flowers. From the ceiling, painted with blue and gold, hung fifty
lamps of shell, mother-of-pearl, and bronze, whose light was tempered
by rose-colored shades of silken gauze. In its tile-work, its legends,
its mosaics, its harmoniously blended hues, the Moorish artificer had
exhausted every device of human skill. Adjoining the mosque was the
pantheon, wherein, deposited in caskets of massy silver, were entombed
the emirs of Granada. Their marble sarcophagi were ranged around a
sombre vault, whose roof, like that of the Mihrab of the Djalma of
Cordova, was chiselled in imitation of a shell.

Within the great circuit of the Alhambra were many secret apartments,
subterranean passages, and galleries subservient to the uses of the
eunuchs and the garrison, which communicated with the fortifications
of the city. In the gardens, of which there were several, the
capricious taste of the Arab was disclosed by peculiarities of
floral embellishment,--walks paved with colored pebbles in arabesque
patterns; beds of myrtle representing meadows in which grew plants
and diminutive trees of the same vegetation clipped into forms of
perfect symmetry; royal ciphers and pious legends traced in flowers of
scarlet, purple, white, and yellow on a field of emerald green. The
riotous fancy of Moorish genius attained its maximum development in the
construction of this palace, celebrated by every traveller of ancient
and modern times as unrivalled in picturesque elegance and beauty.
In the delightful villas within the walls or adjacent to the city,
the emirs, in the company of their favorite slaves, were accustomed
to pass many months of the year. All of them resembled the Alhambra
in arrangement and decoration, yet each was distinguished from the
others by some peculiarity from which it derived its name. In one was
a labyrinth of waters,--streams, cascades, and fountains, whose jets
were projected to the height of sixty feet; another was famed for the
virtues of a medicinal spring; in a third was an immense artificial
lake; to another was attached an aviary filled with the song-birds of
every clime.

The channels of three great aqueducts which supplied the city and
palaces were in many places tunnelled through the solid rock. Their
waters were also utilized for mining purposes, the cliffs in the
vicinity of the Darro being especially rich in mineral deposits.
The daily rental of a single mountain in the rear of the Alhambra,
where toiled four hundred Christian slaves, amounted to two hundred
ducats of gold. From the royal demesnes, thirty in number, an annual
income of twenty-five thousand dinars, or four hundred and fifty
thousand dollars, was derived; and in addition to this great sum were
the revenues from the mines, the forests, the pastures, the ransom
of captives, and the tribute of vassals. At the roll of the Moorish
atabal fifty thousand soldiers sprang to arms. Of these, eight thousand
cavalry--the most splendid in equipment, the most rapid in evolution,
of any similar force in Europe--were quartered with twenty-five
thousand cross-bowmen in the Alhambra. The entire available military
force of the kingdom was not less than three hundred thousand men.

An examination of the character of the inhabitants of Granada reveals
to us one of the many causes of their fall. They are described as
incredibly selfish, as deficient in humanity, without sympathy for the
living or reverence for the dead. In times of scarcity, the superfluity
of the rich was abused for the oppression of the poor. They celebrated
their riotous festivals in the vicinity of cemeteries. That humble
piety which is at once the merit and the security of a people was
extinct. The most sacred precepts of religion were constantly violated.
In the infidel University of Granada the maxims of Averroes and other
heretics of the Cordovan school were publicly taught. The use of
wine was almost universal; and the fasts enjoined by Mohammed were
transformed into scenes of wassail and license. Charity was refused
alike to the worthy unfortunate and the brazen impostor. The schools
of theology were full of scoffers and hypocrites. In the congregations
of the mosques, the women outnumbered members of the other sex ten to
one. The delineation of animal forms, that abomination of the devout
Moslem, was everywhere visible,--on the arms of the sovereign, on
the public fountains, on the ramparts, on the ceilings of palaces,
in the institutions of learning, at the very portals of edifices
dedicated to the study of the Koran. The monarch, to whose example
the people naturally turned for instruction and whose family traced
its genealogy in a direct line to the Ansares, the Companions of the
Prophet, was not infrequently the first to violate the maxims of a
religion of which he was the acknowledged representative. The entire
population was deficient in the principle of cohesion indispensable
to the maintenance of political power. Its elements were composed of
the antagonistic fragments of a hundred tribes and factions. Sectarian
prejudice had been succeeded by undisguised hostility. Familiarity
with assassination, the impunity of frequent revolt, the exile of
princes, the recurrence of civil war, a succession of usurpers, had
practically abrogated the principle of loyalty. Without attachment
to the soil, without reverence for the throne, without incentives to
national independence, without aspirations for national glory, even
the appearance of patriotism could not exist. Enervated by luxury, the
military spirit, which sometimes prolongs the existence of moribund
nations, had ceased to display that ferocious energy which had so
frequently led the armies of Islam to victory. Twice had large bodies
of the citizens of Granada, exasperated by tyranny, resolved on
expatriation, and solicited the protection of the kings of Castile. In
the final struggle, the Christian invader found no allies so useful
as those partisans hopelessly contending for political supremacy, and
willing to sacrifice home, honor, religion, liberty, provided their
countrymen of a hostile faction might be involved with themselves in a
common destruction. The Spanish Moslems had reached a point in their
development beyond which, as a people, they could not pass. With them,
as with all others, the epoch marked by the perfection of mechanical
ingenuity, by the climax of artistic excellence, by the superiority of
mental culture, was coincident with the period of national decay. Their
civilization, however dazzling it might appear, shone with a false
and delusive lustre. Its promoters founded a great and opulent state.
They improved the practice of every art, they extended the productive
power of every industry. They patronized letters with unstinted
liberality. They based their religious policy upon the broad and
statesmanlike principle of universal toleration. In their conquests,
as far as was consistent with national security, they recognized the
rights of humanity and forbearance. From the most unpromising origin
resulted achievements of surpassing grandeur and pre-eminent value.
The migratory Bedouin of the Desert, with no home but a low tent open
to the air and possessing no idea whatever of substantial architecture
or mural ornamentation, when brought under the influence of Greek and
Roman antiquity and of the stupendous structures of the Valley of the
Nile, rapidly developed into the most accomplished of decorators and
architects. The descendants of the conquerors of Egypt who burned the
Alexandrian library founded the University of Cordova and formed the
great collections of the khalifate. A race whose progenitors lived by
violence and whose name was synonymous with rapine established schools
of law, secured the safety of the highways by the maintenance of a
vigilant police, and became renowned for their administration of rigid
and impartial justice. The seal of that civilization was impressed
more deeply upon the monuments, upon the life, upon the traditions of
Granada, than upon those of any other locality which had experienced
the magical effects of its influence and its example. That kingdom had
long survived the wreck of the empire. Within its borders were to be
found specimens of architectural splendor which the wildest visions of
Oriental fancy could not surpass. To the scholar, it was the seat of
learning and the home of poesy; to the merchant, the centre of a vast
and profitable commerce; to the traveller, a far more pleasing and
instructive subject of study than the pageantry of Roman superstition
or the melancholy exhibition of Byzantine pride and impotence. The
imaginative peasant, whose mind had been nourished from childhood
with tales of wonder, regarded his country as a land of enchantment.
Especially was this true of the capital. Its approaches were guarded
by talismans. Its towers were peopled by demons. A thousand fantastic
legends adorned the story of its princes, the lives of its heroes,
the foundation of its citadel, the erection of its palaces. Its
incomparable monuments, apparently transcending the efforts of human
power, were attributed to genii enslaved by magicians. Inscribed alike
upon the portals of royal villa and peasant’s hut was the cabalistic
hand, of potent efficacy against the dreaded evil-eye. Over all
the city and its attributes popular superstition spread a veil of
romantic and unearthly influence, which to our day has never been
removed; symbolized by the artificer in forms universally believed to
conceal some mysterious significance; in the carvings of architrave
and capital; in the blending of characters in inscription and cipher;
in the verdant labyrinths of the terraced gardens that encircled her
fair brows as with a coronet; in the bursting pomegranate, in field of
silver, emblazoned on her arms.

Such was Granada on the eve of the Conquest. Well might Castilian
ambition covet such a prize! Well might the Moslem, proud of the
commercial pre-eminence of his country, intoxicated with her beauty,
mindful of her immortal souvenirs, conscious of her impending fate,
refer with Oriental hyperbole to her fair metropolis as, “Court of the
Universe,” “Throne of Andaluz,” “Mother of Peoples,” “Pomegranate of
Rubies,” “Diadem of Roses,” “City of Cities!” She had fulfilled her
magnificent destiny in the world of science, of art, of letters. She
had created imperishable monuments of her intellectual power. The star
of her glory, long past its meridian, was now rapidly hastening to its
setting.

The implacable struggle for national existence on the one hand, for
religious and political supremacy on the other, was now about to assume
a new and a more decisive character. With much show of reason the
Spaniard regarded the Arab as the usurper of his hereditary rights.
With a valor and an inflexible tenacity of purpose scarcely paralleled
in any age, he had for centuries prosecuted the recovery of his ancient
patrimony in the arduous and bloody path of conquest. Undismayed by
physical obstacles, undaunted by repeated reverses, never yielding what
was once within his iron grasp, he had finally advanced to the gates
of the last infidel stronghold. In his ruthless progress he was no
unworthy type of the Genius of Destruction. The charming landscape he
encountered he transformed into a blackened desert. The shrines of a
hostile faith, embellished with the most exquisite labors ever bestowed
by the hands of popular reverence and royal prodigality upon the altars
of God, were demolished or purposely suffered to fall into decay. The
smoke of his camp-fires begrimed the walls of gilded palaces. Historic
records of former ages, priceless relics of antiquity, scientific
instruments, were delivered to the flames. His energy, his sincerity,
his bravery, however, could never be called in question. The simple
Roman sword, the emblem of courage, the symbol of power and dominion,
which is carved upon the tomb of Pelayus in the valley of Covadonga,
was the worthy precursor of those trenchant blades that hewed their
way from the mist-enshrouded defiles of the Asturian Mountains to
the rose-clad slopes of the Sierra Nevada, and established, amidst
the sack of cities and the extermination of an industrious and
accomplished people, the awful tyranny of ecclesiastical avarice and
inquisitorial power. Every impediment had been surmounted by the
indomitable perseverance, fanaticism, and ambition of the Crusader.
New sovereigns now controlled the destinies of his country. For
generations the principal adversary of Granada had been the kingdom of
Castile, impoverished in resources, divided by faction, exhausted by
warfare, weakened in authority. The union of the two great realms of
the Peninsula brought into the contest the hardy population and the
unimpaired vigor of Aragon. In Castile a great social and political
revolution had been effected. The claims of the nobility, inconsistent
with the dignity and the prerogatives of the crown, had been curtailed
or abolished. The possession of a title or the occupancy of a mountain
stronghold no longer conferred immunity from the punishment of crime.
Treasures and demesnes extorted by violence or procured by fraud from
the weakness of former princes were relinquished. Feudal privileges,
the subject of constant abuse and encroachment since the foundation of
the monarchy, were sternly retrenched. Civil disorder was suppressed.
Through the agency of a vigilant military police, which in the pursuit
of offenders was no respecter of rank, the highways became safe,
and commerce revived. With the return of public security, national
development received a new and powerful impetus. The seaports, long
deserted, were filled with vessels. The stores of capital, secreted
from royal and aristocratic rapacity, gradually found their way into
the channels of trade. A debased currency which had impaired public
credit and produced repeated financial disasters was replaced by a
legitimate coinage of universally recognized value. The folly of Henry
IV. had authorized the establishment of private mints, the standard of
whose product was regulated solely by the necessities or the avarice
of their proprietors. These were abolished, and all coins now bore the
royal stamp, a substantial guaranty of their worth and genuineness.
With the decline of feudal privileges the influence and the importance
of the middle class increased. That class, ever constituting the most
valuable portion of the social fabric, dependent for its existence
upon the security of trade and the practice of industry, could not
survive amidst the incessant disorder of feud and sedition. For many
generations a vast interval had separated the majestic castle of the
noble from the filthy hovel of the serf, whose occupants represented
the two most numerous castes of society. Royal authority now interposed
to especially protect those whom political experience had proved
might constitute a safe and effective bulwark against aristocratic
aggression. It was an age of religious as well as of political
transition. The Church was not yet sufficiently strong to persecute.
The Crown could not yet venture to support the ecclesiastical with the
secular power. The Inquisition had not yet raised its menacing and
bloody hand to stifle thought and check the exertion of every generous
impulse, but it was even then soliciting recognition; the glory of
its establishment was reserved for the pious Isabella. As a result of
toleration based upon the consciousness of weakness, the sectaries
of other religions, heedless of impending disaster, pursued their
avocations in peace. The rancor of mediæval prejudice did not prevent
the shrewd and obsequious Jew from buying his cargoes or negotiating
his loans. The Mudejar, who had, perhaps without reluctance, exchanged
the capricious despotism of his hereditary rulers for the suspicious
protection of an ancient foe, exercised, in a delusive tranquillity,
those agricultural and mechanical occupations which had conferred such
blessings upon his race. In addition to other important considerations,
the tribute collected from this heretical population brought no
inconsiderable revenue into the royal treasury. The once discordant
elements of Christian authority in the Peninsula had been reconciled;
what had formerly been its weakness was now its firmest support;
dissensions had been supplanted by affectionate loyalty; a protracted
truce had insured the development of national strength; and the
disputes and prejudices of a score of hostile and semi-independent
states had been forgotten in the inauguration of the bold and subtle
policy which, almost imperceptibly and without determined resistance,
had established and consolidated a formidable monarchy.

The accession of the princes under whose auspices these grand results
were achieved is coincident with the beginning of one of the most
important periods mentioned in history. Not only were the political
conditions of the age eminently favorable to the increase of Spanish
power, but every adventitious circumstance seemed to contribute
directly to that end. The nobles were exhausted by generations of
discord. Feudalism, carried to extremes, had become synonymous with
irresponsible tyranny. The people were weary of revolution. The spirit
of loyalty, always strong in the chivalrous Castilian, required but
the assertion of regal authority to be revived in all its original
fervor and intensity. The inherent and fatal weakness of Granada,
whose treasures were greater than those possessed by any other country
in Europe, was well known to its enemies. Their cupidity, long since
aroused by the ostentatious exhibition of fabulous wealth; their
fanatical zeal, stimulated by the Papal blessing and the unlimited
distribution of indulgences, urged them to the gratification of the
most powerful passions which dominate humanity. The apparent strength
of the Moslem kingdom was illusory. Its vitality had long been sapped
by border conflict and domestic convulsion. Its capacity for resistance
was not proportionate to the formidable character of its bulwarks, the
number of its inhabitants, the value of its resources, the spirit of
its traditions, the gallantry of its defenders, or the measure of its
renown. Before the first well-concerted attack it must inevitably fall.

The sovereigns upon whom had devolved the task of erasing from the
Peninsula the last vestige of Moslem ascendancy were, in many respects,
admirably qualified for the undertaking. Ferdinand was experienced
beyond his years; practised in that school which taught that duplicity
was the highest development of political wisdom; tried by the dangers
and the vicissitudes which in an age of national disorder beset
the path of princes; of mediocre abilities and limited education;
incapable of sincere attachment; of undoubted courage, yet inclined
to negotiation rather than to violence; moderate in the indulgence
of his pleasures; abstemious in diet, and shabby in dress almost to
parsimony; frigid in temperament, yet dissolute; taciturn and vigilant;
suspicious, arbitrary, and imperturbable; without faith or integrity
where momentous public interests were involved; a bigot rather from
policy than from principle; narrow, selfish, and crafty; stern, sullen,
merciless, imperious; equally ready to conciliate an enemy or to
sacrifice a friend.

In Isabella was typified the prevalent spirit of the age,--a spirit
of superstition, of credulity, of intolerance, ever manifesting a
blind devotion to the ministers of religion, ever sanctioning an
uncompromising severity in dealing with heretics. Her talents for
administration and command were far superior to those of her husband.
Her heart was not always insensible to the dictates of pity. She had
received the best education which the restricted opportunities of the
time afforded. It was her masculine genius which projected and carried
into execution the reforms that assured the prosperity of her kingdom
and re-established the dignity of the throne. Her prophetic foresight
was often obscured by her deference to ecclesiastical authority. She
accepted the theories of Columbus after they had been repudiated as
absurd and blasphemous by the wisest of her councillors. It was at
her own request that the Pope issued the bull which established the
Inquisition. Her character was a singular compound of the amazon and
the saint. She was equally at home in the cloister and in the camp;
listening to the solemn anthems of the mass or surrounded by the clash
of arms. Her missal, bearing evidence of constant usage, is one of
the most precious relics of the Cathedral of Granada. Her sword and
her armor of proof, beautifully wrought and inlaid with gold, are
preserved in the museum of Madrid. With the economy of an ordinary
housewife, she spun, wove, and stitched her own garments and those of
her family. With placid equanimity, she never suffered herself to be
elated by success or depressed by misfortune. The universal popularity
she enjoyed did much to atone for the stolid and repulsive nature
of her husband. In an age of unbounded licentiousness,--practised
by every class and excused by ecclesiastical indulgence and royal
example,--no suspicion of scandal ever attached to her name. Without
those charms of face and figure which in exalted personages have
had no small influence on the destiny of empires, her manners were
unusually pleasing and attractive. Her commanding ability dominated
the mean and disingenuous Ferdinand. She maintained with inflexible
firmness the ancient prerogatives of Castile. Courage, magnanimity,
tact, candor, benevolence, were among her most conspicuous virtues.
Yet Torquemada, the first Grand Inquisitor of Spain, was her favorite
confessor, and the awful tortures and subsequent exile of the Hebrew
population of the Peninsula were inflicted with her hearty co-operation
and approval. The inflexible resolution of Isabella was one of the most
striking traits of her remarkable character. Once determined upon the
accomplishment of a design, she pursued it unflinchingly to the end. By
the fiery Spanish youth their queen was regarded with an affectionate
reverence shared only by the Virgin. The moral effect produced upon
the Castilian soldiery by her appearance in the field was greater than
the confidence inspired by many battalions. Fortunate, indeed, was the
knight whose prowess evoked from the lips of his royal mistress words
of commendation, more precious in his eyes than the tumultuous applause
of multitudes or the deafening acclamations of mighty armies.

It was well for the Christian cause that its power had been thus
consolidated, for never during the period of the Arab domination had
it been called upon to encounter a more formidable adversary. Muley
Hassan, Emir of Granada, though advanced in years, still retained all
the enthusiasm of youth, tempered by the wisdom and experience of
age. From his very childhood he had been familiar with the exercise
of arms. He was long accounted one of the best lances in the kingdom.
Foremost in every warlike enterprise, he was the terror of the
frontier years before he ascended the throne. Since his accession,
his neighbors had had frequent occasion to acknowledge the boldness
of his undertakings, the rapidity of his movements, the unrelenting
cruelty of his character. The hatred he bore to the infidels had not
been diminished by their gratuitous intervention in behalf of rebels
in arms against his authority. His personal inclinations were towards
unremitting hostility. The literary traditions of his dynasty were, to
this fierce warrior, but so many manifestations of folly and cowardice.
He repudiated with haughty contempt the claim of superiority implied
in the tribute extorted by Castilian arrogance from the policy or the
fears of his predecessors. The faith of treaties he observed so far as
it suited his convenience and no farther.

The domestic relations of Muley Hassan had already given indications
of those fatal quarrels eventually destined to cause the disruption
of the monarchy. His sultana, Ayesha, a princess of great abilities
and undaunted resolution, was the mother of two sons, the elder of
whom, heir apparent to the throne, was the famous Abdallah, known
to the Christians as Boabdil, devoted by fate to a life of strange
vicissitudes and to a melancholy end. The amorous old king had long
since discarded the Moorish princess for a beautiful Christian slave,
designated in Spanish romance and tradition as Doña Isabel de Solis,
but known to Moorish chroniclers by the poetic appellation of Zoraya,
“The Star of the Morning.” Ayesha, inflamed with rage and jealousy,
neglected no opportunity to persecute her rival and annoy her lord. Of
noble birth and possessed of unlimited wealth, she readily enlisted in
her behalf many adherents of rank and power. The ever-available pretext
of an unpopular vizier was successfully invoked. The Zegris and the
Abencerrages, infected with the tribal prejudices of the Desert and
constant rivals for royal favor, willingly lent their aid; the former
adhered to the Emir, the influence of the latter was cast with the
opposing party. The populace of Granada, delighting in innovation and
prone to revolt, chose sides in the controversy at a time when national
union was an imperative necessity; when even the hearty co-operation
of every class and clan might have been insufficient to avert the
impending tempest; when internal dissension was certain to facilitate
the designs of the Christians. Popular discontent had, as yet, only
manifested itself in a few unimportant riots, which had been suppressed
with trifling bloodshed; when the apprehension of the common enemy
suspended, for the moment, the implacable resentment of the rival
factions.

Having adjusted the internal affairs of their kingdom, secure in their
authority, and eager for renown, Ferdinand and Isabella lost no time
in despatching an embassy to Granada, instructed to demand the arrears
of tribute, an explanation of violated treaties, and an acknowledgment
of their own suzerainty. The envoy, Don Juan de Vera, whose splendid
retinue had been provided with everything calculated to impress the
Moors with the grandeur and power of the Spanish monarchy, brought back
a message of defiance. “Return,” said the ferocious old Emir, “and
say to your masters that the monarchs of Granada who paid tribute to
the Christians are dead. Nothing for our enemies is now made here but
lance-heads and scimetars!” The insolent reply of the Moorish king,
whom he regarded in the light of a rebellious vassal, exasperated the
usually phlegmatic Ferdinand. In an outburst of fury, he exclaimed,
“I will tear out the seeds of this pomegranate one by one;” and, with
a grim determination to exact a signal revenge, in concert with the
Queen he despatched messengers to the powerful nobles throughout his
dominions acquainting them with the result of the embassy and ordering
them to prepare for war.

By no one was this notification of impending hostilities received
with greater satisfaction than by Don Rodrigo Ponce de Leon, Marquis
of Cadiz. That personage, destined to figure so prominently in the
Conquest as to be generally recognized as its animating spirit, was
the representative of one of the greatest houses of the kingdom. With
the Duke of Medina-Sidonia, long his feudal rival, he divided the
richest estates of Andalusia. Confident of the success which would
excuse his rashness, he summoned his retainers, made a sudden foray
as far as the environs of Ronda, destroyed the town of Mercadillo,
and returned to Arcos loaded with spoil. The pugnacious Muley Hassan
could ill brook this insult to his dignity, and he at once determined
upon a counterstroke. The fortress of Zahara, captured from the Moors
by Ferdinand of Antequera, was the object of his hostility. It was a
typical mediæval stronghold. Built upon a pyramidal hill, its natural
and artificial defences defied an ordinary attack. But the garrison
was small, the supplies inadequate, and the governor disheartened
and careless from the affliction of a recent domestic calamity. With
the greatest secrecy and celerity, the King issued with his troops
from Granada, traversed the mountains by difficult and unfrequented
paths, and at night, in the midst of a fearful storm, appeared before
Zahara. Aided by the obscurity and the noise of the storm, the Moorish
soldiery scaled the walls. The garrison was put to the sword. Many
citizens were killed in their beds; the survivors, drenched with rain,
spattered with blood, and quaking with cold and terror, collected in
the public square, and, exposed to the full fury of the tempest, were
guarded there till daylight by a troop of Berber horsemen. Three days
afterwards they were exposed for sale in the slave-market of Granada.

The Moorish wars of Spain were essentially wars of reprisals. The
military expeditions of one side were usually followed by corresponding
incursions of the other. A protracted campaign with the immense expense
involved in the maintenance of an army and the prosecution of a siege
had heretofore, except in a few instances, been beyond the power of
the Christians, and contrary to the traditional tactics of the Moors,
practised in all the stratagems of guerilla warfare. The martial spirit
of both nations was therefore for the most part exercised in those
brilliant but indecisive operations which, by a sudden and unexpected
attack, could inflict temporary injury on an enemy. After the seizure
of Zahara, an exploit of greater importance was necessary to retrieve
the credit of the Spanish arms. With this in view, the Marquis of
Cadiz despatched spies to examine the condition of the various cities
in the kingdom of Granada. This service, although attended with
circumstances of the greatest difficulty and peril, was yet one most
earnestly solicited by the Spanish cavaliers. Those intrusted with this
mission reported that Malaga and Alhama might, with proper precautions,
be surprised. Not content with this information, the Marquis sent
Ortega del Prado, an experienced engineer, to carefully inspect the
surroundings and measure the walls of Alhama. This dangerous task
successfully accomplished, the cautious leader proceeded, with the most
profound secrecy, to carry his daring plan into execution. An effective
force of seven thousand men, commanded by some of the boldest captains
of Andalusia, was assembled. Imitating the example of the Moslems, they
moved at night and in silence. It is one of the most singular facts in
the annals of these wars that large bodies of men could penetrate, with
such ease and unobserved, the territory of a foe whom the proximity
of constant danger must have rendered habitually vigilant. The hills
of Southern Spain are still dotted with the numerous watch-towers
raised by the prudence of the Moors, upon whose summits and from
the neighboring mountain peaks a chain of signal-fires conveyed
instantaneously the intelligence that the enemy was abroad.

Stealthily the Christian army pursued its way in the darkness
under the direction of trusty guides, painfully clambering up the
mountain-sides by the uncertain light of the stars, skirting the
borders of precipices, hiding in the depths of gloomy ravines, until
an hour before dawn on the third day found them in a valley within a
mile and a half of Alhama. This city was in the very centre of Granada
and was accounted one of the keys of the capital, from which it was but
twenty-four miles distant. Under ordinary circumstances an attack upon
it seemed hopeless. Situated upon a mountain spur, it was protected by
walls not surpassed in height and solidity by those of any fortified
place in the Peninsula. A stupendous chasm, several hundred feet in
depth, through which rushed the roaring Marchan, defended its approach
and enhanced the difficulty of its capture. The hot-baths in its
vicinity, known to the Romans and largely patronized by the luxurious
inhabitants of the metropolis, had not enervated the mountaineers of
Alhama, whose reputation for ferocity and valor had been established
in many a frontier skirmish and extended foray. Rendered doubly secure
by the natural situation and impregnable bulwarks of the city, the
garrison insensibly relaxed its vigilance. No apprehension of an
attack was entertained even by the most timorous citizen. The time
was especially propitious to a surprise. The governor was absent at
Velez-Malaga. An inefficient patrol] was maintained. During the last
hour of the night when slumber is deepest, Ortega del Prado, with
thirty picked men, planted the ladders and mounted the ramparts of the
citadel. A single sentinel was pierced with a score of daggers before
he could give the alarm. In the mean time, three hundred soldiers had
scaled the walls; the guard, half-awake, perished in its quarters;
the garrison rushed to arms; and the shrill notes of the Moorish
trumpet, mingled with the shouts of the assailants and the cries of
the dying, resounded through the city. The mountaineers, although
taken by surprise, were not dismayed. The narrow and crooked streets
offered excellent opportunities for defence. These were barricaded,
and all access to the gates cut off. The Spaniards were besieged in
turn; it was impossible to retire; the steep and contracted entrance to
the castle was commanded by the Moorish cross-bowmen and musketeers,
whose aim promised almost certain death. Sancho de Avila, Governor of
Carmona, and Nicholas de Rojas, Governor of Arcos, in an attempt to
lead a forlorn hope, instantly paid the penalty of their rashness,
and fell pierced with bolts. The situation was critical. After a day
of constant fighting, no foothold had been obtained in the city. The
King of Granada was hourly expected. There were no provisions, and
the Spaniards outside the walls could not reinforce their comrades.
Opinions were divided as to the best course to adopt, but the bold
counsels of the Marquis of Cadiz eventually prevailed. A breach was
made in the wall of the citadel; through it a number of Spanish knights
were enabled to make a sudden sally, and the enemy sullenly retired
from his position. Every street now became a battle-ground; from the
housetops tiles and stones were rained down upon the Christians; the
Moors, animated by the expectation of speedy relief and aware that
their most precious interests were at stake, contested every foot
of ground with the energy of despair. Driven from the streets, they
took refuge in the principal mosque, where for a time they maintained
themselves in spite of the most determined attempts to dislodge them.
At length, under the shelter of improvised mantelets, the doors
were set on fire, and its occupants rushing out were cut to pieces
or captured. The burning of the mosque terminated the struggle, a
memorable one in the annals of Moorish warfare, both from the audacious
character of the enterprise and the intrepid obstinacy of the defence.
In no subsequent engagement of the Conquest did the Christians
encounter such a desperate resistance. In many respects the taking of
Alhama was of great importance. It revealed unmistakably the weakness
of the Moslem kingdom, and it placed an enemy’s outpost within a few
hours’ march of Granada. It was an ill omen for the permanence of a
monarchy when a stronghold of such strategic value could be captured
and retained at the very gates of its capital. The spoil of Alhama
well repaid the perils incurred to obtain it. It was the wealthiest
city of its size in the Moorish dominions. The royal tribute of the
entire district was collected there, and it fell into the hands of
the victors. The captives numbered three thousand. A great quantity
of treasure, of valuable merchandise of every description, of horses
and mules, rewarded the daring of the Castilians. Not thinking the
city would be permanently occupied, the soldiers hastened to destroy
the oil and wheat in the magazines. Scarcely had the work of pillage
been completed when a detachment of Moorish cavalry appeared. Unable
to retrieve a disaster which rumor had ascribed to a small party of
adventurers, after a reconnoissance they returned to Granada. Every
effort of the Moorish king was now exerted to retake Alhama before it
could be reinforced. His urgent summons rapidly called into the field
an army of eighty-one thousand men. With this force he advanced to
attack the city, neglecting, in his impetuous anxiety, to avail himself
of his fine train of artillery, without which he could not hope for
success. Meanwhile, the Christians had not been idle. Realizing their
desperate situation, they had despatched messengers to the Catholic
sovereigns imploring assistance. Many eminent leaders, whose previous
gallantry belied any suspicion of cowardice, counselled retreat. Their
remonstrances became more pressing as the great Moslem army deployed
about the city, and the convoy with supplies from Antequera, after
narrowly escaping capture, was driven back. The Moors were infuriated
by the sight of the bodies of their countrymen a prey to dogs, and,
disdaining the usual means of protection, dashed forward to scale the
battlements. The impregnability of the fortifications of Alhama, when
properly defended, now became apparent. The heroic efforts of the
besiegers were exerted in vain. The ladders swarming with the lithe
and active soldiery were overturned and, with their burdens, dashed to
pieces. The missiles of the Christians made great havoc in the dense
masses of the enemy, who, regardless of danger, hurled themselves
against the defences. Assault followed assault with the same result. An
attempt to open a mine under the wall failed on account of the hardness
of the rock and the want of necessary implements and protective
appliances. Then another expedient was tried. The water-supply of
Alhama was obtained from the stream partly encircling it, which was
reached by a winding stairway cut through the very centre of the
cliff. After almost superhuman efforts to prevent it, the stream was
diverted from its channel; and the opening of the subterranean passage,
commanded by a picked body of cross-bowmen, offered to the besieged the
alternative of death by thirst or by the weapons of the enemy. Every
drop of water was now only to be obtained after a conflict, and the
little that was thus secured was often tinged with blood.

The news that the Marquis of Cadiz and his companions were shut up in
Alhama produced great consternation in every province of the kingdom.
There was scarcely a prominent Andalusian family which did not have a
representative with the expedition. The honor of the crown, the glory
of the Spanish arms, the safety of beloved relatives, the success of
future enterprises, perhaps the fate of the Moorish kingdom itself,
were staked upon the result. Hereditary prejudices were cast aside.
The Duke of Medina-Sidonia forgot his animosity towards his rival
and appeared at the head of his numerous vassals. Ferdinand took the
field in person. A suggestive indication of the military spirit and
the resources of the Spanish monarchy at that time is afforded by the
fact that within a week an army of forty-five thousand men, completely
equipped, was marshalled ready for battle. The King of Granada dared
not risk an encounter with this powerful force. The flower of the
Moslem youth had perished in the bloody yet fruitless engagements of
the siege. The survivors were discouraged by these repeated reverses;
the opportunity to retrieve a disaster attributable to negligence
rather than to misfortune had been lost; and, with a heavy heart, Muley
Hassan retired to face the resentment and endure the execrations of the
fierce and seditious populace of his capital.

The serious dispute concerning the distribution of the plunder which
arose between the two divisions of the Christian army gives us an
insight into national manners, and discloses the principal motive with
which these national crusades were prosecuted. The cupidity of the
relieving force was aroused at the sight of the rich booty secured
by their comrades who had stormed the town, and they demanded it as
their own, alleging, with some reason, that without their timely aid
it would have been inevitably lost. The honor acquired by the rescue
of their countrymen and the glory of maintaining the Christian cause
were inconsiderable in comparison with the spoil to which they declared
themselves entitled. The feeling ran so high that all the influence of
the Duke of Medina-Sidonia and other powerful nobles was required to
prevent an appeal to arms.

The Spanish army having withdrawn, the King of Granada, this time
abundantly provided with artillery and munitions of war, again invested
Alhama. The thickness of the walls, however, resisted even the fire
of the Moorish lombards, at that epoch the best served, and, indeed,
almost the only ordnance in Europe. One night, just after sunset,
Muley Hassan summoned to his tent forty young cavaliers of the most
distinguished families of the Arab nobility. When assembled, they were
informed that he had selected them to carry the town by escalade.
The ambition of the Moorish youth was inflamed by the confidence
reposed in them by their King, and the perilous service was accepted
with enthusiasm. Supported by a numerous detachment, the daring
adventurers approached the highest part of the wall. Its vicinity was
so difficult of access that the garrison, considering this portion of
the defences impregnable, maintained a careless watch. But the active
intrepidity of the Moors overcame this apparently insurmountable
obstacle, and the little band of assailants attained the summit of the
ramparts unobserved. Of two sentinels they encountered, one was put
to death, but the other, escaping, gave the alarm. Already seventy
Moors had penetrated into the streets and others were ascending the
ladders. A few moments more and the city would have been taken.
The scaling-party, overwhelmed by numbers, were all killed or made
prisoners; the supporting forces which were mounting the walls or had
silently approached the gates were driven back; a vigilant patrol
was established; and the most promising attempt devised by Moorish
ingenuity and daring for the recovery of Alhama was frustrated.

Fully awake now to the difficulty of preserving their conquest, the
Catholic sovereigns made for the first time adequate preparations for
its defence. The garrison was strongly reinforced. Forty thousand
beasts of burden were required to transport the enormous quantity of
provisions and military supplies which were deposited in its arsenal
and magazines. The city had been taken the first day of March, 1482.
The second retreat of the Moors took place on the twenty-third of the
month. The interval had been one of almost constant battle. Hundreds of
lives had been lost on both sides. The military operations connected
with the capture of Alhama in the gravity and significance of their
results far surpassed those which decided the fate of any other
fortified place during the war of Granada, the capital alone excepted.
The prestige its possession imparted to the Spanish arms was of greater
value than even its paramount importance as a base of operations in
the heart of the enemy’s country. Its loss was a fatal blow to the
Moorish cause. The unpopularity of Muley Hassan increased; his army
was disheartened; the murmurs of the seditious mob of the city grew
more threatening; and the faction of the palace hastened to perfect the
conspiracy which was soon to result in the downfall of the Moslem power.

The furious spirit of the jealous Ayesha had pursued its designs with
all the energy of disappointed ambition and implacable revenge. The
hated slave Zoraya was now the first sultana, and had superseded her
rival in royal precedence as well as in the affections of her husband.
The vizier, Abul-Kasim-Venegas, the son of a noble Christian renegade,
to whom the Emir, infatuated with the beautiful favorite, had resigned
the direction of affairs, was practically the ruler of the kingdom.
The intimacy enjoyed by these two confidants of foreign descent and
detested lineage was urged as little less than treason by the scheming
adherents of Ayesha. Some time previously, by the advice of the
vizier, the insolence of certain chiefs of the Abencerrages had been
punished by summary execution. The support of that powerful tribe was
thus forever alienated from the King; its members eagerly listened to
the overtures of the rebellious party; and the proud and vindictive
African cavaliers expected with impatience the hour of retribution.

The reverse at Alhama was the signal for revolt. The King had scarcely
returned before serious riots, led by the Abencerrages, were reported
in the Albaycin. It was no secret who was really responsible for these
disturbances; and Ayesha and her son Boabdil, whom, although still a
youth, it was intended to place upon the throne, were promptly arrested
and imprisoned in the great tower of Comares in the Alhambra. This
decisive step insured the public safety for the time. The rioters
dispersed, the leaders concealed themselves, and the city resumed its
ordinary aspect of quiet and peace. But this apparent tranquillity was
of short duration. The female slaves of Ayesha, having made a rope
of their veils, lowered the young prince from a window of the tower
overlooking the Darro, where the Abencerrage chieftains awaited him;
and at dawn, escorted by a considerable band of horsemen, he was far on
his way to Guadix, whose alcalde was one of his partisans.

Ignorant of the extent of the conspiracy or of the number of exalted
personages implicated in it, Muley Hassan attached but little
importance to the escape of his rebellious son. But, a few days
afterwards, while the King was enjoying the luxurious seclusion
of one of his suburban palaces, a great tumult arose in the city.
Information was brought to him that the Abencerrages had proclaimed the
sovereignty of Boabdil; that, incited by the presence of the prince
and the shouts of his supporters, the populace of the Albaycin had
again risen in arms; that the revolution was rapidly gaining ground
and seemed about to involve the entire city; and, worse than all, that
the alcalde Ibn-Comixa had raised the rebel standard on the citadel of
the Alhambra. The African guards, led by the vizier, in vain attempted
to stem the tide of insurrection. Muley Hassan himself, who hoped by
his presence to awe the seditious multitude, was received with shouts
of defiance and derision. At dawn the entire population of Granada
assembled and expelled the King and his adherents, who fled in disorder
to the castle of Mondujar. The friends and relatives of the dethroned
monarch, apprised of his misfortune, hastened to tender their aid
and sympathy. A band of five hundred was selected for an attempt to
recover the capital. Attired in black, on a cloudy night, they scaled
the walls of the Alhambra. Every soldier whom they encountered was put
to death. The alarm spread; the garrison withdrew to the towers of the
citadel; and the assailants, descending to the city, were soon engaged
with the insurgents in a hand-to-hand conflict in the streets. The
midnight tumult aroused the entire population, and the light of torches
and tapers soon disclosed the insignificant numbers of the enemy. The
citizens, animated by the consciousness of strength, by the constant
arrival of reinforcements, and by the fear of punishment, fought with
determined courage; and the King, after leaving more than half of his
followers on the field, only escaped through the obscurity of the
night. Extricating himself with difficulty from the labyrinth of narrow
lanes in the suburbs, he pursued his way to Malaga, which city remained
loyal to his cause. An implacable triangular struggle, in which
Moslem autonomy could not fail in the end to be destroyed, was now
inaugurated. Two kings and two courts, inflamed with mutual resentment,
each determined, by any expedient, to accomplish the ruin of the other,
were in arms. Every community was distracted by the quarrels of hostile
factions. Partisan discord afflicted even the remote settlements of
the Sierras. On the other side was the common enemy, aggressive,
united, vigilant; more powerful in numbers, more fertile in resources,
than at any former period. At no time in the history of the Moorish
occupation had the demand for unanimity in the national councils been
so imperative, and yet at no time had those councils been so divided.
Anxiety for party success had in the minds of the infuriated Moors
obliterated all concern for the public welfare. Even the semblance of
patriotism, and that religious zeal more important in the eyes of the
Moslem than attachment to his country, were overcome by the bitterness
of factional animosity. With union and co-operation the ultimate result
of the contest could not be doubtful, but it might have been prolonged,
and the evil day of persecution and servitude have been deferred for
perhaps another century. Under the existing political conditions, with
provincial disintegration aided by foreign hostility, national ruin was
swift and certain.

The Christians were quick to grasp the opportunities afforded by these
dissensions. Already Ferdinand, at the head of a numerous force, had
overrun the Vega, leaving behind him a smoking track of devastation.
From the ramparts of Granada the Moors beheld, with impotent rage and
despair, the flames of mills and farm-houses, the massacre of peasants,
and the destruction of orange-groves and olive-plantations. Thousands
of sheep and cattle became the spoil of the Castilians in this foray,
and the supplies of Alhama, already sufficient for a siege of many
months’ duration, were again replenished, this time with the plundered
harvests of the unfortunate Moslems of the Vega. In spite of its
massive defences, its plentiful supplies, and its numerous garrison,
the retention of that place was doubtful so long as its communications
with the provinces of the Spanish monarchy might be interrupted. The
Vega of Granada was approached through an opening in the mountains
guarded by the ancient city of Loja. Founded by Abdallah, Khalif
of Cordova, it had long been regarded as one of the most important
fortified places in the Peninsula. Its great castle and frowning walls
imparted a forbidding aspect to the town, which was, however, more than
compensated by the beautiful and picturesque environs that encircled
it, not the least important of its attractions being the vineyards and
olive-orchards which covered every declivity. Its irrigating system,
dependent upon the Genil and other smaller streams, had been extended
by the industrious inhabitants until the country, for many leagues,
exhibited the highest attainable state of cultivation.

The capture of Loja was now a military necessity. While it remained
in the hands of the Moors the possession of Alhama could never be
absolutely secure. Once in the power of the Spaniards, an unobstructed
way was opened into the Vega, and the capital itself might at any
time be threatened. The governor of the city was Aliatar, who, reared
amidst the quiet of mercantile pursuits, had, by the display of
military ability and reckless courage, attained great renown in arms.
His exploits were the theme of all Andalusia. The frequency of his
marauding expeditions in the vicinity of Lucena had gained for that
district the name of the “Garden of Aliatar.” Moraima, his favorite
daughter, was the wife of Boabdil. For nearly two generations he had
been an active spirit in every campaign against the Christians, but
the accumulation of years had neither damped his ardor nor diminished
his activity. His wealth was expended in the maintenance of troops and
the ransom of captives. So few were the luxuries which he reserved for
his family that his daughter was compelled to borrow jewels in order
to appear with becoming dignity before her betrothed lover, the heir
to the Moslem throne. This famous chieftain was now more than seventy
years of age. Familiar with every artifice of guerilla warfare, brave
even to the extreme of rashness, fertile in the resources imparted by
the varied experiences of a long and adventurous career, beloved by his
followers, dreaded by his enemies, it would have been difficult to find
within the limits of Granada a more formidable and capable adversary
than this doughty old Moslem commander.

Elated by the success of his recent expedition in the Vega, Ferdinand,
expecting an easy conquest, hastened to lay siege to Loja. With only
thirteen thousand men, ill-provided with the necessary equipment and
without even sufficient rations to supply him for a week, on the first
day of July, 1482, he encamped before the city. It was soon perceived
that his army was not strong enough to even properly invest it. The
inequalities of the ground, whose natural ruggedness was increased by
innumerable trees and hedges, rendered it impossible for the lines to
remain unbroken or for the various divisions to preserve communication
with each other. On the level land and in the valley, a maze of
intersecting canals made the evolutions of cavalry difficult and often
impracticable. The partial isolation of the different detachments
of the besieging army not only rendered them constantly liable to
surprise, but diminished their confidence and greatly impaired their
efficiency. The disorderly arrangement of the Spaniards, thus seriously
hampered by the nature of their surroundings, was soon perceived by
the Moors. Aliatar, at the head of three thousand horsemen, quietly
issued from the western gate, concealed several hundred of his
bravest warriors amidst the rank vegetation of the orchards, and
suddenly attacked the post commanded by Don Rodrigo Giron, Master of
Calatrava. The Christians, although taken unawares, defended themselves
bravely; the Moors retreated in apparent confusion; and their unwary
antagonists, impelled by their headlong impetuosity, were soon
intercepted by the ambuscade. The retiring enemy now returned to the
charge, and the Spanish knights, assailed in both front and rear, with
difficulty held their ground. The Master of Calatrava, conspicuous for
his gallantry as well as well as for the richness of his dress, which
bore the peculiar cross of his order, became the target for a cloud of
missiles, two of which having penetrated a vital part, the intrepid
young cavalier fell dying from his horse. It was only by superhuman
efforts that any of his followers escaped a similar fate. Many were
killed and wounded, but at last the superior weight and armor of the
Spaniards prevailed, and the Moorish trumpets sounded a retreat.
Encumbered with the bodies of their unfortunate companions, the
surviving knights returned to their encampment, where the overturned
tents and broken equipage which, mingled in dire confusion, everywhere
strewed the ground, attested the fierceness of an attack that had
resulted so disastrously to the Christian arms. It now became evident
to even the arrogant and opinionated Ferdinand that something more than
military enthusiasm was necessary to successfully conduct a siege.
Without reluctance he consented to withdraw to the Rio Frio until an
army already on the march from Cordova to reinforce him should arrive.
Want of discipline or inexcusable neglect prevented the communication
of this design to the different commanders; and when, at daybreak,
the tents were struck on the height of Abul-Hassan, and the vigilant
Aliatar, ready for any emergency, stormed the outpost, a frightful
panic arose. The exultant cries of the Moors and the appearance of
their standards in the Spanish camp created the impression among the
besiegers that Aliatar had been reinforced, and that they were in
imminent danger of defeat and capture. The general alarm was increased
by the unexpected removal of the tents of the detachment, by the
memory of the prowess of their enemies and the advantage the latter
had recently gained, and especially by their own lamentable want of
self-reliance, inspired by their isolated position and defective
discipline. The terrified infantry fled at once in a body, throwing
the knights, who in vain attempted to rally them, into confusion. The
Moors, planting a battery on a commanding eminence, by the accuracy
of their fire increased the general disorder. Their desperate charges
against the escort guarding the King, which, though outnumbered and
surrounded, maintained its ground with inflexible resolution, for a
time made the issue doubtful. Never during his life was Ferdinand in
greater danger. His bravest captains were wounded and unhorsed. The
Marquis of Cadiz, at the head of seventy knights, received undismayed
the furious attack of the Moslem horsemen. Dismounted, and armed only
with his sword, this gallant hero, fighting in the front of the line,
performed prodigies of valor; and his followers, emulating his example,
made such an obstinate resistance that the assailants, exhausted
by their efforts, finally withdrew from the field. The rout of the
Christian army was complete. The siege had lasted only five days. Some
of the terror-stricken fugitives did not halt until they had placed
a distance of twenty miles between themselves and the scene of their
disgrace. Only the heroic efforts of a handful of cavaliers had saved
the King from capture. For more than a league the ground was strewn
with abandoned clothing, standards, and weapons. The siege-train fell
into the hands of the enemy. Flushed with victory, the soldiers of
Aliatar, amidst the acclamations of their countrymen, re-entered the
city enriched with the spoils of the Christian camp.

The disastrous result of the attempt upon Loja filled the isolated
garrison of Alhama with the direst apprehensions. It required all
the address and authority of the governor, Don Luis Portocarrero, to
dissuade his command from wholesale desertion. The sudden appearance of
a Moorish army added to their fears, and only the prompt relief sent by
Isabella preserved to the Spanish Crown this important fortress, gained
at such cost, and defended with such difficulty. The Moors retired;
a new garrison was introduced; and Don Juan de Vera assumed command,
supported by several youthful knights who had voluntarily sought this
post of danger, ambitious of adventure and distinction. Among them
was Hernan Perez del Pulgar, whose career resembles that of a paladin
of romance, and who was destined to great celebrity in the ensuing
operations of the war with Granada.

Muley Hassan, in his palace at Malaga, had learned with indignation of
the investment of Loja. Collecting his forces, he prepared to go to the
aid of that city when news reached him of the repulse and withdrawal of
the Christians. Deeming himself secure from interference, and bent on
revenge, he descended with seventy-five hundred men upon the fertile
district of Medina-Sidonia. The vicinity of Gibraltar and Algeziras,
the plains of Estepona--in short, all of that region as far as the
River Celemin--experienced the awful atrocities of border warfare.
The operations were planned and executed with systematic regularity
under the direction of the King in person. The army was divided into
detachments, to each of which was assigned a separate territory as
its exclusive prey. By this arrangement much time was saved, and the
devastation was rendered more complete. On all sides rose the smoke of
burning harvests and dwellings. From every point of the compass armed
squadrons brought spoil and prisoners to the Moslem head-quarters. The
cattle alone numbered more than five thousand. It was years since the
Moors had secured such a booty. Impunity had relaxed the vigilance
of the inhabitants of that portion of Andalusia, long exempt from
the efforts of Moslem enterprise and audacity. The accumulations of
industry were therefore more accessible and less diligently guarded
than in localities constantly exposed to the inroads of the enemy.
On his return, Muley Hassan fell into an ambuscade, where his cattle
were stampeded and many of them lost; but the injury he received was
trifling, and a few days afterwards he entered Malaga in triumph.

This bold achievement of the Moorish king aroused the martial emulation
of the Castilian cavaliers, mortified by the triumph of an infidel
foe. In March, 1483, several of the chiefs of the greatest houses of
the kingdom met at Antequera, accompanied by their vassals, to agree
upon a plan of campaign. The influence and obstinacy of Don Alonzo
de Cardenas, Grand Master of Santiago, dominated the assembly, in
opposition to the counsels of leaders of great and varied experience;
and the Ajarquia, a rugged and sparsely settled district north of
Malaga, which exaggerated reports had declared to be filled with
innumerable herds of cattle, was selected as the object of the
expedition. In a long and irregular line the adventurers entered the
gloomy defiles of the Sierra. The advance guard was commanded by Don
Alonzo de Aguilar; in the centre were the Count of Cifuentes and the
Marquis of Cadiz; the rear, as the post of danger and honor, was in
charge of the Grand Master of Santiago. As the Spaniards penetrated
farther into the mountains, the aspect of the country became more and
more forbidding. The paths were dangerous and uncertain. Precipitous
cliffs towered far above their heads. At times the road skirted the
borders of chasms whose depths were invisible and denoted only by the
faint roaring of some distant torrent. Not a living thing was in sight.
Everywhere the silence of desolation prevailed, and, except a few
deserted hovels, there was nothing to indicate the presence of man. The
soldiers, exasperated by disappointment and careless of danger, pursued
their way in noisy disorder. The huts of the shepherds, set on fire by
the advance guard, cast a lurid light over the gloomy landscape and
disclosed the broken and scattered ranks of the Spaniards, who, in an
unknown country, buried in the cavernous recesses of the mountains and
surrounded by enemies, neglected to observe even the precautions of
an ordinary march. The approach of night redoubled the embarrassment,
already sufficiently serious. The guides, misled by a multiplicity of
paths and apprehensive of danger, lost their way. All order was now at
an end; the number of stragglers grew more numerous in the darkness;
the main body, whose progress was impeded by the mule-train loaded with
camp equipage, was thrown into confusion; and through the obscurity the
signal-fires of the enemy could be seen on the mountain-tops flashing
far and wide the movements of the expedition. While the trouble and
turmoil were greatest, the rear guard, where the military habits of
the Knights of Santiago still preserved an appearance of obedience
and discipline, was attacked by the mountaineers. From inaccessible
heights showers of arrows and stones of enormous size descended upon
the helpless cavaliers, whose disadvantageous position did not suffer
them either to defend themselves or to dislodge their enemies. As
the number of the latter, summoned by the signal-fires, increased,
the rest of the army became involved in the hopeless contest; where,
in a contracted valley, crowded together in a struggling mass, the
foolhardy band of Christian adventurers seemed devoted to inevitable
destruction. Meanwhile, the chain of lights and the swiftness of
agile couriers had conveyed to Malaga information of the presence of
enemies in the Ajarquia. Abdallah-al-Zagal, brother of the King, and
his equal in military experience and prowess, and Redwan Venegas, a
distinguished chieftain, at once set out with a strong body of cavalry
for the scene of action. The first ray of dawn revealed to the harassed
Christians the well-armed troops of the King on the heights far above
them. With almost inconceivable rapidity, considering the obstacles
presented by the ground, the mountaineers for a distance of many miles
had assembled in defence of their homes. All the exits of the Ajarquia
were guarded. A detachment of Berbers occupied the pass on the side
of the sea, prepared to intercept all who might attempt to escape in
that direction. As soon as the light of day enabled the Spaniards to
fully realize the extent of the peril that threatened them, they were
almost ready to give way to despair. From the shelter of rock and
trees, the adroit cross-bowmen of Venegas picked off with impunity all
conspicuous for their dress or armor. Those who were not pierced with
missiles or crushed with rocks were hurled headlong over precipices.
Resistance and flight seemed equally useless. The Spaniards deserting
their colors, each solicitous for his individual safety, scattered in
every direction. The Grand Master of Santiago, by a resolute charge in
which the most of his surviving comrades were lost, managed to reach
the summit of the mountain, and, cutting his way through the astonished
peasants, made his escape. Abdallah-al-Zagal, who, with the larger part
of the detachment from Malaga, was posted at the only pass south of the
Ajarquia, intercepted a small band of fugitives whose broken weapons
and battered armor indicated the desperate peril to which they had
recently been exposed. Among these were the Marquis of Cadiz, Alonzo
de Aguilar, and the Count of Cifuentes. Unable to advance farther,
by dint of strenuous efforts they maintained their position until
night. Then the Marquis, guided by a resolute and experienced scout in
his service, threaded the dangerous paths of the sierra and finally
reached Antequera. The Count of Cifuentes was surrounded and taken.
Alonzo de Aguilar and his companions concealed themselves in caves and
thickets, remaining quiet by day and travelling at night, subsisting
upon roots and herbs, until they succeeded in joining their countrymen
at the frontier outposts. For many days the unfortunate Castilians,
one by one, their arms and armor lost, their clothes torn to rags,
gaunt with famine, tottering with fatigue, straggled, half-demented,
into the cities of Alhama and Antequera. Of the entire number who had
enlisted in the hazardous enterprise less than half escaped. Nearly a
hundred were killed. Eight hundred and twenty-five were carried captive
to Malaga. Four hundred of those highest in rank were set aside for
ransom. Two hundred more were imprisoned in the dungeons of Granada and
Ronda. Among the dead were two brothers of the Marquis of Cadiz, Gomez
Mendez de Sotomayor, Governor of Utrera, and many other noblemen of
illustrious rank. More than thirty commanders of the Order of Santiago
perished or were captured. So great was the terror of the Christians
who strayed aimlessly through the defiles and along the slopes of the
mountains, that in many cases four or five surrendered to a single
unarmed enemy. Even the peasant women made prisoners of fugitives
overcome with terror and weakness whom they encountered in the suburbs
of Malaga. The booty was increased by the large sums of money intrusted
to the soldiers by their friends for the purchase of cattle, slaves,
and jewels, in the expectation of certain victory and abundant spoil.
Nothing in the annals of Spanish conquest indicates its mercenary
character more clearly than this significant circumstance. The devout
chroniclers, lamenting the avarice of their countrymen, refer to this
crushing defeat as a manifest proof of the wrath of Providence. The
example of Alhama had induced the Spaniards to consider their arms as
invincible. The treasure found in that city had aroused the cupidity
of every adventurer in the Peninsula. This overweening confidence had
now received a serious check. In all the cities of Andalusia there
was distress and mourning; in the court unconcealed dismay; in nearly
every family the anguish of suffering or the more harrowing bitterness
of suspense. A fatal blow had been struck at Spanish prestige. The
affair of the Ajarquia, following closely upon the repulse at Loja, had
not only tarnished the lustre of their arms, but had diminished the
estimate in which the Catholic sovereigns were held in Europe. Less
than six hundred peasants were engaged in the fight which terminated
in the rout of the Andalusian nobles, who, with their retainers,
outnumbered their assailants seven to one. The banners, the emblazoned
surcoats, the magnificent harnesses, the war-horses, followed by the
most illustrious captives in chains, were exhibited, for the exultation
of the people and the glory of Al-Zagal, in the cities of Ronda, Loja,
Malaga, and Granada. The prisoners not considered valuable enough to be
reserved for ransom and the camp followers and traders, who expected
anything but this result, were sold at auction with the equipage, the
mules, and the other spoils of war.

These successive military exploits of Muley Hassan contributed greatly
to his popularity and imparted a prodigious impulse to his cause.
Many adventurous spirits of the kingdom, who had hitherto held aloof,
now joined his standard. The defection of a number of influential
partisans, attracted to Malaga by the prospect of plunder and renown,
alarmed the faction of Boabdil, who, heedless of the perils that
menaced his country, remained shamefully inert in the paradise of the
Alhambra. Forced at length to action by the indignant remonstrances
of his mother and the Abencerrages, who daily observed the evidences
of his waning power, he reluctantly prepared for a foray into the
land of the Christians. The frontiers of Cordova were selected as
the scene of operations, for the lords of that territory had nearly
all been left on the field of the Ajarquia or were still immured in
Moorish dungeons. At the head of nine thousand infantry and seven
hundred cavalry, the Moslem prince took his departure from Granada.
With ill-advised ostentation the army proceeded to Loja, where Aliatar
joined it with a squadron of veterans, whose experience was of far more
practical value than the vainglorious array of young cavaliers who
formed the splendid bodyguard of the King. Unlike his father, whose
plans were carried out with the silence and rapidity which insure
success, Boabdil displayed in his march all the pomp and deliberation
of a royal progress. Indebted to his folly and inexperience, the
Christians, fully apprised of his movements, were already prepared for
his reception. A small but resolute body of cavaliers under Don Diego
Fernandez de Cordova, Alcalde de los Donceles, had been collected at
Lucena. The Moors, having passed the Genil and ravaged the districts of
Montilla and Aguilar, marching in disorder and encumbered with booty,
directed their course towards that place, with a view of taking it by
storm. On the twentieth of April the Castilian signals announced the
proximity of the enemy. The city of Lucena was not adapted, either
by reason of formidable defences or of a numerous population, to
offer a prolonged resistance to such an army as now threatened it.
The citizens, accustomed to border alarms, behaved with the utmost
intrepidity. An attack of the Moors was repulsed with great loss. In
retaliation for this unexpected result, the orchards in the vicinity
were cut down and every building that could be reached destroyed. This
work of ruin accomplished, a peremptory demand to surrender was sent to
the governor. The latter, aware of the approach of the Count of Cabra
with reinforcements, temporized with the Moslems until their scouts
advised them that the Christian banners were in sight, when, unwilling
to risk the loss of their plunder, they retired slowly towards the
Genil. The Spaniards, though greatly inferior in number, were unwilling
to abandon the present opportunity for an engagement upon more equal
terms, and followed closely the retreating Moslems. Dividing their
forces near the river, one detachment was sent forward to surprise the
vanguard,--which was conducting the flocks and the captives,--while
the remainder harassed the rear. Thus attacked on every side, where
the dense forest concealed the insignificant numbers of the enemy,
the Moors, unaccustomed to the restraints of discipline, became
terror-stricken and fled. The efforts of Boabdil and his commanders to
rally them were fruitless. A frightful massacre resulted; the fugitives
were pierced with lances or trampled under the hoofs of the charging
squadrons; on the banks of the stream, already heaped up with the
dead, hundreds sank under the strokes of the heavy Toledo blades. With
conspicuous gallantry, Boabdil and Aliatar, supported by a handful of
followers, attempted to check the irresistible onset of their foes.
Oppressed by the weight of numbers, the veteran Moslem captain was
cut down, and his body, swept away by the swift current of the Genil,
was never seen again. The magnificent appearance of the King; his
damascened armor and cloak of crimson velvet embroidered with gold; the
rich caparison of his horse; the beauty of his weapons, indicating a
person of distinction, made him the target for a thousand missiles.
Pierced with a shot, his horse fell under him. Mingled with a crowd of
foot-soldiers, who were pressing on to the river, he found his progress
obstructed by a pile of cattle, which during the confusion of the rout
had been trampled to death in the mire. The impetuosity of the pursuers
admitted of no delay, and the distressed fugitive, turning aside,
attempted to conceal himself among the laurels and brambles that lined
the banks of the stream. His showy costume betrayed him, and he was at
once intercepted by Martin Hurtado, a petty official of Lucena, who,
after a slight resistance, effected his capture. While his identity was
unsuspected, his exalted rank was evident; and the comrades of Hurtado,
desirous of sharing the ransom of such a distinguished personage,
attempted to deprive him of the credit of the exploit. A serious
altercation ensued, and the soldiery prepared to establish their rival
pretensions by force of arms, when the opportune arrival of the Alcalde
de los Donceles ended the dispute. Interposing his authority, he caused
the illustrious prisoner to be conducted to Lucena, where, although
closely guarded, he was treated with the greatest respect until an
investigation might establish his rank and determine the sum to be
exacted for his release.

The victory of Lucena more than counteracted the effect of the disaster
in the Ajarquia. The Moorish army was practically annihilated; of
nine thousand seven hundred scarcely two hundred escaped. The list of
killed and missing included the names of the most eminent nobles and
citizens of Granada. A thousand horses, nine hundred mules, twenty-two
standards, the sumptuous tents and furniture of the royal household,
and all the spoil taken in the fertile plains of Lucena and Aguilar
were the fruits of the victory. Thus the varying fortune of war, like
the vibration of a pendulum, again swung towards the side of the
Christians; but in the future its impetus was to be retarded, and
finally repelled forever from the cause of the Moors, whose complete
disorganization had long portended irretrievable disaster.

The news of the defeat and capture of Boabdil terrified the capital.
The absence of the King and his most powerful adherents made it
impossible for the faction of Ayesha to resist the advance of Muley
Hassan, who, without delay, resumed possession of his throne. With
no apparent difficulty, he re-established his authority; but, with
an infatuation not easy to explain, he permitted the deposed sultana
to retire with her treasures to the citadel of the Alcazaba, an act
of singular imprudence, considering her vindictive character, her
political influence, and her well-known talent for intrigue.

The identity of Boabdil having been ascertained through the respectful
homage paid him by Moorish captives accidentally taken into his
presence, he was removed by order of Ferdinand to the castle of
Porcuna. With his usual caution, the Spanish king determined, before
deciding what disposition to make of his prisoner, to weaken his
remaining power as much as possible by an extensive foray into his
dominions. By this design he not only contemplated the destruction of
the ripening harvests cultivated to replenish the granaries of the
capital, but also the aggravation of factional hostility, which would
be intensified by indiscriminate devastation, and thus still further
impair the allegiance of the people to rulers either incapable of
sympathy or indisposed to defence.

The expedition was organized on a tremendous scale. All the provinces
of the kingdom were laid under contribution. A body of Swiss
adventurers, whose arms and accoutrements were regarded with curiosity
by the Spaniards, few of whom had ever heard of their country, brought
to the aid of the Catholic sovereigns their Helvetian obstinacy and
thorough discipline. The army proper was composed of ten thousand
cavalry and twenty thousand foot. A body of thirty thousand men, whose
sole duty was to destroy, was provided with axes, saws, and fagots. In
addition to these was a host of non-combatants, muleteers, servants,
traders, and camp-followers. A train of eighty thousand beasts of
burden was required to transport supplies and munitions of war for
this great force. In the face of such a power, Granada, at the time
of its greatest prosperity, would have found resistance difficult. As
it was,--with one of its princes a captive and the other infirm and
detested, its population divided by faction and weakened by discontent
and misfortune,--there was no military organization capable of even
seriously harassing the invaders. The latter, therefore, pursued their
relentless course without hindrance. For a distance of many leagues,
and in full view of Granada, the country was swept bare of vegetation.
The orchards were destroyed. The vines were dug up. The harvests were
burnt. Not a tree or a shrub remained in what had so recently been a
paradise. In a single district three hundred farm-houses and towers
were committed to the flames. The net-work of silver rivulets, hitherto
concealed by myrtle hedges and pomegranate and almond groves, now
sparkled amidst a scene of sombre desolation; where the monotonous
level was only relieved by charred and smoking heaps of what had
been, but the day before, the picturesque, flower-embowered homes
of a prosperous and happy people. The numbers of the enemy, and the
organized system of destruction which he employed, enabled him in a few
hours to eradicate every trace of that agricultural skill which had
required centuries to develop and carry to perfection. Many towns were
taken by storm and abandoned to spoliation. From the walls of such as
offered a successful resistance, the dismayed inhabitants saw nothing
as far as the eye could reach but a desert. Having accomplished the
object of the expedition, Ferdinand disbanded his army and returned to
Cordova. The moral and physical effect of this inhuman policy upon the
Moors was more decisive than those of a dozen successful campaigns.
Their means of subsistence were gone. Their military spirit was broken.
Continually exposed to a repetition of such misfortunes, no incentive
for recuperation could exist. Under these circumstances, it is not
strange that great numbers of the Moslems, abandoned to despair,
should seriously contemplate a transfer of their allegiance to those
sovereigns who had hitherto been their ruthless enemies and oppressors.

A council composed of the principal personages of the realm was now
assembled at Cordova to decide what should be done with the Moorish
king. After much altercation and argument, it was decided to release
him, it being recognized that his captivity, by removing an element
of discord from the councils of the Moslems, would have a tendency
to reconcile the jarring factions and prolong the war. Two embassies
from Granada appeared before the assembled nobles,--one from Ayesha,
whom the blind folly of Muley Hassan permitted to plot treason
under the very shadow of his palace, and which was ready to make
any concessions to obtain the deliverance of the royal captive; the
other from his father, offering a magnificent reward for the delivery
of his rebellious son into his hands. The envoys of the Sultana
alone received an attentive hearing. Boabdil was to render homage to
the Spanish monarchs and pay an annual tribute of twelve thousand
doubloons of gold; to liberate four hundred captives, three-fourths
of them to be named by his master; and to permit unmolested passage
through his dominions to the Christian armies, and furnish them
with provisions whenever they were at war with Muley Hassan or his
brother Abdallah-al-Zagal. As a security for the performance of
these obligations, the son of the King and a number of the nobles of
Granada were to be delivered as hostages. Boabdil consented without
remonstrance or hesitation to the humiliating terms which insured his
freedom, and the convention was signed. A truce of two years’ duration
was agreed upon; and the illustrious captive, conducted to Cordova,
did homage to his suzerain surrounded by all the pomp of the Spanish
court. Then, provided with a numerous and splendid escort, he returned
to his kingdom, to receive the hollow congratulations of his partisans,
to encounter the contempt of his enemies, and to be the target for
the maledictions of the fickle and infuriated populace, which, not
unjustly, ascribed to his effeminacy and want of resolution the larger
share of the public distress.

The wisdom which advised the release of the Moslem king was not long
in obtaining confirmation. Whether he hesitated, even in a desperate
emergency, to proceed to extremities against his own flesh and blood,
or whether the vigilance which never slept amidst the operations of a
campaign faltered under circumstances of domestic peril, Muley Hassan,
although fully aware of the liberation of his son, made no attempt to
intercept him; and Boabdil, easily avoiding the sentinels and patrols
of the outposts, entered the Albaycin in the dead of night. Without
an hour’s delay his energetic mother called her adherents to arms. At
dawn, the signal for conflict once more resounded throughout the city.
Again the streets streamed with the best blood of the kingdom; again
the savage tribesmen of Africa renewed in the most polished capital of
Europe the fierce hostility which, generations before, had originated
in the depths of the Libyan Desert; again the undiscerning fury of
partisan discord dissipated those resources of wealth and martial
energy that might have saved an empire; disorders which promoted more
rapidly and effectually than a series of victories the designs of the
mortal foes of the Mussulmans of Granada. Considerations of political
expediency, reluctance to longer witness the shedding of blood which
must eventually terminate in the extirpation of the fighting men
of the kingdom, and the consciousness that their countrymen were
involuntarily rendering substantial aid to the Christian cause, induced
the more respectable class of citizens, the doctors of the law, and
the ministers of religion,--in short, those persons in the community
whose opinions were most entitled to respect,--to propose an armistice.
This suggestion having been agreed to with less hesitation than might
have been expected, and the timorous nature of Boabdil prevailing, to
a certain extent, over his ambition, he decided to relinquish for the
time his claims on the capital and remove his court and his following
to Almeria.

Muley Hassan, while thus temporarily delivered from the presence of
his rival, did not fail to realize the precarious character of his
tenure, or the dangers--all the more to be apprehended by reason of
the secrecy that enveloped them--which threatened the existence of
his authority. To counteract these perils and divert the minds of the
disaffected from sedition, he knew well that there was no expedient
so effective as the popular and glorious exercise of war. Amidst the
general demoralization and disgrace, his military reputation, acquired
in fifty campaigns, remained unimpaired and untarnished. Among his
adherents were to be found the ablest and most distinguished commanders
in the Moorish service. Hamet-al-Zegri, Alcalde of Ronda, and Bejer,
Governor of Malaga, had in the entire kingdom no equals in the arts
of investment and ambuscade, no superiors in enterprise and courage.
Twelve hundred picked horsemen and a large body of foot, under these
experienced leaders, were ordered to assemble at Ronda, and, proceeding
from this rendezvous, to overrun and ravage the rich plains of the
province of Seville. Unfortunately for the success of the expedition,
the movements of so many detachments of armed men converging to one
point aroused the suspicions of some Christian spies who were lurking
in the mountains near the former city. The destination of the force was
soon ascertained. The Andalusian chieftains lost no time in summoning
their vassals; and when the Moorish cavalry reached the vicinity of
Utrera they found the country under arms. In the manœuvres which
followed, the Christians employed their own tactics against the Moors
with signal success. The Moslem infantry had remained encamped in the
hills to hold the pass. Farther down, on the banks of the Lopera, a
squadron of cavalry had been stationed to be ready for any unforeseen
emergency. To a third division, comprising the flower of the army, was
assigned the duty of securing the plunder which their companions were
expected to guard during the retreat. The position of the enemy was
well known to the Castilians, whose scouts promptly advised them of
every movement. Leaving a small body of knights to engage the attention
of the marauding parties on the plain, the main body of the Spaniards
surprised and cut to pieces the division lying in ambush on the Lopera.
The noise of the conflict attracted the Berbers from below, but they
arrived too late, and were themselves routed and dispersed. Learning
of the defeat of their comrades, the infantry, who numbered several
thousand, but who in a contest with mail-clad knights were no better
than cowherds or muleteers, fled in confusion without striking a blow.
One fugitive band under Hamet-al-Zegri, guided by a Christian renegade,
reached the Serrania de Ronda in safety. Another, under the Alcalde of
Borje, whose followers had been present at the massacre of the Ajarquia
and wore the armor of the unfortunate cavaliers who had been killed
or taken in that engagement, was pursued, and almost destroyed by the
Marquis of Cadiz. In several instances the Spanish knights recognized
and recovered the arms and harnesses of which they had been despoiled
on that bloody day.

The defeat of Lopera added another disaster to those which announced
the declining fortunes of the Moslem power. The bravest defenders
of the throne of Muley Hassan had been swept away. His prestige was
seriously weakened. Only two hundred Moorish cavaliers returned from
this ill-fated expedition. The governor of Velez was killed; those of
Malaga, Marbella, Coin, Alora, and Comares remained in the hands of the
enemy. The credit for this victory, which reflected so much lustre on
the Spanish arms, was due to Don Luis Portocarrero, who had been the
first Christian governor of Alhama.

About this time the Marquis of Cadiz, ever alert to take advantage of
the negligence of the enemy, learned through his scouts that Zahara,
whose capture had signalized the opening of hostilities, might be
surprised. Making a feigned attack on the town with the main body
of his troops, a scaling-party ascended the walls of the citadel
unobserved, and but a few hours were necessary to regain possession of
the place without the loss of a single life.

Appreciating the necessity for continuous action as well as the
paramount importance of depriving the Moors of the capacity for
resistance by the systematic devastation of their country, Ferdinand
and Isabella now formulated the plan of a more extensive campaign
than had yet been attempted. It embraced the conquest of many towns of
note which had hitherto escaped, to a certain extent, the misfortunes
of war; the desolation of every accessible locality which still
preserved uninjured its crops, its orchards, and its plantations; the
indiscriminate burning of farm-houses, mills, and magazines; and,
finally, the capture of the great mountain fortress of Ronda, whose
remarkable site had caused it to be deemed impregnable, leaving out of
consideration the warlike and ferocious character of the mountaineers
and the African soldiery by whom it was inhabited and garrisoned.

A numerous army was collected at Cordova during the first days of
June, 1484. The train of artillery which was to accompany it was the
most complete and powerful that the imperfect knowledge of ordnance
possessed by that age was capable of providing. Experience had taught
the Spaniards that the most substantial masonry could not stand against
the ponderous projectiles of the clumsy, ill-aimed lombards. The
principal difficulty to be encountered in the prosecution of military
operations was in the transportation of these heavy pieces. The use of
wheels for cannon was unknown, and they had to be painfully dragged
by long teams of oxen or by the combined efforts of hundreds of men.
In Andalusia the highways were none of the best; in the mountainous
regions, where the cannon were required, it was necessary to clear
away obstacles and to build roads to allow their passage. The time
was favorable for an invasion by the Christians. The truce secured
the neutrality and, if demanded, the active co-operation of Boabdil.
Muley Hassan, old and broken by infirmity, blind and helpless, lay
inert in the Alhambra. Universal depression and apathy, aroused only by
the apprehension of more serious disasters and the dismal foreboding
of impending ruin, hung over the land. The bravest champions of the
monarchy had been slain in the bloody scenes of internecine strife or
in the skirmishes of unsuccessful expeditions. The superior prowess
of the odious infidel began to be reluctantly acknowledged; famine,
in a region of proverbial fertility, grew imminent; and the hostile
partisans, eager to cast upon each other the blame of which all were
equally culpable, indulged in the most bitter recriminations.

The campaign was opened by the siege of Alora, whose walls were soon
demolished by the fire of the Spanish artillery, and many neighboring
places of inferior importance surrendered without a blow. The
capitulation of Setenil followed, and the Christians, emboldened by
success and confident of impunity, carried their ravages to the very
environs of the three great cities which represented the royal dignity
of Muley Hassan, and where had long been concentrated the wealth, the
culture, the commerce, and the valor which had exalted the civilization
and maintained the existence of the few remaining provinces of the
Moorish empire.

The invading army, with banners displayed and ready for action,
advanced to a point one mile from the capital. The beautiful suburbs
of that city, already described in these pages, were now ruthlessly
sacrificed to the stern necessities of war. Not only was every tree
levelled with the ground, but every sign of vegetation was obliterated,
not even a leaf or a blade of grass escaped. An area of more than a
hundred square miles was burned. The threshing-floors were torn up and
great stores of grain consumed by fire. The mosques, the villas, and
the towers scattered through the Vega underwent a similar fate. For a
distance of two leagues in all directions from Granada every evidence
of human occupation was blotted out, and the landscape assumed the
aspect of a charred and blackened wilderness. While the Spanish king
was thus employed in the vicinity of the Moorish capital, the Duke of
Medina-Sidonia and the Count of Cabra had wasted with fire and sword
the districts of Loja and Jimena. In the short space of forty days
greater and more permanent injury was inflicted on the country than
during any corresponding period for eight centuries, diversified as
they had been by the struggles of mighty nations for supremacy, by
the inroads of Mauritanian savages, by the sanguinary ambition of
adventurous usurpers, and by the prolonged and ruthless atrocities of
many successive revolutions. Nor did even temporary relief result from
the withdrawal of the invading force. The governors of the captured
towns were ordered to pursue the enemy with unremitting hostility. In
vain did the despairing Moors offer vast sums of gold, the release
of all captives, the delivery of hostages, if their homes and their
remaining means of subsistence might only be spared. In vain did
the once haughty King, who, from the very palace where he now lay
oppressed with old age and blindness, had returned a message of mortal
defiance when summoned to pay tribute--now a pathetic example of
the uncertainty of human aspirations and the instability of earthly
grandeur--descend to the humiliation of requesting as a favor what he
had formerly indignantly rejected as an insult in terms of hatred and
menace. In vain did the infuriated peasantry, rendered desperate by the
prospect of starvation and beggary and by the failure to propitiate
their relentless foes, attempt a resistance which might formerly have
arrested the tide of destruction, but now only aggravated their misery.
Conscious of their superiority, the Catholic sovereigns refused even
the slightest concession to an adversary whom they considered already
in their power.

Meanwhile, the cause of Boabdil, who maintained at Almeria the shadow
of royalty and the empty ceremonial of a court, was daily losing
ground. His close relations with the national enemy, who constantly
provided him with money and with the supplies which the abhorrence of
his subjects withheld, his absolute want of filial affection, and the
fact that his unnatural revolt had been the immediate cause of all the
evils which afflicted the monarchy, so impaired his influence that his
orders were reluctantly obeyed in the very apartments of his palace. A
correspondence was opened between some disaffected faquis of Almeria
and Abdallah-al-Zagal, who was de facto regent of the kingdom, then
resident at Malaga. That redoubtable warrior, with his African guards,
was secretly introduced into the city at night. A tumult arose; the
governor was killed in the confusion which ensued; and the partisans
of Muley Hassan, almost without resistance, added to his dominions
the rich and populous seaport of Almeria. The seizure of the city was
not the sole object of the intrepid old warrior. Sword in hand, and
followed by his escort, he entered the palace and sought the apartments
of Boabdil. He found them empty; but continuing his search he
encountered the young Abul-Haxig, brother of the King, and the fearless
Ayesha, who overwhelmed him with abuse and reproaches. Infuriated by
the failure to secure his nephew, who, awakened by the noise, had
become alarmed and fled, he wreaked his vengeance upon the youthful
prince, whom he cut down with his scimetar; Ayesha was placed in close
confinement; and every Abencerrage prominent in rank or distinguished
by reputation who fell into his hands was unceremoniously put to death.

Accompanied by a handful of attendants, Boabdil escaped to the
frontier, and sought the protection of the Christian court. The
supplications of the exile were heard with sympathy, but they scarcely
accelerated the preparations for the campaign already determined upon.
With a force of twenty-nine thousand men, Ferdinand laid siege to Coin.
The fortifications had been already shaken by the artillery fire when
Hamet-al-Zegri, Alcalde of Ronda, at the head of a squadron of African
cavalry, cut his way through the lines and entered the city. Encouraged
by this reinforcement, the inhabitants redoubled their efforts. A
strong party led by Pedro Ruiz de Alarcon, which had become entangled
in the narrow streets, was annihilated. But personal valor and heroism
could avail nothing against the huge balls of stone that, fired
from the lombards, crushed into shapeless ruin every obstacle they
encountered. Favorable terms of capitulation were asked for and readily
granted. The citizens deserted their homes and sought the hospitality
of their kinsmen; and the valiant Hamet-al-Zegri, at the head of his
veteran troop of Mauritanian horsemen, grimly and in silence traversed
the enemy’s lines and repaired to the seat of his government in the
castle of Ronda.

To that city the attention of Ferdinand and Isabella was now directed.
The difficulties which must attend its siege were apparently
insuperable. It was everywhere recognized as the strongest fortress
in the Peninsula. Built upon a rocky eminence, one-half of its
circumference was protected by an abyss two hundred feet wide and
three hundred and fifty in depth, whose walls, overhanging or
perpendicular, defied all efforts to ascend them; the other was
enclosed by fortifications of gigantic dimensions and apparently
impenetrable solidity. A great citadel, commanding all, towered far
above the roofs of the surrounding buildings. Without artillery the
place was impregnable, and the transportation of ordnance through a
range of mountains of proverbial ruggedness was a task sufficient to
tax to the utmost the resources of the Spanish engineers. Roads must be
constructed, forests levelled, paths cut through the rock, frightful
ravines bridged, before the lombards could be trained upon the mighty
defences of the city.

The greatest reliance of Ronda was not so much upon the peculiar
advantages of its situation as upon the character of its defenders.
It furnished the best cross-bowmen in the Moslem armies. Even the
boys were expert marksmen, having been familiar with the use of that
formidable arm from early childhood. The inhabitants of the Sierra
were noted for their activity, their courage, and their indomitable
ferocity. The peasantry, who ordinarily adopted the avocation of
shepherds, were hardened by daily exposure and the constant presence of
danger to the endurance of every privation. The famous Hamet-al-Zegri,
who had, with unshaken loyalty and distinguished courage, long upheld
the cause of Muley Hassan, was, as previously stated, the governor of
the city; and a numerous band of Gomeres--those African warriors so
conspicuous in the closing scenes of the Reconquest, and whose prowess
had already been so often exhibited in the present war--composed the
garrison.

Uncertain at first whether it would be more advantageous to attack
Ronda or Malaga, Ferdinand, having again advanced into the mountains,
made a reconnoissance in force near the latter city. The warmth of his
reception and the multitude of armed men who appeared on the ramparts
and took part in the skirmishes convinced him that the siege of Malaga
at that time would be too hazardous, and might fail of success.
Information of the approach of the Christians had attracted for the
distance of leagues thousands of fighting mountaineers. Among them
were many from the vicinity of Ronda, including the governor himself
and most of his command, and a number of citizens who little suspected
that their own homes would soon be in danger. With characteristic
astuteness, Ferdinand concealed the plan of the campaign from all
but a few of his commanders. It was generally supposed in the army
that the destination of the expedition was Loja. An advance guard
of eleven thousand men under the Marquis of Cadiz was despatched by
forced marches to blockade the city of Ronda, and prevent its being
reinforced or supplied with provisions. On the arrival of the main body
the lines were permanently intrenched, ditches were excavated, and the
approaches to the camp of the besiegers fortified by the carts used
for the transportation of supplies. On the eighth of May, batteries
stationed at three different points opened fire on the fortifications.
The one belonging to the division of the Marquis of Cadiz, whose
gunners were directed by Moorish renegades, demolished the bottom of
the cliff, which concealed from observation the secret gallery by means
of which the inhabitants were furnished with water. This passage, which
resembled the one at Alhama, was descended by an angular stairway of a
hundred and thirty steps hewn by Christian slaves in the solid rock.
The approach to the stream, commanded by the missiles of the enemy,
could now only be made at the peril of death. Four days afterwards
a breach was made in the walls, the city was entered by storm, and
the castle, to which the garrison had retired, closely invested. It
required but a few discharges from the lombards to demonstrate the
hopelessness of further resistance. A deputation of the principal
citizens implored with success the clemency of the besiegers, and the
inhabitants were permitted to depart unmolested, bearing with them
their personal effects, to seek a precarious asylum in cities soon to
be shaken, in their turn, by the Christian cannon, and to be exposed to
the fate of places abandoned to the fierce passions of an exasperated
soldiery. The Alcalde of Setenil and the Alguacil of Ronda, with more
than a hundred families, desiring to adopt the condition of Mudejares,
or tributary Moors, and thereby to retain their religion and their
customs under the protection of the Spanish Crown, were permitted to
settle near Seville, where, in after-years, their wealth and the heresy
of their detested belief furnished abundant profit and occupation to
the familiars of the Inquisition.

From the dungeons of Ronda, on the day of the surrender, issued four
hundred Christian captives. Their forlorn appearance, their clothes
in rags, and many of them almost naked, their hair and beards long
and tangled, their emaciated forms tottering with the weakness of
famine and confinement, their limbs laden with ponderous fetters,
excited the profound compassion of all who saw them. In the wretched
procession were many victims of the Ajarquia disaster, and a number of
noble youths who, with a devotion rare even in the days of chivalrous
self-sacrifice, had voluntarily delivered themselves into the hands of
the enemy to insure the freedom and safety of their fathers.

The signal-fires announcing the danger which threatened Ronda
had called together from far and near the warlike peasantry of
the mountains. The beacons on the lofty summits of the Serrania
were answered by others forty miles away. At their appearance the
redoubtable Hamet-al-Zegri returned, followed by the bravest soldiers
of Malaga, but his desperate charges upon the Christian lines were
fruitless, and the duration of the siege was so short that no time
remained for more organized effort, either by assault or stratagem. The
amazing rapidity and apparent ease with which one of the most strongly
fortified cities in Europe was driven to extremity created a profound
impression upon the already disheartened Moslems. From almost every
mountain town and settlement as far as Cartama and Marbella messengers
bearing offers of submission hastened to the Christian camp. In less
than a week, fifty places of more or less importance, and the large
extent of territory controlled by them, were added to the Spanish
monarchy. The terms upon which the Mudejares were received as tributary
subjects were exceedingly favorable, and dictated both by clerical
dissimulation and political expediency. On condition of swearing
allegiance to the sovereigns, through their chief’s and magistrates,
of promising to obey the laws, and of paying the same tribute and
taxes which they had formerly been accustomed to render to their own
monarchs, they were permitted to practise unmolested their religious
rites, to possess their own mosques, to be judged by their kadis, and
to transmit and receive by inheritance every species of property, real
and personal. It did not take many years to disclose the insincere
and perfidious motives by which these apparently humane and generous
concessions were dictated. The pathetic history of the Mudejares,
subsequently known as Moriscoes, is one of the bloodiest chapters in
the annals of the Inquisition.

From the very beginning of the war, the policy of the Catholic
sovereigns had been directed even more to depriving their enemies of
the means of sustaining hostilities than to the winning of battles, the
storming of cities, or the occupation of provinces. Every precaution
had been taken to prevent the emirs of Morocco, connected with the
dynasty of Granada by ties of blood, community of religious belief,
and bonds of friendship and sympathy, from assisting their brethren
in their extremity. The traditions of centuries united the reigning
families of Granada and Fez; and, while their intimacy had been
frequently interrupted by invasion and territorial disputes, the
general tenor of their intercourse had been far from inimical, and the
African sultans had rarely turned a deaf ear to the supplications of
their kinsmen oppressed or insulted by the menacing encroachments of
the Christian power. Thoroughly alive to the importance of depriving
their antagonists of this formidable resource, the Spaniards had early
established a vigilant patrol of armed vessels along the southern
coast of the Mediterranean. This patrol was maintained with such
rigor that, while nominally instituted to prevent the conveyance of
men and supplies to Granada, it practically amounted to a strict
blockade of every Mauritanian port, and practically involved the
confiscation of all vessels trading to that part of the coast of
Africa. Without the possession of a naval power adequate to resist
the Spanish fleet, the Emir of Fez, cut off from the commerce of the
Mediterranean, had suffered seriously in his revenues, as well as
from the deprivation of those articles of foreign luxury essential
to the pleasures of an elegant and voluptuous court. Actuated by the
powerful motives of self-interest, the African prince despatched a
splendid embassy to Cordova deploring the condition to which the
maritime interests of his kingdom had been reduced by the unmerited
harshness of the Christian monarchs, soliciting an alliance, and
requesting, in the most respectful terms, the withdrawal of the fleet.
As a proof of the good-will of his master, the Moorish envoy brought
with him many beautiful and costly gifts. The embassy was received
with every mark of distinction by the Spanish sovereigns; assurances
of friendship and consideration were transmitted with all the pomp
and formality of Castilian etiquette to the Sultan of Fez; but the
alliance was declined; and while the strictness of the blockade was
somewhat relaxed, so far as the intercourse of neutrals was concerned,
the scrutiny of the ports, and the visitation of outgoing vessels
suspected of hostile designs, were continued with all their vexatious
severity.

With the desertion of their African brethren the cause of the Spanish
Moslems became indeed desperate. The only hope of foreign succor lost,
abandoned to their own resources, incessantly torn by faction, their
bravest warriors sacrificed to tribal enmity, with division in the
council, treason in the camp, and incompetency and cowardice in the
field, it is one of the most remarkable facts in the history of their
hopeless struggle that it could have been so long maintained in the
face of an enemy growing stronger with every battle, of great numerical
superiority, furnished with every improved means of aggressive warfare,
and supplied with provisions by a territory ten times larger and vastly
more populous than their own.

With the keen discernment born of natural shrewdness and the
strategical experience acquired in repeated campaigns, some of them
attended with serious disaster, Ferdinand and Isabella resolved
hereafter to use every resource for the reduction of the principal
remaining Moorish cities, well aware that the acquisition of any place
of importance would be immediately followed by the submission of a
large extent of contiguous and dependent territory. The most wealthy
and best fortified stronghold still held by the Moslems was Malaga. To
reduce it would require not only a numerous fleet and a powerful army,
but the subjugation of every town in the vicinity which could either
aid the garrison or obstruct the progress of the besiegers. Of these,
Marbella, from whose walls Gibraltar and Ceuta were plainly visible,
and the situation of whose harbor offered a convenient refuge to any
vessels that might escape the vigilance of the Spanish cruisers, was
the next point towards which the efforts of the Catholic monarchs were
directed. A letter was sent to the city, and a submissive response
received. But the tenor of this epistle, while apparently ingenuous,
to the Spanish mind, familiar with the crafty stratagems of infidel
duplicity, conveyed the impression that it had been framed merely for
the purpose of gaining time. As the importance of the object to be
obtained was paramount, it was determined to move the entire army from
Ronda to Marbella, a distance of only eight leagues, but through a
region never before traversed by so numerous a force, and whose natural
difficulties were unequalled by those of any other portion of the
Peninsula. As soon as the Spaniards arrived, Marbella was evacuated;
Montemayor and twelve other towns of the district tendered their
allegiance; and the King, advancing, pitched his tent within a league
of Malaga.

The hardships endured by the troops upon this march exceeded any to
which they had hitherto been subjected, except those resulting from the
defeat of the Ajarquia. Aside from the tremendous and unintermitting
exertions required for the transportation of artillery and munitions
of war along steep paths and over almost inaccessible mountains, the
defective commissary arrangements produced a famine. For days both
men and horses were compelled to subsist on herbs and palmettoes; and
at Marbella the suffering was still intense, as the ships laden with
supplies, detained by contrary winds, were prevented from reaching the
harbor. The Moors, informed by their scouts of the enfeebled condition
of the soldiers, made a furious attack upon the baggage-train while it
was entangled in a narrow pass between the mountains and the sea. The
muleteers and their escort, separated from their comrades, and, by the
nature of the ground, rendered incapable of successful defence, were
instantly thrown into confusion. The Grand Master of Alcantara, who
commanded the rear-guard, by dint of hard fighting finally extricated
himself from his perilous situation, where, had the Moors exhibited a
little more perseverance, a catastrophe might have ensued that would
have jeopardized the safety of the entire Christian army.

The appearance of the King of Spain with a force of imposing numbers,
and part of the siege-train which had levelled with such ease the
formidable walls of Ronda, struck with consternation the inhabitants
of Malaga, unprepared as they were for the contest which was finally
to determine the fate of their lives and fortunes. But it soon became
evident that their foes were in no condition to sustain the labors
of a siege. The privations of a long and arduous campaign could not
have reduced an army to greater distress than that now afflicting the
soldiers of Ferdinand. They tottered with weakness as they marched,
some even dropped fainting in the ranks. It was with difficulty
that the stragglers could be collected--such was the laxity of
discipline--or the sick and the exhausted be rescued from the scouting
parties of the enemy that constantly hung upon their flanks, and
whose tender mercies were slavery and death. The famishing horses,
unable to bear the weight of their riders, were led by the bridle, and
many of them were abandoned. The pack-saddles and the carts used for
the commissariat were empty. In this forlorn plight the army, after
some days, succeeded in reaching Antequera, where an opportunity was
afforded for thorough recuperation preparatory to the resumption of
hostilities.

No circumstance in the history of the Reconquest more clearly
demonstrates the decline of Moslem intrepidity and spirit than this
unmolested retreat of the Christians. In expectation of a siege, all
the available forces of the kingdom had been concentrated at Malaga.
They were commanded by the famous Al-Zagal, one of the greatest
captains of his time, a veteran versed in every stratagem of war, the
idol of his soldiers, the hero of many a successful expedition. The
country through which the exhausted and disorganized force must pass
was of such a character that in many localities a handful of determined
men might easily withstand a host. The condition of the Spaniards, who
were scarcely able to walk, precluded the possibility of a formidable
resistance. And yet, with every advantage on their side, with the enemy
impeded by an invaluable artillery train which could not be defended
from a bold attack, with the fascinating prospect of a royal capture
to excite the emulation of the daring, with the certainty of valuable
spoil and martial glory to inflame the ambitious, the Moors dared not
seize what was almost within their grasp.

Of the numerous governors who had, in succession, been placed in charge
of the important fortress of Alhama, Don Gutierre de Padilla, an
official of high rank in the military order of Calatrava, now enjoyed
that responsible and perilous distinction. The absence of the cavalry
of Granada, summoned to the defence of Malaga, afforded an opportunity
for booty which the rapacious instincts of that officer were unable
to resist. A foray was made, which swept from the very suburbs of
the capital a large number of cattle and sheep and a few unfortunate
captives. During their return the Christians unexpectedly encountered
Al-Zagal with the flower of the Moslem troops. In the engagement which
followed, the Christians were utterly routed, and the few who escaped
were pursued to the gates of Alhama.

His energy, his reputation for knowledge of war, and his executive
ability, had, a short time before, gained for that old warrior the
precarious and barren honor of the crown. The people of Granada, awed
and irritated by the capture of Ronda, demanded with one voice the
recognition of Al-Zagal as king. His recent successful exploit greatly
increased his popularity. Oppressed with his growing infirmities, Muley
Hassan readily consented to abdicate, and to surrender to his brother
the shadow, as he had long enjoyed the substance, of power. While the
streets were ringing with the shouts of the people, who hailed with
enthusiasm the accession of a new and warlike sovereign, Muley Hassan,
conducted by his slaves to a litter, left for the last time the city
which had been the scene of so many victories and so many calamities
during his long and diversified career. Almuñecar was selected as
his temporary residence, its strong position rendering it easy to be
defended by land, while its proximity to the sea left open, in case
of necessity, a way of escape to the coast of Africa. His abdication,
although recognized as a political necessity by the aged King, was too
much for his proud and sensitive spirit, broken by disease and filial
ingratitude. A few months afterwards he expired, unattended save by his
immediate family, at Mondujar, in the valley of Lecrin.

It was the request of the dying monarch that his body should be
interred, not with those of his ancestors, whose reigns had been
immortalized by the glories of arms, of arts, of letters, in the noble
pantheon of the Alhambra, but, as became his misfortunes and his
sorrows, in some solitude, far from the haunts of men. In accordance
with his wishes, the summit of the Sierra Nevada was chosen as the
place of sepulture, and there, covered with eternal snows, rest the
bones of the fierce warrior whose name was once the terror of the
frontier, while the peak of Muley Hassan forms a far more noble and
enduring monument than the splendid tombs of silver and alabaster,
long since broken and scattered to the winds, which once enclosed the
remains of the members of his royal line.

The accession of Al-Zagal was signalized by a brilliant achievement
which confirmed the wisdom of the popular movement which had raised him
to the throne. Ferdinand had formed the project of besieging Moclin,
whose proximity to Granada made it a point of great advantage, and
which, according to information furnished by treacherous spies, was
negligently guarded. With a view to cutting off reinforcements, the
Count of Cabra, with ten thousand men, was sent forward to surround
the city at night. Al-Zagal, duly apprised of this design, anticipated
the arrival of the Christians, and with a force of twenty thousand
soldiers strengthened the garrison, and placed an ambuscade in a narrow
defile through which the path of the invaders lay. The Spaniards, bent
on plunder and scattered in confusion, were suddenly encompassed by a
host of enemies. Surprised themselves when they had hoped to strike the
enemy unawares, and demoralized by the sudden attack in the darkness,
they were slaughtered almost without resistance, and the Count of
Cabra, severely wounded, experienced great difficulty in avoiding
capture. The pursuit extended for a league; the terrified fugitives
were pierced, as they fled, with the Moslem lances; and Al-Zagal,
with a long train of prisoners and the horses and arms secured in the
skirmish, again entered the Alhambra in triumph. As a result of this
reverse the siege of Moclin was for the time abandoned; and the arms
of Ferdinand were turned against the double fortress of Cambil and
Al-Rabal near Jaen, which region had for years been annoyed by the
Moorish freebooters that infested it, and at every opportunity swooped
down upon the fertile plains around that city, bearing away to their
inaccessible stronghold everything within their reach. The fortress
resisted but a few hours after having been subjected to the fire of the
Spanish cannon; and this success, added to the surprise of Zalea, an
outpost castle near Alhama, by the governor of the latter city, to some
extent compensated for the disaster of Moclin.

The death of Muley Hassan, so far from having a tendency to reconcile
the clashing interests of faction, seemed to threaten the inauguration
of scenes of even greater atrocity than had hitherto disgraced the
civil wars of the kingdom. The restless and malignant Ayesha urged
her son, inert at Cordova, to again assert his claim to the throne.
At her instigation, it was publicly asserted that Muley Hassan had
been poisoned by Al-Zagal, whose following soon became seriously
diminished by the corrupt and seditious efforts of her enterprising
partisans. Another bloody struggle, that would have soon exhausted the
remaining strength of the distracted monarchy and precipitated the
disaster, which, though imminent and inevitable, was still regarded as
remote, was averted by the plausible but impolitic suggestion of an
influential faqui, who proposed a division of territory between the two
contending princes. Nothing but the desperate nature of the contest
and the universal apprehension of impending ruin could have reconciled
the minds of the people to the adoption of such an extraordinary
and suicidal measure. To accept it might prolong for a time the
independence of a nation whose existence was already precarious; its
rejection was certain to speedily entail the most fatal consequences.
No one endowed with the smallest measure of ordinary discernment could
imagine that two claimants to the crown, each accustomed to consider
the other as an usurper and an enemy, could reconcile their adverse
interests or even long maintain a suspicious neutrality by a partition
of dominion dictated by mutual fears and apparent necessity. The
complacency with which the proposition was received by both discloses
to what degradation the descendants of the royal line of the Alhamares
had fallen. With equal facility the conditions relating to the several
divisions of and jurisdiction over the different provinces were
adjusted. To Al-Zagal was allotted the territory from the limits of the
district of Almeria to the bridge of Tablate, including the Alpujarras
and the cities of Malaga, Almeria, Velez, and Almuñecar; all of the
remainder was to belong to his nephew. Granada was to be the common
residence of both sovereigns,--to Boabdil was assigned the Alcazaba,
of old the political focus of his party; the residence of Al-Zagal was
established in the Alhambra.

This unwise arrangement made by Boabdil with an implacable enemy of
his suzerain placed him in an ambiguous and compromising position. He
had received his crown under the implied condition of defending it.
By a previous treaty, concluded with the most solemn ceremonies and
ratified under oath, he had voluntarily declared himself a vassal and
tributary of the Spanish sovereigns. If he failed in his duty as the
protector of his subjects, he was liable to be murdered, and certain
to be deposed. His voluntary surrender of half of the dominions he
claimed by the right of inheritance and now held as a fief to a prince
whom his recent negotiations had devoted to perpetual hostility, made
him subject, under feudal law, to the penalties of treason. To add to
his embarrassment, he had no sooner reached Granada than he received
from Ferdinand a stern communication reproaching him with duplicity,
asserting that his compromise with Al-Zagal was an act of treachery
and a breach of his obligations as vassal; that he had forfeited all
right to the consideration or protection of his lords, who would
hereafter hold him responsible for the public distress which must
result from the renewal of hostilities consequent on the violation of
his allegiance. The rising fame of Ferdinand and his daily increase of
power convinced him that he could now dispense with the royal puppet,
with whose pretensions he had distracted the attention of the Moors
from the preservation of that unity of national feeling and singleness
of purpose which alone could render them formidable. The denunciation
of the Castilian King had followed a submissive epistle of Boabdil
reiterating his protestations of obedience, which the indignation of
Ferdinand led him to declare was violated without excuse. Nothing
remained now for the discredited vassal, the ungrateful son, and the
vacillating monarch, who had obtained a crown at the expense of his
country’s prosperity and freedom, and which, in a few years, he must
have legally acquired in the course of nature, but to attempt, by a
determined resistance, to atone in some measure for the misery he had
inflicted and the lives he had sacrificed.

There are few royal personages in history so impotent and contemptible
as Boabdil, and who at the same time have been endowed with such
a capacity for mischief. With singular propriety was he termed by
his countrymen Al-Zogoibi, The Unfortunate. Born in the purple, he
fought and negotiated for a throne which he eventually lost under
circumstances of the deepest humiliation. Indisputably brave, he
never won a battle. During his entire career the most inauspicious
prognostics foretold, to a people deeply versed in the science of omen
and augury, the disastrous result of every martial enterprise. In Spain
he unconsciously contributed to the enthralment of his subjects by
their most vindictive and uncompromising enemy; in Africa, whither he
was driven by relentless fate, he fell, by the hands of barbarians, in
defence of a stranger prince, who, alone among sovereigns, was willing
to accord to a royal exile the rites of hospitality.

CHAPTER XXII

TERMINATION OF THE RECONQUEST

1486–1492

Summary of the Causes of the Decay of the Moslem Empire--Loja
taken by Storm--Progress of the Feud between Al-Zagal and
Boabdil--The Christians assist the Latter--Anarchy in
Granada--Siege of Velez--Ineffectual Attempt of Al-Zagal to
relieve it--Surrender of the City--Situation of Malaga--Its
Delightful Surroundings--Its Vast Commercial and Manufacturing
Interests--It is invested by Ferdinand--Desperate Resistance
of the Garrison--Its Sufferings--Capitulation of the
City--Enslavement of the Population--Duplicity of the Spanish
Sovereigns--War with Al-Zagal--Siege of Baza--Discontent of the
Christian Soldiery--Energy and Firmness of the Queen--Embassy
from the Sultan--Baza surrenders--Al-Zagal relinquishes
His Crown--War with Boabdil--The Last Campaign--Blockade
of Granada--Distress of Its Inhabitants--Submission of the
Capital--Fate of Boabdil--Isabella the Inspiring Genius of the
Conquest.

The relentless policy of the Spanish sovereigns, which, in addition
to the resources of honorable warfare, adopted without reserve every
crafty expedient to weaken the power of their adversaries, pursued
its end with unflagging perseverance and indomitable energy. The
paramount value of the old Roman maxim, “Divide et impera,” which had
been the corner-stone of the great political fabric that dominated
the ancient world, had long been fully recognized by the Christian
sovereigns of the Peninsula. The animosity of the Moslem factions that
so frequently, in the settlement of their sanguinary disputes, summoned
from the Desert great hordes of Mauritanian barbarians, first afforded
to the struggling Castilian monarchy an example whose teachings it
was not slow to appreciate and to follow. From the earliest times,
its surreptitious aid to or its open alliance with the weaker party
had fomented and encouraged the feuds of the Spanish Arabs. It was
this incessant interference which, countenancing the aspirations of
bold and unprincipled adventurers and in direct contravention of the
principles of national amity, kept every Moslem court in a state of
continued apprehension and turmoil. Even the frequent seditions, the
general disorganization consequent upon the encroachments of powerful
nobles and the protracted minority of infant kings, while they somewhat
diminished by no means abrogated this useful and effective method
of conquering an enemy by the promotion of internecine strife. The
pre-eminent valor of the Castilian chivalry can never be disputed. But,
as important a factor as it was in the military affairs of Europe,
the part it played in the Conquest of Granada was a subordinate
one. The destruction of Moslem power was mainly effected by the
machinations of political intrigue, and to this end the deplorable
state of a society where an absolute want of moral principle was
disclosed by the perpetration of the most atrocious crimes largely
contributed. The popularity of the khalifs and the emirs was always
superficial, and often only nominal. Their superior dignity both
as sovereigns and legatees of the holy office of Mohammed exalted
them far above the most eminent of their subjects. With the masses,
whom they seldom condescended to notice, they could have nothing in
common. Their empire, obtained by conquest, was ruled by despotism and
preserved by force. The incalculable benefits conferred by their wise
and enlightened administration were never appreciated by those who
enjoyed them. The savage ferocity of the Bedouin, transmitted through
countless generations, dominated every other impulse. It exercised
its baleful influence in the gorgeous palace of the sovereign, in
the busy haunts of commerce, in the hut of the stolid and irascible
peasant, even in the temple where were publicly inculcated the
obligations of forgiveness and peace. The prospect of boundless empire,
the advantages of a lucrative trade, the acquisition of enormous
wealth, the prosecution of philosophical studies, the remembrance of
great achievements, the conscious pride of mental superiority, the
omnipresent tokens of a magnificent civilization, could never erase
from the Arab mind the traditions of hereditary prejudice or fuse into
an harmonious whole the discordant elements of the Arab character.

There is nothing more pathetic in human annals than the destruction
of a nation whose works have for ages contributed to the welfare
and happiness of mankind, whose discoveries in every department of
knowledge have called forth the applause of the learned and elicited
the grateful acknowledgment of subsequent generations, and which,
consumed by the unquenchable fire of internal discord, has squandered
in civil war the talents and the resources which, properly applied,
might have for centuries maintained its greatness and perpetuated its
power. The fall of the Moslem empire in Europe is a striking example
of the inexorable law of human destiny. Had the Moslems not succumbed
to the encroachments of Castilian conquest, their eternal dissensions
must have eventually invited the interference of some other aggressor.
Commercial prosperity, which, while encouraging selfishness and luxury,
degrades in the eyes of an effeminate and cowardly population the
profession of arms, had sapped the vitality of the kingdom of Granada.
Its bravest defenders were not natives of the soil, but mercenaries
from Africa. Partisan frenzy which hesitated at no excesses had
usurped the rights and supplanted the sentiments of patriotism. The
most flagrant depravity permeated every class of society. The beauties
of a terrestrial paradise were polluted by scenes which proclaimed the
shocking degradation of mankind; by crimes which cannot be conceived
without dismay; by vices which cannot be mentioned without shame.
Thus infected with corruption, enfeebled by treason, its treasures
dissipated by civil war, its blood lavishly shed in the suicidal strife
of its factions, with one party in open alliance with the enemy of its
race and its creed, no nation could long preserve its integrity or its
existence.

In accordance with the concerted plan of the Spanish court, which
contemplated the prosecution of hostilities interrupted only by the
inclemency of the seasons, it was determined to again attempt the
conquest of Loja. A force of fifty-two thousand men was considered
necessary to carry this enterprise to a successful termination. The
memory of former disaster suggested the expediency of the most ample
and thorough preparation. It was decided to establish, in the form of a
triangle, three different camps in the lines of circumvallation, each
of which, strongly fortified and independent of the others, should be
capable of resisting, if necessary, the entire power of the Moslem
armies. The uneven character of the ground, rendered more difficult of
access by the groves and houses with which it was covered, afforded
such opportunities for ambush and surprise that the reduction of the
city by the ordinary method of investment was considered impracticable.
In addition to this disadvantage, its proximity to Granada and its
consequent pre-eminent value as a bulwark of that city, rendered it
certain that an attempt would be made to relieve it. The military
organization was more complete than had been aimed at in any previous
campaign. Gradually, and with a tact which concealed its object while
perfecting its designs, the reins of discipline were tightened without
giving offence to the naturally proud and insubordinate spirit of the
Spanish soldiery. To convey the artillery and the supplies for the
camp, two thousand carts and seventy thousand beasts of burden were
assembled. The fame of the war and the reported wealth of the Moors
had by this time become familiar to Europe, and numerous adventurers
from other countries hastened to serve under the banners of Castile
and Aragon, in a cause which, promoted by liberal indulgences and
sanctified by the papal benediction, had been invested with the
character of a pious crusade. It was no unusual occurrence for the
chivalry of France to participate in the glory of Spanish campaigns;
in the wars of Don Pedro el Cruel, the English knights had obtained
an enviable reputation for valor and courtesy amidst a people whose
national distinction was the possession of these attributes in an
eminent degree; and now, inspired by the example of his countrymen,
the Earl of Rivers, connected by blood with Elizabeth of York, Queen
Consort of England, came to tender his services to the sovereigns of
Spain. Besides his esquires, three hundred archers and battle-axemen
followed in his train, sturdy yeomen armed with those weapons which,
almost unknown in the wars of the Peninsula, were wielded by the
strangers with matchless dexterity and strength.

The reported advance of the Spanish army on Loja was received by
the feeble and unprincipled Boabdil with feelings of undisguised
consternation. His prudence, which at times bordered upon abject
cowardice, prompted him to abandon the city to its fate. While motives
of policy, dictated by fears inspired by the threats of an offended
suzerain, impelled him to adopt a pusillanimous inaction, the menacing
clamors of the people, refusing to witness unmoved the sacrifice of
a frontier fortress of such importance, admonished him that if he
neglected to heed their remonstrances his crown might be endangered.
Therefore, without further delay, he called together forty-five hundred
well-armed troops, and entered Loja a short time before the arrival
of the Christian vanguard. The approach of the latter was the signal
for a sortie from the city. A bloody skirmish took place in one of
the suburbs near the scene of the former Christian discomfiture,
but the Moors were repulsed with loss; and Boabdil, who had greatly
distinguished himself by his reckless bravery, received two painful
wounds, which for the time disabled him.

As the investment proceeded, the incessant activity of the besieged
made it necessary to adopt the greatest vigilance in protecting the
camps. As soon as they had been thoroughly fortified the suburbs were
stormed, an undertaking of much difficulty, and only accomplished
after the loss of many lives. In these contests the brawny arm of
Hamet-al-Zegri, who had come from Malaga, and, with his ferocious
troopers, appeared in the thickest of the fight, was eminently
conspicuous. The lombards, brought within easy range of the walls, soon
opened a breach, through which the impetuous soldiery made their way.
In the streets barricades impeded their advance; and the Moors, in the
exertion of desperate but unavailing efforts, casting aside all other
weapons, defended the passage with their daggers. For eight hours,
without cessation, the battle went on. The ground, won foot by foot,
was covered with corpses and slippery with blood. In no engagement of
the war was an attack met with more determined obstinacy. The Earl
of Rivers, who sustained with distinguished gallantry the reputation
of the English name, was wounded in the mouth, and escaped death by
a miracle. The path of the storming column was marked by the bodies
of his archers who had fallen in the ranks, and who, on that fiercely
contested field, surpassed in serene and inflexible courage even
the glorious prowess of the famous chivalry of Spain. At length the
garrison and the surviving inhabitants were driven into the citadel.
Its area was so circumscribed that all available space was densely
packed with a mass of struggling, shrieking humanity. The terrible
lombards were drawn forward and trained upon the fortress. At the
first discharge a tower where a large number of men and women had
taken refuge was shattered and fell, burying hundreds in its ruins.
In addition to the havoc made by the artillery, arrows, to which were
attached flaming balls of tow steeped in naphtha, were shot into the
castle, bearing conflagration in their wake, and consuming buildings
into which, for greater security, the sick and wounded had been
carried. The helpless citizens, thus exposed to inevitable death,
now clamored for surrender; but even the desperate condition which
confronted him failed to move the timorous and irresolute Boabdil, who
was justly apprehensive of the wrath of the Spanish King. The situation
soon became so critical, however, that the Moslem prince was compelled
to make overtures for capitulation, which were received with greater
indulgence than he had reason to expect; and, after an humble apology,
he was permitted to retire in safety from the city he had defended
with such heroic but fruitless valor. The people of Loja were granted
the privilege of retaining their personal property on condition of
abandoning their homes, and the roads leading to Granada and Malaga
were soon crowded with weeping exiles, whose lamentations and distress
affected even the iron hearts of the Spanish soldiery, hardened by
repeated scenes of suffering and blood.

Illora and Moclin soon shared the fate of Loja. Their vicinity to
Granada, affording the greatest facilities for reinforcement and
relief, the vital importance of their possession, located, as they
were, almost at the gates of the capital, and practically controlling
its approaches, their stupendous defences, especially those of Moclin,
which almost rivalled in strength the walls and towers of Ronda, did
not prevent Boabdil from basely abandoning these keys of the Vega to
the Christian enemy. In vain were messengers repeatedly despatched to
implore the help of their countrymen. The King, a prey to conflicting
emotions, hesitating between fear of the Spaniards and apprehension
of domestic violence, remained insensible to the appeals of his
beleaguered subjects, who, resisting the besiegers with every resource
within their power, cursed the destiny that had placed them in the
hands of such an unworthy sovereign. During the siege of Moclin, a
tower containing the magazine was blown up by a fire-arrow, and the
surrender was precipitated by this casualty, which not only killed
many soldiers, but deprived the survivors of an indispensable means
of defence. The campaign was concluded by the voluntary submission of
Montefrio and Colomera, and by a foray through the Vega marked by the
pitiless devastation that always accompanied these expeditions.

The series of disasters which continued to afflict the Moslem cause,
and to suggest the imminence of the final catastrophe in which
everything would be lost, began, when too late, to arouse public
feeling against Boabdil, who, blind to the dangers that menaced him,
saw from his palace his nominal allies storming his cities and wasting
his territory with fire and sword. Especially violent was the fury
of Al-Zagal, who, realizing that nothing short of the death of his
nephew could mitigate the evils that harassed the kingdom, adopted
every expedient to accomplish that object. His emissaries sought
opportunities to stab or poison Boabdil, but in vain. Foiled in his
attempts, the fierce old veteran wreaked his vengeance without pity
on all the principal adherents of the adverse faction who fell into
his hands. His machinations in the absence of Boabdil, who remained
at Velez el Blanco under treatment for the wounds he had received at
Loja, so increased the public discontent at Granada that the authority
of the absent King was in danger of being undermined in his own
stronghold, the Albaycin. To counteract these intrigues, Boabdil one
night suddenly appeared before a gate of that riotous quarter of the
city. His arrival was the signal for the renewal of the fratricidal
strife which had already decimated the ranks of the Moorish nobles,
and sacrificed to the rancor of partisan hostility the bravest youths
of the kingdom. National misfortunes, the subject of mutual accusation
and reproach, had intensified the hatred of both factions; the war now
became one of extermination; quarter was neither asked nor expected;
the wounded were killed as they lay, and every prisoner was despatched
without mercy. From the streets, reeking like a shambles with the
horrible butchery, the conflict was transferred to the Vega. Entire
days were consumed in these scenes of horror, until the combatants,
exhausted by their efforts, but not satiated with bloodshed, retired
to their quarters to recuperate their failing strength. In all these
encounters the adherents of Al-Zagal had the advantage, but the crafty
old King, desirous of sparing his soldiers, determined to reduce his
enemy by siege. A strong intrenchment was drawn around the Albaycin,
and the inhabitants, whose allegiance to their sovereign had already
been shaken by the apathy he evinced during the public distress,
in addition to the evils of warfare, were now threatened with the
sufferings of famine. The general disaffection, no longer concealed,
threatened the sacrifice of an obnoxious ruler to the public peace,
when Boabdil anticipated this treasonable intention by an act which has
condemned his name to everlasting disgrace. The aid of the Christians
was invoked to sustain his tottering throne; and Don Fadrique de
Toledo, governor of the frontier, advanced without delay, at the head
of a considerable force, to maintain the pretensions of the nominal
ally, but actual dupe, of the astute and unprincipled Ferdinand. The
instructions given to all the Spanish commanders forbade the weakening
of either faction to such an extent as to endanger the equilibrium
of the balance of power, which, carefully maintained during the
ruthless struggle, must eventually prove fatal to both parties and
result in the complete disintegration of the monarchy. Don Fadrique
therefore amused each prince in turn with the prospect of negotiation
and alliance, alarming both and assisting neither, until their mutual
exasperation was again excited to the verge of frenzy, when he quietly
withdrew. But the enthusiasm of Boabdil’s partisans, largely feigned
and artificial, vanished with the departure of the Spaniards. The
merchants and artificers of the Albaycin were weary of the ruinous
interruption of their trade, and the majority of the inhabitants of
that quarter of the city, long the scene of insurrection and bloodshed,
began to turn towards Al-Zagal in the hope of security and peace. The
tidings of this revulsion of feeling alarmed the scheming diplomats of
the Spanish court, and measures were at once taken to counteract it.
Martin Alarcon, Governor of Moclin, and Gonsalvo de Cordova, Governor
of Illora,--afterwards famous as the Great Captain, and now fast
rising to distinction among the Castilian commanders,--both eminent
for tactical genius and intrepidity, were secretly admitted with a
body of picked men into the Albaycin. The gold with which they were
abundantly provided proved more attractive to the mercenary populace
of Granada than loyalty to king or love of country. Multitudes
hastened to enlist; a few hours were sufficient to collect a force
respectable in numbers, if not in character and discipline; and the
discouraged Boabdil, with the appearance of prosperous fortune secured
at the expense of national honor and personal integrity, was again
able to indulge the hope of gratifying his furious and insatiable
thirst for vengeance and of maintaining the precarious existence of
his ephemeral power. The introduction of armed Christians within the
walls of the Moorish capital was, of itself, to many reflecting Moslems
a most inauspicious omen. But when to this was added the dishonorable
reason for their presence, the fact that the hereditary sovereign of
the Alhamares had implored against his own countrymen the support
of enemies, who, for seven hundred years, had pursued his race with
all the rancor of theological hatred and national hostility, and was
employing the gold donated by the Christian infidel to secure the
doubtful allegiance of men who, degraded by every abject vice, were
equally insensible to the influence of personal merit or patriotic
principle, the portent became still darker and more menacing. The
degradation of the contemptible Boabdil was now complete. Nothing
of which he might hereafter be guilty could add to the overwhelming
measure of his infamy. He had already sacrificed the welfare of his
country to retain a kingdom which he had neither the capacity to govern
nor the resolution to defend. He was now putting his subjects up at
auction, and tempting them to assist in their own enslavement by the
acceptance of money furnished by foes who aspired to become their
masters. Supine in every emergency requiring action, he only displayed
energy in furthering the designs of those who struck at the independent
existence of his people, the permanence of his dynasty, and the
retention of his crown.

It was not characteristic of Al-Zagal to witness unmoved the
treacherous introduction of enemies into the heart of his capital.
Strong detachments were summoned from Baza and Guadix, sharp-shooters
were stationed on the roofs of houses within range of the Alcazaba,
the streets were obstructed by barricades, and all attempts of the
Spaniards to penetrate into the city having been repulsed, the scene
of hostilities was transferred to the suburbs, where, for two months,
with varying success, the two factions indulged to satiety their thirst
for blood, expended in daily encounters the strength which, judiciously
applied, would have repelled the common enemy, and prosecuted, to the
exultant satisfaction of the Christians, the war of extermination,
which insured to the latter the ultimate triumph of their power. It
was in vain that the citizens most eminent for wealth and position,
appalled by the enormities they were daily compelled to witness,
endeavored to stem the tide of slaughter and anarchy. Some of these
were impelled by sincerely patriotic sentiments, others by simulated
indignation assumed to gratify the sordid motives of personal ambition
and private interest. Among the latter were many santons, or ascetics,
who, in addition to the reverence attached to their calling, exercised
among the populace the pernicious influence of the demagogue. In this
class the emissaries of Ferdinand found most ardent and efficient
supporters, who greedily accepted the gold which was to be the price
of their treason. No greater proof of national decadence can exist
than that thus exhibited by the corruption of spiritual guides who
have voluntarily assumed the vow of poverty, and yet are willing to
barter for the bribes of an enemy the peace and honor of their country
and the maintenance of its religious faith. Those partisans of Boabdil
who amidst the general distress had been fortunate enough to preserve
intact a portion of their possessions were induced to remain steadfast
in their allegiance by fallacious promises of exclusive commercial
privileges with the Christian kingdoms of the Peninsula, promises
which were conveniently forgotten when the time arrived for their
fulfilment. To further confirm the timid in their adherence to an
unpopular and unpatriotic cause, the severest penalties were denounced
against all who wavered in their allegiance to Boabdil, or in any way
assisted the opposite faction, which was not only secretly regarded by
the Christians themselves as the exponent of Moorish nationality, but
was recognized by the better class of the population of the kingdom
as representative of the remaining dignity of the Alhamares and the
rallying point of the Moslem power. Having expended their treasure and
secured the continuance of the suicidal strife so necessary to the
successful realization of the designs of their sovereign, the Spaniards
retired from Granada.

The attention of the Moors having been thus distracted from the
operations of Ferdinand by their frenzied efforts at mutual
destruction, the Christian army, assembled at Archidona, took up its
march for the South with a view to the conquest of Velez. This city,
situated on the mountain slope within a quarter of a mile of the sea,
possessed the advantages of commanding the roads to Granada and the
coast, and was considered the key of Malaga. Fortified with great
strength, and inaccessible to heavy artillery on account of the rugged
nature of the country, it had long been celebrated as the head-quarters
of the most audacious and savage troopers who visited with their
desolating presence the fertile plains of Andalusia. In addition to
its walls and its citadel,--one of the strongest in the kingdom,--its
suburbs, which were of great extent, were protected by extensive works
and by ditches impassable by cavalry. A league away, on the very
summit of the mountain, was Bentomiz, a fortress whose proximity might
prove dangerous to a besieging army, and whose approaches were so
difficult as almost to defy attack.

The arrival of the Spaniards was followed by a skirmish, where the
King, exposed to great danger, behaved with his habitual intrepidity,
and by his heroic example saved his followers from defeat. The next
day, six hours of constant fighting were required to dislodge the Moors
from the suburbs, where a sharp hand-to-hand contest was maintained
as far as the walls of the city. Every effort was now exerted to
hasten the advance of the siege-train. The progress of the latter was
exceedingly slow. It was found necessary to construct roads for its
passage through a region hitherto traversed only by steep and dangerous
paths. Only the smaller pieces could be transported at all, and the
lombards, whose effectiveness had been felt in every previous campaign,
were left at Antequera. But three miles a day could be accomplished
owing to these obstacles, to which was added the danger of surprise
from the enemy, who was constantly hovering above on the sierras, and
whose chain of fires at night illumined the horizon for many a league.
The uncertainty of the event, the perils with which he was surrounded,
and the caution born of costly experience, impressed upon Ferdinand
the necessity of maintaining a rigorous discipline. The freebooting
character of the Spanish levies, accustomed for generations to the
uncontrolled exercise of military license, rendered the enforcement of
such a measure an undertaking of extreme difficulty. But the iron will
of the King, supported by the co-operation of his principal commanders,
proved equal to the task. Drunkenness, gambling, and fighting were
severely punished. No one was permitted to engage the enemy without
authority from his superior. Rapine and incendiarism were sternly
repressed. Vicious persons of both sexes were expelled from the lines.
The adoption of these regulations, enforced by the summary execution of
a few offenders, effected a remarkable transformation in the manners of
the soldiery, and quiet and order began to reign in the camp, which,
but a short time before, had been the scene of riot, insubordination,
and boisterous revelry. Such a sudden and complete metamorphosis
was without parallel in the history of European armies. The severe
discipline established by Ferdinand before Velez laid the foundation
of the celebrity for steadiness in battle subsequently attained by the
armies of Spain. The efforts of Gonsalvo de Cordova and his illustrious
comrades and successors in perfecting the system inaugurated by their
sovereign, maintained and improved that high state of efficiency
which carried the arms of Castile and Aragon over two worlds in an
uninterrupted career of victory and conquest.

In the mean time, while the loss of the southern portion of the
kingdom was imminent, the murderous hostility of the contending
parties in Granada continued unabated. Anarchy, in its most dreadful
form, prevailed throughout the entire capital. The streets, the scene
of daily encounters, were strewn with the dead. In every home were
the signs of conflict, in every household the melancholy evidences
of bereavement and distress. All trade was at an end. The city was
a prey to outlaws. Reputation for the ownership of gold and jewels
was equivalent to a sentence of death. The ruffian soldiery, cruel,
sensual, and rapacious, intruded unchallenged into the private
apartments of the most noble families of the kingdom. Even the retired
precincts of the harem, sacred and inviolate in the eyes of every
sincere believer, were not respected. Female virtue was sacrificed to
the licentious passions of those whose first duty was to defend it.
Every dwelling that promised a rich return was plundered. In these
deeds of rapine and bloodshed the partisans of the mean-spirited
Boabdil were disgracefully conspicuous. To such extremes of ignominy
was that prince driven to earn the support and approbation of
perfidious allies, only to eventually merit the contempt and abhorrence
of posterity.

The pugnacious instincts of Al-Zagal were aroused by the new invasion
of his enemies which menaced his supremacy on the coast. But scarcely
able to maintain his ground against his nephew in the Albaycin, he
was in no condition to successfully contend with the numerous and
well-appointed squadrons of Castile. He was justly fearful that his
absence would be immediately followed by the triumph of his adversary
and his permanent exclusion from the capital; in his perplexity he
made overtures for peace. His patriotic suggestion that all Moslems
should unite and expel the enemy from their borders was rejected with
scorn by Boabdil, who insulted with opprobrious epithets the age and
dignity of his uncle, and, recounting in detail the attempts to murder
him, declared that his desire was not for reconciliation but for
vengeance. Apprehensive of misfortune, yet unable longer to withstand
the importunity of his counsellors, who realized the disastrous
consequences which must ensue from the fall of Velez, and confident
that his success would insure the ruin of his rival, whose authority
was more dependent on the pecuniary aid of the Christians than on
the attachment of his adherents, Al-Zagal summoned all the troops at
his disposal, and, leaving the city secretly, prepared to surprise
the Spaniards in their intrenchments. His army, though formidable in
numbers, was far from being equal in efficiency and prowess to those
he had formerly led to victory. His bravest followers, the flower
of the chivalry of Granada, and the fierce horsemen of the Desert,
whose impetuosity and prowess had so often prevailed over the seasoned
veterans of Castile, had fallen in the bloody encounters provoked by
the treason and the enmity of Boabdil or had perished by the hand of
the assassin. His partisans, with the exception of a few detachments
drawn from the district still faithful to his cause, were composed
of raw levies, most of them mere boys, unaccustomed to discipline,
and unfamiliar with military evolutions and the practice of warfare
except as they had been learned in the melancholy school of civil
discord and in the sanguinary riots which daily polluted with the
blood of unarmed citizens the streets of the Moorish capital. Such
were the inadequate means with which Al-Zagal was about to confront
the most thoroughly organized and equipped force which had ever
served under the banners of the Spanish monarchy. Immense bonfires on
the mountain peaks announced to the Christians the approach of the
enemy. A reconnoissance soon revealed his identity. The capture of
a scout to whom the plan of a midnight attack had been imprudently
intrusted enabled Ferdinand to defeat the project of his adversary.
The designs of Al-Zagal, though conceived with his usual sagacity,
were not executed with the vigor and caution which had previously
characterized his operations. Traitors in the pay of the Spaniards
lurked in his camp, and his intended movements were hardly planned
before they were communicated to the enemy. It was the intention of
the Moorish king to destroy the siege-train, which, loaded on fifteen
hundred carts, had at last been brought with infinite toil to a spot
two miles from Velez. Isolated from the main body of the army, with
its guard unsuspicious of danger, a nocturnal surprise would probably
have insured its destruction, and, as an inevitable consequence,
have compelled the retirement of the besiegers. The scout who had
been taken was on his way to Velez to detail the plan and obtain the
co-operation of the garrison at the signal of an immense fire to be
kindled on the highest peak of the sierra. At the appointed hour the
beacon blazed forth against the sky, and the Moslem battalions moved
silently forward. As soon as they were fairly involved in the labyrinth
of lanes and shaded avenues traversing the suburbs, they were assailed
on all sides by overwhelming numbers of the enemy lying in ambush. The
suddenness of the attack precipitated a panic. The darkness prevented
organized defence, retreat was intercepted, and the Moors were exposed
for hours to the deadly fire of foes who fought in comparative security
under the shelter of trees and hedges. The cries of the combatants
filled the air; the repeated flashes of musketry lighted up the field,
revealing the heaps of the dead and dying; the desperate charges of
the Moors failed to pierce the lines of the Christians,--indeed they
were hardly able in the dense obscurity of an unfamiliar locality
to even determine their position; and the contest begun under such
disadvantageous conditions for those who had themselves planned a
surprise terminated in a massacre. The din of battle reached the city,
and the garrison attempted a sortie. The prudence of Ferdinand had
anticipated this movement, however, and the Moors, advancing to the
relief of their countrymen, were driven back into their fortifications.
The first light of dawn fell upon the broken remnant of the Moslem
army, which, to the number of more than twenty thousand, had the
evening before covered the sierra, and whose soldiers, magnified by
the uncertain light of myriads of fires into gigantic spectres, seemed
to threaten with annihilation the Spaniards encamped in the valleys
far below. Those who survived were scattered everywhere through the
mountains, and so complete was their dispersion that the Christians
could not realize at first the extent and importance of their victory,
nor was it until the discovery of countless weapons abandoned in the
hurry of flight and the reports of scouts who had seen the crowds of
fugitives had reassured them, that they ventured to relax the unusual
vigilance assumed through apprehension of a ruse, or were convinced
that a host of well-armed warriors could vanish thus like mist before
the rising sun. This overwhelming rout practically decided the fate of
the kingdom of Granada. It invested with new and extraordinary prestige
the reputation of the Spanish sovereigns. The influence of Boabdil, the
discredited hireling and tool of the Castilian court, had long ceased
to be formidable. The power of Al-Zagal as a disturbing factor in the
hopeless struggle for national existence was forever destroyed. The old
monarch, after his defeat, fled to Almuñecar. While journeying from
there to Granada, he learned that the mob of that city had risen and
declared for his nephew, who was then in possession of the Alhambra,
and that such of his own partisans as had not been able to escape had
been decapitated without ceremony. Accompanied by a slender escort, the
melancholy remnant of that valiant African guard which had participated
in the glory and plunder of so many campaigns, Al-Zagal betook himself
to Guadix, henceforth to be the capital and centre of his restricted
and enfeebled sovereignty.

The result of the battle was, in a double sense, unfavorable to the
people of Velez, cooped up within the walls of the doomed city. They
had seen their hopes of deliverance dashed to pieces in an instant. On
one side could be discerned parties of the enemy collecting the weapons
cast away by their kinsmen in their nocturnal flight. On the other,
saluted by the cheers of thousands, the long train of heavy carts
bearing the artillery against which recent experience had demonstrated
the strongest defences were of no avail came in view, guarded by
a numerous body of cavalry, winding through the mountains for a
distance of many leagues. Not until the ordnance was in sight would
the inhabitants of Velez credit that the successful transportation of
such ponderous masses of iron through the mountains was possible. It
was their first experience of invasion. Their warriors had repeatedly
carried fire and sword into the territory of the enemy. Their streets
had been frequently obstructed with the spoil of the border foray.
Their dungeons were even then crowded with Christian captives. The
fair complexions of the children in the harems indicated the offspring
of many a Sabine wedding. But never, during the long centuries of the
Reconquest, had a hostile force been marshalled before their gates, and
rarely had the hated banner of the infidel been seen from the summits
of their towers. Dispirited by the prospect, absolutely destitute of
hope, aware that a stubborn resistance would only render the terms of
capitulation more severe, unable alone to cope with a veteran army of
seventy thousand men, abundantly provided with every improved appliance
known to the science of the age, subject to the strictest discipline
and fighting under the eye of its sovereign, the people of Velez,
before the batteries had been planted, despatched envoys to negotiate
for surrender. Every consideration consistent with the usages of war
was shown to the Moors by the politic Spaniards, who desired, by this
example of leniency, to provide in the future for the easy prosecution
of other conquests. Secure in the possession of their liberty and their
personal effects, the Moslems of Velez were permitted to seek homes in
Africa or to become the tributary subjects of the crown, on condition
of not bearing arms or holding communication with their countrymen
at war with the Spanish monarchy. The practice of their religious
rites, the use of their language, and the unmolested enjoyment of their
customs were solemnly assumed, an obligation which, like many similar
ones, eventually vanished before the ingenious casuistry of the Holy
Office. Before leaving the camp, the Catholic sovereigns issued an
order granting protection to the subjects of Boabdil, allowing them to
till their lands, to resume their mercantile pursuits, and to purchase
without hindrance in the Spanish kingdoms such commodities as they
might require. Proclamation was also made that all towns and cities
within the jurisdiction of Al-Zagal which should voluntarily surrender
within six months should receive the most ample privileges heretofore
conceded to any place that had tendered its submission, and threatening
all such as might prove recalcitrant with the direct consequences which
the savage customs of the time might either authorize or inflict.

And now the iron hand of Christian power, menacing, resistless,
inexorable, whose advance never slackened, whose grasp never relaxed,
extended itself towards the beautiful city of Malaga. Celebrated from
the highest antiquity for its picturesque surroundings, for its wealth,
for the attractions of its women, for the enterprise of its citizens,
for the unusual advantages conferred by its situation, which made it
the seat of an immense commerce, in the fifteenth century that city
divided with Almeria the lucrative trade of the Western Mediterranean.
The keen sagacity of the Phœnicians had early recognized its maritime
importance. Carthage inherited its dominion, and long maintained there
the agencies and the warehouses of her most opulent merchants. Under
the Romans it enjoyed the highest prosperity, but it was reserved for
the Spanish Arabs to develop to the utmost the mineral and agricultural
wealth of its territory, and to extend the commerce of Malaga to the
most remote and inaccessible countries of the Orient, to every port
whose location or communications promised a profitable return. Its
defences were of the strength demanded by the interests of a great
international emporium. Walls of extraordinary height and thickness
encompassed the entire circuit of the city. Within this line of
circumvallation the different quarters and suburbs, in accordance with
Moorish custom, were themselves strongly fortified. One of these was
inhabited by the Jews, who, always enjoying unusual privileges under
the Moslems, had prospered in the congenial atmosphere of Malaga, which
fostered their trading instincts and aspirations until their colony
had become in number, in wealth, and in distinction second to none
of similar character in Europe. The tolerant and enlightened policy
of the Moors had assigned to the enterprising Genoese another suburb
which was designated by their name. The extensive and varied commercial
relations of that republic were thus intimately connected with those
of the principal seaport of Granada. Through its portals constantly
passed a vast and growing traffic, which bartered the commodities of
every country for the silks, the weapons, the jewelry, the gilded
pottery, and the delicious fruits of Spain. The great factories of
the merchants of the Adriatic, who at that time possessed the larger
share of the carrying trade of the world, lined the crowded quays
of Malaga, and their flag was always the most conspicuous among the
ensigns of the maritime nations whose vessels rode at anchor in the
bay. In their private life the Genoese residents of Malaga exhibited
a sybaritic luxury which might vie in pomp and elegance with that of
royalty itself. Their palaces were of great extent and of surpassing
magnificence. Buried in groves of odoriferous trees, brightened
by beds of gorgeous flowers, cooled by innumerable rivulets and
fountains, they combined all the ingenious devices of the Moorish
landscape-gardener with the taste and symmetry of classic Italy. The
most exquisite creations of the Arab artificer in tiles and stucco, in
gold and silver, in porcelain and in embroidered tapestry, decorated
their apartments. Retinues of swarthy, turbaned slaves obsequiously
waited to do the bidding of their masters. Mysterious eunuchs glided
silently through the splendid halls. Long familiarity with the customs
of their voluptuous and infidel neighbors had erased the memory and
the reverence associated with the country of their birth, so closely
connected with the Holy See, to such an extent that their disregard of
ancient traditions and their laxity of faith might not unjustly merit
the imputation of heresy. In the homes of many were lovely concubines,
some the spoil of marauding expeditions on the Andalusian border,
others purchased by their fastidious masters in the distant markets of
Africa and the East.

The Atarazana, a great dock-yard and arsenal provided with every
facility for the construction and repair of shipping, occupied one side
of the harbor. Its portals of polished marble and jasper were formed by
horseshoe arches of an elegance that rather suggested the tranquillity
of a sacred shrine than the noise and bustle inseparable from an
edifice devoted to the purposes of trade and war. Embracing an area of
more than eighteen thousand square feet, it was one of the most notable
constructions of the kind in the world. While no ships were actually
built within its precincts,--these works being carried on at the
adjacent mole and quays,--it contained, nevertheless, all the material
and equipment necessary for the completion of every kind of craft.
Immense quantities of naval supplies and munitions of war were stored
in its ample magazines. It was approached by many gates on the sides
towards the city and the sea, but the massive wall which protected
its western exterior disclosed no opening which might tempt the attack
of an alert and daring enemy. The government of the Atarazana was
committed to an officer of high rank, whose post was one of great
responsibility, as a large portion of the city was at the mercy of its
garrison. For the benefit of the thousands of workmen employed there a
mosque was provided, from whose minaret, at the hours designated by the
Moslem ritual, the muezzin regularly called the faithful to prayer.

The general aspect of the city was strikingly Oriental,--in the narrow
and tortuous streets, often covered by awnings to exclude the heat or
spanned by arches; in the sombre dwellings whose frowning walls were
occasionally broken by narrow, projecting lattices; in the bazaars,
each allotted to a special branch of commerce, where transactions
involving the expenditure of great sums were concluded in an apartment
scarcely exceeding the dimensions of a modern closet; in the mosques,
with their glittering minarets; in the baths, with their ever-moving,
ever-changing crowds; in the long strings of camels, each one tied
to the croup of his leader, laden with every variety of merchandise;
in the groups of richly apparelled ladies, escorted by female slaves
and scowling eunuchs; in the confusing babel of a thousand tongues,
was faithfully reproduced the picturesque life of Cairo, Bagdad, and
Damascus. Moorish Malaga was the most cosmopolitan of cities. No
restrictions were laid upon her trade, no vexatious or humiliating
conditions attached to a residence within her walls. She numbered among
her inhabitants natives of every clime. In her markets were exposed
for sale the products of the most widely separated countries of the
globe. In her port, after the occupation of Almeria, whose mercantile
supremacy was never restored, was centred the foreign commerce of
Mohammedan Spain. The merchants of Fez and Alexandria, of Bassora and
Teheran, mingled in her thoroughfares and markets with representatives
of every nation of Christian Europe. The intimate relations of
the city with Genoa had more than once called forth the indignant
protests of Castile to the Papal Court and the government of Italy.
The silk manufacture of Granada, the beauty and excellence of whose
stuffs modern skill has never been able to equal, owed its marvellous
development to the maritime facilities afforded by Malaga. The weaving
of this delicate product, furnished in incredible quantities by the
peasantry of the kingdom, was one of the most important branches of
industry pursued in the city. The great buildings where it was carried
on rivalled in extent the famous establishments of Almeria, once the
centre of the silk manufacture in Europe. The superior quality and
harmony of colors that characterized the tissues and brocades that came
from the hands of the Malagan artificers gave them a peculiar value,
and enabled them to readily command extravagant prices in foreign
markets.

Not for the fabrication of silks alone was Malaga famous. Her glass
and paper, her utensils of iron and copper, the complex and elegant
labors of her cabinet-makers and joiners, enjoyed a wide and deserved
celebrity. Here also were made the gilded pottery and the stamped and
enamelled leather, the knowledge of both which processes completely
disappeared with the dominion of the Spanish Arabs.

In the number and profusion of its agricultural products Malaga was
excelled by no city in the temperate zone. Its location, like that
of Granada, afforded every degree of temperature and every variety
of climate. But it possessed in this respect many advantages over
the capital. Lying further to the south its air was milder, and its
breezes were tempered by its proximity to the sea. The greater
volume of moisture in the atmosphere was more favorable to the
labors of the cultivator of the soil, and insured greater fertility.
Frost was unknown, and the sugar-cane and other exotics grew with a
luxuriance almost tropical. The adjacent hills were not then denuded
of vegetation, but covered with groves of olives, mulberries, and
chestnuts. The elaborate system of hydraulics perfected by the Moors
conducted everywhere the sparkling waters of the mountain streams.
There was no fruit or vegetable at that time known to horticulture that
was not grown in the vicinity. Ibn-Beithar, the most distinguished
botanist of the Middle Ages, and who may be said to have been largely
instrumental in the foundation of that science, was a native of the
city. His knowledge of plants, obtained by years of travel and study
in foreign lands, had enriched the flora of his country with many
additions useful for their culinary or medicinal properties. Modern
medicine owes much to Ibn-Beithar, who was also an eminent physician,
for his valuable contributions to the pharmacopœia.

During the Moslem domination the view of Malaga from any point was
most enchanting. From Velez to Fuengirola, a distance of more than
forty miles, the coast exhibited an unbroken series of fig plantations.
Farther back, covering the slopes of the sierra, were groves of
oranges and pomegranates. The vineyards were the most extensive, and
the grapes the most luscious, of Moorish Spain. Their vintage was of
superior excellence, and no small portion of it was consumed by those
whose religion condemned the use of wine as an unpardonable sin. The
belt of frowning gray walls which enclosed the city was relieved
by the palm-trees which at frequent intervals overtopped them. The
mountains in the rear were enveloped in a haze of mingled tints of
crimson, orange, and violet. On the southern horizon, the sapphire
blue of a sky without a cloud blended almost imperceptibly with the
deep ultramarine of the sea. Viewed at a distance, the white buildings
with their red roofs nestling in a wilderness of verdure whose foliage
displayed every tint of green, the harbor dotted with hundreds of
snowy sails, the numerous mosques with their elegant towers encrusted
with glittering tile-work, the palaces of the noble and the wealthy
decorated with all the caprices of Moorish architecture, and each
surrounded by spacious and shaded grounds, the boundless profusion of
limpid and refreshing waters, bearing fertility to every garden and
comfort to every household, the interminable plantations of every fruit
that contributes to the sustenance and enjoyment of man, all presented
a landscape whose counterpart probably did not exist in the most
favored regions of the habitable world. The walls, which enclosed an
area almost circular in form, were strengthened by a hundred and twelve
towers. Far above the city on an isolated promontory stood the fortress
of the Alcazaba, and the Gibralfaro, or citadel. The former was
constructed on the slope of the declivity, and, though of great extent
and massive defences, was still but an outwork of the Gibralfaro. The
position of the latter was such as to bid defiance to any military
engines or ordnance at the command of the captains of the fifteenth
century. The steep and rugged escarpment of the cliff below it made
successful assault impossible. It could not be mined. The angle at
which the artillery of a besieging army must be trained was such as to
render its fire ineffective. No means could therefore be successfully
employed to reduce its garrison except starvation. The water-supply was
obtained from numerous cisterns and from a remarkable well a hundred
and forty feet in depth. Subterranean passages hewn through the living
rock, whose existence was known to but few and which now survive
only in well-authenticated tradition, connected the Alcazaba and the
Gibralfaro with the city. These two castles were enclosed by walls of
unusual height and solidity. No stronghold in Europe during the Middle
Ages was better adapted to resist an enemy than the Gibralfaro,--its
difficulty of access, its intricate approaches, and the prodigious
strength of its fortifications rendering it practically impregnable.

The inhabitants of Malaga, notwithstanding their generally cosmopolitan
character, prided themselves upon the purity of their Arab blood. The
literary history of the time abounds in accounts of their intelligence,
their wit, and their attachment to science and letters. Their charity
and benevolence have been celebrated by every Moslem writer who has had
occasion to examine their characteristics or to describe their virtues.
The desperate and protracted defence they offered the army of Ferdinand
is convincing evidence of their bravery and patriotism. But, on the
other hand, they were impetuous to a fault, irascible, unrelenting,
and treacherous, ever ready to take offence, ever slow to forgive,
jealous to an extreme bordering on insanity, and anxious to settle
the most trivial dispute by an appeal to arms. Every vice familiar to
a prosperous and voluptuous community was practised at Malaga. The
drunkenness of its inhabitants was so common as to be proverbial, and
the fact that its occurrence aroused so little comment is indicative of
the popular indulgence with which a custom abhorrent to the rules of
the Koran was regarded. The integrity of the merchants was not beyond
suspicion; their reputation was better for shrewdness than for honesty;
and the remarkable cheapness of many of the commodities retailed by
peddlers is said to have been due to the fact that they were stolen
from the markets.

The capture of this great city was a matter of vital importance to
the Castilian cause. Not only was it of paramount necessity, but the
difficulties attending the project rendered it by no means certain of
a favorable termination. An enterprise of such magnitude had never
before been attempted by Ferdinand. The great population, its warlike
spirit, the facility with which supplies might be introduced by sea,
the enormous dimensions of the walls, were all important factors to be
considered before the siege was undertaken. On the other hand, there
were many conditions favorable to Christian success. Malaga was now
practically isolated. The exhausting effects of domestic strife, the
apathy and moral cowardice of Boabdil, the recent defeat of his uncle,
the depressing influence of the repeated forays which had swept the
Vega like a tempest, rendered hopeless any expectation of relief from
the territory still under Moorish control. The commercial pursuits
of the citizens for the most part rendered them averse to violence,
and ready to make almost any sacrifice for the sake of peace. It was
certain, however, that a stubborn resistance would be offered. The
commandant of the garrison and governor of the city was the intrepid
Hamet-al-Zegri, whose resolution and prowess were well known to
every soldier in the Spanish army. His troops were largely composed
of Gomeres and other African mercenaries, some of them survivors of
former campaigns, but the majority new recruits from Mauritania who
had succeeded in avoiding the cruisers of the blockading fleet. With
such antagonists it was preposterous to indulge the hope of an easy or
a bloodless victory. The extraordinary strength of the fortifications,
which had hitherto defied attack, imparted to the Moors a plausible but
fallacious confidence in their impregnability.

The Spaniards having broken camp at Velez, which was only eighteen
miles from Malaga, advanced to a point within two leagues of that city,
and the King, desirous of testing the disposition of his adversary,
sent an embassy to Hamet-al-Zegri offering advantageous terms of
capitulation. The Moslem general haughtily replied that the city had
been intrusted to him to defend and not to surrender, and dismissed
the royal messengers with scant courtesy. The vessels in which the
ordnance and camp equipage had been placed for greater facility
of transportation moved in a line parallel with the march of the
troops on shore, and, thus advancing with equal speed, both arrived
simultaneously at their destination. The approach of the enemy was
met with the usual energy of the Moorish commander. The garrison was
called to arms; detachments were sent out to occupy the neighboring
hills; the highway through which the Christians must pass was ambushed
by a force sufficient to impede their progress; and every house beyond
the defences, which, through its proximity to them, might furnish
shelter, was set on fire. On the side of Velez a path so narrow that
the soldiers were compelled to march in single file offered the sole
approach to the city; and, in its most rugged part, commanded by
eminences on either side, the Moors, with every advantage of numbers,
position, and familiarity with the ground, resolutely barred the way.
The Christians, ignorant of the difficulties of the march, had suffered
themselves to be entangled among the rocks and fairly surrounded before
they realized their peril. The contracted passage prevented those in
the rear from aiding their comrades; the elevated position of the
Moors, who, from the summit of the hills, were enabled to fight with
little danger to themselves and had the Christians at their mercy, gave
them such superiority that they threatened for a time to seriously
check the advance of the entire army. In another locality, below
the Gibralfaro, a battle was raging. An attempt to force the Moorish
lines and turn the flank of the detachment engaged below was fiercely
contested. In the words of the ancient chronicler, the Moslems “fought
so desperately that they seemed to have a greater desire to kill the
Christians than to save their own lives.” They neither offered nor
accepted quarter. The fate of such as fell into their hands was instant
death. For six hours, without intermission, the combatants, inflamed
with mutual hatred, discarding their missile weapons and relying on
their swords, contended with equal spirit and obstinacy,--the Moors
with the consciousness that their lives and liberties were at stake;
the Castilians, animated by fanatical zeal, and fighting in the
presence of their King. At length, after heavy losses, both positions
were stormed and taken. The enemy retired, the invading force pursued
its way without further molestation, and a thorough blockade of
the port was at once established. Malaga, surrounded by a strongly
intrenched line of circumvallation, and effectually deprived of all
hope of relief, now prepared to face the privations and calamities of a
protracted siege.

The permanent character of the blockading camps and the perfect
military organization of the Spaniards, marked features of the closing
operations of the Reconquest, became more and more conspicuous with
the advance of the Christian power. A deep ditch protected the
intrenchments, which were fortified by parapets and towers. The
soldiers were sheltered by huts. In the rear of the lines were large
workshops, where skilled mechanics repaired the cannon and the various
engines of war. A gunpowder factory, which gave employment to three
hundred men, was erected, and its dangerous product was stored for
security in adjacent caves. Hundreds of artisans cast the balls
destined for the ponderous lombards. There were twelve of these great
pieces, of fourteen-inch calibre, and more than twelve feet long, from
which were thrown projectiles weighing five hundred pounds. Such was
their clumsy construction that their muzzles could neither be elevated
nor depressed, and they could be discharged only eight times a day. A
ship-load of stone balls was transported from Algeziras, where they
had been fired from the ordnance of Alfonso XI. during the siege of
that city, one hundred and forty-three years before. The Spanish army,
composed of nearly seventy thousand men, was supported by numerous
vessels of every description, many of them armed with guns of medium
calibre. When the batteries were mounted, a terrible bombardment of the
city began by sea and land. The minarets, the domes, the houses, the
towers, crumbled under the incessant cannonade. The city was ablaze in
many places from fire-balls shot from the ballistas. The highways and
pleasure-grounds were strewed with the dying and the dead. Many of the
inhabitants were overwhelmed by the ruins of their fallen dwellings.
The martial splendor of the spectacle excited the admiration of the
chroniclers who witnessed it. They allude with unconcealed pride to the
picturesque beauty of the landscape, soon to be marred by the cruel
hand of war; to the formidable entrenchments guarded by many towers,
to the fleet encircling the capacious harbor, to the innumerable tents
covering the slopes of every hillside and following the winding lines
of circumvallation, to the magnificent silken standards displaying the
familiar arms of Castile and Leon, or emblazoned with the insignia
of the proudest houses of the kingdom. Behind all this pomp was an
unflinching energy, a confidence of ultimate success, which awed and
discouraged the besieged. The calm deliberation, denoting an absolute
tenacity of purpose, which characterized the first steps of the enemy
augured ill for the people of Malaga, now cut off from the world.

But, in many respects, they might well be hopeful of a favorable
result. Their means of resistance were the most formidable which the
Christians had yet encountered. Their citadel had been pronounced
by the most competent military engineers to be impregnable. Their
provisions were abundant, the munitions of war, stored in their
magazines and arsenals, inexhaustible. Their batteries were mounted
with cannon but little inferior in weight and equal in range to those
of the Spaniards; the artillerists who served them were among the most
skilful marksmen of the age. The garrison of the city was numerous
and well equipped; the governor, a veteran grown gray in a score
of wars. Every circumstance contributed to animate the Moors to a
desperate resistance. Should the invader be repelled, it would restore
the lost prestige of the Moorish name. Defeat meant the infliction
of every injury that could be devised by fanaticism and hatred. It
was well known in Malaga that the agents of the Inquisition, while
not yet officially recognized, were present with the army, and were
treated with marked distinction by the Spanish court. The duplicity
of Ferdinand, the blind bigotry of Isabella, although masked by
a plausible appearance of candor and equity, had not escaped the
observation of the keen-witted Moslems. A vague horror, intensified
by past misfortune and by the apprehension of future calamity and
associated with that awful tribunal whose atrocities were soon to
fill the land with mourning, pervaded every Mussulman community. The
possession of these advantages and the anticipation of future evils
were sufficient to stimulate the Malagans to the highest exertion
of courage and endurance. But unfortunately there existed among
them a party largely composed of wealthy merchants to whom every
patriotic consideration was subservient to the enjoyment of momentary
quiet and safety. It was headed by Ali Dordux, a citizen of immense
wealth, distinguished lineage, and unimpeachable integrity. Related
to the royal house of Granada, he enjoyed, from this connection, from
the consideration attaching to his great possessions, and from the
munificence and charity with which he contributed to public enterprises
and relieved private misfortune, the highest confidence and respect of
his countrymen.

Through his mediation, an attempt had already been made to deliver the
city to the Christians, and thereby escape the dreadful consequences
of a siege. The commander of the Alcazaba, Ibn-Comixa, had been a
party to this transaction, which, discountenanced in the beginning
by Hamet-al-Zegri, had afterwards been conducted with secrecy. These
proceedings having been communicated to Hamet by spies, he issued
from the Gibralfaro with his guards, and put to death the brother of
Ibn-Comixa and all others implicated with him in these treasonable
designs wherever they could be apprehended. Henceforth absolute master
of the city, the terror of his name and the fatal example of those
who had rashly endeavored to defy his authority, while they might
not entirely prevent, yet would probably render futile, any future
negotiations looking to a clandestine and unauthorized capitulation.

The investment of the city had not been accomplished without a constant
succession of skirmishes, in which, although the besiegers uniformly
had the advantage, they not infrequently sustained serious loss. The
Moorish artillerists kept up an incessant fire, and their aim was so
accurate that portions of the Christian line were forced back for
a distance of several hundred yards before it could be permanently
established. Especially were their efforts directed against the royal
pavilion, which occupied a conspicuous position, and the plunging balls
of the lombards passing in dangerous proximity made it necessary to
remove the quarters of the King. As the suburbs of Malaga covered an
extensive area, had formerly sheltered a numerous population, and were
protected by defences not inferior to those of the city itself, their
speedy occupation became a matter of great moment to Ferdinand. While
larger, they presented the same general characteristics as similar
localities in the neighborhood of other cities of Moorish Spain. An
uneven line of massive towers, walls, and barbicans crowned with
battlements; a labyrinth of tortuous lanes shaded by hedges of myrtle
and laurel; in one quarter the stately villas of the rich, in another
the crowded hovels of squalid poverty; orchards of fragrant tropical
fruits; pastures where hundreds of cattle might graze in security;
mysterious passages, obscured by overhanging vegetation, through
which a squadron could burst unseen and unexpected upon an unwary
outpost,--such were the features of the environs of Malaga. As much
injury had already been suffered from sallying parties which issued
from the depths of the dark and silent groves, it was determined that
this dangerous ground should be cleared and occupied without delay.
A tower of unusual dimensions defending the salient angle of the
largest of these enclosures, and which was seen to be the key of the
position, was designated as the point of attack. The command of the
Count of Cifuentes was selected for this perilous duty. The Castilians
rushing forward applied their scaling-ladders, but the enemy, fully
prepared, met them with a destructive fire, and, by means of bundles
of burning flax steeped in pitch and naphtha, destroyed the ladders
and many soldiers who had ventured to ascend them. Through successive
arrivals of reinforcements on both sides the engagement began to
assume the character of a battle, whose result for a time promised to
be indecisive; but after a day and a night of desperate fighting the
Christians prevailed, and the Moors, dislodged from the tower, took
up a position within the walls. Their cannon in turn now played upon
the tower, the upper portion of which was soon destroyed, and, having
succeeded in mining the foundations, it was blown up, carrying to death
several hundred Spaniards, whose valor in the face of imminent peril
had so recently effected its capture. This dearly purchased victory
was followed by the occupation of the larger suburb, but not until a
considerable force of infantry had been decoyed by Moorish cunning into
a maze of crooked lanes, where, bewildered by the surroundings and
encompassed by superior numbers, they were mercilessly slaughtered.
In the ground still retained by the Moslems the trees were cut down,
palisades strengthened by ditches were erected, and thus doubly
entrenched the attacks of the subtle and ferocious enemy kept the camp
of the besiegers in a condition of continual excitement and alarm. The
determined resistance with which the slow advance of the Christians
was encountered, causing every foot of territory won to be drenched
with blood, the dread of the pestilence, which had already appeared
in dangerous proximity to the camp, and the rumor, persistently
circulated, that the Queen was urging the abandonment of the siege,
began to produce great discontent throughout the Spanish ranks. Aware
of this feeling and prompt to take advantage of it, the Moors redoubled
their efforts. The guards and patrols were increased. Skirmishes became
more frequent and bloody. Boats armed with light pieces of artillery
were sent out at night to harass the vessels of the blockading fleet.
The garrison was organized into companies, to which was assigned in
turn the performance of regular duties of patrol, attack, relief; and
discipline was enforced among the usually insubordinate Moslems with
an impartiality and a rigor heretofore unknown. All communication
with the enemy was forbidden by proclamation, and the very mention of
surrender, even among the citizens, incurred the penalty of death. The
Moors relied, however, not so much upon their training and resolution
as upon the evils which, at all times and especially in that age, were
liable to hamper the tedious and laborious operations of a besieging
army. The rainy season was approaching, when the mountain streams,
swollen to the dimensions of torrents, swept away everything in their
course, and the sudden tempests rendered the harbor, always insecure,
almost untenable for shipping. The exposure of the camp was certain
to induce disease and might invite a visitation of the plague, while
the physical disadvantages incident to the situation would probably
be magnified by the fears and the discontent of a large body of men
subjected to daily inconvenience and condemned to inglorious inaction.
A reign of terror had been inaugurated in Malaga by the savage measures
adopted by Hamet-al-Zegri, who had executed without examination or
warning several prominent citizens whose former conduct had rendered
their loyalty suspicious, and, as a result of this severity, to all
outward appearances, the inhabitants were at last heartily united
in the public defence. An atmosphere of distrust and apprehension,
however, enveloped the community; no man dared to publicly address his
friend; the denunciation of a prominent personage to the authorities
was followed by his immediate execution; and the merchants, whose
wealth, influence, and pacific inclinations made them obnoxious to the
ferocious soldiery, exposed on the one side to the violence of the
garrison, menaced on the other by the prospect of enslavement and of
financial and domestic ruin, were driven by their forebodings into the
apathy of despair. In order to counteract the feeling of confidence
with which the false rumor of the Queen’s disapproval of the siege
inspired the enemy, a request was now made urging her to repair to the
camp.

The arrival of Isabella was marked by all the pomp of a royal
reception, and her presence at the post of danger brought to the
front many cavaliers not liable to military service, but actuated
by the chivalrous spirit so prominent in the Castilian, and who, in
this instance, combined the hope of military distinction with that
ardent devotion to the sex always regarded as one of the noblest and
most meritorious attributes of knighthood. The occasion seemed an
advantageous one for the renewal of negotiations, and fresh overtures
were made to the citizens of Malaga, but no reply was vouchsafed to
the messengers, and they returned without having obtained an audience
with the authorities. Foiled in this attempt and encouraged by the
counsels of the Queen, Ferdinand pushed the approaches with increased
energy. The entrenchments were moved into the suburbs, and often within
a stone’s throw of the walls. An attack was made upon the castle,
which resulted in the repulse and wounding of the Marquis of Cadiz.
Vessels were sent to Barcelona, Valencia, Lisbon, and Palermo for
powder. Hundreds of mechanics were employed in the construction of
military engines,--ladders like masts, raised on sliding platforms,
mangonels, battering-rams, movable towers, and mantelets. The wood
required for this purpose was obtained from the orchards and groves of
the vicinity. Mines were secretly opened at four different points, and
in each of these hundreds of men labored constantly day and night. The
appearance of the Queen, who was accompanied by the dignitaries and
ladies of the court, infused fresh courage into the faltering ranks
of the disheartened soldiery. The intrepid defence of the Moors had
exceeded the anticipation of the Spaniards, who, encouraged by the
remembrance of former triumphs, expected a rapid if sharply contested
conquest. Instead of this, after three weeks, each day of which was
marked by a series of sanguinary combats, no substantial progress
had been made. The trifling advantages gained had been purchased at
the expense of many lives; the success of the day was certain to be
counteracted by the repulse of the morrow; when a wall was demolished,
a new line was formed, composed of ditches and palisades, and defended
by troops whose tireless efforts and apparently exhaustless resources
seemed to bid defiance to every artifice of military experience and
engineering skill. The discouraging prospect of the campaign, and the
gradual spread of the pestilence in the neighborhood, caused numerous
desertions and much consequent demoralization. Some soldiers returned
to their homes; others, renouncing the further prosecution of an
enterprise which they considered impracticable, sought the insidious
friendship and uncertain rewards of the Moslems of Malaga. To insure
their welcome, they sedulously magnified the distress of the comrades
whom they had thus dishonorably abandoned,--alleging the shortness of
rations, the want of powder, the number of deserters, the universal
discontent which they declared even the exhortations and promises of
the King had failed to appease. The effect of these representations
soon became evident. The Moslems, encouraged to continue steadfast,
maintained the contest with renewed obstinacy, and the attention of the
Christians was occupied in guarding their lines, liable at any moment
of the day or night to be broken by an assault from some remote and
unexpected quarter. A cloud of smoke hung over the city and the camp,
lighted at frequent intervals by the flashes of the cannon whose dull
roar was occasionally followed by the crash of falling buildings,
the cheers of the artillerists, and the cries of the wounded. The
inflexible resolution and inspiring example of Hamet-al-Zegri, whose
heroism was so tarnished by remorseless cruelty, sustained the defence
of Malaga amidst the most frightful privation and suffering. The
difficulty of supporting a great multitude of non-combatants under
such circumstances increased day by day. All the provisions that
could be found were unceremoniously seized for the benefit of the
garrison. Whenever it was ascertained that some unfortunate citizen had
secreted food for the maintenance of his family, all of the inmates
of the house were at once put to the sword. The Jews, the especial
objects of official tyranny, were inhumanly and maliciously deprived
of the necessities of life, and the poorest and most helpless of this
persecuted race perished by hundreds of starvation. In the extremity
of famine the most loathsome and innutritious substances were eagerly
devoured. Not an animal of any kind was left alive in the city; and
many persons reared in abundance and luxury were forced to blunt the
pangs of hunger with the leather of saddles, the stalks of cabbage, and
the leaves of trees long since stripped of their fruit and blossoms.
Rendered desperate by distress and by the enforced military duty
for which they had been impressed by the governor, who took a grim
satisfaction in assigning to the most perilous stations those who had
least experience in the operations of war, a number of merchants,
including Ali Dordux, again opened communications with the enemy.
Their designs miscarried, for their messenger while returning from the
Spanish camp was intercepted by a patrol, and, in trying to escape,
fell pierced with a cross-bow bolt.

The extremity of their countrymen who so resolutely held their ground
against the united resources of Castile and Aragon excited the
compassion and applause of every patriotic Moslem in the kingdom.
There were many in the capital who would have gladly volunteered to
go to their assistance, but the known hostility of Boabdil repressed
the public exhibition of the general feeling. With the sanction of
Al-Zagal a band of picked warriors set out from Guadix to endeavor
to cut their way into Malaga. Information of the expedition was
communicated to Boabdil by spies, and an ambush was planned for the
party by a squadron of Moorish cavalry from Granada. The unfortunate
adventurers, unsuspicious of treachery, were surprised on the march,
and less than half of them succeeded in escaping to Guadix. For
this infamous service, so thoroughly in keeping with his character,
Boabdil received the congratulations of the politic Ferdinand, who
viewed with inward complacency the effects of the fatal policy of his
enemies who were unconsciously fighting his battles, and were destined
eventually to realize the futility of their efforts to maintain even
a tributary existence in the face of adversaries prepared to renounce
every consideration of honor and justice, to violate every covenant,
to repudiate every suggestion of humanity and pity, in the final
accomplishment of an object, pursued with unshaken tenacity, through
the vicissitudes, the triumphs, and the reverses of twenty-five
generations.

Despite the fact that famine threatened the garrison and was already
decimating the non-combatants, the Moors never relaxed their efforts.
Great trenches were excavated outside the walls at points where the
cannon had effected breaches. The mines opened by the besiegers had in
many instances reached the fortifications, when they were detected,
countermined, and rendered worthless. One of them was blown up and
destroyed after a bloody subterranean combat. This success was not
obtained without the greatest difficulty, and only after six days
of incessant fighting. Little by little every prospect of relief
was removed from the minds of the despairing garrison. The Emir of
Tlemcen, whose coast was constantly patrolled by armed galleys, and who
recognized the hopelessness of the struggle, sent an embassy to the
Catholic sovereigns, soliciting their friendship and imploring that the
commercial restrictions imposed upon his subjects by the maintenance
of the blockade might be removed. Magnificent presents of horses,
trappings, and garments, silks, gold, and perfumes accompanied his
request. The offer was graciously accepted; the naval commanders were
instructed to treat their new allies with due consideration; but at
the same time a vigilant watch was kept up to prevent any supplies of
men or provisions from being clandestinely introduced into the devoted
city. The sympathy of the Moslems throughout the kingdom, awakened by
the heroism of the Malagans, increasing with the duration of the siege,
found expression not only in lamentations, but in the execration of
Boabdil, whose agency was recognized as principally responsible for the
sufferings of his valiant countrymen.

In the mountains of Guadix there lived a certain Ibrahim-al-Guerbi,
a santon, or hermit of African origin, whose uncouth appearance,
emaciated form, and reputed sanctity had obtained for him the
superstitious veneration with which the ignorant are accustomed to
invest those whose lives are passed in localities apart from the abodes
of men, and whose extravagant claims to superior holiness are supposed
to be confirmed by habitual austerity and the frenzy born of incessant
meditation and long-continued abstinence. His progress through the
streets of Guadix was always attended by an immense multitude of
admirers, who, regarding him as inspired and in frequent communication
with the Prophet, listened to his ravings with a reverence equal to
that with which they would have received a command of God. Calling
the people together, this fanatic proclaimed in the market-place
of the city that Allah, moved by the wretchedness of his faithful
worshippers, had decreed that Malaga should be delivered from her
extremity, and that he himself had been appointed as the instrument
to carry the divine will into execution. The credulous populace heard
this announcement with boundless enthusiasm; at the call for volunteers
a great number of soldiers and citizens responded; and from these the
santon selected a band of four hundred, most of them Africans, and
all ready to sacrifice their lives in any desperate undertaking which
might bring them glory on earth or secure their entrance into Paradise.
Leaving the city secretly, the party, avoiding the frequented roads,
hastened through the mountain wilds to Malaga. In the early morning
they made a sudden charge on the Spanish lines near the sea; two
hundred succeeded in cutting their way into the city, and the others
remained dead or captive in front of the intrenchments. During the
attack the santon withdrew to a retired spot near at hand, where, on
his knees and with uplifted face and hands, he assumed an attitude of
devotion. Discovered by the patrol, he maintained a dogged silence
until taken before the Marquis of Cadiz, to whom he announced his
calling and declared his ability to foretell coming events through
revelations from the Almighty. The Marquis, who like all of his
countrymen was not a little superstitious and disposed to give credit
to the pretension of a religious charlatan even if he came in the guise
of an enemy, asked if he knew when and how the city would be taken.
The santon answered in the affirmative, but declared that he would
only impart this information to the King and Queen, unattended and in
secret. Thereupon the Marquis inquired the pleasure of the sovereigns,
who ordered the Moor to be brought before them; and, in the same
condition in which he was captured, clothed with a ragged cloak, and
armed with a short but heavy scimetar, he was at once conducted to the
royal pavilion. Fortunately Ferdinand was asleep and Isabella employed
in some feminine occupation when the guard arrived with the santon, who
was taken into an adjoining tent, where Don Alvaro of Portugal, of the
royal House of Braganza, and Doña Beatrice de Bobadilla, Marchioness
of Moya, the intimate friend of the Queen, were engaged in a game of
chess. The Moor, to whom the persons of the Catholic sovereigns were
unknown, supposing, as a matter of course, that the couple before him,
whose splendid apparel denoted personages of the highest distinction,
were the objects of his nefarious design, drew his scimetar and
inflicted a dangerous wound on Don Alvaro. He then aimed several
blows at the Marchioness, who had fallen to the ground in terror,
but his weapon striking the canvas of the tent each time he raised
it disconcerted his aim, and his intended victim escaped injury. The
savage fanatic was instantly killed by the soldiers, and his mutilated
remains cast over the walls from a catapult. Collected reverently by
the Moslems, they were sewed together, dressed in silken robes, and,
after being sprinkled with the costliest perfumes, were buried with all
the honors due to a martyr who had sacrificed his life in a bold if a
reprehensible and fruitless attempt to render a service to his country.
In reprisal, a Galician captive of rank was killed and tied upon an
ass, which was driven into the Christian lines, an act as impolitic as
cruel, for it only served to further exasperate the besiegers, already
rendered sufficiently implacable by their losses, their hardships,
and the unexpected severity of the labors imposed upon them by the
desperate resistance of the enemy.

While famine and suffering daily increased within the walls of Malaga,
the condition of the Spaniards, for a time discouraging, was now
steadily improving. Many nobles from Valencia and Catalonia, desirous
of serving under their monarchs and provided with substantial aid in
men and money, repaired to the camp. The Duke of Medina-Sidonia, with
his son and a great following of retainers, brought the influence of
his name and presence and, what was even more acceptable, the tender of
twenty thousand doubloons of gold. By these means the army, originally
consisting of seventy thousand men, was considerably augmented. The
magazines were replenished. Vast heaps of grain were tantalizingly
exposed to the view of the starving Moslems. New recruits were
enlisted. Great stores of ammunition were collected, and the increased
enthusiasm and renewed fury of the assaults apprised the besieged that
only some crushing reverse could overcome the inflexible determination
of their foes.

Scarcely a day now passed that a number of the citizens of Malaga did
not enter the Christian camp, forfeiting their liberty to escape death
by starvation. Reduced to skeletons and staggering with weakness, they
devoured with the ravenous appetite of famine the food that was given
them, exciting by their deplorable condition the compassion even of
their unfeeling conquerors. The accounts they gave of the straits to
which their brethren were reduced convinced the Spaniards that the
struggle could not much longer be maintained. The streets were covered
with decomposing corpses. Those wounded in battle and the perishing
victims of hunger lay side by side, both helpless and uncared for.
The terrible Gomeres, restricted to quarter-rations, and rendered
still more savage by suffering and by daily familiarity with carnage,
stalked unquestioned through every house, enforcing their demands for
food with threats whose bloody significance the slightest inattention
was quick to realize. Most pitiable was the state of the women and
children, many of them left unprotected by the fortune of war, without
the means of sustaining life, exposed to hourly danger, oppressed by
the sad remembrance of their losses, with no prospect save death or the
even more unhappy one of perpetual servitude. The Castilians listened
to these statements with incredulity, for it seemed impossible that
under such trials the spirit of the Moslems could remain unbroken
and undismayed. The assaults on the trenches continued. The ships
of the fleet were attacked and some of them destroyed. The hopes of
the besieged were sustained by the assurances of ultimate victory
proclaimed by another fanatic, who, in spite of the failure of his
predecessor, found it easy to obtain among his credulous countrymen
implicit belief in his extravagant promises. Under his advice, six
strong battalions attacked simultaneously the Spanish intrenchments
held by the commands of the Grand Masters of Alcantara and Santiago.
The Christians, although habitually on their guard, were surprised
and driven back; but the success of the Moslems was but temporary; a
determined effort sufficed to repulse them, and after losing many men
they retired in disorder.

This engagement was the crisis of the siege. The garrison was no longer
able to man the fortifications, fast crumbling under the enemy’s guns.
Of five thousand picked men that originally composed it, three-fifths
had been killed and wounded, and the remainder were greatly weakened
by disease and privation. The lamentations of the starving, and the
remonstrances of those citizens whose personal interests had always
inclined them to peace, now became too importunate to longer remain
unheeded. The indomitable Hamet-al-Zegri and his guards sullenly betook
themselves to the Gibralfaro. Five prominent merchants, empowered by
the people to sue for peace, were sent to the head-quarters of the
King. Their proposal to yield on substantially the same terms which
had been granted other conquered cities was rejected with haughty
disdain, and they were informed that nothing short of an agreement
involving the unconditional surrender of their persons and property
would be entertained. In despair the envoys returned; the citizens
consented to abandon everything provided their liberty was assured;
and, if this should still be denied, they threatened to hang from
the battlements every Christian captive in their power, and, having
placed the women and children in the Alcazaba, to set fire to the
city, and then, sallying forth, sell their lives dearly in battle
with their unrelenting foes. To this menace Ferdinand replied that
if a single captive was killed he would put every Moor in Malaga to
death, and that no other terms would be given except those already
communicated to their messengers. The desperate circumstances of the
besieged allowed them no alternative but absolute submission to the
will of the conqueror, and after much altercation they signified their
consent to surrender without conditions. Hostages were given to secure
their fidelity; the victorious army marched into the city; all of the
inhabitants were compelled to assemble in the Alcazaba, there to await
the pleasure of the King; the brave Hamet-al-Zegri was placed in irons
and sold in the slave-market of Carmona; the Christian deserters,
whose information had been instrumental in confirming the obstinacy of
the Moors, were put to death by torture; the streets were cleansed of
impurities; and in the great mosque, consecrated to Christianity amidst
the imposing forms of the Catholic ritual, mass was said in gratitude
for the prosperous event of an enterprise which, in difficulty, in
duration, and in the intrepidity and fertility of resource exhibited by
the enemy, was without parallel in the history of the Reconquest. Five
hundred captives, whose survival proved that they had been better cared
for than many of their masters, came in solemn procession to return
thanks for their deliverance. Not a few of them, who had long abandoned
all hope of liberty, had been enslaved for twenty years. Many villages
near Malaga were occupied by the Spanish troops, and their inhabitants
were confined with their countrymen for future disposition in the
spacious enclosure of the citadel.

In deciding the fate of the people of Malaga, the remarkable
constancy and heroism which they had displayed in defence of their
homes--qualities that must have awakened the admiration and respect of
every mind susceptible to the sentiments of generosity and pity--were
not taken into consideration by Ferdinand and Isabella, except to
the prejudice of the victims. In accordance with mediæval custom
the vanquished were absolutely at the mercy of the conquerors. By a
refinement of political casuistry they were also branded as rebels.
The grounds for this accusation are now difficult to determine. The
Moslems of Malaga were, and always had been, the subjects of Al-Zagal,
the uncompromising enemy of the Christians, and, by the most ingenious
and far-fetched application of Castilian law or feudal practice, could
never have been included among the dependents or tributaries of the
Spanish Crown. It is probable that the claim may have been founded
on the suzerainty exercised by former kings, and acknowledged by the
princes of Granada as a political necessity, but never conceded as an
inalienable right. Exasperation caused by prolonged resistance, and
the conviction that a severe example might deter other cities from
opposing the march of Spanish sovereignty, induced certain persons
attached to the court and army, concerning whose names history is
silent, to urge with vehemence an indiscriminate massacre of the
prisoners,--a proposal which, fortunately for the reputation of the
victors, through considerations of public expediency, if not from
sentiments of humanity, they were induced to reject. The royal decree,
published by sound of trumpet, condemned every Moor to slavery for
life. The severity of this sentence was, however, modified by a
provision which, while it apparently held out a prospect of relief,
yet, so far from abating its rigor, was in fact designed to intensify
it by the infliction of bitter disappointment. Malaga was one of the
most opulent cities of the Mediterranean. Her merchants had amassed
great fortunes by commerce, and their personal property, so valuable
and so likely to be concealed in the face of endless servitude, was a
prize not to be lightly relinquished by Spanish rapacity. The priceless
jewels worn by the Moorish women in rich and barbaric profusion were
famous throughout Granada, and reports of their value and beauty had
spread to the Castilian court. Rumors were already in circulation that
the most of these treasures had disappeared. The crafty dissimulation
of the Christian sovereigns readily devised an expedient to recover
this wealth. By royal proclamation it was announced that the entire
number of Moors could be delivered from slavery on the payment within
eight months of a sum amounting to thirty doubloons of gold for each
man, woman, and child. This, however, was only applicable collectively.
No individual could offer a separate ransom; and no death within
the allotted time was to be taken into consideration,--all were to
be redeemed alike and together, whether living or dead. It was an
indispensable condition of this extraordinary grant of indulgence that
the entire personal property of the people of Malaga should be at once
transferred to the officers of the treasury, to be credited on account.
The Moors, without calculating the enormous sum required to ransom
such a multitude or reflecting upon the numerous pretexts by which an
agreement made with a perfidious conqueror might be repudiated, eagerly
grasped at the tempting but fallacious prospect of freedom.

As the entire number of the citizens and garrison was not far from
eleven thousand, it required three hundred and thirty thousand
doubloons, equal to twenty-one million one hundred and twenty thousand
dollars at the present estimate of values, to effect their deliverance.
Every encouragement was at once extended the captives to unearth their
hidden treasures. Conducted to their houses, they brought forth from
the depths of wells and cisterns, from excavations in the gardens,
from concealed vaults and secret receptacles, from fountains and
walled-up niches, gold and silver ornaments, jewels, coin, and plate,
and every conceivable species of portable riches. A list of all the
owners was made, together with an inventory and appraisement of their
property, which we may rest assured was not valued at an extravagant
figure. History does not inform us of the amount secured or of the
deficit. As the ransom of a captive is one of the most meritorious
acts of a Moslem, and one explicitly enjoined by his religion, the
Malagans expected that their fellow-sectaries would readily contribute
the remaining sum required for their liberty. In this they were sadly
disappointed; the subjects of Boabdil refused to compromise themselves
by assisting the enemies of Ferdinand, and by order of their king the
letters and petitions were intercepted and sent to the Spanish court.
The partisans of Al-Zagal, impoverished through contributions demanded
by the exigencies of war and disheartened by defeat, were unable to
respond to the pressing importunities of their brethren, harassed by
the memory of recent distress and menaced by the most deplorable of
human calamities. The charity of the Moslems hence fell far short of
the demands which the necessities of their countrymen exacted. Although
even the inhabitants of Morocco and Tlemcen--whom recently established
relations with the Spanish Crown may have unfavorably influenced--were
appealed to, it was found impossible to collect the required amount.

The Moorish prisoners were divided into three classes,--one destined to
be exchanged for Christians detained in captivity in Africa; the second
to be distributed as spoil among the most eminent personages in the
army according to rank or merit; and the third to be sold at auction
for the benefit of the treasury, to partially defray the expenses of
the siege. As an acknowledgment of the aid his endorsement had afforded
a war waged in the name of religion, and to get rid of captives whose
reputation and character indicated they might prove troublesome, a
hundred of the most ferocious Gomeres were presented to the Pope. Fifty
of the most comely Moslem damsels were given to the Queen of Naples.
Thirty others became the slaves of the Queen of Portugal. Isabella also
distributed a large number of these attractive maidens among the ladies
of the court, and several of them were retained for her own service in
the palace.

Those prominent citizens who had vainly attempted at different times to
procure the surrender of Malaga were suffered to retain their property
and enjoy their freedom in the condition of tributaries. Ali-Dordux
as a recompense for his peculiar services received twenty houses,
with many valuable lands and villas, and was appointed alcalde of the
Mudejares. The surviving Jews of the city, amounting in all to four
hundred and fifty persons, the majority of them women, were ransomed by
Abraham Señor, a rich Hebrew, collector for the royal treasury of the
Jewish tribute of Castile. Their chattels were received and accounted
for in part payment of their ransom, which was twenty thousand
doubloons of gold.

Thus ends the mournful story of the capture of Malaga. No similar
event in history exhibits in a more striking manner the heroism of the
conquered and the perfidy and malevolence of the conquerors. Human
valor and self-sacrifice under the most discouraging circumstances
could not accomplish more than was effected by the Moslems. No
greater disregard for those virtues which appeal most strongly to
the human heart--loyalty, patriotism, intrepidity, firmness--or for
those sufferings which arouse the chivalrous sympathy of the brave
could be shown than was displayed by the triumphant Christians. The
honorable terms ever accorded by a magnanimous victor to a courageous
but unfortunate foe were insolently refused. The enslavement of an
entire community, while not repugnant to the barbarous customs of
mediæval warfare, was unusual, and was certainly unmerited by those
whose only crime was a resolute defence of home and country. The
infamy of the scheme through which they were deluded by false hopes of
deliverance from servitude, and, at the same time, despoiled of their
possessions, is deserving of the severest reprobation. It was well
known to Ferdinand, who fixed the amount and whose influence was no
doubt employed in counteracting the efforts of the emissaries of the
captives, that the exorbitant ransom could never be paid. Even if the
obligation had been discharged, there is little doubt, in view of the
subsequent course pursued by the Spanish Crown in similar transactions,
that the result would have been the same. The spirit which did not
reject with indignation, but could calmly discuss, the deliberate
massacre of eleven thousand defenceless persons as a matter of public
convenience, would hardly refuse to repudiate a contract when its
violation was sanctioned by the plausible and popular suggestions of
sacerdotal casuistry. The part taken by the Queen in this disreputable
transaction, more characteristic of the arts of a pettifogger than
of the justice of a high-minded sovereign, is incapable of excuse
or palliation even by the artifices of the most fulsome apologist.
Her responsibility was equal to that of her husband. She was fully
cognizant of the entire negotiation. A single word from her would have
arrested it, but that word was not spoken. Unfortunately for her fame,
on this as on many other occasions, she seems to have sacrificed the
noblest attributes of her sex to considerations of momentary advantage
and spurious morality at the dictation of malignant and intriguing
ecclesiastics, whose power as keepers of the royal conscience and
whose insidious counsels had already begun to exert a marked and most
pernicious influence on the policy of the crown.

In the midst of their reverses the infuriated temper of the Moors of
the capital and the consequent insecurity of the throne of Boabdil
had become daily more apparent. His frantic appeals for assistance
were answered by the despatch of Gonsalvo de Cordova with three
thousand men, whose presence awed the malcontents and confirmed for a
time the falling power of a monarch whose selfish and short-sighted
measures continued to afford the most substantial aid to the enemies
of his country. As a recompense for his invaluable services, the
subjects of Boabdil passed their lives in comparative peace; their
labors were uninterrupted; their harvests ripened and were gathered
in security; and their merchants, transporting their wares beyond the
frontier, carried on a profitable trade with the cities of Andalusia
and Castile. The boundaries of the royal vassal’s domain, constantly
growing more narrow through the vicissitudes of revolution, the
encroachments of perfidious allies, and the ravages of war, could now
be discerned from the battlements of the Alhambra. His name, loaded
with the most insulting epithets, was openly cursed in the streets.
By a cruel stratagem, worthy of his Christian patron, he suppressed a
spirit of rebellion which daily threatened a serious outbreak. Five
of the most influential agitators were invited to a conference in the
palace. Relying upon the royal word and unsuspicious of treachery
they repaired to the Alhambra. Seized and manacled, they were at
once delivered to an equal number of executioners, decapitated, and
their heads, fixed on pikes, were borne through the city, preceded
by a crier, as a suggestive warning to the disaffected. To such
atrocious methods was this petty tyrant compelled to resort in order
to maintain the existence of his uncertain and tottering authority.
While they were temporarily successful, they in fact still further
weakened a power based exclusively upon fear. All persons of wealth and
consequence who could do so secretly departed from the capital, and the
populace, suppressing the grief and indignation they felt on account
of the execution of their leaders, awaited impatiently the moment of
vengeance. On the other hand, the tireless and impetuous Al-Zagal,
taking advantage of the opportunity afforded by the retirement of the
Christians, carried ruin and dismay beyond the frontier. The garrison
of Nijar was massacred. Cullar was taken and burnt. From Almeria and
the towns of its jurisdiction predatory expeditions swept the fertile
valleys of Murcia. In the Serrania of Ronda and the Sierra Bermeja the
mountaineers revolted, visited with their destructive forays the plains
of Andalusia, and repulsed an attack of the Marquis of Cadiz, whose
operations were soon afterwards suspended on account of a succession of
tornadoes and earthquakes.

Meanwhile, the Spanish King had not been idle. Entering the dominions
of Al-Zagal from the side of Murcia,--a territory hitherto remote from
the seat of war and consequently exempt from its ravages,--he had
brought into subjection a large and important region, together with
the towns of Vera, Cuevas, Huescar, and many others, which, at the
appearance of the army, surrendered without resistance. Encouraged by
his success, he next appeared before Almeria. Unfortunately for his
plans, concerted with Moslem traitors in the city who had arranged
to betray their trust to the Christians, Al-Zagal had learned of
this design, had foiled it with his usual energy, and at that moment
the heads of the conspirators were fixed on the battlements of the
castle. The force of the Moorish King, which numbered twenty-one
thousand, attacked the advance guard of the enemy with irresistible
fury, defeated it, and compelled the whole army to retreat. Ferdinand
retired towards Baza, closely followed by Al-Zagal. Near that city the
Moslem veteran placed an ambush, into which he had no difficulty in
decoying the Spaniards. The advance guard was again routed, this time
with serious loss, and it required all the efforts of the King and his
ablest captains to save the army from destruction. Among the dead was
Don Philip of Aragon, nephew of Ferdinand, and many other distinguished
officers. The march of the Christians was severely harassed by the
enemy’s cavalry as far as the river Guadalquiton, a distance of twenty
miles.

In the month of May, 1489, Ferdinand once more invaded the Moorish
kingdom with the design of besieging Baza. His plans were well known
to Al-Zagal months before they were put into execution, and every
possible expedient was employed to counteract them. The entire country
was scoured for provisions. The magazines of the city were filled with
grain. Its arsenal was stocked with weapons. A stirring appeal from
their sovereign summoned to the defence of Baza the veterans of many
a hard-fought field, bold mountaineers of the Alpujarras, desperate
adventurers who had lost home and kindred by the casualties of war, and
hundreds of the gallant cavaliers of Granada, who, weary of inaction,
disgusted with their prince, and dreading the imputation of cowardice,
were eager to once more draw their swords in the cause of their country
and their religion.

The command of Baza was intrusted to Sidi Yahya, one of the ablest and
most conspicuous examples of Moslem chivalry produced by the wars of
the Reconquest. Of royal lineage and distinguished connections,--for
he was at once the nephew and the brother-in-law of Al-Zagal as well
as the hereditary prince of Almeria,--he had early exhibited talents
for war and diplomacy far beyond his years. A division of ten thousand
cavalry organized, equipped, and disciplined by him had attained the
highest state of efficiency possible in the rapid evolutions and crafty
stratagems which constituted the favorite tactics of Arab warfare.
In addition to this force, which in perfection of organization and
drill had no equal in the Moorish or Christian armies, Sidi Yahya had
at his disposal an equal number of well-armed troops, commanded by
experienced generals who had seen service under Al-Zagal and Muley
Hassan. The garrison of Baza consisted of ten thousand men, most of
them selected for their valor and fidelity from the flower of the
Moorish army, and the rest, animated by the memory of past injuries
and eager for retaliation, made up in ferocity what they lacked in
experience and discipline. In the arrangements for defence everything
had been taken into consideration which could either annoy an enemy or
deprive him of even the slightest advantage. The suburbs, by which Baza
in common with most Andalusian cities was surrounded, were evacuated.
The ripened crops were gathered and transported inside the walls. The
trees were stripped of their fruits. New passages were opened in the
suburban labyrinth of lanes and alleys to facilitate the movements of
the garrison and perplex the enemy, who, under similar circumstances,
had more than once encountered disaster. The well-fortified city of
Baza was of high antiquity, and had been a place of importance even
under the Carthaginian domination. It occupied the slope of a lofty
hill forming a spur of the sierra, was surrounded by walls of great
solidity, and defended by a castle of remarkable strength. Its environs
were occupied by groves and gardens, intersected by pathways arched
with verdure and bordered by hedges. A fertile valley thirty-two
miles long by twelve in width, irrigated by canals, and producing a
succession of harvests, displayed at every point evidences of the
highest degree of industry. Amidst its luxuriant plantations appeared
the white walls of numerous palaces and country-seats, inhabited or
frequented by the prominent residents of the city. From the ramparts of
the castle more than a thousand towers, distributed over the valley,
could be counted, places of refuge for the shepherd and the laborer in
case of a sudden alarm or a hostile inroad. The orchards extended more
than a mile from the walls of the suburbs, which, constructed rather
for enclosure than protection, were low, and composed of rough stones
put together with mud and lime.

Arrived before Baza, the great army of the Christians attempted to
penetrate the orchards and intrench itself near their inner border.
Conscious of the importance of preventing this movement, the garrison
issued from the city in force, and a hand-to-hand battle began.
Perfectly familiar with the locality, and able to thread at will the
maze of intersecting paths darkened by overhanging foliage, fighting
on foot against horsemen encumbered with heavy weapons and armor,
and more accustomed to such encounters than their adversaries, the
Moors readily obtained the advantage. Each tower and house sent forth
a stream of deadly missiles. Every hedge concealed a body of enemies
ready to fall upon the rear of an advancing column. The confined and
perplexing nature of the ground made it impossible to maintain the
line of battle, to obey the word of command, and often, amidst the
smoke and confusion, to distinguish friend from foe. The result of the
struggle was therefore largely dependent on the efforts of individual
courage. Each soldier sought an antagonist, and the savage combat
terminated only with the death of an enemy. The shady arcades of the
forest rang with the reports of musketry, the shouts of the combatants,
and the clash of steel upon steel. To add to the horrors of the scene,
some towers which had been taken by the Christians, and others, still
held by the Moors, were set on fire, and the shrieks of the tortured
wretches who occupied them and whose escape was cut off rose high above
the din of battle. Many prudent Spanish officers, recognizing the
disadvantages under which they labored and apprehensive of a disastrous
result, endeavored to withdraw their commands; but, utterly bewildered,
and unable to ascertain the direction of the camp, they were forced
to participate, against their will, in the dangers of the unequal and
uncertain contest. It raged with fury for twelve long hours; the press
of reinforcements hindered the retirement of those in the front of the
lines, and many unhurt fell from sheer exhaustion. At length, as night
was approaching, the superior endurance of the Christians prevailed,
and the Moslems, oppressed with fatigue but still undaunted, withdrew
to a palisade in the centre of the orchards, leaving to their opponents
the doubtful advantage of a bloody and barren victory.

After a short respite, the Moors, under cover of the darkness and aided
by the dense foliage which the Spaniards in the obscurity dared not
attempt to penetrate, resumed the fight; and until dawn the entire
force remained under arms, exposed to a galling fire of balls and
arrows discharged at easy range, which they were powerless to check and
unable to answer.

With the morning light appeared a scene of desolation where but the day
before had been displayed a picture of serenity and peace. The elegant
villas had been transformed into shapeless heaps of ashes. Over the
ground, trampled like a highway by the feet of thousands, were strewn
the melancholy proofs of the obstinacy with which the contest had been
waged,--broken weapons, dinted armor, tattered banners, blood-stained
garments, and hundreds of bodies distorted by the frightful agonies
of death. The grass and the flowers, which so recently presented a
pleasing contrast of many colors, had now assumed a uniform, crimson
hue. The air was still murky with the smoke of battle, which, absorbed
by the mist, the rays of the sun were slow to dissipate. When the
Spaniards had collected their wounded and buried their dead their
heavy loss was disclosed; and it became apparent that the present
position, taken in violation of every consideration of prudence, was
untenable. Convinced of his error, Ferdinand at once ordered the camp
to be removed to the plain, and, under a continuous fire, the soldiers
retired from the spot where the enterprise of its commanders had met
with such an inauspicious beginning. A council of war was then held
to determine the course to be adopted. A large preponderance of
votes favored the abandonment of the undertaking. In his perplexity,
Ferdinand, as was his custom in all important emergencies, solicited
the opinion of the Queen. Isabella, whose martial spirit and vigorous
understanding were averse to countenancing even an appearance of
indecision or cowardice, while leaving the determination of the
question to the army, plainly indicated her desire that the siege
should be prosecuted. Her answer was received with acclamations;
the misgivings of the wavering were removed by the confidence of
success which now pervaded the camp; and the city, soon invested on
all sides, excepting that of the sierra, began to realize that its
deliverance, if achieved at all, could only be secured after a severe
and protracted struggle. The immense extent of the lines which required
to be guarded exceeded the capacity and exhausted the power of even
ninety-five thousand men. In order to deprive the Moors of one of their
most valuable means of defence, the order was issued to cut down the
orchards. This proceeding, of itself one of extreme difficulty, was
rendered doubly hazardous by the enemy, who exhausted every resource
to prevent its accomplishment. An advance guard of seven thousand men
protected those detailed for the work of destruction. The number and
size of the trees were so great that the axemen could scarcely advance
ten paces in as many hours; and it required the incessant labor of
four thousand men forty days to complete the stupendous task. The
possession of every foot of ground was stubbornly contested; and,
besides the desultory attacks of skirmishers, twice every day the
Moors charged the slowly advancing line at several different points,
confusing the workmen with their cries, and taxing to the utmost the
energy and the resolution of those appointed to defend them. When,
finally, every tree had been removed, the line of circumvallation was
established. A ditch, protected by palisades, was excavated on the
sides towards the valley, and strengthened by fifteen castles built of
stone, which were distributed at intervals of three hundred paces along
the intrenchments. On the declivity of the sierra a double wall was
constructed, so that an attack from any quarter might be repelled. The
entire circuit of the fortified line was upward of twelve miles. Thus
completely surrounded, the activity of the besieged, hitherto incessant
and dangerous, was effectually restrained. An attempt to cut off the
water-supply of the city, which was obtained from a spring at the foot
of the mountain, was frustrated by the prudent diligence of the Moslems.

The monotonous course of the siege dragged wearily on, broken
occasionally by some gallant exploit or by some encounter marked by
the courtesy whose practice was inculcated by the chivalrous rules
of the tilt and the tournament. A foray to the gates of Guadix,
undertaken by that daring cavalier, Hernan Perez del Pulgar, whose
intrepid and often foolhardy achievements contribute so much to the
romantic interest attaching to the history of the War of Granada,
resulted in the defeat of a squadron of Moorish cavalry and the
seizure of a considerable number of cattle. The responsibility of the
entire expedition devolved on Pulgar, whose courage at a critical
moment saved the day and prevented the rout and capture of the entire
detachment. As rumors of the peril of Baza spread through the remaining
provinces of the kingdom, the Moors, aware that the fall of that
city would involve their own destruction, were everywhere overcome
with indignation and terror. An attempt to elude the vigilance of
the besiegers and introduce provisions and troops into the town met
with signal failure. Even in the capital, the selfish interests of
the mercantile community could no longer withstand the reproaches
of the people, who viewed with feverish apprehension the prospect
of the dissolution of their monarchy and the extinction of their
religion. Their seditious murmurs, which did not hesitate to suggest
the assassination of a treacherous king, reached the Alhambra; the
emissaries of Boabdil readily ascertained the identity of the leaders;
they were apprehended and beheaded; and this summary exhibition of
severity awed the indiscreet populace, which seemed never able to
learn that the first and most indispensable requisite of successful
insurrection is secrecy. Unable to grasp or appreciate the significance
of the events transpiring around him, unsuspicious or careless of the
part he was taking in the undermining of his dynasty, Boabdil remained
in inglorious retirement amidst the voluptuous delights of that palace
from whose enchanting precincts he was erelong to be expelled under
every circumstance of obloquy and shame. By his orders, the guaranty
of security and the promise of additional favors from Ferdinand and
Isabella to all who acknowledged his authority were proclaimed in every
market-place throughout his jurisdiction. Insensible to disgrace, he
accepted each month from the Spanish Court the stipend which confirmed
his subservient infamy; and, in return for this degrading compensation,
he subverted every attempt to repel the invaders of his country, and
diligently suppressed at its inception each demonstration in favor of
national integrity and independence.

In their despair, the Spanish Moslems now resorted to a strange
expedient. Distracted by their misfortunes, which seemed but the
prelude to greater calamities, and without friends or allies, they
turned in their distress to the Sultan of Turkey, a potentate who,
not only for his eminence as a Mussulman ruler, but also as Commander
of the Faithful, the religious representative of the Prophet, was
entitled to the reverence, as he was intrusted with the protection, of
the various nations of the Mohammedan world. In pathetic terms they
represented the evils to which they had for centuries been subjected by
Christian encroachment, their inability to longer resist the progress
of conquest, the sacrifices and losses they had been compelled to
endure, the enslavement of their brethren, and the difficulties which
their ultimate subjection must inevitably impose upon the existence and
perpetuation of the Moslem faith. Moved by the piteous supplication
of his fellow-sectaries, Bajazet II. despatched two Franciscan friars
to Rome, to threaten the Pope with retaliation upon the Christians in
his dominions--who under Turkish rule enjoyed the utmost liberty of
thought and action--unless he used his power to restrain his Catholic
dependents in Spain. His Holiness sent the envoys of the Sultan to the
Spanish Court bearing a letter from himself, which simply recounted
the facts, but prudently omitted any recommendations. The answer
of Ferdinand and Isabella was both ingenious and plausible. They
claimed, not unjustly, the entire Peninsula by right of inheritance;
an inheritance usurped by the ancestors of those who now laid claim
to territory about to be lost in the same manner in which it was
acquired; they declared that their title to this empire had never
been renounced or forfeited, but had been constantly asserted through
seven centuries of warfare; and that under their dominion all infidel
tributaries enjoyed privileges equal to those conferred upon Christians
in any Mohammedan community in the world. In order to gain the favor of
the Mussulman monarch, Ferdinand promised to assist him with men and
ships in the war which he was then waging against the Emir of Egypt.
The Catholic sovereigns seem to have had the best of the argument,
for nothing further is related of the controversy; and the Sultan
interfered no more in the affairs of the Peninsula, but left the
unfortunate votaries of Islam to their fate.

As the nature of the country through which Baza was approached made
the transportation of heavy artillery extremely difficult, it was
deemed preferable to reduce the city by blockade. All supplies were
necessarily conveyed by pack-train, and, in consequence of the great
amount required, there was occasionally a scarcity of provisions. No
inconvenient effects after five months of enforced seclusion were
apparent in the conduct of the people of Baza. The daily attacks,
skirmishes, defiances, continued without intermission; and while
deserters frequently reported the insufficiency of food, no evidence
of want was visible in the movements of the soldiers, whose activity
and prowess indicated anything but the weakness born of famine and
emaciation. The approach of winter, a season of great severity in the
mountains of Baza, inspired the Moors with renewed and enthusiastic
confidence. On the other hand, the Christians, admonished of the
hardships they were liable to encounter, prepared as best they could to
alleviate and endure them.

The executive ability of Isabella, who in every campaign had assumed
the arduous duty of keeping the army provided with whatever was
required for the conduct of military operations, was never more
eminently displayed than at the siege of Baza. Notwithstanding the
difficulties attaching to the carriage of supplies, plenty, for the
greater portion of the time, reigned in the besieging army. From the
head-quarters of the Queen at Jaen, convoys under strong escorts were
constantly passing and repassing through the mountains with vast
quantities of grain and munitions of war. Such confidence was felt
in the security of transportation through the enemy’s country that,
from every province of the Peninsula as well as from Sicily, merchants
brought their wares to the camp, where a ready market was found for
objects of luxury,--“articles,” as a contemporaneous chronicler
plaintively remarks, “which render soldiers effeminate and injure
armies, while they are in no respect advantageous to them.”

In accordance with their usual policy, the Spaniards proceeded to
impress the enemy with the permanent character of their enterprise. A
great number of huts of stone, cemented with mud, were built, and laid
out in streets with all the regularity of a town. In addition to these,
destined for the nobility and their vassals, many rude shelters were
constructed from the trunks and branches of trees for the accommodation
of the common soldiers, the horses, and the followers of the camp.
These labors had hardly been completed when a furious storm undermined
the walls, demolished the buildings, and involved in a scene of chaos
the quarters of the entire army. The lighter materials were instantly
swept away by the mountain torrents. Many soldiers were killed by the
crumbling hovels, or, pinned down by heavy weights, were suffocated in
the mire. The provisions were nearly all destroyed, and the roads so
damaged that communication with Jaen was completely interrupted. The
greatest distress soon prevailed. For nearly two weeks the soldiers
remained without shelter and almost without food. Wading knee-deep
in mud, drenched with constant rain, debilitated by hunger, hundreds
died from exposure and from the fevers resulting from unsanitary
conditions. During all this time the hostility of the Moors never for
a moment slackened. In sheer desperation the Christians, although
faint with weakness and disease, maintained their ground. Those who
had from the first advised against the siege as impracticable now
became importunate. The King listened to their remonstrances, and
began to consider in his own mind the propriety of a retreat. Once
more the inflexible resolution of Isabella revived the sinking spirits
of her consort and her subjects and restored the fortunes of the
campaign. In reply to the communications of Ferdinand, recounting the
difficulties and discouragements he was forced to endure, she urged
patience, determination, courage. Six thousand men were sent forth
at once from Jaen to clear and repair the paths through the sierra.
Convoys with ample supplies followed closely upon the heels of the
pioneers. In addition to this, knowing that the soldiers deprived of
their pay for months were impatient and inclined to be mutinous, the
Queen wrote personal letters to the wealthy nobles requesting advances
of money, and deposited her own gold and silver plate and jewels in
Barcelona and Valencia, as security for loans. An idea may be formed
of the straits to which the treasury had been reduced by the war from
the fact that the royal crown of Castile and a magnificent necklace of
great value on which sixty thousand florins had been advanced remained
in the latter city unredeemed in 1490, six years after they had been
pledged. By these energetic measures a large sum was obtained, from
which all arrears could be discharged and the remainder applied to the
prosecution of war.

But while this substantial assistance was of the greatest value
in preserving the army, it was far from removing the prevalent
apprehension and discontent. The great reliance that was placed on the
Queen, and the universal respect entertained for her judgment, were
now manifested in the general desire that she should visit the camp.
The King did not hesitate to declare that he sorely needed her advice.
Those who still favored the continuance of active operations hoped
that her presence would infuse fresh enthusiasm into the minds of the
disheartened troops; the malcontents, weary of hardship and sighing
for the pleasures of Cordova and Seville, were convinced that personal
experience of the dangers of the siege, which, while productive of
enormous expense and loss of life, offered little prospect of adequate
compensation, would induce their sovereign to favor the abandonment
of such an unprofitable enterprise. Six months had elapsed without
the acquirement of any substantial advantage. In spite of the fact
that every day of that time had been marked by one or more bloody
encounters, the Moslems were apparently as determined as ever. The
reports of deserters now conveyed the information that provisions for
several months still remained in the city. The women of Baza, animated
by a noble spirit of self-denial, had contributed their jewels to pay
the garrison. All attempts at negotiation--considered by the Moors as
conclusive evidences of weakness--had been repulsed, and the latter did
not conceal their expectation that the winter storms would yet force
the retreat of the enemy. But the inability to employ heavy ordnance
was the most serious drawback of all. Without it the fortifications of
Baza were impregnable. The reduction by blockade was tedious, perilous,
uncertain. While, as in the case of Malaga, no relief from exterior
sources could be expected, the besieged were not exposed to artillery
fire, and the event was, in fact, entirely a question of physical
endurance.

Under these discouraging circumstances, Isabella set out from Jaen.
In her train were members of the Royal Council, Cardinal Mendoza, the
Archbishop of Seville, and an imposing array of prelates and nobles,
of knights and ladies, who represented the piety, the dignity, and the
beauty of the Court. The arrival of the Queen diffused universal joy
and confidence throughout the camp; hostilities, which heretofore had
been incessant, were suspended; silence and peace reigned where but
a few hours before had resounded the noise and turmoil of conflict;
and the Moors began to evince a disposition to entertain proposals
for surrender, which until this time they had persistently refused to
consider. In consequence of this favorable inclination of the besieged,
an interview was held between the Don Gutierre de Cardenas, Commander
of Leon, as the representative of the Catholic sovereigns, and Sidi
Yahya, the Moslem governor. The question was submitted to the citizens
of Baza, and by them referred to Al-Zagal. In their representations
to the King, the people set forth the painful circumstances of their
extremity, the hopelessness of aid, the apparently inexhaustible
resources of the enemy, and their dread of the consequences, if
misfortune should follow further resistance. To this appeal Al-Zagal
generously replied that it was his wish that his subjects should act in
this case as might seem most advantageous to them.

When this decision became known the utmost consternation spread
throughout the great city of Guadix. Long the seat of royal power,
isolated by its retired situation and by the mountains that surrounded
it from active participation in, or personal experience of, the events
which had contributed to the downfall of the monarchy, its inhabitants
looked forward with undisguised repugnance and fear to the supremacy of
a foreign ruler and the introduction of a hostile religion. The people,
divided into two parties, one of which favored submission and the other
resistance, were distracted by the contradictory arguments of the
leaders, whose indignation was intensified by the acrimony of dispute;
general distrust prevailed; the exercise of authority was for the
moment suspended; the streets resounded with pathetic lamentations;
and the trembling citizens, with pallid faces and half-frenzied with
terror, asked each other if even their lives would be spared. It was
with the utmost difficulty that persons of influence and distinction
could pacify their ignorant neighbors, whose excited feelings had
rendered them a prey to the most dismal apprehensions.

The reply of Al-Zagal was no sooner received than Sidi Yahya made
arrangements for the surrender of Baza. Some provisions of the articles
of capitulation were secret, and were never divulged. Many Moors of
high rank were enriched by their subserviency to the enemy, which
indicated a previous understanding, unsuspected at the time by their
countrymen. The terms made public were almost identical with the
most favorable ones granted to other cities. Non-residents who had
volunteered their assistance during the siege were dismissed without
restraint or ransom. All were confirmed in the possession of their
personal effects; to the citizens was accorded the choice of continued
residence or emigration; no restriction was to be imposed on the use
of laws, customs, language, or religion; the taxes were to remain
unchanged; and, in consideration of their obedience, the people were
to fully enjoy the protection and receive the assistance of their new
sovereigns. Hostages were delivered by the governor and the principal
officials of the city; valuable gifts were presented to the latter, who
did homage to the King and Queen; and the six days within which the
city was to be evacuated, as provided by the treaty, having elapsed,
Baza, after a most memorable defence, passed into the hands of the
Christians on the fourth day of December, 1489.

As soon as information of its surrender had reached the various towns
within its jurisdiction, their magistrates hastened to secure equal
advantages by a timely submission. Within a few days, Almuñecar,
Purchena, Tabernas, the innumerable settlements of the Alpujarras--in
short, all the territory lying between Almeria and Granada--were
added to the rapidly extending dominions of the Spanish Crown. The
influence of Sidi Yahya, who visited Guadix for that purpose, was
the means of inducing Al-Zagal to relinquish that city and Almeria,
with their dependencies, the last relics of his diminished empire.
The valiant old soldier, who had so long and so stoutly withstood the
attacks of adverse fortune, was certainly deserving of a better fate.
His sagacity and penetration readily convinced him of the futility
of further resistance; he submitted with humility to the inexorable
decree of Allah, and yielded with apparent willingness, but inward
abhorrence, the sole remaining vestiges of his power. In return for
these concessions his conquerors generously granted him his life, and
the government of the small and barren principality of Andarax, where
the habitual deference of his inferiors and the indulgence of fortune
permitted him, for a time, the enjoyment of the titles and the exercise
of the privileges of royalty.

Of the fragments of the vast and opulent Hispano-Arab monarchy, with
its scores of magnificent cities, its landscape diversified by all
the evidences of agricultural science and industry, its harbors the
seat of a world-wide commerce, its society graced by every refinement
of literary and artistic culture, there remained now but a limited
and distracted province, bounded by the mountain ranges which
encompassed its capital. That capital, although for years subjected
to the pernicious and destructive effects of constant revolution and
sanguinary disorder, still preserved, to a great extent, untarnished
and unimpaired, its pristine elegance and beauty. Through the
interested and politic forbearance of its enemies, it retained the
delusive semblance of freedom and the pretensions of an imperial
metropolis. No diminution in the number of its inhabitants was
perceptible. The places of those sacrificed in foreign and domestic
wars had been filled by refugees from ravaged lands and plundered
cities. It was only in the decimated ranks of the nobility that the
appalling results of national misfortune were apparent. Few indeed
remained of those gallant cavaliers whose exploits in the field had
for years sustained the exalted reputation of the Granadan chivalry.
Of the five thousand present at the accession of Muley Hassan, but
three hundred had survived. In the superb palaces, a royal slave,
supported by a monthly pension from the Spanish Crown, maintained
the unsubstantial parade of sovereignty and power. There were few
indications visible to suggest the frightful scenes through which the
city had passed. The barricades raised by armed sedition had been
removed. The blood-stains had disappeared from the streets. Far above,
on the highest tower of the citadel, might be discerned, impaled on
pikes and beaten by many a storm, the grisly heads of those political
agitators who had paid the penalty of unsuccessful insurrection with
their lives. Except these significant tokens of despotic severity there
was nothing to indicate the threatening cloud which hung over fair
Granada. Within the ample circuit of its walls the hand of war had
not yet placed its withering grasp. Its orchards still yielded their
delicious fruits. Its gardens were still fragrant with the mingled
odors of myriads of blossoms. In the bazaars, traders from every
province of the Peninsula, relying upon the assurance of Christian
protection, exchanged in peace their various wares. In the factories,
which still produced in diminished quantities the richest fabrics,
the busy artisans plied their trades. But this condition of apparent
tranquillity was delusive. In the breasts of the aristocracy still
rankled the enmity of generations. The populace was exasperated by
tyranny and the infliction of long-continued outrage. The calamities
induced by treason and barbarity were first in the minds of all. No
exhibition of royal pomp could conceal the fact that the King had been
for years a vassal of the infidel. No concession to public prejudice
could atone for the butchery of relatives, the invasion of privacy,
the confiscation of treasure. Over palace and mosque, over park and
thoroughfare, hovered the ineffaceable memories of recent and bloody
fraternal strife. In every public edifice, in every private abode, the
trophies of victory reposed in suggestive proximity to the emblems of
mourning and death.

The Vega, however, once the marvel of agricultural perfection and
the centre of Moslem industry, presented a far different appearance.
The verdant groves with which its surface had been diversified were
gone. Its hydraulic system was disarranged and in part destroyed;
the canals were filled up with rubbish; the rivulets diverted from
their former course, and useless. Instead of the splendid villas,
the graceful mosques, the snowy cottages embowered in roses, a few
straggling huts rose at intervals over the uniform scene of ruin and
devastation. Here and there, a patch of green, marking the spot where
cultivation had begun to revive, contrasted with the generally charred
and desolate aspect of the landscape. An occasional half-demolished
tower indicated the former refuge of the laborer, sufficient against an
ordinary marauding party, but powerless before armies numbering tens of
thousands.

To such limited dimensions was the once all-powerful Moslem empire in
Europe now reduced. Almost from the very day of its foundation it had
been distracted by feud and sedition. It had witnessed the rise and
growth of kingdoms; the birth of dynasties which from insignificant
beginnings now bade fair to overshadow the world with their power; the
portentous growth of a religious system that already menaced liberty of
thought, and was soon to exert a potent and wide-spread influence for
evil. The banner of the Cross had moved in a slow but steady progress
from the frozen valleys of the Pyrenees to the verdant banks of the
Darro. The cold, inhospitable region of the Asturias, destitute of
the smiling attractions of Nature, without military roads or adequate
subsistence, had repelled the assaults and checked the enterprise of
the Moslems, who disdained and avoided a foe equally remarkable for
poverty, fanaticism, and valor. The inability to appreciate and the
neglect to crush this once despised but eventually formidable enemy
was the first step in the decline of the Moorish power. Its fall was
accelerated by many diverse circumstances. The glaring defects of its
monarchical system, the absolute want of cohesion of its numerous
and discordant political elements, the manifold evils derived from
polygamous institutions and disputed inheritance, all became manifest
when the factions of Islam began to contend for superiority in the
bitter and interminable struggle for wealth and dominion.

In the rapidity and perfection of its intellectual development no
nation ever approached the Spanish Arabs. But as their rise was sudden
and brilliant, so their fall was the more crushing and disastrous. The
truism that progressive degeneracy is the inevitable fate of every
people who have reached the highest point of intellectual culture and
material progress was once more to be demonstrated. Unfortunately for
humanity, while the physical sciences advance, the art of government
almost invariably retrogrades. The most perfect form of civilization
is not favorable to the permanence of a state existing under the most
finished social conditions. The greater the degree of intelligence, the
lower the standard of political morality. These facts are strikingly
exemplified in the closing history of the kingdom of Granada. At
that period no people was as far advanced in the attainment of
knowledge; in the practical application of scientific principles; in
familiarity with and appreciation of the mechanical and the elegant
arts. And, it must be added, nowhere was there less patriotism, less
loyalty, less of that spirit of mutual concession and self-sacrifice
indispensable to the preservation of communities and the maintenance
of empire. Sovereign and subject alike, by turns, betrayed each other
to the enemy. The most sacred obligations that can exist between the
governors and the governed were repudiated without a blush. Crimes
that would have appalled barbarians were so common as scarcely to
excite comment. An ignoble competition seemed to exist between bodies
of citizens of the same blood, and professing the same religious
faith, to throw themselves into the power of an artful and perfidious
adversary who was the mortal enemy of all. A universal degradation,
from whose blight even the most illustrious were not exempt, pervaded
all classes,--a condition which had at last reached its climax after
its gradual development through centuries, and was finally disclosed
by that perversion of manners, morals, government, and laws which so
significantly indicates the corruption and the decadence of nations.

The main provision in the compact exacted at Loja by the Catholic
sovereigns from Boabdil in his distress involved the surrender of
Granada and all the contiguous territory subject to his jurisdiction,
as soon as the dominions of Al-Zagal had been incorporated into the
Spanish monarchy. Compliance with the terms of this agreement was now
formally demanded. The weak and unprincipled King, who in making
the bargain had never anticipated its enforcement or appreciated the
debilitated condition of the kingdom and the imminent danger of its
downfall, was thunderstruck when he learned that the power of his
uncle had suddenly collapsed. It had been his hope that the complacent
subserviency he had exhibited in the protection of the interests
of his country’s enemies, the abject submission with which he had
implored their aid against his subjects, and the costly gifts which
he had secretly distributed among influential courtiers standing
in the shadow of the throne, would suffice to procure for him the
enjoyment of at least the name and the appearance of royal authority
for the remainder of his life. Therefore, with a view to deferring the
evil, yet with no definite expectation of preventing it, he tried to
temporize. He represented that immediate fulfilment of his contract
was impossible, for the reason that, as great numbers of persons
driven out of the conquered territory had since become citizens of
Granada, it was necessary to consult their interests and obtain their
acquiescence in the terms demanded. Anxious to avoid a renewal of
hostilities, Ferdinand offered to bestow upon him certain estates
from whose revenue he might live in luxury, dependent solely upon the
acknowledgment of vassalage and the payment of a moderate tribute. But
Boabdil, always vacillating when promptness and decision were required,
always headstrong when the exigencies of the occasion demanded
compliance, as usual adopted an impolitic course. Turning a deaf ear
to the remonstrances of his most sagacious advisers, who recognized
the advantages of submission and the folly of resistance, he began
to listen to the rash counsels of the youthful nobles and desperate
adventurers whose votes were unanimously for war.

Then Ferdinand sent to the people of Granada a copy of the secret
treaty which revealed the perfidy and dishonor of their King. Its
publication aroused such universal indignation and contempt that
nothing but his inaccessible position in the citadel of the Alhambra
saved his life. The streets were filled with a surging mob, whose
clamors rose menacingly to the battlements of the palace. The
renegades, santons, exiles, and soldiers of fortune inflamed the
fickle and turbulent populace, whose supremacy signified anarchy,
proscription, and death. Fortunately for the detested monarch, the
soldiers remained faithful to his cause, and their devotion alone
preserved him from the violence of his infuriated subjects. By
strenuous efforts the old Arab aristocracy and the wealthy merchants
finally succeeded in restoring order. The crowds, still uttering
ominous threats, sullenly dispersed. The shops were once more opened.
Traffic was resumed, and the citizens, with a despairing sense of
helplessness and trepidation, moved uneasily through the streets.
Boabdil, conscious that the only choice now left to him was that of
abdication or war, selected the latter alternative, and publicly
announced his intention to fight, and to prolong, if he could not
palliate, the last throes of an expiring monarchy. The conditions
resulting from the suddenly altered relations of the courts of
Castile and Granada obtained for the Moors some minor advantages; the
castle of Padul and a few other forts near the capital were taken; an
expedition led by Ferdinand in person through the Vega for the purpose
of destroying the harvests failed to thoroughly accomplish its object;
and, constantly harassed by the enemy, the Christians were eventually
forced to retreat.

The pitiful remnant of the kingdom of Granada, heretofore torn by
sedition and threatened with conquest, was now to experience the active
hostility of those who should have ventured their lives to defend
it before it was reduced to extremity. The eminent qualities of Sidi
Yahya, the former governor of Baza, his courtesy and his prowess, his
illustrious birth, and the gallantry with which he had maintained his
trust, had extorted the reluctant applause of his enemies, commendation
formerly denied to others of equal merit but inferior lineage. These
noble attributes had, however, recently been darkened by actions which
brought upon him the imputation of corruption, apostasy, venality, and
treason. He was more than suspected of having sacrificed the people of
Baza for his personal benefit. Men eyed with suspicion the favor he
enjoyed with the Christians, the sudden wealth he had acquired, the
close relations he maintained with the enemy. These accusations, which
his subsequent conduct tended rather to confirm than to remove, were
well grounded. In recognition of his influence great interest was taken
in him. Every attempt was made to induce him to renounce his religion.
The most learned and distinguished prelates labored to convince him of
his errors. Even the Queen interposed her good offices in an attempt at
proselytism. Magnificent presents were bestowed upon him as an earnest
of greater and more substantial rewards. At first, amidst all of the
importunity and temptation of his zealous advisers, the constancy
of the subtle Moor remained apparently unshaken. This firmness was,
however, simulated. He had long before determined to profit by the
certain benefits of a voluntary conversion. His resistance only served
to enhance the credit of those who effected his apparent change
of heart. After having been duly “catechised,” as the chronicler
significantly remarks, he became a good Christian, and was secretly
received into the bosom of the Church.

Sidi Yahya, anxious to demonstrate his fidelity to his new suzerain
and to remove any prejudice that might result from his contumacy,
evinced the greatest enthusiasm for the Spanish cause. With a hundred
and fifty followers, he assisted in the foray which laid waste the
environs of Granada; and, by the use of a well-worn stratagem, captured
an important outpost of the capital, and earned at the same time the
applause of his recently acquired friends and the execration of those
still bound to him by the ties of a common ancestry, and who had been
so lately professors of a common faith. Upon the elevation now known
as The Soto de Roma, two leagues from the city, stood in the fifteenth
century a strong castle, built to protect the royal orchards and parks
by which it was surrounded. At the head of his command and apparently
escorting a number of Christian captives, Sidi Yahya approached the
fortress, and, stating that he was closely pursued, requested immediate
shelter. The soldiers of the garrison, deceived by the dress, by the
arms, and especially by the language of the strangers, whom they
supposed to be a party from Granada, without hesitation opened the
gates. A few moments afterwards they were prisoners; their pretended
friends disclosed the fact that they were the vassals of Spain; and
the banner of Castile and Leon was raised upon the battlements. By
such methods did the renowned Moorish captain attempt to emphasize his
new allegiance, thereby meriting the detestation of every faithful
Moslem, and tarnishing the lustre of a military record which, until
his political and religious apostasy, had remained without a blemish.
Al-Zagal also answered the summons of Ferdinand with two hundred
cavalry; and, in sight of those towers where he had formerly reigned
supreme, displayed the same dash and courage which had signalized
his operations while he was the most formidable adversary of those
sovereigns whom the fortunes of war now compelled him to serve in a
subordinate capacity.

The exploit of the princely apostate was soon eclipsed by the capture
of Alhendin. That castle, situated near Granada, was one of the
strongest in the Vega, and had not long before surrendered to the
Spaniards without resistance. Invested suddenly by the forces of
Boabdil, the slender garrison was unable to withstand the impetuous
attack of the Moors, who fought in relays and left the besieged no
respite day or night. Four days sufficed to reduce the Christians to
extremity; all communication with their friends being interrupted
left them no alternative but submission; they were led in triumph to
the dungeons of the capital, and Alhendin was razed to the ground.
After Alhendin, the castles of Alboloduy and Marchena attracted the
hostility of the Moorish King. Both were stormed and pillaged; their
Castilian garrisons were enslaved, and the lands dependent on them,
which formed part of the fief of Sidi Yahya, were ravaged without
mercy. The Mudejares of the surrounding country were tortured or
massacred; the cattle driven away; and the victorious Boabdil returned
to Granada, where he was received with the greatest enthusiasm. These
brilliant deeds raised the fainting hopes of the Moslems; prompted
by the deceptive but plausible expectations of victory, they dreamed
of the return of independence and the restoration of empire; the
army increased rapidly in numbers; and arrangements were made for
the prosecution of an extensive and vigorous campaign. The siege of
Salobreña, whose port offered easy communication with the African
coast, was next undertaken. Its defenders, provided with insufficient
rations, were soon oppressed with hunger, and, exhausted by the
desperate charges of the Moslem soldiery, who, adopting the tactics
successful at Alhendin, maintained a furious and incessant combat,
the suburbs and the town were stormed; and the garrison, driven to the
citadel, began to yield to despair. The numbers of the enemy and their
strong position rendered the relief of the place impossible without
the aid of a powerful army; but Hernan Perez del Pulgar, with seventy
lances, cut his way through the lines, and his arrival infused new
energy into the despondent minds of the besieged. Again and again the
Moorish battalions were repulsed; there was no time for the employment
of the slow but more certain operations of artillery; intelligence
reached the Moslems that Ferdinand was approaching; and Boabdil, after
a rapid and inglorious retreat, found safety within the walls of his
capital. The unexpected spirit displayed by the Moorish King aroused
the martial ardor of the Mudejares, who had so recently renounced their
allegiance to Al-Zagal, and were eager to cast off the yoke which they
had assumed from necessity. Communication was secretly opened between
the malcontents of Guadix, Almeria, Baza, and the Moslem court; many
recruits from these and other cities enlisted in the army of Granada;
and preparations for a conspiracy were inaugurated which only awaited a
propitious moment to burst forth into a general and bloody insurrection.

It was impossible to preserve a secret known to whole communities, and,
informers being abundant among the Moors, it was not long before full
details of the plot were in possession of the Spanish authorities. As
practically all of the Mudejares were implicated, either as active
participants or as sympathizers, it was not considered advisable to
inflict the extreme severity of punishment that the case demanded, so
milder, but fully as effective, measures were decided upon. Guadix
was the centre of the disaffection, and the Marquis of Villena,
Captain-General of the district, induced all the inhabitants of that
city to gather outside the walls under pretext of an enumeration.
He then closed the gates, acquainted them with the reason for this
precaution, and ordered them to await the arrival of the King.
When Ferdinand came, a few days subsequently, he declared that the
unfortunate people of Guadix had forfeited their claims to protection
or clemency, and he gave them the alternative of immediate exile
or a tributary residence in his dominions in open and unfortified
villages. The same rigorous terms were offered to Baza and Almeria;
a large emigration to Tlemcen and Fez took place; a considerable
number of industrious Moors established themselves in Andalusia, where
the Inquisition eventually visited its tortures upon them or their
descendants; and thus, without the least effort or even apparent
formality of confiscation, the rich possessions of the Moors--their
elegant villas, their plantations and vineyards, their sumptuous
residences, mosques, and gardens--passed into the rapacious hands of
the Christians.

The mountaineer subjects of Al-Zagal regarded with anything but
approval his renunciation of his rights of sovereignty and the zeal
he displayed in the service of the national enemy. After the capture
of Alhendin they rebelled, declared for Boabdil, and attempted the
murder of the venerable monarch whom in the day of his glory they had
honored with almost the reverence due to a divinity. Al-Zagal, well
aware of what the consequences would be if he remained, signified
his willingness to surrender the paltry dignity he had received in
exchange for his abdication for five million maravedis and free
transportation to Africa, which had been among the conditions of the
treaty. Ferdinand eagerly accepted his proposition; the Moslem prince
with a great following passed the sea; and thus the Spanish monarchy
not only acquired a considerable increase of territory, but was
delivered from a vassal who lacked only the provocation, which might at
any time arise, to prove a most dangerous enemy. Nothing in mediæval
history is more sad than the ultimate fate of this brave old warrior
who had faced death with undaunted spirit on a hundred fields of
battle. The perfidious Sultan of Fez, in ruthless violation of the laws
of hospitality, plundered, imprisoned, and blinded him. The dashing
general, who had once been the idol of the populace of Granada and the
pride of its soldiery, wandered for many years a beggar, clad in rags,
through the cities of Northern Africa, an object of pity and curiosity
to the rabble of the Desert, by whom he was pointed out to strangers as
the former King of Andalusia.

It was at this time that the Quixotic personage Pulgar, whose reckless
spirit delighted in the achievement of hazardous undertakings, which,
to men of rational judgment, seemed foolhardy and impracticable,
performed the most noted and perilous of all his feats. With fifty
followers he set out one night from Alhama to burn the city of Granada.
Guided by a faithful renegade, the party remained concealed during
the day in an obscure and unfrequented valley of the sierra, and, as
darkness came on, they silently approached the walls enclosing the
channel of the Darro until they reached a bridge. Under this, six
were detailed to remain and guard the horses, while Pulgar and the
others entered the city. The Moslem capital was plunged in slumber,
and the adventurers, issuing from a sewer into the silent streets,
proceeded to the principal mosque. There Pulgar, in a characteristic
spirit of bravado, unfolded a paper on which was inscribed the legend,
“Ave Maria,” and pinned it with his dagger to the bronze-plated door.
Then hastening to the Alcaiceria, or Silk-Market, he produced a fagot
with which he was provided and prepared to start the conflagration.
At the last moment, it was discovered that the tinder, indispensable
for this purpose, had been left at the mosque. While trying to strike
fire with flint and steel, a patrol suddenly appeared. The Spaniards,
drawing their swords, drove back the enemy, and, retiring to the spot
where they had left their companions, all rode rapidly away. This
exploit of Pulgar, which appealed so strongly to the romantic natures
of his countrymen, gained for him also the admiring commendation of
his sovereigns, who granted him during his lifetime the seat of honor
in the cathedral choir, and at his death placed his tomb upon the very
spot where he knelt to plant his dagger in the door of the great Moslem
temple.

Everything now being in readiness for the final campaign, Ferdinand,
on the twentieth of April, 1491, at the head of fifty thousand men in
two grand divisions, again entered the Vega. The Marquis of Villena
was despatched to the Alpujarras to destroy the provisions collected
there for the use of the capital. Then the army went into permanent
quarters in an intrenched camp near Granada, where it was soon joined
by the Queen. On account of its great population, as well as the
desire to preserve as mementos of conquest its splendid architectural
monuments, it had been determined to reduce the city by famine.
Parties were organized to scour the country in every direction and
cut off all supplies. Frequent expeditions, made in force, swept for
a radius of many miles every trace of verdure from the face of the
land. The beautiful suburbs, which had hitherto been exempt from
hostile violence, now became a prey to the ruthless destroyer. In vain,
Boabdil, charging at the head of his cavalry, endeavored to stay his
resistless progress. His soldiers were repulsed; his guard was cut to
pieces; and he himself only escaped the evils of a second and a more
disastrous captivity through the superior swiftness of his horse. The
orchards and vineyards on the western side of the city were laid waste,
and all the buildings within reach of the Spaniards--castles, mills,
villas, palaces, and towers--were involved in one common destruction.

Two months after the resumption of hostilities, the carelessness
of a servant of the royal household set fire to a tent; and the
conflagration caused by the accident swept away in a few moments the
entire Christian camp. Great confusion ensued; the troops were called
to arms, and means at once taken to repel an attack should one be
attempted; but the enemy remained quietly behind his defences. Any
fallacious hopes that might have arisen in the minds of the Moors as a
result of this catastrophe were soon dissipated. A substantial city,
regularly laid out and fortified, guarded by ditches and gates, and
provided with an ample square in the centre for the parade and exercise
of troops, soon rose upon the site of the ruined encampment, and was
named, with the characteristic piety of its founders, Santa Fé.

The siege of Granada, while one of the most important in the history
of the Reconquest, was not, like many others, diversified by any
incidents of absorbing interest. An occasional skirmish with indecisive
results; a foray and the burning of some isolated castle; a chivalric
encounter of knights challenged by mortal defiance; a perpetual
succession of rounds and patrols,--such were the monotonous events
which characterized the investment of the last Moslem stronghold.
Every reliance was placed upon the blockade, and the use of heavy
ordnance was not adopted at any time in the reduction of the city.
The intrepidity of the Moslems was never more conspicuous than in
this their final struggle for national existence. The rapid and
terrifying evolutions, the wild and furious charge, the unsuspected and
treacherous ambuscade peculiar to their tactics, were all employed
with audacious courage and crafty resource, but with indifferent
success. Before long, the great multitude within the walls began to
experience the agonies of hunger. With want came discontent; with
discontent, clamorous demands for capitulation, and ominous murmurs
of sedition and violence. The infuriated populace swarmed in the
public places, threatening the wealthy with pillage and the monarch
with death. The prospect of the triumph of the odious infidel aroused
the fanaticism of the santons, who, counselling resistance to the
end, communicated their frenzy to their superstitious followers,
thus vastly increasing the difficulties of the situation. Outside
of the citadel anarchy reigned supreme. The doors of all the shops
and houses were closed and barricaded. The nobles and the principal
citizens took refuge in the Alhambra; and there an assembly of all
those of conspicuous dignity and influence was held to determine on the
course to be pursued. The vote was unanimous in favor of submission.
Boabdil acquiesced in silence; and Abul-Kasim, the governor of the
city, was deputed to visit the Christian camp in the character of
envoy and open negotiations relative to surrender. Received with
every mark of courtesy, the Moorish ambassador obtained at once the
concession of a truce of thirty days’ duration from the first day of
December. The articles of capitulation were much more liberal than
any heretofore granted to the vanquished Moslems, but in their scope
and significance there was a general similarity. Rendered wise by
experience, the Moors endeavored to have the treaty guaranteed by
the Pope, and its observance sworn to by the Spanish monarchs; but
the omission of these doubtful warrants of security was obtained by
the bribery of their commissioners, who quietly and successfully
ignored the instructions of their countrymen. In consideration of
the delivery of Granada and its surrounding territory, the Catholic
sovereigns bound themselves and their royal descendants to forever
permit the Moors to practise without molestation or injury the rites of
their faith and the observances prescribed by their customs and their
laws. Their mosques were to be always consecrated to their worship,
and their sanctity was to be inviolate and never profaned by the
presence of a misbeliever. All regulations relative to the collection
of revenues for sacred purposes were to continue in force; Moslem
judges were to preside in the tribunals; and the laws which governed
the transfers of real property, as well as those of inheritance and
every form of civil rights, were to remain unaltered. In regard to
public instruction, absolute independence was solemnly guaranteed,
and the interference of Christians with schools or with anything
pertaining thereto was prohibited. Unqualified liberty of conscience
was conceded to the children of mingled Spanish and Moorish blood;
all debts and obligations previously incurred were to be faithfully
discharged and all penalties exacted; disputes between Christian and
Moslem were to be settled amicably by arbitration; and the alguazils
and other executive officers appointed under the Moslem code were to
discharge, without interruption, their various and respective duties.
In other articles were embodied sanitary and police regulations,--the
distinction of markets, the preservation and purity of the waters, and
numerous matters of inferior importance arising from the dissimilarity
of social customs and the wide divergence exhibited by the forms and
ceremonies of two irreconcilable religions. In addition to these were
certain provisions defining the rights and privileges conferred upon
Boabdil and his relatives, and the enumeration of the possessions
they were hereafter to enjoy. As a return for the invaluable services
he had rendered his enemies at the expense of his country, the
richest portions of the royal patrimony, embracing twelve extensive
districts, were declared to be vested in perpetuity in himself and his
descendants; all the members of his family received large estates; the
Valley of Purchena was allotted to him as the principality for which he
was to render homage; and an ample pension was added by the apparent
gratitude or suspicious generosity of the conquerors.

On the second day of January, 1492, preparations were made for the
relinquishment of the last vestige of Moslem power in the Spanish
Peninsula. Seven hundred and eighty years had elapsed since the army
of Tarik had shattered and overthrown the crumbling fabric of the
Visigothic monarchy. As a result of that event, a handful of despised
and neglected peasants, hidden in the mist-clad mountains of the North,
had formed a nucleus around which had clustered the elements of a
great nation and the fame and prestige of an invincible soldiery. The
conquest just achieved, important as it was, was still but trifling
in comparison with those which, in the succeeding century, were to
be gained by the arms of that far-famed and chivalrous nation. The
wealth of the Spanish Arabs was insignificant when contrasted with
the incalculable treasures of Mexico and Peru. The capture of Malaga
and Granada was almost inappreciable in national glory and political
effect when compared with the battle of Pavia or the siege and sack
of Rome. But it was still a magnificent triumph; the culmination of
centuries of battle; the realization of the dreams of many generations
of princes and prelates, the accomplishment of whose aims seemed often
chimerical and hopeless. Every circumstance was called into play,
every resource adopted, to make the spectacle of the rendition of the
Moslem capital imposing and memorable. The entire army was drawn up in
military array. The field was gay with waving banners, burnished armor,
many-colored mantles, and surcoats of silk and cloth of gold. All the
splendid chivalry of Castile were present; some, representatives of
ancient and illustrious houses who traced their lineage back to the
court of Roderick; others, whose patents of nobility of more recent
date had been won in long and honorable warfare against the infidel.
Among these were to be seen the white turban and striped burnous of the
Arab, who would have resented the epithets of traitor and renegade,
but who, actuated by inherited prejudice or tribal jealousy, had not
hesitated to draw his sword against his brethren. Not less conspicuous
than the nobles were the prelates, in full canonicals, preceded by
Cardinal Mendoza, Primate of Spain, one of whose attendants bore the
massive cross, still preserved in the Cathedral of Toledo, soon to be
raised, symbolizing the triumph of Christian over Moorish superstition,
on the loftiest tower of the Alhambra. The heralds who preceded the
royal escort were dressed in tabards emblazoned with the arms of
Castile and Leon in silver, gold, and scarlet. In the centre of a
brilliant group came Isabella, attired in rich brocade and mounted upon
a white palfrey, whose housings of embroidered velvet swept the ground.

There, too, was Ferdinand, proud, stern, impassive; his stolid
features bearing no evidence of the exultation he must have felt,
yet willing to concede to his martial consort the larger portion of
the credit attaching to the crowning glory of the Christian cause.
Around the monarchs were assembled the princes of the blood, the great
dignitaries of the realm in their robes and bearing their insignia
of office, the haughty grandees, the female members of the Queen’s
household in splendid costumes and glittering jewels, the famous
warriors whose prowess had made their names familiar to every nation
in Europe,--sheathed in polished steel, with lance and buckler, with
pennon and heraldic device,--in all a picture worthily representing the
pomp and the magnificence, the pride and the renown, of the Spanish
monarchy. As the splendid procession swept forward amidst the blare of
trumpets, the strains of martial music, the waving of banners, and the
tumultuous applause of thousands, and halted on an elevation near the
Genil, a gate of the Alhambra swung slowly open. From it issued a band
of horsemen, whose appearance and dress indicated that their origin and
customs were foreign to the continent of Europe. At their head rode
a cavalier encased in armor exquisitely damascened, and whose fair
complexion and tawny beard offered a striking contrast to the swarthy
features of those who formed his retinue. The latter were clothed in
flowing robes of silk woven in stripes of every hue, revealing, when
moved by the morning breeze, shining coats of mail and scimetars set
with gems and inlaid with gold.

The interview of the sovereigns was short and almost devoid of
ceremony. Obsequious to the last, Boabdil attempted to dismount and
kiss the hand of his conqueror, but the Spanish King, with generous
and unaffected courtesy, prevented this act of voluntary abasement,
insisted on his remaining mounted, and received the kiss upon his
sleeve. With a few words, which betrayed the bitterness of his
mortification and anguish, the Moslem prince surrendered the keys of
the city to Ferdinand. He gave them to Isabella, and she, in turn,
transferred these evidences of possession and sovereignty to the Count
of Tendilla, who had been appointed Governor of Granada. The latter,
with many nobles as escort and a garrison of five thousand men, without
delay entered and took possession of the Alhambra, and raised upon
the tower of Comares the gold and silver cross of the Archiepiscopate
of Toledo, the royal ensign, and the consecrated standard of Santiago.
The appearance of the sacred emblem and the familiar banners upon the
battlements of the Moorish citadel aroused the wildest enthusiasm
among the spectators. The priests of the royal chapel chanted the Te
Deum Laudamus. Thousands of gray and battle-scarred veterans fell upon
their knees and wept for joy. The heralds, in all the magnificence of
their striking costumes, made proclamation, by sound of trumpet, that
the authority of the Moslems had forever vanished from the Peninsula
in the words, “Castilla! Castilla! Granada! Granada! por los reyes
Don Fernando y Doña Isabel?” The stately Castilian nobles, in the
glittering panoply of war, one after another, then came forward, knelt
before Isabella, and kissed her hand in homage for her newly acquired
dignity as Queen of Granada.

Followed by the principal Moorish officials, some of whom, including
the vizier, were secret renegades and in the pay of Ferdinand, Boabdil
retired to his dominions in the Alpujarras. Even there he was not
destined to remain long in tranquillity. Subjected to ceaseless
espionage, his every word and action were reported to Hernando de
Zafra, secretary of the Catholic monarchs. Despite his apparent apathy,
his presence was considered a menace to the public peace, especially
when the discontent arising from open violations of the treaty began
to be manifested. Emissaries were sent to attempt the purchase of
his estates and to suggest the probable dangers of insurrection, as
contrasted with the advantages of voluntary exile. This failing of
success, a bolder plan was resolved upon. The false vizier, Ibn-Comixa,
was induced to assume an authority which he did not possess, to sell
to the Spanish Crown the possessions of the princes of the Moorish
dynasty of Granada, and to even stipulate, in detail, the time and
manner of their departure from Spain. The price this corrupt and
treacherous agent received for his services was never known. The
rights of Boabdil and his family thus were disposed of, without their
consent, for the paltry sum of twenty-one thousand doubloons of gold.
When apprised by his unblushing minister of the manner in which he had
been betrayed, he drew his sword, and Ibn-Comixa only saved his life by
instant flight. The unfortunate prince well knew who had suggested the
employment of this ignoble and perfidious artifice, and that it would
be dangerous, as well as useless, to attempt to repudiate a measure
which, dictated by cunning, would certainly be enforced by violence. He
therefore ratified the spurious contract, received in exchange for his
estates and all claims upon the crown nine millions of maravedis; and,
on the fourteenth of October, 1493, sailed with all his household for
Africa, where the Sultan of Fez had offered him an asylum. Thirty-four
years afterwards he fell in battle, fighting bravely in the service of
his benefactor against the savage mountaineers of the Atlas. His body,
never recovered, remained unburied in the Desert, under a strange sky,
far from the scene of his early triumphs, his misfortunes, and his
disgrace.

Thus ended the implacable contest waged by Christian and Moslem so long
and so desperately in the southwestern corner of Europe. To the heroic
queen of Ferdinand is to be attributed the success of the last campaign
of that portentous struggle. It was her administrative ability that
regulated the internal affairs of the kingdom, suppressed lawlessness,
established order, restored public confidence, developed the resources
and consolidated the strength of a powerful and warlike nation. Her
martial genius was ever with the army, whether encouraging it by her
presence on the march or collecting and transporting supplies over
mountain paths beset by bold and cunning enemies; ever animating the
living, ever aiding and consoling the relatives of the dead. She was
universally recognized as the head and front of the crusade; every
opinion was tacitly subordinated to her judgment; her advice was sought
in all important undertakings; her cheerful personality brought courage
and enthusiasm to the disheartened camp; her masculine spirit did not
shrink from participation in the exposure of a reconnoissance or from
the certain and omnipresent dangers of the field of battle. In the
closing scenes of the eventful drama hers was the prominent figure. On
the day of the capitulation, she alone carried the sceptre and wore the
crown, tacitly belying the motto, “Tanto Monta,” which admitted the
equality of Aragon; it was her hand which bestowed the keys of the city
and the authority of governor on her hereditary vassal, the Count of
Tendilla; it was “Castile” that the heralds proclaimed from the highest
battlements of the palace; it was not before the politic craft of
Ferdinand that the haughty aristocracy of the North bowed with profound
and graceful obeisance in acknowledgment of the sovereignty of a newly
conquered realm, but before the eminent talents, the earnest piety,
the affable but majestic and ever impressive dignity of Isabella the
Catholic, Queen of Castile and Granada.

END OF VOLUME II.

Transcriber’s Notes:

1. Obvious printers’, punctuation and spelling errors have been
corrected silently.

2. Where hyphenation is in doubt, it has been retained as in the
original.

3. Some hyphenated and non-hyphenated versions of the same words have
been retained as in the original.

4. Italics are shown as _xxx_.

*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "History of the Moorish Empire in Europe, Vol. 2 (of 3)" ***

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