Ishmael
by
After the death of Gregory the Great, Christianity seemed to have conquered all Europe which was known at the time, and also Byzantium, Palestine, Egypt, and the north coast of Africa. The conqueror was about to betake himself to rest, when a quite new and unexpected event happened which threatened Christendom with destruction and heralded the arrival of a new race upon the scene. Ishmael’s descendants, Abraham’s illegitimate sons, who had wandered in the deserts, seeming to continue the Israelites’ wandering in the wilderness, began to collect in troops and seek a Promised Land.
Six years after Gregory’s death, the Prophet Muhammed, then forty years old, was “awakened.” His armies spread like a conflagration, and a hundred years later, Christian Europe thought the last day had come. The countries first conquered by Christianity–Syria, Palestine, Asia Minor, Egypt, and North Africa–had fallen away and done homage to the new Antichrist. Byzantium was threatened; Sicily and Sardinia had been taken, and Italy was in danger.
From the southernmost point of Spain one could see in clear weather the coast of Africa, where the Saracens dwelt. Spain was a country which, somewhat remote from Rome, had grown and developed into one of the richest provinces, after Phoenicians and Carthaginians had laid the foundations of her civilisation. But when Rome fell into decay, Barbarians from the Baltic sea belonging to the new German races, whose advent had been foretold by Tacitus, poured into Spain, founded a kingdom or two, and now at the beginning of the eighth century, possessed the important cities Toledo and Seville.
* * * * *
In Seville, on the Guadalquivir, in the beautiful province of Andalusia, the old Jew Eleazar sat in the shop where he sold weapons, and counted his day’s takings.
“Many weapons are sold in these days,” was the sudden remark of a stranger who had stepped up to the counter.
Eleazar looked up, liked the appearance of the well-dressed stranger, and answered cautiously, “Yes, certainly, many are sold.”
“Are you expecting war?”
“There is always war here–especially verbal warfare.”
“You refer to the twenty Church Councils which have been held here. The Christians are never united.”
Eleazar did not answer.
“Excuse me,” continued the stranger, “but I forgot who you are, and that you would rather forget the last Council.”
“No, not at all! why should I?”
“It was directed against your people.”
“And my only son, who was about to marry a Christian maiden, had to give her up, since marriages with Jews were forbidden….”
“Well! and what was the end of it?”
“He could not survive it, but laid hands on himself, and, as she followed him in death, the blame was laid on us, and we lost our property and freedom.”
“Eleazar!” exclaimed the stranger. “Don’t you know me?”
“No.”
“But when I tell you my name, you will know who I am. Julius–Count Julius….”
“Are you–Count Julius?”
“I am he, whose daughter Florinda was brought up in Toledo, and fell into the hands of King Roderick, the robber and lecher. Can I see you in your chamber? We have much to say to each other!”
Eleazar hesitated, although both, as injured fathers of lost children, had much in common. He was afraid of the Christians, who had begun to persecute the Jews. The Count understood that, but did not withdraw his proposal, for he seemed to have a special object in his visit.
“Let me into your chamber, and I will tell you, in three words, a secret that concerns us both.”
Eleazar did not yield, but began to parley.
“Say one word, a single word to convince me,” he asked.
“Oppas! there is one for you.”
Eleazar opened his eyes, but asked for yet another one.
“Zijad’s son.” “Still better!” said Eleazar, “but now the last!”
“Bar-coch-ba.”
Eleazar reached him his hand. “Come under my roof, eat of my bread, and drink of the sacred wine.” In a moment the shop was closed, and the two elderly men sat at supper in the room behind it. They conversed eagerly.