CHAPTER XXII

TERMINATION OF THE RECONQUEST

1486–1492

Summary of the Causes of the Decay of the Moslem Empire--Loja

taken by Storm--Progress of the Feud between Al-Zagal and

Boabdil--The Christians assist the Latter--Anarchy in

Granada--Siege of Velez--Ineffectual Attempt of Al-Zagal to

relieve it--Surrender of the City--Situation of Malaga--Its

Delightful Surroundings--Its Vast Commercial and Manufacturing

Interests--It is invested by Ferdinand--Desperate Resistance

of the Garrison--Its Sufferings--Capitulation of the

City--Enslavement of the Population--Duplicity of the Spanish

Sovereigns--War with Al-Zagal--Siege of Baza--Discontent of the

Christian Soldiery--Energy and Firmness of the Queen--Embassy

from the Sultan--Baza surrenders--Al-Zagal relinquishes

His Crown--War with Boabdil--The Last Campaign--Blockade

of Granada--Distress of Its Inhabitants--Submission of the

Capital--Fate of Boabdil--Isabella the Inspiring Genius of the

Conquest.

The relentless policy of the Spanish sovereigns, which, in addition

to the resources of honorable warfare, adopted without reserve every

crafty expedient to weaken the power of their adversaries, pursued

its end with unflagging perseverance and indomitable energy. The

paramount value of the old Roman maxim, “Divide et impera,” which had

been the corner-stone of the great political fabric that dominated

the ancient world, had long been fully recognized by the Christian

sovereigns of the Peninsula. The animosity of the Moslem factions that

so frequently, in the settlement of their sanguinary disputes, summoned

from the Desert great hordes of Mauritanian barbarians, first afforded

to the struggling Castilian monarchy an example whose teachings it

was not slow to appreciate and to follow. From the earliest times,

its surreptitious aid to or its open alliance with the weaker party

had fomented and encouraged the feuds of the Spanish Arabs. It was

this incessant interference which, countenancing the aspirations of

bold and unprincipled adventurers and in direct contravention of the

principles of national amity, kept every Moslem court in a state of

continued apprehension and turmoil. Even the frequent seditions, the

general disorganization consequent upon the encroachments of powerful

nobles and the protracted minority of infant kings, while they somewhat

diminished by no means abrogated this useful and effective method

of conquering an enemy by the promotion of internecine strife. The

pre-eminent valor of the Castilian chivalry can never be disputed. But,

as important a factor as it was in the military affairs of Europe,

the part it played in the Conquest of Granada was a subordinate

one. The destruction of Moslem power was mainly effected by the

machinations of political intrigue, and to this end the deplorable

state of a society where an absolute want of moral principle was

disclosed by the perpetration of the most atrocious crimes largely

contributed. The popularity of the khalifs and the emirs was always

superficial, and often only nominal. Their superior dignity both

as sovereigns and legatees of the holy office of Mohammed exalted

them far above the most eminent of their subjects. With the masses,

whom they seldom condescended to notice, they could have nothing in

common. Their empire, obtained by conquest, was ruled by despotism and

preserved by force. The incalculable benefits conferred by their wise

and enlightened administration were never appreciated by those who

enjoyed them. The savage ferocity of the Bedouin, transmitted through

countless generations, dominated every other impulse. It exercised

its baleful influence in the gorgeous palace of the sovereign, in

the busy haunts of commerce, in the hut of the stolid and irascible

peasant, even in the temple where were publicly inculcated the

obligations of forgiveness and peace. The prospect of boundless empire,

the advantages of a lucrative trade, the acquisition of enormous

wealth, the prosecution of philosophical studies, the remembrance of

great achievements, the conscious pride of mental superiority, the

omnipresent tokens of a magnificent civilization, could never erase

from the Arab mind the traditions of hereditary prejudice or fuse into

an harmonious whole the discordant elements of the Arab character.

There is nothing more pathetic in human annals than the destruction

of a nation whose works have for ages contributed to the welfare

and happiness of mankind, whose discoveries in every department of

knowledge have called forth the applause of the learned and elicited

the grateful acknowledgment of subsequent generations, and which,

consumed by the unquenchable fire of internal discord, has squandered

in civil war the talents and the resources which, properly applied,

might have for centuries maintained its greatness and perpetuated its

power. The fall of the Moslem empire in Europe is a striking example

of the inexorable law of human destiny. Had the Moslems not succumbed

to the encroachments of Castilian conquest, their eternal dissensions

must have eventually invited the interference of some other aggressor.

Commercial prosperity, which, while encouraging selfishness and luxury,

degrades in the eyes of an effeminate and cowardly population the

profession of arms, had sapped the vitality of the kingdom of Granada.

Its bravest defenders were not natives of the soil, but mercenaries

from Africa. Partisan frenzy which hesitated at no excesses had

usurped the rights and supplanted the sentiments of patriotism. The

most flagrant depravity permeated every class of society. The beauties

of a terrestrial paradise were polluted by scenes which proclaimed the

shocking degradation of mankind; by crimes which cannot be conceived

without dismay; by vices which cannot be mentioned without shame.

Thus infected with corruption, enfeebled by treason, its treasures

dissipated by civil war, its blood lavishly shed in the suicidal strife

of its factions, with one party in open alliance with the enemy of its

race and its creed, no nation could long preserve its integrity or its

existence.

In accordance with the concerted plan of the Spanish court, which

contemplated the prosecution of hostilities interrupted only by the

inclemency of the seasons, it was determined to again attempt the

conquest of Loja. A force of fifty-two thousand men was considered

necessary to carry this enterprise to a successful termination. The

memory of former disaster suggested the expediency of the most ample

and thorough preparation. It was decided to establish, in the form of a

triangle, three different camps in the lines of circumvallation, each

of which, strongly fortified and independent of the others, should be

capable of resisting, if necessary, the entire power of the Moslem

armies. The uneven character of the ground, rendered more difficult of

access by the groves and houses with which it was covered, afforded

such opportunities for ambush and surprise that the reduction of the

city by the ordinary method of investment was considered impracticable.

In addition to this disadvantage, its proximity to Granada and its

consequent pre-eminent value as a bulwark of that city, rendered it

certain that an attempt would be made to relieve it. The military

organization was more complete than had been aimed at in any previous

campaign. Gradually, and with a tact which concealed its object while

perfecting its designs, the reins of discipline were tightened without

giving offence to the naturally proud and insubordinate spirit of the

Spanish soldiery. To convey the artillery and the supplies for the

camp, two thousand carts and seventy thousand beasts of burden were

assembled. The fame of the war and the reported wealth of the Moors

had by this time become familiar to Europe, and numerous adventurers

from other countries hastened to serve under the banners of Castile

and Aragon, in a cause which, promoted by liberal indulgences and

sanctified by the papal benediction, had been invested with the

character of a pious crusade. It was no unusual occurrence for the

chivalry of France to participate in the glory of Spanish campaigns;

in the wars of Don Pedro el Cruel, the English knights had obtained

an enviable reputation for valor and courtesy amidst a people whose

national distinction was the possession of these attributes in an

eminent degree; and now, inspired by the example of his countrymen,

the Earl of Rivers, connected by blood with Elizabeth of York, Queen

Consort of England, came to tender his services to the sovereigns of

Spain. Besides his esquires, three hundred archers and battle-axemen

followed in his train, sturdy yeomen armed with those weapons which,

almost unknown in the wars of the Peninsula, were wielded by the

strangers with matchless dexterity and strength.

The reported advance of the Spanish army on Loja was received by

the feeble and unprincipled Boabdil with feelings of undisguised

consternation. His prudence, which at times bordered upon abject

cowardice, prompted him to abandon the city to its fate. While motives

of policy, dictated by fears inspired by the threats of an offended

suzerain, impelled him to adopt a pusillanimous inaction, the menacing

clamors of the people, refusing to witness unmoved the sacrifice of

a frontier fortress of such importance, admonished him that if he

neglected to heed their remonstrances his crown might be endangered.

Therefore, without further delay, he called together forty-five hundred

well-armed troops, and entered Loja a short time before the arrival

of the Christian vanguard. The approach of the latter was the signal

for a sortie from the city. A bloody skirmish took place in one of

the suburbs near the scene of the former Christian discomfiture,

but the Moors were repulsed with loss; and Boabdil, who had greatly

distinguished himself by his reckless bravery, received two painful

wounds, which for the time disabled him.

As the investment proceeded, the incessant activity of the besieged

made it necessary to adopt the greatest vigilance in protecting the

camps. As soon as they had been thoroughly fortified the suburbs were

stormed, an undertaking of much difficulty, and only accomplished

after the loss of many lives. In these contests the brawny arm of

Hamet-al-Zegri, who had come from Malaga, and, with his ferocious

troopers, appeared in the thickest of the fight, was eminently

conspicuous. The lombards, brought within easy range of the walls, soon

opened a breach, through which the impetuous soldiery made their way.

In the streets barricades impeded their advance; and the Moors, in the

exertion of desperate but unavailing efforts, casting aside all other

weapons, defended the passage with their daggers. For eight hours,

without cessation, the battle went on. The ground, won foot by foot,

was covered with corpses and slippery with blood. In no engagement of

the war was an attack met with more determined obstinacy. The Earl

of Rivers, who sustained with distinguished gallantry the reputation

of the English name, was wounded in the mouth, and escaped death by

a miracle. The path of the storming column was marked by the bodies

of his archers who had fallen in the ranks, and who, on that fiercely

contested field, surpassed in serene and inflexible courage even

the glorious prowess of the famous chivalry of Spain. At length the

garrison and the surviving inhabitants were driven into the citadel.

Its area was so circumscribed that all available space was densely

packed with a mass of struggling, shrieking humanity. The terrible

lombards were drawn forward and trained upon the fortress. At the

first discharge a tower where a large number of men and women had

taken refuge was shattered and fell, burying hundreds in its ruins.

In addition to the havoc made by the artillery, arrows, to which were

attached flaming balls of tow steeped in naphtha, were shot into the

castle, bearing conflagration in their wake, and consuming buildings

into which, for greater security, the sick and wounded had been

carried. The helpless citizens, thus exposed to inevitable death,

now clamored for surrender; but even the desperate condition which

confronted him failed to move the timorous and irresolute Boabdil, who

was justly apprehensive of the wrath of the Spanish King. The situation

soon became so critical, however, that the Moslem prince was compelled

to make overtures for capitulation, which were received with greater

indulgence than he had reason to expect; and, after an humble apology,

he was permitted to retire in safety from the city he had defended

with such heroic but fruitless valor. The people of Loja were granted

the privilege of retaining their personal property on condition of

abandoning their homes, and the roads leading to Granada and Malaga

were soon crowded with weeping exiles, whose lamentations and distress

affected even the iron hearts of the Spanish soldiery, hardened by

repeated scenes of suffering and blood.

Illora and Moclin soon shared the fate of Loja. Their vicinity to

Granada, affording the greatest facilities for reinforcement and

relief, the vital importance of their possession, located, as they

were, almost at the gates of the capital, and practically controlling

its approaches, their stupendous defences, especially those of Moclin,

which almost rivalled in strength the walls and towers of Ronda, did

not prevent Boabdil from basely abandoning these keys of the Vega to

the Christian enemy. In vain were messengers repeatedly despatched to

implore the help of their countrymen. The King, a prey to conflicting

emotions, hesitating between fear of the Spaniards and apprehension

of domestic violence, remained insensible to the appeals of his

beleaguered subjects, who, resisting the besiegers with every resource

within their power, cursed the destiny that had placed them in the

hands of such an unworthy sovereign. During the siege of Moclin, a

tower containing the magazine was blown up by a fire-arrow, and the

surrender was precipitated by this casualty, which not only killed

many soldiers, but deprived the survivors of an indispensable means

of defence. The campaign was concluded by the voluntary submission of

Montefrio and Colomera, and by a foray through the Vega marked by the

pitiless devastation that always accompanied these expeditions.

The series of disasters which continued to afflict the Moslem cause,

and to suggest the imminence of the final catastrophe in which

everything would be lost, began, when too late, to arouse public

feeling against Boabdil, who, blind to the dangers that menaced him,

saw from his palace his nominal allies storming his cities and wasting

his territory with fire and sword. Especially violent was the fury

of Al-Zagal, who, realizing that nothing short of the death of his

nephew could mitigate the evils that harassed the kingdom, adopted

every expedient to accomplish that object. His emissaries sought

opportunities to stab or poison Boabdil, but in vain. Foiled in his

attempts, the fierce old veteran wreaked his vengeance without pity

on all the principal adherents of the adverse faction who fell into

his hands. His machinations in the absence of Boabdil, who remained

at Velez el Blanco under treatment for the wounds he had received at

Loja, so increased the public discontent at Granada that the authority

of the absent King was in danger of being undermined in his own

stronghold, the Albaycin. To counteract these intrigues, Boabdil one

night suddenly appeared before a gate of that riotous quarter of the

city. His arrival was the signal for the renewal of the fratricidal

strife which had already decimated the ranks of the Moorish nobles,

and sacrificed to the rancor of partisan hostility the bravest youths

of the kingdom. National misfortunes, the subject of mutual accusation

and reproach, had intensified the hatred of both factions; the war now

became one of extermination; quarter was neither asked nor expected;

the wounded were killed as they lay, and every prisoner was despatched

without mercy. From the streets, reeking like a shambles with the

horrible butchery, the conflict was transferred to the Vega. Entire

days were consumed in these scenes of horror, until the combatants,

exhausted by their efforts, but not satiated with bloodshed, retired

to their quarters to recuperate their failing strength. In all these

encounters the adherents of Al-Zagal had the advantage, but the crafty

old King, desirous of sparing his soldiers, determined to reduce his

enemy by siege. A strong intrenchment was drawn around the Albaycin,

and the inhabitants, whose allegiance to their sovereign had already

been shaken by the apathy he evinced during the public distress,

in addition to the evils of warfare, were now threatened with the

sufferings of famine. The general disaffection, no longer concealed,

threatened the sacrifice of an obnoxious ruler to the public peace,

when Boabdil anticipated this treasonable intention by an act which has

condemned his name to everlasting disgrace. The aid of the Christians

was invoked to sustain his tottering throne; and Don Fadrique de

Toledo, governor of the frontier, advanced without delay, at the head

of a considerable force, to maintain the pretensions of the nominal

ally, but actual dupe, of the astute and unprincipled Ferdinand. The

instructions given to all the Spanish commanders forbade the weakening

of either faction to such an extent as to endanger the equilibrium

of the balance of power, which, carefully maintained during the

ruthless struggle, must eventually prove fatal to both parties and

result in the complete disintegration of the monarchy. Don Fadrique

therefore amused each prince in turn with the prospect of negotiation

and alliance, alarming both and assisting neither, until their mutual

exasperation was again excited to the verge of frenzy, when he quietly

withdrew. But the enthusiasm of Boabdil’s partisans, largely feigned

and artificial, vanished with the departure of the Spaniards. The

merchants and artificers of the Albaycin were weary of the ruinous

interruption of their trade, and the majority of the inhabitants of

that quarter of the city, long the scene of insurrection and bloodshed,

began to turn towards Al-Zagal in the hope of security and peace. The

tidings of this revulsion of feeling alarmed the scheming diplomats of

the Spanish court, and measures were at once taken to counteract it.

Martin Alarcon, Governor of Moclin, and Gonsalvo de Cordova, Governor

of Illora,--afterwards famous as the Great Captain, and now fast

rising to distinction among the Castilian commanders,--both eminent

for tactical genius and intrepidity, were secretly admitted with a

body of picked men into the Albaycin. The gold with which they were

abundantly provided proved more attractive to the mercenary populace

of Granada than loyalty to king or love of country. Multitudes

hastened to enlist; a few hours were sufficient to collect a force

respectable in numbers, if not in character and discipline; and the

discouraged Boabdil, with the appearance of prosperous fortune secured

at the expense of national honor and personal integrity, was again

able to indulge the hope of gratifying his furious and insatiable

thirst for vengeance and of maintaining the precarious existence of

his ephemeral power. The introduction of armed Christians within the

walls of the Moorish capital was, of itself, to many reflecting Moslems

a most inauspicious omen. But when to this was added the dishonorable

reason for their presence, the fact that the hereditary sovereign of

the Alhamares had implored against his own countrymen the support

of enemies, who, for seven hundred years, had pursued his race with

all the rancor of theological hatred and national hostility, and was

employing the gold donated by the Christian infidel to secure the

doubtful allegiance of men who, degraded by every abject vice, were

equally insensible to the influence of personal merit or patriotic

principle, the portent became still darker and more menacing. The

degradation of the contemptible Boabdil was now complete. Nothing

of which he might hereafter be guilty could add to the overwhelming

measure of his infamy. He had already sacrificed the welfare of his

country to retain a kingdom which he had neither the capacity to govern

nor the resolution to defend. He was now putting his subjects up at

auction, and tempting them to assist in their own enslavement by the

acceptance of money furnished by foes who aspired to become their

masters. Supine in every emergency requiring action, he only displayed

energy in furthering the designs of those who struck at the independent

existence of his people, the permanence of his dynasty, and the

retention of his crown.

It was not characteristic of Al-Zagal to witness unmoved the

treacherous introduction of enemies into the heart of his capital.

Strong detachments were summoned from Baza and Guadix, sharp-shooters

were stationed on the roofs of houses within range of the Alcazaba,

the streets were obstructed by barricades, and all attempts of the

Spaniards to penetrate into the city having been repulsed, the scene

of hostilities was transferred to the suburbs, where, for two months,

with varying success, the two factions indulged to satiety their thirst

for blood, expended in daily encounters the strength which, judiciously

applied, would have repelled the common enemy, and prosecuted, to the

exultant satisfaction of the Christians, the war of extermination,

which insured to the latter the ultimate triumph of their power. It

was in vain that the citizens most eminent for wealth and position,

appalled by the enormities they were daily compelled to witness,

endeavored to stem the tide of slaughter and anarchy. Some of these

were impelled by sincerely patriotic sentiments, others by simulated

indignation assumed to gratify the sordid motives of personal ambition

and private interest. Among the latter were many santons, or ascetics,

who, in addition to the reverence attached to their calling, exercised

among the populace the pernicious influence of the demagogue. In this

class the emissaries of Ferdinand found most ardent and efficient

supporters, who greedily accepted the gold which was to be the price

of their treason. No greater proof of national decadence can exist

than that thus exhibited by the corruption of spiritual guides who

have voluntarily assumed the vow of poverty, and yet are willing to

barter for the bribes of an enemy the peace and honor of their country

and the maintenance of its religious faith. Those partisans of Boabdil

who amidst the general distress had been fortunate enough to preserve

intact a portion of their possessions were induced to remain steadfast

in their allegiance by fallacious promises of exclusive commercial

privileges with the Christian kingdoms of the Peninsula, promises

which were conveniently forgotten when the time arrived for their

fulfilment. To further confirm the timid in their adherence to an

unpopular and unpatriotic cause, the severest penalties were denounced

against all who wavered in their allegiance to Boabdil, or in any way

assisted the opposite faction, which was not only secretly regarded by

the Christians themselves as the exponent of Moorish nationality, but

was recognized by the better class of the population of the kingdom

as representative of the remaining dignity of the Alhamares and the

rallying point of the Moslem power. Having expended their treasure and

secured the continuance of the suicidal strife so necessary to the

successful realization of the designs of their sovereign, the Spaniards

retired from Granada.

The attention of the Moors having been thus distracted from the

operations of Ferdinand by their frenzied efforts at mutual

destruction, the Christian army, assembled at Archidona, took up its

march for the South with a view to the conquest of Velez. This city,

situated on the mountain slope within a quarter of a mile of the sea,

possessed the advantages of commanding the roads to Granada and the

coast, and was considered the key of Malaga. Fortified with great

strength, and inaccessible to heavy artillery on account of the rugged

nature of the country, it had long been celebrated as the head-quarters

of the most audacious and savage troopers who visited with their

desolating presence the fertile plains of Andalusia. In addition to

its walls and its citadel,--one of the strongest in the kingdom,--its

suburbs, which were of great extent, were protected by extensive works

and by ditches impassable by cavalry. A league away, on the very

summit of the mountain, was Bentomiz, a fortress whose proximity might

prove dangerous to a besieging army, and whose approaches were so

difficult as almost to defy attack.

The arrival of the Spaniards was followed by a skirmish, where the

King, exposed to great danger, behaved with his habitual intrepidity,

and by his heroic example saved his followers from defeat. The next

day, six hours of constant fighting were required to dislodge the Moors

from the suburbs, where a sharp hand-to-hand contest was maintained

as far as the walls of the city. Every effort was now exerted to

hasten the advance of the siege-train. The progress of the latter was

exceedingly slow. It was found necessary to construct roads for its

passage through a region hitherto traversed only by steep and dangerous

paths. Only the smaller pieces could be transported at all, and the

lombards, whose effectiveness had been felt in every previous campaign,

were left at Antequera. But three miles a day could be accomplished

owing to these obstacles, to which was added the danger of surprise

from the enemy, who was constantly hovering above on the sierras, and

whose chain of fires at night illumined the horizon for many a league.

The uncertainty of the event, the perils with which he was surrounded,

and the caution born of costly experience, impressed upon Ferdinand

the necessity of maintaining a rigorous discipline. The freebooting

character of the Spanish levies, accustomed for generations to the

uncontrolled exercise of military license, rendered the enforcement of

such a measure an undertaking of extreme difficulty. But the iron will

of the King, supported by the co-operation of his principal commanders,

proved equal to the task. Drunkenness, gambling, and fighting were

severely punished. No one was permitted to engage the enemy without

authority from his superior. Rapine and incendiarism were sternly

repressed. Vicious persons of both sexes were expelled from the lines.

The adoption of these regulations, enforced by the summary execution of

a few offenders, effected a remarkable transformation in the manners of

the soldiery, and quiet and order began to reign in the camp, which,

but a short time before, had been the scene of riot, insubordination,

and boisterous revelry. Such a sudden and complete metamorphosis

was without parallel in the history of European armies. The severe

discipline established by Ferdinand before Velez laid the foundation

of the celebrity for steadiness in battle subsequently attained by the

armies of Spain. The efforts of Gonsalvo de Cordova and his illustrious

comrades and successors in perfecting the system inaugurated by their

sovereign, maintained and improved that high state of efficiency

which carried the arms of Castile and Aragon over two worlds in an

uninterrupted career of victory and conquest.

In the mean time, while the loss of the southern portion of the

kingdom was imminent, the murderous hostility of the contending

parties in Granada continued unabated. Anarchy, in its most dreadful

form, prevailed throughout the entire capital. The streets, the scene

of daily encounters, were strewn with the dead. In every home were

the signs of conflict, in every household the melancholy evidences

of bereavement and distress. All trade was at an end. The city was

a prey to outlaws. Reputation for the ownership of gold and jewels

was equivalent to a sentence of death. The ruffian soldiery, cruel,

sensual, and rapacious, intruded unchallenged into the private

apartments of the most noble families of the kingdom. Even the retired

precincts of the harem, sacred and inviolate in the eyes of every

sincere believer, were not respected. Female virtue was sacrificed to

the licentious passions of those whose first duty was to defend it.

Every dwelling that promised a rich return was plundered. In these

deeds of rapine and bloodshed the partisans of the mean-spirited

Boabdil were disgracefully conspicuous. To such extremes of ignominy

was that prince driven to earn the support and approbation of

perfidious allies, only to eventually merit the contempt and abhorrence

of posterity.

The pugnacious instincts of Al-Zagal were aroused by the new invasion

of his enemies which menaced his supremacy on the coast. But scarcely

able to maintain his ground against his nephew in the Albaycin, he

was in no condition to successfully contend with the numerous and

well-appointed squadrons of Castile. He was justly fearful that his

absence would be immediately followed by the triumph of his adversary

and his permanent exclusion from the capital; in his perplexity he

made overtures for peace. His patriotic suggestion that all Moslems

should unite and expel the enemy from their borders was rejected with

scorn by Boabdil, who insulted with opprobrious epithets the age and

dignity of his uncle, and, recounting in detail the attempts to murder

him, declared that his desire was not for reconciliation but for

vengeance. Apprehensive of misfortune, yet unable longer to withstand

the importunity of his counsellors, who realized the disastrous

consequences which must ensue from the fall of Velez, and confident

that his success would insure the ruin of his rival, whose authority

was more dependent on the pecuniary aid of the Christians than on

the attachment of his adherents, Al-Zagal summoned all the troops at

his disposal, and, leaving the city secretly, prepared to surprise

the Spaniards in their intrenchments. His army, though formidable in

numbers, was far from being equal in efficiency and prowess to those

he had formerly led to victory. His bravest followers, the flower

of the chivalry of Granada, and the fierce horsemen of the Desert,

whose impetuosity and prowess had so often prevailed over the seasoned

veterans of Castile, had fallen in the bloody encounters provoked by

the treason and the enmity of Boabdil or had perished by the hand of

the assassin. His partisans, with the exception of a few detachments

drawn from the district still faithful to his cause, were composed

of raw levies, most of them mere boys, unaccustomed to discipline,

and unfamiliar with military evolutions and the practice of warfare

except as they had been learned in the melancholy school of civil

discord and in the sanguinary riots which daily polluted with the

blood of unarmed citizens the streets of the Moorish capital. Such

were the inadequate means with which Al-Zagal was about to confront

the most thoroughly organized and equipped force which had ever

served under the banners of the Spanish monarchy. Immense bonfires on

the mountain peaks announced to the Christians the approach of the

enemy. A reconnoissance soon revealed his identity. The capture of

a scout to whom the plan of a midnight attack had been imprudently

intrusted enabled Ferdinand to defeat the project of his adversary.

The designs of Al-Zagal, though conceived with his usual sagacity,

were not executed with the vigor and caution which had previously

characterized his operations. Traitors in the pay of the Spaniards

lurked in his camp, and his intended movements were hardly planned

before they were communicated to the enemy. It was the intention of

the Moorish king to destroy the siege-train, which, loaded on fifteen

hundred carts, had at last been brought with infinite toil to a spot

two miles from Velez. Isolated from the main body of the army, with

its guard unsuspicious of danger, a nocturnal surprise would probably

have insured its destruction, and, as an inevitable consequence,

have compelled the retirement of the besiegers. The scout who had

been taken was on his way to Velez to detail the plan and obtain the

co-operation of the garrison at the signal of an immense fire to be

kindled on the highest peak of the sierra. At the appointed hour the

beacon blazed forth against the sky, and the Moslem battalions moved

silently forward. As soon as they were fairly involved in the labyrinth

of lanes and shaded avenues traversing the suburbs, they were assailed

on all sides by overwhelming numbers of the enemy lying in ambush. The

suddenness of the attack precipitated a panic. The darkness prevented

organized defence, retreat was intercepted, and the Moors were exposed

for hours to the deadly fire of foes who fought in comparative security

under the shelter of trees and hedges. The cries of the combatants

filled the air; the repeated flashes of musketry lighted up the field,

revealing the heaps of the dead and dying; the desperate charges of

the Moors failed to pierce the lines of the Christians,--indeed they

were hardly able in the dense obscurity of an unfamiliar locality

to even determine their position; and the contest begun under such

disadvantageous conditions for those who had themselves planned a

surprise terminated in a massacre. The din of battle reached the city,

and the garrison attempted a sortie. The prudence of Ferdinand had

anticipated this movement, however, and the Moors, advancing to the

relief of their countrymen, were driven back into their fortifications.

The first light of dawn fell upon the broken remnant of the Moslem

army, which, to the number of more than twenty thousand, had the

evening before covered the sierra, and whose soldiers, magnified by

the uncertain light of myriads of fires into gigantic spectres, seemed

to threaten with annihilation the Spaniards encamped in the valleys

far below. Those who survived were scattered everywhere through the

mountains, and so complete was their dispersion that the Christians

could not realize at first the extent and importance of their victory,

nor was it until the discovery of countless weapons abandoned in the

hurry of flight and the reports of scouts who had seen the crowds of

fugitives had reassured them, that they ventured to relax the unusual

vigilance assumed through apprehension of a ruse, or were convinced

that a host of well-armed warriors could vanish thus like mist before

the rising sun. This overwhelming rout practically decided the fate of

the kingdom of Granada. It invested with new and extraordinary prestige

the reputation of the Spanish sovereigns. The influence of Boabdil, the

discredited hireling and tool of the Castilian court, had long ceased

to be formidable. The power of Al-Zagal as a disturbing factor in the

hopeless struggle for national existence was forever destroyed. The old

monarch, after his defeat, fled to Almuñecar. While journeying from

there to Granada, he learned that the mob of that city had risen and

declared for his nephew, who was then in possession of the Alhambra,

and that such of his own partisans as had not been able to escape had

been decapitated without ceremony. Accompanied by a slender escort, the

melancholy remnant of that valiant African guard which had participated

in the glory and plunder of so many campaigns, Al-Zagal betook himself

to Guadix, henceforth to be the capital and centre of his restricted

and enfeebled sovereignty.

The result of the battle was, in a double sense, unfavorable to the

people of Velez, cooped up within the walls of the doomed city. They

had seen their hopes of deliverance dashed to pieces in an instant. On

one side could be discerned parties of the enemy collecting the weapons

cast away by their kinsmen in their nocturnal flight. On the other,

saluted by the cheers of thousands, the long train of heavy carts

bearing the artillery against which recent experience had demonstrated

the strongest defences were of no avail came in view, guarded by

a numerous body of cavalry, winding through the mountains for a

distance of many leagues. Not until the ordnance was in sight would

the inhabitants of Velez credit that the successful transportation of

such ponderous masses of iron through the mountains was possible. It

was their first experience of invasion. Their warriors had repeatedly

carried fire and sword into the territory of the enemy. Their streets

had been frequently obstructed with the spoil of the border foray.

Their dungeons were even then crowded with Christian captives. The

fair complexions of the children in the harems indicated the offspring

of many a Sabine wedding. But never, during the long centuries of the

Reconquest, had a hostile force been marshalled before their gates, and

rarely had the hated banner of the infidel been seen from the summits

of their towers. Dispirited by the prospect, absolutely destitute of

hope, aware that a stubborn resistance would only render the terms of

capitulation more severe, unable alone to cope with a veteran army of

seventy thousand men, abundantly provided with every improved appliance

known to the science of the age, subject to the strictest discipline

and fighting under the eye of its sovereign, the people of Velez,

before the batteries had been planted, despatched envoys to negotiate

for surrender. Every consideration consistent with the usages of war

was shown to the Moors by the politic Spaniards, who desired, by this

example of leniency, to provide in the future for the easy prosecution

of other conquests. Secure in the possession of their liberty and their

personal effects, the Moslems of Velez were permitted to seek homes in

Africa or to become the tributary subjects of the crown, on condition

of not bearing arms or holding communication with their countrymen

at war with the Spanish monarchy. The practice of their religious

rites, the use of their language, and the unmolested enjoyment of their

customs were solemnly assumed, an obligation which, like many similar

ones, eventually vanished before the ingenious casuistry of the Holy

Office. Before leaving the camp, the Catholic sovereigns issued an

order granting protection to the subjects of Boabdil, allowing them to

till their lands, to resume their mercantile pursuits, and to purchase

without hindrance in the Spanish kingdoms such commodities as they

might require. Proclamation was also made that all towns and cities

within the jurisdiction of Al-Zagal which should voluntarily surrender

within six months should receive the most ample privileges heretofore

conceded to any place that had tendered its submission, and threatening

all such as might prove recalcitrant with the direct consequences which

the savage customs of the time might either authorize or inflict.

And now the iron hand of Christian power, menacing, resistless,

inexorable, whose advance never slackened, whose grasp never relaxed,

extended itself towards the beautiful city of Malaga. Celebrated from

the highest antiquity for its picturesque surroundings, for its wealth,

for the attractions of its women, for the enterprise of its citizens,

for the unusual advantages conferred by its situation, which made it

the seat of an immense commerce, in the fifteenth century that city

divided with Almeria the lucrative trade of the Western Mediterranean.

The keen sagacity of the Phœnicians had early recognized its maritime

importance. Carthage inherited its dominion, and long maintained there

the agencies and the warehouses of her most opulent merchants. Under

the Romans it enjoyed the highest prosperity, but it was reserved for

the Spanish Arabs to develop to the utmost the mineral and agricultural

wealth of its territory, and to extend the commerce of Malaga to the

most remote and inaccessible countries of the Orient, to every port

whose location or communications promised a profitable return. Its

defences were of the strength demanded by the interests of a great

international emporium. Walls of extraordinary height and thickness

encompassed the entire circuit of the city. Within this line of

circumvallation the different quarters and suburbs, in accordance with

Moorish custom, were themselves strongly fortified. One of these was

inhabited by the Jews, who, always enjoying unusual privileges under

the Moslems, had prospered in the congenial atmosphere of Malaga, which

fostered their trading instincts and aspirations until their colony

had become in number, in wealth, and in distinction second to none

of similar character in Europe. The tolerant and enlightened policy

of the Moors had assigned to the enterprising Genoese another suburb

which was designated by their name. The extensive and varied commercial

relations of that republic were thus intimately connected with those

of the principal seaport of Granada. Through its portals constantly

passed a vast and growing traffic, which bartered the commodities of

every country for the silks, the weapons, the jewelry, the gilded

pottery, and the delicious fruits of Spain. The great factories of

the merchants of the Adriatic, who at that time possessed the larger

share of the carrying trade of the world, lined the crowded quays

of Malaga, and their flag was always the most conspicuous among the

ensigns of the maritime nations whose vessels rode at anchor in the

bay. In their private life the Genoese residents of Malaga exhibited

a sybaritic luxury which might vie in pomp and elegance with that of

royalty itself. Their palaces were of great extent and of surpassing

magnificence. Buried in groves of odoriferous trees, brightened

by beds of gorgeous flowers, cooled by innumerable rivulets and

fountains, they combined all the ingenious devices of the Moorish

landscape-gardener with the taste and symmetry of classic Italy. The

most exquisite creations of the Arab artificer in tiles and stucco, in

gold and silver, in porcelain and in embroidered tapestry, decorated

their apartments. Retinues of swarthy, turbaned slaves obsequiously

waited to do the bidding of their masters. Mysterious eunuchs glided

silently through the splendid halls. Long familiarity with the customs

of their voluptuous and infidel neighbors had erased the memory and

the reverence associated with the country of their birth, so closely

connected with the Holy See, to such an extent that their disregard of

ancient traditions and their laxity of faith might not unjustly merit

the imputation of heresy. In the homes of many were lovely concubines,

some the spoil of marauding expeditions on the Andalusian border,

others purchased by their fastidious masters in the distant markets of

Africa and the East.

The Atarazana, a great dock-yard and arsenal provided with every

facility for the construction and repair of shipping, occupied one side

of the harbor. Its portals of polished marble and jasper were formed by

horseshoe arches of an elegance that rather suggested the tranquillity

of a sacred shrine than the noise and bustle inseparable from an

edifice devoted to the purposes of trade and war. Embracing an area of

more than eighteen thousand square feet, it was one of the most notable

constructions of the kind in the world. While no ships were actually

built within its precincts,--these works being carried on at the

adjacent mole and quays,--it contained, nevertheless, all the material

and equipment necessary for the completion of every kind of craft.

Immense quantities of naval supplies and munitions of war were stored

in its ample magazines. It was approached by many gates on the sides

towards the city and the sea, but the massive wall which protected

its western exterior disclosed no opening which might tempt the attack

of an alert and daring enemy. The government of the Atarazana was

committed to an officer of high rank, whose post was one of great

responsibility, as a large portion of the city was at the mercy of its

garrison. For the benefit of the thousands of workmen employed there a

mosque was provided, from whose minaret, at the hours designated by the

Moslem ritual, the muezzin regularly called the faithful to prayer.

The general aspect of the city was strikingly Oriental,--in the narrow

and tortuous streets, often covered by awnings to exclude the heat or

spanned by arches; in the sombre dwellings whose frowning walls were

occasionally broken by narrow, projecting lattices; in the bazaars,

each allotted to a special branch of commerce, where transactions

involving the expenditure of great sums were concluded in an apartment

scarcely exceeding the dimensions of a modern closet; in the mosques,

with their glittering minarets; in the baths, with their ever-moving,

ever-changing crowds; in the long strings of camels, each one tied

to the croup of his leader, laden with every variety of merchandise;

in the groups of richly apparelled ladies, escorted by female slaves

and scowling eunuchs; in the confusing babel of a thousand tongues,

was faithfully reproduced the picturesque life of Cairo, Bagdad, and

Damascus. Moorish Malaga was the most cosmopolitan of cities. No

restrictions were laid upon her trade, no vexatious or humiliating

conditions attached to a residence within her walls. She numbered among

her inhabitants natives of every clime. In her markets were exposed

for sale the products of the most widely separated countries of the

globe. In her port, after the occupation of Almeria, whose mercantile

supremacy was never restored, was centred the foreign commerce of

Mohammedan Spain. The merchants of Fez and Alexandria, of Bassora and

Teheran, mingled in her thoroughfares and markets with representatives

of every nation of Christian Europe. The intimate relations of

the city with Genoa had more than once called forth the indignant

protests of Castile to the Papal Court and the government of Italy.

The silk manufacture of Granada, the beauty and excellence of whose

stuffs modern skill has never been able to equal, owed its marvellous

development to the maritime facilities afforded by Malaga. The weaving

of this delicate product, furnished in incredible quantities by the

peasantry of the kingdom, was one of the most important branches of

industry pursued in the city. The great buildings where it was carried

on rivalled in extent the famous establishments of Almeria, once the

centre of the silk manufacture in Europe. The superior quality and

harmony of colors that characterized the tissues and brocades that came

from the hands of the Malagan artificers gave them a peculiar value,

and enabled them to readily command extravagant prices in foreign

markets.

Not for the fabrication of silks alone was Malaga famous. Her glass

and paper, her utensils of iron and copper, the complex and elegant

labors of her cabinet-makers and joiners, enjoyed a wide and deserved

celebrity. Here also were made the gilded pottery and the stamped and

enamelled leather, the knowledge of both which processes completely

disappeared with the dominion of the Spanish Arabs.

In the number and profusion of its agricultural products Malaga was

excelled by no city in the temperate zone. Its location, like that

of Granada, afforded every degree of temperature and every variety

of climate. But it possessed in this respect many advantages over

the capital. Lying further to the south its air was milder, and its

breezes were tempered by its proximity to the sea. The greater

volume of moisture in the atmosphere was more favorable to the

labors of the cultivator of the soil, and insured greater fertility.

Frost was unknown, and the sugar-cane and other exotics grew with a

luxuriance almost tropical. The adjacent hills were not then denuded

of vegetation, but covered with groves of olives, mulberries, and

chestnuts. The elaborate system of hydraulics perfected by the Moors

conducted everywhere the sparkling waters of the mountain streams.

There was no fruit or vegetable at that time known to horticulture that

was not grown in the vicinity. Ibn-Beithar, the most distinguished

botanist of the Middle Ages, and who may be said to have been largely

instrumental in the foundation of that science, was a native of the

city. His knowledge of plants, obtained by years of travel and study

in foreign lands, had enriched the flora of his country with many

additions useful for their culinary or medicinal properties. Modern

medicine owes much to Ibn-Beithar, who was also an eminent physician,

for his valuable contributions to the pharmacopœia.

During the Moslem domination the view of Malaga from any point was

most enchanting. From Velez to Fuengirola, a distance of more than

forty miles, the coast exhibited an unbroken series of fig plantations.

Farther back, covering the slopes of the sierra, were groves of

oranges and pomegranates. The vineyards were the most extensive, and

the grapes the most luscious, of Moorish Spain. Their vintage was of

superior excellence, and no small portion of it was consumed by those

whose religion condemned the use of wine as an unpardonable sin. The

belt of frowning gray walls which enclosed the city was relieved

by the palm-trees which at frequent intervals overtopped them. The

mountains in the rear were enveloped in a haze of mingled tints of

crimson, orange, and violet. On the southern horizon, the sapphire

blue of a sky without a cloud blended almost imperceptibly with the

deep ultramarine of the sea. Viewed at a distance, the white buildings

with their red roofs nestling in a wilderness of verdure whose foliage

displayed every tint of green, the harbor dotted with hundreds of

snowy sails, the numerous mosques with their elegant towers encrusted

with glittering tile-work, the palaces of the noble and the wealthy

decorated with all the caprices of Moorish architecture, and each

surrounded by spacious and shaded grounds, the boundless profusion of

limpid and refreshing waters, bearing fertility to every garden and

comfort to every household, the interminable plantations of every fruit

that contributes to the sustenance and enjoyment of man, all presented

a landscape whose counterpart probably did not exist in the most

favored regions of the habitable world. The walls, which enclosed an

area almost circular in form, were strengthened by a hundred and twelve

towers. Far above the city on an isolated promontory stood the fortress

of the Alcazaba, and the Gibralfaro, or citadel. The former was

constructed on the slope of the declivity, and, though of great extent

and massive defences, was still but an outwork of the Gibralfaro. The

position of the latter was such as to bid defiance to any military

engines or ordnance at the command of the captains of the fifteenth

century. The steep and rugged escarpment of the cliff below it made

successful assault impossible. It could not be mined. The angle at

which the artillery of a besieging army must be trained was such as to

render its fire ineffective. No means could therefore be successfully

employed to reduce its garrison except starvation. The water-supply was

obtained from numerous cisterns and from a remarkable well a hundred

and forty feet in depth. Subterranean passages hewn through the living

rock, whose existence was known to but few and which now survive

only in well-authenticated tradition, connected the Alcazaba and the

Gibralfaro with the city. These two castles were enclosed by walls of

unusual height and solidity. No stronghold in Europe during the Middle

Ages was better adapted to resist an enemy than the Gibralfaro,--its

difficulty of access, its intricate approaches, and the prodigious

strength of its fortifications rendering it practically impregnable.

The inhabitants of Malaga, notwithstanding their generally cosmopolitan

character, prided themselves upon the purity of their Arab blood. The

literary history of the time abounds in accounts of their intelligence,

their wit, and their attachment to science and letters. Their charity

and benevolence have been celebrated by every Moslem writer who has had

occasion to examine their characteristics or to describe their virtues.

The desperate and protracted defence they offered the army of Ferdinand

is convincing evidence of their bravery and patriotism. But, on the

other hand, they were impetuous to a fault, irascible, unrelenting,

and treacherous, ever ready to take offence, ever slow to forgive,

jealous to an extreme bordering on insanity, and anxious to settle

the most trivial dispute by an appeal to arms. Every vice familiar to

a prosperous and voluptuous community was practised at Malaga. The

drunkenness of its inhabitants was so common as to be proverbial, and

the fact that its occurrence aroused so little comment is indicative of

the popular indulgence with which a custom abhorrent to the rules of

the Koran was regarded. The integrity of the merchants was not beyond

suspicion; their reputation was better for shrewdness than for honesty;

and the remarkable cheapness of many of the commodities retailed by

peddlers is said to have been due to the fact that they were stolen

from the markets.

The capture of this great city was a matter of vital importance to

the Castilian cause. Not only was it of paramount necessity, but the

difficulties attending the project rendered it by no means certain of

a favorable termination. An enterprise of such magnitude had never

before been attempted by Ferdinand. The great population, its warlike

spirit, the facility with which supplies might be introduced by sea,

the enormous dimensions of the walls, were all important factors to be

considered before the siege was undertaken. On the other hand, there

were many conditions favorable to Christian success. Malaga was now

practically isolated. The exhausting effects of domestic strife, the

apathy and moral cowardice of Boabdil, the recent defeat of his uncle,

the depressing influence of the repeated forays which had swept the

Vega like a tempest, rendered hopeless any expectation of relief from

the territory still under Moorish control. The commercial pursuits

of the citizens for the most part rendered them averse to violence,

and ready to make almost any sacrifice for the sake of peace. It was

certain, however, that a stubborn resistance would be offered. The

commandant of the garrison and governor of the city was the intrepid

Hamet-al-Zegri, whose resolution and prowess were well known to

every soldier in the Spanish army. His troops were largely composed

of Gomeres and other African mercenaries, some of them survivors of

former campaigns, but the majority new recruits from Mauritania who

had succeeded in avoiding the cruisers of the blockading fleet. With

such antagonists it was preposterous to indulge the hope of an easy or

a bloodless victory. The extraordinary strength of the fortifications,

which had hitherto defied attack, imparted to the Moors a plausible but

fallacious confidence in their impregnability.

The Spaniards having broken camp at Velez, which was only eighteen

miles from Malaga, advanced to a point within two leagues of that city,

and the King, desirous of testing the disposition of his adversary,

sent an embassy to Hamet-al-Zegri offering advantageous terms of

capitulation. The Moslem general haughtily replied that the city had

been intrusted to him to defend and not to surrender, and dismissed

the royal messengers with scant courtesy. The vessels in which the

ordnance and camp equipage had been placed for greater facility

of transportation moved in a line parallel with the march of the

troops on shore, and, thus advancing with equal speed, both arrived

simultaneously at their destination. The approach of the enemy was

met with the usual energy of the Moorish commander. The garrison was

called to arms; detachments were sent out to occupy the neighboring

hills; the highway through which the Christians must pass was ambushed

by a force sufficient to impede their progress; and every house beyond

the defences, which, through its proximity to them, might furnish

shelter, was set on fire. On the side of Velez a path so narrow that

the soldiers were compelled to march in single file offered the sole

approach to the city; and, in its most rugged part, commanded by

eminences on either side, the Moors, with every advantage of numbers,

position, and familiarity with the ground, resolutely barred the way.

The Christians, ignorant of the difficulties of the march, had suffered

themselves to be entangled among the rocks and fairly surrounded before

they realized their peril. The contracted passage prevented those in

the rear from aiding their comrades; the elevated position of the

Moors, who, from the summit of the hills, were enabled to fight with

little danger to themselves and had the Christians at their mercy, gave

them such superiority that they threatened for a time to seriously

check the advance of the entire army. In another locality, below

the Gibralfaro, a battle was raging. An attempt to force the Moorish

lines and turn the flank of the detachment engaged below was fiercely

contested. In the words of the ancient chronicler, the Moslems “fought

so desperately that they seemed to have a greater desire to kill the

Christians than to save their own lives.” They neither offered nor

accepted quarter. The fate of such as fell into their hands was instant

death. For six hours, without intermission, the combatants, inflamed

with mutual hatred, discarding their missile weapons and relying on

their swords, contended with equal spirit and obstinacy,--the Moors

with the consciousness that their lives and liberties were at stake;

the Castilians, animated by fanatical zeal, and fighting in the

presence of their King. At length, after heavy losses, both positions

were stormed and taken. The enemy retired, the invading force pursued

its way without further molestation, and a thorough blockade of

the port was at once established. Malaga, surrounded by a strongly

intrenched line of circumvallation, and effectually deprived of all

hope of relief, now prepared to face the privations and calamities of a

protracted siege.

The permanent character of the blockading camps and the perfect

military organization of the Spaniards, marked features of the closing

operations of the Reconquest, became more and more conspicuous with

the advance of the Christian power. A deep ditch protected the

intrenchments, which were fortified by parapets and towers. The

soldiers were sheltered by huts. In the rear of the lines were large

workshops, where skilled mechanics repaired the cannon and the various

engines of war. A gunpowder factory, which gave employment to three

hundred men, was erected, and its dangerous product was stored for

security in adjacent caves. Hundreds of artisans cast the balls

destined for the ponderous lombards. There were twelve of these great

pieces, of fourteen-inch calibre, and more than twelve feet long, from

which were thrown projectiles weighing five hundred pounds. Such was

their clumsy construction that their muzzles could neither be elevated

nor depressed, and they could be discharged only eight times a day. A

ship-load of stone balls was transported from Algeziras, where they

had been fired from the ordnance of Alfonso XI. during the siege of

that city, one hundred and forty-three years before. The Spanish army,

composed of nearly seventy thousand men, was supported by numerous

vessels of every description, many of them armed with guns of medium

calibre. When the batteries were mounted, a terrible bombardment of the

city began by sea and land. The minarets, the domes, the houses, the

towers, crumbled under the incessant cannonade. The city was ablaze in

many places from fire-balls shot from the ballistas. The highways and

pleasure-grounds were strewed with the dying and the dead. Many of the

inhabitants were overwhelmed by the ruins of their fallen dwellings.

The martial splendor of the spectacle excited the admiration of the

chroniclers who witnessed it. They allude with unconcealed pride to the

picturesque beauty of the landscape, soon to be marred by the cruel

hand of war; to the formidable entrenchments guarded by many towers,

to the fleet encircling the capacious harbor, to the innumerable tents

covering the slopes of every hillside and following the winding lines

of circumvallation, to the magnificent silken standards displaying the

familiar arms of Castile and Leon, or emblazoned with the insignia

of the proudest houses of the kingdom. Behind all this pomp was an

unflinching energy, a confidence of ultimate success, which awed and

discouraged the besieged. The calm deliberation, denoting an absolute

tenacity of purpose, which characterized the first steps of the enemy

augured ill for the people of Malaga, now cut off from the world.

But, in many respects, they might well be hopeful of a favorable

result. Their means of resistance were the most formidable which the

Christians had yet encountered. Their citadel had been pronounced

by the most competent military engineers to be impregnable. Their

provisions were abundant, the munitions of war, stored in their

magazines and arsenals, inexhaustible. Their batteries were mounted

with cannon but little inferior in weight and equal in range to those

of the Spaniards; the artillerists who served them were among the most

skilful marksmen of the age. The garrison of the city was numerous

and well equipped; the governor, a veteran grown gray in a score

of wars. Every circumstance contributed to animate the Moors to a

desperate resistance. Should the invader be repelled, it would restore

the lost prestige of the Moorish name. Defeat meant the infliction

of every injury that could be devised by fanaticism and hatred. It

was well known in Malaga that the agents of the Inquisition, while

not yet officially recognized, were present with the army, and were

treated with marked distinction by the Spanish court. The duplicity

of Ferdinand, the blind bigotry of Isabella, although masked by

a plausible appearance of candor and equity, had not escaped the

observation of the keen-witted Moslems. A vague horror, intensified

by past misfortune and by the apprehension of future calamity and

associated with that awful tribunal whose atrocities were soon to

fill the land with mourning, pervaded every Mussulman community. The

possession of these advantages and the anticipation of future evils

were sufficient to stimulate the Malagans to the highest exertion

of courage and endurance. But unfortunately there existed among

them a party largely composed of wealthy merchants to whom every

patriotic consideration was subservient to the enjoyment of momentary

quiet and safety. It was headed by Ali Dordux, a citizen of immense

wealth, distinguished lineage, and unimpeachable integrity. Related

to the royal house of Granada, he enjoyed, from this connection, from

the consideration attaching to his great possessions, and from the

munificence and charity with which he contributed to public enterprises

and relieved private misfortune, the highest confidence and respect of

his countrymen.

Through his mediation, an attempt had already been made to deliver the

city to the Christians, and thereby escape the dreadful consequences

of a siege. The commander of the Alcazaba, Ibn-Comixa, had been a

party to this transaction, which, discountenanced in the beginning

by Hamet-al-Zegri, had afterwards been conducted with secrecy. These

proceedings having been communicated to Hamet by spies, he issued

from the Gibralfaro with his guards, and put to death the brother of

Ibn-Comixa and all others implicated with him in these treasonable

designs wherever they could be apprehended. Henceforth absolute master

of the city, the terror of his name and the fatal example of those

who had rashly endeavored to defy his authority, while they might

not entirely prevent, yet would probably render futile, any future

negotiations looking to a clandestine and unauthorized capitulation.

The investment of the city had not been accomplished without a constant

succession of skirmishes, in which, although the besiegers uniformly

had the advantage, they not infrequently sustained serious loss. The

Moorish artillerists kept up an incessant fire, and their aim was so

accurate that portions of the Christian line were forced back for

a distance of several hundred yards before it could be permanently

established. Especially were their efforts directed against the royal

pavilion, which occupied a conspicuous position, and the plunging balls

of the lombards passing in dangerous proximity made it necessary to

remove the quarters of the King. As the suburbs of Malaga covered an

extensive area, had formerly sheltered a numerous population, and were

protected by defences not inferior to those of the city itself, their

speedy occupation became a matter of great moment to Ferdinand. While

larger, they presented the same general characteristics as similar

localities in the neighborhood of other cities of Moorish Spain. An

uneven line of massive towers, walls, and barbicans crowned with

battlements; a labyrinth of tortuous lanes shaded by hedges of myrtle

and laurel; in one quarter the stately villas of the rich, in another

the crowded hovels of squalid poverty; orchards of fragrant tropical

fruits; pastures where hundreds of cattle might graze in security;

mysterious passages, obscured by overhanging vegetation, through

which a squadron could burst unseen and unexpected upon an unwary

outpost,--such were the features of the environs of Malaga. As much

injury had already been suffered from sallying parties which issued

from the depths of the dark and silent groves, it was determined that

this dangerous ground should be cleared and occupied without delay.

A tower of unusual dimensions defending the salient angle of the

largest of these enclosures, and which was seen to be the key of the

position, was designated as the point of attack. The command of the

Count of Cifuentes was selected for this perilous duty. The Castilians

rushing forward applied their scaling-ladders, but the enemy, fully

prepared, met them with a destructive fire, and, by means of bundles

of burning flax steeped in pitch and naphtha, destroyed the ladders

and many soldiers who had ventured to ascend them. Through successive

arrivals of reinforcements on both sides the engagement began to

assume the character of a battle, whose result for a time promised to

be indecisive; but after a day and a night of desperate fighting the

Christians prevailed, and the Moors, dislodged from the tower, took

up a position within the walls. Their cannon in turn now played upon

the tower, the upper portion of which was soon destroyed, and, having

succeeded in mining the foundations, it was blown up, carrying to death

several hundred Spaniards, whose valor in the face of imminent peril

had so recently effected its capture. This dearly purchased victory

was followed by the occupation of the larger suburb, but not until a

considerable force of infantry had been decoyed by Moorish cunning into

a maze of crooked lanes, where, bewildered by the surroundings and

encompassed by superior numbers, they were mercilessly slaughtered.

In the ground still retained by the Moslems the trees were cut down,

palisades strengthened by ditches were erected, and thus doubly

entrenched the attacks of the subtle and ferocious enemy kept the camp

of the besiegers in a condition of continual excitement and alarm. The

determined resistance with which the slow advance of the Christians

was encountered, causing every foot of territory won to be drenched

with blood, the dread of the pestilence, which had already appeared

in dangerous proximity to the camp, and the rumor, persistently

circulated, that the Queen was urging the abandonment of the siege,

began to produce great discontent throughout the Spanish ranks. Aware

of this feeling and prompt to take advantage of it, the Moors redoubled

their efforts. The guards and patrols were increased. Skirmishes became

more frequent and bloody. Boats armed with light pieces of artillery

were sent out at night to harass the vessels of the blockading fleet.

The garrison was organized into companies, to which was assigned in

turn the performance of regular duties of patrol, attack, relief; and

discipline was enforced among the usually insubordinate Moslems with

an impartiality and a rigor heretofore unknown. All communication

with the enemy was forbidden by proclamation, and the very mention of

surrender, even among the citizens, incurred the penalty of death. The

Moors relied, however, not so much upon their training and resolution

as upon the evils which, at all times and especially in that age, were

liable to hamper the tedious and laborious operations of a besieging

army. The rainy season was approaching, when the mountain streams,

swollen to the dimensions of torrents, swept away everything in their

course, and the sudden tempests rendered the harbor, always insecure,

almost untenable for shipping. The exposure of the camp was certain

to induce disease and might invite a visitation of the plague, while

the physical disadvantages incident to the situation would probably

be magnified by the fears and the discontent of a large body of men

subjected to daily inconvenience and condemned to inglorious inaction.

A reign of terror had been inaugurated in Malaga by the savage measures

adopted by Hamet-al-Zegri, who had executed without examination or

warning several prominent citizens whose former conduct had rendered

their loyalty suspicious, and, as a result of this severity, to all

outward appearances, the inhabitants were at last heartily united

in the public defence. An atmosphere of distrust and apprehension,

however, enveloped the community; no man dared to publicly address his

friend; the denunciation of a prominent personage to the authorities

was followed by his immediate execution; and the merchants, whose

wealth, influence, and pacific inclinations made them obnoxious to the

ferocious soldiery, exposed on the one side to the violence of the

garrison, menaced on the other by the prospect of enslavement and of

financial and domestic ruin, were driven by their forebodings into the

apathy of despair. In order to counteract the feeling of confidence

with which the false rumor of the Queen’s disapproval of the siege

inspired the enemy, a request was now made urging her to repair to the

camp.

The arrival of Isabella was marked by all the pomp of a royal

reception, and her presence at the post of danger brought to the

front many cavaliers not liable to military service, but actuated

by the chivalrous spirit so prominent in the Castilian, and who, in

this instance, combined the hope of military distinction with that

ardent devotion to the sex always regarded as one of the noblest and

most meritorious attributes of knighthood. The occasion seemed an

advantageous one for the renewal of negotiations, and fresh overtures

were made to the citizens of Malaga, but no reply was vouchsafed to

the messengers, and they returned without having obtained an audience

with the authorities. Foiled in this attempt and encouraged by the

counsels of the Queen, Ferdinand pushed the approaches with increased

energy. The entrenchments were moved into the suburbs, and often within

a stone’s throw of the walls. An attack was made upon the castle,

which resulted in the repulse and wounding of the Marquis of Cadiz.

Vessels were sent to Barcelona, Valencia, Lisbon, and Palermo for

powder. Hundreds of mechanics were employed in the construction of

military engines,--ladders like masts, raised on sliding platforms,

mangonels, battering-rams, movable towers, and mantelets. The wood

required for this purpose was obtained from the orchards and groves of

the vicinity. Mines were secretly opened at four different points, and

in each of these hundreds of men labored constantly day and night. The

appearance of the Queen, who was accompanied by the dignitaries and

ladies of the court, infused fresh courage into the faltering ranks

of the disheartened soldiery. The intrepid defence of the Moors had

exceeded the anticipation of the Spaniards, who, encouraged by the

remembrance of former triumphs, expected a rapid if sharply contested

conquest. Instead of this, after three weeks, each day of which was

marked by a series of sanguinary combats, no substantial progress

had been made. The trifling advantages gained had been purchased at

the expense of many lives; the success of the day was certain to be

counteracted by the repulse of the morrow; when a wall was demolished,

a new line was formed, composed of ditches and palisades, and defended

by troops whose tireless efforts and apparently exhaustless resources

seemed to bid defiance to every artifice of military experience and

engineering skill. The discouraging prospect of the campaign, and the

gradual spread of the pestilence in the neighborhood, caused numerous

desertions and much consequent demoralization. Some soldiers returned

to their homes; others, renouncing the further prosecution of an

enterprise which they considered impracticable, sought the insidious

friendship and uncertain rewards of the Moslems of Malaga. To insure

their welcome, they sedulously magnified the distress of the comrades

whom they had thus dishonorably abandoned,--alleging the shortness of

rations, the want of powder, the number of deserters, the universal

discontent which they declared even the exhortations and promises of

the King had failed to appease. The effect of these representations

soon became evident. The Moslems, encouraged to continue steadfast,

maintained the contest with renewed obstinacy, and the attention of the

Christians was occupied in guarding their lines, liable at any moment

of the day or night to be broken by an assault from some remote and

unexpected quarter. A cloud of smoke hung over the city and the camp,

lighted at frequent intervals by the flashes of the cannon whose dull

roar was occasionally followed by the crash of falling buildings,

the cheers of the artillerists, and the cries of the wounded. The

inflexible resolution and inspiring example of Hamet-al-Zegri, whose

heroism was so tarnished by remorseless cruelty, sustained the defence

of Malaga amidst the most frightful privation and suffering. The

difficulty of supporting a great multitude of non-combatants under

such circumstances increased day by day. All the provisions that

could be found were unceremoniously seized for the benefit of the

garrison. Whenever it was ascertained that some unfortunate citizen had

secreted food for the maintenance of his family, all of the inmates

of the house were at once put to the sword. The Jews, the especial

objects of official tyranny, were inhumanly and maliciously deprived

of the necessities of life, and the poorest and most helpless of this

persecuted race perished by hundreds of starvation. In the extremity

of famine the most loathsome and innutritious substances were eagerly

devoured. Not an animal of any kind was left alive in the city; and

many persons reared in abundance and luxury were forced to blunt the

pangs of hunger with the leather of saddles, the stalks of cabbage, and

the leaves of trees long since stripped of their fruit and blossoms.

Rendered desperate by distress and by the enforced military duty

for which they had been impressed by the governor, who took a grim

satisfaction in assigning to the most perilous stations those who had

least experience in the operations of war, a number of merchants,

including Ali Dordux, again opened communications with the enemy.

Their designs miscarried, for their messenger while returning from the

Spanish camp was intercepted by a patrol, and, in trying to escape,

fell pierced with a cross-bow bolt.

The extremity of their countrymen who so resolutely held their ground

against the united resources of Castile and Aragon excited the

compassion and applause of every patriotic Moslem in the kingdom.

There were many in the capital who would have gladly volunteered to

go to their assistance, but the known hostility of Boabdil repressed

the public exhibition of the general feeling. With the sanction of

Al-Zagal a band of picked warriors set out from Guadix to endeavor

to cut their way into Malaga. Information of the expedition was

communicated to Boabdil by spies, and an ambush was planned for the

party by a squadron of Moorish cavalry from Granada. The unfortunate

adventurers, unsuspicious of treachery, were surprised on the march,

and less than half of them succeeded in escaping to Guadix. For

this infamous service, so thoroughly in keeping with his character,

Boabdil received the congratulations of the politic Ferdinand, who

viewed with inward complacency the effects of the fatal policy of his

enemies who were unconsciously fighting his battles, and were destined

eventually to realize the futility of their efforts to maintain even

a tributary existence in the face of adversaries prepared to renounce

every consideration of honor and justice, to violate every covenant,

to repudiate every suggestion of humanity and pity, in the final

accomplishment of an object, pursued with unshaken tenacity, through

the vicissitudes, the triumphs, and the reverses of twenty-five

generations.

Despite the fact that famine threatened the garrison and was already

decimating the non-combatants, the Moors never relaxed their efforts.

Great trenches were excavated outside the walls at points where the

cannon had effected breaches. The mines opened by the besiegers had in

many instances reached the fortifications, when they were detected,

countermined, and rendered worthless. One of them was blown up and

destroyed after a bloody subterranean combat. This success was not

obtained without the greatest difficulty, and only after six days

of incessant fighting. Little by little every prospect of relief

was removed from the minds of the despairing garrison. The Emir of

Tlemcen, whose coast was constantly patrolled by armed galleys, and who

recognized the hopelessness of the struggle, sent an embassy to the

Catholic sovereigns, soliciting their friendship and imploring that the

commercial restrictions imposed upon his subjects by the maintenance

of the blockade might be removed. Magnificent presents of horses,

trappings, and garments, silks, gold, and perfumes accompanied his

request. The offer was graciously accepted; the naval commanders were

instructed to treat their new allies with due consideration; but at

the same time a vigilant watch was kept up to prevent any supplies of

men or provisions from being clandestinely introduced into the devoted

city. The sympathy of the Moslems throughout the kingdom, awakened by

the heroism of the Malagans, increasing with the duration of the siege,

found expression not only in lamentations, but in the execration of

Boabdil, whose agency was recognized as principally responsible for the

sufferings of his valiant countrymen.

In the mountains of Guadix there lived a certain Ibrahim-al-Guerbi,

a santon, or hermit of African origin, whose uncouth appearance,

emaciated form, and reputed sanctity had obtained for him the

superstitious veneration with which the ignorant are accustomed to

invest those whose lives are passed in localities apart from the abodes

of men, and whose extravagant claims to superior holiness are supposed

to be confirmed by habitual austerity and the frenzy born of incessant

meditation and long-continued abstinence. His progress through the

streets of Guadix was always attended by an immense multitude of

admirers, who, regarding him as inspired and in frequent communication

with the Prophet, listened to his ravings with a reverence equal to

that with which they would have received a command of God. Calling

the people together, this fanatic proclaimed in the market-place

of the city that Allah, moved by the wretchedness of his faithful

worshippers, had decreed that Malaga should be delivered from her

extremity, and that he himself had been appointed as the instrument

to carry the divine will into execution. The credulous populace heard

this announcement with boundless enthusiasm; at the call for volunteers

a great number of soldiers and citizens responded; and from these the

santon selected a band of four hundred, most of them Africans, and

all ready to sacrifice their lives in any desperate undertaking which

might bring them glory on earth or secure their entrance into Paradise.

Leaving the city secretly, the party, avoiding the frequented roads,

hastened through the mountain wilds to Malaga. In the early morning

they made a sudden charge on the Spanish lines near the sea; two

hundred succeeded in cutting their way into the city, and the others

remained dead or captive in front of the intrenchments. During the

attack the santon withdrew to a retired spot near at hand, where, on

his knees and with uplifted face and hands, he assumed an attitude of

devotion. Discovered by the patrol, he maintained a dogged silence

until taken before the Marquis of Cadiz, to whom he announced his

calling and declared his ability to foretell coming events through

revelations from the Almighty. The Marquis, who like all of his

countrymen was not a little superstitious and disposed to give credit

to the pretension of a religious charlatan even if he came in the guise

of an enemy, asked if he knew when and how the city would be taken.

The santon answered in the affirmative, but declared that he would

only impart this information to the King and Queen, unattended and in

secret. Thereupon the Marquis inquired the pleasure of the sovereigns,

who ordered the Moor to be brought before them; and, in the same

condition in which he was captured, clothed with a ragged cloak, and

armed with a short but heavy scimetar, he was at once conducted to the

royal pavilion. Fortunately Ferdinand was asleep and Isabella employed

in some feminine occupation when the guard arrived with the santon, who

was taken into an adjoining tent, where Don Alvaro of Portugal, of the

royal House of Braganza, and Doña Beatrice de Bobadilla, Marchioness

of Moya, the intimate friend of the Queen, were engaged in a game of

chess. The Moor, to whom the persons of the Catholic sovereigns were

unknown, supposing, as a matter of course, that the couple before him,

whose splendid apparel denoted personages of the highest distinction,

were the objects of his nefarious design, drew his scimetar and

inflicted a dangerous wound on Don Alvaro. He then aimed several

blows at the Marchioness, who had fallen to the ground in terror,

but his weapon striking the canvas of the tent each time he raised

it disconcerted his aim, and his intended victim escaped injury. The

savage fanatic was instantly killed by the soldiers, and his mutilated

remains cast over the walls from a catapult. Collected reverently by

the Moslems, they were sewed together, dressed in silken robes, and,

after being sprinkled with the costliest perfumes, were buried with all

the honors due to a martyr who had sacrificed his life in a bold if a

reprehensible and fruitless attempt to render a service to his country.

In reprisal, a Galician captive of rank was killed and tied upon an

ass, which was driven into the Christian lines, an act as impolitic as

cruel, for it only served to further exasperate the besiegers, already

rendered sufficiently implacable by their losses, their hardships,

and the unexpected severity of the labors imposed upon them by the

desperate resistance of the enemy.

While famine and suffering daily increased within the walls of Malaga,

the condition of the Spaniards, for a time discouraging, was now

steadily improving. Many nobles from Valencia and Catalonia, desirous

of serving under their monarchs and provided with substantial aid in

men and money, repaired to the camp. The Duke of Medina-Sidonia, with

his son and a great following of retainers, brought the influence of

his name and presence and, what was even more acceptable, the tender of

twenty thousand doubloons of gold. By these means the army, originally

consisting of seventy thousand men, was considerably augmented. The

magazines were replenished. Vast heaps of grain were tantalizingly

exposed to the view of the starving Moslems. New recruits were

enlisted. Great stores of ammunition were collected, and the increased

enthusiasm and renewed fury of the assaults apprised the besieged that

only some crushing reverse could overcome the inflexible determination

of their foes.

Scarcely a day now passed that a number of the citizens of Malaga did

not enter the Christian camp, forfeiting their liberty to escape death

by starvation. Reduced to skeletons and staggering with weakness, they

devoured with the ravenous appetite of famine the food that was given

them, exciting by their deplorable condition the compassion even of

their unfeeling conquerors. The accounts they gave of the straits to

which their brethren were reduced convinced the Spaniards that the

struggle could not much longer be maintained. The streets were covered

with decomposing corpses. Those wounded in battle and the perishing

victims of hunger lay side by side, both helpless and uncared for.

The terrible Gomeres, restricted to quarter-rations, and rendered

still more savage by suffering and by daily familiarity with carnage,

stalked unquestioned through every house, enforcing their demands for

food with threats whose bloody significance the slightest inattention

was quick to realize. Most pitiable was the state of the women and

children, many of them left unprotected by the fortune of war, without

the means of sustaining life, exposed to hourly danger, oppressed by

the sad remembrance of their losses, with no prospect save death or the

even more unhappy one of perpetual servitude. The Castilians listened

to these statements with incredulity, for it seemed impossible that

under such trials the spirit of the Moslems could remain unbroken

and undismayed. The assaults on the trenches continued. The ships

of the fleet were attacked and some of them destroyed. The hopes of

the besieged were sustained by the assurances of ultimate victory

proclaimed by another fanatic, who, in spite of the failure of his

predecessor, found it easy to obtain among his credulous countrymen

implicit belief in his extravagant promises. Under his advice, six

strong battalions attacked simultaneously the Spanish intrenchments

held by the commands of the Grand Masters of Alcantara and Santiago.

The Christians, although habitually on their guard, were surprised

and driven back; but the success of the Moslems was but temporary; a

determined effort sufficed to repulse them, and after losing many men

they retired in disorder.