This simple code would not have sufficed had not the unlimited authority exercised by fathers over their children, and husbands over their wives, supplied the deficiencies of the laws. With regard to this implicit obedience on the part of a family to the will of its chief, the Moors preserved the ancient patriarchal customs of their ancestors. Every father possessed, under his own roof, rights nearly equal to those of the caliph. He decided, without appeal, the quarrels of his wives and those of his sons: he punished with severity the slightest faults, and even possessed the power of punishing certain crimes with death. Age alone conferred this supremacy. An old man was always an object of reverence. His presence arrested disorders: the most haughty young man cast down his eyes at meeting him, and listened patiently to his reproofs. In short, the possessor of a white beard { 78} was everywhere invested with the authority of a magistrate.
This authority, which was more powerful among the Moors than that of their laws, long subsisted unimpaired at Cordova. That the wise Hacchem did nothing to enfeeble it, may be judged from the following illustration.
A poor woman of Zahra possessed a small field contiguous to the gardens of the caliph. El Hacchem, wishing to erect a pavilion there, directed that the owner should be requested to dispose of it to him. But the woman refused every remuneration that was offered her, and declared that she would never sell the heritage of her ancestry. The king was, doubtless, not informed of the obstinacy of this woman; but the superintendent of the palace gardens, a minister worthy of a despotic sovereign, forcibly seized upon the field, and the pavilion was built. The poor woman hastened in despair to Cordova, to relate the story of her misfortune to the Cadi Bechir, and to consult him respecting the course she should pursue. The cadi thought that the Prince of true Believers had no more right than any other man to possess himself by violence of the property of another; and he endeavoured to { 79} discover some means of recalling to his recollection a truth which the best of rulers will sometimes forget.
One day, as the Moorish sovereign was surrounded by his court in the beautiful pavilion built on the ground belonging to the poor woman, the Cadi Bechir presented himself before him, seated on an ass, and carrying in his hand a large sack. The astonished caliph demanded his errand. "Prince of the Faithful!" replied Bechir, "I come to ask permission of thee to fill this sack with the earth upon which thou standest." The caliph cheerfully consented to this desire, and the cadi filled his sack with the earth. He then left it standing, and, approaching his sovereign, entreated him to crown his goodness by aiding him in loading his ass with its burden. El Hacchem, amused by the request, yielded to it, and attempted to raise the sack. Scarcely able to move it, he let it fall again, and, laughing, complained of its enormous weight. "Prince of Believers!" said Bechir then, with impressive gravity, "this sack, which thou findest so heavy, contains, nevertheless, but a small portion of the field thou hast usurped from one of thy subjects; how wilt thou sustain the weight { 80} of this entire field when thou shalt appear in the presence of the Great Judge charged with this iniquity?" The caliph, struck with this address, embraced the cadi, thanked him, acknowledged his fault, and immediately restored to the poor woman the field of which she had been despoiled, together with the pavilion and everything it contained.