[886-939 A.D.]
The death of Muhammed was sudden. No sooner did Kalib ben Omar hear of Muhammed’s death than he descended from his mountains, was joined by thousands of partisans, and was successful beyond his most sanguine hopes. Huesca, Saragossa, and Toledo opened their gates to him. The whole kingdom was in consternation or in joy, according to the loyalty or disaffection of the people. It is certain that the new king, Al-Mundhir, had not many friends, and those few he soon lost. In the second year of his reign he fell in battle with the formidable Kalib.
The reign of Abdallah, the brother and successor of Al-Mundhir, was destined to be as troubled as any of his predecessors. One of the first revolts was headed by his eldest son Muhammed. He was joined by his brother Al-Kasim; but he was defeated by his younger brother Abd ar-Rahman, was severely wounded in battle, and was consigned to a dungeon by the victor, until the king’s pleasure could be known. There he died, whether in consequence of his wounds, or by violence, is uncertain. But the greatest affliction of the king was the continued triumph of the rebel Kalib.
On the death of Abdallah, the throne of Mohammedan Spain was filled by Abd ar-Rahman III, son of the rebel prince Muhammed, who had so mysteriously died in prison, and, therefore, grandson of Abdallah. Why the deceased king did not procure the elevation of his own son Abd ar-Rahman, surnamed Al-Mudafar, or the Victorious, surprised many, but grieved none. By universal acclamation the new king was hailed as Emir al-muminin, or prince of the believers, and An-Nasir lidini-l-lahi, defender of the faith of God. It is difficult to account for the yielding of this spiritual homage to the young prince; but the fact is certain that he was the first of his family to assume the title and honours of caliph.
After labouring with success to pacify the partisans of the Abbasids, who at first regarded his assumption of the spiritual character as little less than blasphemous, Abd ar-Rahman resolved to exterminate the audacious rebels who had so long distracted the kingdom. The son of Omar ben Hafs still reigned at Toledo over nearly one-half of Mohammedan Spain. To contend with this formidable adventurer, Abd ar-Rahman assembled a select military force of forty thousand men, and took the field. In the end victory declared for the king; seven thousand of the rebel and three thousand of the royal forces were left on the field. The consequences of this success were important; the whole of eastern Spain submitted to Abd ar-Rahman. Kalib himself long held out against the power of Abd ar-Rahman.
The pacification of his kingdom allowed Abd ar-Rahman leisure to dream of ambition, which opportunity seasonably aided. He came into conflict with the ruler of Egypt, over Fez, which he finally cleared of the Egyptians. But the most memorable of the warlike exploits of this king were against the Christians of Leon and the Asturias. Soon after the accession of Abd ar-Rahman, Ordoño II invaded the Mohammedan possessions, and, if any faith is to be had in the chroniclers of his nation, he obtained many advantages—advantages, however, of which not the slightest mention is made by the Mohammedan writers. In short, from the accession of Ordoño to some time after that of Ramiro II, not one of the successes derived by the Christians is acknowledged by the Moors.
[939-961 A.D.]
From the conflicting statements of the two hostile writers, it appears certain that in 934 Ramiro II made an irruption into the states of Abd ar-Rahman, and ruined Madrid, and that the king of Cordova, in revenge, sent Almudafar to invade Galicia. That hero, say the historians of his nation, made terrible reprisals on the subjects of Ramiro, thousands of whom he brought away captive, with an immense booty, and defeated Ramiro himself on the banks of the Duero. The Christians, on the other hand, tell us that their hero triumphed over the misbelievers on the plains of Osma (which is on the banks of that river), of whom he slew a great number, and made many thousands of captives. Abd ar-Rahman advanced to meet him with eighty thousand men. The combat [of Alhandega] which ensued was the most obstinate, and beyond comparison the most bloody, that had been fought between Christians and Moors since the days of Roderic. There can be no doubt that victory shone on the banners of the Christians, notwithstanding the assertion of the Mohammedan writers, who say that Ramiro was driven from the field. But that the success was so splendid as the Christians pretend, that eighty thousand of the Moors fell on this memorable day, is too monstrous to be believed. According to the Arabian writers, that number only—yet it is surely large enough—left Zamora, twenty thousand out of the original one hundred thousand remaining to invest that fortress. And if their account is to be credited—and the minute circumstances attending it give it all the air of truth—Abd ar-Rahman took the fortress on his return to Cordova.
During the rest of don Ramiro’s reign one battle only is said by the Christians to have been fought between the Moors and him, in which he was of course victorious. But if the Mohammedans are to be believed, that hero was defeated in 941 by Abdallah, wali of the frontier; and again in 949 by Abd ar-Rahman in person.
In his internal administration Abd ar-Rahman was distinguished for great capacity of mind, for unbounded liberality, for unrivalled magnificence, and for inflexible justice. The foundation of the palace and town of Medina-Azhara, about two leagues from Cordova—the former distinguished for all the splendour of art and wealth, the latter for a mosque which rivalled that of Cordova—attested his taste and luxury. The roof of the palace is said to have been supported by above four thousand pillars of variegated marble, the floors and walls to have been of the same costly material, the chief apartments to have been adorned with exquisite fountains and baths; and the whole to have been surrounded by the most magnificent gardens, in the midst of which arose a pavilion resting on pillars of white marble ornamented with gold, and commanding an extensive prospect. In the centre of the pavilion, a fountain of quicksilver, we are told, constantly played, reflecting in a new and wondrous manner the rays of the sun. The whole description reminds us rather of the creations of genii than of the labours of man. Of the justice of this great king the Mohammedan world had a fearful example in the fate of his son Abdallah. Many years before his death he caused his second son, Al-Hakem, to be recognised as wali alhadi. The choice gave umbrage to Abdallah, who at length entered into a conspiracy, the object of which seems to have been the assassination or perpetual imprisonment of Al-Hakem. The secret was betrayed by one of the number; Abdallah was suddenly arrested, confessed his meditated crime, and was suffocated, notwithstanding the entreaties of his intended victim Al-Hakem. “Thy humane request,” replied the king, “becomes thee well, and if I were a private individual it should be granted; but as a king, I owe both to my people and my successors an example of justice; I deeply lament the fate of my son; I shall lament it through life; but neither thy tears nor my grief shall save him!” The king seems ever afterwards to have blamed his excessive rigour. Though at the very summit of human prosperity, he was thenceforth unhappy. Accordingly, we need not be surprised to hear his own confession that during near fifty years of empire, his days of happiness amounted to no more than fourteen.