FORAY OF THE MOORISH ALCAYDES, AND BATTLE OF LOPERA.
Though Muley Abul Hassan had regained undivided sway over the city of
Granada, and the alfaquis, by his command, had denounced his son Boabdil
as an apostate doomed by Heaven to misfortune, still the latter had many
adherents among the common people. Whenever, therefore, any act of the
old monarch was displeasing to the turbulent multitude, they were prone
to give him a hint of the slippery nature of his standing by shouting
out the name of Boabdil el Chico. Long experience had instructed Muley
Abul Hassan in the character of the inconstant people over whom he
ruled. “A successful inroad into the country of the unbelievers,” said
he, “will make more converts to my cause than a thousand texts of the
Koran expounded by ten thousand alfaquis.”
At this time King Ferdinand was absent from Andalusia on a distant
expedition with many of his troops. The moment was favorable for a
foray, and Muley Abul Hassan cast about his thoughts for a leader
to conduct it. Ali Atar, the terror of the border, the scourge of
Andalusia, was dead, but there was another veteran general, scarce
inferior to him for predatory warfare. This was old Bexir, the gray and
crafty alcayde of Malaga, and the people under his command were ripe
for an expedition of the kind. The signal defeat and slaughter of the
Spanish knights in the neighboring mountains had filled the people of
Malaga with vanity and self-conceit. They had attributed to their own
valor the defeat caused by the nature of the country. Many of them
wore the armor and paraded in public with the horses of the unfortunate
cavaliers slain on that occasion, vauntingly displaying them as trophies
of their boasted victory. They had talked themselves into a contempt
for the chivalry of Andalusia, and were impatient for an opportunity
to overrun a country defended by such troops. This Muley Abul Hassan
considered a favorable state of mind for a daring inroad, and sent
orders to old Bexir to gather together the choicest warriors of the
borders and carry fire and sword into the very heart of Andalusia. Bexir
immediately despatched his emissaries among the alcaydes of the border
towns, calling upon them to assemble with their troops at the city of
Ronda.
Ronda was the most virulent nest of Moorish depredators in the whole
border country. It was situated in the midst of the wild Serrania, or
chain of mountains of the same name, which are uncommonly lofty, broken,
and precipitous. It stood on an almost isolated rock, nearly encircled
by a deep valley, or rather chasm, through which ran the beautiful river
called Rio Verde. The Moors of this city were the most active, robust,
and warlike of all the mountaineers, and their very children discharged
the crossbow with unerring aim. They were incessantly harassing the rich
plains of Andalusia; their city abounded with Christian captives, who
might sigh in vain for deliverance from this impregnable fortress. Such
was Ronda in the time of the Moors, and it has ever retained something
of the same character, even to the present day. Its inhabitants
continue to be among the boldest, fiercest, and most adventurous of the
Andalusian mountaineers, and the Serrania de Ronda is famous as the most
dangerous resort of the bandit and the contrabandista.
Hamet Zeli, surnamed El Zegri, was the commander of this belligerent
city and its fierce inhabitants. He was of the tribe of the Zegries,
and one of the most proud and daring of that warlike race. Besides
the inhabitants of Ronda and some of his own tribe, he had a legion of
African Moors in his immediate service. They were of the tribe of the
Gomeres, so called from their native mountains--mercenary troops whose
hot African blood had not yet been tempered by the softer living of
Spain, and whose whole business was to fight. These he kept always well
armed and well appointed. The rich pasturage of the valley of Ronda
produced a breed of horses famous for strength and speed; no cavalry,
therefore, was better mounted than the band of Gomeres. Rapid on the
march, fierce in the attack, it would sweep down upon the Andalusian
plains like a sudden blast from the mountains, and pass away as suddenly
before there was time for pursuit.
There was nothing that stirred up the spirit of the Moors of the
frontiers more thoroughly than the idea of a foray. The summons of Bexir
was gladly obeyed by the alcaydes of the border towns, and in a little
while there was a force of fifteen hundred horse and four thousand foot,
the very pith and marrow of the surrounding country, assembled within
the walls of Ronda. The people of the place anticipated with eagerness
the rich spoils of Andalusia soon to crowd their gates; throughout the
day the city resounded with the noise of kettle-drum and trumpet; the
high-mettled steeds stamped and neighed in their stalls as if they
shared the impatience for the foray; while the Christian captives sighed
as the varied din of preparation reached their rocky dungeons, denoting
a fresh expedition against their countrymen.
The infidel host sallied forth full of spirits, anticipating an easy
ravage and abundant booty. They encouraged each other in a contempt for
the prowess of the foe. Many of the warriors of Malaga and of some of
the mountain-towns had insultingly arrayed themselves in the splendid
armor of the Christian knights slain or taken prisoners in the famous
massacre, and some of them rode the Andalusian steeds captured on that
occasion.
The wary Bexir concerted his plans so secretly and expeditiously that
the Christian towns of Andalusia had not the least suspicion of the
storm gathering beyond the mountains. The vast rocky range of the
Serrania de Ronda extended like a screen, covering all their movements
from observation.
The army made its way as rapidly as the rugged nature of the mountains
would permit, guided by Hamet el Zegri, the bold alcayde of Ronda, who
knew every pass and defile: not a drum nor the clash of a cymbal nor
the blast of a trumpet was permitted to be heard. The mass of war
rolled quietly on as the gathering cloud to the brow of the mountains,
intending to burst down like the thunderbolt upon the plain.
Never let the most wary commander fancy himself secure from discovery,
for rocks have eyes, and trees have ears, and the birds of the air have
tongues, to betray the most secret enterprise. There chanced at this
time to be six Christian scouts prowling about the savage heights of the
Serrania de Ronda. They were of that kind of lawless ruffians who infest
the borders of belligerent countries, ready at any time to fight for
pay or prowl for plunder. The wild mountain-passes of Spain have ever
abounded with loose rambling vagabonds of the kind--soldiers in war,
robbers in peace, guides, guards, smugglers, or cutthroats according to
the circumstances of the case.
These six marauders (says Fray Antonio Agapida) were on this occasion
chosen instruments, sanctified by the righteousness of their cause. They
were lurking among the mountains to entrap Moorish cattle or Moorish
prisoners, both of which were equally salable in the Christian market.
They had ascended one of the loftiest cliffs, and were looking out like
birds of prey, ready to pounce upon anything that might offer in
the valley, when they descried the Moorish army emerging from a
mountain-glen. They watched it as it wound below them, remarking the
standards of the various towns and the pennons of the commanders. They
hovered about it on its march, skulking from cliff to cliff, until they
saw the route by which it intended to enter the Christian country.
They then dispersed, each making his way by the secret passes of the
mountains to some different alcayde, that they might spread the alarm
far and wide, and each get a separate reward.
One hastened to Luis Fernandez Puerto Carrero, the same valiant alcayde
who had repulsed Muley Abul Hassan from the walls of Alhama, and who
now commanded at Ecija in the absence of the master of Santiago. Others
roused the town of Utrera and the places of that neighborhood, putting
them all on the alert.*
* Pulgar, p. 3, c. 24; Cura de los Palacios, cap. 67.
Puerto Carrero was a cavalier of consummate vigor and activity. He
immediately sent couriers to the alcaydes of the neighboring fortresses,
to Herman Carrello, captain of a body of the Holy Brotherhood, and to
certain knights of the order of Alcantara. Puerto Carrero was the first
to take the field. Knowing the hard and hungry service of these border
scampers, he made every man take a hearty repast and see that his horse
was well shod and perfectly appointed. Then, all being refreshed and in
valiant heart, he sallied forth to seek the Moors. He had but a handful
of men, the retainers of his household and troops of his captaincy, but
they were well armed and mounted, and accustomed to the sudden rouses
of the border--men whom the cry of “Arm and out! to horse and to the
field!” was sufficient at any time to put in a fever of animation.
While the northern part of Andalusia was thus on the alert, one of the
scouts had hastened southward to the city of Xeres, and given the alarm
to the valiant marques of Cadiz. When the marques heard that the Moor
was over the border and that the standard of Malaga was in the advance,
his heart bounded with a momentary joy, for he remembered the massacre
in the mountains, where his valiant brothers had been mangled before
his eyes. The very authors of his calamity were now at hand, and he
flattered himself that the day of vengeance had arrived. He made a hasty
levy of his retainers and of the fighting men of Xeres, and hurried
off with three hundred horse and two hundred foot, all resolute men and
panting for revenge.
In the mean time, the veteran Bexir had accomplished his march, as
he imagined, undiscovered. From the openings of the craggy defiles he
pointed out the fertile plains of Andalusia, and regaled the eyes of
his soldiery with the rich country they were about to ravage. The fierce
Gomeres of Ronda were flushed with joy at the sight, and even their
steeds seemed to prick up their ears and snuff the breeze as they beheld
the scenes of their frequent forays.
When they came to where the mountain-defile opened into the low land,
Bexir divided his force into three parts: one, composed of foot-soldiers
and such as were weakly mounted, he left to guard the pass, being too
experienced a veteran not to know the importance of securing a retreat;
a second body he placed in ambush among the groves and thickets on the
banks of the river Lopera; the third, consisting of light cavalry, he
sent forth to ravage the Campina (or great plain) of Utrera. Most of
this latter force was composed of the Gomeres of Ronda, mounted on the
fleet steeds bred among the mountains. It was led by Hamet el Zegri,
ever eager to be foremost in the forage. Little suspecting that the
country on both sides was on the alarm, and rushing from all directions
to close upon them in the rear, this fiery troop dashed forward until
they came within two leagues of Utrera. Here they scattered themselves
about the plain, careering round the great herds of cattle and flocks of
sheep, and sweeping them into droves to be hurried to the mountains.
While thus dispersed a troop of horse and body of foot from Utrera came
suddenly upon them. The Moors rallied together in small parties and
endeavored to defend themselves; but they were without a leader, for
Hamet el Zegri was at a distance, having, like a hawk, made a wide
circuit in pursuit of prey. The marauders soon gave way and fled toward
the ambush on the banks of the Lopera, being hotly pursued by the men of
Utrera.
When they reached the Lopera the Moors in ambush rushed forth with
furious cries, and the fugitives, recovering courage from this
reinforcement, rallied and turned upon their pursuers. The Christians
stood their ground, though greatly inferior in number. Their lances were
soon broken, and they came to sharp work with sword and scimetar. The
Christians fought valiantly, but were in danger of being overwhelmed.
The bold Hamet collected a handful of his scattered Gomeres, left his
prey, and galloped toward the scene of action. His little troop of
horsemen had reached the crest of a rising ground at no great distance
when trumpets were heard in another direction, and Luis Fernandez Puerto
Carrero and his followers came galloping into the field, and charged
upon the infidels in flank.
The Moors were astounded at finding war thus breaking upon them from
various quarters of what they had expected to find an unguarded country.
They fought for a short time with desperation, and resisted a vehement
assault from the knights of Alcantara and the men-at-arms of the Holy
Brotherhood. At length the veteran Bexir was struck from his horse by
Puerto Carrero and taken prisoner, and the whole force gave way
and fled. In their flight they separated and took two roads to the
mountains, thinking by dividing their forces to distract the enemy. The
Christians were too few to separate. Puerto Carrero kept them together,
pursuing one division of the enemy with great slaughter. This battle
took place at the fountain of the fig tree, near to the Lopera. Six
hundred Moorish cavaliers were slain and many taken prisoners. Much
spoil was collected on the field, with which the Christians returned in
triumph to their homes.
The larger body of the enemy had retreated along a road leading more to
the south, by the banks of the Guadalete. When they reached that river
the sound of pursuit had died away, and they rallied to breathe and
refresh themselves on the margin of the stream. Their force was reduced
to about a thousand horse and a confused multitude of foot. While they
were scattered and partly dismounted on the banks of the Guadalete a
fresh storm of war burst upon them from an opposite direction. It was
the (4) marques of Cadiz, leading on his household troops and the fighting
men of Xeres. When the Christian warriors came in sight of the Moors,
they were roused to fury at beholding many of them arrayed in the armor
of the cavaliers who had been slain among the mountains of Malaga. Nay,
some who had been in that defeat beheld their own armor, which they had
cast away in their flight to enable themselves to climb the mountains.
Exasperated at the sight they rushed upon the foe with the ferocity of
tigers rather than the temperate courage of cavaliers. Each man felt
as if he were avenging the death of a relative or wiping out his own
disgrace. The good marques himself beheld a powerful Moor bestriding the
horse of his brother Beltran: giving a cry of rage and anguish at the
sight, he rushed through the thickest of the enemy, attacked the Moor
with resistless fury, and after a short combat hurled him breathless to
the earth.
The Moors, already vanquished in spirit, could not withstand the assault
of men thus madly excited. They soon gave way, and fled for the defile
of the Serrania de Ronda, where the body of troops had been stationed
to secure a retreat. These, seeing them come galloping wildly up the
defile, with Christian banners in pursuit and the flash of weapons at
their deadly work, thought all Andalusia was upon them, and fled without
awaiting an attack. The pursuit continued among glens and defiles, for
the Christian warriors, eager for revenge, had no compassion on the foe.
When the pursuit was over the marques of Cadiz and his followers reposed
themselves upon the banks of the Guadalete, where they divided the
spoil. Among this were found many rich corselets, helmets, and weapons,
the Moorish trophies of the defeat in the mountains of Malaga. Several
were claimed by their owners; others were known to have belonged to
noble cavaliers who had been slain or taken prisoners. There were
several horses also, richly caparisoned, which had pranced proudly with
the unfortunate warriors as they sallied out of Antiquera upon that
fatal expedition. Thus the exultation of the victors was dashed with
melancholy, and many a knight was seen lamenting over the helmet or
corselet of some loved companion-in-arms.
NOTE.--“En el despojo de la Batalla se vieron muchas ricas corazas e
capacetes, e barberas de las que se habian perdido en el Axarquia, e
otras muchas armas, e algunes fueron conocidas de sus duenos que las
habian dejado por fuir, e otras fueron conocidas, que eran mui senaladas
de hombres principales que habian quedado muertos e cautivos, i fueron
tornados muchos de los mismos Caballos con sus ricas sillas, de los que
quedaron en la Axerquia, e fueron concidos cuios eran.”--“Cura de los
Palacios,” cap. 67.