HOW THE CASTILIAN SOVEREIGNS TOOK POSSESSION OF GRANADA.
Queen Isabella having joined the king, the royal pair, followed by a
triumphant host, passed up the road by the Hill of Martyrs, and thence
to the main entrance of the Alhambra. The grand cardinal awaited them
under the lofty arch of the great Gate of Justice, accompanied by Don
Gutierrez de Cardenas and Aben Comixa. Here King Ferdinand gave the keys
which had been delivered up to him into the hands of the queen; they
were passed successively into the hands of the prince Juan, the grand
cardinal, and finally into those of the count de Tendilla, in whose
custody they remained, that brave cavalier having been named alcayde of
the Alhambra and captain-general of Granada.
The sovereigns did not remain long in the Alhambra on this first visit,
but, leaving a strong garrison there under the count de Tendilla to
maintain tranquillity in the palace and the subjacent city, returned to
the camp at Santa Fe.
We must not omit to mention a circumstance attending the surrender of
the city which spoke eloquently to the hearts of the victors. As the
royal army had advanced in all the pomp of courtly and chivalrous
array, a procession of a different kind came forth to meet it. This was
composed of more than five hundred Christian captives, many of whom had
languished for years in Moorish dungeons. Pale and emaciated, they came
clanking their chains in triumph and shedding tears of joy. They were
received with tenderness by the sovereigns. The king hailed them as good
Spaniards, as men loyal and brave, as martyrs to the holy cause; the
queen distributed liberal relief among them with her own hands, and they
passed on before the squadrons of the army singing hymns of jubilee.
* Abarca, lib. sup.; Zurita, etc.
The sovereigns forebore to enter the city until it should be fully
occupied by their troops and public tranquillity ensured. All this
was done under the vigilant superintendence of the count de Tendilla,
assisted by the marques of Villena, and the glistening of Christian
helms and lances along the walls and bulwarks, and the standards of
the faith and of the realm daunting from the towers, told that the
subjugation of the city was complete. The proselyte prince, Cid Hiaya,
now known by the Christian appellation of Don Pedro de Granada Vanegas,*
was appointed chief alguazil of the city, and had charge of the Moorish
inhabitants, and his son, lately the prince Alnayar, now Alonso de
Granada Vanegas, was appointed admiral of the fleet.
* Cid Hiaya was made cavalier of the order of Santiago. He and his
son intermarried with the Spanish nobility, and the marqueses of
Compotejar are among their descendants. Their portraits and the
portraits of their grandsons are to be seen in one of the rooms of the
Generalife at Granada.
It was on the sixth of January, the Day of Kings and festival of the
Epiphany, that the sovereigns made their triumphant entry with grand
military parade. First advanced, we are told, a splendid escort of
cavaliers in burnished armor and superbly mounted. Then followed the
prince Juan, glittering with jewels and diamonds; on each side of him,
mounted on mules, rode the grand cardinal, clothed in purple, Fray
Hernando de Talavera, bishop of Airla and the archbishop-elect of
Granada. To these succeeded the queen and her ladies, and the king,
managing in galliard style, say the Spanish chroniclers, a proud and
mettlesome steed (un caballo arrogante). Then followed the army in
shining columns, with flaunting banners and the inspiring clamor
of military music. The king and queen (says the worthy Fray Antonio
Agapida) looked on this occasion as more than mortal: the venerable
ecclesiastics, to whose advice and zeal this glorious conquest ought
in a great measure be attributed, moved along with hearts swelling
with holy exultation, but with chastened and downcast looks of edifying
humility; while the hardy warriors, in tossing plumes and shining steel,
seemed elevated with a stern joy at finding themselves in possession of
this object of so many toils and perils. As the streets resounded
with the tramp of steeds and swelling peals of music the Moors buried
themselves in the deepest recesses of their dwellings. There they
bewailed in secret the fallen glory of their race, but suppressed their
groans, lest they should be heard by their enemies and increase their
triumph.
The royal procession advanced to the principal mosque, which had been
consecrated as a cathedral. Here the sovereigns offered up prayers and
thanksgivings, and the choir of the royal chapel chanted a triumphant
anthem, in which they were joined by all the courtiers and cavaliers.
Nothing (says Fray Antonio Agapida) could exceed the thankfulness to
God of the pious king Ferdinand for having enabled him to eradicate from
Spain the empire and name of that accursed heathen race, and for the
elevation of the cross in that city wherein the impious doctrines of
Mahomet had so long been cherished. In the fervor of his spirit he
supplicated from heaven a continuance of its grace and that this
glorious triumph might be perpetuated.* The prayer of the pious monarch
was responded to by the people, and even his enemies were for once
convinced of his sincerity.
* The words of Fray Antonio Agapida are little more than an echo
of those of the worthy Jesuit father Mariana (1. 25, c. 18).
When the religious ceremonies were concluded the court ascended to the
stately palace of the Alhambra and entered by the great Gate of Justice.
The halls lately occupied by turbaned infidels now rustled with stately
dames and Christian courtiers, who wandered with eager curiosity
over this far-famed palace, admiring its verdant courts and gushing
fountains, its halls decorated with elegant arabesques and storied with
inscriptions, and the splendor of its gilded and brilliantly painted
ceilings.
It had been a last request of the unfortunate Boabdil--and one which
showed how deeply he felt the transition of his fate--that no person
might be permitted to enter or depart by the gate of the Alhambra
through which he had sallied forth to surrender his capital. His request
was granted; the portal was closed up, and remains so to the present
day--a mute memorial of that event.*
* Garibay, Compend. Hist., lib. 40, c. 42. The existence of this
gateway and the story connected with it are perhaps known to few, but
were identified in the researches made to verify this history. The
gateway is at the bottom of a tower at some distance from the main body
of the Alhambra. The tower had been rent and ruined by gunpowder at the
time when the fortress was evacuated by the French. Great masses lie
around half covered by vines and fig trees. A poor man, by the name
of Mateo Ximenes, who lives in one of the halls among the ruins of the
Alhambra, where his family has resided for many generations, pointed out
to the author the gateway, still closed up with stones. He remembered
to have heard his father and grandfather say that it had always been
stopped up, and that out of it King Boabdil had gone when he surrendered
Granada. The route of the unfortunate king may be traced thence across
the garden of the convent of Los Martyros, and down a ravine beyond,
through a street of gypsy caves and hovels, by the gate of Los Molinos,
and so on to the Hermitage of St. Sebastian. None but an antiquarian,
however, will be able to trace it unless aided by the humble historian
of the place, Mateo Ximenes.
The Spanish sovereigns fixed their throne in the presence-chamber of
the palace, so long the seat of Moorish royalty. Hither the principal
inhabitants of Granada repaired to pay them homage and kiss their hands
in token of vassalage, and their example was followed by deputies from
all the towns and fortresses of the Alpuxarras which had not hitherto
submitted.
Thus terminated the war of Granada, after ten years of incessant
fighting, equalling (says Fray Antonio Agapida) the far-famed siege of
Troy in duration, and ending, like that, in the capture of the city.
Thus ended also the dominion of the Moors in Spain, having endured seven
hundred and seventy-eight years from the memorable defeat of Roderick,
the last of the Goths, on the banks of the Guadalete. The authentic
Agapida is uncommonly particular in fixing the epoch of this event. This
great triumph of our holy Catholic faith, according to his computation,
took place in the beginning of January in the year of our Lord 1492,
being 3655 years from the population of Spain by the patriarch Tubal,
3797 from the general deluge, 5453 from the creation of the world,
according to Hebrew calculation, and in the month Rabic, in the eight
hundred and ninety-seventh year of the Hegira, or flight of Mahomet,
whom may God confound! saith the pious Agapida.
APPENDIX.
The Chronicle of the Conquest of Granada is finished, but the reader may
be desirous of knowing the subsequent fortunes of some of the principal
personages.
The unfortunate Boabdil retired with his mother, his wife, his son,
his sister, his vizier and bosom-counsellor Aben Comixa, and many other
relatives and friends, to the valley of Purchena, where a small but
fertile territory had been allotted him, comprising several towns of
the Alpuxarras, with all their rights and revenues. Here, surrounded by
obedient vassals, devoted friends, and a loving family, and possessed
of wealth sufficient to enable him to indulge in his habitual luxury
and magnificence, he for a time led a tranquil life, and may have looked
back upon his regal career as a troubled dream from which he had happily
awaked. Still, he appears to have pleased himself with a shadow of
royalty, making occasionally progresses about his little domains,
visiting the different towns, receiving the homage of the inhabitants,
and bestowing largesses with a princely hand. His great delight,
however, was in sylvan sports and exercises, with horses, hawks, and
hounds, being passionately fond of hunting and falconry, so as to pass
weeks together in sporting campaigns among the mountains. The jealous
suspicions of Ferdinand followed him into his retreat. No exertions were
spared by the politically pious monarch to induce him to embrace the
Christian religion as a means of severing him in feelings and sympathies
from his late subjects; but he remained true to the faith of his
fathers, and it must have added not a little to his humiliation to live
a vassal under Christian sovereigns.
His obstinacy in this respect aggravated the distrust of Ferdinand,
who, looking back upon the past inconstancy of the Moors, could not feel
perfectly secure in his newly-conquered territories while there was one
within their bounds who might revive pretensions to the throne and rear
the standard of an opposite faith in their behalf. He caused,
therefore, a vigilant watch to be kept upon the dethroned monarch in his
retirement, and beset him with spies who were to report all his words
and actions. The reader will probably be surprised to learn that the
foremost of these spies was Aben Comixa! Ever since the capture and
release of the niece of the vizier by the count de Tendilla, Aben Comixa
had kept up a friendly correspondence with that nobleman, and through
this channel had gradually been brought over to the views of Ferdinand.
Documents which have gradually come to light leave little doubt that
the vizier had been corrupted by the bribes and promises of the Spanish
king, and had greatly promoted his views in the capitulation of Granada.
It is certain that he subsequently received great estates from the
Christian sovereigns. While residing in confidential friendship with
Boabdil in his retirement Aben Comixa communicated secretly with
Hernando de Zafra, the secretary of Ferdinand, who resided at Granada,
giving him information of all Boabdil’s movements, which the secretary
reported by letter to the king. Some of the letters of the secretary
still exist in the archives of Samancas, and have been recently
published in the collection of unedited documents.*
* El rey Muley Babdali (Boabdil) y sus criados andan continuamente
a casa con glagos y azores, y alla esta agora en al campo de Dalias y en
Verja, aunque su casa tiene en Andarax, y dican que estara alla por todo
este mes.--“Carta Secreta de Hernando de Zafra,” Decembre, 1492
The jealous doubts of Ferdinand were quickened by the letters of his
spies. He saw in the hunting campaigns and royal progresses of
the ex-king a mode of keeping up a military spirit and a concerted
intelligence among the Moors of the Alpuxarras that might prepare them
for future rebellion. By degrees the very residence of Boabdil within
the kingdom became incompatible with Ferdinand’s ideas of security. He
gave his agents, therefore, secret instructions to work upon the mind
of the deposed monarch, and induce him, like El Zagal, to relinquish
his Spanish estates for valuable considerations and retire to Africa.
Boabdil, however, was not to be persuaded: to the urgent suggestions of
these perfidious counsellors he replied that he had given up a kingdom
to live in peace, and had no idea of going to a foreign land to
encounter new troubles and to be under the control of alarabes.*
* Letter of Hernando de Zafra to the sovereigns, Dec. 9, 1493.
Ferdinand persisted in his endeavors, and found means more effectual of
operating on the mind of Boabdil and gradually disposing him to enter
into negotiations. It would appear that Aben Comixa was secretly active
in this matter in the interests of the Spanish monarch, and was with him
at Barcelona as the vizier and agent of Boabdil. The latter, however,
finding that his residence in the Alpuxarras was a cause of suspicion
and uneasiness to Ferdinand, determined to go himself to Barcelona, have
a conference with the sovereigns, and conduct all his negotiations with
them in person. Zafra, the secretary of Ferdinand, who was ever on
the alert, wrote a letter from Granada apprising the king of Boabdil’s
intention, and that he was making preparations for the journey. He
received a letter in reply, charging him by subtle management to
prevent, or at least delay, the coming of Boabdil to court.* The crafty
monarch trusted to effect through Aben Comixa as vizier and agent of
Boabdil an arrangement which it might be impossible to obtain from
Boabdil himself. The politic plan was carried into effect. Boabdil
was detained at Andarax by the management of Zafra. In the mean time a
scandalous bargain was made on the 17th March, 1493, between Ferdinand
and Aben Comixa, in which the latter, as vizier and agent of Boabdil,
though without any license or authority from him, made a sale of his
territory and the patrimonial property of the princesses for eighty
thousand ducats of gold, and engaged that he should depart for Africa,
taking care, at the same time, to make conditions highly advantageous
for himself.**
* Letter of the sovereigns to Hernando de Zafra from Barcelona,
Feb., 1493.
* *Alcantara, Hist. Granad., iv. c. 18.
This bargain being hastily concluded, Yusef Aben Comixa loaded the
treasure upon mules and departed for the Alpuxarras. Here, spreading the
money before Boabdil, “Senior,” said he, “I have observed that as long
as you live here you are exposed to constant peril. The Moors are rash
and irritable; they may make some sudden insurrection, elevate your
standard as a pretext, and thus overwhelm you and your friends with
utter ruin. I have observed also that you pine away with grief, being
continually reminded in this country that you were once its sovereign,
but never more must hope to reign. I have put an end to these evils.
Your territory is sold--behold the price of it! With this gold you may
buy far greater possessions in Africa, where you may live in honor and
security.”
When Boabdil heard these words he burst into a sudden transport of rage,
and, drawing his scimetar, would have sacrificed the officious Yusef on
the spot had not the attendants interfered and hurried the vizier from
his presence.*
* Marmol, Rebel. 1. 1, c. 22.
The rage of Boabdil gradually subsided: he saw that he had been duped
and betrayed, but he knew the spirit of Ferdinand too well to hope
that he would retract the bargain, however illegitimately effected.
He contented himself, therefore, with obtaining certain advantageous
modifications, and then prepared to bid a final adieu to his late
kingdom and his native land.
It took some months to make the necessary arrangements, or, rather,
his departure was delayed by a severe domestic affliction. Morayma, his
gentle and affectionate wife, worn out by agitations and alarms, was
gradually sinking into the grave, a prey to devouring melancholy. Her
death took place toward the end of August. Hernando de Zafra apprised
King Ferdinand of the event as one propitious to his purposes, removing
an obstacle to the embarkation, which was now fixed for the month of
September. Zafra was instructed to accompany the exiles until he saw
them landed on the African coast.
The embarkation, however, did not take place until some time in the
month of October. A caracca had been prepared at the port of Adra for
Boabdil and his immediate family and friends. Another caracca and two
galliots received a number of faithful adherents, amounting, it is said,
to eleven hundred and thirty, who followed their prince into exile.
A crowd of his former subjects witnessed his embarkation. As the sails
were unfurled and swelled to the breeze, and the vessel bearing Boabdil
parted from the land, the spectators would fain have given him a
farewell cheering; but the humbled state of their once proud sovereign
forced itself upon their minds, and the ominous surname of his youth
rose involuntarily to their tongues: “Farewell, Boabdil! Allah preserve
thee, ‘El Zogoybi!’” burst spontaneously from their lips. The unlucky
appellation sank into the heart of the expatriated monarch, and tears
dimmed his eyes as the snowy summits of the mountains of Granada
gradually faded from his view.
He was received with welcome at the court of his relative, Muley Ahmed,
caliph of Fez, the same who had treated El Zagal with such cruelty in
his exile. For thirty-four years he resided in this court, treated with
great consideration, and built a palace or alcazar at Fez, in which,
it is said, he endeavored to emulate the beauties and delights of the
Alhambra.
The last we find recorded of him is in the year 1536, when he followed
the caliph to the field to repel the invasion of two brothers of the
famous line of the Xerifes, who at the head of Berber troops had taken
the city of Morocco and threatened Fez. The armies came in sight of each
other on the banks of the Guadal Hawit, or river of slaves, at the ford
of Balcuba. The river was deep, the banks were high and broken, and
the ford could only be passed in single file; for three days the armies
remained firing at each other across the stream, neither venturing to
attempt the dangerous ford. At length the caliph divided his army into
three battalions: the command of the first he gave to his brother-in-law
and to Aliatar, son of the old alcayde of Loxa; another division he
commanded himself; and the third, composed of his best marksmen, he
put under the command of his son, the prince of Fez, and Boabdil, now
a gray-haired veteran. The last mentioned column took the lead, dashed
boldly across the ford, scrambled up the opposite bank, and attempted to
keep the enemy employed until the other battalions should have time to
cross. The rebel army, however, attacked them with such fury that the
son of the king of Fez and several of the bravest alcaydes were slain
upon the spot; multitudes were driven back into the river, which was
already crowded with passing troops. A dreadful confusion took place;
the horse trampled upon the foot; the enemy pressed on them with fearful
slaughter; those who escaped the sword perished by the stream; the river
was choked by the dead bodies of men and horses and by the scattered
baggage of the army. In this scene of horrible carnage fell Boabdil,
truly called El Zogoybi, or the Unlucky--an instance, says the ancient
chronicler, of the scornful caprice of fortune, dying in defence of the
kingdom of another after wanting spirit to die in defence of his own.*
* Marmol, Descrip. de Africa, p. 1, 1. 2, c. 40; idem, Hist. Reb. de
los Moros, lib. 1, c. 21.
The aspersion of the chronicler is more caustic than correct. Boabdil
never showed a want of courage in the defence of Granada, but he wanted
firmness and decision: he was beset from the first by perplexities, and
ultimately by the artifices of Ferdinand and the treachery of those in
whom he most confided.*
* In revising this account of the ultimate fortunes of Boabdil the
author has availed himself of facts recently brought out in Alcantara’s
History of Granada, which throw strong lights on certain parts of the
subject hitherto covered with obscurity.
ZORAYA, THE STAR OF THE MORNING.
Notwithstanding the deadly rivalship of this youthful sultana with Ayxa
la Horra, the virtuous mother of Boabdil, and the disasters to which her
ambitious intrigues gave rise, the placable spirit of Boabdil bore her
no lasting enmity. After the death of his father he treated her with
respect and kindness, and evinced a brotherly feeling toward her sons
Cad and Nazar. In the capitulations for the surrender of Granada he took
care of her interests, and the possessions which he obtained for her
were in his neighborhood in the valleys of the Alpuxarras. Zoraya,
however, under the influence of Queen Isabella, returned to the
Christian faith, the religion of her infancy, and resumed her Spanish
name of Isabella. Her two sons, Cad and Nazar, were baptized under the
names of Don Fernando and Don Juan de Granada, and were permitted to
take the titles of infantas or princes. They intermarried with noble
Spanish families, and the dukes of Granada, resident in Valladolid, are
descendants of Don Juan (once Nazar), and preserve to the present day
the blazon of their royal ancestor, Muley Abul Hassan, and his motto, Le
Galib ile Ala, God alone is conqueror.
FATE OF ABEN COMIXA.
An ancient chronicle which has long remained in manuscript, but has
been published of late years in the collection of Spanish historical
documents,* informs us of the subsequent fortunes of the perfidious Aben
Comixa. Discarded and despised by Boabdil for his treachery, he repaired
to the Spanish court, and obtained favor in the eyes of the devout queen
Isabella by embracing the Christian religion, being baptized under her
auspices with the name of Don Juan de Granada. He even carried his zeal
for his newly-adopted creed so far as to become a Franciscan friar.
By degrees his affected piety grew cool and the friar’s garb became
irksome. Taking occasion of the sailing of some Venetian galleys from
Almeria, he threw off his religious habit, embarked on board of one of
them, and crossed to Africa, where he landed in the dress of a Spanish
cavalier.
* Padilla, Cronica de Felipe el Hermosa, cap. 18, y 19, as cited
by Alcantara.
In a private interview with Abderraman, the Moorish king of Bujia, he
related his whole history, and declared that he had always been and
still was at heart a true Mahometan. Such skill had he in inspiring
confidence that the Moorish king took him into favor and appointed him
governor of Algiers. While enjoying his new dignity a Spanish squadron
of four galleys, under the celebrated count Pedro de Navarro, anchored
in the harbor in 1509. Aben Comixa paid the squadron a visit of ceremony
in his capacity of governor, gave the count repeated fetes, and in
secret conversations with him laid open all the affairs of the king of
Bujia, and offered, if the count should return with sufficient force,
to deliver the city into his hands and aid him in conquering the whole
territory. The count hastened back to Spain and made known the proposed
treachery to the Cardinal Ximenes, then prime minister of Spain. In
the following month of January he was sent with thirty vessels and four
thousand soldiers to achieve the enterprise. The expedition of Navarro
was successful. He made himself master of Bujia and seized in triumph on
the royal palace, but he found there the base Aben Comixa weltering in
his blood and expiring under numerous wounds. His treachery had been
discovered, and the vengeance of the king of Bujia had closed his
perfidious career.
DEATH OF THE MARQUES OF CADIZ.
The renowned Roderigo Ponce de Leon, marques-duke of Cadiz, was
unquestionably the most distinguished among the cavaliers of Spain for
his zeal, enterprise, and heroism in the great crusade of Granada. He
began the war by the capture of Alhama; he was engaged in almost every
inroad and siege of importance during its continuance; and was present
at the surrender of the capital, the closing scene of the conquest. The
renown thus acquired was sealed by his death, which happened in the
forty-eighth year of his age, almost immediately at the close of his
triumphs and before a leaf of his laurels had time to wither. He died at
his palace in the city of Seville on the 27th day of August, 1492, but a
few months after the surrender of Granada, and of an illness caused by
exposures and fatigues undergone in this memorable war. That honest
chronicler, Andres Bernaldez, the curate of Los Palacios, who was a
contemporary of the marques, draws his portrait from actual knowledge
and observation. He was universally cited (says he) as the most perfect
model of chivalrous virtue of the age. He was temperate, chaste, and
rigidly devout, a benignant commander, a valiant defender of his
vassals, a great lover of justice, and an enemy to all flatterers,
liars, robbers, traitors, and poltroons.
His ambition was of a lofty kind: he sought to distinguish himself and
his family by heroic and resounding deeds, and to increase the patrimony
of his ancestors by the acquisition of castles, domains, vassals,
and other princely possessions. His recreations were all of a warlike
nature; he delighted in geometry as applied to fortifications, and spent
much time and treasure in erecting and repairing fortresses. He relished
music, but of a military kind--the sound of clarions and sackbuts, of
drums and trumpets. Like a true cavalier, he was a protector of the sex
on all occasions, and an injured woman never applied to him in vain for
redress. His prowess was so well known, and his courtesy to the fair,
that the ladies of the court, when they accompanied the queen to the
wars, rejoiced to find themselves under his protection; for wherever his
banner was displayed the Moors dreaded to adventure. He was a faithful
and devoted friend, but a formidable enemy; for he was slow to forgive,
and his vengeance was persevering and terrible.
The death of this good and well-beloved cavalier spread grief and
lamentation throughout all ranks. His relations, dependants, and
companions-in-arms put on mourning for his loss, and so numerous were
they that half of Seville was clad in black. None, however, deplored his
death more deeply and sincerely than his friend and chosen companion Don
Alonso de Aguilar.
The funeral ceremonies were of the most solemn and sumptuous kind. The
body of the marques was arrayed in a costly shirt, a doublet of brocade,
a sayo or long robe of black velvet, a marlota or Moorish tunic of
brocade reaching to the feet, and scarlet stockings. His sword, superbly
gilt, was girded to his side, as he used to wear it when in the field.
Thus magnificently attired, the body was enclosed in a coffin which was
covered with black velvet and decorated with a cross of white damask. It
was then placed on a sumptuous bier in the centre of the great hall of
the palace. Here the duchess made great lamentation over the body of her
lord, in which she was joined by her train of damsels and attendants, as
well as by the pages and esquires and innumerable vassals.
In the close of the evening, just before the Ave Maria, the funeral
train issued from the palace. Ten banners were borne around the bier,
the particular trophies of the marques won from the Moors by his valor
in individual enterprises before King Ferdinand had commenced the war
of Granada. The procession was swelled by an immense train of bishops,
priests, and friars of different orders, together with the civil and
military authorities and all the chivalry of Seville, headed by the
count of Cifuentes, at that time intendente or commander of the city. It
moved slowly and solemnly through the streets, stopping occasionally and
chanting litanies and responses. Two hundred and forty waxen tapers
shed a light like the day about the bier. The balconies and windows
were crowded with ladies, who shed tears as the funeral train passed by,
while the women of the lower classes were loud in their lamentations,
as if bewailing the loss of a father or a brother. On approaching the
convent of St. Augustine the monks came forth with the cross and tapers
and eight censers and conducted the body into the church, where it lay
in state until all the vigils were performed by the different orders,
after which it was deposited in the family tomb of the Ponces in the
same church, and the ten banners were suspended over the sepulchre.*
* Cura de los Palacios, c.104.
The tomb of the valiant Roderigo Ponce de Leon, with his banners
mouldering above it, remained for ages an object of veneration with all
who had read or heard of his virtues and achievements. In the year
1810, however, the chapel was sacked by the French, its altars were
overturned, and the sepulchres of the family of the Ponces shattered to
pieces. The present duchess of Benevente, the worthy descendant of this
illustrious and heroic line, has since piously collected the ashes
of her ancestors, restored the altar, and repaired the chapel. The
sepulchres, however, were utterly destroyed: an inscription in gold
letters on the wall of the chapel to the right of the altar is all that
denotes the place of sepulture of the brave Ponce de Leon.
THE LEGEND OF THE DEATH OF DON ALONSO DE AGUILAR.
To such as feel an interest in the fortune of the valiant Don Alonso
de Aguilar, the chosen friend and companion-in-arms of Ponce de Leon,
marques of Cadiz, and one of the most distinguished heroes of the war
of Granada, a few particulars of his remarkable fate will not be
unacceptable.
For several years after the conquest of Granada the country remained
feverish and unquiet. The zealous efforts of the Catholic clergy to
effect the conversion of the infidels, and the coercion used for that
purpose by government, exasperated the stubborn Moors of the mountains.
Several missionaries were maltreated, and in the town of Dayrin two of
them were seized and exhorted, with many menaces, to embrace the Moslem
faith; on their resolutely refusing they were killed with staves and
stones by the Moorish women and children, and their bodies burnt to
ashes.*
* Cura de los Palacios, c. 165.
Upon this event a body of Christian cavaliers assembled in Andalusia to
the number of eight hundred, and, without waiting for orders from the
king, revenged the death of these martyrs by plundering and laying waste
the Moorish towns and villages. The Moors fled to the mountains, and
their cause was espoused by many of their nation who inhabited those
rugged regions. The storm of rebellion began to gather and mutter its
thunders in the Alpuxarras. They were echoed from the Serrania of Ronda,
ever ready for rebellion, but the strongest hold of the insurgents was
in the Sierra (12) Bermeja, or chain of Red Mountains, which lie near
the sea, the savage rocks and precipices of which may be seen from
Gibraltar.
When King Ferdinand heard of these tumults he issued a proclamation
ordering all the Moors of the insurgent regions to leave them within ten
days and repair to Castile; giving secret instructions, however, that
those who should voluntarily embrace the Christian faith might be
permitted to remain. At the same time he ordered Don Alonso de Aguilar
and the counts of Urena and Cifuentes to march against the rebels.
Don Alonso de Aguilar was at Cordova when he received the commands of
the king. “What force is allotted us for this expedition?” said he.
On being told, he perceived that the number of troops was far from
adequate. “When a man is dead,” said he, “we send four men into his
house to bring forth the body. We are now sent to chastise these Moors,
who are alive, vigorous, in open rebellion, and ensconced in their
castles; yet they do not give us man to man.” These words of the brave
Alonso de Aguilar were afterward frequently repeated, but, though he saw
the desperate nature of the enterprise, he did not hesitate to undertake
it.
Don Alonso was at that time in the fifty-first year of his age--a
warrior in whom the fire of youth was yet unquenched, though tempered
by experience. The greater part of his life had been spent in camp and
field until danger was as his habitual element. His muscular frame had
acquired the firmness of iron without the rigidity of age. His armor and
weapons seemed to have become a part of his nature, and he sat like a
man of steel on his powerful war-horse.
He took with him on this expedition his son, Don Pedro de Cordova, a
youth of bold and generous spirit, in the freshness of his days, and
armed and arrayed with the bravery of a young Spanish cavalier. When the
populace of Cordova beheld the veteran father, the warrior of a thousand
battles, leading forth his son to the field, they bethought themselves
of the family appellation. “Behold,” cried they, “the eagle teaching his
young to fly! Long live the valiant line of Aguilar!”*
* “Aguilar,” the Spanish for eagle.
The prowess of Don Alonso and of his companions-in-arms was renowned
throughout the Moorish towns. At their approach, therefore, numbers
of the Moors submitted, and hastened to Ronda to embrace Christianity.
Among the mountaineers, however, were many of the Gandules, a tribe from
Africa, too proud of spirit to bend their necks to the yoke. At their
head was a Moor named El Feri of Ben Estepar, renowned for strength
and courage. At his instigation his followers gathered together their
families and most precious effects, placed them on mules, and, driving
before them their flocks and herds, abandoned their valleys and retired
up the craggy passes of the Sierra (13) Bermeja. On the summit was a
fertile plain surrounded by rocks and precipices, which formed a natural
fortress. Here El Feri placed all the women and children and all the
property. By his orders his followers piled great stones on the rocks
and cliffs which commanded the defiles and the steep sides of the
mountain, and prepared to defend every pass that led to his place of
refuge.
The Christian commanders arrived, and pitched their camp before the town
of Monarda, a strong place, curiously fortified, and situated at the
foot of the highest part of the Sierra (14) Bermeja. Here they remained
for several days, unable to compel a surrender. They were separated from
the skirt of the mountain by a deep barranca, or ravine, at the bottom
of which flowed a small stream. The Moors commanded by El Feri drew down
from their mountain-height, and remained on the opposite side of the
brook to defend a pass which led up to their stronghold.
One afternoon a number of Christian soldiers in mere bravado seized
a banner, crossed the brook, and, scrambling up the opposite bank,
attacked the Moors. They were followed by numbers of their companions,
some in aid, some in emulation, but most in hope of booty. A sharp
action ensued on the mountain-side. The Moors were greatly superior
in number, and had the vantage-ground. When the counts of Urena and
Cifuentes beheld the skirmish, they asked Don Alonso de Aguilar his
opinion. “My opinion,” said he, “was given at Cordova, and remains the
same: this is a desperate enterprise. However, the Moors are at hand,
and if they suspect weakness in us it will increase their courage and
our peril. Forward then to the attack, and I trust in God we shall gain
a victory.” So saying, he led his troops into the battle.*
* Bleda, 1. 5, c. 26.
On the skirts of the mountain were several level places, like terraces;
here the Christians pressed valiantly upon the Moors, and had the
advantage; but the latter retreated to the steep and craggy heights,
whence they hurled darts and rocks upon their assailants. They defended
their passes and defiles with valor, but were driven from height to
height until they reached the plain on the summit of the mountain where
their wives and children were sheltered. Here they would have made a
stand, but Alonso de Aguilar, with his son Don Pedro, charged upon
them at the head of three hundred men and put them to flight with great
carnage. While they were pursuing the flying enemy the rest of the army,
thinking the victory achieved, dispersed themselves over the little
plain in search of plunder. They pursued the shrieking females, tearing
off their necklaces, bracelets, and anklets of gold, and they found so
much treasure of various kinds collected in this spot that they threw by
their armor and weapons to load themselves with booty.
Evening was closing. The Christians, intent upon spoil, had ceased to
pursue the Moors, and the latter were arrested in their flight by the
cries of their wives and children. Their leader, El Feri, threw himself
before them. “Friends, soldiers,” cried he, “whither do you fly? Whither
can you seek refuge where the enemy cannot follow you? Your wives, your
children, are behind you--turn and defend them; you have no chance for
safety but from the weapons in your hands.”
The Moors turned at his words. They beheld the Christians scattered
about the plain, many of them without armor, and all encumbered with
spoil. “Now is the time!” shouted El Feri: “charge upon them while laden
with your plunder. I will open a path for you.” He rushed to the attack,
followed by his Moors, with shouts and cries that echoed through
the mountains. The scattered Christians were seized with panic, and,
throwing down their booty, began to fly in all directions. Don Alonso
de Aguilar advanced his banner and endeavored to rally them. Finding his
horse of no avail in these rocky heights, he dismounted, and caused his
men to do the same: he had a small band of tried followers, with which
he opposed a bold front to the Moors, calling on the scattered troops to
rally in the rear.
Night had completely closed. It prevented the Moors from seeing the
smallness of the force with which they were contending, and Don Alonso
and his cavaliers dealt their blows so vigorously that, aided by
the darkness, they seemed multiplied to ten times their number.
Unfortunately, a small cask of gunpowder blew up near to the scene of
action. It shed a momentary but brilliant light over all the plain and
on every rock and cliff. The Moors beheld, with surprise, that they
were opposed by a mere handful of men, and that the greater part of
the Christians were flying from the field. They put up loud shouts of
triumph. While some continued the conflict with redoubled ardor,
others pursued the fugitives, hurling after them stones and darts and
discharging showers of arrows. Many of the Christians in their terror
and their ignorance of the mountains, rushed headlong from the brinks of
precipices and were dashed in pieces.
Don Alonso still maintained his ground, but, while some of the Moors
assailed him in front, others galled him with all kinds of missiles from
the impending cliffs. Some of the cavaliers, seeing the hopeless nature
of the conflict, proposed to abandon the height and retreat down the
mountain. “No,” said Don Alonso proudly; “never did the banner of
the house of Aguilar retreat one foot in the field of battle.” He had
scarcely uttered these words when his son Pedro was stretched at his
feet. A stone hurled from a cliff had struck out two of his teeth, and
a lance passed quivering through his thigh. The youth attempted to rise,
and, with one knee on the ground, to fight by the side of his father.
Don Alonso, finding him wounded, urged him to quit the field. “Fly, my
son,” said he; “let us not put everything at venture upon one hazard.
Conduct thyself as a good Christian, and live to comfort and honor thy
mother.”
Don Pedro still refused to leave his side. Whereupon Don Alonso ordered
several of his followers to bear him off by force. His friend Don
Francisco Alvarez of Cordova, taking him in his arms, conveyed him to
the quarters of the count of Urena, who had halted on the height at
some distance from the scene of battle for the purpose of rallying and
succoring the fugitives. Almost at the same moment the count beheld his
own son, Don Pedro Giron, brought in grievously wounded.
In the mean time, Don Alonso, with two hundred cavaliers, maintained the
unequal contest. Surrounded by foes, they fell, one after another,
like so many stags encircled by the hunters. Don Alonso was the last
survivor, without horse and almost without armor, his corselet unlaced
and his bosom gashed with wounds. Still, he kept a brave front to the
enemy, and, retiring between two rocks, defended himself with such valor
that the slain lay in a heap before him.
He was assailed in this retreat by a Moor of surpassing strength and
fierceness. The contest was for some time doubtful, but Don Alonso
received a wound in the head, and another in the breast, which made
him stagger. Closing and grappling with his foe, they had a desperate
struggle, until the Christian cavalier, exhausted by his wounds, fell
upon his back. He still retained his grasp upon his enemy. “Think not,”
cried he, “thou hast an easy prize; know that I am Don Alonso, he of
Aguilar!”--“If thou art Don Alonso,” replied the Moor, “know that I am
El Feri of Ben Estepar.” They continued their deadly struggle, and
both drew their daggers, but Don Alonso was exhausted by seven ghastly
wounds: while he was yet struggling his heroic soul departed from his
body, and he expired in the grasp of the Moor.
Thus fell Alonso de Aguilar, the mirror of Andalusian chivalry--one
of the most powerful grandees of Spain for person, blood, estate, and
office. For forty years he had made successful war upon the Moors--in
childhood by his household and retainers, in manhood by the prowess of
his arm and in the wisdom and valor of his spirit. His pennon had always
been foremost in danger; he had been general of armies, viceroy of
Andalusia, and the author of glorious enterprises in which kings were
vanquished and mighty alcaydes and warriors laid low. He had slain many
Moslem chiefs with his own arm, and among others the renowned Ali Atar
of Loxa, fighting foot to foot, on the banks of the Xenil. His judgment,
discretion, magnanimity, and justice vied with his prowess. He was the
fifth lord of his warlike house that fell in battle with the Moors.
“His soul,” observes the worthy Padre Abarca, “it is believed, ascended
to heaven to receive the reward of so Christian a captain; for that
very day he had armed himself with the sacraments of confession and
communion.” *
* Abarca, Anales de Aragon, Rey xxx. cap. ii.
The Moors, elated with their success, pursued the fugitive Christians
down the defiles and sides of the mountains. It was with the utmost
difficulty that the count de Urena could bring off a remnant of his
forces from that disastrous height. Fortunately, on the lower slope of
the mountain they found the rear-guard of the army, led by the count
de Cifuentes, who had crossed the brook and the ravine to come to their
assistance. As the fugitives came flying in headlong terror down the
mountain it was with difficulty the count kept his own troops from
giving way in panic and retreating in confusion across the brook. He
succeeded, however, in maintaining order, in rallying the fugitives,
and checking the fury of the Moors; then, taking his station on a rocky
eminence, he maintained his post until morning, sometimes sustaining
violent attacks, at other times rushing forth and making assaults upon
the enemy. When morning dawned the Moors ceased to combat, and drew up
to the summit of the mountain.
It was then that the Christians had time to breathe and to ascertain the
sad loss they had sustained. Among the many valiant cavaliers who had
fallen was Don Francisco Ramirez of Madrid, who had been captain-general
of artillery throughout the war of Granada, and contributed greatly by
his valor and ingenuity to that renowned conquest. But all other griefs
and cares were forgotten in anxiety for the fate of Don Alonso de
Aguilar. His son, Don Pedro de Cordova, had been brought off with great
difficulty from the battle, and afterward lived to be marques of Priego;
but of Don Alonso nothing was known, except that he was left with a
handful of cavaliers fighting valiantly against an overwhelming force.
As the rising sun lighted up the red cliffs of the mountains the
soldiers watched with anxious eyes if perchance his pennon might be
descried fluttering from any precipice or defile, but nothing of the
kind was to be seen. The trumpet-call was repeatedly sounded, but empty
echoes alone replied. A silence reigned about the mountain-summit which
showed that the deadly strife was over. Now and then a wounded warrior
came dragging his feeble steps from among the cliffs and rocks, but on
being questioned he shook his head mournfully and could tell nothing of
the fate of his commander.
The tidings of this disastrous defeat and of the perilous situation of
the survivors reached King Ferdinand at Granada: he immediately marched
at the head of all the chivalry of his court to the mountains of Ronda.
His presence with a powerful force soon put an end to the rebellion.
A part of the Moors were suffered to ransom themselves and embark for
Africa; others were made to embrace Christianity; and those of the town
where the Christian missionaries had been massacred were sold as slaves.
From the conquered Moors the mournful but heroic end of Alonso de
Aguilar was ascertained.
On the morning after the battle, when the Moors came to strip and bury
the dead, the body of Don Alonso was found among those of more than
two hundred of his followers, many of them alcaydes and cavaliers of
distinction. Though the person of Don Alonso was well known to the
Moors, being so distinguished among them both in peace and war, yet it
was so covered and disfigured with wounds that it could with difficulty
be recognized. They preserved it with great care, and on making their
submission delivered it up to King Ferdinand. It was conveyed with great
state to Cordova, amidst the tears and lamentations of all Andalusia.
When the funeral train entered Cordova, and the inhabitants saw the
coffin containing the remains of their favorite hero, and the war-horse
led in mournful trappings on which they had so lately seen him sally
forth from their gates, there was a general burst of grief throughout
the city. The body was interred with great pomp and solemnity in the
church of St. Hypolito.
Many years afterward his granddaughter, Dona Catalina of Aguilar and
Cordova, marchioness of Priego, caused his tomb to be altered. On
examining the body the head of a lance was found among the bones,
received without doubt among the wounds of his last mortal combat. The
name of this accomplished and Christian cavalier has ever remained a
popular theme of the chronicler and poet, and is endeared to the public
memory by many of the historical ballads and songs of his country. For
a long time the people of Cordova were indignant at the brave count de
Urena, who they thought had abandoned Don Alonso in his extremity;
but the Castilian monarch acquitted him of all charge of the kind and
continued him in honor and office. It was proved that neither he nor
his people could succor Don Alonso, or even know his peril, from the
darkness of the night. There is a mournful little Spanish ballad or
romance which breathes the public grief on this occasion, and the
populace on the return of the count de Urena to Cordova assailed him
with one of its plaintive and reproachful verses:
Count Urena! Count Urena!
Tell us, where is Don Alonso!
(Dezid conde Urena!
Don Alonso, donde queda?)
* Bleda, 1. 5, c. 26.