EXPEDITION OF THE MARQUES OF CADIZ AGAINST ALHAMA.
Great was the indignation of King Ferdinand when he heard of the
storming of Zahara, though the outrage of the Moor happened most
opportunely. The war between Castile and Portugal had come to a close;
the factions of Spanish nobles were for the most part quelled. The
Castilian monarchs had now, therefore, turned their thoughts to the
cherished object of their ambition, the conquest of Granada. The pious
heart of Isabella yearned to behold the entire Peninsula redeemed from
the domination of the infidel, while Ferdinand, in whom religious zeal
was mingled with temporal policy, looked with a craving eye to the rich
territory of the Moor, studded with wealthy towns and cities. Muley Abul
Hassan had rashly or unwarily thrown the brand that was to produce the
wide conflagration. Ferdinand was not the one to quench the flames. He
immediately issued orders to all the adelantados and alcaydes of the
frontiers to maintain the utmost vigilance at their several posts, and
to prepare to carry fire and sword into the territories of the Moors.
Among the many valiant cavaliers who rallied round the throne of
Ferdinand and Isabella, one of the most eminent in rank and renowned
in arms was Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon, marques of Cadiz. As he was the
distinguished champion of this holy war, and commanded in most of its
enterprises and battles, it is meet that some particular account should
be given of him. He was born in 1443 of the valiant lineage of the
Ponces, and from his earliest youth had rendered himself illustrious in
the field. He was of the middle stature, with a muscular and powerful
frame, capable of great exertion and fatigue. His hair and beard were
red and curled, his countenance was open and magnanimous, of a ruddy
complexion and slightly marked with the small-pox. He was temperate,
chaste, valiant, vigilant; a just and generous master to his vassals;
frank and noble in his deportment toward his equals; loving and faithful
to his friends; fierce and terrible, yet magnanimous, to his enemies.
He was considered the mirror of chivalry of his times, and compared by
contemporary historians to the immortal Cid.
The marques of Cadiz had vast possessions in the most fertile parts of
Andalusia, including many towns and castles, and could lead forth an
army into the field from his own vassals and dependants. On receiving
the orders of the king he burned to signalize himself by some sudden
incursion into the kingdom of Granada that should give a brilliant
commencement to the war, and should console the sovereigns for the
insult they had received in the capture of Zahara. As his estates lay
near to the Moorish frontiers and were subject to sudden inroads, he
had always in his pay numbers of adalides, or scouts and guides, many of
them converted Moors. These he sent out in all directions to watch the
movements of the enemy and to procure all kinds of information important
to the security of the frontier. One of these spies came to him one
day in his town of Marchena, and informed him that the Moorish town of
Alhama was slightly garrisoned and negligently guarded, and might be
taken by surprise. This was a large, wealthy, and populous place within
a few leagues of Granada. It was situated on a rocky height, nearly
surrounded by a river, and defended by a fortress to which there was no
access but by a steep and cragged ascent. The strength of its situation
and its being embosomed in the centre of the kingdom had produced the
careless security which now invited attack.
To ascertain fully the state of the fortress the marques despatched
secretly a veteran soldier who was highly in his confidence. His name
was Ortega de Prado, a man of great activity, shrewdness, and valor,
and captain of escaladors (soldiers employed to scale the walls of
fortresses in time of attack). Ortega approached Alhama one moonless
night, and paced along its walls with noiseless step, laying his ear
occasionally to the ground or to the wall. Every time he distinguished
the measured tread of a sentinel, and now and then the challenge of
the night-watch going its rounds. Finding the town thus guarded, he
clambered to the castle: there all was silent. As he ranged its lofty
battlements between him and the sky he saw no sentinel on duty.
He noticed certain places where the wall might be ascended by
scaling-ladders, and, having marked the hour of relieving guard and made
all necessary observations, he retired without being discovered.
Ortega returned to Marchena, and assured the marques of Cadiz of
the practicability of scaling the castle of Alhama and taking it by
surprise. The marques had a secret conference with Don Pedro Enriques,
adelantado of Andalusia, Don Diego de Merlo, commander of Seville,
Sancho de Avila, alcayde of Carmona, and others, who all agreed to
aid him with their forces. On an appointed day the several commanders
assembled at Marchena with their troops and retainers. None but the
leaders knew the object or destination of the enterprise, but it was
enough to rouse the Andalusian spirit to know that a foray was intended
into the country of their old enemies, the Moors. Secrecy and celerity
were necessary for success. They set out promptly with three thousand
genetes or light cavalry and four thousand infantry. They chose a route
but little travelled, by the way of Antiquera, passing with great labor
through rugged and solitary defiles of the sierra or chain of mountains
of Arrecife, and left all their baggage on the banks of the river
Yeguas, to be brought after them. This march was principally in the
night; all day they remained quiet; no noise was suffered in their camp,
and no fires were made, lest the smoke should betray them. On the third
day they resumed their march as the evening darkened, and, forcing
themselves forward at as quick a pace as the rugged and dangerous
mountain-roads would permit, they descended toward midnight into a
small deep valley only half a league from Alhama. Here they made a halt,
fatigued by this forced march, during a long dark evening toward the end
of February.
The marques of Cadiz now explained to the troops the object of the
expedition. He told them it was for the glory of the most holy faith and
to avenge the wrongs of their countrymen at Zahara, and that the town of
Alhama, full of wealthy spoil, was the place to be attacked. The troops
were roused to new ardor by these words, and desired to be led forthwith
to the assault. They arrived close to Alhama about two hours before
daybreak. Here the army remained in ambush, while three hundred men were
despatched to scale the walls and get possession of the castle. They
were picked men, many of them alcaydes and officers, men who preferred
death to dishonor. This gallant band was guided by the escalador Ortega
de Prado at the head of thirty men with scaling-ladders. They clambered
the ascent to the castle in silence, and arrived under the dark shadow
of its towers without being discovered. Not a light was to be seen, not
a sound to be heard; the whole place was wrapped in profound repose.
Fixing their ladders, they ascended cautiously and with noiseless steps.
Ortega was the first that mounted upon the battlements, followed by
one Martin Galindo, a youthful esquire full of spirit and eager for
distinction. Moving stealthily along the parapet to the portal of the
citadel, they came upon the sentinel by surprise. Ortega seized him
by the throat, brandished a dagger before his eyes, and ordered him to
point the way to the guard-room. The infidel obeyed, and was instantly
despatched, to prevent his giving an alarm. The guard-room was a scene
rather of massacre than combat. Some of the soldiery were killed while
sleeping, others were cut down almost without resistance, bewildered by
so unexpected an assault: all were despatched, for the scaling party was
too small to make prisoners or to spare. The alarm spread throughout the
castle, but by this time the three hundred picked men had mounted the
battlements. The garrison, startled from sleep, found the enemy already
masters of the towers. Some of the Moors were cut down at once, others
fought desperately from room to room, and the whole castle resounded
with the clash of arms, the cries of the combatants, and the groans of
the wounded. The army in ambush, finding by the uproar that the castle
was surprised, now rushed from their concealment, and approached
the walls with loud shouts and sound of kettle-drums and trumpets to
increase the confusion and dismay of the garrison. A violent conflict
took place in the court of the castle, where several of the scaling
party sought to throw open the gates to admit their countrymen. Here
fell two valiant alcaydes, Nicholas de Roja and Sancho de Avila, but
they fell honorably, upon a heap of slain. At length Ortega de Prado
succeeded in throwing open a postern through which the marques of Cadiz,
the adelantado of Andalusia, and Don Diego de Merlo entered with a
host of followers, and the citadel remained in full possession of the
Christians.
As the Spanish cavaliers were ranging from room to room, the marques of
Cadiz, entering an apartment of superior richness to the rest, beheld,
by the light of a silver lamp, a beautiful Moorish female, the wife
of the alcayde of the castle, whose husband was absent attending a
wedding-feast at Velez Malaga. She would have fled at the sight of a
Christian warrior in her apartment, but, entangled in the covering of
the bed, she fell at the feet of the marques, imploring mercy. That
Christian cavalier, who had a soul full of honor and courtesy toward the
sex, raised her from the floor and endeavored to allay her fears; but
they were increased at the sight of her female attendants pursued into
the room by the Spanish soldiery. The marques reproached his soldiers
with unmanly conduct, and reminded them that they made war upon men, not
on defenceless women. Having soothed the terrors of the females by the
promise of honorable protection, he appointed a trusty guard to watch
over the security of their apartment.
The castle was now taken, but the town below it was in arms. It was
broad day, and the people, recovered from their panic, were enabled to
see and estimate the force of the enemy. The inhabitants were chiefly
merchants and tradespeople, but the Moors all possessed a knowledge of
the use of weapons and were of brave and warlike spirit. They confided
in the strength of their walls and the certainty of speedy relief
from Granada, which was but about eight leagues distant. Manning the
battlements and towers, they discharged showers of stones and arrows
whenever the part of the Christian army without the walls attempted to
approach. They barricadoed the entrances of their streets also which
opened toward the castle, stationing men expert at the crossbow and
arquebuse. These kept up a constant fire upon the gate of the castle,
so that no one could sally forth without being instantly shot down. Two
valiant cavaliers who attempted to lead forth a party in defiance of
this fatal tempest were shot dead at the very portal.
The Christians now found themselves in a situation of great peril.
Reinforcements must soon arrive to the enemy from Granada: unless,
therefore, they gained possession of the town in the course of the day,
they were likely to be surrounded and beleaguered, without provisions,
in the castle. Some observed that even if they took the town they should
not be able to maintain possession of it. They proposed, therefore, to
make booty of everything valuable, to sack the castle, set it on fire,
and make good their retreat to Seville.
The marques of Cadiz was of different counsel. “God has given the
citadel into Christian hands,” said he; “he will no doubt strengthen
them to maintain it. We have gained the place with difficulty and
bloodshed; it would be a stain upon our honor to abandon it through fear
of imaginary dangers.” The adelantado and Don Diego de Merlo joined
in his opinion, but without their earnest and united remonstrances the
place would have been abandoned, so exhausted were the troops by forced
marches and hard fighting, and so apprehensive of the approach of the
Moors of Granada.
The strength and spirits of the party within the castle were in some
degree restored by the provisions which they found. The Christian army
beneath the town, being also refreshed by a morning’s repast,
advanced vigorously to the attack of the walls. They planted their
scaling-ladders, and, swarming up, sword in hand, fought fiercely with
the Moorish soldiery upon the ramparts.
In the mean time, the marques of Cadiz, seeing that the gate of the
castle, which opened toward the city, was completely commanded by the
artillery of the enemy, ordered a large breach to be made in the wall,
through which he might lead his troops to the attack, animating them in
this perilous moment by assuring them that the place should be given up
to plunder and its inhabitants made captives.
The breach being made, the marques put himself at the head of his
troops, and entered sword in hand. A simultaneous attack was make by the
Christians in every part--by the ramparts, by the gate, by the roofs
and walls which connected the castle with the town. The Moors fought
valiantly in their streets, from their windows, and from the tops of
their houses. They were not equal to the Christians in bodily strength,
for they were for the most part peaceful men, of industrious callings,
and enervated by the frequent use of the warm bath; but they were
superior in number and unconquerable in spirit; old and young, strong
and weak, fought with the same desperation. The Moors fought for
property, for liberty, for life. They fought at their thresholds and
their hearths, with the shrieks of their wives and children ringing in
their ears, and they fought in the hope that each moment would bring aid
from Granada. They regarded neither their own wounds nor the death of
their companions, but continued fighting until they fell, and seemed
as if, when they could no longer contend, they would block up the
thresholds of their beloved homes with their mangled bodies. The
Christians fought for glory, for revenge, for the holy faith, and for
the spoil of these wealthy infidels. Success would place a rich town at
their mercy; failure would deliver them into the hands of the tyrant of
Granada.
The contest raged from morning until night, when the Moors began to
yield. Retreating to a large mosque near the walls, they kept up so
galling a fire from it with lances, crossbows, and arquebuses that for
some time the Christians dared not approach. Covering themselves, at
length, with bucklers and mantelets* to protect them from the deadly
shower, the latter made their way to the mosque and set fire to the
doors. When the smoke and flames rolled in upon them the Moors gave
up all as lost. Many rushed forth desperately upon the enemy, but were
immediately slain; the rest surrendered themselves captives.
* Mantelet--a movable parapet, made of thick planks, to protect
troops when advancing to sap or assault a walled place.
The struggle was now at an end: the town remained at the mercy of the
Christians; and the inhabitants, both male and female, became the
slaves of those who made them prisoners. Some few escaped by a mine or
subterranean way which led to the river, and concealed themselves, their
wives and children, in caves and secret places, but in three or four
days were compelled to surrender themselves through hunger.
The town was given up to plunder, and the booty was immense. There were
found prodigious quantities of gold and silver, and jewels and rich
silks and costly stuffs of all kinds, together with horses and beeves,
and abundance of grain and oil and honey, and all other productions of
this fruitful kingdom; for in Alhama were collected the royal rents
and tributes of the surrounding country: it was the richest town in
the Moorish territory, and from its great strength and its peculiar
situation was called the key to Granada.
Great waste and devastation were committed by the Spanish soldiery; for,
thinking it would be impossible to keep possession of the place, they
began to destroy whatever they could not take away. Immense jars of
oil were broken, costly furniture shattered to pieces, and magazines
of grain broken open and their contents scattered to the winds. Many
Christian captives who had been taken at Zahara were found buried in a
Moorish dungeon, and were triumphantly restored to light and liberty;
and a renegado Spaniard, who had often served as guide to the Moors
in their incursions into the Christian territories, was hanged on the
highest part of the battlements for the edification of the army.