SIEGE OF MALAGIA CONTINUED.--STRATAGEMS OF VARIOUS KINDS.
Great were the exertions now made, both by the besiegers and the
besieged, to carry on the contest with the utmost vigor. Hamet went
the rounds of the walls and towers, doubling the guards and putting
everything in the best posture of defence. The garrison was divided into
parties of a hundred, to each of which a captain was appointed. Some
were to patrol, others to sally forth and skirmish with the enemy,
and others to hold themselves armed and in reserve. Six albatozas, or
floating batteries, were manned and armed with pieces of artillery to
attack the fleet.
On the other hand, the Castilian sovereigns kept open a communication by
sea with various parts of Spain, from which they received provisions
of all kinds; they ordered supplies of powder also from Valencia,
Barcelona, Sicily, and Portugal. They made great preparations also for
storming the city. Towers of wood were constructed to move on wheels,
each capable of holding one hundred men; they were furnished with
ladders to be thrown from their summits to the tops of the walls, and
within those ladders others were encased, to be let down for the descent
of the troops into the city. There were gallipagos, or tortoises,
also being great wooden shields, covered with hides, to protect the
assailants and those who undermined the walls.
Secret mines were commenced in various places: some were intended to
reach to the foundations of the walls, which were to be propped up with
wood, ready to be set on fire; others were to pass under the walls, and
remain ready to be broken open so as to give entrance to the besiegers.
At these mines the army worked day and night, and during these secret
preparations the ordnance kept up a fire upon the city to divert the
attention of the besieged.
In the mean time, Hamet displayed wonderful vigor and ingenuity in
defending the city and in repairing or fortifying by deep ditches the
breaches made by the enemy. He noted also every place where the camp
might be assailed with advantage, and gave the besieging army no
repose night or day. While his troops sallied on the land, his floating
batteries attacked the besiegers on the sea, so that there was incessant
skirmishing. The tents called the Queen’s Hospital were crowded with
wounded, and the whole army suffered from constant watchfulness and
fatigue. To guard against the sudden assaults of the Moors, the trenches
were deepened and palisadoes erected in front of the camp; and in that
part facing Gibralfaro, where the rocky heights did not admit of
such defences, a high rampart of earth was thrown up. The cavaliers
Garcilasso de la Vega, Juan de Zuniga, and Diego de Atayde were
appointed to go the rounds and keep vigilant watch that these
fortifications were maintained in good order.
In a little while Hamet discovered the mines secretly commenced by the
Christians: he immediately ordered counter-mines. The soldiers mutually
worked until they met and fought hand to hand in these subterranean
passages. The Christians were driven out of one of their mines; fire was
set to the wooden framework and the mine destroyed. Encouraged by this
success, the Moors attempted a general attack upon the camp, the mines,
and the besieging fleet. The battle lasted for six hours on land and
water, above and below ground, on bulwark, and in trench and mine; the
Moors displayed wonderful intrepidity, but were finally repulsed at all
points, and obliged to retire into the city, where they were closely
invested, without the means of receiving any assistance from abroad.
The horrors of famine were now added to the other miseries of Malaga.
Hamet, with the spirit of a man bred up to war, considered everything
as subservient to the wants of the soldier, and ordered all the grain
in the city to be gathered and garnered up for the sole use of those
who fought. Even this was dealt out sparingly, and each soldier received
four ounces of bread in the morning and two in the evening for his daily
allowance.
The wealthy inhabitants and all those peacefully inclined mourned over a
resistance which brought destruction upon their houses, death into
their families, and which they saw must end in their ruin and captivity;
still, none of them dared to speak openly of capitulation, or even to
manifest their grief, lest they should awaken the wrath of their fierce
defenders. They surrounded their civic champion, Ali Dordux, the great
and opulent merchant, who had buckled on shield and cuirass and taken
spear in hand for the defence of his native city, and with a large body
of the braver citizens had charge of one of the gates and a considerable
portion of the walls. Drawing Ali Dordux aside, they poured forth their
griefs to him in secret. “Why,” said they, “should we suffer our native
city to be made a mere bulwark and fighting-place for foreign barbarians
and desperate men? They have no families to care for, no property to
lose, no love for the soil, and no value for their lives. They fight to
gratify a thirst for blood or a desire for revenge, and will fight on
until Malaga becomes a ruin and its people slaves. Let us think and act
for ourselves, our wives, and our children. Let us make private terms
with the Christians before it is too late, and save ourselves from
destruction.”
The bowels of Ali Dordux yearned toward his fellow citizens; he
bethought him also of the sweet security of peace and the bloodless
yet gratifying triumphs of gainful traffic. The idea also of a secret
negotiation or bargain with the Castilian sovereigns for the redemption
of his native city was more conformable to his accustomed habits than
this violent appeal to arms, for, though he had for a time assumed
the warrior, he had not forgotten the merchant. Ali Dordux communed,
therefore, with the citizen-soldiers under his command, and they readily
conformed to his opinion. Concerting together, they wrote a proposition
to the Castilian sovereigns, offering to admit the army into the part
of the city entrusted to their care on receiving assurance of protection
for the lives and properties of the inhabitants. This writing they
delivered to a trusty emissary to take to the Christian camp, appointing
the hour and place of his return that they might be ready to admit him
unperceived.
The Moor made his way in safety to the camp, and was admitted to the
presence of the sovereigns. Eager to gain the city without further
cost of blood or treasure, they gave a written promise to grant the
condition, and the Moor set out joyfully on his return. As he approached
the walls where Ali Dordux and his confederates were waiting to receive
him, he was descried by a patrolling band of Gomeres, and considered a
spy coming from the camp of the besiegers. They issued forth and seized
him in sight of his employers, who gave themselves up for lost. The
Gomeres had conducted him nearly to the gate, when he escaped from their
grasp and fled. They endeavored to overtake him, but were encumbered
with armor; he was lightly clad, and he fled for his life. One of
the Gomeres paused, and, levelling his crossbow, let fly a bolt which
pierced the fugitive between the shoulders; he fell and was nearly
within their grasp, but rose again and with a desperate effort attained
the Christian camp. The Gomeres gave over the pursuit, and the citizens
returned thanks to Allah for their deliverance from this fearful
peril. As to the faithful messenger, he died of his wound shortly after
reaching the camp, consoled with the idea that he had preserved the
secret and the lives of his employers.*
* Pulgar, Cronica, p. 3, c. 80.