HOW KING FERDINAND FORAGED THE VEGA; AND OF THE BATTLE OF THE BRIDGE OF
PINOS, AND THE FATE OF THE TWO MOORISH BROTHERS.
Muley Abdallah el Zagal had been under a spell of ill-fortune ever since
the suspicious death of the old king his brother. Success had deserted
his standard, and with his fickle subjects want of success was one of
the greatest crimes in a sovereign. He found his popularity declining,
and he lost all confidence in his people. The Christian army marched in
open defiance through his territories, and sat down deliberately before
his fortresses; yet he dared not lead forth his legions to oppose them,
lest the inhabitants of the Albaycin, ever ripe for a revolt, should
rise and shut the gates of Granada against his return.
Every few days some melancholy train entered the metropolis, the
inhabitants of some captured town bearing the few effects spared them,
and weeping and bewailing the desolation of their homes. When the
tidings arrived that Illora and Moclin had fallen, the people were
seized with consternation. “The right eye of Granada is extinguished,”
exclaimed they; “the shield of Granada is broken: what shall protect
us from the inroad of the foe?” When the survivors of the garrisons of
those towns arrived, with downcast looks, bearing the marks of battle
and destitute of arms and standards, the populace reviled them in their
wrath, but they answered, “We fought as long as we had force to fight or
walls to shelter us; but the Christians laid our town and battlements in
ruins, and we looked in vain for aid from Granada.”
The alcaydes of Illora and Moclin were brothers; they were alike in
prowess and the bravest among the Moorish cavaliers. They had been the
most distinguished in those tilts and tourneys which graced the happier
days of Granada, and had distinguished themselves in the sterner
conflicts of the field. Acclamation had always followed their banners,
and they had long been the delight of the people. Yet now, when they
returned after the capture of their fortresses, they were followed
by the unsteady populace with execrations. The hearts of the alcaydes
swelled with indignation; they found the ingratitude of their countrymen
still more intolerable than the hostility of the Christians.
Tidings came that the enemy was advancing with his triumphant legions to
lay waste the country about Granada. Still El Zagal did not dare to take
the field. The two alcaydes of Illora and Moclin stood before him. “We
have defended your fortresses,” said they, “until we were almost
buried under their ruins, and for our reward we receive scoffings and
revilings: give us, O king, an opportunity where knightly valor may
signalize itself--not shut up behind stone walls, but in the open
conflict of the field. The enemy approaches to lay our country desolate:
give us men to meet him in the advance, and let shame light upon our
heads if we be found wanting in the battle!”
The two brothers were sent forth with a large force of horse and foot;
El Zagal intended, should they be successful, to issue forth with
his whole force, and by a decisive victory repair the losses he had
suffered. When the people saw the well-known standards of the brothers
going forth to battle, there was a feeble shout, but the alcaydes passed
on with stern countenances, for they knew the same voices would curse
them were they to return unfortunate. They cast a farewell look upon
fair Granada and upon the beautiful fields of their infancy, as if
for these they were willing to lay down their lives, but not for an
ungrateful people.
The army of Ferdinand had arrived within two leagues of Granada, at the
bridge of Pinos, a pass famous in the wars of the Moors and Christians
for many a bloody conflict. It was the pass by which the Castilian
monarchs generally made their inroads, and was capable of great defence
from the ruggedness of the country and the difficulty of the bridge. The
king, with the main body of the army, had attained the brow of a hill,
when they beheld the advance guard, under the marques of Cadiz and the
master of Santiago, furiously attacked by the enemy in the vicinity of
the bridge. The Moors rushed to the assault with their usual shouts, but
with more than usual ferocity. There was a hard struggle at the bridge;
both parties knew the importance of that pass.
The king particularly noted the prowess of two Moorish cavaliers,
alike in arms and devices, and whom by their bearing and attendance he
perceived to be commanders of the enemy. They were the two brothers,
the alcaydes of Illora and Moclin. Wherever they turned they carried
confusion and death into the ranks of the Christians, but they fought
with desperation rather than valor. The count de Cabra and his brother
Don Martin de Cordova pressed forward with eagerness against them, but,
having advanced too precipitately, were surrounded by the foe and in
imminent danger. A young Christian knight, seeing their peril, hastened
with his followers to their relief. The king recognized him for Don Juan
de Aragon, count of Ribargoza, his own nephew, for he was illegitimate
son of the duke of Villahermosa, illegitimate brother of King Ferdinand.
The splendid armor of Don Juan and the sumptuous caparison of his steed
rendered him a brilliant object of attack. He was assailed on all sides
and his superb steed slain under him, yet still he fought valiantly,
bearing for a time the brunt of the fight and giving the exhausted
forces of the count de Cabra time to recover breath.
Seeing the peril of these troops and the general obstinacy of the fight,
the king ordered the royal standard to be advanced, and hastened with
all his forces to the relief of the count de Cabra. At his approach
the enemy gave way and retreated toward the bridge. The two Moorish
commanders endeavored to rally their troops and animate them to defend
this pass to the utmost: they used prayers, remonstrances, menaces, but
almost in vain. They could only collect a scanty handful of cavaliers;
with these they planted themselves at the head of the bridge and
disputed it inch by inch. The fight was hot and obstinate, for but few
could contend hand to hand, yet many discharged crossbows and arquebuses
from the banks. The river was covered with the floating bodies of the
slain. The Moorish band of cavaliers was almost entirely cut to pieces;
the two brothers fell, covered with wounds, upon the bridge they had
so resolutely defended. They had given up the battle for lost, but had
determined not to return alive to ungrateful Granada.
When the people of the capital heard how devotedly they had fallen, they
lamented greatly their deaths and extolled their memory: a column was
erected to their honor in the vicinity of the bridge, which long went by
the name of “the Tomb of the Brothers.”
The army of Ferdinand now marched on and established its camp in the
vicinity of Granada. The worthy Agapida gives many triumphant details
of the ravages committed in the Vega, which was again laid waste, the
grain, fruits, and other productions of the earth destroyed, and that
earthly paradise rendered a dreary desert. He narrates several fierce
but ineffectual sallies and skirmishes of the Moors in defence of their
favorite plain; among which one deserves to be mentioned, as it records
the achievements of one of the saintly heroes of this war.
During one of the movements of the Christian army near the walls of
Granada a battalion of fifteen hundred cavalry and a large force of
foot had sallied from the city, and posted themselves near some gardens,
which were surrounded by a canal and traversed by ditches for the
purpose of irrigation.
The Moors beheld the duke del Infantado pass by with his two splendid
battalions--one of men-at-arms, the other of light cavalry armed “a la
gineta.” In company with him, but following as a rear-guard, was Don
Garcia Osorio, the belligerent bishop of Jaen, attended by Francisco
Bovadillo, the corregidor of his city, and followed by two squadrons of
men-at-arms from Jaen, Anduxar, Ubeda, and Baeza.* The success of last
year’s campaign had given the good bishop an inclination for warlike
affairs, and he had once more buckled on his cuirass.
* Pulgar, part 3, cap. 62.
The Moors were much given to stratagem in warfare. They looked wistfully
at the magnificent squadrons of the duke del Infantado, but their
martial discipline precluded all attack: the good bishop promised to be
a more easy prey. Suffering the duke and his troops to pass unmolested,
they approached the squadrons of the bishop, and making a pretended
attack, skirmished slightly and fled in apparent confusion. The bishop
considered the day his own, and, seconded by his corregidor Bovadillo,
followed with valorous precipitation. The Moors fled into the “Huerta
del Rey,” or Orchard of the King; the troops of the bishop followed
hotly after them.
When the Moors perceived their pursuers fairly embarrassed among the
intricacies of the garden, they turned fiercely upon them, while some
of their number threw open the sluices of the Xenil. In an instant the
canal which encircled and the ditches which traversed the garden were
filled with water, and the valiant bishop and his followers found
themselves overwhelmed by a deluge.* A scene of great confusion
succeeded. Some of the men of Jaen, stoutest of heart and hand, fought
with the Moors in the garden, while others struggled with the water,
endeavoring to escape across the canal, in which attempt many horses
were drowned.
* Pulgar.
Fortunately, the duke del Infantado perceived the snare into which
his companions had fallen, and despatched his light cavalry to their
assistance. The Moors were compelled to flight, and driven along the
road of Elvira up to the gates of Granada.* Several Christian cavaliers
perished in this affray; the bishop himself escaped with difficulty,
having slipped from his saddle in crossing the canal, but saving himself
by holding on to the tail of his charger. This perilous achievement
seems to have satisfied the good bishop’s belligerent propensities. He
retired on his laurels (says Agapida) to his city of Jaen, where, in the
fruition of all good things, he gradually waxed too corpulent for his
corselet, which was hung up in the hall of his episcopal palace, and we
hear no more of his military deeds throughout the residue of the holy
war of Granada.**
* Pulgar.
* * “Don Luis Osorio fue obispo de Jaen desde el ano de 1483, y
presidio in esta. Iglesia hasta el de 1496 in que murio en Flandes, a
donde fue acompanando a la princesa Dona Juana, esposa del archiduque
Don Felipe.”--“Espana Sagrada,” por Fr. M. Risco, tom. 41, trat. 77,
cap. 4.
King Ferdinand, having completed his ravage of the Vega and kept El
Zagal shut up in his capital, conducted his army back through the Pass
of Lope to rejoin Queen Isabella at Moclin.
The fortresses lately taken being well garrisoned and supplied, he
gave the command of the frontier to his cousin, Don Fadrique de Toledo,
afterward so famous in the Netherlands as the duke of Alva. The campaign
being thus completely crowned with success, the sovereigns returned in
triumph to the city of Cordova.