The furious spirit of the jealous Ayesha had pursued its designs with

all the energy of disappointed ambition and implacable revenge. The

hated slave Zoraya was now the first sultana, and had superseded her

rival in royal precedence as well as in the affections of her husband.

The vizier, Abul-Kasim-Venegas, the son of a noble Christian renegade,

to whom the Emir, infatuated with the beautiful favorite, had resigned

the direction of affairs, was practically the ruler of the kingdom.

The intimacy enjoyed by these two confidants of foreign descent and

detested lineage was urged as little less than treason by the scheming

adherents of Ayesha. Some time previously, by the advice of the

vizier, the insolence of certain chiefs of the Abencerrages had been

punished by summary execution. The support of that powerful tribe was

thus forever alienated from the King; its members eagerly listened to

the overtures of the rebellious party; and the proud and vindictive

African cavaliers expected with impatience the hour of retribution.

The reverse at Alhama was the signal for revolt. The King had scarcely

returned before serious riots, led by the Abencerrages, were reported

in the Albaycin. It was no secret who was really responsible for these

disturbances; and Ayesha and her son Boabdil, whom, although still a

youth, it was intended to place upon the throne, were promptly arrested

and imprisoned in the great tower of Comares in the Alhambra. This

decisive step insured the public safety for the time. The rioters

dispersed, the leaders concealed themselves, and the city resumed its

ordinary aspect of quiet and peace. But this apparent tranquillity was

of short duration. The female slaves of Ayesha, having made a rope

of their veils, lowered the young prince from a window of the tower

overlooking the Darro, where the Abencerrage chieftains awaited him;

and at dawn, escorted by a considerable band of horsemen, he was far on

his way to Guadix, whose alcalde was one of his partisans.

Ignorant of the extent of the conspiracy or of the number of exalted

personages implicated in it, Muley Hassan attached but little

importance to the escape of his rebellious son. But, a few days

afterwards, while the King was enjoying the luxurious seclusion

of one of his suburban palaces, a great tumult arose in the city.

Information was brought to him that the Abencerrages had proclaimed the

sovereignty of Boabdil; that, incited by the presence of the prince

and the shouts of his supporters, the populace of the Albaycin had

again risen in arms; that the revolution was rapidly gaining ground

and seemed about to involve the entire city; and, worse than all, that

the alcalde Ibn-Comixa had raised the rebel standard on the citadel of

the Alhambra. The African guards, led by the vizier, in vain attempted

to stem the tide of insurrection. Muley Hassan himself, who hoped by

his presence to awe the seditious multitude, was received with shouts

of defiance and derision. At dawn the entire population of Granada

assembled and expelled the King and his adherents, who fled in disorder

to the castle of Mondujar. The friends and relatives of the dethroned

monarch, apprised of his misfortune, hastened to tender their aid

and sympathy. A band of five hundred was selected for an attempt to

recover the capital. Attired in black, on a cloudy night, they scaled

the walls of the Alhambra. Every soldier whom they encountered was put

to death. The alarm spread; the garrison withdrew to the towers of the

citadel; and the assailants, descending to the city, were soon engaged

with the insurgents in a hand-to-hand conflict in the streets. The

midnight tumult aroused the entire population, and the light of torches

and tapers soon disclosed the insignificant numbers of the enemy. The

citizens, animated by the consciousness of strength, by the constant

arrival of reinforcements, and by the fear of punishment, fought with

determined courage; and the King, after leaving more than half of his

followers on the field, only escaped through the obscurity of the

night. Extricating himself with difficulty from the labyrinth of narrow

lanes in the suburbs, he pursued his way to Malaga, which city remained

loyal to his cause. An implacable triangular struggle, in which

Moslem autonomy could not fail in the end to be destroyed, was now

inaugurated. Two kings and two courts, inflamed with mutual resentment,

each determined, by any expedient, to accomplish the ruin of the other,

were in arms. Every community was distracted by the quarrels of hostile

factions. Partisan discord afflicted even the remote settlements of

the Sierras. On the other side was the common enemy, aggressive,

united, vigilant; more powerful in numbers, more fertile in resources,

than at any former period. At no time in the history of the Moorish

occupation had the demand for unanimity in the national councils been

so imperative, and yet at no time had those councils been so divided.

Anxiety for party success had in the minds of the infuriated Moors

obliterated all concern for the public welfare. Even the semblance of

patriotism, and that religious zeal more important in the eyes of the

Moslem than attachment to his country, were overcome by the bitterness

of factional animosity. With union and co-operation the ultimate result

of the contest could not be doubtful, but it might have been prolonged,

and the evil day of persecution and servitude have been deferred for

perhaps another century. Under the existing political conditions, with

provincial disintegration aided by foreign hostility, national ruin was

swift and certain.

The Christians were quick to grasp the opportunities afforded by these

dissensions. Already Ferdinand, at the head of a numerous force, had

overrun the Vega, leaving behind him a smoking track of devastation.

From the ramparts of Granada the Moors beheld, with impotent rage and

despair, the flames of mills and farm-houses, the massacre of peasants,

and the destruction of orange-groves and olive-plantations. Thousands

of sheep and cattle became the spoil of the Castilians in this foray,

and the supplies of Alhama, already sufficient for a siege of many

months’ duration, were again replenished, this time with the plundered

harvests of the unfortunate Moslems of the Vega. In spite of its

massive defences, its plentiful supplies, and its numerous garrison,

the retention of that place was doubtful so long as its communications

with the provinces of the Spanish monarchy might be interrupted. The

Vega of Granada was approached through an opening in the mountains

guarded by the ancient city of Loja. Founded by Abdallah, Khalif

of Cordova, it had long been regarded as one of the most important

fortified places in the Peninsula. Its great castle and frowning walls

imparted a forbidding aspect to the town, which was, however, more than

compensated by the beautiful and picturesque environs that encircled

it, not the least important of its attractions being the vineyards and

olive-orchards which covered every declivity. Its irrigating system,

dependent upon the Genil and other smaller streams, had been extended

by the industrious inhabitants until the country, for many leagues,

exhibited the highest attainable state of cultivation.

The capture of Loja was now a military necessity. While it remained

in the hands of the Moors the possession of Alhama could never be

absolutely secure. Once in the power of the Spaniards, an unobstructed

way was opened into the Vega, and the capital itself might at any

time be threatened. The governor of the city was Aliatar, who, reared

amidst the quiet of mercantile pursuits, had, by the display of

military ability and reckless courage, attained great renown in arms.

His exploits were the theme of all Andalusia. The frequency of his

marauding expeditions in the vicinity of Lucena had gained for that

district the name of the “Garden of Aliatar.” Moraima, his favorite

daughter, was the wife of Boabdil. For nearly two generations he had

been an active spirit in every campaign against the Christians, but

the accumulation of years had neither damped his ardor nor diminished

his activity. His wealth was expended in the maintenance of troops and

the ransom of captives. So few were the luxuries which he reserved for

his family that his daughter was compelled to borrow jewels in order

to appear with becoming dignity before her betrothed lover, the heir

to the Moslem throne. This famous chieftain was now more than seventy

years of age. Familiar with every artifice of guerilla warfare, brave

even to the extreme of rashness, fertile in the resources imparted by

the varied experiences of a long and adventurous career, beloved by his

followers, dreaded by his enemies, it would have been difficult to find

within the limits of Granada a more formidable and capable adversary

than this doughty old Moslem commander.

Elated by the success of his recent expedition in the Vega, Ferdinand,

expecting an easy conquest, hastened to lay siege to Loja. With only

thirteen thousand men, ill-provided with the necessary equipment and

without even sufficient rations to supply him for a week, on the first

day of July, 1482, he encamped before the city. It was soon perceived

that his army was not strong enough to even properly invest it. The

inequalities of the ground, whose natural ruggedness was increased by

innumerable trees and hedges, rendered it impossible for the lines to

remain unbroken or for the various divisions to preserve communication

with each other. On the level land and in the valley, a maze of

intersecting canals made the evolutions of cavalry difficult and often

impracticable. The partial isolation of the different detachments

of the besieging army not only rendered them constantly liable to

surprise, but diminished their confidence and greatly impaired their

efficiency. The disorderly arrangement of the Spaniards, thus seriously

hampered by the nature of their surroundings, was soon perceived by

the Moors. Aliatar, at the head of three thousand horsemen, quietly

issued from the western gate, concealed several hundred of his

bravest warriors amidst the rank vegetation of the orchards, and

suddenly attacked the post commanded by Don Rodrigo Giron, Master of

Calatrava. The Christians, although taken unawares, defended themselves

bravely; the Moors retreated in apparent confusion; and their unwary

antagonists, impelled by their headlong impetuosity, were soon

intercepted by the ambuscade. The retiring enemy now returned to the

charge, and the Spanish knights, assailed in both front and rear, with

difficulty held their ground. The Master of Calatrava, conspicuous for

his gallantry as well as well as for the richness of his dress, which

bore the peculiar cross of his order, became the target for a cloud of

missiles, two of which having penetrated a vital part, the intrepid

young cavalier fell dying from his horse. It was only by superhuman

efforts that any of his followers escaped a similar fate. Many were

killed and wounded, but at last the superior weight and armor of the

Spaniards prevailed, and the Moorish trumpets sounded a retreat.

Encumbered with the bodies of their unfortunate companions, the

surviving knights returned to their encampment, where the overturned

tents and broken equipage which, mingled in dire confusion, everywhere

strewed the ground, attested the fierceness of an attack that had

resulted so disastrously to the Christian arms. It now became evident

to even the arrogant and opinionated Ferdinand that something more than

military enthusiasm was necessary to successfully conduct a siege.

Without reluctance he consented to withdraw to the Rio Frio until an

army already on the march from Cordova to reinforce him should arrive.

Want of discipline or inexcusable neglect prevented the communication

of this design to the different commanders; and when, at daybreak,

the tents were struck on the height of Abul-Hassan, and the vigilant

Aliatar, ready for any emergency, stormed the outpost, a frightful

panic arose. The exultant cries of the Moors and the appearance of

their standards in the Spanish camp created the impression among the

besiegers that Aliatar had been reinforced, and that they were in

imminent danger of defeat and capture. The general alarm was increased

by the unexpected removal of the tents of the detachment, by the

memory of the prowess of their enemies and the advantage the latter

had recently gained, and especially by their own lamentable want of

self-reliance, inspired by their isolated position and defective

discipline. The terrified infantry fled at once in a body, throwing

the knights, who in vain attempted to rally them, into confusion. The

Moors, planting a battery on a commanding eminence, by the accuracy

of their fire increased the general disorder. Their desperate charges

against the escort guarding the King, which, though outnumbered and

surrounded, maintained its ground with inflexible resolution, for a

time made the issue doubtful. Never during his life was Ferdinand in

greater danger. His bravest captains were wounded and unhorsed. The

Marquis of Cadiz, at the head of seventy knights, received undismayed

the furious attack of the Moslem horsemen. Dismounted, and armed only

with his sword, this gallant hero, fighting in the front of the line,

performed prodigies of valor; and his followers, emulating his example,

made such an obstinate resistance that the assailants, exhausted

by their efforts, finally withdrew from the field. The rout of the

Christian army was complete. The siege had lasted only five days. Some

of the terror-stricken fugitives did not halt until they had placed

a distance of twenty miles between themselves and the scene of their

disgrace. Only the heroic efforts of a handful of cavaliers had saved

the King from capture. For more than a league the ground was strewn

with abandoned clothing, standards, and weapons. The siege-train fell

into the hands of the enemy. Flushed with victory, the soldiers of

Aliatar, amidst the acclamations of their countrymen, re-entered the

city enriched with the spoils of the Christian camp.

The disastrous result of the attempt upon Loja filled the isolated

garrison of Alhama with the direst apprehensions. It required all

the address and authority of the governor, Don Luis Portocarrero, to

dissuade his command from wholesale desertion. The sudden appearance of

a Moorish army added to their fears, and only the prompt relief sent by

Isabella preserved to the Spanish Crown this important fortress, gained

at such cost, and defended with such difficulty. The Moors retired;

a new garrison was introduced; and Don Juan de Vera assumed command,

supported by several youthful knights who had voluntarily sought this

post of danger, ambitious of adventure and distinction. Among them

was Hernan Perez del Pulgar, whose career resembles that of a paladin

of romance, and who was destined to great celebrity in the ensuing

operations of the war with Granada.

Muley Hassan, in his palace at Malaga, had learned with indignation of

the investment of Loja. Collecting his forces, he prepared to go to the

aid of that city when news reached him of the repulse and withdrawal of

the Christians. Deeming himself secure from interference, and bent on

revenge, he descended with seventy-five hundred men upon the fertile

district of Medina-Sidonia. The vicinity of Gibraltar and Algeziras,

the plains of Estepona--in short, all of that region as far as the

River Celemin--experienced the awful atrocities of border warfare.

The operations were planned and executed with systematic regularity

under the direction of the King in person. The army was divided into

detachments, to each of which was assigned a separate territory as

its exclusive prey. By this arrangement much time was saved, and the

devastation was rendered more complete. On all sides rose the smoke of

burning harvests and dwellings. From every point of the compass armed

squadrons brought spoil and prisoners to the Moslem head-quarters. The

cattle alone numbered more than five thousand. It was years since the

Moors had secured such a booty. Impunity had relaxed the vigilance

of the inhabitants of that portion of Andalusia, long exempt from

the efforts of Moslem enterprise and audacity. The accumulations of

industry were therefore more accessible and less diligently guarded

than in localities constantly exposed to the inroads of the enemy.

On his return, Muley Hassan fell into an ambuscade, where his cattle

were stampeded and many of them lost; but the injury he received was

trifling, and a few days afterwards he entered Malaga in triumph.

This bold achievement of the Moorish king aroused the martial emulation

of the Castilian cavaliers, mortified by the triumph of an infidel

foe. In March, 1483, several of the chiefs of the greatest houses of

the kingdom met at Antequera, accompanied by their vassals, to agree

upon a plan of campaign. The influence and obstinacy of Don Alonzo

de Cardenas, Grand Master of Santiago, dominated the assembly, in

opposition to the counsels of leaders of great and varied experience;

and the Ajarquia, a rugged and sparsely settled district north of

Malaga, which exaggerated reports had declared to be filled with

innumerable herds of cattle, was selected as the object of the

expedition. In a long and irregular line the adventurers entered the

gloomy defiles of the Sierra. The advance guard was commanded by Don

Alonzo de Aguilar; in the centre were the Count of Cifuentes and the

Marquis of Cadiz; the rear, as the post of danger and honor, was in

charge of the Grand Master of Santiago. As the Spaniards penetrated

farther into the mountains, the aspect of the country became more and

more forbidding. The paths were dangerous and uncertain. Precipitous

cliffs towered far above their heads. At times the road skirted the

borders of chasms whose depths were invisible and denoted only by the

faint roaring of some distant torrent. Not a living thing was in sight.

Everywhere the silence of desolation prevailed, and, except a few

deserted hovels, there was nothing to indicate the presence of man. The

soldiers, exasperated by disappointment and careless of danger, pursued

their way in noisy disorder. The huts of the shepherds, set on fire by

the advance guard, cast a lurid light over the gloomy landscape and

disclosed the broken and scattered ranks of the Spaniards, who, in an

unknown country, buried in the cavernous recesses of the mountains and

surrounded by enemies, neglected to observe even the precautions of

an ordinary march. The approach of night redoubled the embarrassment,

already sufficiently serious. The guides, misled by a multiplicity of

paths and apprehensive of danger, lost their way. All order was now at

an end; the number of stragglers grew more numerous in the darkness;

the main body, whose progress was impeded by the mule-train loaded with

camp equipage, was thrown into confusion; and through the obscurity the

signal-fires of the enemy could be seen on the mountain-tops flashing

far and wide the movements of the expedition. While the trouble and

turmoil were greatest, the rear guard, where the military habits of

the Knights of Santiago still preserved an appearance of obedience

and discipline, was attacked by the mountaineers. From inaccessible

heights showers of arrows and stones of enormous size descended upon

the helpless cavaliers, whose disadvantageous position did not suffer

them either to defend themselves or to dislodge their enemies. As

the number of the latter, summoned by the signal-fires, increased,

the rest of the army became involved in the hopeless contest; where,

in a contracted valley, crowded together in a struggling mass, the

foolhardy band of Christian adventurers seemed devoted to inevitable

destruction. Meanwhile, the chain of lights and the swiftness of

agile couriers had conveyed to Malaga information of the presence of

enemies in the Ajarquia. Abdallah-al-Zagal, brother of the King, and

his equal in military experience and prowess, and Redwan Venegas, a

distinguished chieftain, at once set out with a strong body of cavalry

for the scene of action. The first ray of dawn revealed to the harassed

Christians the well-armed troops of the King on the heights far above

them. With almost inconceivable rapidity, considering the obstacles

presented by the ground, the mountaineers for a distance of many miles

had assembled in defence of their homes. All the exits of the Ajarquia

were guarded. A detachment of Berbers occupied the pass on the side

of the sea, prepared to intercept all who might attempt to escape in

that direction. As soon as the light of day enabled the Spaniards to

fully realize the extent of the peril that threatened them, they were

almost ready to give way to despair. From the shelter of rock and

trees, the adroit cross-bowmen of Venegas picked off with impunity all

conspicuous for their dress or armor. Those who were not pierced with

missiles or crushed with rocks were hurled headlong over precipices.

Resistance and flight seemed equally useless. The Spaniards deserting

their colors, each solicitous for his individual safety, scattered in

every direction. The Grand Master of Santiago, by a resolute charge in

which the most of his surviving comrades were lost, managed to reach

the summit of the mountain, and, cutting his way through the astonished

peasants, made his escape. Abdallah-al-Zagal, who, with the larger part

of the detachment from Malaga, was posted at the only pass south of the

Ajarquia, intercepted a small band of fugitives whose broken weapons

and battered armor indicated the desperate peril to which they had

recently been exposed. Among these were the Marquis of Cadiz, Alonzo

de Aguilar, and the Count of Cifuentes. Unable to advance farther,

by dint of strenuous efforts they maintained their position until

night. Then the Marquis, guided by a resolute and experienced scout in

his service, threaded the dangerous paths of the sierra and finally

reached Antequera. The Count of Cifuentes was surrounded and taken.

Alonzo de Aguilar and his companions concealed themselves in caves and

thickets, remaining quiet by day and travelling at night, subsisting

upon roots and herbs, until they succeeded in joining their countrymen

at the frontier outposts. For many days the unfortunate Castilians,

one by one, their arms and armor lost, their clothes torn to rags,

gaunt with famine, tottering with fatigue, straggled, half-demented,

into the cities of Alhama and Antequera. Of the entire number who had

enlisted in the hazardous enterprise less than half escaped. Nearly a

hundred were killed. Eight hundred and twenty-five were carried captive

to Malaga. Four hundred of those highest in rank were set aside for

ransom. Two hundred more were imprisoned in the dungeons of Granada and

Ronda. Among the dead were two brothers of the Marquis of Cadiz, Gomez

Mendez de Sotomayor, Governor of Utrera, and many other noblemen of

illustrious rank. More than thirty commanders of the Order of Santiago

perished or were captured. So great was the terror of the Christians

who strayed aimlessly through the defiles and along the slopes of the

mountains, that in many cases four or five surrendered to a single

unarmed enemy. Even the peasant women made prisoners of fugitives

overcome with terror and weakness whom they encountered in the suburbs

of Malaga. The booty was increased by the large sums of money intrusted

to the soldiers by their friends for the purchase of cattle, slaves,

and jewels, in the expectation of certain victory and abundant spoil.

Nothing in the annals of Spanish conquest indicates its mercenary

character more clearly than this significant circumstance. The devout

chroniclers, lamenting the avarice of their countrymen, refer to this

crushing defeat as a manifest proof of the wrath of Providence. The

example of Alhama had induced the Spaniards to consider their arms as

invincible. The treasure found in that city had aroused the cupidity

of every adventurer in the Peninsula. This overweening confidence had

now received a serious check. In all the cities of Andalusia there

was distress and mourning; in the court unconcealed dismay; in nearly

every family the anguish of suffering or the more harrowing bitterness

of suspense. A fatal blow had been struck at Spanish prestige. The

affair of the Ajarquia, following closely upon the repulse at Loja, had

not only tarnished the lustre of their arms, but had diminished the

estimate in which the Catholic sovereigns were held in Europe. Less

than six hundred peasants were engaged in the fight which terminated

in the rout of the Andalusian nobles, who, with their retainers,

outnumbered their assailants seven to one. The banners, the emblazoned

surcoats, the magnificent harnesses, the war-horses, followed by the

most illustrious captives in chains, were exhibited, for the exultation

of the people and the glory of Al-Zagal, in the cities of Ronda, Loja,

Malaga, and Granada. The prisoners not considered valuable enough to be

reserved for ransom and the camp followers and traders, who expected

anything but this result, were sold at auction with the equipage, the

mules, and the other spoils of war.

These successive military exploits of Muley Hassan contributed greatly

to his popularity and imparted a prodigious impulse to his cause.

Many adventurous spirits of the kingdom, who had hitherto held aloof,

now joined his standard. The defection of a number of influential

partisans, attracted to Malaga by the prospect of plunder and renown,

alarmed the faction of Boabdil, who, heedless of the perils that

menaced his country, remained shamefully inert in the paradise of the

Alhambra. Forced at length to action by the indignant remonstrances

of his mother and the Abencerrages, who daily observed the evidences

of his waning power, he reluctantly prepared for a foray into the

land of the Christians. The frontiers of Cordova were selected as

the scene of operations, for the lords of that territory had nearly

all been left on the field of the Ajarquia or were still immured in

Moorish dungeons. At the head of nine thousand infantry and seven

hundred cavalry, the Moslem prince took his departure from Granada.

With ill-advised ostentation the army proceeded to Loja, where Aliatar

joined it with a squadron of veterans, whose experience was of far more

practical value than the vainglorious array of young cavaliers who

formed the splendid bodyguard of the King. Unlike his father, whose

plans were carried out with the silence and rapidity which insure

success, Boabdil displayed in his march all the pomp and deliberation

of a royal progress. Indebted to his folly and inexperience, the

Christians, fully apprised of his movements, were already prepared for

his reception. A small but resolute body of cavaliers under Don Diego

Fernandez de Cordova, Alcalde de los Donceles, had been collected at

Lucena. The Moors, having passed the Genil and ravaged the districts of

Montilla and Aguilar, marching in disorder and encumbered with booty,

directed their course towards that place, with a view of taking it by

storm. On the twentieth of April the Castilian signals announced the

proximity of the enemy. The city of Lucena was not adapted, either

by reason of formidable defences or of a numerous population, to

offer a prolonged resistance to such an army as now threatened it.

The citizens, accustomed to border alarms, behaved with the utmost

intrepidity. An attack of the Moors was repulsed with great loss. In

retaliation for this unexpected result, the orchards in the vicinity

were cut down and every building that could be reached destroyed. This

work of ruin accomplished, a peremptory demand to surrender was sent to

the governor. The latter, aware of the approach of the Count of Cabra

with reinforcements, temporized with the Moslems until their scouts

advised them that the Christian banners were in sight, when, unwilling

to risk the loss of their plunder, they retired slowly towards the

Genil. The Spaniards, though greatly inferior in number, were unwilling

to abandon the present opportunity for an engagement upon more equal

terms, and followed closely the retreating Moslems. Dividing their

forces near the river, one detachment was sent forward to surprise the

vanguard,--which was conducting the flocks and the captives,--while

the remainder harassed the rear. Thus attacked on every side, where

the dense forest concealed the insignificant numbers of the enemy,

the Moors, unaccustomed to the restraints of discipline, became

terror-stricken and fled. The efforts of Boabdil and his commanders to

rally them were fruitless. A frightful massacre resulted; the fugitives

were pierced with lances or trampled under the hoofs of the charging

squadrons; on the banks of the stream, already heaped up with the

dead, hundreds sank under the strokes of the heavy Toledo blades. With

conspicuous gallantry, Boabdil and Aliatar, supported by a handful of

followers, attempted to check the irresistible onset of their foes.

Oppressed by the weight of numbers, the veteran Moslem captain was

cut down, and his body, swept away by the swift current of the Genil,

was never seen again. The magnificent appearance of the King; his

damascened armor and cloak of crimson velvet embroidered with gold; the

rich caparison of his horse; the beauty of his weapons, indicating a

person of distinction, made him the target for a thousand missiles.

Pierced with a shot, his horse fell under him. Mingled with a crowd of

foot-soldiers, who were pressing on to the river, he found his progress

obstructed by a pile of cattle, which during the confusion of the rout

had been trampled to death in the mire. The impetuosity of the pursuers

admitted of no delay, and the distressed fugitive, turning aside,

attempted to conceal himself among the laurels and brambles that lined

the banks of the stream. His showy costume betrayed him, and he was at

once intercepted by Martin Hurtado, a petty official of Lucena, who,

after a slight resistance, effected his capture. While his identity was

unsuspected, his exalted rank was evident; and the comrades of Hurtado,

desirous of sharing the ransom of such a distinguished personage,

attempted to deprive him of the credit of the exploit. A serious

altercation ensued, and the soldiery prepared to establish their rival

pretensions by force of arms, when the opportune arrival of the Alcalde

de los Donceles ended the dispute. Interposing his authority, he caused

the illustrious prisoner to be conducted to Lucena, where, although

closely guarded, he was treated with the greatest respect until an

investigation might establish his rank and determine the sum to be

exacted for his release.

The victory of Lucena more than counteracted the effect of the disaster

in the Ajarquia. The Moorish army was practically annihilated; of

nine thousand seven hundred scarcely two hundred escaped. The list of

killed and missing included the names of the most eminent nobles and

citizens of Granada. A thousand horses, nine hundred mules, twenty-two

standards, the sumptuous tents and furniture of the royal household,

and all the spoil taken in the fertile plains of Lucena and Aguilar

were the fruits of the victory. Thus the varying fortune of war, like

the vibration of a pendulum, again swung towards the side of the

Christians; but in the future its impetus was to be retarded, and

finally repelled forever from the cause of the Moors, whose complete

disorganization had long portended irretrievable disaster.

The news of the defeat and capture of Boabdil terrified the capital.

The absence of the King and his most powerful adherents made it

impossible for the faction of Ayesha to resist the advance of Muley

Hassan, who, without delay, resumed possession of his throne. With

no apparent difficulty, he re-established his authority; but, with

an infatuation not easy to explain, he permitted the deposed sultana

to retire with her treasures to the citadel of the Alcazaba, an act

of singular imprudence, considering her vindictive character, her

political influence, and her well-known talent for intrigue.

The identity of Boabdil having been ascertained through the respectful

homage paid him by Moorish captives accidentally taken into his

presence, he was removed by order of Ferdinand to the castle of

Porcuna. With his usual caution, the Spanish king determined, before

deciding what disposition to make of his prisoner, to weaken his

remaining power as much as possible by an extensive foray into his

dominions. By this design he not only contemplated the destruction of

the ripening harvests cultivated to replenish the granaries of the

capital, but also the aggravation of factional hostility, which would

be intensified by indiscriminate devastation, and thus still further

impair the allegiance of the people to rulers either incapable of

sympathy or indisposed to defence.

The expedition was organized on a tremendous scale. All the provinces

of the kingdom were laid under contribution. A body of Swiss

adventurers, whose arms and accoutrements were regarded with curiosity

by the Spaniards, few of whom had ever heard of their country, brought

to the aid of the Catholic sovereigns their Helvetian obstinacy and

thorough discipline. The army proper was composed of ten thousand

cavalry and twenty thousand foot. A body of thirty thousand men, whose

sole duty was to destroy, was provided with axes, saws, and fagots. In

addition to these was a host of non-combatants, muleteers, servants,

traders, and camp-followers. A train of eighty thousand beasts of

burden was required to transport supplies and munitions of war for

this great force. In the face of such a power, Granada, at the time

of its greatest prosperity, would have found resistance difficult. As

it was,--with one of its princes a captive and the other infirm and

detested, its population divided by faction and weakened by discontent

and misfortune,--there was no military organization capable of even

seriously harassing the invaders. The latter, therefore, pursued their

relentless course without hindrance. For a distance of many leagues,

and in full view of Granada, the country was swept bare of vegetation.

The orchards were destroyed. The vines were dug up. The harvests were

burnt. Not a tree or a shrub remained in what had so recently been a

paradise. In a single district three hundred farm-houses and towers

were committed to the flames. The net-work of silver rivulets, hitherto

concealed by myrtle hedges and pomegranate and almond groves, now

sparkled amidst a scene of sombre desolation; where the monotonous

level was only relieved by charred and smoking heaps of what had

been, but the day before, the picturesque, flower-embowered homes

of a prosperous and happy people. The numbers of the enemy, and the

organized system of destruction which he employed, enabled him in a few

hours to eradicate every trace of that agricultural skill which had

required centuries to develop and carry to perfection. Many towns were

taken by storm and abandoned to spoliation. From the walls of such as

offered a successful resistance, the dismayed inhabitants saw nothing

as far as the eye could reach but a desert. Having accomplished the

object of the expedition, Ferdinand disbanded his army and returned to

Cordova. The moral and physical effect of this inhuman policy upon the

Moors was more decisive than those of a dozen successful campaigns.

Their means of subsistence were gone. Their military spirit was broken.

Continually exposed to a repetition of such misfortunes, no incentive

for recuperation could exist. Under these circumstances, it is not

strange that great numbers of the Moslems, abandoned to despair,

should seriously contemplate a transfer of their allegiance to those

sovereigns who had hitherto been their ruthless enemies and oppressors.

A council composed of the principal personages of the realm was now

assembled at Cordova to decide what should be done with the Moorish

king. After much altercation and argument, it was decided to release

him, it being recognized that his captivity, by removing an element

of discord from the councils of the Moslems, would have a tendency

to reconcile the jarring factions and prolong the war. Two embassies

from Granada appeared before the assembled nobles,--one from Ayesha,

whom the blind folly of Muley Hassan permitted to plot treason

under the very shadow of his palace, and which was ready to make

any concessions to obtain the deliverance of the royal captive; the

other from his father, offering a magnificent reward for the delivery

of his rebellious son into his hands. The envoys of the Sultana

alone received an attentive hearing. Boabdil was to render homage to

the Spanish monarchs and pay an annual tribute of twelve thousand

doubloons of gold; to liberate four hundred captives, three-fourths

of them to be named by his master; and to permit unmolested passage

through his dominions to the Christian armies, and furnish them

with provisions whenever they were at war with Muley Hassan or his

brother Abdallah-al-Zagal. As a security for the performance of

these obligations, the son of the King and a number of the nobles of

Granada were to be delivered as hostages. Boabdil consented without

remonstrance or hesitation to the humiliating terms which insured his

freedom, and the convention was signed. A truce of two years’ duration

was agreed upon; and the illustrious captive, conducted to Cordova,

did homage to his suzerain surrounded by all the pomp of the Spanish

court. Then, provided with a numerous and splendid escort, he returned

to his kingdom, to receive the hollow congratulations of his partisans,

to encounter the contempt of his enemies, and to be the target for

the maledictions of the fickle and infuriated populace, which, not

unjustly, ascribed to his effeminacy and want of resolution the larger

share of the public distress.

The wisdom which advised the release of the Moslem king was not long

in obtaining confirmation. Whether he hesitated, even in a desperate

emergency, to proceed to extremities against his own flesh and blood,

or whether the vigilance which never slept amidst the operations of a

campaign faltered under circumstances of domestic peril, Muley Hassan,

although fully aware of the liberation of his son, made no attempt to

intercept him; and Boabdil, easily avoiding the sentinels and patrols

of the outposts, entered the Albaycin in the dead of night. Without

an hour’s delay his energetic mother called her adherents to arms. At

dawn, the signal for conflict once more resounded throughout the city.

Again the streets streamed with the best blood of the kingdom; again

the savage tribesmen of Africa renewed in the most polished capital of

Europe the fierce hostility which, generations before, had originated

in the depths of the Libyan Desert; again the undiscerning fury of

partisan discord dissipated those resources of wealth and martial

energy that might have saved an empire; disorders which promoted more

rapidly and effectually than a series of victories the designs of the

mortal foes of the Mussulmans of Granada. Considerations of political

expediency, reluctance to longer witness the shedding of blood which

must eventually terminate in the extirpation of the fighting men

of the kingdom, and the consciousness that their countrymen were

involuntarily rendering substantial aid to the Christian cause, induced

the more respectable class of citizens, the doctors of the law, and

the ministers of religion,--in short, those persons in the community

whose opinions were most entitled to respect,--to propose an armistice.

This suggestion having been agreed to with less hesitation than might

have been expected, and the timorous nature of Boabdil prevailing, to

a certain extent, over his ambition, he decided to relinquish for the

time his claims on the capital and remove his court and his following

to Almeria.

Muley Hassan, while thus temporarily delivered from the presence of

his rival, did not fail to realize the precarious character of his

tenure, or the dangers--all the more to be apprehended by reason of

the secrecy that enveloped them--which threatened the existence of

his authority. To counteract these perils and divert the minds of the

disaffected from sedition, he knew well that there was no expedient

so effective as the popular and glorious exercise of war. Amidst the

general demoralization and disgrace, his military reputation, acquired

in fifty campaigns, remained unimpaired and untarnished. Among his

adherents were to be found the ablest and most distinguished commanders

in the Moorish service. Hamet-al-Zegri, Alcalde of Ronda, and Bejer,

Governor of Malaga, had in the entire kingdom no equals in the arts

of investment and ambuscade, no superiors in enterprise and courage.

Twelve hundred picked horsemen and a large body of foot, under these

experienced leaders, were ordered to assemble at Ronda, and, proceeding

from this rendezvous, to overrun and ravage the rich plains of the

province of Seville. Unfortunately for the success of the expedition,

the movements of so many detachments of armed men converging to one

point aroused the suspicions of some Christian spies who were lurking

in the mountains near the former city. The destination of the force was

soon ascertained. The Andalusian chieftains lost no time in summoning

their vassals; and when the Moorish cavalry reached the vicinity of

Utrera they found the country under arms. In the manœuvres which

followed, the Christians employed their own tactics against the Moors

with signal success. The Moslem infantry had remained encamped in the

hills to hold the pass. Farther down, on the banks of the Lopera, a

squadron of cavalry had been stationed to be ready for any unforeseen

emergency. To a third division, comprising the flower of the army, was

assigned the duty of securing the plunder which their companions were

expected to guard during the retreat. The position of the enemy was

well known to the Castilians, whose scouts promptly advised them of

every movement. Leaving a small body of knights to engage the attention

of the marauding parties on the plain, the main body of the Spaniards

surprised and cut to pieces the division lying in ambush on the Lopera.

The noise of the conflict attracted the Berbers from below, but they

arrived too late, and were themselves routed and dispersed. Learning

of the defeat of their comrades, the infantry, who numbered several

thousand, but who in a contest with mail-clad knights were no better

than cowherds or muleteers, fled in confusion without striking a blow.

One fugitive band under Hamet-al-Zegri, guided by a Christian renegade,

reached the Serrania de Ronda in safety. Another, under the Alcalde of

Borje, whose followers had been present at the massacre of the Ajarquia

and wore the armor of the unfortunate cavaliers who had been killed

or taken in that engagement, was pursued, and almost destroyed by the

Marquis of Cadiz. In several instances the Spanish knights recognized

and recovered the arms and harnesses of which they had been despoiled

on that bloody day.

The defeat of Lopera added another disaster to those which announced

the declining fortunes of the Moslem power. The bravest defenders

of the throne of Muley Hassan had been swept away. His prestige was

seriously weakened. Only two hundred Moorish cavaliers returned from

this ill-fated expedition. The governor of Velez was killed; those of

Malaga, Marbella, Coin, Alora, and Comares remained in the hands of the

enemy. The credit for this victory, which reflected so much lustre on

the Spanish arms, was due to Don Luis Portocarrero, who had been the

first Christian governor of Alhama.

About this time the Marquis of Cadiz, ever alert to take advantage of

the negligence of the enemy, learned through his scouts that Zahara,

whose capture had signalized the opening of hostilities, might be

surprised. Making a feigned attack on the town with the main body

of his troops, a scaling-party ascended the walls of the citadel

unobserved, and but a few hours were necessary to regain possession of

the place without the loss of a single life.

Appreciating the necessity for continuous action as well as the

paramount importance of depriving the Moors of the capacity for

resistance by the systematic devastation of their country, Ferdinand

and Isabella now formulated the plan of a more extensive campaign

than had yet been attempted. It embraced the conquest of many towns of

note which had hitherto escaped, to a certain extent, the misfortunes

of war; the desolation of every accessible locality which still

preserved uninjured its crops, its orchards, and its plantations; the

indiscriminate burning of farm-houses, mills, and magazines; and,

finally, the capture of the great mountain fortress of Ronda, whose

remarkable site had caused it to be deemed impregnable, leaving out of

consideration the warlike and ferocious character of the mountaineers

and the African soldiery by whom it was inhabited and garrisoned.

A numerous army was collected at Cordova during the first days of

June, 1484. The train of artillery which was to accompany it was the

most complete and powerful that the imperfect knowledge of ordnance

possessed by that age was capable of providing. Experience had taught

the Spaniards that the most substantial masonry could not stand against

the ponderous projectiles of the clumsy, ill-aimed lombards. The

principal difficulty to be encountered in the prosecution of military

operations was in the transportation of these heavy pieces. The use of

wheels for cannon was unknown, and they had to be painfully dragged

by long teams of oxen or by the combined efforts of hundreds of men.

In Andalusia the highways were none of the best; in the mountainous

regions, where the cannon were required, it was necessary to clear

away obstacles and to build roads to allow their passage. The time

was favorable for an invasion by the Christians. The truce secured

the neutrality and, if demanded, the active co-operation of Boabdil.

Muley Hassan, old and broken by infirmity, blind and helpless, lay

inert in the Alhambra. Universal depression and apathy, aroused only by

the apprehension of more serious disasters and the dismal foreboding

of impending ruin, hung over the land. The bravest champions of the

monarchy had been slain in the bloody scenes of internecine strife or

in the skirmishes of unsuccessful expeditions. The superior prowess

of the odious infidel began to be reluctantly acknowledged; famine,

in a region of proverbial fertility, grew imminent; and the hostile

partisans, eager to cast upon each other the blame of which all were

equally culpable, indulged in the most bitter recriminations.

The campaign was opened by the siege of Alora, whose walls were soon

demolished by the fire of the Spanish artillery, and many neighboring

places of inferior importance surrendered without a blow. The

capitulation of Setenil followed, and the Christians, emboldened by

success and confident of impunity, carried their ravages to the very

environs of the three great cities which represented the royal dignity

of Muley Hassan, and where had long been concentrated the wealth, the

culture, the commerce, and the valor which had exalted the civilization

and maintained the existence of the few remaining provinces of the

Moorish empire.

The invading army, with banners displayed and ready for action,

advanced to a point one mile from the capital. The beautiful suburbs

of that city, already described in these pages, were now ruthlessly

sacrificed to the stern necessities of war. Not only was every tree

levelled with the ground, but every sign of vegetation was obliterated,

not even a leaf or a blade of grass escaped. An area of more than a

hundred square miles was burned. The threshing-floors were torn up and

great stores of grain consumed by fire. The mosques, the villas, and

the towers scattered through the Vega underwent a similar fate. For a

distance of two leagues in all directions from Granada every evidence

of human occupation was blotted out, and the landscape assumed the

aspect of a charred and blackened wilderness. While the Spanish king

was thus employed in the vicinity of the Moorish capital, the Duke of

Medina-Sidonia and the Count of Cabra had wasted with fire and sword

the districts of Loja and Jimena. In the short space of forty days

greater and more permanent injury was inflicted on the country than

during any corresponding period for eight centuries, diversified as

they had been by the struggles of mighty nations for supremacy, by

the inroads of Mauritanian savages, by the sanguinary ambition of

adventurous usurpers, and by the prolonged and ruthless atrocities of

many successive revolutions. Nor did even temporary relief result from

the withdrawal of the invading force. The governors of the captured

towns were ordered to pursue the enemy with unremitting hostility. In

vain did the despairing Moors offer vast sums of gold, the release

of all captives, the delivery of hostages, if their homes and their

remaining means of subsistence might only be spared. In vain did

the once haughty King, who, from the very palace where he now lay

oppressed with old age and blindness, had returned a message of mortal

defiance when summoned to pay tribute--now a pathetic example of

the uncertainty of human aspirations and the instability of earthly

grandeur--descend to the humiliation of requesting as a favor what he

had formerly indignantly rejected as an insult in terms of hatred and

menace. In vain did the infuriated peasantry, rendered desperate by the

prospect of starvation and beggary and by the failure to propitiate

their relentless foes, attempt a resistance which might formerly have

arrested the tide of destruction, but now only aggravated their misery.

Conscious of their superiority, the Catholic sovereigns refused even

the slightest concession to an adversary whom they considered already

in their power.

Meanwhile, the cause of Boabdil, who maintained at Almeria the shadow

of royalty and the empty ceremonial of a court, was daily losing

ground. His close relations with the national enemy, who constantly

provided him with money and with the supplies which the abhorrence of

his subjects withheld, his absolute want of filial affection, and the

fact that his unnatural revolt had been the immediate cause of all the

evils which afflicted the monarchy, so impaired his influence that his

orders were reluctantly obeyed in the very apartments of his palace. A

correspondence was opened between some disaffected faquis of Almeria

and Abdallah-al-Zagal, who was de facto regent of the kingdom, then

resident at Malaga. That redoubtable warrior, with his African guards,

was secretly introduced into the city at night. A tumult arose; the

governor was killed in the confusion which ensued; and the partisans

of Muley Hassan, almost without resistance, added to his dominions

the rich and populous seaport of Almeria. The seizure of the city was

not the sole object of the intrepid old warrior. Sword in hand, and

followed by his escort, he entered the palace and sought the apartments

of Boabdil. He found them empty; but continuing his search he

encountered the young Abul-Haxig, brother of the King, and the fearless

Ayesha, who overwhelmed him with abuse and reproaches. Infuriated by

the failure to secure his nephew, who, awakened by the noise, had

become alarmed and fled, he wreaked his vengeance upon the youthful

prince, whom he cut down with his scimetar; Ayesha was placed in close

confinement; and every Abencerrage prominent in rank or distinguished

by reputation who fell into his hands was unceremoniously put to death.

Accompanied by a handful of attendants, Boabdil escaped to the

frontier, and sought the protection of the Christian court. The

supplications of the exile were heard with sympathy, but they scarcely

accelerated the preparations for the campaign already determined upon.

With a force of twenty-nine thousand men, Ferdinand laid siege to Coin.

The fortifications had been already shaken by the artillery fire when

Hamet-al-Zegri, Alcalde of Ronda, at the head of a squadron of African

cavalry, cut his way through the lines and entered the city. Encouraged

by this reinforcement, the inhabitants redoubled their efforts. A

strong party led by Pedro Ruiz de Alarcon, which had become entangled

in the narrow streets, was annihilated. But personal valor and heroism

could avail nothing against the huge balls of stone that, fired

from the lombards, crushed into shapeless ruin every obstacle they

encountered. Favorable terms of capitulation were asked for and readily

granted. The citizens deserted their homes and sought the hospitality

of their kinsmen; and the valiant Hamet-al-Zegri, at the head of his

veteran troop of Mauritanian horsemen, grimly and in silence traversed

the enemy’s lines and repaired to the seat of his government in the

castle of Ronda.

To that city the attention of Ferdinand and Isabella was now directed.

The difficulties which must attend its siege were apparently

insuperable. It was everywhere recognized as the strongest fortress

in the Peninsula. Built upon a rocky eminence, one-half of its

circumference was protected by an abyss two hundred feet wide and

three hundred and fifty in depth, whose walls, overhanging or

perpendicular, defied all efforts to ascend them; the other was

enclosed by fortifications of gigantic dimensions and apparently

impenetrable solidity. A great citadel, commanding all, towered far

above the roofs of the surrounding buildings. Without artillery the

place was impregnable, and the transportation of ordnance through a

range of mountains of proverbial ruggedness was a task sufficient to

tax to the utmost the resources of the Spanish engineers. Roads must be

constructed, forests levelled, paths cut through the rock, frightful

ravines bridged, before the lombards could be trained upon the mighty

defences of the city.

The greatest reliance of Ronda was not so much upon the peculiar

advantages of its situation as upon the character of its defenders.

It furnished the best cross-bowmen in the Moslem armies. Even the

boys were expert marksmen, having been familiar with the use of that

formidable arm from early childhood. The inhabitants of the Sierra

were noted for their activity, their courage, and their indomitable

ferocity. The peasantry, who ordinarily adopted the avocation of

shepherds, were hardened by daily exposure and the constant presence of

danger to the endurance of every privation. The famous Hamet-al-Zegri,

who had, with unshaken loyalty and distinguished courage, long upheld

the cause of Muley Hassan, was, as previously stated, the governor of

the city; and a numerous band of Gomeres--those African warriors so

conspicuous in the closing scenes of the Reconquest, and whose prowess

had already been so often exhibited in the present war--composed the

garrison.

Uncertain at first whether it would be more advantageous to attack

Ronda or Malaga, Ferdinand, having again advanced into the mountains,

made a reconnoissance in force near the latter city. The warmth of his

reception and the multitude of armed men who appeared on the ramparts

and took part in the skirmishes convinced him that the siege of Malaga

at that time would be too hazardous, and might fail of success.

Information of the approach of the Christians had attracted for the

distance of leagues thousands of fighting mountaineers. Among them

were many from the vicinity of Ronda, including the governor himself

and most of his command, and a number of citizens who little suspected

that their own homes would soon be in danger. With characteristic

astuteness, Ferdinand concealed the plan of the campaign from all

but a few of his commanders. It was generally supposed in the army

that the destination of the expedition was Loja. An advance guard

of eleven thousand men under the Marquis of Cadiz was despatched by

forced marches to blockade the city of Ronda, and prevent its being

reinforced or supplied with provisions. On the arrival of the main body

the lines were permanently intrenched, ditches were excavated, and the

approaches to the camp of the besiegers fortified by the carts used

for the transportation of supplies. On the eighth of May, batteries

stationed at three different points opened fire on the fortifications.

The one belonging to the division of the Marquis of Cadiz, whose

gunners were directed by Moorish renegades, demolished the bottom of

the cliff, which concealed from observation the secret gallery by means

of which the inhabitants were furnished with water. This passage, which

resembled the one at Alhama, was descended by an angular stairway of a

hundred and thirty steps hewn by Christian slaves in the solid rock.

The approach to the stream, commanded by the missiles of the enemy,

could now only be made at the peril of death. Four days afterwards

a breach was made in the walls, the city was entered by storm, and

the castle, to which the garrison had retired, closely invested. It

required but a few discharges from the lombards to demonstrate the

hopelessness of further resistance. A deputation of the principal

citizens implored with success the clemency of the besiegers, and the

inhabitants were permitted to depart unmolested, bearing with them

their personal effects, to seek a precarious asylum in cities soon to

be shaken, in their turn, by the Christian cannon, and to be exposed to

the fate of places abandoned to the fierce passions of an exasperated

soldiery. The Alcalde of Setenil and the Alguacil of Ronda, with more

than a hundred families, desiring to adopt the condition of Mudejares,

or tributary Moors, and thereby to retain their religion and their

customs under the protection of the Spanish Crown, were permitted to

settle near Seville, where, in after-years, their wealth and the heresy

of their detested belief furnished abundant profit and occupation to

the familiars of the Inquisition.

From the dungeons of Ronda, on the day of the surrender, issued four

hundred Christian captives. Their forlorn appearance, their clothes

in rags, and many of them almost naked, their hair and beards long

and tangled, their emaciated forms tottering with the weakness of

famine and confinement, their limbs laden with ponderous fetters,

excited the profound compassion of all who saw them. In the wretched

procession were many victims of the Ajarquia disaster, and a number of

noble youths who, with a devotion rare even in the days of chivalrous

self-sacrifice, had voluntarily delivered themselves into the hands of

the enemy to insure the freedom and safety of their fathers.

The signal-fires announcing the danger which threatened Ronda

had called together from far and near the warlike peasantry of

the mountains. The beacons on the lofty summits of the Serrania

were answered by others forty miles away. At their appearance the

redoubtable Hamet-al-Zegri returned, followed by the bravest soldiers

of Malaga, but his desperate charges upon the Christian lines were

fruitless, and the duration of the siege was so short that no time

remained for more organized effort, either by assault or stratagem. The

amazing rapidity and apparent ease with which one of the most strongly

fortified cities in Europe was driven to extremity created a profound

impression upon the already disheartened Moslems. From almost every

mountain town and settlement as far as Cartama and Marbella messengers

bearing offers of submission hastened to the Christian camp. In less

than a week, fifty places of more or less importance, and the large

extent of territory controlled by them, were added to the Spanish

monarchy. The terms upon which the Mudejares were received as tributary

subjects were exceedingly favorable, and dictated both by clerical

dissimulation and political expediency. On condition of swearing

allegiance to the sovereigns, through their chief’s and magistrates,

of promising to obey the laws, and of paying the same tribute and

taxes which they had formerly been accustomed to render to their own

monarchs, they were permitted to practise unmolested their religious

rites, to possess their own mosques, to be judged by their kadis, and

to transmit and receive by inheritance every species of property, real

and personal. It did not take many years to disclose the insincere

and perfidious motives by which these apparently humane and generous

concessions were dictated. The pathetic history of the Mudejares,

subsequently known as Moriscoes, is one of the bloodiest chapters in

the annals of the Inquisition.

From the very beginning of the war, the policy of the Catholic

sovereigns had been directed even more to depriving their enemies of

the means of sustaining hostilities than to the winning of battles, the

storming of cities, or the occupation of provinces. Every precaution

had been taken to prevent the emirs of Morocco, connected with the

dynasty of Granada by ties of blood, community of religious belief,

and bonds of friendship and sympathy, from assisting their brethren

in their extremity. The traditions of centuries united the reigning

families of Granada and Fez; and, while their intimacy had been

frequently interrupted by invasion and territorial disputes, the

general tenor of their intercourse had been far from inimical, and the

African sultans had rarely turned a deaf ear to the supplications of

their kinsmen oppressed or insulted by the menacing encroachments of

the Christian power. Thoroughly alive to the importance of depriving

their antagonists of this formidable resource, the Spaniards had early

established a vigilant patrol of armed vessels along the southern

coast of the Mediterranean. This patrol was maintained with such

rigor that, while nominally instituted to prevent the conveyance of

men and supplies to Granada, it practically amounted to a strict

blockade of every Mauritanian port, and practically involved the

confiscation of all vessels trading to that part of the coast of

Africa. Without the possession of a naval power adequate to resist

the Spanish fleet, the Emir of Fez, cut off from the commerce of the

Mediterranean, had suffered seriously in his revenues, as well as

from the deprivation of those articles of foreign luxury essential

to the pleasures of an elegant and voluptuous court. Actuated by the

powerful motives of self-interest, the African prince despatched a

splendid embassy to Cordova deploring the condition to which the

maritime interests of his kingdom had been reduced by the unmerited

harshness of the Christian monarchs, soliciting an alliance, and

requesting, in the most respectful terms, the withdrawal of the fleet.

As a proof of the good-will of his master, the Moorish envoy brought

with him many beautiful and costly gifts. The embassy was received

with every mark of distinction by the Spanish sovereigns; assurances

of friendship and consideration were transmitted with all the pomp

and formality of Castilian etiquette to the Sultan of Fez; but the

alliance was declined; and while the strictness of the blockade was

somewhat relaxed, so far as the intercourse of neutrals was concerned,

the scrutiny of the ports, and the visitation of outgoing vessels

suspected of hostile designs, were continued with all their vexatious

severity.

With the desertion of their African brethren the cause of the Spanish

Moslems became indeed desperate. The only hope of foreign succor lost,

abandoned to their own resources, incessantly torn by faction, their

bravest warriors sacrificed to tribal enmity, with division in the

council, treason in the camp, and incompetency and cowardice in the

field, it is one of the most remarkable facts in the history of their

hopeless struggle that it could have been so long maintained in the

face of an enemy growing stronger with every battle, of great numerical

superiority, furnished with every improved means of aggressive warfare,

and supplied with provisions by a territory ten times larger and vastly

more populous than their own.

With the keen discernment born of natural shrewdness and the

strategical experience acquired in repeated campaigns, some of them

attended with serious disaster, Ferdinand and Isabella resolved

hereafter to use every resource for the reduction of the principal

remaining Moorish cities, well aware that the acquisition of any place

of importance would be immediately followed by the submission of a

large extent of contiguous and dependent territory. The most wealthy

and best fortified stronghold still held by the Moslems was Malaga. To

reduce it would require not only a numerous fleet and a powerful army,

but the subjugation of every town in the vicinity which could either

aid the garrison or obstruct the progress of the besiegers. Of these,

Marbella, from whose walls Gibraltar and Ceuta were plainly visible,

and the situation of whose harbor offered a convenient refuge to any

vessels that might escape the vigilance of the Spanish cruisers, was

the next point towards which the efforts of the Catholic monarchs were

directed. A letter was sent to the city, and a submissive response

received. But the tenor of this epistle, while apparently ingenuous,

to the Spanish mind, familiar with the crafty stratagems of infidel

duplicity, conveyed the impression that it had been framed merely for

the purpose of gaining time. As the importance of the object to be

obtained was paramount, it was determined to move the entire army from

Ronda to Marbella, a distance of only eight leagues, but through a

region never before traversed by so numerous a force, and whose natural

difficulties were unequalled by those of any other portion of the

Peninsula. As soon as the Spaniards arrived, Marbella was evacuated;

Montemayor and twelve other towns of the district tendered their

allegiance; and the King, advancing, pitched his tent within a league

of Malaga.

The hardships endured by the troops upon this march exceeded any to

which they had hitherto been subjected, except those resulting from the

defeat of the Ajarquia. Aside from the tremendous and unintermitting

exertions required for the transportation of artillery and munitions

of war along steep paths and over almost inaccessible mountains, the

defective commissary arrangements produced a famine. For days both

men and horses were compelled to subsist on herbs and palmettoes; and

at Marbella the suffering was still intense, as the ships laden with

supplies, detained by contrary winds, were prevented from reaching the

harbor. The Moors, informed by their scouts of the enfeebled condition

of the soldiers, made a furious attack upon the baggage-train while it

was entangled in a narrow pass between the mountains and the sea. The

muleteers and their escort, separated from their comrades, and, by the

nature of the ground, rendered incapable of successful defence, were

instantly thrown into confusion. The Grand Master of Alcantara, who

commanded the rear-guard, by dint of hard fighting finally extricated

himself from his perilous situation, where, had the Moors exhibited a

little more perseverance, a catastrophe might have ensued that would

have jeopardized the safety of the entire Christian army.

The appearance of the King of Spain with a force of imposing numbers,

and part of the siege-train which had levelled with such ease the

formidable walls of Ronda, struck with consternation the inhabitants

of Malaga, unprepared as they were for the contest which was finally

to determine the fate of their lives and fortunes. But it soon became

evident that their foes were in no condition to sustain the labors

of a siege. The privations of a long and arduous campaign could not

have reduced an army to greater distress than that now afflicting the

soldiers of Ferdinand. They tottered with weakness as they marched,

some even dropped fainting in the ranks. It was with difficulty

that the stragglers could be collected--such was the laxity of

discipline--or the sick and the exhausted be rescued from the scouting

parties of the enemy that constantly hung upon their flanks, and

whose tender mercies were slavery and death. The famishing horses,

unable to bear the weight of their riders, were led by the bridle, and

many of them were abandoned. The pack-saddles and the carts used for

the commissariat were empty. In this forlorn plight the army, after

some days, succeeded in reaching Antequera, where an opportunity was

afforded for thorough recuperation preparatory to the resumption of

hostilities.

No circumstance in the history of the Reconquest more clearly

demonstrates the decline of Moslem intrepidity and spirit than this

unmolested retreat of the Christians. In expectation of a siege, all

the available forces of the kingdom had been concentrated at Malaga.

They were commanded by the famous Al-Zagal, one of the greatest

captains of his time, a veteran versed in every stratagem of war, the

idol of his soldiers, the hero of many a successful expedition. The

country through which the exhausted and disorganized force must pass

was of such a character that in many localities a handful of determined

men might easily withstand a host. The condition of the Spaniards, who

were scarcely able to walk, precluded the possibility of a formidable

resistance. And yet, with every advantage on their side, with the enemy

impeded by an invaluable artillery train which could not be defended

from a bold attack, with the fascinating prospect of a royal capture

to excite the emulation of the daring, with the certainty of valuable

spoil and martial glory to inflame the ambitious, the Moors dared not

seize what was almost within their grasp.

Of the numerous governors who had, in succession, been placed in charge

of the important fortress of Alhama, Don Gutierre de Padilla, an

official of high rank in the military order of Calatrava, now enjoyed

that responsible and perilous distinction. The absence of the cavalry

of Granada, summoned to the defence of Malaga, afforded an opportunity

for booty which the rapacious instincts of that officer were unable

to resist. A foray was made, which swept from the very suburbs of

the capital a large number of cattle and sheep and a few unfortunate

captives. During their return the Christians unexpectedly encountered

Al-Zagal with the flower of the Moslem troops. In the engagement which

followed, the Christians were utterly routed, and the few who escaped

were pursued to the gates of Alhama.

His energy, his reputation for knowledge of war, and his executive

ability, had, a short time before, gained for that old warrior the

precarious and barren honor of the crown. The people of Granada, awed

and irritated by the capture of Ronda, demanded with one voice the

recognition of Al-Zagal as king. His recent successful exploit greatly

increased his popularity. Oppressed with his growing infirmities, Muley

Hassan readily consented to abdicate, and to surrender to his brother

the shadow, as he had long enjoyed the substance, of power. While the

streets were ringing with the shouts of the people, who hailed with

enthusiasm the accession of a new and warlike sovereign, Muley Hassan,

conducted by his slaves to a litter, left for the last time the city

which had been the scene of so many victories and so many calamities

during his long and diversified career. Almuñecar was selected as

his temporary residence, its strong position rendering it easy to be

defended by land, while its proximity to the sea left open, in case

of necessity, a way of escape to the coast of Africa. His abdication,

although recognized as a political necessity by the aged King, was too

much for his proud and sensitive spirit, broken by disease and filial

ingratitude. A few months afterwards he expired, unattended save by his

immediate family, at Mondujar, in the valley of Lecrin.

It was the request of the dying monarch that his body should be

interred, not with those of his ancestors, whose reigns had been

immortalized by the glories of arms, of arts, of letters, in the noble

pantheon of the Alhambra, but, as became his misfortunes and his

sorrows, in some solitude, far from the haunts of men. In accordance

with his wishes, the summit of the Sierra Nevada was chosen as the

place of sepulture, and there, covered with eternal snows, rest the

bones of the fierce warrior whose name was once the terror of the

frontier, while the peak of Muley Hassan forms a far more noble and

enduring monument than the splendid tombs of silver and alabaster,

long since broken and scattered to the winds, which once enclosed the

remains of the members of his royal line.

The accession of Al-Zagal was signalized by a brilliant achievement

which confirmed the wisdom of the popular movement which had raised him

to the throne. Ferdinand had formed the project of besieging Moclin,

whose proximity to Granada made it a point of great advantage, and

which, according to information furnished by treacherous spies, was

negligently guarded. With a view to cutting off reinforcements, the

Count of Cabra, with ten thousand men, was sent forward to surround

the city at night. Al-Zagal, duly apprised of this design, anticipated

the arrival of the Christians, and with a force of twenty thousand

soldiers strengthened the garrison, and placed an ambuscade in a narrow

defile through which the path of the invaders lay. The Spaniards, bent

on plunder and scattered in confusion, were suddenly encompassed by a

host of enemies. Surprised themselves when they had hoped to strike the

enemy unawares, and demoralized by the sudden attack in the darkness,

they were slaughtered almost without resistance, and the Count of

Cabra, severely wounded, experienced great difficulty in avoiding

capture. The pursuit extended for a league; the terrified fugitives

were pierced, as they fled, with the Moslem lances; and Al-Zagal,

with a long train of prisoners and the horses and arms secured in the

skirmish, again entered the Alhambra in triumph. As a result of this

reverse the siege of Moclin was for the time abandoned; and the arms

of Ferdinand were turned against the double fortress of Cambil and

Al-Rabal near Jaen, which region had for years been annoyed by the

Moorish freebooters that infested it, and at every opportunity swooped

down upon the fertile plains around that city, bearing away to their

inaccessible stronghold everything within their reach. The fortress

resisted but a few hours after having been subjected to the fire of the

Spanish cannon; and this success, added to the surprise of Zalea, an

outpost castle near Alhama, by the governor of the latter city, to some

extent compensated for the disaster of Moclin.

The death of Muley Hassan, so far from having a tendency to reconcile

the clashing interests of faction, seemed to threaten the inauguration

of scenes of even greater atrocity than had hitherto disgraced the

civil wars of the kingdom. The restless and malignant Ayesha urged

her son, inert at Cordova, to again assert his claim to the throne.

At her instigation, it was publicly asserted that Muley Hassan had

been poisoned by Al-Zagal, whose following soon became seriously

diminished by the corrupt and seditious efforts of her enterprising

partisans. Another bloody struggle, that would have soon exhausted the

remaining strength of the distracted monarchy and precipitated the

disaster, which, though imminent and inevitable, was still regarded as

remote, was averted by the plausible but impolitic suggestion of an

influential faqui, who proposed a division of territory between the two

contending princes. Nothing but the desperate nature of the contest

and the universal apprehension of impending ruin could have reconciled

the minds of the people to the adoption of such an extraordinary

and suicidal measure. To accept it might prolong for a time the

independence of a nation whose existence was already precarious; its

rejection was certain to speedily entail the most fatal consequences.

No one endowed with the smallest measure of ordinary discernment could

imagine that two claimants to the crown, each accustomed to consider

the other as an usurper and an enemy, could reconcile their adverse

interests or even long maintain a suspicious neutrality by a partition

of dominion dictated by mutual fears and apparent necessity. The

complacency with which the proposition was received by both discloses

to what degradation the descendants of the royal line of the Alhamares

had fallen. With equal facility the conditions relating to the several

divisions of and jurisdiction over the different provinces were

adjusted. To Al-Zagal was allotted the territory from the limits of the

district of Almeria to the bridge of Tablate, including the Alpujarras

and the cities of Malaga, Almeria, Velez, and Almuñecar; all of the

remainder was to belong to his nephew. Granada was to be the common

residence of both sovereigns,--to Boabdil was assigned the Alcazaba,

of old the political focus of his party; the residence of Al-Zagal was

established in the Alhambra.

This unwise arrangement made by Boabdil with an implacable enemy of

his suzerain placed him in an ambiguous and compromising position. He

had received his crown under the implied condition of defending it.

By a previous treaty, concluded with the most solemn ceremonies and

ratified under oath, he had voluntarily declared himself a vassal and

tributary of the Spanish sovereigns. If he failed in his duty as the

protector of his subjects, he was liable to be murdered, and certain

to be deposed. His voluntary surrender of half of the dominions he

claimed by the right of inheritance and now held as a fief to a prince

whom his recent negotiations had devoted to perpetual hostility, made

him subject, under feudal law, to the penalties of treason. To add to

his embarrassment, he had no sooner reached Granada than he received

from Ferdinand a stern communication reproaching him with duplicity,

asserting that his compromise with Al-Zagal was an act of treachery

and a breach of his obligations as vassal; that he had forfeited all

right to the consideration or protection of his lords, who would

hereafter hold him responsible for the public distress which must

result from the renewal of hostilities consequent on the violation of

his allegiance. The rising fame of Ferdinand and his daily increase of

power convinced him that he could now dispense with the royal puppet,

with whose pretensions he had distracted the attention of the Moors

from the preservation of that unity of national feeling and singleness

of purpose which alone could render them formidable. The denunciation

of the Castilian King had followed a submissive epistle of Boabdil

reiterating his protestations of obedience, which the indignation of

Ferdinand led him to declare was violated without excuse. Nothing

remained now for the discredited vassal, the ungrateful son, and the

vacillating monarch, who had obtained a crown at the expense of his

country’s prosperity and freedom, and which, in a few years, he must

have legally acquired in the course of nature, but to attempt, by a

determined resistance, to atone in some measure for the misery he had

inflicted and the lives he had sacrificed.

There are few royal personages in history so impotent and contemptible

as Boabdil, and who at the same time have been endowed with such

a capacity for mischief. With singular propriety was he termed by

his countrymen Al-Zogoibi, The Unfortunate. Born in the purple, he

fought and negotiated for a throne which he eventually lost under

circumstances of the deepest humiliation. Indisputably brave, he

never won a battle. During his entire career the most inauspicious

prognostics foretold, to a people deeply versed in the science of omen

and augury, the disastrous result of every martial enterprise. In Spain

he unconsciously contributed to the enthralment of his subjects by

their most vindictive and uncompromising enemy; in Africa, whither he

was driven by relentless fate, he fell, by the hands of barbarians, in

defence of a stranger prince, who, alone among sovereigns, was willing

to accord to a royal exile the rites of hospitality.