REBELLION OF THE MORISCOES.
Don John takes the Field--Investment of Galera--Fierce
Assaults--Preparations for a last Attack--Explosion of the
Mines--Desperation of the Moriscoes--Cruel Massacre--Galera demolished.
1570.
Don John lost no time in completing the arrangements for his expedition.
The troops, as they reached Granada, were for the most part sent forward
to join the army under Los Velez, on the east of the Alpujarras, where
that commander was occupied with the siege of Galera, though with but
little prospect of reducing the place. He was soon, however, to be
superseded by Don John.
Philip, unable to close his ears against the representations of his
brother, as well as those of more experienced captains in the service,
had at length reluctantly come to a conviction of the unfitness of Los
Velez for the command. Yet he had a partiality for the veteran; and he
was willing to spare him, as far as possible, the mortification of
seeing himself supplanted by his young rival. In his letters, the king
repeatedly enjoined it on his brother to treat the marquis with the
utmost deference, and to countenance no reports circulated to his
prejudice. In an epistle filled with instructions for the campaign,
dated the twenty-sixth of November, the king told Don John to be
directed on all occasions by the counsels of Quixada and Requesens. He
was to show the greatest respect for the marquis, and to give him to
understand that he should be governed by his opinions. "But, in point of
fact," said Philip, "should his opinion clash at any time with that of
the two other counsellors, you are to be governed by theirs."[211]
On Quixada and Requesens he was indeed always to rely, never setting up
his own judgment in opposition to theirs. He was to move with caution,
and, instead of the impatient spirit of a boy, to show the
circumspection of one possessed of military experience. "In this way,"
concluded his royal monitor, "you will not only secure the favour of
your sovereign, but establish your reputation with the world."[212] It
is evident that Philip had discerned traits in the character of Don John
which led him to distrust somewhat his capacity for the high station in
which he was placed. Perhaps it may be thought that the hesitating and
timid policy of Philip was less favourable to success in military
operations than the bold spirit of enterprise which belonged to his
brother. However this may be, Don John, notwithstanding his repeated
protestations to the contrary, was of too ardent a temperament to be
readily affected by these admonitions of his prudent adviser.
The military command in Granada was lodged by the prince in the hands of
the duke of Sesa, who, as soon as he had gathered a sufficient force,
was to march into the western district of the Alpujarras, and there
create a diversion in favour of Don John. A body of four thousand troops
was to remain in Granada; and the commander-in-chief, having thus
completed his dispositions for the protection of the capital, set forth
on his expedition on the twenty-ninth of December, at the head of a
force amounting only to three thousand foot and four hundred horse. With
these troops went a numerous body of volunteers, the flower of the
Andalusian chivalry, who had come to win renown under the banner of the
young leader.
He took the route through Guadix, and on the third day reached the
ancient city of Baza, memorable for the siege it had sustained under his
victorious ancestors, Ferdinand and Isabella. Here he was met by
Requesens, who, besides a reinforcement of troops, brought with him a
train of heavy ordnance and a large supply of ammunition. The guns were
sent forward, under a strong escort, to Galera; but, on leaving Baza,
Don John received the astounding tidings that the marquis of Los Velez
had already abandoned the siege, and drawn off his whole force to the
neighbouring town of Guescar.
[Sidenote: LOS VELEZ RESIGNS HIS COMMAND.]
In fact, the rumour had no sooner reached the ears of the testy old
chief, that Don John was speedily coming to take charge of the war, than
he swore in his wrath that if the report were true, he would abandon the
siege and throw up his command. Yet those who knew him best did not
think him capable of so mad an act. He kept his word, however; and when
he learned that Don John was on the way, he broke up his encampment and
withdrew, as above stated, to Guescar. By this course he left the
adjacent country open to the incursions of the Moriscoes of Galera;
while no care was taken to provide even for the safety of the convoys
which, from time to time, came laden with supplies for the besieging
army.
This extraordinary conduct gave no dissatisfaction to his troops, who,
long since disgusted with the fiery yet imbecile character of their
general, looked with pleasure to the prospect of joining the standard of
so popular a chieftain as John of Austria. Even the indignation felt by
the latter at the senseless proceeding of the marquis was forgotten in
the satisfaction he experienced, at being thus relieved from the
embarrassments which his rival's overweening pretensions could not have
failed to cause him in the campaign. Don John might now, with a good
grace, and without any cost to himself, make all the concessions to the
veteran so strenuously demanded by Philip. It was in this amiable mood
that the prince pushed forward his march, eager to prevent the
disastrous consequences which might arise from the marquis's abandonment
of his post.
As he drew near to Guescar, he beheld the old nobleman riding towards
him at the head of his retainers, with a stiff and stately port, like
one who had no concessions or explanations to make for himself. Without
alighting from his horse, as he drew near the prince, he tendered him
obeisance by kissing the hand which the latter graciously extended
towards him. "Noble marquis," said Don John, "your great deeds have shed
a lustre over your name. I consider myself fortunate in having the
opportunity of becoming personally acquainted with you. Fear not that
your authority will be in the least abridged by mine. The soldiers under
my command will obey you as implicitly as myself. I pray you to look on
me as a son, filled with feelings of reverence for your valour and your
experience, and designing on all occasions to lean on your counsels for
support."[213]
The courteous and respectful tone of the prince seems to have had its
effect on the iron nature of the marquis, as he replied, "There is no
Spaniard living who has a stronger desire than I have to be personally
acquainted with the distinguished brother of my sovereign, or who would
probably be a greater gainer by serving under his banner. But to speak
with my usual plainness, I wish to withdraw to my own house; for it
would never do for me, old as I am, to hold the post of a
subaltern."[214] He then accompanied Don John back to the town, giving
him, as they rode along, some account of the siege and of the strength
of the place. On reaching the quarters reserved for the
commander-in-chief, Los Velez took leave of the prince; and, without
further ceremony, gathering his knights and followers about him, and
escorted by a company of horse, he rode off in the direction of his town
of Velez Blanco, which was situated at no great distance, amidst the
wild scenery stretching toward the frontiers of Murcia. Here among the
mountains he lived in a retirement that would have been more honourable
had it not been purchased by so flagrant a breach of duty.[215]
The whole story is singularly characteristic, not merely of the man, but
of the times in which he lived. Had so high-handed and audacious a
proceeding occurred in our day, no rank, however exalted, could have
screened the offender from punishment. As it was, it does not appear
that any attempt was made at an inquiry into the marquis's conduct. This
is the more remarkable, considering that it involved such disrespect to
a sovereign little disposed to treat with lenity any want of deference
to himself. The explanation of the lenity shown by him on the present
occasion may perhaps be found, not in any tenderness for the reputation
of his favorite, but in Philip's perceiving that the further prosecution
of the affair would only serve to give greater publicity to his own
egregious error in retaining Los Velez in the command, when his conduct
and the warnings of others should long ago have been regarded as proof
of his incapacity.
On the marquis's departure, Don John lost no time in resuming his march
at the head of a force which now amounted to twelve thousand foot and
eight hundred horse, besides a brilliant array of chivalry, who, as we
have seen, had come to seek their fortunes in the war. A few hours
brought the troops before Galera; and Don John proceeded at once to
reconnoitre the ground. In this survey he was attended by Quixada,
Requesens, and the greater part of the cavalry. Having completed his
observations, he made his arrangements for investing the place.
The town of Galera occupied a site singularly picturesque. This,
however, had been selected, certainly not from any regard to its
romantic beauty, still less for purposes of convenience, but for those
of defence against an enemy,--a circumstance of the first importance in
a mountain country so wild and warlike as that in which Galera stood.
The singular shape of the rocky eminence which it covered was supposed,
with its convex summit, to bear some resemblance to that of a galley
with its keel uppermost. From this resemblance the town had derived its
name.[216]
The summit was crowned by a castle, which in the style of its
architecture bore evident marks of antiquity. It was defended by a wall,
much of it in so ruinous a condition as to be little better than a mass
of stones loosely put together. At a few paces from the fortress stood a
ravelin. But neither this outwork nor the castle itself could boast of
any other piece of artillery than two falconets, captured from Los Velez
during his recent siege of the place, and now mounted on the principal
edifice. Even these had been so injudiciously placed as to give little
annoyance to an enemy.
The houses of the inhabitants stretched along the remainder of the
summit, and descended by a bold declivity the north-western side of the
hill to a broad plain known as the _Eras_, or "Gardens." Through this
plain flowed a stream of considerable depth, which, as it washed the
base of the town on its northern side, formed a sort of moat for its
protection on that quarter. On the side towards the Gardens, the town
was defended by a ditch and a wall now somewhat dilapidated. The most
remarkable feature of this quarter was a church with its belfry or
tower, now converted into a fortress, which, in default of cannon, had
been pierced with loopholes and filled with musketeers,--forming
altogether an outwork of considerable strength, and commanding the
approaches to the town.
[Sidenote: INVESTMENT OF GALERA.]
On two of its sides, the rock on which Galera rested descended almost
perpendicularly, forming the walls of a ravine fenced in on the opposite
quarter by precipitous hills, and thus presenting a sort of natural
ditch on a gigantic scale for the protection of the place. The houses
rose one above another, on a succession of terraces, so steep that in
many instances the roof of one building scarcely reached the foundation
of the one above it. The houses which occupied the same terrace, and
stood therefore on the same level, might be regarded as so many
fortresses. Their walls, which, after the Moorish fashion, were
ill-provided with lattices, were pierced with loopholes, that gave the
marksmen within the command of the streets on which they fronted; and
these streets were still further protected by barricades thrown across
them at only fifty paces' distance from each other.[217] Thus the whole
place bristled over with fortifications, or rather seemed like one great
fortification itself, which nature had combined with art to make
impregnable.
It was well victualled for a siege, at least with grain, of which there
was enough in the magazines for two years' consumption. Water was
supplied by the neighbouring river, to which access had been obtained by
a subterranean gallery, lately excavated in the rock. These necessaries
of life the Moriscoes could command. But they were miserably deficient
in what, in their condition, was scarcely less important,--fire-arms and
ammunition. They had no artillery except the two falconets before
noticed; and they were so poorly provided with muskets as to be mainly
dependent on arrows, stones, and other missiles, such as had filled the
armories of their ancestors. To these might be added swords, and some
other weapons for hand-to-hand combat. Of defensive armour they were
almost wholly destitute. But they were animated by an heroic spirit, of
more worth than breastplate or helmet, and to a man they were prepared
to die rather than surrender.
The fighting men of the place amounted to three thousand, not including
four hundred mercenaries, chiefly Turks and adventurers from the Barbary
shore. The town was, moreover, encumbered with some four thousand women
and children; though, as far as the women were concerned, they should
not be termed an incumbrance in a place where there was no scarcity of
food; for they showed all the constancy and contempt of danger possessed
by the men, whom they aided not only by tending the sick and wounded,
but by the efficient services they rendered them in action. The story of
this siege records several examples of these Morisco heroines, whose
ferocious valour emulated the doughtiest achievements of the other sex.
It is not strange that a place so strong in itself, where the women were
animated by as brave a spirit as the men, should have bid defiance to
all the efforts of an enemy like Los Velez, though backed by an army in
the outset at least as formidable in point of numbers as that which now
sat down before it under the command of John of Austria.[218]
Having concluded his survey of the ground, the Spanish general gave
orders for the construction of three batteries, to operate at the same
time on different quarters of the town. The first and largest of these
batteries, mounting ten pieces of ordnance, was raised on an eminence on
the eastern side of the ravine. Though at a greater distance than was
desirable, the position was sufficiently elevated to enable the guns to
command the castle and the highest parts of the town.
The second battery, consisting of six heavy cannon, was established
lower down the ravine, towards the south, at the distance of hardly more
than seventy paces from the perpendicular face of the rock. The
remaining battery, composed of only three guns of smaller calibre, was
erected in the Gardens, and so placed as to operate against the tower
which, as already noticed, was attached to the church.
The whole number of pieces of artillery belonging to the besiegers did
not exceed twenty. But they were hourly expecting a reinforcement of
thirteen more from Cartagena. The great body of the forces was disposed
behind some high ground on the east, which effectually sheltered the men
from the fire of the besieged. The corps of Italian veterans, the flower
of the army, was stationed in the Gardens, under command of a gallant
officer named Pedro de Padilla. Thus the investment of Galera was
complete.
The first object of attack was the tower in the Gardens, from which the
Moorish garrison kept up a teasing fire on the Spaniards, as they were
employed in the construction of the battery, as well as in digging a
trench, in that quarter. No sooner were the guns in position than they
delivered their fire, with such effect that an opening was speedily made
in the flimsy masonry of the fortress. Padilla, to whom the assault was
committed, led forward his men gallantly to the breach, where he was met
by the defenders with a spirit equal to his own. A fierce combat ensued.
It was not a long one; for the foremost assailants were soon reinforced
by others, until they overpowered the little garrison by numbers, and
such as escaped the sword took refuge in the defences of the town that
adjoined the church.
Flushed with his success in thus easily carrying the tower, which he
garrisoned with a strong body of arquebusiers, Don John now determined
to make a regular assault on the town, and from this same quarter of the
Gardens, as affording the best point of attack. The execution of the
affair he entrusted, as before, to Juan de Padilla and his Italian
regiment. The guns were then turned against the rampart and the
adjoining buildings. Don John pushed forward the siege with vigour,
stimulating the men by his own example, carrying fagots on his shoulders
for constructing the trenches, and, in short, performing the labours of
a common soldier.[219]
By the twenty-fourth of January, practicable breaches had been effected
in the ancient wall; and at the appointed signal, Padilla and his
veterans moved swiftly forward to the attack. They met with little
difficulty from the ditch or from the wall, which, never formidable from
its height, now presented more than one opening to the assailants. They
experienced as little resistance from the garrison. But they had not
penetrated far into the town before the aspect of things changed. Their
progress was checked by one of those barricades already mentioned as
stretched across the streets, behind which a body of musketeers poured
well-directed volleys into the ranks of the Christians. At the same
time, from the loopholes in the walls of the buildings, came incessant
showers of musket-balls, arrows, stones, and other missiles, which swept
the exposed files of the Spaniards, soon covering the streets with the
bodies of the slain and the wounded. It was in vain that the assailants
stormed the houses, and carried one entrenchment after another. Each
house was a separate fortress; and each succeeding barricade, as the
ascent became steeper, gave additional advantage to its defenders, by
placing them on a greater elevation above their enemy.
[Sidenote: FIERCE ASSAULTS.]
Thus beset in front, flank, and rear, the soldiers were completely
blinded and bewildered by the pitiless storm which poured on them from
their invisible foe. Huddled together, in their confusion they presented
an easy mark to the enemy, who shot at random, knowing that every
missile would carry its errand of death. It seemed that the besieged had
purposely drawn their foes into the snare, by allowing them to enter the
town without resistance, until, hemmed in on all sides, they were
slaughtered like cattle in the shambles.
The fight had lasted an hour, when Padilla, seeing his best and bravest
falling around him, and being himself nearly disabled by a wound, gave
the order to retreat; an order obeyed with such alacrity, that the
Spaniards left numbers of their wounded comrades lying in the street,
vainly imploring not to be abandoned to the mercy of their enemies. A
greater number than usual of officers and men of rank perished in the
assault, their rich arms making them a conspicuous mark amidst the
throng of assailants. Among others was a soldier of distinction named
Juan de Pacheco. He was a knight of the order of St. James. He had
joined the army only a few minutes before the attack, having just
crossed the seas from Africa. He at once requested Padilla, who was his
kinsman, to allow him to share in the glory of the day. In the heat of
the struggle, Padilla lost sight of his gallant relative, whose
insignia, proclaiming him a soldier of the Cross, made him a peculiar
object of detestation to the Moslems; and he soon fell, under a
multitude of wounds.[220]
The disasters of the day, however mortifying, were not a bad lesson to
the young commander-in-chief, who saw the necessity of more careful
preparation before renewing his attempt on the place. He acknowledged
the value of his brother's counsel, to make free use of artillery and
mines before coming to close quarters with the enemy.[221] He determined
to open a mine in the perpendicular side of the rock, towards the east,
and to run it below the castle and the neighbouring houses on the
summit. For this he employed the services of Francesco de Molina, who
had so stoutly defended Orgiba, and who was aided in the present work by
a skilful Venetian engineer. The rock, consisting of a light and brittle
sandstone, was worked with even less difficulty than had been expected.
In a short time the gallery was completed, and forty-five barrels of
powder were lodged in it. Meanwhile the batteries continued to play with
great vivacity on the different quarters of the town and castle. A small
breach was opened in the latter, and many buildings on the summit of the
rock were overthrown. By the twenty-seventh of January all was ready for
the assault.
It was Don John's purpose to assail the place on opposite quarters.
Padilla, who still smarted from his wound, was to attack the town, as
before, on the side towards the Gardens. The chief object of this
manoeuvre was to create a diversion in favour of the principal
assault, which was to be made on the other side of the rock, where the
springing of the mine, it was expected, would open a ready access to the
castle. The command on this quarter was given to a brave officer named
Antonio Moreno. Don John, at the head of four thousand men, occupied a
position which enabled him to overlook the scene of action.
On the twenty-seventh, at eight in the morning, the signal was given by
the firing of a cannon; and Padilla, at the head of his veterans, moved
forward to the attack. They effected their entrance into the town with
even less opposition than before; for the cannonade from the Gardens had
blown away most of the houses, garrisoned by the Moslems, near the wall.
But as the assailants pushed on, they soon became entangled, as before,
in the long and narrow defiles. The enemy, entrenched behind their
redoubts thrown across the streets, poured down their murderous volleys
into the close ranks of the Spaniards, who were overwhelmed, as on the
former occasion, with deadly missiles of all kinds from the occupants of
the houses. But experience had prepared them for this; and they had come
provided with mantelets, to shelter them from the tempest. Yet, when the
annoyance became intolerable, they would storm the dwellings; and a
bloody struggle usually ended in putting their inmates to the sword.
Each barricade, too, as the Spaniards advanced, became the scene of a
desperate combat, where the musket was cast aside, and men fought hand
to hand with sword and dagger. Now rose the fierce battle-cries of the
combatants, one party calling on St. Jago, the other on Mahomet, thus
intimating that it was still the same war of the Cross and the Crescent
which had been carried on for more than eight centuries in the
Peninsula.[222] The shouts of the combatants, the clash of weapons, the
report of musketry from the adjoining houses, the sounds of falling
missiles, filled the air with an unearthly din, that was reverberated
and prolonged in countless echoes through the narrow streets, converting
the once peaceful city into a Pandemonium. Still the Spaniards, though
slowly winning their way through every obstacle, were far from the
table-land on the summit, where they hoped to join their countrymen from
the other quarter of the town. At this crisis a sound arose which
overpowered every other sound in this wild uproar, and for a few moments
suspended the conflict.
This was the bursting of the mine, which Don John, seeing Padilla well
advanced in his assault, had now given the order to fire. In an instant
came the terrible explosion, shaking Galera to its centre, rending the
portion of the rock above the gallery into fragments, toppling down the
houses on its summit, and burying more than six hundred Moriscoes in the
ruins. As the smoke and dust of the falling buildings cleared away, and
the Spaniards from below beheld the miserable survivors crawling forth,
as well as their mangled limbs would allow, they set up a fierce yell of
triumph. The mine, however, had done but half the mischief intended; for
by a miscalculation in the direction, it had passed somewhat to the
right of the castle, which, as well as the ravelin, remained uninjured.
Yet a small breach had been opened by the artillery in the former; and
what was more important, through the shattered sides of the rock itself
a passage had been made, which, though strewn with the fallen rubbish,
might afford a practicable entrance to the storming party.
[Sidenote: FIERCE ASSAULTS.]
The soldiers, seeing the chasm, now loudly called to be led to the
assault. Besides the thirst for vengeance on the rebels who had so long
set them at defiance, they were stimulated by the desire of plunder; for
Galera, from its great strength, had been selected as a place of deposit
for the jewels, rich stuffs, and other articles of value belonging to
the people in the neighbourhood. The officers, before making the attack,
were anxious to examine the breach and have the rubbish cleared away, so
as to make the ascent easier for the troops. But the fierce and
ill-disciplined levies were too impatient for this. Without heeding the
commands or remonstrances of their leaders, one after another they broke
their ranks, and, crying the old national war-cries, "_San Jago!_"
"_Cierra Espana!_" "St. James!" and "Close up Spain!" they rushed madly
forward, and, springing lightly over the ruins in their pathway, soon
planted themselves on the summit. The officers, thus deserted, were not
long in following, resolved to avail themselves of the enthusiasm of the
men.
Fortunately the Moriscoes, astounded by the explosion, had taken refuge
in the town, and thus left undefended a position which might have given
great annoyance to the Spaniards. Yet the cry no sooner rose, that the
enemy had scaled the heights, than, recovering from their panic, they
hurried back to man the defences. When the assailants, therefore, had
been brought into order and formed into column for the attack, they were
received with a well-directed fire from the falconets, and with volleys
of musketry from the ravelin, that for a moment checked their advance.
But then rallying, they gallantly pushed forward through the fiery
sleet, and soon found themselves in face of the breach which had been
made in the castle by their artillery. The opening, scarcely wide enough
to allow two to pass abreast, was defended by men as strong and
stout-hearted as their assailants. A desperate struggle ensued, in which
the besieged bravely held their ground, though a Castilian ensign, named
Zapata, succeeded in forcing his way into the place, and even in
planting his standard on the battlements. But it was speedily torn down
by the enemy, while the brave cavalier, pierced with wounds, was thrown
headlong on the rocky ground below, still clutching the standard with
his dying grasp.
Meanwhile the defenders of the ravelin kept up a plunging fire of
musketry on the assailants; while stones, arrows, javelins, fell thick
as rain-drops on their heads, rattling on the harness of the cavaliers,
and inflicting many a wound on the ill-protected bodies of the soldiery.
The Morisco women bore a brave part in the fight, showing the same
indifference to danger as their husbands and brothers, and rolling down
heavy weights on the ranks of the besiegers. These women had a sort of
military organization, being formed into companies. Sometimes they even
joined in hand-to-hand combats with their enemies, wielding their swords
and displaying a prowess worthy of the stronger sex. One of these
Amazons, whose name became famous in the siege, was seen on this
occasion to kill her antagonist, and bear away his armour as the spoils
of victory. It was said that, before she received her mortal wound,
several Spaniards fell by her hand.[223]
Thus, while the besieged, secure within their defences, suffered
comparatively little, the attacking column was thrown into disorder.
Most of its leaders were killed or wounded. Its ranks were thinned by
the incessant fire from the ravelin and castle; and, though it still
maintained a brave spirit, its strength was fast ebbing away. Don John,
who from his commanding position had watched the field, saw the
necessity of sending to the support of his troops six companies of the
reserve, which were soon followed by two others. Thus reinforced, they
were enabled to keep their ground.
Meanwhile the Italian regiment under Padilla had penetrated far into the
town. But they had won their way inch by inch, and it had cost them
dear. There was not an officer, it was said, that had not been wounded.
Four captains had fallen. Padilla, who had not recovered from his former
wound, had now received another, still more severe. His men, though
showing a bold front, had been so roughly handled, that it was clear
they could never fight through the obstacles in their way, and join
their comrades on the heights. While little mindful of his own wounds,
Padilla saw with anguish the blood of his brave followers thus poured
out in vain; and, however reluctantly, he gave the order to retreat.
This command was the signal for a fresh storm of missiles from the
enemy. But the veterans of Naples, closing up their ranks as a comrade
fell, effected their retreat in the same cool and orderly manner in
which they had advanced, and, though wofully crippled, regained their
position in the trenches.
Thus disengaged from the conflict on this quarter, the victorious
Moslems hastened to the support of their countrymen in the castle, where
they served to counterbalance the reinforcement received by the
assailants. They fell at once on the rear of the Christians, whose front
ranks were galled by the guns from the enemy's battery--though clumsily
served--while their flanks were sorely scathed by the storm of musketry
that swept down from the ravelin. Thus hemmed in on all sides, they were
indeed in a perilous situation. Several of the captains were killed. All
the officers were either killed or wounded; and the narrow ground on
which they struggled for mastery was heaped with the bodies of the
slain. Yet their spirits were not broken; and the tide of battle, after
three hours' duration, still continued to rage with impotent fury around
the fortress. They still strove, with desperate energy, to scale the
walls of the ravelin, and to force a way through the narrow breach in
the castle. But the besieged succeeded in closing up the opening with
heavy masses of stone and timber, which defied the failing strength of
the assailants.
Another hour had now elapsed, and Don John, as from his station he
watched the current of the fight, saw that to prolong the contest would
only be to bring wider ruin on his followers. He accordingly gave the
order to retreat. But the men who had so impetuously rushed to the
attack, in defiance of the commands of their officers, now showed the
same spirit of insubordination when commanded to leave it; like the
mastiff who, maddened by the wounds he has received in the conflict,
refuses to loosen his hold on his antagonist, in spite of the chiding of
his master. Seeing his orders thus unheeded, Don John, accompanied by
his staff, resolved to go in person to the scene of action, and enforce
obedience by his presence. But on reaching the spot, he was hit on his
cuirass by a musket-ball, which, although it glanced from the
well-tempered metal, came with sufficient force to bring him to the
ground. The watchful Quixada, not far distant, sprang to his aid; but it
appeared he had received no injury. His conduct, however, brought down
an affectionate remonstrance from his guardian, who, reminding him of
the king's injunctions besought him to retire, and not thus expose a
life so precious as that of the commander-in-chief to the hazards of a
common soldier.
The account of the accident soon spread, with the usual exaggerations,
among the troops, who, after the prince's departure, yielded a slow and
sullen obedience to his commands. Thus for a second time the field of
battle remained in possession of the Moslems; and the banner of the
crescent still waved triumphantly from the battlements of Galera.[224]
[Sidenote: PREPARATIONS FOR A LAST ATTACK.]
The loss was a heavy one to the Spaniards, amounting, according to their
own accounts--which will not be suspected of exaggeration--to not less
than four hundred killed and five hundred wounded. That of the enemy,
screened by his defences, must have been comparatively light. The loss
fell most severely on the Spanish chivalry, whose showy dress naturally
drew the attention of the well-trained Morisco marksmen. The bloody roll
is inscribed with the names of many a noble house in both Andalusia and
Castile.
This second reverse of his arms stung Don John to the quick. The eyes of
his countrymen were upon him; and he well knew the sanguine
anticipations they had formed of his campaign, and that they would hold
him responsible for its success. His heart was filled with mourning for
the loss of his brave companions in arms. Yet he did not give vent to
unmanly lamentation; but he showed his feelings in another form, which
did little honour to his heart. Turning to his officers, he exclaimed:
"The infidels shall pay dear for the Christian blood they have spilt
this day. The next assault will place Galera in our power; and every
soul within its walls--man, woman, and child--shall be put to the sword.
Not one shall be spared. The houses shall be razed to the ground, and
the ground they covered shall be sown with salt."[225] This inhuman
speech was received with general acclamations. As the event proved, it
was not an empty menace.
The result of his operations showed Don John the prudence of his
brother's recommendation,--to make good use of his batteries and his
mines before coming to close quarters with the enemy. Philip, in a
letter written some time after this defeat, alluding to the low state of
discipline in the camp, urged his brother to give greater attention to
the morals of the soldiers,--to guard especially against profanity and
other offences to religion, that by so doing he might secure the favour
of the Almighty.[226] Don John had intimated to Philip, that, under some
circumstances, it might be necessary to encourage his men by leading
them in person to the attack. But the king rebuked the spirit of the
knight-errant, as not suited to the commander, and admonished his
brother that the place for him was in the rear; that there he might be
of service in stimulating the ardour of the remiss; adding, that those
who went forward promptly in the fight, had no need of his presence to
encourage them.[227]
Don John lost no time in making his preparations for a third and last
assault. He caused two new mines to be opened in the rock on either side
of the former one, and at some thirty paces' distance from it. While
this was going on, he directed that all the artillery should play
without intermission on the town and castle. His battering-train,
meantime, was reinforced by the arrival of fourteen additional pieces of
heavy ordnance from Cartagena.
The besieged were no less busy in preparing for their defence. The women
and children toiled equally with the men in repairing the damages in the
works. The breaches were closed with heavy stones and timber. The old
barricades were strengthened, and new ones thrown across the streets.
The magazines were filled with fresh supplies of stones and arrows. Long
practice had made the former missile a more formidable weapon than usual
in the hands of the Moriscoes. They were amply provided with water, and,
as we have seen, were well victualled for a siege longer than this was
likely to prove. But, in one respect, and that of the last importance,
they were miserably deficient. Their powder was nearly all expended.
They endeavoured to obtain supplies of ammunition, as well as
reinforcements of men, from Aben-Aboo. But the Morisco prince was fully
occupied at this time with maintaining his ground against the duke of
Sesa, in the west. His general, El Habaqui, who had charge of the
eastern army, encouraged the people of Galera to remain firm, assuring
them that before long he should be able to come to their assistance. But
time was precious to the besieged.[228]
The Turkish auxiliaries in the garrison greatly doubted the possibility
of maintaining themselves, with no better ammunition than stones and
arrows, against the well-served artillery of the Spaniards. Their
leaders accordingly, in a council of war, proposed that the troops
should sally forth and cut their way through the lines of the besiegers,
while the women and children might pass out by the subterranean avenue
which conducted to the river, the existence of which, we are told, was
unknown to the Christians. The Turks, mere soldiers of fortune, had no
local attachment or patriotic feeling to bind them to the soil. But when
their proposal was laid before the inhabitants, they all, women as well
as men, treated the proposition with disdain, showing their
determination to defend the city to the last, and to perish amidst its
ruins rather than surrender.
Still sustained by the hope of succour, the besieged did what they could
to keep off the day of the assault. They did not, indeed, attempt to
counter-mine; for, if they had possessed the skill for this, they had
neither tools nor powder. But they had made sorties on the miners, and,
though always repulsed with loss, they contrived to hold the camp of the
besiegers in a constant state of alarm.
On the sixth of February, the engineers who had charge of the mines gave
notice that their work was completed. The following morning was named
for the assault. The orders of the day prescribed that a general
cannonade should open on the town at six in the morning. It was to
continue an hour, when the mines were to be sprung. The artillery would
then play for another hour, after which the signal for the attack would
be given. The signal was to be the firing of one gun from each of the
batteries, to be followed by a simultaneous discharge of all. The orders
directed the troops to show no quarter to man, woman, or child.
[Sidenote: EXPLOSION OF THE MINES.]
On the seventh of February, the last day of the Carnival, the besiegers
were under arms with the earliest dawn. Their young commander attracted
every eye by the splendour of his person and appointments. He was armed
_cap-a-pie_, and wore a suit of burnished steel, richly inlaid with
gold. His casque, overshadowed by brilliant plumes, was ornamented with
a medallion displaying the image of the Virgin.[229] In his hand he
carried the baton of command; and as he rode along the lines addressing
a few words of encouragement to the soldiers, his perfect horsemanship,
his princely bearing, and the courtesy of his manners reminded the
veterans of the happier days of his father, the emperor. The cavaliers
by whom he was surrounded emulated their chief in the richness of their
appointments; and the Murcian chronicler, present on that day, dwells
with complacency on the beautiful array of southern chivalry gathered
together for the final assault upon Galera.[230]
From six o'clock till seven, a furious cannonade was kept up from the
whole circle of batteries on the devoted town. Then came the order to
fire the mines. The deafening roar of ordnance was at once hushed into a
silence profound as that of death, while every soldier in the trenches
waited, with nervous suspense, for the explosion. At length it came,
overturning houses, shaking down a fragment of the castle, rending wider
the breach in the perpendicular side of the rock, and throwing off the
fragments with the force of a volcano. Only one mine, however, exploded.
It was soon followed by the other, which, though it did less damage,
spread such consternation among the garrison, that, fearing there might
still be a third in reserve, the men abandoned their works, and took
refuge in the town.
When the smoke and dust had cleared away, an officer with a few soldiers
was sent to reconnoitre the breach. They soon returned with the tidings
that the garrison had fled, and left the works wholly unprotected. On
hearing this, the troops, with furious shouts, called out to be led at
once to the assault. It was in vain that the officers remonstrated,
enforcing their remonstrances, in some instances, by blows with the flat
of their sabres. The blood of the soldiery was up; and, like an
ill-disciplined rabble, they sprang from their trenches in wild
disorder, as before, and, hurrying their officers along with them, soon
scaled the perilous ascent, and crowned the heights without opposition
from the enemy. Hurrying over the _debris_ that strewed the ground, they
speedily made themselves masters of the deserted fortress and its
outworks,--filling the air with shouts of victory.
The fugitives saw their mistake, as they beheld the enemy occupying the
position they had abandoned. There was no more apprehension of mines.
Eager to retrieve their error, they rushed back, as by a common impulse,
to dispute the possession of the ground with the Spaniards. It was too
late. The guns were turned on them from their own battery. The
arquebusiers who lined the ravelin showered down on their heads missiles
more formidable than stones and arrows. But, though their powder was
nearly gone, the Moriscoes could still make fight with sword and dagger,
and they boldly closed, in a hand-to-hand contest with their enemy. It
was a deadly struggle, calling out--as close personal contest is sure to
do--the fiercest passions of the combatants. No quarter was given; none
was asked. The Spaniard was nerved by the confidence of victory, the
Morisco by the energy of despair. Both fought like men who knew that on
the issue of this conflict depended the fate of Galera. Again the
war-cries of the two religions rose above the din of battle, as the one
party invoked their military apostle, and the other called on Mahomet.
It was the same war-cry which for more than eight centuries had sounded
over hill and valley in unhappy Spain. These were its dying notes, soon
to expire with the exile or extermination of the conquered race.
The conflict was at length terminated by the arrival of a fresh body of
troops on the field with Padilla. That chief had attacked the town by
the same avenue as before; everywhere he had met with the same spirit of
resistance. But the means of successful resistance were gone. Many of
the houses on the streets had been laid in rains by the fire of the
artillery. Such as still held out were defended by men armed with no
better weapons than stones and arrows. One after another, most of them
were stormed and fired by the Spaniards; and those within were put to
the sword, or perished in the flames.
It fared no better with the defenders of the barricades. Galled by the
volleys of the Christians, against whom their own rude missiles did
comparatively little execution, they were driven from one position to
another; as each redoubt was successively carried, a shout of triumph
went up from the victors, which fell cheerily on the ears of their
countrymen on the heights; and when Padilla and his veterans burst on
the scene of action, it decided the fortunes of the day.
There was still a detachment of Turks, whose ammunition had not been
exhausted, and who were maintaining a desperate struggle with a body of
Spanish infantry, in which the latter had been driven back to the very
verge of the precipice. But the appearance of their friends under
Padilla gave the Spaniards new heart; and Turk and Morisco, overwhelmed
alike by the superiority of the numbers and of the weapons of their
antagonists, gave way in all directions. Some fled down the long avenues
which led from the summit of the rock. They were hotly pursued by the
Spaniards. Others threw themselves into the houses, and prepared to make
a last defence. The Spaniards scrambled along the terraces, letting
themselves down from one level to another by means of the Moorish
ladders used for that purpose. They hewed openings in the wooden roofs
of the buildings, through which they fired on those within. The helpless
Moriscoes, driven out by the pitiless volleys, sought refuge in the
street. But the fierce hunters were there, waiting for their miserable
game, which they shot down without mercy,--men, women, and children;
none were spared. Yet they did not fall unavenged; and the corpse of
many a Spaniard might be seen stretched on the bloody pavement, lying
side by side with that of his Moslem enemy.
More than one instance is recorded of the desperate courage to which the
women as well as the men were roused in their extremity. A Morisco girl,
whose father had perished in the first assault in the Gardens, after
firing her dwelling, is said to have dragged her two little brothers
along with one hand, and, wielding a scimitar with the other, to have
rushed against the foe, by whom they were all speedily cut to pieces.
Another instance is told, of a man who, after killing his wife and his
two daughters, sallied forth, and calling out, "There is nothing more to
lose; let us die together!" threw himself madly into the thick of the
enemy.[231] Some fell by their own weapons, others by those of their
friends, preferring to receive death from any hands but those of the
Spaniards.
Some two thousand Moriscoes were huddled together in a square not far
from the gate, where a strong body of Castilian infantry cut off the
means of escape. Spent with toil and loss of blood, without ammunition,
without arms, or with such only as were too much battered or broken for
service, the wretched fugitives would gladly have made some terms with
their pursuers, who now closed darkly around them. But the stag at bay
might as easily have made terms with his hunters and the fierce hounds
that were already on his haunches. Their prayers were answered by volley
after volley, until not a man was left alive.
More than four hundred women and children were gathered together without
the walls, and the soldiers, mindful of the value of such a booty, were
willing to spare their lives. This was remarked by Don John, and no
sooner did he observe the symptoms of lenity in the troops, than the
flinty-hearted chief rebuked their remissness, and sternly reminded them
of the orders of the day. He even sent the halberdiers of his guard and
the cavaliers about his person to assist the soldiers in their bloody
work; while he sat a calm spectator, on his horse, as immovable as a
marble statue, and as insensible to the agonizing screams of his victims
and their heart-breaking prayers for mercy.[232]
[Sidenote: CRUEL MASSACRE.]
While this was going on without the town, the work of death was no less
active within. Every square and enclosure that had afforded a temporary
refuge to the fugitives was heaped with the bodies of the slain. Blood
ran down the kennels like water after a heavy shower. The dwellings were
fired, some by the conquerors, others by the inmates, who threw
themselves madly into the flames rather than fall into the hands of
their enemies. The gathering shadows of evening--for the fight had
lasted nearly nine hours[233]--were dispelled by the light of the
conflagration, which threw an ominous glare for many a league over the
country, proclaiming far and wide the downfall of Galera.
At length Don John was so far moved from his original purpose as to
consent that the women, and the children under twelve years of age,
should be spared. This he did, not from any feeling of compunction, but
from deference to the murmurs of his followers, whose discontent at
seeing their customary booty snatched from them began to show itself in
a way not to be disregarded.[234] Some fifteen hundred women and
children, in consequence of this, are said to have escaped the general
doom of their countrymen.[235] All the rest, soldiers and citizens,
Turks, Africans, and Moriscoes, were mercilessly butchered. Not one man,
if we may trust the Spaniards themselves, escaped alive! It would not be
easy, even in that age of blood, to find a parallel to so wholesale and
indiscriminate a massacre.
Yet, to borrow the words of the Castilian proverb, "If Africa had cause
to weep, Spain had little reason to rejoice."[236] No success during the
war was purchased at so high a price as the capture of Galera. The loss
fell as heavily on the officers and men of rank as on the common file.
We have seen the eagerness with which they had flocked to the standard
of John of Austria. They showed the same eagerness to distinguish
themselves under the eye of their leader. The Spanish chivalry were sure
to be found in the post of danger. Dearly did they pay for that
pre-eminence; and many a noble house in Spain wept bitter tears when the
tidings came of the conquest of Galera.[237]
Don John himself was so much exasperated, says the chronicler, by the
thought of the grievous loss which he had sustained through the
obstinate resistance of the heretics,[238] that he resolved to carry at
once into effect his menace of demolishing the town, so that not one
stone should be left on another. Every house was accordingly burnt or
levelled to the ground, which was then strewed with salt, as an accursed
spot, on which no man was to build thereafter. A royal decree to that
effect was soon afterwards published; and the village of straggling
houses, which, undefended by a wall, still clusters round the base of a
hill, in the Gardens occupied by Padilla, is all that now serves to
remind the traveller of the once flourishing and strongly fortified city
of Galera.
In the work of demolition Don John was somewhat retarded by a furious
tempest of sleet and rain, which set in the day after the place was
taken. It was no uncommon thing at that season of the year. Had it come
on a few days earlier, the mountain torrents would infallibly have
broken up the camp of the besiegers, and compelled them to suspend
operations. That the storm was so long delayed, was regarded by the
Spaniards as a special interposition of Heaven.
The booty was great which fell into the hands of the victors; for
Galera, from its great strength, had been selected by the inhabitants of
the neighbouring country as a safe place of deposit for their
effects,--especially their more valuable treasures of gold, pearls,
jewels, and precious stuffs. Besides these, there was a great quantity
of wheat, barley, and other grain, stored in the magazines, which
afforded a seasonable supply to the army.
No sooner was Don John master of Galera, than he sent tidings of his
success to his brother. The king was at that time paying his devotions
at the shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe. The tidings were received with
exultation by the court,--by Philip with the stolid composure with which
he usually received accounts either of the success or the discomfiture
of his arms. He would allow no public rejoicings of any kind. The only
way in which he testified his satisfaction was by offering up thanks to
God and the Blessed Virgin, "to whom," says the chronicler, "he thought
the cause should be especially commended, as one in which more glory was
to be derived from peace than from a bloody victory."[239] With such
humane and rational sentiments, it is marvellous that he did not
communicate them to his brother, and thus spare the atrocious massacre
of his Morisco vassals at Galera.
[Sidenote: DISASTER AT SERON.]
But, however revolting this massacre may appear in our eyes, it seems to
have left no stain on the reputation of John of Austria in the eyes of
his contemporaries. In reviewing this campaign, we cannot too often call
to mind that it was regarded not so much as a war with rebellious
vassals, as a war with the enemies of the Faith. It was the last link in
that long chain of hostilities which the Spaniard for so many centuries
had been waging for the recovery of his soil from the infidel. The
sympathies of Christendom were not the less on his side, that now, when
the trumpet of the crusader had ceased to send forth its notes in other
lands, they should still be heard among the hills of Granada. The
Moriscoes were everywhere regarded as infidels and apostates; and there
were few Christian nations whose codes would not at that day have
punished infidelity and apostasy with death. It was no harder for them
that they should be exterminated by the sword than by the fagot. So far
from the massacre of the Moriscoes tarnishing the reputation of their
conqueror, it threw a gloomy _eclat_ over his achievement, which may
have rather served to add to its celebrity. His own countrymen, thinking
only of the extraordinary difficulties which he had overcome, with pride
beheld him entering on a splendid career, that would place his name
among those of the great paladins of the nation. In Rome he was hailed
as the champion of Christendom; and it was determined to offer him the
baton of generalissimo of the formidable league which the pope was at
this time organizing against the Ottoman empire.[240]