Historical Tales, Volume VII | Page 6

which lay a scroll of parchment. From this one of his scribes
read the following words:

"Whenever this asylum is violated and the spell contained in this urn
broken, the people shown in the picture shall invade the land and
overturn the throne of its kings. The rule of the Goths shall end and the
whole country fall into the hands of heathen strangers."
King Roderic looked again with eyes of alarm on the pictured forms.
Well he knew their meaning. The turban-wearers were Arabians, their
horses the famous steeds of the desert; the bare-headed barbarians were
Berbers or Moors. Already they threatened the land from Africa's
shores; he had broken the spell which held them back; the time for the
fulfilment of the prophecy was at hand.
Filled with sudden terror, the rash invader hurried from the chamber of
the talisman, his courtiers flying with wild haste to the open air. The
brazen gates were closed with a clang which rang dismally through the
empty rooms, and the lock of the king was fixed upon them. But it was
too late. The voice of destiny had spoken and the fate of the kingdom
been revealed, and all the people looked upon Don Roderic as a
doomed man.
We have given this legend in its mildest form. Some Arab writers
surround it with magical incidents until it becomes a tale worthy of the
"Arabian Nights' Entertainments." They speak of two ancient men with
snowy beards who kept the keys of the gate and opened the locks only
at Roderic's stern command. When the locks were removed no one
could stir the gates until the hand of the king touched them, when they
sprang open of themselves. Inside stood a huge bronze giant with a
club of steel, with which he dealt resounding blows on the floor to right
and left. He desisted at the king's command, and the train entered
unharmed. In the magic chamber they found a golden casket containing
a linen cloth between tablets of brass. On this were painted figures of
Arabs in armor. As they gazed these began to move, sounds of war
were heard, and the vision of a battle between Arab and Christian
warriors passed before the affrighted eyes of the intruders. The
Christian army was defeated, and Roderic saw the image of himself in
flight, and finally of his horse without a rider. As he rushed in terror
from the fatal room the bronze giant was no longer to be seen and the

ancient guardians of the gate lay dead upon their posts. In the end the
tower was burned by magic fire, and its very ashes were scattered by
the wings of an innumerable flight of birds.

THE BATTLE OF THE GUADALETE.
The legends just given are full of the pith of facts. Dread of Africa lay
deep in the Spanish heart and gave point to these and other magical and
romantic tales. The story of how the great conqueror, Mohammed, had
come out from the deserts of Arabia and sent his generals, sword and
Koran in hand, to conquer the world, had spread far to the east and the
west, and brought terror wherever it came. From Arabia the Moslem
hordes had swept through Egypt and along the African coast to the
extremity of Morocco. They now faced Spain and coveted that rich and
populous land. Well might the degenerate sons of the Goths fear their
coming and strive to keep them out with talismans and spells.
Years before, in the days of good King Wamba, a great Mohammedan
fleet had ravaged the Andalusian coast. Others came, not for conquest,
but for spoil. But at length all North Africa lay under the Moslem yoke,
and Musa Ibn Nasseyr, the conqueror of the African tribes, cast eyes of
greed upon Spain and laid plans for the subjugation to Arab rule of that
far-spreading Christian land.
Africa, he was told, was rich, but Spain was richer. Its soil was as
fertile as that of Syria, its climate as mild and sweet as that of Araby
the Blest. The far-famed mines of distant Cathay did not equal it in
wealth of minerals and gems; nowhere else were such harbors, nowhere
such highlands and plains. The mountain-ranges, beautiful to see,
enclosed valleys of inexhaustible fertility. It was a land "plentiful in
waters, renowned for their sweetness and clearness,"--Andalusia's
noble streams. Famous monuments graced its towns: the statue of
Hercules at Cadiz, the idol of Galicia, the stately ruins of Merida and
Tarragona. It was a realm the conquest of which would bring wealth
and fame,--great glory to the sons of Allah and great treasure to the
successors of the Prophet. Musa determined upon its invasion.

A traitor came to his aid. Count Julian was governor of Ceuta,