This engagement was the crisis of the siege. The garrison was no longer

able to man the fortifications, fast crumbling under the enemy’s guns.

Of five thousand picked men that originally composed it, three-fifths

had been killed and wounded, and the remainder were greatly weakened

by disease and privation. The lamentations of the starving, and the

remonstrances of those citizens whose personal interests had always

inclined them to peace, now became too importunate to longer remain

unheeded. The indomitable Hamet-al-Zegri and his guards sullenly betook

themselves to the Gibralfaro. Five prominent merchants, empowered by

the people to sue for peace, were sent to the head-quarters of the

King. Their proposal to yield on substantially the same terms which

had been granted other conquered cities was rejected with haughty

disdain, and they were informed that nothing short of an agreement

involving the unconditional surrender of their persons and property

would be entertained. In despair the envoys returned; the citizens

consented to abandon everything provided their liberty was assured;

and, if this should still be denied, they threatened to hang from

the battlements every Christian captive in their power, and, having

placed the women and children in the Alcazaba, to set fire to the

city, and then, sallying forth, sell their lives dearly in battle

with their unrelenting foes. To this menace Ferdinand replied that

if a single captive was killed he would put every Moor in Malaga to

death, and that no other terms would be given except those already

communicated to their messengers. The desperate circumstances of the

besieged allowed them no alternative but absolute submission to the

will of the conqueror, and after much altercation they signified their

consent to surrender without conditions. Hostages were given to secure

their fidelity; the victorious army marched into the city; all of the

inhabitants were compelled to assemble in the Alcazaba, there to await

the pleasure of the King; the brave Hamet-al-Zegri was placed in irons

and sold in the slave-market of Carmona; the Christian deserters,

whose information had been instrumental in confirming the obstinacy of

the Moors, were put to death by torture; the streets were cleansed of

impurities; and in the great mosque, consecrated to Christianity amidst

the imposing forms of the Catholic ritual, mass was said in gratitude

for the prosperous event of an enterprise which, in difficulty, in

duration, and in the intrepidity and fertility of resource exhibited by

the enemy, was without parallel in the history of the Reconquest. Five

hundred captives, whose survival proved that they had been better cared

for than many of their masters, came in solemn procession to return

thanks for their deliverance. Not a few of them, who had long abandoned

all hope of liberty, had been enslaved for twenty years. Many villages

near Malaga were occupied by the Spanish troops, and their inhabitants

were confined with their countrymen for future disposition in the

spacious enclosure of the citadel.

In deciding the fate of the people of Malaga, the remarkable

constancy and heroism which they had displayed in defence of their

homes--qualities that must have awakened the admiration and respect of

every mind susceptible to the sentiments of generosity and pity--were

not taken into consideration by Ferdinand and Isabella, except to

the prejudice of the victims. In accordance with mediæval custom

the vanquished were absolutely at the mercy of the conquerors. By a

refinement of political casuistry they were also branded as rebels.

The grounds for this accusation are now difficult to determine. The

Moslems of Malaga were, and always had been, the subjects of Al-Zagal,

the uncompromising enemy of the Christians, and, by the most ingenious

and far-fetched application of Castilian law or feudal practice, could

never have been included among the dependents or tributaries of the

Spanish Crown. It is probable that the claim may have been founded

on the suzerainty exercised by former kings, and acknowledged by the

princes of Granada as a political necessity, but never conceded as an

inalienable right. Exasperation caused by prolonged resistance, and

the conviction that a severe example might deter other cities from

opposing the march of Spanish sovereignty, induced certain persons

attached to the court and army, concerning whose names history is

silent, to urge with vehemence an indiscriminate massacre of the

prisoners,--a proposal which, fortunately for the reputation of the

victors, through considerations of public expediency, if not from

sentiments of humanity, they were induced to reject. The royal decree,

published by sound of trumpet, condemned every Moor to slavery for

life. The severity of this sentence was, however, modified by a

provision which, while it apparently held out a prospect of relief,

yet, so far from abating its rigor, was in fact designed to intensify

it by the infliction of bitter disappointment. Malaga was one of the

most opulent cities of the Mediterranean. Her merchants had amassed

great fortunes by commerce, and their personal property, so valuable

and so likely to be concealed in the face of endless servitude, was a

prize not to be lightly relinquished by Spanish rapacity. The priceless

jewels worn by the Moorish women in rich and barbaric profusion were

famous throughout Granada, and reports of their value and beauty had

spread to the Castilian court. Rumors were already in circulation that

the most of these treasures had disappeared. The crafty dissimulation

of the Christian sovereigns readily devised an expedient to recover

this wealth. By royal proclamation it was announced that the entire

number of Moors could be delivered from slavery on the payment within

eight months of a sum amounting to thirty doubloons of gold for each

man, woman, and child. This, however, was only applicable collectively.

No individual could offer a separate ransom; and no death within

the allotted time was to be taken into consideration,--all were to

be redeemed alike and together, whether living or dead. It was an

indispensable condition of this extraordinary grant of indulgence that

the entire personal property of the people of Malaga should be at once

transferred to the officers of the treasury, to be credited on account.

The Moors, without calculating the enormous sum required to ransom

such a multitude or reflecting upon the numerous pretexts by which an

agreement made with a perfidious conqueror might be repudiated, eagerly

grasped at the tempting but fallacious prospect of freedom.

As the entire number of the citizens and garrison was not far from

eleven thousand, it required three hundred and thirty thousand

doubloons, equal to twenty-one million one hundred and twenty thousand

dollars at the present estimate of values, to effect their deliverance.

Every encouragement was at once extended the captives to unearth their

hidden treasures. Conducted to their houses, they brought forth from

the depths of wells and cisterns, from excavations in the gardens,

from concealed vaults and secret receptacles, from fountains and

walled-up niches, gold and silver ornaments, jewels, coin, and plate,

and every conceivable species of portable riches. A list of all the

owners was made, together with an inventory and appraisement of their

property, which we may rest assured was not valued at an extravagant

figure. History does not inform us of the amount secured or of the

deficit. As the ransom of a captive is one of the most meritorious

acts of a Moslem, and one explicitly enjoined by his religion, the

Malagans expected that their fellow-sectaries would readily contribute

the remaining sum required for their liberty. In this they were sadly

disappointed; the subjects of Boabdil refused to compromise themselves

by assisting the enemies of Ferdinand, and by order of their king the

letters and petitions were intercepted and sent to the Spanish court.

The partisans of Al-Zagal, impoverished through contributions demanded

by the exigencies of war and disheartened by defeat, were unable to

respond to the pressing importunities of their brethren, harassed by

the memory of recent distress and menaced by the most deplorable of

human calamities. The charity of the Moslems hence fell far short of

the demands which the necessities of their countrymen exacted. Although

even the inhabitants of Morocco and Tlemcen--whom recently established

relations with the Spanish Crown may have unfavorably influenced--were

appealed to, it was found impossible to collect the required amount.

The Moorish prisoners were divided into three classes,--one destined to

be exchanged for Christians detained in captivity in Africa; the second

to be distributed as spoil among the most eminent personages in the

army according to rank or merit; and the third to be sold at auction

for the benefit of the treasury, to partially defray the expenses of

the siege. As an acknowledgment of the aid his endorsement had afforded

a war waged in the name of religion, and to get rid of captives whose

reputation and character indicated they might prove troublesome, a

hundred of the most ferocious Gomeres were presented to the Pope. Fifty

of the most comely Moslem damsels were given to the Queen of Naples.

Thirty others became the slaves of the Queen of Portugal. Isabella also

distributed a large number of these attractive maidens among the ladies

of the court, and several of them were retained for her own service in

the palace.

Those prominent citizens who had vainly attempted at different times to

procure the surrender of Malaga were suffered to retain their property

and enjoy their freedom in the condition of tributaries. Ali-Dordux

as a recompense for his peculiar services received twenty houses,

with many valuable lands and villas, and was appointed alcalde of the

Mudejares. The surviving Jews of the city, amounting in all to four

hundred and fifty persons, the majority of them women, were ransomed by

Abraham Señor, a rich Hebrew, collector for the royal treasury of the

Jewish tribute of Castile. Their chattels were received and accounted

for in part payment of their ransom, which was twenty thousand

doubloons of gold.

Thus ends the mournful story of the capture of Malaga. No similar

event in history exhibits in a more striking manner the heroism of the

conquered and the perfidy and malevolence of the conquerors. Human

valor and self-sacrifice under the most discouraging circumstances

could not accomplish more than was effected by the Moslems. No

greater disregard for those virtues which appeal most strongly to

the human heart--loyalty, patriotism, intrepidity, firmness--or for

those sufferings which arouse the chivalrous sympathy of the brave

could be shown than was displayed by the triumphant Christians. The

honorable terms ever accorded by a magnanimous victor to a courageous

but unfortunate foe were insolently refused. The enslavement of an

entire community, while not repugnant to the barbarous customs of

mediæval warfare, was unusual, and was certainly unmerited by those

whose only crime was a resolute defence of home and country. The

infamy of the scheme through which they were deluded by false hopes of

deliverance from servitude, and, at the same time, despoiled of their

possessions, is deserving of the severest reprobation. It was well

known to Ferdinand, who fixed the amount and whose influence was no

doubt employed in counteracting the efforts of the emissaries of the

captives, that the exorbitant ransom could never be paid. Even if the

obligation had been discharged, there is little doubt, in view of the

subsequent course pursued by the Spanish Crown in similar transactions,

that the result would have been the same. The spirit which did not

reject with indignation, but could calmly discuss, the deliberate

massacre of eleven thousand defenceless persons as a matter of public

convenience, would hardly refuse to repudiate a contract when its

violation was sanctioned by the plausible and popular suggestions of

sacerdotal casuistry. The part taken by the Queen in this disreputable

transaction, more characteristic of the arts of a pettifogger than

of the justice of a high-minded sovereign, is incapable of excuse

or palliation even by the artifices of the most fulsome apologist.

Her responsibility was equal to that of her husband. She was fully

cognizant of the entire negotiation. A single word from her would have

arrested it, but that word was not spoken. Unfortunately for her fame,

on this as on many other occasions, she seems to have sacrificed the

noblest attributes of her sex to considerations of momentary advantage

and spurious morality at the dictation of malignant and intriguing

ecclesiastics, whose power as keepers of the royal conscience and

whose insidious counsels had already begun to exert a marked and most

pernicious influence on the policy of the crown.

In the midst of their reverses the infuriated temper of the Moors of

the capital and the consequent insecurity of the throne of Boabdil

had become daily more apparent. His frantic appeals for assistance

were answered by the despatch of Gonsalvo de Cordova with three

thousand men, whose presence awed the malcontents and confirmed for a

time the falling power of a monarch whose selfish and short-sighted

measures continued to afford the most substantial aid to the enemies

of his country. As a recompense for his invaluable services, the

subjects of Boabdil passed their lives in comparative peace; their

labors were uninterrupted; their harvests ripened and were gathered

in security; and their merchants, transporting their wares beyond the

frontier, carried on a profitable trade with the cities of Andalusia

and Castile. The boundaries of the royal vassal’s domain, constantly

growing more narrow through the vicissitudes of revolution, the

encroachments of perfidious allies, and the ravages of war, could now

be discerned from the battlements of the Alhambra. His name, loaded

with the most insulting epithets, was openly cursed in the streets.

By a cruel stratagem, worthy of his Christian patron, he suppressed a

spirit of rebellion which daily threatened a serious outbreak. Five

of the most influential agitators were invited to a conference in the

palace. Relying upon the royal word and unsuspicious of treachery

they repaired to the Alhambra. Seized and manacled, they were at

once delivered to an equal number of executioners, decapitated, and

their heads, fixed on pikes, were borne through the city, preceded

by a crier, as a suggestive warning to the disaffected. To such

atrocious methods was this petty tyrant compelled to resort in order

to maintain the existence of his uncertain and tottering authority.

While they were temporarily successful, they in fact still further

weakened a power based exclusively upon fear. All persons of wealth and

consequence who could do so secretly departed from the capital, and the

populace, suppressing the grief and indignation they felt on account

of the execution of their leaders, awaited impatiently the moment of

vengeance. On the other hand, the tireless and impetuous Al-Zagal,

taking advantage of the opportunity afforded by the retirement of the

Christians, carried ruin and dismay beyond the frontier. The garrison

of Nijar was massacred. Cullar was taken and burnt. From Almeria and

the towns of its jurisdiction predatory expeditions swept the fertile

valleys of Murcia. In the Serrania of Ronda and the Sierra Bermeja the

mountaineers revolted, visited with their destructive forays the plains

of Andalusia, and repulsed an attack of the Marquis of Cadiz, whose

operations were soon afterwards suspended on account of a succession of

tornadoes and earthquakes.

Meanwhile, the Spanish King had not been idle. Entering the dominions

of Al-Zagal from the side of Murcia,--a territory hitherto remote from

the seat of war and consequently exempt from its ravages,--he had

brought into subjection a large and important region, together with

the towns of Vera, Cuevas, Huescar, and many others, which, at the

appearance of the army, surrendered without resistance. Encouraged by

his success, he next appeared before Almeria. Unfortunately for his

plans, concerted with Moslem traitors in the city who had arranged

to betray their trust to the Christians, Al-Zagal had learned of

this design, had foiled it with his usual energy, and at that moment

the heads of the conspirators were fixed on the battlements of the

castle. The force of the Moorish King, which numbered twenty-one

thousand, attacked the advance guard of the enemy with irresistible

fury, defeated it, and compelled the whole army to retreat. Ferdinand

retired towards Baza, closely followed by Al-Zagal. Near that city the

Moslem veteran placed an ambush, into which he had no difficulty in

decoying the Spaniards. The advance guard was again routed, this time

with serious loss, and it required all the efforts of the King and his

ablest captains to save the army from destruction. Among the dead was

Don Philip of Aragon, nephew of Ferdinand, and many other distinguished

officers. The march of the Christians was severely harassed by the

enemy’s cavalry as far as the river Guadalquiton, a distance of twenty

miles.

In the month of May, 1489, Ferdinand once more invaded the Moorish

kingdom with the design of besieging Baza. His plans were well known

to Al-Zagal months before they were put into execution, and every

possible expedient was employed to counteract them. The entire country

was scoured for provisions. The magazines of the city were filled with

grain. Its arsenal was stocked with weapons. A stirring appeal from

their sovereign summoned to the defence of Baza the veterans of many

a hard-fought field, bold mountaineers of the Alpujarras, desperate

adventurers who had lost home and kindred by the casualties of war, and

hundreds of the gallant cavaliers of Granada, who, weary of inaction,

disgusted with their prince, and dreading the imputation of cowardice,

were eager to once more draw their swords in the cause of their country

and their religion.

The command of Baza was intrusted to Sidi Yahya, one of the ablest and

most conspicuous examples of Moslem chivalry produced by the wars of

the Reconquest. Of royal lineage and distinguished connections,--for

he was at once the nephew and the brother-in-law of Al-Zagal as well

as the hereditary prince of Almeria,--he had early exhibited talents

for war and diplomacy far beyond his years. A division of ten thousand

cavalry organized, equipped, and disciplined by him had attained the

highest state of efficiency possible in the rapid evolutions and crafty

stratagems which constituted the favorite tactics of Arab warfare.

In addition to this force, which in perfection of organization and

drill had no equal in the Moorish or Christian armies, Sidi Yahya had

at his disposal an equal number of well-armed troops, commanded by

experienced generals who had seen service under Al-Zagal and Muley

Hassan. The garrison of Baza consisted of ten thousand men, most of

them selected for their valor and fidelity from the flower of the

Moorish army, and the rest, animated by the memory of past injuries

and eager for retaliation, made up in ferocity what they lacked in

experience and discipline. In the arrangements for defence everything

had been taken into consideration which could either annoy an enemy or

deprive him of even the slightest advantage. The suburbs, by which Baza

in common with most Andalusian cities was surrounded, were evacuated.

The ripened crops were gathered and transported inside the walls. The

trees were stripped of their fruits. New passages were opened in the

suburban labyrinth of lanes and alleys to facilitate the movements of

the garrison and perplex the enemy, who, under similar circumstances,

had more than once encountered disaster. The well-fortified city of

Baza was of high antiquity, and had been a place of importance even

under the Carthaginian domination. It occupied the slope of a lofty

hill forming a spur of the sierra, was surrounded by walls of great

solidity, and defended by a castle of remarkable strength. Its environs

were occupied by groves and gardens, intersected by pathways arched

with verdure and bordered by hedges. A fertile valley thirty-two

miles long by twelve in width, irrigated by canals, and producing a

succession of harvests, displayed at every point evidences of the

highest degree of industry. Amidst its luxuriant plantations appeared

the white walls of numerous palaces and country-seats, inhabited or

frequented by the prominent residents of the city. From the ramparts of

the castle more than a thousand towers, distributed over the valley,

could be counted, places of refuge for the shepherd and the laborer in

case of a sudden alarm or a hostile inroad. The orchards extended more

than a mile from the walls of the suburbs, which, constructed rather

for enclosure than protection, were low, and composed of rough stones

put together with mud and lime.

Arrived before Baza, the great army of the Christians attempted to

penetrate the orchards and intrench itself near their inner border.

Conscious of the importance of preventing this movement, the garrison

issued from the city in force, and a hand-to-hand battle began.

Perfectly familiar with the locality, and able to thread at will the

maze of intersecting paths darkened by overhanging foliage, fighting

on foot against horsemen encumbered with heavy weapons and armor,

and more accustomed to such encounters than their adversaries, the

Moors readily obtained the advantage. Each tower and house sent forth

a stream of deadly missiles. Every hedge concealed a body of enemies

ready to fall upon the rear of an advancing column. The confined and

perplexing nature of the ground made it impossible to maintain the

line of battle, to obey the word of command, and often, amidst the

smoke and confusion, to distinguish friend from foe. The result of the

struggle was therefore largely dependent on the efforts of individual

courage. Each soldier sought an antagonist, and the savage combat

terminated only with the death of an enemy. The shady arcades of the

forest rang with the reports of musketry, the shouts of the combatants,

and the clash of steel upon steel. To add to the horrors of the scene,

some towers which had been taken by the Christians, and others, still

held by the Moors, were set on fire, and the shrieks of the tortured

wretches who occupied them and whose escape was cut off rose high above

the din of battle. Many prudent Spanish officers, recognizing the

disadvantages under which they labored and apprehensive of a disastrous

result, endeavored to withdraw their commands; but, utterly bewildered,

and unable to ascertain the direction of the camp, they were forced

to participate, against their will, in the dangers of the unequal and

uncertain contest. It raged with fury for twelve long hours; the press

of reinforcements hindered the retirement of those in the front of the

lines, and many unhurt fell from sheer exhaustion. At length, as night

was approaching, the superior endurance of the Christians prevailed,

and the Moslems, oppressed with fatigue but still undaunted, withdrew

to a palisade in the centre of the orchards, leaving to their opponents

the doubtful advantage of a bloody and barren victory.

After a short respite, the Moors, under cover of the darkness and aided

by the dense foliage which the Spaniards in the obscurity dared not

attempt to penetrate, resumed the fight; and until dawn the entire

force remained under arms, exposed to a galling fire of balls and

arrows discharged at easy range, which they were powerless to check and

unable to answer.

With the morning light appeared a scene of desolation where but the day

before had been displayed a picture of serenity and peace. The elegant

villas had been transformed into shapeless heaps of ashes. Over the

ground, trampled like a highway by the feet of thousands, were strewn

the melancholy proofs of the obstinacy with which the contest had been

waged,--broken weapons, dinted armor, tattered banners, blood-stained

garments, and hundreds of bodies distorted by the frightful agonies

of death. The grass and the flowers, which so recently presented a

pleasing contrast of many colors, had now assumed a uniform, crimson

hue. The air was still murky with the smoke of battle, which, absorbed

by the mist, the rays of the sun were slow to dissipate. When the

Spaniards had collected their wounded and buried their dead their

heavy loss was disclosed; and it became apparent that the present

position, taken in violation of every consideration of prudence, was

untenable. Convinced of his error, Ferdinand at once ordered the camp

to be removed to the plain, and, under a continuous fire, the soldiers

retired from the spot where the enterprise of its commanders had met

with such an inauspicious beginning. A council of war was then held

to determine the course to be adopted. A large preponderance of

votes favored the abandonment of the undertaking. In his perplexity,

Ferdinand, as was his custom in all important emergencies, solicited

the opinion of the Queen. Isabella, whose martial spirit and vigorous

understanding were averse to countenancing even an appearance of

indecision or cowardice, while leaving the determination of the

question to the army, plainly indicated her desire that the siege

should be prosecuted. Her answer was received with acclamations;

the misgivings of the wavering were removed by the confidence of

success which now pervaded the camp; and the city, soon invested on

all sides, excepting that of the sierra, began to realize that its

deliverance, if achieved at all, could only be secured after a severe

and protracted struggle. The immense extent of the lines which required

to be guarded exceeded the capacity and exhausted the power of even

ninety-five thousand men. In order to deprive the Moors of one of their

most valuable means of defence, the order was issued to cut down the

orchards. This proceeding, of itself one of extreme difficulty, was

rendered doubly hazardous by the enemy, who exhausted every resource

to prevent its accomplishment. An advance guard of seven thousand men

protected those detailed for the work of destruction. The number and

size of the trees were so great that the axemen could scarcely advance

ten paces in as many hours; and it required the incessant labor of

four thousand men forty days to complete the stupendous task. The

possession of every foot of ground was stubbornly contested; and,

besides the desultory attacks of skirmishers, twice every day the

Moors charged the slowly advancing line at several different points,

confusing the workmen with their cries, and taxing to the utmost the

energy and the resolution of those appointed to defend them. When,

finally, every tree had been removed, the line of circumvallation was

established. A ditch, protected by palisades, was excavated on the

sides towards the valley, and strengthened by fifteen castles built of

stone, which were distributed at intervals of three hundred paces along

the intrenchments. On the declivity of the sierra a double wall was

constructed, so that an attack from any quarter might be repelled. The

entire circuit of the fortified line was upward of twelve miles. Thus

completely surrounded, the activity of the besieged, hitherto incessant

and dangerous, was effectually restrained. An attempt to cut off the

water-supply of the city, which was obtained from a spring at the foot

of the mountain, was frustrated by the prudent diligence of the Moslems.

The monotonous course of the siege dragged wearily on, broken

occasionally by some gallant exploit or by some encounter marked by

the courtesy whose practice was inculcated by the chivalrous rules

of the tilt and the tournament. A foray to the gates of Guadix,

undertaken by that daring cavalier, Hernan Perez del Pulgar, whose

intrepid and often foolhardy achievements contribute so much to the

romantic interest attaching to the history of the War of Granada,

resulted in the defeat of a squadron of Moorish cavalry and the

seizure of a considerable number of cattle. The responsibility of the

entire expedition devolved on Pulgar, whose courage at a critical

moment saved the day and prevented the rout and capture of the entire

detachment. As rumors of the peril of Baza spread through the remaining

provinces of the kingdom, the Moors, aware that the fall of that

city would involve their own destruction, were everywhere overcome

with indignation and terror. An attempt to elude the vigilance of

the besiegers and introduce provisions and troops into the town met

with signal failure. Even in the capital, the selfish interests of

the mercantile community could no longer withstand the reproaches

of the people, who viewed with feverish apprehension the prospect

of the dissolution of their monarchy and the extinction of their

religion. Their seditious murmurs, which did not hesitate to suggest

the assassination of a treacherous king, reached the Alhambra; the

emissaries of Boabdil readily ascertained the identity of the leaders;

they were apprehended and beheaded; and this summary exhibition of

severity awed the indiscreet populace, which seemed never able to

learn that the first and most indispensable requisite of successful

insurrection is secrecy. Unable to grasp or appreciate the significance

of the events transpiring around him, unsuspicious or careless of the

part he was taking in the undermining of his dynasty, Boabdil remained

in inglorious retirement amidst the voluptuous delights of that palace

from whose enchanting precincts he was erelong to be expelled under

every circumstance of obloquy and shame. By his orders, the guaranty

of security and the promise of additional favors from Ferdinand and

Isabella to all who acknowledged his authority were proclaimed in every

market-place throughout his jurisdiction. Insensible to disgrace, he

accepted each month from the Spanish Court the stipend which confirmed

his subservient infamy; and, in return for this degrading compensation,

he subverted every attempt to repel the invaders of his country, and

diligently suppressed at its inception each demonstration in favor of

national integrity and independence.

In their despair, the Spanish Moslems now resorted to a strange

expedient. Distracted by their misfortunes, which seemed but the

prelude to greater calamities, and without friends or allies, they

turned in their distress to the Sultan of Turkey, a potentate who,

not only for his eminence as a Mussulman ruler, but also as Commander

of the Faithful, the religious representative of the Prophet, was

entitled to the reverence, as he was intrusted with the protection, of

the various nations of the Mohammedan world. In pathetic terms they

represented the evils to which they had for centuries been subjected by

Christian encroachment, their inability to longer resist the progress

of conquest, the sacrifices and losses they had been compelled to

endure, the enslavement of their brethren, and the difficulties which

their ultimate subjection must inevitably impose upon the existence and

perpetuation of the Moslem faith. Moved by the piteous supplication

of his fellow-sectaries, Bajazet II. despatched two Franciscan friars

to Rome, to threaten the Pope with retaliation upon the Christians in

his dominions--who under Turkish rule enjoyed the utmost liberty of

thought and action--unless he used his power to restrain his Catholic

dependents in Spain. His Holiness sent the envoys of the Sultan to the

Spanish Court bearing a letter from himself, which simply recounted

the facts, but prudently omitted any recommendations. The answer

of Ferdinand and Isabella was both ingenious and plausible. They

claimed, not unjustly, the entire Peninsula by right of inheritance;

an inheritance usurped by the ancestors of those who now laid claim

to territory about to be lost in the same manner in which it was

acquired; they declared that their title to this empire had never

been renounced or forfeited, but had been constantly asserted through

seven centuries of warfare; and that under their dominion all infidel

tributaries enjoyed privileges equal to those conferred upon Christians

in any Mohammedan community in the world. In order to gain the favor of

the Mussulman monarch, Ferdinand promised to assist him with men and

ships in the war which he was then waging against the Emir of Egypt.

The Catholic sovereigns seem to have had the best of the argument,

for nothing further is related of the controversy; and the Sultan

interfered no more in the affairs of the Peninsula, but left the

unfortunate votaries of Islam to their fate.

As the nature of the country through which Baza was approached made

the transportation of heavy artillery extremely difficult, it was

deemed preferable to reduce the city by blockade. All supplies were

necessarily conveyed by pack-train, and, in consequence of the great

amount required, there was occasionally a scarcity of provisions. No

inconvenient effects after five months of enforced seclusion were

apparent in the conduct of the people of Baza. The daily attacks,

skirmishes, defiances, continued without intermission; and while

deserters frequently reported the insufficiency of food, no evidence

of want was visible in the movements of the soldiers, whose activity

and prowess indicated anything but the weakness born of famine and

emaciation. The approach of winter, a season of great severity in the

mountains of Baza, inspired the Moors with renewed and enthusiastic

confidence. On the other hand, the Christians, admonished of the

hardships they were liable to encounter, prepared as best they could to

alleviate and endure them.

The executive ability of Isabella, who in every campaign had assumed

the arduous duty of keeping the army provided with whatever was

required for the conduct of military operations, was never more

eminently displayed than at the siege of Baza. Notwithstanding the

difficulties attaching to the carriage of supplies, plenty, for the

greater portion of the time, reigned in the besieging army. From the

head-quarters of the Queen at Jaen, convoys under strong escorts were

constantly passing and repassing through the mountains with vast

quantities of grain and munitions of war. Such confidence was felt

in the security of transportation through the enemy’s country that,

from every province of the Peninsula as well as from Sicily, merchants

brought their wares to the camp, where a ready market was found for

objects of luxury,--“articles,” as a contemporaneous chronicler

plaintively remarks, “which render soldiers effeminate and injure

armies, while they are in no respect advantageous to them.”

In accordance with their usual policy, the Spaniards proceeded to

impress the enemy with the permanent character of their enterprise. A

great number of huts of stone, cemented with mud, were built, and laid

out in streets with all the regularity of a town. In addition to these,

destined for the nobility and their vassals, many rude shelters were

constructed from the trunks and branches of trees for the accommodation

of the common soldiers, the horses, and the followers of the camp.

These labors had hardly been completed when a furious storm undermined

the walls, demolished the buildings, and involved in a scene of chaos

the quarters of the entire army. The lighter materials were instantly

swept away by the mountain torrents. Many soldiers were killed by the

crumbling hovels, or, pinned down by heavy weights, were suffocated in

the mire. The provisions were nearly all destroyed, and the roads so

damaged that communication with Jaen was completely interrupted. The

greatest distress soon prevailed. For nearly two weeks the soldiers

remained without shelter and almost without food. Wading knee-deep

in mud, drenched with constant rain, debilitated by hunger, hundreds

died from exposure and from the fevers resulting from unsanitary

conditions. During all this time the hostility of the Moors never for

a moment slackened. In sheer desperation the Christians, although

faint with weakness and disease, maintained their ground. Those who

had from the first advised against the siege as impracticable now

became importunate. The King listened to their remonstrances, and

began to consider in his own mind the propriety of a retreat. Once

more the inflexible resolution of Isabella revived the sinking spirits

of her consort and her subjects and restored the fortunes of the

campaign. In reply to the communications of Ferdinand, recounting the

difficulties and discouragements he was forced to endure, she urged

patience, determination, courage. Six thousand men were sent forth

at once from Jaen to clear and repair the paths through the sierra.

Convoys with ample supplies followed closely upon the heels of the

pioneers. In addition to this, knowing that the soldiers deprived of

their pay for months were impatient and inclined to be mutinous, the

Queen wrote personal letters to the wealthy nobles requesting advances

of money, and deposited her own gold and silver plate and jewels in

Barcelona and Valencia, as security for loans. An idea may be formed

of the straits to which the treasury had been reduced by the war from

the fact that the royal crown of Castile and a magnificent necklace of

great value on which sixty thousand florins had been advanced remained

in the latter city unredeemed in 1490, six years after they had been

pledged. By these energetic measures a large sum was obtained, from

which all arrears could be discharged and the remainder applied to the

prosecution of war.

But while this substantial assistance was of the greatest value

in preserving the army, it was far from removing the prevalent

apprehension and discontent. The great reliance that was placed on the

Queen, and the universal respect entertained for her judgment, were

now manifested in the general desire that she should visit the camp.

The King did not hesitate to declare that he sorely needed her advice.

Those who still favored the continuance of active operations hoped

that her presence would infuse fresh enthusiasm into the minds of the

disheartened troops; the malcontents, weary of hardship and sighing

for the pleasures of Cordova and Seville, were convinced that personal

experience of the dangers of the siege, which, while productive of

enormous expense and loss of life, offered little prospect of adequate

compensation, would induce their sovereign to favor the abandonment

of such an unprofitable enterprise. Six months had elapsed without

the acquirement of any substantial advantage. In spite of the fact

that every day of that time had been marked by one or more bloody

encounters, the Moslems were apparently as determined as ever. The

reports of deserters now conveyed the information that provisions for

several months still remained in the city. The women of Baza, animated

by a noble spirit of self-denial, had contributed their jewels to pay

the garrison. All attempts at negotiation--considered by the Moors as

conclusive evidences of weakness--had been repulsed, and the latter did

not conceal their expectation that the winter storms would yet force

the retreat of the enemy. But the inability to employ heavy ordnance

was the most serious drawback of all. Without it the fortifications of

Baza were impregnable. The reduction by blockade was tedious, perilous,

uncertain. While, as in the case of Malaga, no relief from exterior

sources could be expected, the besieged were not exposed to artillery

fire, and the event was, in fact, entirely a question of physical

endurance.

Under these discouraging circumstances, Isabella set out from Jaen.

In her train were members of the Royal Council, Cardinal Mendoza, the

Archbishop of Seville, and an imposing array of prelates and nobles,

of knights and ladies, who represented the piety, the dignity, and the

beauty of the Court. The arrival of the Queen diffused universal joy

and confidence throughout the camp; hostilities, which heretofore had

been incessant, were suspended; silence and peace reigned where but

a few hours before had resounded the noise and turmoil of conflict;

and the Moors began to evince a disposition to entertain proposals

for surrender, which until this time they had persistently refused to

consider. In consequence of this favorable inclination of the besieged,

an interview was held between the Don Gutierre de Cardenas, Commander

of Leon, as the representative of the Catholic sovereigns, and Sidi

Yahya, the Moslem governor. The question was submitted to the citizens

of Baza, and by them referred to Al-Zagal. In their representations

to the King, the people set forth the painful circumstances of their

extremity, the hopelessness of aid, the apparently inexhaustible

resources of the enemy, and their dread of the consequences, if

misfortune should follow further resistance. To this appeal Al-Zagal

generously replied that it was his wish that his subjects should act in

this case as might seem most advantageous to them.

When this decision became known the utmost consternation spread

throughout the great city of Guadix. Long the seat of royal power,

isolated by its retired situation and by the mountains that surrounded

it from active participation in, or personal experience of, the events

which had contributed to the downfall of the monarchy, its inhabitants

looked forward with undisguised repugnance and fear to the supremacy of

a foreign ruler and the introduction of a hostile religion. The people,

divided into two parties, one of which favored submission and the other

resistance, were distracted by the contradictory arguments of the

leaders, whose indignation was intensified by the acrimony of dispute;

general distrust prevailed; the exercise of authority was for the

moment suspended; the streets resounded with pathetic lamentations;

and the trembling citizens, with pallid faces and half-frenzied with

terror, asked each other if even their lives would be spared. It was

with the utmost difficulty that persons of influence and distinction

could pacify their ignorant neighbors, whose excited feelings had

rendered them a prey to the most dismal apprehensions.

The reply of Al-Zagal was no sooner received than Sidi Yahya made

arrangements for the surrender of Baza. Some provisions of the articles

of capitulation were secret, and were never divulged. Many Moors of

high rank were enriched by their subserviency to the enemy, which

indicated a previous understanding, unsuspected at the time by their

countrymen. The terms made public were almost identical with the

most favorable ones granted to other cities. Non-residents who had

volunteered their assistance during the siege were dismissed without

restraint or ransom. All were confirmed in the possession of their

personal effects; to the citizens was accorded the choice of continued

residence or emigration; no restriction was to be imposed on the use

of laws, customs, language, or religion; the taxes were to remain

unchanged; and, in consideration of their obedience, the people were

to fully enjoy the protection and receive the assistance of their new

sovereigns. Hostages were delivered by the governor and the principal

officials of the city; valuable gifts were presented to the latter, who

did homage to the King and Queen; and the six days within which the

city was to be evacuated, as provided by the treaty, having elapsed,

Baza, after a most memorable defence, passed into the hands of the

Christians on the fourth day of December, 1489.

As soon as information of its surrender had reached the various towns

within its jurisdiction, their magistrates hastened to secure equal

advantages by a timely submission. Within a few days, Almuñecar,

Purchena, Tabernas, the innumerable settlements of the Alpujarras--in

short, all the territory lying between Almeria and Granada--were

added to the rapidly extending dominions of the Spanish Crown. The

influence of Sidi Yahya, who visited Guadix for that purpose, was

the means of inducing Al-Zagal to relinquish that city and Almeria,

with their dependencies, the last relics of his diminished empire.

The valiant old soldier, who had so long and so stoutly withstood the

attacks of adverse fortune, was certainly deserving of a better fate.

His sagacity and penetration readily convinced him of the futility

of further resistance; he submitted with humility to the inexorable

decree of Allah, and yielded with apparent willingness, but inward

abhorrence, the sole remaining vestiges of his power. In return for

these concessions his conquerors generously granted him his life, and

the government of the small and barren principality of Andarax, where

the habitual deference of his inferiors and the indulgence of fortune

permitted him, for a time, the enjoyment of the titles and the exercise

of the privileges of royalty.

Of the fragments of the vast and opulent Hispano-Arab monarchy, with

its scores of magnificent cities, its landscape diversified by all

the evidences of agricultural science and industry, its harbors the

seat of a world-wide commerce, its society graced by every refinement

of literary and artistic culture, there remained now but a limited

and distracted province, bounded by the mountain ranges which

encompassed its capital. That capital, although for years subjected

to the pernicious and destructive effects of constant revolution and

sanguinary disorder, still preserved, to a great extent, untarnished

and unimpaired, its pristine elegance and beauty. Through the

interested and politic forbearance of its enemies, it retained the

delusive semblance of freedom and the pretensions of an imperial

metropolis. No diminution in the number of its inhabitants was

perceptible. The places of those sacrificed in foreign and domestic

wars had been filled by refugees from ravaged lands and plundered

cities. It was only in the decimated ranks of the nobility that the

appalling results of national misfortune were apparent. Few indeed

remained of those gallant cavaliers whose exploits in the field had

for years sustained the exalted reputation of the Granadan chivalry.

Of the five thousand present at the accession of Muley Hassan, but

three hundred had survived. In the superb palaces, a royal slave,

supported by a monthly pension from the Spanish Crown, maintained

the unsubstantial parade of sovereignty and power. There were few

indications visible to suggest the frightful scenes through which the

city had passed. The barricades raised by armed sedition had been

removed. The blood-stains had disappeared from the streets. Far above,

on the highest tower of the citadel, might be discerned, impaled on

pikes and beaten by many a storm, the grisly heads of those political

agitators who had paid the penalty of unsuccessful insurrection with

their lives. Except these significant tokens of despotic severity there

was nothing to indicate the threatening cloud which hung over fair

Granada. Within the ample circuit of its walls the hand of war had

not yet placed its withering grasp. Its orchards still yielded their

delicious fruits. Its gardens were still fragrant with the mingled

odors of myriads of blossoms. In the bazaars, traders from every

province of the Peninsula, relying upon the assurance of Christian

protection, exchanged in peace their various wares. In the factories,

which still produced in diminished quantities the richest fabrics,

the busy artisans plied their trades. But this condition of apparent

tranquillity was delusive. In the breasts of the aristocracy still

rankled the enmity of generations. The populace was exasperated by

tyranny and the infliction of long-continued outrage. The calamities

induced by treason and barbarity were first in the minds of all. No

exhibition of royal pomp could conceal the fact that the King had been

for years a vassal of the infidel. No concession to public prejudice

could atone for the butchery of relatives, the invasion of privacy,

the confiscation of treasure. Over palace and mosque, over park and

thoroughfare, hovered the ineffaceable memories of recent and bloody

fraternal strife. In every public edifice, in every private abode, the

trophies of victory reposed in suggestive proximity to the emblems of

mourning and death.

The Vega, however, once the marvel of agricultural perfection and

the centre of Moslem industry, presented a far different appearance.

The verdant groves with which its surface had been diversified were

gone. Its hydraulic system was disarranged and in part destroyed;

the canals were filled up with rubbish; the rivulets diverted from

their former course, and useless. Instead of the splendid villas,

the graceful mosques, the snowy cottages embowered in roses, a few

straggling huts rose at intervals over the uniform scene of ruin and

devastation. Here and there, a patch of green, marking the spot where

cultivation had begun to revive, contrasted with the generally charred

and desolate aspect of the landscape. An occasional half-demolished

tower indicated the former refuge of the laborer, sufficient against an

ordinary marauding party, but powerless before armies numbering tens of

thousands.

To such limited dimensions was the once all-powerful Moslem empire in

Europe now reduced. Almost from the very day of its foundation it had

been distracted by feud and sedition. It had witnessed the rise and

growth of kingdoms; the birth of dynasties which from insignificant

beginnings now bade fair to overshadow the world with their power; the

portentous growth of a religious system that already menaced liberty of

thought, and was soon to exert a potent and wide-spread influence for

evil. The banner of the Cross had moved in a slow but steady progress

from the frozen valleys of the Pyrenees to the verdant banks of the

Darro. The cold, inhospitable region of the Asturias, destitute of

the smiling attractions of Nature, without military roads or adequate

subsistence, had repelled the assaults and checked the enterprise of

the Moslems, who disdained and avoided a foe equally remarkable for

poverty, fanaticism, and valor. The inability to appreciate and the

neglect to crush this once despised but eventually formidable enemy

was the first step in the decline of the Moorish power. Its fall was

accelerated by many diverse circumstances. The glaring defects of its

monarchical system, the absolute want of cohesion of its numerous

and discordant political elements, the manifold evils derived from

polygamous institutions and disputed inheritance, all became manifest

when the factions of Islam began to contend for superiority in the

bitter and interminable struggle for wealth and dominion.

In the rapidity and perfection of its intellectual development no

nation ever approached the Spanish Arabs. But as their rise was sudden

and brilliant, so their fall was the more crushing and disastrous. The

truism that progressive degeneracy is the inevitable fate of every

people who have reached the highest point of intellectual culture and

material progress was once more to be demonstrated. Unfortunately for

humanity, while the physical sciences advance, the art of government

almost invariably retrogrades. The most perfect form of civilization

is not favorable to the permanence of a state existing under the most

finished social conditions. The greater the degree of intelligence, the

lower the standard of political morality. These facts are strikingly

exemplified in the closing history of the kingdom of Granada. At

that period no people was as far advanced in the attainment of

knowledge; in the practical application of scientific principles; in

familiarity with and appreciation of the mechanical and the elegant

arts. And, it must be added, nowhere was there less patriotism, less

loyalty, less of that spirit of mutual concession and self-sacrifice

indispensable to the preservation of communities and the maintenance

of empire. Sovereign and subject alike, by turns, betrayed each other

to the enemy. The most sacred obligations that can exist between the

governors and the governed were repudiated without a blush. Crimes

that would have appalled barbarians were so common as scarcely to

excite comment. An ignoble competition seemed to exist between bodies

of citizens of the same blood, and professing the same religious

faith, to throw themselves into the power of an artful and perfidious

adversary who was the mortal enemy of all. A universal degradation,

from whose blight even the most illustrious were not exempt, pervaded

all classes,--a condition which had at last reached its climax after

its gradual development through centuries, and was finally disclosed

by that perversion of manners, morals, government, and laws which so

significantly indicates the corruption and the decadence of nations.

The main provision in the compact exacted at Loja by the Catholic

sovereigns from Boabdil in his distress involved the surrender of

Granada and all the contiguous territory subject to his jurisdiction,

as soon as the dominions of Al-Zagal had been incorporated into the

Spanish monarchy. Compliance with the terms of this agreement was now

formally demanded. The weak and unprincipled King, who in making

the bargain had never anticipated its enforcement or appreciated the

debilitated condition of the kingdom and the imminent danger of its

downfall, was thunderstruck when he learned that the power of his

uncle had suddenly collapsed. It had been his hope that the complacent

subserviency he had exhibited in the protection of the interests

of his country’s enemies, the abject submission with which he had

implored their aid against his subjects, and the costly gifts which

he had secretly distributed among influential courtiers standing

in the shadow of the throne, would suffice to procure for him the

enjoyment of at least the name and the appearance of royal authority

for the remainder of his life. Therefore, with a view to deferring the

evil, yet with no definite expectation of preventing it, he tried to

temporize. He represented that immediate fulfilment of his contract

was impossible, for the reason that, as great numbers of persons

driven out of the conquered territory had since become citizens of

Granada, it was necessary to consult their interests and obtain their

acquiescence in the terms demanded. Anxious to avoid a renewal of

hostilities, Ferdinand offered to bestow upon him certain estates

from whose revenue he might live in luxury, dependent solely upon the

acknowledgment of vassalage and the payment of a moderate tribute. But

Boabdil, always vacillating when promptness and decision were required,

always headstrong when the exigencies of the occasion demanded

compliance, as usual adopted an impolitic course. Turning a deaf ear

to the remonstrances of his most sagacious advisers, who recognized

the advantages of submission and the folly of resistance, he began

to listen to the rash counsels of the youthful nobles and desperate

adventurers whose votes were unanimously for war.

Then Ferdinand sent to the people of Granada a copy of the secret

treaty which revealed the perfidy and dishonor of their King. Its

publication aroused such universal indignation and contempt that

nothing but his inaccessible position in the citadel of the Alhambra

saved his life. The streets were filled with a surging mob, whose

clamors rose menacingly to the battlements of the palace. The

renegades, santons, exiles, and soldiers of fortune inflamed the

fickle and turbulent populace, whose supremacy signified anarchy,

proscription, and death. Fortunately for the detested monarch, the

soldiers remained faithful to his cause, and their devotion alone

preserved him from the violence of his infuriated subjects. By

strenuous efforts the old Arab aristocracy and the wealthy merchants

finally succeeded in restoring order. The crowds, still uttering

ominous threats, sullenly dispersed. The shops were once more opened.

Traffic was resumed, and the citizens, with a despairing sense of

helplessness and trepidation, moved uneasily through the streets.

Boabdil, conscious that the only choice now left to him was that of

abdication or war, selected the latter alternative, and publicly

announced his intention to fight, and to prolong, if he could not

palliate, the last throes of an expiring monarchy. The conditions

resulting from the suddenly altered relations of the courts of

Castile and Granada obtained for the Moors some minor advantages; the

castle of Padul and a few other forts near the capital were taken; an

expedition led by Ferdinand in person through the Vega for the purpose

of destroying the harvests failed to thoroughly accomplish its object;

and, constantly harassed by the enemy, the Christians were eventually

forced to retreat.

The pitiful remnant of the kingdom of Granada, heretofore torn by

sedition and threatened with conquest, was now to experience the active

hostility of those who should have ventured their lives to defend

it before it was reduced to extremity. The eminent qualities of Sidi

Yahya, the former governor of Baza, his courtesy and his prowess, his

illustrious birth, and the gallantry with which he had maintained his

trust, had extorted the reluctant applause of his enemies, commendation

formerly denied to others of equal merit but inferior lineage. These

noble attributes had, however, recently been darkened by actions which

brought upon him the imputation of corruption, apostasy, venality, and

treason. He was more than suspected of having sacrificed the people of

Baza for his personal benefit. Men eyed with suspicion the favor he

enjoyed with the Christians, the sudden wealth he had acquired, the

close relations he maintained with the enemy. These accusations, which

his subsequent conduct tended rather to confirm than to remove, were

well grounded. In recognition of his influence great interest was taken

in him. Every attempt was made to induce him to renounce his religion.

The most learned and distinguished prelates labored to convince him of

his errors. Even the Queen interposed her good offices in an attempt at

proselytism. Magnificent presents were bestowed upon him as an earnest

of greater and more substantial rewards. At first, amidst all of the

importunity and temptation of his zealous advisers, the constancy

of the subtle Moor remained apparently unshaken. This firmness was,

however, simulated. He had long before determined to profit by the

certain benefits of a voluntary conversion. His resistance only served

to enhance the credit of those who effected his apparent change

of heart. After having been duly “catechised,” as the chronicler

significantly remarks, he became a good Christian, and was secretly

received into the bosom of the Church.

Sidi Yahya, anxious to demonstrate his fidelity to his new suzerain

and to remove any prejudice that might result from his contumacy,

evinced the greatest enthusiasm for the Spanish cause. With a hundred

and fifty followers, he assisted in the foray which laid waste the

environs of Granada; and, by the use of a well-worn stratagem, captured

an important outpost of the capital, and earned at the same time the

applause of his recently acquired friends and the execration of those

still bound to him by the ties of a common ancestry, and who had been

so lately professors of a common faith. Upon the elevation now known

as The Soto de Roma, two leagues from the city, stood in the fifteenth

century a strong castle, built to protect the royal orchards and parks

by which it was surrounded. At the head of his command and apparently

escorting a number of Christian captives, Sidi Yahya approached the

fortress, and, stating that he was closely pursued, requested immediate

shelter. The soldiers of the garrison, deceived by the dress, by the

arms, and especially by the language of the strangers, whom they

supposed to be a party from Granada, without hesitation opened the

gates. A few moments afterwards they were prisoners; their pretended

friends disclosed the fact that they were the vassals of Spain; and

the banner of Castile and Leon was raised upon the battlements. By

such methods did the renowned Moorish captain attempt to emphasize his

new allegiance, thereby meriting the detestation of every faithful

Moslem, and tarnishing the lustre of a military record which, until

his political and religious apostasy, had remained without a blemish.

Al-Zagal also answered the summons of Ferdinand with two hundred

cavalry; and, in sight of those towers where he had formerly reigned

supreme, displayed the same dash and courage which had signalized

his operations while he was the most formidable adversary of those

sovereigns whom the fortunes of war now compelled him to serve in a

subordinate capacity.

The exploit of the princely apostate was soon eclipsed by the capture

of Alhendin. That castle, situated near Granada, was one of the

strongest in the Vega, and had not long before surrendered to the

Spaniards without resistance. Invested suddenly by the forces of

Boabdil, the slender garrison was unable to withstand the impetuous

attack of the Moors, who fought in relays and left the besieged no

respite day or night. Four days sufficed to reduce the Christians to

extremity; all communication with their friends being interrupted

left them no alternative but submission; they were led in triumph to

the dungeons of the capital, and Alhendin was razed to the ground.

After Alhendin, the castles of Alboloduy and Marchena attracted the

hostility of the Moorish King. Both were stormed and pillaged; their

Castilian garrisons were enslaved, and the lands dependent on them,

which formed part of the fief of Sidi Yahya, were ravaged without

mercy. The Mudejares of the surrounding country were tortured or

massacred; the cattle driven away; and the victorious Boabdil returned

to Granada, where he was received with the greatest enthusiasm. These

brilliant deeds raised the fainting hopes of the Moslems; prompted

by the deceptive but plausible expectations of victory, they dreamed

of the return of independence and the restoration of empire; the

army increased rapidly in numbers; and arrangements were made for

the prosecution of an extensive and vigorous campaign. The siege of

Salobreña, whose port offered easy communication with the African

coast, was next undertaken. Its defenders, provided with insufficient

rations, were soon oppressed with hunger, and, exhausted by the

desperate charges of the Moslem soldiery, who, adopting the tactics

successful at Alhendin, maintained a furious and incessant combat,

the suburbs and the town were stormed; and the garrison, driven to the

citadel, began to yield to despair. The numbers of the enemy and their

strong position rendered the relief of the place impossible without

the aid of a powerful army; but Hernan Perez del Pulgar, with seventy

lances, cut his way through the lines, and his arrival infused new

energy into the despondent minds of the besieged. Again and again the

Moorish battalions were repulsed; there was no time for the employment

of the slow but more certain operations of artillery; intelligence

reached the Moslems that Ferdinand was approaching; and Boabdil, after

a rapid and inglorious retreat, found safety within the walls of his

capital. The unexpected spirit displayed by the Moorish King aroused

the martial ardor of the Mudejares, who had so recently renounced their

allegiance to Al-Zagal, and were eager to cast off the yoke which they

had assumed from necessity. Communication was secretly opened between

the malcontents of Guadix, Almeria, Baza, and the Moslem court; many

recruits from these and other cities enlisted in the army of Granada;

and preparations for a conspiracy were inaugurated which only awaited a

propitious moment to burst forth into a general and bloody insurrection.

It was impossible to preserve a secret known to whole communities, and,

informers being abundant among the Moors, it was not long before full

details of the plot were in possession of the Spanish authorities. As

practically all of the Mudejares were implicated, either as active

participants or as sympathizers, it was not considered advisable to

inflict the extreme severity of punishment that the case demanded, so

milder, but fully as effective, measures were decided upon. Guadix

was the centre of the disaffection, and the Marquis of Villena,

Captain-General of the district, induced all the inhabitants of that

city to gather outside the walls under pretext of an enumeration.

He then closed the gates, acquainted them with the reason for this

precaution, and ordered them to await the arrival of the King.

When Ferdinand came, a few days subsequently, he declared that the

unfortunate people of Guadix had forfeited their claims to protection

or clemency, and he gave them the alternative of immediate exile

or a tributary residence in his dominions in open and unfortified

villages. The same rigorous terms were offered to Baza and Almeria;

a large emigration to Tlemcen and Fez took place; a considerable

number of industrious Moors established themselves in Andalusia, where

the Inquisition eventually visited its tortures upon them or their

descendants; and thus, without the least effort or even apparent

formality of confiscation, the rich possessions of the Moors--their

elegant villas, their plantations and vineyards, their sumptuous

residences, mosques, and gardens--passed into the rapacious hands of

the Christians.

The mountaineer subjects of Al-Zagal regarded with anything but

approval his renunciation of his rights of sovereignty and the zeal

he displayed in the service of the national enemy. After the capture

of Alhendin they rebelled, declared for Boabdil, and attempted the

murder of the venerable monarch whom in the day of his glory they had

honored with almost the reverence due to a divinity. Al-Zagal, well

aware of what the consequences would be if he remained, signified

his willingness to surrender the paltry dignity he had received in

exchange for his abdication for five million maravedis and free

transportation to Africa, which had been among the conditions of the

treaty. Ferdinand eagerly accepted his proposition; the Moslem prince

with a great following passed the sea; and thus the Spanish monarchy

not only acquired a considerable increase of territory, but was

delivered from a vassal who lacked only the provocation, which might at

any time arise, to prove a most dangerous enemy. Nothing in mediæval

history is more sad than the ultimate fate of this brave old warrior

who had faced death with undaunted spirit on a hundred fields of

battle. The perfidious Sultan of Fez, in ruthless violation of the laws

of hospitality, plundered, imprisoned, and blinded him. The dashing

general, who had once been the idol of the populace of Granada and the

pride of its soldiery, wandered for many years a beggar, clad in rags,

through the cities of Northern Africa, an object of pity and curiosity

to the rabble of the Desert, by whom he was pointed out to strangers as

the former King of Andalusia.

It was at this time that the Quixotic personage Pulgar, whose reckless

spirit delighted in the achievement of hazardous undertakings, which,

to men of rational judgment, seemed foolhardy and impracticable,

performed the most noted and perilous of all his feats. With fifty

followers he set out one night from Alhama to burn the city of Granada.

Guided by a faithful renegade, the party remained concealed during

the day in an obscure and unfrequented valley of the sierra, and, as

darkness came on, they silently approached the walls enclosing the

channel of the Darro until they reached a bridge. Under this, six

were detailed to remain and guard the horses, while Pulgar and the

others entered the city. The Moslem capital was plunged in slumber,

and the adventurers, issuing from a sewer into the silent streets,

proceeded to the principal mosque. There Pulgar, in a characteristic

spirit of bravado, unfolded a paper on which was inscribed the legend,

“Ave Maria,” and pinned it with his dagger to the bronze-plated door.

Then hastening to the Alcaiceria, or Silk-Market, he produced a fagot

with which he was provided and prepared to start the conflagration.

At the last moment, it was discovered that the tinder, indispensable

for this purpose, had been left at the mosque. While trying to strike

fire with flint and steel, a patrol suddenly appeared. The Spaniards,

drawing their swords, drove back the enemy, and, retiring to the spot

where they had left their companions, all rode rapidly away. This

exploit of Pulgar, which appealed so strongly to the romantic natures

of his countrymen, gained for him also the admiring commendation of

his sovereigns, who granted him during his lifetime the seat of honor

in the cathedral choir, and at his death placed his tomb upon the very

spot where he knelt to plant his dagger in the door of the great Moslem

temple.

Everything now being in readiness for the final campaign, Ferdinand,

on the twentieth of April, 1491, at the head of fifty thousand men in

two grand divisions, again entered the Vega. The Marquis of Villena

was despatched to the Alpujarras to destroy the provisions collected

there for the use of the capital. Then the army went into permanent

quarters in an intrenched camp near Granada, where it was soon joined

by the Queen. On account of its great population, as well as the

desire to preserve as mementos of conquest its splendid architectural

monuments, it had been determined to reduce the city by famine.

Parties were organized to scour the country in every direction and

cut off all supplies. Frequent expeditions, made in force, swept for

a radius of many miles every trace of verdure from the face of the

land. The beautiful suburbs, which had hitherto been exempt from

hostile violence, now became a prey to the ruthless destroyer. In vain,

Boabdil, charging at the head of his cavalry, endeavored to stay his

resistless progress. His soldiers were repulsed; his guard was cut to

pieces; and he himself only escaped the evils of a second and a more

disastrous captivity through the superior swiftness of his horse. The

orchards and vineyards on the western side of the city were laid waste,

and all the buildings within reach of the Spaniards--castles, mills,

villas, palaces, and towers--were involved in one common destruction.

Two months after the resumption of hostilities, the carelessness

of a servant of the royal household set fire to a tent; and the

conflagration caused by the accident swept away in a few moments the

entire Christian camp. Great confusion ensued; the troops were called

to arms, and means at once taken to repel an attack should one be

attempted; but the enemy remained quietly behind his defences. Any

fallacious hopes that might have arisen in the minds of the Moors as a

result of this catastrophe were soon dissipated. A substantial city,

regularly laid out and fortified, guarded by ditches and gates, and

provided with an ample square in the centre for the parade and exercise

of troops, soon rose upon the site of the ruined encampment, and was

named, with the characteristic piety of its founders, Santa Fé.

The siege of Granada, while one of the most important in the history

of the Reconquest, was not, like many others, diversified by any

incidents of absorbing interest. An occasional skirmish with indecisive

results; a foray and the burning of some isolated castle; a chivalric

encounter of knights challenged by mortal defiance; a perpetual

succession of rounds and patrols,--such were the monotonous events

which characterized the investment of the last Moslem stronghold.

Every reliance was placed upon the blockade, and the use of heavy

ordnance was not adopted at any time in the reduction of the city.

The intrepidity of the Moslems was never more conspicuous than in

this their final struggle for national existence. The rapid and

terrifying evolutions, the wild and furious charge, the unsuspected and

treacherous ambuscade peculiar to their tactics, were all employed

with audacious courage and crafty resource, but with indifferent

success. Before long, the great multitude within the walls began to

experience the agonies of hunger. With want came discontent; with

discontent, clamorous demands for capitulation, and ominous murmurs

of sedition and violence. The infuriated populace swarmed in the

public places, threatening the wealthy with pillage and the monarch

with death. The prospect of the triumph of the odious infidel aroused

the fanaticism of the santons, who, counselling resistance to the

end, communicated their frenzy to their superstitious followers,

thus vastly increasing the difficulties of the situation. Outside

of the citadel anarchy reigned supreme. The doors of all the shops

and houses were closed and barricaded. The nobles and the principal

citizens took refuge in the Alhambra; and there an assembly of all

those of conspicuous dignity and influence was held to determine on the

course to be pursued. The vote was unanimous in favor of submission.

Boabdil acquiesced in silence; and Abul-Kasim, the governor of the

city, was deputed to visit the Christian camp in the character of

envoy and open negotiations relative to surrender. Received with

every mark of courtesy, the Moorish ambassador obtained at once the

concession of a truce of thirty days’ duration from the first day of

December. The articles of capitulation were much more liberal than

any heretofore granted to the vanquished Moslems, but in their scope

and significance there was a general similarity. Rendered wise by

experience, the Moors endeavored to have the treaty guaranteed by

the Pope, and its observance sworn to by the Spanish monarchs; but

the omission of these doubtful warrants of security was obtained by

the bribery of their commissioners, who quietly and successfully

ignored the instructions of their countrymen. In consideration of

the delivery of Granada and its surrounding territory, the Catholic

sovereigns bound themselves and their royal descendants to forever

permit the Moors to practise without molestation or injury the rites of

their faith and the observances prescribed by their customs and their

laws. Their mosques were to be always consecrated to their worship,

and their sanctity was to be inviolate and never profaned by the

presence of a misbeliever. All regulations relative to the collection

of revenues for sacred purposes were to continue in force; Moslem

judges were to preside in the tribunals; and the laws which governed

the transfers of real property, as well as those of inheritance and

every form of civil rights, were to remain unaltered. In regard to

public instruction, absolute independence was solemnly guaranteed,

and the interference of Christians with schools or with anything

pertaining thereto was prohibited. Unqualified liberty of conscience

was conceded to the children of mingled Spanish and Moorish blood;

all debts and obligations previously incurred were to be faithfully

discharged and all penalties exacted; disputes between Christian and

Moslem were to be settled amicably by arbitration; and the alguazils

and other executive officers appointed under the Moslem code were to

discharge, without interruption, their various and respective duties.

In other articles were embodied sanitary and police regulations,--the

distinction of markets, the preservation and purity of the waters, and

numerous matters of inferior importance arising from the dissimilarity

of social customs and the wide divergence exhibited by the forms and

ceremonies of two irreconcilable religions. In addition to these were

certain provisions defining the rights and privileges conferred upon

Boabdil and his relatives, and the enumeration of the possessions

they were hereafter to enjoy. As a return for the invaluable services

he had rendered his enemies at the expense of his country, the

richest portions of the royal patrimony, embracing twelve extensive

districts, were declared to be vested in perpetuity in himself and his

descendants; all the members of his family received large estates; the

Valley of Purchena was allotted to him as the principality for which he

was to render homage; and an ample pension was added by the apparent

gratitude or suspicious generosity of the conquerors.

On the second day of January, 1492, preparations were made for the

relinquishment of the last vestige of Moslem power in the Spanish

Peninsula. Seven hundred and eighty years had elapsed since the army

of Tarik had shattered and overthrown the crumbling fabric of the

Visigothic monarchy. As a result of that event, a handful of despised

and neglected peasants, hidden in the mist-clad mountains of the North,

had formed a nucleus around which had clustered the elements of a

great nation and the fame and prestige of an invincible soldiery. The

conquest just achieved, important as it was, was still but trifling

in comparison with those which, in the succeeding century, were to

be gained by the arms of that far-famed and chivalrous nation. The

wealth of the Spanish Arabs was insignificant when contrasted with

the incalculable treasures of Mexico and Peru. The capture of Malaga

and Granada was almost inappreciable in national glory and political

effect when compared with the battle of Pavia or the siege and sack

of Rome. But it was still a magnificent triumph; the culmination of

centuries of battle; the realization of the dreams of many generations

of princes and prelates, the accomplishment of whose aims seemed often

chimerical and hopeless. Every circumstance was called into play,

every resource adopted, to make the spectacle of the rendition of the

Moslem capital imposing and memorable. The entire army was drawn up in

military array. The field was gay with waving banners, burnished armor,

many-colored mantles, and surcoats of silk and cloth of gold. All the

splendid chivalry of Castile were present; some, representatives of

ancient and illustrious houses who traced their lineage back to the

court of Roderick; others, whose patents of nobility of more recent

date had been won in long and honorable warfare against the infidel.

Among these were to be seen the white turban and striped burnous of the

Arab, who would have resented the epithets of traitor and renegade,

but who, actuated by inherited prejudice or tribal jealousy, had not

hesitated to draw his sword against his brethren. Not less conspicuous

than the nobles were the prelates, in full canonicals, preceded by

Cardinal Mendoza, Primate of Spain, one of whose attendants bore the

massive cross, still preserved in the Cathedral of Toledo, soon to be

raised, symbolizing the triumph of Christian over Moorish superstition,

on the loftiest tower of the Alhambra. The heralds who preceded the

royal escort were dressed in tabards emblazoned with the arms of

Castile and Leon in silver, gold, and scarlet. In the centre of a

brilliant group came Isabella, attired in rich brocade and mounted upon

a white palfrey, whose housings of embroidered velvet swept the ground.

There, too, was Ferdinand, proud, stern, impassive; his stolid

features bearing no evidence of the exultation he must have felt,

yet willing to concede to his martial consort the larger portion of

the credit attaching to the crowning glory of the Christian cause.

Around the monarchs were assembled the princes of the blood, the great

dignitaries of the realm in their robes and bearing their insignia

of office, the haughty grandees, the female members of the Queen’s

household in splendid costumes and glittering jewels, the famous

warriors whose prowess had made their names familiar to every nation

in Europe,--sheathed in polished steel, with lance and buckler, with

pennon and heraldic device,--in all a picture worthily representing the

pomp and the magnificence, the pride and the renown, of the Spanish

monarchy. As the splendid procession swept forward amidst the blare of

trumpets, the strains of martial music, the waving of banners, and the

tumultuous applause of thousands, and halted on an elevation near the

Genil, a gate of the Alhambra swung slowly open. From it issued a band

of horsemen, whose appearance and dress indicated that their origin and

customs were foreign to the continent of Europe. At their head rode

a cavalier encased in armor exquisitely damascened, and whose fair

complexion and tawny beard offered a striking contrast to the swarthy

features of those who formed his retinue. The latter were clothed in

flowing robes of silk woven in stripes of every hue, revealing, when

moved by the morning breeze, shining coats of mail and scimetars set

with gems and inlaid with gold.

The interview of the sovereigns was short and almost devoid of

ceremony. Obsequious to the last, Boabdil attempted to dismount and

kiss the hand of his conqueror, but the Spanish King, with generous

and unaffected courtesy, prevented this act of voluntary abasement,

insisted on his remaining mounted, and received the kiss upon his

sleeve. With a few words, which betrayed the bitterness of his

mortification and anguish, the Moslem prince surrendered the keys of

the city to Ferdinand. He gave them to Isabella, and she, in turn,

transferred these evidences of possession and sovereignty to the Count

of Tendilla, who had been appointed Governor of Granada. The latter,

with many nobles as escort and a garrison of five thousand men, without

delay entered and took possession of the Alhambra, and raised upon

the tower of Comares the gold and silver cross of the Archiepiscopate

of Toledo, the royal ensign, and the consecrated standard of Santiago.

The appearance of the sacred emblem and the familiar banners upon the

battlements of the Moorish citadel aroused the wildest enthusiasm

among the spectators. The priests of the royal chapel chanted the Te

Deum Laudamus. Thousands of gray and battle-scarred veterans fell upon

their knees and wept for joy. The heralds, in all the magnificence of

their striking costumes, made proclamation, by sound of trumpet, that

the authority of the Moslems had forever vanished from the Peninsula

in the words, “Castilla! Castilla! Granada! Granada! por los reyes

Don Fernando y Doña Isabel?” The stately Castilian nobles, in the

glittering panoply of war, one after another, then came forward, knelt

before Isabella, and kissed her hand in homage for her newly acquired

dignity as Queen of Granada.

Followed by the principal Moorish officials, some of whom, including

the vizier, were secret renegades and in the pay of Ferdinand, Boabdil

retired to his dominions in the Alpujarras. Even there he was not

destined to remain long in tranquillity. Subjected to ceaseless

espionage, his every word and action were reported to Hernando de

Zafra, secretary of the Catholic monarchs. Despite his apparent apathy,

his presence was considered a menace to the public peace, especially

when the discontent arising from open violations of the treaty began

to be manifested. Emissaries were sent to attempt the purchase of

his estates and to suggest the probable dangers of insurrection, as

contrasted with the advantages of voluntary exile. This failing of

success, a bolder plan was resolved upon. The false vizier, Ibn-Comixa,

was induced to assume an authority which he did not possess, to sell

to the Spanish Crown the possessions of the princes of the Moorish

dynasty of Granada, and to even stipulate, in detail, the time and

manner of their departure from Spain. The price this corrupt and

treacherous agent received for his services was never known. The

rights of Boabdil and his family thus were disposed of, without their

consent, for the paltry sum of twenty-one thousand doubloons of gold.

When apprised by his unblushing minister of the manner in which he had

been betrayed, he drew his sword, and Ibn-Comixa only saved his life by

instant flight. The unfortunate prince well knew who had suggested the

employment of this ignoble and perfidious artifice, and that it would

be dangerous, as well as useless, to attempt to repudiate a measure

which, dictated by cunning, would certainly be enforced by violence. He

therefore ratified the spurious contract, received in exchange for his

estates and all claims upon the crown nine millions of maravedis; and,

on the fourteenth of October, 1493, sailed with all his household for

Africa, where the Sultan of Fez had offered him an asylum. Thirty-four

years afterwards he fell in battle, fighting bravely in the service of

his benefactor against the savage mountaineers of the Atlas. His body,

never recovered, remained unburied in the Desert, under a strange sky,

far from the scene of his early triumphs, his misfortunes, and his

disgrace.

Thus ended the implacable contest waged by Christian and Moslem so long

and so desperately in the southwestern corner of Europe. To the heroic

queen of Ferdinand is to be attributed the success of the last campaign

of that portentous struggle. It was her administrative ability that

regulated the internal affairs of the kingdom, suppressed lawlessness,

established order, restored public confidence, developed the resources

and consolidated the strength of a powerful and warlike nation. Her

martial genius was ever with the army, whether encouraging it by her

presence on the march or collecting and transporting supplies over

mountain paths beset by bold and cunning enemies; ever animating the

living, ever aiding and consoling the relatives of the dead. She was

universally recognized as the head and front of the crusade; every

opinion was tacitly subordinated to her judgment; her advice was sought

in all important undertakings; her cheerful personality brought courage

and enthusiasm to the disheartened camp; her masculine spirit did not

shrink from participation in the exposure of a reconnoissance or from

the certain and omnipresent dangers of the field of battle. In the

closing scenes of the eventful drama hers was the prominent figure. On

the day of the capitulation, she alone carried the sceptre and wore the

crown, tacitly belying the motto, “Tanto Monta,” which admitted the

equality of Aragon; it was her hand which bestowed the keys of the city

and the authority of governor on her hereditary vassal, the Count of

Tendilla; it was “Castile” that the heralds proclaimed from the highest

battlements of the palace; it was not before the politic craft of

Ferdinand that the haughty aristocracy of the North bowed with profound

and graceful obeisance in acknowledgment of the sovereignty of a newly

conquered realm, but before the eminent talents, the earnest piety,

the affable but majestic and ever impressive dignity of Isabella the

Catholic, Queen of Castile and Granada.

END OF VOLUME II.

Transcriber’s Notes:

1. Obvious printers’, punctuation and spelling errors have been

corrected silently.

2. Where hyphenation is in doubt, it has been retained as in the

original.

3. Some hyphenated and non-hyphenated versions of the same words have

been retained as in the original.

4. Italics are shown as _xxx_.