Having regulated the civil affairs of his government to his satisfaction, the eyes of Anbasah now turned towards the North, where lay the tempting prize of France, coveted by every emir since the time of Musa. The prestige of the Arabs had been materially impaired by the serious reverse they had sustained before Toulouse. The first encounter with the fiery warriors of the South whom fear had pictured as incarnate demons, and whose prowess was said to be invincible, had divested the foes of Christianity of many of the terrors which exaggerated rumor had imparted to them. Of the numerous fortified places in Septimania which had once seemed to be pledges of a permanent Mohammedan settlement, the city of Narbonne alone remained. Its massive walls had easily resisted the ill-directed efforts of a barbarian enemy, unprovided with military engines, and unaccustomed to the protracted and monotonous service implied by a siege, while its vicinity to the sea rendered a reduction by blockade impracticable. Thus, protected by the natural advantages of its location and by the courage of its garrison, Narbonne presented the anomaly of an isolated stronghold in the midst of the enemy’s country. Traversing the mountainous passes without difficulty the Emir took Carcassonne, a city which had hitherto enjoyed immunity from capture; and by this bold stroke so intimidated the inhabitants, that the whole of Septimania at once, and without further resistance, returned to its allegiance to the Khalif. No retribution was exacted for past disloyalty, as Anbasah was too politic not to appreciate the value of clemency in a province held by such a precarious tenure; the people were left as before to the untrammelled exercise of their worship; but the unpaid tribute was rigorously collected, and a large number of hostages, chosen from the noblest families of the Goths, were sent to Spain.