HOW KING FERDINAND ATTACKED MOCLIN, AND OF THE STRANGE EVENTS THAT
ATTENDED ITS CAPTURE.
“The Catholic sovereigns,” says Fray Antonio Agapida, “had by this time
closely clipped the right wing of the Moorish vulture.” In other words,
most of the strong fortresses along the western frontier of Granada had
fallen beneath the Christian artillery. The army now lay encamped before
the town of Moclin, on the frontier of Jaen, one of the most stubborn
fortresses of the border. It stood on a high rocky hill, the base of
which was nearly girdled by a river: a thick forest protected the
back part of the town toward the mountain. Thus strongly situated, it
domineered, with its frowning battlements and massive towers, all the
mountain-passes into that part of the country, and was called “the
shield of Granada.” It had a double arrear of blood to settle with the
Christians: two hundred years before, a master of Santiago and all his
cavaliers had been lanced by the Moors before its gates. It had recently
made terrible slaughter among the troops of the good count de Cabra in
his precipitate attempt to entrap the old Moorish monarch. The pride of
Ferdinand had been piqued by being obliged on that occasion to recede
from his plan and abandon his concerted attack on the place; he was now
prepared to take a full revenge.
El Zagal, the old warrior-king of Granada, anticipating a second
attempt, had provided the place with ample ammunitions and provisions,
had ordered trenches to be digged and additional bulwarks thrown up, and
caused all the old men, the women, and the children to be removed to the
capital.
Such was the strength of the fortress and the difficulties of its
position that Ferdinand anticipated much trouble in reducing it, and
made every preparation for a regular siege. In the centre of his camp
were two great mounds, one of sacks of flour, the other of grain, which
were called the royal granary. Three batteries of heavy ordnance
were opened against the citadel and principal towers, while smaller
artillery, engines for the discharge of missiles, arquebuses, and
crossbows, were distributed in various places to keep up a fire into any
breaches that might be made, and upon those of the garrison who should
appear on the battlements.
The lombards soon made an impression on the works, demolishing a part of
the wall and tumbling down several of those haughty towers which, from
their height, had been impregnable before the invention of gunpowder.
The Moors repaired their walls as well as they were able, and, still
confiding in the strength of their situation, kept up a resolute
defence, firing down from their lofty battlements and towers upon the
Christian camp. For two nights and a day an incessant fire was kept up,
so that there was not a moment in which the roaring of ordnance was not
heard or some damage sustained by the Christians or the Moors. It was
a conflict, however, more of engineers and artillerists than of gallant
cavaliers; there was no sally of troops nor shock of armed men nor rush
and charge of cavalry. The knights stood looking on with idle weapons,
waiting until they should have an opportunity of signalizing their
prowess by scaling the walls or storming the breaches. As the place,
however, was assailable only in one part, there was every prospect of a
long and obstinate resistance.
The engineers, as usual, discharged not merely balls of stone and
iron to demolish the walls, but flaming balls of inextinguishable
combustibles designed to set fire to the houses. One of these, which
passed high through the air like a meteor, sending out sparks and
crackling as it went, entered the window of a tower which was used as
a magazine of gunpowder. The tower blew up with a tremendous explosion;
the Moors who were upon its battlements were hurled into the air,
and fell mangled in various parts of the town, and the houses in its
vicinity were rent and overthrown as with an earthquake.
The Moors, who had never witnessed an explosion of the kind, ascribed
the destruction of the tower to a miracle. Some who had seen the descent
of the flaming ball imagined that fire had fallen from heaven to punish
them for their pertinacity. The pious Agapida himself believes that
this fiery missive was conducted by divine agency to confound the
infidels--an opinion in which he is supported by other Catholic
historians.*
* Pulgar, Garibay; Lucio Marino Siculo, Cosas Memoral. de Hispan.,
lib.20.
Seeing heaven and earth, as it were, combined against them, the Moors
lost all heart: they capitulated, and were permitted to depart with
their effects, leaving behind all arms and munitions of war.
The Catholic army (says Antonio Agapida) entered Moclin in solemn state,
not as a licentious host intent upon plunder and desolation, but as a
band of Christian warriors coming to purify and regenerate the land. The
standard of the cross, that ensign of this holy crusade, was borne in
the advance, followed by the other banners of the army. Then came the
king and queen at the head of a vast number of armed cavaliers. They
were accompanied by a band of priests and friars, with the choir of
the royal chapel chanting the canticle “Te Deum laudamus.” As they were
moving through the streets in this solemn manner, every sound hushed
excepting the anthem of the choir, they suddenly heard, issuing as it
were from under ground, a chorus of voices chanting in solemn response
“Benedictum qui venit in nomine Domini.” * The procession paused in
wonder. The sounds rose from Christian captives, and among them several
priests, who were confined in subterraneous dungeons.
* Marino Siculo.
The heart of Isabella was greatly touched. She ordered the captives to
be drawn forth from their cells, and was still more moved at beholding,
by their wan, discolored, and emaciated appearance, how much they had
suffered. Their hair and beards were overgrown and shagged; they were
wasted by hunger, half naked, and in chains. She ordered that they
should be clothed and cherished, and money furnished them to bear them
to their homes.*
* Illescas, Hist. Pontif., lib. 6, c. 20, \0xA4 1.
Several of the captives were brave cavaliers who had been wounded and
made prisoners in the defeat of the count de Cabra by El Zagal in the
preceding year. There were also found other melancholy traces of that
disastrous affair. On visiting the narrow pass where the defeat had
taken place, the remains of several Christian warriors were found in
thickets or hidden behind rocks or in the clefts of the mountains. These
were some who had been struck from their horses and wounded too severely
to fly. They had crawled away from the scene of action, and concealed
themselves to avoid falling into the hands of the enemy, and had thus
perished miserably and alone. The remains of those of note were known by
their armor and devices, and were mourned over by their companions who
had shared the disaster of that day.*
* Pulgar, part 3, cap. 61.
The queen had these remains piously collected as the relics of so many
martyrs who had fallen in the cause of the faith. They were interred
with great solemnity in the mosques of Moclin, which had been purified
and consecrated to Christian worship. “There,” says Antonio Agapida,
“rest the bones of those truly Catholic knights, in the holy ground
which in a manner had been sanctified by their blood; and all pilgrims
passing through those mountains offer up prayers and masses for the
repose of their souls.”
The queen remained for some time at Moclin, administering comfort to the
wounded and the prisoners, bringing the newly-acquired territory
into order, and founding churches and monasteries and other pious
institutions. “While the king marched in front, laying waste the land of
the Philistines,” says the figurative Antonio Agapida, “Queen Isabella
followed his traces as the binder follows the reaper, gathering and
garnering the rich harvest that has fallen beneath his sickle. In this
she was greatly assisted by the counsels of that cloud of bishops,
friars, and other saintly men which continually surrounded her,
garnering the first fruits of this infidel land into the granaries of
the Church.” Leaving her thus piously employed, the king pursued his
career of conquest, determined to lay waste the Vega and carry fire and
sword to the very gates of Granada.