THE POETRY
OF'THE ARABS OF SPAIN.
Being the substance of a Lecture read in the small Chapel of the University
of the City of New York, on the evening of March 28th, 1867,
G. J. ADLER, A. M.,
Late Professor of German to the University; Member of several Learned Societies.
NEW YORK:
PRESS OF WYNKOOP  & HALLENBECK,
No. 113 FULTON STREET, N. Y.
18 6 7.








THE POETRY
OF
THE ARABS OF SPAIN.




BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
1. OLLENDORFF'S NEW METHOD OF LEARNING THE GERMAN, with
an Outline of the Grammar of the Language. By G. J. ADLER, Professor
of German in the University of the City of New York. 1 vol. 12mo.
D. Appleton & Co., New York, 1845.
2. A PROGRESSIVE GERMAN READER, adapted to Adler's Outline of German Grammar. By the same. 1 vol 12mo. New York, 1846.
3. GERMAN-ENGLISH  AND  ENGLISH-GERMAN  DICTIONARY, compiled from the most recent authorities. By the same. 1 vol. royal
8vo. 1400 pages. New York, 1848.
4. An abridgment of the same, prepared with reference to students of the language. By the same. 1 vol. 12mo., 844 pages. New York, 1850.
5. HAND-BOOK OF GERMAN LITERATURE. Selections from the Drama,
with chronologically arranged specimens of German Prose. By the
same. 1 vol. 12mo. New York, 1854.
6. GOETHE'S IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS, translated from the German. By
the same. 1 vol. 12mo. New York, 1850.
7. A PRACTICAL LATIN GRAMMAR, upon the plan of Ollendorff's New
Methods. By the same. 1 vol. 12mo., 710 pages. Sanborn, Carter,
Bazin & Co., Boston, 1858.
8. FAURIEL'S HISTORY OF PROVENCAL POETRY, translated from the
French, with an Introduction on the Literature of the History. By the
same. 1 vol. 8vo. Derby & Jackson, New York, 1860.
9. NOTES ON THE AGAMEMNON OF XESCHYLUS (a fragment). By the
same. Chambersburg, 1860.
10. WILHELM  VON  HUMBOLDT'S LINGUISTICAL STUDIES. By the
same. (In pamphlet.) New York, 1866.
11. GOETHE'S FAUST (Parts 1st and 2d). Text and translation, with Introductions on the Faust Literature, and ample notes, in two vols. By
the same. (In preparation.)
PROFESSOR ADLER attends to a few private students or classes in the
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please address him to box 1600, N. Y. City P. O., or to the care of his publishers,
D. Appleton & Co., 445 Broadway.




THE POETRY
OF
THE ARABS OF SPAIN.
Being the substance of a Lecture read in the small Chapel of the University
of the City of New York, on the evening of March 2Sth, 1867,
BY
G. J. ADLER, A. M.,
Late Professor of German to the University; Member of several Learned Societies.
NEW YORK:
PRESS  OF WYNKOOP  & HALLENBECK,
No. 113 FULTON STREET, N. Y.
1867.




ENTERED according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867,
By G. J. ADLER,
In the Clerk's Office of the United States District Court for the Southern
District of New York.




TO THlE READER.
TitE civilization of the Moslems of Spain has for the
last quarter of a century been one of the most attractive
themes of learned inquiry, and Science, History, LiteraA
ture and Art have each been eager after new results)
some of which Romnance among us has sought to invest
with the Riirbus of its charms.  Of late years their political history and that of their polite literature have
more especially been favored with valuable contributionsI
partly in the shape of translations, partly in original
works, from the pens of sctactnam  like Gayangos, de Slane,
Dozy, Hammler-Purgstall, von Schack and others, and we
have now an abundance of new light on matters heretofore known to but few or in the dim outlines of vague
uncertainty.  Leaving entirely aside the question of political history, except so far as it is interwoven with that
of letters, I have endeavored, in the following pages, to
give a brief survey of the immense field of the poetry of
the Arabs of Spain,-ma theme long familiar to us as one
of fascinating romance, but known to us rather in gene,
ralities than in living specimens sufficient to give us a
more or less adequate conception of its real character,
From this sketch I could not very well exclude a sums
mary recapitulation of the antecedents of this poetryfrom its first crude tentatives of the desert to the date of
the establishment of the Caliphate of the West; and these
antecedents are fraught with so much interest, that it is
hoped the reader will excuse it, if the porch should strike




vi
him  as not in strict harmony with the proportions of the
edifice.  For the benefit of further inquiry, I subjoin
here also a list of the authorities upon which the little
work is based, and in which  the  student of Literary
History will find nearly all of any account that thus far
has been introduced to us.
1. Literaturgeschichte der Araber von ihrem Beginne bis zu Ende
des zwalften Jahrhunderts der Hidschret, von Hammer-Purgstall. 1 vols. 8vo. Wien, 1850-1856.
2. Poesie und Kunst der Araber in Spanien und Sicilien, von A.
F. von Schack, 2 vols. 12mo. Berlin, 1865.
3. Recherches sur PiHistoire et la Litterature de l'Espagne pendant
le Moyen Age, par R. Dozy. 2 vols. 8vo. Leyde, 1860,
4. Histoire des Musulmans d'Espagne jusqu'B la conquete de la
Andalousie par les Almoravides, par It. Dozy. 4 vols. 8vo.
Leyde, 1861.
5, Analectes sur l'Histoire et la Litterature des Arabes d'Espagne,
publi6s par MM. Dozy, Dugal, Krehl et Wright. Leyde, 1861.
6. History of the Mohammedan Dynasties of Spain. From  the
text of Ahmed Muhammed al Makkari. Translated by Pascual
de Gayangos. 2 vols. 4to. London, 1840.
7. Ibn Challikan's Biographical Dictionary, translated from the
Arabic by Baron Mac Guckin de Slane. 3 vols. 4to. Paris,
1843-45.
8. Prolegonlmnes Historiques d'Ibn Chaldun, traduits de l'arabe
par M, G. de Slane. 2 vols. 4to. Paris, 1862-65,
9. iistoire des Berberes et des Dynasties Musulmans d'Ibn Chaldull (arabe), par M. le baron de Slane. 2 vols. Algiers, 1847.
10. Journal Asiatique.  Paris,  1830-1865.
I have in conclusion to express my acknowledgments
to a number of friends, at whose request and. under whose
auspices my manuscript appears in type.
New York, August, 1867.
G. J. ADLER.




TEHE POETRY OF 1IHE ARABS OF SPAIN.
-..   -*-* -  -
THE earliest poetical tentatives of the Arabs were improvisations, short epigrammatic pieces produced by the inspiration
of the moment, and this appears to have been the only way in
which the poetic talent of the nation displayed itself till toward
the commencement of the sixth century of our era, near
which time the art of writing was also introduced among
them.
About that epoch, however, their genius in this direction
developed itself with astonishing rapidity, and with such surprising success, that all the most celebrated masterpieces of
the pre-islamitic period, and those that passed for classical at
all times, were produced during the interval between the year
500 A. D. and the hegira (A. D. 622), i. e. within the space of
less than a century and a quarter. It is true, that the different
tribes quarrelled with one another about the priority of their
distinguished names, but we have the decision of one of their
own authorities to the effect that they all of them belonged to
about the same epoch, and that the oldest of them could not
have preceded the flight of the Prophet much more than a century.
The extent to which during this century poetry and the poets
were held in esteem by the inhabitants of the Peninsula we
may infer from the fact that the different tribes linked public
exhibitions and recitations to the annual gatherings of their
fairs-a ceremony for which the little palm-shaded town of
Okadz, about three days' journey from AMecca, became more
especially distinguished. The fair here was on the most sumptuous and extensive scale, and attended by crowds from every
section of the country. It was held about the beginning of the
three sacred months during which by an ancient custom every
sort of warfare, bloodshed and revenge were religiously prohibited, and where the visitors were required to silence every
hate. It was here that, in solemn public contest, the poets,
who were most commonly also warriors, recited their verses, in




8
which they generally undertook to celebrate either their own
achievements, the renown of their ancestors, or the glory of
their respective tribes. The poems which won the prize on this
occasion, was recorded on byssus in letters of gold, and then
suspended from the walls of the Kaaba, the most ancient sanctuary of the sons of Ishmael, at Mecca. So runs at least an
old tradition, which, although recently contested, has nevertheless considerable evidence in its favor. The seven great poems
which constitute  the  body  of the Muallakat (ii e. "the
suspended"), were thus honored with the prize, and are at this
day yet inviting our examination.  In contradistinction to
all the previous more primitive attempts of the sort, these
poems no longer consist of but a few brief' verses; they are comPosiiions of more considerable dimensions, constructed with
more artistic rhythm  and rounded off into a more or less consistent whole. It is true, they are not pervaded by one domihant idea; they consist mostly of a series of emotions and
descriptions rather loosely strung together; but amid all this
disregard for strict unity of design, they yet exhibit at least a
tendency to a definite aim, and in point of technical execution
every part of them is constructed upon the same metre and
with the same rhyme, the latter here extending itself to the
middle as well as to the end of the verse (beit), which the Arabs
invariably divided into two equal parts or hemistichs (misra),
All these seven poems of the Muallakat belong to what the
Arabs call the kassfda-a name applied to every regular poetic
composition of from twenty to one hundred lines. In other
Xespects this may then be either of the narrative or descriptive,
the panegyric or satirical, the elegiac, the martial, or the amatory kind.
Now Okadz did not long remain the only place at whichfetcs
of the sort were instituted. As the love of poesy struck deeper
root among the people, the mnfacharas or public poetic recitations
also became more general, and there was many an occasion on
which the different tribes vied with each other in their attempts
to produce the best poet, and to celebrate the victor with joyous
demonstrations of every sort. The tribe even was congratulated
for having produced a herald of its exploits to perpetuate its
name among posterity. In a word, poetry now became one of
the most vital elements of national existence, and that not only
in the tents of the various chiefs or at the courts of the petty
kings, but among all the members of the shiftless nomadic
groups, which, as they roamed over the dreary waste of their
unmeasured deserts, made the welkin ring with songs commem



9
orating heroic courage, fidelity and love. The poet enjoyed
a sort of patriarchal respect, wherever he went. He was not
unfrequently constituted umpire for the adjustment of differences, and every one strove to win his favor or to avoid his
displeasure,
Much of the poetry of this early pagan period presents a
curious and striking contrast, or rather incongruity, of substance
and of form. For, while on the one hand we encounter the
most unlicensed passions of' a barbaric age, and an almost
unmitigated thirst for murder and revenge, we on the other,
find all this invertetl with a subtilty of speech and a refined
elegance of expression, as if the poem had been composed for
no other object than that of illustrating a chapter of grammar
or of rhetoric I Surprising as it may seem, the Arabs of the
desert were most indefatigable and even critical students of
their language, of which they not only made themselves grammaticallv masters, but were no less fastidious about the choice
of words, the faultlessness of their rhymes and other points
esteemed essential to excellence and purity of style. This was
a study, to which they applied themselves from early youth,
and which the poets kept up with unceasing vigilance as long
as they composed. Let the following serve as an instance of
perhaps extreme nicety on this point:-It once happened that
two poets, Amrulkais and Alkama, engaged in a discussion
with each other about th ir art, and entertained each other
with the rehearsal of some of their own pieces. There being
no umpire present, they agreed to make one of the wife of
Amrulkais, and she was to decide which of the two deserved
the precedence. The contest had no sooner commenced, than
each one did his utmost to excel his rival, until the moment at
last arrived to award the prize. The fair judge declared herself
in favor of Alkama, on the ground that he had furnished the
most successful description of the horse. The decision wounded
her husband's poetic honor so much, that he at once insisted on
divorce, and the affair ended by her getting married to his rival.
(Caussin de Perceval, vol. i., p. 314, 345.)
The pre-islamitic poetry of the Arabs, as far as it has come
{town to us, is preserved mainly in the four collections of the
Muallakat, the Hamasa, the Divan of the Hudseilites (a tribe
long at war with the Koreishites), and the Great Book of' Songs
(Kitab el aghaai). Let us now briefly survey the leading points
to be considered first in regard to the Muallakat and then concerning the remaining collections of this period.
In glancing at the different kassidas of the Muallakat, we are
at once struck with the observation, that none of them transcend




10
the limits of a certain circle of ideas, and that this circle is itself
a somewhat circumscribed one. The cause of this is obvious
enough. The Arab had neither a mythology nor epic traditions, like the Oriental or the Greek, and in his attempt to make
poetry was restricted either to the expression of his personal emotions or to the delineation of the circunmstances of life and nature
by which he was surrounded. And here even he limited himself
to mere descriptions; for he remained a stranger to the drama,
as well as to the epos, and that not only at this early period, but
at every epoch of his history. We need not therefore be surprised to meet with the almost incessant recurrence of the same
objects in nearly every one of these compositions, as for example,
the perils of a march through the desert, a collision with some
hostile tribe, the description of a horse. camel or gazelle, of a
thunderstorm or hurricane, the celebration of the charms of the
poet's lady-love or of the excellence of his arms, and the like.
Of all this we encounter more or less in every one of the kassidas of the Muallakat, and yet we cannot accuse them either of
monotony or of a want of interest. The keen observation of
the Arab considers these few objects fr'om a thousand different
points of view, and his prolific invention invests them with a
bold novelty, a variety and freshness, which never fail to touch
the imagination and the heart.
The names linked to the seven kassidas of the Mauallakat
are Shanfara, Antar, Tarafa, Ibn Kultum, Tuhair, Amrulkais, and Lebid. Of the lives of these poets we know but
very little, and it is not of much moment that we should.
Let it suffice for our purpose to give in outline a specimen or
two of their poetry. The kassida of Shanfara delineates with
masterly touches the hero of the desert in all his native,
although savage, grandeur. At variance with all the world, he
at the hour ot' midnight moves out into the desert, where he
then hails the fierce panther and the shaggy hyaena as his
friends. Stretched out upon the hard and sun-seared ground,
with no other companion but his trusty bow, his flashing
sword and his own dauntless heart, he takes his sole delight in
solitude, which offers the hero refuge against the envy and jealousy of his rivals. In many a cold night he has fearlessly advanced through the howling storm  and darkness, attended by
hunger and by every thing calculated to inspire terror. He has
made many a woman a widow and many a child an orphan.
But he has met with nothing but ingratitude froni the brethren
of his tribe; it is this which has produced his present aversion
to men, and he now bids welcome to the monsters of the desert,




11
which never betray a friend or carelessly blab out his secrets.
He is resolved henceforth to live among the slender-bodied
wolves which plunge through the ravines with the rapidity of
the wind. He chooses them, because they are brave and defiant
like himself!-The kassida of Lebid, the last of these ancient
poets, is a no less curious little genre-sketch of the life of the
old Arabs. He boasts of himself as always on the alert for the
defense of his tribe from his watch-post on the hill-top, whence
he may observe every movement of the enemy, and whence
their standards even are enveloped by the clouds of dust arising
from his horse's hoofs., At his tent the traveller always finds
shelter against the chills of the morning, when the reins of
the winds are in the hands of the icy North. No poor woman,
impelled by hunger to seek his protection, has ever been refused
the comforts of his frugal home. The poet then gives us an
earnest lesson on the inconstancy of all things here below, and
on the evanescence of our own brief span of life. We pass away,
while the stars rising on the sky remain permanent,and the mountains and palaces surpass us in duration. No mortal can escape
from the allotments of his Fate, and when hishourstrikes, he falls.
It is with men as it is with camps and those that occupy them;
if the latter move away the former remain desolate. Man is
but a flash of lightning or a flame, and is reduced to ashes the
moment the light expires.-Lebid was the last of the seven
authors of the Muallakat, and lived long enough to have
an interview with the Prophet, which is curious enough to deserve at least a passing notice. Mohammed's preaching had
already produced a great sensation, and while many were yet
doubting and even deriding his pretensions, there were many
others who were no less anxious to ascertain the truth. Among
the latter were the members of Lebid's tribe, and they knew no
better way to satisfy themselves than that of commissioning the
old poet to inquire in their behalf. The latter went and found
the Prophet in the act of haranguing an assembly in a most eloquent discourse, in which he happened to repeat a portion of
the second sura. The passage, which is an extremely forcible
one, produced so powerful an effect on our poet, that he declared
his muallaka surpassed, and resolved to renounce his art for ever,
to embrace Islam in its stead.
We must not allow this incident, however, to mislead us in
respect to the influence of the Koran on the subsequent development of Arabic poetry; for this influence was rather a general than a special one, and on that account remained much
more limited than we might be inclined to suspect. Lebid's




12
poetical successors were doubtless all of them Moslems without
reproach, schooled in their sacred book from early youth and
ready to defend their faith on every occasion, even with the
sword, but we nevertheless find them at all times looking up to
their predecessors of the olden time as the great masters of
their art, whom they considered it possible only to rival but
never to surpass, as in respect to the language also they considered the desert with its old poets the only school from which
to learn, and on that account often left distant courts and provinces to study among the Beduins of the cradle of their faith.
The remaining callections of the pagan period, that is to
say, the Hamasa, the Divan of the Hudseilites and others, offer
us a much larger number of pieces, mostly, however, of smaller
dimensions, but of much more varied contents than the kassidas.
We have here strung together side by side poetical effusionis of
every class, heroic songs, lays of the martial and the amatory
kind (ghasels), dirges and satires, sportive and convivial songs.
Many of these pieces evince no small degree of lyrical elevation;
they offer us a multitude of striking similes, a surprising versatility of construction and a certain bold abruptness of style. Nevtheless, the Arab here likewise neither did nor could transcend
the horizon of his circumscribed ideas, and the subjects and sentiments of all these compositions never pass beyond the limited
circle of his particular mode of life. Demonstrations of indignation at the wounded honor of his tribe, invectives against an
enemy, expressions of sorrow and menaces of revenge over the
murder of a relative or friend, exultation over feats of prowess
amid some perilous encounter, exhortations to courage, with
now and then an apophthegln or sage maxim of life, and occasionally also sentiments of a liumaner sort, such as regretful
sighs addressed to a distant love whose image does not cease to
visit him in his dreams,-such are most commonly the themes
which inspire the poet of this period, and on which he
expends all the ingenuity and art of which his genius was capable.
The introduction of Islam produced a complete revolution in the intellectual condition of the Arab and gave his
-entire life and character not only a new direction, but an elevation and expansion for which we can scarcely find a parallel in
history. While in his primitive condition his ideas were determined wholly by the impulse of the moment and the circumstances by which he found himself surrounded, the unrivalled,eloquence of the Prophet suddenly broke down the limits of time




13
and space by pointing the dazzled hearer on the one hand to the
seven heavens above with the felicity of the Blessed, and on
the other to the unfathomed pool below, ready to engulf the
unbeliever in its flames. He was introduced to Allah, the only
One and the Supreme, the terror of the perverse and the
munificent rewarder of the observers of his law. The delights
of the Paradise, more especially held out to the believer, were
of the most enchanting and transcendent kind, and operated
with the influence of magic on the naturally material motives
of the Arab's mind. The Koran was therefore no sooner fairly
introduced among the different tribes than it at once became
the foundation of their entire culture, and so powerful was
the inspiration of its doctrines, that they were ready not
only to defend them as a divine revelation but even to
enforce their recognition with the point of the lance in every
portion of the world. Islam thus became synonymous with
conquest, and the stern Beduin of the desert in an almost incredibly short time made himself the military suzerain of immense
territories, the builder of castles, palaces and cities without
number, the founder of dynasties, and the possessor of all the
luxuries and refined material enjoyments that can convert life
into an almost literal realization of his dreams of Paradise. It
was thus that within a century of the hegira (A. D. 622-722)
the empire of the caliphs won an expansion, such as none,
either before or after, ever could boast of in history, extending
at times towards the East as far as the confines of China, and
in the West not only over the whole of the north of Africa
and over Spain, but sometimes even beyond the Pyrenees as
far as the Garonne.  The first seat of the new government
was Medina, where Mohammed died in A. D. 633, and where
his successor ruled until C60. In that year Damascus became
the capital of the caliphate with the accession of the Ommaiades,
who made that city their residence until the fall of the dynasty
in A. D. 7 18. In 775 Bagdad was preferred by the Abbassides,
who retained that as the seat of their dynasty until the extinction of the chaliphate of the East in A. D. 1258. In the West
the petty meleks or kings for more than a century remained
tributary to the Prophet's successor at Damascus, until their
own dissensions and the many alternations of the war led to
the establishment of the rival caliphate of the West in A. D.
749. The founder of this dynasty was Abdurrahman, a scion
of the Ommaiades, who upon the accession of the Abbassides
in the East, had alone been fortunate enough to escape
from the atrocious massacre of his kinsmen and to find his




14
way into Spain. The centre of the Western Caliphate, which
was one of great power and splendor, was Cordova (7501027). After its dissolution, the Moslem provinces of Spain
were again ruled by a number of petty kings, among whom we
must more especially mention those who resided at Granada and
Seville. The dominion of the Arabs in Spain, counting from
the first invasion, lasted from A. D. 711 until 1492, that is to
say, within a few years of eight centuries. The last stern
defender of Islam upon the soil of Spain was Abul Hassan of
Granada, and his son Boabdil the last Moorish king, expelled
by Ferdinand the Catholic in 1492.
One might suppose that so complete a change of sentiment
and life as that introduced by the new religion, and the perpetual dip of arms with the intoxication of success attending
the first conquests, would have entirely hushed the voice of the
old poetry of the Arabs, at least for a considerable time. But
this was far from being the case. For, in the first place, we
find not only poets, but poets of the court even, directly after
the establishment of the caliphate of Damascus, and in the second place, the Koran, although worshiped as the great textbook at once of the religion and of the education of the Moslem,
and venerated as a model of eloquence not to be surpassed or
even approached, nevertheless can not be said to have either
radically changed or even seriously modified the poetics of the
Arabs, who in this respect continued to cling to their antecedents of the Muallakat and of the Divan. The extent to which
this was the case is best illustrated by the following little incident:-The celebrated Feresdak, chancing one day to overhear
a passer-by repeating a passage from Lebid's m uallaka, prostrated himself upon the ground, as if in prayer, and when
interrogated about the cause of this, he replied, " Ye others
recite passages from the Koran, at which ye expect us to fall
down; I am acquainted with verses to which the same homage is
due." And this was not the senttiment of an individual only, or of
a particular epoch; it was the general one at all times, and there
were even those who went to the extreme of pronouncing all
the poetry of the islamitic period but a feeble echo of that of
the earlier golden age.
The dynasty of the Ommaiades no sooner was fairly established on its throne, than it already retained regularly paid poets
permanently at its court. One of the main duties of these poets
was avowedly that of the celebration of the sovereign at whose
residence they were thus honored, and their kassidas are therefore mostly of the panegyric kind. The poet generally begins




15
with allusions to his lady-love and to her former place of residence; he next describes the journey which is to conduct him
to the presence of his MIaecenas, and then concludes with a most
elaborately pompous eulogy of the suzerain. The importance
attached to pieces of this sort by the rulers of the East was
often very great, and there are instances in which a single
happy expression or a memorable verse relating to their praise
became an object of no little jealousy among them.
The number of poets, which flourished during the first century of the new era, was already very considerable, and the
respect and influence which the most prominent of' themn enjoyed among the nation at large, was often an immense one.
Indeed, it not unfrequently happened that their favor was
courted, as if it were a royal one, and the displeasure of their
verses dreaded as that of the most deadly enemy. All classes
of society were pervaded by a veritable passion for the noble
art, which neither the clash of arms nor the wild fanaticism,
which at that time was in full blaze to disseminate the new law
over the entire world, were able to silence or suppress. We
thus find, that even amid the noisiest alarms of war the comparative merit of two rival poets was discussed with a zeal that
scarcely could be surpassed, had the question turned upon the
most important affair of state, and that on the eve of a battle
and in the presence of two armies a public duel was to be fought
to decide the question, as to whether Djerir or Feresdak
was the greater poet of the two. This Djerir and Feresdak
together with Achtal enjoyed the fame of being the most distinguished representatives of their art during the first century;
and of this they themselves appear to have been so well aware,
that each of them looked upon himself as the superior not only
of his rivals but even of his predecessors,-an evidence that an
excess of modesty was not among their foibles or their virtues,
as it in fact rarely was among any of the poets of the Moslem
faith. For the rest, however, Djerir seems to have been tile
most successful of the three, and he could boast of himself as
unsurpassed in every department of poetry, while the rest excelled only in a special branch. A kassida, composed in honor
of the caliph, pleased, we are told, the latter so well, that he
promised the poet five hundred camels for his reward. Djerir,
however, not satisfied yet, expressed his apprehension, that
they might run away, unless they had a keeper. " Very well,
then," replied the caliph, "I'll give you eight slaves to watch
them."  " Then, Emir of the Faithful, I need nothing more
than a vessel into which to milk them," added the poet, keep



16
ing his eye riveted upon a golden bowl, which he found standing in the hall, and the magnanimity of his illustrious patron
could not well refuse to add this costly present to the rest.
(Journal Asiatique, I S34, No. ii., p. IS, 22).
As a part of the material organization of Moslem poetry we
must not forget to mention a particular class of men, analogous
to the jongleurs of the Provenqals, by the Arabs called rawias,
whose business consisted in reciting and disseminating the works
of their poets among the nation at large. They were accustomed to move as itinerants from place to place, and their
rehearsals were devoured by crowds of eager listeners everywhere. Some of them are reported to have been such prodigies
of memory, that the stories told of them border on the incredible.
It will be enough for our purpose to make room for one. Caliph
Al Walid once happening to ask rawia Hammad how many
poems he knew by heart, the latter replied: " I can repeat to
you for every letter of the alphabet one hundred long kassidas,
all of them rhyming with the letter, to say nothing of the many
shorter pieces. And all these kassidas are of the pagan age, to
which I might add many an other from the days of Islam."
Challenged to verify his boast, he then recited to the caliph's
representative (for the prince himself might have grown weary
of the trial) no less than two thousand nine hundred kassidas
from the pagan time, and was rewarded with the munificent
present of one hundred thousand dirhems for the feat.
But not content with the mere recital of their poetry, the
Arabs also sung much of it, especially the minor pieces, probably
of the amatory kind, to the sound of various instruments. The
art of music had anciently been much in vogue among them,
and although some of the more fastidious believers for a time
made objections to it from the writings of the Prophet, it yet
soon not only recovered but even surpassed its former popularity, and the palaces of the caliphs were resonant with the
merry notes of the human voice, and of the lute and cithern.
The number of singers of both sexes during the first century
and a half was very great, and we have even biographies left of
many of them. Most of them were either of Persian origin or
had been educated in their art by Persian masters, to whom the
Moslems thus probably became indebted for nearly all the new
improvements in this respect. The most celebrated of these
singers were Mabed and Assa ul Meila, the latter of whom
enjoyed the reputation of being the princess of all the players
on the cithern and the lute, while Mabed was allowed to boast
against a general of having composed the music to seven songs,




1.7
for each of which he claimed an honor superior to that of the
capture of a fortress; and so little opposition did his pretension
meet with, that the seven melodies subsequently acquired the
appellation of Mlabed's fortresses.
Such then was, briefly, the state of poet!ry and music
under the Eastern Caliphate until about the extinction of the
Ommaiades in A. D. 817.  The accession of the next dynasty,
that of the Abbassides, initiated but a new career of splen-lor,
superior even to the first; but this we are here not at liberty
to trace, it being now high time for us to turn our attention to
the West, to the new Caliphate of the Omlmaiades fat Cordova,
which fronm about this date for upward of two centuries divided
the power and the glory of the MIoslemn world.  Before the
arrival of Abdurrahman, the Arabs of Spain were too much
diverted by the war to have much leisure or inclination for
poetry or any of the fine arts, but under the auspices of this
prince and his illustrious successors the whole of the civilizatiotn
of the East was successfully transplanted upon western soil,
where it soon began to rival whatever there was of refinement
and intelligence, of luxury and splendor at the Eastern court,
and where it continued to flourish with a few transient interr'uptions until the extinction of the Moorish domination in Spain.
Before proceeding now to survey the poetry of the West, it wvill
not be out of place to give a brief outline of the general state of
letters and the arts, as cultivated and introduced by the princes
of this noble line.
Abdurrahman and his immediate successors contributed to
the material advancement of the nation on the most extensive
and magnificent scale. During their reign, Cordova grew up
into the largest city of the West, with its one hundred and thirteen thousand houses (exclusive of the palaces and other public
buildings), its twenty-eight suburbs and its three thousand
mosques. In every direction from the city, the valley of the
Guadalquivir was checkered with palaces and villas, with extensive gardens and charming places of public resort, inviting the
inhabitants to their refreshing shade.  A  huge bridge was
thrown across the river, and the immense mosque constructed
whose grandeur and magnificence were for centuries the object
of admiration and of pious visit to believers fiom every portion
of the world. The court of Abdurrahman II. vied in luxurious
splendor with that of Bagdad, and at his behest numberless
palaces, mosques, aqueducts, bridges, and other public works
arose in rapid succession over every part of Andalusia. Under
Abdurrahman III., who was the first to assume the title of Caliph
2)




1S
of tle West, the Kingdom of Andalusia reached its zenith of
material prosperity, and the genius of this magnanimous prince
made that prosperity the basis of so high an intellectual clllture,
that the writers of the West and East never grew weary of
speaking in terms of rapture of his character and influence.
The general education of the nation, as well as the advancement of the sciences and arts, was conducted with still greater
zeal and with the most brilliant success by the next followilng
caliplh, Hakem II., under whose auspices the public institutions
of his kingdom attained to a degree of perfection, such as they
had never seen before, and such as probably at that time scarce
existed anywhere else either in the West or East.  While in the
rest of Europe scarcely any one, except the clergy, knew how
to read and write, Andalusia, and in fact the whole of iMoorisbh
Spain, had schools without numhber, in which the art was generally taught, and Hakem gave his capital alone twenty-seven
for the special purpose of educating the children of the poorer
classes free of expense.  Nor was there any lack of institutions
of a higher grade; there were numerous academies, generally
attached to the mosques, at Cordova, Seville, Toledo, Valencia,
Almeria, Malaga and Jaen, at whTich the superior disciplines
were taught, such as the interpretation of the Koran, philology,
the mathematics, astronomy, medicine, jurisprudence and philosophy, and the halls of which attracted both hearers and professors from  all parts of the MIohammedan, and after a while
also fiom the Christian, world.  So general was the taste and
even the zeal for studies, that as these Spanish institutions were
frequented by students from the remotest parLts of Asia and the
heart of Germany, the Andalusiars on their part would frequently not shun the hardships of the long jourlney to the East
to quench their thirst for knowledge in the lecture-rooml of
ssome distinguished master at Tunis, Cairwan, Cairo, Damascus,
Bagdad, 3Iecca, Bassora or Cufa, and there are instances on
record in which such learned pilgrimages extended as far as
India and Chinla, and into the very heart of Afiica.
But not content with the mere vira vox of knowledge, Hakem
was determined to possess it in a more permanent borm; lihe
founded a library for which his agents were commissioned to
make collections in every part of the world, until the number
of its volumes, for which he mlade roonm in his palace at Cordova, had risen to the enormous figure of four hundred tlousand.
And all the books of this immense collection, it is asserted, were
read or consulted by the Caliph himself, and many of them
enriched with rmarginal notes firom his own hand.  The yersonac.9




19
of this library included a number of the most skillful copyists
and binders, who occupied  themselves constantly  with  the
multiplication or the restoration of the precious manuscripts.
JIakem's court thus soon became the natural resort for all the
genius of the nation, and his liberality towards men of letters is
said to have known no bounds.  The intellectual life developed
under the benign auspices of this prince was therefore naturally
and in every respect a most brilliant one, and there is no example
like it anywhere in the Middle Age.  Nor was the hlcdjib or
chamberlain of Hakei's impotent successor, the great Almlansur,
indifferent to science, but encouraged and rewardled  merit in
every one, except that his religious fanaticism  restricted  the
liberty of speech in matters of philosophy, to which before hirm
there had been no restraint.
The capture of Cordova by the Berbers in  1013 scattered
Hakem's nimmense collection of books, all of which were then
either destroyed or sold.  The dowtrfall of the Caliphate, however, so far from burying beneath its ruins the civilization it
had so successfully initiated and advanced, gave rise to a new
period of literary history, in every respect equal, if not superior, to that which had preceded.  The numerous independent
states, which formed themselves out of the dismembered empire,
became as many centres of intellectual light, of learned and
artistic  culture.  The small dynasties of' Seville, Granada,
Toledo, Badajoz and Almeria vied with each other in their zeal
for the advancement of the sciences and arts, and drew within
their circles crowds of authors, artists  and  other men  of
genius or talent, which then either received regular salary
or costly  presents for the dedication  of their works.*   At
all of these courts, the intellect, even in  matters of speculative  philosophy, enjoyed,a degree  of fireedom, such  as
in some parts of Europe the nineteenth century does not yet
I In connection with this patronage there was undoubtedly often much
servility.  We lhave, however, already met with instances of no small
degree of independence, and the following is one which may well pass for a
literary curiosity. An eminent philologian by the name of Abu Galib happened to attract the attention of Mudjahid the king of Dania, who promised him a horse, a superb suit of armnor, and one thousand pieces of gold,
if lie would honor him with the dedication of one of his works. But the
author promptly declined the present together with the honor by saying:
"I have written my book, to bIe of service to mankind and to make my
name immortal; and why should I now adorn it with the name of another
and thus transfer the fame of it to him? No! I shall never do it!' The
emir, who was a sensible man, no sooner heard of the reply, than, so ftar
from being offended, he expressed admiration for the savant's independence,
and sent him double the amount of the promised gift.




20
seem prepared to boast of. Some of the princes of these houses
themselves participated, like the caliphs, in the general emulation, and even won celebrity either as poets, philosophers or
authors of some other kind. Such were, fbr example, El Moktadir of Saragossa, El lMutsaffir of Badajoz, some of the Abbadides of Sevilla, of the Benu Somadih of Almeria and others.
It is true, that this state of things was not unfrequently menaced partly by the advances of the Christian  armies, and
sometimes also by the fanaticism of the Moorish allies called
in fiom Africa to aid against them, yet it may nevertheless be
said to have lasted with no material interruption until the very
end of the Moslem rule in Spain. Under the Almohades, especially under Abdulmunen and his successor Jussuf, Cordova
once more regained some of its former glory, as a seat of letters
and a place for books, and about this time its academies could
boast of men no less eminent than Averroeis, Abenzoar and
Abu Bacer, who long before our own revival of letters drew
the writings of Aristotle (although, it is maintained, only in
Syriac translations) from their oblivion, and with their bold
philosophical researches won themselves not only an immense
cotemporary celebrity, but a permanent place in the history of
philosophy. In regard to books, it has been ascertained that
as late as the thirteenth century the different cities of Andalusia contained no less than seventy libraries open to the public
(Journal Asiatique, 183S, No. IV., p. 73).
When in 1236 the grand mosque of Cordova was surmounted by the Christian cross and soon after Sevilla also surrendered to the king of Castile, the dominion of the Arabs
found itself reduced to much narrower limits, and the kingdom
of Granada now became the only seat of power left them.
This little kingdom, however, continued to maintain in the
most creditable manner the prestige of Moslem civilization intact for at least two centuries and a half after the fall of Cordova,
and most of its princes, after the example of Mohammed Ben
Ahmar, not only zealously kept up their schools and libraries,
but generously opened their court as an asylum to the many
unfortunate men of genius or learning expelled from conquered
quarters. Granada thus still remained, and to the very last,
the seat of no small degree of literary culture, which was vet
possessed of vitality enough to survive even the fall of the
Moorish dominion in Spain for some time after upon the soil of
Africa.
The centre and the soul of all this astonishing development
of intellectual life in Moorish Spain was, we may say it with



21
out exangeration, poetry, which for at least six centuries was
cultivated with so much zeal and by so large a number,
that a mere register of all the Arabic poets of the Peninsula would fill entire folios. Tile taste for it had by the
middle of the ninth century already become so general, that
not only the Arabs, but even some of the Christians subject to
their sway, occupied themselves with making verses in the
idiom  of Islam. About a century later we already begin to
meet with anthologies, as for example, "The Gardens" of
Ibn Ferradj, the two hundred chapters of which (each chapter
of one hundred distichs) were exclusively devoted to pieces
from the pens of Andalusian authors. This collection was soon
followed by numerous others, of which some professed merely
to complete it, while others made the necessary additions for
the next followingc centuries. Such were more especially those
of Ibn Bessam  and of Ibn Chakan, which for a long time
circulated widely as the most complete and popular.  We need
not be surprised therefore to find, that under influences like
these poetry should have allied itself so intimately not only
with the social relations, but even with the daily industrial occupations and enterprises of the nation, and that as the princes
sometimes did not disdain to emulate each other, and even the
poets in the art of making verses, so the very peasant of the
field took pleasure in his ingenious imliprovisations, and the
man behind the plough would sometimes boast of his ability
to spin out his rhymes on any given theme. Among the
caliphs and the princes the talent, or at any rate the attempt,
was so general, that there is yet extant a work exclusively devoted to the kings and nobles of Andalusia, who excelled in
this respect.  Nor were the ladies deficient either in ambition
or success, and the women of the harem not unfrequently contested the prize with men.  Poetical inscriptions upon the
walls and pillars of the palaces, which were often very ingeniously executed, constituted one of their most valued ornaments.
The cavalier needed a verse or two for the blade of his scimitar,
and there was no dull novelist or historian who could refirain
fiom spicing his' pages with some metrical citations or fi'agnents
of his own. The talent for poetry was not unfrequently the
passport by which men from the lowest ranks rose to the higlhest offices of state, and to princely influence and fortune.
Verses were employed to give emphasis or Jclat to diplomatic
transactions; sometimes they became the signal for bloody
conflict, as also then again the charm to mitigate the victor's
wrath. A single happy improvisation is known to have saved




22
the life of more than one condemned, and to have burst the
bolts of prisons.  Rhyme-duels between two combatants in the
presence of their respective armies were among the most common occurrences of warfare, while poetic challencges, as an
exercise of wit, constituted one of the standing amusements of
daily life.  Of epistolary correspondence in  verse between
fiiends and lovers there is also no lack of evidence. In a word,
the ability to express one's self in rhyme passed for one of the
most coveted accomplishments, and the mania insinuated itself
even into works of science and into papers of state.
As in the East, so also at Cordova, we meet with several
poets xvho made themselves more especially conspicuous at
court.  Under the earlier caliphs, there was, in the first place,
Yahyah, surnamed also fiom his personal appearance El Gazal
(i. e. the gazelle), who was honored with several important
embassies, and whose polished refinement of mannners and conversation made him welcome everywhere.  While at Constantinople, the emperor expressed the wish to retain him in his
service, but he excused himself by saying  that he could
not keep  him  company, on account of his inability  to
drink wine with him.  One day upon  the appearance of the
em:npress, he professed himself completely vanquished by her
charms, which he then Went on to celebrate in the most glowing terms,-a flattery which raised him  still higher in the
estimation of both their majesties.  When on another mission
to the king of the Normans, he produced an equally good impression by improvising some felicitous verses on the great
beauty of Queen Theuda. At a later date, however, he was
obliged to wander into exile  on account of some satirical
verses, which gave offense to Abdurrahman II., and then went
to Bagdad, where his ingenuity and esprit soon succeeded in
overcoming completely the fastidious prejudice against the
poetry of the West, still in vogue there.  In connection with
the court of Abdurrahman II., we have more especially to
notice a singer by the name of Ziryab from  Bagdad who had
come to Cordova on special invitation. His reception was of
the most flattering description; a supe'b mansion was assigned
to him, while his revenue in money and other allowances was
equal to that of a prince; and princely also was the display he
made of it, he never appearing in public without the attendance of one hundred slaves. But Ziryab was far from  being
a mere singer of the ordinary kind; lie had travelled extensively,
had studied poetry, astronomy, history, and art, was a man of
taste and wit, and his conversations on every branch of knowl



2:3
edge were so fascinating  and instructive, that the caliph chose
him  for his most intimate associate.  In his own  art, he knew
the words and tunes  of' ten thousand songs by heart; and his
sincging  was so  enchanting,, that tke  report obtained of his
receiving nightly visitations fiom gnii, instructin(r him in melodies.  The court of Abdurrahman III. boasted of the names of
Ibn  Abdrebbihi and  MIondhir Ibtn Said, from   the  latter  of
whom  the caliph  received  la most important service  at the
reception of an  embassy.  It once happened  that some envoys
from  Constantinople had arrived, and they were receivedl in the
magnificently decorated hall destined for that purpose. On their
(lelivering  their credentials and messages in  solemn  state, the
caliph called upon the most prominent of his saracns present to
reply  in an address commemorating the glory  of Islam  and
the honor of the caliphate; but they  unfortunately  all lost
their presence of mind and wretchedly failedl, when all at once
our poet  rose  and  delivered  a long  poetical harangue, by
which the  entire  audience was transported  with admiration,
and for which the monarch then munificently rewarded him with
a high office of state.*   Nor were the auspices of Almansur any
the less favorable to poetry and the poets, in cotnnection with
whom  he kept up regular literary corvecrsazione at his palace,
and allowed them  to accompany him  even on his military exped(itions.   Such  were,  for example, Ibn Derradj, Yussuf ar
Ramadi, and  Said, of whom  the latter more especially rose to
lligh consideration by a variety of pleasing compliments, amlong
others by some ingenious couplets composed upon the capture
of Count Garcia Fernandez  of Castile.   Said, however, had
some jealous rivals, who attempted  to  defame  him  with  the
charge of plagiarism.  But he stood  the trial ilrmposed  upon
him by Almlansur so much to his cre(lit, as only to receive
additional honors and rewards for it.:: In connection with the first caliph, we can scarcely avoid adding the following
pleasant little anecdote: —Abdurrahman happening to be ill, it wais declared necessary that he should be bled. He wvas seated in the great hall of the pavilion, which
surmounted the heights of Az-Za-hra, and the physiciarn was just at the point of
applying his instrument to the caliph's arm, when suddenly a starling came flying
in, and after alighting upon a goldet vase close by, gave utterance to the following verses:
" O0 thou, who with the lancet art now about to shed the blood of the ETnir of
the Ftithful, be careful, mind now, be careful of the illustrious vein, in which the
life of worlds is circulating!"
The starling repeated the couplet several times to the great amusement of the
~dliph, who expressed his astonishment and desired to know who taught the bird
the verses. Oai learning that 5MurdshanaL[, the mlother of the crown-prince El
lHakem, was the author of the ingenious device, I-e rewarded her with a maegnlificent
present for the enterttinrmeat she had arranged for him. (El Makkari, ed. G(ayaangos, vol. i.., p. 232.1




24
The dismemberment of the caliphate gave rise to a new
phase in the literary life of the MIoorish bards, and one which
bode much resemblance to that of the troubadours of Christian
Europe.  The poets now  commenced to move from  place to
place, and there was probably no petty court, no castle or
palace of prince or noble, which did not covet their association,
and receive them  as the honored guests of its refined society.
This society had now become a much freer one than that which
existed subject to the restraint of high court etiquette, and it:
was on that account extremely favorsble to a generous interchange of thought and to a high degree of intellectual culture,
The poets had many more Mlecenases to celebrate, and the
latter were rarely wanting in the ambition to appreciate and
reward them. Tile charming sky of Andalusia was of itself
enough to dispose even the obtuser mind to the delightful
intercourse of song and poesy, and the enchanting moonalght-evenings in sorne sequestered palace garden  naturally
invited to the recital of some fairy Oriental tale or to ingenious poetical improvisations, while the soft evening breezes
wafted coolness from  the fountains and friagrance friom the
flowers around the merry company, or the cup circulated
freely among them, directed perhaps and socially partaken of by
the high hand itself that gave the entertainment. The manners and customs of these small courts were thus in many
respects identical with those of our own mediaeval chivalry, and
there are not wanting those who on thataccount are inclined to
refer the origin of that institution to the Moslems and the East.
Without being at all disposed or willing to defend this theory,
we are yet ready to admit that many of the ideas and principles
characteristic of chivalry, as for example that of honor and of
gallantry, may be traced among the Arabs as far back as the
time of their earliest antiquity, The respect for woman and
her protection, the glory of perilous achievements, the defense
of the weak or the oppressed, and the punctilious exaction of
revenge, constituted the main characteristics of the otherwise
lawless old Beduin of the desert, and this was the magic circle
to which  his entire life belonged. The  chivalry  of the
Moslems, therefore, developed itself doubtless fiom  its own
resources, and we must also add as incontestable, that the
spirit and refinement of it showed itself some centuries earlier
alnong them than among the warriors of Christian Europe.
The poetry of Moorish Spain differs upon the whole but
little, either in point of' form or character, from that of the:




East, except perhaps as far as it was modified imperceptibly by
the influence of climate and of sky, and that not only because
there was identity of origin, but also because the intellectual
commerce between the colony and the mother country was,
as we have seen, an uninterrupted and often a very lively one.
Now this may be asserted as correct in spite of the circumstance that the same can not be afrmed of the language, which
in the mouth of the Andalusian soon lost so much of its native
purity as gradually to degenerate to degenerate into an ungrammatical dialect,
so that the Beduin of the desert (who by  the way always
remained the authority of it) might have found  fault with
the speech of a MIoor in other respects much superior to him.
The fact was, that the deterioration in question affected rather
the speech than the written language of the Spanish Moslem,
who in his youth was made familiar, not only with his Koran,
but quite commonly also with his grammar and the poets, and
if he made pretentions to superior education would have
incurred the censure of good society, had he not been able
to recite at least a certain number (and this was not unfrequently quite considerable) of elegant extracts from  the
classical writers of his nation in poetry and prose. If he professed to be a poet, or intended to become one, he would
subject himself to a severer discipline and a more extensive
course on literature, nor would he ever consider himself at
liberty to neglect his Hamasa or his MIuallakat.  We need not
therefore be surprised to find that the poets of the West
generally showed no lack either of correctness or of elegance, and
that the most prominent of their number never failed of being
recognized by their rivals in the East, as in every respect their
peers.   Ibn  Zeidun  thus acquired  the  epithet of "the
Bothori of the West," while Ibn Hani, Ar-Remmadi and Ibn
Derradlj were each of' them honored as " the Alontenebbi of the
Occident," and  MIontenebbi himself, on hearing the poems
of a Spaniard recited, is said to have exclaimed with enthusiastic admiration: "This people is really possessed of genius
for poetry!1*
The subjects treated by the poets of the West no longer
revolve within the narrow circle of the Beduins of the desert, but
correspond in point of variety and multiplicity with the expanded relations of a more advanced civilization.   The different:; Mlontenebbi wrote very early in life, and his conceit at one time misled him
into aspiring after a new prophetship (whence his name the " Pretender to the
Prophetship"). He found himself. however, three centuries too late, and was
obliged to remain content a poet.  And he nevertheless really was one in every
sense.




26
collections therefore offer us multitudes of pieces of every description and dimension, and from  numberless authors,-lays
of the chivalrous and amatory kind, poems relatingc to the sacred
wars, panegyrics and satires, pieces descriptive of nature or of
tworks of art, elegies and religious poems, drinking-songs, epigrams, besides a variety of popular forms and miscellaneous
specimens that can not well be classified.  We now propose to
pass the most important of these rubrics briefly in review.
The position of woman in the society of iloslem Spain seems
to have been a. fieer one than elsewhere amnong the Mohaminmedans, and she was permitted to be a sharer of the whole intellectual culture of her time.  Hetlce we find quite a number of
those who either won distinction in the sciences or vied with the
men in the art of making poetry.  This superiority of education gave rise to a degree and kind of respect such as the E-ast
scarcely knew, where the sentiment of love, for examnple, was
almost exclusively based on merely physical charmns, alnd thle
relation between the sexes thus became a much superior one.
Talent and knowledcge were regarded as attractions in no
respect inferior to those of personal beauty, and it was not unfrequently the case that a comlmon taste for music or poetry constituted an intimate bond of union between two hearts. We need
not therefore be surprised, when in the amatory poetry of the
Spanish Arabs we occasionally meet with an intensity of feeling,
a mixture of impetuous passion and of tender melancholy, such as
our MAiddle Age scarcely can produce an instance of, and which
is much closer allied to the sentimentality of modern times.
Nevertheless, however true all this may be, we will yet not
undertake to deny that much of the amatory poetry of the MIoors
is pervaded by the voluptuous element to a muc'l gre;)ter extent than good taste is now  willing to admit, and we shalt
on that account not dwell on it.  We will content ourselves
with a few specimens of the purer sort.
The following love-epistle addressed  to his lady-love  by
Prince Izzuddaula is destitute neither of ingenuity nor of delicacy of sentiment:
In mourning and with longing sighs have I composed for tlee this letter, Iny love; and had1 my heart but courage, how faia would I myself beconle the bearer of my message.'
" Inagine, in perusing now these lines, myself as coming from a distance,
and the black letters to be the pupils of Iny own dark eyes."
"Permit my kisses to be imprinted on the little note, the seal of which, 0
dearest one on earth, is destined presently to be dissolved by thy white,
tender fingers."  (Dozy's Recherches, p. 111,)




27
The following ghasel from  the pen of Crown-prince Abdurrahman has reference to  the idea of meeting in dreams,
quite frequently treated by the Aloorish poets:
"Let her be greeted, who never deigned to requite mne with a solitary
word; whol() never to the warmest salutations of my heart sent me the least
consoling,- answer."'Let the,azelle be greeed(l, who thus reciprocates my inclination as
cruelly to transfix me withl her looks, whichl wound like liglltly feathered
arrows."
"Ah, she has never given me hope or balm to heal my aching sorrow,
lhas never to my slumbers sent her lovely image to encourage." (Von Schack~
vol. i., p. 120.)
To Said Ibn Djudi, a poet of the ninth century, we are indebted for a few couplets which in delicacy of sentiment could
not be lut below many of those of the troubadours or minnesingers of the twelfth and thirteenth:
" Since I lhave heard her v3ice, Iny soul has fled from mIe; the enchanting
sound has left nme but regrets and sorrow."
" I think of hier, and ever but ot lher, my dear Djelhana; we never met,
my eyes belield her never, and yet I made her a surrender of this heart."
" HIer dearly cherished namne, which I prize above all, I'll now invoke with
tear-dew in iny eyes, as the monk calls on the image of his saint."
The pain of separation is thus celebrated in a few verses
from the pen of Abul Fadhl Iyad:
"Since I belield thee last, I've been a bird witli broken pinions.  All,
could I but wing my way to thee beyond the sea; for our separation will be
the cause of death to me." (Dozy's IHistoire, vol. ii., p. 228.)
Ibn Hazem, one of the celebrated names of the  eleventh
century, has left us not only a variety of couplets belonging to
this rubric, but also a most charmingr  account of an early love,
evincitg a delicacy and  simplicity of feeling not unworthy of
the time of Boccaccio or Goethe.  This Arabic novella, for which
we are sorry we have no room  here, may be found in Dozy's
Histoire, vol. iii., p. 344, seq.,* and in Von Schack, vol. i., p.
10S-1 14.
Abu AamiL was an Andalusian poet, and Hind a lady of
no less distinguished talent for poetry and music.  Aamir had
collected a little party about him  (doubtless in some enchanting spot, for he speaks of the notes of nightingales around him),
and there was nothing wanting to complete their satisfaction
but the presence and the lute of Hind.  Aamir therefore sent her: The really classical love-story of the Arlbs, however; and one to which the
poets frequently allude as familiar to every one, is the extremely touching and
idyllic history of Djelnil and BIotheina which originated in the desert, probably
during the first half century of the Caliphate. It is reported by Ibn Challikan,
ed. de Slane, 169, and also by Von Schack, vol. i., p 837




28
a polite poetical epistle inviting her to come, and to assure her
of good company, promised her not only devout listening, but
also the absence of every drink but water.  Hind replied on
the back of the letter, in the same measure and with the same
number of verses, expressing her readiness to be present at so
intellectual a reztnion.
Almansur once sat in comlpany with Vizier Abul Mogira in
the gardeni of his magnificent country palais Zahira, and while
both were taking their ease over their wine they all at once heard
a fair voice commencing the couplets of a plaintive amorous
ditty. Now it so happened that the voice was not unfamiliar
to either of them; for Almansur recognized it as that of the
one he loved, while the vizier knew her to have a passion for
himself. Abul MIogira therefore could not help referring the
impassioned words of the fair singer to himself, and he was so
imprudent as to reply to her in a few equally enamored couplets of his own. Almansur was infuriated, acld thundered out
the terrible inquiry; " Confess to me the truth, fair wretch!
was the vizier here the object of' thy song?"  The lady did not
hesitate to admit her predilection and appealed to his magnanimity for pardon; she did so in a new series of verses, which
she recited amid tears.  Almansur now  turned his anger
towards the vizier, and loaded him with reproaches. The latter, however, although admitting his error, excused himself by
saying that lie could not help it, each one being the slave of
his inevitable Fate, and his own in this instance happening to
have been that he should love one he was not permitted.  Almansur remained silent for a while, but finally magnanimously
replied: "Very well! then I must pardon both of you. Abul
Mogira, the lady belongs to you; I surrender her to you."
Hafsa, one of the fair poetesses of Granada, celebrated alike
for her great beauty and her talent, had formed a sort of platonic liaiso~n with the poet Djafer. But, unfortunately, the
governor of Granada had also an eye upon her, and had become so jealous as to seek to destroy his rival. She was therefore obliged to use great caution, and when her friend once asked
her for an interview she hesitated two months with her answer.
MIeanwhile Djafer, not knowing what to make of her long silence, wrote her a poetical epistle, still extant and full of tender melancholy and despair. The letter, which the author sent
through his slave Assam, had no sooner reached, than the
lady at once replied in the same metre and in the same rhyme,
endeavoring to dispel his gloom and assuring him, that if he
knew the ground of her reticence, he would cease to accuse




29
her.  Hafsa gave her answer to the same slave that had
brought the letter, but in dismissing him she artfully treated
him so roughly, heaping reproaches upon him and his master
both, that the poor messenger on his return bitterly complained
of rudeness.  The poet, however, on opening the epistle, found
just the contrary, not only ample apology, but even the appointment of a rendezvous in his garden, and on that account
pronounced his slave insensate. Presently the two really met
in Djafer's garden, and when the latter was about to make reproaches, Hafsa hushed him  by improvising: "Enough, that
we are here together, and silent as in days gone by."  (El
MIakkari, ed. Gayangos, vol. ii., p. 540.)
Abu Amr of Malaga, once happening upon a promenade
about the precincts of his native city to meet Abdul Wahab, a
great amateur of poetry, was asked by the latter to repeat
for him some verses. He recited as follows:
" She has deprived Aurora of her blooming cheeks; she has received her
slender form in feoff from Irak's fair-proportioned stems.' She threw away her jewels to choose for her a better ornament, and put
the stars about her neck, like strings of pearls, all bright,and luminous."
" And not content with the light, graceful shape of the gazelle, she robbed
the little animal of the sweet brightness of its eye besides."
Abdul Wahab had no sooner heard these verses than he burst
out into an exclamation of admiration and fell to the ground
like one in a swoon.  On recovering, he said: 1" Pardon me,
my friend! There are two things, which always put me beside
myself, so that I no longer remain master of, my senses.  They
are, the aspect of a fair countenance and the voice of genuine
poetry."  (El Makkari, ed. Gayangos, vol. ii., p. 274, and Von
Schack, vol. i., p. 240.)
In connection with this branch of Arabic poetry, we must
not omit the names of Ibn Zeidun, one of the most eminent
Andalusian poets, born about 1003, and of his Wallada, the
fair and highly accomplished princess loved by him and celebrated in his verses. Ibn Zeidun's great talents had quite
early in life elevated him to a very high position at the court of
Ibn Djahwalr, who after the downfall of the caliphate was for
some time in power at Cordova.  The poet enjoyed the most
intimate confidence of his master for a great while and was
honored with several missions to some of the smaller courts of
Andalus. But he had also jealous rivals, and their machinations after a while succeeded in effecting his disgrace. The
cause of this misfortune is supposed to have been his relations
with Princess Wallada, who, as an enthusiast for poetry and




herself a clever writer of verses, Jiad great respect for our poet
and openly preferred him to all the rest of her admirers.  Tio
one of these her conduct gave so much offense, that he meditated revenge and resorted to calumnies, for which after a while
he gained admittance to the ear of the commander.  The consequence was, that our late influential favorite was thrown into
a dungeon, and there remained confined, in vain attempting
through the mediation of a friend to recover the ftavor of his
angry patron.  Yet he succeeded, after some efforts, in making
his escape fiom prison, and after having kept himself concealed
at Cordova for a while, he finally fled to the western part of
Andalusia.  But the pain of separation fiom  his Wallada and
the desire of living' somewhere in her proximity did not suffer
him long to remain so far away, and he therefore soon returned
to Az-Zahra, one of the half-ruined palaces of the Ommnaiades
near Cordova, where he entertained some hope of at least occasionally meeting with the madonna of his heart.  He next led
a sort of erratic life, travelling at random through the different
provinces of Spain, until he at last settled permanently at Seville, where El 3Iotadid received the weary wanderer with cordiality and honored him with princely confidence until the year
of his death, in 1071.
The Arabic anthologists are all of them  extremely prodigal
of their hyperbolies in praise of Ibn Zeidun's charming ghasels,
which they maintain possessed of a power such as no magic
ever owned, and of a sublimity with which the stars could
never vie.  And we must recollect that most of this poetry,
which was composed at different times and from different places,
had reference to his relations with Wallada, whom, as long as
he lived, he continued to celebrate with the profound devotion
of our  modern Petrarch, and with the restlessness of Childe
Harold.  WAVNe have thus another instance of a closer approximation to modern times than to the Christian poetry of the
Middle Age, and we have only to regret that our limits will not
allow us to produce in evidence some specimens (Von Schack
vol. i., p. 300-314).
One of the most prolific and attractive themes of the poets
of the West was thle sacred wars of the Peninsula, in which the
Moors were perpetually engaged, and in which they evinced
scarcely any less ardor and self-sacrificing devotion than the
Christians. These wars lasted for imore than seven centuries
with alternating success, which, however, at first, before and
du ring the caliphate, was generally on the side of the Moslems,




31
while after the fall of the Ommaiades the Christians gradulally
and steadily won more and more of the ascendant. But such was
the pertinacity of Islam, that its existence on the soil of Spain
was no sooner periled than new hordes of fanatical barbarians
came streaming to its succor from Africa, and the contest became only so much the more fierce and destructive. There is
thus scarcely a foot of ground on the Peninsula that was not
moistened with the blood of the crusaders of both parties, and
the nunmber of those who fell in terrible battles like those of
Zalaca, Alarcos, las Navas de Tolosa and others, amlounted to
hl ndrcds of thousands, all of them firmly persuaded, on the one
hand, of earnino heaven with  their devotion to the cross,
and on the  other of meriting  Mlohammed's Paradise  as
martyrs.  The war, although originally one of conquest, yet
after a while became a purely religious one on both sides, and
on that account offers us a variety of curious points of contrast
and resem blance.  While the Christians scarcely ever prepared
for a decisive engagement without on the eve of it celebrating
the mysteries of the passion and partaking of the sacrament,
the;Mohammedans would on their part under the same circumstances spend entire nights in prayer and go on long pilgrimages to MIecca, to sue'for the privilege of dying for their faith
the death of martyrs. It was one of their traditions, that every
one wounded in one of these battles would on the day of judgment appear with his wound bleeding; but this blood would
be real blood only in color, and would exude a fragrance similar to musk. Nor was there any want of miracles on these
occasions. On the eve of the battle of Alarcos, Abu Yussuf,
after having spent the night on his knees, saw in his morningdream a knight mounted on a snow-white charger descending
from the sky with an immense green banner in his hand, who
presently announced himself as an angel fromn the seventh
heaven, coming from Allah to bring his faithful warriors victory.
On the part of' the Christians, it was Saint Iago, on whose patronage they mainly relied, and he was in more than one emergency more terrible than thunder and lightning to the Moors,
who fled in terror and confusion whenever he was at hand.
Let us now see what the poets have to say about these wars,
in which they themselves acted no inconsiderable part; and
with what accents they at one time seek to enlist for the standard of the Prophet; and at another either celebrate a victory or
give vent to lamentations over a defeat.
The following may serve as a specimen of the Arabic prezicuwsa
or poetical exhortation to the sacred war, in which we will not




fail to perceive at least as nmuch earnestness and unction as in
most of those of the Provencals.   The author of it is Abu
Omar, the secretary of Ibn ul Ahmar, king of Granada, at
whose request it was composed and read to Sultan Abu Yussuf,
to inspire the latter with new zeal for the war against the enemies of the faith.  Its date is 1275, and we may add, that at
that time the greater part of the Peninsula had already been
subjected by the Christians.
"Ihere lies the path of safety. Is there one, be it in Spain, or be it in
Africa, willing to enter it? who dreads Gehenna's flames, the torments of the
damned, and longs for the eternal bliss of Paradise, where cooling shades and
fountains are reserved for him? Thou, who art eager for victory in this our
struggle for the faith, obey the impulse of thy heart! Go, armed with hope
and confidence to meet salvation: and since thy cause is noble, there will
be success.... Delay not; for who can assure thee of thy life to-morrow? The
time of death is never known to us; but rest assured, thou never shalt escape the payment of the debt from which no mortals are exempt. If not today, thou yet must soon expect to leave thy place. Thejourney before thee is
difficult, and one fromn which there can be no return. Be up then, and to ease
the hardship of the road, supply thyself with an abundance of good works!
And recollect, the first and most important of pious works is this our sacred
war for the maintainance of our faith. Improve then the precious opportunity, and move at once to combat on the soil of Andalus. For God loves and
rewards the one who dedicates himself to such a fight."...
" Who follows the example of the Prophet?...   ho's ready now to
flee to God, and by combating for him to purge his soul of the contamination
of his sins? Can ye take pleasure in the cities of the enemy, which do not
pray to Allah? Will ye endure it, to be derided by the believers in three
gods, who hate us for firmly adhering to but one? What have we not
already suffered from the rabble! How many mosques of our land have
been converted into churches!  0, the disgrace!  Do ye not die from
the chagrin, when ye are witnesses to it! The bell hangs now on our
minaret; the priest is seen standing on its roof, and wine flows in the
house of Allah, alas! nor is the voice of the believer any longer heard in it..   How many men of our nation, how many women, are languishing in
chains among them, longing in vain for ransomn from their dark dungeons!
hIow many maidens, who in their distress can see no savior but their death,
are mourning desolate in Christian cities!  hIow  many children, whose
parents weep for having given life to little ones to be tormented!... HIow
many martyrs, laid low by the sword, have not, as corpses of wounds without
number, covered the battle-grounds! The angels of heaven will on belholding
it drop tears of sorrow, nor can men whose heart is not of rock, be witnesses
to all this misery without compassion.   Do ye not recollect our old alliance, our consanguinity!... And were the Christians ever too indolent to
unsheath their swords, when vengeance called for it? Alas! the pride of
Islam is extinct,-that pride, which once so nobly glowed. Why do ye hesitate thus in despair? Do ye expect a sword to wound, unless ye draw it?"'
" You are our neighbors, ye Merinides; let therefore now your succor bs
the first! The war for our common faith is your first, highest and most sacred duty. Neglect it not! And choose one of the two, the glory of victory
or martyrdom! Then will the Lord vouchsafe you rich reward, and fairest
maidens will receive you in his heaven.  The black-eyed huris of his Paradise above are even now ready to bid you welcome! Who then will offer




33
himself now as Allali's combatant? Who'll purchase of him heaven's eternal
boon?  Allah has pledged protection to the faith, and never has his word
been broken..... Ye are God's host, strong enough, if ye but will it, to subdue the world; and for the true religion can ye now but sigh and silently
lament instead of acting? How could ye dare to appear before the Prophet,
if he were to invite you now? Have ye excuses, were he to say to you:' Why did ye not succor my people in distress, when it was so maltreated by
the enemny?'  Could ye escape the punishment, were ye with shame to
hear this from his lips? Beseehll him therefore to remain your mediator on
the dread day of judgment. and fight now valiantly for his faith! Then he'll
conduct you, brethren, safely to the pure limpid fountains of his Paradise."
(Ibn Chaldun, vol. ii., p. 288; Von Schack, vol. i., p. 155.)
Another, and in many respects even a more eloquent and
elevated kassida of the sort was composed by Ibn ul Abbar,
who, when in 1238 Valencia was sorely distressed by the Christians, was commissioned by the alcayde of the city to go to
Africa to the court of Abu Zekeria, one of the most powerful
of its princes, to solicit his assistance. Our poet-ambassador
had no sooner arrived than he recited his kassida in the presence
of the entire court, on which, we are told, it produced so deep an
impression that the prince at once conceded theJ desired succor
by sending a well-armed fleet to operate upon the Spanish
coast.
Nor is there any lack of kassidas commemorating the victories achieved by the Moslem arms of Spain and the glory of the
chiefs that conducted them. When Abu Yussuf, for example,
directly after the battle of Ecija, was entering Algesiras, he
received from the prince of Malaga a poetical address congratulating him upon his victory. We have here room only for a
few passages from it:
"The four winds have already brought us tidings of thy victories, and
the stars, as they rise in the East, have been the messengers of thy success.
The space was narrow for all the angelic host which brought thee help, O
chief, and the wide battle-field didl not contain them, while from the circling
spheres above the song resounded:'The Lord shall be thy succor in all
thy plans.' The life, which each of us would gladly purchase with his own,
thou hast thyself devoted to the service of the Highest, the Eternal One!
Thou tookst the field for His religion, protecting it, relying on the prowess
of thy unbending mind, as on a sword; gloriously was then thy undertakin.
crowned by thy successful army, and thou hast now achieved a work which
never shall be dissipated into naught.... How majestic is thy army.
O prince, when in the roaring din of battle the swarm of eager chargers
surges onward, and the lances break and whistle all around!  Thou art
God's legate, leading his sacred cause, and his protecting eye is therefore
ever upon thee; may it never fail watching!  Thou hast adorned the faith
with new, unfadling splendor, and time will not be able to rob thee of the
honor cf such lofty deeds!...  May ie, whose faith thy sword
defended, in his benignity now shield thee against every harm, and may he
so abundantly upon thy head his blessings shower, that their fragrance may
endure as long as time shall last."  (Von Schack, vol. i., p. 153.)
3




34
The laments over the reverses of Islam are no less eloquent,
and sometimes extremely delicate and pathetic. Such are, for
example, those relating to the loss of cities, like Valencia, Seville,
and others, for a specimen of which we refer the reader to
Fauriel's History of Provencal Poetry (English translation),
page 454, and to the "Journal Asiatique," vol. iv. of the First
Series.
While the Spanish Moslems were thus celebrating their
heroic exploits with all the studied rhetoric and gorgeous
imagery of the Orientals, the rest of Europe was scarcely beyond
the crudest beginnings of poetry, with the single exception of
the Proveneals, who at an early date commenced to rival their
antagonists in spirited compositions relating to the sacred war.
The Castillian was not sufficiently advanced for any such purpose, and its earliest crude tentatives, the ballads on the Cid do,
not date farther back than the twelfth century, and could in
point of art not be approached to the elaborate finish of the
Arabs.  In speaking here of the renowned champion of the
Spanish romavnzas. we cannot refrain from noticing in a few
words the great contrast between the Arabic and Christian
accounts of him. While among the latter Cid Ruy Diaz el
Campeador (as his full name reads), is invariably represented as
the model of every chivalric virtue, kind, afftble, honorable, and
always loyal even toward his unjust king, the Arabs give him
the character of a perfidious and cruel barbarian, who fought
neither for his king nor his faith, but in the service of some of
he small Mohammedan princes. In this light he- appears more
especially in connection with the siege of Valencia, which he
conducted, and where, after its surrender, he perpetrated the
most atrocious barbarities, condemning the alcayde to to the stake,
and menacing his wife and daughters with the same. "This
terrible calamity," says the account, "filled all classes of society
with pain and shame. Nevertheless the power of the tyrant
kept constantly increasing and rested heavily on hill and dale,
inspiring all the inhabitants of the Peninsula with dread..
And yet this man, who was the scourge of his time, was, in
respect to ambition, sagacity, and firmness of character, one of
the miracles of God. He died shortly after at Valencia a natural death."  (Dozy's Recherches, and Von Schack, vol. i.
p. 161-171.)
We have already more than once alluded to the encomiastic poetry of the Arabs, which they were so often called
upon to write in honor of their princes, and of which in the




35
course of centuries there must have been an enormous number of pieces.  We have now  a word or two to add upon
this point.  It is a singular fact that in these compositions
the poets of every period of their history adhere much more
closely to the classical models of the Muallakat than in any
other, and that on that account the reminiscences of the old
poetry are made to occupy so conspicuous a place as sometimes to be entirely out of proportion  with  the object proposed. Descriptions of nomadic life, idyllic love-scenes, or
amorous  laments  are  therefore scarcely  ever wanting, and
it sometimes seems as if the poets of Andalusia's luxurious
courts and enchanting landscapes were nevertheless longing for
the old desert as for a better home. The princes themselves
are not unfrequently addressed as if they were nomadic chliefs,
anid the poet likewise speaks of himself as of an Arab of the olden
time.  These preliminary amplifications often occupy so much
of the kassida as to leave but a subordinate place for the encormiumn  proper, which generally comes in at the end.  In  the.panegyric portion, in which the poet seeks to celebrate the
valor, the liberality  and princely  splendor of his patron, his
naturally incurs the danger of becoming artificial, extravagant,
or even bombastic; but although this is really the case with
many, we are perhaps no less often surprised with an energy of'
expression and a boldness of imagery which we must recognise
as classical. Let the following verses, addressed by Abdrebbihi
to, AbdurrahmanIll. prior to his assuming the title of caliph,
serve as an example:
"The Lord in his benignity has opene(d widely now the way to Islam,
tand men aire ip.ressing, crowd upon crowd, on towards the road of mercy. On
their behalf the Earth adortns herself for fairer habitation, and shines
Resplendent as if arrayed in silk. The cloud, O caliph-son, xwould cease to'rain, were it to witness the kindly munificence, with which thou know'st to
bless; and were the war to see thee leading thy hosts to battle, it would desq)air of stirring equal courage in others' breast. Before thee heresy falls prostrate and suppliant upon the ground; and singe thou ruJest, the horses willingly
obey thy reins. The victory, O prince, is tied inlissolably to tl-y standards,
evllen or by night or noonday they float before thee in the breeze of
thly career; and thy refusal will rouse the caliphate to anger, if thlou, the
scion of the illustrious line, dost not thyself put on thy head the crown ot
the great Emir of the Faithful." (Von Schack, vol. i., p. 200..)
To this specimetnI we may be permitted to add another, addressed by Ibn Hani to  some other prince.  It is, however,
much more hyperbolical:
"Before thy horses, when they storm onward to.thLe assault, there are no
hills, no mountains, however lofty they may tower up. They're known by
ateing always fGrenmost in the race,'but Tno eye ever can pursue them, as they




36
aldvance. The lightning knows of them, that they ride on its wings, and that
ill swiftness they excel even thought. The clouds, which towards the north
our down their fullest streams, are vanquished into shame before thy mag-,,animity's abundant showers. Thy right hand seems to touch and guide the
verv stars of heaven, as they emerge from lowering clouds of rain."  (Ihn
(hallikan, ed. de Slane.)
One of the most distinguished poetical representatives of Granada was Ibn ul Chatib, from whose pen we have an entire
divan of verses left us. He was prime minister and vizier to
both Abul Hadjadj and his son Mahommed V., several times
ambassador, and upon lMohammed's dethronement his companion and eloquent advocate at the court of Fez. To this court
he had some time before been sent on a mission, to implore, in
behalf of his master, Sultan Abu-Inan, for aid against the Christians, and this aid he obtained together with many compliments
and presents by the recital of a poetical address, of which the
following is the purport:
" Legate of Allah! may thy renown augment and exdlt itself, as long as
the moon's placid rays dispel night's darkness, and may the Supreme Ruleir
of our fate in his benignity ever defend thee, when dangers lower against
which human power proves unavailing. Thy countenance dispels the midnight gloom, which sorrow casts around us, and thy hand showers refreshmnent on him who languishes distressed! Long since would our people have
been expelled from Andalusia's lovely plains, hadst thou not with thy host
dispensed abundant succor. But one thing now is needful for our Spain,
potent commander,-but this one,-that thou shouldst send without delay thy
army to our strand, to save us and to avert the threatening cloud."  (Ibn
Chaldun, Histoire des Berberes, vol. ii., and Von Sehack, vol. i., p. 335.)
The satire was scarcely any less zealously cultivated by the
Arabs of Spain than the panegyric, and their kassidas of this
category are often so elaborately constructed as to be a running
parody on the eulogistic.  Their satire, however, is rarely objective, that is to say, levelling at the vices or foibles of nmeln inI
general, but almost invariably personal and determined by special situations or events. The weapon was, therefore, a generally dreaded one, and vet it is remarkable to observe, how often
and with what degree of license the poets made use of it, not
only against each other or their equals, but even against the
mightiest of those in power. We thus find Hisham's impotent
administration sorely castigated, in spite of the terror of its
dreaded regent Almansur, and El M1otadid of Seville is ruthllessly caricatured by Ibn Ammar in a long kassida in the shape
of a regular parody on the encomiastic. In a. shorter piece,
directed against a member of his own craft, Ibn Ocht Ganirn
advises him " not to be so impudent as to sip of the drink of
which he is not worthy, and not to soil the noble art of poetry




37
with kisses from his lips."  From  this we must not imagine,
however, that the poet was always safe in the employment of so
perilous a weapon. Ibn Am mar was subsequently cruelly assassinated, although for another much graver offense, by El Motadid's son, while Abul 5Makshi, as we shall presently see, lost
both his eyes on account of some offensive allusions to a prince
of the time of Abdurrahman I.
That the charming sky and the enchanting landscapes of
Andalusia did not fiail to produce their effect on the imagination of the Moorish poets is manifest firom a great diversity of
pieces descriptive partly of scenes and other objects of nature,
nartly of some of its numberless works of human art.  Andalusia
itself is sung in terms of the most glowing eulogy, and lauded
as the terrestrial iepresentative of Paradise.  We meet with
verses on the rivers, the Guadalquivir and the Guadix, on the
rock of Gibraltar, on moonlit evenings amid fairy gardens or
ruined palaces, on the orange-groves of' Seville, on flowers,
stars, landscapes and fountains, in short, on every thing which
the poet's fancy could invest with interest or life.  Boatingexcursions on the rivers, especially of' a calm  clear night, aire
frequently dwelt upon with manifest delight.  There is scarcely
a variety of flowers, on which there are not some ingenious
verses, especially on the violet, which to the Andalusian was
tile harbinger of an eternal spring.  If the object described
happened to be a work of art, such as a palace, the verses, if'
tlley were especially approved, were inscribed in letters of gold
upon the walls of the monument thus celebrated, as we may at
tlis day yet see them in some of the villas of Sicily or in the
hialls of the Alhambra.
In spite of the prohibitions of their religion, the Moslems of
Spain seem nevertheless to have been any thing but abstinent
of wine, and, if we may credit the poets, to have passed the
cup freely at every hour of the day, sometimes even early in
the morning.  But their drinking seems to have been rarely
solitary or intemperate; it was rather convivial and linked to
social merriment, to poetry and music.  This is evident from
their many drinking-songs, sonime  of which are  extremely
spirited andl lively, and not unfrequently a jovial defiance of the
law. ThusEl otadid proposesanew  commandment, enjoining
on all true believers to drink early in the nlorning, instead
of listening to the ti uezzin, and Ibn tIazmun somewhat waggish



ly derides the anchorites and dervishes on account of their
hypocrisy in this respect.
" The use of wine is in itself no critne  the crime is but the terror of the
law, or eTse even our dervishes world dare to moist en their dry palates
with the cup.'
"When during the nig. ht theyrve mutteredl prayers until their throats
are hoarse and sore; say, o tliey not thermselves then reel like wanton
camnels o'er the sand?"
"My house is therefore like their cells; yet maidens, slender as
gazelles, are my mnuezzins, and I use cups to lighll it, instead of lamps."
(Von Schack, vol. i., p. 218.)
That the Moorish poets, however, gay, light and fan ciful as they
naturally were, could yet also be of a much graver tone of mind
is evidenced by a multitude of elegies and pieces of a religious
turn, of which not a few must be ranked among their most'
finished and successful compositions.  From some of thein we
have poetical prayers, which often evince no little earnestness
and depth of feeling combined with great beauty of execution;:
from others religious couplets of a different sort, as for example,
verses which the poet would write before his death with the
request of having them  inscribed upon his tomb; and of these
mieces some are considerably longer and more elaborate thacn
the mere epigram.  Reflections upon the instability of human
life, repentance over past offenses, and hope in a divine mercy
most generally constitute the simple circle of' ideas within
which they moved, That many of these compositions must
have been highly prized and even used  as prayers is evident
fronm As-Suhaili's assertion in reference to one composed by
himself, of which he says every one that had made use of it
to ask God for some favor had met with the fulfilment of his
w7ishes.  We have room  here for a few  of the co'ncluding
verses:
iI have no other refuge but that of knocking at thy door; and if thou
openest not, then I stand powerless and hopeless in my woe. O Lord,
whose name I praise now and invoke in prayer, if thou, dost. not vouch.
safe to grant thy servant what he sues for now, do not on that account
plunge the poor sinner into complete despair; for boundless is thy benignity
and infinite thy mercy."  (Ibn (:hallilkan, art. As-Suhaili.)
In the department of the elegy we might produce a host of
specimens, had we space for them; but we must be contented
with a few. A very beautiful one of upward of fifty verses
adorns, in the shape of an epitaph, the tombstone of Abdul
Hadjadj Yussuf, one of the kings of Granada, who fell by the
hand of an assassin while in the act of prayer at the m osque,




39
It is quite symmetrical in its composition and commemorates
in many a pathetic distich the nobility, the virtues, the valor
and achievements of the deceased, and his untimely fate. A
few verses of it may suffice:
" In the flower of his manhood and at the zenith of his power he was made
to fall, like Omar, by the decrees of Heaven. There is no blade, no lance, on
which we can depend as a protection against the will of Allah, and every
one who builds upon the fleeting vanities of earth, will, undeceived, at last
perceive that he has built on sand. Therefore, O Ruler of the kingdom
which has no end; Thou, who commandest every one of us and predeterminest his lot, vouchsafe to spread the veil of thly benignity over all our
faults! For, without thy comnpassion we all would have to tremble before
our guilt. And lead the Emir of the Faithful, enveloped by the robe of thy
boundless Inercy, into the mansions of eternal bliss. True happiness and life
that never ends can only be found with thee, O Allah! The world is but
an evanescent show, which, as it deceives, destroys itself." (Von Schack,
vol. i., p. 213:.)
An elegy on his own blindness was composed by the unfortunate Abul M;akshi, who lived at the time of Abdurrahman I.,
and was most cruelly deprived of his eyes at the command of
Prince Suleiman for having in some verses addressed to him allowed himself some offensive allusions to his brother Hisham.  On
having finished his piece, the poet obtained  admission to the
caliph and recited his verses, by which, we are told, Abdurrahman was moved to tears, and gave him  two thousand dinars,
one thousand for each eye,-a compensation, to which Hisham
himself after his accession was so compassionate as t9 add an
equal amount (Journal Asiatique, 18.56, No. II., p. 476). Among,
the Moors themselves, the elegy composed by Ibn Abdun on
the fall of the dynasty of Badajoz was one of the most highly
prized, but it is too elaborate and artificial to be equally to
our taste. Amnong those which are really pathetic and sublime
we may again mention that on the decline of Islam  in Spain
already spoken of on page 34.  It is from  the pen of Abul
Beka Salih, and was occasioned by the taking of Cordova and
Seville by Ferdinand the Catholic.
Among all the compositions of this class, however, there is
perhaps nothing more beautiful and touching than the elegies
written during his imprisonment by El Motamid, the unfortunate emir of Seville, and we can therefore scarcely refrain from
reproducing a specimen or two  from  them.  But we have in
the first place to premise a word concerning the most romantic
life and adventures of this prince.
El MIotamid was a member of the glorious dynasty of the
Abbadides, which for a long time elevated Seville into rivalry




40
with the Cordova of the caliphate, and which in every respect
was one of the most brilliant centres of Moslem civilization in
the West. He was the son of El MIotadid, who commenced to
rule in 1043, —a cruel and most treacherous sybarite, but nevertheless a great amateur of poetry and himself a writer of verses.
In early youth El MIotamid was fonder of his enjoyments than
of his arms, and a culpable defeat before Malaga, where he had
been sent to fight, incensed the father so much, that the young
prince had no little difficulty in escaping friom his punishment
to Silves, where he then lived for some years in exile, until he
finally appeased the wrath of the offended parent by addressing
to him a number of poetical epistles.  He had, however, on
sooner succeeded to the throne, in 1069, than he not only at
once evinced a much nobler temper and a far greater poetical
talent than his father, but he also presently proved himself
much more of a warrior by the conquest of Cordova, which he
then added to his kingdom.
The first period of El Motamid's reign was one of the sunniest prosperity, and he was so brilliantly surrounded by every
thing in the shape of material and intellectual refinement, that
the historians of the West have almost as many anecdotes
to relate of it as those of the East have left us concerning the
life of Harun ar Rashid.
"' El Motamid," says Ibn Challikan, " was the most generous,
hospitable, magnanimous and powerful of all the princes of
Spain, and his court the most popular place of repose for travellers and the resort of talent of every kind; in a word, the
point upon which the hopes of all were centred, so that no
court of any other ruler of' that time could boast of being
frequented by an equal number of poets and men of learning."
And in all this El Motamid was far from being a mere Maecenas
or an idle spectator; his intellect was as alive and active as
any. It was during these halcyon days of his existence that
he improvised a series of poetical effusions, which in point of
natural ease and graceful elegance are not inferior to any of
his time, and of which his biographers have left us a minute
account. All of these pieces originated at some one of his favorite
places of resort, palaces in the city or on the river, such as
E1 MIubarak, El Mukarram, Az-Zoraya, Az-Zahi and several
others.
The first shadow cast upon this Eldorado life of El Motamid
was the tragical death of his son Abbad, whom  he had appoitnted governor of' Cordova, but only, it would seem, to lose
him in an insurrection led by Ibn Okasha, a native of the city.




41
The father was frantic and ordered the rebel to be nailed to the
cross (a punishment which some time before he had attempted
to inflict on a thief), suspecting but little how many additional
calamities he had yet before him, to which the present was
but the ominous prelude. About that time the cause of the
Christians had been making new advances, and Alphonso VI.
of Castile had succeeded in making all the Mohammedan
princes tributary to his power, El Motamid included. But
not content with the payment of tribute, Alphonso after a
while sent an embassy to Seville demanding of its king a surrender of his fortresses. This was too much for our El Motamid,
who in his indignation beat the ambassador and ordered his
companions executed. The outrage naturally gave rise to new
preparations for war, and the siege of Seville was contemplated. In this emergency the Moslem sheikhs, afraid of combating Alphonso's force alone, concluded to apply for aid to
Yussuf Ibn Tashfin, the king of Morocco, and in 1086 El Motamid himself went over, to be surer of success.  Yussuf
agreed, and at ornce collected a large force of cavalry and foot,
with which he shortly after won for his confederates a most
brilliant victory in the bloody battle of Zalaka (10S6), from
which Alphonso had a narrow escape. But Yussuf was as
treacherous as he was cruel and fanatical (he had sent the
heads of tens of thousands of slain Christians to the different
cities of Spain and Africa), and returned to Africa only to plot
treason against his allies on the other side. After a series of
preliminary manceuvres, in which he yet pretended to be El
MIotamid's friend, he finally threw off the mask completely, and
after the capture of fort Tarifa commanded himself proclaimed
master of Andalusia in 1090. He next took Cordova, in the
defense of which Mamun, one of El Motamid's sons, lost his
life, and then Seville, which its king defended only with the
loss of an additional son, and where he presently had to witness all his palaces devastated by the fanatically barbarous
enemy. El Motamid himself was taken prisoner with his entire
family and sent in chains to Africa, where he was doomed to
spend the remainder of his days in a dungeon at Agmat, a city
some distance southeast of Morocco. In this condition he remained until he was released by death in 1095. One of his
daughters was subsequently sold into slavery at Seville and one
of his grandsons became ajeweller somewhere else in Spain.
The keen reverses of fortune experienced by El Motamid
did not fail to produce a profound impression on his mind, and
he almost sunk beneath the weight of his afflictions. Yet he




42
endeavored to console himself, like a man of intellect and heart,
by giving vent to his grief in a series of poetical effusions which
we have already characterized as elegies, and which are yet
esteemed as among the most perfect of his nation's literature.
They generally link themselves either to some reminiscence of
his former life or to some incident of his imprisonment, of which
his biographers offer us a minute account.  A  flock of wild
pigeons, for example, passing by the window of his dungeon,
gave rise to the following reflections:
"As in my sorrow I witnessed the pigeons flying by Iny prisonr, I thought1
while tears descended from  my cheeks: ah, they are not in chains, are not
incarcerated, like myself! And, by the eternal heavens! I thought not so
from envy,-no, only from the desire of being free and happy like themselves, able to move about wherever I might wish; that hleaven might
grant methe boon of happier fortune like their own, and I not here in solitude might be obliged to languish in my chains, heart-broken and deserted.
Alas! these pigeons, who know no sorrow and whom no distance separates
from their kind,-they do not, like myself, pass dreary nights in terror, nor
is their mind disturbed with apprehensions, like my own, when the gaolers
approach my door and move the clattering bolt. Thus Fate has from
eternity decreed it over me, that I should end in prison. deprived of all the
dignity and splendor of my reign I Let whoever may, love life, loaded by
the weight of chains! As for myself, I can do nothing in my distress but
long most ardently for my deliverer in death. But as for you, dear pigeons,
may God protect you, and may no falcon rob you of your young, as they've
robbed me, whose anguish ever bleeds anew, when I reflect how ruthlessly
my dear ones have been torn from me."
On hearing one day, that one of his sons had headed a revolt in Andalusia against the robber on his father's throne, he
improvised the following:
" And must my sword-blade thus grow old without a blow, althouglh I
daily brandish it, eager for combat? And must my lance thus rust in indolent repose, instead of tasting red blood from the enemy, and thirst in vain
after its wonted drink? And shall the charger of the unhappy prince never
again foam underneath its rider?  No! it never will again obey my reins to
hurry me onward; for it has shuddering scent of enemies lurking concealed
in ambush. But, if none have pity on the sword, to satisfy its languid cravings for its drink; if it be fated that my polished lance-point shall grow
diseased from  shame, unable to endure its disgrace,-then mayst thou,
Mother Earth, at any rate soon have compassion on thy I)oor sorrow-stricken
son! Vouchsafe thy child a little place upon thy bosom, and let him in
the grave find ample repose t"
In one of these elegies, El MIotamid contrasts the clinking of
his chains with the music of the fair singers by which he once
was surrounded.  Il  another he laments over the loss of a
cherished son, and over the wretched  aspect of his daughters,
whom he perceives disfigured by hunger and in rags, obliged to
earn their livelihood by spinning  at Agmat-one even at the




43
house of some one formerly in  her father's service,  But on
these couplets we have no room here to dwell.  We will content ourselves with  a few more passages from  his lines to AzZahi, the superb and beautifully located palace on the Guadalquivir, where he had spent many a delightful hour:
"O'er me, the prisoner on Maghrib's strand, the orphaned throne of my
dear country weeps; so do the pulpits of the mosques in Spain weep over my
calamity. The sword and lance, which once I brandished high, are now
draped in deep mourning o'er their loss, and Fortnne, which on others smiles,
has fled from me...  0, were I, free firom chains, once more permitted to
see my home and its familiar retreats! 0, could I pass again, as formerly,
my nights along the rapid Guadalquivir, reposing in the olive-thicket near
the pond, while round me the soft evening-breezes dallied with the branches
of the myrtle and in its foliage the turtle-dove cooed her sweet song! And
that my eyes again might light upon Az-Zahi's and Zoraya's majestic piles I
Could they but see me, they would delighted stretch out their pinnacles, like
arms, to meet me, and my Az-Zahi would in eager haste long to embrace me,
as a grooil his bride! But all this now seems quite impossible to me, and
yet God sometimes works even the impossible."
Among El Motamid's cotemporaries we can scarcely omit
mentioning the equally talented and excentric adventurer Ibn
Amnimar, whom his genius raised from the obscurest origin to the
command of armies, the intimacy of princes, nay, to the eminence of princely rank itself. He was a poet of no ordinary
merit, although of a skeptical turn of mind; in succession the
confidential vizier, the ambassador, and chief commander at the
court of Seville, and for some time the royal governor of Silves,
but by his ambition misled into treason, and on that account
eventually murdered in prison by the  hand of El Motamid
himself.
In addition to the varieties of poetry thus far enumerated,
the different anthologies offer us several others of the minor
sort, such as epigrams, gnomic verses, apophthegms and inscriptions of every shade and hue, besides an immense number of
pieces that do not admit of definite classification. From these
we might select many a specimen of ingenuity or elegance, perhaps even many a literary curiosity, were our limits not already
passed.  To the drama and the epos the Moslems of the East
and West and of every period of their history remained almost
entire strangers, and even of the epic ballad or romanza, as it
existed in Christian Spain, and much earlier in northern Europe,
there is scarcely a real vestige to be found among them. And
the reason of this was not because there was no popular poetry
among them, but because the origin, the development and
genius of their poetry was a peculiar one and in fact entirely
sui generis.  As to the existence of a popular poetry, that is to




44
say, of a poetry of and for the masses and in the common dialect, and that of a very extensive otle, among  the Arabs of
Spain, there cannot be the slightest doubt; for not only, as we
have already seen, was even the peasant behind the plough ambitious to make verses, but there are also several distinct poetical
varieties or forms, such as the zadjal and the muwftshaha, wltich
are designated as peculiar to the people, and in which the poets
of the court not unfrequently wrote pieces destined for a wider
circulation among the millions at large.
Among the Moslem poets of Andalusia it is customary also
to include those of the north of Africa and of the islands,
especially of Sicily, where there was a large number, and some
of them  of considerable distinction. Such was, for example,
Ibn Hamdis of Syracuse, from  the eleventh century, one of El
Motamid's friends, and the author of a great variety of pieces of
far more than ordinary merit, among others of several long
kassidas inscribed by way of ornament upon the walls and
ceilings of one of Prince Almansur's superb palaces at Bugeia.
Blind and unfortunate in his old age, he compared himself to
the eagle no longer able to fly, and to whom  his young are
obliged to fetch his nourishment.  To the name of Ibn Ilamdis
we may add, as likewise of Sicily, those of Ibn Tubi, IbTn Tazi,
B3ellanobi, Abul Arab, Ibn I(affa, Ibn Omar, Ibn Daw, and
Abdurrahman of Trapani. The entire number of Western poets,
of whom Von Hammer-Purgstall has given biographical notices
with specimens of their writings in the fifth, sixth and seventh
volumes of his history, amounts to upward of three hundred and
thirty.
One of the most prominent and striking peculiarities of the
poetry of the Arabs both of the East and West is, as we have
already observed, its originality.  it developed itself from the
outset entirely out of its own resources, and never at any period
of its history did it become subject to any foreign influences
whatsoever.  To such an extent is this so, that one of their
most learned and cleverest writers, Ibn Chaldun, probably only
repeats hearsay, when in his chapter on Arabic poetry he alludes
to that of the Persians and the Greeks and speaks of Aristotle as
mentioning and praising Homer. It is true, that the Arabs have
enjoyed the reputation of having known the Greeks at a time
when elsewhere in Europe they were entirely forgotten, but
their knowledge was confined almost exclusively to philosophical and strictly scientific works, and these even they derived
not fromn the original, but from solme Syriac translations at their
coin inand. In every other respect, that is to say, in every thing
W                                      O




relating to the history, mythology and poetry of other nations
they exhibited the most astonishing ignorance. What wonder
then, that a philosopher of no less eminence than Averro/is
should in his paraphrase of Aristotle's Poetics substitute the
names of Antar, Amrulkais, Montenebb., &c., in place of those
of Homer, Euripides and Sophocles, andl that he should have so
little conception of the character of Greek literature as to define tragedy " the art to praise," and comedy " the art to
blame," and upon the basis of this monstrous assumption to
claim  for the panegyric and satirical kassidas of his nation a
place by the side of the high tragedies and comedies of the
old Greeks?! Nevertheless, however true it may be, that the
Arabs on account of their adherence to their own antecedents
and their neglect to learn from others, should have entirely failed
in the highest forms of poetry, it is yet equally undeniable that
in those forms which they cultivated and developed among themselves, which we have seen to be the lyrical, they really rose to
a very high degree of perfection, and that they have left us
gems and flowers without number, which will lose nothing in
comparison with any other of their kind, either ancient or
modern.
The question concerning the influence of the Arabs on the
poetical literature of the South has occupied the historians and
critics for a great while, some claiming nearly every thing,
even the rhyme, derived from them, while others are disposed
to credit them with nothing whatsoever. The truth lies doubtless somewhere between the two extremes. For while on the
one hand we can not evade admitting the existence of a long
protracted, if not an intimate, contact between the two civilizations upon the soil of Spain and Sicily, however hostile they
otherwise were, especially in respect to religion, and a contact
that extended itself to every class of society, it is on the other
hand no less manifest that the Christian poetry of the Provencals,
of Spain and Italy has every characteristic of a distinct individuality, and of one which can only be accounted for by assuming
it to be an original and inherent one. Let us adduce a few
facts of the case:
Although the Christian authors of Spain of every century
are but too prone to pronounce judgment in reference to the
Moors indicative of the grossest ignorance, denouncing even
their scientific men as necromancers in league with the devil,
and contributing in every way to fan the religious hate which
formed one of the most deeply rooted characteristics of both
parties, it is yet equally evident that a large number of Chris



46
tians of every rank and in every part of Spain found in the natural course of events better opportunity to judge of their antagonists, and that in many instances they had occasion to be
rather favorably than otherwise impressed by them. In many
cases (and these in the course of centuries must have been quite
frequent), in which sections of Christian population were conquered or led captive, and mildly treated, the natural result
was free, if not friendly, intercourse, and this often lasted so
long that many of them learned not only to speak, but even to
read and write the Arabic, and to compose verses in it, while on
the other hand the unfortunate Moriscos must to some extent
have likewise found opportunity to make known their language
and perhaps now and then also their poetry among their conquerors. Sometimes the conquered Christians were free to the
extent of complete religious toleration.   At different times
many of them served in the army of the caliphs or kings, while
others occupied lucrative places at court or in the palaces of
Moslem nobles. Under these circumstances it is not surprising that the refined culture of the Arabs should occasionally attract them likewise to its circle, and that after a while the more
educated among them should despise their unwieldy dialect,
the rustic Latin or Romansh, and apply themselves with avidity
to the language of their masters. Such was the case as early
as the ninth century, if we may credit Alvaro, the bishop of
Cordova, who complains bitterly of it as a great calamity to the
church.   "Many of my religious cotemporaries read the
poetry and the tales of the Arabs, and study the writings of the
Mohammedan theologians and philosophers, not to refute them,
but in order to learn how to express themselves with correctness
and elegance in the language...   All the young men, who
are noted for some talent, know but the language and literature
of the Arabs; they read and study Arabic books with avidity;
nay they even go to enormous expense in collecting libraries of
them and every where declare the literature to be a most admirable one....  Many have even forgotten their own language, and there is scarcely one in a thousand amongst us, who
knows how to write a tolerable Latin letter to a friend, while
scores of them can express themselves most elegantly in the
Arabic, and even con;pose poems in this language better than
the Arabs themselves." Of poems of this description there are
yet some vestiges extant, and we also know that in Andalusia
the Latin was at one time so far neglected that Archbishop John
of Seville found it necessary to translate the Bible into the
Arabic. Nevertheless we must not imagine that this was the




47
case every where; the rustica or Romansh continued to exist
quite generally as the idiom of the people, with which in their
turn then the Arabs were likewise sometimes familiar. It is
needless to multiply examples; it is not necessary to remind
ourselves of characters like the redoubted champion, the Cid,
who fought alternately under kings of both parties, although
always claimed faithful to one, and who was doubtless familiar
not only with the language but with every thing relating to the
civilization of his ally-opponents; we have evidence enough to
prove that Christian Spain was not beyond the reach of some
influence  from  so  conspicuous and popular an element of
Moslem culture as was their poetry. In Sicily the contact,
although later, is yet equally apparent, at least as long as Frederic II. and his son Manfred kept imperial court upon the island.
Frederic was from early youth familiar with the Arabic, the
friend and munificent patron of high scientific culture in general,
surrounded by men of science and letters from all parts and of
every sort, of which, we are expressly told, quite a number, if not
the majority, were Arabs, and some troubadours from the South
of France. Now Frederic was not only himself an amateur of
poetry, but he enjoys the fame of having introduced the Provencals upon Sicilian soil and of having thus founded there a school
which at a little later date merged itself into the Italian; and how
could a prince of Frederic's taste and society remain a stranger to
the poetry and the poets of a nation, in which in other respects
he found so much to appreciate, and on a spot where the superbest architectural monuments were  considered  ornamented
by inscriptions from the hand of genius? But besides all this,
we have evidence of even a direct influence of the Arabic
element upon the old Spanish or Castilian in a number of popular pieces which have been shown to be refusions of Arabic
zadja/s and muwashahas yet extant. Any farther than this,
however, the influence of the Arabs has not, and in all probability can not, be proven, and we must therefore assume it to
have been much more of an indirect and general than of a special
or radical one. The poetry of the South of France, of Spain
and Italy is therefore nevertheless far from being a borrowed or
ingrafted one; it originated and matured on an essentially different ground, is the expression of a distinct circle of ideas, and
in point of both form and substance bears the imprint of a profoundly marked individuality.