Chapter XII: Reign of Abd-Al-Rahman III (3)

Seven ponderous gates, covered with scales of brass, gave access to the five different quarters, or wards, into which the city was divided, each of which was isolated from the rest by walls and towers, as a means of security against the turbulent populace, whose insubordination was proverbial and whose loyalty was uncertain even under the iron hand of the most powerful ruler. To one of these wards the Christians, to another the Jews, were restricted, and, from their precincts, after sunset, no individual could emerge without incurring the penalty of death. From every gate a broad and well-paved highway led to the frontier cities of the empire,--Malaga, Badajoz, Astorga, Talavera, Toledo, Saragossa, Merida. The alcazar of the khalifs, built upon the site of the palace of the Visigothic kings, was of great size and impregnable strength. It probably included one of the wards above referred to, and contained the citadel, the official residence of the principal dignitaries of the court, and the barracks of the royal body-guard, as well as the quarters of an innumerable retinue of dependents and slaves. Near it was the gate leading to the bridge over the Guadalquivir, the scene of more than one historical event which changed the fortunes of the reigning dynasty in eras of revolution and disaster. That bridge was one of the grandest works ever designed by Roman genius. It was twelve hundred feet in length by thirty in breadth, and stood ninety feet above the water. It was defended by nineteen turrets. Built during the reign of Augustus, and in good repair to-day, it has served the purposes of war and commerce for sixty generations.

The inexhaustible fertility of the soil of Andalusia yielded, in the greatest profusion, the most delicious products of every clime. The necessaries of life were to be procured for a trifle. Every description of food was offered for sale in the markets, and luscious fruits and vegetables, classed as expensive luxuries or unattainable in the capitals of Christian Europe, were enjoyed in Cordova by persons in the most moderate circumstances. The attire of the humblest citizen indicated an unusual degree of personal comfort; professional mendicancy, that curse of Oriental communities, was discouraged and practically unknown; the worthy sufferer found a ready welcome in the public hospital, while the impostor was scourged into unwonted activity by the officers of justice.

The suburbs of Cordova, exclusive of the royal residence of Medina-al-Zahrâ, which was superior to the others in extent and beauty, were twenty-one in number. They bore romantic names suggested by their charming situations, and the admiring homage they received from the people, such as “The Vale of Paradise,” “The Beautiful Valley,” “The Path of Roses,” “The Garden of Wonders.” While subject to the jurisdiction of the central municipal power, they, in other respects, presented the aspect of a series of independent communities, provided with every necessity and luxury required by a numerous and thriving population,--shops, baths, inns, warehouses, markets, and mosques. Two occupied the opposite bank of the river; the others encircled the Moorish capital with a girdle of dazzling white villas, interspersed with groves of palms rising amidst a wealth of tropical verdure. For miles in every direction were orange orchards, whose sweetness impregnated the air for many a league. Rivulets and fountains diffused through street and garden a delicious coolness. Blossoms of gaudy hue and overpowering fragrance grew in profusion along the avenues. The columns in the court-yards were entwined with roses. Along the stone causeways radiating in every direction from the city trooped caravans of plodding camels, laden with products of the art and industry of Europe, Africa, and Asia; or, riding swift Andalusian horses, sped the royal couriers with despatches for the governors of the distant states of the empire. The majestic bridge across the Guadalquivir was, from sunrise to sunset, crowded to its utmost capacity with traders, servants, soldiers, mounted cavaliers, and beasts of burden.

The pampered tastes of the khalifs found their utmost gratification in the comparative seclusion of the ten villas which the latter possessed in the environs of their capital. Here were provided means of sensual enjoyment that far eclipsed, in extent and elegance, the voluptuous attractions and wanton extravagance of Capri, Sybaris, and Antioch. These abodes of pleasure, contrived with all the skill of the Saracen architect, were surrounded by grounds that exhibited to perfection the peculiar and surprising effects of the horticulture of Asia. Airy galleries, sustained by columns of polished marble, were brilliant with the beautiful stuccoes of Damascus. The mural decoration, imitated from the textile fabrics of India, partook of all the richness of silk brocade interwoven with threads of gold. The sparkling mosaics of Constantinople, lavished in gay profusion upon arch and alcove, contributed their share towards the embellishment of these enchanting retreats. Curious lattices of alabaster admitted a subdued and uncertain light. Sentences from the works of famous poets--most of them of an irreverent and bacchanalian character--met the eye upon cornice, architrave, and capital. The basins, wherein dashed, with musical tinkle, the jets of countless fountains, were of massy silver. The furniture was of aloe, sandal-wood, ebony, and ivory, delicately carved and inlaid. Lovely female slaves of every nationality, accomplished in the arts of poetry and music, and educated under the supervision of famous instructors, ministered to the wants of the Commander of the Faithful, entertained his leisure with animated and intellectual discourse, or relieved his care with their endearments and with the charms of song. Vast numbers of white and black eunuchs--the former selected for their beauty, the latter prized for their lofty stature and transcendent ugliness--glided mysteriously through the shadowy apartments, or, armed with jewelled weapons, guarded the forbidden portals of the harem.

In the gardens, the fertile imagination of the Oriental artist rioted in its marvellous creations. The walks, paved with colored pebbles, formed arabesques of quaint and varied patterns. The hedges were fashioned into imitations of fortified walls, with battlement, tower, and barbican. From concealed sources, fountains cast at regular intervals their waters high into the air. Labyrinths, from whose intricate paths escape was impossible without a guide, beset the way of the incautious guest. The scene was diversified with lakes, upon whose crystal surface floated swans and other water-fowl of silver; by grottos, whose cool recesses were suggestive of luxurious repose; by arcades of glossy evergreen; by plants of variegated foliage whose tints, at a distance, resembled a surface of rich enamel; by enchanting vistas, where clumps of odoriferous shrubs and colored grasses, interspersed with beds of brilliant flowers arranged in sentences expressing wishes for the happiness of the monarch and the glorification of Allah, covered the landscape like a piece of tapestry, more gorgeous than the most exquisite creations of the weaver that ever issued from the looms of Persia or Flanders.

The oldest and one of the most famous of these villas was Rusafah, the favorite resort of Abd-al-Rahman I. It was not merely a place of relaxation and enjoyment, for in its garden was first attempted the scientific cultivation of the botanical treasures of the East. Ever devoted to the romantic traditions of his Syrian home, the exiled prince had named his palace after one possessed by his ancestors in the vicinity of Damascus.

The other suburban residences of the khalifs were each distinguished by some peculiarity of location, structure, or ornament. One was famous for its innumerable fountains. In another were exhibited, in their greatest variety and beauty, the charming effects of floral decoration. A third, from the magnificent view it afforded, was called “The Abode of the Fortunate.” A profusion of mosaics and enamels had acquired for the most ornate of all the significant and appropriate name of “The Palace of the Diadem.”

To the northwest of Cordova, at the base of the picturesque Sierra Morena, three miles from the city, yet connected with it by a succession of mansions and gardens, was the palace and suburb of Medina-al-Zahrâ. Its traditional origin partakes of the romance which so frequently embellishes the history of the Orient. It is related by the Moorish historians that a wealthy concubine of Abd-al-Rahman III., being on her death-bed and desirous that her last act should be the fulfilment of one of the noblest obligations of her religion, requested that the wealth she owed to the generosity of her royal lover be expended in the ransom of Moslem captives. Anxious to comply with this pious request, the Khalif sent messengers to the Christian states of the North, but, even with the diligent co-operation of their princes, who were his allies or tributaries, he was unable to find a single slave to be redeemed from bondage. Then, at the suggestion of another concubine, the favorite of his harem, whose name, Al-Zahrâ, in the poetic nomenclature of the Arabs means The Blossom, he determined to use the treasure in building a palace whose unparalleled splendor might form a fitting climax to the glories of his reign. A third of the public revenues, a sum which, without including those derived from the taxes of Jews and Christians and the fifth of the spoils of battle, amounted annually to more than two million pieces of gold, was also devoted to the work by the enthusiastic monarch. Ten thousand laborers and twenty-eight thousand beasts of burden were daily employed. The minuteness and prolixity with which are described the quantity of materials used and their value, the nationalities of the artisans and their remuneration, as detailed by the Arab chroniclers, are instructive though tedious, and impart an air of veracity to a narrative which would otherwise almost transcend belief. The plans were drawn by the most eminent architects of Constantinople. The walls, substantially built of stone, measured seventeen hundred by twenty-seven hundred cubits, and were provided with all the outworks and defences of a formidable castle. As was the case with the Great Mosque, the materials of the edifice were collected largely from foreign sources and were put together under the supervision of Byzantine artificers, aided by the most skilful native workmen. Its construction was supervised by the Khalif in person, who, in his devotion to the undertaking, having absented himself for three successive Fridays from the services of the Mosque, was publicly rebuked by the kadi for this flagrant neglect of duty.

The quarries of Numidia, Greece, and Andalusia contributed supplies of the finest marble and alabaster. Capitals of Roman origin were furnished by the ruined temples of Narbonne, Tarragona, Utica, and Carthage. The Byzantine emperor sent as a present to his ally a number of columns, whose beautiful tints of green and rose called forth the admiration of all who beheld them.

The palace was divided into three distinct sections. On the slope of the mountain rose the magnificent alcazar, within whose apartments were lodged the monarch and the members of his seraglio, composed of sixty-three hundred women, with their slaves and attendants. The number of the latter was, all told, seventeen thousand.

Lower down, towards the city, were the quarters of the body-guard, the eunuchs, and the pages of the court, for whose accommodation four hundred houses were required. Next in order came the gardens, filled with choice plants and delicious fruits, and diversified with artificial cascades and lakes abounding in goldfish. Within the precincts of this horticultural paradise were to be encountered every specimen of the extensive flora--both native and foreign--known to the accomplished botanists of Andalusia. Hedges of myrtle, box, and laurel, trimmed in fantastic designs, separated the broad and winding walks of rustic mosaic. Summer-houses and shady bowers invited to the siesta after exposure to the glare and heat of a semi-tropical sun. The prolific ingenuity of the hydraulic engineer had exhausted itself in the wonderful distribution of streams of water--in the varying play of a thousand fountains; in miniature rivulets, whose tiny channels were chiselled in the balustrades of marble staircases; in fairy grottos, over whose roofs of painted glass the spray from revolving jets shone with kaleidoscopic effect; in roaring cascades, from whose sombre depths were constantly visible the iridescent hues of the rainbow. Some of the fountains were masterpieces of the sculptor’s art. Two of them are mentioned as being especially remarkable. The larger was of gilded bronze with human figures elegantly carved in relief, and came from Constantinople. The basin of the other, of green marble, was of Syrian workmanship, and disposed about its rim were twelve grotesque representations of animals and birds, cast in gold, and glittering with jewels. From the mouths of these curious monsters jets of water were projected into the basin below.

Over the main portal of the edifice, carved in alabaster with consummate skill, stood the effigy of the lovely slave whose suggestion had evoked this palace of the genii, and from whom it had received its name.

The portion of the gorgeous edifice upon which the Moorish chronicler most delights to dwell was the central pavilion. Elevated on a terrace of white marble, in both its exterior and interior it afforded a dazzling example of the wealth of its owner and of the exquisite taste of its architect.

Circular in form, its dome was supported by columns of precious marble and rock-crystal, whose capitals were inlaid with pearls and rubies. The walls and dome were of translucent onyx; the roof of gold and silver tiles, placed in alternate rows. The spandrels and the inscriptions of the frieze exhibited the imperishable tints and jewelled play of Byzantine mosaic. Doors of odoriferous woods inlaid with ivory, ebony, and gold, enriched with gems of great value, gave access to this magnificent apartment. Under the centre of the dome stood a movable basin of porphyry filled with quicksilver. In some manner, probably by the use of mirrors, the rays of the sun could be concentrated upon the metal and the basin caused to rotate rapidly by hidden mechanism, casting blinding flashes of light in every direction; dazzling the beholders with the intolerable glare, and striking with amazement and terror the ambassadors of foreign powers, for whose benefit this ingenious contrivance, which would seem rather to belong to the stage than to the audience-chamber of a powerful monarch, was repeatedly exhibited.

The hall of this pavilion was the scene of many of the most imposing ceremonies and remarkable events in the history of the khalifate. Here, the heir to the crown was publicly acknowledged and invested with his dignity. Here, the princes of the blood, the magnates of the realm, the heads of departments, the governors of provinces, assembled after the death of the sovereign to swear allegiance to his successor. Here, also, the envoys of the monarchies of Europe and the East were granted an audience under circumstances far exceeding in splendor the boasted pomp of Constantinople, Aix-la-Chapelle, and Bagdad. Under this translucent and glittering dome were received the Kings of Leon and Navarre, suppliants for the favor and alliance of the hereditary enemy of their people and their faith. On these occasions was displayed all the ostentatious magnificence of which the most brilliant court in Europe was capable. The decorations of the audience-chamber--already unparalleled in richness--were heightened with silken carpets and hangings of cloth of silver. The Khalif, seated on a throne blazing with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, was surrounded by his family and his courtiers attired in their robes of state. About the pavilion and around the terrace was marshalled the royal guard, unrivalled in the elegance of its appointments by any similar body of soldiers in the world. The white robes of the eunuchs and slaves formed an appropriate background to the gorgeous picture, which imparted to the bewildered barbarians of the German forests and the Pyrenean mountains a startling impression of the civilization and resources of the detested infidel.

The mosque of Medina-al-Zahrâ corresponded in its general details with the palace, for the convenience of whose occupants it was erected. In some respects, it surpassed in the elegance of its ornamentation the great temple of the capital, after whose plan it was modelled. It contained five aisles; its gilding and mosaics exhibited the finished labors of the Asiatic artist; its sanctuary and pulpit were marvels of Oriental taste and skill. A minaret of polished stone, ten cubits square and forty in height and covered with arabesques in relief, surmounted the graceful edifice. The court was paved with wine-colored marble, and provided with a fountain elaborately carved and gilded.

From a royal villa, Medina-al-Zahrâ insensibly expanded into a miniature city. Around the palace clustered the luxurious dwellings of the courtiers, the merchants, and the officers of the army. The avenues were lined with trees, whose foliage formed a continuous arch. Not a house could be seen that was not embosomed in gardens abounding with gushing waters and rare exotics. Even the sides of the Sierra had been stripped of the sombre growth of evergreens which had originally covered them, and, planted with fig- and almond-trees, appeared in all the beauty of luxuriant foliage and fragrant blossoms. Not far away, extensive plantations of the sweetest of flowers gave to the locality the name of Gebal-al-Wardat, The Mountain of the Rose.

Three hundred baths, exclusive of those appropriated to the use of the imperial household, contributed to the health and the ceremonial purity of the inhabitants. The favorite residence of the khalifs, Medina-al-Zahrâ became the seat of the muses, the home of the arts, the centre of the intellectual society of the empire. Institutions of learning sprang up within its borders. The literary contests which constituted an unique and prominent feature of the Andalusian court were celebrated there in the presence of the monarch and the companions of his greatness and his leisure. Forty years were required for its construction, twenty-five under Abd-al-Rahman and fifteen under his son Al-Hakem. Its cost represents, at a modern valuation, the enormous sum of one hundred and fifty million dollars. Experienced travellers of every nation pronounced, without a dissenting voice, that the world did not possess, in point of picturesque situation, royal magnificence, and architectural beauty, a rival of the incomparable city and palace of Medina-al-Zahrâ.

It is difficult to conceive, from their present forlorn and deserted condition, of the aspect once presented by the environs of imperial Cordova. Independent of its populous suburbs, the commercial tributaries of the capital represented vast mercantile interests, and furnished support to multitudes of industrious artisans. Five thousand mills lined the banks of the rapid Guadalquivir. Encouraged by the profit derived from a regular and extensive trade with foreign nations, manufacturing establishments had sprung up in every city of importance. Each of these towns had its mosques and its imams, who, in addition to their ecclesiastical duties, discharged the functions of magistrates and reported regularly to the authorities of the capital.

In the patronage of letters, Abd-al-Rahman III. was in no respect inferior to any of his most liberal predecessors. He himself excelled in improvisation, that talent so highly prized by his countrymen. His fame and his munificence allured to the court of Cordova the most accomplished scholars from every region of the world. The capital abounded with colleges, academies, lyceums, and other educational foundations. The medical profession had attained to a high standard of excellence, and the Jewish surgeons of Cordova were universally recognized as unrivalled in the extent and variety of their knowledge. Many physicians held important employments under the government, deserved tributes to their skill; but such was their charity that the doors of even the most distinguished of them were always open to the poor, and their gratuitous ministrations at the service of the most humble sufferer. The sciences of astronomy and chemistry, based upon observations at Bagdad and experiments at Cairo and Damascus, had made an unprecedented advance. In the royal alcazar, in the palaces of princes, in the mansions of the rich, in the homes of the learned, the mind of the seeker after knowledge was daily exercised by the discussion of subjects of universal interest, by the prosecution of scientific inquiry, by lectures, by improvisations, by the spirited contests of poets for literary supremacy. In every calling and profession, in every position of life, the useful and the ornamental arts, the noble and elegant pursuits of literature were cultivated by both sexes with an ardor akin to enthusiasm.

The name of Abd-al-Rahman III., glorious in the annals of Moorish Spain, has not, however, escaped the condemnation of history. His great deeds; his triumphs in war and diplomacy; his skill in the reconciliation of adverse factions; his generous clemency; his encouragement of letters, may well be the subject of extravagant eulogy. But the sensual passions of his nature bordered upon insanity; and his character was defiled by that nameless and unnatural vice which, practised and even defended by one of the most famous of the Greek philosophers, has from the earliest times been the blemish and the reproach of Oriental civilization.

The infirmities of age and the irksomeness of satiety embittered the declining years of the Khalif. He virtually abandoned the administration of the empire to his heir, Al-Hakem. Renouncing the gay frivolities of the court, he attached himself to a fanatic named Abu-Ayub, whose ascetic manners and ostentatious poverty were received by the vulgar as evidences of extraordinary sanctity. In the society of this singular companion he passed much of his time in fasting, in prayer, in the distribution of alms. After his death, in a journal which recorded his most secret thoughts, were found the following significant reflections on the disappointments of life and the delusive attractions of human greatness and imperial ambition. “I have reigned fifty years in peace and in glory, beloved by my people, feared by my enemies, respected by my allies. My friendship has been sought by the great kings of the earth. I have wanted nothing that the heart of man could desire,--neither renown, nor power, nor pleasure. During this long life, I have counted the days when I have enjoyed complete happiness--and they amount to only fourteen! Praise be to Him who alone possesses eternal glory and omnipotence, there is no other God than He!”