EXPEDITION AGAINST THE CASTLES OF CAMBIL AND ALBAHAR.
“Happy are those princes,” exclaims the worthy padre Fray Antonio
Agapida, “who have women and priests to advise them, for in these
dwelleth the spirit of counsel.” While Ferdinand and his captains were
confounding each other in their deliberations at the Fountain of the
King, a quiet but deep little council of war was held in the state
apartment of the old castle of Vaena between Queen Isabella, the
venerable Pedro Gonzalez de Mendoza, grand cardinal of Spain, and Don
Garcia Osoria, the belligerent bishop of Jaen. This last worthy prelate,
who had exchanged his mitre for a helm, no sooner beheld the defeat of
the enterprise against Moclin than he turned the reins of his sleek,
stall-fed steed and hastened back to Vaena, full of a project for the
employment of the army, the advancement of the faith, and the benefit of
his own diocese. He knew that the actions of the king were influenced
by the opinions of the queen, and that the queen always inclined
a listening ear to the counsels of saintly men: he laid his plans,
therefore, with the customary wisdom of his cloth, to turn the ideas
of the queen into the proper channel; and this was the purport of the
worthy bishop’s suggestions:
The bishopric of Jaen had for a long time been harassed by two Moorish
castles, the scourge and terror of all that part of the country. They
were situated on the frontiers of the kingdom of Granada, about four
leagues from Jaen, in a deep, narrow, and rugged valley surrounded by
lofty mountains. Through this valley runs the Rio Frio (or Cold River)
in a deep channel worn between high, precipitous banks. On each side of
the stream rise two vast rocks, nearly perpendicular, within a stone’s
throw of each other, blocking up the gorge of the valley. On the summits
of these rocks stood the two formidable castles, Cambil and Albahar,
fortified with battlements and towers of great height and thickness.
They were connected together by a bridge thrown from rock to rock across
the river. The road which passed through the valley traversed this
bridge, and was completely commanded by these castles. They stood like
two giants of romance guarding the pass and dominating the valley.
The kings of Granada, knowing the importance of these castles, kept
them always well garrisoned and victualled to stand a siege, with fleet
steeds and hard riders to forage the country of the Christians. The
warlike race of the Abencerrages, the troops of the royal household, and
others of the choicest chivalry of Granada made them their strongholds
or posts of arms, whence to sally forth on those predatory and roving
enterprises in which they delighted. As the wealthy bishopric of
Jaen lay immediately at hand, it suffered more peculiarly from these
marauders. They drove off the fat beeves and the flocks of sheep from
the pastures and swept the laborers from the field; they scoured the
country to the very gates of Jaen, so that the citizens could not
venture from their walls without the risk of being borne off captive to
the dungeons of these castles.
The worthy bishop, like a good pastor, beheld with grief of heart his
fat bishopric daily waxing leaner and leaner and poorer and poorer, and
his holy ire was kindled at the thoughts that the possessions of the
Church should thus be at the mercy of a crew of infidels. It was the
urgent counsel of the bishop, therefore, that the military force thus
providentially assembled in the neighborhood, since it was apparently
foiled in its attempt upon Moclin, should be turned against these
insolent castles and the country delivered from their domination. The
grand cardinal supported the suggestion of the bishop, and declared that
he had long meditated the policy of a measure of the kind. Their united
opinions found favor with the queen, and she despatched a letter on
the subject to the king. It came just in time to relieve him from the
distraction of a multitude of counsellors, and he immediately undertook
the reduction of those castles.
The marques of Cadiz was accordingly sent in advance, with two thousand
horse, to keep a watch upon the garrisons and prevent all entrance or
exit until the king should arrive with the main army and the battering
artillery. The queen, to be near at hand in case of need, moved her
quarters to the city of Jaen, where she was received with martial honors
by the belligerent bishop, who had buckled on his cuirass and girded on
his sword to fight in the cause of his diocese.
In the mean time, the marques of Cadiz arrived in the valley and
completely shut up the Moors within their walls. The castles were under
the command of Mahomet Lentin Ben Usef, an Abencerrage, and one of the
bravest cavaliers of Granada. In his garrisons were many troops of
the fierce African tribe of Gomeres. Mahomet Lentin, confident in
the strength of his fortresses, smiled as he looked down from his
battlements upon the Christian cavalry perplexed in the rough and narrow
valley. He sent forth skirmishing parties to harass them, and there were
many sharp combats between small parties and single knights; but the
Moors were driven back to their castles, and all attempts to send
intelligence of their situation to Granada were frustrated by the
vigilance of the marques of Cadiz.
At length the legions of the royal army came pouring, with vaunting
trumpet and fluttering banner, along the defiles of the mountains.
They halted before the castles, but the king could not find room in
the narrow and rugged valley to form his camp; he had to divide it
into three parts, which were posted on different heights, and his tents
whitened the sides of the neighboring hills. When the encampment was
formed the army remained gazing idly at the castles. The artillery was
upward of four leagues in the rear, and without artillery all attack
would be in vain.
The alcayde Mahomet Lentin knew the nature of the road by which the
artillery had to be brought. It was merely a narrow and rugged path, at
times scaling almost perpendicular crags and precipices, up which it was
utterly impossible for wheel carriages to pass, neither was it in
the power of man or beast to draw up the lombards and other ponderous
ordnance. He felt assured, therefore, that they never could be brought
to the camp, and without their aid what could the Christians effect
against his rock-built castles? He scoffed at them, therefore, as he
saw their tents by day and their fires by night covering the surrounding
heights. “Let them linger here a little while longer,” said he, “and the
autumnal torrents will wash them from the mountains.”
While the alcayde was thus closely mewed up within his walls and
the Christians remained inactive in their camp, he noticed, one calm
autumnal day, the sound of implements of labor echoing among the
mountains, and now and then the crash of a falling tree or a thundering
report, as if some rock had been heaved from its bed and hurled into the
valley. The alcayde was on the battlements of his castle, surrounded by
his knights. “Methinks,” said he, “these Christians are making war
upon the rocks and trees of the mountains, since they find our castle
unassailable.”
The sounds did not cease even during the night: every now and then the
Moorish sentinel as he paced the battlements heard some crash echoing
among the heights. The return of day explained the mystery. Scarcely
did the sun shine against the summits of the mountains than shouts burst
from the cliffs opposite to the castle, and were answered from the camp
with joyful sounds of kettledrums and trumpets.
The astonished Moors lifted up their eyes and beheld, as it were, a
torrent of war breaking out of a narrow defile. There was a multitude
of men with pickaxes, spades, and bars of iron clearing away every
obstacle, while behind them slowly moved along great teams of oxen
dragging heavy ordnance and all the munitions of battering artillery.
“What cannot women and priests effect when they unite in council?”
exclaims again the worthy Antonio Agapida. The queen had held another
consultation with the grand cardinal and the belligerent bishop of Jaen.
It was clear that the heavy ordnance could never be conveyed to the
camp by the regular road of the country, and without battering artillery
nothing could be effected. It was suggested, however, by the zealous
bishop that another road might be opened through a more practicable part
of the mountains. It would be an undertaking extravagant and chimerical
with ordinary means, and therefore unlooked for by the enemy; but what
could not kings effect who had treasure and armies at command?
The project struck the enterprising spirit of the queen. Six thousand
men with pickaxes, crowbars, and every other necessary implement were
set to work day and night to break a road through the very centre of the
mountains. No time was to be lost, for it was rumored that El Zagal
was about to march with a mighty host to the relief of the castles.
The bustling bishop of Jaen acted as pioneer to mark the route and
superintend the laborers, and the grand cardinal took care that the work
should never languish through lack of means.*
* Zurita, Anales de Aragon, lib. 20, c. 64; Pulgar, part 3, cap. 51.
“When kings’ treasures,” says Fray Antonio Agapida, “are dispensed by
priestly hands, there is no stint, as the glorious annals of Spain
bear witness.” Under the guidance of these ghostly men it seemed as if
miracles were effected. Almost an entire mountain was levelled, valleys
were filled up, trees hewn down, rocks broken and overturned; in short,
all the obstacles which nature had heaped around entirely and promptly
vanished. In little more than twelve days this gigantic work was
effected and the ordnance dragged to the camp, to the great triumph of
the Christians and confusion of the Moors.*
* Zurita
No sooner was the heavy artillery arrived than it was mounted in all
haste upon the neighboring heights: Francisco Ramirez de Madrid, the
first engineer in Spain, superintended the batteries, and soon opened a
destructive fire upon the castles.
When the alcayde, Mahomet Lentin, found his towers tumbling about
him and his bravest men dashed from the walls without the power
of inflicting a wound upon the foe, his haughty spirit was greatly
exasperated. “Of what avail,” said he, bitterly, “is all the prowess of
knighthood against these cowardly engines that murder from afar?”
For a whole day a tremendous fire kept thundering upon the castle of
Albahar. The lombards discharged large stones which demolished two of
the towers and all the battlements which guarded the portal. If any
Moors attempted to defend the walls or repair the breaches, they were
shot down by ribadoquines and other small pieces of artillery. The
Christian soldiery issued from the camp under cover of this fire, and,
approaching the castles, discharged flights of arrows and stones through
the openings made by the ordnance.
At length, to bring the siege to a conclusion, Francisco Ramirez
elevated some of the heaviest artillery on a mount that rose in form of
a cone or pyramid on the side of the river near to Albahar and commanded
both castles. This was an operation of great skill and excessive labor,
but it was repaid by complete success, for the Moors did not dare to
wait until this terrible battery should discharge its fury. Satisfied
that all further resistance was in vain, the valiant alcayde made signal
for a parley. The articles of capitulation were soon arranged. The
alcayde and his garrisons were permitted to return in safety to the city
of Granada, and the castles were delivered into the possession of King
Ferdinand on the day of the festival of St. Matthew in the month of
September. They were immediately repaired, strongly garrisoned, and
delivered in charge to the city of Jaen.
The effects of this triumph were immediately apparent. Quiet and
security once more settled upon the bishopric. The husbandmen tilled
their fields in peace, the herds and flocks fattened unmolested in the
pastures, and the vineyards yielded corpulent skinsful of rosy wine. The
good bishop enjoyed in the gratitude of his people the approbation of
his conscience, the increase of his revenues, and the abundance of his
table a reward for all his toils and perils. “This glorious victory,”
exclaims Fray Antonio Agapida, “achieved by such extraordinary
management and infinite labor, is a shining example of what a bishop can
effect for the promotion of the faith and the good of his diocese.”