Chapter II: The Time of Moslem Domination (2)

The Moslems strained every nerve to save the bulwark of their dominion in northern Spain. The emir Ahmed Mostain led a great confederate army, which numbered not only Almoravids but Christian auxiliaries in its ranks, into the field against Aragon. But Pedro’s victory at Alcoraz decided the fate of Huesca. In the very year (1096) in which western Christendom was making ready to drive the infidels out of Jerusalem, Huesca and all the country north of the Ebro fell into the hands of the Christians of Spain. Henceforward the fall of Saragossa could only be a question of time, a question which would have been decided earlier than it was if a civil war had not broken out between Alfonso I of Aragon (Alfonso VII of Leon) who succeeded Pedro in 1104, and his wife Queen Urraca of Castile.[o]

Before taking up the story of the war of Urraca and Alfonso, we may consider the exploits of the most famous warrior in Spanish history, the Cid, whose fame was so overgrown with romance that it became the fashion to deny that such a man ever existed in reality. But the critical historian who has robbed us of so many traditions has restored to us the Cid. His deeds are so typical of the period that they may claim some liberality of space, for in the words of H. E. Watts,[r] “The history of mediæval Spain without the Cid would be something more barren than the Iliad without Achilles.”[a]

BURKE’S ESTIMATE OF THE CID

[Sidenote: [_ca._ 1050-1099 A.D.]]

The three favourites of mediæval Spanish romance, says the Señor Lafuente,[cc] Bernardo del Carpio, Fernan Gonzalez, and the Cid, have this at least in common, that they were all at war with their lawful sovereigns, and fought their battles independently of the crown. Hence their popularity in Spain. The Castilians of the Middle Ages were so devoted to their independence, so proud of their _fueros_, such admirers of personal prowess, that they were disposed to welcome with national admiration those heroes who sprang from the people, who defied and were ill-treated by their kings.

The Cid is the only knight-errant that has survived the polished satire of Cervantes. For his fame was neither literary nor aristocratic; but like the early Spanish proverbs, in which it is said he took so great a delight, it was embedded deep in the hearts of the people. And although the memory of his religious indifference may not have added to his popularity in the sixteenth century in Spain, it is a part of his character which must be taken into account in gauging the public opinion of earlier days. From the close of the eighth century to the close of the fifteenth, the Spanish people, Castilians and Aragonese, were if anything less bigoted than the rest of Europe. The influence of their neighbours the Moors, and of their Arab toleration could not be without its effect upon a people naturally free, independent, and self-reliant; and the Cid, who was certainly troubled with no religious scruples in the course of his varied career, and who, according to a popular legend affronted and threatened the pope on his throne in St. Peter’s, on account of some fancied slight, could never have been the hero of a nation of bigots.

To judge the Cid, even as we now know him, according to any code of modern ethics, is supremely unreasonable. To be sure that, even now, we know him as he was is supremely presumptuous. But that Ruy Diaz was a great man, and a great leader of men, a knight who would have shocked modern poets, and a free lance who would have laughed at modern heroes, we can have no manner of doubt. That he satisfied his contemporaries and himself; that he slew Moors and Christians as occasion required, with equal vigour and absolute impartiality; that he bearded the king of Leon in his Christian council, and that he cozened the king of Saragossa at the head of his Moslem army; that he rode the best horse and brandished the best blade in Spain; that his armies never wanted for valiant soldiers, nor his coffers for goldpieces; that he lived “my lord the challenger,” the terror of every foe, and that he died rich and respected in the noble city that had fallen to his knightly spear--of all this at least we are certain; and, if the tale is displeasing to our nineteenth century refinement, we must be content to believe that it satisfied the aspirations of mediæval Spain.[g]

THE HISTORICAL CID

[Sidenote: [_ca._ 1050-1065 A.D.]]

The real existence of the Cid and the most important events in his life have been proved by a sufficient, although not by a large number of documents, which, being amplified by Middle Age chroniclers, have formed the basis of later tradition. It is more or less in this traditionary form that the Cid appears, in Spanish history.

Mariana[i] related the chief events of his life as popular tradition has collected them from history and fable, and contented himself with adding, “Some persons hold a large part of this account to be fabulous; I also relate many more statements than I believe, because I do not dare to pass over in silence what others assert, nor would I like to assert as certain that which I doubt for reasons which compel me to do so and which others have stated.”

Prudencio de Sandoval[u] questioned many single items and declared whole episodes to be unhistorical. He was followed by Ferreras.[v] When finally, in 1792, the Augustine Manuel Risco,[w] supported by the _Gesta Roderici Campidocti_ which he had discovered, tried to rescue some part of the old traditions, the Jesuit, Juan Francisco de Masdeu, doubted not only the genuineness of this document but the very existence of the Cid. The English historian Dunham[h] was even more firmly sceptical. Robert Southey,[x] who published an English translation of the _Chronicle of the Cid_, tried hard to steer between history and story and rescue as much as possible of the latter.

Victor Aimé Huber[y] has the credit of being the first to distinguish between the historical and mythical elements with great critical ability. The material used by Huber was not materially enriched until the Dutch orientalist R. Dozy[z] discovered in the library at Gotha, in 1844, an Arabic account of the Cid and his most celebrated deed of arms, the conquest of Valencia. This was found in the third volume of a history of literature (_Zakira_) written by the Moorish author Ibn Bassam,[aa] in the year 503 of the Hegira, according to his statement (1109 A.D.), that is, only ten years after the death of the Cid. It is thus the oldest, the only really contemporary account of the celebrated Spanish hero that we possess, and is of great historical value even though written by an enemy. The Dutch scholar was not satisfied merely to publish the text with a French translation, but also enumerated the known sources in order to distinguish between the historical and the more or less legendary traits of the same and to get as historically accurate a picture as possible of the Cid. At the same time he put entirely too much confidence in the Arabic account, placing himself in fact on the side of the Moors. Hence in order to get a correct idea of the Cid’s character one should not follow Dozy blindly, but should rather consider as to how far the Arab historian deserves credence on his own account.

(From an old engraving of an alleged portrait)]

The date of the Cid’s birth is not known. However, it cannot be far from the middle of the eleventh century, certainly not more than ten to twenty years before the battle on the Carrion river (1037), in which Ferdinand I of Castile conquered the allied kings of Leon and Navarre, and Bermudo III, king of Leon, met his death. With this king, who left no descendants, the Visigothic dynasty came to an end, that dynasty which since Pelayo for three hundred years had carried on the struggles of Christian Spain against the superior force of the Moors, under the most variable circumstances, but ever with increasing success. The birth, as well as the youth and first warlike deeds of Rodrigo Diaz de Bivar, later called the Cid,[26] fall in that brilliant period when the kingdom of Spain first acquired a greater power by the union of Castile and Leon and attained a certain moral supremacy over Moorish Spain. In a battle led by the eldest son of the king Sancho, against Sancho of Navarre, the Cid conquered a knight of Navarre in single combat and thus received the surname Campeador, _i.e._, “Challenger.” With the death of Ferdinand I, however (1065), the scarcely established union fell asunder. In his will he divided his kingdom among his five children.

[Sidenote: [1065-1085 A.D.]]

Scarcely three years after his father’s death Sancho was in open fight with his brother Alfonso at Llantado and won a temporary, though not a decisive victory. On this occasion Rodrigo de Bivar was promoted to be “banner-bearer,” _i.e._, “chief commander” of Sancho’s troops. The brothers kept the peace for only three years. Eventually Sancho was assassinated. Since there was no suitable pretendant to the throne, the crown of Castile was finally offered to Alfonso, but only on condition that he take a solemn oath to the effect that he was not a party to Sancho’s death. Rodrigo Diaz de Bivar and eleven other knights administered this oath. The king at the same time was seized with a violent dislike towards the Campeador. Policy, however, advised him not to indulge this for the present, but to try to attach this powerful and influential Castilian to himself by showing him favour. He even gave him his cousin Ximena in marriage (the 19th of July, 1074).

Alfonso sent him to the court of Mutamid, the king of Seville, to collect the tribute due him. At the very time of his arrival Mutamid was threatened by an attack from Abdallah, king of Granada, in whose army were several Christian nobles, among them Count Garcia Ordoñez, a prince of royal blood. The Campeador attacked them with his own people, and the Sevillians defeated them and took Garcia Ordoñez and other Castilian knights captive, although he freed them again after three days. That was enough for his enemies, especially Garcia Ordoñez, to malign him before Alfonso, after his return, saying that he kept a part of their presents for himself. The earlier dislike of the king was revived, and when Rodrigo, in 1081, on his own initiative and without permission undertook an attack on the Moors, the king seized the occasion to banish him. Thus the hero, with whose help the king might have been able to break completely the power of the Moors, was banished from Christian Spain and compelled to lead the life of a warrior chieftain or _condottiere_ and even to seek service with the Moors themselves.

Just at this time (October, 1081) the emir Muktadir of Saragossa died, leaving two sons, one of whom, Mutamin, received Saragossa, the other, Mondzir, had Denia, Tortosa, and Lerida. They at once began to dispute each other’s possessions. Mondzir allied himself with King Sancho Ramirez of Aragon and Count Berengar of Barcelona. Mutamin won over the Campeador to his cause and found him his surest support. Rodrigo conducted expeditions of incredible boldness and became the terror of the princes allied against Mutamin. The latter besieged the fortress Almenara in overwhelming numbers and reduced it to such straits that Rodrigo himself advised treating for peace, in order to save the garrison, but when Mutamin insisted on holding out he repulsed the enemy in spite of superior force and even took the count of Barcelona captive. His entry into Saragossa was like a triumph, and the emir loaded him with honours and presents. Nevertheless the valiant Castilian would not be bound. As soon as an opportunity offered he tried again to approach King Alfonso. Not until the latter, in his pride and anger, had again repulsed him, did he continue to use his talents of generalship and his personal bravery in the service of Mutamin. He ravaged a large part of Aragon in an expedition lasting five days, and his attacks were executed so swiftly that his followers were usually up and away before the alarm could even be sounded for a repulse. He next attacked Mondzir’s possessions and plundered large tracts of territory with the same rapidity. When Sancho of Aragon came to assist his ally, Rodrigo defeated his troops, took sixteen nobles and two thousand soldiers captive and returned again to Saragossa with enormous booty. After Mutamin’s death (1085) he continued to serve his son Mostain; but no details have been preserved of his further warlike deeds until 1088. In that year he concluded a contract with Mostain, the object of which was the conquest of Valencia.

[Sidenote: [1085-1094 A.D.]]

In the complicated intrigues for the ownership of the city, the Campeador would seem, according to the account of Dozy,[z] at first to have played a double, not to say a many-sided part. He made a secret compact with Mostain, promising to help him get the city but reserving all booty for himself; but when Kadir made him rich presents he excused himself to Mostain by saying that an attack on Valencia could not be made without declaring war on Alfonso, and Mostain himself hesitated before such a step. At the same time he sent word to King Alfonso that he still regarded himself as his vassal and that all his expeditions were carried out only for the purpose of weakening the power of the Moors and of supporting an army at their expense, which would later bring the whole land into subjection to the king. So the latter let him keep his troops, with which he occasionally undertook his favourite raids of conquest and plunder. When reproached for them he declared that he did it only to earn his living. In 1089 he went to Castile to have a personal interview with the king. The latter received him graciously, gave him several castles and drew up a document, deeding all the fortresses and lands he should conquer from the Moors to him and his heirs forever. Thereupon the Cid returned to the neighbourhood of Valencia to join his army, which numbered seven thousand picked men.

But the Cid had another mischance with Alfonso. When the latter asked him to take part in an expedition against the castle of Aledo, near Larca, the Cid, through no fault of his own, arrived too late, and the king, although he suffered no injury thereby, allowed himself to be influenced by spiteful insinuations, deprived the brave warrior of his favour, took away the document he had given him the year before, confiscated all his estates, and imprisoned his wife and children. All attempts of the offended Cid to prove his innocence were repulsed; the only concession which the king made was to give back his wife and children. Again was the Cid obliged to fight his own way as an independent leader, with his own means, and to support his army by plunder. His bravery and ability met with unusual success. Kadir of Valencia paid him annually 120,000 dinares, the lord of Alborracin 10,000, the one of Alpuente the same, the lords of Murviedro and of Segorbe 6,000 each, of Jerica 4,000, of Almenara 3,000. The most important deed of arms in the next period was a brilliant victory over Berengar of Barcelona, who had attacked him unexpectedly but was defeated and himself taken captive with five thousand soldiers. The Cid demanded a high ransom, but set the prisoners free before it could all be paid.

[Sidenote: [1094-1101 A.D.]]

For the sake of Alfonso he broke off the siege of Liria, which had been progressing favourably, but an interview with the suspicious monarch led only to new discord. The latter felt offended on account of a mere trifle and wanted to take the Cid prisoner. When he escaped, the king, in revenge, himself undertook an expedition against Valencia, which to a certain extent was already in the power of the Cid. Rodrigo was deeply offended; with the speed of lightning he hurled himself on the counties of Najera and Calahorra, whose governor was his most implacable and powerful enemy, Count Garcia Ordoñez, the most important man next to the king. He committed such depredations with fire and sword in his provinces that Alfonso was obliged to abandon the siege of Valencia to protect his own land from Rodrigo’s plundering raids. This tragic self-destruction of Spanish force was fortunately brought to an end again by the dissension and strife among the Moors. While thus the inhabitants, split up into various parties, were fighting among themselves, some expecting help from one quarter, others from another, the Cid by a sudden attack surrounded the city, cut off all provisions and forced it to surrender on June 15th, 1094, because of most terrible famine. He was at first very lenient towards the conquered, promised them a just administration, and warned his own people to be merciful. Roderigo made Ibn Jahhaf draw up an inventory of all his possessions and swear that he had concealed nothing. Ibn Jahhaf took the oath and declared himself ready to die if anyone found anything not on the list. The oath was a false one. The deceit was soon discovered and then the Cid acted with all the severity of the times. He caused the treacherous and perfidious royal murderer to be burned (May or June, 1095), and with him a number of his friends and associates; he also wanted to condemn his wife and children to death by burning, but the Christians intervened and obtained their pardon.

Hated as Ibn Jahhaf had been before, he now became a martyr in the eyes of the Moors. Consequently in their accounts the Cid is charged with perfidy and cruelty. Now for the first time was the Cid fully and completely master of this rich and powerful city, the conquest of which was in some respects more important than that of Toledo by Alfonso. In the eyes of the Castilians it was a deed having few parallels, the highest and best which their much-feared warrior-hero achieved in a life so rich in battles. Olocau and Serra, two fortified places of great strategic importance, now fell into his hands and he thought with all seriousness of driving the Moors out of the whole of remaining Spain. An Arab of that time claims to have heard him say: “A Rodrigo lost this peninsula; another Rodrigo will win it back.” The Moors themselves saw these thoughts threateningly embodied in him, and Christian kings had to sue for his friendship.

In 1094 he allied himself with King Pedro of Aragon in order to force the power of the Almoravids further toward the south. At Beira, near Candia, where a Moorish fleet could support the attack of the land army, the Christians were hard pressed; only the heroism, personal bravery and tact of the Cid revived their sinking confidence and led them to victory, so that the superior force of the enemy was completely defeated and an immeasurable booty fell into their hands. After a short rest in Valencia he marched against Murviedro. Finally on St. John’s day, June 24th, 1098, he entered the city, celebrated the new victory with a _Te Deum_, and commanded the laying of the foundation for a St. John’s church in commemoration of the event. That he did not pursue selfish ends may be gathered from the testimony of the Mohammedans themselves, who state that his real end was to drive them out of Spain. But for the continuous struggle he carried on for this purpose, especially for the tedious sieges, he had to furnish his own means entirely. Even when disease and weakness did not permit him to carry a sword himself, he did not give up his great plan. But his followers were not so successful as he. They met with Ibn Aisha’s army, which had just won a brilliant victory at Cuenca over Alvar Fañez who commanded the royal army of Castile. Even the brave warriors of the Cid, who felt the need of their old leader, succumbed to the victorious might of the Moslems, and only a few of them returned to Valencia.

According to the Arab accounts the Cid died in 1099 from rage and grief at this defeat. For two years after the death of the unconquered warrior his widow Ximena succeeded in holding the city against the repeated attacks of the Almoravids. But in October, 1101, having decided to abandon it, the Christians set it afire in order to spoil the Mohammedan joy of victory. Mazdali and his army found only smoking ruins when they entered on May 5th, 1102. The body of the Cid was brought by his faithful wife herself and buried in the cloister of San Pedro de Cardeña at Burgos, where she had numberless masses said for the deceased. She outlived him only five years and was likewise buried at Burgos. His son [?] Diego Rodriguez fell in the battle of Consuegra. Of his two daughters one, Christina, married the infante Ramiro of Navarre, the other, Elvira, Raymond IV (Raymond Berengar III) of Barcelona. Through her the Cid became the ancestor of the later royal dynasty of Spain.

One hundred and thirty-six years passed before Valencia was reconquered for Christian Spain by James I of Aragon after a difficult and tedious siege (1238). The heroic life of the Cid, however, did not remain unfruitful during this interval.[bb]

CHRISTIAN SPAIN IN THE TWELFTH CENTURY

[Sidenote: [1102-1118 A.D.]]

The war between Alfonso of Aragon and his wife Queen Urraca of Castile lasted many years and was accompanied by conspiracies and partisan warfare among the nobles, by scandals in the royal palace, by the papal annulment of the marriage, by plunder of the treasures of the church, by the spoliation and impoverishment of the people. Even the queen’s death in 1126 did not immediately put an end to the war, for the two Alfonsos (her husband, and the son of her first marriage, Alfonso Raymond) now turned their arms against each other. Finally the clergy negotiated a peace. The two kingdoms were separated, a compromise being effected with regard to the disputed districts. Castile with Leon and Galicia formed the territory of Alfonso VII (or VIII,[27] since his stepfather is also counted amongst the Castilian kings); Aragon and Navarre were left to king Alfonso I (1126).

The Aragonese now once more turned his arms against the Moslem; the proud name of Batallador, “the fighter,” which his compatriots bestowed on him, may serve as evidence of the strength and energy with which he pushed on the struggle. [He also assumed the title of emperor.] It has been mentioned that by the conquest of Huesca, his predecessor Pedro had confirmed and consolidated the kingdom of Aragon. Ten years after his death, Tudela on the Ebro was won, and formed an important base for further conquest; but it was only when Alfonso, supported by the knights from the southern kingdom, had conquered the Saracens in several sharp encounters and finally, after a siege of seven months, had compelled the surrender of the city of Saragossa, 1118, the bulwark of the Arab rule in the northeast, that the kingdom of Aragon was able to proceed with its political development. Saragossa, so long the seat of a Mohammedan emir, became Alfonso’s capital. The principal mosque served henceforth for the worship of the Saviour. The knights and nobles who had stood bravely by the side of the king, as well as the soldiers who had gathered to his banner from beyond the Pyrenees, were richly rewarded.

[Sidenote: [1118-1150 A.D.]]

The Moslems were deeply affected by the loss of Saragossa, the result of their own want of unity; that they might not be entirely driven from the territory of the Ebro they nerved themselves to a general resistance. There was a series of sanguinary conflicts on the Segre and Ebro, and then under their brave commander Yahya ben Gania they won by stratagem the battle of Fraga, July, 1134, with which Alfonso ended his heroic life. His efforts had undermined his strength, and grief at this severe defeat did the rest. He sank on a bed of sickness from which he never rose again.[28]

The existence of the kingdom was endangered by his death. As he was childless he had designated the Christian orders of the knights of the Holy Sepulchre, who had taken the most active share in the struggles against the Saracens and who possessed lands and castles in all parts of the peninsula, as his heirs. But this disposition was not carried into effect.

In the “royal city” of Jaca, the Aragonese elected a brother of the dead man for their king. This was Ramiro II (1134-1137), who had lived in a cloister from his youth; and thus the warrior was replaced by a monk. On the other hand the Navarrese raised to the throne Garcia IV, a scion of their old princely house, and declared their independence of Aragon. Indeed, the priest-king was a feeble substitute for “the fighter”; still he secured the continued existence of Aragon. Immediately after his accession Ramiro espoused Inez, sister of the duke of Aquitaine and Poitou; she bore him a daughter, Petronilla, who at the age of two years was betrothed, on the advice of the grandees, to Raymond Berengar IV [or V] of Barcelona, or Catalonia, and when Ramiro soon after returned to the cloister the count received the regency of Aragon till the age of the bride should make the nuptials possible. The result of this marriage was the lasting union of Aragon and Catalonia[29] under Alfonso II, the son of Raymond and Petronilla.[o]

Want of space forbids us to give the details of the history of Raymond Berengar’s dominions. The district had been conquered by the Moslems in the eighth century, but part of it was recovered for Christianity by the Franks and formed into a province under the name of the Spanish Mark. The various counts soon asserted their independence, and those of Barcelona increasing in power and importance gradually absorbed the dominions of the rest and became masters of the whole of Catalonia.[a]

FOUNDATION OF THE SPANISH ORDERS OF KNIGHTHOOD

[Sidenote: [1082-1162 A.D.]]

Raymond sought to fulfil the testamentary dispositions of Alfonso by founding a special order of knighthood, modelled on the pattern of the Temple, “for the defence of the Western church and to oppose the Moors in Spain,” and he bestowed on it large possessions with castles and revenues. As a special Aragonese branch of the order of the Temple, it was under the grand-master of Jerusalem. The large profits which the brethren of the order might hope to derive from the spoils of the Arabs in case of a victory were a powerful incentive to enterprises and expeditions of conquest.

Before this, Raymond IV, Raymond’s father, a valiant warrior in the service of Christ, had himself joined the order of the Temple and had granted it extensive lands and rights. With the help of these, and supported by the Catalan knighthood and the Pisans, he had fought against the infidel with courage and success, and in a hotly contested struggle had taken from them many towns and citadels. He had also extended his territory in the north of the Pyrenees and had acquired the countship of Carcassonne, Besalu, Cerdagne, etc. Raymond V was not only the heir to these possessions which he united to Aragon; he continued the war of conquest against the Saracens, now single-handed, now in alliance with his brother-in-law, Alfonso VII (VIII) of Castile, who, like his predecessor, assumed the title of “emperor of Spain” and claimed the suzerainty over the other Christian kingdoms.

The Christians soon again succeeded in winning the upper hand of the Moslems. It was not only that religious enthusiasm, the chivalrous fighting spirit of the time and the prospect of knightly lands and spoil continually attracted fresh combatants to the standard; but dissensions and disorganisations amongst the disciples of Mohammed facilitated the progress of their arms. One party of the Moors called in the aid of the Castilian king. Alfonso VII did not hesitate to profit by the disorder amongst the Mohammedans. While the Portuguese king conquered Lisbon with the help of the crusaders, the Castilian “emperor,” in conjunction with Raymond of Barcelona, Count William of Montpellier, and the Christian chivalry of all the Spanish kingdoms, marched to the coast towns of Almeria, the headquarters of the Mohammedan pirates, invested it on the land side whilst the fleet of the Genoese and Pisans blockaded the harbour, and after a long siege compelled it to surrender. The garrison were put to the sword, and incalculable spoil was carried off. Raymond Berengar fought with like success against the Moslems on the Ebro, where, again supported by the Genoese and Pisans, he took the important city of Tortosa, and then added the whole territory on the river to his kingdom (1148).

Alfonso VII lived to see the hardly won town of Almeria again wrested from Castile. On his return from a military expedition he died in the pass of Muradal, a prince endowed with strength, intelligence, and the love of justice, full of zeal for the Christian faith and generous to churches and cloisters. With him the series of “emperors of Spain” comes to an end (1157).

With the death of Alfonso VII of Castile, and that of Raymond of Aragon and Catalonia, which followed five years later, the Christian kingdoms of the Spanish peninsula again entered on evil times. Whilst the Mohammedan world, united and strengthened under the rule of the Almohades, acquired fresh power in the south and southeast, and won back much of its ancient possessions, in the north the vigour of the attack and resistance was broken by divisions and civil contentions.

Although the kingdom of Aragon and Catalonia passed undivided to the young King Alfonso II, and his suzerainty extended over a great part of Languedoc and the country of Provence which was governed by a relative of the royal family, on the other hand, under the sons and successors of Alfonso VII the Castilian kingdom was dismembered; for Leon with Galicia and Asturias, and Navarre with the Basque provinces seceded from it and started an independent political existence under their own princes, without paying any further attention to the feudal superiority of Castile. The results of these partitions were intestine disputes and family quarrels which stood the Moslem in good stead.

[Sidenote: [1157-1197 A.D.]]

The divisions and weakness of Spanish Christendom would have gained a still greater ascendency, had not the clergy admonished the knighthood to the struggle against the infidels as a religious duty and kept alive their zeal for the faith. They encouraged the formation of the Spanish orders of knighthood to which the preservation of the Christian kingdoms and the final overthrow of the Mohammedans was principally owing. Besides the order of Calatrava which Raymond, abbot of the monastery of St. Mary at Fitero, founded in 1158 on the model of the Templars and according to the Cistercian rule, another brotherhood of the faith had come into existence in the year 1156. This was subsequently called the order of Alcantara, after its chief fortress. In Galicia the priesthood enrolled a number of warlike robber knights in the order of St. James of Compostella (1175), for the protection of the church of the tomb of St. James (St. Iago) in that city, and laid on them as their most sacred duty the obligation of escorting pilgrims thither.

It was principally the courage and religious enthusiasm of these armed brotherhoods that prevented the Moslem from again bearing the banner of Islam across the Ebro and Douro in the second half of the twelfth century, when Castile was distracted by internal strife, due to the enmity and jealousy of the two princely houses of Lara and Castro, when the Christian kings of the various states turned their arms against each other, when in Catalonia the confusion mounted to such a height that two archbishops of Tarragona were murdered and Portugal and Leon lay under ban and interdict on account of a marriage between near relatives, and anarchy and the right of the strong hand ruled unchecked.

Since the days of the great Almansor no prince had warred against Christian Spain with so much success as the Almohad, Abdul-Mumin, “the commander of the faithful.” But when, against the advice of his officers, he risked a battle at Santarem, he suffered a defeat in which he lost his life. But his son Yakub Almansor, a prince whose virtues and great qualities were not inferior to those of his contemporary Saladin, soon avenged his father’s death. The Third Crusade increased fanaticism even in the Pyrenean peninsula. Undisciplined hosts of pilgrims landed in the west and south, marking their path by robbery and devastation, and Christian and Saracen were spurred to fresh encounters. Roused by a devastating raid of the archbishop of Toledo against Seville, and by a written challenge of the Castilian king Alfonso “the noble,” Yakub Almansor took the field with his whole army. The Christian host, especially the numerous knights of the fraternities, both those of the country and foreign Templars and knights of St. John, opposed him at Alarcon and suffered a complete defeat (1195). The flower of the Christian chivalry were left on the battle-field. Almost all New Castile, as far as the fortress of Toledo, fell into the hands of the infidels; the mountains and citadels of Guadarrama and the want of provisions alone prevented the Moslems from again penetrating to the mountain districts of Asturia. Moreover the Castilians were at war with the Leonese and it was not until the marriage of Berengaria, the daughter of the Castilian king, with the king of Leon that a reconciliation was effected (1197). But, for this, king and kingdom were laid under an interdict, because the marriage was against the church’s law on account of the relationship of the parties, until Berengaria agreed to a divorce and returned to Castile. Her children, however, were considered as legitimate. At the same time Sancho of Navarre concluded an alliance with the Moorish party of the Almohads, in the hope of obtaining the supremacy over the Christian kingdoms by their assistance.

[Sidenote: [1197-1212 A.D.]]

Under these circumstances it seemed as though the Spanish Christians must succumb. Fortunately for them, Yakub Almansor died four years after the battle of Alarcon. It was not till the new emir Muhammed al-Nasir had succeeded in mastering his enemies, after several bloody battles, that he again undertook a “holy war” against the Christians. But in the meantime the northern kingdoms had revived and the zealous efforts of pope and clergy had succeeded in temporarily adjusting intestine feuds.

OVERTHROW OF THE MOSLEMS

Consequently when, after an interval of fourteen years, Muhammed renewed the struggle and took the field with vast hosts from Africa and Andalusia, he met with a powerful resistance (1211). It was not merely that the whole Spanish chivalry, headed by the members of the orders of every description, thronged to the standards of the kings of Aragon and Castile; many _ultramontanes_ from the provinces of southern France and other districts were to be found there, who, fired by itinerant preachers, had travelled across the Pyrenees to earn a heavenly reward and earthly possessions as soldiers of God. By an ordinance of the pope, the assistance of heaven had been invoked throughout Christendom by fasts and processions. The religious excitement which at that time had gained possession of all minds, furthered the enterprise. Never before had such great hosts of warriors encountered one another in the peninsula.

In numbers, orders, and military discipline the Moslems were superior to the Christians; like the crusaders in the Holy Land, the Christian warriors in Spain, especially the free companies who had flocked thither from abroad, sullied the cause of faith by savage crimes and robbery and persecutions of the Jews in and about Toledo; and when the Saracens, having wasted their best strength during eight months before the mountain fortresses of Salvatierra, saw themselves compelled to agree to deliver up to the king of Castile the beleaguered city of Calatrava with the treasures collected there, in return for a free passage, the majority of the ultramontanes withdrew in anger, because the Spanish princes would not allow the retreating enemy to be waylaid in defiance of the promise given. Fanaticism had hardened their hearts and stifled the sentiments of honour and humanity. But in spite of the defection of the foreign soldiers, the Spanish Christians won a glorious victory in the battle of Las Navas de Tolosa, in the Sierra Morena, when the rule of the Africans in Spain received its death-blow (1212), as described in the history of the Arabs. More than a hundred thousand corpses, amongst them that of Muhammed’s first-born, strewed the battle-field, and for long after the 16th of July was celebrated in Toledo by a great thanksgiving festival, called “the triumph of the cross.” The spoil was enormous, but the brilliant victory was stained by cruelty and rapine at the capture of the surrounding cities.[o]

FOOTNOTES

[19] [Compare what the Arab historian Al Lagi[j] said of Alfonso the Catholic: “The terrible Alfonso, the manslayer, son of the sword, killed tens of thousands of Moslems. He burned houses and dwellings, and no treaty could be made with him.” Christian historians equal this. The archbishop Rodrigo[c] draws a worse view of the desolation of Spain than even Isidore[d]: “Children are dashed on the ground, young men beheaded; their fathers fall in battle; the old men massacred, the women reserved for greater misfortune.” He tells us that “every cathedral in Spain was burned or destroyed”; that “the national substance, etc., was plundered, except what the bishops could save in the Asturias”; that “the cities which were too strong to be stormed immediately, were deluded into a surrender”; that “oaths and treaties were uniformly broken by the Arabs,” etc. Both he and Isidore may exaggerate, but the exaggeration only proves the fact.]

[20] The monk of Albelda[e] calls Pelayo the son of Bermudo, and nephew of king Roderic. His origin is wrapped in much obscurity. [Burke[g] says “Pelayo, no doubt, was but a robber chieftain, a petty mountain prince, and the legends of his royal descent are of later date and of obviously spurious manufacture; but Pelayo needs no tinsel to adorn his crown. He was the founder of the Spanish monarchy. The Arabs called him ‘Belay.’”]

[21] Mariana[i] says, that Alfonso inherited in virtue of Pelayo’s will. This is one of the assertions so common in this writer, without the shadow of a foundation. Equally unfounded is the assertion that he inherited in right of his wife, Hermesinda, though that circumstance would doubtless have some weight with the electors. His best claim was, that “_in tempore Egicani et Witizani regum, princeps militiæ fuit_,” according to Sebastian.[f]

[22] [“Dunham,[h] quoting Sebastian of Salamanca,[f] _omnes Arabes occupatores civitatum interficiens_, says placidly, ‘Such an extermination of the Mohammedan inhabitants to make room for his Christian colonists was a just retribution on the heads of the followers of a sanguinary faith.’ A strange nineteenth century Christian gloss! If such things can be written in 1832, it is hardly surprising that the retributive justice practised in the mountains should have been somewhat one-sided in 750.”--BURKE.[g]]

[23] [Isaiah lvii, 1-2. In a note upon this Dunham[h] says, “Not a single historian of Spain, from Bishop Sebastian[f] to Masdeu[l] and Ortiz,[m] has ventured to express his disbelief in this miracle.”]

[24] _Ipsi Agareni herbam attulerunt, et crassitudinem ejus abstulerunt à ventre ejus, et ad pristinam levitatis astutiam reductus_, etc.--SAMPIRO.[n] It is a pity the Mohammedan doctors did not leave the prescription behind them.

[25] [Previously to this he waged “the war of the Three Sanchos,” so called from the fact that he, Sancho of Castile, attacked his cousin Sancho of Navarre, who called in the aid of Sancho of Aragon; and together the latter Sanchos defeated the Castilian, in 1068.]

[26] [It is a curious fact that this warrior is known to the Spaniards by his Arab name of _Cid_ or _Saïd_, that is, lord or leader, while to the Arabs he is known by his Spanish name of _Campeador_ or “Challenger.”]

[27] [Burke[g] explains the inconsistent enumerations of the kings of this period as follows:

The curious confusion arising from a twofold or threefold system of numeration of the Alfonsos of Castile and Leon in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries seems to call for some special notice. Dunham[h], Romey[s] and other foreign historians and chronologists, among whom the count de Mas-Latrie[t] must ever be spoken of with the greatest respect, call Alfonso _el Batallador_, of Aragon, Alfonso VII of Leon and Castile, as in right of his wife Urraca; and thus call Alfonso _el Imperador_ number VIII; and keep Alfonso III of Castile out of the Leonese or _Junto_ numeration altogether. Thus and in other ways confusion has been introduced, and by imperfect explanation still worse confounded.

The following, it is to be hoped, is plain:

Alfonso VI of Leon was the first of the name to reign in Castile; and, as in the course of the next hundred and fifty years the two kingdoms were sometimes under the same king, though not formally united, and sometimes each with a king of its own, the plan has been generally adopted by modern Spanish writers of numbering the Alfonsos of Leon and of Castile consecutively, without regard to the kingdoms over which they reigned, taking no account of the Alfonsos of Aragon. Thus Alfonso _el Sabio_ was Alfonso IV of Castile, and Alfonso IX of Leon, but Alfonso X of the consecutive Alfonsos, by which title he is always known. And it is by this numeration that the late king of Spain was Alfonso XII, and his present majesty is Alfonso XIII.]

[28] [His ambitious assumption of the title of “emperor of Spain” was scarcely justified by his uncertain conquests from the Almoravids and was made ridiculous by his failure to subdue his Christian neighbours in Leon and Castile.[g]]

[29] [Burke[g] says, “The union of Catalonia with Aragon by the marriage of Queen Petronilla with Raymond Berengar of Barcelona in 1150, was the foundation of the greatness of Spain.”]