In the Alpujarras, where everything was already upon a hostile

footing, the case was different, and the wild mountaineers hailed

with enthusiasm the advent of a sovereign and the welcome prospect

of war and depredation. The tempest of rebellion burst forth at once

in every settlement of the sierras. The excesses committed by the

insurgents are incredible in their atrocity and worthy of a race of

savages. Their animosity was especially directed against the priests,

whom they considered as the instigators and the instruments of their

misfortunes. Some had their mouths stuffed with gunpowder and their

heads blown to atoms. Others were compelled to sit before the altar

while their former parishioners tore out the hairs of their heads

and eyebrows one by one and then slashed them to death with knives

and razors. Others, still, were subjected to ingenious tortures and

barbarous mutilation; compelled to swallow their own eyes, which had

been torn from the sockets; to be gradually dismembered; to have their

tongues and hearts cut out and thrown to dogs. Hundreds of monks were

seethed in boiling oil. Nuns were subjected to shocking indignities and

then tortured to death. The glaring hypocrisy in which the Moriscoes

had been living was disclosed by their conduct as soon as they believed

themselves emancipated from the restraints under which they had chafed

so long. They exulted in every form of sacrilege. Dressed in sacerdotal

habiliments, they travestied the solemn ceremonies of the mass. They

defiled and trampled upon the Host. The churches were filled with

laughing, jeering crowds that polluted every portion of the sanctuary.

Sacred images, donated by pious monarchs and blessed by famous

prelates, were broken to pieces and burnt. Ecclesiastical hatred had,

as an indispensable sign of regeneration, forced all Moslem converts

to eat pork, a kind of food doubly offensive from inherited prejudice

and Koranic prohibition. In retaliation for this annoying requirement,

the insurgents, with mock solemnity, and invested with all the

paraphernalia of Catholic worship, sacrificed hogs upon the Christian

altars. Every form of violence, every outrage which newly-found freedom

exasperated by the memory of long-continued injury could devise, was

perpetrated by the enraged Moriscoes. So unbridled was their fury that

even the common usages of war were constantly violated; prisoners

taken in battle were put to death without mercy, and it was publicly

declared that not a Christian should be left alive within the insurgent

territory. This resolution, promulgated without his knowledge, was

discountenanced by Ibn-Ommeyah, and he deposed the commanders who had

by their arbitrary conduct and impolitic cruelty insulted the honor of

his crown, but not until irreparable wrong had been committed.

The news of the insurrection, the exaggeration of its extent, and

the horrors which followed in its train produced a general panic in

Granada. All Christians who could do so took refuge in the Alhambra.

The Moriscoes, in vain protesting their innocence, barricaded

themselves in their houses, and such as imprudently ventured into the

streets perished at the hands of the infuriated mob. The contest of

jurisdiction which had so long existed between the civil and military

authorities, each of whom claimed the supremacy, and neither of whom

was willing to sacrifice his pretensions, even in the face of a cunning

and dangerous enemy, added to the perplexities of the situation.

Thoroughly acquainted with the discord of their masters, the Moriscoes,

already elated by the exploits of their countrymen, of which they

had early and accurate intelligence, began to manifest a suspicious

activity. The prospect of war called to arms the turbulent and

dissolute spirits of the kingdom. The feudal laws, which were still in

force in the Peninsula, prevented, through the disputes of the nobles

for precedence, that submission to authority requisite for successful

operations. With these independent bands there was no question of

patriotism; the national standard was merely a rallying point for

pillage, and that commander was the most popular whose neglect of

discipline afforded the greatest opportunities for unbounded license.

These troops were commanded by the Marquis de Mondejar, Governor of

Granada, and the Marquis de los Velez, both of whom were indebted

rather to their names than to their qualifications for the prominence

they enjoyed, for the one was without discretion and the other without

experience.

In the campaign that ensued every consideration of military virtue,

of pity, of humanity, was cast aside. The Christians fought with an

energy dictated by fanaticism and rapacity, the Moors with all the

reckless courage of despair. The Castilian officers, so far from

restraining the excesses of the soldiery, encouraged them in order

to increase their ferocity and render reconciliation impossible till

all the available booty could be secured. The Moors of Granada paid

dearly for the apathy with which they had received the overtures of

their more daring countrymen. The lawless rabble of the Spanish camp,

which recognized no restraint but that of superior force, was quartered

upon the wealthy citizens of the Albaycin. It is notorious that even

the plain-spoken old chroniclers of the time blushed to record the

outrages inflicted by these savage volunteers, callous to every appeal

of decency or honor. An extraordinary tax of six thousand ducats

was imposed upon the Albaycin for the purpose of provisioning the

army; and the Moorish farmers of the Vega were compelled under heavy

penalties to furnish every day twenty thousand pounds of bread at a

price arbitrarily fixed by the authorities. Thus the unhappy Moriscoes

of the capital, too timorous to second an attempt to regain their

independence, were forced to contribute to the discomfiture of their

friends, to undergo unspeakable insults and frightful suffering, and in

the end to sacrifice their property and in many instances their lives

as the result of their distrust of a cause which lack of intelligent

co-operation rendered hopeless from the very beginning. The activity of

the Spanish generals, and the superiority in numbers of their troops,

soon gained for them the advantage. The campaign resolved itself into

a succession of skirmishes and marauding expeditions, whose monotony

was occasionally relieved by promiscuous butchery. In consequence of

a disturbance provoked by the insolent conduct of a Spanish soldier,

thirteen hundred prisoners, of whom a thousand were women, were

massacred at the Castle of Jubiles. The plans of the royal commanders

were hampered by the insubordination of the soldiery; their insatiable

greed placed the army in desperate situations, whence by good

fortune alone it could be extricated, and the frequency of desertion

seriously threatened the efficiency of a force unrestrained either by

self-respect or military law. Driven from point to point, the army

of Ibn-Ommeyah was finally beaten and dispersed. The Alpujarras were

occupied by lines of fortified posts, which prevented the assembling of

any considerable body of insurgents; the mountaineers of the adjacent

sierras were gradually reduced to submission, and the insurrection

was at last only represented by the fugitive prince and a handful of

followers, whose fidelity was sorely tried by the tempting reward

offered for the head of their sovereign.

The Moriscoes, terrified by the misfortunes which they had undergone,

offered, for the sake of present security, to submit to any conditions

that might be imposed,--to deportation, to exile, to confiscation, to

the maintenance of the troops that might be detailed as their guards

against future hostility. Different and irreconcilable opinions

prevailed among the officials of the crown as to the policy to be

adopted; one party advocated amnesty, another extermination. In the

mean time, while their superiors were wrangling, the soldiers pursued

without interruption the agreeable diversion of rapine. Although

hostilities had ceased, small bands of military brigands roamed

everywhere without control, robbing houses, destroying property,

ravishing women. Inoffensive peasants, who had never borne arms, were

seized, carried to Granada, and publicly sold as slaves in the markets

of the city by these outlaws, with the knowledge and connivance of the

authorities. The latter quarrelled over the division of the spoil and

the questionable distinction acquired by conflagration and massacre.

No faith was kept with the vanquished. Safe-conducts signed by the

highest officials were not respected. No Morisco was exempt from

molestation and violence; no house was secure from the intrusion of

prowling and bloodthirsty ruffians. When a body of Christian troops

passed through a Moorish community everything portable departed with

it, the rest was burned. There was deliberate method in this wholesale

destruction of property. The army desired nothing so little as peace.

War had been profitable even beyond expectation. The booty already

secured was immense, but the greater portion had as yet escaped the

avarice of the conqueror. The general and the common soldier alike cast

longing glances upon the wealth of the Albaycin; upon the productive

estates of the Vega, still cultivated by Moorish industry; upon the

untold wealth in gold and jewels known to be hoarded by the residents

of Guadix, Baza, and Almeria. Leaving all else out of consideration,

the Moriscoes themselves, who numbered more than half a million, if

condemned to slavery, would realize a prodigious sum. These were the

sinister motives which urged an indefinite prosecution of the war, and

it was not long before the desired object was attained. The Moriscoes,

driven to despair by the duplicity of their enemies whose violence

they could not resist, again fled to the mountains and sought the

standard of Ibn-Ommeyah. The Spanish mob of Granada, excited by rumors

of conspiracy, at once massacred the defenceless Moorish occupants of

the prisons to the number of several hundred. Their personal effects

were appropriated by the governor; their lands were confiscated for

the benefit of the crown; and their widows and orphans were reduced to

beggary. A judgment of the court subsequently obtained confirmed this

arbitrary act, stating that its decision was based upon the fact that,

“while some of the prisoners were actually guilty, all were guilty in

intention.” The affair was regarded as a suggestive warning, and in the

future the insurgents did not receive or expect assistance from their

friends in Granada.

Once more the flames of war were kindled in the sierras, and the scenes

of indiscriminate butchery were resumed. The power of Ibn-Ommeyah,

strengthened by thousands of desperate men fleeing from persecution, by

the monfis, by the corsairs, and by numbers of savage adventurers from

the northern coast of Africa, now became more formidable than ever.

That power he exercised with ferocious severity. The discipline of his

troops was improved. Marauding parties of Christians from the principal

cities were surprised and cut to pieces. Prominent officials who had

ventured to advocate surrender were promptly executed for treason. The

discouraging and hitherto hopeless task of enlisting the sympathy and

aid of the Mohammedan princes of Fez and Algiers was resumed, but with

no better prospect of success than before.

Philip, fully informed of the incapacity and mutual distrust of those

hitherto charged with the government of Granada, now determined to

commit the subjection of the rebels to a general whose rank and talents

would command the obedience and check the insubordination of the

ill-disciplined bands composing the bulk of the Spanish army. Don John

of Austria, his half-brother, the natural son of Charles V., a youth

whose opportunities had as yet given little indication of the military

genius he possessed, but in whom discerning eyes had already perceived

the existence of those brilliant qualities subsequently displayed with

such lustre at Lepanto, was assigned to the command.

The greatest enthusiasm was aroused by this appointment. Nobles and

peasants alike, ambitious of serving under a prince of the blood,

flocked by hundreds to the royal standard. The new commander, although

inexperienced, perfected his arrangements with all the caution and

skill of a veteran. The army was thoroughly reorganized. Disorder

was checked. Outlaws and beggars were expelled from the camp. As

far as the annoying feudal regulations would permit, discipline was

enforced. Licensed brigandage, which had done so much to destroy the

efficiency of the troops, was punished with impartial rigor. Under

these improved conditions the army, which had hitherto resembled a

disorderly mob, now assumed the appearance of a compact and formidable

force. Meanwhile, the insurgents had not been idle. Instructed by

experience and adversity, Ibn-Ommeyah introduced many necessary reforms

into his civil and military administration; purchased arms in Africa;

invited the presence of corsairs; procured supplies; and, dividing his

territory into districts whose arrangement facilitated mutual support

and defence, awaited with resolution and confidence the approach of

the enemy. The first operations of the campaign were favorable to the

Moriscoes, whose successes, while neither material nor decisive,

nevertheless resulted in substantial additions to their ranks. Although

able to bring several thousand men into the field, their want of

artillery, ignorance of engineering science, and traditional dependence

on partisan warfare made their victories worthless. The latter

were obtained in skirmishes where but a few hundreds were engaged,

the nature of the ground and the opportunities for surprise giving

unperceived assailants the advantage.

Irritated by these reverses, a decisive step, long contemplated, and

frequently from politic motives postponed, was now resolved upon by the

government. The rumor of impending revolt was diligently circulated

throughout Granada. As no evidence was subsequently disclosed to

confirm this report, it was probably entirely fictitious, but it

accomplished the object for which it was promulgated. A panic seized

the excitable populace, and a universal demand arose for the expulsion

of the Moriscoes. The authorities were quick to profit by the commotion

and the fears which their own perfidy aroused; and, at a concerted

signal, twenty thousand arquebusiers, with lighted fuses, occupied the

approaches to the Albaycin. The Moriscoes, when ordered to assemble

in their churches, anticipating a massacre, abandoned themselves to

despair. It required all the influence of the municipal authorities,

and the royal word of Don John of Austria himself that their lives

would be spared, to reassure the terror-stricken prisoners. Crowded

together in the aisles, they passed an agonizing and sleepless night.

The next morning the males between the ages of ten and sixty years,

with their hands bound behind them, were conducted outside the walls,

where a decree of perpetual banishment was pronounced against them and

their kindred. A few days of grace were accorded to these unfortunates

to dispose of, or rather to sacrifice, their personal property; and

then, divided into several companies, each escorted by a strong guard,

they began their journey towards central Andalusia, Estremadura, and

Castile, whither, for purposes of security, it had been decided to

conduct them.

The exiles were about eleven thousand in number. They included the

descendants of the wealthiest and noblest Moorish families of Granada,

and, indeed, of the entire Peninsula. Many of them traced their

ancestry back to the princely families of the khalifate, eminent alike

for intellectual accomplishments and military renown. In their keeping

were the ancient traditions of their race; the rare memorials of the

Moslem conquest and domination; the remnants of Arabic literature which

had escaped the destructive zeal of Ximenes and the exhaustive search

of prying alguazils and inquisitors. Their houses still displayed

the splendid decorations peculiar to the palmy days of the emirate;

marble halls and alabaster fountains; hangings of embossed and gilded

leather; stuccoes that in elegance of design and delicacy of execution

equalled those of the Alhambra. In the Vega were many estates,

cultivated by their dependents, which returned each year a large and

profitable income. All of these landed possessions were unceremoniously

appropriated by the Spaniards, and the personal effects sold by the

exiles yielded scarcely a tithe of their value. Driven by force from

their homes, and despoiled on every side, the Moriscoes pursued their

sorrowful way. Reared in comfort and affluence and accustomed to

luxury, they were ill-fitted for a long and toilsome journey. Few of

the multitude that started arrived at their destination. The hardships

incident to travel and exposure to the burning heat proved fatal to

hundreds. Many expired from grief, from hunger, from disease. Others

were wantonly killed by their guards, who plundered, without hesitancy

or compunction, both the living and the dead. When this source of

profit was exhausted, the strongest men and the most attractive women

were sold as slaves. The condition of the few survivors who arrived at

Seville was so deplorable that even the compassion of ecclesiastics,

whose lives had been passed in the infliction of persecution and

torture, was excited. The greater portion of the inhabitants, however,

regarded these victims of tyranny with indifference or curiosity. The

sufferings of tender youth, of decrepit age, of beauty in distress,

awakened no sympathy; and if any feelings were exhibited by the

throngs that lined the highways along which, under a scorching sun,

the fainting exiles staggered, they were those of bitter enmity and of

exultation at the misfortunes of heretics who had forfeited all title

to humanity through the inherited blood of a despised and conquered

race.

No beneficial consequences resulted from this measure, as cruel as

it was unwise. The insurgents continued their depredations. Every

straggler was killed; and no foraging party whose force was less than

that of a regiment could hope to return. The Moriscoes by degrees

became more daring, and it was no longer safe for individuals to

venture beyond the limits of the camp. The encounters were all to the

advantage of the rebels; and the great city of Almeria, by the merest

accident, escaped falling into their hands. The latter, however, were

not only unable to cope with the entire power of the Spanish monarchy,

but were even unprovided with the means necessary for the retention of

their paltry conquests. Even in a situation where unity was more than

ever indispensable to self-preservation, the irrepressible tendency of

the Arab mind to factional disturbance began to manifest itself. Nine

centuries of national disaster had been insufficient to repress the

tribal hatred and the thirst for private vengeance which had sapped

the vitality and finally torn into fragments the realm of a vast and

splendid empire. The Moor was incapable of profiting by experience.

The law of reprisal, that accursed legacy of his Bedouin forefathers,

had never been lost sight of, even amidst all the culture and all the

wisdom of his civilization. It was the most powerful and effective

weapon that his enemies possessed, and it was eternally used to his

prejudice. To its aid the Reconquest was far more indebted than to

the energy of Alfonso VI. or to the craft of Ferdinand the Catholic.

It won more battles than all the conquering sovereigns from Pelayus

to Isabella. No Castilian prince had ever failed to recognize its

importance or to profit by its employment. And now, in the remote

Alpujarras, the last resort of Moorish valor and ambition, it was

again to be wielded with even more fatal and demoralizing effects than

had ever marked its use since the troublous epoch which followed the

decline of the Ommeyade supremacy.

The popularity of Ibn-Ommeyah had of late greatly suffered through

the strictness of the discipline which he had inaugurated and the

oppressive acts of his advisers, for the most part men of obscure

lineage and grasping avarice. The soldiers, accustomed to the exercise

of the greatest freedom in their conduct and in their treatment of the

enemy, viewed with unconcealed disgust the restraints to which they

were subjected. In the councillors of their king, the rich Moriscoes,

who had forfeited their lives and expended their treasure in sustaining

his pretensions, saw a band of robbers, who abused the opportunities

of their positions for their own pecuniary benefit. Especially were

those whose wealth made them conspicuous the objects of the selfish

animadversion of these base-born officials. No person of eminence,

whether civilian or military officer, was safe from the denunciation of

informers. The experience of Ibn-Ommeyah, and his frequent escapes from

premeditated treachery, had made him impulsive, vindictive, and cruel.

Constantly exposed to danger, he was only too ready to listen to the

voice of suspicion, and in the court of a despot the punishment follows

swiftly upon the accusation. Besides the alienation of many of his

principal adherents from the above-mentioned causes, Ibn-Ommeyah had

recently gained for himself, by an egregious act of folly, the enmity

of one of the most powerful tribes in the kingdom.

Among the most distinguished families of Granada was that of the

Beni-Alguazil-al-Karimi, in which was vested, by hereditary right,

the office of vizier of the district of Ujijar. Inherited rivalry,

the pride of conscious merit, and the jealousy of power had made the

Beni-Alguazil the enemies of the house of Ibn-Ommeyah. Their hostility,

manifested upon more than one occasion, had aroused the apprehensions

of the Moorish prince; and the assassination of Miguel de Rojas,

the chief of the tribe, was, not without probability, attributed to

his instigation. In consequence, the Beni-Alguazil, while unwilling

to assist the Christian foe, maintained a suspicious and sullen

demeanor, and, with the characteristic vindictiveness of the Arab,

awaited patiently the moment of reprisal. With a perfidy natural

to his character, and from the effects of which he was ultimately

destined to perish, Ibn-Ommeyah had adopted the custom of promoting

to favor and apparent confidence those whom he had already marked for

destruction. Among those who shared this perilous honor was Diego

Alguazil, a member of the rival clan, whose animosity had been soothed

by the gifts and the consideration he received at the hands of his

sovereign. In his harem was a lovely slave, the perfection of whose

charms, imprudently disclosed by her master, aroused the curiosity

and inflamed the desires of Ibn-Ommeyah. Considerations of policy or

justice were of trifling moment where the ungovernable passions of the

Moorish king were concerned; the slave was rudely appropriated without

apology or compensation; and this arbitrary invasion of the rights of

a subject raised up for Ibn-Ommeyah an implacable enemy. The ambition

of the beautiful Zahrâ, who aspired to the position of Sultana, was

disappointed by her continuance in an inferior rank, and, her hopes

thus blasted, she found in her former master a pliant and serviceable

instrument of revenge. The support of other malcontents, dissatisfied

with the cruelty and arrogance of their king, was readily secured;

the fears of the royal guard of six hundred Turks were excited by an

ingenious, but discreditable, stratagem; and Ibn-Ommeyah, torn from the

arms of his women and thrown into prison, perished miserably before

morning at the hands of the executioner. His death seemed not entirely

unjustifiable, for he proclaimed with his last breath his secret and

unshaken belief in the Christian religion. The hypocrisy, which, for

the sake of luxury and power, could feign attachment to a creed that

upon the slightest pretext it was ready to betray, was not unworthily

punished by the treachery of a slave. Ibn-Abu, a cousin of Ibn-Ommeyah,

succeeded to the empty honors and dangerous responsibilities of a

tottering throne. The treasures of the palace and the seraglio were

divided among the conspirators. The guards, whose fidelity to the new

administration was suspected, were disbanded; the unpopular officials,

deprived of the power which they had abused and the wealth which they

had accumulated by extortion and perfidy, were despoiled and exiled;

and the new King, crowned at Lanjar with all the pomp which the limited

resources that a fugitive court and an impoverished treasury could

command, assumed, with an appearance of confidence, the direction of a

government divided against itself and confronted with the combined and

resistless power of the Spanish monarchy.

Ibn-Abu, when invested with the royal dignity, of whose precarious

character he was perfectly aware, but whose acceptance he was afraid to

refuse, was far past the prime of life. In the course of an eventful

and romantic career, he had undergone many exciting and hazardous

experiences. From his youth identified with the party hostile to the

Christians, his fidelity to the Moslem cause had been severely tested

on numerous occasions. Implicated with the monfis, he had submitted

to torture and had been sent to the galleys rather than betray his

comrades. Again, for refusing to disclose the hiding-place of his

sovereign, he was subjected to a shocking and indescribable mutilation.

His sufferings had confirmed his loyalty and intensified his hatred;

the noble qualities with which he was endowed endeared him to his

countrymen; but his indecision, his lack of energy, and his inability

to profit by the means at his disposal in the presence of any sudden

exigency unfitted him for the position of responsibility to which he

had been so unexpectedly promoted. In spite of the disadvantages under

which he labored, he, however, soon placed his forces upon a more

effective footing, and his position was greatly strengthened by the

discord of his enemies.

The reforms inaugurated by Don John of Austria proved impracticable

when their full import became known to the soldiers and they began

to experience the inconveniences attendant upon military restraint.

Feudal customs also interfered with the enforcement of discipline;

and the lords, fearful of a retrenchment of their own privileges,

indulged their vassals in acts of rapine prejudicial to the well-being

of the entire army. The quarrels and recriminations of the Marquis de

Mondejar and the Marquis de los Velez, so far from being extinguished

by the appointment of a commander-in-chief, became more aggravated

and violent than ever. The power of the latter was hampered by

contradictory orders from Madrid, and the prosecution of energetic

measures was prevented by incessant and acrimonious disputes. As soon

as the prospect of booty was diminished, the army was threatened

with dissolution. Desertions were so common and their effect was

so demoralizing that all reviews were abandoned, in order that the

enemy might not become acquainted with the diminished numbers of

their antagonists. Scores of officers were cashiered for peculation;

but their successors, unintimidated by the penalty, followed,

without hesitation, their disgraceful example. In the markets of

the city, the government supplies were publicly exposed for sale by

the commissaries. The camp was filled with spies. Not only had many

Moriscoes enlisted with the object of betraying their comrades, but

the Spaniards themselves constantly sold both official secrets and

arms to the rebels. Entire garrisons mutinied because of the necessary

precautions instituted by their commanders; and it was not unusual for

parties organized for robbery to leave their posts in violation of

the express orders of the general. Of these marauders few returned,

but their fate failed to deter others; the love of plunder prevailed

over every other incentive; and the safety of the troops was often

jeopardized by the misconduct of unprincipled adventurers, whose

insolence and insubordination even the highest authority seemed unable

to restrain. These breaches of order and discipline were by no means

confined to the ranks; every grade of the military was affected; and

no less a personage than the Marquis de los Velez himself assumed the

right to act independently of the commander-in-chief, and to disregard

all orders from head-quarters unless they suited his convenience or

promoted his interest.

The army of Ibn-Abu amounted to twelve thousand men, of whom four

thousand were thoroughly drilled arquebusiers. This force, though

for the most part well equipped, experienced in war, aided by the

advantages of situation, and fighting for liberty on its own ground,

was unable to accomplish any important result, even when engaged with

a demoralized enemy. The achievements of the Moriscoes, limited to

the blockade of a few fortresses and to marauding expeditions that

harassed the cultivators of the Vega, are scarcely worthy of notice,

still less of detailed narration. In the vicinity of Orgiba and Baza

their troops appeared in force, but retired at once at the approach

of the Christians. It was only by the practice of treacherous methods

that the Moorish tactics ever prevailed. The want of stability and

resolution which had proved fatal to the permanence of the Hispano-Arab

empire survived in the final operations of the Morisco rebellion. The

superior steadiness of the Spanish infantry invariably carried the day,

even against overwhelming odds. The Moors were easily disheartened;

after a trifling repulse it was impossible to rally them; and, even

when protected by fortifications, they could not withstand the dogged

pertinacity which was a prominent trait of the Castilian.

With the appearance of Don John of Austria in the field, hostilities

were prosecuted with more rigor and with greater cruelty. The

unimportant but bloody successes of the Moors had infused into the

Spanish soldiery an even more pitiless spirit than before. The Austrian

prince, at first disposed to leniency, soon became, through association

and prejudice, as unfeeling as the meanest soldier in the ranks. The

siege and assault of Galera, which was the turning-point of the war,

exemplified, in a striking degree, the dominant principle which

actuated the minds of those who directed the campaign. That town,

situated upon an isolated rock, was one of the most strongly fortified

places in Spain. In addition to its position, its facilities for

defence were excellent. Its garrison was composed of three thousand

veterans. Its supplies were ample, and the prudence of Ibn-Abu, who

fully appreciated its value, had long before filled to overflowing

its magazine and its arsenal. Two falconets, one of which had been

captured from the Marquis de los Velez, defended the castle, an unusual

advantage, for the Moriscoes were generally unprovided even with such

insignificant artillery. A concealed gallery cut through the mountain,

and extending below the bed of the river at its base, provided the

inhabitants with water, whose existence, unknown to the enemy, made

its destruction impossible. In addition to the garrison, the walls of

Galera sheltered a population of five thousand, including residents and

refugees.

Every precaution that skill and experience could suggest had been

adopted to strengthen the defences of a place regarded as already

impregnable. Barricades were erected at frequent intervals in the

streets, and between them the houses were pierced with openings, to

facilitate communication and afford means of retreat. The town, built

in terraces upon the sloping rock, offered an ascending series of lines

of resistance. Those ordinarily considered as non-combatants were

animated by a spirit of determination equal, if not superior, to that

of the garrison, and their presence promised to be an important aid

rather than a drawback in the impending contest.

Twelve thousand men, commanded by Don John of Austria in person,

invested Galera on the eighteenth day of January, 1570. The approaches

to the town were defended with stubborn resolution. When forced behind

the walls, it became evident that the position of the Moriscoes was so

strong that ordinary methods of assault must prove useless. Mining was

therefore resorted to; and a passage, terminating under the citadel,

was cut with infinite trouble through the solid rock. As soon as it

was completed, a storming party was detailed for the attack, and the

explosion of forty-five barrels of gunpowder announced that the mine

had been sprung. Little damage was done to the castle, however; the

walls remained intact; and the Spaniards were driven back with heavy

loss. Two other mines were opened and exploded, and three assaults

were made simultaneously. One explosion effected some injury, but the

ruins raised by the other counteracted it; the loss of the insurgents

was trifling; and again the Spaniards sustained a bloody and serious

repulse.

Another charge, in which the besiegers--infuriated by the fall of

their general, who was struck by a bullet which his armor of proof

fortunately deflected--succeeded in passing the ramparts, procured

for them admission into the streets. Here they were met by scarcely

less formidable obstacles, and their advance was, foot by foot,

contested. Amidst these frightful scenes, the people of Galera vied in

gallantry with the soldiers of the garrison. Old men fought bravely

in the foremost line for the preservation of their homes. The wounded

and dying received the grateful ministrations of delicate women,

who fearlessly exposed themselves to fire in the discharge of the

offices of mercy. Even children of tender years, undismayed by the

smoke and din of battle, carried missiles to repel the enemy. The

contest soon assumed the character of a hand-to-hand encounter. The

barricaded streets, the battlemented houses--built of stone and with

few openings--checked at each step the progress of the assailants.

For nine hours with incessant fury the battle raged. At length the

survivors were driven into an angle of the fortifications from whence

there was no escape. Here, in the face of a relentless foe, the

Moriscoes made their final stand, without the hope of clemency or the

fear of death. Young girls died, scimetar in hand, with a resolution

foreign to their age and sex. Fathers deliberately killed their wives

and children, and then rushed forward to perish on the weapons of the

Spaniards. Even the veterans of Italy, accustomed to the atrocities

characteristic of the wars of the sixteenth century, were sickened

by the frightful carnage. The population was almost annihilated. Of

eight thousand persons who had composed it, fifteen hundred women and

children alone survived the final assault, which, not inclusive of the

losses of the besiegers, cost thirty-six hundred lives. The avarice of

the victors had spared four hundred helpless captives, whom Don John

of Austria, enraged at the casualties which his army had suffered,

caused to be butchered in his presence. In this diabolical massacre

the halberdiers of the royal guard took a conspicuous part, encouraged

by the approving gestures of their commander, who regarded with pious

complacency the extermination of these rebellious infidels.

The siege of Galera is memorable, not only on account of the gallantry

of the defence, but also from the fact that it indicates the true

beginning of the military career of the future hero of Lepanto. While

in reality reflecting but little credit upon the reputation of that

prince, the popularity he acquired by the achievement discloses the

moral perversity of the public mind in that fanatical age. Not a word

was uttered in censure of the savage vindictiveness directed against

the aged and the helpless, a class whose condition appeals to the most

generous impulses of mankind, but whose fate was universally applauded

by bigots of every degree, as one step more towards the extirpation

of heresy. A spirit of inherent deviltry seemed to distinguish for

centuries the princes of the monarchy established by Ferdinand and

Isabella. The progressive decadence of that monarchy from the day of

its foundation--imperceptible at first, and concealing the incurable

defects of the Castilian polity by the spurious glory of unprofitable

wars and ruinous triumphs, and the genuine splendors of unparalleled

discoveries, whose proceeds were employed for the oppression and

debasement of countless millions of human beings--is one of the most

significant and instructive events in the history of mankind.

The capture of Galera was a dearly purchased victory. The character of

the resistance offered by its defenders did not afford a flattering

prospect for the success of similar enterprises in the future. Many

important strongholds, as difficult of approach, of equal strength,

and of larger population, were still in the hands of the insurgents.

The fate of the place, while a warning, served rather to confirm the

obstinacy than to arouse the trepidation of the Moriscoes. Their

dauntless courage had left hundreds of their enemies on the field. The

bodies of Moor and Christian alike strewed the ramparts; and in the

streets through which had surged the ever-advancing tide of battle had

fallen many of the most distinguished nobles in the Spanish service.

Realizing the difficulties he was liable to encounter, Don John

made a demand upon the King for men and money. Reinforcements were

easily obtained, but only through the clergy, who, as a rule, were

always ready to profit by a crusade, but who generally regarded their

spiritual aid as abundantly sufficient, and were never eager to furnish

substantial contributions, could funds for the prosecution of the war

be procured. This was accomplished by the establishment of religious

brotherhoods in every diocese, whose members, by the purchase of

indulgences, could thus perform a service of signal merit to the Church

and, at the same time, secure absolution for their sins. The scheme

proved remarkably successful; and larger sums were eventually collected

than those yielded by the sale of similar concessions issued for this

purpose directly from the Holy See.

Papal influence, at that time predominant in European politics, had,

immediately after the storming of Galera, tendered to the Austrian

prince, through Philip, the place of generalissimo of the Holy League

against the Turks. The vast international interests which depended

upon the proper exercise of this office could not be neglected or

their protection deferred until after many months had been consumed

in suppressing the revolt of a few thousand rebels. By that time the

Ottoman fleet would have obtained the supremacy of the Mediterranean,

and an innumerable horde of bloodthirsty fanatics have descended

upon the continent of Europe. While military prestige was presumably

essential to one accepting a position of such responsibility and

power, the risks were too great and the field too narrow to seek

it in a campaign of such doubtful results as that against the

Moriscoes. Peremptory orders were sent Don John to hasten by diplomacy

what it had been demonstrated would be both difficult and tedious

to secure by arms. An attempt was therefore made to corrupt the

fidelity of Fernando-al-Habaqui, the favorite councillor of Ibn-Abu,

whose wisdom and discernment, like those of many statesmen of his

time, were superior to his patriotism and integrity. In various

interviews, nominally appointed for purposes relating to the exchange

of prisoners, the co-operation of this influential personage was

obtained; he was promised an unconditional pardon; and the lives of

those who surrendered voluntarily were to be spared. As second in

command, he was enabled to control a large extent of territory in

the accomplishment of his treacherous design; all the detachments of

Morisco troops outside the Alpujarras and within his jurisdiction

were suddenly withdrawn; the dismayed inhabitants were abandoned to

their fate; many of those taken were reduced to slavery or sent to the

galleys; some succeeded in escaping to the mountains; and the entire

district of the River Almanzora, thus driven to submission, yielded

such a multitude of captives that the general, unable to feed or

control them, was compelled to leave them unmolested until arrangements

could be made for their final disposition. A royal decree recently

promulgated had ordered the removal of all the Moriscoes of the lately

conquered districts to Castile. This measure, nominally adopted for

public security, had, in fact, its origin in more ignoble motives;

in the country of the insurgents a considerable number of Moorish

proprietors had succeeded, amidst the general confusion, in retaining

their estates; and the effectual means of disposing of obnoxious

neighbors by enforced migrations had demonstrated its value when the

Moriscoes of the Albaycin had perished miserably on the highways. The

unfortunate victims of state policy and religious persecution were

surrounded and herded like cattle; their number is unrecorded, but it

must have amounted to thousands; the few effects which they possessed

they were generously permitted to sell for a trifle; and, shelterless

and almost naked, they were distributed over the deserts of La Mancha,

where the savage peasantry, considering them as intruders, inflicted

upon these wretched exiles every outrage which malignity could devise

or lawlessness execute. The presence of the Moriscoes in Castile, at

that time a recent event, no doubt suggested to the fertile mind

of Cervantes one of the most entertaining episodes in the crowning

masterpiece of Spanish literature.

The remaining Morisco strongholds, contrary to general expectation, and

discouraged by the treason of Al-Habaqui, were far from emulating the

heroic example of Galera. Seron, Purchena, Tijola, all well-fortified

towns, submitted without serious resistance. Negotiations, now

authorized by Ibn-Abu, were still carried on with Al-Habaqui, whose

treachery does not seem to have destroyed the harmony existing

between himself and his sovereign. The impatience of Don John for the

termination of hostilities induced him to publish a proclamation of

partial and conditional amnesty. Its terms granted life to all, without

distinction, who within twenty days should surrender; promised that

men between the ages of fifteen and fifty, who within the specified

time should deliver to the proper officials an arquebuse or a

cross-bow, should not be sold as slaves; and required that the leaders

of the revolt, and such as were unwilling to take advantage of the

proclamation, should be given up as an indispensable preliminary to

leniency towards those who submitted. The ambiguity which pervaded the

document caused it to be regarded with suspicion, and the Moriscoes,

who had learned by repeated experience the duplicity of their

enemies, declined to accept conditions whose uncertainty offered such

inducements to abuse and misconstruction, even if they had not been

actually drawn up for that purpose.

Unable any longer to cope with his adversaries in the open field,

Ibn-Abu adopted the more effective policy of guerilla warfare. His

army, divided into strong detachments, was posted at advantageous

points whence the operations of the enemy could be observed and

communication easily maintained. In this way the invaders were placed

at a great disadvantage. The Moors retired before their advance; the

towns were evacuated; all property was removed or concealed; convoys

were cut off; and the army of the Duke of Sesa, who commanded the

Christians, was almost reduced to extremity by famine. It became

absolutely necessary to establish a base of supplies, and the Marquis

of Favara was despatched with a considerable force to Calahorra. The

Spaniards reached their destination in safety; but their movements had

not escaped the vigilance of the mountaineers; and their return march,

conducted without the precautions adopted by every wise commander,

encountered an ambuscade in the valley of Ravaha. Here the road, so

constructed that four men could with difficulty move abreast, was

blocked by loaded beasts of burden, purposely left there by the Moors;

and the soldiers, tempted by the hope of plunder, broke into disorder

to seize them. The measures of Ibn-Abu had been taken with consummate

skill. The Spaniards, hopelessly entangled in the narrow defile and

completely surrounded, were ruthlessly slaughtered. In former attacks

the mountains had always resounded with the piercing war-cries of

the assailants, but now not a sound, save the scattering reports of

arquebuses and the whistling of arrows, broke the ominous stillness

of the scene. The advance guard and the centre had been destroyed

before the Marquis was even apprized of the presence of an enemy. He

effected his escape only by superhuman exertion, and of the sixteen

hundred soldiers who composed his command fourteen hundred atoned for

the military crimes of official negligence and disregard of discipline.

On the Moorish side not a man was killed, and less than twenty were

wounded. History affords but few parallels to the battle of Ravaha

when both the numbers engaged and the immunity of the victors are

considered.

This disaster compelled a precipitate retreat, and, unmolested by the

enemy, who had ample opportunities to intercept them, the Spaniards

fell back upon Adra. Such was their desperate condition from hunger

that the gardens and orchards in the neighborhood were stripped of

everything edible, and the chronicles relate that not even a leaf

remained. The capture of the insignificant fortress of Castil-de-Ferro,

whose garrison numbered less than a hundred, was the only exploit which

relieved the disastrous monotony of the Duke of Sesa’s campaign. The

Alpujarras, although still occupied by the Moriscoes, were practically

untenable. Every hostile army which had entered their defiles had

marked with utter devastation an area of many square leagues. The

fields were laid waste. The villages were burned. Information of the

hidden magazines of the inhabitants was sold by their countrymen, and

the stores destined for the winter were carried away or destroyed. At

many points the peasantry had sought refuge in caves. It was a favorite

diversion of the Spaniards to stifle these wretches with smoke, like so

many wild animals in their burrows. The survivors were hunted like game

through the mountains. On a single occasion, Don John received a most

acceptable gift of four hundred heads and eleven hundred captives. It

was a remarkable circumstance when any considerable body of insurgents

were taken, for indiscriminate massacre was the rule of every campaign.

It was considered a peculiarly pious and meritorious action to ransom

prisoners and present them to the Inquisition. The fate for which these

unfortunate victims were reserved made the most shocking enormities of

open warfare seem trivial in comparison.

The relations of Al-Habaqui with the Christians were now generally

known; his influence was constantly solicited by his countrymen; and

his power became so great that even Ibn-Abu himself was compelled to

pay court to his minister, and countenance proceedings of which he

heartily disapproved to avoid incurring the hostility of a favorite

in whom was practically vested the supreme authority. The latter

considered that the time had at last arrived for the conclusion of

his treasonable negotiations. With the countenance of Ibn-Abu, and

accompanied by seventeen Moriscoes of rank, he met the commissioners

of Don John at Andarax. Nothing came of the conference, but the secret

understanding between the minister and the Spaniards was carried out

as pre-arranged. An adroit substitution of a document embodying the

concessions of the Spaniards for the one containing the demands of

the Moriscoes completed the deception of the latter; the arrogance

of the Castilians caused a withdrawal of the envoys; and Al-Habaqui,

with a single companion, appeared before Don John and, in the name of

Ibn-Abu, gave up his own scimetar and answered for the surrender of

the insurgents. This farce had but little effect, and was speedily

repudiated by the Morisco king. Then Al-Habaqui received eight hundred

gold ducats from the Spanish general, with which to raise a company

whose especial mission it was to bring in Ibn-Abu, dead or alive. The

prominence of Al-Habaqui had turned his head. His imprudent boasts

betrayed him; he was seized by the Turks, imprisoned, and strangled.

The treaty he had negotiated at the sacrifice of every principle of

honor and patriotism died with him. Ibn-Abu used every expedient

to keep the execution of his treacherous minister from obtaining

publicity. Still resolved on resistance, he hoped by temporizing with

the enemy to procure better terms. His resources were by no means

exhausted. Five thousand well-equipped veterans were under his command.

He entertained hopes of assistance from Africa--that ignis fatuus

of every Moslem revolution, which promised so much and always ended

in nothing. In the mean time all was uncertainty in the Christian

camp. Although a formal capitulation by an authorized functionary had

been formally signed, no insurgents surrendered. The whereabouts of

Al-Habaqui were unknown, and, while his death was unsuspected, his

absence could not be explained. Under a safe-conduct an envoy was

despatched to the Morisco king; he soon ascertained the truth and

carried back a message of defiance. Preparations were at once made

for a renewal of hostilities; the Spanish army, in three divisions,

advanced upon the Alpujarras from as many different directions, and

every effort was exerted to close the war by a vigorously prosecuted

campaign. The situation of Ibn-Abu now became critical. The country

in which he was compelled to operate had been stripped of everything

that could sustain life. Much of it that a few years previously

exhibited a high degree of cultivation had been transformed into a

primeval solitude, where only the charred remnants of once flourishing

settlements attested the former presence of man. His army was

discouraged by the unrelenting pursuit of the enemy. As usual, the

faithfully promised support from Africa proved a delusion.

The Moorish prince sent his brother, Mohammed-al-Galipa, an experienced

captain, to direct the insurrection in the Serrania de Ronda. Betrayed

by a Christian guide, who led him within the Spanish lines, he was

killed, and his escort of two hundred picked soldiers destroyed. In

Valencia, a conspiracy formed in collusion with the Moriscoes of

the Alpujarras was detected before it had time to mature, and its

instigators were punished with merciless cruelty. Encompassed by a

numerous and powerful foe, Ibn-Abu recognized the impossibility of

resistance and disbanded his army. A few of his adherents took refuge

among their kindred in Barbary. The majority, however, unable to

escape and disdaining submission, which implied a slavery worse than

death or inquisitorial torture, remained with their sovereign. All were

scattered through the mountains and found shelter in the caves of that

region, which were known only to shepherds and to those whose haunts

were in the wildest and most rugged parts of the sierra. The march

of the Spaniards was accomplished amidst the silence of desolation.

In the distance at times could be seen flying parties of scouts, but

no resistance was encountered. Whatever had escaped the destructive

progress of former expeditions was now annihilated. Soldiers wandering

in quest of plunder occasionally stumbled upon an inhabited cavern;

its inmates were driven out by fire, and the infliction of torture

soon disclosed the location of others. In one of these the wife and

daughters of Ibn-Abu were suffocated, while he, with two companions,

escaped through a secret opening in the mountain. The insatiable thirst

of blood and booty which urged on the invaders rendered protracted

concealment impossible. With each new discovery, other places of

refuge were successively revealed through the unsparing and diabolical

torments devised by the Castilians. The women were spared and condemned

to slavery. Male captives under twenty, as a rule, shared a similar

fate; all over that age were put to death, some amidst prolonged and

frightful sufferings. Rank, innocence, the helplessness of age, the

touching infirmity of disease, important services previously rendered

to the royal cause, the prospect of future loyalty which might result

from clemency judiciously bestowed, considerations of public welfare,

dependent upon the preservation of an industrious people, afforded no

exemption from the inexorable decree of destruction, enforced with

every circumstance of savage malignity. The tracking of fugitive

Moriscoes was as exciting and far more profitable than the chase

of wild beasts. It was no unusual occurrence for a party of these

terrified wretches to be pursued for a distance of fifty miles. No

obstacles were sufficient to deter the Spaniards in the tireless search

for their prey; the more arduous the hardships undergone, the greater

the enjoyment when the victims, vainly suppliant for mercy, were put to

the sword or burned at the stake. This time no organized enemy was left

in the Alpujarras to disturb in future the peace of the monarchy. More

than ten thousand insurgents were murdered or enslaved in the space of

a month. Wherever the soldiery could penetrate, every vestige of human

life and artificial vegetation were alike swept away. The terraced

slopes of the mountains, reclaimed by infinite toil to profitable

culture, the once smiling and fertile valleys, were restored to their

native wildness. No voice remained in that infinite solitude to dispute

the dogmas of the Church or to offend the scruples of the orthodox by

the celebration of the profane and detested rites of Islam.

In the Serrania de Ronda the rebels still continued active, but the

ambition of rival chieftains aiming at supreme power frustrated each

other’s plans and eventually caused the discomfiture of all. The

reputation for valor which the mountaineers of Ronda had attained was

national; military operations in that locality were not prosecuted with

the same energy as elsewhere, but the irreconcilable spirit of faction,

ever so fatal to the progress and stability of the Arab race, again

interposed as a potent factor of disorganization. A sharp campaign

directed by the Duke of Arcos scattered the forces of the rebels,

and the Serrania de Ronda, while not actually conquered, no longer

contained a force capable of even temporary resistance.

The war now substantially ended, it was announced by royal

proclamation that every Morisco, without a single exception, should be

forever expelled from the kingdom of Granada. The order was carried out

to the letter, under the supervision of Don John of Austria. The number

of the exiles was from fifty to a hundred thousand. Superior discipline

and the personal attention of the prince prevented the horrors that

had attended the banishment of the residents of the Albaycin. Some

were sent to Seville and Murcia, others to Estremadura, La Mancha, and

Navarre. The Castilian peasantry resented their appearance among good

Christians and resisted the soldiers, whose presence alone prevented a

massacre. As usual, the lands which the Moriscoes possessed were seized

for the benefit of the crown; their personal property was sacrificed

for much less than its value, and many hitherto accustomed to luxury,

plundered of the little they had saved from Spanish rapacity, reached

their new homes in a state of absolute destitution. The remote

fastnesses of the Alpujarras still concealed a number of fugitives,

who cherished the fallacious hope that amidst the rejoicings incident

to victory they might remain unnoticed and forgotten. Among them was

Ibn-Abu, whose followers, the infamous monfis, alike inaccessible to

honor or pity, were ready for every act of treachery, and some of

whom had already discussed the expediency of obtaining pardon by the

sacrifice of the King. These homeless wanderers soon realized that

they were still the objects of Spanish animosity. The establishment

of regular garrisons and the disbanding of the rest of the army were

coincident with the formation of bands of scouts, whose duty it was

to scour the country and capture every Morisco that could be found.

In order to stimulate their activity, a reward of twenty ducats was

offered for each insurgent. The chase of Moriscoes now became a more

lucrative diversion than ever. The wildest portion of the sierra

was examined foot by foot. Large numbers of fugitives were taken,

and the prisons soon became too small to contain the multitudes that

crowded them to suffocation. The utmost diligence of the authorities

was unequal to the task of providing quarters for the new-comers,

even by the wholesale execution of the old. The most distinguished

prisoners were hung. Others were tortured. Many were handed over to the

Inquisition, which, while never unsupplied with victims, was glad of

the opportunity to make a signal example of such troublesome heretics.

The majority were condemned to the galleys, which, all things being

taken into account, was perhaps the most severe punishment that a

prisoner could undergo. To be considered a mere machine, almost without

identity and destitute of feeling, chained for days to the oar, exposed

alike to the burning sun and the tempest, subject to hourly laceration

by the scourge of a brutal overseer; ill-fed and unprotected from the

weapons of an enemy, no fate to which unfortunate humanity is liable

would not seem preferable to the lot of the galley-slave. Finally,

the available facilities of Granada proved totally inadequate for the

disposition of captive Moriscoes; extraordinary powers were conferred

upon the commanders of the fortresses and outposts; the scenes of

carnage were transferred from the capital to every accessible point

of the Alpujarras, and the objects of national hatred and intolerance

daily paid by hundreds the extreme penalty of misfortune and defeat.

The capture or death of Ibn-Abu now alone was necessary for the

full gratification of Christian vengeance. With trifling difficulty

Gonzalo-al-Seniz, who enjoyed his confidence and had shared his tent,

was persuaded to betray him. The rewards of treachery were definitely

stipulated in advance, the principal inducements being a pension of a

hundred thousand maravedis and a promise of amnesty. An attempt to

take the unfortunate prince alive failed of success; he was killed in

the struggle; of his faithful companions, some were cut to pieces, some

implored the doubtful clemency of the Christians, and others, after

many perilous adventures, succeeded in escaping to Africa. The body of

the Morisco king, strapped like a bale of goods upon a beast of burden,

was transported to Granada and deposited at the door of the municipal

palace. Then preparations were made for a ceremony unparalleled in the

history of civilized nations, and whose character shows to what a depth

the base descendants of Castilian chivalry had fallen. Proclamation

was issued for the celebration of a travesty of regal authority and

the offer of a public insult to the dead. At the appointed time a vast

multitude of people, attracted by the novelty of the spectacle from

every corner of the city and for a distance of many leagues around,

crowded the streets and squares of the picturesque old Moorish capital.

The line of march led from the Plaza de la Bab-al-Rambla to the foot

of the Alhambra hill, a route which in the glorious days of the emirs

had been the scene of many a martial triumph. The procession was headed

by the corpse of Ibn-Abu, held erect by a concealed wooden framework,

which was fastened upon the back of a mule. To insure its preservation,

the body had been opened, the viscera extracted, and the cavity filled

with salt; it was dressed in the scarlet and gold habiliments of

royalty; upon its head was the turban of the khalifs; the face was

uncovered, and the pallid, ghastly features seemed, in their fixed and

mournful expression, to gaze reproachfully upon the jeering throng. By

the side of the mule walked the traitor Gonzalo-al-Seniz, bearing the

splendid arms of the king he had betrayed, a cross-bow and a scimetar

embossed and damascened with gold. In the rear marched a company of

Moriscoes, exempted from the general proscription for participation

in this ceremony, laden with the personal effects and the baggage of

the Moslem prince. A numerous escort of arquebusiers enclosed the

cortége, which was received with becoming pomp by the captain-general

and all the military and civil functionaries of the kingdom. As

Gonzalo-al-Seniz delivered to the Duke of Arcos the glittering weapons

which he carried, he remarked in the figurative language of the Orient,

“The shepherd could not bring the sheep alive, but he has brought the

fleece.” In the presence of the assembled dignitaries of the realm the

head of Ibn-Abu was cut off, and afterwards, placed in an iron cage,

was fixed upon the battlements of the gate of Bab-al-Racha, which faced

the Alpujarras. The trunk was abandoned to a mob of children, who

amused themselves by hacking and disfiguring it until, wearied of this

extraordinary pastime, they consumed it in a bonfire.

Such was the unworthy fate of the last of the imperial line of the

Ommeyades. Eight hundred years before, Abd-al-Rahman, hunted like a

wild animal through the Libyan Desert, had been summoned from a life of

obscurity and danger to found a great and powerful empire. Although it

rapidly reached its meridian, that empire required many centuries for

its final overthrow. The proud dynasty of the Western Khalifate ended

as it had begun, in proscription, in exile, in treachery, in violence.

The causes which hastened its maturity also contributed largely to its

decay. The aspirations of its sovereigns were, on the main, noble and

generous. Their services to humanity were of incalculable value and

of far-reaching effect. The fire and sword of tyranny and persecution

could not efface the lasting impression made by the ideas they

promulgated, the science they developed, the literature they created.

These survived the tortures of the Inquisition, the anathemas of the

Pope, the turmoil of revolution, the funeral pyres of Ximenes. It is a

remarkable fact that while the Hispano-Arabs brought within the sphere

of their influence and culture the most remote nations, their nearest

neighbors were incapable of appreciating their attainments or profiting

by their knowledge. The inveterate prejudice against every phase of

Moorish life and manners entertained by the Spanish Christians was

fatal to their intellectual development. They regarded the intruders

as barbarians, as, indeed, the majority of their descendants do even

to this day. They were brought in intimate contact with no other form

of civilization, and, rather than adopt what their ignorance and

fanaticism prompted them to detest and despise, they chose to rely on

their own limited resources. In consequence, their mental and social

condition, so far from improving, gradually retrograded. The Goths of

the age of Roderick were more polished, more intelligent, actuated

by better motives, capable of higher aspirations, susceptible to

nobler impulses than the Spaniards governed by Charles and Philip.

In their progress from the banks of the Vistula to the shores of the

Mediterranean, they had encountered many nations long subject to the

civilizing influence of Rome. Not a few of them had visited the Eternal

City itself. Some had served in the armies of the decaying empire;

all had been impressed by the grand and imposing monuments of its

magnificence and power. In the court of the last of the Gothic kings

were men not unfamiliar with the masterpieces of classic literature.

Its publicists had framed a code of laws which is the foundation of

every modern system of jurisprudence. In the mechanical arts Gothic

skill and industry had made no inconsiderable progress. While feudalism

had retarded the development of society, its privileges, contrary to

the practice of subsequent times, had not as yet seriously encroached

upon the dignity and prerogatives of the throne. The institution of

councils under ecclesiastical influence was not entirely subservient to

the interests of superstition, and often exercised a wholesome check

upon the arbitrary designs of a tyrannical sovereign.

With the Spaniards of the sixteenth century, everything was

subordinated to a single principle, the exaltation of the Church.

Its servants were the chosen confidants of the monarch; its policy

guided his movements, controlled his actions, furnished his ideas,

inflamed his prejudices. Whatever was worthy of the name of learning

the clergy monopolized and perverted. They diligently fostered the

ignorance of the masses, until in all the continent of Europe there is

not at the present time a more benighted class than the peasantry of

the Spanish Peninsula. The treasures of the world were lavished with

unparalleled prodigality upon religious institutions and edifices.

A tithe of the wealth squandered upon these vast foundations, whose

history is tainted with scandal, would have sufficed, under intelligent

direction, to have transformed the entire country into a garden and

to have rendered Spain one of the richest of nations. Ecclesiasticism

promoted crime and idleness by making beggary respectable, and by

countenancing the indiscriminate bestowal of alms as a cardinal

virtue. The expulsion of the Jews and the Moriscoes were acts

entirely consistent with the general scheme of its polity. They were

indispensable for the realization of religious unity, to which every

consideration of national welfare, public faith, and individual probity

were unhesitatingly sacrificed. The atrocities which accompanied these

violent and disastrous measures were regarded as peculiarly meritorious

and most acceptable to an avenging God. Upon such insecure foundations

was the splendid but unsubstantial fabric of Spanish greatness

erected. A sad inheritance has descended to the progeny of those stern

warriors who founded an empire on the wreck of civilization, the

repudiation of treaties, and the obliteration of entire races from the

face of the earth.

The war which had effected the conquest and enslavement of the

Moriscoes lasted a little more than three years. No period of the

same duration in the history of the Peninsula was fraught with more

important consequences. The Spaniards lost by the casualties of battle,

exposure, and disease sixty thousand men. The losses of the Moors were

much greater; twenty thousand were killed with arms in their hands,

but no account has survived of those who were massacred in cold blood.

The expense involved in the destruction of the most useful element of

the population appalled the corrupt and incompetent financiers of the

kingdom. Extraordinary and unwise fiscal methods, devised to remedy

the evil, only rendered it more aggravated and desperate. Repeated

campaigns of desolation had turned the whole country into a waste. Not

only was the material wealth annihilated, but the means of recuperation

were forever removed. Under the iron hand of remorseless persecution,

industry had vanished. In vain the government offered alluring

inducements to immigrants and colonists,--fertile lands, moderate

rents, nominal taxation. Few accepted these offers and still fewer

remained. The provinces of the South continued a prey to the brigands

of the mountains and the corsairs of Barbary. Life and property were

notoriously insecure. Castilian pride and indolence were unequal to

the patient drudgery which had made hill-side and valley blossom with

teeming vegetation; and men whose chosen trade for ages had been

war were wholly destitute of the agricultural experience and skill

necessary to reproduce these marvellous effects. The royal demesnes,

in 1592, yielded annually a sum equal to fifteen thousand dollars;

during the closing years of Moslem rule, when the kingdom had been

exhausted by incessant war and rebellion, the revenues from this source

produced by territory of equal area and fertility had been more than

ten times as great. Plundered, tortured, expatriated, the Moriscoes

were still subjected to innumerable vexations; the curse of their race

was ever upon them. But they were at last comparatively exempt from the

odious imputation of heresy. After 1595 the most rigid inquisitorial

vigilance was unable or unwilling to detect any heterodox opinions

or breaches of ecclesiastical discipline among these unpromising

proselytes. And yet it was notorious that they were ignorant of the

doctrines of the Church, and that competent persons were not appointed

to instruct them. Some zealots, indeed, maintained that they should

not be permitted to communicate, and that the exposure of the Host in

their churches was a desecration; others, on the other hand, refused

absolution to such as would not acknowledge apostasy. Their confessions

were often regarded as feigned, and the priests who received them did

not hesitate to violate the obligations of their order by divulging

privileged confidences to the magistrate. The Morisco could not change

his residence without permission; he was not allowed the possession of

arms; the approach within forty miles of the kingdom of Granada was

punishable with death. Notwithstanding these severe regulations, many

succeeded in evading the vigilance of the authorities. Some took refuge

in Valencia, where the feudal lords still protected their brethren;

others concealed themselves in the Alpujarras; many escaped to Africa.

In their new homes they were generally treated with far more indulgence

than in the old. Prelates and nobles who profited by their industry

not infrequently interposed their influence to prevent persecution,

interested officials connived at breaches of the law, and it was a

common occurrence for the alguazil appointed to prevent the observance

of the feast of Ramadhan to pass his time carousing with those whom it

was his office to restrain. The condition of the Moriscoes was also

rendered less intolerable by the secret employment of both civil and

ecclesiastical dignitaries of high rank and extensive influence, at

a regular salary, to guard their rights and frustrate the iniquitous

designs of their enemies.

The once flourishing land of Granada was a desert, but the demands of

orthodox Christianity at last were satisfied. The devout regarded with

unconcealed complacency the fertile territory formerly rich in every

variety of agricultural products, and now abandoned to sterility,

but which was defiled no longer by the contaminating presence of

the heretic and the infidel. But, while the Faith was vindicated by

the expulsion of these objects of pious detestation, the secret of

prosperity had departed with them. The imported colonists were unable,

under new and unfamiliar conditions and heedless of the frugality and

patience which insure success, to render their undertakings profitable;

indeed, most of them could hardly exist. Their taxes had, in violation

of contract and on account of the pressing exigencies of the state,

been gradually increased; the demands of importunate creditors and

tyrannical officials made them desperate; and these exactions, which

exhausted the scanty returns of an ill-conducted cultivation, kept

the unfortunate immigrants in a state of hopeless penury. They either

abandoned their farms or were forcibly ejected, and in 1597 the royal

estates were sold because it was found impossible to operate them at a

profit.

While in Granada such discouraging conditions prevailed, those portions

of the kingdom which had unwillingly received the banished Moriscoes

experienced the beneficial results of their labors. The hitherto

barren regions of La Mancha and Estremadura began to exhibit signs

of unexampled fertility. The new settlers were peaceable, frugal,

industrious. In Castile they were generally farmers; in Aragon,

merchants; in Valencia, manufacturers. Not a few attained great

distinction in the practice of medicine and surgery; and, like the Jews

of former ages, they were frequently employed by the court and the

family of the sovereign. The life of Philip III. when a child was saved

by the skill of a Moorish physician, a service which was ill-requited

by the deeds of his manhood. The exiles practically contributed

the funds which supported the monarchy. The insatiable rapacity of

adventurers had soon exhausted the available wealth of a magnificent

colonial empire. Official corruption constantly drained the ordinary

sources of revenue. In all financial difficulties taxation of the

Moriscoes afforded an unfailing and profitable means of replenishing

the treasury. Their burdens were first doubled, then quadrupled. Every

species of imposition was practised upon them. Their debtors paid them

in spurious coin, struck for their benefit. False jewels were pledged

with them for loans. The chicanery of the law was employed to defraud

them with impunity, while the most severe penalties were inflicted upon

them for trifling breaches of trust. They were systematically swindled

by cheats and usurers. In all possible ways they were made to feel

the unmerited degradation of their caste and the utter hopelessness

of relief. Yet under this weight of malevolence and injustice they

prospered and preserved at least the appearance of equanimity. Nothing

could, with truth, be alleged against their morals. They were nominally

good Christians. They attended mass. They conformed to the customs of

their rulers, wore their dress, participated in their festivals, spoke

Castilian. Their regular and temperate lives and their buoyant spirits

under misfortune promoted extraordinary longevity. It was by no means

unusual to encounter individuals whose age had passed the limit of a

century. Early marriages and polygamous unions caused the population

to increase with amazing rapidity. The census taken regularly by the

Moriscoes to ascertain the proportion of taxes to be levied upon them

and to insure its equitable distribution demonstrated conclusively

that this growth was in a progressive ratio that was phenomenal in its

character. The enumeration made at Valencia in 1602 showed an increase

of ten thousand in three years. Modern investigation has established

the fact that a population existing under the most favorable economic

conditions will double itself every twenty-five years. The Moriscoes

were far exceeding that estimate, for their rate of increase was

triple. This wonderful augmentation must have been coincident with

the highest degree of prosperity, otherwise subsistence could not

have been provided for the multitudes of children. This condition was

not peculiar to Valencia: it was the same in Aragon, in Castile, in

Estremadura, in Andalusia. The Moors who had failed to conquer their

enemies by arms now threatened to overwhelm them by sheer force of

numbers. The Spaniards, not being sufficiently civilized to take their

census regularly or accurately, were ignorant of the numerical strength

of their own population, as compared with that of their Moorish

subjects; but it was evident that there was a tremendous preponderance

in favor of the latter.

The officials became so alarmed that just before the death of Philip

II. he was requested to prohibit any further enumeration of the

Moriscoes, because it acquainted them with their power and must

eventually prove prejudicial to the interests of the monarchy. Besides

their menacing increase, which no supervision, however effective,

could prevent, they possessed qualities that made them highly obnoxious

to their masters. Their frugality and thrift, their shrewdness and

enterprise, rendered competition with them impossible. There was no

profitable occupation in which they did not excel. In agriculture

they had no rivals. They monopolized every industrial employment; all

of the most useful trades were under their control. They undersold

the Castilian peasantry in their own markets. Even the most opulent,

instructed by previous experience, sedulously avoided every exhibition

of luxury; but the Moorish artisan had not lost the taste and dexterity

of his ancestors, and the splendid products of the loom and the armory

still commanded high prices in the metropolitan cities of Europe.

It was known that the Moriscoes were wealthy, and popular opinion,

as is invariably the case, delighted in exaggerating the value of

their possessions. While they sold much, they consumed comparatively

little and purchased even less. Although the offence of heresy could

no longer be consistently imputed to them, specious considerations of

public policy, as well as deference to ineradicable national prejudice,

demanded their suppression. Their prosperity, secured at the expense of

their neighbors, and a standing reproach to the idleness and incapacity

of the latter, was the measure of Spanish decay. In the existing state

of the public mind, and under the direction of the statesmen who

controlled the actions of the King, a pretext could readily be found

for the perpetration of any injustice. The Moriscoes of Valencia, the

most numerous, wealthy, and influential body of their race, protected

by the nobles, had always shown less alacrity in the observance of

the duties of the Church than their brethren, and had thus rendered

themselves liable to the suspicion of apostasy. It was declared that

after a generation of espionage, prayer, and religious instruction

they were still secret Mussulmans. This opinion, perhaps in some

instances not without foundation, amounted to absolute certainty in the

narrow mind of Don Juan de Ribera, Archbishop of Valencia, a prelate

of vindictive temper, arbitrary disposition, limited abilities, and

violent prejudices. He owed much of his reputation for piety to the

fact that he had denounced to the Inquisition more than four thousand

alleged Moorish apostates. Knowing his feelings towards them, the

Moriscoes generally turned a deaf ear to his admonitions and threats,

and thus further incurred his displeasure. The energy of Ribera was

incessantly exerted for the ruin of these supposed heretics, either by

exile or by extermination. With this end in view he addressed several

memorials to Philip III., who had now ascended the throne, in which

the objects of his wrath were accused of every crime against the civil

and the moral law,--treason, murder, kidnapping, blasphemy, sacrilege.

In these appeals the Moriscoes were called “the sponge that absorbed

the riches of Spain.” He enforced his arguments by the extraordinary

statement that the destruction of the Armada was a divine judgment

for the indulgence exhibited towards these enemies of the Faith, and

that Philip II. was aware of it, for he himself had informed him of

that fact. The recent occurrence of earthquakes, tempests, and comets

was also sagely attributed to the same cause. The Moriscoes were not

ignorant of the designs which the Archbishop was prosecuting to their

injury, and endeavored to obtain the assistance of France and England,

both of which countries were then hostile to Spain. They offered King

Henry IV. the services of a hundred thousand well-armed soldiers if he

would invade the Peninsula. The Duke of Sully says they even signalized

their willingness to embrace Protestantism in consideration of support,

it being a form of worship not tainted with idolatry, like that of

Rome. Negotiations were privately opened with the courts of Paris and

London, and commissions were even appointed by the latter to verify the

claims of the Moriscoes; but no conclusion was arrived at, and the plot

was eventually betrayed by the very sovereigns whose honor was pledged

to the maintenance of secrecy. An embassy was also sent to the Sultan

of Turkey by the Moors, soliciting his aid and tendering him their

allegiance. No plan which promised relief was neglected. The furious

Ribera again urged upon the King the dangers that the toleration

of such a numerous and perfidious people implied; he alleged their

prosperity and their superior intelligence as crimes against the state;

and as absolute extermination did not seem to be feasible, he suggested

expulsion as of greater inconvenience, but of equal efficacy. Once more

the nobles interposed in behalf of their vassals, and while the King

was hesitating the Moriscoes endeavored to anticipate his decision by

the formation of an extensive conspiracy. Again they were betrayed,

this time by one of their own number. Public opinion, aroused by these

occurrences, and further inflamed by ecclesiastical malice and by the

pernicious influence of the Duke of Lerma, the all-powerful minister of

Philip III., now imperatively demanded their banishment. This nobleman,

of base antecedents and unprincipled character, and whose dominating

passion was avarice, was Viceroy of Valencia. His brother was the Grand

Inquisitor Their influence easily overweighed the remonstrances of the

Pope, whose voice was raised on the side of mercy.

On the fourth of August, 1609, the royal decree which announced

the fate of the Moriscoes of Valencia was signed at Segovia. No

precaution which prudence could suggest was neglected to prevent

disaster consequent upon its enforcement. Great bodies of troops

were placed under arms. The frontiers of the kingdom were patrolled

by cavalry. Seventy-seven ships of war, the largest in the navy, were

assembled on the coast. In every town the garrison was doubled. Several

thousand veterans disembarked from the fleet and were distributed at

those points where the Morisco population was most numerous. Such

preparations left no alternative but submission, and the Valencians,

anticipating the final movement which would deliver the unhappy Moors

into their hands, began to rob and persecute them without pity.

Even after all had been arranged for the removal, the nobles urged

Philip to revoke an order which must cause incalculable injury to his

kingdom. The most solemn and binding guarantees were offered for the

public safety and for the peaceable behavior of the Moriscoes. It was

demonstrated that the manufacturing and agricultural interests of the

entire monarchy were involved; that a population of a million souls,

whose industry represented of itself a source of wealth which could not

be replaced, would be practically exterminated; that the educational

and religious foundations of the realm alone received from Moorish

tributaries an annual sum exceeding a million doubloons of gold. It was

also shown that the vassals of the Valencian nobles paid them each year

four million ducats, nearly thirty-two million dollars. The alleged

conspiracies were imputed to the malice of the monks, who invented

them in the cloister; the heresies to ignorance of the clergy, too

idle or too negligent to afford their parishioners instruction. The

evil results of the iniquitous decree had already begun to manifest

themselves. The cultivation of the soil had almost ceased. The markets

were deserted. Commerce languished, and the Moriscoes, to avoid the

insults of the populace to which they were now subjected, only appeared

in the streets when impelled to do so by absolute necessity. The

Archiepiscopal See of Valencia, which derived its revenues almost

entirely from Morisco taxation, was threatened with bankruptcy, and Don

Juan de Ribera, realizing when too late the disastrous consequences of

the project he had so sedulously advocated, now in vain endeavored to

stem the tide of public bigotry and official madness. While bewailing

his unhappy condition to his clerical subordinates, he was heard to

plaintively remark, “My brethren, hereafter we shall be compelled to

live upon herbs and to mend our own shoes.”

Philip refused to reconsider his determination, and the nobility

manifested their loyalty by the unflinching support of a measure

running directly counter to their interests. On the twenty-second of

September, 1609, the edict of expulsion was proclaimed by heralds

throughout the kingdom of Valencia. It represented that by a special

act of royal clemency “the heretics, apostates, traitors, criminals

guilty of _lése-majesté_ human and divine,” were punished with

exile rather than with death, to which the strict construction of

the laws condemned them. It permitted the removal of such effects as

could be carried, and as much of their harvests as was necessary for

subsistence during their journey; all else was to be forfeited to

their suzerains. They were forbidden to sell their lands or houses.

Three days of preparation were granted; after that they were declared

the legitimate prey of every assailant. Dire penalties were denounced

against all who should conceal them or in any way assist in the evasion

of the edict. Those who had intermarried with Christians could remain,

if they desired; and six per cent. of the families were to be reserved

by the lords, that the horticultural and mechanical dexterity which

had enriched the country might not be absolutely extinguished. These

subjects of interested clemency refused to accept this invidious

concession, however, and hastened to join their countrymen beyond the

sea.

The wretched Moriscoes received the tidings of their expatriation with

almost the despair with which they would have listened to a sentence

of death. Astonishment, arising from the suddenness of the notice and

the inadequate time allotted them for preparation, was mingled with

their dismay. The traditions of centuries, the souvenirs of national

glory, the memory of their ancestors, contributed to endear them to

their native land. There were centred the most cherished associations

of a numerous and cultivated race. All around were the visible signs

of thrift and opulence and their results, won by laborious exertion

from the soil. The disfigured but still magnificent monuments of fallen

dynasties recalled the departed glory of Arab genius and Moslem power.

The loss of their wealth, the sacrifice of their possessions, portended

the endurance of calamities for which they were ill-prepared, and of

whose dreadful character their most gloomy apprehensions could convey

no adequate conception. In every Moorish community appeared the signs

of unutterable misery and woe. The shrieks of frenzied women pierced

the air. Old men sobbed upon the hearthstones where had been passed the

happy days of infancy and youth. Overcome with grief, life-long friends

met in the streets without notice or salutation. Even little children,

unable to comprehend, yet awed by the prevailing sorrow, ceased their

play to mingle their tears with those of their parents.

As the disconsolate and sobbing multitude, urged on by the ferocious

soldiery taught by their religion to regard these victims of

national prejudice as the enemies of Christ, left their homes behind

forever, their trials and sufferings increased with their progress.

The government provided them with neither food, shelter, nor

transportation. The difficulties of the march were aggravated by

clouds of dust and by the pitiless heat of summer. Many were born on

the highway. Great numbers fell from exhaustion. Some, in desperation,

committed suicide. Every straggler was butchered by the armed rabble

which, equally ravenous for plunder or blood, constantly hung on

the flanks of the slowly moving column. Many were assassinated by

Old Christians, men of Moorish ancestry, the conversion of whose

forefathers dated before the Conquest, and who told their beads and

muttered prayers after each murder, as if they had committed an action

acceptable to God. The armed brigands who composed the escort vied

with the mob in their atrocities. The men were openly killed, the

women violated. Their property was appropriated by force. Some died

of hunger. Parents, in their extremity, became so oblivious of the

instincts of nature as to barter their children for a morsel of bread.

When they embarked for Africa they fared even worse than they had done

on land. On the sea the opportunities for outrage were multiplied,

the means of escape and detection diminished. No pen can portray the

horrors visited upon the unhappy Moriscoes, helpless in the midst of

savage enemies who were insensible to pity, hardened by cruelty, and

dominated by the furious lust of beauty and gold.

The decree was not received everywhere with the same submission as

at the city of Valencia. There the exiles, overawed by the large

military force, yielded without disturbance. Half-crazed by misfortune,

they even feigned exultation, marched on board the ships dressed in

holiday costume and headed by bands of music, and in token of delight

gave themselves up to the most extravagant exhibitions of joy. Some

kissed the shore, others plunged into the sea, others again quaffed

the briny water as if it were a delicious beverage. Before embarking

they sold much of their property, and articles of great elegance and

beauty--curiously wrought vessels of gold and enamel, silken veils

embroidered with silver, magnificent garments--were disposed of for

a small fraction of their value. During these transactions, and in

settlement of their passage to Africa, the Moriscoes succeeded in

placing in circulation an immense amount of counterfeit money which

they had obtained in Catalonia, thus literally paying the Spaniards in

their own coin. The portable wealth of which the kingdom was deprived

by their banishment cannot be estimated. It amounted, however, to many

millions of ducats. Some of the exiles were known to possess a hundred

thousand pieces of gold, an enormous fortune in those times. It was

ascertained after their departure that their lords, in defiance of

law, had purchased many of their estates, and had connived at the sale

or concealment of a great amount of their personal property. Those

who succeeded in reaching the cities were received with courteous

hospitality, but the desert tribes showed scant mercy to the multitudes

that fell into their hands.

Elsewhere in the kingdom the Moriscoes stubbornly resisted the decree

of expatriation. The Sierra de Bernia and the Vale of Alahuar were the

scene of the most serious disturbances, and at one time twenty thousand

insurgents were in the field. Armed for the most part with clubs, their

valor was ineffectual in the presence of veteran troops. The women

alone were spared; the men were butchered; the brains of children were

beaten out against the walls. The garrison of the castle of Pop, which

for a few weeks defied the Spanish army, alone obtained advantageous

terms. Of the one hundred and fifty thousand Moors exiled from

Valencia, at least two-thirds perished. A large number had previously

succumbed to persecution or had escaped, and including these the

total number of victims of the inauguration of the insane policy of

Philip III. was at least two hundred thousand. The continuance of

that policy until its aim had been fully accomplished had already

been determined on by the councillors of the King. The secrecy which

concealed their design did not impose upon those who were the objects

of it. They began by tens of thousands to emigrate quietly to Africa.

Then the decree, which had been signed a month before, was published,

with an attempt to give the impression that it had been provoked by a

circumstance of which it was really the cause, namely, the agitation

of the Moriscoes. The latter were peremptorily commanded to leave

the kingdom within eight days. They were forbidden to take with them

money, gold, jewels, bills of exchange, or merchandise. They were not

permitted to dispose of their estates. In Catalonia their property

was confiscated, “in satisfaction of debts which they might have owed

to Christians,” and three days only were allowed them in which to

prepare for departure. Their little children were to be left behind to

the tender mercies of their oppressors, in order that their salvation

might be assured. Those of the northern provinces were prohibited

from moving southward; those of Andalusia were directed to emigrate

by sea. Within the allotted time all were in motion. The embarkation

of the exiles destined for Africa was effected without difficulty.

But their brethren of Castile and Aragon were refused admission into

France, by the direct order of Henry IV., to whose agency was largely

attributable their deplorable condition. His opportune death somewhat

relaxed official severity, and a great number entered Provence.

Although they were peaceable and inoffensive, the French were anxious

to be rid of their unwelcome guests. Free transportation was furnished

them by the city of Marseilles, and they were distributed through

Turkey, Italy, and Africa. So many died during the passage by sea

that their dead bodies encumbered the beach, and the peasants refused

for a long time to eat fish, declaring that it had the taste of human

flesh. The progress of the unfortunates driven northward was marked

by daily scenes of persecution and agony. The commissioners appointed

to supervise the emigration connived at the evasion of the decree for

their own profit. They extorted enormous sums for protection, which

their duty required them to afford without compensation, and which,

even after these impositions, was insolently denied. Those things which

the ordinary dictates of humanity delight to bestow were sold to the

hapless wanderers at fabulous prices. For the shade of the trees on the

highway the grasping and unprincipled peasant exacted a rental; and the

water dipped from the streams in the trembling hands of the sufferers

commanded a higher price than that usually paid for the wine of the

country. The little which the commissioners overlooked was seized by

rapacious French officials, and the condition of the Moriscoes was

still further aggravated by the absconding of those of their number to

whom the common purse had been intrusted.

In the merciless proscription thus imposed upon an entire people, an

insignificant number temporarily escaped. In the latter were included

young children torn from their parents to be educated by the Church,

and such persons “of good life and religion” as the clergy, through

interested or generous motives, chose to recommend to royal indulgence.

In 1611 the exemption enjoyed by these classes was removed; searching

inquiry was instituted throughout the kingdom, and every individual

of Moorish blood who could be discovered was inexorably condemned to

banishment or slavery. By the persecution of the Moriscoes and the

losses by war, assassination, voluntary emigration, and enforced exile,

Spain was deprived of the services of more than a million of the most

intelligent, laborious, and skilful subjects in Christendom. Those who

were finally excluded were probably not more than half of the entire

Moorish population. No statistics are accessible in our day from which

an estimate can be formed of the vast number that perished by famine,

by torture, by massacre. Their trials were not at an end even in

Africa; they were pursued for sectarian differences, and some who were

sincere Christians returned to Spain, where they were at once sentenced

to the galleys. The skill and thrift of the Moriscoes, qualities which

should have made them desirable, rendered them everywhere unpopular;

they monopolized the trade of the Barbary coast, even driving out the

Jews; in Algiers the populace rose against them, all were expelled, and

large numbers were remorselessly butchered. Hatred of their oppressors

induced many of hitherto peaceful occupations to embrace the trade of

piracy, and the southern coast of the Peninsula had reason to long

remember the exploits of the Morisco corsairs.

The ruthless barbarity, the blind and reckless folly of this measure,

was followed by an everlasting curse of barrenness, ignorance, and

penury. The sudden removal of enormous amounts of portable wealth

deranged every kind of trade. The circulation of counterfeit money

impaired public confidence. In Valencia four hundred and fifty villages

were abandoned. The absence of the most industrious and prosperous

class of its inhabitants was apparent in every community of Castile.

Catalonia lost three-quarters of its population. The districts

of Aragon rendered desolate by Moorish expulsion have never been

repeopled. Agricultural science and mechanical skill disappeared. The

hatred and disdain entertained by the Spaniards for the conquered race

had never permitted them to profit by the experience and ingenuity

of the latter. Intercourse with a Moor brought moral and social

contamination. Still less could the admission of inferiority, which

the adoption of his methods implied, be tolerated by the haughty, the

vainglorious, the impecunious hidalgo.

The effects of the discouragement of all forms of art and industry

consequent upon war and persecution had been felt long previous to the

expulsion of the Moriscoes in every part of the Peninsula. For many

years after the capture of Cordova by Ferdinand III., it was found

necessary to bring provisions from the North, not only for the support

of the army, but to rescue from famine the sparse and thriftless

population of a province which under the Ommeyade khalifs maintained

with ease the great capital, as well as twelve thousand villages and

hamlets.

The decline in the number of inhabitants under Spanish rule indicates

the utter stagnation of trade and agriculture. In 1492 the population

of Castile was six and three-quarter million; in 1700 there were in

the entire kingdom of Spain but six million souls--such had been the

significant retrogression in two hundred years.

The combined revenues of the Spanish Crown at the close of the

fifteenth century amounted to a sum equal to three hundred thousand

dollars, about one-thousandth of the annual receipts of the imperial

treasury at the death of Abd-al-Rahman III., seven hundred years before.

Fifty years after the banishment of the Moors, the combined population

of the cities of Cordova, Seville, Toledo, Granada, had decreased by

more than four-fifths; it is now about one-tenth of its amount during

the Moslem domination. In 1788 there were fifteen hundred and eleven

deserted towns in the Peninsula. Toledo, celebrated for its silken

fabrics, in the latter part of the fifteenth century had sixty thousand

looms; in 1651 it had five thousand; to-day it has none. The same

industry was pursued with great success at Seville; in the seventeenth

century the number of its looms had decreased from sixteen thousand

to sixteen. All other branches of manufactures declined in the same

proportion. Even a large part of the kingdom of Valencia, the garden

of Europe, was for years an uninhabited wilderness. With the Moslem

expulsion the knowledge of many arts, once the source of great profit,

was hopelessly lost.

To the pious Spaniard all these sacrifices were as nothing when

compared with the triumph of the Faith. The ports were unoccupied,

the quays grass-grown, but the armies of the Cross had conquered.

The manufactories had fallen into decay, the streets were silent,

the highways were deserted except by the timorous traveller and

the lurking robber, but not a Moslem or a Jewish heretic was to be

encountered in His Most Catholic Majesty’s dominions. At the close of

the seventeenth century, throughout the entire Peninsula, once the

centre of learning in Europe, the resort of scholars of every land,

the seat of the greatest educational institutions of the Middle Ages,

not a single academy existed where instruction could be obtained in

astronomy, natural philosophy, or any branch of mathematics. A hundred

years later no one could be found who understood even the rudiments

of chemistry. To-day, among the inhabitants of Spain, according to

the published tables of statistics, only one person in every four

can read. But what mattered the destruction of commerce, the decay

of production, the dearth of intelligence, if the land was purged of

false doctrines?, Was it not a source of national congratulation that

ecclesiastical authority was once more paramount; that half of the

able-bodied population, male and female, were devoted to monastic

life; that magnificent religious foundations, such as the world had

never before seen, arose on every side; that, though the royal treasury

was bankrupt, the annual revenues of the Church amounted to nearly

fifty-three million dollars? Surely these manifold divine blessings

were not to be weighed with the transitory benefits derived from the

labors of a mass of perverse and unregenerate heretics!

The results, both immediate and remote, of this crime against

civilization thus proved fatal to Spain. Its principal sources of

subsistence removed, the kingdom was desolated by famine. It became

necessary to extend public aid to many noble families, once affluent,

but now impoverished by the suicidal course of the crown. Popular

sentiment, exasperated by distress, denounced in unsparing terms the

authors of the national calamity. The Archbishop of Valencia, unable

to endure the daily reproaches to which he was subjected, and overcome

by the sufferings for which he was responsible, died of remorse.

Silence and gloom occupied vast tracts formerly covered by exuberant

vegetation. In the place of the farmer and the mechanic appeared the

brigand and the outlaw. Deprived of protection, the open country was

abandoned; the peasantry sought the security of fortified places,

and all occupations whose pursuit implied exposure to the danger of

violence were necessarily suspended. The conditions controlling every

rank of society which were established in the Peninsula by the blind

and savage prejudices of the seventeenth century are largely prevalent

to-day. A dreadful retribution has followed a tragedy whose example

happily no other nation has ventured to imitate; and which, from the

hour of its occurrence, has afflicted with every misfortune to the last

generation the people responsible for its hideous atrocities.