done, indeed, in profound secrecy; the fact, I suspect, remained some
little time unknown; and for years after there was no certainty as to the
way it was performed. Years elapsed even before the world suspected the
foul blot upon Tyrell's knighthood, and he enjoyed the favor both of
Richard and of his successor; but at last the truth came out.
As to the other agents in the business, various entries in the Patent
Rolls, and in the Docket Book of King Richard's grants, show that they
did not pass unrewarded. Before the murder Green had been appointed
comptroller of the customs at Boston, and had also been employed to
provide horse meat and litter for the King's stables; afterward, if we
may trust a note by Strype--but I own I cannot find his authority--he
was advanced to be receiver of the Isle of Wight and of the castle and
lordship of Portchester. To Dighton was granted the office of bailiff of
Ayton in Staffordshire. Forest died soon after, and it appears he was
keeper of the wardrobe at Barnard castle, but whether appointed before
or after the murder there is no evidence to show. Brackenbury received
several important grants, some of which were of lands of the late Lord
Rivers.
And yet hitherto Richard's life, though not unmarked by violence, had
been free from violence to his own flesh and blood. Even his most
unjustifiable measures were somewhat in the nature of self-defence; or if
in any case he had stained his hands with the blood of persons absolutely
innocent, it was not in his own interest, but in that of his brother,
Edward IV. The rough and illegal retribution which he dealt out to
Rivers, Vaughan, Hawte, Lord Richard Grey, and Lord Hastings was not more
severe than perhaps law itself might have authorized. The disorders of
civil war had accustomed the nation to see justice sometimes executed
without the due formalities; and his neglect of those formalities had
not hitherto made him unpopular. But the license of unchecked power is
dangerous, no less to those who wield than to those who suffer it; and it
was peculiarly so to one of Richard's violent and impatient temper. He
had been allowed so far to act upon his own arbitrary judgment or will
that expediency was fast becoming his only motive and extinguishing
within him both humanity and natural affection.
Nevertheless, he was not yet sunk so low as to regard his own unnatural
conduct with indifference. Deep and bitter remorse deprived him of all
that tranquillity in the possession of power for the attainment of which
he had imbrued his hands in blood. "I have heard by credible report,"
says Sir Thomas More, "of such as were secret with his chamberers, that
after this abominable deed done he never had quiet in his mind, he never
thought himself sure. Where he went abroad, his eyes whirled about, his
body privily fenced, his hand ever on his dagger, his countenance and
manner like one always ready to strike again. He took ill rest at nights,
lay long waking and musing; sore wearied with care and watch, he rather
slumbered than slept. Troubled with fearful dreams, suddenly sometimes
started he up, leapt out of his bed and ran about the chamber. So was his
restless heart continually tossed and tumbled with the tedious impression
and stormy remembrance of his most abominable deed."
Such was the awful retribution that overtook this inhuman King during the
two short years that he survived his greatest crime, till the battle of
Bosworth completed the measure of his punishment. His repentance came too
late.
CONQUEST OF GRANADA
A.D. 1490
WASHINGTON IRVING
Although the Moors held Spain for over seven hundred and fifty years,
they never had possession of the entire country. In the North, fragments
of the Visigothic Christian kingdoms survived, and at length these grew
into a strong power destined to drive out the Arabs, who had so long made
the Spanish peninsula a seat of Mahometan civilization.
The Moorish power reached its height in the tenth century, and gradually
declined in the eleventh, when it broke up into petty and short-lived
kingdoms. The Almoravides from Africa began their rule in Spain about
1090. This dynasty was overthrown by the Almohades in 1145, and the
latter became extinct in Spain in 1257.
After the disruption of the realm of the Almohades, the Moorish kingdom
of Granada was established, and was held in vassalage to Castile, of
which Ferdinand and Isabella, in 1474, became joint sovereigns. The Moors
made Granada, their capital, a large and powerful city, and there in the
thirteenth century they built their magnificent palace and citadel, the
Alhambra, the finest example of Moorish architecture and decorative art.
In 1482, having prepared themselves for what proved a final struggle with
the Moors, Ferdinand and Isabella began the war against Boabdil, the King
of Granada, who the year before had seized the throne from his father,
Muley Hasan. After some early reverses and later interruptions--during
which the wavering Ferdinand was held to his purpose by the rebukes
and encouragement of his stout-hearted Queen--the Christian sovereigns
reduced the strongholds of the Moors, until by 1490 the more important
half of the kingdom of Granada had been conquered. The city and its
small surrounding district alone remained to Boabdil. On April 23, 1491,
Ferdinand and Isabella encamped before Granada with fifty thousand foot
soldiers and ten thousand horse, and the last contest began.
Though Granada was shorn of its glories, and nearly cut off from all
external aid, still its mighty castles and massive bulwarks seemed to set
all attacks at defiance. Being the last retreat of Moorish power, it had
assembled within its walls the remnants of the armies that had contended,
step by step, with the invaders, in their gradual conquest of the land.
All that remained of high-born and high-bred chivalry was here; all that
was loyal and patriotic was roused to activity by the common danger; and
Granada, that had so long been lulled into inaction by vain hopes of
security, now assumed a formidable aspect in the hour of its despair.
Ferdinand saw that any attempt to subdue the city by main force would be
perilous and bloody. Cautious in his policy, and fond of conquests gained
by art rather than valor, he determined to reduce the place by famine.
For this purpose, his armies penetrated into the very heart of the
Alpujarras, and ravaged the valleys and sacked and burned the towns upon
which the city depended for its supplies. Scouting parties, also,
ranged the mountains behind Granada and captured every casual convoy of
provisions. The Moors became more daring as their situation became more
hopeless. Never had Ferdinand experienced such vigorous sallies and
assaults. Musa[1], at the head of his cavalry, harassed the borders of
the camp, and even penetrated into the interior, making sudden spoil and
ravage, and leaving his course to be traced by the slain and wounded.
To protect his camp from these assaults, Ferdinand fortified it with deep
trenches and strong bulwarks. It was of a quadrangular form, divided into
streets like a city, the troops being quartered in tents, and in booths
constructed of bushes and branches of trees. When it was completed, Queen
Isabella came in state, with all her court, and the Prince and Princess,
to be present at the siege. This was intended to reduce the besieged to
despair by showing the determination of the sovereigns to reside in the
camp until the city should surrender. Immediately after her arrival, the
Queen rode forth to survey the camp and its environs: wherever she went
she was attended by a splendid retinue; and all the commanders vied with
each other in the pomp and ceremony with which they received her. Nothing
was heard, from morning until night, but shouts and acclamations and
bursts of martial music; so that it appeared to the Moors as if a
continual festival and triumph reigned in the Christian camp.
The arrival of the Queen, however, and the menaced obstinacy of the siege
had no effect in damping the fire of the Moorish chivalry. Musa inspired
the youthful warriors with the most devoted heroism. "We have nothing
left to fight for," said he, "but the ground we stand on; when this is
lost, we cease to have a country and a name."
Finding the Christian King forbore to make an attack, Musa incited his
cavaliers to challenge the youthful chivalry of the Christian army to
single combat or partial skirmishes. Scarce a day passed without gallant
conflicts of the kind, in sight of the city and the camp. The combatants
rivalled each other in the splendor of their armor and array, as well as
in the prowess of their deeds. Their contests were more like the stately
ceremonials of tilts and tournaments than the rude conflicts of the
field. Ferdinand soon perceived that they animated the fiery Moors with
fresh zeal and courage, while they cost the lives of many of his bravest
cavaliers; he again, therefore, forbade the acceptance of any individual
challenges, and ordered that all partial encounters should be avoided.
The cool and stern policy of the Catholic sovereign bore hard upon the
generous spirits of either army, but roused the indignation of the Moors
when they found that they were to be subdued in this inglorious manner.
"Of what avail," said they, "are chivalry and heroic valor? The crafty
monarch of the Christians has no magnanimity in warfare; he seeks to
subdue us through the weakness of our bodies, but shuns to encounter the
courage of our souls."
When the Moorish knights beheld that all courteous challenges were
unavailing, they sought various means to provoke the Christian warriors
to the field. Sometimes a body of them, fleetly mounted, would gallop up
to the skirts of the camp, and try who should hurl his lance farthest
within the barriers, having his name inscribed upon it, or a label
affixed to it containing some taunting defiance. These bravadoes caused
great irritation, but still the Spanish warriors were restrained by the
prohibition of the King.
Among the Moorish cavaliers was one named Yarfe, renowned for his great
strength and daring spirit; but whose courage partook of fierce audacity
rather than chivalric heroism. In one of these sallies, when they
were skirting the Christian camp, this arrogant Moor outstripped his
companions, overleaped the barriers, and, galloping close to the royal
quarters, launched his lance so far within that it remained quivering
in the earth close by the pavilions of the sovereigns. The royal guards
rushed forth in pursuit, but the Moorish horsemen were already beyond the
camp, and scouring in a cloud of dust for the city. Upon wresting the
lance from the earth, a label was found upon it importing that it was
intended for the Queen.
Nothing could equal the indignation of the Christian warriors at the
insolence of the bravado and the discourteous insult offered to the
Queen. Hernando Perez del Pulgar, surnamed "he of the exploits," was
present, and resolved not to be outbraved by this daring infidel. "Who
will stand by me," said he, "in an enterprise of desperate peril?" The
Christian cavaliers well knew the harebrained valor of Hernando del
Pulgar, yet not one hesitated to step forward. He chose fifteen
companions, all men of powerful arm and dauntless heart. In the dead
of the night he led them forth from the camp, and approached the city
cautiously, until he arrived at a postern-gate, which opened upon the
Darro and was guarded by foot-soldiers. The guards, little thinking of
such an unwonted and partial attack, were for the most part asleep.
The gate was forced, and a confused and chance-medley skirmish ensued;
Hernando del Pulgar stopped not to take part in the affray; putting spurs
to his horse, he galloped furiously through the streets, striking fire
out of the stones at every bound. Arrived at the principal mosque, he
sprang from his horse, and, kneeling at the portal, took possession of
the edifice as a Christian chapel, dedicating it to the blessed Virgin.
In testimony of the ceremony, he took a tablet which he had brought with
him, on which was inscribed in large characters "Ave Marie," and nailed
it to the door of the mosque with his dagger. This done, he remounted his
steed and galloped back to the gate. The alarm had been given--the city
was in an uproar--soldiers were gathering from every direction. They were
astonished at seeing a Christian warrior galloping from the interior of
the city. Hernando del Pulgar overturned some, cut down others, rejoined
his companions, who still maintained possession of the gate by dint of
hard fighting, and all made good their retreat to the camp. The Moors
were at a loss to imagine the meaning of this wild and apparently
fruitless assault; but great was their exasperation, on the following
day, when the trophy of hardihood and prowess, the "_Ave Maria_" was
discovered thus elevated in bravado in the very centre of the city.
The mosque thus boldly sanctified by Hernando del Pulgar was actually
consecrated into a cathedral after the capture of Granada.
The royal encampment lay at such a distance from Granada that the general
aspect of the city only could be seen as it rose gracefully from the
vega, covering the sides of the hills with palaces and towers. Queen
Isabella had expressed an earnest desire to behold, nearer at hand, a
city whose beauty was so renowned throughout the world; and the Marquis
of Cadiz, with the accustomed courtesy, prepared a great military escort
and guard to protect the Queen and the ladies of the court while they
enjoyed this perilous gratification.
A magnificent and powerful train issued forth from the Christian camp.
The advance guard was composed of legions of cavalry, heavily armed,
that looked like moving masses of polished steel. Then came the King
and Queen, with the Prince and Princess and the ladies of the court,
surrounded by the royal bodyguard, sumptuously arrayed, composed of
the sons of the most illustrious houses of Spain; after these was the
rearguard, composed of a powerful force of horse and foot; for the
flower of the army sallied forth that day. The Moors gazed with fearful
admiration at this glorious pageant, wherein the pomp of the court was
mingled with the terrors of the camp. It moved along in a radiant line,
across the vega, to the melodious thunders of martial music; while banner
and plume and silken scarf and rich brocade gave a gay and gorgeous
relief to the grim visage of iron war that lurked beneath.
The army moved toward the hamlet of Zubia, built on the skirts of the
mountain to the left of Granada, and commanding a view of the Alhambra
and the most beautiful quarter of the city. As they approached the hamlet
the Marquis of Villena, the count Ureña, and Don Alonzo de Aguilar filed
off with their battalions, and were soon seen glittering along the side
of the mountain above the village. In the mean time the Marquis of Cadiz,
the Count de Tendilla, the Count de Cabra, and Don Alonzo Fernandez,
Senior of Alcandrete and Montemayor, drew up their forces in battle array
on the plain below the hamlet, presenting a living barrier of loyal
chivalry between the sovereigns and the city. Thus securely guarded, the
royal party alighted, and, entering one of the houses of the hamlet,
which had been prepared for their reception, enjoyed a full view of the
city from its terraced roof.
While grim tranquillity prevailed along the Christian line, there rose a
mingled shout and sound of laughter near the gate of the city. A Moorish
horseman, armed at all points, issued forth, followed by a rabble, who
drew back as he approached the scene of danger. The Moor was more robust
and brawny than was common with his countrymen. His visor was closed; he
bore a huge buckler and a ponderous lance; his cimeter was of a Damascus
blade, and his richly ornamented dagger was wrought by an artificer
of Fez. He was Yarfe, the most insolent, yet valiant, of the Moslem
warriors. As he rode slowly along in front of the army, his very steed,
prancing with fiery eye and distended nostril, seemed to breathe defiance
to the Christians.
But what were the feelings of the Spanish cavaliers when they beheld,
tied to the tail of his steed, and dragged in the dust, the inscription
"Ave Maria," which Hernando Perez del Pulgar had affixed to the door of
the mosque! A burst of horror and indignation broke forth from the
army. Hernando del Pulgar was not at hand, but one of his young
companions-in-arms, Garcilasso de la Vega by name, putting spurs to his
horse, galloped to the hamlet of Zubia, threw himself on his knees before
the King, and besought permission to accept the defiance of this insolent
infidel and to revenge the insult offered to our blessed Lady. The
request was too pious to be refused; Garcilasso remounted his steed; he
closed his helmet, graced by four sable plumes, grasped his buckler of
Flemish workmanship and his lance of matchless temper, and defied the
haughty Moor in the midst of his career.
A combat took place in view of the two armies and of the Castilian court.
The Moor was powerful in wielding his weapons and dexterous in managing
his steed. He was of larger frame than Garcilasso and more completely
armed; and the Christians trembled for their champion. The shock of their
encounter was dreadful; their lances were shivered and sent up splinters
in the air. Garcilasso was thrown back in the saddle--his horse made a
wild career before he could recover, gather up the reins, and return
to the conflict. They now encountered each other with swords. The Moor
circled round his opponent as hawk circles whereabout to make a swoop;
his Arabian steed obeyed his rider with matchless quickness; at every
attack of the infidel it seemed as if the Christian knight must sink
beneath his flashing cimeter. But if Garcilasso were inferior to him in
power, he was superior in agility; many of his blows he parried; others
he received upon his Flemish shield, which was proof against the Damascus
blade. The blood streamed from numerous wounds received by either
warrior.
The Moor, seeing his antagonist exhausted, availed himself of his
superior force, and, grappling, endeavored to wrest him from his saddle.
They both fell to earth; the Moor placed his knee upon the breast of his
victim, and, brandishing his dagger, aimed a blow at his throat. A cry of
despair was uttered by the Christian warriors, when suddenly they beheld
the Moor rolling lifeless in the dust. Garcilasso had shortened his
sword, and, as his adversary raised his arm to strike, had pierced him to
the heart.
The laws of chivalry were observed throughout the combat--no one
interfered on either side. Garcilasso now despoiled his adversary;
then, rescuing the holy inscription of "Ave Maria" from its degrading
situation, he elevated it on the point of his sword, and bore it off as a
signal of triumph amid the rapturous shouts of the Christian army.
The sun had now reached the meridian, and the hot blood of the Moors was
inflamed by its rays and by the sight of the defeat of their champion.
Musa ordered two pieces of ordnance to open a fire upon the Christians.
A confusion was produced in one part of their ranks. Musa called to the
chiefs of the army: "Let us waste no more time in empty challenges; let
us charge upon the enemy; he who assaults has always an advantage in the
combat." So saying, he rushed forward, followed by a large body of
horse and foot, and charged so furiously upon the advance guard of the
Christians that he drove it in upon the battalion of the Marquis of
Cadiz.
The gallant Marquis now gave the signal to attack. "Santiago!" was
shouted along the line; and he pressed forward to the encounter, with
his battalion of twelve hundred lances. The other cavaliers followed his
example, and the battle instantly became general.
When the King and Queen beheld the armies thus rushing to the combat,
they threw themselves on their knees and implored the holy Virgin to
protect her faithful warriors. The Prince and Princess, the ladies of the
court, and the prelates and friars who were present did the same; and
the effect of the prayers of these illustrious and saintly persons was
immediately apparent. The fierceness with which the Moors had rushed to
the attack had suddenly cooled; they were bold and adroit for a skirmish,
but unequal to the veteran Spaniards in the open field. A panic seized
upon the foot-soldiers--they turned and took to flight. Musa and his
cavaliers in vain endeavored to rally them. Some took refuge in the
mountains; but the greater part fled to the city in such confusion that
they overturned and trampled upon each other. The Christians pursued them
to the very gates. Upward of two thousand were either killed, wounded, or
taken prisoners, and the two pieces of ordnance brought off as trophies
of the victory. Not a Christian lance but was bathed that day in the
blood of an infidel. Such was the brief but bloody action, which was
known among the Christian warriors by the name of the "Queen's skirmish";
for when the Marquis of Cadiz waited upon her majesty he attributed the
victory entirely to her presence. The Queen, however, insisted that it
was all owing to her troops being led on by so valiant a commander. Her
majesty had not yet recovered from her agitation at beholding so terrible
a scene of bloodshed; though certain veterans present pronounced it as
gay and gentle a skirmish as they had ever witnessed.
The ravages of war had as yet spared a little portion of the vega of
Granada. A green belt of gardens and orchards still flourished around the
city, extending along the banks of the Xenel and the Darro. They had been
the solace and delight of the inhabitants in their happier days, and
contributed to their sustenance in this time of scarcity. Ferdinand
determined to make a final and exterminating ravage to the very walls of
the city, so that there should not remain a single green thing for the
sustenance of man or beast.
As the evening advanced the bustle in the camp subsided. Everyone sought
repose, preparatory to the next day's trial. The King retired early, that
he might be up with the crowing of the cock to head the destroying army
in person. The Queen had retired to the innermost part of her pavilion,
where she was performing her orisons before a private altar. While thus
at her prayers she was suddenly aroused by a glare of light and wreaths
of suffocating smoke. In an instant the whole tent was in a blaze; there
was a high gusty wind, which whirled the light flames from tent to tent,
and wrapped the whole in one conflagration.
Isabella had barely time to save herself by instant flight. Her first
thought, on being extricated from her tent, was for the safety of the
King. She rushed to his tent, but the vigilant Ferdinand was already at
the entrance of it. Starting from bed at the first alarm, and fancying it
an assault of the enemy, he had seized his sword and buckler, and sallied
forth undressed, with his cuirass upon his arm. The late gorgeous camp
was now a scene of wild confusion. The flames kept spreading from one
pavilion to another, glaring upon the rich armor and golden and silver
vessels, which seemed melting in the fervent heat. The ladies of the
court fled, shrieking and half dressed, from their tents. There was an
alarm of drum and trumpet, and a distracted hurry about the camp of men
half armed.