Internally the reign of Al-Hakem was no less troubled. Scarcely was the rebellion of his uncles repressed, when the tyranny of Yusuf ben Amru occasioned great disorders in Toledo. In 805, the inhabitants openly rose against the governor, whom they confined in prison. Al-Hakem invited the principal inhabitants—chiefly Mohammedans—to wait on the heir of the monarchy; but as they entered the palace, they were seized by his soldiers, were carried into a subterraneous apartment, and massacred. [More than seven hundred are said to have perished on this “day of the fosse” (807).] About the same time a conspiracy was formed in Cordova itself, the object of which was to assassinate Al-Hakem, and to raise a grandson of the first Abd ar-Rahman to the vacant throne. The fatal secret was revealed to the monarch’s ear. The very day on which this tragedy was to be perpetrated, three hundred gory heads were exhibited in the most public part of Cordova. Had his own been there, instead of them, no public sorrow would have been manifested.
[815-835 A.D.]
This incident was not likely to assuage his appetite for blood—an appetite which is believed to have been innate in his temperament, though education and circumstances had hitherto suspended its cravings. Commensurate with its increasing intensity was his passion for luxury. He no longer delighted in reaping “the iron harvests of the field.” Shut up in his palace with his female slaves, amidst the sweetest sounds of vocal and instrumental music, or witnessing the lascivious dance, he passed the whole of his time. If, however, his person was thus hidden from the eyes of his people, his existence was but too evident from the execution of his sanguinary mandates. That he might enjoy the pleasures without the cares of royalty, in the year 815 he caused his son Abd ar-Rahman to receive the homage of his chiefs as the wali alhadi, or successor to the throne, and on the shoulders of that prince he thenceforth laid the whole weight of government. But tyrants often tremble, as well as their oppressed subjects. To escape assassination, or the consequences of an open insurrection, he filled or surrounded his palace with a chosen guard of five thousand men, whose fidelity he secured by permanent liberal pay. To meet this extraordinary increase of expenditure, he laid an entrance duty on the merchandise which arrived in the capital. This measure excited indignation, not so much because it was oppressive as because it was novel; murmurs arose on every side, and even an open insurrection appeared certain. To crush it by terror, he ordered ten men who had refused to pay the duty to be publicly executed.
A trivial accident, however, acting like a spark on the present inflammable spirit of the people, produced a general explosion; the guards of the ten prisoners were massacred; a few who wisely fled were pursued to the very gates of the palace, the multitude uttering terrific menaces against the author and advisers of so odious a novelty. The desire of vengeance roused the king from his unworthy lethargy. Seizing his arms, and followed by the cavalry of his guard, he charged the mob, which, as mobs always will do, endeavoured to escape when real danger approached. In a few minutes the streets of Cordova were strewn with dead bodies; such as could reach their habitations were safe; about three hundred were overtaken on the banks of the river, and were instantly impaled. But the effects did not end here; the numerous streets outside the walls of the city were levelled with the ground, and the surviving inhabitants were pardoned only on the condition of leaving Cordova forever. With loud lamentations, the unhappy exiles departed from the scene of their former happiness; a considerable number settled in Toledo; eight thousand accepted the asylum offered them by Edris ben Edris in his new city of Fez, and the quarter where they settled is at this day called the Andalusian quarter. The fate of the far greater portion was more singular; fifteen thousand proceeded to Egypt, seized on Alexandria, and there maintained themselves in spite of all opposition, until the wali, by the caliph’s permission, purchased their departure by a large sum of money, and by allowing them to reside on one of the isles of Greece. They chose Crete, and founded an independent government [which lasted till 961 when the Greeks recaptured it]. From this moment Al-Hakem, who acquired the surname of the Cruel, was torn by incessant remorse. In 821 he breathed his last.
A Saracen Chief
Abd ar-Rahman II had long made himself beloved, both in a private capacity and as the deputy of his father; happiness was as much hoped from his reign, and as much was it alloyed by many misfortunes. The first was the hostile arrival of his great uncle, Abdallah, son of Abd ar-Rahman I, who, though on the verge of the tomb, resolved to strike another blow for empire. He was speedily defeated. A salutary law was now passed, defining the right of succession to be inherent in the children of the natural monarch, according to their primogeniture; and, where the direct heirs subsisted, excluding the other branches of the family.
In his transactions with the Christians of the Asturias and Catalonia, Abd ar-Rahman was more fortunate than his two predecessors. He did not allow either Alfonso or Ramiro to gain much advantage over him. Three armies of Franks successively appeared in Spain, but effected nothing; while a Mohammedan fleet burned the suburbs of Marseilles. Nor was the kingdom of Abd ar-Rahman free from internal troubles. Merida twice revolted; Toledo followed the example, and sustained a blockade of nine years against the royal forces.
[835-886 A.D.]
Scarcely were these domestic wounds closed, when a new and unexpected enemy appeared on the coast of Lusitania. The Scandinavian vikings, in fifty-four vessels, had spread terror along the maritime districts of France and the peninsula. These savage northmen landed wherever there was a prospect of booty; plundered towns and churches; consumed with fire everything which they could not remove; and put to the sword all, of every age and of either sex, who had the misfortune to fall in their way. In short, from the terrific descriptions given of them both in the Icelandic sagas and the Christian writers of the south, we should suppose them to have been demons rather than men. Thirteen days they assailed Lisbon, and that place would have fallen but for the seasonable march of the neighbouring walis to relieve it. The pirates re-embarked with their booty; landed on the coasts of Lusitania and Algarve, which they ravaged; and ultimately destroyed a great part of Seville. Such was their reputation for valour, that their retreat was seldom molested. To rebuild the ruined walls was the immediate work of the king, and to be prepared for resistance, in the event of future piratical descents, he established a line of forts from the principal seaports to his capital, with facilities for communicating rapidly with one another. To add to these internal calamities, a drought of two years withered the productions of the earth; or if anything was spared by the heat, it was devoured by clouds of locusts.
These sufferings of his people must sensibly have afflicted the heart of Abd ar-Rahman; and he endeavoured to relieve them by importing corn from Africa, and by furnishing the unemployed with occupation. The works which he constructed in that city were of equal magnificence and utility. Mosques were erected; the streets paved; marble baths made for the convenience of the men; and, the most important of all his enterprises, water in abundance was brought from the mountains to the city by means of leaden pipes. Abd ar-Rahman was a man of letters as well as a man of science. In 850 he caused his son Muhammed to be acknowledged wali alhadi. In 852 he died, universally lamented by his people.
The reign of Muhammed I contains little to strike the attention. He was always at war, either with the Asturians or his own subjects. Ramiro, Ordoño, and Alfonso III successively defeated his best troops, and gradually enlarged their dominions. He was ultimately more successful in his contests with his subjects than with his natural enemies. Of the difficulty, however, with which this success was obtained, Musa ben Zeyad, the wali of Saragossa, and Omar, a bandit chief, afford us abundant proof. Omar escaped into the Pyrenees, and offered his services to the Navarrese; gained them many fortresses, and received from them the title of king. He conquered the whole country as far as the Ebro. The king in person, with his son Al-Mundhir, and his best officers, hastened to the field. Omar was defeated and slain. But the rebels were not yet annihilated. Kalib ben Omar, who with the title inherited the warlike spirit of his father, was destined to greater things, and laid waste or rendered tributary the country on the banks of the Ebro. Al-Mundhir advanced to measure arms with the son of his old enemy; but a whole year elapsed before he could gain any advantage over Kalib. If to these agitating scenes we add a drought of a year’s duration, the third which had visited Spain within the short period of twenty years; an earthquake which swallowed several towns, and another invasion of the Normans, some idea may be formed of the disasters of this reign.