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CHRONICLE 
 
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 CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 FBOU THE USS. OF FB&Y ANTOMIO AGAPIDA. 
 
 
 TO WHICH IS ADDSD 
 
 /^/t?i 
 
 ^^^;- 
 
 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUBfti^J()| SPAIN. 
 
 / 
 
 BT 
 
 WASHINGTON IRVING. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON: 
 HENRY G. BOHN, YORK STREET, COVBNT GARDEN. 
 
 1850. 
 
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 ^ lomdor: 
 
 rSIMTBD BT BABRItOK AMD ION, 
 ST. UABTIM'S hiXK. 
 
 1 
 
 ..JI^APSIlWiM ' HV 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 AxTHOuflH the following chronicle bears the nam«i0|ki||0 
 venerable Fray Antonio Agapida, it is more properly a mpn^ 
 structure reared upon the fragments which remain of his 
 work. It may be asked, who is this same Agapida, who is 
 cited with sudx deference, yet whose name is not to be found 
 in any of the catalogues of Spanish authors ? The question is 
 hard to answer : he appears to have been one of the many in- 
 defatigable writers who have filled the libraries of the convents 
 and cathedrals of Spain with their tomes, without ever dream- 
 ing of bringing their labours to the press. He evidently was 
 deeply and accurately informed of the particulars of the wars 
 between his countrymen and the Moors, a tract of history but 
 too much overgrown with the weeds of fable. His glowing 
 zeal, also, in the cause of the Catholic faith, entitles him to be 
 held up as a model of the good old orthodox chroniclers, who 
 recorded, with such pious exultation, the united triimiphs of 
 the cross and the sword. It is deeply to be regretted, there- 
 fore, that his manuscripts, deposited in the libraries of various 
 convents, have been'dispersed during the late conmlsions in 
 Spain, so that nothing is now to be met of them bu; lu^ointed 
 fragments. These, however, are too precious to be suffered to 
 fall into oblivion, as they contain many curious facts not to 
 be found in any other historian. In the following work* 
 therefore, the manuscripts of the worthy Fray Antonio will be 
 adopted, whenever they exist entire, but wiU be filled up, 
 extended, illustrated, and corroborated, by citations from 
 various authors, both Spanish and Arabian, who have treated 
 of the subject. The manuscripts themselves are carefully 
 preserved in the library of the Escurial. 
 
 Before entering upon the history, it may be as well to 
 notice the opinions of certain of the most learned and devout 
 
IV 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 historiographers of former times relative to this war. Marinus 
 Siculus, historian to Charles the Fifth, pronounces it a war to 
 avenge the ancient injuries received by the Chiistians from 
 the Moors, to recover the kingdom of Granada, and to extend 
 the name and honour of the Christian religion.* 
 
 Estevan de Garibay, one of the most distinguished among 
 the Spanish historians, regards the war as a special act of 
 divine clemency towards the Moors ; to the end, that those 
 barbarians and infidels, who had dragged out so many centuries 
 under the diabolical oppression of the absurd sect of Mahomet, 
 should at length be reduced to the Christian faith.f 
 
 Padre Mariana, also, a venerable Jesuit, and the most re- 
 nowned historian of Spain, considers the past domination of 
 the Moors as a scoiu-ge inflicted on the Spanish nation for its 
 iniquities ; but the triumphant war with Granada as the 
 reward of Heaven, for its great act of propitiation in establish- 
 ing the glorious tribimal of the Inquisition ! " No sooner," 
 says the worthy father, " was this holy office opened in Spain, 
 than there instantly shone forth a resplendent light. Then 
 it was, that, through divine favour, the nation increased in 
 power, and became competent to overthrow and trample down 
 the domination of the Moors."t 
 
 Having thus cited high and venerable authority for consi- 
 dering this war in the light of one of those pious enterprises 
 denominated crusades, we trust we have said enoiigh to 
 engage the Christian reader to follow us into the field, and to 
 stand by us to the very issue of the contest. 
 
 * Lucio Marino Siculo, Cosas Memoriabiles de Espafia, lib. xx. 
 t Qaribay, Gompend. Hist. Espafta, lib. xviii. c. 22. 
 t Mariana, Hist. Espafla, lib. xxv. c. 1. 
 
i^r 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 Chap. L— of the kingdom of Oranada and the tribute which it 
 paid to the Castilian crown . . . .1 
 
 CHAP. n. — How the Catholic sovereigns sent to demand arrears of 
 tribute from the Moor, and how the Moor replied . 4 
 
 CHAP. ni. — How the Moor determined to strike the first blow in 
 the war . . . . . . . . . .7 
 
 CHAP. IV. — Expedition of Muley Aben Hassan against the for- 
 tress of Zahara ...... 9 
 
 CHAP. y. — Expedition of the Marquis of Cadiz against Alhama . 12 
 
 CHAP. YI.— 'How the people of Granada were affected on hearing 
 of the capture of Alhsmoa, and how the Moorish king sallied 
 forth to regain it . . . . . .10 
 
 CHAP. Vn.— How the Duke of Medina Sidonia and the chivalry 
 of Andalusia hastened to the relief of Alhama . . 25 
 
 CHAP. Vni.— Sequel of the events at Alhama . . .28 
 
 CHAP. IX.— Events at Granada, and rise of the Moorish king 
 Boabdil el Chico . . . . . .32 
 
 CHAP. X. — Royal expedition against Loxa . . .35 
 
 CHAP. XI. — How Muley Aben Hassan made a foray into the lands 
 of Medina Sidonia, and how he was received . . .41, 
 
 CHAP. XII. — Foray of the Spanish cavaliers among the moimtains 
 of Malaga . . . . . . .47 
 
 CHAP. XIII. — Effects of the disasters among the mountains of 
 Malaga . . . . . . .67 
 
 CHAP. XIV.— How King Boabdil el Chico marched over the 
 border . . . . . . .60 
 
 CHAP. XV.— How the Count de Cabra sallied forth from his castle, 
 in quest of King Boabdil . . . . » 62 
 
Ti 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Pag« 
 CHAP. XYI.— The battle of Lucena . . . .67 
 
 CHAP. XVII. — Lamentatioiu of -the Moon for the battle of Lucena 72 
 
 CHAP. XYIII.— How Muley Aben Hassan profited by the mis- 
 fortunes of his son Boabdil . . . . .75 
 
 CHAP. XIZ.— Captivitj of Boabdil el Chico . . , 76 
 
 CHAP. XX.— Of the treatment of Boabdil by the GastiHan B«ve* 
 reigns • • . . . . .79 
 
 CHAP. XXI.— Return «f Boabdil from csptlrily . . 82 
 
 CHAP. XXn.— Foray of the Mootidi aloaydea, and battle of 
 Lopera - • . • • . . . .86 
 
 CHAP. XXjn.— Betreat of Hamet el Zegri, alcayda of Bonda . 98 
 
 CHAP. XXIY. — Of the high and ceremonious reception at court 
 of the Count de Oafara and the Alcayde de loa Donzeles . M 
 
 CHAP. XXY. — Ho<w the Marquis of Cadiz concerted to auipriae 
 Zahara^ and the ragilt of his enterprise . . .99 
 
 CHAP. XXYI.— Of the fortress of Alhama ; and how wisely it was 
 governed 1^ the Count de Tendilla . . . . lOS 
 
 CHAP. XXYII.— Foray of Christian knights into the territories 
 of the Moors ...... 108 
 
 CHAP. XXYIU.— Attempt of El Zagal to surprise Boabdil in 
 Almeria ....... lU 
 
 CHAP. XXIX.— How King Ferdinand commenced another cam- 
 paign against the-Moors, and how he laid siege to Coin and 
 Cartama . . . . ^ « . 14.5 
 
 CHAP. XXX.— Siege of Ronda. 
 
 119 
 
 CHAP. XXXI.— How tte people of Granada inrited 11 Zagal to 
 the throne; and bow he marched to the ci^ital . . . 128 
 
 CHAP. XXXn.— How the Count de (Mm, attempted -to captnr* 
 another king, and how he fared in his attempt . 127 
 
 CHAP. XXXin.— EKpeditioQ agdnit tbe <oaBtles of Cambll anl 
 Albahar . . . • . . . . . 182 
 
 CHAP. XXXI Y.--Jkterpgdn of the kughto nf OalatEna agiiut 
 oaiea .. •• .. .. • • .. 188 
 
COWTBKTS. 
 
 CHAP. XXXT.— Death of old Mnlej Aben Ha 
 
 Vll 
 
 Pago 
 . 141 
 
 CHAP. XXXYI.— Of the Christian anny, wfaidi a«wsnbled at the 
 city of Cordova ...... 143 
 
 CHAP. XXXYII. — How fresh commotions broke out in Oiaiiada» 
 and how the people undertook to allay them . .148 
 
 CHAP. XXXYIIL— How King Ferdinand held a council of war 
 at the Rock of the Lovers ..... 150 
 
 CHAP. XXXIX. — How the royal army appeared before the city 
 of Loza, and how it was received, and of the doughty achieve- 
 ments of the English earl ..... 153 
 
 CHAP. XL. — Conclusion of the siege of Loxa . 
 CHAP. XLI.— Capture of Dion . «. 
 
 . 167 
 . 159 
 
 CHAP. XLH. — Of the arrival of Queen Isabella at the camp before 
 Moclin, and of the pleasant sayings of the English earl . 161 
 
 CHAP. XLIIL— How King Ferdinand attacked Moclin, and of 
 the strange events that attended its capture . . . 194 
 
 CHAP. XLIY.— How King Ferdinand foraged thevega; and of 
 the fate of the two Moorish brothers . . . 168 
 
 CHAP. XLY.— Attempt of El Zagal upoa the life of BoabdU; 
 and how the latter was roused to action . . . 173 
 
 CHAP. XLY.* — How Boabdil returned secretly to Gnmada ; and 
 how he was received . . . . . 175 
 
 CHAP. XLYL^How King Ferdinand laid siege to Yelez Mahiga 177 
 
 CHAP. XLYIL— How King Ferdinand and his army were ex- 
 posed to imminent peril before Yelez Malaga . . 184 
 
 CHAP. XLYIIL— Besult of the stratagem of £1 2&igal to Baipriae 
 King Ferdinand ...... 18S 
 
 CHAP. XLDL: — How the people of Granada rewarded the valonr 
 of El Zagal . . . . . .191 
 
 CHAP. L.— Surrender of Yelez Malaga, and other places • liliS 
 
 CHAP. LI.— Of the city «f Malaga and its inhabitants . ^ 19S 
 
VUl 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. LII. — Advance of King Ferdinand against Malaga 
 CHAP. Llll.-Siege of Malaga. 
 
 Page 
 
 , 200 
 
 204 
 
 CHAP. LIV, — Siege of Malaga continued. Obstinacy of Hamct 
 el Zegri . . . . . . .206 
 
 CHAP. LV. — Attack of the Marquis of Cadiz upon Gibralfaro 
 
 208 
 
 CHAP. IjVI. — Siege of !Malaga continued. Stratagems of various 
 
 kinds ....... 210 
 
 CHAP. LVII.— Sufferings of the people of Malaga 
 
 . 213 
 
 CHAP, LVIII, — How a Moorish santon undertook to deliver the 
 city of Malaga from the power of its enemies . .216 
 
 CHAP. LIX. — How Hamct el Zegri was hardened in his obstinacy 
 by the arts of a Moorish astrologer .... 219 
 
 CHAP. LX.— Siege of Malaga continued. Destruction of a tower 
 by Francisco Ramirez de ^Madrid .... 222 
 
 CHAP. LXI. — How the people of Malaga expostulated with 
 Hamet cl Zegri ...... 223 
 
 CHAP. LXII. — How Hamct el Zegri sallied forth, with the sacred 
 banner, to attack the Christian camp . . . 226 
 
 CHAP. LXllI. — TIow the city of Malaga capitulated 
 
 . 229 
 
 CHAP. LXl v.— Fulfilment of the prophecy of the dcrviso. Fato 
 of Hamet cl Zegri . . . . . .233 
 
 CHAP. LXV. — How the Castilian sovereigns took possession of 
 the city of Malaga, and how King Ferdinand signalized him- 
 Hcif by his skill in bargaining with the inhabitants for their 
 ransom ....... 284 
 
 CHAP. LXVI. — How King Ferdinand prepared to carry the war 
 into a different part of the territories of the Moors . . 289 
 
 CHAP. LXVII. — How King Ferdinand invaded the eastern side 
 of the kingdom of Qranada ; and how he was received by £1 
 Zagal .213 
 
 CHAP. LXVIII. — How the Moors made various enterprises 
 against the Chriitti&ns ..... 246 
 
<. 
 
 
 A CHRONICLE \ \ i\ 
 
 OF THE 
 
 CONQUEST OF GKA 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The history of those desperate and bloody wars, observes 
 Fray Antonio Agapidu, which have filled the world with 
 rumour and astonishment, and have determined the fate of 
 mighty empires, has ever been considered as a theme worthy 
 of the pen of the philosopher and the study of the sage. 
 What then must be the history of a holy war, or rather, a 
 pious crusado, waged by the most catholic of sovereigns, for 
 the restoration of the light of the true faith to one of the 
 most beautiful but benighted regions of the globe ? Listen, 
 then, while from the solitude of my cell I nairate the events 
 of the conquest of Granada, where Christian knight and tur- 
 baned infidel disputed hand to hand every inch of the fair 
 land of Andalusia, until the crescent, that symbol of hea- 
 thenish abomination, was cast into the dust, and the blessed 
 cross, the tree of our redemption, erected in its stead. 
 
 Upwards of eight hundred years were past and gone since 
 the Arabian invaders sealed the perdition of 8puin, by the 
 defeat of Don Roderick, the last of her Gothic kings. From 
 the period of that disastrous event, kingdom after kingdom 
 had been gradiully recovered by the Christian princes, until 
 the single, but powerful, territory of Granada alone remained 
 under the domination of the Moors. 
 
 This renowned kingdom was situate in the southern part of 
 Spain, bordering on the Mediterranean Sea, and defended on 
 the land side by lofty and rugged mountains, locking up 
 within their embraces, deep, rich, and verdant valleys, where 
 the sterility of the surrounding heights was repaid by prodigal 
 fertility. 
 
 The city of Oranada lav in the centre of the kingdom, 
 sheltered as it were in the lap of the Sierra Nevada, or chain 
 of snowy mountains. It covered two lofty hills, and a deep 
 
 f^ 
 
2 THE CONQUEST OF GRVXADA. 
 
 valley that divides them, through which flows the river Darro. 
 One of these hills was crowned by the royal palace and for- 
 tress of the Alhambra. capable of containing forty thousand 
 men within its walls and towers. There is a Moorish tradi- 
 tion, that the king who built this raij^hty pile was skilled in 
 the occult sciences, and furnished himself with gold and 
 silver for the purpose by means of alchymy.* Certainly 
 never was there an edifice accomplished in a superior style of 
 barbaric magnificence; and the stranger who, even at the 
 present day, wanders among its silent and deserted courts and 
 ruined halls, gazes with astonishment at its gilded and fretted 
 domes and luxurious decorations, still retaining their bril- 
 liancy and beauty, in defiance of the ravages of time. 
 
 Opposite to the hill on which stood the Alhambra was its 
 rival hill, on the summit of which was a spacious plain, 
 covered ^vith houses, and crowded with inhabitants. It was 
 commanded by a fortress called the Alcazaba. The declivities 
 and skirts of these hills were covered with houses to the 
 number of seventy thousand, separated by narrow streets and 
 small squares, according to the custom of Moorish cities. 
 The houses had interior courts and gardens, refreshed by 
 fountains and running streams, and set out with oranges, 
 citrons, and pomegranates ; so that, as the edifices of the city 
 rose above each other on the sides of the hill, they presented 
 a mingled appearance of city and grove, delightful to the eye. 
 The whole was surrounded by high walls, three leagues in 
 circuit, with twelve gates, and fortified by a thousand and 
 thirty towers. The elevation of the city, and the neighbour- 
 hood of the Sierra Nevada, crowned with perpetual snows, 
 tempered the fervid rays of summer; and thus, while other 
 cities were panting with the sultry and stifling heat of the 
 dog-days, the most salubrious breezes played through the 
 marble halls of Granada. 
 
 The glory of the city, however, was its vcga, or plain, 
 which spread out to a circumference of thirty-seven leagues, 
 surrounded by lofty mountains. It was a vast garden of 
 delight, refreshed by numerous fountains, and by the silver 
 windings of the Xenil. The labour and ingenuity of the 
 Moors had diverted the waters of this river into thousamds of 
 rills and streams, and diffused them over the whole surface of 
 the plain. Indeed they had wrought up this happy region to 
 
 * Zorits, lib. xz. o. 42. 
 
TRIBUTE TO CASTILIAlff CBOWN. 
 
 a degree of wonderful prosperity, and took a pride in deco- 
 rating it, as if it had been a favourite mistress. The hiii^ 
 were clothed Mrith orchards and vineyards, the valleys em- 
 broidered with gardens, and the wide plains covered with 
 waving grain. Here were seen in profusion the orange, the 
 citron, the fig and pomegranate, with lai^e plantations of 
 mulberry trees, from which was produced the finest of silk. 
 The vine clambered from tree to tree, the grapes hung in rich 
 clusters about the peasant's cottage, and the groves were re- 
 joiced by the pei-petual song of the nightingale. In a word, 
 so beautiful was the earth, so pure the air, and so serene the 
 sky of this delicious region, that the Moors imagined the para- 
 dise of their prophet to be situate in that part of the hearen 
 which overhung the kingdom of Granada. * 
 
 This rich and populous territory had been left in quiet poft- 
 session of the infidels, on condition of an annual tribute to 
 the sovereign of Castile and Leon of two thousand doblas or 
 pistoles of gold, and sixteen hundred Christian captives, or, in 
 defect of captives, an equal number of Moors to be surren- 
 dered as slaves ; all to be delivered in the city of Cordova, f 
 
 At the era at which thin chronicle commences, Ferdinand 
 and Isabella, of glorious and happy memory, reigned over the 
 imited kingdom of Castile, Leon, and Amigon, and Muley 
 Aben Hassan sat on the throne of Granada. 
 
 This Muley Aben Hassan had succeeded to his father 
 Ismael in 1465, while Henry IV., brother and immediate 
 predecessor of Queen Isabella, was king of Castile and Leon. 
 He was of the illustrious lineage of Mohammed Aben Alamar, 
 the first Moorish king of Granada, and was the most potent 
 of his line. He had, in fact, augmented in power in conse- 
 quence of the fall of other Moorish kingdoms, which had been 
 conquered by the Christians. Many cities and strong places 
 of the kingdoms which lay contiguous to Granada had re- 
 fused to submit to Christian vassalage, and had sheltered 
 themselves under the protection of Muley Aben Hassan. His 
 territories had thus increased in wealth, extent, and popula- 
 tion, beyond all former example; and contained fourteen 
 cities, and ninety-seven fortified towns, besides numerous 
 un walled towns and villages, defended by formidable eastles. 
 The spirit of Muley Aben Hassan swelled with his possessions. 
 
 * Junn notcro Benoi, Relaciones UnivorsalM del Mondo. 
 t Oaribav, Compend. lib. iv. e. 20. 
 
 B 2 
 
i 
 
 4 THE CONQUEST OF OBAXADA. 
 
 The tribute of money and captives had been regularly paid 
 by his father Ismael, and Muley Aben Hassan had, on one 
 occasion, attended personally in Cordova at the payment. 
 He had witnessed the taunts and sneers of the haughty Cas- 
 tilians, and so indignant was the proud son of Afric at what 
 he considered a degradation of his race, that his blood boiled, 
 whenever he recollected the humiliating scene. 
 
 When he came to the throne, he ceased all payment of the 
 tribute, and it was sufficient to put him in a transport of rage 
 only to mention it. " He was a fierce and warlike infidel," 
 aays the catholic Frjvy Antonio Agapida ; " his bitterness 
 against the holy Christian faith had been signalized in battle 
 during the lifetime of his father, and the same diabolical 
 spirit of hostility was apparent in his ceasing to pay this most 
 righteous tribute." 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 In the year 1478, a Spanish cavalier of powerful frame 
 and haughty demeanour arrived at the gates of Granada as 
 ambassador from the catholic monarchs, to demand the arrear 
 of tribute. His name was Don Juan de Vera, a zealous and 
 devout knight, full of ardour for the faith and loyalty for the 
 crown. He was gallantly mounted, armed at all points, and 
 followed by a moderate but well-appointed retinue. 
 
 The Moorish inhabitants looked jealously at this small but 
 proud array of Spanish chivalry, as it paraded, with that 
 stateliness possessed only by Spanish cavaliers, through the 
 renowned gate of Elvira. They were struck with the stem 
 and lofty demeanour of Don Juan de Vera, and his sinewy 
 frame, which showed him formed for hardy deeds of arms; 
 and they supposed he had come in search of distinction, by 
 defying the Moorish knights in open tourney, or in the ftunous 
 tilt with reeds for which they were so renowned. For it was 
 still the custom of the knights of cither nation to mingle in 
 these courteous and chivalrous contests, during the intervals 
 of war. When they learned, however, that he was come to 
 demand the tribute so abhorrent to the cars of the fieiy 
 monarch, thoy observed, that it required a warrior of his 
 apparent nerve to execute such an embassy. 
 
 Muley Aben Hassan received the cavalier in state, seated 
 
ABREARS OF TRIBUTE. 
 
 5 
 
 on a mi^ificent divan, and surrounded by the officers of his 
 covirt, in the Hall of Ambassadors, one of the most sumptuous 
 apartments of the Alhambra. When De Vera had delivered 
 his message, a haughty and bitter smile ciu-led the lip of the 
 fierce monarch. " Tell your sovereigns," said he, " that the 
 kings of Granada, who used to pay tribute in money to the 
 Castilian crown, are dead. Our mint at present coins nothing 
 but blades of cimetcrs and heads of lances.*" 
 
 The defiance couched in this proud reply was heard with 
 stem and lofty courtesy by Don Juan de Vera ; for he was a 
 bold soldier, and a devout hater of the infidels, and he saw 
 iron war in the words of the Moorish monarch. He retired from 
 the audience chamber with stately and ceremonious gravity, 
 being master of all points of etiquette As he passed through 
 the Court of Lions, and paused to regard its celebrated foim- 
 tain, he fell into a discourse with the Moorish courtiers on 
 certain mysteries of the Christian faith. The arguments 
 advanced by these infidels, says Fray Antonio Agapida, 
 awakened the pious indignation of this most Christian knight 
 and discreet ambassador, but still he restrained himself within 
 the limits of lofty gravity, leaning on the pommel of his 
 sword, and looking down with ine£Puble scorn upon the weak 
 casuists around him. The qmck and subtle Arabian witlings 
 redoubled their light attacks upon that stately Spaniard, and 
 thought they had completely foiled him in the contest; but 
 the steni Juan de Vera had an argument in reserve, for which 
 they were but little prepared ; for on one of them, of the race 
 of the Abencerrages, diu*ing to question, with a sneer, the 
 immaculate conception of the blessed Virgin, the catholic 
 knight could no longer restrain his ire. Elevating his voice 
 of a sudden, he told the infidel he lied, and raising his arm 
 at the same time, he smote him on the head with his sheathed 
 sword. 
 
 In an instant the Court of Lions glistened with the flash of 
 arms, and its fountains would have been dyed with blood, had 
 not Muley Abcn Hassan overheard the tumult, and forbade all 
 appeal to force, pronoimcing the person of the ambassador 
 sacred, while within his territories. The Abencerrage trea- 
 sured up the remembrance of the insult until an hour of ven- 
 geance should arrive, and the ambassador prayed our blessed 
 
 • Oarilifty, Compcnd. lib. xl. c. 29. Condc, Hist, do loB Arabes* 
 p. iv. c. 34. 
 
6 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBAKADA. 
 
 
 Lady to grant him an opportunity of proving her immaculate 
 conception on the head of this turbaned infidel.* 
 
 Notwithstanding this occurrence, Don Juan de Vera was 
 treated with great distinction by Muley Aben Hassan; but 
 nothing could make him unbend from his stem and stately 
 reserve. Before his departure, a cimeter was sent to him 
 by the king; the blade of the finest Damascus steel; the hilt 
 of agate, enriched with precious stones, and the guard of 
 gold. De Vera drew it, and smiled grimly as he noticed the 
 admirable temper of the blade. *' His majesty has given me 
 a trenchant weapon," said he: "I trust a time will come, 
 when I may show him, that I know how to use his royal pre- 
 sent." The reply was considered as a compliment of course ; 
 the bystanders little knew the bitter hostility that lay couched 
 beneath. 
 
 Don Juan de Vera and his companions, during his brief 
 sojourn at Oranada, scanned the force and situation of the 
 ll^or with the eyes of practised warriors. They saw that he 
 was well prepared for hostilities. His walls and towers were 
 of vast strength, in complete repair, and mounted with lom- 
 bards and other heavy ordnance. His magazines were well 
 stored with all the munitions of war : he had a mighty host 
 of foot soldiers, together with squadrons of cavalry, ready to 
 scour the country, and carry on either defensive or predatory 
 warfare. The Christian warriors noted these things without 
 dismay; their hearts rather glowed with emulation at the 
 thoughts of encountering so worthy a foe. As they slowly 
 pranced through the streets of Granada on their departure, 
 they looked round with eagerness on its stately palaces and 
 sumptuous mosques; on its alcayceria or bazar, crowded 
 with silks and cloth of silver and gold, with jewels and pre- 
 cious stones, and other rich merchandise, the luxuries of 
 pvcry clime; and they longed for the time, when all this 
 wealth should be the spoil of the soldiers of the faith, and 
 when each tramp of their steeds might be fetlock deep in the 
 blood and carnage of the infidels. 
 
 Don Juan de Vera and his little band pursued their way 
 slowly through the country to the Christian frontier. Every 
 
 * The curate of Log Palacios also records this anecdote, but men- 
 tions it as happening on a eubBequcnt occasion, when Don Juan de 
 Vera waa sent to ncgociatc for certain Christian captives. There ap- 
 pears every reason, however, to consider Fray Antonio Agapida correct 
 iu the period to which he refers it. 
 
BEPLT OF THE MOOK. f 
 
 town was strongly fortified. The vega was studded with 
 towers of refuge for the peasantry ; every jmss of the moun- 
 tain had its castle of defence, every lofty height its watch- 
 tower. As the Christian cavaliers passed under the walls of 
 the fortresses, lances and cimeters flashed from their battle- 
 ments, and the turbaned sentinels seemed to dart from their 
 dark eyes glances of hatred and defiance. It was evident, 
 that a war with this kingdom must be one of doughty peril 
 and valiant enterprise; a war of posts, where every step must 
 be gained by toil and bloodshed, and maintained with the 
 utmost difficulty. The warrior spirit of the cavaliers kindled 
 with the thoughts, and they were impatient for hostilities; 
 "not," says ^tonio Agapida, "from any thirst for rapine 
 and revenge, but from that pure and holy indignation, which 
 every Spanish knight entertained at beholding this beautiful 
 dommion of his ancestors defiled by the footsteps of infidel 
 usurpers" ' " It was impossible," he adds, " to contemplate 
 this delicious country, and not long to see it restored to the 
 dominion of the true faith, and the sway of the Christian 
 xnonarchs." 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The defiance, thus hurled at the Castilian sovereigns by 
 ihe fiery Moorish king, would at once have been answered by 
 the thundtr of their artillery, but they were embroiled at that 
 time in a war Avith Portugal, and in contests with their own 
 factious nobles. The truce, therefore, which had existed for 
 many years between the nations, was suffered to continue; 
 the wary Ferdinand reserving the refusal to pay tribute as a 
 £ur ground fur war, whenever the favoiurable moment to wage 
 it should arrive. 
 
 In the course of three years the war with Portugal was 
 terminated, and the factions of the Spanish nobles were for 
 the must part quelled. The Castilian sovereigns now turned 
 their thoughts to what, from the time of the union of their 
 crowns, had been the great object of their ambition, the con- 
 quest of Granada, and the complete extirpation of the Moorish 
 power from Spain. Ferdinand, whose pious zeal was quick- 
 ened by motives of temporal policy, looked with a craving 
 eye at the rich territory of the Moor, studded with innume- 
 rable towns and cities. He determined to cany on the war 
 
J 
 
 
 § THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 with cautious and persevering patience, taking town after 
 town, and fortress after fortress, and gradually plucking awav 
 all the supports, before he attempted the Moorish capital. 
 *' I will pick out the seeds, one by one, of this pomegranate," 
 said the wary Ferdinand.* 
 
 Muley Abcn Hassan was aware of the hostile intentions of 
 the catholic monarch, but felt confident in his means of resist- 
 ing them. He had amassed great wealth during a tranquil 
 reign ; he had strengthened the defences of his kingdom, and 
 had drawn large bodies of auxiliary troops from Barbary, 
 besides making arrangements with the African princes to 
 assist him with supplies in case of cmei^ency. His subjects 
 were fierce of spirit, stout of heart, and valiant of hand. 
 Inured to the exercise of war, they could fight skilfully on 
 foot, but above all were dexterous horsemen, whether heavily 
 armed and fully appointed, or lightly mounted, d la geneta^ 
 with simply lance and target. They were patient of fatigue, 
 htmger, thirst, and nakedness ; prompt for war at the first 
 simimons of their king, and tenacious in defence of their 
 towns and possessions. 
 
 Thus amply provided for war, Muley Aben Hassan deter- 
 mined to be beforehand with the politic Ferdinand, and to be 
 the first to strike a blow. In the truce which existed between 
 them, there was a singular clause, permitting either party to 
 make sudden inroads and assaults upon towns and fortresses, 
 provided they were done furtively and by stratagem, without 
 display of banners, or sotmd of trumpet, or regular encamp- 
 ment, and that they did not last above three days.f This 
 gave rise to frequent enterprises of a hardy and adventurous 
 character, in which castles and strongholds were taken by 
 surprise, and carried sword in hand. A long time had elapsed, 
 however, without any outrage of the kind on the part of the 
 Moors, and the Christian towns on the frontier had all, in 
 consequence, fallen into a state of the most negligent security. 
 
 Muley Abcn Hassan cast his eyes round to select his object 
 of attack, wlien information was brought him that the fortress 
 of Zahara was but feebly garrisoned and scantily supplied, 
 and that its alcayde was careless of his charge. This impor- 
 tant post was on the frontier, between Ronda and Medina 
 
 • Qranada is the Spanish term for pomegranate, 
 t Zurita, Annalca dc Arragon, lib. xx. c. 41. Mariana, Hist de 
 Espafla, lib. xxv. c. 1. 
 
WARLIKE DETKHMITTATION OF THE MOORS. 
 
 9 
 
 Sidonia, and was built on the crest of a rocky mountain, with 
 a strong castle perched above it, upon a cliff so high that it 
 was said to be above the flight, of birds, or drift of clouds. 
 The streets, and many of the houses, were mere excavations, 
 wrought out of the living rock. The town had but one gate» 
 opening to the west, and defended by towers and bulwarks. 
 TTie only ascent to this cragged fortress, was by roads cut in 
 the rock, and so rugged as in many places to resemble broken 
 stairs. Such was the situation of the mountain fortress 
 of Zahara, which seemed to set all attack at defiance, insomuch 
 that it had become so proverbial throughout Spain, that 
 a woman of forbidding and inaccessible virtue was called 
 a Zaharena. But the strongest fortress and sternest virtue 
 have their weak points, and require unremitting vigilance to 
 guard them : let warrior and dame take warning from the 
 fate of Zahara. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 It was in the year of our Lord one thousand four hundred 
 and eighty-one, and but a night or two after the festival 
 of the most blessed .Nativity, that Muley Abeu Hassan made 
 his famous attack upon Zahara. The inhabitants of the place 
 were sunk in profound sleep ; the very sentinel had deserted 
 his post, and sought shelter from a tempest, which had raged 
 for three nights in succession ; for it appeared but little pro* 
 bable, that an enemy would be abroad during such an uproar 
 of the elements. But evil spirits work best during a storm, 
 observes the worthy Antonio Aga])ida ; and Muley Aben 
 Hassen found such a season most suitable for his diabolxal 
 purposes. In the midst of the night, an uproar arose wichin 
 the walls of Zahara, more awful than the raging of the storm. 
 A fearful alarm cry, " The Moor ! the Moor !" resounded 
 through the streets, mingled with the clash of arms, the shriek 
 of anguish, and the shout of victory. Muley Aben Hassan, at 
 the head of a powerful force, had hurried from Granada, and 
 passed xmobserved through the mountains in the obscurity of 
 the tempest. When the storm pelted the sentinel fi'om his 
 post, and howled round tower and battlement, the moors had 
 planted their scaling ladders, and moimted securely into both 
 town and castle. The garrison was unsuspicious of danger 
 until battle and massacre burst forth within its very wdls. 
 
 :M 
 
10 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBA.NADA. 
 
 It seemed to the affrighted inhabitants, as if the fiends of the 
 air had come upon the wings of the wind, and possessed them- 
 selves of tower and turret. The war cry resounded on every 
 side, shout answering shout, above, below, on the battlements 
 of the castle, in the streets of the town; the foe was in 
 all parts, wrapped in obscurity, but acting in concert by the 
 aid of preconcerted signals. Starting from sleep, the soldiers 
 were intercepted, and cut down, as they rushed from their 
 quarters, or, if they escaped, they knew not where to assemble 
 or where to strike. Wherever lights appeared, the flashing 
 cimetcr was at its deadly work, and all who attempted resist- 
 ance fell beneath its edge. 
 
 In a little while, the struggle was at an end. Those who 
 were not slain took refuge in the secret places of their houses, 
 or gave themselves up as captives. The cl .sh of arms ceased, 
 and the storm continued its howling, mingled with the occa- 
 sional shout of the Moorish soldiery, roaming in search 
 of plunder. >Vhile the inhabitants were trembling for 
 their fate, a trumpet resounded through the streets, sum- 
 moning them all to assemble, imarmed, in the public square. 
 Here they were surrounded by soldiery, and strictly guarded 
 until daybreak. When the day dawned, it was piteous 
 to behold this once pK)sperous community, which had lain 
 down to rest in peacefid security, now crowded together 
 without distinction of age, or rank, or sex, and almost without 
 raiment, during the severity of a wintry storm. The fierce 
 Muley Abcn Hassan turned a deaf ear to all their prayers and 
 remonstrances, and ordered them to be conducted captives to 
 Granada. Leaving a strong garrison in both town and castle, 
 with orders to put them in a complete state of defence, he 
 returned, flushed with victory, to his capital, entering it at the 
 head of his troops, laden with spoil, and bearing in triumph 
 the banners and pennons taken at Zahara. 
 
 While preparations were making for jousts and other festi- 
 vities in honour of this victory over the Christian<i, the cap- 
 tives of Zahara arrived; a wretched train of men. women, and 
 children, worn out vvith fatigue, and haggard wtih despair, 
 and driven like cattle into the city gates by a detachment of 
 Moorish soldiery. 
 
 Deep were the grief and indignation of the people of Gra- 
 nada at this cruel scene. Old men, who had experienced the 
 calamities of warfare, anticipated coming troubles. Mothers 
 
EXPEDITION A0AIK8T ZAHABA. 
 
 u 
 
 clasped their infants to their breasts, as they beheld the hap- 
 less females of Zahara, with their children expiring in their 
 arms. On every side the accents of pity for the sufferers wore 
 mingled with execrations of the barbarity of the king. The 
 preparations for festivity were neglected, and the viands, 
 which were to have feasted the conquerors, were distributed 
 among the captives. 
 
 The nobles and alfaquis, however, repaired to the Alhambra 
 to congratulate the king : fbr whatever storm may rage in the 
 lower regions of society, rarely do any clouds, but clouds of 
 incense, rise to the awful eminence of the throne. In this 
 instance, however, a voice rose from the midst of the obse- 
 quious crowd, that burst like thtinder upon the ears of Aben 
 Hassan. "Wo! wo! wo! to Granada!" exclaimed the 
 voice, " its hour of desolation approaches ! The ruins of 
 Zahara will fall upon our heads : my spirit tells me, that the 
 end of our empire is at hand !" All shrunk back aghast, and 
 left the denouncer of wo standing alone in the centre of the 
 hall. He was an ancient and hoary man, in the rude attire of 
 a dervise. Age had withered his form, without quenching 
 the fire of his spirit, which glared in baleful lustre from his 
 eyes. He was, says the Arabian historians, one of those holy 
 men termed santons, who pass their lives in hermitages, in 
 fasting, meditation, and prayer, until they attain to the purity 
 of saints, and the foresight of prophets. " He was," says the 
 indignant Fray Antonio Agapida, " a son of Belial, one of 
 those fanatic infidels possessed of the devil, who are some- 
 times permitted to predict the truth to their followers; 
 but with the proviso, that their predictions shall be of no 
 avail." 
 
 The voice of the santon resounded through the lofty hall of 
 the Alhambra, and struck silence and awe into the crowd of 
 courtly sycophants. Muley Aben Hassan alone was unmoved. 
 He eyed the hoary anchorite with scorn, as he stood dauntless 
 before him, and treated his predictions as the raving of a 
 maniac. The santon rushed from the royal presence, and 
 descending into the city, hurried through its streets and 
 squares with frantic gesticulations. His voice was heard in 
 every part in awful denunciation. " The peace is broken, the 
 
 exterminating war is commenced. Wo ! wo ! wo ! to Gra- 
 nada ! its fall is at hand ! desolation shall dwell in its palaces, 
 its sti'ong men shall fall beneath the sword, its children and 
 
12 
 
 THE CONQUEST OP OBAXADA. 
 
 ^f ■ 
 
 I 
 
 maidens shall be led into captivity ! Zahara is but a type of 
 Granada !" 
 
 Terror seized upon the populace ; for they considered these 
 ravings as the inspirations of j)rophecy. They hid themselves 
 in their dwellings, as in a time of general mourning ; or, if they 
 went abroad, it was to gather together in knots in the streets 
 and squares, to alarm each other with dismal forebodings, and 
 to curse the rashness and cruelty of the fierce Aben Hassan. 
 
 The Moorish monarch heeded not their murmurs. Know- 
 ing that his exploit must draw upon him the vengeance of the 
 Christians, he now threw off all reserve, and made attempts to 
 surprise Castellar and Olvera, though without success. He 
 sent alfaquis, also, to the Barbary powers, informing them, 
 that the sword was draAvn, and inviting them, to aid in main- 
 taining the kingdom of Granada, and the religion of Mahomet, 
 against the violence of unbelievers. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Gbeat was the indignation of King Ferdinand, when he 
 heard of the stoiming of Zahara, more especially as it antici- 
 pated his intention of giving the first blow in this eventful 
 war. He valued himself upon his deep and prudent policy ; 
 and there is nothing which politic monarchs can less forgive, 
 than thus being forestalled by an adversary. He imme- 
 diately issued orders to all the adelantados and alcaydes of the 
 frontiers, to maintain the utmost vigilance at their several 
 posts, and to prepare to carry fire and sword into the territo- 
 ries of the Moors, while he despatched friars of different 
 orders, to stir up the chivalry of Christendom to take part in 
 this holy crusade against the infidels. 
 
 Among the many valiant cavaliers who rallied round the 
 throne of Ferdinand and Isabella, one of the most eminent 
 in rank and renowned in arms was Don Roderigo Ponce de 
 Leon, Marquis of Cadiz. As he was the distinguished cham- 
 pion of this holy war, and commanded in most of its enter- 
 prises and battles, it is meet that some particular account 
 should be given of him. He was bom in 1443, of the valiant 
 lineage of the Ponces, and from his earliest youth had ren- 
 drrcd himself illustrious in the field. He was of the middle 
 stature, with a luuscidar and powerful frame, capable of great 
 exertion and fatigue. His hair and beard were red and 
 
SXPEOITIOK AGAINST ALHAMA. 
 
 13 
 
 curled, his coiintenaucc vraa open and magnanimous, of a 
 ruddy complexion, and slightly iiifirkcd with the smallpox. 
 He was temperate, chaste, valorous, vigilant; a just and gene- 
 rous master to his vassals; frank nnd noble in his deportment 
 towards his equals ; loving and faithful to his friends ; fierce 
 and terrible, yet magnanimous, to his enemies. He was con- 
 sidered the mirror of chivalrj- of his times, and compared by 
 contemporary historians to the immortal Cid. 
 
 The Marquis of Cadiz had vast possessions in the most fer- 
 tile parts of Andalusia, including many towns and castles ; 
 and could lead forth an army into the field from his own vas- 
 sals and dependents. On receiving the orders of the king, 
 he burned to signalize himself by some sudden incursion into 
 the kingdom of Granada, that should give a brilliant com- 
 mencement to the war, and console the sovereigns for the 
 insult they had received on the capture of Zahara. As his 
 estates lay near the Moorish frontiers, and were subject to 
 sudden inroads, he had always in his pay nimibers of adalides, 
 or scouts and guides, many of them converted Moors. These 
 he sent out in all directions, to watch the movements of the 
 enemy, and to procure all kinds of information important to 
 the security of the frontier. One of these spies came to him 
 one day in his town of Marchena, and informed him, that the 
 Moorish town of Alhama was slightly garrisoned, and neg- 
 ligently guarded, and might be taken by surprise. This was 
 a large, wealthy, and populous place, within a few leagues of 
 Granada. It was situate on a rocky height, nearly surrounded 
 by a river, and defended by a fortress, to which there was no 
 access but by a steep and cragged ascent. The strength of 
 its situation, and its being imbosomed in the centre of the 
 kingdom, had produced the careless security which now in- 
 vited attack. 
 
 To ascertain fully the state of the fortress, the marquis 
 secretly despatched thither a veteran soldier who was highly 
 in his confidence. His name was Ortega de Prado ; a man 
 of great activity, shrewdness, and valour, and captain of esca- 
 ladores, or those employed to scale the walls of fortresses in 
 time of attack. Ortega approached Alhama one moonless 
 night, and paced along its walls with noiseless step, laying his 
 ear occasionally to the ground or to the wall. Every time he 
 distinguished the measured tiead of a sentinel, and now and 
 then the challenge of the nightwatch going its rounds. Find- 
 
w. 
 
 14 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBAKADA. 
 
 ing the town tbus guarded, he clambered to the castle. There 
 all was silent: as lie ranged its lofty batUements, between 
 him and the sky, he saw no sentinel on duty. He noticed 
 certain places where the wall might be ascended by scaling 
 ladders ; and having marked the hour of relieving guard, and 
 made all necessary observations, he retired without being 
 discovered. 
 
 Ortega returned to Marchena, and assured the Marquis of 
 Cadiz of the practicability of scaling the castle of Alhama, 
 and taking it by Rurprise. The marquis had a secret con- 
 ference with Don Pedro Henriquez, adelantado of Andalusia, 
 Don Diego do Merlo, commander of Seville, and Sancho do 
 Avila, alcayde of Carmona, who all agreed to aid him with 
 their forces. On an appointed day the several commanders 
 assembled at Marchena with their troops and retainers. None 
 but the leaders knew the object or destination of the enter- 
 prise, but it was enough to rouse the Andalusian spirit to 
 know that a foray was intended into the country of their old 
 enemies the Moors. Secrecy and celerity were necessary for 
 success. They set out promptly, with three thousand genetes 
 or light cavaliy, and four thousand infantry. They chose a 
 route but little travelled, by the way of Antiquera, passing 
 with great labour through rugged and solitary defiles of the 
 sierra or chain of mountains of Alzerifa, and left all their 
 baggage on the banks of the river Yeguaa, to be brought after 
 them. Their march was principally in the night; all day 
 they remained quiet; no noise was suffered in their camp, 
 and no fires were made, lest the smoke should betray them. 
 On the third day they resumed their march as the evening 
 darken(>(l, and forcing themselves forward at as quick a pace 
 as the rugged and dangerous mountain roads would permit, 
 they descended towards midnight into a small deep valley, 
 only half a league from Alhnma. Here they made a halt, 
 fatigued by this forced march during a long dark evening 
 towards the end of ?'ebruary. 
 
 The Marquis of Cadiz now explained to the troops the 
 object of the expedition. He told them, it was for the glory 
 of their most holy faith, and to avenge the Mrrongs of their 
 countrjTnen of Zahara ; and that the rich town of Alhama, 
 full of wealthy spoil, was the place to be attacked. The 
 troops were roused to new ardour by these words, and de* 
 fired to be led forthwith to the assault. They arrived close 
 
EXPEDITION AOAIK8T ALRAKA. 
 
 15 
 
 to Alhama about two hours before daybreak. Here the army 
 remained in ambush, while three himdred men were despatched 
 to scale the walls and take possession of the castle. They 
 were picked men, many of them alcaydes and officers, men 
 who preferred death to dishonour. This gallant band was 
 guided by the escalador, Ortega dc Prado, at the head of 
 thirty men with scaling ladders. They clambered the ascent 
 to the castle in silence, and arrived under the dark shadow of 
 its towers without being discovered. Not a light was to be 
 seen, not a sound to be heard ; the whole place was wrapped 
 in profound repose. 
 
 Fixing their ladders, they ascended cautiously and witli 
 noiseless steps. Ortega was the first that mounted upon the 
 battlements, followed by one Martin Galindo, a youthful 
 squire, full of spirit, and eager for distinction. Moving 
 stealthily along the parapet to the portal of the citadel, they 
 came upon the sentinel by surprise. Ortega seized him by 
 the throat, brandished a dagger before his eyes, and ordered 
 him to jMjint the way to the guard-room. The infidel obeyed, 
 and was instantly despatched, to prevent his giving any 
 alarm. The guard-room was a scene rather of massacre than 
 combat. Some of the soldiery were killed while sleeping, 
 othtrs were cut down almost without resistance, bewildered 
 by so uniApectod an assault: all were despatched, for the 
 scaling party was too small to make prisoners or to spare. 
 The alarm spread throughout the castle ; but by this time the 
 three hundred picked men had mounted the battlements. 
 The garrison, startled from sleep, found the enemy already 
 roasters of the towers. Some of the Moors were cut down at 
 once, others fought desperately from room to room, and the 
 whole cjLstle resounded with the clash of arms, the cries of 
 the combatants, and the groans of the wounded. The army 
 in ambush, finding by the uproar that the castle was surprised, 
 now rushed from their concealment, and approached the walls 
 with loud shouts and sound of kettledrums and trumpets, 
 to increase the confusion and dismay of the garrison. A 
 violent conflict took place in the court of the castle, where 
 several ot the scaling party sought to throw open the gates to 
 admit their countr}men. Here fell two valiant alcaydes, 
 Nicholas de Koja and Sancho de Avila, but they fell honour- 
 ably, upon a heap of slain. At length Ortega de Prado 
 succeeded in throwing open a postern, through which tbo 
 
16 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBANADA. 
 
 Morqviis of Cadiz, the adelantado of Andalusia, and Don 
 Diego dc Merio entered with a host of followers, and the 
 citadel remained in full possession of the Christians. 
 
 As the Spanish cavaliers were ranging from room to room, 
 the Marquis of Cadiz, entered an apartment of superior rich- 
 ness to the rest, beheld, by tlie light of a silver lamp, a beau- 
 tiful Moorish female, the wife of the alcayde of the castle, 
 •whose husband was absent, attending a wedding feast at Velez 
 Malaga. She would have fled at the sight of a Christian 
 warrior in her apartment, but, entangled in the covering of 
 the bed, she fell at the feet of the marquis, imploring mercy. 
 The Chi'istian cavalier, who had a soul full of honour and 
 courtesy towards the sex, raised her from the earth, and 
 endeavoured to allay her fears ; but they were increased at 
 the sight of her female attendants, pursued into the room by 
 the Spanish soldiery. The marquis reproached his soldiers 
 for their unmanly conduct, and reminded them, that they 
 made war upon men, not on defenceless women. Having 
 soothed the terrors of the females by the promise of honour- 
 able protection, he appointed a trusty guard to watch over the 
 security of their apartment. 
 
 The castle was now taken, but the town below it was in 
 arms. It was broad day, and the people, recovered from their 
 panic, were enabled to see and estimate the force of the 
 enemy. The inhabitants wei-e chiefly merchants and trades- 
 people ; but the Moors all possessed a knowledge of the use 
 of M'capons, and were of brave and warlike spirit. They 
 confided in the strength of their walls, and the certainty of 
 speedy relief from Granada, which was but about eight 
 leagues distant. ^Manning the battlements and towers, they 
 discharged showers of stones and arrows, whenever the part 
 of the Christian army without the M'alls attempted to ap- 
 proach. They barrieadocd the entrances of their streets also, 
 which opened towards the castle, stationing men expert at the 
 crossbow and arq\iebuse. These kept up a constant fire \ipon 
 the gate of the castle, so that no one could sally forth without 
 being instantly wounded or killed. Two valiant cavaliers 
 who attempted to lead forth a party in defiance of this fatal 
 tempest, were shot dead at the very portal. 
 
 The Christians now found themselves in a situation of great 
 peril. Keinforcements must soon arrive to the enemy from 
 Granadu. Unless, therefore, they gained possession of the 
 
EXPEDITIOX AGAINST ALHAMA. 
 
 It 
 
 and Don 
 
 •8, and the 
 
 8. 
 
 m to room, 
 )erior rich- 
 ip, a beau- 
 the castle, 
 ist at Velez 
 Christian 
 ovcring of 
 ing mercy, 
 onour and 
 earth, and 
 icreased at 
 le room by 
 lis soldiers 
 that they 
 I. Having 
 of honour- 
 h over the 
 
 it was in 
 from their 
 rce of the 
 ind trades- 
 af the use 
 rit. They 
 •rtainty of 
 >out eight 
 vers, they 
 T the part 
 ed to ap- 
 reets also, 
 )ert at the 
 
 fire tipon 
 h without 
 
 cavaliers 
 this fatal 
 
 n of great 
 Liny from 
 ou of the 
 
 town in the course of the day, they were likely to be sur- 
 rounded and beleaguered, and with scarcely any provisions in 
 the castle. Some obser\ed, that, even if they took the town, 
 they shoiild not be able to keep possession of it. They pro- 
 posed, therefore, to make booty of cveiy thing valuable, to 
 sack the castle, set it ou fire, and make good their retreat lo 
 Seville. 
 
 The Marquis of Cadiz was of different council. " God has 
 given the citadel into Christian hands," said he ; " he will no 
 doubt strengthen them to maintain it. Wo have gained the 
 place with difficulty and blcjodshcd ; it would be a stain upon 
 our honour to abandon it through fear of imaginary' dangers." 
 Tlie adelantado and Don Diego de Mcrlo joined in his opinion ; 
 but, without their earnest and united remonstrances, the place 
 would have been abandoned ; so exhausted were the troops 
 by forced marches and hard fighting, and so apprehensive of 
 the approach of the Moors of Granada. 
 
 The strength and spirits of the party within the castle were 
 in some degree restored by the provisions which they found. 
 The Christian army beneath the town, being also refreshed by 
 u morning repast, advanced vigorously to the attack of the 
 walls. They planted their scaling ladders, and, swarming 
 up, fought fiercely with the Moorish soldiery upon the 
 ramparts. 
 
 In the mean time, the Marquis of Cadiz, seeing that the 
 gate of the castle which opened towards the city was com- 
 pletely commanded by the artillerj' of the enemy, ordered a 
 large breach to be made in the wall, through which he might 
 lead his troops to the attack ; animating them in this perilous 
 moment by assuring them, that the place should be given up 
 to plunder, and its inhabitants made captives. 
 
 The breach being made, the marquis put himself at the 
 head of his troops, and entered sword in hand. A simul- 
 taneous attack was made by the Christians in every port, by 
 the ramparts, by the gate, by the roofs and walls which con- 
 nected the castle with the town. The Moors fought valiantly 
 in their streets, from their windows, and from the tops of 
 their houses. They were not equal to the Christians in bodily 
 strongtii ; for they were for the most part peaceful men, of 
 indutstrious callings, and enervated by the frequent use of the 
 warm bath ; but thry were superior in number, and imcon- 
 querable in spirit ; old and young, strong and weak, fought 
 
 i 
 
i I 
 
 18 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBANADA. 
 
 
 11 
 
 
 with the same desperation. The Moors fought for property, 
 for liberty, for life. They fought at their thresholds and their 
 hearths with the shrieks of their wives and children ringing 
 in their ears; and they fought in the hope, that each moment 
 would bring aid from Granada. They regarded neither their 
 own wounds nor the deaths of their companions, but continued 
 fighting until they fell; and seemed as if, when they could no 
 longer contend, tlxey would block up the threshholds of their 
 beloved homes with their mangled bodies. The Christians 
 fought for glory, for revenge, for the holy faith, and for the 
 spoil of these wealthy infidels. Success would place a rich 
 town at their mercy, failure would deliver them into the hands 
 of the tyrant of Granada. 
 
 The contest raged from morning until night, when the 
 
 Moors began to yield, lletreating to a large mosque near 
 the walls, they kept up so galling a fire from it with lances, 
 crossbows, and arquebuses, that for some time the Christians 
 dared not approach. Covering themselves at length with 
 bucklers and madtelets* to protect them from the deadly 
 shower, they made their way to the mosque, and set fire to 
 the doors. When the smoke and fiames rolled in upon them, 
 the Moors gave all up as lost. Many rushed forth desperately 
 upon the enemy, but were immediately slain; the rest sur- 
 rendered. 
 
 The struggle was now at an end; the town remained at the 
 mercy of the Christians, and the inhabitants, both male and 
 female, became slaves of those who made them jirisoners. 
 Some few escaped by a mine or subterranean way which led 
 to the river, and concealed themselves, their wives and child- 
 ren, in caves and secret places, bnt in three or four days were 
 compelled to surrender themselves through hunger. 
 
 Tlie town was givin up to plunder, and the booty was im- 
 mense. There were found })rodigious quantities of gold, and 
 silver, and jewels, and rich silks, and costly stuffs of all kinds, 
 together with horses and beeves, and abundance of grain, and 
 oil, and honey, and all other ])ro(luctions of this fruitful king- 
 dom; for in Alhama were collected the royal rents and tri- 
 butes of the surrounding country: it was the richest town in 
 the Moorish territory, and from its great strength and peculiar 
 situation, was called the key to Granada. 
 
 • Mantelet is a movcablo parapet, made of thick planka, to protect 
 troops when advanciag to aap or assault a walled place. 
 
 Gi 
 
 soldi 
 
CAPTURE OF ALHAMA.''^^f^ ,,,^ iX 
 
 ■ Great waste and devastation were cpmiiiittodLiiy the Spanish 
 soldiery, for, thinking it would be iii^|^e§3ible to Iteep posses- 
 sion . , -.1- » . 
 
 not 
 
 furniture 
 
 open, and their contents scattered to the winds. Many Chris- 
 tian captives, who had been taken at Zahara, were found 
 buried in a Moorish dungeon, and were triumphantly restored 
 to light and liberty, and a renegado Spaniard, who had often 
 served as guide to the Moors in their incursions into the 
 Christian territories, was hanged on the highest part of the 
 battlements, fur the ediiication of the army. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A Moorish horseman had spurred across the vega, nor did 
 he rein his panting steed until he alighted at the gate of the 
 Alhambra. He brought tidings to Muley Aben Hassan of 
 the attack upon Alhama. " The Christians," said he, " are 
 in the land. They came upon us, we know not whence or 
 how, and scaled the walls of the castle in the night. There 
 has been dreadful fighting and carnage on its towers and 
 courts, and when I spurred my steed from the gate of Alhama, 
 the castid was in possession of the unbelievers." 
 
 Muley Aben Hassan felt for a moment as if swift retri- 
 bution had come upon him for the woes he had inflicted upon 
 Zahara. Still he flattered himself that this had only been 
 some transient inroad of a party of marauders, intent upon 
 plunder, and that a little succour thrown into the town would 
 be sufficient to expel them from the castle, and drive them 
 from the land. He ordered out, therefore, a thousand of his 
 chosen cavalry, and sent them in all speed to the assistance of 
 Alhama. They arrived before its walls the morning after its 
 capture. The Christian standards floated upon the towers, 
 and a body of cavalry poured forth from its gates, and came 
 wheeling down into the plain to receive them. 
 
 The Moorish horsemen turned the reins of their steeds and 
 galloped back for Granada. They entered its gates in tumid- 
 tuous confusion, spreading terror and lamentation by their 
 tidings. "Alhama is fallen! Alhama is fallen!" exclaimed 
 they ; " the Christians garrison its walls ; the key of Granada 
 is iu tlic hands of the enemy !' 
 
20 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBANADA. 
 
 I: 
 
 ^1 
 
 When the people heard these words, they remembered the 
 denunciation of the santon : his prediction seemed still to 
 resound in every ear, and its fulfilment to be at hand. No- 
 thing was heard throughout the city but sighs and wailings. 
 " Woe is me, Alhama !" was in every mouth, and this ejacu- 
 lation of deep sorrow and doleful foreboding came to be the 
 biu-den of a plaintive ballad, which remains to the present day.* 
 
 Many aged men, who had taken refuge in Granada from 
 other Moorish dominions which had fallen into the power of 
 the Christians, now groaned in despair at the thought, that 
 war was to follow them into this last retreat, to lay waste this 
 pleasant land, and to bring trouble and sorrow upon their 
 declining years. The women were more loud and vehement 
 in their grief, for they beheld the evils impending over their 
 children, and what can restrain the agony of a mother's 
 heart ? Many of them made their way through the halls of 
 the Alhambra into the presence of the king, weeping, and 
 wailing, and tearing their hair. " Accursed be the day," 
 cried they, " when the flame of war was kindled by thee in 
 our land ! May the holy prophet bear witness before Allah, 
 that we and our children are innocent of this act ! Upon thy 
 head, and upon the heads of thy posterity, to the end of the 
 world, rest the sin of the desolation of Zahara !"f 
 
 Muley Aben Hassan remained unmoved amidst all this storm : 
 his heart was hardened, observes Fray Antonio Agapida, like 
 that of Pharaoh, to the end that through his blind violence and 
 rage he might produce the deliverance of the land from its 
 heathen bondage. In fact, he was a bold and fearless war- 
 rior, and trusted soon to make this blow recoil upon the head 
 of the enemy. He had ascertained that the captors of Alhama 
 were but a handful ; they were in the centre of his dominions, 
 within a short distance of his capital. They were deficient in 
 munitions of war, and provisions for sustaining a siege. By 
 a rapid movement he might surround them with a powerful 
 army, cut off all aid from their countrymen, and entrap them in 
 the fortress they had taken. 
 
 To think was to act, with Muley Aben Hassan • but he was 
 prone to act with too much precipitation. I'-^ iiiimediately 
 
 * The mournful little Spanish romance of Ay de mi, Alhama I U 
 BuppoBed to bo of Moorish origin, and to embody the grief of the people 
 of Granada on thin occasion. 
 
 t Qaribray, lib. xl. c. 29. 
 
CAPTURE OF ALHAMA. 
 
 21 
 
 set forth in person, with three thousand horse and fifty thou- 
 sand foot, and, in his eagerness to arrive at the scene of 
 action, would not wait to provide artillery and the various 
 engines required in a siege. " The multitude of my forces," 
 said he, confidently, " will be sufficient to overwhelm the 
 enemy." 
 
 The Marquis of Cadiz, who thus held possession of Alhama, 
 had a chosen friend and faithful companion in arms among 
 the most distinguished of the Christian chivalry. This yras 
 Don Alonzo de Cordova, senior and lord of the house of 
 Aguilar, and brother of Goiizalvo of Cordova, afterwards re- 
 nowned as the grand captain of Spain. As yet Alonzo de 
 Aguilar was the glory of his name and race, for his brother 
 was but young in arms. He was one of the most hardy, 
 valiant, and enterprising Spanish knights, and foremost in all 
 service of a perilous and adventurous nature. He had not been 
 at hand to accompany his friend Ponce de Leon, Marquis of 
 Cadiz, in his inroad into the Moorish territory, but he hastily 
 assembled a number of retainers, horse and foot, and pressed 
 forward to join the enterpiise. Arriving at the river Yeguas, 
 he found the baggage of the army still upon its banks, and 
 took charge of it to carry it to Alhama. The Marquis of 
 Cadiz heard of the approach of his friend, whose march was 
 slow, in consequence of being encumbered by the baggage. 
 He was within but a few leagues of Alhama, when scouts 
 came hurrying into the place with intelligence, that the 
 Moorish king was at hand with a powerful army. The Mar- 
 quis of Cadiz was filled with alann lest De Aguilar should 
 fell into the hands of the enemy. Forgetting his own danger, 
 and thinking only of that of his friend, he despatched a well 
 mounted messenger to ride full speed and warn him not to 
 approach. 
 
 The first determination of Alonzo de Aguilar, when he 
 heard that the Moorish king was at hand, was to take a strong 
 position in the mountains, and await his coming. The mad • 
 ness of an attemjjt with his handful of men to oppose an 
 immense army, was represented to him with such force as to 
 induce him to abandon the idea. He then thought of throwing 
 himself into Alhama, to share the fortunes of his friend. But 
 it was now too late. The Moor would infallibly intercept 
 him, and he should only give the marquis the additional dis- 
 tress of beholding him captured beneath his walls. It was 
 even urged upon him that he had no time .o delay, if he 
 
 I 
 
22 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBA.KADA. 
 
 
 i : 
 
 would consult liis own safety, which could only be ensured by 
 an immediate retreat into the Christian territorj'. This last 
 opinion was confirmed by the return of scouts, who brought 
 information that Muley Aben Hassan had received notice of 
 his movements, and was rapidly advancing in quest of him. 
 It was with infinite reluctance that Don Alonzo de Aguilar 
 yielded to these uuited and powerful reasons. Proudly and 
 sullenly he drew off his forces, laden with the baggage of the 
 army, and made an unwilling retreat towards Antequera. 
 Muley Aben Hassan pursued him for some distance through 
 the mountains, but soon gave up the chase, and turned with 
 his forces upon Alhama. 
 
 As the army approached the town, they beheld the fields 
 strewn with the dead bodies of their countrymen, who had 
 fallen in defence of the place, and had been cast forth and left 
 unburied by the Christians. There they lay, mangled and 
 exposed to every indignity, while droves of half-famished 
 dogs were preying upon them, and fighting and howling over 
 their hideous repast,* Furious at the sight, the Moors, ia 
 the first transports of their rage, attacked these ravenous ani- 
 mals, and their next measure was to vent their fury upon the 
 Christians. They rushed like madmen to the walls, applied 
 scaling ladders in all parts, without waiting for the necessary 
 mantelets and other protections, thinking, by attacking sud- 
 denly and ot various points, to distract the enemy, and over- 
 come them by the force of numbers. 
 
 The Marquis of Cadiz with his confederate commanders 
 distributed themselves along the walls, to direct and animate 
 their men in the defence. The Moors, in their blind fury, 
 often assailed the most difficult and dangerous places. Darts, 
 stones, and all kinds of missiles, were hurled down upon their 
 unprotected heads. As fast as they mounted they were cut 
 down, or dashed from the battlements, their ladders over- 
 turned, and all who were on them precipitated headlong below. 
 
 Muley Aben Hassan stormed with passion at the sight : he 
 sent detachment after detachment to scale the walls ; but in 
 vain : they were like waves rushing upon a rock only to dash 
 themselves to pieces. The Moors lay in heaps beneath the 
 wall, and among them many of the bravest cavaliers of Gra- 
 nada. The Christians, also, sallied frequently from the gates, 
 and made great havoc in the irregular multitude of assailants. 
 On one of these occasions the party was commanded by Don 
 , . • Pulgar, Cronica. 
 
CAPTURE OF ALHAMA. 
 
 23 
 
 10U8 am- 
 
 Juan de Vera, the same pious and high-handed knight who 
 had borne the embassy to Muley Aben Hassan demanding 
 tribute. As this doughty cavalier, sifter a career of carnage, 
 was slowly retreating to the gate, he heard a voice calling 
 after him in furious accents. " Tiun back ! turn back ! " cried 
 the voice : " thou, who canst insult in hall, prove that thou 
 canst combat in the field." Don Juan de Vera turned, and 
 beheld the same Abencerrage whom he had struck with his 
 sword in the Alhambra, for scoffing at the immaculate con- 
 ception of the blessed Virgin. All his holy zeal and pious 
 indignation rekindled at the sight : he put lance in rest, and 
 spurred his steed, to finish this doctrinal dispute. Don Juan 
 was a potent and irresistible arguer with his weapon ; and he 
 was aided, says Fray Antonio Agapida, by the peculiar virtue 
 of his cause. At the very first encoimter, his lance entered 
 the mouth of the Moor, arid hurled him to the earth, never 
 more to utter word or breath. Thus, continues the worthy 
 friar, did this scoffing infidel receive a well-merited punish- 
 ment through the very organ with which he had offended, a&d 
 thus was the inamaculate conception miraculously vindicated 
 from his foul aspersions. 
 
 The vigorous and successful defence of the Christians now 
 made Muley Aben Hassan sensible of his error, in hurrying 
 from Granada without the proper engines for a siege. Desti- 
 tute of all means to batter the fortifications, the town remained 
 uninjured, defying the mighty army which raged in vain before 
 it. Incensed at being thus foiled, Muley Aben Hassan gave 
 orders to undermine the walls. The Moors advanced with 
 shouts to the attempt. They were received with a deadly 
 fire from the ramparts, which drove them from their works. 
 Repeatedly were they repulsed, and repeatedly did they retm^n 
 to the charge. The Christians not meiely galled them from 
 the battlements, but issued forth and cut them down in tho 
 excavations they were attempting to form. The contest lasted 
 a whole day, and by evening two thousand Moors were either 
 killed or woimded. 
 
 Muley Aben Hassan now abandoned all hope of carrying 
 the place by assault ; and attempted to distress it into terms, 
 by turning the channel of the river which nms by its walls. 
 On this stream the inhabitants depended for their supply of 
 water, the place being destitute of fountains and cisterns, from 
 which circumstance it is called Alhama la seca, or " the dry." 
 
 A desperate conflict ensued on the banks of the river ; the 
 
I 
 
 24 
 
 THE COXQTJEST OP GBANADA. 
 
 ill. 
 
 !li' 
 
 Moors endeavouring^ to plant palisadocs in its bed, to divert 
 the stream, and the Christians striving to prevent them. The 
 Spanish commanders exposed themselves to the utmost danger 
 to animate their men, who were repeatedly driven back into 
 the town. The Marquis of Cadiz was often up to his knees in 
 the stream, fighting hand to hand with the Moors. The water 
 ran red with blood, and was encumbered with dead bodies. 
 At length, the overwhelming numbers of the Moors gave them 
 the advantage, and they succeeded in diverting the greater 
 part of the water. The Christians had to struggle severely to 
 supply themselves from the feeble rill which remained. They 
 sallied to the river by a subterraneous pa8sa}<e; but the 
 Moorish cross-bowmen stationed themselves on the opposite 
 bank, keeping up a heavy fire upon the Christians, whenever 
 they attempted to fill their vessels from the scanty and turbid 
 stream. One party of the Christians had therefore to fight, 
 while another drew water. At all hours of day and night this 
 deadly strife was maintained, until it seemed as if every drop 
 of water were purchased with a drop of blood. 
 
 In the mean time the sufferings in the town became intense. 
 None but the soldiery and their ho r«8 were allowed the pre- 
 cious beverage so dearly earned, and even that in quantities 
 that only tantalized their wants. The wounded, who could 
 not sally to procure it, M'cre almost destitute ; while the un- 
 happy prisoners, shut up in the mosques, were reduced to 
 frightful extremities. Many perished raving mad, fancying 
 themselves swimming in boundless seas, yet unable to assuage 
 their thirst. Many of the soldiers lay parched and panting 
 along the battlements, no longer able to draw a boM'string or 
 hiu-l a stone, while above five thousand Moors, stationed upon 
 a rocky height which overlooked part of the town, kept up a 
 galling fire into it with slings and crossbows ; so that the Mar- 
 quis of Cadiz was obliged to heighten the battlements by using 
 the doors from the private dwellings. 
 
 The Christian cavaliers, exposed to this extreme peril, and 
 in imminent danger of falling into the hands of the enemy, 
 despatched fleet messengers to Seville and (Cordova, entreating 
 the chivalr)'^ of iVndalusia to hasten to their aid. They sent 
 likewise to implore assistance from the king and queen, wheat 
 that time held their court in Medina del Campo. In the 
 midst of their distress, a tank, or cistern of water, was fortu- 
 nately discovered in the city, which gave temporary relief to 
 their sufferings. . 
 
BELIEF OF ALHAHA. 
 
 25 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Tht: perilous situation of the Christian cavaliers, pent up 
 and beleaguered within the walls of Alhama, spread terror 
 among their friends, and anxiety throughout all Andalusia. 
 Nothing, however, could equal the anguish of the Marchioness 
 of Cadiz, the wife of the gallant Rodorigo Ponce de Leon. In 
 her deep distress she looked round for some powerful noble, 
 who had the means of rousing the country to the assistance of 
 her husband. No one appealed more competent for the pur- 
 pose than Don Juan de Guzman, the Duke of Medina Sidonia. 
 He was one of the most wealthy and puissant grandees of 
 Spain ; his possessions extended over some of the most fertile 
 parts of Andalusia, embracing towns and seaports, and nume- 
 rous villages. Here he reigned in feudal state like a petty 
 sovereign, and could at anytime bring into the field an immense 
 force of vassals and retainers. The Duke of Medina Sidonia, 
 and the Marquis of Cadiz, however, were at this time deadly 
 foes. An hereditary feud existed between them, that had 
 often arisen to bloodshed and war ; for as yet the fierce con- 
 tests between the proud and puissant Spanish nobles had not 
 been completely quelled by the power of the crown, and in 
 this respect they exerted a right of sovereignty, in leading 
 their vassals against each other in open field. 
 
 The Duke of Medina Sidonia would have appeared to many 
 the very last person to whom to apply for aid of the Marquis 
 of Cadiz ; but the marchioness judged of him by the standard 
 of her own high and generous mind. She knew him to be a 
 gallant and courteous knight, and had already experienced the 
 magnanimity of his spirit, having been relieved by him when 
 besieged by the Moors in her husband's fortress of Arcos. To 
 the duke, therefore, she applied in this moment of sudden 
 calamity, imploring him to furnish succour to her husband. 
 The event showed how well noble spirits understand each 
 other. No sooner did the duke receive this appeal from the 
 wife of his enemy, than he generously forgot all feeling of 
 animosity, and determined to go in person to his succour. 
 He immediately despatched a courteous letter to the marchio- 
 ness, assuring her, that, in consideration of the request of so 
 honourable and estimable a lady, and to rescue from peril so 
 valiant a cavalier as her husband, whose loss would be great, 
 not only to Spain, but to all Christendom, he would forego the 
 
26 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBANADA. 
 
 
 1^ 
 
 recollpction of all past grievances, and hasten to his relief 
 with all the forces he could raise. 
 
 The duke wrote at the same time to the alcaydes of his 
 towns and fortresses, ordering them to join him forthwith at 
 Seville, with all the force they could spare from their garri- 
 sons. He called on all the chivalry of Andalusia to make a 
 common cause in the rescue of those Christian cavaliers, and 
 he offered large pay to all volunteers who would resort to him 
 with horses, armour, and provisions. Thus all who could be 
 incited by honour, religion, patriotism, or thirst of gain, were 
 induced to hasten to his standard ; and he took the field with 
 an army of five thousand horse and fifty thousand foot.* 
 Many cavaliers of distinguished name accompanied him in 
 this generous entcrprize. Among these was the redoubtable 
 Alouzo de Aguilar, the chosen fi-iend of the Marquis of Cadiz, 
 and with him his younger brother, Gonsalvo Fernandez de 
 Cordova, afterwards renowned as the grand captain ; Don 
 Kodrigo Given, also piaster of the order of Calatrava, toge- 
 ther with Martin Alonzo de Montemayor, and the Marquis de 
 Villena, esteemed the best lance in Spain. It was a gallant 
 and splendid army, comprising the power of Spanish chivalry, 
 and poured forth in brilliant array from the gates of Seville, 
 bearing the great standard of that ancient and renowned city. 
 
 Ferdinand and Isabella were at Medina del Campo when 
 tidings came of the capture of Alhama. The king was at 
 mass when he received the news, and ordered Te Detim to be 
 chanted for this signal triumph of the holy faith. When the 
 first flush of triumph had subsided, and the king learned the 
 imminent peril of the valorous Ponce de Leon and his com- 
 panions, and the great danger there was that this strong>hold 
 might again be wrested from their grasp, he resolved to hurry 
 in person to the scene of action. So pressing appeared to 
 him the emergency, that he barely gave himself time to take 
 a hasty repast while horses were providing, and then departed 
 at furious speed for Andalusia, leaving a request for the 
 queen to follow him.f He was attended by Don Beltran de 
 la Cueva, Duke of Albuquerque ; Don Inigo Lopez de Men- 
 doza. Count of Tendilla ; and Don Pedro Manriquez. Count of 
 Trevino, with a few more cavaliers of prowess and distinction. 
 
 * Cronica de los Duques de Medina Sidouia Dor Pedro de Medina. 
 MS. ' " 
 
 t Illescas, Hist. Pontifical. 
 
RELIEF OF ALHAMA. 
 
 27 
 
 He travelled by forced journeys, frequently changing his 
 jaded horses, hcin^ eager to arrive in time to take command 
 of the Andji usian chivalry. When he came witliin five 
 leag:ues of Cordova, the Duke of Albuquerque remonelrated 
 with him upon entering with such incautious haste into the 
 enemies' country. He represented to him, that there were 
 troops enough assembled to succour Alhama, and that it was 
 not for him to adventure his royal person in doing what could 
 be done by his subjects, especially as he had such valiant and 
 experienced captains to act for him. " Besides, sire,' added 
 the duke, " your majesty should bethink you, that the troops 
 about to take the field are mere men of Andalusia ; whereas 
 your illustrious predecessors never made an inroad into the 
 territory of the Moors, without being accompanied by a 
 powerful force of the stanch and iron warriors of Old 
 Castile." 
 
 " Duke," replied the king, " your council might have been 
 good had I not departed from Medina with the avowed deter- 
 mination of succouring these cavaliers in prison. I am now 
 near the end of my journey, and it would be beneath my 
 dignity to change my intention, before even I had met with 
 an impediment. I shall take the troops of this country who 
 are assembled, without waiting for those of Castile, and, with 
 the aid of God, shall prosecute my journey*." 
 
 As King Ferdinand approached Cordova, the principal 
 inhabitants came forth to receive him. Learning, however, 
 that the Duke of Medina Sidonia was already on the march, 
 and pressing forward into the territory of the Moors, the king 
 was all on fire to overtake him, and to lead in person the 
 succoiu* to Alhama. Without entering Cordova, therefore, 
 he exchanged his weary horses for those of the inhabitants 
 who had come forth to meet him, and pressed forward for the 
 army. He despatched fleet couriers in advance, requesting 
 the Duke of Medina Sidonia to await his coming, that ho 
 might take command of the forces. 
 
 Neither the duke nor his companions in arms, however, 
 felt inclined to pause in their generous expedition, and gratify 
 the inchnation of the king. They sent back missives, repre- 
 senting that they were far within the enemies' frontiers, and 
 it was dangerous either to pause or to ttim back. They had 
 likewise received pressing entreaties from the besieged to 
 ..^ , ._ * Pulgar, Cronica, p. iii. c. 3. 
 
28 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBAN1DA. 
 
 hasten their speed, setting forth tlieir great sufferings, and 
 their hourly peril of being ovi-rwhelmed by the enemy. 
 
 The king was at Ponton del Maestro when he received 
 these missives. So inflamed was he with zeal for the success 
 of this enterprise, that he would have penetrated into the 
 kidgdom of Granada with the handful of cavaliers who accom- 
 panied him ; but they represented the rashness of such a 
 journey, througli the mountainous defiles of a hostile country 
 thickly beset with towns and castles. With some difficulty, 
 therefore, he was dissuaded from his inclination, and pre- 
 vailed u])nn to await tidings from the army, in the frontier 
 city of Autequera. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 "NVniLE all Andalusia was thus in arms, and pouring its 
 chivalry through the mountain passes of the Moorish frontier, 
 the garrison of Alhama was reduced to great extremity, and 
 in danger of sinking under its sufferings before the promised 
 succour could ariive. The intolerable thirst that prevailed in 
 consequence of the scarcity of water, the incessant watch that 
 had to be maintained over the vast force of enemies without, 
 and the great number of ])risoners within, and the wounds 
 which almost every soldier had received in the incessant skir- 
 mishes and assaults, had worn grievously both flesh and spirit. 
 The noble Ponce de Leon, Marquis of Cadiz, still animated 
 the soldiery, however, by word and example, sharing every 
 hardship, and being foremost in every danger ; exemplifying, 
 that a good commander is the A-itid spirit of an army. 
 
 When Muley Aben Hassan heard of the vast force that was 
 approaching under the command of the Duke of Medina 
 Sidonia. and that Ferdinand was coming in person with addi- 
 tional troops, he perceived that nc .imo was to be lost: 
 Alhanui must be caiTied by one powerful attack, or abandoned 
 entirely to the Christians. 
 
 A number of Moorish cavaliers, some of the bravest youth 
 of (iraiuula, knowing the wishes of the king, projiosed to under- 
 take a desperate enteqirise, which, if successful, must put 
 Alhauui in his power. Karly one morning, when it was 
 scarcely the gray of the dawn, about the time of changing 
 tlie watch, these cavaliers approaclied the town, at a place 
 considered inaeeeusible, from the steepness of the rocks on 
 
SEQUEL OF THE EVENTS AT ALHAMA. 
 
 29 
 
 gs, and 
 
 |i-(>coived 
 success 
 nto the 
 
 ^ accom- 
 
 such a 
 
 country 
 
 ifficulty, 
 
 md pre- 
 frontier 
 
 uring its 
 frontier, 
 lity, and 
 promised 
 jvailed in 
 atch that 
 I without, 
 e wounds 
 sant skir- 
 ind spirit, 
 animated 
 ing every 
 nplifying, 
 
 r 
 
 ! that was 
 f Medina 
 vith addi- 
 i 1)0 lost : 
 ibandoned 
 
 rest youth 
 I to under- 
 must put 
 'n it was 
 
 which the wall was founded ; which it was supposed elevated the 
 battlements beyond the reach of the longest sealing laddtrs. 
 The Moorish knights, aided by a number of the strongest and 
 most active escaladors, mounted these rocks, and applied the 
 ladders without being discovered ; for, to divert attention 
 from them, Muley Abcn Hassan made a false attack upon the 
 town in another «iuarter. 
 
 The scaling party mounted with difficulty, and in small 
 numbers ; the sentinel was killed at his post, and seventy of 
 the Moors made their way into the streets before^ an alarm 
 was given. ITie guards rushed to the walls, to stop the hostile 
 throng that was still pouring in. A sharp conflict, hand to hand, 
 and man to man, took place on the battlements, and many on 
 both sides fell. The floors, whether wounded or slain, were 
 thrown headlong without the walls, the scaling ladders were 
 overturned, and those who were mounting were dashed upon 
 the rocks, and from thence tumbled upon the plain. Thus in 
 a little while the ramparts were cleared by Christian ])rowe8s, 
 led on by that valiant knight Don Alonzo Ponce, the uncle, 
 and that brave esquire Pedro Pinedo, nephew of the Marquis 
 of Cadiz. 
 
 The walls being cleared, these two kindred cavaliers now 
 hastened with their forces in pursuit of the seventy Moors 
 who had gained an entrance into the town. The main part 
 of the garrison being engaged at a distance, resisting the 
 feigned attack of the Moorish king, this fierce band of infidels 
 had ranged the streets almost without opposition, and were 
 making their way to the gates, to throw them open to the 
 army.* They were chosen men from among the Moorish 
 forces, several of them gallant knights of the proudest families 
 of Granada. Their footsteps through the city were in a 
 manner printed in blood, and they were tracked by the bodies 
 of those they had killed and wounded. They had attained 
 the gate ; most of the guard had fallen l)eneath their cimeters : 
 a moment more and Alhama would have been thrown open to 
 the enemy. 
 
 Just at this juncture. Don Alonzo Ponce and Pedro do 
 Pineda reached the spot with their forces. The Moors had 
 the enemy in front and rear ; they placed themselves back to 
 back, with their banner in the centre. In this way they 
 fought with desperate and deadly determination, making a 
 • Zurita, lib. XX. cap. 43. , 
 
f! 
 
 30 
 
 THE CONQUEST OP GRANADA. 
 
 rampart around them with the slain. More Christian troops 
 arrived, and hemmed them in, but still they fought, without 
 asking for quarter. As their numbers decreased, they serried 
 their circle still closer, defending their banner from assault, 
 and the last Moor died at his post grasping the standard of 
 the Prophet. This standard was displayed from the walls, 
 and the turbaned heads of the Moors were thrown down to 
 the besiegers.* 
 
 Muley Aben Hassan tore his beard with rago at the failure 
 of this attempt, and at the death of so many of his chosen 
 cavaliers. He saw that all further effort was in vain. His 
 scouts brought word that they had seen, from the heights, the 
 long columns and flaunting banners of the Christian army 
 approaching through the mountains. To linger would be to 
 place himself between two bodies of the enemy. Breaking 
 up his camp, therefore, in all haste, he gave up the siege of 
 Alhama, and hastened back to Granada ; and the last clash 
 of his cymbals scarce died upon the ear from the distant 
 hills before the standard of the Duke of Medina Sidonia was 
 seen emerging in another direction from the defiles of the 
 motmtains. 
 
 • When the Christians in Alhama beheld their enemies 
 retreating ou one side, and their friends advancing on the 
 other, they uttered shouts of joy and hymns of thanksgiving ; 
 for it was as a sudden relief from present death. Harassed 
 by several weeks of incessant vigil and fighting, suffering from 
 scarcity of provisions and almost continual thirst, they resembled 
 skeletons rather than living men. It was a noble and gracious 
 sight to behold the meeting of those two ancient foes, the Duko 
 of Medina ISidonia and the Manpiis of Cadiz. When the 
 marqtiis beheld his magnanimous deliverer approaching, ho 
 melted into tears : all i)aHt animosities only gave the greater 
 poignancy to present feelings of gratitude and adniration ; 
 they clasped each other in their arms, and, from that time 
 forward, wire true and cordial friends. 
 
 While this generous scene took j)lace between the com- 
 manders, a sordid contest arose among their troops. The 
 soldiers who had tome to the rescue claimed a ])orti(m of the 
 spoils of Alhamii ; and so violent was the dispute, that both 
 
 * Pndro Pineda received the honour of kniffhthood from the hand of 
 Kinp Ferdiniuid for IiIh valour on this ofnt ..on. (.Vloiizo I'onoe wag 
 ulreiidy a kniyht.) Sec Zufliga, Anniiin of Seville, lib. .xii. an. HSU. 
 
i ; 
 
 SEQUEL OF THE EVENTS AT ALHAMA. 
 
 31 
 
 parties seized their arms. The Duko of Medina Sidonia 
 interfered, and settled the question witli his characteristic 
 magnanimity. He declared that the spoil belonged to those 
 who had captured the city. " We have taken the field," said 
 he, " only for honour, for religion, and for the rescue of our 
 countrymen and feliow-Christians ; and the success of our 
 enterprise is a sufficient and glorious reward. If we desire 
 booty, there are sufficient Moorish cities yet to be taken to 
 enrich us all." The soldiers were convinced by the frank 
 and chivalrous reasoning of the duke ; they replied to his 
 speech by acclamations, and the transient broil was happily 
 appealed. 
 
 The Marchioness of Cadiz, with the forethought of a loving 
 wife, had despatched her major domo with the army with a 
 large supply of provisions. Tables were immediately spread 
 beneath the tents, whore the Marquis gave a banquet to the 
 Duke and the cavaliers who had accompanied him, and 
 nothing but hilarity prevailed in this late scene of suifering 
 and death. 
 
 A garrison of fresh troops was left in Alhama, and the 
 veterans who had so valiantly, captured and maintained it 
 returned to their homes burdened with precious booty. The 
 Marquis and Duke, with their confederate cavaliers, repaired 
 to Antiquera, where they were received with great distinction 
 by the King, who honoured the Marquis of Cadiz with signal 
 marks of favour. The Duke then accompanied his lato 
 enemy, but now most zealous and grateful friend, the Marquis 
 of Cadiz, to his town of Marcheua, where he received the 
 reward of his generous conduct in the thanks and blessings 
 of the Marchioness. The Marquis gave a sumptuous enter- 
 tainment in honour of his guest : for a <1iiy and a night his 
 palace was thrown open, and was the scene of continual revel 
 and festivity. When the Duke departed for his estates at St. 
 Lucar, the Marquis attended him for some distance on his 
 journey, and when they separated, it was as the parting scene 
 of brothers. Such was the noble spectacle exhibited to the 
 chivalry of Spi*in by these two illustrious rivals. Each 
 reaped universal renown from the part he had pci-formed in 
 the campaign : the Manjuis. from having surprised and cap- 
 tured one of the most important and formidable fortresses of 
 the kingdom of (hanada, and the Duke from having subduod 
 his deaelliest foe by a great act of magnanimity. , , 
 
 
'• m f -st m^Hf r- 
 
 82 
 
 I 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The Moorish King, Aben Hansan, returned, baffled and 
 disappointed, from before the walls of Alhama, and was 
 received with groans and smothered execrations by the people 
 of Granada. The prediction of the santon was in every 
 mouth, and appeared to be rapidly fulfilling ; for the enemy 
 was already strongly fortified in Alhama, in the very heart of 
 the kingdom. The disaffection, which broke out in murmurs 
 among the common people, fermented more secretly and dan- 
 gerously among the nobles. Muley Aben Hassan was of a 
 fierce and cruel nature ; his reign had been marked with, 
 tyranny and bloodshed, and many chiefs of the family of the 
 Abencerrages, the noblest lineage among the Moors, had 
 fallen victims to his policy or vengeance. A deep plot was 
 now formed to put an end to his oppressions, and dispossess 
 him of the throne. The situation of the royal household 
 favoured the conspiracy. 
 
 Muley Aben Hassan, though cnel, was uxorious ; that is to 
 say, he had many wives, and was prone to be managed by 
 them by turns. He had two queens, in particular, whom he 
 had chosen from affection. One, named Ayxa, was a Moorish 
 female ; she was likewise termed in Arabic La Horra, or " the 
 chaste," from the spotless purity of her character. While yet 
 in the prime of her beauty, she bore a son to Aben Hassan, 
 the expected heir to his throne. The name of this prince was 
 Mahomet Abdalla, or, as he has more generally been termed 
 among historians, Boabdil. At his birth, the astrologers, ac- 
 cording to custom, cast his horoscope : they were seized with 
 fear and trembling when they beheld the fatal portents revealed 
 to their science. "Alia achbar! God is great!" exclaimed 
 they : " he alone controls the fate of empires : it is WTitten in 
 the heavens, that this prince shall sit upon the throne of Gra- 
 nada, but that the downfall of the kingdom shall be accom- 
 plished during his reign." From this time the prince was 
 ever regarded >vith aversion by his father ; and the series of 
 pcrsecutionf which he suffered, and the dark prediction which 
 hung over him from his infancy, procured hhn the surname of 
 El Zogoybi. or, " the unfortunate." He is more commonly 
 known by the appellation of El Chico, " the yomigcr," to dis- 
 tinguish him from an usurping uncle. 
 
 The other favourite (pieen of Aben Hassan was named 
 
 ^f 
 
EVENTS AT GRANAP.V. 
 
 33 
 
 Fatim.1, to which the Moors added the appellation of La 
 Zoroya, or " the li<j;htof the dawn," from her effulgent beauty. 
 She WPS a Christian by birth, the daughter of the commander 
 Sancho Ximcnes de Solis, and had been taken captive in her 
 tender youth* 
 
 The king, who was well stricken in years at the time, became 
 enamouied of the blooming Christian maid, lie made her his 
 sultana ; and, like most old men, who marry in their dotage, 
 resigned himself to her management. Zoroya became the 
 mother of two princes ; and her anxiety for their advancement 
 seemed to extinguish every other natural feeling in her breast. 
 She was as ambitious as she was beautiful, and her ruling 
 desire became, to see one of her sons seated upon the throne 
 of Granada. 
 
 For this purpose she made use of all her arts, and of the 
 complete ascendancy she had over the mind of her cruel hus- 
 band, to undermine bis other children in his affections, and to 
 fill him with jealousies of their designs, Muley Aben Hassan 
 was so wrought upon by her machinations, that he publicly 
 put several of his sons to death at the celebrated Fountain of 
 Lions, in the court of the Alhambra ; a place signalized in 
 Moorish history as the scene of many sanguinaiy deeds. 
 
 The next measure of Zoroya was against her rival sultana, 
 the virtiious A)xa. She was past the bloom of her beauty, 
 and had ceased to be attractive in the eyes of her husband. 
 He was easily persuaded to rej)udiate her, and to confine her 
 and her son in the tower of Comares, one of the principal 
 towers of the Alhambra. As I^oabdil increased in years, 
 Zoroya beheld in him a formidable obstacle to the pretensions 
 of her sons ; for ho was universally considered hen- apparent 
 to the throne. Tiic jealousies, suspicions, and alarms of his 
 tiger-hearted father were again excited; he was reminded, 
 too, of the prediction, that fixed the ruin of the kingdom 
 during the reign of this ])rince. Muley Aben Hassan im- 
 piously set the stars at defiance. " The sword of the execu- 
 tioner," said he, " shall prove the falsehood of these lying 
 horoscopes, and shall silence the ambition of Boabdil, as it has 
 tho presumption of his brothers." 
 
 The sultan Ayxa was secretly apprized of the cruel design 
 of the old monarch. She was a woman of talents and courage, 
 and, by means of her female attendants, concerted a plan for 
 
 • Cronica del Gran Cardcnal, c. Ixxi. 
 
S4 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OKANADA. 
 
 the escape of her son. A faithful servant was instructed to 
 wait below the Alhambra, in the dead of the night, on the 
 banks of the river Darro, with a fleet Arabian courser. The 
 sultana, when the castle was in a state of deep repose, tied 
 together the shawls and scarfs of herself and her female at- 
 tendants, and lowered the youthful prince from the tower of 
 Comares.* He made his way in safety down the steep rocky 
 hill to the banks of the Darro, and, throwing himself on the 
 Arabian courser, was thus spirited off to the city of Guadix in 
 the Alpuxanes. Here he lay for some time concealed, until, 
 gaining adherents, he fortified himself in the place, and set the 
 machinations of his tyrant father at defiance. Such was the 
 state of affairs in the royal household of Granada, when Muley 
 Abcii Hassan returned foiled from his expedition against 
 Alhama. The faction, which had been secretly formed among 
 the nobles, determined to depose the old king Aben Hassan, 
 and to elevate his son Boabdil to the throne. They concerted 
 their measures with the latter, and an opportimity soon pre- 
 sented to put them in practice. Muley Aben Hassan had 
 a royal country palace, called Alexares, in the vicinity of Gra- 
 nada, to which he resorted occasionally, to recreate his mind 
 during this time of perplexity. He had been passing one day 
 among its bowers, when, on returning to the capital, he found 
 the gates closed against him, and his son Mohammed Abdalla, 
 otherwise called Boabdil, proclaimed king. "Alia achbar! 
 God is great!" exclaimed old Muley Aben Hassan; it is in 
 vain to contend against what is written in the book of fate. 
 It Mas predestined, that my son should sit upon the throne. 
 Alia forefend the rest of the prediction !" Ihe old monarch 
 knew the inflammable nature of the Moors, and that it was 
 useless to attempt to check any sudden blaze of popular pas- 
 sion. " A little while," said he, " and this rash iiame will 
 burn itself out ; and the jxjople, when cool, will listen to 
 reason." So he turned his steed from the gate, and repaired 
 to the city of Baza, where he was received with great demon- 
 strations of loyalty. He was not a man to give up his throne 
 without a struggle. A large part of the kingdom still re- 
 mained faithful to him ; he trusted, that the conspiracy in the 
 capital was but transient and partial, and that by suddenly 
 making his appearance in its streets, at the head of a mo<lerate 
 force, he should awe the people again into allegiance. He 
 
 * Saloiar, Cronica del GranCardcoal, c. IzxL 
 
EVENTS AT GRANADA. 
 
 35 
 
 cted to 
 on the 
 . The 
 je, tied 
 lale at- 
 3wer of 
 p rocky 
 on the 
 ladix in 
 I, until, 
 set the 
 ^as the 
 I Muley 
 against 
 . among 
 Hassan, 
 (ncerted 
 )on pre- 
 lan had 
 of Ora- 
 lis mind 
 one day 
 le found 
 /Vbdalla, 
 achbar I 
 it is ia 
 of fate, 
 throne, 
 nonarch 
 it was 
 ar pas- 
 ime will 
 isten to 
 'paired 
 demon- 
 throne 
 still re- 
 in the 
 uddenly 
 loderate 
 2C. He 
 
 took his measures with that combination of dexterity and daring 
 which formed his character, and arrived one night under the 
 wall of Granada with five hundred chosen followers. Scaling 
 the walls of the Alharabra, he threw himself, with sanguinary 
 furj', into its silent courts. The sleeping inmates were 
 roused from their repose only to fall by the exterminating 
 cimeter. The rage of Abcn Hassan spared neither age, nor 
 rank, nor sex ; the halls resounded with shrieks and yells, and 
 the fountains ran red with blood. The alcayde, Aben 
 Comixcr, retreated to a strong tower, with a few of the gar- 
 rison and inhabitants. The furious Aben Hassan did not lose 
 time in pursuing him : he was anxious to secure the city, and 
 to wreak his vengeance on itsrebellious inhabitants. Descend- 
 ing with his bloody band into the streets, he cut down the 
 defenceless inhabitants, as, startled from their sleep, they 
 rushed forth, to learn the cause of the alarm. The city was 
 soon completely roused ; the people flew to arms ; lights 
 blazed in every street, revealing the scanty numbers of this 
 band, that had been dealing such fatal vengeance in the dark. 
 Muley Aben Hassan had been mistaken in his conjectures. 
 The great mass of the people, incensed by his tyranny, were 
 zealous in favour of his son. A violent but transient conflict 
 took place in the streets and squares ; many of the followers of 
 Aben liassan were slain, the rest driven out of the city, and 
 the old monarch, with the remnant of his band, retreated to 
 his loyal city of Malaga. 
 
 Such was the commencement of those great internal feuds 
 and divisions, which hastened the downfall of Granada. The 
 Moors became separated into two hostile factions, headed by 
 the father and the son, and several bloody encounters took 
 place between them ; yet they never failed to act with all 
 their separate force against the Christians, as a common 
 enemy, whenever an opportunity occurred. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Kino Ferdinand held a council of war at Cordova, 
 where it was deliberated what was to be done with Alhama. 
 Most of the council advised that it should be demolished, in- 
 asmuch as. being in the centre of the Moorish kingdom, it 
 would be at all times liable to attack, and cotild only be 
 maintained by a powerful garrison, and at a vast expense. 
 
 D 2 
 
36 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBAXADA. 
 
 Queen Isabella arrived at Cordova in the midst of these deli- 
 berations, and listened to them with surprise and impatience. 
 *' What!' said she, "shall wc destroy the first fruits of our 
 victories ? shall we abandon the first place we have wrested 
 from the Moors ? Never let us suffer such an idea to occupy 
 our minds. It would give new courage to the enemy; 
 arguing fear or feebleness in our councils. You talk of the 
 toil and expense of maintaining Alhama. Did we doubt, on 
 undertaking this war, that it was to be a war of infinite cost, 
 labour, and bloodshed r and shall we shrink from the cost the 
 moment a victory is obtained, and the question is merely to 
 guard or abandon its glorious trophy ? Let us hear no more 
 about the destruction of Alhama ; les us maintain its walls 
 sacred, as a strong-hold, granted us by Heaven, in the centre 
 of this hostile land ; and let our only consideration be, how 
 to extend our conquest, and capture the surrounding cities." 
 The language of the queen infused a more lofty and chival- 
 rous spirit into the royal council. Preparations were imme- 
 diately made to maintain Alhama at all risk and expense ; and 
 King Ferdinand appointed as alcayde, Luis Fernandez Puerto 
 Carrero, senior of the house of Palma, supported by Diego Lopez 
 de Ayola, Pero Ruiz de Alarcon, and Alonzo Ortis, captains 
 of four hundred lances and a body of one thousand foot, sup- 
 plied with provisions for three months. Ferdinand resolved 
 also to lay siege to Loxa, a city of great strength, at no great 
 distance from Alhama. For this purpose he called upon all 
 the cities and towns of Andalusia and Estremadiu-a, and the 
 domains of the orders of Santiago, Calatrava, and Alcantara, 
 and of the priory of St. Juan, and the kingdom of Toledo, 
 and beyond, to the cities of Salamanca, Toro, and Valladolid, 
 to furnish, according to their repartimientos or allotments, a 
 certain quantity of bread, wine, and cattle, to be delivered at 
 the roy;:l camp before Loxa, one half at the end of June, 
 and one half in July. These lands, also, together with 
 Biscay and Guipuscoa, were ordered to send reinforcements 
 of horse and foot, each iown furnishing its quota ; and great 
 diligence was used in providing lombards, powder, and other 
 walike munitions. 
 
 The Moors were no less active in their preparations ; and 
 sent missives into Africa, entreating supplies, and calling 
 upon the Barbary princes to aid them in this war of the faith. 
 To intercept all succour, the Castilian sovereigns stationed an 
 
 ; 
 
 I'i' 
 
ROYAL EXPEDITION AGAINST LOXA. 
 
 37 
 
 armada of ships and galleys in the Straits of Gibraltar, under 
 the command of Martin Diaz do Mcna and Carlos de Valcra, 
 with orders to scour the Barbary coast, and sweep every 
 Moorish sail from the sea. 
 
 While these preparations were making, Ferdinand made an 
 incursion, at the head of his army, into the kingdom of 
 Granada, and laid waste the vega ; destroying its hamlets 
 and villages, ravaging its fields of grain, and diiviug away 
 the cattle. 
 
 It was about the end of June, that King Ferdinand de- 
 parted from Cordova, to sit down before the walls of Loxa. 
 So confident was he of success, that he left a great part of 
 the army at Ecija, and advanced with but five thousand 
 cavalry and eight thousand infantry. The Marquis of Cadiz, a 
 warrior as wise as he was valiant, remonstrated against em- 
 ploying so small a force ; and, indeed, was opposed to the 
 measure altogether, as being undertaken precipitately, and 
 without sufficient preparation. King Ferdinand, however, 
 was influenced by the counsel of Don Diego de Merlo, and 
 was eager to strike a brilliant and decided blow. A vain- 
 glorious confidence prevailed about this time among the 
 Spanish cavaliers : they overrated their own prowess ; or 
 rather, they undervalued and despised their enemy. Many of 
 them beUeved, that the Moors would scarcely remain in their 
 city, when they saw the Christian troops advancing to assail 
 it. The Spanish chivalry marched, therefore, gallantly and 
 fearlessly, and almost carelessly, over the border, scantily 
 supplied with the things needful for a besieging army in the 
 heart of an enemy's country. In the same negligent and 
 confident spirit they took up their station before Loxa. The 
 country around was broken and hilly, so that it was extremely 
 difficult to form a combined camp. The river Xenil, which 
 nms by the town, was compressed between high banks, and 
 so deep as to be fordable with extreme difficulty, and the Moors 
 had possession of the bridge. The king pitched his tents in 
 a plantation of olives, on the banks of the river ; the troops 
 were distributed in different encampments on the heights, but 
 separated from each other by deep rocky ravines, so as to be 
 incapable of yielding each other prompt assistance, and there 
 was no room for the operation of the cavalrj'. The artillery, 
 also, was so injudiciouly placed as to be almost entirely useless. 
 Alonzo of Arragon, Duke of Villahermosa, and iliegitimate 
 
 
38 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBANADA. 
 
 brother of the king, was present at the siege, and disap- 
 proved of the whole arrangement, lie was one of the most 
 able generals of his time, and especially renowned for his 
 skill in battering fortified places, lie recommended, that 
 the whole disposition of the camp should be changed, and 
 that several bridges shoidd be thrown across the river. His 
 advice was adopted, but slowly and negligently followed ; so 
 that it was rendered of no avail. Among other oversights, 
 in this hasty and negligent expedition, the army had no sup- 
 ply of baked bread, and, in the hurry of encampment, there 
 was no time to erect furnaces. Cakes were therefore hastily 
 made, and baked on the coals ; and for two days the troops 
 were supplied in this irregular way. 
 
 King Ferdinand felt too late the insecurity of his position, 
 and endeavoured to provide a temporary remedy. There 
 was a height near the city, called by the Moors Santo Albo- 
 hacen, which was in front of the bridge. He ordered seve- 
 ral of his most valiant cavaliers to take possession of this 
 height, and to hold it, as a check upon the enemy and a pro- 
 tection to the camp. The cavaliers chosen for this distin- 
 guished and perilous post were the Marquis of Cadiz, the 
 Marquis of Villena, Don Roderigo Tellez Giron, master of 
 Calatrava, his brother the Count of Urena, and Don Alonzo 
 de Aguilar. These valiant warriors, and tried companions 
 in arms, led their troops with alacrity to the height, which 
 soon glittered with the array of arms, and was graced by 
 several of the most redoubtable pennons of warlike Spain. 
 
 Loxa was commanded at this time by an old Moorish 
 alcayde, whose daughter was the favourite wife of Boabdil 
 el Chico. The name of this Moor was Ibrahim Ali Atar ; but 
 he was generally known among the Spaniards as Alatar. 
 He had grown gray in border warfare, was an implacable 
 enemy of the Clu-istians, and his name had long been the 
 terror of the frontier. He was in the ninetieth vear of his 
 age, yet indomitable in spirit, fiery in his passions, sinewy, 
 and powerful in frame, deeply versed in warlike stratagem, 
 and accounted the best lance in all Mauritania. He had 
 three thousand horsemen under his command, veteran troops, 
 with whom he had often scoured the borders, and he daily 
 expected the old Moorish king with reinforcements. 
 
 Old Ali Atar had watched, from his fortress, every move- 
 ment of the Christian army, and had exulted in all the errors 
 
BOTAL EXPEDITION AGAINST LOXA. 
 
 89 
 
 of its commanders. When he beheld the flower of Spanish 
 chivah-y glittering about the height of Albohacen, his eye 
 flushed with exultation. '• By the aid of Allah," said he, 
 " I will give these prankling cavaliers a rouse." 
 
 Ali Atar privately, and by night, sent forth a large body of 
 his chosen troops, to lie in ambush near one of the skirts of 
 Albohacen. On the fourth day of the siege, he sallied across 
 the bridge, and made a feigned attack upon the height. ITie 
 cavaliers rushed impetuously forth to meet him, leaving their 
 encampments almost unprotected. Ali Atar wheeled and 
 fled, and was hastily pursued. When the Christian cavaliers 
 had been drawn a considerable distance from their encamp- 
 ments, they heard a vast shout behind them, and, looking 
 round, beheld their encampment assailed by the Moorish 
 force, which had been placed in ambush, and had ascended a 
 difierent side of the hill. 
 
 The cavaliers desisted from the pursuit, and hastened to 
 prevent the plunder of their tents. Ali Atar in his turn 
 wheeled and pursued them ; and they were attacked in front 
 and rear on the summit of the hill. The contest lasted for an 
 hour ; the height of Albohacen was red with blood ; many 
 brave cavaliers fell, expiring among heaps of the enemy. 
 The fierce Ali Atar fought with the furj- of a demon, imtil 
 the aiTival of more Christian forces compelled him to retreat 
 into the city. The severest loss to the Christians in this 
 ekirmish was that of lloderigo Tellez Giron, master of Cala- 
 trava : as he was raising his arm to make a blow, an arrow 
 pierced him, just beneath the shoulder, at the open part of 
 the corslet. He fell instantly from his horse, but was caught 
 by Pedro Gasca, a cavalier of Avila, who conveyed him to his 
 tent, where he died. The king and queen and the whole 
 kingdom mourned his death ; for he was in the freshness of his 
 youth, being but twenty-four years of age, and had proved 
 himself a gallant and high-minded cavalier. A melancholy 
 group collected about his corse, on the bloody height of Al- 
 bohacen : the knights of Calatrava mounied him as a com- 
 mander ; the cavaliers, who were encamped on the height, 
 lamented him as their companion in arms in a service of perils, 
 while the Count of Urefia grieved over him with the tender 
 afiection of a brother. 
 
 King Ferdinand now perceived the wisdom of the o])inion 
 of the Marquis of Cadiz, and that his force was quite in- 
 
 t- ': I 
 
— re»«Lpat^ (Hr « rB i »i ( III 
 
 40 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 sufficient for the enterprise. To continue his camp in its pre- 
 sent unfortunate position would cost him the lives of his 
 bravest cavaliers, if not a total defeat, in case of reinforce- 
 ments to the enemy. He called a council of war late in the 
 evening of Saturday ; and it was determined to withdraw the 
 army, early the next morning, to Rio Frio, a short distance 
 from the city, and there wait for additional troops from 
 Cordova. The next morning early, the cavaliers on the 
 height of Albohacen began to strike their tents. No sooner 
 did Ali Atar behold this, than he sallied forth to attack them. 
 Many of the Christian troops, who had not heard of the inten- 
 tion to change the camp, seeing the tents struck, and the 
 Moors sallying forth, supposed that the enemy had been re- 
 inforced in the night, and that the army was on the point of 
 retreating. Without stopping to ascertain the truth, or to 
 receive orders, they fled in dismay, spreading confusion 
 through the camp ; nor did they halt until they had reached 
 the Rock of the Lovers, about seven leagues from Loxa.* 
 
 The king and his commanders saw the imminent peril oi 
 the moment, and made face to the Moors, each commander 
 guarding his quarter, and repelling all assaults, while the 
 tents were struck, and the artillery and ammimition conveyed 
 away. The king, with a handful of cavaliers, galloped to a 
 rising ground, exposed to the fire of the enemy, calling upon 
 the flying troops, and endeavouring in vain to rally them. 
 Setting upon the Moors, he and his cavaliers charged them so 
 vigorously, that they put a squadron to flight, slaying many 
 with their swords and lances, and driving others into the 
 river, where they were drowned. The Moors, however, were 
 soon reinforced, and returned in great numbers. The king 
 was in danger of being surrounded : the Moors assailed him 
 furiously ; and twice he owed his safety to the valour of Don 
 Juan dc Ribera, senior of Montemayor. 
 
 The Marquis of Cadiz beheld from a distance the peril of 
 his sovereign. Summoning about seventy horsemen to follow 
 him, he galloped to the spot, threw himself between the king 
 and the enemy, and, hurling his lance, transpierced one of the 
 most daring of the Moors. For some time he remained with 
 no other weapon than his sword ; his horse was wounded by 
 an arrow, and many of his followers were slain ; but he 
 succeeded in beating ofi" the ISIoors, and rescuing the king 
 
 * Pulgar, Cronica. . ...- 
 
 
BOYAL EXPEDITION AGAINST LOXA. 
 
 41 
 
 8 pre- 
 af his 
 force- 
 n the 
 iw the 
 stance 
 from 
 
 Dn the 
 sooner 
 them, 
 inten- 
 
 nd the 
 
 from imminent jeopardy, whom he then prevailed upon to re- 
 tire to less dangerous ground. 
 
 The marquis continued throughout the day to expose him- 
 self to the repeated assaults of the enemy. He was ever 
 found in the place of greatest danger, and through his bravery 
 a great part of the army and the camp was preserved from 
 destruction.* It was a jwrilous day for the commanders ; for, 
 in a retreat of the kind, it is the noblest cavaliers who most 
 expose themselves, to save their people. The Duke of Medina 
 Cell was struck to the ground, but rescued by his troops. 
 The Count of Tendilla, whose tents were nearest to the city, 
 received several wounds; and various other cavaliers of the 
 most distinguished note were exposed to fearful hazard. The 
 whole day was passed in bloody skirmishings, in which the 
 hidalgos and cavaliers of the royal household distinguished 
 themselves by their bravery. At length, the encampments 
 being all broken up, and most of the artillery and baggage re- 
 moved, the bloody height of Albohacen was abandoned, and 
 the neighbourhood of Loxa evacuated. Several tents, a quan- 
 tity of provisions, and a few pieces of artillery, were left upon 
 the spot, from the want of horses or mules to carry them olf. 
 
 Ali Atar hung upon the rear of the retiring army, and 
 harassed it until it reached Rio Frio. From thence PVrdiuand 
 returned to Cordova, deeply mortified, though greatly bene- 
 fited, by the severe lesson he had received, which served to 
 render him more cautious in his campaigns, and more diffi- 
 dent of fortime. He sent letters to all parts excusing his 
 retreat, imputing it to the small number of his forces, and the 
 circumstance, that many of them were quotas sent from 
 various cities, and not in royal pay. In the mean time, 
 to console his troops for their disappointment, and to keep up 
 their spirits, he led them upon another inroad, to lay waste 
 the vega of Granada. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Old Muley Aben Hassan had mustered an army, and 
 marched to the relief of Loxa ; but arrived too late. The 
 last squadron of Ferdinand had already passed over the 
 border. " They have come and gone," said he, " like a 
 summer cloud, and all their vaunting has been mere empty 
 * Cura dc los Palacios, c. 58. 
 
THE COXqrEST OF chanada. 
 
 ,1 
 
 thunder." He turned, to make another attempt upon Al- 
 hama, the garrison of which was in the utmost consternation 
 at the retreat of Ferdinand, and would liave deserted the 
 place, had it not been for the courage and perseverance of the 
 alcayde, Luis Fernandez Puerto Carrero. ITiat brave and 
 loyal commander cheered up the s])irit8 of tlie nien, and kept 
 the old Moorish king at bay, until the approach of Ferdinand, 
 on his second incursion into the vcga, obliged him to make an 
 unwilling retreat to Malaga. 
 
 Muley Aben Hassan felt, that it would be in vain, with his 
 inferior force, to oppose the i)owerful army of the Christian 
 monarch ; but to remain idle, and see his territories laid 
 waste, would ruin him in the estimation of his j^eople. " If 
 ■we cannot parry," said he, " we can strike : if we cannot 
 keep our own lands from being ravaged, we can ravage the 
 lands of the enemy." He inquired, and learned that most of 
 the chivalry of Andalusia, in their eagerness for a foray, had 
 marched off with the king, and left their own country almost 
 defenceless. The territories of the Uuke of Medina Sidonia 
 were particularly unguarded. Here were vast plains of pas- 
 turage, covered with flocks and herds ; the very coimtry for a 
 hasty inroad. The old monarch had a bitter grudge against 
 the duke, for having foiled him at Alhama. " I'll give this 
 cavalier a lesson," said he, exultingly, " that will cure him 
 of his love of campaigning." So he prepared in all haste for 
 a forage into the country about Medina Sidonia. 
 
 Muley Aben Hassan sallied out of Malaga with fifteen hun- 
 dred horse and six thousand foot, and took the way by the 
 sea-coast, marching through Estcponia and entering the Chris- 
 tian country between Gibraltar and Castellar. The only 
 person that was likely to molest him on this route was one 
 Pedro de Vargas, a shrewd, hardy, and vigilant soldier, 
 alcayde of Gibraltar, aiul who lay ensconced in his old 
 warrior-rock as in a citadel. Muley Aben Hassan knew the 
 watchful and daring character of the man ; but had ascer- 
 tained, that his garrison was too small to enable him to make 
 a sally, or at least to assure him any success. Still he ])ursued 
 his march with great silence and caution ; sent parties in 
 advance, to explore every pjiss where a foe might lie in 
 ambush, cast many an anxious eye towards the old rock of 
 Gibraltar, as its cloud-ca])t summit wa^ scon towering in the 
 distance ou his left ; nor did he feel entirely at case, until he 
 
MVLET ADEN HASSAN 8 FORAY. 
 
 43 
 
 had passed through the broken and mountainous country of 
 Castellar, and descended into the plains. Here he encamped, 
 on the banks of the Celemin. From hence he sent four hun- 
 dred corredors, or fleet horsemen, armed with hinces, who 
 were to station themselves near Algeziras, and to keep a strict 
 watch, across the bay, upon the opposite fortress of Gibraltar. 
 
 If the alcayde attempted to sally forth, they were to way- 
 lay and attack him, being almost four times his supposed 
 force, and were to send swift tidings to the camp. 
 
 In the meantime, two hundred corredors were despatched 
 to scour that vast plain called the Campifia de Tarifa, abound- 
 ing with flocks and herds, and two hundred more were to 
 ravage the lands about Medina Sidonia. Muley Aben Hassan 
 remained with the main body of the army as a rallying point 
 on the banks of the Celemin. The foraging ])arties scoured 
 the country to such etfect, that they came driving vast flocks 
 and herds before them, enough to supply the place of all that 
 had been swept from the vega of Granada. The troops which 
 had kept watch upon the rock of Gibraltar returned, with 
 word, that they had not seen a Christian helmet stirring. The 
 old king congratulated himself upon the secrecy and prompt- 
 ness with which he had conducted his foray, and u|)on having 
 baffled the vigilance of Pedro de Vargas. 
 
 Muley Aben Hassan had not been so secret as he imagined. 
 The watchful Pedro de Vurgtis had received notice of his 
 movements. His gairison was barely suflicient for the defence 
 of the place, and he feared to take the fleld, and leave his 
 fortress unguarded. Luckily, at this juncture, thci*e arrived 
 in the harbour of Gibraltar a squadron of the armed galleys 
 stationed in the strait, and commanded by Carlos de Valera. 
 The alcayde immediately prevailed upon him to guard the 
 place during his absence, and sallied forth at midniglit with 
 seventv horse. He made for the town of Castellar, which is 
 strongly posted on a steep height, knowing that the Moc^rish 
 king would have to return by this place. He ordered alarm 
 flres to be I'ghtiHl upon the mountanis. to give notice that the 
 Moors were on the ravage, that the peasants might drive the 
 flocks and herds to places of refuge : and he sent couriers, 
 riding at full speed in every direction, summoning the ligliting 
 men of the neighlK)urh«)od to meet him at Castellar. M uley 
 Aben Hassan saw, by the tires |)lazing about the mouutuius, 
 that the country was rising. 
 
 ) i 
 
44 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GKAXADA. 
 
 He struck his tents, and pushed forward as rapidly as pos- 
 sible for the boi'dor ; but he was encumbered with booty, and 
 with the vast cavalgada swept from the pastures of the Cam- 
 piila of Tarifa. His scouts brought him word, that there were 
 troops in the field; but he made light of the intelligence, 
 knowing that they could only be those of the alcayde of Gib- 
 ralUir, and that he had not more than a hundred horsemen in 
 his garrison. He threw in advance two hundred and fifty of 
 his bravest troops, and with them the alcaydes of Miirabilla 
 and Casares. Behind this vangtxard was a great cavalgada of 
 cattle, and in the rear marched the king, with the main force 
 of his little army. It was near the middle of a sultry summer 
 day, that they approached Castellar. De Vargas was on the 
 watch ; and beheld, by an immense cloud of dust, that they 
 were descending one of the heights of that wild and broken 
 co\uitry. The van-guard and rear-guard were above half a 
 league asunder, with the cavalgada between them, and a long 
 and close forest hid them from each other. De Vargas saw, 
 that they could render but little assistance to each other, in 
 case of a sudden attack, and might be easily thi'own into con- 
 fusion. He chose fifty of his bravest horsemen, and, making a 
 circuit, took his post secretly in a narrow glen, opening into 
 a defile between two rocky heights, through which the Moors 
 had to pass. It was his intention to suffer the vanguard and 
 the cavalgada to pass, and to fall upon the rear. 
 
 While thus lying perdue, six Moorish scouts, well mounted 
 and well armed, entered the glen, examining every place that 
 might conpcal an enemy. Some of the Christians advised, 
 that they should slay these six men, and retreat to Gibraltar. 
 " No," said De Vargas ; " I have come out for higher game 
 than tliosc, and I hope, by the aid of God and Santiago, to do 
 good work this day. I know these Moors well, and doubt not 
 but that they may readily be thrown into confusion." 
 
 By this time the six scouts approached so near, that they 
 were on the^oint of discovering the Christian ambush. De 
 Vargas gav6 the word, and ten horsemen nished forth upon 
 them. In an instant, four of the Moors rolled in the dust ; 
 the other two put spurs to their steeds, and fled towards their 
 army, pursued by tlie ten Christians. About eighty of the 
 Moorish vanguard came galloping to the relief of their com- 
 
 E anions : the ^'hristinns turned, luul fled towards their am- 
 ush. De Vargas kept his men concealed, until the fugitives 
 
MULEY ABEX HASSAN's FORAY. 
 
 45 
 
 as pos* 
 ooty, and 
 the Cam- 
 icre were 
 L'lligence, 
 i of Gib- 
 semen in 
 
 fifty of 
 Miirabilla 
 algada of 
 laiii force 
 y summer 
 IS on the 
 hat they 
 d broken 
 vc half a 
 ud a long 
 rgas saw, 
 other, in 
 into con- 
 making a 
 ning into 
 he Moors 
 ^ard and 
 
 mounted 
 )lacc that 
 advised, 
 jribraltar. 
 ler game 
 go, to do 
 doubt not 
 
 that they 
 lish. Do 
 rth upon 
 the dust ; 
 irds their 
 ty of the 
 leir cora- 
 :heir am- 
 fugitives 
 
 f 
 
 and their pursuers came clattering pell-mell into the glen : at 
 a signal trumpet, his men sallied forth, with great heat, and 
 in close array. The Moors almost rushed upon their weapons 
 before they perceived them. Forty of the infidels were over- 
 thrown ; the rest turned their backs. " Forward !' cried De 
 Vargas : " let us give the van-guard a brush before it can be 
 joined by the rear " So saying, he pursued the flying Moors 
 down the hill, and came with such ibrce and fury upon the 
 advance guard, as to overthrow many of them at the first 
 encounter. As he wheeled off with his men. the Moors dis- 
 charged their lances, u})ou which he returned to the charge, 
 and made great slaughter. The Moors fought valiantly for a 
 short time, xmtil the alcaydcs of Marabilla and Casares were 
 .slain, when they gave way, and fled for the rear-guard. In 
 *hc\r flight, they passed through the cavalgada of cattle, 
 th. "• ♦he whole in confusion, and raised such a cloud of dust, 
 !i *. I i Christians could no longer distinguish objects. 
 If " i.xg the king and the main body might be at hand, and 
 finding that De Vargas was severely wounded, they con- 
 tented themselves with despoiling the slain, and taking above 
 twenty-eight horses, and then returned to Castellar. 
 
 Wlien tiie routed Moors came flying back on the rear-guard, 
 Muley Aben Hassan feared that the people of Xeres were in 
 arms. Several of his followers advised him to abandon the 
 cavalgada, and retreat by another road. " No," said the old 
 king ; '* he is no tme soldier who gives up his booty without 
 fighting." Putting spurs to his horse, he galloped forward 
 through the centre of the cavalgada, di-iving the cattle to the 
 right and left. When he reached tlie field of battle, he found 
 it strewed with the bodies of upwards of one hundred Moors, 
 among which were those of the two alcaydcs. ICnraged at 
 the sight, he summoned all his crossbowmen and cavalry, 
 pushed on to the very gates of Castellar, and set fire to two 
 houses close to the walls. Pedi'o de Vargas was unable from 
 his wound to sally fortli in jierson ; but he ordered out his 
 troops, and there was brisk skirmishing under the walls, until 
 the king drew off, and returned to the scene of the re(;ent 
 encounter. Here he had the Imdies of the principal warriors 
 laid across mules, to be interred honourably at Malaga. The 
 rest of the sliiin were buried in the field of battle. Gathering 
 together the scattered eavalgadti, he paraded it slowly, in an iin- 
 mcDse line, past the walls of Castellar, by way of taunting his foe. 
 
 !l 
 
 ih:' 
 I?- 
 
46 
 
 THE C0XQUE8T OF GRAXADA. 
 
 '^ 
 
 With all his fierceness, old Muley Aben Hassan had a 
 gleam of warlike courtesy, and admired the hardy and soldier- 
 like character of Pedro de Vargas. He summoned two 
 Christian captives, and demanded, what were the revenues o? 
 the alcayde of Gibraltar. They told him, that, among other 
 things, he was entitled to one out of every drove of cattle that 
 passed his boundaries. "Alia forbid!" cried the old 
 monarch, " that so brave a cavalier should be defrauded of 
 his right. He immediately chose twelve of the finest cattle 
 from the twelve droves which formed the cavalgada. These 
 he gave in charge to an alfaqui, to deliver them to Pedro de 
 Vargas. " Tell hira," said he, " that I crave his pardon for 
 not having sent these cattle sooner ; but I have this moment 
 learned the nature of his rights, and I hasten to satisfy 
 them with the punctuality due to so worthy a cavalier. Tell 
 him at the same time, that I had no idea the alcayde of Gib- 
 raltjir was so active and vigilant in collecting his tolls." 
 
 The brave alcayde relished the stern, soldier-like pleasantry 
 of the old Moorish monarch, and replied in the same tone. 
 "Tell his majesty." said he, "that I kiss his hands for the 
 honour he has done me, and regret that my scanty force has 
 not permitted me to give him a more signal reception on his 
 coining into these parts. Had three hundred horsemen, 
 whom I have been promised from Xeres, arrived in time, I 
 miglit have served up an entertainment more befitting such a 
 mmiarch. I trust, however, they will arrive in the course of 
 the night, in which case his majesty may be sure of a royal 
 regale at the dawning."' 
 
 lie then ordered, that a rich silken vest and scai'let mantle 
 should be given to the uliaqui, and dismissed him with great 
 courtesy. 
 
 Muley Aben Hassan shook his head when he received the 
 reply of De Vargas. " Alia preserve us," said he, " from any 
 visitation of these hard riders of Xeres ! A handful of troops, 
 acquainted with the wild pa8S(>s of these mountains, may 
 destroy an army encumbered as ours is with booty." 
 
 It was some relief to the King, however, to learn that the 
 hardy aleayde of Gibraltar was too severely wounded to take 
 the field in person. He immediately beat a retreat with all 
 speed, hurrying with such precipitation, that the cavalgada 
 was fre(}uently broken and scattered among the rugged defiles 
 of the mountains, and above five thousand of the cattle turned 
 
FOBAY OF THE SPANISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 47 
 
 san had a 
 id soldier- 
 oned two 
 jveuues of 
 ong other 
 cattle that 
 the old 
 frauded of 
 lest cattle 
 a. These 
 
 Pedro de 
 tardon for 
 s moment 
 to satisfy 
 ier. Tell 
 le of Gib- 
 lls." 
 
 pleasantry 
 ame tone, 
 ds for the 
 
 force has 
 ion on his 
 horsemen, 
 in time, I 
 ng such a 
 
 course of 
 uf a royal 
 
 let mantle 
 vith great 
 
 peived the 
 ' i'rom any 
 1 of troops, 
 ains, may 
 
 n that the 
 led to take 
 at with all 
 caTulgada 
 ged defiles 
 ttle turned 
 
 back, and were regained by the Christians. Muley Aben 
 Hassan proceeded triumphantly with the residue to Malaga, 
 glorying in the spoils of the Duke of Medina Sidonia. 
 
 King Ferdinand was mortified at finding his incursion into 
 the vega of Granada counterbalanced by this incursion into 
 his own dominions, and saw that there were two sides to the 
 game of war, as to all other games. The only one who reaped 
 real glory in this series of inroads and skirmishings was Pedro 
 de Vargas, the stout alcayde of Gibraltar.* 
 
 CHAPTER XH. 
 
 The foray of old Muley Aben Hassan had touched the 
 pride of the Andalusian chivalry, and they determined on 
 retaliation. For this purpose, a number of the most distin- 
 guished cavaliers assembled at Antequera in the month of 
 March, 1483. The leaders of the enterprise were the gallant 
 Marquis of Cadiz, Don Pedro Henriquez, adelantado of 
 Andalusia, Don Juan de Silva, Count of Cifuentes, and bearer 
 of the royal standard, who commanded in Seville, Don Alonzo 
 de Cardenas, master of the religious and military order of 
 Santiago, and Don Alonzo de Aguilar. Several other cava- 
 liers of note hastened to take part in the enterprise, and in a 
 little time, about twenty-seven hundred horse and several 
 companies of foot were assembled within the old warlike city 
 of Antequera, comprising the very fiower of Andalusian 
 chivalry. A council of war was held by the chiefs, to deter- 
 mine in wliat quarter they should strike a blow. The rival 
 Moorish kings were waging civil war with each other in the 
 vicinity of Granada, and the whole country lay open to inroad. 
 Various plans were proposed by the ditt'erent cavaliers. The 
 Marquis of Cadiz was desirous of sciding the walls of Zahara, 
 and regaining possession of that important fortress. The 
 master of Santiago, however, suggested a wider range, and a 
 still more important object. lie had received information, 
 from his adalides, who were apostate Moors, that an incursion 
 might be made with safety into a mountainous region near 
 Malaga, called the Axarquia. Here were valleys of pasture- 
 land, well stocked with flocks and herds : and there were 
 numerous villages and hamlets, whic^h would be an easy prey. 
 • Alonzo de Palcncia, lib. xxviii. c. 8. 
 
 i ill 
 
 I. -13 
 
 
48 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 li 
 
 ill 
 
 
 f 
 
 HI 
 
 The city of Malaga was too weakly garrisoned, and had too 
 few cavalry, to send forth any force in opposition. And 
 he added that they might extend their ravages to its very 
 gates, and pcradventure carry that wealthy place by 
 sudden assault. The adventurous spirits of {he cavaliers 
 were inflamed by this suggestion : in their sanguine confidence 
 they already bclxeld Malaga in their power, and they were 
 eager for the enterprise. Tlie Marquis, of Cadiz endeavoured 
 to interpose a little cool caution : he likewise had apostate 
 adalides, the most intelligent and experienced on the borders. 
 Among these, he placed especial reliance on one, named Luis 
 Amar, who knew all the mountains and valleys of the 
 country, lie had received from him a particular account 
 of these mountains of the Axarquia.* ITieir savage 
 and broken nature was a sufficient defence for the fierce 
 people that inhabited them, who, manning their rocks and 
 their tremendous passes, which were often nothing more than 
 the deep, dry bed of torrents, might set whole armies at 
 defiance. Even if vanquished, they afforded no spoil to the 
 victor ; their houses were little better than bare walls, and 
 they would drive off their scanty flocks and herds to the 
 fortresses of tlie mountains. The sober council of the Marquis 
 was overruled. The cavaliers, accustomed to mountain 
 warfare, considered themselves and their horses equal to any 
 wild and rugged expedition, and were flushed with the idea of 
 a brilliant assault upon Malaga. Leaving all hea>'y baggage 
 at Antequera, and all such as had horses too weak for this 
 mountiiin scramble, they set forth, full of spirits and con- 
 iidenee. Don Alonzo de Aguilar and the adelantado of 
 Andalusia led the squadron of advance; the Count of 
 Cifuentes followed, with certain of the chivalry of Seville : 
 then came the battalion of the most valiant lloderigo Ponce 
 de Leon, Marquis of Cadiz ; he was accompanied by several 
 of hia brothers and nephews, and many cavaliers who sought 
 distinction under his banner; and as this family band paraded 
 in martial state through the streets of Antequera, they attracted 
 universal attention and applause. The rear-guard was led by 
 Don Alonzo Cardenas, master of Santiago, and was composed 
 
 * I'tilgar, in his chronicle, reverses the case, and mnkcs the Marquid 
 of Cadiz recommend the expedition to the Axarquia ; but Fray i\ntoDio 
 Agapida is mipported ia hitt statement by that must veracious and con- 
 temporary chronicler, Andrea Hernaldo, curate of Los Palaclos. 
 
 \ 
 
FORAY OF THE SPANISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 49 
 
 lad too 
 And 
 its very 
 ace by 
 avaliers 
 nfidence 
 ey were 
 avoured 
 apostate 
 borders, 
 led Luis 
 
 of the 
 account 
 
 savage 
 le fierce 
 >cks and 
 lore than 
 miies at 
 n\ to the 
 alls, and 
 
 to the 
 ! Marquis 
 mountain 
 lal to any 
 le idea of 
 ■ baggage 
 k for this 
 and con- 
 intado of 
 Coiuit of 
 f Seville ; 
 Igo Ponce 
 by several 
 ho sought 
 d paraded 
 ' attracted 
 vns led by 
 composed 
 
 tho Marquid 
 ray Antonio 
 )U8 and coU' 
 sioH. 
 
 of the knights of his order, and the cavaliers of Ecija, with 
 certain men at arms of the holy brotherhood, whom the king 
 had placed under his command. The army was attended by 
 a great train of mules, laden with provisions for a few days' 
 supply, until they should be able to forage among the Moorish 
 villages. Never did a more gallant and self-confident little 
 army tread the earth. It was composed of men full of health 
 and vigour, to whom war was a pastime and delight. They 
 had spared no expense in their equipments ; for never was 
 the pomp of war carried to a higher pitch than among the 
 proud chivalrj of Spain. Cased in armour, richly inlaid and 
 embossed, decked with rich surcoats and waving plumes, and 
 superbly mounted on Andalusian steeds, they pranced out of 
 Antequera, with banners flying, and their various devices and 
 armorial bearings ostentatiously displayed ; and, in the con- 
 fidence of their hopes, promised the inhabitants to enrich 
 them with the spoils of Malaga. In the rear of this warlike 
 pageant followed a peaceful band, intent upon profiting by 
 the anticipated victories. They were not the customary 
 wretches that hover about armies, to plimder and strip the 
 dead; but goodly and substantial traders, from Seville, Cordova, 
 and other cities of traflic. They rode sleek mules, and were 
 clad in fair raiment, with long leathern purses at their girdles, 
 well filled with pistoles and other golden coin. They had 
 heard of the spoils wasted by the soldiery at the capture of 
 Alhama, and were provided with monies to buy up the jewels 
 and precious stones, the vessels of gold and silver, and the rich 
 silks and cloths, that should from the plunder of Malaga. The 
 proud cavaliers eyed these sons of traffic with great disdain, 
 but permitted them to follow, for the convenience of the 
 troops, who might otherwise be overburdened with booty. 
 
 It had been intended to conduct this expedition with great 
 celerity and secrecy ; but the noise of their preparations had 
 already reached the city of Malaga. The garrison, it is true, 
 was weak, but the commander was himself a host. This was 
 Muley Abdallah, commonly called El Zagal, or, "the valiant." 
 He was younger brother of Muley Aben Hassan, and general 
 of the few forces which remained faithful to the old monarch. 
 He possessed equal fierceness of npirit with liis brother, and 
 surpassed him in craft and vigilance. His very name was a 
 war cry among his soldiery, who had the most extravagant 
 opinion of his prowess. 
 
 s ; 
 
m 
 
 THE CONQUESX OF OBANADA. 
 
 El Zagal suspected that Malaga was the object of this 
 noisy expedition. He consulted with old Bexir, a veteran 
 Moor, who governed the city. " If this army of marauders 
 were to reach Malaga," said he, " we should hardly be able to 
 keep them without its walls. I will throw myself, with a 
 small force, into the mountains, rouse the peasantry, take 
 possession of the passes, and endeavour to give these Spanish 
 cavaliers sufficient entertainment upon the road." 
 
 It was on a Wednesday that the prankling army of high- 
 mettled warriors issued from the ancient gates of Antequera. 
 They marched all day and night, making their way secretly, 
 as they supposed, through the passes of the mountains. As 
 the tract of country they intended to maraud was far in the 
 Moorish territories, near the coast of the Mediterranean, they 
 did not arrive there until late in the following day. In passing 
 through thcT stern and lofty mountains, their path was often 
 along the bottom of a baixanco, or deep rocky valley, with a 
 scanty stream dashing along it, among the loose rocks and 
 stones which it had broken and rolled down in the time of its 
 autumnal violence. Sometimes their road was a mere rambla, 
 or dry bed of a torrent, cut deep into the mountains, and 
 filled with their shattered fragments. These barrancas and 
 ramblas were overhung by immense cliffs and precipices, 
 forming the lurking places of ambuscades during the wars 
 between the Moors and Spaniards, as in after times they have 
 become the favourite haunts of robbers to waylay the unfor- 
 tunate traveller. 
 
 As the sun went down, the cavaliers came to a lofty part of 
 the mountains, commanding, to their right, a distant glimpse 
 of a part of the fair vega of Malaga, with the blue Mediter- 
 ranean beyond, and they hailed it with exultation as a glimpse 
 of the promised land. As the night closed in, they reached 
 the chain of little valleys and hamlets, locked up among these 
 rocky heights, and known among the Moors by the name of 
 the Axarquia. Here their vaimting hopes were destined to 
 meet with the first disappointment. The inhabitants had 
 heard of their approach; they had conveyed away their 
 cattle and effects, and, with their wives and children, had 
 taken ref>ige in the towers and fortresses of the mountains. 
 Enraged at their disappointment, the troops set fire to the 
 deserted houses, and pressed forward, hoping for better 
 fortune as they advanced. Don Alonzo de Aguilar, and 
 
rORAT OP TUB SPANISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 n 
 
 the other cavaliers in the van-guard, spread out their 
 forces, to lay waste the country ; capturing a few lingering 
 herds of cattle, with the Moorish peasants who were driving 
 them to some place of safet)'. While this marauding party 
 carried fire and sword in the advance, and lit up the mountain 
 cliffs with the flames of the hamlets, the master of Santiago, 
 who brought up the rear-guard, maintained strict order, keep- 
 ing his knights together in martial array, ready for attack or 
 defence should an enemy appear. The men-at-arms of the 
 Holy Brotherhood attempted to roam in quest of booty ; but 
 he OEdled them back, and rebxiked them severely. 
 
 At length they came to a part of the moimtain completely 
 broken up by barrancas and ramblas of vast depth, and 
 shagged with rocks and precipices. It was impossible to 
 maintain the order of march; the horses had no room for 
 action, and were scarcely manageable, having to scramble 
 from rock to rock, and up and down frightful declivities, 
 where there was scarce footing for a mountain goat. Passing 
 by a burning village, the light of the flames revealed their 
 perplexed situation. The Moors, who had taken refuge in a 
 watchtower on an impending height, shouted with exultation 
 when they looked down upon these glistering cavaliers, 
 struggUng and stumbling among the rocks. Sallying forth 
 from their tower, they took possession of the cliffs which 
 overhimg the rav-ine, and huiied darts and stones ui)on the 
 enemy. It was with the utmost grief of heart, that the good 
 master of Santiago beheld his brave men falling like helpless 
 victims aroimd him, without the means of resistance or 
 revenge. The confusion of his followers was increased by the 
 shouts of the Moors, multiplied by the echoes of every crag 
 and cliff, as if they were surrounded by innumerable foes. 
 Being entirely ignorant of the country, in their struggles to 
 extricate themselves they plunged into other glens and 
 defiles, where they were still more exposed to danger. In 
 this extremity, the master of Santiago despatched messengers 
 in search of succour. The Marquis of Cadiz, like a loyal 
 companion in arms, hastened to his aid with his cavalrj'. 
 His approach checked the assaults of the enemy ; and the 
 master was at length enabled to extricate his troops from the 
 defile. In the meantime, Don Alonzo de Aguilar and his 
 companions, in theii* eager advance, had likewise got entangled 
 in deep glens, and dry beds of torrents, where they had been 
 
 E 2 
 
1^1 
 
 m THE COXQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 severely galled by the insulting attacks of a handful of 
 Moorish peasants, posted on the impending precipices. The 
 proud spirit of Dc Aguilar was incensed at ha^ang the game 
 of war thus turned upon him, and his gallant forces domineered 
 over, by mountain boors, whom he had thought to drive, like 
 their own cattle, to Antequera. Hearing, however, that the 
 Marquis of Cadiz and the master of Santiago were engaged 
 with the enemy, he disregarded his own danger, and calling 
 together his troops, returned to assist them, or rather, to 
 partake of their perils. Being once more assembled together, 
 the cavaliers held a hasty council, amidst the hurling of stones 
 and whistling of arrows ; and their resolves were quickened 
 by the sight, from time to time, of some gallant companion in 
 arms laid low. They determined, that there was no spoil in 
 this part of the country to repay the extraordinary peril ; and 
 that it was better to abandon the herds they had already 
 taken, which only embarrassed their march, and to retreat 
 with all speed to less dangerous ground. 
 
 The adalides or guides were ordered to lead the way out of 
 this place of carnage. These, thinking to conduct them by 
 the most secure route, led them by a steep and rocky pass, 
 difficult to the foot soldiers, but almost impracticable to the 
 cavalry. It was overhung with precipices, whence showers of 
 stones and arrows were poured upon them, accompanied by 
 savage yells, which appalled the stoutest heart. In some 
 places they could pass but one at a time, and were often trans- 
 pierced, horse and rider, by the Moorish darts ; the progress 
 of their comrades impeded by their dying struggles. The 
 surrounding precipices were lit up by a thousand alarm fires, 
 and every crag and cliff had its flames, by the light of which 
 they beheld their foes bounding from rock to rock, and looking 
 more like fiends than mortal men. Either through ten-or and 
 confusion, or through real ignorance of the country, their 
 guides, instead of conducting them out of the mountains, led 
 them deeper into their fatal recesses. The morning dawned 
 upon them in a narrow rambla, its bottom filled with broken 
 rocks, where once had raved along the mountain torrent, 
 while above them beetled huge arid cliffs, over the brows of 
 which they beheld the turbaned heads of their fierce and ex- 
 ulting foes. What a different appearance did the unfortunate 
 cavaliers present, from the gallant band that marched so 
 Tauntingly out of Antequera Covered with dust and blood 
 
FOBAY OF THE SPANISH CAVAITKPS. 
 
 53 
 
 Iful of 
 , The 
 I game 
 neered 
 re, like 
 lat the 
 ngaged 
 calling 
 her, to 
 gether, 
 f stones 
 Lckcned 
 inion in 
 spoil in 
 il; and 
 already 
 retreat 
 
 y out of 
 hem by 
 cy pass, 
 B to the 
 )wers of 
 mied by 
 n some 
 n titins- 
 )rogres8 
 The 
 rm fires, 
 which 
 looking 
 nor and 
 y, their 
 ins, led 
 dawned 
 broken 
 torrent, 
 jrows of 
 and ex- 
 brtunate 
 •ched so 
 id blood 
 
 and wounds, and haggard with fatigue and horror, they looked 
 like victims rather than warriors. Many of tht'ir banners 
 were lost, and not a trumpet was heard, to rally their sinking 
 spirits. The men turned with imploring eyes to their com- 
 manders, while the hearts of the cavaliers were ready to burst 
 with rage and grief, at the merciless havoc made among theii* 
 faithful followers. 
 
 All day they made ineffectual attempts to extricate them- 
 selves from the mountains. Columns of smoke rose fiom the 
 heights where, in the preceding night, had blazed the alarm 
 fire. The mountaineers assembled from every direction : they 
 swarmed at every pass, getting in the advance of the Christians, 
 and garrisoning the cliffs like so many towers and battlements. 
 
 Night closed again upon the Cliristians, when they were 
 shut up in a narrow valley, traversed by a deep stream, and 
 surrounded by precipices that seemed to reach the skies, and 
 on which the alarm fires blazed and flared. Suddenly a new 
 cry was heard resounding along the valley. " El Zagal ! El 
 Zagal !" echoed from cliff to cliff. " What cry is that ?" said 
 the master of Santiago. " It is the war cry of El Zagal, the 
 Moorish general," said an old Castilian soldier : he must be 
 coming in person with the troops of Malaga." 
 
 The worthy master turned to his knights : " Let us die," 
 said he, '* making a road with our hearts, since we cannot 
 with our swords. Let us scale the mountain, and sell our 
 lives dearly, instead of staying here to be tamely butchered." 
 
 So saying, he turned his steed against the mountain, and 
 spurred him up its flinty side. Horse and foot followed his 
 example ; eager, if they could not escape, to have at least a dying 
 blow at the enemy. As they stniggled up the height, a tre- 
 mendous storm of darts and stones was showered upon them 
 by the Moors. Sometimes a fragment of rock came bounding 
 and thundering down, ploughing its way through the centre 
 of their host. The foot soldiers, faint with weariness and 
 hunger, or crippled by wounds, held by the tails and manes of 
 the horses, to aid them in their ascent, while the horses, 
 losing their footing among the loose stones, or receiving some 
 sudden wound, tumbled down the steep declivity, steed, rider, 
 and soldier rolling from crag to crag, until they were dashed 
 to pieces in the valley. In this desperate struggle, the alferez, 
 or standard-bearer of the master, with his standard, was lost, 
 as were many of his relations and his dearest friends. At 
 
54 
 
 THE CONQUEST OP GRANADA. 
 
 length he succeeded in attaining the crest of the mountain, 
 but it was only to be plunged in new difficulties. A wilder- 
 ness of rocks and nigged dells lay before him, beset by cruel 
 foes. Having neither banner nor trumpet, by which to rally 
 his troops, they wandered apart, each intent upon saving him- 
 self from the precipices of the mountains and the darts of the 
 enemy. When the pious master of Santiago beheld the scat- 
 tered fragments of his late gallant force, he could not restrain 
 his grief. " O God !" exclaimed he, " great is thine anger 
 this day against thy servants ! Thou hast converted the 
 cowardice of these infidels into desperate valour, and hast 
 made peasants and boors victorious over armed men of battle !" 
 
 He would ftiin have kept with his foot soldiers, and, gather- 
 ing them together, have made head against the enemy ; but 
 those around him entreated him to think only of his personal 
 safety. To remain, was to perish without striking a blow ; to 
 escape, Mas to preserve a life, that might be devoted to venge- 
 ance on the Moors. The master reluctantly yielded to their 
 advice. " O Lord of Hosts !' exclaimed he again, " from thy 
 wrath do I fly, not from these infidels : they are but instru- 
 ments in thy hands to chastise us for our sins !" So saying, 
 he sent the guides in advance, and, putting spurs to his horse, 
 dashed through a defile of the mountains, before the Moors 
 could intercept him. The moment the master put his horse 
 to speed, his troops scattered in all directions. Some endea- 
 deavoured to follow his traces, but were confounded among 
 the intricacies of the mountain. They fled hither and thither ; 
 many perishing among the precipices, others being slain by 
 the Moors, and others taken prisoners. 
 
 The gallant Marquis of Cadiz, guided by his tinisty adalid, 
 Luis Amar, had ascended a different part of the mountain. 
 He was followed by his friend, Don Alonzo de Aguilar, the 
 adelantado, and the Count of Cifuentes ; but, in the darkness 
 and confusion, the bands of these commanders became sepa- 
 rated from each other. When the marquis attained the 
 summit, he looked around for his companions in arms ; but 
 they were no longer following him, and there was no trumpet 
 to summon them. It was a consolation to the marquis, how- 
 ever, that his brothers, and several of his relations, with a 
 number of his retainers, were still with him. He called his 
 brothers by name, and their replies gave comfort to his heart. 
 
 His guide now led the way into another valley, where he 
 
FORAY OF THE SFANISH CAVALIERS. fii 
 
 would be loss exposed to danger. ^V^len he had reached the 
 bottom of it, the marquis paused, to collect his scattered fol- 
 lowers, and to f^ve time for his fellow commanders to rejoin 
 him. Here ho was suddenly assailed by the troops of El 
 Zagal, aided by the mountaineers from the cliffs. The Chris- 
 tians, exhausted and terrified, lost all presence of mind ; mof(t 
 of them fled, and were either slain or taken captive. The 
 marquis and his valiant brothers, with a few tried friends, 
 made a stout resistance. His horse was killed under him; 
 his brothers, Don Diego and Don Lope, with his two nepHoMi-*. 
 Don Lorenzo and Don Manuel, were, one > y ot;:», 8%v(pt from 
 his side ; either transfixed with darts and Iiuiccs \r^ fh^js^sllie'^ 
 of El Zagal, or crushed by stones from tnc h irif'uts. The 
 marquis was a veteran warrior, and had been in raany a hloody 
 battle, but never before had death fallen 8<j thick nnd close 
 around him. When he saw his remairuifij,!' brotL r, Don. 
 Beltram, struck out of his saddle byafVa^Ttirnt cl a roclr, u.cni 
 his horse nmning wildly about without his ridsr, be ga^e aery 
 of anguish, and stood bewildered and aj;iir'.st. A fe-r.- faithfisJ 
 followers surrounded him, and entreated him to fly \oj ulfiiife. 
 He would still have remained, to have shared the icHxiXif s o/ 
 his friend, Don Alonzo de Aguilar, and his other cowpaniong 
 in arms ; but the forces of El Zagal were between him imJl 
 them, and death was whistling by on c^crj' wind. Reluc- 
 tantly, therefore, he consented to fly. Another hoi-se x^fis 
 brought him : his faithM adalid guided him by oxic of the 
 steepest paths, which lasted for four leagues ; the euerny stUl 
 hanging on his traces, and thinning the scanty rank? of his 
 followers. At length the marquis reached the extremity of 
 the mountain defiles, and, with a haggard remnant of his men, 
 escaped by dint of hoof to Antequera. 
 
 The Count of Cifuentes, with a few of Lis rttainers, in at- 
 tempting to follow the Marquis of Cac-z, v./iidsirod into a 
 narrow pass, where they were complekiv suritundcd by the 
 band of El Zagal. Finding all alt-trpi at escape impossible, 
 and resistance vain, the worthy count surrendered himself 
 prisoner, as did also his brc*h i, Don Pedio de Silva, and the 
 few of his retainers wi o survived. 
 
 The dawn of da^/ found Don Alonzo de Aguilar, with a 
 handful of his adherents, still among the moimtains. They 
 had attempted to follow the Marquis of Cadiz, but had been 
 obliged to pause and defend themselves against the thickening 
 
 
 
 m 
 
"■p^- 
 
 56 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRAXADA. 
 
 forces of the enemy. Tliey at length traversed the mountain, 
 and reached the same valley where the marquis had made his 
 last disastrous stand. Wearied and perplexed, they sheltered 
 themselves in a natural grotto, under an overhanging rock, 
 which kept off the darts of the enemy ; while a bubbling 
 fountain gave them the means of slaking their raging thirst, 
 and reftvsliing their exhausted steeds. As day broke, the 
 scene (<f slaughter xnifolded its hornu-s. There lay the noble 
 brothers and nephews of the gallant marquis, transfixed with 
 darts, or gashed and bruised with unseemly wounds ; while 
 many otlier gallant cavaliers were stretched out dead and 
 dying around, some of them partly stripped and plundered by 
 the Sloors. I)e Aguilar was a pious knight, but his piety was 
 not luunble and resigned, like that of the worthy master of 
 Santiago. He imprecated holy curses upon the mfidels, for 
 having thus laid low the flower of Christian chivalry, and he 
 vowed in his heart bitter vengeance uj)on the surrounding 
 country. By degrees the little force of De Aguilar Avas aug- 
 mented by numbers of fugitives, who issued from caves and 
 chasms, where they had taken refuge in the night. A little 
 band of mounted knighis was gradually formed, and the Moors 
 having abandoned the heights to collect the spoils of the slain, 
 this gallant but forlorn squardon was enabled to retreat to 
 Antequera. 
 
 This disastrous affair lasted from Thursday evening, 
 throughout Friday, the twenty-first of March, the festival of 
 St. Benedict. It is still recorded in Spanish calendars as the 
 defeat of the mountains of Malaga ; and the place where the 
 greatest slaughter took place is pointed out to the present 
 day, and is called La ciiesta dc lamafanzo, or " the hill of the 
 massacre." The principal U'adevs who 8ur\'ived returned to 
 Antecpiera ; many of the knightia took refuge in Albania, and 
 others wandered alxnit the mountains for eight days, living 
 on roots and herbs, hiding themselves during the day, and 
 roaming forth at night. So enfeebled and disheartened were 
 they, that they otfrred no resistance if attacked. Thr -e or 
 four soldiers woidd surrender to a Moorish peasant, and even 
 the women of Malaga sallied forth and made prisoners. 
 Some were thrown into tlie dungeons of frontier towns; 
 others led captive to (Jranada: but by far the greater num- 
 ber were conducted to Mtdaga, the city they had threatened 
 to attack. Two hundred and fifty principiU cavaliers, ul- 
 
 t' 
 
TOKAY OF Tin: SPANISH CAVALIERS. 
 
 57 
 
 caydes, commanders, and hidaljjos, of fjcnorous blood, were 
 confined in the aleazaba or eitadel of Malaju;a, to await their 
 ransom; and five hundred and seventy of the common soldiery 
 were crowded in an enclosure or court-yard of the aleazaba, 
 to be sold as slaves.* 
 
 Great spoils were collected of splendid armour and weapons 
 taken from the slain, or thrown away by the cavaliers in 
 their flight : and many horses, magniticently ccmiparisoned 
 together with numerous standards ; all which were paradec 
 in triumph into the Moorish towns. 
 
 The merchants, also, who had come with tlie army, intend- 
 ing to traffic in the spoils of the Moors, were themselves 
 made objects of traffic. Several of them were driven like 
 cattle before the Moorish virau;os to the market of Malaga, 
 and, in spite of all their adroitness in trade, and their attempts 
 to buy themselves off at a cluap ransom, they were unable to 
 purchase their freedom >vith()ut sMch draughts \ipon their 
 money bags at home, as drained them to the yciy bottom. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The people of Antequera had scarcely recovered from the 
 tunnilt of excitement and admiration, caused by the departure 
 of the gallant band of cavaliers upon their foray, when they 
 beheld the scattered wrecks flying for refuge to their walls. 
 Day after day, and liour after hour, brought some wretched 
 fugitive in whose battered plight, and liaggard, wobegonc 
 demeanour, it was almost impossible to recognise the wairior, 
 whom they bad lately seen to issue so gaily and gloriously 
 from their gates. 
 
 The arrival of the Marquis of Cadiz, almost alone, covered 
 mth dust and blood, his armour shattered and defaced, his 
 countenance the picture of despair, filled every heart with 
 sorrow ; for he Mas greatly beloved by the j)eople. The 
 multitude asked, where was the band of brothers, that rallied 
 round him as he went forth to the field ; and m hen they 
 heard, that they had, one by one. Ix'cn slaughtered at his side, 
 they hushed their voices, or spoke to each other only in 
 whis|)er8 as he passed, gazing at him in silent sympathy. 
 No one attempted to console him in so great an affliction, nor 
 did the good marquis speak ever a word, but shutting him< 
 * Cura <!o lew Palacios. 
 
58 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBAKADA. 
 
 self up, brooded in lonely an;2;uish over his misfortune. It 
 was only the arrival of Don Alonzo de Aguilar that gave him 
 a gleam of consolation ; for, amidst the shafts of death that 
 had fallen so thickly among his family, he rejoiced that his 
 chosen friend and brother in arms had ecaped iminjured. 
 
 For several days everv eye was turned, in an agony of 
 suspense, towards the Moorish border, anxiously looking, in 
 every fugitive from the mountains, for the lineaments of some 
 friend or relation, whose fate was yet a mystery. At length 
 all doubt subsided into certainty ; the whole extent of this 
 great calamity was known, spreading grief and consternation 
 throughout the land, and laying desolate the pride and hopes 
 of palaces. It was a sorrow, that visited the marble hall and 
 silken pillow. Stately dames mourned over the loss of their 
 sons, the joy and glory of their age ; and many a fair cheek 
 was blanched with wo, that had lately mantled with secret 
 admiration. '■'■ All Andalusia ;" says an historian of the day, 
 " was overwhelmed by a great affliction ; there was no drying 
 of the eyes which wept in her.*" 
 
 Fear and trembling reigned for a while dong the frontier. 
 Their spear seemed broken; their buckler cleft in twain. 
 Every border town dreaded an attack, and the mother caught 
 her infant to her bosom, when the watch-dog howled in the 
 night, fancying it the war cry of the Moor. All for a time 
 appeared lost, and despondency even found its way to the 
 royal breast of Ferdinand and Isabella, amid the splendours 
 of their court. 
 
 Great, on the other hand, was the joy of the Moors, when 
 they saw whole legions of Christian warriors brought captive 
 into their towns, bv rude mountain pesantry. They thought 
 it the work of Allah in favour of the faithful. But when they 
 recognised, among the captives thtis dejected and broken 
 down, several of the proudest of Christian chivalry ; when 
 they saw several of the banners and devices of the noblest 
 hoases of Spain, which they had been accustomed to behold 
 in the foremost of the battle, now trailed ignominiously 
 through tlieir streets; when, in short, they witnessed the 
 arrival of the Count of Cifuentes, the royal standard-bearer of 
 Spain, with his gallant brother, Don Petro de Silva, brought 
 prisoners into the gates of Qrnnada, there were no bounds to 
 their cxuUction. Thoy thought, that the days of their ancient 
 
 * Cnra de los Palacios. 
 
 i 
 
EFFECTS OF THE DISASTERS. 
 
 59 
 
 It 
 
 him 
 that 
 t his 
 
 y of 
 f, in 
 some 
 
 ength 
 this 
 
 lation 
 
 glory were about to return, and that they were to renew their 
 career of triumph over the unbelievcn?. 
 
 The Christian historians of the time are sorely perplexed to 
 account for this misfortune; and why so many Christian 
 knights, fit^hting in the cause of the holy faith, should thus, 
 miraculously as it were, be given captive to a handful of 
 infidel boors ; for we arc assured, that all this rout and des- 
 truction was effected by five hundred foot and fifty horse, and 
 these mere mountaineers, without science or discipline.* 
 " It was intended," observes one historiographer, " us u lesson 
 to their confidence and vain glory; overrating their own 
 prowess, and thinking, that so chosen a band of chivalry had 
 but to appear in the land of the enemy, and conquer. It was 
 to teach them, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle 
 to the strong, but that God alone giveth the victory." 
 
 The worthy father Fray Antonio Agapida, however, asserts 
 it to be a punishment for the avarice of the Spanish warriors. 
 " They did not enter the kingdom of the infidels with the pure 
 spirit of Christian knights, zealous only for the glory of the 
 faith ; but rather as greedy men of trade, to enrich themselves 
 by vending the spoils of the infidols. Instead of preparing 
 themselves by confession and communion, and executing their 
 testaments, and making donations to churches and convents, 
 they thought only of arranging bargains and sales of their 
 anticipated booty. Instead of taking with them holy monks, 
 to aid them with their prayers, they were followed by a train 
 of worldlings, to keep alive their secular and sordid ideas, and 
 to turn what ought to be holy triumphs into scenes of brawling 
 traffic." Such is the opinion of the excellent Agapida, in 
 which he is joined by that most worthy and upright of 
 chroniclers, the curate of Los Palacios. Agapida comforts 
 himself, however, with the reflection, that this visitation was 
 meant in mercy, to try the Castilian heart, and to extract 
 from its present humiliation the elements of future success, 
 as gold is extracted from amidst the impurities of earth ; 
 and in this reflection he is sujjportfd by the venerable his- 
 torian, Pedro Abarca, of the society of Jesuits.f 
 
 ♦ Cura (Ic lo8 Piilacioe. 
 
 + Abarca, AualcB de Aragon, Rcy 30. cap. 2. sect. 7. 
 
 i 
 
60 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 TiiF, defeat of the Cliristian cavaliers among the moxmtalns 
 of Mahi^a, and the successful inintad of Muley Aben Hassan 
 into the lands of Medina Sidonia, had pi-oduced a favourable 
 effect on the fortunes of the old monarch. The inconstant 
 populace began to shout forth his name in the streets, and to 
 sneer at the inactivity of ids son, Boabdil el Chico. The latter, 
 though in the flower of his age, and distinguished for vigour 
 and dexterity in jousts and tournaments, had never yet fleshed 
 his weapon in the field of battle ; and it was murmured, that 
 he preferred the silken repose of the cool halls of the Alham- 
 bra, to the fatigue and danger of the foray, and the hard 
 encampments of the mountains. 
 
 The popularity of these rival kings depended upon their 
 success against the Christians ; and Uoabdil el Chico found it 
 necessary to strike some signal blow, to counterbalance the 
 late triumph of his father. He was further incited by the 
 fierce old Moor, his father-in-law, Ali Atar, alcayde of Loxa, 
 with whom the coals of wrath against the Christians still 
 burned amongst the ashes of age, and had lately been blown 
 into a flame by the attack made by Ferdinand on the city 
 tmdor his command. 
 
 Ali Atar informed Boabdil, that the late discomfiture of the 
 Christian knights had stri[)ped Andalusia of the prime of her 
 chivalry, and broken the spirit of the country. All the 
 frontier of Cordova and I-Ieija now lay open to inroad ; but 
 he specially pointed out the city of Lucena as an object of 
 attack ; being feebly garrisoned, and lying in a country rich 
 in pasturage, abounding in cattle and grain, in oil and wine. 
 Thi' fiery old Moor spoke from thorough information ; for he 
 had made many an incursicm into those parts, and his very 
 name was a terror throughout the countrv. It had become 
 a bye-word in the garrison of Loxa, to call Lucena the garden 
 of Ali Atar; for he was accustomed to forage its fertile ter- 
 ritories for all his supplies. 
 
 lioabdil el Chico listened to the persuasions of this veteran 
 of the borders. lie assembled a force of nine thousand foot 
 and seven hundred horse, most of them his own adherents, 
 but numy the partisans of his father : for both factions, how- 
 ever they might fight among themselves, were ready to unite 
 in any expedition '\gainst the Christians. Many of the most 
 
 
MARCH OF KING BOABDIL. 
 
 01 
 
 Intains 
 llassnn 
 
 urable 
 Jnstant 
 land to 
 I latter, 
 
 I'ijjjour 
 
 leshed 
 |d, that 
 
 .Iham- 
 hard 
 
 \ 
 
 illustrious ana valiant of the Moorish nobility assembled 
 around his standard, magnificently an-ayed, in sumptuous 
 armour and rich embroiderj-, as thouj^h they were goinj; to a 
 festival, or a tilt of reeds, rather than an enterprise of iron 
 war. Boabdil's mother, the sultana Ayxa la Horra, armed 
 him for the field, and j^avc him her benediction as she girded 
 his cimeter to his side. Ilis favourite wife Morayma wept, 
 as she thought of the evils that might befall him. " Why 
 dost thou weep, daughter of Ali Atar.*" said the high-minded 
 Ayxa ; " these tears become not the daughter of a warrior, 
 nor the wife of a king. Believe me, there lurks more danger 
 for a monarch within the strong walls of a palace, than within 
 the frail cm-tains of a tent. It is by perils in the field, that 
 thy husband must ])urchase security on his throne." 
 
 But Morayma still hung upon his neck with tears and sad 
 forbodings ; and when he departed from the Alhambra, she 
 betook herself to her mirador, which looks out over the vega ; 
 whence she watched the army, as it passed in shining order 
 along the road that leads to Loxa; and eveiy burst of 
 warlike melody that came sw^elling on the breeze was answered 
 by a gush of sorrow. 
 
 As the royal cavalcade issued from the palace, and descended 
 through the streets of Granada, the populace greeted their 
 youthful sovereign with shouts, and anticipated success that 
 should wither the laurels of his father. In passing through 
 the gate of Elvira, however, the king accidentally broke his 
 lance against the arch. At this, certain of his nobles turned 
 pale, and entreated of him not to proceed, for they regarded 
 it as an evil omen. Boabdil scoffed at their fears, for ho 
 considered them mere idle fancies: or rather, says Fray- 
 Antonio Agapida, he was an incredulous pagan, puffed up 
 with confidence and vain glory. lie refused to take another 
 spear, but drew forth his cimeter, and led the way (adds 
 Agapida) in an arrogant and haughty style, as though ho 
 woidd set both heaven and earth at defiance. Another evil 
 omen was sent, to dttcr him from liis enterprise. Arriving 
 nt the rambla or dry ravine of Beyro, which is scarcely a 
 Iwwshot from the city, a fox ran through the whole army, 
 and close by the person of the king, and, though a thousand 
 bolts were discharged at it, eseajied uninjured to the moun- 
 tains. The principal courtiers about Itoabdil now reiterated 
 their remonstrances against proceeding ; for they considered 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 
 II 
 
 these occurrences as mjrsterious portents of disasters to their 
 army. The king, however, was not to be dismayed, but con- 
 tinued to march forward.* 
 
 At Loxa the royal army was reinforced by old Ali Atar, 
 with the chosen horsemen of his garrison, and many of the 
 bravest warriors of the border towns. The people of Loxa 
 shouted with exultation, when they beheld Ali Atar armed at 
 all points, and once more mounted on his Barbary steed, 
 which had often borne him over the borders. The veteran 
 warrior, with nearly a century of years upon his head, had 
 all the fire and animation of a youth at the prospect of a 
 foray, and careered from rank to rank with the velocity of an 
 Arab of the desert. The populace watched the army as it 
 paraded over the bridge, and woimd into the passes of the 
 mountains; and still their eyes were fixed upon the pennon 
 of Ali Atar, as if it bore with it an assurance of victory. 
 
 The Moorish army entered the Christian frontier by forced 
 marches, hastily ravaging the country, driving off the flocks 
 and herds, and making captives of the inhabitants. They 
 pressed on fvu^ously, and made the latter part of their march 
 in the night, that they might elude observation, and come 
 upon Lucena by surprise. Boabdil was inexperienced in the 
 art of war ; but he had a veteran counsellor in his old father- 
 in-law : for Ali Atar knew every secret of the country ; and 
 as he prowled through it, his eye ranged over the land, uniting, 
 in its glare, the craft of the fox, with the sanguinary ferocity 
 of the wolf. He had flattered himself, that their march had 
 been so rapid, as to outstrip intelligence, and that Lucena 
 would be an easy capture ; when, suddenly, he beheld alarm 
 fires blazing upon the mountains. " We are discovered," 
 said he to Boabdil el Chico; "The country will be up in 
 arms. We have nothing left, but to strike boldly for Lucena; 
 it is but slightly garrisoned, and we may carry it by assault, 
 before it can receive assistance." The king approved of his 
 council, and they marched rapidly for the gate of Lucena. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Don Dieoo de Coudova, Count of Cabra, was in the 
 castle of Vacua, which, with the towTi of the same name, is 
 situated on a lofty Kunh.iint hill, on the frontier of the 
 * Marmol. Kcbcl. dc loa Moros, lib. i. c. 12. fol. 14. 
 
 
 fortl 
 
 best] 
 
 and 
 
 bcsij 
 
 seasi 
 
 hasti 
 
BALLY OF THE COUNT DE CABBA. 
 
 kingdom, of Cordova, and but a few leagues from Lucena. 
 The range of mountains from Ilorquera lie between them. 
 The castle of Vaena was strong, and well furnished with 
 arms ; and the Count had a numerous band of vassals and 
 retainers : for it behoved the noblemen of the frontiers in 
 those times to be well prepared, with man and horse, with 
 lance and buckler, to resist the sudden incursions of the 
 Moors. The Count of Cabra was a hardy and experienced 
 warrior ; shrewd in council, prompt in action, rapid and fear- 
 less in the field. He was one of the bravest cavaliers for an 
 inroad, and had been quickened and sharjiened in thought and 
 action by living on the borders. 
 
 On the night of the 20th of April, 1483, the Count was 
 about to retire to rest, when the watchman from the turret 
 brought him word, that there were alarm fires on the moun- 
 tains of Horquera, and that they were made on the signal 
 tower, overhanging the defile, through which the road passes 
 to Cabra and Lucena. 
 
 The count ascended the battlements, and beheld five lights 
 blazing on the tower ; a sign that there was a Moorish army 
 attacking some place on the frontier. The Coimt instantly 
 ordered the alarm-bells to be sounded, and despatched couriers 
 to rouse the commanders of the neighbouring towns. He 
 ordered all his retainers to prepare for action, and sent a 
 trumpet through the town, summoning the men to assemble 
 at the castle gate at daybreak, armed and equipped for the 
 field. 
 
 Throughout the remainder of the night, the castle re- 
 soimded with the din of preparation. Every house in the 
 town was in equal bustle ; for in these frontier towns every 
 house had its warrior, and the lance and buckler were ever 
 hanging against the wall, ready to be snatched down for 
 instant service. Nothing was heard but the noise of armourers, 
 the shoeing of steeds, and furbishing of weapons, and all 
 night long the alami fires kept blazing on the mountain. 
 
 When the morning dawned, the Count of Cabra sallied 
 forth, at the head of two hundred and fifty cavaliers, of the 
 best families of Vaena ; all well appointed, e-xercisod in iirms, 
 and experienced in the warfare of the borders. There wore, 
 besides, twelve hundred foot soldiers; all brave and well 
 seasoned men of the same town. The Count ordered them to 
 hasten forward, whoever could make most speed, taking the 
 
 i I 
 
64 
 
 CONQUEST OF GRAXADA. 
 
 (I 
 
 
 road to Cabra, which was three leagues distant. That they 
 might not loiter on the road, he allowed none of tnem to 
 break their fast, until they arrived at that place. The pro- 
 vident Count despatched couriers in advance ; and the little 
 army, on reaching Cabra, found tables spread with food and 
 refreshments at the gates of the town. There they were 
 joined by Don Alonzo de Cordova, senior of Zuheros. 
 
 Having made a hearty repast, they were on the point of 
 resuming their march, when the Count discovered, that, in 
 the hurry of his departure from home, he had forgotten to 
 bring the standard of Vaena, which, for upwards of eighty 
 years, had always been borne to battle by his family. It was 
 now noon, and there was not time to return. He took, 
 therefore, the standard of Cabra, the device of which is a 
 goat, and which had not been seen in the wars for the last 
 half century. When about to depart, a courier came gallop- 
 ing at full speed, bringing missives to the Count, from his 
 nephew, Don Diego Hernandez do Cordova, senior of Lucena, 
 and alcayde de los Donzeles, entreating him to hasten to his 
 aid, as his town was beset by the Moorish king, Boabdil el 
 Chico, with a powerful army, who were actually setting tire 
 to the gates. 
 
 The Count put his little army instantly in movement for 
 Lucena, which is only one league from Cabra. He was fired 
 with the idea of having the Moorish king in person to contend 
 with. By the time he reached Lucena, the Moors had 
 desisted from the attack, and were ravaging the surrounding 
 country. He entered the town with a few of his cavaliers, 
 and was received with joy by his nephew, whose whole force 
 consisted but of eighty horse and three himdied foot. Don 
 Diego Hernandez de Cordova was a yoimg man ; yet he was 
 a prudent, careful, and capable officer. Having learned, the 
 evening before, that the Moors had passed the frontiers, he 
 had gathered within his walls all the women and children 
 from the environs ; had armed the men, sent couriers in aU 
 directions for succour, and had lighted alarm-fires on the 
 mountains. 
 
 Boabdil had arrived with his army at daybreak, and had 
 sent in a message, threatening to put the garrison to the 
 sword, if the place were not instantly surrendered. The 
 messenger was a Moor of Granada, named Hamet, whom 
 Don Diego had formerly known. He contrived to amuse 
 
 i 
 
SALLY OF THE COUNT PE CABRA. 
 
 65 
 
 nd had 
 to the 
 The 
 whom 
 amuee 
 
 him with negociation, to gain time for succour to arrive, 'llic 
 fierce old Ali Atar, losing all patience, had made an assault 
 upon the town, and stormed like a fury at the gate ; but had 
 been repulsed. Anothc. and more serious attack was expected 
 in the course of the night. 
 
 When the Count de Cabra had heard this account of the 
 situation of affiiirs, he turned to his nephew, with his usual 
 alacrity of manner, and proposed that they she ild immediately 
 sally forth in quest of the enemy. The prudent Don Diego 
 remonstrated at the rashness of attacking so great a force 
 with a mere handful of men. " Nephew," said the count, 
 " I came from Vaena with a determination to fight this 
 Moorish king, and I will not be disappointed." 
 
 " At any rate," replied Don Diego, " let us wait but two 
 hours, and we shall have reinforcements, which have been 
 promised me from Ilambla, Santaella, Montilla, and other 
 places in the neighbourhood." " If we wait, these," said the 
 hardy count, " the Moors will be off, and all our trouble will 
 have been in vain. You may await them, if you please : I 
 am resolved on fighting." 
 
 The count paused not for a reply ; but, in his prompt and 
 rapid manner, sallied forth to his men. The young alcayde 
 de los Donzeles, through more prudent than his ardent uncle, 
 was equally brave. He determined to stand by him in his 
 rash enterprise ; and summoning his little force, marched 
 forth, to join the count, who was already on the alert. They 
 then proceeded together in quest of the enemy. 
 
 The Moorish army had ceased ravaging the country, and 
 were not to be seen, the neighbourhood being hilly, and 
 broken with deep ravines. The count despatched six scouts 
 on horseback, to reconnoitre, ordering them to return with all 
 speed when they should have discovered the enemy, and by 
 no means to engage in skirmishing with stragglers. The 
 scouts, ascending a high hill, beheld the Moorish army in a 
 valley behind it ; the cavalry ranged in five battalions, keep- 
 ing guard, while the foot soldiers were seated on the grass, 
 making a repast. They returned immediately with the intel- 
 ligence. 
 
 The count now ordered the troops to march in the direc- 
 tion of the enemy. He and his nephew ascended the hill, 
 and saw, that the five battalions of Moorish cavalry had been 
 formed into two ; one of about nine hundred lances, the other 
 
 ¥ 
 
 !! 
 
 11 
 
 P 
 
 jh 
 
 M' 
 
 
I 
 
 1 
 
 r 
 
 ir 
 
 'Wp 
 
 COXQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 of about six Imndred. The whole force seemed prepared to 
 march for the frontier. The foot soldiers were already in 
 motion, with many prisoners, and a great train of mules and 
 beasts of burden, laden with booty. At a distance was Boab- 
 dil el Cliico. They could not distinguish his person ; but 
 they knew him by his superb white charger, magnificently 
 caparisoned ; and by his being surrounded by a numerous 
 guard, sumptuously armed and attired. Old Ali Atar was 
 careering about the valley with his usual impatience, hurry- 
 ing the march of the loitering troops. 
 
 The eyes of the Count de Cabra glistened with eager joy, 
 as he beheld the royal j)rize within his reach. The immense 
 disparity of their forces never entered into his mind. " By 
 Santiago!' said he to his nephew, as th?y hastened down 
 the hill. " had we waited for more forces, the Moorish king 
 and iiis army would have escaped us!" 
 
 The count now harangued his men, to inspirit them to this 
 hazardous encounter. He told them not to be dismayed at 
 the number of the Moors ; for God often permitted the few to 
 contpier the many; and he had great confidence, that, through 
 the divine aid, they were that day to achieve a signal victory, 
 which should win then both riches and renown. He com- 
 manded, that no man should hurl his lance at the enemy, 
 but should keep it in his hands, and strike as many blows 
 with it as he could. He warned them, also, never to shout, 
 except when the Moors did ; for when both armies shouted 
 together, there was no perceiving which made the most 
 noise, and was the strongest. He desired his uncle. Lope de 
 Meiidoza, and Diego Cabrera, alcayde of Menica, to alight, 
 and enter on foot, in the battalion of infantry, to animate 
 them to the combat. He appointed, also, the alcayde of 
 Vaena, and Diego de Clavijo, a cavalier of his household, to 
 remain in the rear, and not to permit any one to lag behind, 
 either to despoil the dead, or for any other purpose. 
 
 Such were the orders given by this most adroit, active, and 
 intrepid cavalier to his little army ; supplying, by admirable 
 sagacity and subtle management, the want of a more numerous 
 force. His orders being given, and all arrangements made, 
 he threw aside his lance, drew his sword, and commanded his 
 standard to be advanced against the enemy. 
 
 the 
 an 
 
 It! 
 
 cei 
 no 
 
was 
 
 
 TUE battlp: of luceka. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 67 
 
 The Moorish kinp; had descried the Spanish forces at a 
 distance, althoufjfh a sHght foj? prevented his secin*; them dis- 
 tinctly, and ascertainint? their numbers. His old father-in- 
 law, Ali Atur. was by his side, who, htnw^ a veteran marauder, 
 was well accjuainted with all tlie standards and armorial bear- 
 ings of the frontiers. When the king beheld the ancient and 
 long disused banner of Cabra emerging from the mist, he 
 turned to Ali Atar, and demanded whose ensign it was. The 
 old borderer was for once at a loss ; ibr the banner had not 
 been disj)laycd in battle in his time. 
 
 '* Sire, ■ replied he, after a pause, " I have been considering 
 that standard, but do not know it. It appears to be a dog, 
 which is a device borne by the towns of liaeza and Ubeda. 
 If it be so, all Andalusia is in movement against you; for it 
 is not probable, that any single commander or community 
 would venture to attack you. I would advise you, therefore, 
 to retire." 
 
 'i'he Count of Cabra, in winding down the hill towards the 
 Moors, found himself on a much lower station than the enemy: 
 he therefore ordered in all haste, that his standard should be 
 taken back, so as to gain the vantage ground. The Mooi's, 
 mistaking this for a retreat, rushed impetuously towards the 
 Christians. The latter, having gained the height proposed, 
 charged down upon them at the same moment, with the battle- 
 cry of " Santiago!" and, derding the first blows, laid many of 
 the Moorish cavaliers in the dust. 
 
 The Moors, thus checked in their tumultuous assault, were 
 thrown into confusion, and began to give way, the Christians 
 following hard upon them. Boabdil el Chico endeavoured to 
 rally them. '"Hold! hold! for shame!" cried he: "let us 
 not fly, at least until we know our enemy!' The Moorish 
 chivalry were stung by this reproof, and turned to make front, 
 with the valour of men, who feel that they are fighting under 
 their monarch s eye. 
 
 At this moment, Lorenzo de Pones, alcayde of Luque, 
 arrived with fifty horse and one hundred foot, sounding an 
 Italian trumpet from among a copse of oak trees, which con- 
 cealed his force. The quick ear of old Ali Atar caught the 
 note. " That is an Italian trumpet," said he to the king ; 
 **thc whole world seems in arms against your majesty!" 
 
 F 2 
 
i 
 
 68 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF ORANAOA. 
 
 The trumpet of Lorenzo de Porres was answered by that of 
 the Count de Oabra in another direction : and it seemed to 
 the Moors as if they wore between two armies. Don Lorenzo, 
 sallyini; from among the oaks, now charged ujion the enemy. 
 The latter did not wait to ascertain the force of this new foe. 
 The confusion, the variety of alarms, the attacks nom opposite 
 quarters, the obscurity of the fog, all conspired to deceive 
 them as to the number of their adversaries. Broken .md dis- 
 mayed, they retreated fighting ; and nothing but the presence 
 and remonstrances of the king prevented their retreat from 
 becoming a headlong flight. 
 
 This skirmishing retreat lasted for about three leagues. 
 Many were the acts of individual prowess between Christian 
 and Moorish knights ; and the way was strewed by the flower 
 of the king's guards, and of his royal household. At length 
 they came to the rivulet of Mingonzalez, the verdant banks of 
 whicrh were covered with willows and tamarisks. It was 
 swollen by recent rain, and was now a deep and turbid torrent. 
 
 Here the king made a courageous stand, with a small body 
 of cavalry, while his baggage crossed the stream. None but 
 the choicest and most loyal of his guards stood by their 
 monarch in this hour of extremity. The foot soldiers took to 
 flight the moment they passed the ford ; many of the horsemen, 
 partaking of the general panic, gave reins to their steeds, and 
 scoured for the frontier. The little host of devoted cavaliers 
 now serried their forces in front of their monarch, to protect 
 •his retreat. They fought hand to hand with the Christian 
 warriors; disdaining to yield, or to ask for quarter. The 
 •ground was covered with the dead and dying. The king, 
 having retreated along the river banks, and gained some dis- 
 tance from the scene of combat, looked back, and saw the 
 •loyal band at length give way. They crossed the ford, fol- 
 lowed ])ell mell by the enemy, and several of them were 
 struck down into the stream. 
 
 The king now dismounted from his white charger, whose 
 colour and rich caparison made him too conspicuous, and 
 endeavoured to conceal himself among the thickets which 
 fringed the river. A soldier of Lucena, named Martin Hur- 
 tado, discovered him, and attacked him with a pike. The 
 Iting defended himself with cimcter and target, until another 
 <3oldier assailed him, and he saw a third approaching. Per- 
 c Diving that further resistance would be vain, he drew back, 
 
 III 
 
I 
 
 y 
 
 THE BATTLE OF LTJCENA. ' f|f 
 
 and called upon them to desist, offering them n noble ransom . 
 One of the soldiers rushed forward to seize him ; but the king 
 struck him to the earth with a blow of his eimcter, 
 
 Don Diego Fernandez de Cordova coming up at this mo- 
 ment, the men said to him, " Senor, here is a Moor that we 
 have taken, who seems to be a man of rank, and offers a large 
 ransom." 
 
 "Slaves!" exclaimed King Roabtliil, "you have not taken 
 me. I surrender to this cavalier." 
 
 Don Diego received him with knightly courtesy. He per- 
 ceived him to be a person of high rank ; but the king con- 
 cealed his quality, and gave himself out as the son of Abeu' 
 Aleyzer, a nobleman of the royal household.* Don Diego 
 gave him in charge of five soldiers, to conduct him to thcf 
 castle of Luccna ; then putting spurs to his horse, he has- 
 tened to rejoin the Count de Cabra, who was in hot pursuit of 
 the enemy. He overtook him at a stream called lliancal, 
 and they continued to press on the skirts of the flying army 
 during the remainder of the day. The pursuit was almost as 
 hazardous as the battle ; for had the enemy at any time reco- 
 vered from their panic, they might, by a sudden reaction, have 
 overwhelmed the small force of their pursuers. To guard 
 against this peril, the wary count kept his battalion always in 
 close order, and had a body of a hundred chosen lances in the 
 advance. The Moors kept up a Parthian retreat. Several 
 times they turned to make battle ; but seeing this solid body 
 of steeled warriors pressing upon them, they again took to* 
 flight. 
 
 The main retreat of the army was along the valley watered 
 by the Xenil, and opening through the mountains of Algaringo 
 to the city of Loxa. The alarm fires of the preceding night 
 had roused the country. Every man snatched sword and 
 buckler from the wall ; and the tovims and villages ])oured 
 forth their warriors, to harass the retreating foe. Ali At'ir 
 kept the main force of the army together, and turned fiercely 
 from time to time upon his pursuers. He was like a wolf 
 hunted through the country he had often made desolate by 
 his maraudings. 
 
 The alarm of this invasion had reached the city of Antc- 
 quera, where were several of the cavaliers who had escaped 
 from the carnage in the mountains of Malaga. Their proud 
 ♦ Garibay, lib. xl. cap. 31. 
 
70 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBAXADA. 
 
 minds were festerinfj with their late dis^ace, and tlicir only- 
 prayer was for ventfeaiice on the infidels. No sooner did 
 they hear of the Moors bein^; over the border, than they were 
 armed and mounted for notion. Don Alonzo de A^;uil!ir led 
 them forth : a small body, of but forty horsemen ; but all 
 cavaliers of prowess, and thirstin<; for revenue. They eame 
 upon the foe on the banks of thr Xeiiil, where it winds thr()U|L;;h 
 the val'vys of Cordova. The river, swelled by the late rains, 
 was deep and turbulent, and only fordal)le at eertain places. 
 The main body of the army was gathered in eonfusion on the 
 banks, endeavouring to ford the stream, protected by the 
 cavalry of AH Atjir. 
 
 No s oner did the little band of Alonzo de Afjuilar come in. 
 eight of the Moors, than fury Hashed from their eyes. " Re- 
 member the mountains of Malaj^a !" they cried to each other, 
 as they rushed to combat. Tlu>ir charge was desperate, but 
 was gallantly resisted. A scrambling and bloody fight ensued, 
 hand to hand, and sword to swo)d, sometimes on land, some- 
 times in the water ; many were lanced on the banks : others, 
 throwing themselves into the river, sunk with the weight of 
 their armimr, and were drowned. Some, grappling together, 
 fell from their horses, but continued their struggle in the 
 waves, and helm and turban rolled together down the stream. 
 The Moors were by far the superior in number, and among 
 them were many warriors of rank ; but ihey were disheart- 
 ened by defci t, while the Christians were excited even to 
 desperation. 
 
 Ali Atar alone preserved all his fire and energy amid his 
 reverses. He had been eniaged at the defeat of the army, 
 the loss of the king, aiul the ignominious flight he had lurn 
 obliged to nuike, thrcmgh a etmntry which had so often been 
 the scene of his exploits : but to be thus inipeded in his flight, 
 and liaras.sed and insidtnl by a m< re handful of warriors, 
 roused the violent ]>assions of the old Moor to ])erfect Irenzy. 
 
 He had marked J)on Alonzo de Aguihir dealing his blows, 
 says Agnpida. Mith the ])ious vehtnu-nce of a righteous 
 knight, who knows that in every woinid inflicted upon the 
 infidels he is doing (iod service. Ali Atar sjnuTed his steed 
 along the bank of the river, to come upon Don Alonzo bysur- 
 
 fjrise. The Imck of that warrior was towards him ; and. col- 
 ecting nil his force, the M«)or hurled his lance, to transfix 
 him on the spot. The lunce wus not thrown with the usual 
 
THE BATTLE OF LUCENA. 
 
 n 
 
 his 
 
 i 
 
 V' 
 
 accuracy of AH Atar. It tore nwny a part of the cuirass of 
 Don Alon/o, but failed to iiiHict a wound. The Moor rushed 
 upon Don Aion/o with his ciniet»'r ; but the latter was on the 
 alert, and parried hih blow. They foufjht despemtely upon 
 the hoic?ers of the river, alternately ])ressin}ij each other into 
 the strefiHi, and fij^hting their way ajjain up the hank. Ali 
 Atar v/aa repeatedly wounded ; nnd Don Alonzo, haviuf; pity 
 on hj.s age. would have spartul his life. He called upon liim 
 to surrender. "Never!' cried Ali Atar, "to a Christian 
 dog!" The words were scarce out of his moutli, when the 
 Bword of Don Alonzo clove his turbaned head, and sank deep 
 into the brain. He fell dead witliout a groan : his body 
 rolled into the Xeiiil; nor was it evi-r found and recognised.* 
 Thus fell Ali Atar, who had long been the terror of Anda- 
 lusia. As he had hated and warred upon the Christians all 
 bis life, so he died in the very art of bitter hostility. 
 
 The fall of Ali Atar put an end to the transient stand of 
 the cavalry. Horse and foot mingled together in the <lespe- 
 rate struggle across the Xenil, and many were trampled down, 
 and perished beneath the waves. Don Alonzo and his band 
 continued to harass tliem. until tliey crossed the frontier ; 
 and every blow struck home to the Moors seemed to lighten 
 the loMd of humiliation and sorrow, which had weighed heavy 
 on their hearts. 
 
 In this disastrous rout, the Moors lost upwards of five 
 thousand killed aiui made prisoners, many of whom were of 
 the most noble lineages of Granada. Numbers Hed to rocks 
 and mountains, where they were subsetjuently taken. This 
 battle was called by some tiie battle ot'Lucena : bv others, the 
 battle of the Moorish king, because of the capture of Hoabdil. 
 Twenty-two banners fell int(» the hands of the Christians, and 
 were carried to Vacua, and hung \ip in the church, where, 
 says an historian of after times, tliey renuiin to this day. 
 Once a year, on the day of St. (ieorge. they are borne about 
 in proc<\ssioii by the inhabitants, who at the same time give 
 thanks to God, for this signal victory granted to their fore- 
 fathers. 
 
 (jrreat was the triumph of tlie Count de Cabra, when, on. 
 returning from the jjiusuit of the enemy, lu> found, tliat tho 
 Moorish king had lallen into his hands. When the unfortu- 
 nate Buubdil wan brought ix fore hitn. however, and hu liehcld 
 
 * Cura dc los PalanoB. 
 
 ll 
 
 
 ifl 
 
72 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBANADA. 
 
 him a dejected captive, whom, but shortly before, he had seen 
 in royal splendour, surrounded by his army, the generous 
 heart of the count >va8 touched by sympathy. He said every 
 thing that became a courteous and Christian knight, to com- 
 fort him; observing, that the same mutability of things, 
 which had suddenly destroyed his recent prosperity, might 
 cause his present misfortunes as rapidly to pass away ; since, 
 in this world, nothing is stable, and even sorrow has its 
 allotted term. 
 
 Thus consoling; him by gentle and soothing words, and 
 observing towards him the honour and reverence that his 
 dignity and his misfortunes inspired, he conducted him a 
 prisoner to his strong castle of Vaena. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The sentinels looked out from the watchtowers of Loxa, 
 along the valley of tlie Xenil. which passes through the moun- 
 t lins of Algaringo. Tliey looked to behold the king returuiiig 
 in triumph, at the head of his shining host, laden with the 
 spoil of the unbeliever. They looked, to behold the standard 
 of their warlike idol, the fierce Ali Atar, bom by the chivalry 
 of Loxa, ever foremost in the wars of the border. 
 
 In the evening of the 2ist of April, they descried a single 
 horseman, urging his faltering steed along the banks of the 
 river. As he drew near, they perceived by the flash of arms, 
 that he was a warrior; and, on nearer aj)i)roaeh, by the rich- 
 ness of his armour, and the cajjarison of his steed, they knew 
 liim to be a »varrior of rank. 
 
 lie reached Loxa faint and aghast; his Arabian courser 
 covend with foam and dust and blood, panting and stngger- 
 ing with fatigue, and gashed with wounds. Having I rought 
 his master in safety, he sunk down and died, before the gate 
 of the city. Hie soldiers at the gate gathered round the 
 cavalier, as he stood, mute and melancholy, by his expiring 
 steed. They knew him to be the gallant Cidi Caleb, nephew 
 of the chief alliuiui of the albayeen of (iranada. AVhen the 
 ])eople of Loxa i)eheld this noble cavalier thus alone, hag- 
 gard and dejected, their hearts were filled with fearful fore- 
 bodings. 
 
 •' Cavalier," said they, " how fares it with the king and 
 army? * He east his hand mournfully towards the land of 
 
 I 
 
LAHENTATIONS OF THE UOUBS. 
 
 73 
 
 li 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 the Chiistians. "There they lie!" exclaimed he: " the hea- 
 vens have fallen upon them! all are lost! all dead*!" 
 
 Upon this there was a great cry of consternation amon^ 
 the people, and loud wailinj^s of women ; for the flower of the 
 youth of Loxa were with the army. An old Moorish soldier, 
 scarred in many a border battle, stood leaning!; on his lance by 
 the gateway. "Where is Ali Atar''" demanded he eagerly. 
 " If he still live, the army cannot be lost!"' 
 
 " I saw his turban cloven by the Cliristiau sword," replied 
 Cidi Caleb. " iiis body is Hoatini? in the Xenil." 
 
 When the soldier heard these words, he smote his breast. 
 and threw dust upon his head ; for he was an old lollower of 
 Ali Atar. 
 
 The noble Cidi Caleb gave himself no r(>pose ; but, mount- 
 ing another steed, hastened to carry the disastrous tidings to 
 Granada. As he passed through the villages and hamlets, he 
 spread sorrow around ; for their chosen men had followed the 
 king to the wars. 
 
 When he entered the gates of Granada, and announced the 
 loss of the king and army, a voice of horror went throughout 
 the city. Every one thought but of his own share in the 
 general calamity, and crowded round the bearer of ill tidings. 
 One asked after a father, another after a brother, some after a 
 lover, and many a mother alter her son. His replies were 
 still of wounds' and death. To one he replied, " I saw thy 
 father pieced with a lance, as he defended the person of the 
 king." To another, " Thy brother fell woxmded under the 
 hoofs of the horses ; but there was no time to aid him, for the 
 Christian Cavalry were upon us. ' To a third, " I saw the 
 horse of thy lover covered with blood, and galloping without 
 his rider." To a fourth, " Thy son fought by my side on the 
 banks of the Xenil: we were surrouncled by the enemy, and 
 di'iven into the stream. I heard him call aloud upon Allah 
 in the midst of the watcra: when I reached the other bank^ 
 he was no longer by my side! ' 
 
 The noble Cidi Caleb passed on, leaving Granada in lamen- 
 tation. He urged his steed up the steep avenue of trees and 
 fou.itains, that leads to the Alhamb-a, nor stopped until he 
 arrived before the gate of justice. Ayxa, the mother of 
 Uoabdil, and Morayma, his beloved and tender wife, liud daily 
 watched, from the tower of the Gomeres, to behold his trium- 
 
 * Cura do lot Talaciog. 
 
 m 
 
 
 i 
 
VI THE CONQUEST OF ORAr.ADX. 
 
 phant return. Who shall describe their affliction, when they 
 heard the tidings of Cidi Caleb? The sultana Ayxa spake 
 not much, but sate as one entranced in wo. Every now ani 
 then a deep sigh burst forth: but she raised her eyes to Hea- 
 ven. "It is the will of Allah!" said she; and with these 
 words she endeavoured to repress the agonies of a mother's 
 sorrow. The tender Morayma threw herself on the earth, 
 and gave way t(> the full turbulence of her feelings, bewailing 
 her husband and her father. The high-minded Ayxa rebuked 
 the violence of her grief. " Moderate these trauspoits. my 
 daughter," said she; "remember, magnanimity should be the 
 attribute of princes: it bi comes not them to give way to cla- 
 morous sorrow, like common and vulgar nunds." But Mo- 
 rayma could only deplore her loss with the anguish of a 
 tender woman. She shut herself up in her mirador, and 
 gazed all day with streaming eyes upon the vega. Every 
 object before her recalled the causes of her affliction. The 
 river Xenil, which ran shining amidst the groves and gardens, 
 was the same on the banks of Mhich had perished her father, 
 Ali Atar : before her lay the road to Loxa, by which Boabdil 
 had departed in martial state, surrounded by the chivalry of 
 Granada. Ever and anon she woidd burst into an agony of 
 grief. "Alas, my father!' she would exclaim, "the river 
 runs smiling before me. tliat covers thy mangled remains! 
 who will gather them to an honoured tomb, in the land of the 
 unbeliever? And thou, oh, lioabdil! light of my eyes ! joy 
 of my heart! life of my life! Wo the day, and wo the hour 
 that 1 saw thee depart from these walls ! The road by which 
 thou hast de]*arted is solitary: never will it be gladdened by 
 thy return! The moimtain thou hast traversed lies like a 
 cloud in the distance, and all beyond it is darkness!" 
 
 The royal minstrels wcie simimoned. to assuage the sor- 
 rows of the queen: they attuned their instruments to cheerful 
 strains: but, in a little while, the anuuish of their hearts pre- 
 vailed, and turiu'd tiicir songs to lanu'ntations. 
 
 " lleautiful (iranada!' they exclaimed, "how is thy glory 
 faded! The vivarrambla no longer echoes to tlie tramp of 
 steed, and sound of tiuniprt: no longer is it crowded with thy 
 youthful iu)l)les, eager to <lis])lay their ])rowess in the tourney 
 and the festive tilt of reeds. Alas! the Hower of thy chi- 
 yalry lies low in a foreign larul I The soft note of the lute is 
 no longer heard in thy mournful streets, the lively castiinet 
 
 surrei 
 The 
 fully 
 " the 
 the U 
 the! 
 and 
 day li 
 has 
 
 I 
 
LA.li£NTATIONS OF THE MOOBS. 
 
 75 
 
 hey 
 )akc 
 
 
 is silent upon thy hills, and the graceful dance of the zambra 
 is no more seen beneath thy bowers, liehold, the Alhantbra 
 is forlorn and desolate! In vain do the orange and myrtle 
 breatlie their perfumes into its silken chambers; in vain does 
 the nightingale sing within its groves; in vain are its marble 
 halls refreshed by the sound of fountains, and the gush of 
 limpid rills! Alas! the countenance of the king no longer 
 shines within those halls; tlie light of the Alhambra is set 
 for ever!' 
 
 Thus all Granada, say the Arabian chroniclers, gave itstlf 
 up to lamentations; there was nothing but the voice of wail- 
 ing from the palace to the cottage. All joined to deplore 
 their youthful monaich, cut down in the fresliness and pro- 
 mise of his youth. Many feared that the prediction of the 
 astrologer was about to be fulfilled, and that the downfal of 
 the kingdom would follow the death of Boabdil ; while all de- 
 clared, that, had lie survived, he was the very sovereign cal- 
 culated to restore the realm to its ancient prosperity and glory. 
 
 ui 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 An unfortunate d.ath atones with the world for a multitude 
 of errors. While the populace thought their youthfid mo- 
 narch had peiished in the field, nothing could exceed their 
 grief for his loss, and their adoration of his memory : when, 
 however, they learned that he was still alive, and had sur- 
 rendered himself captive to the Christians, their feelings 
 underwent an instant change. They decried his talents as a 
 a commander, his courage as a soldier. They railed at his 
 expedition, as rash and ill- conducted; and they reviled him 
 for not having tlared to die on the field of battle, rather than 
 surrender to the enemy. 
 
 The alfaquis, as usual, mingled witli the populace, and art- 
 fully guidec' their disccmtents. " IJchold," exclaimed they, 
 ** the ])redict!on is accomplished, which was pronounced at 
 the birth of Boabdil! He has been seated on the thione, and 
 the kingdom has suifcred downfal and disgrace by his defeat 
 and captivity. Coiv.fort yourselves, oh Moslems ! Th(> evil 
 day has passed by : the fates arc satisfied, tlie secptre. which 
 has been br(»ken in the feeble liand of lioalKlil, is destined to 
 resume its fonner pov- 1 and swuy, in the vigorous grasp of 
 Aben llussou." 
 
 1; 
 
 
76 
 
 THE COXQUEST OF GBANADA. 
 
 The people were struck with the wisdom of these words. 
 They rejoiced, that the baleful prediction, »v'hich had so long 
 hung over them, was at an end ; and declared, that none but 
 Muley Aben Hassan had the valour and capacity necessary 
 for the protection of the kingdom in this time of trouble. 
 
 The longer the captivity of lioabdil continued, the greater 
 grew the popularity of his father. One city after another re- 
 newed allegiance to him : for power attracts power, and 
 fortune creates fortune. At length he was enabled to return 
 to Granada, and establish himself once more in the Alhambra. 
 At his approach, his repudiated spouse, the sultana Ayxa, 
 gathered together the lamily and treasures of her captive 
 son, and retired with a handful of the nobles into the albay- 
 een, the rival quarter of the city, the inhabitants of which 
 still retained feelings of loyalty to Boabdil. Here she forti- 
 fied herself, and held the semblance of a court, in the name 
 of licr son. The fierce Muley Aben Hassan would have 
 willingly carried fire and sword into this factious quarter of 
 the capital ; but he dared not confide in his new and uncer- 
 tain 'popularity. Many of the nobles detested him for bis 
 j)ast cruelty ; and a large portion of the soldiery, beside many 
 of the people of his own party, respected the virtues of Ayxa 
 la llorra, and pitied the misfortunes of Boabdil. Granada, 
 therefore, presented the singular sj)ectacle of two sove- 
 reignties within the same city. The old king fortified him- 
 self in the lofty towers of the Alhambra, as much against his 
 own subjects as against the Christians : while Ayxa, with the zeal 
 of a mother's affection, which waxes warmer and warmer towards 
 her ofl'spring when in adversity, still maintained the standard 
 of Boabdil on the rival fortress of the alcazaba ; and kept his 
 powerful faction alive within the walls of the "Ibaycin. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The unfortunate Boabdil remained a prisoner, closely 
 guarded in the castle of Vaena. From the towers of his 
 prison he beheld the town below filled with armed men ; and the 
 lofty hill on M'hich it was built, girdled by massive walls and 
 ramparts, on which a vigilant watch was maintained, night and 
 day. The mountains around were studed with watch-towers, 
 overlooking the lonely roads which led to Granada ; so that a 
 turbau could not stir over the border without the alarm being 
 
 :. 
 
 queen 
 must 
 done 
 In 
 tion o 
 conso 
 Boab( 
 lie in 
 the 
 tions, 
 his m 
 confc 
 
ards. 
 
 long 
 
 but 
 
 jsary 
 
 r 
 
 n 
 
 CAPTIVITY OP BOABDIL EL CHICO. 
 
 n 
 
 given, and the whole country put on the alert. Boabdil saw, 
 that there was no hope of escape from such a fortress, and that 
 any attempt to rescue him would be equally in vain. His heart 
 ■was filled with anxiety, as he thought on the confusion and ruin 
 which his captivity must cause in his affiiirs ; while sorrows of a 
 softer kind overcame his fortitude, as he thought on the 
 evils it might bring upon his family. 
 
 The Count de Cabra, though he maintained the most vigi- 
 lant guard over his royal prisoner, yet treated him with 
 profound deference. He had appointed the noblest apart- 
 ments in the castle for his abode, and sought in every May to 
 cheer him during his captivity. A few days only had 
 passed away, when missives arrived froiu the f 'dstilian sove- 
 reigns. P'erdinand had been transported with joy at h( iiring 
 of the capture of the Moorish monarch ; seeing the deep and 
 politic uses that mi<i;ht be made of such an event : but the 
 magnanimous spirit of Isabella was filled with compassion for 
 the unfortunate captive. Their messages to Boabdil were full 
 of sympathy and consolation ; breathing that high and gentle 
 courtesy, which dwells in noble minds. 
 
 This magnanimity in his foe cheered the dejected spirit of 
 the captive monarch. " Tell my sovereigns, the king and the 
 queen," said he to the messenger, " that I can not be im- 
 happy, being in the power of such high and mighty princes ; 
 especially since they partake so largely of that grace and 
 goodness, which Allah bestows upon the monarchs whom he 
 greatly loves. Tell them, further, that I had l<mg thought 
 of submitting myself to their sway, to receive the kingdom 
 of Granada from their hands, in the same manner that my 
 ancestor received it from King John H., father of the gracious 
 queen. My greatest sorrow, in this my ciiptivity, is. that I 
 must appear to do that from force, which 1 would fain have 
 done from inclination."' 
 
 In the mean time, Muley Aben Hassan, finding the fac- 
 tion of his son still formidable in Ornnada, was anxious to 
 consolidate his power, by gaining possession of the p rson of 
 Boabdil. For this purpose, he sent an embassy to tlie Catho- 
 lic inonarchs, otfering large terms for the ransom, or r.uncr 
 the purchase, of his son ; proposing, among other condi- 
 tions, to release the Count of Cifuentes, and nine other of 
 his most distinguished captives, and to enter into a treaty of 
 confederacy with the sovereigns. Neither did the implacable 
 
 m 
 
 ill 
 
 
 H* 
 
78 
 
 THE CONQITEST OF ORAVADA. 
 
 ( I 
 
 father make any scruple of testifying his indifference, whether 
 his son were delivered up alive or dead, so that his person 
 were placed assuredly within his power. 
 
 The humane heart of Isabella revolted at the idea of giving 
 up the unfortunate pi'ince into tlie hands of his most unnatuiul 
 and inveterate enemy. A disdainful refusal Mas therefore 
 returned to the old monnrch, whose message had been couched 
 in a vaunting spirit. lie was informed, that the Castilian 
 sovereigns would listen to no proposals of peace from Muley 
 Aben Hassan, until he should lay down his arms, and offer 
 them in all humility. Overtures in a different spirit were 
 made by the mother of lioabdil, the sultana Ayxa la Horra, 
 with the concurrence of the party which still remained faith- 
 ful to liim. It was thereby proposed, that Mahomet Abdalla, 
 otherwise called Boabdil, should hold his crown as vassal to 
 the Castilian sovereigns ; paying an annual tribute, and re- 
 leasing seventy Christian captives annually for five years : 
 that he sliould moreover pay a large sum upon the spot for 
 his ransom, and at the same time give freedom to four bun- 
 dled Christians, to be chosen by the king : that he should 
 also engage to be always ready to render military aid ; and 
 should come to the Cortes, or assemblage of nobles and dis- 
 tinguished vassals of the crown, whenever summoned. His 
 only son, and the sons of twelve distinguished Moorish 
 houses, were to be deli% ered as hostages. 
 
 King Ferdinand was at Cordova when he received this 
 proposition ; Queen Isabella was absent at the time. He was 
 anxious to consult her in so momentous an affair ; or rather, 
 he was fearful of proceeding too precipitately, and not draw- 
 ing from this fortunate event all the advantage of which it 
 was susceptible. Without returning any reply, therefore, to 
 the mission, he sent missives to the castle of Vaena, where 
 IJoabdil remained in courteous durance of the brave Count de 
 Cabra. ordering that the captive monarch should be brought 
 to Cordova. 
 
 The Count dc Cabra set out wit ' nis illustrious prisoner ; 
 but when he arrived at Cordova, King Ferdinand declined 
 seeing the Moorish monarch. 
 
 He was still undetermined Mhat course to pursue ; whether 
 to retain him prisoner, set him at liberty on ransoon, or treat 
 him with politic magnanimity ; and each course would require 
 a different kind of reception. Until this point should be 
 
 revere 
 dctcri 
 Do 
 was 
 and zl 
 holy 
 
til 
 
 CAPTIVITY OP BOA.BDIL EL CHICO. 
 
 79 
 
 [ther 
 trson 
 
 resolved, therefore, he p;ave him in charge to Martin de Alarcon, 
 alcayde of tlie ancient fortiess of Porcuna, with orders to 
 guard him strictly, but to treat him with the distinction and 
 deference due to a prince. These commands were strictly 
 obeyed, and, with the exception of being restrained in his 
 liberty, the monarch was as nobly entertained as he could 
 have been in his royal palace at Granada. 
 
 In the meantime, Ferdinand availed himself of this critical 
 moment, while Granada was distracted with factions and dis- 
 sensions, and before he had concluded any treaty with Boabdil, 
 to make a puissant and ostentatious inroad into the very heart 
 of the kingdom, at the head of his most illustrious nobles. He 
 sacked and destroyed several towms and castles, and extended 
 his ravages to the very gates of Granada. Old Muley Al)en 
 Hassan did not venture to oppose him. His city was filled 
 with troops ; but he was uncertain of their affection. He 
 dreaded, that, should he sally forth, the gates of Granada 
 might be closed against him by the foctlon of the albaycin. 
 
 " The old Moor stood on the lofty tower of the Alhambra," 
 says Antonio Agapida, "grinding his teeth, and foaming like a 
 tiger shut up in his cage, as he beheld the glittering battalions 
 of the Christians wheeling about the vega, and the standard 
 of the cross shining forth from amidst the smoke of infidel 
 villages and hamlets. The most catholic king," continues 
 Agapida, " would gladly have per8e\ercd in this righteous 
 ravage, but his munitions began to fail. Satisfied, therefore, 
 with having laid waste the country of the enemy, and insulted 
 old Muley Aben Hassan in his vei-y capital, he returned to 
 Cordova covered with laurels, and his army loaded with 
 spoils, and now bethought himself of coming to an immediate 
 decision in regard to his royal prisoner." 
 
 ; i»ft 
 
 r ig 
 
 1- 
 
 'n 
 
 ii 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A STATELY conversation was held by King Ferdinand, in 
 the ancient city of Cordova, composed of several of the most 
 reverend prelates and renowned cavaliers of the kingdom, to 
 determine uy)on the fate of the unfortunate Boabdil. 
 
 Don Alonzo de Cardenas, the worthy master of Santiago, 
 ^as one of the first who gave his counsel. He was a pious 
 and zealous knight, rigid in his devotion to the faith ; and his 
 holy zeal had been inflamed to peculiar vehemence since his 
 
 ■'5 31 
 
80 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBANADA. 
 
 ( 
 I 
 
 disastrous crusade among the mountains of Malaga. He 
 inveighed with ardour against any compromise or compact 
 with the infidels. The object of this war, he observed, was 
 not the subjection ot the Moors, but their utter expulsion from 
 the land, so that there might no longer remain a single stain 
 of Mahometan ism througliout Christian Spain. He gave it as 
 his opinion, therefore, that the captive king ought not to be 
 set at liberty. 
 
 Rodrigo Fonce de Leon, the valiant marquis of Cadiz, on 
 the contniry, spoke wannly for the release of Hoabdil. He 
 pronounced it a measure of sound policy, even if done without 
 conditions. It would tend to keep up the civil war in Gra- 
 nada, which was as a fire consuming the entrails of the enemy, 
 and ctfccting more for the interests of Spain, without expense, 
 than all the conquests of its arms. 
 
 The grand cardinal of Spain, Don Pedro Gonzalez de Men- 
 doza. coincided in opinion with the Marquis of Cadiz. " Nay," 
 added that pious prelate and politic statesman, " it would be 
 sound wisdom to furnish the M")or with men and money, and 
 all other necessaries to promote the civil war in Granada : by 
 this means would be produced great benefit to the service of 
 God, since we are assured by his infallible word, that ' a 
 kingdom divided against itself cannot stand.*' " 
 
 Ferdinand weighed these counsels in his mind, but was 
 slow in coming to a decision. " He was religiously attentive 
 to his own interests,"' observes Fray Antonio Agapidj> ; 
 " knowing himself to be but an insti'ument of Providence in 
 this holy war, and that, therefore, in consulting his own 
 advantage, he was promoting the interests of the faith." The 
 opinion of Queen Isabella relieved bim from his perplexity. 
 That high-minded princess was zealous for the promotion of 
 the faith, but not for the extermination of the infidels. The 
 Moorish kings had held their thrones as vassals to her pro- 
 genitors ; she was content, at present, to accord the same 
 privilege, and that the royal prisoner should be liberated, on 
 condition of becoming a vassal to the crown. By this means 
 might be efiected the deliverance of many Christian captives, 
 who were languishing in Moorish chains. 
 
 King Ferdinand adopted the magnanimous measure recom- 
 mended by the queen, but he accompanied it with several 
 shrewd conditions, exacting tribute, military services, and safe 
 * Salazar, Cronica del Gran Cardenal, p. 188. 
 
 
 Sf ) 
 
TREATMENT OF BOABDIL. 
 
 »t 
 
 n 
 
 I 
 
 
 passage and maintenance for Christian troops throughout the 
 places which should adhere to Boabdil. The captive king 
 readily submitted to these stipulations, and swore, after the 
 manner of his faith, to observe them with exactitude. A 
 truce was arranged for two years, during which the Castilian 
 sovereigns engaged to maintain him on his throne, and to 
 assist him in recovering all places which he had lost during 
 his captivity. 
 
 When Boabdil el Chico had solemnly agreed to this 
 arrangement in the castle of Porcuna. preparations were made 
 to receive him in Cordova in regal style. Superb steeds, 
 richly caparisoned, and raiment of brocade and silk, and the 
 most costly cloths, with all other articles of sumptuous array, 
 were furnished to him, and to fifty Moorish cavaliers, who 
 had come to treat for his ransom, that he might appear m 
 state befitting the monarch of Granada, and the most dis- 
 tinguished vassal of the Christian sovereigns. Money, also, 
 was advanced to maintain him in suitable grandeur during his 
 residence at the Castilian court, and his return to his domin- 
 ions. Finally, it was ordered by the sovereigns, that when 
 he came to Cordova, all the nobles and dignitaries of the court 
 should go forth to receive him. 
 
 A question now arose among certain of those ancient and 
 experienced men, who grow gray about a court in the pro- 
 found study of forms and ceremonials ; with whom a point of 
 punctilio is as a vast political right, and who contract a sublime 
 and awful idea of the external dignity of the throne. Certain 
 of these court sages propounded the momentous question, 
 whether tlie Moorish monarch, coming to do homage as a 
 vassal, ought not to kneel and kiss the hand of the king. 
 " This was immediately decided in the affirmative by a large 
 number of ancient cavaliers, accustomed," says Antonio 
 Agapida, " to the lofty punctilio of our most dignified court, 
 and transcendent sovereigns." The king, therefore, was in- 
 formed by those who arranged the ceremonials, that when the 
 Moorish monarch appeared in his presence, he was expected 
 to extend his royal hand to receive the kiss of homage. 
 
 " I should certainly do so," replied King Ferdinand, " were 
 he at liberty, and in his own kingdom ; but I certainly shall 
 not do so, seeing that he is a prisoner, and in mine." 
 
 The courtiers loudly applauded the magnanimity of this 
 reply, though many condemned »t in secret, as savouring of 
 
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9m THE COXQUEST OF OBAMADA. 
 
 too much gen'^rosity towards an infidel ; and the worthy 
 Jesuit Fray Antonio Agapida fully concurs in their opinion. 
 
 llie Moorish king entered Cordova with his little train of 
 faithful knights, and escorted by all the uobiiity and chivalry 
 of the CaKtilian court. He was conducted with great state 
 and ceremony to the royal ]}alace. When became in presence 
 of King Ferdinand he knelt, and offered to kiss his hand, not 
 merely in honiiigc as his subject, but in gratitude for his 
 liberty. Ferdinand declined the token of vassalage, and raised 
 him graciously from the earth. An interpreter began, in the 
 name of Boabdil to laud the magnanimity of the Castilian 
 monarch, and to promise the most implicit submission. 
 " Enough," said King Ferdinand, interrupting the interpreter 
 in the midst of his harangue ; " there is no need of these com- 
 plirc'nts. I trust in his inti'grity, that he will do everything 
 becoming a good man, and a good king." Withthene uords, 
 he received Boubdil cl Chico into his royal friendship and 
 protection. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 In the month of August, a noble Moor, of the mce of the 
 Abencerrages, arrived with a splendid retimu- ut the city of 
 Cordova, bringing with him the son of Buubdil el (hicu, and 
 other of the noble youths of Grannda. as hostoges for the 
 fulfilment of the terms of ransom. When the Moorish king 
 beheld his son, his only child, who was to remain in Lis stead, 
 a sort of captive in a hostile land, he iblded him in his ninis, 
 and wept over him. "Wo the day that I was bojn!" 
 exclaiinod he, "and evil the star that presided at my birth ! 
 well was I called El Zogoybi, or, ' the unlucky : ' Ibr sorrow 
 is heaped upon me by my lather, and sorrow do I transmit to 
 my son ! ' 
 
 The afflicted heart of Boabdil, hoMcver, was soothed by 
 the kindness of the Christian sovereigns, who received the 
 hostage prince with a tenderness suited to his age, and a dis- 
 tinction worthy of his rank. 
 
 They delivered him in charge to the wonuy nioayde Martin 
 de Alureon, who had treated his father with such courtesy, 
 during his eonfinrmeut in the eustle of Forcunu ; giving 
 orders, that, idler the de|.urlurc of the latter, his son should 
 
BSTUBN OP BOABDIL. 
 
 83 
 
 be entertainecl with great honour and princely attention in 
 the Mime fortress. 
 
 On the 2nd of September, a guard of honour amombled at 
 the gate of the mansion of Boabdil, to escort him to the 
 frontiers of his kingdom. He ]>re8sed his child to his heart 
 at parting ; but he uttered not a word, for there were many 
 Christian eyes to behold his emotion. He mounted his steed, 
 and never turned his head to look again upon the youth : but 
 those who were near him obser\'ed the vehement strutrgle 
 that shook his frame, >Yherein the anguish of the father had 
 well nigh subdued the studied e(iuanimity of the king. 
 
 Boabdil el Chico and King Ferdinand sallied furth, side by 
 side, from Cordova, amidst the acclamations of a prodigious 
 multitude. When they were a short distance from the city» 
 the^ separated, with many gracious expressions on the part 
 of the Castilian monarch, und many thankful acknowledg- 
 ments from his late ca])tive, whose heart had been humbled 
 by adversity. Ferdinand departed for Guadalupe, and 
 Boabdil for Granada. The latter was accompanied by a 
 guard of honour; and the viceroys of Andalusia, and the 
 generals on the frontier, were ordered to furnish him with 
 escorts, and to show him all iK)ssible honour on liis journey. 
 In this way, he was conducted, in royal stote, through the 
 country he had entered to ravage, and was placed in safety 
 in his own dominions. 
 
 He was met, on the frontier, by the principal nobles and 
 cavaliers of his court, who had been secretly sent by his 
 mother, the sultana Ayxa, to escort him to the capital. 
 
 The heart of Boabdil was lifted up for a moment, when he 
 found himself in his own teiritories, surrounded by Moslem 
 knights, with his own standards waving over his head ; and 
 he b( gan to doubt the predictions of astrologers. He soon 
 found cause, however, to moderate his exultation. The loyal 
 train, which had come to welcome him, was but scanty in 
 number ; ond he missed many of his most zealous and 
 obsequious courtiers. He had returned, indeed, to his 
 kingdom ; but it was no longer the devoted kingdom he had 
 left The story of his vassalage to the Christion sovereigns 
 had been made use of by his ihther to ruin him with his 
 people. He had bten represented as a traitor to his country, 
 a renegado to his faith, ond os leagued with the enemies of 
 both, to subdue the Moslems of Spuin to the yoke of ( hristian 
 
 Q 2 
 
84 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 bondf^e. In this way the mind of the public had been 
 turned from him. The greater part of the nobility had 
 thronged round the throne of his father in the Alhambra ; 
 and his mother, the resolute sultana Ayxa, with difficulty 
 maintained her faction in the opposite towers of the alca/aba. 
 
 Such was the melancholy picture of affairs given to Boubdil 
 by the courtiers who had come forth to meet him. 'JTiey 
 even informed him, that it would be an enterprise of difficulty 
 and danger to make his way back to the capital, and regain 
 the little court which still remained faithful to him in the 
 heart of the city. The old tiger, Muloy Aben Hassan, lay 
 couched within the Alhambra, and the walls and gates of the 
 city were strongly guarded by his troops. Boabdil shook his 
 head at these tidings. He called to mind the ill omen of his 
 breaking his lance against the gate of Elvira, when issuing 
 forth so vain-gloriously with his army, which he now saw 
 clearly foreboded the destruction of that army, on M'hich he 
 had so confidently relied. "Henceforth," said he, "let no 
 man have the impiety to scoff at omens." 
 
 Boabdil approached his capital by stealth, and in the night, 
 prowling about its walls like an enemy seeking to destroy, 
 rather than a monarch returning to his throne. At length 
 he seized upon a postern gate of the albaycin, a part of the 
 city which had always been in his favour. He passed rapidly 
 through the streets, before the populace were aroused from, 
 their sleep, and reached in safety the fortress of the alcazaba. 
 Here he was received into the embraces of his intrepid 
 mother, and his favourite wife Morayma. The transports of 
 the latter, on the safe return of her husband, were mingled 
 with tears ; for she thought of her father, Ali Atar, who had 
 fallen in his cause ; and of her only son, who was left a 
 hostage in the hands of the Christians. 
 
 The heart of Boabdil, softened by his misfortunes, m'u» 
 moved by the changes in everything round him ; but his 
 mother called up his spirit, "This," said she, " is no time 
 for tears and fondness : a king must think of his sceptre and 
 his throne, and not yield to softness like common men. 
 Tliou host done well, my son, in throwing thyself resolutely 
 into Granada : it must depend upon thyself whether thou 
 remain here a king or a captive." 
 
 llic old king, Muley Aben Hossen, had retired to his 
 couch that night, in one of the strongest towers of the 
 
BETUBX OF BOABDIL. 
 
 85 
 
 Alhambra ; but his restless anxiety kept him from repose. 
 In the first watch of the night, he heard a shout faintly rising 
 from the quarter of the idbaycin, which is on the opposite 
 pide of the deep valley of the Darro. Shortly afterwards, 
 horsemen came galloping up the hill that leads to the main 
 gate of the Alhambra, spreading the alarm, that Boabdil had 
 entered the city, and possessed himself of the alcazaba. 
 
 In the first transports of his rage, the old king woidd have 
 struck the messenger to earth. He hastily summoned his 
 councillors and commanders, exhorting them to stand by him 
 in this critical moment ; and, during the night, made every 
 preparation to enter the albaycin, sword in hand, in the 
 morning. 
 
 In the meantime, the sultana Ayxa had taken prompt 
 and vigorous measures to strengthen her party. The albaycin 
 was the part of the city filled by the lower orders. The 
 return of Boabdil was proclaimed throt^hout the streets, and 
 large sums of money were distributed among the populace. 
 The nobles, assembled in the alcazaba, were promised honours 
 and rewards by Boabdil, as soon as he should be firmly seated 
 on the throne. These well-timed measures had the customary 
 effect ; and by daybreak all the motley populace of the albaycin 
 were iii arms. 
 
 A doleful day succeeded. All Granada was a scene of 
 tumult and horror. Drums and trumpets resounded in every 
 part ; all business was interrupted ; the shops were shut, the 
 doors barricadoed. Armed bands paraded the streets ; some 
 shouting for Boabdil, and some for Muley Aben Hassan. 
 When they encountered each other, they foiight furiously, 
 and without mercy ; every public square became a scene of 
 battle, llie great mass of the lower orders were in favour 
 of Boabdil ; but it was a multitude without discipline or lofty 
 spirit. Part of the people was regularly armed ; but the 
 greater number had sallied forth with the implements of their 
 trade. The troops of the old king, among whom were many 
 cavaliers of pride and valour, soon drove the populace from 
 Che squares. They fortified themselves, however, in the 
 streets and lanes, which they barricadoed. They made 
 fortresses of their houses, and fought desperately from the 
 windows and the roofs ; and many a warrior of the highest 
 blood of Qranada was laid low by plebeian hands, and plebeian 
 weapons, in this civil brawl. 
 
86 
 
 THE CONQUEST Of- OBAXADA. 
 
 It was impossible that such violent convulsions should last 
 long in the heart of a city. The people soon longed for 
 repose, and a return to their peaceful occupations; and 
 the cavaliers detested these conflicts with the multitude, 
 in which there were all the horrors of war, without its laurels. 
 By the interference of the alfaquis, an armistice was at length 
 effected. Boabdil was persuaded, that there was no depend- 
 ance upon the inconstant favour of the multitude, and was 
 prevailed upon to quit a capital, where he could only maintain 
 a precarious seat upon his throne, by a perpetual and bloody 
 struggle. He fixed his court at the city of Almeria, which 
 was entirely devoted to him ; and which at that time vied 
 with Granada in splendour and importance. This compromise 
 of grandeur for tranquillity, however, was sorely against the 
 counsels of his proud, spirited mother, the sultana Ayxa. 
 Granada appeared in her eyes the only legitimate scat of 
 dominion ; and she observed, with a smile of disdain, that he 
 was not worthy of being called a monarch, who was not 
 master of his capital. 
 
 CHAPTER XXH. 
 
 Though Muley Aben Hassan had regained undivided sway 
 over the city of Granada ; and the alfaquis, by his commandf, 
 had denounced his son Boabdil as an apostate, and as one 
 doomed by Heaven to misfortune ; still the latter had many 
 adherents among the common people. Whenever, therefore, 
 any act of the old monarch was displeasing to the turbulent 
 multitude, they were prone to give him a hint of the slippery 
 nature of his standing, by shouting out the name of Boabdd 
 el Chico. Long experience had instructed Muley Aben 
 Hassan in the character of the inconstant people over whom 
 •he ruled. '* Allah achbar !" exclaimed he. " God is Great ! 
 but a successful inroad into the country of the unbelievers 
 will make more converts to my cause, than a thousand texts 
 of the Koran, expounded by ten thousand alfaquis." 
 
 At this time. King Ferdinand was absent from Andalusia 
 on a distant expedition, with many of his troops. The 
 moment was favourable for a foray ; and Muley Aben Hassan 
 cast about his thoughts for a leader to conduct it. Ali Atar, 
 the terror of the lM)rder, the scourge of Andalusia, was dead : 
 but there was another veteran general, scarce inferior to him 
 
 
 i 
 
BATTLE OF I.OPERA. 
 
 87 
 
 last 
 for 
 and 
 ude, 
 rels. 
 igth 
 ;nd. 
 
 for predatory warfare. This was old Bexir, the gray and 
 crafty nleayde of Mala<]^ ; and the people under his command 
 were ripe for an expedition of the kind. I1ic signal defeat 
 and slaughter of the Spanish knights, in the neighbouring 
 mountains, had filled the people of Malaga with vanity and 
 self-conceit ; they had attributed to their own valour the 
 defeat which had been caused by the nature of the country. 
 Many of them wore the armour, and paraded in public with 
 the horses, of the unfortunate ca^'aliers slain on that occasion ; 
 which they vauntingly displayed as the trophies of their 
 boasted victory. They had talked themselves into a contempt 
 for the chivalry of Andalusia, and were impatient for an 
 opportunity to overrun a country defended by such troops. 
 This Muley Aben Hassan considered a favourable state of 
 mini to ensure a dnring inroad ; and he sent orders to old 
 Bexir, to gather together his people, and the choicest warriors 
 of the borders, and to carry fire and sword into the very heart 
 of Andalusia. The wary old Bexir immediately despatched 
 his emissaries among the alcaydes of the border towns, calling 
 upon them to assemble, with their troops, at the city of 
 Ronda, close upon the Christian frontier. 
 
 Ronda was the most virulent nest of Moorish depredators 
 in the whole border country. It was situated in the midst of 
 the wild Serrania, or chain of mountains of the same name, 
 which are uncommonly lofty, broken, and precipitous. It 
 stood on an almost isolated rock, nearly encircled by a deep 
 valley, or rather chasm, through which ran the beautiful river 
 called Rio Verde. The Moors of this city were the most 
 active, robust, and warlike of all the mountaineers ; and their 
 very children discharged the crossbow with imening aim. 
 They were incessantly harassing the rich plains of Andalusia : 
 their city abounded with Christian spoils; and their deep 
 dungeons were crowded with Christian captives, who might 
 ■igh in vain for deliverance from this impregnable fortress. 
 Such was Ronda in the time of the Moors ; and it has ever 
 retained something of the same character, even to the present 
 day. Its inhabitants continue to be among the boldest, 
 fiercest, and most adventurous, of the Andalusian moun- 
 taineers ; and the Serrania de Ronda is famous, as the most 
 dangerous resort of the bandit and the contrabandista. 
 
 Hainet Zeli, sumamed £1 Zegri, was the commander of 
 this belligerent city and its fierce inhabitants. He was of the 
 
68 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBAITADA. 
 
 tribe of the Zegris, and one of the most proud and daring of 
 that warlike race. Beside the inhabitants of Uonda, he had 
 a legion of African Moors in his immediate service. They 
 were of the tribe of the Gomeres ; mercenary troops, whose 
 hot African blood had not yet been tempered by the softer 
 living of Spain; and whose whole business was to fight. 
 These he kept always well armed and well appointed. The 
 rich pasturage of the valley of Konda produced a breed of 
 horses, famous for strength and speed : no cavalry, therefore, 
 was better mounted than the band of Gomeres. Rapid on 
 the march, fierce in the attack, it would sweep down upon the 
 Andalusian plains like a sudden blast from the mountains, and 
 pass away as suddenly, before there was time for pursuit. 
 
 There was nothing that stirred up the spirit of the Moors 
 of the frontiers more thoroughly than the idea of a foray. 
 The summons of Bexir was gladly obeyed by the alcaydes of 
 the border towns ; and in a little while there was a force of 
 ^fteen hundred horse, and four thousand foot, the very pith 
 and marrow of the surrounding country, assembled within the 
 walls of Ronda. llie people of the place anticipated with 
 eagerness the rich spoils of Andalusia, that were soon to 
 •crowd their gates. Throughout the day, the city resounded 
 with the noise of kettledrum and trumpet ; the highmettled 
 steeds stamped and neighed in their stalls, as if they shared 
 the impatience for the foray; while the Christian captives 
 «ighed, as the varied din of preparation reached to their rocky 
 dungeons, denoting that a fresh assault was preparing against 
 their countrymen. 
 
 The infidel host sallied forth, full of spirits ; anticipating an 
 easy ravage, and abundant booty. They encouraged each 
 other in a contempt for the prowess of the foe. Many of the 
 warriors of Malaga, and of some of the mountain towns, had 
 insultingly arrayed themselves in the splendid armour of the 
 Christian knights, slain or taken prisoners in the famous 
 massacre; and some of them rode the Andalusian steedi 
 which had been captured on that occasion. 
 
 The wary Bexir had concerted his plans so secretly and 
 expeditiously, that the Christian towns of Andalusia had not 
 the least suspicion of the storm, that had gathered beyond the 
 mountains. The vast and rocky range of the Serrania de 
 Ronda extended like a skreen, covering all their movements 
 jfirom observation. 
 
 « 
 
 town 
 them 
 
BATTLE OF XOPEBA. 
 
 89 
 
 of 
 ad 
 
 The army made its way as rapidly as the nigged nature of 
 the mountains would permit, guided by Hamet el Zegri, the 
 bold aleayde of Ronda, who knew every pass and defile. Not 
 a drum, nor the clash of a cymbal, nor the blast of a trumpet, 
 was permitted to be heard. The mass of war rolled quietly 
 on, as the gathering cloud to the brow of the mountains, 
 intending to burst down, like the thunderbolt, upon the plain. 
 
 Never let the most wary commander fancy himself secure 
 from discovery ; for rocks have eyes, and trees have ears, and 
 the birds of the &ir have tongues, to betray the most secret 
 enterprise. There chanced, at this time, to be six Christian 
 scouts prowling about the savage heights of the Serrania de 
 Ronda. They were of that kind of lawless ruffians who infest 
 the borders of belligerent countries, ready at any time to fight 
 for pay, or prowl for plunder. The wild moimtain passes of 
 Spain have ever abounded with loose, rambling vagabonds of 
 the kind ; soldiers in war, robbers in peace ; guides, guards, 
 smugglers, or cut- throats, according to the circumstances of 
 the case. 
 
 *' These six marauders," says Fray Antonio Agapida, 
 " were, on this occasion, chosen instruments, sanctified by the 
 righteousness of their cause. They were lurking among the 
 mountains, to entrap Moorish cattle, or Moorish prisoners ; 
 both of which were equally saleable in the Christian market." 
 
 They had ascended one of the loftiest cliffs, aud were look- 
 out, like birds of prey, ready to pounce upon any thing that 
 might offer in the valley, when they descried the Moorish 
 army emerging from a mountain glen. 'I'hey watched it in 
 silence, as it wound below them, remark: ;g the standards of 
 the various towns, and the pennons of the commanders. They 
 hovered about it, on its march, skulking from cliff to cliff, un- 
 til they saw the route by which it intended to enter the 
 Christian country. They then dispersed, each making his 
 way, by the secret passes of the mountains, to some different 
 aleayde, that they might spread the alarm far and wide, and 
 each get a separate reward. 
 
 One hastened to Luis Fernandez Puerto Carrero, the same 
 valiant aleayde who had repulsed Midey Aben Hassan from 
 the walls of Alhama, and who now commanded at Ecija, in 
 the absence of the master of Santiago. Others roused the 
 town of Utrera, and the places of that neighbourhood, putting 
 them all on the alert. 
 
 li 
 
90 
 
 THE COHQUEST OF OBAKADA. 
 
 ',■ I 
 
 Puerto Carrero was a cavalier of consummate rigour and 
 activity. He immediately sent couriers to the alcaydes of the 
 neighbouring fortresses, to Herman Carrello. captain of a body 
 of the Holy Brotherhood, and to certain knights of the order 
 of Alcantara. Puerto Carrero was the first to take the field. 
 Knowing the hard and hungry service of these border scam- 
 pers, he made every man take a hearty repast, and see that 
 nis horse was well shod, and perfectly appointed. Then, all 
 being refreshed, and in valiant art, he sallied forth to seek the 
 Moors. He had but a handful of men, the retainers of his 
 household, and troops of his captaincy ; but they were well 
 armed and mounted, and accustomed to the sudden rouses of 
 the border ; men with whom the cry of " Arm and out ! to 
 horse and to the field!" was sufficient at any time to put 
 them in a fever of animation. 
 
 While the northern part of Andalusia was thus on the alert, 
 one of the scouts had hastened southward, to the city of 
 Xeres, and given the alarm to the valiant Marquis of Cadiz. 
 When the marquis heard, that the Moor was over the border, 
 and that the standard of Malaga was in the advance, his heart 
 bounded with a momentary joy; for he remembered the 
 massacre in the mountains, where his valiant brothers had 
 been mangled before his eyes. The very authors of his cala- 
 mity were now at hand, and he flattered himself that the day 
 of vengeance had arrived. 
 
 He made a hasty levy of his retainers, and of the fighting 
 men of Xeres, and buried off, with three hundred horse and 
 two hundred foot, all resolute men, and panting for revenge. 
 
 In the meantime, the veteran Bexir had accomplished his 
 march, as he imagined, undiscovered. From the openings <^ 
 the craggy defiles, he pointed out the fertile plains of Anda- 
 lusia, and regaled the eyes of his soldiery with the rich 
 country they were about to ravage. The fierce Gomeres of 
 Ronda were flushed with joy at the sight ; and even their 
 steeds seemed to prick up their ears, and snuff the breeise, as 
 they beheld the scenes of their frequent forays. 
 
 When they came to where the mountain defile opened into 
 the low land, Bexir divided his force into three parts : one, 
 composed of foot soldiers, and of such as were weakly 
 mounted, he left to guard the pass ; being too experienced a 
 veteran not to know the importance of securing a retreat. A 
 second body he placed in ambush, among the groves and 
 
BA.TTLS or LOrXKA. 
 
 91 
 
 as 
 
 thickets on the banks of the river Ix>pera. The third, con- 
 sisting of light cavaby, he sent forth to ravage the Campifia, 
 or great plaiii of Utrera. Most of this latter force was com- 
 posed of the fiery Gomercs of Ronda, mounted on the fleet 
 steeds bred among the mountains. It was led by the bold 
 alycadc Hamet el Zegri, who was ever eager to be foremost in 
 the foray. 
 
 Little suspecting, that the country on both sides was on 
 the aLirm. and rushing from all directions to close upon them 
 in rear, this fier^' troop dashed forward, until they came within 
 two leagues of Utrera. Here they scattered themselves about 
 the plain, careering round the great herds of cattle, and flocks 
 of sheep, and sweeping them into di'oves, to be hurried to the 
 mountains. 
 
 While they were thus dispersed in every direction, a troop 
 of horse, and body of foot, from Utrera, came suddenly upon 
 them. The Moors rallied together in small parties, and en- 
 deavoured to defend themselves : but they were without a 
 leader ; fur Haiuet el Zegri was at a distance, having, like a 
 hawk, mide a wide circuit in pursuit of his prey. The ma- 
 rauders soon gave way, and fled towards the ambush on the 
 banks of the Lopera, being hotly pursued by the men of Utrera. 
 When they reached the Lopera, the Moors in ambush rushed 
 forth, with furious cries ; and the fugitives, recovering cou- 
 rage from this reinforcement, rallied, and turned upon their 
 pursuers. The Christians stood their ground, though greatly 
 inferior in number. Their lances were soon broken, and they 
 came to sharp work with sword and cimeter. The Christians 
 fought valiantly, but were in danger of being overwhelmed. The 
 bold Hamet had collected a handful of his scattered Gomeres ; 
 and leaving his prey, had galloped towards the scene of action. 
 His little troop of horsemen had reached the crest of a rising 
 ground, at no great distance, when trumpets were heard in 
 another direction, and Luis Fernandez Puerto Carrero, and 
 his followers, came galloping into the field, and charged upon 
 the infidels in flank. 
 
 The Moors were astounded, at finding war thus breaking 
 upon them from various quarters of what they had expected 
 to find an unguarded country. They fought for a short time 
 with desperation, and resisted a vehement assault from the 
 knights of Alcantara, and the men-at-arms of the Holy 
 Brotherhood. At length the veteran Bexir was struck from 
 
92 
 
 THE CONQUEST OV OBAKADA. 
 
 H) 
 
 his horse by Puerto Carrero, and taken prisoner, and the 
 whole force gave way and fled. In their flight they separated, 
 and took two roads to the mountains ; thinking, by dividing 
 their forces, to distract the enemy. The Christians were too 
 few to separate. Puerto Carrero kept them together, pur- 
 suing one division of the enemy with great slaughter. This 
 battle took place at the fountain of the fig tree, near to the 
 Lopera. Six hundred Moorish cavaliers were slain, and 
 many taken prisoners. Much spoil was collected on the 
 field, with which the Christians returned in triumph to their 
 homes. 
 
 The larger body of the enemy had retreated along a 
 road, leading more to the south, by the banks of the Ouade- 
 lete. When they reached that river, the sound of pursuit 
 had died away; and they rallied, to breathe and refresh 
 themselves on the margin of the stream. Their force was 
 reduced to about a thousand horse and a confused multitude 
 of foot. While they were scattered, and partly dismounted on 
 the banks of the Gaudelete, a fresh storm of war burst upon 
 them from an opposite direction. It was the Marquis of 
 Cadiz, leading on his household troops, and the fightii^ men 
 of Xeres. When the Christian warriors came in sight of the 
 Moors, they were roused to fury at beholding many of them 
 arrayed in the armour of the cavaliers who had been slain 
 among the mountains of Malaga. Nay, some who had been 
 in that defeat, beheld their own armour, which they had cast 
 away in their flight, to enable themselves to climb the moun- 
 tains. Exasperated at the sight, they rushed upon the foe, 
 with the ferocity of tigers, rather than the temperate courage 
 of cavaliers. Each man felt as if he were avenging the death 
 of a relative, or wiping out his own disgrace. The good 
 marquis himself beheld a powerful Moor bestriding the horse 
 of his brother Beltran : giving a cry of rage and anguish at 
 the sight, he rushed through the thickest of the enemy, at- 
 tacked the Moor with resistless fury, and, after a short combat, 
 hurled him breathless to the earth. 
 
 The Moors, already vanquished in spirit, could not with- 
 stand the assault of men thus madly excited. They soon 
 gave way, and fled for the defile of the Serrania de Ronda, 
 where the body of troops had been stationed to secure a 
 retreat. These, seeing them come galloping wildly up the 
 defile, with Christian banners in pursuit, and the flash of 
 
 • "El 
 capaceta 
 muchasi 
 dejado p 
 hombrea 
 tomodos 
 quedaroi 
 PalacioB 
 
BETBEAT OF HAMKT EL ZEOBI. 
 
 98 
 
 weapons at their deadly work, thought all Andalusia was upon 
 them, and fled, without awaiting an attack. The pursuit 
 continued among glens and defiles ; for the Christian warriors, 
 eager for revenge, had no compassion on the foe. 
 
 When the pursuit was over, the Marquis of Cadiz and his 
 followers reposed themselves upon the hanks of the Gaudelcte, 
 where they divided the spoil. Among this were found many 
 rich corslets, helmets, and weapons, the Moorish trophies of 
 the defeat in the mountains of Malaga. Several were claimed 
 by their owners, others were known to have belonged to noble 
 cavaliers, who had been slain or taken prisoners. There were 
 several horses also, richly caparisoned, which had pranced 
 proudly with the unfortunate warriors, as they sallied out 
 of Antequera upon that fatal expedition. Thus the exulta- 
 tion of the victors was dashed with melancholy, and many a 
 knight was seen lamenting over the helmet or corslet of some 
 loved companion in arms. 
 
 The good Marquis of Cadiz was resting under a tree, on 
 the banks of the Gaudelete, when the horse, which had 
 belonged to his slaughtered brother Beltran, was brought to 
 him. He laid his hand upon the mane, and looked wistfully 
 at the empty saddle. His bosom heaved with violent agita- 
 tion, and his lip quivered, and was pale. **Ay dc mi, mi 
 hermano!" "Wo is me, my brother!" was all that he said, 
 for the grief of a warrior has not many words. He looked 
 around on the field strewed with the bodies of the enemy ; 
 and, in the bitterness of his wo, he felt consoled by the idea, 
 that his brother had not been unrevenged.* 
 
 CHAPTER XXni. 
 
 The bold alcayde of Konda, Haraet el Zegri, had careered 
 wide over the campina of Utrera, encompassing the flocks 
 and herds, when he heard the burst of war at a distance. 
 There were with him but a handful of his Gomeres. lie saw 
 
 * "En el despojo de la batalla ee vieron muchas ricas coraras e 
 capacetas e barberas de las que se habian perdido en el Axarquia e otras 
 muchas armas, e algunaa fueron coaocidaa de bus dueftos que las havian 
 dejado para fuir, e otras fueron conocidas, que eran muy sefialadaa de 
 hombres principales que bavian quedado muertos e cautivos e fueron 
 tomodoa muchos de loa mismos cayallos con sug ricas si lias, de los que 
 quedaron en la Axarquia, e fueron conocidos cuios eran." — Cura de los 
 Palacios, c. 67. 
 
94 
 
 THB C0NQDB3T OF GRANADA. 
 
 the scamper and pursuit afar off, and beheld the Christian 
 horsemen spuning madly on towordtt the nmbuscode, on the 
 banks of the Lopera. Hamet tossed his hand triumphantly 
 aloft for his men to follow him. " The Christian dogs are 
 ours!" said he, as he put spurs to his horse, to take the 
 enemy in rear. 
 
 The little band which followed Hamet scarcely amounted 
 to thirty horsemen. They sjjurrcd across the plain, and 
 reached a rising ground, just as the force of Puerto 
 Carreia had charged, with sound of trumpet, upon the flank 
 of the party in ambush. Hamet beheld the htadlung rout 
 of the army with rage and consternation. He found the 
 country was pouring forth its h gions ircm every qu«i ter, and 
 perceived that theie was no safety but in precipitate fligiit. 
 But which way to fly ? an army was between him and the 
 mountain pass: all the forces of the neighbuui liood were 
 rushing to the borders , the whole route by which he had 
 come was, by this time, occupied by the foe. He checked 
 his steed, rose in his stirru])S, and rolled a stern and thought- 
 ful eye over the country : then, sinking into his saddle, he 
 seemed to cou.mune for a moment with himself. Turning 
 quickly to his troop, he singled out a renegado Christian, a 
 traitor to his religitm and his king. "Come hither," said 
 Hanut: "thou knowest all the secret passesof this country?" 
 " I do," replied the ren( gado. " Dost thou know any cir- 
 cuitous route, solitary and untravelled, by vhich we (an pass 
 wide within these troops, and reach the Serrania?' The 
 rent gado paused : " 8ueh a route I know, but it is full of 
 peril ; for it leads through the hcnrt of the Christian land." 
 *' It is well,'" said Hamet. "the more dangerous in a| pearancc, 
 the less it will he suspected. Now, hearken to me. Hide by 
 my side. Thou seest this purse of gold and tliis cimeter. 
 Take us by the route thou hast mentioned, safe to the pass of 
 the Serrania. and this purse shall be thy reward : betriiy us, 
 and this cimeter shall cleave thee to the saddle bow.'"* 
 
 The renegado obeyed, trembling. They turned off from 
 the direct road to the mountains, and struck southward to- 
 M'ards Le'bri.xu. passing by the most solitary roads, and along 
 those deep ramblas and ravines by which the country is inter- 
 sected. It was indeed o daring course. Every now and then 
 they heord the distant sound of trumpets, and the alarm hells 
 * Cura (le lus I'ulaciod, uhi supra. 
 
 U 
 
u 
 
 Ihristian 
 on the 
 iphantly 
 dogs are 
 take the 
 
 mounted 
 lin, and 
 
 Puerto 
 the flank 
 oiiff rout 
 lund the 
 iter, nnd 
 te fliglit. 
 
 and the 
 )()d were 
 1 he had 
 
 checked 
 
 though t- 
 
 addle, he 
 
 Turning 
 ri^tian, a 
 ler," tnid 
 rcuntiy?" 
 
 any cir- 
 
 (Ru pnes 
 I?' The 
 is full of 
 in land." 
 neainnce, 
 
 Kide by 
 
 cimeter. 
 le pa.'«8 of 
 ctitiy U8, 
 
 oflf from 
 iward to- 
 
 nd along 
 • is iiit«?r- 
 
 and then 
 arm bells 
 
 REIBEAT OF HAJC£T £L ZEOKI. 
 
 of towns and villages, and found that the war was still hur- 
 rying to the borders. They hid themselves in thickets, and 
 in the dry bods of rivers, until the danger had passed by, and 
 then resumed their course. Hamet el Zegri rode on in silence, 
 his hand upon his cimeter. and his eye upon the renegado 
 guide, prepared to sacrifice him on the least sign of treachery; 
 while his band followed, gnawing their lips with rage, at hav- 
 ing thus to skulk through a country they had come to ravage. 
 
 Wlien night fell, they struck into more practicable roadif, 
 always keeping wide of the villages and hamlets, lest the 
 watchdogs should betray them. In this way they passed, in 
 deep midnight, by Arcos, crossed the Guadalete, and effected 
 their retreat to the mountains. The day dawned as they 
 made their way up the savage defiles. Their comrades had 
 been hunted up these very glens by the enemy. Every now 
 and then they came to where there had been a partial fight, 
 or a slaughter of the fugitives; and the rocks were red with 
 blood, and strewed witli mangled bodies. The alcayde of 
 Kondu was almost frantic with rage ut seeing many of his 
 bravest warriors, lying stiff and stark, a prey to the hawks 
 and vultures of the mountains. Now and then some wretched 
 Moor would crawl out of a cave or glen, whither he had fled 
 for refuge; for, in the retreat, many of the horsemen had 
 abandoaed their steeds, thrown away their armour, and clam- 
 bered up the cliffs, whore they could not be pursued by tho 
 Christian cavalry. 
 
 The Moorish army had sallied forth from Ronda amidst 
 shouts and acclamations; but wailings were henid within its 
 walls, us the alcayde and his broken band retin-ned, without 
 banner or trumpet, and haggard with famine and fatigue. 
 The tidings of their disaster had preceded them, borne by tho 
 fugitives of the army. No one ventured to speak to the stern 
 I la met el Zegri as he entered the city, for they saw a dark 
 cloud gathered upon his brow. 
 
 " It seemed," says the j)iou8 Antonio Agapida, " ns if Hea- 
 ven meted out this defeat, in exact retribution for the ills 
 inflicted upon the Christian warriors in the heights of Malaga." 
 It was equally signal and disastrous. Of the brilliant array 
 of Moorish chivalry, which descended so confidently into An- 
 dalusia, not more than two hundred escaped. The choicest 
 troops of the frontier were either taken or destroyed; the 
 Moorish garrisons cnl'ccblcd, uud many alcaydcs and cuvuliera 
 
 •II 
 
I 
 
 96 
 
 THE CONaUEST OF OBAVADA. 
 
 of noble lineage carried into captivity, who were afterwards 
 obliged to redeem themselves with hea>y ransoms. 
 
 This was called the battle of Lo])era, and was fought on the 
 17th of September, 1483. Ferdinand and Isabelb were at 
 Vittoria, in Old Castile, when they received news of the vic- 
 tory, and the standards taken from the enemy. They cele- 
 brated the event with processions, illuminations, and other 
 festivities. Ferdinand sent to the Marquis of Cadiz the royal 
 raiment which he had worn on that day, and conferred on 
 him, and all those who should inherit his title, the privilege 
 of wearing royal robes on our Lady's day in September, in 
 commemoration of this victory. 
 
 Queen Isabella was equally mindfid of the great services 
 of Don Luis Fernandez Puerto Carrero. Beside many en- 
 comiums and favours, she sent to his wife the royal vestments 
 and robe of brocade, which she had worn on the same day, 
 to be worn by her, during her life, on the anniversary of that 
 battle.* 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 In the midst of the bustle of warlike affairs, the worthy 
 chronicler Fray Antonio Agapida pauses to note, with curious 
 accuracy, the distinguished reception given to the Count de 
 Cabra, and his nephcM', the alcayde de los Donzeles, at the 
 stately and ceremonious court of Castile, in reward for the 
 capture of the Moorish king Boabdil. 
 
 "The court,'' he observes, " was held, at the time, in the 
 ancient Moorish palace of the city of Cordova; and the cere- 
 monials were arranged by that venerable prelate Don Pedro 
 Gonzales de Mendoza, bishop of Toledo, and grand caidinal 
 of Spain. 
 
 " It was on Wednesday, the 14th of October," continues the 
 precise Antonio Agapida, " that the good Count de Cabra, 
 according to arrangement, appeared at the gate of Cordova. 
 Here he was met by the grand cardinal, and the Duke of 
 Villahermosa, illegitimate brother of the king, together with 
 many of the first grandees and prelates of the kingdom. By 
 tins august train was he attended to the palace, amidst 
 triumphant strains of martial music, and the shouts of a pro- 
 digious multitude. 
 
 * Marisns. Abarca. Zurita. Pulgar, Ac. 
 
BECEPTIOK AT COURT OF THE COUNT DE CABBA. 97 
 
 *' \Vhen the count arrived in presence of the sovereigns, 
 who were seated in stite, on a dais, or raised part of the llall 
 of Audience, tlicy both arose. The king advanced exactly 
 five stops towards the count, who knelt, and kissed his Ma- 
 jesty's hand ; but the king would not receive him as a mere 
 vassal, but embraced him with affectionate cordiality, llie 
 queen also advanced two steps, and received the count with 
 a eouiilenance full of sweetness and benignity. After he had 
 kissed her hand, the king and queen returned to their thrones ; 
 and. oushions being brought, they desired tho worthy count 
 to be seated in their j)resence." This last circumstance is 
 written in large letters, and followed by several notes of ad- 
 miration, in the manuscript of the worthy Fray Antonio Aga- 
 pida ; who considers the extraordinary privilege of sitting in 
 the ])rcscncc of tlie catholic sovereigns an honour well worth 
 fighting for. 
 
 " The good count took his scat at a short distance from the 
 king ; and near him was seated the Duke of Najera, then 
 the Bishop of Palencia, then the Count of Aguilar, the Count 
 Luna, and Don Gutierc de Cardenas, senior commander of 
 Leon. 
 
 " On the side of the queen were seated the grand cardinal 
 of Spain, the Duke of Villahermosa, the Count of Monte 
 Key, and the Bishops of Jaen and Cuenca, each in the order 
 in which they arc named. The Infanta Isabella was pre- 
 vented, by indisposition, from attending this ceremony. • 
 
 *' And now festive music resounded through the sumptuous 
 hall ; and, behold, twenty ladies of the queen's retinue en- 
 tered, magnificently attired; upon which twenty youthful 
 cavaliers, very gay and galliard iu their array, stepped forth ; 
 and, each taking his fair partner, they commenced a stately 
 dance. The court, in the meantime," observes Fray Antonio 
 Agapida, " looked on with lofty and becoming gravity. 
 
 " When the dance was concluded, tho king and queen rose, 
 to retire to supper, and dismissed the court with many gra- 
 cious expressions. He was then attended, by all the grandees 
 present, to the palace of the grand cardinal, where tliey par- 
 took of a sumptuous banquet. 
 
 '' On the following Saturday, the alcaydo de los Donzelcs 
 was received likewise with great honours; but the ceremonies 
 were so arranged, as to be a degree less in dignity than those 
 shown to his uncle ; the latter being considered the principal 
 
 
98 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBAKADA. 
 
 actor in this great achievement. Thus, the grand cardinal 
 and the Duke of Villahermosa did not meet him at the gate 
 of the city, but received him in the palace, and entertained 
 him in conversation until summoned to the soverei{>n8. 
 
 " When the alcayde de los Donzeles entered the presence 
 chamber, the king and queen rose from their chairs; but, 
 without advancing, they embraced him graciously, and com- 
 manded him to be seated next to the count de Cabra. 
 
 "The Infanta Isabella came forth to this reception, and 
 took her seat beside the queen. When the court were all 
 seated, the music again sounded through the hall, and the 
 twenty ladies came forth, as on the preceding occasion, richly 
 attired, but in different raiment. They danced, as before ; 
 and the Infanta Isabella, taking a young Portuguese damsel 
 for a partner, joined in the dance. When this was concluded, 
 the king and queen dismissed the alcayde de los Donzeles 
 with great courtesy, and the court broke up." 
 
 The worthy Fray Antonio Agapida here indulges in a long 
 eulogy on the scrupulous discrimination of the Castilian court, 
 in the distribution of its honours and rewards; by which 
 means every smile, and gesture, and word, of the sovereigns 
 had its certain value, and conveyed its equivalent of joy to 
 the heart of the subject: "a matter well worthy the study," 
 says he, " of all monarchs ; who are too apt to distribute 
 honours with a heedless caprice, that renders them of no avail. 
 
 " On the following Sunday, both the Count de Cabra and 
 the alcayde de los Donzeles were invited to sup with the sove- 
 reigns. The court, that evening, was attended by the highest 
 nobility, arrayed with that cost and splendour for which the 
 Spanish nobiUty of those days was renowned. 
 
 " Before supper, there was a stately and ceremoniou.H 
 dance, befitting the dignity of so august a court. Tlie king 
 led forth the queen, in grave and graceful measure; the 
 Count do Cabra was honoured with the hand of the Infanta 
 Isabella; and the alcayde de los Donzeles danced with a 
 daughter of the Marquis de Astoiva. 
 
 ** llie dance being concluded, we royal party repaired to 
 the supper table, which was placed on an elevated part of the 
 saloon. Here, in full view of the court, the Count de Cabra 
 and the alcayde de los Donzeles supped at the same tablo 
 with the king, the queen, and the Infanta. The royal family 
 were served by the Marquis of ViUena. The cupbearer to 
 
SURPRISE OF ZAHARA. 
 
 to 
 
 the kin^ was his nephew, Fadrique de Toledo, sou to the 
 Duke of Alva. Don Alonzo de Estaiiiga had the honour of 
 fulfiUin^^ that office for the queen, and Tello de Aguilar for 
 the Infanta. Other cavaliers of rank and distinction waited 
 on the count and the alcayde de los Donzeles. At one o'clock, 
 the two distinguished guests were dismissed, with many cour- 
 teous expressions, by the sovereigns.* 
 
 " Such," says Fray Antonio Agapida, " were the great 
 honours, paid at o\ir most exalted and ceremonious court, to 
 these renowned cavaliers. But the gratitude of the sovereigns 
 did not enfi here. A few days afterwards, they bestowed 
 upon them large revenues for life, and others to descend to 
 their heirs ; with the privilege, for them and their descen- 
 dants, to prefix the title of Don to their names. They gave 
 them, moreover, as armorial bearings, a Moor's head crowned, 
 with a golden chain round the neck, in a sanguine field, and 
 twenty-two banners round the margin of the escutcheon. 
 Their descendants, of the houses of Cabra and Cordova, con- 
 tinue to bear these arms at the present day, in memorial 
 of the victory of Lucena, and the capture of Boabdil cl 
 Chico." 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 The valiant Roderigo Ponce de Leon, Marquis of Cadiz, 
 was one of the most vigilant of commanders. He kept in 
 his pay a number of converted Moors, to serve as adalides or 
 armed guides. These mongrel Christians were of great ser- 
 vice in procuring information. Availing themselves of their 
 Moorish character and tongue, they penetrated into the ene- 
 mies' country, prowled about the castles and fortresses, 
 noticed the ntato of the walls, the gates, and towers ; the 
 strength of their garrisons, and the vigilance or negligence 
 of their commanders. AH this they reported minutely to the 
 marquis ; who thus knew the state of every fortress upon the 
 frontier, and when it might be attacked with advantage. 
 Besides the various towns and cities over which he held a 
 feudal sway, he had always an armed force about him, ready 
 
 * Tho account giveu by Fray Aatonio Agapida, of this oeremonial, 
 fO characteristic of tlie old Spanish court, agrees in almost eveiy par- 
 ticular, with an ancient manuscript* made np from tho Chronicles Qf 
 the eorate of los Palacios, and other old Spaniah writers. 
 
 H 2 
 
100 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 for the field. A host of retainers fed in his hall, who were 
 ready to follow him to danger, and death itself, without 
 inquiring who, or why, they fought. The armories of his 
 castles were supplied with helms, and cidrasses, and weapons 
 of all kinds, ready burnished for use ; and his stables were 
 filled with hardy steeds, that could stand a mountain 
 scamper. 
 
 The marquis was aware, that the late defeat of the Moors, 
 on the banks of the Lopera, had weakened their whole 
 frontier ; for many of the castles and fortresses had lost their 
 alcaydcs and their choicest troops. He sent put his war 
 hounds, therefore, upon the range, to ascertain where a suc- 
 cessf'id blow might be struck ; and they soon returned with 
 word, that Zahara was weakly garrisoned, and short of 
 provisions. 
 
 This was the very fortress which, about two years before, 
 had been stormed by Muley Aben Hassan ; and its capture 
 had been the first blow of this eventful war. It had ever 
 since remained a thorn in the side of Andalusia. All the 
 Christians had been carried away captive, and no civil popu- 
 lation had been introduced in their stead. There were no 
 women or children in the place. It was kept up as a mere 
 military post, commanding one of the most important passes 
 of the mountains, and was a strong-hold of Moorish marau- 
 ders. The marquis was animated by the idea of regaining 
 this fortress for his sovereigns, and wresting from the old 
 Moorish king this boasted trophy of his prowess. 
 
 He «:{?nt missives, therefore, to the brave Luis Fernandez 
 Puetro Carrero, who had distinguished himself in the late 
 victory, and to Juan Almaraz, captain of the men-at-arms of 
 the Iloly Brotherhood, informing them of his designs, and 
 inviting them to meet him with their forces on the banks of 
 the Guadalete. 
 
 " It was on the day," says Fray Antonio Agapida, " of 
 the glorious apostles St. Simon and Judas, the 28th of Oc- 
 tober, in the year of grace 1483, that this chosen band of 
 Christian soldiers assembled, suddenly and secretly, at the 
 appointed place. Their forces, when united, amounted to 
 SIX hundred horse and fifteen hundred foot. Tlieir gathering 
 place was at the entrance of the defile leading to Zahara. 
 That ancient town, renowned in Moorish warfare, is situated 
 \a one of the roughest passes of the Serrania de Ronda. It 
 
 l)arl 
 scoi 
 
 pns! 
 sho 
 mo." 
 
8URFBISE OF ZAHARA. 
 
 101 
 
 is built round the craggy cone of a hill, on the lofty summit 
 of which is a strong castle. The country around is broken 
 into deep barrancas or ravines, some of which approach its 
 very walls. The place had, until recently, been considered 
 impregnable ; but," as the worthy Fray Antonio Agapida 
 observes, " the walls of impregnable fortresses, like the 
 virtue of self-confident saints, have their weak points of 
 attack." 
 
 The Marquis of Cadiz advanced with his little army in the 
 dead of the night, marching silently up the deep and dark 
 defiles of the mountains, and stealing up the ravines, which 
 extended to the walls of the town. Their approach was so 
 noiseless, that the Moorish sentinels upon the walls heard 
 not a voice or a footfall. The marquis was accompanied by 
 his old escalador, Ortega de Prado, who had distinguished 
 himself at the scaling of Alhama. This hardy veteran was 
 stationed with ten men, furnished with scaling ladders, in a 
 cavity among the rocks, close to the walls : at a little dis- 
 tance seventy men were hid in a ravine, to be at hand to 
 second him, when he should have fixed his ladders. The rest 
 of the troops were concealed in another ravine, commanding 
 a fair approach to the gate of the fortress. A shrewd and 
 wary adalid, well acquainted with the place, was appointed 
 to give signals ; and was so stationed, that he could be seen 
 by the various parties in ambush, but was hidden from the 
 garrison. 
 
 The remainder of the night passed away in profound quiet. 
 The Moorish sentinels could be heard tranquilly patrolling tho 
 walls, in perfect security : the day dawned, and the rising sun 
 began to shine against the lofty peaks of the Serrania de 
 Konda : the sentinels looked, from their battlements, over a 
 stivage but quiet mountain country, where not a human being 
 was stirring; they little dreamed of the mischief that lay 
 lurking in every ravine and chasm of the rocks around them. 
 Apprehending no danger of surprise in broad day, the greater 
 part of the soldiers abandoned the walls and towers, and de- 
 scended into the city. 
 
 By orders of the marquis, a small body of light cavalry 
 passed along the glen, and, turning round a point of rock, 
 showed themselves before the town ; they skirted the field al- 
 most to the gates, as if by way of bravado, and to defy the 
 garrison to a skirmish. The Moors were not slow in replying 
 
102 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBAKADA. 
 
 to it. About seventy horse, and a number of foot who had 
 guarded the walls, sallied foith impetuously, thinking to make 
 an easy prey of these insolent marauders, llie Christian horse- 
 men fled for the ravine ; the Moors pursued them down the 
 hill, imtil they heard a great shouting and tumult behind 
 them. Looking round, they beheld their town assailed, and 
 a scaling party mounting the walls, sword in hand. Wheeling 
 about, they galloped furiously for the gate. The Marqiiis of 
 Cadiz and Luis Fernandez Puerto Carrero rushed forth at the 
 same time with their ambuscade and endeavoured to cut them 
 off; but the Moors succeeded in throwing themselves within 
 the walls. 
 
 While Puerto Carrero stormed at the gate, the marquis put 
 spurs to his horse, and galloped to the support of Ortega de 
 Prado and his scaling party. He arrived at a moment of im- 
 minent peril, when the party was assailed by fifty Moors 
 armed with cuirasses and lances, who were on the point of 
 thrusting them from the walls. The marquis sprang from his 
 horse, mounted a ladder, sword in hand, followed by a num- 
 ber of his troops, and made a vigorous attack upon the 
 enemy.* They were soon driven from the walls, and the 
 gates and towers remained in possession of the Christians. 
 The Moors defended themselves for a short time in the street; 
 but at length took refuge in the castle, the walls of which 
 were strong, and capable of holding out until relief should 
 arrive. The marquis had no desire to carry on a siege, and 
 he had not provisions sufficient for many prisoners: he 
 granted them, therefore, favourable terms. They were per- 
 mitted, on leaving their arms behind them to march out, 
 with as much of their effects as they could carry ; and it was 
 stipulated, that they should pass over to Barbary. The mar- 
 quis remained in the place, until both town and castle were 
 put in a perfect state of defence, and strongly garrisoned. 
 
 Thus did Zahara retiun once more into the possession of 
 the Christians, to the great confusion of old Muley Aben 
 Hassan; who, having paid the penalty of his ill-timed 
 violence, was now deprived of its vaunted fruits. The 
 Castilian sovereigns were so gratified by this achievement of 
 the valiant Ponce de Leon, that they authorized him, thence- 
 forth, to entitle himself Duke of Cadiz and Marquis of Zahara. 
 The warrior, however, was so proud of the original title, 
 
 * Cure dc los Palacios, c. 68. 
 
IHE FOSTBESS OF ALUAMA. 
 
 103 
 
 nrho had 
 to make 
 n horse- 
 )wn the 
 behind 
 led, and 
 Wheeling 
 irquis of 
 h at the 
 ut them 
 s within 
 
 quis put 
 rtega de 
 Lt of im- 
 ^ Moors 
 point of 
 from his 
 a num- 
 pon the 
 and the 
 ristians. 
 e street; 
 »f which 
 P should 
 ?ge, and 
 ers: he 
 ;re per- 
 rch out, 
 d it was 
 he mar- 
 ie were 
 aed. 
 
 ssion of 
 Y Aben 
 1-timed 
 The 
 nent of 
 thence- 
 Sahara. 
 il title, 
 
 under which he had so often signalized himself, that he gave 
 it the precedence, and always signed himself Marquis Duke 
 of Cadiz. As the reader may have acquired the same predi- 
 lection, we shall continue to call him by his ancient title. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 In this part of his chronicle, the worthy Fray Antonio 
 Agapida indulges in triumphant exultation over the down&ll 
 ofZahara. " Heaven sometimes speaks," says he, ''through 
 the mouths of false prophets, for the confusion of the wicked. 
 By the fall of the fortress was the prediction of the santon of 
 Granada in some measure fulfilled, that the ruins of Zahara 
 should fall upon the heads of the infidels." 
 
 Our zealous chronicler scofis at the Moorish alcayde, who 
 lost his fortress by surprise, in broad daylight ; and contrasts 
 the vigilance of the Christian governor of Alhama, the town 
 taken in retaliation for the storming of Zahara. 
 
 The importimt post of Alhama was, at this time, confided by 
 King Ferdinand, to Don Diego Lopez de Mendoza, Count of 
 Tendilla; a cavalier of noble blood, brother to the grand 
 cardinal of Spain. He had been instructed by the king, not 
 merely to maintain his post, but also to make sallies, and lay 
 Avaste the surrounding country. His fortress was critically 
 stationed. It was within seven leagues of Granada, and at no 
 great distance from the warlike city of Loxa. It was nestled 
 in the lap of the mountains, commanding the high road to 
 Malaga, and a view over the extensive vega. Thus situate, 
 in the heart of the enemy's country, surrounded by foes ready 
 to assail him, and a rich coimtry for him to ravage, it behoved 
 this cavalier to be for ever on the alert. He Teas, in fact, an 
 experienced veteran, a shrewd and wary officer, and a com- 
 mander amazingly prompt and fertile in expedients. 
 
 On assuming the command, he found that the garrison 
 consisted but of one thousand men, horse and foot. They 
 were hardy troops, seasoned in rough mountain campaigning; 
 but reckless and dissolute, as soldiers are apt to be, when 
 accustomed to predatory warfare. They woidd fight hard for 
 booty — and then gamble it heedlessly away, or squander it in 
 licentious revelling. Alhama abounded with hawking, sharp- 
 ing, idle hangers on, eager to profit by the vices and follies of 
 the garrison. The soldiers were ofteuer gambling and 
 
104 
 
 THE CONQUEST OP GRANADA. 
 
 dancing beneath tlic walls, than keeping watch upon the 
 battlements ; and nothins; was heard, from morning till night, 
 but the noisy contest of cards and dice, mingled with the 
 sound of the bolero or fandango, the drowsy strumming of 
 the guitar, and the rattling of the castanets ; while often the 
 whole was interrupted by the loud brawl, and fierce and 
 bloody contest. 
 
 The Count of Tcndilla sot himself vigorously to reform 
 these excesses. He knew that laxity of morals is generally 
 attended by neglect of duty; and that the least breach of 
 discipline, in the ex])oscd situation of his fortress, might be 
 fatal. " Here is but a handful of men," said he, " it is 
 necessary that each man should be a hero." 
 
 lie endeavoured to awaken a proper ambition in the minds 
 of his soldiers, and to instil into thera the high principles of 
 chivalry. " A just war," he observed, " is often rendered 
 wicked and disastrous by the manner in which it is con- 
 ducted : for the righteousness of the cause is not sufiicient to 
 sanction the profligacy of the means ; and the want of order 
 and subordination among the troops may bring ruin and dis- 
 grace upon the best concerted plans." But we cannot describe 
 the character and conduct of this renowned commander in 
 more forcible language than that of Fray Antonio Agapida, 
 excepting, that the pious father places, in the foreground of 
 his virtues, his hatred of the Moors. 
 
 "ITie Count de Tcndilla," says he, "was a mirror of 
 Christian knighthood : watchftU, abstemious, chaste, devout, 
 and thoroughly filled with the spirit of the cause. He 
 laboured incessantly and strenuously for the glory of the 
 faith, and the prosperity of their most Catholic majesties ; 
 and, above all, he hated the infidels with a pure and holy 
 hatred. This worthy cavalier discountenanced all idleness, 
 rioting, chambering, and wantonness, among his soldiers. Ho 
 kept them constantly to the exercise of arms, making them 
 adroit in the use of their weapons and management of their 
 steeds, and prompt for the field, at a moment's notice. He 
 permitted no sound of lute, or harp, or song, or other loose 
 minstrelsy, to be heard in his fortress ; debauching the ear 
 and softening the valour of the soldier : no other music was 
 allowed but the wholesome rolling of the drums and braying 
 of the trumpet, and such like spirit stirring instruments, as 
 fill the mind with thoughts of iron war. All wandering 
 
THE FOBTBESS OF ALHAMA. 
 
 10(^ 
 
 IS 
 
 minstrels, sharping^ pedlars, sturdy trulls, and other camp 
 trumpcrj', were ordered to pack up tlieir ba^age, and were 
 drummed out of the gates of Alhama. In place of such 
 rabble, he introduced a train of holy friars, to inspirit his 
 people by exhortation, and prayer, and choral chanting ; and 
 to spur them on to fight the good fight of faith. All games 
 of chance were prohibited, except the game of war ; and this 
 he laboured, by vigilance and vigour, to reduce to a game of 
 certainty. Heaven smiled upon the eflTorts of this righteous 
 cavalier. His men became soldiers at all points, and terrors 
 to the Moors. The good count never set forth on a ravage 
 without observing the rites of confession, absolution, and 
 communion, and obliging his followers to do the same. ITieir 
 banners were blessed by the holy friars whom he maintained 
 in Alhama ; and, in this way, success was secured to his 
 arms ; and he was enabled to lay waste the land of the 
 heathen. 
 
 "ITie fortress of Alhama," continues Fray Antonio Aga- 
 pida, " overlooked, from its lofty site, a great port of the 
 fertile vega, watered by the Cazin and the Xenil. From this 
 he made frequent sallies, sweeping away the flocks and herds 
 from the pasture, the labourer from the field, and the convoy 
 from the road ; so that it was said by the Moors, that a 
 beetle could not crawl across the vega without being seen by 
 Count Tendilla. The peasantry, therefore, were fain to betake 
 themselves to watch-towers and fortified hamlets, where they 
 shut up their cattle, garnered their com, and sheltered their 
 wives and children. Even there they were not safe: the 
 count would storm these rustic fortresses with fire and sword; 
 make captives of their inhabitants ; carry off the com, the 
 oil, the silks, and cattle ; and leave the ruins blazing and 
 smoking within the very sight of Granada. 
 
 " It was a pleasing and refreshing sight," continues the 
 good father, " to behold the pious knight and his followers 
 returning from one of these crusades, leaving the rich land of 
 the infidel in smoking desolation behind them. To behold 
 the long line of mules and asses, laden with the plunder 
 of the Gentiles, the hosts of captive Moors, men, women, and 
 childi'en ; droves of sturdy beeves, lowing kine, and bleating 
 sheep; all winding up the steep acclivity to the gates of 
 Alhama, pricked on by the Catholic soldiery. His garrison 
 thus thrived on the fat of the land and the spoil of the infidel : 
 
 i'il 
 
106 
 
 TU£ CONQUEST OF OBANADA. 
 
 nor was he unmindful of the pious fathers, whose blessings 
 crowned his enterprises with success ; a lai^e portion of the 
 spoil was always dedicated to the church, and the good friars 
 were ever ready at the gates to hail him on his return, and 
 receive the share allotted them. Besides these allotments, he 
 made many votive offerings, either in time of peril or on the 
 eve of a foray ; and the chapels of Alhama were resplendent 
 with chalices, crosses, and other precious gifts, made by this 
 Catholic cavalier." 
 
 Thus eloquently does the venerable Fray Antonio Agapida 
 dilate in praise of the good Count de Tendilla ; and other 
 historians, of equal veracity but less unction, agree in pro- 
 XM)imcing him one of the ablest of Spanish generals. So 
 teniblc, in fact, did he become in the land, that the Moorish 
 peasantry could not veutmre a league from Granada or Loxa, 
 to labour in the fields, without peril of being carried into 
 captivity. The people of Granada clamoured against Muley 
 Aben Ilassen for suffering his lands to be thus outraged and 
 insulted, and demanded to have this bold marauder shut up 
 in his fortress. The old monarch was roused by their remon- 
 strances. He sent forth power^l troops of horse to protect 
 the country during the season that the husbandmen were 
 abroad in the fields. These troops patrolled, in formidable 
 squadrons, in the neighbourhood of Alhama, keeping strict 
 watch upon its gates, so that it was impossible for the 
 Christians to make a sally, without being seen and inter- 
 rapted. 
 
 While Alhama was thus blockaded by a roving force of 
 Moorish cavalry, the inhabitants were awakened, one night, 
 by a tremendous crash that shook the fortress to its foimda- 
 tions. The garrison flew to arms, supposing it some assault 
 of the enemy. The alarm proved to have been caused by the 
 rupture of a portion of the wall, which, undermined by heavy 
 rams, had suddenly given way, leaving a large chasm yawn- 
 ing towards the plain. 
 
 The Count de Tendilla was for a time in great anxiety. 
 Should this breach be discovered by the blockading horse- 
 men, they would arouse the country. Granada and Loxa 
 would pour out an overwhelming force, and they would find 
 his walls ready sapped for an assault. In this fearful emer- 
 gency, the count displayed his noted talent for expedients. 
 He ordered a quantity of linen cloth to be stretched in front 
 
THE F0BTRE8S OF ALHAXA. 
 
 107 
 
 tings 
 the 
 
 of the breach painted in imitation of stone, and indented with 
 battlements, so as, at a distance, to resemble the other parts 
 of the walls. Behind this screen, he employed workmen, day 
 and night, in repairing the fracture. No one was permitted 
 to leave the fortress, lest information of its defenceless plight 
 should be carried to the Moors. Light sqiiadrons of the 
 enemy were seen hovering about the plain, but none approached 
 near enough to discover the deception ; and thus, in the course 
 of a few diays, the wall was rebuilt stronger than before. 
 
 There was another expedient of this shrewd veteran, which 
 greatly excites the marvel of Agapida. " It happened," he 
 observes, " that this catholic cavalier at one time was destitute 
 of gold and silver, wherewith to pay the wages of his troops ; 
 and the soldiers murmured greatly, seeing that they had not 
 the means of purchasing necessaries from the people of the 
 town. In this dilemma, what does this most sagacious com- 
 mander ? He takes him a number of little morsels of paper, 
 on which he inscribes various sums, large and small, accord- 
 ing to the nature of the case, and signs them with his own 
 hand and name, lliese did he give to the soldiery, in earnest 
 of their pay. How ! you will say, are soldiers to be paid with 
 scraps of paper ? Even so, I answer, and well paid too, as I 
 will presently make manifest : for the good count issued a 
 proclamation, ordering the inhabitants of Alhama to take 
 these morsels of paper for the full amoimt thereon inscribed, 
 promising to redeem them, at a future time, with silver and 
 gold, and threatening severe punishment to all who should 
 refuse. The people, having full confidence in his words, and 
 trusting, that he would be as willing to perform the one pro- 
 mise, as he certainly was able to perform the other, took these 
 curious morsels of paper without hesitation or demur. 
 
 *' Thus, by a subtle and most miraculous kind of alchymy, 
 did this catholic cavalier turn worthless paper into precious 
 gold, and make his late impoverished garrison abound in 
 money." 
 
 It is but just to add, that the Count de Tendilla redeemed 
 his promises like a loyal knight; and this miracle, as it 
 appeared in the eyes of Fray Antonio Agapida, is the first 
 instance on record of paper money, which has since inundated 
 the civilized world with unbounded opulence. 
 
 I 
 
tOft 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GEANADA. 
 
 CIIAPTim XXVII. 
 
 The Spanish cavaliers, who had survived the memorable 
 massacre among the mountains of Malaga, although they had 
 repeatedly avenged the death of their companions, yet could 
 not forget the hoiTor and humiliation of their defeat. Nothing 
 would satisfy them but to undertake a second expedition of 
 the kind, to carry fire jmd sword throughout a wide part of 
 the Moorish territories, and to leave all those regions which 
 had triumi)hcd in their disasters, a bl.ick and burning monu- 
 ment of their vengeance. Their wishes accorded with the 
 policy of the king, who desired to lay waste the country, and 
 destroy the resources, of the enemy ; every assistance was 
 therefore given, to promote and accomplish their enterprise. 
 
 In the spring of 1484, the ancient city of Anlequera again 
 resounded with anns. Numbers of the same cavaliers, who 
 liad assembled tliere so gaily the preceding year, again came 
 wheeling into the gates, with their steeled and shining war- 
 riors, but with a more dark and solemn brow than on that 
 disastrous occasion ; for tliey had the recollection of their 
 slaughtered friends present to their minds, whose deaths they 
 were to avenge. 
 
 In a little while there was a chosen force of six thousand 
 horse and twelve thousand foot assembled in Antequera, many 
 of them the verj' flower of Spanish chivalry, troops of the 
 established military and religious orders, and of the Holy 
 Brotherhood. 
 
 Every precaution had been taken to provide this army with 
 all things needful for its extensive and perilous inroad. Nu- 
 merous surgeons accompanied it, who were to attend ujwn all 
 the sick and wounded, without charge, being paid for their 
 services by the queen. Isabella also, in her considerate huma- 
 nity, provided six sj)acious tents, furnished with beds, and all 
 things requisite for the wounded and infirm. These con- 
 tinued to be used in all great expeditions throughout the war, 
 and were called the Queen's Hospital. The worthy father. 
 Fray Antonio Agapida, vaimts this benignant provision of 
 the queen, as the first introduction of a regular cam]) hospital 
 in campaigning ser^•iee. 
 
 Thus thoroughly prepared, the cavaliers issued forth from 
 Ante(|uera in sj)lendi(l and terrible array, but with less exult- 
 ing confidence and vaunting ostentation than on their I'ormer 
 foray : and this was the order of the army. 
 
 
 \ 
 
FORAY OF CHRISTIAN KNIGHTS, 
 
 109 
 
 Holy 
 
 Don Alonzo cle A^iilar led the advance fi^iavd, accompanied 
 by Don D'w^o Fernandez de Cordova, alcaydc de los Donzeles, 
 and Luis Fernandez Puerto Carre ro. Count of I'alma, with 
 their household troops. They were followed by Juan de 
 Merlo, Juan do Almara, and Carlos de Uiezman, of the Holy 
 Brotherhood, with the men-at-arms of their captaincies. 
 
 The second battalion was coinnumded by the Marquis of 
 Cadiz and the master of Sautiajjjo, with the cavaliers of San- 
 tiafjo, and the troops of the house of Ponce Leon : with these 
 also went the senior commander of Calatrava, and the knights 
 of that order, and various other cavaliers and their retainers. 
 
 The rif^ht winj; of this second battalion was led by Gonsalvo 
 de Cordova, afterwards renowned as ^rand captain of Spain : 
 the left wing, by Diego Lopez de Avila. They were accom- 
 panied by sevex'al cavaliers, and certiiin captains of the Holy 
 Brotherhood, with their men-at-arms. 
 
 The Duke of Medina Sidonia and the Count dc Cabra com- 
 manded the third battidion, with the troops of their respective 
 houses. They were accompanied by other conunanders of note, 
 with their forces. , 
 
 The rear-guard was brought up by the senior commander 
 and knights of Alcantara, followed by the Andalusian chivalry, 
 from Xerez, Ecija, and Carmona. 
 
 Such was the army that issued forth from the gates of Antc- 
 quera, on one of the most extensive tolas, or devastating in- 
 roads, that ever laid waste the kingdom of Granada. 
 
 The army entered the Moorish territoiy by the way of 
 Alora, destroying all the com fields, vineyards and orchards, 
 and plantations of olives, round that city. It then proceeded 
 through the rich valleys and fertile uplands of Coin, Cazara- 
 l)oncla, Almexia, and Cnrtama, and, in ten days, all those 
 fertile regions were a smoking and frightful desert. From 
 hence it pursued its slow and destructive coiirse, like the 
 stream of lava of a volcano, through the regions of Pu])iana and 
 Alhendin, and so on to the vega of Malaga, laying waste the 
 groves of olives and almonds, and the fields of grain, and des- 
 troying every green thing. The Moors of some of those 
 places interceded in vain for their groves and fields, offering 
 to deliver up their Christian captives. One part of the army 
 blockaded the towns, while the other ravaged the surrounding 
 country. Sometimes the Moors sallied forth dcsjH>mtcly to 
 defend their property, but were driven back to their gates 
 
 :#• ; VJI 
 
 f 
 
 5? .: I.. 
 
 I 
 
 li 
 
 
 
110 
 
 TH£ COlfQUEST 0¥ OIU.HAOJL. 
 
 with slaughter; and their suburbs pillaged and burnt. It 
 was an awful spectacle at night, to behold the volumes of 
 black smoke, mingled with lurid flames, that rose from the 
 burning suburbs, and the women on the walls of the town, 
 wringing their hands, and shrieking at the desolation of their 
 dwellings. 
 
 The destroying army, on airiving at the sea coast, found 
 vessels lying off shore, laden with all kinds of provisions and 
 mimitioas for its use, which had been sent from Seville and 
 Xcrez. It was thus enabled to continue its desolating career. 
 Advancing to the neighbourhood of Malaga, it was bravely 
 assailed by the Moors of that city, and there was severe skir- 
 mishing for a whole day ; but while the main part of the 
 army encountered the enemy, the rest ravaged the whole vega, 
 and destroyed all the mills. As the object of the expedition 
 was not to capture places, but merely to burn, ravage, and 
 destroy, the host, satisfied with the mischief they had done in 
 the vega, turned their backs upon Malaga, and again entered 
 the mountains. They passed by Coin, and through the 
 regions of AUagngna, and Gatero, and Alhamin ; all which 
 were likewise desolated. In this way did they make the cir- 
 cuit of that chain of rich and verdant valleys, the glory of 
 those mountains, and the pride and delight of the Moors. 
 For forty days did they continue on, like a consuming fire, 
 leaving a smoking and howhng waste to mark their course, 
 until, weary with the work of destruction, and having fully 
 sated their revenge for the massacre of the Axarquia, they 
 retunu'd in triumph to the meadows of Antequera. 
 
 In the month of June, King PVrdinand took command in 
 person of this destructive army. He increased its force ; and 
 he added to its means of mischief several lombards, and other 
 heavy artillery, intended for the battering of towns, and 
 managed by engineers from France and Germany. With 
 these, the Marquis of Ca<liz assured the king, he would soon 
 be able to reduce the Moorish fortresses. They were only 
 calculated for defence against the engines anciently used in 
 warfare. Their walls and towers were high and thin, de- 
 pending on their rough and rocky situations. The stone and 
 iron balls, thundered from the lombards, would soon tumble 
 them in ruins upon the heads of their defenders. 
 
 The fate of Alora speedily proved the truth of this opinion. 
 It was strongly posted on a rock, washed by a river. The 
 
 
FORAT OF CHRI8TIAH KKIOHTS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 artillery soon battered down two of the towers, and a part of 
 the wall. The Moors were thrown into consternation at the 
 vehemence of the assault, and the effect of those tremendous 
 engines upon their vaunted bulwarks. The roaring of the 
 artillery, and the timibling of the walls, terrified the women ; 
 who beset the alcaydc with vociferous supplications to sur- 
 render. ITie place was given up on the 20th of June, on 
 condition that the inhabitants might depart with their effects. 
 The people of Malaga, as yet unacquainted with the power of 
 this battering ordnance, were so incensed at those of Alora, 
 for what they considered a tame surrender, that they would 
 not admit them into their city. 
 
 A similar fate attended the town of Setenil, built on a lofty 
 rock, and esteemed impregnable. Many times had it been 
 besieged, under former Christian kings, but never had it been 
 taken. Even now, for several days, the artillery was directed 
 against it without effect ; and many of the cavaliers murmured 
 at the Marquis of Cadiz, for having counselled the king to 
 attack this unconquerable place.* 
 
 On the same night that these reproaches were uttered, the 
 marquis directed the artillery himself. He levelled the lom- 
 bards at the bottom of the walls, and at the gates. In a little 
 while, the gates were battered to pieces ; a great breach was 
 effected in the walls ; and the Moors were fain to capitulate. 
 Twenty-four Christian captives, who had been taken in the 
 defeat of the mountains of Malnga, were rescued from the 
 dungeons of this fortress, and hailed the Marquis of Cadiz as 
 their deliverer. 
 
 Needless is it to mention the capture of various other places, 
 which surrendered without waiting to be attacked. The 
 Moors had always shown great liiivery and perseverance in 
 defending their towns ; they were formidable in their sallies 
 and skirmishes, and patient in enduring hunger and thirst 
 when besieged: but this terrible ordnance, which demolished 
 their walls with such ease and rapidity, overwhelmed them 
 with confusion and dismay, and rendered vain all resistance. 
 King Ferdinand was so struck with the effect of this artillery, 
 that he ordered the number of lombards to be increased ; and 
 these potent engines had henceforth a great influence on the 
 fortunes of the war. 
 
 The last operation of this year, so disastrous to the Moon, 
 * Cura do loa Palacios. 
 
 v»'*i 
 
 
 
112 
 
 THE CONQUEST OP GRANADA. 
 
 was an inroad by King Ferdinand, in the latter part of sum- 
 mer, into the vega ; in which he ravaged the country, burned 
 two villages near to Granada, and desti'oycd the mills close to 
 the very gates of the city. 
 
 Old Mulcy Aben Hassan was overwhelmed with dismay at 
 this desolation ; which, during the whole year, had been 
 raging throughout his territories, and had now reached to 
 the walls of his capital. His fierce spirit was broken by mis- 
 fortunes and infirmity : he offered to purchase a peace, and to 
 hold his crown as a tributary vassal. Ferdinand would listen 
 to no propositions ; tlie absolute conquest of Granada was the 
 great object of the war ; and he was resolved never to rest 
 content without its complete fulfilment. Having supplied 
 and strengthened the garrisons of the places he had taken in 
 the heart of the Moorish territories, he enjoined their com- 
 manders to render cveiy assistance to the younger Moorish 
 king, in the civil war against his father. He then retiu-ncd 
 with his army to Cordova, in great triumph ; closing a series 
 of ravaging campaigns, that had filled the kingdom of Granada 
 with grief and consternation. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVni. 
 
 During this year of sorrow and disaster to the Moors, the 
 younger king Boabdil, most truly culled the imfortunatc, held 
 a diminished and feeble court in the maritime city of Almeria. 
 He retained little more than the name of king ; and was 
 supported, in even the shadow of royalty, by the countennnce 
 and treasures of the Castilian sovereigns. Still he trusted 
 that, in the fluctuation of events, the inconstant nation might 
 once more return to his standard, and replace him on the 
 throne of the Alhnmbra. 
 
 His mother, the high spirited sultana Ayxa la Horra, 
 endeavoured to rouse him from this passive state. " It is a 
 feeble mind," said she, " that waits for the turn of fortune's 
 wheel ; the brave mind seizes upon it, and turns it to its 
 purjiose. Take the field, and you may drive danger before 
 you : remain cowering at home, and it besieges you in your 
 dwelling. By a bold enterprise, you may regain your splendid 
 throne in Granada ! by passive forbearance, you will forfeit 
 even this miserable throne in Almeria.' 
 
 Boabdil hod not the force of soul to follow these coiu-ngcous 
 
 pu| 
 
 he I 
 
 la 
 
 br{ 
 
 atti 
 
 is 
 
 tral 
 
 sul 
 
f sum- 
 burned 
 close to 
 
 imay at 
 d been 
 jhed to 
 by mis- 
 j, and to 
 Id listen 
 was the 
 to rest 
 supplied 
 taken in 
 ;ir coin- 
 Moorish 
 returned 
 ; a series 
 Granada 
 
 [oors, the 
 late, held 
 Almeria. 
 and was 
 intenance 
 le trusted 
 ion might 
 m on the 
 
 a Horra, 
 
 " It is a 
 
 f fortune's 
 
 it to its 
 
 per before 
 
 »u in your 
 
 ir splendid 
 
 ill forfeit 
 
 !ouragcou8 
 
 ATTEMPT OF EL ZAGAL TO SURPRISE BOABDIL. 113 
 
 counsels ; and, in a little time, the evils his mother had pre- 
 dicted fell upon him. 
 
 Old Muley Abcn Hassan was almost extinguished by a<;o 
 and infirmity. He had nearly lost his sight, and was com- 
 pletely bcd-riddcu. His brother, Abdalla, surnamed I'U 
 Zagal, or "the valiant,' the same who had assisted in the 
 massacre of the Spanish chivalry among the mountiiins of 
 Malaga, was commander in chief of the Moorish armies ; and 
 gradually took upon himself most of the cares of sovereignty. 
 Among other things, he was particularly zealous in es])ousing 
 his brothers quaircl with his son ; and he prosecuted it with 
 "uch vehemence, that many affirmed there was something 
 more than fraternal sympathy at the bottom of his zeal. 
 
 The disasters and disgraces inflicted on the country by the 
 Christians, during this year, had wounded the national feel- 
 ings of the people of Almeria ; and many had felt indignant, 
 that Itoabdil should rewiain passive at such a time ; or rather, 
 should appear to make a common cause with the enemy. His 
 uncle Abdalla diligently fomented this feeling by his agents. 
 The same arts were made use of that had been successful in 
 Granada. Boabdil was secretly, but actively, denounced by 
 the alfaquis as an apostate, leagued with the Christians 
 against his country and his early faith. The alFectious of the 
 populace and soldiery were gradually alienated from him, and 
 a deep conspiracy concerted for his destruction. In tlie 
 month of February, 1485, El Zagal suddenly appeared before 
 Almeria, at the head of a troop of horse. The alfaquis were 
 prepared for his arrival, and the gates were thro^vn open to 
 him. He entered, with his band, and galloped to the citadel. 
 The alcayde would have made resistance ; but the garrison 
 put him to death, and received El Zagal with acclamations, 
 i'il Zagal rushed through the apartments of the alcazar, but 
 he sought in vain for Uoabdil. He found the siUtanaAyxa 
 la Horra in one of the saloons, with Ben Ahagete, a younger 
 brother of the monarch, a valiant Abcncerrage, and several 
 attendants, who rallied round them to protect them. " Where 
 is the traitor Boabdil?" exclaimed El Zagal. "I know no 
 traitor more perfidious than thyself," exclaimed the intrepid 
 sultana : " and I trust my son is in safety, to take vengeance 
 on thy treason." The rage of El Zagal was without bounds, 
 when he learned that his intended victim had escaped. In 
 his fury he slew the prince, Ben Ahagete ; and his followcrH 
 
 ' Wl'l 
 
 111 
 
114 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GKANADA. 
 
 fell upon and massacred the Abencerrage and attendants. As 
 to the proud sultana, she was borne away prisoner, and loaded 
 with revilings ; as having upheld her son in his rebellion, and 
 fomented a civil war. 
 
 'ilie tinfortunatc Boabdil had been apprized of his danger 
 by a faithful soldier, just in tin.e to make his escape. Tlirow- 
 ing himself on one of the fleetest horses of his stables, and 
 followed by a handful of adherents, he had galloped, in the 
 confusion, out of the gates of Almeria. Several of the cavalry 
 of El Zagal, who were stationed without the walls, perceived 
 his flight, and attempted to pursue him. Their horses were 
 jaded with travel, and he soon left them far behind. But 
 whither was he to fly? Eveiy fortress and castle in the 
 kingdom was closed against him. lie knew not whom 
 among the Moors to trust ; for they had been taught to detest 
 him, as a traitor and an apostate. He had no alternative 
 but to seek refuge among the Christians, his hereditarj' 
 enemies. With a heavy heart, he turned his horse's head 
 towards Cordova. He had to lurk, like a fugitive, through a 
 part of his own dominions ; nor did he feel himself secure 
 imtil he had passed the frontier, and beheld the moimtain 
 barrier of his country towering behind him. Then it was 
 that ho became conscious of his humiliating state ; a fugitive 
 from his tlironc ; an outcast from his nation ; a king without 
 a kingdom. He smote his breast in an agony of grief. " Evil 
 indeed," exclaimed he, " was the day of my birth ; and truly 
 was I named El Zogoybi, the unlucky !" 
 
 He entered the gates of Cordova with downcast counten- 
 ance, and with a train of only forty followers. The sovereigns 
 were absent ; but the cavaliers of Andalusia manifested that 
 sympathy in the misfortunes of the monarch, that becomes 
 men of lofty and chivalrous souls. They received him with 
 great distinction, attended him with the utmost courtesy ; 
 and he was honourably entertained by the civil and militmy 
 commanders of that ancient city. 
 
 In the meantime. El Zagal put a new alcayde over 
 Almeria, to govern in the name of li . brother ; a:ad, having 
 strongly garrisoned the place, he repaired to Malaga, where 
 an attack of the Christians was apprehended. The young 
 monarch being driven out of the land, and the old monarch 
 blind and bed-ridden. El Zagal, at the head of the armies, 
 was virtually the sovereign of Granada. The ix?ople were 
 
SIEGE OF COIN AND CABTAMA. 
 
 115 
 
 pleased with having a new idol to look up to, and a new name 
 to shout forth ; and El Zagal was hailed with acclamations, 
 as the main hope of the nation. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 The great effect of the battering ordnance, in demolishing 
 the Moorish fortresses, in the preceding year, induced King 
 Ferdinand to procure a powerful train for the campaign of 
 1485 ; in the course of which he resolved to assault some of 
 the most formidable holds of the enemy. An army of nine 
 thousand cavalry and twenty thousand infantry assembled at 
 Cordova early in the spring ; and the king took the field on 
 the 5th of April. It had been determined in secret council, 
 to attack the city of Malaga, that ancient and important 
 seaport, on which Granada depended for foreign aid and 
 supplies. It was thought proper previously, however, to get 
 possession of various towns and fortresses in the valleys of 
 Santa Maria and Cartaraa, through which pass the roads to 
 Malaga. 
 
 The first place assailed was the town of Benamaquex. It 
 had submitted to the Catholic sovereigns in the preceding 
 year, but had since renounced its allegiance. King Ferdinand 
 was enraged at the rebellion of the inhabitants. " I will 
 make their punishment," said he, " a teiTor to others ; they 
 shall be loyal through force, if not tlirough faith." The 
 place was carried by storm ; one hundred and eight of the 
 principal inhabitants were either put to the sword or hanged 
 on the battlements. The rest were carried into captivity.* 
 
 The towns of Coin and Cartama were besieged on the same 
 day ; the first by a division of the army led on by the Marquis 
 of Cadiz ; the second by another division, commanded by 
 Don Alonzo de Aguilar, and Luis Fernandez Puerto Carrero, 
 the brave senior of Palma. The king, with the rest of the 
 army, remained posted between the two places, to render 
 assistance to either division. The battcnes opened upon 
 both places at the same time; and the thunder of the 
 lombards was mutually heard from one camp to the other. 
 The Moors made frequent sallies, and a valiant defence ; but 
 they were confoimded by the tremendous uproar of the 
 batteries, and the destruction of their walls. In the mean- 
 * Polgar. Qaribay. C ra de los Palacioa. 
 
 I 2 
 
 I 
 
 tl 
 
 Hi 
 
 «a 
 
 
116 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF CR.VXADA. 
 
 time, the alarm fires gathered together the Moorish moun- 
 taineers of the Serrania, who assembk^d in great numbers in 
 the city of Monda, about a league from Coin. 
 
 They made R(>veral attempts to enter the besieged town, 
 but in vain ; they were each time intercepted and driven 
 back by tlic Christians, and were reduced to gaze at a 
 distance, in despair, on the destruction of the place. While 
 thus situated, there rode one day into Monda a fierce and 
 haughty Moorish chieftain, at the head of a band of swarthy 
 African horsemen : it was Hamet el Zegri, the fiery spirited 
 alcayde of Konda, at the head of his band of Gomeres. 
 He had not yet recovered from the rage and mortification of 
 his defeat on the banks of the Lopera, in the disastrous foray 
 of Old liexir. when he had been obliged to steal back to his 
 mountains, with the loss of his bravest followers. He had 
 ever since panted for revenge. He now rode among the host 
 of Avarriors assembled at Monda. " Who among you," cried 
 he, " feels pity for the women and children of Coin, exposed 
 to captivity and death ? Whoever he is, let him follow me» 
 who am ready to die as a Moslem for the relief of Moslems !" 
 So saying, he seized a white banner, and, waving it over hia 
 head, rode forth from the town, followed by the Gomeres. 
 Many of the warriors, roused by his words and his example, 
 spurred resolutely after his banner. The people of Coin, 
 being prepared for this attempt, sallied forth as they saw the 
 while banner, and made an attack upon the Christian camp ; 
 and, in the confusion of the moment, Hamet and his followers 
 galloi)ed into the gates. This reinforcement animated the 
 besieged, and Hamet exhorted them to hold out obstinately 
 in delenee of life and the town. As the Gomeres were 
 veteran warriors, the more they were attacked, the harder 
 they fought. 
 
 At length, a great breach was made in the walls ; and 
 Ferdinand, who was impatient of the resistance of the place, 
 ordered the Duke of Naxera and the Count of Benavente to 
 enter with their troops ; and, as their forces were not sufficient, 
 he sent word to Luis de Cerda, Duke of Medina Celi, to send 
 a part of his people to their assistance. 
 
 The feudal pride of the duke was roused at this demand. 
 " Tell my lord the king." said the haughty grandee, " that I 
 have come to succour him with my household troops. If my 
 people ore ordered to any place, I am to go with them ; but, if 
 
STORMING OF COIN. 
 
 117 
 
 I am to remain in the camp, they must remain v/ith me : for 
 troops cannot serve without their commander, nor their com- 
 mander without his troops.' 
 
 The reply of the high-spirited grandee perplexed the cautious 
 Ferdinand, who knew the jealous pride of his powerful nobles. 
 Jn the meantime, the people of the camp, having made all 
 preparations for the assault, were impatient to be led forward. 
 Upon this Pero Uuyz de Alarcon put himself at their head, 
 and, seizing their mantas, or portable bulwarks, and their 
 other defences, they made a gallant assault, and fought their 
 way in at the breach. The Moors were so overcome by the 
 fury of their assault, that they retreated fighting to the scjuare 
 of the town. Pero Ruyz de Alarcon thought the place was 
 caiTied, when suddenly Hamet and his Gomeres came scouring 
 through the streets, with wild war cries, and fell furiously 
 upon the Christians. The latter were, in their turn, beaten 
 back; and, while attacked in front by the Gomeres, were 
 assailed by the inhabitants with all kinds of missiles, from 
 their roofs and windows. They at length gave way, and re- 
 treated through the breach. Pero Ruyz de Alarcon still main- 
 tained his ground in one of the principal streets. The few 
 cavaliers that stood by him urged him to fly! " No," said he, 
 *' I came here to fight, and not to fly!" lie was presently 
 surrounded by the Gomeres. His companions fled for their 
 lives. Before they fled, they saw him covered with wounds, 
 but still fighting desperately for the fame of a good cavalier.* 
 
 The resistance of the inhabitants, though aided by the 
 valour of the Gomeres, was of no avail. The battering ar- 
 tillery of the Christians demolished their walls ; combustibles 
 were thrown into their town, which set it on fire in various 
 places, and they were at length compelled to capitulate. 
 They were permitted to depart with their effects, and the 
 Gomeres with their arms. Hamet el Zegri and his African 
 band sallied forth, and rode proudly through the Christian 
 camp ; nor could the Spanish cavaliers refrain from regarding 
 with admiration that haughty warrior, and his devoted and 
 dauntless adherents. 
 
 The capture of Coin wan accompanied by that of Cartama. 
 
 The fortifications of the latter were repaired and garrisoned ; 
 
 but Coin being too extensive to be defended by a moderate 
 
 force, its walls were demolished. The siege of these placcb 
 
 ♦ Fulgar, part iii. cap. 42. 
 
 m 
 
 •I sil 
 
 I 
 
 4) 
 
 ! c « 
 

 118 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBANADA, 
 
 struck such terror into the surrounding country, that the 
 Moors of many of the neighbouring towns abandoned their 
 homes, and fled, with such of their etfects as they could carry 
 away ; upon which the king gave orders to demoUsh their 
 walls and towers. 
 
 King Ferdinand now left his camp and his heavy artillery 
 near Cartama, and proceeded with his lighter troops to recon- 
 noitre Malaga. By this time the secret plan of attack, ar- 
 ranged in the council of war at Cordova, was known to all the 
 world. The vigilant warrior. El Zagal, had thrown himself 
 into the place. He had put all the fortitiications, which were 
 of vast strength, into a state of defence, and had sent orders 
 to the alcaydes of the mountain towns to hasten with their 
 forces to his assistance. 
 
 ITie very day that Ferdinand appeared before the place. El 
 Zagal sallied forth to receive him, at the head of a thousand 
 cavalry, the choicest warriors of Granada. A hot skirmish 
 took place among the gardens and olive trees near the city. 
 Many were killed on both sides, and this gave the Christians 
 a sharp foretaste of what the v might expect, if they attempted 
 to besiege the place. 
 
 When the skirmish was over, the Marquis of Cadiz had a 
 private conference with the king. He represented the diffi- 
 culty of besieging Malaga with their present force, especially 
 as their plans had been discovered and anticipated, and the 
 whole country was marching over the mountains to oppose 
 them. The marquis, who had secret intelligence from all 
 quarters, had received a letter from Juceph Xerife, a Moor of 
 Ronda, of Christian lineage, apprizing him of the situation of 
 that important place and its garrison, which at that moment 
 laid it open to attack ; and the marquis was urgent with the 
 king to seize upon this critical moment, and secm^ a place, 
 which was one of the most powerful Moorish fortresses on the 
 frontiers, and, in the hands of Hamet el Zegri, had been the 
 scourge of Andalusia. The good marquis had another motive 
 for his advice, becoming a true and loyal knight. In the 
 deep dungeons of Ronda languished several of his companions 
 in arms, who had been captured in the defeat in the Axarquia. 
 To break their chains, and restore them to liberty and light, 
 he felt to be his peculiar duty, as one of those who had most 
 promoted that disastrous enterprise. 
 
 King Ferdinand listened to the advice of the marquis. He 
 
SIEGE OF BONDA. 
 
 IIU 
 
 ] 
 
 knew the importance of Ronda, which was considered one of 
 the keys of the kingdom of Granada ; and he was disposed to 
 punish the inhabitants, for the aid they had rendered to the 
 garrison at Coin. ITie siege of Malaga, therefore, was aban- 
 doned for the present, and preparations made for a rapid and 
 secret move against the city of Honda. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 The bold Ilamet el Zegri, the aleayde of Ronda, had re- 
 turned sullenly to his strong-hold after the surrender of Coin. 
 He had fleshed his sword in battle with the Christians ; but 
 his thirst for vengeance was still unsatisfied. Hamet gloried 
 in the strength of his fortress and the valour of his people. A 
 fierce and warlike populace was at his command ; his signal 
 fires would summon all the wairiors of the Serrania; his 
 Gomeres almost subsisted on the spoils of Andalusia ; and in 
 the rock on which his fortress was built were hopeless dungeons, 
 filled with Christian captives, who had been carried off by 
 these war hawks of the mountains. 
 
 Ronda was considered as impregnable. It was situate in 
 the heart of the wild and rugged mountains, and perched upon 
 an isolated rock, crested by a strong citadel, with triple walls 
 and towers. A deep ravine, or rather a perpendicular chasm 
 of rocks, of frightful depth, surrounded three parts of the city j 
 through this flowed the Rio Verde, or Green River. There 
 were two suburbs to the city, fortified by walls and towers, 
 and almost inaccessible, from the natural asperity of the rocks. 
 Around this rugged city were deep rich valleys, sheltered by 
 thejnountains, refreshed by constant streams, abounding with 
 grain, and the most delicious fruits, and yielding verdant 
 meadows ; in which was reared a renowned breed of horses, 
 the best in the whole kingdom for a foray. 
 
 Hamet el Zegri had scarcely returned to Ronda, when he 
 received intelligence, that the Christian army was marching to 
 the siege of Malaga, and orders from El Zagal to send troops 
 to his assistance. Hamet sent a part of his garrison for that 
 purpose. In the meantime, he meditated an expedition to 
 which he was stimulated by pride and revenge. All Andalusia 
 was now drained of its troops: there was an opportunity, 
 therefore, for an inroad, by which he might wipe out the dis- 
 grace of his defeat at the battle of Lopera. Apprehending no 
 
 nil 
 
 ,-^:"n 
 
 ' 
 
 Tt'j 
 
 ?f;-- 
 
120 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GKAXADA. 
 
 danger to his mountain city, 'now tliat the storm of war had 
 passed down into the vej^a of Malajj;a, he left but a remnant of 
 his garrison to man its walls ; and, putting himself at the head 
 of his band of Gomeres, swept down suddenly into the plains 
 of Andalusia. He careered, almost without resistance, over 
 those vast cam])irias, or pasture lands, which form a part of 
 the domains of the Duke of Medina Sidonia. In vain the 
 bells were rung, and the alarm fires kindled ; the band of 
 llamet liad passed by before any force could be assembled ; 
 and was only to be traced, like a hxuricane, by the devastation 
 it had made. 
 
 Ilamet regained in safety the Serrania do Honda, exulting 
 in liis successful inroad. The mountain glens were filled with 
 long droves of cattle, and flocks of sheep, from the campiuas 
 of 5ledina Sidonia. There were mules, too, laden with the 
 plunder of the villages ; and every warrior had some costly 
 spoil of jewels for his favourite mistress. 
 
 As El Zegri drew near to Ronda, he was roused from his 
 dream of triumph by the sound of heavy ordnance, bellowing 
 through the mountain defiles. His heart misgave him: he 
 put spurs to his horse, and galloped in advance of his lagging 
 cavalgada. As he proceeded, the noise of the ordnance in- 
 creased, echoing from cliff to cliff. Sjjurring his horse up a 
 cmggy height, which commanded an extensive view, he beheld, 
 to his consternation, the country about Konda white with the 
 tents of a besieging army. The royal standard, displayed 
 before a proud encampment, showed that Ferdinand himself 
 was present ; while the incessant blaze and thunder of artillery, 
 and the voliunes of overhanging smoke, told the work of 
 destruction that was going on. 
 
 The royal army had succeeded in coming upon Ronda by 
 surprise, during the absence of its alcayde, and most of its gar- 
 rison ; but its inhabitants were warlike, and defended them- 
 selves bravely, trusting that Hamet and liis Gomeres would 
 soon return to their assistance. 
 
 The fancied strength of their bulwarks had been of little 
 avail against the batteries of the besiegers. In the space of 
 four days, three towers, and great masses of the walls which 
 defended the suburbs, were battered down, and the suburbs 
 token and plundered. Lombards and other heavy ordnance 
 were now levelled at the walls of the city, and stones and 
 missiles of all kinds hurled into the streets. The very rock on 
 
SIEGi: OF KONDA. 
 
 121 
 
 his 
 
 ¥ aich the city stood shook with the thunder of the artillerj* ; 
 und the Christian captives, deep within its dungeons, hailed 
 the sound as the promise of deliverance. 
 
 When Ilaniet el Zegii heheld his city thus surrounded and 
 assailed, he called upon his men to follow him, and make a 
 desperate attempt to cut their way through to its relief. 
 They pi'oceeded stealthily through the mountains, until they 
 came to the nearest heights above the Christian camp. When 
 night fell, and part of the army was sunk in sleep, they 
 descended the I'ocks, and rushing suddenly upon the weakest 
 part of the camp, endea'^oured to break their way through, 
 and gain the city. The camp was too strong to be forced ; 
 they were driven back to the crags of the mountains, whence 
 they defended themselves by showering down darts, and 
 stones upon their pursuers. 
 
 Hamet now lighted alarm fires about the heights ; his stan- 
 dard was joined by the neighbouring mountaineers, and by 
 troops from Malaga. Thus reinforced, he made repeated 
 assaults upon the Christians, cutting off all stragglers from 
 the camp. All his attempts, however, to force his way into 
 the city were fruitless. Many of his bravest men were slain, 
 and he was obliged to retreat into the fastuesses of the 
 mountains. 
 
 In the meanwhile, the distress of Ronda was hourly in- 
 creasing. The Marquis of Cadiz, having possession of the 
 suburbs, was enabled to approach to the very foot of the per- 
 pendicular precipice, rising from the river, on the summit of 
 which the city is built. At the foot of this rock is a living 
 fountain of limpid water, gushing into a gi'eat natural basin. 
 A secret mine led down from within the city to this fountain, 
 by several himdied steps, cut in the solid rock. From this 
 the city obtained its chief supply of water ; and the steps 
 wei'e deeply worn by the weary feet of Christian captives em- 
 ployed in the painful labour. The Marquis of Cadiz dis- 
 covered this subterranean passage, and directed his pioneers 
 to countermine it through the solid body of the rock. They 
 pierced to the shaft ; and, stopping it up, deprived the city of 
 the benefit of this precious fountain. 
 
 While the brave Marquis of Cadiz was thus pressing the 
 siege with zeal, and glowing with the generous thoughts of 
 soon delivering his companions in arms from the Moorish dim- 
 geons, far other were the feelings of the alcayde, Hamet el Zegri* 
 
 i 
 1 
 
 I 
 
 ..... , ^T^ 
 
 r&- 
 
 mi 
 
 ^rl 
 
 :m 
 
 1 
 
122 
 
 THE COXQUEST OF GHANADA. 
 
 He smote his breast, and gnashed his teeth, in impotent fury, 
 as he beheld, from the mountain cliffs, the destruction of the 
 city. Every thunder of the Christian ordnance seemed to 
 batter against his heart. He saw tower after tower tumbling 
 by day, and at night the city blazed like a volcano. " They 
 fired not merely stones from their ordnance," says a chroni- 
 cler of the times, " but likewise great balls of iron, cast in 
 moulds, which demolished every thing they struck." They 
 threw also balls of tow, steeped in pitch and oil and gun- 
 powder, which, when once on fire, were not to be extin- 
 guished, and which set the houses in flames. 
 
 Great was the horror of the inhabitants. They knew not 
 where to flee for refuge : their houses were in a blaze, or 
 shattered by the ordnance. The streets were perilous, from 
 the falling ruins and the bounding balls, which dashed to 
 
 f)ieces everything they encountered. At night the city 
 ooked like a fiery furnace : the cries and wailings of the 
 women were heard between the thunders of the ordnance, 
 and reached even to the Moors on the opposite mountains, 
 who answered them by yells of fury and despair. 
 
 All hope of external succour being at an end, the inhabi- 
 tants of Honda were compelled to capitulate. Ferdinand was 
 easily prevailed upon to grant them favourable terms, llie 
 place was capable of longer resistance ; and he feared for the 
 safety of his camp, as the forces were daily augmenting on 
 the mountains, and making frequent assaults. The inha- 
 bitants were permitted to depart with theii effects, either to 
 Barbary or elsewhere ; and those who chose to reside in Spain 
 had lands assigned them, and were indulged in the exercise of 
 their religion. 
 
 No sooner did the place t'urender, than detachments were 
 sent to attack the Moors, who hovered about the neighbour- 
 ing mountains. Hamet el Zegri, however, did not remain, to 
 try a fruitless battle. He gave up the game as lott, and 
 retreated with his Gomeres, filled with grief and rage, but 
 trusting to fortune to give him future vengeance. 
 
 The firat care of the good Mar(}ui8 of Cadiz, on entering 
 Honda, was to deliver his unfortimate companions in arms 
 from the dungeons of the fortress. What a diflercnco in their 
 looks, from the time, when, flushe<l with health and hope, and 
 arrayed in military pomp, they had sallied forth upon the 
 motmtain foray. Many of theni were almost naked, with 
 
 . 
 
 I 
 
t fury, 
 of the 
 led to 
 nbling 
 They 
 hroni- 
 cast in 
 They 
 gun- 
 cxtin- 
 
 8IEOE OF BONDA. 
 
 123 
 
 irons at their ankles, and beards reaching to their waists. 
 Their meeting with the marquis was joyful, yet it had the 
 look of grief; for their joy was mingled with many bitter 
 recollections. There was an immense number of other cap- 
 tives, among whom were several young men of noble families, 
 who, with filial piety, had surrendered themselves prisoners 
 in place of their fathers. 
 
 The captives were all provided with mules, and sent to the 
 queen at Cordova. The humane heart of Isabella melted at 
 the sight of the piteous cavalcade. They were all supplied 
 by her with food and raiment, and money to pay their 
 expenses to their homes. Their chains were hung as pious 
 trophies against the exterior of the church of St. Juan de los 
 Reyes in Toledo, where the Ohristian traveller may regale his 
 eyes with the sight of them at this very day. 
 
 Among the Moorish captives was a young infidel maiden of 
 great beauty, who desired to become a Christian, and to 
 remain in Spain. She had been inspired with the light of tho 
 true faith, through the ministry of a young man, who had 
 been a captive in Ronda. lie was anxious to complete his 
 good work by mairying her. The queen consented to their 
 pious wishes, having first taken care, that the young maiden 
 should be properly purified by the holy sacrament of baptism. 
 
 " Thus this pestilent nest of warfare and infidelity, the city 
 of Ronda," eaya the worthy Fray Antonio Agapida, " was 
 converted to the true faith by the thunder of our artillery. 
 An example which was soon followed by Casanbonelns, Alar- 
 bella, and other towns in these parts ; insomuch that, in the 
 course of this expedition, no less than seventy-two places 
 were rescued from the vile sect of Mahomet, and placed under 
 the benignant domination of the cross." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. . 
 
 The people of Granada were a versatile, unsteady race, 
 and exceedingly given to make and immake kings. They 
 had, for a long time, vacillated between old M\ilcy Abcn 
 Hasseu and his son, Boabdil el Chico ; sometimes setting up 
 the one, sometimes tho other, and sometimes both at <mce, 
 according to the pinch and pressure of external evils. They 
 found, however, that the evils still went on increasing, in 
 defiance of every change; and were at their wits' end to 
 
 
 
 I i. 
 
 m 
 
 f 'I 
 
124 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBANADA. 
 
 t 
 
 li 
 
 devise some new combination or airanf^oment, by which an 
 efficient government mijj;ht be wrouj^lit out of two bad kings. 
 
 When the tidings amvcd of the fall of Honda, and the con- 
 sequent ruin of the frontier, a tumultuous assemblage took 
 place in one of the public squares. As usual, the peojdc 
 attributed the misfortunes of the country exclusively to the 
 faults of tlieir rulers : for the populace never imagine, that 
 any part of their miseries can originate with themselves. A 
 crafty alfacpii, named Alyme Mazer, who had watched the 
 current of tlieir discontents, rose, and harangued them. 
 
 "You have been choosing and changing," said he, "be- 
 tween two monarchs ; and who and what are they. Muley 
 Aben Ilassiiu for one; a man worn out by age and infirmi- 
 ties : unable to sally forth against the Ibe, even when ravaging 
 to the very gates of the city : and Boabdil el Chico for the 
 other ; an apostate, a traitor, a deserter from his throne, a 
 fugitive among the enemies of his nation : a man fated to mis- 
 fortune, and proverbially named ' the unlucky.' 
 
 " In a time of overwhelming war, like the present, he only 
 is fit to sway a sceptre, who can wield a sword. Would you 
 seek such a man ? You need not look far. Allah has sent 
 such a one, in this time of distress, to retrieve the fortunes of 
 Granada. You already know whom I mean. You know it 
 can be no other than your general, the invincible Abdalla ; 
 whose surname of El Zagal has become a watchword in 
 battle, rousing the courage of the faithful, and striking terror 
 into the unbelievers." 
 
 The midtitudc received the words of the alfaqui with accla- 
 mations ; they were delighted with the idea of a third king 
 over Uranada; and Abdalla el Zagal, being of the royal 
 family, and already in the virtiud exercise of royal power, tho 
 measure had nothing in it that ai)i)eared either rash or violent. 
 A deputation was therefore sent to 1^1 Zagal at Malaga, 
 inviting him to repair to (iranada, to receive the crown. 
 
 El Zagal expressed great surprise and repugnance, when 
 tho mission was announced to him ; and nothing but his 
 patriotic zeal for the ])ublic safety, and his fratenml eagerness 
 to relieve tho aged Aben Hassan from the cares of govern- 
 mcut, prevailed upon him to accept the offer of the crown. 
 Leaving, therefore, Uodovan de Vanegas, one of tlie bravest 
 Moorish generals, in conmiand of Malaga, he departed for 
 Cirauuda, attended by tluee hund od trusty cavaliers. 
 
EL ZAGAL IXVITED TO THE TIIROXE. 
 
 125 
 
 f 
 
 Old Mulcy Aben Hassen did not wait for the arrival of his 
 brother. Unable any lonj^or to butfet with the storms of tho 
 times, his only solicitude was to seek some safe and quiet har- 
 bour of repose. In one of the deep valleys which indent tho 
 Mediterranean coast, and which are shut up, on the land side, 
 by stupendous mountains, stood the little city of Almunecar. 
 The valley was watered by the river Frio, and abounded with 
 fruits, with grain, and with pasturage. The city was strongly 
 fortified ; and the garrison and alcayde were devoted to the 
 old monarch. This was the place chosen by Muley Aben 
 Hassan for his asylum. His first care was to send thither all 
 his treasures; his next, to take refuge there himself; his 
 third, that his sidtana Zorayna, and their two sons, should 
 follow him. 
 
 In the meantime, Muley Abdalla el Zagal pursued his 
 journey towards the capital, attended by his three hundred 
 cavaliers. The road from Malaga to Granada winds close by 
 Alhama, and is commanded by that fcnli'oss. This had been 
 a m St perilous pass for tho Moors during the time that 
 Alhama was commanded by the Count de Tendilla. Not a 
 traveller could escape his eagle eye ; and his garrison was 
 ever ready for a sally. The Count dc Tendilla, however, had 
 been relieved from this arduous post, and it hail been given 
 in charg. to Don Gutiere de I'adilla, clavero, or treasurer of 
 the order of Calatrava, an easy, indulgent man, who had with 
 him three hundred gallant knights of his order, beside other 
 mercenary troops. The garrison had fallen off in discipline ; 
 the cavaliers were hardy in fight and daring in foray, but 
 confident in themselves, and negligent of proper precautions. 
 Just before the journey of I'il Zagal, a number of these cava- 
 liers, with several soldiers of Hn-tune of the garrison, in all 
 one hundred and seventy men, had sallied forth to harass tho 
 Moorish country during its present distracted state ; and 
 having ravaged the valleys of the Sierra Nevada, or snowy 
 mountains, were returning to Alhama in gay spirits, and laden 
 with booty. 
 
 As El Zagal passed through tho neighbourhood of Alhama, 
 he recollected the ancient perils of the road, and sent light 
 corredors in advance, to inspect each rock and ravine where a 
 foe might lurk in aml)ush. One of these scouts, overlookiug 
 a narrow valley, which opened upon the road, descried a troop 
 of horsemen on the banks of a little stream. They Merc dis- 
 
 ^^i 
 
 tr 
 
 :|: 
 
 tl 
 
ff 
 
 126 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBANADA. 
 
 mounted, and had taken the bridles from their steeds, that 
 that they might crop the fresh grass on the banks of the 
 river. The horsemen were scattered about, some reposing 
 in the shade of rocks and trees, others gambling for 
 the spoil they had taken. Not a sentinel was posted 
 to keep guard; everj'thing showed the perfect security 
 of men who consider themselves beyond the reach of 
 danger. 
 
 'i'hese careless cavaliers were, in fact, the knights of Cala- 
 trava, with a part of their companions in arms, returning 
 from their foray. A part of their force had passed on with 
 the cavalgada ; ninety of the principal cavaliers had halted, 
 to repose and refresh themselves in this valley. El Zagal 
 smiled with ferocious joy when he heard of their negligent 
 security. " Here will be trophies," said he, " to grace our 
 entranceinto Alhambra." Approaching the valley with cautious 
 silence, he wheeled into it at full speed at the head of his 
 troop, and attacked the Christians so suddenly and furiously 
 that they had not time to put the bridles upon their horses, or 
 even to leap into the saddles. They made a confused but 
 valiant defence, fighting among the rocks, and in the rugged 
 bed of the river. Theii* defence was useless ; seventy-nine 
 were slain, the remaining eleven were taken prisoners. 
 
 A party of the Moors galloped in pursuit of the cavalgada; 
 they soon overtook it, winding slowly up a hill. ITie horse- 
 men who convoyed it, perceiving the enemy at a distance, 
 made their escape, and left the spoil to be retaken by the 
 Moors. 
 
 Kl Zagal gathered together his captives and his booty, and 
 proceeded, elate with success, to Granada. He paused before 
 the gate of Elvira, for as yet he had not been proclaimed king. 
 This ceremony was immediately performed ; for the fame of 
 his recent exploit had preceded him, and had intoxicated the 
 minds of the giddy populace. 
 
 He entered Granada in a sort of triumph. The eleven 
 captive knights of Calatrava walked in front. Next were 
 paraded the ninety captured steeds, bearing the armo!ir and 
 weapons of their late owners, and mounted by as many Moors. 
 Then came seventy Moorish horsemen, with as many Christian 
 heads hanging at their baddle-lM)W8. Muley Alxlalla el Zngal 
 followed, surrounded by a number of distinguished cnvailiers, 
 richly attired ; and the pageant was closed by a long cavol* 
 
EXPEDITION OF THE COUNT DE CABRA. 
 
 127 
 
 gada of the flocks and herds, and other booty, recovered fiom 
 the Christians.* 
 
 The populace gazed with ahuost savage triumph at these 
 captive cavaliers and the gorj' heads of their companions, 
 knowing them to have been a part of the formidable garrison 
 of Alhama, so long the scourge of Granada and the terror of 
 tlie vega. ITiey hailed this petty triumph as an auspicious 
 opening of the reign of their new monarch. P'or several 
 days the names of Muley Abcn Hassan and Boabdil el Chico 
 were never mentioned but with contempt, and the whole 
 city resoimded with the praises of Kl Zagal, or *' the 
 valiant." 
 
 CII\PTER XXXII. 
 
 The elevation of a bold and active veteran to the throne of 
 Granada, in place of its late bedridden king, made a vast 
 difference in the aspect of the war, and called for some blow 
 that should dash the confidence of the Moors in their new 
 monarch, and animate the Christians to fresh exertions. 
 
 Don Diego de Cordova, the brave Count de Cabra, was at 
 this time in his castle of Vaena, where he kept a wary eye 
 upon the frontier. It was now the latter part of August ; 
 and he grieved that the summer should pass away without any 
 inroad into the country of the foe. He sent out his scouts on the 
 prowl, and they brought him word that the important post of 
 Moclin was but weakly garrisoned. This was a castellated town, 
 strongly situate upon a high mountain, partly surrounded by 
 thick forests, and partly girdled by a river. It defended one 
 of the rugged and solitary passes by which the Christians 
 were wont to make their inroads, insomuch that the Moors, 
 in their figurative way, denominated it the shield of Granada ^ 
 
 The Count de Cabra sent word to the monarehs of the 
 feeble state of the garrison, and gave it as his opinion that by 
 a secret and rapid expedition the place might be surprised. 
 King Ferdinand asked the advice of his counsellors. Some 
 cautioned him against the sanguine temperament of the Count 
 ond his heedlessness of danger. Mochn, they observed, was 
 near to Granada, and might be promptly reinforced, llie 
 opinion of the count, however, prevailed; the king, con- 
 
 * ZuriU, lib. xx. c. 62. Marians, Hist. Espaft*. Arbaca, Annales 
 d« Aragon. 
 
I ■ 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRAXADA. 
 
 siderinw him almost infallible in matters of border warfare 
 since his capture of Boabnii el Chico. 
 
 The kinj^ departed from Cordova, therefore, and took post 
 at Alcala la Real, for the purpose of being near to Moclin, 
 The queen also proceeded to Vaena, accompanied by her 
 children. Prince Juan and the Princess Isabella, and her great 
 counsellor in all matters, public and private, spiiitual and 
 temporal, the venerable Grand Cardinal of Spain. 
 
 Nothing could exceed the pride and satisfaction of the 
 loyal Count de Cabra when he saw this stately train winding 
 along the dreaiy mountain roads, and entering the gates of 
 Vaena. He received his royal guests with all due ceremony, 
 and lodged them in the best apartments that the wan-ior 
 castle afforded, being the same that had fonnerly been occu- 
 pied by the royal captive Boabdil. 
 
 King Ferdinand had concerted a wary plan to ensure 
 the success of the enterprise. The Count de Cabra and Don 
 Martin Alonzo de Montemayor were to set forth with their 
 troops, so as to reach Moclin by a certain hour, and to inter- 
 cept all who should attempt to enter, or should sally from, 
 the town. The master of Calatrava, the troops of the Grand 
 Cardinal, commanded by the Count of Buendia, and the 
 forces of the Bishop of Jaen, led by that belligerent prelate, 
 amounting in all to four thousand horse and six thousand 
 foot, were to set off in time to co-operate with the Count de 
 Cabra, so as to sun-ound the town. The king was to follow 
 with his whole force, and encamp before the place. 
 
 And here the worthy Padre Fray Antonio Agapida breaks 
 forth into a triumphant eulogy of the pious prelates who thus 
 mingled personally in these scenes of warfare. " As this 
 was a holy cnisade,"' says he, "undertaken for the advance- 
 ment of the faith and the gloiy of the church, so was it 
 always coimtenanced and upheld by saintly men. For the 
 victories of their most Catholic majesties >vere not followed, 
 like those of more worldly sovereigns, by erecting castles 
 and towers, and appointing alcaydes and ganisons, but 
 by founding of convents and cathedrals, and the establish- 
 ment of wealthy bishoprics. WTierefore their majes- 
 ties were always srrrounded. in court or camp, in the cabinet 
 or in the field, by a crowd of ghostly advisers, inspiriting 
 them to the prosecution of this most righteous war. Nay, 
 the holy men of the church did not scniplc, at times, to buckle 
 
DEFEAT OF THE COUNT DE CABBA. 
 
 129 
 
 on the cuirass over the cassock, to exchange the crosier for 
 the lance ; and thus, with corporal hands, and temporal 
 weapons, to fight the good fight of the faith." 
 
 But to return from this rhapsody of the worthy friar. The 
 Count de Cabra, being instructed in the complicated arrange- 
 ments of the king, marched forth at midnight, to execute them 
 punctually. He led his troops by the little river, which winds 
 below Vaena, and so up the wild defiles of the mountains ; 
 marching all night, and stopping only in the heat of the 
 following day, to repose under the shadowy cliffs of a deep 
 barranca, calculating to arrive at Moclin exactly in time to 
 co-operate with the otlier forces. 
 
 The troops had scarcely stretched themselves on the earth 
 to take repose, when a scout arrived, bringing >vord that El 
 Zagal had suddenly sallied out of Granada, with a strong 
 force, and had encamped in the vicinity of Moclin. It was 
 plain that the wary Moor had received information of the 
 intended attack. This, however, was not the idea that pre- 
 sented itself to the mind of the Count de Cabra. He had 
 captured one king ; here was a fair opportunity to secure 
 another. What a triumph to lodge a second captive monarch 
 in his castle of Vaena ! What a prisoner to deliver into the 
 hands of his royal mistress ! Fired with the thought, the 
 good count forgot all the arrangements of the king; or, 
 rather, blinded by former success, he trusted everything to 
 courage and fortune, and thought that, by one bold swoop, he 
 might again bear off the royal prize, and wear his laurels 
 w^ithout competition. His only fear was that the master of 
 Calatrava, and the belligerent bishop, might come up in time 
 to share the glory of the victory. So ordering every one to 
 horse, this hot-spirited cavalier pushed on for Moclin, without 
 allowing his troops the nccessarj' time for repose.* 
 
 The evening closed as the count anived in the neighbour- 
 hood of Moclin. It was the full of the moon, and a bright 
 and cloudless night. The count was marching through one 
 of those deep valleys or ravines, worn in the Spanish moun- 
 tains by the brief but tremendous torrents, which prevail 
 during the autumnal rains. It was walled, on both sides, by 
 lofty and almost perpendicular cliffs ; but the strong gleams 
 of moonlight, that penetrated to the bottom of the glen, 
 glittered on the ai*mour of the squadrons, as they silently 
 * Mariana, lib. xxv. c. 17. Abarca. Zurita, &c. 
 
 K 
 
 mi 
 
130 
 
 THE CONQITEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 l ) 
 
 I 
 
 passed through it. Suddenly the war-cry of the Moors rose 
 in various parts of the valley, " El Zagal ! EI Zagal !" was 
 shouted from every cliff, accompanied by showers of missiles, 
 that struck down several of the Christian warriors. The 
 count lifted up his eyes, and beheld, by the lif^ht that pre- 
 vailed, every cliff glistening with Moorish soldiery. The 
 deadly shower fell thickly aroimd him; and the shining 
 armour of his followers made them fair objects for the aim of 
 the enemy. The count saw his brother Gonzalo struck dead 
 by his side ; his own horse sunk under him, pierced by four 
 Moorish lances ; and he received a wound in the hand from 
 an arquebuse. He remembered the horrible massacre of the 
 mountains of Malaga, and feared a similar catastrophe. 
 There was no time to pause. His brother's horse, freed from 
 his slaughtered rider, was running at large ; seizing the reins, 
 he sprang into the saddle, called upon his men to follow him, 
 and, wheeling round, retreated out of the fetal valley. 
 
 The Moors, rushing down from the heights, pursued the 
 retreating Christians. The chase endured for a league ; but 
 it was a league of rough and broken ground, where the 
 Christians had to turn and fight at almost every step. In 
 these short but fierce combats, the enemy lost many cavaliers 
 of note ; but the loss of the Christians was infinitely more 
 grievous, comprising numliers of the noblest waniors of 
 vaena and its vicinity. Many of the Christians, disabled by 
 wounds, or exhausted by fatigue, turned aside, and endea- 
 voured to conceal themselves among rocks and thickets, but 
 never more rejoined their companions ; being slain or cap- 
 tured by the Moors, or perishing in their wretched retreats. 
 
 The arrival of the troops, led by the master of Calatrava 
 and the Bishop of Jaen, put an end to the rout. El Zagal 
 contented himself with the laurels he had gained ; and, 
 ordering the trumpets to call off his men from the pursuit, 
 returned in great triumph to Moclin.* 
 
 Queen Isabella was at Vaena. awaiting in great anxiety, 
 the result of the expedition. She was in a stately apartment 
 of the castle, looking towards the road that winds through 
 the mountains from Moclin, and regarding the watchtowers 
 that crowned the neighbouring heights, in hopes j( favour- 
 able signals. The Prince and Princess, her children, were 
 with her, and her venerable councillor, the grand cardinal. 
 * Zurita, lib. xz. e. i. Pulgar, Cronica. 
 
DETEAT OF THE COUNT 1)E CABBA. 
 
 131 
 
 rose 
 
 was 
 ssilcs, 
 
 The 
 ,t pre- 
 
 The 
 
 All shared in the anxiety of the moment. At length couriers 
 Mrere seen riding toward the town. They entered its gates ; 
 but, before they reached the castle, the nature of their tidings 
 was known to the queen, by the slu-ieks and wailings that 
 rose from the streets below. The messengers were soon fol- 
 lowed by wounded fugitives, hastening home to be relieved, 
 or to die among their friends and families. Tlie whole town 
 resounded with lamentations, for it had lost the flower of its 
 youth, and its bravest warriors. Isabella was a woman of 
 courageous soul, but her feelings were overpowered by the 
 spectacle of woe which presented itself on eveiy side. Her 
 ■ maternal heart mourned over the death of so many loyal sub- 
 jects, who, so shortly before, had rallied round her with 
 devoted affection ; and, losing her usual self-command, she 
 sunk into deep despondency. 
 
 In this gloomy state of mind, a thousand apprehensions 
 crowded upon her. She dreaded the confidence M'hich this 
 success would impart to the Moors. She feared, also, for the 
 important fortress of Alhama, the garrison of which had not 
 been reinforced since its foraging party had been cut off by 
 this same El Zagal. On every side the queen saw danger 
 and disaster, and feared that a general rout was about to 
 attend the Castilian arms. 
 
 ITie grand cardinal comforted her with both spiritual and 
 worldly counsel. He told her to recollect, that no country 
 was ever conquered, without occasional reverses to the con- 
 querors ; that the Moors were a warlike people, fortified in a 
 • raugh and mountainous country, where they never could be 
 conquered by her ancestors ; and that, in fact, her annies had 
 already, in three years, taken more cities than those of any of 
 her predecessors had been able to do in twelve. He con- 
 cluded by offering to take the field, with three thousand 
 cavalry, his own retainers, paid and maintained by himself, 
 and either hasten to the relief of Alhama, or imdertake any 
 other expedition her majesty might command. The discreet 
 words of the cardinal soothed the spirit of the queen, who 
 always looked to him fur consolation, and she soon recovered 
 her usiml equanimity. 
 
 Some of the counsellors of Isabella, of that politic class 
 who seek to rise by the faidts of others, were loud in their 
 censures of the rashness of the count. The queen defended 
 him with prompt generosity. ** The enterprise," said she, 
 
 K 2 
 
 i 
 
 ii 
 
 
 \ 
 
\; 
 
 ".! 
 
 i 
 
 te 
 
 1;HE conquest CF GRANADA. 
 
 " was rash ; but not more rash than that of Luccna, which was 
 crowned with success, and which we have all applauded, as 
 the height of heroism. Had the Count de Cabra succeeded 
 in capturing the uncle, as he did the nephew, who is there 
 that would not have praised him to the skies ?" 
 
 The magnanimous words of the queen put a stop to all 
 invidious remarks in her presence ; but certain of the 
 courtiers, who had envied the count the glory gained by his 
 former achievements, continued to magnify, among them- 
 selves, his present imprudence : and we are told by Fray , 
 Antonio Agapida, that they snceringly gave the worthy 
 cavalier the appellation of "Count de Cabra, the king- 
 catcher." 
 
 Ferdinand had reached the place on the frontier called the 
 Fountain of the King, within three leagues of Moclin, when 
 he heard of the late disaster. He greatly lamented the preci- 
 pitation of the count, but forbore to express himself with 
 severity ; for he knew the value of that loyal and valiant 
 cavalier.* He held a council of war, to determine what 
 course was to be pursued. Some of his cavaliers advised him 
 to abandon the attempt upon Moclin, the place being strongly 
 reinforced, and the enemy inspirited by his recent victory. 
 Certain old Spanish hidalgos reminded him, that he had but a 
 few Castilian troops in his army, without which stanch sol- 
 diery his predecessors never presumed to enter the Moorish 
 territory ; while others remonstrated, that it would be beneath 
 the dignity of the king to retire from an enterprise on 
 account of the defeat of a single cavalier and his retainers. 
 In this way the king was distracted by a multitude of coun- 
 sellors ; when fortimately a letter from the queen put an end 
 to his perplexities. Proceed we in the next chapter, ta 
 relate what was the purport of that letter. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXni. 
 
 *♦ Happy are those princes," exclaims the worthy Padre 
 Fray Antonio Agapida, " who have women and priests to 
 advise them ; for in these dwelleth the spirit of council !" 
 While Ferdinand and his captains were confounding each 
 other in their deliberations at the Fountain of the King, a 
 
 Abarcn, Anales dc Aragon. 
 
 / - 
 

 EXPEDITION AGAINST CAMBIL AND ALBAIIAB. 
 
 133 
 
 quiet but deep little council of war was held, in the state 
 apartment of the old castle of Vaena, between Queen Isabella, 
 the venerable Pedro Gonzalez de Mendoza, gnrand cardinal of 
 Spain, and Don Garcia Osorio, the belligerent bishop of Jaen. 
 This last worthy prelate, who had exchanged his mitre for a 
 helm, no sooner beheld the defeat of the enterprise against 
 Moclin, than he turned the reins of his sleek, stall-fed steed, 
 and hastened back to Vaena, full of a project for the employ- 
 ment of the army, the advancement of the faith, and the 
 benefit of his own diocese. He knew, that the actions of the 
 king were influenced by the opinions of the queen ; and that 
 the queen always inclined a listening ear to the counsels of 
 saintly men. He laid his plans, therefore, \nth the customary 
 wisdom of his cloth, to turn the ideas of the queen into the 
 proper channel ; and this was the purport of the worthy 
 bishop^s suggestions. 
 
 The bishopric of Jaen had for a long time been harassed by 
 two Moorish castles, the scourge and teiTor of all that part of 
 the country. They were situate on the frontiers of the king- 
 dom of Grdhada, about four leagues from Jaen, in a deep, 
 narrow, and rugged valley, surrounded by lofty mountains. 
 Through this valley runs the Rio Frio, or " cold river," in a 
 deep channel, between high precipitous rocks. On each side 
 of the stream rise two vast rocks, nearly perpendicular, within 
 a stone's throw of each other ; blocking up the narrow gorge 
 of the valley. On the summits of these rocks stood the two 
 formidable castles of Cambil and Albahar, fortified with bat- 
 tlements and towers of great height and thickness. They 
 were connected together by a bridge, thrown from rock to 
 rock across the river. The road which passed through the 
 valley traversed this bridge, and was completely commanded 
 by these castles. They stood like two giants of romance, 
 guarding the pass, and dominating the valley. 
 
 The kings of Granada, knowing the importance of these 
 castles, kept them always well garrisoned and victualled, to 
 stand a siege ; with fleet steeds and hard riders, to forage the 
 country of the Christians. The warlike race of the Abencer- 
 rages, the troops of the royal household, and others of the 
 choicest chivalry of Granada, made them their strong-holds, 
 from whence to sally forth on those predator}' and roving 
 enterprises, which were the delight of the Moorish cavaliers. 
 As the wealthy bishopric of Jaen lay immediately at 
 
 > i] 
 
 A' 
 
 '^Ki 
 
 Hi 
 
 
 
 
 . i 
 
 n 
 
 m 
 
f— »-"»''w m^\ fut 
 
 134 
 
 IHE CONQUEST OF GBA?IADA. 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 hnnd, it suffbrctl more peculiarly from thcso marauder^. 
 They drove oil' the fat beeves, and the Hocks of sheep from 
 the pastures, and swept the labourers from the held. They 
 scoured the country to the ver)* pates of Jaen ; so that the 
 citizens could not ventme from their walls without the riak 
 of being borne off captive to the dungeons of these castles. 
 
 The w^orthy bishop, like a good pastor, beheld, with grief 
 of heart, his fat bishopric daily waxing leaner and leaner, 
 and poorer and poorer ; and his holy ire was kindled at the 
 thought, that the possessions of the chmch should thus be at 
 the mercy of a crew of infidels. 
 
 It was the urgent council of the bishop, therefore, that the 
 military force thus providentially assembled in the neigh- 
 bourhood, since it was apparently foiled in its attempt upon 
 Moclin, should be turned against these insolent castles, and 
 the country delivered from their domination. The grand 
 cardinal supported the suggestion of the bishop, and declared, 
 that he had long meditated the policy of a measure of the 
 kind. Their united opinions found favour with the queen, 
 and she despatched a letter on the subject to the king. It 
 came just in time to relieve him from the distraction of a 
 multitude of counsellors, and he immediately undertook the 
 reduction of the caatles. 
 
 The Marquis of Cadiz was, accordingly, sent in advance, 
 with two thousand horse, to keep watch upon the gairisons, 
 and prevent all entrance or exit until the king should arrive 
 with the main army and the battering artillery. The queen, 
 to be near at hand in case of need, moved her quarters to the 
 city of Jaen, where she was received with martial honours 
 by the belligerent bishop, who had buckled on his cuirass, 
 and girded on his sword, to fight in the cause of his diocese. 
 
 In the meantime, the Marquis of Cadiz arrived in tha 
 valley, and completely shut up the Moors within their walls. 
 The castles were under the command of Mcahomet Lentin ben 
 Usef, an Abencerrage, and one of the bravest cavaliers of 
 Granada. In his garrisons were many troops of the fierce 
 African tribe of Gomeres. Mahomet Lentin, confident in the 
 strength of his fortresses, smiled, as he looked down from his 
 battlements, upon the Christian cavalry, perplexed in the 
 rough and narrow valley. He sent forth skirmishing parties 
 to harass them ; and there were many shai-p combats between 
 small parties and single knights ; but the Moors were driven 
 
ilert. 
 from 
 rhey 
 ,t the 
 risk 
 w. 
 
 grief 
 }ancr, 
 it the 
 be at 
 
 at the 
 meigh- 
 t upon 
 8, and 
 giand 
 clared, 
 of the 
 queen, 
 
 Vr. It 
 
 )n of a 
 ok the 
 
 Ivance^ i« 
 TisonSt •■i 
 arrive' > 
 queen, 
 to the 
 lonours ' 
 •uirass, 
 tcese. 
 in the 
 
 ^'alls. 
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 iiers of " 
 
 fierce 
 
 in the 
 •om his 
 
 in the 
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 [etween 
 
 driven 
 
 EXPEDITIOX AGAINST CAMBIL AND ALBAHAR. 
 
 13o 
 
 back to the castles ; and all attempts to send intellipjenoe of 
 their situation to Granada were intercepted by the vigilance 
 of the Marquis of Cadiz. 
 
 At length the legions of the royal army came pouring, witli 
 fluttering banner and vaunting trumpet, along the defiles of 
 the mountains. They halted before the castles ; but the king 
 could not find room, in the narrow and rugged valley, to 
 form his camp : he had to divide it into three parts, which 
 were posted on different heights, and his tents whitened the 
 sides of the neighbouring hills. When the encampment was 
 formed, the army remained gazing idly at the castles. The 
 artillery was upwards of four leagues in the rear, and without 
 artillery all attack would be in vain. 
 
 The alcayde, Mahomet Lentin, knew the nature of the road 
 by which the artillery had to be brought. It was merely a 
 rugged path, at times scaling almost perpendicular crags and 
 precipices, up which it was utterly impossible for wheel 
 carriages to pass ; neither was it in the power of man or 
 beast to draw up the lombards and other ponderous ordnance. 
 He felt assured, therefore, that they never could be brought 
 to the camp ; and, without their aid, what could the Christians 
 effect against his rock-built castles ? He scoffed at them, 
 therefore, as he saw their tents by day, and their fires by 
 night, covering tlie surrounding heights. " Let them linger 
 here a little while longer," said he, ''and the autumnal 
 torrents will wash them from the mountains." 
 
 While the alcayde was thus closely mewed up within his 
 walls, and the Christians lay inactive in their camp, he 
 noticed, one calm autumnal day, the sound of implements of 
 labour echoing among the mountains, and now and then the 
 crash of a fallen tree, or a thundering report, as if some rock 
 had been heaved from its bed, and hurled into the valley. 
 The alcayde was on the battlements of his castle, surrounded 
 by his knights. " Methinks," said he, " these Christians are 
 making war upon the rocks and trees of the mountains, since 
 they find our castles unassailable." 
 
 The sounds did not cease even during the night ; every 
 now and then, the Moorish sentinel, as he paced the battle- 
 ments, heard some crash echoing among the heights. The 
 return of day explained the mystery. Scarcely did the mm 
 shine against the summits of the mountains, than shouts burst 
 from the cliffs opposite to the castles, and were answered 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 i jr'l 
 
 M 
 
 ■i: 
 
 
 
 it 
 
136 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRAXADA. 
 
 I< I 
 
 ^il 
 
 from the camp with joyful sound of kettle-drums and 
 trumpets. 
 
 The astonished Moors lifted up their eyes, and beheld, as 
 it were, a torrent of war breaking out of a narrow defile. 
 There was a multitude of men with pickaxes, spades, and 
 bars of iron, clearing away every obstacle, while behind them 
 slowly moved along great teams of oxen, dragging heavy 
 ordnance, and all the munitions of battering warfare. 
 
 " What cannot women and priests effect, when they unite 
 in council!" exclaims again the worthy Antonio Agapida. 
 The queen had held another consultation with the grand 
 cardinal, and the belligerent bishop of Jaen. It was clear, 
 that the heavy ordnance could never be conveyed to the camp 
 by the regular road of the country, and on this must depend 
 every hope of success. It was suggested, however, by the 
 zealous bishop, that another road might be opened through a 
 more practicable part of the mountains. It would be an 
 undertaking extravagant and chimerical with ordinary means, 
 and, therefore, unlooked for by the enemy ; but what could 
 not kings do, who had treasures and armies at command ? 
 
 The project struck the enteiprising spirit of the queen. Six 
 thousand men, with pickaxes, crowbars, and every other 
 necessary implement, were set to work, day and night, to 
 break a road through the very centre of the mountains. No 
 time was to be lost ; for it was rumoured that £1 Zagal was 
 about to march with a mighty host to the relief of the castles, 
 llic bustling Bishop of Jaen acted as pioneer, to mark the 
 route and superintend the labourers ; and the grand cardinal 
 took care, that the work should never languish through lack 
 of money.* 
 
 " When king's treasures," says Fray Antonio Agapida, 
 " are dispensed by priestly hands, there is no stint, as the 
 glorious annals of Spain bear witness." Under the guidance 
 of these ghostly men, it seemed as if miracles were effected. 
 Almost an entire mountain was levelled, valleys filled up, 
 trees hewn down, rocks broken and overturned ; in short, 
 all the obstacles, which nature had heaped around, entiiely 
 nnd promptly vanouished. In little more than twelve days 
 this gigantic work was accomplished, and the ordnance 
 dragged to the camp, to the great triumph of the Christians, 
 and confuRion of the Moors. f 
 
 * Ziiritft, AnalM U« Aragon« lib. xx, c, 04. Pulgar, part iii. c. 61. 
 
 flbld. , 
 
EXPEDITION AGAINST CAMBIL AND ALBAHAB. 
 
 137 
 
 and 
 
 No sooner was the heavy artillery arrived, than it was 
 disposed in all haste upon the neighbouring heights. Francisco 
 Ramirez de Madrid, the first engineer in Spain, superintended 
 the batteries, and soon opened a destructive fire upon the 
 castles. 
 
 When the valiant alcayde, Mahomet Lentin, found his 
 towers tirnibliug about him, and his bravest men dashed from 
 the walls, without the power of inflicting a Mound upon the 
 foe, his haughty spirit was greatly exasperated. " Of what 
 avail," said he, " is all the prowess of Jinighthood against 
 these cowardly engines, that murder from afar?" 
 
 For a whole day a tremendous fire kept thundering upon 
 the castle of Albahar. The lombards discharged large stones, 
 which demolished two of the towers, and all the battlements 
 which guarded the portal. If any Moors attempted to defend 
 the walls, or repair the breaches, they were shot down by 
 ribadoquines, and other small pieces of artillery. The 
 Christian soldiery issued forth from the camp, under cover of 
 this fire, and, approaching the castles, discharged flights of 
 arrows and stones through the openings made by the 
 ordnance. 
 
 At length, to bring the siege to a conclusion, Francisco 
 Ramirez elevated some of the heaviest artillery on a mount, 
 that rose in form of a cone or pyramid, on the side of the 
 river near to Albahar, and commanded both castles. This 
 was an opcrutior of great skill and t xcessive labour, but it 
 was repaid by complete success ; for the Moors did not dare 
 to wait until this terrible battery should discharge its fury. 
 Satisfied that all further resistance was vain, the valiant 
 akaydc made signal for a parley. The articles of capitulation 
 were soon arranged ; the alcayde and his garrison were per- 
 mitted to return in safety to the city of Granada, and the 
 castles were delivered into the possession of King Ferdinand, 
 on the day of the festival of St. Matthew, in the month of 
 September. They were immediately repaired, strongly gam- 
 soned, and given m charge to the city of Jaen. 
 
 The effects of tliis triumph were immediately apparent. 
 Quiet and security once more settled upon the bishopric; 
 the husbandmen tilled their fields in peace, the herds and 
 flocks fatteufd unmolested in the pastures, and the vineyards 
 yielded corpulent skin.sful of rosy wine ; the good bishop en- 
 joyed, in tuo gratitude of his people, the opprobation of his 
 
 f ■ 
 
 V; 
 
 'i 
 
 
 I 1 
 
 % 
 
Si 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 138 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBAKADA. 
 
 conscience, the increase of his revenueEi and the abundance 
 of his tabic, a reward for all his toils and perils. " This 
 glorious victory," exclaims Fray Antonio Agapida, "achieved 
 by such extraordinary management and infinite labour, is a 
 fihining example of what a bishop can effect for the promo- 
 tion of the faith, and the good of his diocese." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 While these events were taking place on the northern 
 frontier of the kingdom of Granada, the important fortress of 
 Alhama was neglected, and its commander, Don Gutiere do 
 Padilla, clavero of Calatrava,* reduced to great perplexity : 
 the remnant of the foraging party, which had been surprised and 
 massacred by the fierce El Zagal, when on his way to Granada 
 to receive the crown, had returned in confusion and dismay 
 to the fortress ; they could only speak of their own disgrace, 
 t)eing obliged to abandon their cavalgada, and to fly, pursued 
 by a superior force. Of the flower of their party, the gallant 
 knights of Culatruva, who had remained behind in the valley, 
 they knew nothing. A few days cleared up the mystery, 
 and brought tidings of their steeds, led in triumph into the 
 gates of Granada ; and their bleeding heads, borne at the ' 
 saddlebows of the warriors of El Zagal. Their fellow knights, 
 who formed a part of the garrison, were struck with horror 
 at the dismal story, and panted to revenge their death ; their 
 number, however, was too mtich reduced by this loss to take 
 the field ; for the vega swarmed with the troops of El Zagal. 
 They could not even venture forth to forage for provisions ; 
 and the defeat of the Count de Cabra having interrupted 
 their customary supplies, they were reduced to such ex- 
 tremity, that they had to kill several of their horses for 
 food. 
 
 Don Outiero do Padilla, clavero of Calatrava, the com- 
 mander of the fortress, was pondering one day over the gloomy 
 state of afl'airs, when a Moor was brought before him, who 
 had applied at the gate for an audience. He bore a budget, 
 and appeared to bo one of those itinerant merchants, who 
 wandered about the country in those days, hanging on the 
 
 ♦ CInvoro of Calatrarft h lio who bcftre the kcy« of the rasilo, 
 convcnta, and archives of tho order. It i« an cfiioc of great honour 
 and rMstinutioD. 
 
 means 
 in the 
 paid 
 eitadc 
 
 "Ar 
 him wi 
 people 
 
 "I 
 mother 
 people, 
 
 Tho 
 
£KT£RFBI8£ A0A.XK8T ZALEA. 
 
 139 
 
 skirts of armies, to purchase the spoils of the soldiery, anil 
 vrho would pretend to sell amulets, trinkets, and perfumes, 
 but would often draw forth from their wallets articles of great 
 rarity and value : rich shawls, chains of gold, necklaces of 
 pearls and diamonds, and costly gems, the plimder of camps 
 and cities. The Moor approached the elavero with a mys- 
 terious look. " Senior," said he, " I would speak with you 
 alone ; I have a precious jewel to dispose of" " I need no 
 jewels," said the elavero, abruptly ; take thy wares to the 
 soldiery." " By the blood of him who died on the cross," 
 exclaimed the Moor, with earnest solemnity, " do not tuni a 
 deaf ear to my offer: the jewel I have to sell would be 
 to you of inestimable value, and you alone can be the 
 purchaser." 
 
 The elavero was moved by the earnestness of the Moor, and 
 perceived, that, imder the figurative langimge common to his 
 countrymen, he concealed some meaning of importoncc. Ho 
 made a sign, therefore, to his attendants to withdraw ; the 
 Moor looked after them, until the door closed ; then advan- 
 cing cautiously, " What will you give me," said he, " if I 
 deliver the fortress of Zalea into your hands ?" 
 
 Zalea was a strong town, about two leagues distant, which 
 had long been a hostile and dangerous neighbour to Alhama ; 
 itf) warriors laying frequent ambuscades to surprise the knights 
 of Calatrava, when out upon a forage, and to intercept and 
 cut off their supplies and cavalgadas. 
 
 The elavero looked with mingled surprise and distrust at 
 this itinerant pedlar, who thus offered to traffic for a warlike 
 town. " Thou talkest," said he, " of selling me Zulea ; what 
 means hast thou of making good the sale ?" *' I have a brother 
 in the garrison," replied the Moor, " who for a proper sura 
 paid down, will admit a body of troops by night into tho 
 citadel." 
 
 " And for a sum of gold, then," said tho elavero, regardinfj^ 
 him with stern scrutiny, " thou art prepared to betray thy 
 people and thy faith?" 
 
 " I abjure them and their faith," replied the Moor : " my 
 mother was a Castilian captive; her people shall bo my 
 people, and her religion my religion." 
 
 The cautious elavero still distrusted the sincerity of this 
 mongrel Moor and piebold Christian. "What assurance," 
 continued he, " have I, that thou wilt deal more truly with 
 
 
 
 'M 
 
 1 
 
 
1 
 
 140 
 
 THE CONQUEST OP GBAKADA. 
 
 i 
 
 tne, than with the alcayde of the fortress thou wouldst be- 
 tray ? To mc thou hast uo tie of fealty, to him thou owest 
 thy allegiance." 
 
 *' I owe him no allegiance !" cried the Moor, fire flashing 
 from his eyes : " the alcayde is a tyrant, a dog ! he has 
 robbed me of my merchandise, stripped me of ray lawful 
 booty, and ordered me the bastinado, because I dared to 
 complain. May the curse of God light upon me, if I rest 
 contented, until I have ample vengeance !" 
 
 " Enough," said the clavero; " I will trust to thy ven- 
 geance, even more than to thy Christianity." 
 
 Don Gutiere now summoned a council of his principal 
 knights. They were all eager for the enterprise, as a mode 
 of revenging the death of their companions, and wiping off 
 the stigma cast upon the order by the late defeat. Spies 
 were sent to reconnoitre Zalea, and to commimicate with the 
 brother of the Moor ; the simi to be paid as a recompense 
 was adjusted, and every airangement made for the en- 
 terprise. 
 
 On the appointed night, a party of cavaliers set out under 
 the guidance of the Moor. When they came near to Zalea, 
 their leader bound the hands of the guide behind his back, 
 nnd pledged his knightly word to strike him dead on the least 
 «ign of treachery ; he then bade him lead the way. It was 
 midnight when they arrived in silence under the walls of 
 the citadel. At a low signal, a ladder of ropes was let down : 
 Gutiere Mufioz and Pedro de Alvarado were the first to 
 ascend, followed by half a dozen others. They surprised the 
 guards, cut them down, threw them over the wall, and 
 gained possession of a tower. The alarm was given, the 
 whole citadel was in confusion, but already the knights of 
 Calatrava were in every part ; they called to each other to 
 remember their bi*ethrcn massacred in the valley of the vega, 
 and their bloody heads borne in triumph to Granada. They 
 fought with sanguinary fury ; most of the half armed and 
 bewildered garrison were put to the sword ; the rest were 
 taken prisoners ; in an hour they were masters of the citadel, 
 <md the to^ni submitted of course. They found the magazine 
 stored with all kinds of provisions, with which they loaded an 
 immense train of beasts of burden, for the relief of the famish- 
 inggarrison of Alhamu. 
 
 Thus did the gallant knights of Calatrava gain tho strong 
 
 i 
 
DEATH OF MULET ABEN HASSAN. 
 
 141 
 
 ven- 
 
 tovm of Zalea, with scarcely any loss, and atone for the in- 
 glorious defeat sustained by their companions. Large rein- 
 forcements and supplies from the sovereigns arriving soon 
 after, strengthened them in their own forti-ess, and enabled 
 them to keep possession of their new conquest. This gallant 
 affair took place about the same time as the capture of Cambil 
 and Albahar ; and these two achievements gave a prosperous 
 termination to the chequered events of this important year. 
 Ferdinand and Isabella retii-ed for the winter to Alcada do 
 Henares, where the queen, on the 16th of December gave 
 birth to the Infant^ Catherine, afterwards spouse to Henry 
 VIII. of England. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 The personal exploits with which El Zagal had commenced 
 his reign, in surprising the knights of Calatrava, and defeating^ 
 the Count dc Cabra, had given him a transient popularity, 
 which he had promoted by feasts and tournaments, and other 
 public rejoicings, in which the Moors delighted. Knowing, 
 however, the uncertain nature of the people over whom he 
 reigned, he feared some capricious revolution in favour of his 
 deposed brother, Mvdey Aben Hassan. That once fiery old 
 monarch was now blind and bediidden, and lived in a kind of 
 durance in the city of Almune9ar. He was treated, however, 
 with deference and attention, for the garrison had heen 
 originally appointed by himself. El Za^, having now a 
 little leisure during the interval of the campaigns, became 
 suddenly solicitous about the death of his brother, and had 
 him removed to Salobreila, for the benefit of purer and more 
 salubrious air. 
 
 The small town of Salobreua was situate on a lofty hill, that 
 rose out of the centre of a beautiful and fertile valley on the 
 Mediterranean coast. It was protected by a strong castle, 
 built by the Moorish kings as a place of deposit for their 
 treasures. Here also they sent such of their sons and brothers 
 as might endanger the security of their reign. They lived 
 here, prisoners at large, in a state of voluptuous repose, imder 
 a serene sky, in a soft climate and luxuriant valley. I'ho 
 palace was adorned with fountains, and delicious gardens, and 
 perfumed baths ; a harem of beauties was at the command of 
 tho royal captives, and music and the dance beguiled the lag- 
 
 
 
 If 
 
 I 
 
 it'l 
 
i- 9 0i>«ww«*BM*»e^";v att^xfK'&TJi 
 
 142 
 
 THE CONQUEST OP OBANADA. 
 
 ging hoiirs. Nothing was denied them but the liberty to 
 depart ; that alone was wanting to render the abode a perfect 
 Paradise. 
 
 Notwithstanding the extreme salubritj' of the air, and the 
 assiduous attentions of the commander, who was devoted to 
 EI Zagal, and had been particularly charged by him to be 
 watchful over the health of his brother, the old monarch had 
 not been here many days before he expired. There was no- 
 thing surprising in this event, for life with him had long 
 glimmered in the socket ; but the measures immediately taken 
 by El Zagal roused the suspicions of the public. With in- 
 decent haste he ordered that the treasures of the deceased 
 should be packed upon mules and conveyed to Granada, where 
 he took possession of them, to the exclusion of the children. 
 The sultana Zorayna and her two sons were imprisoned in the 
 Alhambra, in the tower of Comares ; the same place where, 
 by her instigation, the virtuous Ayxa la Horra and her son 
 Boabdil had once been confined. There she had leisure to 
 ruminate on the disappointment of all her schemes, perfidiously 
 executed, for the advancement of those sons who were her 
 fellow prisoners. ITie corpse of old Muley Aben Hassan was 
 also brought to Granada ; not in state, like the remains of a 
 once powerful sovereign, but transported ignominiously on a 
 mule. It received no funeral honours, but was borne ob- 
 scurely to the grave by two Christian captives, and deposited 
 in the royal Osario or ehamel house.* 
 
 No sooner were the people well asstired that old Muley 
 Aben Hassan was dead and buried, than they all, with one 
 accord, began to deplore his loss and extoll his memory. They 
 admitted that he had been fierce and cruel, but then he had been 
 brave ; it was true he had pulled down this war upon their 
 heads, but he had himself also been crushed by it. In a word, 
 he was dead, and his death atoned for every fault ; for a king, 
 just deceased, is generally cither a hero or a saint. In propor- 
 tion as they ceased to hate Muley Aben Hassan, they began 
 to hate his brother El Zagal. The manner of the old king's 
 death, the eagerness to seize upon his treasures, the scandalous 
 neglect of his corpse, and the imprisonment of his sultana and 
 children, all filled the public mind with dark suspicions, and 
 the name of El Zagal was often coupled with the epithets of 
 fratricide in the low murmurings of the people. 
 * Cura de los PalacioS; cap. IxxrH. 
 
DISSEXSIOKS AT OBAKADA. 
 
 143 
 
 srty to 
 perfect 
 
 ind the 
 oted to 
 I to be 
 rch had 
 wras no- 
 ad long 
 ly taken 
 i/^ith in- 
 leccased 
 a, where 
 jhildren. 
 id in the 
 ; where, 
 her son 
 jisure to 
 •fidiouslv 
 vcre her 
 ssan was 
 kins of a 
 sly on a 
 ome ob- 
 leposited 
 
 Muley 
 with one 
 They 
 lad been 
 jjon their 
 n a word, 
 3r a king, 
 Q propor- 
 ley began 
 Id kings 
 [^tadalous 
 Itana and 
 nons, and 
 pithets of 
 
 As the public must always have some leading person to like 
 as well as to hate, there began once more to be an inquiry 
 after Boabdil el Chico. That unfortunate monarch was living 
 at Cordova, under the shade of the cold friendship of Ferdi- 
 nand, who had ceased to regard him with much attention 
 when he was no longer useful to his interests. No sooner, 
 however, did the public favour once more incline towards him 
 than the kindness of the catholic monarch immediately re- 
 vived. He furnished him with money and means again to 
 el'"vate his standard, and create a division in the Moorisli 
 power. By this assistance Boabdil established the shadow of 
 a court at Velez el Blanco, a strong frontier town on the con- 
 fines of Murcia, where he remained, as it were, with one foot 
 over the border, and ready to draw that back at a moments 
 warning. His presence, however, gave new life to his faction 
 in Granada. It is true, the more courtly and opulent inha- 
 bitants of the quarter of the Alhambra still rallied round the 
 throne of El Zagal as the great seat of power, but then the 
 inhabitants of the albaycin, the poorest T>art of the community, 
 who had nothing to risk and nothing to lose, were almost 
 unanimous in favour of the indigent Boabdil. So it is in this 
 wonderful system of «ublunary affairs, the rich befriend the 
 rich, the powerful stand by the powerful, while the poor enjoy 
 the sterile assistance of their fellows : thus, each one seeking 
 his kind, the admirable order of all things is maintained, and 
 a universal harmony prevails. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 Great and glorious was the style with which the Catholic 
 sovereigns opened another year's campaign of this eventful 
 war. It was like commencing another act of a stately and 
 heroic drama, where the curtain rises to the inspiring sound 
 of martial melody, and the whole stage glitters with the array 
 of warriors and the pomp of arms. 'ITie ancient city of Cor- 
 dova was the place appointed by the sovereigns for the assem- 
 blage of the troops, and, early in the spring of 1486, the fair 
 valley of the Ghaadalquivir resounded with the shrill blast of 
 trumpet and the impatient neighing of the war horse. In 
 this splendid era of Hpani^th chivalry there was a rivalship 
 among the nobles, who most should distinguish himself by the 
 splendour of his appearance and the number and equipments 
 
I uriiiirwiiirtifMr' "i r'ffunrww 
 
 •Iffpw 
 
 144 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBAKADA. 
 
 
 of his feudal followers. Every day beheld some cavalier of 
 note, the representative of some proud and powerful house, 
 entering the gates of Cordova with sound of trumpet, and dis- 
 playing his banner and device, renowned in many a contest. 
 He would appear in sumptuous array, surrounded by pages 
 and lackeys no less gorgeously attired, and followed by a host 
 of vassals and retainers, horse and foot, all admirably equipped 
 in burnished armoiu'. 
 
 Such was the state of Don Inigo Lopez de Mendoza, Ihike 
 of Infantado, who may be cited as a picture of a warlike noble 
 of those times. lie brought with him five himdred men-at- 
 arms of his household, equipped and mounted d la geneta and 
 d la guisa. ITie cavaliers who attended him were both mag- 
 nificently armed and di*essed. ITie housings of fifty of lus 
 horses were of rich cloth embroidered with gold, and others 
 w^cre of brocade. The sumpter mules had housings of tho 
 same, with halters of silk ; while the bridles, headpieces, and 
 all the harnessing glittered with silver. 
 
 The camp equipage of these noble and luxurious warriors- 
 was equally magnificent. Their tents were gay paviUons of 
 various colours, fitted up with silken hangings, and decorated 
 with fluttering pennons. They had vessels of gold and silver 
 for the service of their tables, as if they were about to engage 
 in a course of stately feasts and courtly revels, instead of the 
 stem encoimters of rugged and mountainous warfare. Some- 
 times they passed through the streets of Cordova at night, in 
 splendid cavalcade, with great numbers of lighted torches, 
 the rays of which, falling upon polished armour, and nodding 
 plumes, and silken scarfs, and trappings of golden embroidery, 
 filled all beholders with admiration.* 
 
 But it was not the chivalry of Spain alone which thronged 
 the streets of Cordova. The fame of this war had spread 
 throughout Christendom : it was considered a kind of crusade, 
 and Catholic knights from all parts hastened to signalize 
 themselves in so holy a cause. There were several valiant 
 chevaliers from France, among whom the most distinguished 
 was Gaston du Leon, seneschal of Toulouse. With him came 
 a gallant train, well armed and mounted, and decorated witJi 
 rich surcoats and punaches of feathers. These cavaliers, it is 
 said, eclipsed all others in the light festivities of the court. 
 They were devoted to the fair, but not after tho solemn and 
 I* Pulgar, part iii. cap 41. 56. 
 
CHBISTIAN ABMT OF COBDOYA. 
 
 145 
 
 passionate manner of the Spanish lovers : they were gay, gal- 
 lant, and joyous in their amours, and captivated by the vivacit}' 
 of their attacks. They were at first held in light estimation 
 by the grave and stately Spanish knights, until they made 
 themselves to be respected by their wonderful prowess in the 
 field. 
 
 The most conspicuous of the volunteers, however, who 
 appeared in Cordova on this occasion, was an English knight 
 of royal connexion. This was the Lord Scales, Earl of Rivers, 
 related to the Queen of England, wife of Henry VII. He 
 had distinguished himself, in the preceding year, at the battle 
 of Bosworth Field, where Henry Tudor, then Earl of Rich- 
 mond, overcame Richard III. That decisive battle having 
 left; the country at peace, the Earl of Rivers, retaining a pas- 
 sion for warlike scenes, repaired to the Castilian court, to 
 keep his aims in exercise in a campaign against the Moors. 
 He brought with him a hundred archers, all dexterous with 
 the long bow and the cloth yard arrow, also two hundred 
 yeomen, armed cap-a-pie, who fought with pike and battle- 
 axe ; men robust of frame, and of prodigious strength. 
 
 The worthy Padre Fray Antonio Agapida describes this 
 stranger knight and his followers wuth his accustomed accu- 
 racy and minuteness. "This cavalier," he obseiTes, "was 
 firom the island of England, and brought with him a train of 
 his vassals; men who had been hardened in certain civil 
 wars which had raged in their country. They were a comely 
 race of men, but too fair and fresh for warriors ; not having 
 the sunburnt, martial hue of our old Castilian soldiery. They 
 were huge feeders, also, and deep carousers ; and could not 
 accommodate themselves to the sober diet of our troops, but 
 must fain eat and drink after the manner of their own eountrj'. 
 They were often noisy and unruly, also, in their wassail ; and 
 their quarter of the camp was prone to be a scene of loud 
 revel and sudden brawl. They were withal of great pride ; 
 yet it was not like our inflammable Spanish pride: they 
 stood not much upon the pundonor and high punctilio, and 
 rarely drew the stiletto in their disputes ; but their pride was 
 silent and contumelious. Though from a remote, and some- 
 what barbarous island, they yet believed themselves the most 
 E^rfect men upon earth ; and magnified their chieftain, the 
 ord Scales, beyond the greatest of our grandees. With all 
 this, it must be said of them, that they were mar>'ellou8 good 
 
 1 f r 
 
 if''! II 
 
 %A 
 
 i 
 
 i%- 
 
 m 
 
'" MI>lililn«MiH*'''--tf --^ 
 
 
 146 
 
 THE COlfQUEST OF GBANADA. 
 
 men in the field, dexterous archers, and powerful with the 
 battle-axe. In their great pride and self will, they always 
 sought to press in the advance, and take the post of danger, 
 trying to outvie our Spanish chivalry. They did not rush 
 forward fiercely, or make a brilliant onset, like the Moorish 
 and Spanish troops, but they went into the fight deliberately, 
 and persisted obstinately, and were slow to find out when 
 they were beaten. Withal, they were much esteemed, yet 
 little liked, by our soldiery, who considered them staunch 
 companions in the field, yet coveted but little fellowship with 
 them in the camp. 
 
 " Their commander, the Lord Scales, was an accomplished 
 cavalier, of gracious and noble presence, and fair speech. It 
 was a marvel to see so much courtesy in a knight brought up 
 so far from our Castilian court. He was much honoured by 
 the king and queen, and found great favour with the fair 
 dames about the court ; who, indeed, are rather prone to be 
 pleased with foreign cavaliers. He went always in costly 
 state, attended by pages and esquires, and accompanied by 
 noble young cavaliers of his countiy, who had enrolled them- 
 selves under his banner, to learn the gentle exercise of arms. 
 In all pageants and festivals, the eyes of the populace were 
 attracted by the singular bearing and rich array of the Eng- 
 lish earl and his train, who prided themselves in always 
 appearing in the garb and manner of their country; and 
 were indeed something very magnificent, delectable, and 
 strange to behold." 
 
 The worthy chronicler is no less elaborate in his description 
 of the masters of Santiago, Calatrava, and Alcantara, and 
 their valiant knights ; armed at all points, and decorated 
 with the badges of their orders. " These," he afiirms, 
 " were the flower of Christian chivalry. Being constantly in 
 sernce, they became more steadfast and accomplished in 
 discipline than the irregular and temporary levies of the 
 feudal nobles. Calm, solemn, and stately, they sat like towers 
 upon their powerful chargers. On parades, they manifested 
 none of the show and ostentation of the other troops. Neither 
 in battle did they endeavour to signalise themselves by any' 
 fiery vivacity, or desperate and vain-glorious exploit ; every- 
 thing with them was measured and sedate ; yet it was 
 observed, that none were more warlike in their appearance in 
 the camp, or more terrible for their achieyements in the field. '^ 
 
CRBISTIAK ARMY OF COBDOTA. 
 
 147 
 
 ith the 
 always 
 langer» 
 ot msh 
 loorish 
 irately, 
 Lt when 
 ed, yet 
 staunch 
 ip with 
 
 iplished 
 ;ch. It 
 ught up 
 ared by 
 the fair 
 ne to be 
 tt costly 
 nied by 
 id them- 
 of arms, 
 ice were 
 he Eng- 
 L always 
 ry ; and 
 )le, and 
 
 Bcription 
 ara, and 
 ecorated 
 
 affirms, 
 tantly in 
 ished in 
 s of the 
 :e towers 
 anifested 
 
 Neither 
 >B by any 
 ;; every- 
 ; it was 
 irance in 
 16 field." 
 
 i 
 
 The gorgeous magnificence of the Spanish nobles found but 
 little favour in the eyes of the sovereigns. They saw, that it 
 caused a competition in expense, ruinous to cavaliers of 
 moderate fortime; and they feared, that a softness and effemi- 
 nacy might thus be introduced, incompatible ^vith the stem 
 natiire of the war. They signified their disapprobation to 
 several of the principal noblemen, and recommended a more 
 sober and soldier- like display while in actual service. 
 
 "These are rare troops for a tourney, my lord," said 
 Ferdinand, to the Duke of Infantado, as he beheld his re- 
 tainers glittering in gold and embroidery ; " but gold, though 
 gorgeous, is soft and yielding : iron is the metal for the 
 field." 
 
 " Sire," replied the duke, " if my men parade in gold, 
 your majesty will find they fight with steel." The king 
 smiled, but shook his head ; and the duke treasured up his 
 speech in his heart. 
 
 It remains now to reveal the immediate object of this 
 mighty and chivalrous preparation ; which had, in fact, the 
 gratification of a royal pique at bottom. The severe lesson 
 which Ferdinand had received from the veteran Ali Atar, 
 before the walls of Loxa, though it had been of great service 
 in rendering him wary in his attacks upon fortified places, 
 yet rankled sorely in his mind ; and he had ever since held 
 Loxa in peculiar odiimi. It was, in truth, one of the most 
 belligerent and troublesome cities on the borders ; incessantly 
 harassing Andalusia by its incursions. It also intervened 
 between the Christian territories and Albania, and other 
 important places, gained in the kingdom of Granada. For all 
 these reasons. King Ferdinand had determined to make 
 another grand attempt upon this warrior city ; and for this 
 purpose he had summoned to the field hi^i most powerfiil 
 chivalry. 
 
 It was in the month of May that the king sallied firom 
 Cordova, at the head of his army. He had twelve thousand 
 cavalry, and forty thousand foot soldiers, with crossbows, 
 lances, and arquebuses. There were six thousand pioneers, 
 with hatchets, pickaxes, and crowbars, for levelling roads. 
 He took with mm, also, a great train of lombards and other 
 hea>-y artillery; with a body of Germans, skilled in the 
 service of ordnance and the art of battering walls. 
 
 " It was a glorious spectacle," s^ys Fray Antonio Agapida, 
 
 l2 
 
 -^n 
 
 I 
 
 ji 
 
 'K 
 
1/ 
 
 lii' 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBAKADA. 
 
 I 
 
 *' to behold this pompoiis pageant issuing forth from Cordova: 
 the pennons and devices of the proudest houses of Spain, 
 with those of gallant stranger knights, fluttering above a sea 
 of crests and i)lumes ; to see it slowly moving, with flash of 
 helmet, and cuirass, and buckler, across the ancient bridge, 
 and reflected in the waters of the Guadalquivir; while the 
 neigh of steed, and the blast of trumpet, vibrated in the air, 
 and resounded to the distant mountains. But, above all," 
 concludes the good father, with his accustomed zeal, " it was 
 triumphant to behold the standard of the faith everywhere 
 displayed ; and to reflect, that this was no worldly-minded 
 army, intent upon some temporal scheme of ambition or 
 revenge ; but a Christian host, bound on a crusade to extir- 
 pate the vile seed of Mahomet from the land, and to extend 
 the pure dominion of the church." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 While perfect unity of object, and harmony of operation, 
 gave power to the Christian arms, the devoted kingdom of 
 Granada continued a prey to internal feuds. The transient 
 popularity of El Zagal had declined ever since the death of 
 his brother, and the party of Boabdil el Chico was daily gain- 
 ing strength. The albaycin and the Alhambra were again 
 arrayed against each other in deadly strife, and the streets of 
 imhappy Granada were daily dyed in the blood of her children. 
 In the midst of these dissensions, tidings arrived of the for- 
 midable army assembling at Cordova. The rival factions 
 paused in their infatuated brawls, and were roused to a tem- 
 porary sense of the common danger. They forthwith resorted 
 to their old expedient of new modelling their government, or 
 rather, of making and unmaking kings. The elevation of EI 
 Zagal to the throne had not produced the desired effect. 
 What, then, was to be done ? Recall Boabdil el Chico, and 
 acknowledge him again as sovereign ? While they were in a 
 popular tumult of deliberation, Hamet Aben Zarrax, smuamed 
 El Santo, arose among them. This was the same wild, 
 melancholy man, M-ho had predicted the woes of Granada. 
 He issued from one of the caverns of the adjacent height, 
 which overhangs the Darro, and has since been called the 
 Holy Moimtain. His appearance was more haggard than 
 ever ; for the unheeded spirit of prophecy seemed to haye 
 
 an 
 
FBE8H COMMOTIONS. 
 
 119 
 
 turned inwardly, and preyed upon his vitals. ♦' Beware, oh 
 Moslems !" exclaimed he, " of men, who aro eager to govern, 
 yet are unable to protect ! Why slaughter each other for 
 El Chico or El Zagal ? Let your kings renounce their contests, 
 and \mite for the salvation of Granada, or let them be deposed!" 
 
 Hamet Aben Zarrax had long been revered as a scint ; he 
 was now considered an oracle. The old men an 1 *he nobles 
 immediately consulted tofrether bow the tw< , rival Ivm^ might 
 be brought to accord. They hid intd most cr.).'cdients: it 
 was now determined to divide uxo k/iig^^om Jxetween them ; 
 giving Granada, Malaga, Velez Malagii, Ahiieria, Alrauiic9ar, 
 and their dependencies, to El ^iig^ii, and the Tcsiduj to 
 Boabdil el Chico. Among the ci'.ks ?,7r?:te(l ij trc Itii.t'^r, 
 Loxa was particularly specified, witli a condition; lliut ho 
 should immediately take counnand of it in persci* ; for the. 
 council thought the favour ?.\3 enjoyed '^ith tlie* CVcbtii^iU 
 monarchs might avert the threatened aft^ick. , 
 
 El Zagal readily accorded to this atia:ag<ta'itii, He had 
 been hastily elevated to the throne by an ebullitioii of the 
 people, and might be as hastily (?nst down again. It pecared 
 him one half of a kingdom to which he hnd no hei'editaiy 
 right, and he trusted to force or fraud to gtiin the other half 
 hereafter. The wily old monarel' even ^ent a deputation to 
 his nephew, making a merit of ojFeriiij.': him cljeoifvliy the 
 half, which he had thus been compelled to relinnwish and In- 
 viting him to enter into an amicable coalition for th*j good oi 
 the country. 
 
 The hetut of Boabdil shrunk from all coiinoxion wivl: a man 
 who had sought his life, anil vhom ho repr?)r<iyd as the mur- 
 derer of his kindred. He a&:Oj^>ie(l ojn half of the kingdom as 
 an offer from the nation, not to bs rejected by a prince, who 
 scarcely held possession of Ihe ground he stood on. He as- 
 serted, nevertheless, hi? absolute light to the M'hole, and only 
 submitted to the p'u^'tion out of anxiety for the present good 
 of his people He assembled his handful of adherents, and 
 prepared to hasten to Loxa. As he moimted his horse to 
 depait, Hamet Aben Zarrax stood suddenly before him. 
 " Be true to thy country and thy faith," cried he : " hold no 
 further communication with these Christian dogs. Trust not 
 the hollow hearted friendship of the Castilian king: he is 
 minii^ the earth beneath thy feet. Choose one of two things : 
 be a sovereign or a slave ; thou canst not be both !" 
 
 n* .: 
 
 
 : I 
 
 I i 
 
 I • 
 
 I'!? 
 
I 
 
 150 
 
 THE CNQUEST OF OBANADA. 
 
 Boabdil ruminated on these words : he made many wise 
 resolutions ; but he was prone always to act from the impulse 
 of the moment, and was unfortunately given to temporize in 
 his policy. He wrote to Ferdinand, informing him, that 
 Loxa and certain other cities had returned to their allegiance, 
 ' and that he held them as vassal to the Castilian crown, ac- 
 cording to their convention. He conjured him, therefore, to 
 refrain from any meditated attack, offering free passage to the 
 Spanish army to Malaga, or any other place under the domi- 
 nion of his uncle.* 
 
 Ferdinand turned a deaf ear to the entreaty, and to all pro- 
 fessions of friendship and vassalage. Boabdil was nothing to 
 him, but as an instrument for stirring up the flames of civil 
 discord. He now insisted, that he had entered into a hostile 
 league with his uncle, and had, consequently, forfeited all 
 claims to his indulgence ; and he prosecuted with the greater 
 earnestness his campaign against the city of Loxa. 
 
 "Thus," observes the worthy Fray Antonio Agapida, "did 
 this most sagacious sovereign act upon the text in the eleventh 
 chapter of the evangelist St. Luke, that ' a kingdom divided 
 agamst itself cannot stand.' " He had induced these infidels 
 to waste and destroy themselves by internal dissensions, and 
 finally cast forth the survivor. While the Moorish monarchs, 
 by their ruinous contests, made good the eld Castilian proverb 
 in cases of ci^al war, " El vencido vencido, y el vencidor 
 l)erdido," " the conquered conquered, and the conqueror 
 undoue.'*f 
 
 M» 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIIL 
 
 The royal army, on its march against Loxa, lay encamped 
 one pleasant evening in May, in a meadow, on the banks of 
 the river Yeguas, around the foot of a lofty clift", called the 
 Rock of the Lovers. The quarters of each r obleman formed, 
 as it were, a separate little encampment ; hi i stately pavilion, 
 surmounted by his fluttering pennon, rising above the sur- 
 rounding touts of his vassals and retainers. A little apart 
 from the others, as it were in proud reserve, was the encamp- 
 ment of the English earl. It was sumptuous in its furniture, 
 and complete in its munitions. Aix-hers, and soldiers armed 
 with battleaxes, kept guard around it ; while above, the 
 * Zurita, lib. xx. c. OS. t Garibay, lib. xl. c. 83. 
 
KING FEBDINAND'S COUNCIL OF WAR. 
 
 15L 
 
 standard of England rolled out its ample folds, and flapped in 
 the evening breeze. 
 
 The mingled sounds of various tongues and nations were 
 heard from the soldiery, as they watered their horses in the 
 stream, or busied themselves round the fires which began to 
 glow, here and there, in the twihght : the gay chanson of the 
 Frenchman, singing of his amours on the pleasant banks of the 
 Loire, or the simny regions of the Garonne ; the broad guttural 
 tones of the German, chanting some doughty kriegcr-lied, or 
 extolling the vintage of the llhine ; the wild romance of the 
 Spaniard, reciting the achievements of the Cid, and many 
 a famous ])assage of the Moorish wars ; and the long and 
 melancholy ditty of the Englishman, treating of some feudal 
 hero or redoubtable outlaw of his distant island. 
 
 On a rising ground, commanding a view of the whole en- 
 campment, stood the ample and magnificent pavilion of the 
 king, with the banner of Castile and Arragon, and the holy 
 standard of the cross erected before it. In this tent were 
 assembled the principal eommunders of tlie army, havii:g 
 been summoned by Ferdinand to a council of war, on receiving 
 tidings, that Boabdil had thrown himself into Loxa, with a 
 considerable reinforcement. After some consultation, it was 
 determined to invest Loxa on both sides : one part of the army 
 was to seize upon the dangerous but commanding height of 
 8anto Albohacin, in front of the city ; while the remainder, 
 making a circuit, should encamp on the o])posite side. 
 
 No sooner was this resolved upon, than the Marquis of Cadiz 
 «tood forth, and claimed the post of dimgcr, on lM>half of him- 
 self and those cavaliers, his companions in arms, who had been 
 compelled to relinquish it by the general retreat of the army 
 on the former siege. The enemy had exulted over them, as if 
 driven from it in disgrace. To regain that perilous height, to 
 tpitch their tents upon it, and to avenge the blood of their 
 \V(Uiant compeer, the master of Culatrava, who had fallen upon 
 ' it, was due to their fame : the marquis demanded, therefore, 
 that they might lead the advance, and secure the height, en- 
 ffaginf? 'O '»old the enemy employed, until tlio main army 
 should take its position on the opiwsite side of the city! 
 
 King Ferdinand readily granted his permission, ujwn which 
 the Count de Cabra begged to be admitted to a share of the 
 enterprise. lie had always \hv\\ accuHtomed to serve in the 
 advance; and now that Uoabdil was in the Held, and a king 
 
 i 
 
 t *^ 
 'i 
 
 Iff 
 
152 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBAMADA. 
 
 I 
 
 was to be taken, he could not content himself with remaining 
 in tlie rear. Ferdinand yielded his consent ; for he was dis- 
 posed to give the good count every opportunity to retrieve his 
 late disaster. 
 
 The English earl, when he heard there was a work of 
 danger in question, was eager to be of the party ; but the 
 king restrained his ardour. " These cavaliers," said he, 
 "conceive that they have an account to settle with their 
 pride. Let them have the enterprise to themselves, my lord: 
 if you follow these Moorish wars long, you will find no lack of 
 perilous service." 
 
 The Marquis of Cadiz and his companions in arms struck 
 their tents before daybreak. They were five thousand horse, 
 and twelve thousand foot, and they marched rapidly along the 
 defiles of the moimtains; the cavaliers being anxious to strike 
 the blow, and get possession of the height of Albohaoin, 
 before the king, with the main army, should arrive to their 
 assistance. 
 
 The city of Loxa stands o i a high hill, between two 
 mountains, on the banks of the Xenil. To attain the height 
 in question, the troops had to pass over a tract of country 
 rugged and broken, and a deep valley, intersected by the 
 canals and water courses, with which the Moors iiTigated 
 their lands. They were extremely embarrassed in this part of 
 their march, and in imminent risk of being cut up in detail, 
 before they could reach the height. The Count de Cabra, 
 with his usual eagerness, endeavoured to push across this 
 valley, in defiance of every obstacle. He, in consequence, 
 soon became entimgled with his cavalry among the canals; 
 but his impatience would not permit him to retrace his steps, 
 and choose a more practicable but circuitous route. Others 
 slowly crossed another part of the valley by the aid of pon- 
 toons ; while the Marquis of Cadiz, Don Alonzo de Aguilar, 
 and the Count de Urona, being more experienced in the 
 ground, from their former campaign, made a circuit round the 
 bottom of the height, and, thus ascending, began to display 
 their squadrons, and elevate tlu'ir banners on the redoubtable 
 post, whicli in the former siege, they had been compelled lo 
 reluctantly to abandon. 
 
THE BOTAL AP.vT APFEABS BEFOBE LOXA. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 153 
 
 The advance of the Christian army upon Loxa threw the 
 wavering Boabdil el Chico into one of his usual dilemmas ; and 
 he was greatly perplexed between his oath of allegiance to the 
 Spanish sovereigns, and his sense of duty to his subjects. His 
 doubts were determined by the sight of the enemy, glittering 
 upon the height of Albohacin, and by the clamours of the 
 people to be led forth to battle. " Allah !" exclaimed he, 
 " thou knowest my heart ; thou knowest I have been true in 
 my faith to this Christian monarch! I have offered to hold 
 Loxa as his vassal, but he has preferred to approach it as an, 
 enemy: on his head be the infraction of our treaty !'* 
 
 Boabdil was not wanting in courage; he only needed 
 decision. When he had once made up his mind, he acted 
 vigorously. The misfortune was, he either did not make it up 
 at all, or he made it up too late. He wLo decides tardily,, 
 generally acts rashly ; endeavouring to compensate, by hurry 
 of action, for slowness of deliberation. Boabdil hastily 
 buckled on his armour, and sallied forth, surroimded by his- 
 guards, and at the head of five hundred horse, und four 
 thousand foot, the flower of his army. Some he detached to 
 skirmish with the Christians, who were scattered and per« 
 plexed in the valley, and to prevent their concentrating their 
 forces; while, with his main body, he pressed forward, to 
 drive the enemy from the height of Albohacin, before they had 
 time to collect there in any number, or to fortify themselves 
 in that important position. 
 
 The worthy Count de Cabra was yet entangled, with his- 
 cavalry, among the water courses of the valley, when he heard 
 the war cries of the Moors, and saw their army rushing over 
 the bridge. He recognised Boabdil himself by his splendid 
 armour, the magnificint caparison of his steed, and the 
 brilliant guard which surrounded him. The royal host swept 
 on towards the height. An intervening hill hid it from his- 
 sight ; but loud shouts and cries, the din of drums and 
 trumpets, and the reports of arquebuses, gave note, that the 
 battle had begun. 
 
 Here wos a royal prize in the field, and the Count do Cabra 
 unable to share in the action ! The good cavalier was in an 
 agony of impatience. Every attempt to force his way across 
 the valley only plunged him into new diiiiculties. At lengthy 
 
 t 
 
 n 
 
154 
 
 THE COXQ17E8T OF GSAKADA. 
 
 
 after many eager but ineflTectual efforts, he was obliged to 
 order his troops to dismount, and slowly and careMly to lead 
 their horses back, along slippery paths, and amid plashed of 
 mire and water, w^re often there was scarcely a foothold. 
 The good coimt groaned in spiiit, and was in a profuse sweat 
 with mere impatience as he went, fearing the battle might be 
 fought, and the prize won or lost, before he could reach the 
 field. Having at length toilfuUy unravelled the mazes of the 
 valley, and anived at firmer ground, he ordered his troops to 
 mount, and led them ftiU gallop to the height. Part of the 
 good count's wishes were satisfied, but the dearesf were dis- 
 appointed. He came in season to partake of the very hottest 
 of the fight, but the royal prize was no longer in the field. 
 
 Boabdil had led on his men with impetuous valour, or 
 rather with hurried rashness. Heedlessly exposing himself 
 in the front of the battle, he received two wounds in the very 
 first encounter. His guards rallied round him, defended him 
 with matchless valour, and bore him bleeding out of the 
 action. The Count de Cabra arrived just in time to see the 
 loyal squadron crossing the bridge, and slowly conveying their 
 disabled monarch towards the gate of the city. 
 
 The departure of Boabdil made no difference in tlie fury of 
 the contest. A Moorish warrior, dark and terrible in aspect, 
 mounted on a black charger, and followed by a band of savage 
 Gomeres, rushed forward to take the lead. It was Ilamet cl 
 Zcgri, the fierce alcayde of Honda, Mith the remnant of his 
 once redoubtable garrison. Animated by his example, the 
 Moors renewed their assaults upon the height. It was bravely 
 defended on one side by the Marquis of Cadiz, on another by 
 Don Alonzo de Aguilar; and as fast as the Moors ascended, 
 they were driven back and dashed down the declivities, llie 
 Count de Urena took his stand upon the i'atal spot where his 
 brother had fallen. His followers entered with zeal into the 
 feelings of their commander ; and heaps of the enemy sunk 
 iK'neath their weaix)ns, sacrifices to the manes of the lamented 
 master of Calatrava. 
 
 The battle continued with incredible obstinacy. The Moors 
 knew the importance of the height to the safety of the city ; 
 the cavaliers felt their honours staked to maintain it. Fresh 
 supplies of troops were poured out of the city ; some battled 
 on the height, while some attacked the Christians who wore 
 still in the valley, and among the orchards and gardens, to 
 
CHABOE OF THK EX0LX8H. 
 
 155 
 
 prerent their uniting their forces. ITie troops in the valley 
 were gradually driven back, and the whole host of the Moors 
 swept around the Albohacin. The situation of the Marquis of 
 Cadiz and his companions was perilous in the extreme ; they 
 were a mere handAil ; and while they were fighting hand to 
 hand with the Moors who assailed the height, they were 
 galled from a distance by the crossbows and arquebuses of a 
 host, that augmented each moment in nimiber. At this 
 critical jimcture, King Ferdinand emerged from the mountains 
 with the main body of the army, and advanced to an emi- 
 nence commanding a full >-icw of the field of action. By his 
 side was the noble English cavalier, the Earl of Rivers. This 
 was the first time he had witnessed a scene of Moorish war- 
 fare. He looked with eager interest at the chance medley 
 fight before him, — the wild career of cavalry, the irregidar 
 and tumultuous rush of infantry, and Christian helm and 
 Moorish turban intermingling in deadly struggle. His high 
 blood mounted at the sight ; and his verj' w)ul was stirred 
 within him, by the conftised war cries, the clangour of drums 
 and trumpets, and the reports of arquebuses, that came 
 echoing up the mountains. Seeing the king was sending a 
 reinforcement to the field, he entreated permission to mingle ia 
 the affray, and fight according to the fashion of his country. 
 His request being granted, he alighted from his steed. Ho 
 was merely armed en bianco ; that is to say, M-ith morion, back- 
 piece, and breast-plate ; his sword was girded by his side, and 
 in his hand he wielded a powerful battlcaxe. He was 
 followed by a body of his yeomen, armed in like manner, and 
 by a band of archers, with bows made of the tough ]']nglish 
 yew tree. The earl tiuned to his troops, and addressed them 
 briefly and bluntly, according to the manner of his countr}'. 
 *' Remember, my merry men all," said he, "the eyes of 
 strangers are upon you ; you are in a foreign land, fighting 
 for the glory of God, and the honour of merry old England !" 
 A loud sliout was the reply. The earl waved his battieaxc 
 over his head. " St. George for England !" cried he ; and, to 
 the inspiring sound of this old English war cry, he and his 
 followers rushed down to the battle, with manly and coura- 
 geous hearts.* 
 
 'ITiey soon made their way into the midst of the enemy ; but, 
 when engaged in the hottest of the fight, they made uo nhouts 
 
 * Cura de loB Palaclog. 
 
 t :1 
 
 
 'hi 
 
 ! hi P 
 
 'ill 
 ' 'if 
 
 ":|l 
 
 fiS 
 
 * ■; 
 Mi 
 
 
f 
 
 156 
 
 XHE CONQUEST OF OBAKADA. 
 
 ' 
 
 or outcries. They pressed steadily forward, dealing their 
 blows to right and left, hewing down the Moors, and cutting 
 their way with their battlcaxes, like woodmen in a forest ; 
 while the archers, pressing into the opening they made, plied 
 their bows vigorously, and spread death on every side. 
 
 When the Castilian moimtaineers beheld the valour of 
 the English yeomanry, they would not be out-done in 
 hardihood. They could not vie with them in weight and 
 bulk, but for vigour and activity they were surpassed by 
 none. They kept pace with them, therefore, with equal heart 
 and rival prowess, and gave a brave support to the stout 
 islanders. 
 
 The Moors were confounded by the fury of these assaults, 
 and disheartened by the loss of Hamet el Zegri, who was 
 carried wounded from the field. They gradually fell back 
 upon the bridge : the Christians followed up their advantage, 
 and drove them over it tumultuously. The Moors retreated 
 into the suburb, and Lord Rivers and his troops, entered with 
 them pell mell, fighting in the streets and in the houses. 
 King Ferdinand came up to the scene of action with his 
 royal guard, and the infidels were all driven within the city 
 walls. Thus were the suburbs gained by the hardihood of 
 the English lord, without such an event having been pre- 
 meditated.* 
 
 The Earl of Rivers, notwithstanding he had received a 
 wound, still urged foi-ward in the attack. He penetrated 
 almost to the city gate, in defiance of a shower of missiles, 
 that slew many of his followers. A stone, hurled from the 
 battlements, checked his impetuous career. It struck him 
 in the face, dashed out two of his front teeth, and laid him 
 senseless on the earth. He was removed to a short distance 
 by his men; but, recovering his senses, refused to permit 
 himself to be taken from the suburb. 
 
 When the contest was over, the streets presented a piteous 
 spectacle, so ninny of their inhabitants had died in the defence 
 of their threshholds, or been slaughtered without resistance. 
 Among the victims was a poor weaver, who had been at 
 work in his dwelling at this turbulent moment. His wife 
 urged him to fly into the city. " Why should I fly ?" said 
 the Moor, "to be reserved for hunger and slavery? I tell you, 
 wife, I will abide here ; for bettor is it to die quickly by the 
 * Cuni dc los Palocios, MS. 
 
 
OPEN IN G OF THE BKEACHINO BATTERIES. 
 
 157 
 
 steel, than to perish piecemeal in chains and dungeons." 
 He said no more, but resumed his occupation of weaving ; 
 [ and, in the indiscriminate fury of the assault, was slaughtered 
 
 at his loom.* 
 
 The Christians remained masters of the field, and pro- 
 ceeded to pitch three encampments for the prosecution of the 
 siege. The king, with the great body of the army, took a 
 position on the side of the city next to Granada. ITie 
 Marquis of Cadiz and his brave companions once more pitched 
 their tents upon the height of Santo Albohacin; but the 
 English earl planted his standard sturdily within the suburb 
 he had taken. 
 
 h:: m 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 Having possession of the heights of Albohacin, and the 
 suburb of the city, the Christians were enabled to choose the 
 most favourable situations for their batteries. ITicy inmie- 
 diately destroyed the stone bridge, by which the garrison 
 had made its sallies; and they threw two wooden bridges 
 across the river, and others over the canals and streams, so as 
 to establish an easy communication between the different 
 camps. 
 
 When all was arranged, a heavy fire was opened upon the 
 city from various points. They threw not only balls of stone 
 and iron, but great carcasses of fire, which burst like meteors 
 on the houses, wrapping them instantly in a blaze. The walls 
 were shattered, and the towers toppled down by tremendous 
 discharges from the lombards. ITirough the openings thus 
 made, they could behold the interior of the city ; houses 
 tumbling down or in flames; men, women, and children 
 flying in terror through the streets, and slaughtered by the 
 snowers of missiles sent through these openings from smaller 
 artiUery, and from crossbows and arquebuses. 
 
 The Moors attempted to repair the breaches ; but fresh 
 discharges from the lombards buried them beneath the ruins 
 of the walls they were mending. In their despair, many of 
 the inhabitants rushed forth into the narrow streets of the 
 suburbs, and assailed the Christians with darts, cimeters, and 
 poniards ; seeking to destroy rather than defend, and heed- 
 less of death, in the confidence, that to die fighting with an 
 unbeliever was to be translated at once to paradise. 
 * Fulgur, part iii. cap. 68. 
 
158 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBANAPA. 
 
 
 For two nights and a day this awful scene continued ; when 
 certain of the principal inhabitants began to reflect upon the 
 hopelessness of resistance. Their king was disabled ; their 
 principal captains were either killed or wounded; their 
 fortifications little better than heaps of ruins. They had 
 urged the unfortunate Boabdil to the conflict; they now. 
 clamoured for a capitidation. A parley was procured from 
 the Christian monarch, and the terms of surrender were soon 
 adjusted. They were to yield up the city immediately, with 
 all their Christian captives, and to sally forth with as much 
 of their property as they coidd take with them. The Mar- 
 quis of Cadiz, on whose honour and humanity they had great 
 reliance, was to escort them to Granada, to protect them 
 from assault or robbery. Such as chose to remain in Spain 
 were to be permitted to reside in Castile, Arragon, or Valencia. 
 As to Boabdil el Chico, he was to do homage as vassal to 
 King Ferdinand; but no charge was to be urged against 
 him, of having violated his former pledge. If he should 
 yield up all pretensions to Granada, the title of Duke of 
 Guadix was to be assigned him, and the territory thereto 
 annexed, provided it should be recovered from £1 Zagal withiiv 
 six months. 
 
 The capitulation being arranged, they gave as hostages the 
 alcayde of the city, and the principal officers, together with 
 the sons of their late chieftain, the veteran AU Atar. The 
 waniors of Loxa then issued forth, humbled and dejected, 
 at having to surrender those walls, which they had so long 
 maintained with valour and renown; and the women and 
 children filled the air with lamentations, at being exiled from 
 their native homes. 
 
 Last came forth Boabdil, most truly called £1 Zogoybi, the 
 unlucky. Accustomed, as he had been, to be crowned and 
 uncrowned ; to be ransomed, and treated as a nmtter of bar- 
 gain, he had acceded of course to the capitulation. He was 
 enfeebled by his woimds, and had an air of dejection ; yet, it 
 is said, his conscience acquitted him of a breach of faith 
 towards the Castilian sovereigns ; and the personal valour he 
 had displayed had caused a s}inpathy for him among many 
 of the Christian cavaliers. He kneeled to Ferdinand, ac- 
 cording to the forms of vassalage, and then departed in 
 melancholy mood for Pricgo, a town about three leagues 
 distant. Ferdinand immediately ordered Loxa to be re- 
 
 mer 
 
 cious 
 
 commt 
 tress ti 
 the agj 
 does i| 
 house 
 dischaj 
 Kinl 
 He 
 buted 
 invest I 
 alcayc 
 
SIEGE OF ILLOBA. 
 
 159 
 
 paired and strongly garrisoned. He was greatly elated 
 at the capture of this place, in consequence of his for* 
 mer defeat before its walls. He passed gi-eat enconiums 
 upon the commanders who had distinguished themselves; 
 and historians dwell particularly vpon his visit to the 
 tent of the English earl. His majesty consoled him foi* 
 the los s of his teeth, by the consideration, that he might 
 otherwise have b<!en deprived of them by natural decay: 
 whereas the lack of them would now be esteemed a beauty 
 rather than a defect; 8er>'ing as a trophy of the glorious 
 cause in which he had been engaged. 
 
 The earl replie«i, " that he gave thanks to God and to the 
 holy Virgin for being thus honoured by a visit from the most 
 potent king in Christendom; that he accepted, with all grati- 
 tude, his gracious consolation for the loss he had su.<itained; 
 though he held it little to lose two teeth in the service of God, 
 who had given him all." 
 
 " A speech," says Fray Antonio Agapida, " full of most 
 courtly wit and Christian piety ; and one only marvels that it 
 shoiUd be made by a native of an island so far distant from 
 Castile." 
 
 ■;!<■? 
 
 y>.- 
 
 i:f Ji 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 Kino Febdikaicd followed up his victorj'^ at Loxa by lay- 
 ing siege to the strong town of lUora. This redoubtable 
 fortress was perched upon a high rock, in the midst of a spa- 
 cious valley. It was within four leagues of the Moorish 
 capital ; and its lofty castle, keeping vigilant watch over a 
 wide circuit of country, was termed the right eye of Granada. 
 
 The alcayde of Illora was one of the bravest of the Moorish 
 commanders, and made every preparation to defend his for-< 
 tress to the last extremity. He sent the women and children^ 
 the aged and infirm, to the metropolis. He placed barrica- 
 does in the suburbs, opened doors of communication from 
 house to house, and pierced their walls with loopholes, for the 
 discharge of crossbows, arquebuses, and other missiles. 
 
 King Ferdinand arrived before the place with all his forces. 
 He stationed himself upon the hill of Encinilla, and distri- 
 buted the other encampments in various situations, so as to 
 invest the fortress. Knowing the valiant character of the 
 alcayde, and the desperate courage of the Moors, he ordered 
 
 M 
 
-nr-^ 
 
 160 
 
 CONQUEST OF GBAXADA. 
 
 the encampments to be fortified with trenches and palisadoes, 
 the guards to be doubled, and sentinels to be placed in all the 
 watchtowers of the adjacent heights. 
 
 When all was ready, the Duke del Infantado demanded the 
 attack. It was his first campaign ; and he was anxious to 
 disprove the royal insinuation made against the hardihood of 
 his embroidered chivalry. King Ferdinand granted his de- 
 mand, with a becoming compliment to his spirit. He ordered 
 liie Count de Cabra to make a simultaneous attack upon a 
 difterent quarter. Both chiefs led foith their troops. Those 
 of the duke were in fresh and brilliant armour, richly orna- 
 mented, and as yet uninjured by the service of the field. 
 Those of the coimt were weatherbeaten veterans, whose ar- 
 mour was dinted and hacked in many a hard fought battle. 
 The youthful duke blushed at the contrast. " Cavaliers !" 
 cried he, " w^e have been reproached with the finery of our 
 arms : let us prove that a trenchant blade may rest in a gilded 
 sheath. Forward ! to the foe ! and I trust in God, that, as 
 we enter this aflray knights well accoutred, so we shall leave 
 it cavaliers well proved !" His men responded by eager ac- 
 clamations, and the duke led them forward to the assault. 
 He advanced under a tremendous shower of stones, darts, 
 balls, and arrows ; but nothing could check his career. He 
 entered the suburb sword in hand ; his men fought furiously, 
 though with great loss ; for every dwelling had been turned 
 into a fortress. After a severe conflict, they succeeded in 
 driving the Moors into the town, about the same time that 
 the other suburb was canned by the Count de Cabra and his 
 veterans. The troops of the Duke del Infantado came out of 
 the contest thinned in number, and covered with blood, and 
 dust, and wounds. They received the highest encomiums of 
 the king ; and there was never afterwards any sneer at their 
 embroidery. 
 
 The suburbs being taken, three batteries, each furnished 
 with eight large lombards, were opened upon the fortress. 
 The damage and havock were tremendous ; for the fortifica- 
 tions had not been constructed to withstand such engines. 
 The towers were overthrown ; the walls battered to pieces ; 
 the interior of the place was all exposed ; houses demolished, 
 and many people slain. The Moors were terrified by the 
 tumbling ruins and the tremendous din. The alcayde had 
 resolved to defend the place imto the last extremi^. He be- 
 
PROGRESS OF QUEEN ISABELLA. 
 
 161 
 
 isadoes, 
 L all the 
 
 ided the 
 tious to 
 ihood of 
 his de- 
 ordered 
 I upon a 
 Those 
 dy oma- 
 he field, 
 hose ar- 
 at battle, 
 valiers !" 
 ry of our 
 I a gilded 
 . that, as 
 hall leave 
 eager ac- 
 } assault. 
 es, darts, 
 eer. He 
 furiously, 
 en turned 
 ceeded in 
 time that 
 I and his 
 me out of 
 >lood, and 
 )miums of 
 T at their 
 
 furnished 
 ; fortress. 
 ) fortifica- 
 i engmes. 
 o pieces; 
 ^molished, 
 ed by the 
 sayde had 
 Hebe- 
 
 held it a heap of rubbish ; there was no prospect of aid from 
 Granada ; his people had lost all spirit to fight, and were vo- 
 ciferous for a surrender, Witli u reluctant heart he capitu- 
 lated. The inhabitants were permitted to depart witii all 
 their eftects, excepting their amns; and were escorted in safety, 
 by the Duke del Iiifaiitado and the Count do Cabra, to the 
 bridge of Pinos, within two leagues of Granada. 
 
 King Ferdinand gave directions to repair the fortifications 
 of Illora, and to place it in a strong state of defence. He 
 left, as alcayde of the town and fortress, Gonzalvo de Cordova, 
 younger brother of Don Alonzo de Aguilar. This gallant 
 cavalier was captain of the royal guards of Ferdinjind and 
 Isabella, and gave already proof's of that prowess, which after- 
 wards rendered him so renowned. 
 
 i 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 The war of Granada, however poets may embroider it with 
 the flowers of their fancy, was certainly one of the sternest 
 of those iron conflicts, which have been celebrated under the 
 name of holy wars. The worthy Fray Antonio Agapida 
 dwells with unsated delight upon the succession of rugged 
 mountain enterprises, bloody battles, and merciless sackings 
 and ravages, which characterize it ; yet we find him, on one 
 occasion, pausing, in the full career of victory over the in- 
 fidels, to detail a stately pageant of the Catholic sovereigns. 
 
 Immediately on the capture of Loxa, Ferdinand had written 
 to Isabella, soliciting her presence at the camp, that he might 
 consult with her as to the disposition of their newly acquired 
 territories. 
 
 It was in the early part of June, that the queen departed 
 from Cordova, with the Princess Isabella, and numerous ladies 
 of her court. She had a glorious attendance of cavaliers 
 and pages, with many guards and domestics. There were 
 forty mules for the use of the queen, the princess, and their 
 train. 
 
 As this courtly cavalcade approached the Hock of the 
 Lovers, on the banks of the river Ycguas, they beheld a 
 splendid train of knights advancing to meet them. It was 
 headed by that accomplished cavalier, the Marquis Duke de 
 Cadiz, accompanied by the adclimtado of Andalusia. He had 
 left the camp the day after the capture of Illora, and advanced 
 
 H!M 
 
 
162 
 
 THE COXQUEST OF CRAXABA. 
 
 thus far to receive the queen, and escort her over the borders, 
 Tlie queen received the marquis with distinjjuished honour; 
 for ho was esteemed as the mirror of chivalry. His actions 
 in tliis war had become the theme of every tonj3;ue, and many 
 hesitated not to compare him in prowess to the immortal Cid.* 
 
 Thus "gallantly attended, the queen entered the vanquished 
 frontier of Granada, journeying securely alonj^ the pleasant 
 banks of the Xenil. so lately subject to the scourings of tho 
 Moors. She stopped at Loxa, ^vliere she administered aid 
 and consolation to the wounded, distributini; money among 
 them for their support, according to their rank. 
 
 The king, after the capture of Illora, had removed his 
 camp before the fortress of Moclin, with an intention of be- 
 sieging it. Thither the queen proceeded, still escorted 
 throutrh the mountain i-oads by the Marquis of Cadiz. As 
 Isabella drew near to the camp, the Duke del Infantado 
 issued forth a league and a half to receive her, magnificently 
 arrayed, and followed by all his chivalry in glorious attire. 
 With him came the standard of Seville, borne by the men-at- 
 arms of that renowned citv, and the prior of St. Juan, with 
 his followers. They arranged themselves in order of battle, 
 on the left of the road by which the queen was to pass. The 
 worthy Agapida is loyally minute in his description of the 
 state and grandeur of the Catholic sovereigns. The queen 
 rode a chesnut mule, seated in a magnificent saddle chair, 
 decorated with silver gilt. The housings of the mule were of 
 fine crimson cloth ; the borders embroidered with gold ; the 
 reins and head-piece were of satin, curiously embossed with 
 needlework of silk, and wrought with golden letters. The 
 queen wore a brial or royal skirt of velvet, under which were 
 others of brocade ; a scarlet mantle, ornamented in the 
 moi'csco fashion, and a black hat embroidered round the 
 crown and brim. 
 
 The Infanta was likewise mounted on a chesnut mule, 
 richly caparisoned. She wore a biial or skirt of black brocade, 
 and a black mantle, ornamented like that of the queen. 
 
 When the royal cavalcade passed by the chivalry of the 
 Duke del Infantado, which Mas drawn out in battle array, 
 the queen made a revcience to the standard of Seville, and 
 ordered it to pass to the right hand. When she approached 
 the camp, the multitude ran forth to meet her, with great 
 
 • Cura de los Palacios. 
 
QI7EEN ISABELLA. AT TilE CAMP. 
 
 163 
 
 jnlers, 
 )nour ; 
 ictions 
 many 
 iCid.* 
 uished 
 leasant 
 of tho 
 ■ed aid - 
 among 
 
 red his 
 I of be- 
 'scorted 
 iz. As 
 ifantado 
 ificontly 
 s attire, 
 men-at- 
 in, with 
 : battle, 
 ss. The 
 n of the 
 le qiieen. 
 
 e chair, 
 
 were of 
 old; the 
 
 ed with 
 rs. The 
 
 ich were 
 in the 
 
 und the 
 
 ut m\xle, 
 : brocade, 
 en. 
 
 ry of the 
 tie array, 
 ville, and 
 preached 
 ith great 
 
 demonstrations of joy ; for she wa« universally beloved by 
 her subjects. All the battalions sallied forth in military 
 array, bearing; the various standards and banners of the 
 camp, which were lowered in salutiition as she passed. 
 
 The king now appeared, in royal state, mounted on a 
 superb chesnut horee, and attended by many grandees of 
 Castile. He wore a j«>Umi or close vest of crimson cloth, 
 with cuisses or short skii i.s of yellow satin ; a loose cassock 
 of brocade, a rich Moorish cimeter, and a hat with plumes. 
 The fjrandecs who attended him were arrayed with wonderful 
 mag^nificence, each according to his taste and invention. 
 
 " These high and mighty princes,' says Antonio Agapida, 
 *' regarded each other with great deference as allied sove- 
 reigns, rather than with connubial familiarity as mere hus- 
 band and wife, when they approached each other : therefore, 
 before embracing, they made three profound reverences ; the 
 queen, taking off her hat, and remaining in a silk net or 
 cawl, with her face uncovered. The king then approached, 
 and embraced her, and kissed her respectfully on the cheek. 
 He also embraced his daughter the princess, and, making the 
 sign of the cross, he blessed her. and kissed her on the lips."* 
 
 The good Agapida seems scarcely to have been more struck 
 •with the appearance of the sovereigns, than with thiit of the 
 English earl. " He followed,' says he, " immediately after 
 the king, with great pomp, and in an extraordinary manner, 
 taking precedence of all the rest. He was mounted, d la guisa, 
 or with long stirrups, on a superb chesnut horsi% with trap- 
 pings of azure silk, which reached to the giound. The hous- 
 ings were of mulberry, powdered with stars of gold. He 
 was armed in proof, and wore over his armour a short French 
 mantle of black brocade. Ho had a white French hat with 
 plumes ; and earned on his left arm a small round buckler, 
 banded with gold. Five pages attended him, apparelled in 
 silk and brocade, and mounted on horses sumptuously capa- 
 risoned. He had also a train of followers, attired after the 
 fashion of his country," 
 
 He advanced in a chivalrous and courteous manner, making 
 his reverences first to the queen and Infuuta, and afterwards to 
 the king. Queen Isabella received him graciously, compli- 
 menting him on his courageous conduct at Loxa. and condol- 
 ing with him on the loss of his teeth. The earl, howevet, 
 
 * Cum de los Palacios. 
 
 H 2 
 
 iU\ 
 
 " f 
 
164 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GKA.NADA. 
 
 made lijjfht of his disfifj^iiring wound : saying^, that " our 
 blessed Lord, who liad built all that house, had opened a 
 window there, that he nii^ht see more readily what passed 
 within.'* Whereupon, the worthy Fray Antonio Agapidais 
 more than ever astonished at the preji^nant Mit ( f this island 
 cavalier. The earl continued some little distance by the side 
 of the royal family, coinplimentin«>: them all with courteous 
 speeches, his steed curveting and caracoling, but uiaiiaj^ed 
 with j>reat fj;race and dexterity, leavinj; the grandees and the 
 people at lar<;e not more filled with admiration at the strange- 
 ness and magnificence of his state, than at the excellence of 
 his horsemanship.! 
 
 To testify her sense of the gallantry and services of this 
 noble English knight, who had come from so far to assist in 
 their wars, the queen sent him, the next day, presents of 
 twelve horses, with stately tents, fine linen, two beds, with 
 coverings of gold brocade, and many other articles of great 
 value. 
 
 Having refreshed himself, as it were, with the description 
 of this progress of Queen Isabella to the camp, and the glo- 
 rious pomp of the Catholic sovereigns, the worthy Antonio 
 Agapida returns, with renewed relish, to his pious work of 
 discomtiting the Moors. J 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 "The Catholic sovereigns," says Tray Antonio Agapida, 
 " had by this time closely clipped the right wing of the 
 Moorish vulture." In other words, most of the strong for- 
 tresses along the western frontier of (iraiuula had fallen be- 
 neath the Christian artillery. The army now lay encamped 
 before the town of Moclin, on the frontier of Jaen, one of the 
 most stubborn fortresses of the border. It stood on a high 
 
 * Pietro Martyr. Episi. 61 . t Cnra dc loa Palacios. 
 
 J The description of this royal pogeant, and the particulars concern- 
 ing the Kn^liHih carl, aj^ree prcciHcly with the ciironicle of Andres 
 Bornaldes, the ciinite of Lor Palacios. The Kngli»h earl makes no 
 further figure In this war. It appears from various histories, that he 
 returned in the cour^o of the year to England. In the following year, 
 his pas-oion for fighting took him to the Continent, at the head of four 
 hundred adventurcn, in aid of Francis, Duke of Brittany, againsi 
 Louis XI of France. He was killed, in the same year (U88), in tho 
 bftttle of St. Albtn s, bctweco the Bretoiu and the French. 
 
pi 
 
 SIEGE OF MOCLIN, 
 
 165 
 
 gapida, 
 I of the 
 ivr for- 
 Ion be- 
 |;am]K?d 
 of the 
 lu high 
 
 bonccrn- 
 I Andrea 
 jikcB no 
 llhat he 
 \g year, 
 lof four 
 IftRftinai 
 in th« 
 
 rocky hill, the base of which was nearly girdled by a river. 
 A thick forest protected the back part of the town towardn 
 the mountain. Thus stron<;ly situate, it domineered, with its 
 frowning battlements and ma.ssive towers over all the moun- 
 tain passes into that part of the country, and was called the 
 Shield of Granada. It had a double arrear of blood to settle 
 with the Christians. Two hundred years before, a nuister o? 
 Santiago and all his cavaliers had been lanced by the Moors 
 before its gates. It had recently made tcn-ible slaughter 
 among the troops of the good Count de Cabra, in his precipi- 
 tate attempt to entrap the old Moorish monarch. Tlie pride 
 of Ferdinand had been piqued, by being obliged, on that occa- 
 sion, to recede from his plan, and abandon his concerted at- 
 tack on the place. lie was now prei)ared to take a full revenge. 
 El Zagal, the old warrior king of (iranada, autiei])ating a 
 second attempt, had provided tlu' place with ample munitions 
 and provision ; had ordered trenches to be dug. and addi- 
 tional bulwarks thrown up, and caused all the old men, the 
 women, and the children, to be removed to the c ijutal. 
 
 Such was the strength of the fortress, and the difliculties of 
 its position, that Ferdinand anticipated miu'h troid)lo in re- 
 ducing it, and made every preparation for a r(>gular siege. In 
 the centre of his camp were two great mounds, owe of sjicks of 
 flour, the other of grain, which were called the royal granary. 
 Three batteries of heavy ordnance were opened against the 
 citadel and principal lowers, while smaller artillery, engines 
 for the discharge of missiles, anpiebuses, and crossbows, were 
 distributed in various j)laces, to keep up a fire into any breach 
 that might be made, an(i upon those of the garrison, wlio 
 shoidd appear on the battUnuMits. 
 
 The lombards so<m nmde an impression on the works, de 
 molishing a part of the wall, and tumbling down several of 
 those haughty towers, which, from their height, had been 
 impregnable before the inventi(.n of gunpowder. Tlu- Moors 
 rejjaired their walls as well as they were able, and, still con- 
 fiding in the strength of their situation, kept up a resolute 
 defence, firinj; down from tlieir loltv battlenu'uts and towers 
 upon the Christian camp. For two nights an<l a day an in- 
 cessant fire was kept up. so that there was not a nionu'nt in 
 which the roaring of ordnance was not beard, or soi..e <lamage 
 sustained by the Christians or .he Moors. It was u conflict, 
 however, nuire of engineer;, and artillerist."' than of gallant 
 
 n . ;'*■ 
 
 % i I 
 
 'i \i 
 
 I If 
 
 i^'! 
 
 
 m 
 
 i^ 
 
166 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBANADA. 
 
 cavaliers ; there was no sally of troops, or shock of armed 
 men, or rush and char<j;e of cav.ilry. The knights stood look- 
 ing on with idle weiipons, waiting until they should have an 
 opportunity of signalizing their prowess, by scaling the walls 
 or storming the breaches. As the place, however, was as- 
 sailable only in one part, there was every prospect of a long 
 and obstinate resistance. 
 
 The engines, as usual, discharged not only balls of stone 
 and iron, to demolish the walls, but flaming balls of inextin- 
 guishable combustibles, designed to set fire to the houses. 
 One of these, which passed high through the air, like a meteor, 
 sending out sparks, and crackling as it went, entered the 
 window of a tower, which was used as a magazine of gun- 
 powder. The tower blew up with a tremendous explosion ; 
 the Moors, who were upon its battlements, were hurled into 
 the air, and fell raarigled in various parts of the town ; and 
 the houses in its vicinity were rent and overthrown, as with 
 an earthquake. 
 
 The Moors, who had never witnessed an explosion of this 
 kind, ascribed the destruction of the tower to a miracle. Some 
 who had sein the descent of the flaming ball, imagined that 
 fire had fallen from heaven, to punish them for their pertina- 
 city. The pious Agapida himself believes, that this fiery 
 missive was conducted by divine agency, to confound the infi- 
 dels. An opinion in which ue is supported by other Catholic 
 historians.* 
 
 Seeing heaven and earth as it were combined against 
 them, the Moors lost all heart, and ca})itulated ; and were 
 permitted to depart with their effects, leaving behind all 
 arms and munitions of war. 
 
 "The Catholic army," says Antonio At^npida, 'entered 
 Moolin in solemn state, not as a licentious host, intent upon 
 plunder aiul desolation, but as a band of Christian warriors, 
 coining to pinify and regeneiate the land. The standard of 
 the cross, that (>nsign of this holy crtwade, was borne in the 
 advance, f()llow(ul by the other banners of the army. Then 
 came the king and queen, at the head of a vast number of armed 
 cavaliers. 1 liey were areomj)anied by a band of priests and 
 friars, with the choir of the royal chapel, chantinu: the can- 
 ticle jT' Ih'um laudamus. As they were moving through the 
 
 * Piilprnr. Qaribay. Lucio Marino Sicu'o, Cusaa Mcmorub. do 
 UitpAii. lib. XX. 
 
CAPTURE OF MACLIX. 
 
 167 
 
 streets in this solemn manner, every »ound hushed, cxccptiiif^ 
 the anthem of the ehoir, they suddenly heard, issuing as it 
 ■were from under ground, a ehorus of voiees, ehantiug the 
 solemn response, Benedictum qui venit in nomine Domini.* 
 The proeession i)aused in wonder. The sounds arose from 
 Christian captives, and among them several priests, who 
 were conBncd in subterraneous dungeons. 
 
 The heart of Isabella was greatly touched ; she ordered 
 the captives to be drawn forth fiom their cells, and was still 
 more moved at beholding, by their van, discoloured, and 
 emaciated appearance, how nmch they had suffered. Their 
 hair and beards were overgrown and shagged ; they were 
 wasted by hunger, and were hidf naked, and in chains. She 
 ordered, that they shovdd be clothed and cherished, and 
 money furnished them to bear them to their homes. f 
 
 Several of the captives were brave cavaliers, who h.id been 
 wounded and made pris(mers, in tlie (U'feat of the Count de 
 Cabra, by El Zagal, in the ju'cceding year. There were also 
 foimd other melancholy traces of that disastrous affair. On 
 visiting the narrow pass, wiiere the defeat had taken place, 
 the remains of several Christian warriors were I'ouud in 
 thickets, or hidden behind rocks, or in the clefts of the moun- 
 tains. There were some, wiio had been struck from their 
 horses, and wounded too severely to fly. Tliey had crawled 
 away from the scene of action, and concealed tlu'mselves, to 
 avoid filing into the hands of the enemy, and had thus 
 perishod miserably and alone. The remains of those of note 
 were known by their armour and devices, and were momiied 
 over by their companions, who had shared the disasters c*' 
 that day. J 
 
 The queen had these remains piously collected, as the 
 relics of so many martyrs, who had fallen in the cause of the 
 faith. They were interred, with great solemnity, in tin- 
 mosques of Mo«'lin, which had been ])urilie<l, and ceaseerateU 
 to Christian worship. " Tlu ," says Anto'.Io Agapida, 
 "rest the bones of tliose truly Catholic knights, in the holy 
 ground, which, in a ntanner, has been saiictilied by their 
 blood ; and all pilgrims. Massing through tho.si' nkountains, 
 offer up pia\er8 and masses lor the rejM)se of their souia." 
 
 • Miirino Siculo. 
 
 + lllcmiis, Hist. I'onfiff lib. vi. c. 20, iiect. 21. 
 ' $ I'ulgar, |Hurt iii. cap. 61. 
 
 1 
 
 
 t f 
 
 '* (■■; 
 
 :V 1 
 
 i, ; 4 
 
f-^' ■»^* 
 
 1G8 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 The queen remnincd for some time at Moclin, administer- 
 ing comfort to the wounded and the prisoners, bi'nging the 
 newly- acquired territory into order, and foundii'g churches 
 and monasteries, and other pious institutions. " While the 
 king marched in front, laying waste the land of the Philis- 
 tines," says the figurative Antonio Agapida, '* Queen Isabella 
 followed his tracts, as the binder follows the reaper, gather- 
 ing the rich harvest that lias fallen beneath his sickle. In 
 this she was greatly assisted by the councils of that cloud of 
 bishops, friars, and chrgymcn, besides other saintly person- 
 ages, \\hich continually surrounded her, garnering the first 
 fruits of tliis infidel land into the gi'anaries of the church." 
 Leaving her thus piously emjdoyed, the king pursued his 
 career of conquest, determined to lay waste the vega, and 
 carry fire and sword to the very gates of Granada. 
 
 CIIAl'TER XLiy. , . 
 
 MuLEY Audalla el Zaoal had been under a spell of ill 
 fortune, ever since the suspicious death of the old king his 
 brother. Success had deserted his standard, and, with his 
 fickle subjects, want of success was one of the greatest crimes 
 in a sovereign. He found his popularity declining, and he 
 lost all confidence in his people. The Christian army 
 marched in open defiance through his territories, and sat 
 down deliberately before his fortressses ; yet he dared not 
 lead forth his legions to oppose them, lest the inhabitants of 
 the albayein, ever ripe for a revolt, should rise, and shut the 
 gates of Ciranada against his return. 
 
 Every few days some melancholy train eetered the metro- 
 polis, the inliabitants of some captured town, l>earing the 
 few efi'ects that had been spared them, and weeping and be- 
 wailing th(> desolation of their homes. When the tidings 
 arrived, that llU)ra and Moelin had fallen, the people were 
 seized with coustt'rnation. "The right eye of Granada is 
 extinguislud ! " exclaimed they; "the shield of Gmnada is 
 broken ! win t shall ])rot('t't us from the inroad of the fot' ?" 
 When the survivors oi" the garrisons of those towns ariived, 
 with downcast looks, bearing the marks of battle, and desti- 
 tute of arms and standards, the ])opulace revilod them in 
 their wrath : but tlu-y answered, " We fought as long as we 
 had force to figlit, or Malls to shelter us ; but the Christians 
 
dof 
 
 FOBAY OF THE VEGA. 
 
 169 
 
 laid our towers and battlements in ruins, and >ve looked in 
 vain for aid from Granada." 
 
 The alcaydes of lUora and Moelin were brothers ; they 
 were alike in prowess, and the bravest among the Moorish 
 cavaliers. They had been the most distinguished in all tilts 
 and tourneys, which graced the happier days of Granada, and 
 had distinguished themselves in the sterner conflicts of the 
 field. Acclamation had always followed their banners, and 
 they had long been the delight' of the people. Now, when 
 they returned, after the capture of their fortresses, they were 
 followed by the unsteady j)opul;ice with execrations. The 
 hearts of the alcaydes swelled with indignation ; they found 
 the ingratitude of their countrymen still more intolerable than 
 the hostility of the Christians. Tidings came, that the enemy 
 was advancing with his triumphant legions, to lay waste the 
 country about Granada. Still El Zagal did not dare to take 
 the field. The two alcaydes of Illora and Moelin stood before 
 him. '• We have defended your fortresses," said tliey, 
 " until we were almost buried under their ruins ; and for our 
 reward, we receive scoffs and revilings. Give us, O king, 
 an opportunity in which knightly valour may signalize 
 itself; not shut up behind stone walls, but in the open con- 
 flict of the field ! The enemy approaches, to lay our country 
 desolate. Give us men to meet him in the advance ; and let 
 shame light upon our heads if we be found wanting in the 
 battle!" 
 
 1'he two brothers were sent forth with a large force of 
 horse and foot. El Zagal intended, should they be successful, 
 to issue out with his whole force ; and, by a decisive victory, 
 repair the losses he had suffered. When the people saw 
 the well-known standards of the brothers going forth to battle, 
 there was a feeble shout; but the alcaydes passed (m 
 with stem countenances ; for they knew the sauje voices 
 would curse them were they to return ujifortunate. They 
 cast a farewell look upon fair Granada, and upon the beautiful 
 fields of tlieir infancy, as if for these they were willing to lay 
 down ibeir lives, but not for an luigiatelul people. 
 
 The army of Ferdinand had arrive d within two leagues of 
 (iranada, at the bridge of I'inos, a pass famous in the wars 
 of the Moors and Christians for many a bloody conflict. It 
 was the p is by >vhich the Cnstilian tnonurehs jicnerully made 
 tiiieir inroalw, and was capable of great defence, fron» the 
 
 I'' 
 
 •'If 
 
 I:' 
 
 f^ll 
 
 
 m 
 
 
170 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBANADA. 
 
 ruggedness of the countr}', and the difficulty of the bridge. 
 The king, with the main body of the anny. Lid attained the 
 brow of a hill, when they beheld the advanced guard, under 
 the Marquis of Cadiz and the master of Santiago, furiously 
 attacked by the enemy, in the vicinity of the bridjje. The 
 Moors rushed to the assault with their usual shouts, but with 
 more than usual ferocity. 
 
 There was a hard struggle at the bridge, both parties know- 
 ing the importance of the pass. The king particularly noted 
 the prowess of two Moorish cavaliers, alike in arms and 
 devices, and who, by their bearing and attendance, he per- 
 ceived to be commanders of the enemy. They were the 
 two brothers, the alcaydes of Illora and Moclin. Wherever 
 they turned, they carried confusion and death into the ranks 
 of the C'hristians ; but they fought with desperation rather 
 than valour. The Count de Cabra and his brother, Don 
 Martin de Cordova, pressed forward with eagerness against 
 them ; but, having advanced too precipitately, were sur- 
 rounded by the foe, and in imminent danger. A young 
 
 Christian knight, seeing their peril, hastened with his fol- 
 
 lowers to their relief. The king recognized him for Don 
 Juan de Arragon, Count of Ribargoza, his own nephew ; for 
 he was illegitimate son of the Duke of Villahermosa, illegi- 
 timate brother of King Ferdinand. The splendid armour of 
 Don Juan, and the sumptuous caparison of his steed, rendered 
 him a brilliant object of attack. He was assailed on all 
 sides, and his superb steed slain under him ; yet still he 
 fouglit valiantly, bearing for a while the brunt of the fight, 
 and giving the exhausted forces of the Count de Cab^a time 
 to recover breath. 
 
 Seeing the peril of these troops, and the general obstinacy 
 of the contest, the king ordered the ''oyal standard to be 
 advanced, and hastened with all his forces to the relief of the 
 Count de Cabra. At his approach, the enemy gave way, and 
 retreated towards the bridge. The two Moorish comtnanders 
 endeavoured to rally their troops, and animate them tt defend 
 this pass to the utmost. They used prayers, remonstrances, 
 meimecs ; but nearly in vain. They could only collect a 
 scanty handful of cavaliers. With these tliey planted them- 
 selves at the head of the bridge, and dis'puted it inch by inch. 
 The fight was hot and obstinate ; for but few could contend 
 hand to hand, yet many discharged crossbows and arquebuses 
 
the 
 dcr 
 tslj 
 I'he 
 
 } 
 
 FOBAT OF TH£ TEOA. 
 
 171 
 
 from the banks. The river was covered with the floating 
 bodies of the slain. The Moorish band of cavaliers was 
 almost entirely cut to pieces ; the two brothers fell, covered 
 with wounds, upon the bridge they had i^ resolutely defended. 
 They had given up the battle for lost, but had determined not 
 to return alive to ungrateful Granada. When the people of 
 the capital heard how devotedly they had fallen, they lamented 
 gi'eatly their deaths, and extolled their memory. A column 
 was erected to their hoi. our in the vicinity of the bridge, 
 which long went by the name of " the tomb of the 
 brothers.' 
 
 The army of Ferdinand now marclicd on, and established 
 its camp in the vicinity of (iraniuld Tlie wortliy Agnpida 
 gives many triumphant details of the riiviigt.s oonnnittcd in 
 the vega. which was again laid waste ; the grain, fruits, and 
 other productions of the earth destroyed, and that earthly 
 Paradise rendered a dreary desert. He narrates several fierce 
 but ineffectual sallies and skirmishes of the Moors iu defence 
 of their favourite plain ; among which, one deserves to be 
 mentioned, as it records the achievement of one of the saintly 
 heroes of this war. 
 
 During one of the movements of the Christian army near 
 the walls of Granada, a battalion of fifteen hundred cavalry, 
 and a large force of foot, had sallied from the city, and posted 
 themselves near some gardens, which were surrounded by a 
 canal, and traversed by ditches, for the purpose of irrigation. 
 
 The Moors beheld the Duke del Infantado pass by with his 
 two splendid battalions, one of men at arms, the other of 
 light cavalry, armed d la gencta. In company with him, but 
 following as n rearguard, was Don Garcia Osorio, the belli- 
 gerent Bishop of Jaen, attended by Francisco lioradillo, the 
 corregidor of his city, and followed by two squadrons of men- 
 at-arms from Jaen, Andujur, Ubeda, and Haza.''* The success 
 of the preceding year s campaign iiad given the good bishop 
 an inclination for wailike attUirs, und lie hud once more buckled 
 on his cuirass. 
 
 The Moors were much given to stratagem in warfare. They 
 looked wistfully at the magnifioeiit squadrons of the Duke del 
 Infantudo ; but their martial discipline precluded all attack. 
 The good bishop jiromisid to Ix' a more easy prey. Suttirinc 
 the duke and his troops to pass unmolexted, tliey approached 
 * Pulgar, part ill. cap. 6a, 
 
 

 
 fr 
 
 172 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 
 « 
 
 ii 
 
 i. 
 
 the squadrons of the bishop, and making a pretended attack, 
 Hkirmished slightly, and fled in apparent confusion. The bishop 
 considered tlie day his own, and, seconded by his corregidor, 
 Bovadillo, followed with valorous precipitation , The Moors fled 
 into the Jitter ta del lietj^ or orchard of the king. The tioops 
 of the bishop followed hotly after them. When the Moors 
 perceived their jiursucrs fairly embarrassed among the intri- 
 cacies of the garden, they tmned fiercely upon them, while 
 some of their nimiber threw open the sluices of the Xenil. 
 In an instant the canal which encircled, and the ditches which 
 traversed the garden, were filled with water, and the valiant 
 bishop and his followers found themselves overwhelmed by a 
 deluge.* A scene of great confusion succeeded. Some of 
 the men of Jaen, stoutest of heart and hand, fought with the 
 Moors in the garden, while others struggled with the water, 
 endeavouring to escape across the canal, in which attempt 
 many horses were drowned. Fortiuiately, the Duke del 
 Infantado perceived the snare into which his companions had 
 fallen, and despatched his light cavalry to their assistance. 
 The Moors were compelled to fly, and driven along the 
 road of Elvira up to tlie gates of Granada. Several Christian 
 cavaliers perished in this affray ; the bishop himself escaped 
 with difficulty, having slipped from his saddle in crossing the 
 canal, but saved himself by holdin']^ on to the tail of his 
 charger. This perilous achievement seems to have satisfied 
 the good bishop's belligerent propensities. " He retired on 
 his laurels," says Agapida, " to his city of Jaen, where, on 
 the fruition of all good things', he gradually waxed too corpu- 
 lent for his corslet, which was hung up in the hall of his 
 episcopal palace ; and we hear no more of his military deeds 
 throughout the residue of the holy war of Granada."t 
 
 King Ferdinand having completed his ravage of the Tega, 
 and kept I'll Zagal shut up in his capital, conducted his army 
 back through the pass of Lope, to rejoin Queen Isabella at 
 Moclin. 'J'he fortresse " lately taken being well garrisoned 
 and supplied, he gave Uie command of the frontier to his 
 cousin, Don Fadrique de Toledo^ afterwards so famous in the 
 
 • Pulgar. 
 
 t Don Luid Otiorio fu6 obigpo dc Jaen dcsde el aAo de 1488, y pre> 
 Bidi6 en cgta iglcsia harta cl dc 1496 en que nnurid en Flandes & donde 
 iHi6 aoompaAando & la Princesa Dofka Juana, csposa del Archiduqiie Don 
 Felipe.— Eepafta Sagrada. Tor Fr. M. liiBco, turn. xli. trat. 77. cap. 4. 
 
 
ATTEMPT OF EL ZAOAL UPON BOABDIL. 
 
 173 
 
 attack, 
 bishop 
 regidor, 
 jors fled 
 troops 
 Moors 
 he intri- 
 n, while 
 Xenil. 
 es which 
 valiant 
 led by a 
 Some of 
 with the 
 le water, 
 attempt 
 )uke del 
 tions had 
 isistance. 
 long the 
 Christian 
 P escaped 
 ssing the 
 il of his 
 3 satisfied 
 •etired on 
 where, on 
 ;oo corpu- 
 all of nis 
 :ary deeds 
 
 "7 
 
 the vega, 
 [ his nrmy 
 sabella at 
 a;airisoned 
 ier to his 
 lous in the 
 
 1483, ypre- 
 dc8 & donde 
 liduque Don 
 77. cap. 4. 
 
 Netherlands as the Duke of Alva. The campaign being thus 
 completely crowned with success, the sovereigns returned iu 
 tritmiph to the city of Cordova. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 No sooner did the last squadron of Christian cavalry disaj)- 
 pear behind the mountain of Elvira, and the note of its 
 trumpets die away upon the ear, than the long suppressed 
 wrath of old Muley el Zagal burst forth. lie determined no 
 longer to be half a king, reigning over a divided kingdom, iu 
 u divided capital, but to exterminate, by any means, fair or 
 foul, his nephew Boabdil and his confederates. lie turned 
 furiously upon those whose factious conduct had deterred him 
 from sallying upon the foe. Some he punished by confiscation, 
 others by banishment, others by death. Once undisputed 
 monarch of the entire kingdom, he trusted to his military 
 skill to retrieve his fortune, and drive the Christians over the 
 frontier. 
 
 Boabdil, however, had again retired to Velez el Blanco, 
 on the confines of Murcia, where he could avail himself, iu 
 case of emergency, of any assistance or protection afi'oided 
 him by the policy of Ferdinand. His defeat had blighted 
 his reviving fortunes, for the people considered him as 
 inevitably doomed to misfortune. Still, while he lived. El 
 Zagal knew ho would be a rallying point for faction, and 
 liable, at any moment, to be elevated into power by the 
 capricious multitude. Ho had recourse, therefore, to the 
 most perfidious means to compass his destruction. lie sent 
 ambassadors to him, representing the necessity of concord for 
 the salvation of the kingdom, and even offering to resign the 
 title of king, and to become subject to his sway, on receiving 
 some estate, on which ho could live in tranquil retirement. 
 But, while the ambassadors boie these words of peace, they 
 were furnished with poisoned herbs, which they were to 
 administer secretly to Boabdil ; and, if they failed in this 
 attempt, they had pledged themselves to dcspat(!h him 
 openly, while engaged in conversation. They were instigated 
 to this treason by promises of '^reat reward, and by ass; nances 
 from the alfaquis, that Boabdil was an apostate, whose death 
 would be acceptable to heaven. 
 
 The youiig monarch was secretly apprized of the concerted 
 
 i-m 
 
 .hi- 
 
174 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF G BAN ADA. 
 
 treason, and refused an audience to the ambassadors. He 
 denoinieed his uncle as the murderer of his father and his 
 kindreci, and the usurper of his throne, and vowed never to 
 relt at in hostility to him, until he should place his head on 
 the walls of the Alhamhra. 
 
 Open Avar again broke out between the two monarchs, 
 thougli feebly carried on. in consequence of their mutual em- 
 barrassments. Ferdinand again extended his assistance to 
 Boabdil. ordering the commanders of his fortresses to aid 
 him in all enterprises against his uncle, and against such 
 places as refused to acknowledge him as king. And Don 
 Juan do Benavides, who commanded in Loxa, even made 
 inroads, in his name, into the territories of Almeria, Baza, 
 andGuadix, which owned allegiance to El Zagal. 
 
 The unfortunate Boabdil had three great evils to contend 
 •with ; the inconstancy of his subjects, the hostility of his 
 uncle, and the friendship of Ferdinand. The last was by far 
 the most baneful ; his fortunes withered under it. He M-as 
 looked upon as the enemy of his faith and of his country. 
 The cities shut their gates against him. The people cursed 
 him. Even the scanty band of cavaliers, who had hitherto 
 followed his ill staired banner, begun to desert him ; for ho 
 had not wherewithal to reward, or even to support them. His 
 spirit sank with his fortune ; and he feared that, in a little 
 time, he should not have a spot of earth whereon to place his 
 standard, or an adherent to rally under it. 
 
 In the midst of his despondency, he received a message 
 from his lion-hearted mother, the sultana Ayxa la Horra. 
 "For shame," said she, "to linger about the borders of yoiir 
 kingdom, when a usurper is seated in your capital ! Why 
 look al)road for perfidious aid, when you have loyal hearts 
 beating true to you in Granada? The albayein is ready to 
 throw open its gates to receive you. Strike home vigorously. 
 A sudden blow may mend all, or make an end. A throne, 
 or a grave ! for a king, there is no honourable medium." 
 
 Boabdil was of an undecided character : but there are cir- 
 cumstances which bring the most wavering to a decision, 
 and, when once resolved, they are apt to act with a daring 
 impulse, unknown to steadier judgments. The message of 
 the sultana roused him from a dream. Granada, beautiful 
 (iranada ! M-ith its stately Alhambra, its delicious gardens, its 
 gushing and limpid fountains, sparkling among groves of 
 
 the 
 
BOABBIl/s RETURK TO OBAWADA. 
 
 175 
 
 ore. He 
 
 r and his 
 
 never to 
 
 head on 
 
 nonarchs, 
 itual em- 
 stance to 
 Ds to aid 
 inst such 
 And Don 
 ^en made 
 ria, Baza, 
 
 contend 
 ity of his 
 vas by tar 
 
 He M'as 
 i country. 
 [)le cursed 
 i hitherto 
 n ; for he 
 hem. His 
 in a little 
 
 place his 
 
 message 
 
 X Horra. 
 •8 of yoUr 
 Why 
 al hearts 
 
 ready to 
 igorously. 
 A throne, 
 um." 
 re are cir- 
 
 decision, 
 1 a daring 
 essage of 
 , beautiful 
 irdens, its 
 
 groves of 
 
 orange, citron, and myrtle, rose before him. " What have I 
 done." exclaimed he, " thnt 1 should bo an exile from this 
 paradise of my forefathers, a wanderer and fugitive in my own 
 kingdom, while a murderous usurper sits proudly upon my 
 throne ? Surely, Allah will befriend the righteous cause : 
 one blow, and all may be my own !" 
 
 He summoned his scanty band of cavaliers. " Who is ready 
 to follow his monarch unto the death ? " said he ; and every 
 one laid his hand upon his cimeter. " Enough !" said he: 
 " let each man arm himself, and prepare his steed in secret, 
 for an enterpise of toil and peril : if we succeed, our reward 
 is empire !" 
 
 CHAPTER XLV.* 
 
 " In the hand of God," exclaims an old Arabian chronicler, 
 " is the destiny of princes : he alone giveth empire. A single 
 Moorish horseman, mounted on a fleet Arabian steed, was one 
 day traversing the mountains which extend between Granada 
 and the frontiers of Murcia. He galloped swiftly through 
 the valleys, but paused and looked out cautiously from the 
 summit of every height. A squadron of cavaliers followed 
 warily at a distance. Thei-e were fifty lances. The richness 
 of their annour and attire showed them to be warriors of 
 noble rank, and their leader had a lofty and prince-like de- 
 meanour." The squadron thus described by the iVrabian 
 chronicler was the Moorish king Boabdil and his devoted 
 followers. 
 
 For two nights and a day they pursued their adventurous 
 journey, avoiding all populous parts of the country, and 
 choosing the most solit.;ry passes of the mountains. They 
 suffered severe hardships and fatigues ; but they suffered 
 without a murmur. They were accustomed to rugged cam- 
 paigning, and their steeds were of generous and unyielding 
 spirit. It was midnight, and all was dark and silent, as they 
 descended from the mountains, and approached the city of 
 Granada. They passed along quietly under the shadow of its 
 walls, until they arrived near the gate of the albaycin. Here 
 Boabdil ordered his followers to halt, and remain concealed. 
 Taking but four or five with him, he advanced resolutely to 
 the gate, and knocked with the hilt of his cimeter. The 
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176 
 
 THE COHQVXftT OF OBAHADA. 
 
 h 
 
 hour. *' Tour king ! " exclaimed Boabdil : ** open the gate, 
 4ind admit him." 
 
 'ilxe guards held forth a light, and recognised the person of 
 the youthful monarch. They were struck with sudden awe, 
 and tlirew open the gates, and Boabdil and his followers 
 entered unmolested, llicy galloped to the dwellings of the 
 principal inhabitants of the albaycin; thundering at their 
 portals, and summoning them to rise, and take arms for their 
 ri^:htful sovereign. The summons was instantly obeyed; 
 truniTK'ts resounded throughout the streets; the gleam of 
 torches and the flash of arms showed the Moors hiurving 
 to their gathering places ; and by daybreak the whole Airce 
 of the olbaycin was rallied under the standard of Boabdil. 
 Such was the s-ccess of this sudden and desperate act of the 
 young monarch ; for we are assured by contemporary histo- 
 rians, that there had been no previous concert or arrangement. 
 ** As the guards opened the gate of the city to admit him," 
 obser^'es a pious clkronicler, " so Ood opened the hearts of the 
 Moors to receive him as their king.''* 
 
 In the morning, early, the tidings of this event rot:8ed El 
 Zagal from his slumbers in the Alhambra. The fiery old 
 warrior assembled his giurd in haste, and made his way, 
 sword in hand, to the albaycin, hoping to come upon his 
 nephew by surprise. He was v^rously met by Boabdil and 
 his adherents, and driven back into the quarter of the 
 Alhambra. An encounter took place between the two kings 
 in the square before the principal mosque. Here they 
 fought, hand to hand, with imploeable fUry, as though it had 
 been agreed to decide their competition for the crown by 
 single combat. In the tumidt of this chance medley afflray, 
 however, thev were separated, and the party of El Zagal was 
 ultimately driven fVom the square. 
 
 The battle raged fbr some time in the streets and places of 
 the cit}-; but, finding their powers of mischief cramped 
 within such narrow limits, both parties sallied forth into the 
 fields, and fought beneath the walk until evening. Many 
 fell on both sides; and at night each party withdrew into 
 its quarter, until the morning gave them light to ren*'^ the 
 unnatural conflict. For several days the two divisions of the 
 <Mty remained like hostile powers arrayed against each other. 
 The {)arty of the Alhambra was more numerous than thai of 
 
 • Pulsar. 
 
BOABDiL'f KETVBK TO OBAKABA. 
 
 »n 
 
 llie albaycio, and contained most of the nobility and chi- 
 ytiry; but the adherents of Boabdil were men hardened and 
 strengthened by kbour, and habitually skilled in the exercise 
 of urms. 
 
 The albaycin underwent a kind of Bi^;e by the forces of 
 El Zogal: they etfected breaches in the walls, and mode 
 repeated attempts to carry it sword in hand, but were as ofkun 
 repulsed. The troop of Boabdil, on the other hand, mode 
 frequent sallies ; and, in the conflicts which took place, the 
 hatred of the combatants rose to such a pitch of fury, that no 
 quoiterwas given on either side. 
 
 Boabdil perceived the inferiority of his force. He dreaded 
 also that his adherents, being for the most part tradesmen 
 and artisans, would become impatient of this interruption of 
 their gainful occupations, and disheartened by these continual 
 scenes of carnage. He sent missives, therefore, in all haste, 
 to Don Fadrique de Toledo, who commanded the Christian 
 forces on the frontier, entreating his assistance. 
 
 Don Fadrique had received orders from the politic Fer- 
 dinand to aid the youthful monarch in all his contests with 
 his uncle. He advanced, therefore, with a body of troops 
 near to Granada; but, wary less some treacltery might be 
 intended, he stood for some time aloof, watching the move- 
 ments of the parties. The furious and sanguinary nature of 
 the conflicts, which distracted unhappy Granada, soon con- 
 vinced him that there was no collusion between the monarchs. 
 He sent Boabdil, therefore, a reinforcement of Cliristian foot 
 soldiers and arquebusiers, under Feman Alvarez de Soto- 
 mayor, alcayde of Colomara. 'lliis was as a fire brand thrown 
 in to light up anew the flames of war in the city, which 
 remained raging between the Moorish inhabitants for the 
 space of fifty days. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 HiTHKBTO the events of this renowned war have been 
 little else than a succession of brilliaut but brief exploits, 
 such as sudden forays and wild skirmishes among the moun- 
 tains, or the surpiisals of castles, forti'esses, and frontier 
 towns. We approach now to more important and prolonged 
 operations, in which ancient and mighty cities, the bulwarks 
 <^. Granada, were inveited by powerful armies, subdued by 
 
 If 
 
I' 
 i 
 
 178 
 
 THB OOKQVEST OW QBUlXAML. 
 
 riotr and r^^ular sieges, and thus the capital left naked aB4 
 alone. 
 
 The glorious triumphs of the Catholic sovereigns, rays Fray 
 Antonio Agnpida, had resounded throii<;hout the EuKt, and 
 filled all heathenesse with iiLirni. 'i'he Ornnd Turk, Bajaxet 
 II., and his deadly foe the Crrand Suldan of Eg>-pt, suspend, 
 ing for a time their bloody fi'uds, entered into a lengue to 
 protect the religion of Mohomet nnd the kingdom of Oianuda 
 from the hostilities of the Christians. It was concerted 
 between them, that Uujaxet should send a poweiful iiriiiada 
 against the island of Sicily, then appertaining to the Spnnish 
 crown, for the purpose of distracting the attention of the 
 Ca'ttilian Hovereigns, while, at the same time, gi'ent bodies of 
 troops should be poured into Gitumda from the oj^x>site coast 
 of Africa. 
 
 Ferdinand and Isabella received timely intelligence of tliese 
 designs, lliey resolved at once to carry the war into the 
 seabord of Gianada, to possess themselves of its ports and 
 thus, as it were, to bar the gates of the kingdom against all 
 external aid. Malaga was to be the main object of attiick : it 
 was the principal seaport of the kingdtmi, and almost neces* 
 sary to its existence. It had long been the seat of opulent 
 commerce, sending mnny ships to the coasts of Syria and 
 Egypt. It was also the great channel of communication 
 with Africa, through which were introduced supplies of 
 money, troops, arms, nnd Htee<ls. from Tunis, Tri|M>li. Fer,, 
 Tremeznn, nnd otiier Btu-l)orv powers. It was emphatically 
 colled, therefore, the Hand and Mouth of Granada. 
 
 Before laying siege to this redoubtable city, however, it 
 was deemed neceKSiviy to si'crure the neighbouring city of 
 Velex Miiliiga, and its de))cndent places, which might other- 
 wise hurass the besieging army. 
 
 For this important Ciim|>aign. the nobles of the kingdom 
 were again suinuKmid to take the field with their forces, in 
 the spring of 1487. The menaced invasion of the infidel 
 powers ot the Fast had awakened netr ardour in tiie lioxoms 
 of all true Christian kniglits. nnd so xeaiously did they respond 
 to tlie summons of the KOxvi'eignB, that an ai-my of tweitty 
 thousand cavaln*. nnd tirflv tkousund foot, the flower of Spiinish 
 warriors led by the brnwst of Spanish cavnlurs. thronged 
 the renowiie<l city of (!ord(i\a at the nppdintod time. 
 , (>n the night befui« tliis luigiity hust rset forth upon ita 
 
•IIOB OF TKUU MAI^QA. 
 
 %n 
 
 march, an earthquake shook the city. The inhabitant!^ 
 awakened by the shaking of the walls and rocking of th* 
 towers, fled to the courts and squares, fearing to be over- 
 whelmed by the ruina of their dwellings. The earthquake 
 was nxMt violent in the quarter of the royal residence, the 
 site of the ancient pahice of the Moorish kings. Many looked 
 upon this as an omen of some impending evil, but Frav 
 Antonio Agapida, in that iufullible spirit of divination which 
 succeeds on event, plainly reads in it a presage, that the 
 empire of the Mooro was about to be shaken to its centre. 
 
 It was on Saturday, the eve of the Sunday of Pulms, says 
 a worthy and loyal chronicler of the times, that the most 
 Catholic monarch departed with his army to render scr^'ice to 
 heaven, and make wur upon the Moors.* Heavy rains had 
 swelled all the streams, and rendered the roads deep and 
 difficult. The king, therefore, divided his host into two 
 bodies. In one he put all the artillery, guarded by u strong 
 body of horse, and commanded by the master of Alcantara, 
 and Martin Alonzo, senior of Montcmayor. lliis division 
 was to proceed by the road through the valleys, where pas- 
 turage aboimded for the oxen which drew the ordnance. 
 
 The main body of the army was led by the king in iierson. 
 It was divided into numerous battttlions, each commanded by 
 some distiniruished cavalier. The king took the rough and 
 perilous road of the mountains ; and few mountains are more 
 rugged and difficult than those of Andalusia. The roads are 
 mere mule-paths, straggling amidst rocks and along the verge 
 of precipices, clambering vast craggy heights, or descending 
 into frightful chasms and ravines, with scanty and uncertain 
 foothold for either man or steed. Four thousand pioneers 
 were sent in advance, under the alcayde de los DonzeU'S, to 
 con(|uer. in some degree, the asperities of the road. Some 
 had pickaxes and crows, to break the rocks; some im- 
 plements to construct bridges over the mountain torrents ; 
 w])ile it was the duty of others to lay stepping-stones in the 
 smaller streams. As the country was inhabited by fiei-ce 
 Moorish mountaineers. Don Dif go du Castrillo was despatched, 
 ^ with a body of liorsc and foot, to take possession of the 
 heights nnd ])as8es. Notwithstanding ever}' precaution, the 
 royal army suffered excessively on its march. At one time, 
 there was no place to encamp fur fixe leagues of the moat 
 * Fulpr Cronies de los Bejros CsthoUooa. 
 
 N 2 
 
uo 
 
 THE C0KQUE8T OF GBAKAIHA. 
 
 toilsome and mountainous country, and many of the beasts of 
 burden sank down and perished on the road. 
 
 It was with the greatest joy, therefore, that the royal army 
 emerged from these stem and frightful defiles, and came to 
 where they looked down upon the vega of Velez Mali^; 
 The region before them was one of the most delectable to thef 
 eye that ever was ravaged by an army. Sheltered from every 
 rude blast by a screen of mountains, and sloping and expand- 
 ing to the south, this lovely valley was quickened by the 
 most generous sunshine, watered by the silver meanderings 
 of the Velez, and refreshed by cooling breezes from ihc 
 Mediterranean. The sloping hills were covered with vine^ 
 yards and olive-trees, the distant fields waved with grain, or 
 were verdant with pasturage, while around the city were 
 delightful gardens, the favourite retreats of the Moors, where 
 their white pavilions gleamed among groves of oranges, 
 citrons, and pomegranates, ond were surmounted by stately 
 palms, those plants of southern growth, bespeaking a generous 
 climate and a cloudless sky. 
 
 In the upper part of this delightful valley, the city of Velee 
 Malaga reared its worrior battlements, in stem contrast to 
 the landscape. It was built on the declivity of a steep and 
 insulated hill, and strongly fortified by walls and towers. 
 The crest of the hill rose high above the town into a mere 
 crag, inaccessible on every other side, and crowned by a 
 powerful castle, which domineered over the surrounding 
 country. Two suburbs swept down into the valley, from the 
 skirts of the town, and were defended by bulwarks and deep 
 ditches. The vast ranges of gray mountains, often cai)i}ed 
 with clouds, which rose to the north, were inhabited by in 
 hardy and warlike race, whose strong fortresses of Comares, 
 Camillas. Competa, and Benemarhorga, frowned down from 
 crug};ed heights. 
 
 At the time that the Christian host arrived in sight of this 
 valley, a squadron was hovering on the smooth sea before it, 
 displaying the banner of Castile. This was commanded by 
 the Count of Trevento. and consisted of four armed galleys, 
 convoying a number of caravels, laden with supplies for tho 
 army. 
 
 After sur^'cying the ground. King Ferdinand encamped on 
 the side of a mountain, which advanced close to the city, and 
 was tho lost of a rugged sierra} or ohain of heights, that 
 
SIEGE OP TELEZ MALAGA. 
 
 tH 
 
 extended quite to Granada. On the summit of this mountain, 
 and overlooking the camp, was a Moorish town, powerfully 
 fortified, called Bentomiz, and which, firom its vicinity, had 
 been considered capable of yielding great assistance to Velcz 
 Malaga. Several of the generals remonstrated with the king 
 for choosing a post so exposed to assaults from the moun- 
 taineers. Ferdinand replied, that he should thus cut off all 
 communication between the town and the city ; and that, as 
 to the danger, his soldiers must keep the more vigilant guard 
 against surprise. 
 
 Kii^ Ferdinand rode forth, attended by several cavaliers, 
 and a small number of cuirassiers, appointing the various 
 stations of the camp. While a body of foot soldiers were 
 taking possession, as an advanced guard, of an important 
 height which overlooked the city, the king retired to a tent 
 to take refreshment. While at table, he was startled by 
 a sudden uproar, and, looking forth, beheld his soldiers flying 
 before a superior force of the enemy. The king had on no 
 ot!ier armour but a cuirass. Seizing a lance, however, he 
 sprang upon his horse, and galloped to protect the fugitives, 
 followed by his handful of knights and cuirassiers. When 
 the Spaniards saw the king hastening to their aid, they 
 turned upon their pursuers. Ferdinand, in his eagerness, 
 threw himself into the midst of the foe. One of his grooms 
 was killed beside him ; but before the Moor who slew him 
 could escape, the king transfixed him with his lance. He 
 then sought to draw his sword, which hung at his saddle- 
 bow, but in vain. Never had he been exposed to such peril : 
 he was surrounded by the enemy, without a weapon where- 
 with to defend himself. 
 
 In this moment of awful jeopardy, the Marquis of Cadiz, 
 the Count de Cabra, the Adefantado of Murcia, with two other 
 cavaliers, named Oarcilasso de la Vega and Diego de Atayde, 
 came galloping to the scene of action, and, surrounding the 
 king, made a loyal rampart of their bodies against the assaults 
 of the Moors. The horse of the marquis was pierced by an 
 arrow, and that worthy cavalier exposed to immment danger ; 
 but, with the aid of his valorous companions, he quickly put 
 Uie enemy to flight, and pursued them with slaughter to the 
 very gates of the citv. 
 
 When these loyal warriors returned from the pursuit, they 
 i^monstrated with the king for exposing his life in penonal 
 
I«Sf 
 
 TRS C0NQTTE8T OF GBAITADA. 
 
 conflicts, seeing that he had so many valiant captains, whose 
 business it was to fight. They reminded him, that the lite of 
 a prince was the life of his peojile, and that many a brave 
 army was lost by the lora of its commander. They entreated 
 him, therefore, in future to protect them with the force of his 
 mind in the cabinet, rather than of his ai-m in the field. 
 
 Ferdinand acknowledged the wisdom of their advice, but 
 declared, that he could not see his people in peril without 
 venturing his person to assist them : a reply, say the old 
 chroniclers, which delighted the whole army, inasmuch as 
 they 8aw, tiiat he not only governed them as a good king, but 
 protected them as a valiant captain. Ferdinand, however, 
 was conscious of the extreme peril to wlpch he had been 
 exposed, and made a vow never again to venture into battle 
 without having his sword girt to his side.* 
 
 When this achievement of the king was related to Isabella» 
 i^e Ambled amidst her joy at his safety ; and afterwards, in 
 memorial of the event, she granted to Velez Malaga, as the 
 arms of the city, the figure of the king on horseback, with a 
 groom lying dead at his feet, and the Moors flying f 
 
 The camp was formed, but the artillery was yet on the 
 road, advancing with infinite labour at the rate of merely a 
 league a day ; for heavy rains had converted the streams of 
 the valleys into raging torrents, and completely broken up the 
 roads. In the meantime King Ferdinand ordered an assault 
 on the suburbs of the city. They were carried, after a san- 
 guinary conflict of six hours, in which many Christian cava- 
 liers were killed and wounded, and among the latter Don 
 Alvaro of Portugal, son of the Duke of Bra^nza. I'he 
 suburbs were then fortified towards the city with trenches 
 and palisades, and garrisoned by a chosen force unde:" Don 
 Fadrique de Toledo. Other trenches were dug round the 
 city, and from the suburbs io the royal camp, so as to cut off 
 all communication with the surrounding country. 
 
 Bodies of troops were also sent to take possest«ion of the 
 mountain passes, by which the supplies for the army had to 
 be brought. Tht mountains, however, were so steep and 
 nigged, and so ftiU of defiles and lurking places, that the 
 Moors could sally forth and retreat in perfect security, tre- 
 quently sweeping down upon Chi-istian ccmvoys, and bmring^^ 
 
 * lUflwa^ Hki Pontif. Ub. vi. c. 20. Vedmar, Uipt. Velez Malaga, 
 t Idea. 
 
•IBOS OF TSX.XZ MALAGA. 
 
 off both booty and primmcn to their ttrong-holds. Some- 
 times the Moors would light fires at night on the sides of th« 
 mountains, which would lie answered by fires from the watch- 
 towers and fortresses. By these signals they would concert 
 assaults upon the Christian camp, which, in consequence, 
 was obliged to be continually on the alt:rt, and ready to fly 
 to arms. 
 
 King Ferdinand flattered himself, that the manifestation of 
 his force had struck sufiicieni terror into the city, and that, 
 by offers of clemency, it might be induced to capitulate. He 
 wrote a letter, therefore, to the commanders, promising, in 
 case of immediate surrender, that all the inhabitants should 
 be permitted to depart with their effects ; but threatening 
 them with fire and sword if they persisted in defence. This 
 letter was despatched by a cavulier, named Carvajal, who, 
 putting it on the end of a lance, gave it to the Moors who 
 were on the walls of the city. The commanders replied, that 
 the king was too noble and magnanimous to put such a threat 
 in execution, and that they should not surrender, as they 
 knew the artilleiy could not be brought to the camp, and they 
 were promised succour by the king of Granada. 
 
 At the same time that he received this reply, the king 
 learned, that at the strong town of Comares, upon a height 
 about two leagues distant from the camp, a lai^ number of 
 warriors had assembled from the Axarquia, the same moun- 
 tains in which the Christian cavaliers had been mapfucred in 
 the beginning of the war ; and that others w> j<.^ daily 
 expected, for this rugged sierra was capable of futiishing 
 fifteen thousand fighting men. 
 
 King Ferdinand felt that his army, thus diqointed and en- 
 closed in an enemy's country, was in a perilous situation, and 
 that the utmost discipline and vigilance were necessary. He 
 put the camp under the strictest regulations, forbidding all 
 gaming, blasphemy, or brawl, and expelling all loose women, 
 and their attendant bully-ruffians, the usual fomenters of riot 
 and contention among soldiery. He ordered, that none 
 should sally forth to skirmish without permission from their 
 commanden ; that none should set fire to the woods on the 
 neighbouring mountains, and that all word of security given 
 to Moorish places or individuals should lie inviolably observed. 
 These regulations were enforced by severe penalties, and had 
 such salutary effect, that, though a vast host of various pec^le 
 
ISS 
 
 TBS OOKQXrSST OF ORAKASA. 
 
 ■were collected together, not an opprobrioiu epithet was heard, 
 nor a weapon drawn in quarrel. 
 
 In the meantime the cloud of war went on gathering 
 about the summits of the mountains : multitudes of the fierce 
 warriors of the sierra descended to the lower heights of 
 Bentomiz, which overhung the camp, intending to force their 
 way into the city. A detachment was sent against them, 
 which, after sharp fighting, drove them to the higher clifis of 
 the moiwtain, where it was impossible to pursue them. 
 
 Ten days had elapsed since the encampment of the army, 
 yet still the artillery had not arrived. The lombards and 
 other hea%y ordnance were left, in despair, at Antequera : 
 the rest came groaning slowly through the narrow valleys, 
 which were filled with long trains of artillery and cars laden 
 with munitions. At length part of the smaller ordnance 
 arrived within half a league of the camp, and the Christians 
 were animated with the hopes of soon being able to make a 
 regular attack upon the fortifications of the city. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 Whilk the standard of the cross waved on the hills before 
 Yelez Malaga, and every height and cliff bristled with hostile 
 arms, the civil war between the fnctions of the Alhambra and 
 the Albaycin, or rather between £1 Zagal and £1 Chico, coo^ 
 tinned to convulse the city of Granada. 
 
 The tidings of the investment of Yelez Malaga at length 
 
 -roused the attention of the old men and the alfaquis, whose 
 
 heads were not heated by the daily broils. Tney spread 
 
 themselves through the city, and endeavoured to arouse the 
 
 people to a sense of their common danger. 
 
 *' Why," said they, " continue these brawls between 
 brethren and kindred ? What battles are these, where even 
 triumph is ignominious, and the victor blushes and conceals 
 his scars? Behold the Christians ravaging tlie land Won 
 by the valour and blood of your forefathers, dwelling in the 
 houses they have built, sitting under the trees they have 
 planted, while your brethren wander about, houseless and 
 desolate. Do you wish to seek your real foe? He is en* 
 camped on the mountain of Bentomiz. Do you want a field 
 for the display of your valour ? You will find it before the 
 walls of Yelez Malaga." 
 
PSBIL OF THE BOTAI. ABUT. 
 
 185 
 
 "Wben they bad roused the spirit of the people, the^ mad^ 
 their way to the rival kings, and addressed them with like 
 remonstrances. Hamet Abcn Zarrex, the inspired santon. re- 
 proached "EX Zagal with his blind and senseless ambition. 
 ** You are striving to be king," said he bitterly, " yet suffer 
 the kingdom to be lost." 
 
 £1 Zagal found himself in a perplexing dilemma. He had 
 a double war to wi^. with the enemy without and the enemy 
 within. Should the Christians gain possession of the sencoast, 
 it would be ruinous to the kingdom ; should he leave Granada 
 to oppose them, his vacant throne might be seized on by his 
 nephew. He made a merit of necessity, and pretending to 
 yield to the remonstrances of the alfaquis, endeavoured to 
 compromise with BoabdQ. He expressed deep concern at 
 the daily losses of the country, caused by the dissensions of 
 the capital ; an opportunity now presented itself to retrieve all 
 by a blow. The Christians had, in a manner, put themselves 
 in a tomb between the mountains ; nothing remained but to 
 throw the earth upon them. He offered to resign the title of 
 king, to submit to the government of his nephew, and fight 
 under his standard ; all he desired was to hasten to the relief 
 <^ Velez Malaga, and to take full vengeance on the Christians. 
 
 Boabdil spumed his proposition as the artifice of a hypocrite 
 and a traitor. " How shall I trust a man," said he, '' who 
 has murdered my father and my kindred by treachery, and 
 repeatedly soi^ht my own life, both by violence and stra- 
 tagem?" 
 
 El Zi^al foamed with rt^e and vexation, but there was no 
 ■tone to be lost. He was beset by the alfaquis and the nobles 
 of his court; the youthful cavaliers were hot for action, the 
 common people loud in their complaints that the richest cities 
 were abandoned to the enemy. The old warrior was naturally 
 fond of fighting ; he saw also, that to remain inactive would 
 endanger both crown and kingdom, whereas a successful blow 
 would secure his popularity in Granada. He had a nmck 
 more powerful force than his nephew, having lately received 
 reinfbrcements from Baza, Guadix, and Almaria; he could 
 march therefore with a large force, and yet leave a strong 
 garrison in the Alhambra. He formed his measures accord- 
 ingly, and departed suddenly in the night, at the head of one 
 thousand horse and twenty thousand foot. He took the moat 
 unfrequented roads along the chain of mountains extending 
 
186 
 
 TBE COHQITZiT OT OBANADA* 
 
 from Ghranada to the height of Bentomiz. and proceeded with 
 ■uch rapidity as to arrive there before King Ferdinand had 
 notice of his approach. 
 
 The Christians were alarmed one erening by the suddea 
 blazing of great fires on the mountain, about the fortress of 
 Bentomiz. By the ruddy light they beheld the flash of wea* 
 pons and the array of troops, and they heard the distant sound 
 of Mooruth drums and trumpets. The fires of Bentomiz were 
 answered by fires on the towers of Velez Malaga. The shouts 
 of "El Zagal! £1 Zagal!" echoed along the cHfls and i-e- 
 •ounded from the city, and the (/hristians found that the old 
 warrior king of Qranada was on the mountain above their 
 camp. 
 
 The spirits of the Moors were suddenly raised to a pitch of 
 the greatest exultation, while the Christians were astonished 
 to see this storm of war ready to burst upon their heads, llie 
 Count de Cabra, with his accustomed eageiTiess when there 
 was a king in the field, would fain have scaled the heights, 
 and attacked £1 Zagal before he had time to form his camp ; 
 but Ferdinand, who was more cool and wary, restrained him. 
 To attack the height would be to abandon the siege. He 
 ordered erery one, therefore, to keep vigilant watch at his 
 post, and to stand ready to defend it to the utmost, but on no 
 account to sally forth and attack the enemy. 
 
 All night the signal fires kept blazing along the mountains, 
 rousing and animating the whole country. The morning sun 
 rose over the lofty summit of Bentomiz on a scene of martial 
 splendour. As its rays glanced down the mountain, they 
 lighted up the white tents of the Christian cavaliers, cresting 
 its lower prominences, their pennons and ensigns fluttering in 
 the morning breeze. The sumptuous pavilion of the king, 
 with the hdy standard of the cross, and the royal banners of 
 Castile and Arragon, dominated the encampment* Beyond 
 lay the city, its lofty castle and numerous towers glistening 
 with arms, while above all, and just on the profile of the 
 height, in the Ml blaze of the rising sun, were descried the 
 tents of the Moor, his turhaned troops clustering abou"; them, 
 and his infidel banners floating against the sky. Columns of 
 ■moke rose where the night fire had blazed, and the clash of 
 ^e Moorish cymbal, the bray of the trumpet, and tiie neigh 
 of steeds, were faintly heard from those airy heights. So purb 
 and transparent is the atmosphere in this region, that every 
 
PraiL OF THE BOTAL ABMT« 
 
 187 
 
 with 
 I had 
 
 object can be distinctly seen at a great distance, and the 
 Cliristinns were able to behold the formidable host of foes, 
 that were gathering on the summits of the surrounding moun- 
 tains. 
 
 One of the first measures of the Moorish king was to detach 
 ft large force under Rodovan de Vanegas, alcayd«; of Oranada, 
 to fiill upon the convoy of ordnance, which stretched for a 
 great distance through the mountain defiles. Ferdinand had 
 anticipated this attempt, and sent the commander of Leon 
 with u body of horse and foot to reinforce the master of Al- 
 cantara. £1 Zagal, from his moimtain height, beheld the 
 detachment issue from the camp, and immediately recalled 
 Rodovan de Vanegas. The armies now remained quit t for a 
 time,' the Moor looking grimly down upon the Christian camp, 
 like a tiger meditating a bound upon his prey. The Christians 
 were in a fearful jeopardy: a hostile city below them, a 
 powerful army above them, and on every side mountains filled 
 with implacable foes. 
 
 After £1 Zagpl had mattu«ly consulted the situation of the 
 Christian camp, and informed himself of all the passes of the 
 mountain, he conceived a plan to surprise the enemy, which 
 he flattered himself would ensure their ruin, and, perhaps, the 
 capture of King Ferdinand. He wrote a letter to the aicayde 
 of the city, commanding him, in the dead of the night, on a 
 signal fire being made from the mountain, to sally forth with 
 aU his troops, and fell furiously upon the camp. The king 
 Would, at the same time, rush down with his army from the 
 , mountain, and assail it on the opposite side, thus overwhelmii^ 
 it at the hour of deep repose. This letter he despatched by a 
 renegade Christian, who knew all the secret roads of the 
 coimtry, and, if taken, could pass himself for a Christian who 
 had escaped fh>m captivity. 
 
 The fierce El Zagal, confident in the success of his strati^m, 
 looked down upon the Christians as his devoted victims. As 
 the sun went down, and the long shadows of the mountains 
 stretched across the vega, he pointed with exultation to the 
 camp below, apparently unconscious of the impending danger. 
 "Alia akbar!" exclaimed he, ** God is great! Behold the 
 unbelievers are delivered into our hands: their king and 
 choicest chivalry will soon be at our mercy. Now is the time 
 to show the courage of men, and by one glorious victory re- 
 trieve all that we have lost. Happy he who Mis fighting in 
 
 i 
 
 a 
 
188 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 tlie cause of the prophet : he will at once be transported to 
 the paradise of the faithiul, and surrounded by immortal 
 houries ! Happy he who shall survive victorious : he will 
 behold Granada, an earthly paradise, once more delivered from 
 its foes, and restored to all its glory ! " The words of EI 
 Zagal were received with acclamations by his troops, who 
 waited impatiently for the appointed hour to pour down from 
 their mountain hold upon the Christians. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVHI. 
 
 Queen Isabella and her court had remained at Cordova in 
 great anxiety for the result of the royal expedition. Every 
 day brought tidings of the difficulties which attended the 
 transportation of the ordnance and munitions, and of the 
 critical situation of the army. 
 
 AVhile in this state of anxious suspense, couriers arrived 
 with all speed from the frontiers, bringing tidings of the 
 sudden sally of El Zagal from Granada to surprise the Chris- 
 tian camp. All Cordova was in consternation. The destruc- 
 tion of the Andalusian chivalry among the mountains of this 
 very neighbourhood was called to mind ; it was feared that 
 similar ruin was about to burst forth from rocks and preci- 
 pices upon Ferdinand and his army. 
 
 Queen Isabella shored in the public alarm ; but it served 
 to rouse all the energies of her heroic mind. Instead of 
 uttering idle apprehensions, she sought only how to avert the 
 danger. She called upon all the men of Andalusia, under the 
 age of seventy, to orm and hasten to the relief of their sove- 
 reign, and she prepared to set out with the first le^'ies. 
 
 The grand cardinal of Spain, old Pedro Gonzalez de Men. 
 do/a, in whom the piety of the saint and the wisdom of the 
 couuhellor were mingled with the fire of the cavolier, off'ere<l 
 high pay to all horsemen who would follow him to aid their 
 king and the Christian cause ; and, buckling on armour, pre- 
 pared to lead them to the scene of danger. 
 
 The summons of the queen roused the quick Andalusian 
 spirit. Warriors, who had long since given up fighting, and 
 hod sent their sons to battle, now seized the sword and lance 
 that were rusting on the wall, and marshalled forth their 
 gray-headed domestics and their grandchildren for the field* 
 The great dread was, that all aid would arrive too late. £1 
 
 Zagal 
 tains, 
 theCh 
 In 
 
BEPUIiSE OF EL ZAOAL. 
 
 IM 
 
 luaian 
 and 
 lance 
 their 
 field. 
 El 
 
 Zagal and his host had passed like a storm through the moun- 
 tains, and it was feared the tempest had already burst upon 
 the Christian camp. 
 
 In the meanwhile the night had closed, which had been 
 appointed by £1 Zagal for the execution of his plan. He had 
 watched the last light of day expire, and all the Spanish camp 
 remained tranquil. As the hours wore away, the.camp firc8 
 were gi*aduaUy extinguished. No drum or trumpet sounded 
 from below ; nothing was heard but now and then the heavy 
 tread of troops, or the echoing tramp of horses, the usual 
 patroles of the camp, and the changes of the guard. El 
 Zagal restrained his own impatience, and that of his troops, 
 until the night should be advanced, and the cam[) sunk in 
 that heavy sleep from which men are with difficulty awakened, 
 and, when awakened, so prone to be bewildered and dismayed. 
 
 At length the appointed hour arrived. By order of the 
 Moorish king a bright flame sprung up from the height of 
 Bcntomiz; but £1 Zagal looked in vain for the responding 
 light from the city. His impatience could brook no longer 
 delay: he ordered the advance of the army to descend the 
 mountain defile, and attack the camp. The deHle was nar- 
 row and overhung by rocks. As the troops proceeded, they 
 came suddenly, in a shadowy hollow, upon a dai'k mass of 
 Christian warriors. A loud shout burst forth, and the Chris- 
 tians rushed to assail them. The Moors, surprised and dis- 
 concerted, retreated in confusion to the height. When lil 
 Zagid heard of a Christian force posted in the detile, he 
 doubted some counter plan of the enemy. He gave orders 
 to light the mountain fires. On a signal given, bright flames 
 sprung out on every height, from great pyres of wood pre- 
 pared for the purpose. Cliff blazed out after cliff, until the 
 whole atmosphere was in a glow of furnace light. Tlie ruddy 
 glare lit up the glens and passes of the mountains, and fell 
 strongly upon the Christian camp, revealing all its tents, and 
 every post and bulwark. Wherever £1 Zagal turned his eyes, 
 he belield the light of his fires flashed back from cuirass, and 
 helm, and sparkling lance : he beheld a grove of spears planted 
 in every pass, every assailable point bristling with arms, and 
 squadrons of horse and foot, in battle an*oy, awaiting his 
 attack. 
 
 In fact, the letter of El Zagal to the alcayde of \'ele« Ma- 
 laga had been intercepted by the vigilant Ferdinand, and the 
 
' 
 
 190 
 
 THE COKQUUT OF OKAKADA. 
 
 renegado messenger hanged, and secret measures taken, after 
 the night had closed in, to give the enemy a warm rcce|>tion. 
 El Zagal saw that his plan of surprise was discovered and 
 foiled: furious with disappointment, he ordered his troops 
 forward to the attack. They rushed down the defile with 
 loud cries, but were again encountered by the mnss of Chris- 
 tian warriors, being the advanced guard of the army, com- 
 manded by Don Hurtado de Mendoza. brother of the grand 
 cardinal, llie Moors were again repidsed, and retreated up 
 the heiglits. Don Hurtado would have pursued tliem; but 
 the ascent was steep and rugged, and easily defended by the 
 Moors. A sharp action was kept up through the night with 
 cro^isbows, darts, and arquebussi's ; the cliffy echoed with 
 deafening uproar, while the fires, blazing upon the mountains, 
 threw a lurid and uncertain light upon the scene. 
 
 When tlic day dawned, and the Moors saw that there was 
 no codi)eration from the city, they began to slacken in their 
 ardour: they beheld also every pass of the mountain filled 
 with Christian trooi)s, and began to apprehend an assault in 
 return. Just then King Ferdinand t^ent the Marquis of Cadiz, 
 with horse and foot, to seize u])on a height occupied by a bat- 
 talion of the enemy. The marquis as.sailed the Moors with 
 his usual intrepidity, and soon put them to flight. The others, 
 who were above, seeing their com|)anions fiyiiig, were seized 
 with a sudden alarm. They threw down their arms and re- 
 treated. One of those unaccountable panics which now and 
 then seize upon great bodies of people, and to which the light- 
 spirited Moors M ere very prone, now spread througli the camp. 
 They were terrified they knew not why, or at what. They 
 threw away swords, lunces, breastplates, crossliows, every- 
 thing that could burden or impede their flight, and. sjireading 
 themselves wildly over the mountains, fled headlong down the 
 defiles. They fled without purswrs. from the glimpse of each 
 others arras, from the M)und of each others footsteps, llo- 
 dovan de Vanegns, the brave alcayde of Granada, alone suc- 
 ceeded in collecting a body of the fujj;itivi8: he made a circuit 
 with them through the {lasses of the mount ains, and. ibrcing 
 his way across a weak part of the Christian lincN, galloptd 
 towards Velez Mahiga. Tlve rest of the Muoiish host was 
 completely scattered. In vain did I'll Ztigal and his knights 
 attempt to i?illy them : they were left almost alone, nn<i had 
 to consult their own security by flight. The Murquib of Cuduj, 
 
YAirXC or TBM MOOBS. 
 
 191 
 
 findii^ no opposition, ascended from height to height, cau- 
 tiously reconnoitring, and fearful of some stratagem or am-> 
 bush. All, however, was qniet. He reached, with his men, 
 the place which the Moorish army had occupied: the heights 
 were abandoned, and strewed with cuirasses, cimeters, cross- 
 bows, and other weajions. His force was too small to pursue 
 the enemy, and he returned to the royal camp, laden with 
 the spoils. 
 
 King Ferdinand at first could not credit so signal and 
 miraculous a defeat. He suspected some luricing stratagem. 
 He ordered, therefore, that a sti ict watch should be main- 
 tained throughout the camp, and every one be ready for in- 
 stant action. The following night a thousand cavaliers and 
 hidalgos kept guard about the royal tent, as they had done for 
 several preceding nights, nor did the king relax this vigilance, 
 until he received certain intelligance that the army was com- 
 pletely scattered, and Rl Zognl flying in confusion. 
 
 The tidings of this rout, and of the safety of the Christian 
 asrmy. arrived at Cordova just as the reinforcementn were on 
 the point of setting out. The anxiety and alarm of the queen 
 and the public were turned to transports of joy and gratitude. 
 The fbrces were disbanded, solemn proccKsions were made, 
 and I'e Deums chanted in the churcheii for so signal a victory. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 The daring spirit of the old wanior, Muloy Abdnlla el 
 Za^al, in sallying forth to defend his territories, while he left 
 an armed rival in his capital, had struck the people of Gra- 
 nada with admiration. Thoy recalled his former exploits, 
 and again anticipated some hni-dy achievement from his furious 
 valour. Couriers from the army reported its formidable posi- 
 tion on the height of Bentomiz. For a time there was a 
 pause in the bloody commotiuiis of the city : all attention was 
 turned to the blow alMiut to be struck at the C'hriMtian camp. 
 The same considei-atitms, which diffused anxiety and terror 
 through Cordova, swelled every bosom with exulting confi- 
 dence in Granada. Tlie Moor» expected to hear of another 
 mnssnere, like that in the luo.mbiiuH of Malaga. " Kl Zagal 
 has au;niu entrapped the enemy!" was the cry. "The 
 power of the unbolievern u niwiit to be struck to the heart ; 
 and we shall soon see the Christian king led capiive to the 
 
 H 
 
 
 >: 
 
 A 
 
 il 
 
f l p > > l «■ 
 
 192 
 
 THE C0KQUE8T OF GBAKADA. 
 
 capital !" Thus the name of El Zagal was on every tongue. 
 He was extolled as the saviour of the country, the only one 
 worthy of wearing the Moorish crown. Boahdil was reviled 
 as basely remaining passive while his country was invaded; 
 and so violent became the clamour of the populace, that his 
 adherents trembled for his safety. 
 
 AVhile the people of Granada were impatiently looking for 
 tidings of the anticipated victory, scattered horsemen came 
 spurring across the vega. They were fugitives from the 
 Moorish army, and brought the first incoherent account of its 
 defeat. Every one who attempted to tell the tale of this un- 
 accountable panic and dispersion was as if bewildered by the 
 broken recollection of some frightful dream. He knew not 
 how or why it came to pass. He talked of a battle in the 
 night among rocks and precipices, by the glare of bule-fires ; 
 of multitudes of armed foes in every pass, seen by gleams and 
 flashes ; of the sudden hori'or that seized upon the army at 
 da} break, its headlong flight and total dispersion. Hour after 
 hour the arrival of other ^gitives confirmed the story of ruin 
 and disgrace. 
 
 In proportion to their recent vaunting was the humiliation 
 that now fell upon the people of Granada. ITiere was a 
 universal burst, not of grief, but indignation. 
 
 They confounded the leader with the army; the deserted 
 with those who had abandoned him ; and El Zagal, from being 
 tlioir idol, became the object of their execration. He had 
 sacrificed the army; he had disgi'nced the nation; he had 
 betrayed the country. He was a dastard, a traitor; he was 
 imwoithy to reign ! 
 
 On a Ktidden. one among the multitude cried out, " Long 
 live Boabdil el Chico!" The cry was echoed on all sides, and 
 every one shouted, " Long live Boahdil el Chico! long live the 
 legitimate king of Granada! and death to all usurpers!'' In 
 the excitement, of the moment they thronged to the albaycin, 
 and those, who had lately besieged Boabdil with nnns, now 
 surrounded his ])alace with acclamations, llie keys of the 
 city and of uU the fortresses were laid at his feet; he wa« 
 borne in state to the Alhambrn, and once more seated, with 
 all due ceremony, on the throne of his ancestors. 
 
 Boabdil had by this time become so accustomed to be 
 crowned and uncrowned by the multitude, that he put no 
 great faith in the duration of their loyalty. He know that ho 
 
DEPOSZTIOir OF SIi ZAOAL* 
 
 193 
 
 WHS surrounded by hollow hearts, and that most of the courtiers 
 of the Alhambra were secretly devoted to his uncle. He 
 ascended the throne as the rightful sovereign, who had been 
 dispossessed of it by usurpation, and he ordered the heads of 
 lour of the principal nobles to be struck off, who had been 
 most zealous m support of the usurper. Executions of this 
 kind were matters of course on any change of Moorish govem<> 
 ment; and Boabdil was extolled for his moderation and hu- 
 manity, in being content with so small a sacrifice. The fac- 
 tions were awed into obedience; the populace, delighted with 
 any change, extolled Boabdil to the skies, and the name of 
 Muley Abdalla el Zagal was for a time a bye- word of scorn 
 and opprobrium throughout the city. 
 
 Never was any commander more astonished and confounded 
 b^ a sudden reverse than £1 Zagal. The evening had seen 
 him with a powerful army at his command, his enemy within 
 his grasp, and victory about to cover him with glory, and to 
 consolidate his power. The morning beheld him a fugitive 
 among the mountains; his army, his prosperity, his power, 
 all dispelled he knew not how ; gone like a dream of the 
 night. In vain had he tried to stem the headlong flight of 
 the soldiery. He saw his squadrons breaking and dispersing 
 among the cliffs of the mountains, until, of all his host, only 
 a handful of cavaliers remained faithful to him. With these 
 he made a gloomy retreat towards Granada, but with a heart 
 Adl of foreboding. When he drew near the city, he paused 
 on the banks of the Xenil, and sent forth scouts to collect 
 intelligence. They returned with dejected countenances. 
 ^*The gates of Chranada,'* said they, " are closed against you. 
 The biumer of Boabdil floats on the tower of the Alhambra." 
 
 £1 Zagal turned his steed, and departed in silence. He 
 retreated to the town of Almune9ar, and from thence to 
 Almeria, places which still remained fidthful to him. Restless 
 ftnd uneasy at being so distant from the capital, he again 
 changed his abode, and repaired to the city of Uuadiz, within 
 B few leagues of Qranada. Here he remained, endeavouring 
 to rally his foirces, and preparing to avail himself of any 
 change in the fluctuating pohtics of the metropolis. 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 Thb people of Velei Mahiga had beheld the eamp of Muley 
 
 o 
 
 u 
 
i 
 
 Wi 
 
 TUX COVQVZS^ or OmAVADA. 
 
 . l 
 
 
 Abdalki el Zngal eoreriii^ the snmmit of Bentomis, and glit- 
 tering in the last rays of the setting snn. During the night 
 they had been alarmed and perplexed by signal fires on the 
 mountain, and by the distant sound of battle. When the 
 morning broke, the Moorish army had vanished as if by 
 enchantment. While the inhabitants were lost in wonder 
 and conjecture, a body of cavalry, the fragment of the army 
 saved by Rodovan de Vanegas, the brave alcayde of Granada, 
 came galloping to the gates. The tidings of the strange dis^ 
 comfiture of the host filled the city with consternation ; but 
 Rodovan exhorted the people to continue their resistance. 
 He was devoted to El Zagal, and confident in his skill and 
 prowess; and felt assured that he would soon collect his 
 scattered forces, and retiun with fresh troops fit>m Ghranada. 
 The people were comforted by the words and encouraged by 
 the presence of Rodovan, and they had still a lingering hope, 
 that the heavy artillery of the Christians might be locki^ up in 
 the impassable defiles of the mountains. This hope was sooa 
 ait an end. The very next day they beheld long laborious 
 lines of ordnance slowly moving into the Spanish camp ; lorn- 
 bards, ribodoquines, catapultas, and cars laden with munitions^ 
 while the escort, under the brave master of Alcantara, wheeled 
 in great battalions into the cunp, to augment the force of the 
 besiegers. 
 
 The intelligence, that Granada had shut its gates againt El 
 Zagal, and that no reinforcements were to be expected, com- 
 
 {»leted the despair of the inhabitants ; even Rodovan himself 
 ost confidence, and advised capitulation. 
 
 The terms were arranged between Ae alci^de and tbe 
 noble Count de Cipientes. The latter had been prisoner (^ 
 Rodovan at Granada, who had treated him with chivalrous 
 Oourtesy. They had conceived a mutual esteem for each 
 other, and met as ancrant friends. 
 
 Ferdinand granted favourable conditions; for he mm eager 
 to proceed against Malaga. The inhabitants were perraillMl 
 to depart with their eflbcts, except tkev arms, and to reside* if 
 they chose it, in Spain, in any place distant from tk» aea. 
 One hundred and tweirty Ohristtaas of both seies weie reaooed 
 from captivity by the surrender of Velea Malaga, and were sent 
 to Cordova, where they weie received with great tendemesa 
 by the queen, and her daughter the Infimta Isabella, in the fit- 
 liuNWCttliiadnlkiAthrDttdsfof pnblie ngoioingiiMrtlMnatoiy. 
 
BUBmXVDSB OV TSLU MXJUlQA. 
 
 IM 
 
 . The capture of V elec Malaga was followed by tlie smrendcr 
 of Bentomiz, Comares, and all the towns and fortresses of the 
 Azarquia, which were strongly garrisoned, and discreet and 
 valiant cavaliers appointed as their alcaydes. The inhabitants 
 of nearly forty towns of the Alpuzarra mountains also sent 
 deputations to the Castilian sovereigns, taking the oath of 
 allegiance as Mudchares, or Moslem vassals. 
 
 About the same time came letters from Boabdil el C9ueo, 
 announcing to the sovereigns the revolution of Granada in his 
 fiivour. He solicited kindhiess and protectioii for the inhaUr 
 taats who had returned to their alleigance, and for those of 
 all other places which should renounce allegiance to his unde. 
 By this means, he observed, the whole kingdom of Granada 
 would soon be induced to acknowle^e his sway, and wouU 
 be held by him in faithful vassalage to the Castilian crown. 
 
 The Catholic sovereigns complied with his request. Pro- 
 tection was immediately extended to the inhabitants of Gtai* 
 nada, permitting them to cultivate their fields in peace, and to 
 Ixade with the Christian territories in all articles exceptiBg 
 arms, being provided with letters of surety from some ChrutiaiK 
 captain or idcayde. The same favour was promised to all 
 other places that within six m<mths should renounce £1 Zanl^ 
 and come under alleigance to the younger king. Should taej 
 not do so within that time, the sovereigns threatened to make 
 war i^n them, and conquer them for themselves. This 
 measure had a great efiect in inducing many to return to tbs 
 standard of BoabdiL 
 
 Having made every necessary arrangement for the govsom* 
 ment and security of the newly conquered territory, Ferdi* 
 nand turned his attention to the great object of his **""r**P^t 
 the reduction of Malaga. 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 Thx city of Malaga lies in the lap of a fertile vaU^, 
 ■urroimded by mountains, excepting on the part whieh bat 
 open to the sea. As it was one of the most important, so it 
 was one of the strongest cities of the Moorish kingdooa. If 
 was fortified by walls of prodigious strength, studded mtk m 
 peat number of hugs towers. On the land aiim it was ptn 
 tected by a natural barxier of aountsina, sod, on thft otaer, 
 
 " o 2 
 
 ^1 
 
I 
 
 I J 
 
 ( 
 
 I' i 
 
 >' ^ 
 
 :1 
 
 IM 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBANADA. 
 
 fhd waves of the Mediterranean beat against the foundations 
 of its massive bulwarks. 
 
 At one end of the city, near the sea, on a high moimd, 
 Stood the alcazaba or citadel, a fortress of great strength. 
 Immediately above this rose a steep and rocky mount, on the 
 top of which, in old times had been a pharos, or lighthouse, 
 from which the height derived its name of Gibralfaro.* It 
 was at present crowned by an immense castle, which, from 
 its lofty and cra^y situation, its vast walls and mighty 
 towers, was deemed impregnable. It communicated with 
 the alcazaba by a covered way, six paces broad, leading down 
 between two walls, along the profile or ridge of the rock. 
 The castle of Oibralfaro commanded both citadel and city, 
 and was capable, if both were taken, of maintaining a 
 siege. 
 
 Two large suburbs adjoined the city : in the one towards 
 the sea were dwelling houses of the most opulent inhabitants, 
 adorned with hanging gardens ; the other, on the land side, 
 was thickly peopled, and surrounded by strong walls and 
 towers. 
 
 Malaga possessed a brave and numerous garrison, and the 
 common people were active, hardy and resolute ; but the city 
 vru rich and commercial, and under the habitual control of 
 numerous opulent merchants, who dreaded the ruinous con- 
 sequences of a siege. They were little zealous for the 
 warlike renown of their city, and longed rather to participate 
 in the enviable security of property, and the lucrative privi- 
 leges 6f safe tra£Sc with the Christian territories, granted to 
 all places which declared for Boabdil. At the head of these 
 gainM citizens was Ali Dordux, a mighty merchant of un- 
 counted wealth, whose ships traded to every port of the 
 Levant, and whose word was a law in Malaga. 
 
 Ali Dordux assembled the most opulent and important of 
 his commercial brethren, and they repaired in a body to the 
 alcabaza, where they were received by the alcayde, Albozen 
 Connexa, with that deference generally shown to men of 
 their great local dignity and power of purse. Ali Dordux 
 Was ample and stately in his form, and fluent and emphatic in 
 his discourse. His eloquence had an efiect, therefore, upon 
 the alcayde, as he represented the hopelessness of a defence 
 •f Malaga, the misery that must attend a siege, and the ruin 
 <^ A oomptioa ^ Oibel-flao, the UU of the lIght>hoaie. 
 
DESCBIFTIOK OF MALAGA. 
 
 197 
 
 that must follow a capture by force of arms. On the other 
 hand, he set forth the grace that might be obtained from the 
 Castilian sovereigns by an early and volimtary acknowledg* 
 ment of Boabdil as king, the peaceful possession of their 
 property, and the profitable commerce with the Christian 
 ports that would be allowed them. He was seconded by his 
 weighty and important coadjutors: and the alcayde, act 
 customed to regard them as the arbiters of the affairs of the 
 place, yielded to their united counsels. He departed, there* 
 fore, with all speed to the Cliristian camp, empowered to 
 arrange a capitulation with the Castilian monarch, and in 
 the meantime his brother remained in command of the 
 alcazaba. 
 
 There was, at this time, as alcayde, in the old crag-built 
 castle of Gibralfaro, a warlike and fiery Moor, an implacable 
 enemy of the Christians. Tliis was no other than Hamet 
 Zeli, sumamed £1 Zegri, the once formidable alcayde of 
 Ronda, and the terror of its mountains. He had never for- 
 given the capture of his favourite fortress, and panted for 
 vengeance on the Christians. Notwithstanding his reverses, 
 he had retained the favour of El Zagol, who knew how to 
 appreciate a bold warrior of the kind, and had placed him in 
 command of this important fortress of Gibralfaro. 
 
 Hamet el Zegri had gathered round him the remnant of 
 his band of Gomeres, with others of the same tribe. These 
 fierce warriors were nestled, like so many war-hawks, about 
 their lofty cliff. They looked down with martial contempt 
 upon the commercial city of Malaga, which they were placed 
 to protect ; or rather, they esteemed it only for its military 
 importance and its capability of defence. They held no com<t 
 munion with its trading, gainful inhabitants, and even con* 
 sidered the garrison of the alcazaba as their inferiors. War 
 was their pursuit and passion ; they rejoiced in its turbulent 
 and perilous scenes; and, confident in the strength of the 
 city, and, above all, of their castle, they set at defiance the 
 menace of Christian invasion. There were among them^ 
 also, many apostate Moors, who had once embraced Christi- 
 anity, but had since recanted, and had fled from the vengeance 
 of the Inquisition. These were desperadoes, who had no 
 mercy to expect should they again fall into the hands of the 
 enemy. 
 
 Such were the fierce elements of the garrison of Gibral* 
 
 '■ 
 
 J 
 
i 
 
 ii 
 
 11 
 
 IM 
 
 THS OOXQUBST OF QSAKADA. 
 
 and its rage may easily be oofnoeived at bearnig, 
 iiuA Malaga was to be given up without a blow ; &at iS^tf 
 to sink into Christian vassals, under the intermediate 
 of Boabdil el Chieo, and that ike alcajde of the alca* 
 had departed to arrange the terms of capitulation, 
 
 ISamet el Zegri determmed to avert, by desperate means, 
 Hie threatened degradation. He knew that there was a large 
 ^ttij in the city faithful to El Zagal, being composed of 
 ^rarnke men, who had taken refi^ from the various moun- 
 tain towns which had been captured. Their feelings were 
 4ecperate as their fortunes, and, like Hamet, they panted fat 
 tcvenge upon the Christians. With these he had a secret 
 conference, and received assurances of their ar'herenoe to 
 him in any measures of defence. As to the council of peace- 
 <^ inhabitants, he considered it unworthy the consideration 
 of a soldier, and he spumed at the interference of the wealthy 
 merchant, Ali Dordux, in matters of warfure. 
 
 ** Still," said Hamet el Zegri, **let us proceed regularly." 
 fk> he descended with his Gomeres to the citadel, entered it 
 «addenly , put to death the brother of the alcayde and sach ai 
 llie garrison as made any demur, and then summoned tiie 
 principal inhabitants to deliberate on measures for the wdfive 
 of the city.* 
 
 The wealthy merchants again mounted to the citadel, ex- 
 eepting Ali Dordux, who refused to obey the summons. They 
 entered with hearts filled with awe, for they found Hamet 
 tnnrrounded by his grim African guard, and aU the array of 
 imlitary power, and they beheld the bloody traces of tlie 
 leoent massacre. 
 
 Hamet el Zegri rolled a dark and searching eye upon the 
 aarom bly. ** Who," said he, " is loyal and devoted to Muley 
 Abdalla el Zagal ?" Every one present asserted his loyalty. 
 '* Good !" said Hamet, '* and who is ready to prove his de- 
 motion to his sovereign by defendix^ this his important oi^ 
 to tike last extremity?" Every one present expressed his 
 veadiness. *' Enough," observed Hamet: **the alcaycte, 
 Alboaen Connexa, has proved himself a traitor to his sove- 
 Yeign and to you all ; for he has conspired to deliver the 
 |daoe to the Christians. It behoves you to choose some 
 Ofther commander, capable of defending your city against the 
 approaching enemy." The assembly declared unanimoosly, 
 * Can de los Palados, e. 83. 
 
SBMXRXPTIOir OV MALAGA. 
 
 190 
 
 tthttt iliere oonld be none so worthy of the command ai 
 hioMelf. So Hamet el Zegri was appointed alcayde of 
 Malaga, and immediately proceeded to man the forts and 
 towns with his partisans, and to make every preparation 
 for a desperate resistance. 
 
 Intel%enoe of these occurrences put an end to the 
 aegociations between King Ferdinand and the superseded 
 alutyde Alboaen Connexa, and it was supposed that there 
 wm no alternative but to lay siege to the place. The Mar* 
 ^pa» of Cadis, however, found at Velez a Moorish cavalier 
 fai some note, a native of Malaga, who offered to tamper with 
 Hamet el Zegri for the surrender of the city ; or, at least, 
 of the castle of QibralfiEtro. The marquis communicated 
 this to the kii^. '* I put this business and the key of my 
 treasury in your hand,*' said Ferdinand : act, stipulate, and 
 disburse, in my name, as you think proper." 
 
 The marquis armed the Moor with lus own lance, cuirass, 
 and tai^t, and mounted him on one of his own horses. He 
 equipped, also, in similar style, another Moor, his companion 
 and relation. They bore secret letters to Hamet from the 
 marquis, offering mm the town of Coin in X)erpetual inherit- 
 ance, and four thousand doblas in gold, if he would deliver 
 np Gtibralfaro ; together with lai^e simis to be distributed 
 among his officers and soldiers; and he held out unlimited 
 rewards for the surrender of the city."* 
 
 Hamet had a warrior's admiration for the Marquis of Cadiz, 
 and received his messengers with courtesy, in his fortress of 
 XHbralfioro. He even listened to their propositions with 
 patience, and dismissed them in safety, though with an 
 absolute refusal. The marquis thought his reply was not so 
 peremptory as to discourage another effort. The emissaries 
 were despatched, therefore, a second time, with further propo> 
 sitions. They approached Malaga in the night ; but found 
 the guards doubled, patroles abroad, and the whole place on 
 the alert. They were discovered, pursued, and only saved 
 •themselves by the fleetness of their steeds, and their know- 
 ledge of the passes of the mountains. 
 
 Finding all attempts to tamper with the faith of Hamet el 
 Zegri utterly futile. King Feridinand publicly summoned the 
 city to surrender ; offering the most fiEivourable terms in case 
 of immediate compliance, but threatening captivity to all the 
 inhabitants in case gf resistance. 
 
 * Cora de los Palacioiii c. 82. 
 
 ^!^n 
 
 H 
 
300 
 
 THE C0KQUE8T OF QUAVkJik, 
 
 The message was delivered in presence of the principal 
 inhabitants, who, however, were too much in awe of the stem 
 alcayde to utter a word. Hnmet el Zegri then rose haughtily, 
 and replied, that the city of Malaga had not been confided to 
 him to be surrendered, but defended ; and the king should 
 witness how he acquitted himself of his charge.* 
 
 The messengers returned with formidable accounts of thd 
 force of the garrison, the strength of the fortifications, and 
 the determined spirit of the commander and his men. The 
 king immediately sent orders to have the heavy artillery 
 forwarded from Antequera ; and, on the 7th of May, marched 
 with his army towards Malaga. 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 The army of Ferdinand advanced in lengthened line, glit- 
 tering along the foot of the mountains which border the 
 Mediterranean; while a fleet of vessels, freighted with 
 heavy artillery and warlike munitions, kept pace with it, at a 
 short distance from the land, covering the sea with a thou- 
 sand gleaming sails. When Hamet el Zegri saw this force 
 approaching, he set fire to the houses of the suburbs which 
 adjoined the walls, and sent forth three battalions to encounter 
 the advance guard of the enemy. 
 
 The Christian army drew near to the city at that end 
 where the castle and rocky height of Gibralfaro defend the 
 seabord. Immediately opposite to the castle, and about two 
 bow-shots* distance, and between it and the high chain of 
 mountains, was a steep and rocky hill, commanding a pass 
 through which the Christians must march to penetrate to the 
 vega, and surround the city. Hamet el Zegri ordered the 
 ihree battalions to take their stations, one on this hill, another 
 in the pass near the castle, and a third on the side of the 
 mountain near the sea. 
 
 A borlv of Spamsh foot soldiers of the advance guard, 
 sturdy mountaineers of Gallicia, sprang forward to climb the 
 side of the height next the sea ; at the same time a number 
 of cavaliers and hidalgos of the royal household attacked the 
 Moors who guarded the pass below. The Moors defended 
 their posts >^ith obstinate valour. The Gallicians were xe- 
 
 * Polgar, part UL cap. 74. 
 
▲DVAVOS OF CINO FSBDllTAlfD. 
 
 "M 
 
 peaiedly overpowered and driven down the hill, but a« often 
 rallied ; and, being reinforced by the hidalg;08 and cavaliers, 
 returned to the assault. This obstinate struggle lasted for 
 six hours. The strife was of a deadly kind, not merely with 
 crossbows and arquebuses, but hand to hand, with swords and 
 daggers : no quarter was claimed or given on either side ; 
 they fought not to make captives, but to slay. It was but the 
 advance guard of the Christian army that was engaged : so 
 narrow was the pass along the coast, tnat the army could pro« 
 ceed only in file. Horse and foot, and beasts of burden, were 
 crowded one upon another, impeding each other, and block* 
 ing up the narrow and rti^ed defile. The soldiers heard 
 the uproar of the battle, the sound of trumpets, and the war 
 cries of the Moors, but tried in vain to press forward to the 
 assistance of their companions. 
 
 At length a body of foot soldiers of the Holy Brotherhood 
 climbed, with great difficulty, the steep side of the moimtain 
 which overhimg the pass, and advanced with seven banners 
 displayed. The Moors, seeing this Ibrce above them, aban-* 
 doned the pass in despair. , 
 
 The battle was still raging on the height. The Gallicians* 
 though supported by Castilian troops, under Don Hurtado de 
 Mendoza and Oarcillaso de la Vega, were severely pressed, 
 and roughly handled by the Moors. At length a brave 
 standard-bearer, Luys Mazedo by name, threw himself into 
 the midst of the enemy, and planted his banner on the 
 simimit. The Gallicians and Castilians, stimulated by this 
 noble self-devotion, followed him, fighting desperately, and 
 the Moors were at length driven to their cistle of Uibral<» 
 faro.* 
 
 This important height being taken, the pass lay open to 
 the army : but by this time evening was advancing, and the 
 host was too weary and exhausted to seek proper situations 
 for the encampment. The king, attended by several grandees 
 and cavaliers, went the rounds at night, stationing outposts 
 towards the city, and guards and putroles to give the alam^ 
 on the least movement of the enemy. All night the Christians 
 lay upon their arms, lest there should be some attempt to 
 sally forth and attack them. 
 
 When the morning dawned, the king guzed with admira* 
 
 * Palgar, Cronica, 
 
 ^' I 
 
 i 
 
THS CONQimT OF OE1.KA.DA. 
 
 ikm at this city, which he hoped «oon to add to his dominioiw. 
 It was suiTounded on one side by vineyards, gardens, 
 Wid orchards, which covered the hills with verdure; on 
 iflie other side its walls were bathed by the smooth and 
 tranquil sea. Its vast and lofty towers, and prodigious 
 iSMtles showed the labours of magnanimous men, in former 
 ^irnes, to protect their fiivouritc abode. Hai^ng gardens, 
 ^groves of oranges, citrons, and pomegranates, with tall cedars 
 ■and stately palms, were mingled with the stem battlements 
 and towers, bespeaking the opulence and luxury that reigned 
 within. 
 
 In the meantime the Christian army poured through the 
 ]nss, and throwing out its columns, and extending its lines, 
 took possession o£ every vantage-ground around the city. 
 King Ferdinand surveyed the ground, and appointed the 
 •tetions of the different commanders. 
 
 The important mount, which had cost so evident a struggle, 
 «nd which faced the powerful fortress of Oibralfaro, was 
 ttiven in chax^ to Roderigo Ponce de Leon, the Marquis of 
 Cadiz, who in all sieges claimed the post of danger. He had 
 several noble cavaliers, with their retainers, in his encamp- 
 ment, which consisted of fifteen hundred horse, and fourteen 
 thousand foot ; and extended from the summit of the mount 
 to the margin of the sea, completely blocking up the approach 
 to the city on that side. From this post a line of encamp- 
 ments extended quite round the city to the seabord, fortified 
 by bulwarks and deep ditches ; while a fleet of armed shipa 
 and gallevs stretched before the harbour, so that the place 
 was completely invested by sea and land. The various parts 
 of the valley now resounded with the din of preparation, and 
 were filled with artificers preparing warlike engines and mu- 
 nitions : armourers and smiths, with glowing forges and 
 deafening hammers ; carpenters and engineers constructing 
 machines wherewith to assail the walls ; stone-cutters shaping 
 stone balls for the ordnance ; and burners of charcoal prepar- 
 ingftiel for the ftimaces and forges. 
 
 when the encampment was formed, the heavy ordnance 
 was huided from the ships, and mounted in various parts of the 
 camp. Five huge lombords were placed on the mount, com- 
 manded by the Marquis of Cadiz, so as to bear upon the 
 castle of Oibralforo. 
 
 The Moors made strennous efibrts to impede these prepara* 
 
▲DTANCE OF KIHO FEBDIHAKD. 
 
 308 
 
 tions. A heavy fire was kept up from their ordnance upon the 
 men employed in digging trenches or constructing batteries, 
 «o t^t the latter had to work principally in the night. The 
 royal tents had been stationed conspicuously and widiin 
 areadi o£ the Moorish batteries, but were so warmly assailed 
 that they had to be removed behind a hill. 
 
 When the works were completed, the Christian batteries 
 opened in return, and kept up a tremendous cannonade, while 
 the fleet, approaching the land, assailed the city vigorously 
 on the opposite side. 
 
 *' It was a glorious and delectable sight," observes Fray 
 Antonio Agapida, " to behold this infidel city thus surrounded 
 by sea and land by a mighty Christian force. Every mound 
 in its circuit was, as it were, a little city of tents, bearing the 
 standard of some renowned Catholic warrior. Besides the 
 warlike ships and galleys which lay before the place, the sea 
 was covered with innumerable sails, passing and repassing, 
 ajppearing and disappearing, being engird in bringing sup- 
 plses for the subsistence of the army. It would have seemed 
 a vast spectacle contrived to recreate the eye, had not the 
 volleying bursts of flame and smoke from the ships, which 
 appeared to lie asleep on the quiet sea, and the tliunder of 
 ordnance fro. ^ camp and city, from tower and battlement, 
 told the deadly war&re that was waging." 
 
 At night the scene was far more direful than in the day. 
 The cheerful light of the sun was gone ; there was nothing 
 but the flashes of artillery, or the baleful gleams of combus- 
 tibles thrown into the city, and the conflagration of the 
 houses, llie fire kept up from the Christian batteries was 
 inccsRant; there were seven great lombards, in particular, 
 oalled the Seven Sisters of Ximenes, which did tremendous 
 execution. The Moorish ordnance replied in thunder frxmi 
 the walls; Oibraliaro was wrapped in volumes of smoke, 
 n^ing about its base ; and Ilamet el Zegri and his Oomeres 
 looked out with Iriumph upon the tempest of war they had 
 awakened. '* Truly they were so many demons incarnate," 
 ■ays tlie pious Fray Antonio Agapida, ** who were permitted 
 by Heaven to enter into and possess this infidel city for its 
 perdition." 
 
 m 
 
 ^;» 'I 
 
204 
 
 THE COK QUEST OF OBANADA. 
 
 f 
 
 
 CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 The attack on Malaga by sea and land was kept up for 
 several days with tremendous violence, but without producing 
 any great impression, so strong were the ancient bulwarks of 
 the city. The Count de Cifuentcs was the first to signalize 
 himself by any noted achievement. A main tower of the 
 suburbs had been shattered by the ordnance, and the battle- 
 ments demolished, so as to yield no shelter to its defenders. 
 Seeing this, the count assembled a gallant band of cavaliers 
 of the royal household, and advanced to take it by storm ; 
 they applied scaling ladders, and mounted sword in hand. 
 The Moors, having no longer battlements to protect them* 
 descended to a lower floor, and made furious resistance from 
 the windows and loopholes ; they poured down boiling pitch 
 and rosin, and hurled stones, and darts, and arrows on the as- 
 sailants. Many of the Christians were slain ; their ladders 
 were destroyed by flaming combustibles, and the count was 
 obliged to retreat from before the tower. On the following 
 day ho renewed the attack with superior force, and, after a 
 severe combat, succeeded in planting his victorious banner on 
 the tower. 
 
 The Moors now assailed the tower in their turn ; they un- 
 dermined the part towards the city, placed props of wood 
 under the foundation, and, setting fire to them, drew off to 
 a distance. In a little while the props gave way, the founda- 
 tion sank, the tower was rent, part of its wall fell with a 
 tremendous noise, many of the Christians were thrown out 
 headlong, and the rest were laid open to the missiles of the 
 enemy. 
 
 By this time, however, a breach had been made in the 
 wall adjoining the tower, and troops poured in to the assist- 
 ance of their comrades. A continued battle was kept up for 
 two days and a night by reinforcements from camp and city. 
 The parties fought backwards and forwards through the 
 breach of the wall, with alternate success, and the vicinity of 
 the town war strewed with the dead and wounded. At length 
 the Moors gradually gave way, disputing every inch of 
 ground, until they were driven into the city ; and the 
 Christians remained masters of the greater pait of the suburb. 
 
 This partial success, though gained with great toil and 
 bloodshed, gave temporary animation to the Christians. They 
 
SIEGE OF MALAGA. 
 
 205 
 
 in the 
 > assist- 
 up for 
 id city, 
 gh the 
 inity of 
 length 
 nch of 
 nd the 
 uburb. 
 oil nnd 
 They 
 
 soon found, however, that the attack on the main works of 
 the city was a much move arduous task. The garrison con- 
 tained veterans who had served in many of the towns cap- 
 tured by the Cliristians : they were no longer confounded and 
 dismayed by the battering ordnance and other strange en- 
 gines of foreign invention, and had become expert in pairy- 
 ing their effects, in repairing breaches, and erecting counter- 
 works. 
 
 The Christians, accustomed of late to speedy conquests of 
 Moorish fortresses, became impatient of the slow progress of the 
 siege. Many were apprehensive of a scarcity of provisions, 
 from the difficidty of subsisting so numerous a host in the 
 heart of the enemies' country, where it was necessary to 
 transport supplies across rugged and hostile mountains, or 
 subjected to the uncertainties of the seas. Many were also 
 alarmed at a pestilence which broke out in the neighbouring 
 villages, and some were so overcome by these apprehensions, 
 as to abandon the camp and return to their homes. 
 
 Several of the loose and worthless hangers-on, that infest 
 nil great armies, hearing these murmurs, thought that the 
 siege would soon be raised, and deserted to the enemy, hoping 
 to make their fortunes ; they gave exaggerated accounts of 
 the alarms and discontents of the army, and represented the 
 troops OS daily returning home in bands. Above all, they de- 
 clared, that the gunpowder was nearly exhausted, so that 
 the artillery would soon be useless. They assured the Moors, 
 therefore, thot, if they persisted in their defence a little 
 longer, the king would be obliged to draw off his forces and 
 abandon the siege. 
 
 The reports of these renegadoes gave fresh courage to the 
 garrison ; they made vigorous sallies upon the camp, harass* 
 ing it by night and day, and obliging everv part to be guarded 
 'with the most painful vigilance ; they fortified the weak parts 
 of their walls with ditches and palisodoes, and gave every 
 manifestation of a determined and unyielding spirit. 
 
 Ferdinand soon received intelligence of the reports which 
 had been carried to the Moors. He imderstood, that they 
 had been informed, likewise, that the queen was alarmed for 
 the safetv of the camp, and had written repeatedly, urging 
 him to abandon the siege. As the best means of disproving 
 all these falsehoods, and of destroying the vain hopes of the 
 enemy, Ferdinand wrote to the queen, entreating her to como 
 and take up her residence in the camp. 
 
 
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206 
 
 THE CONQUEST OV aXAJTADA. 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 Obvat was the enthusiasm of the army, when they heheld 
 their patriot queen advancing in state, to share the toils and 
 dangers of her people. Isabella entered the camp, attended 
 by &c dignitaries, and the whole retinue of her court, to 
 manifest, that this was no temporary visit. On one side of her 
 was her daughter the Infanta ; on the other, the grand car- 
 dinal of Spain; and Hernando de Talavera, the prior of 
 Praxo, confessor to the queen, followed, with a great train 
 of prelates, courtiers, cavaliers, and ladies of distincticm. 
 The cavalcade moved in calm and stately order through the 
 camp, softening the iron aspect of \^ar by this array of 
 courtly grace and female b~auty. 
 
 Isabella had commanded, that, on her coming to the camp, 
 the horrors of war should be suspended, and fresh offers of 
 
 Eeace made to the enemy. On her arrival, therefore, there 
 ad been a cessation of firing throughout the camp. A mes- 
 senger was at the same time despatched to the besieged, in- 
 forming them of her being in the camp, and of the determi-> 
 nation of the sovereigns to make it their settled residence, 
 until the city should be taken. The same terms were offered 
 in case of immediate surrender, that had been granted to 
 Velcz Malaga, but the inhabitanta were threatened with oap- 
 ti\ity and the sword, should they persist in their defi^ce. 
 
 Hamet el Zegri received this message with haughty con- 
 tempt, and dismissed the messenger without deigning a reply. 
 ",The Christian sovereigns," said he, ** have made this offiur, 
 in consequence of their despair. The silence of their batte- 
 ries proves the truth of what has been told us, that their 
 powder is exhausted ; they have no longer the means of de^ 
 molishing our walls ; and, if tiiey remain much longer, tho 
 autumnal rains will interrupt tneir convoys, and fill their 
 camp with famine and disease ; the first storm will disperse 
 their fleet, which has no neighbouring port of shelter. Africa 
 will then be open to us, to procure reinforcements and sup- 
 plies." 
 
 llie words of Hamet el Zegri were hailed as oracular by 
 his adherents. Many of the peaceful part of the communis, 
 however, ventured to remonstrate, and to implore him to 
 accept the pro^red mercy. The stem Hamet silenced them 
 ivith a terrific threat. He declared, that whoever should talk 
 
 of capitt 
 
 Christiai 
 
 tme men 
 
 tain as ii 
 
 the inha 
 
 ^ey set 
 
 effects. 
 
 who had 
 
 mute, an 
 
 alacrity i 
 
 When 
 
 the conte 
 
 dinand w 
 
 firing, on 
 
 the enem 
 
 he order< 
 
 sudden b 
 
 Moors of 
 
 citizens, i 
 
 or their d 
 
 That e^ 
 
 Marquis < 
 
 of the cit 
 
 great ma( 
 
 and Fren( 
 
 style, anc 
 
 tents of o 
 
 a gay and 
 
 Here a sj 
 
 and the < 
 
 campmen 
 
 music, ma 
 
 over the ( 
 
 The Ml 
 
 his royal 
 
 the warhl 
 
 also to b( 
 
 court mig 
 
 The &ir 
 
 mountain 
 
 artillery, 
 
 walls tum 
 
OBSTIITACT OF HAKST XI. ZBOXI. 
 
 207 
 
 ■up- 
 
 of capitulating, or should hold any communication with the 
 ChristianSv should be put to death. His fierce Oomeres, like 
 true men of the sword, acted upon the menace of their chief, 
 tain as upon a written law, and, having detected several of 
 the inhabitants in secret correspondence with the enemy, 
 they set upon and slew them, and then confiscated their 
 effects. This struck such terror into the citizens, that those 
 who had been loudest in their murmurs became suddenly 
 mute, and were remarked as evincing the greatest bustle and 
 alacrity in the defence of the city. 
 
 When the messenger retmmed to the camp, and reported 
 the contemptuous eception of the royal messfige. King Fer- 
 dinand was exceedingly indignant. Finding the cessation of 
 firing, on the queen's arrival, had encouraged a belief among 
 the enemy, that tLere was a t^arcity of powder in the camp, 
 he ordered a general discharge from every battery. This 
 sudden burst of war fi^m every quarter soon convinced the 
 Moors of their error, and completed the confusion of the 
 citizens, who knew not which most to dread, their assailants 
 or their defenders, the Christians or the Qomeres. 
 
 That evening the sovereigns visited the encampment of t^ 
 Marquis of Cadiz, which comnumded a view over a great part 
 of the city and the camp. The tent of the marquis was of 
 great magnitude, fiuuished with hangings of rich brocade, 
 and French cloth of the rarest texture. It was in the oriental 
 style, and, as it crowned the height, with the surrounding' 
 tents of other cavaliers, all sumptuously furnished, presented 
 a gay and silken contrast to the opposite towers of Gibralfiuro. 
 Here a splendid collation was served up to the sovereigns; 
 and the courtly revel that prevailed on this chivalrous en- 
 campment, the glitter of pageantiy, and the bursts of festive 
 music, made more striking the gloom and silence that reigned 
 over the daric Moorish castle. 
 
 The Marquis of Cadiz, while it was yet li^t, conducted 
 his royal visitors to every point that commanded a view of 
 the warUke scene below. He caused the heavy lombards' 
 also to be discharged, that the queen and the ladies of the 
 court might witness the effect of those tremendous engines. 
 The foir dames were filled with awe and admiration, as th« 
 mountain shook beneath their feet with the thunder of the* 
 artillery, und they beheld great fragments of the Moorisk 
 walls tumbling down the rocks and precipiQes. 
 
 ^r^^ 
 
 fr 
 
208 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBANAOA. 
 
 : 
 
 While the good marquis was displaying these things to his 
 royal guests, he lifted up his eyes, and, to his astonishment, 
 beheld his own banner hanging out from the nearest tower of 
 Gibralfaro. The blood mantled in his cheek, for it was a 
 banner which he had lost at the time of the memorable 
 massacre of the heights of Malaga. To mi?ke this taimt more 
 evident, several of the Gomeres displayed themselves upon 
 the battlements, arrayed in the helmets and cuirasses of some 
 of the cavaliers, slain or captured on that occasion.* The 
 Marquis of Cadiz restrained his indignation, and held his 
 peace ; but several of his cavaliers vowed loudly to revenge 
 this ciniel bravado on the ferocious garrison of Gibralfaro. 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 The Marquis of Cadiz was not a cavalier that readily 
 forgave an injury or an insult. On the morning after the 
 royal banquet, his batteries opened a tremendous fire upon 
 Gibralfaro. All day the encampment was wrapped in wreaths 
 of smoke; nor did the assault cease with the day, but 
 throughout the night there was an incessant flashing and 
 thundering of the lombards, and the following morning the 
 assault rather increased than slackened in its fury. The 
 Moorish bulwarks were no proof against these formidable 
 engines. In a few days the lofty tower, on which the taunt- 
 ing banner had been displaved, was shattered; a smaller 
 tower, in its vicinity, reduced to ruins; and a great breach 
 made in the intervening walls. 
 
 Several of the hot-spirited cavaliers were eager for storm- 
 ing the breach sword in hand; others, more cool and wary, 
 pointed out the rashness of such an attempt; for the Moors, 
 working indefatigably in the night, had dug a deep ditch 
 within the breach, and had fortified it with palisadoes and a 
 high breastwork. All, however, agreed, that the camp might 
 Safely be advanced near to the ruined walls, and that it 
 ought to be so placed, in return for the insolent defiance of 
 the enemy. 
 
 The Marquis of Cadiz felt the temerity of the measure; 
 
 but he was imwilling to damp the zeal of these high-spirited 
 
 cavaliers; and, having chosen the post of danger in the camp, 
 
 it did not become him to decline any service, merely because 
 
 * Diego d« Yslen, Croniok, M.S, 
 
ATTACK UPON GIBBALFABO. 
 
 209 
 
 it might appear periloutn. He ordered his outposts, therc-^ 
 fore, to be advanced within a stonesthrow of the breach, but 
 exhorted the soldiers to maintain the utmost >'i^lance. 
 
 The thunder of the batteries had ceased; the troops, ex-< 
 hausted by two nights' fatigue and watchfuhiess, and appre- 
 hending no danger from the dismantled walls, were half of 
 them asleep; the rest were scattered about in negligent 
 security. On a sudden, upwards of two thousand Moors 
 sallied forth from the castle, led on by Abraham Zenete, the 
 principal captain under llamet. They fell with fearful havoc 
 upon the advanced guard, slaying many of them in their 
 sleep, and putting the rest to lieadlong flight. The marquis 
 was in his tent, about a bowshot distance, when he heard the 
 tumult of the onset, and beheld his men flying in confusion. 
 He rushed forth, followed by his standardbearers. "Turn 
 again, cavaliers!" exclaimed he; ^'turn again! I am here. 
 Ponce de Leon ! To the foe! to the foe !" The flying troops 
 stopped at hearing his well-known voice, rallied under his 
 banner, and turned upon the enemy. The encampment by« 
 this time was roused; several cavaliers from the adjoining 
 stations had hastened to the scene of action, with a number 
 of Gallicians, and soldiers of the Holy Brotherhood. An 
 obstinate and bloody contest ensued. The ruggedness of the 
 place, the rocks, chasms, and declivities, broke it into nume- 
 rous combats. Christian and Moor fought hand to hand, 
 with swords and daggers; and often, grappling and strug- 
 gling, rolled together down the precipices. 
 
 The banner of the marquis was in danger of being taken. 
 He hastened to its rescue, followed by some of his bravest 
 cavaliers.^ They were surrounded by the enemy, and several 
 of them cut down. Don Diego Ponce de Leon, brother to 
 the marquis, was wounded by an arrow ; and his son-in-law, 
 Luis Ponce, was likewise wounded: they succeeded, however, 
 in rescuing the banner, and bearing it off in safety, llie 
 battle lasted for an hour : the height was covered with killed 
 and wounded; and the blood flowed in streams down the 
 rocks. At length, Abraham Zenete being disabled by the 
 tlirust of a lauce, the Moors gave way, and retreated to th^ 
 castle. 
 
 They now opened a galling fire from their battlements and 
 towers, approaching the breaches, so as to dis'harge their 
 crossbows and arquebuses into the advance ^ uird of the 
 
 imi\: 
 
 
tin 
 
 THE COKQUEST OT GBAXADA. 
 
 encampment. The marquis was singled out: the shot fell 
 tiuck about him, and one passed through his buckler, and 
 struck upon his cuirass, but without doing him any injury. 
 Every one now saw the danger and inutility of approaching 
 the camp thus near to the castle'; and those who had coim- 
 selled it were now urgent that it should be withdrawn. It 
 was accordingly removed back to its original ground, from 
 which the marquis had most reluctantly advanced it. No- 
 thing but his valour and timely aid had prevented this attack 
 from ending in a total rout of all that part of the army. 
 
 Many cavaliers of distinction fell in this contest ; but the 
 loss of none was felt more deeply than that of Ortega de 
 Prado, captain of escaladors. He was one of the bravest 
 men in the service; the same who had de\a8ed the first 
 successful blow of the war, the storming of Alhama, where 
 he was the first to plant and mount the scaling ladders. He 
 had always been high in the favour and confidence of the 
 noble Ponce de Leon, who knew how to appreciate and avail 
 Mmself of the merits of all able and valiant men.* 
 
 CHAPTER LVI. 
 
 Great were the exertions now made, both by the besiegers 
 and the besieged, to carry on this contest with the utmost 
 vigour. Hamet al Zegri went the rounds of the walls and 
 towers, doubling the guai-ds, and putting everything into the 
 best posture of defence. Tlie garrison was divided into 
 parties of a hundred, to each of which a captain was appointed. 
 Some were to patrole; others to sally forth and skirmish with 
 the enemy ; and others to hold themselves ready armed and 
 in reser^-c. Six albatoras, or floating batteries, were manned, 
 and armed with pieces of artillery to attack the fleet. 
 
 On the other hand, the Castilian sovereigns kept open a 
 communication, by sea, with various parts of Spain, from 
 which they received provisions of all kinds. They ordered 
 supplies of powder, also, from Valencia, Barcelona, Sicily, 
 and Portugiu. They made great preparations for storming 
 the city. Towers of wood were constructed, to move on 
 wheels, each capable of holding one hundred men. They 
 were furnished with ladders, to be thrown from their summits 
 to the tops of the walls; and within those ladders others 
 * Zurita. Muriana, Abarea. 
 
 
SZEOK OF MAULOA COWTIKVKD. 
 
 an 
 
 ,> 
 
 were incased, to be let down for the descent of the troops 
 into the city. There were gallipogos, or tortoises, also; being 
 great wooden shields, covered with hides, to protect the 
 assailants, and those who undermined the walls. 
 
 Secret mines were commenced in various places. Some 
 were intended to reach to the foundations of the walls, which 
 were to be propped up with wood, ready to be set on fire ; 
 others were to pass under the walls, and remain ready to be 
 broken open, so as to give entrance to the besiegers. At 
 these mines the army worked day and night ; and, during 
 these secret preparations, the ordnance kept up a fire upon 
 the city, to divert the attention of the besieged. 
 
 In the meantime, Hamct el Zegri displayed wonderful 
 vigour and ingenuity in defending the city, and in repairing, 
 or fortifying by deep ditches, the breaches made by the 
 enemy. He noted, besides, every place where the camp 
 might be assaOed with advantage, and gave the besieging 
 army no repose, night or day. While his troops sallied on 
 the land, his floating batteries attacked the besiegers on the 
 sea; so that there was incessant skirmishing. The tents, 
 oalled the queen's hospital, were crowded with wounded, and 
 the whole army suffered from constant watchfulness and 
 fiitigue. To guard against the sudden assaults of the Moors, 
 the trenches were deepened, and palisadoes erected in front of 
 the camp; and in that part facing Gibralfaro, where the rocky 
 heights did not admit of such defences, a high rampart of 
 earth was thrown up. The cavaliers Gnrcilasso de la Vega, 
 Juan de Zuniga, and Diego de Ataydc, were appointed to go 
 the roimds, and keep vigilant watch that tliese fortifications 
 were maintained in good order. 
 
 In a little while Hamet discovered the mines secretly com- 
 menced by the Christians. He immediately ordered counter- 
 mines. The soldiers mutually worked until they met, and 
 fought hand to hand in these subterranean passages. The 
 Christians were driven out of one of their mines ; fire was set 
 to the wooden framework, and the mine destroyed. Encou- 
 raged by this success, the Moors attempted a general attack 
 upon the mines and the besieging fleet. The battle lasted for 
 six hours, on land and water, above and below ground, on 
 bulwark and in trench and mine. The Moors displayed won- 
 derful intrepidity, but were finally repulsed at all points, and 
 obliged to retire into the city, where they were closelj 
 
 r a 
 
 m 
 
 I 
 
213 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBANADA. 
 
 invested, without the means of receiving any assistance from 
 abroad. 
 
 The horrors of famine were now added to the other miseries 
 of Malaga. Hamct el Zegri, with the spirit of a man bred 
 up to war, considered everything as subservient to the wants 
 of the soldier, and ordered all the grain in the city to be 
 gathered and garnered up for the sole use of those who fought. 
 Even this was dealt out sparingly ; and each soldier received 
 four ounces of bread in the morning, and two in the evenings 
 for his daily allowance. 
 
 The wealthy inhabitants, and all those peacefully inclined, 
 mourned over a resistance which brought desti-uction 'inon 
 their houses, death into their families, and which they saw 
 must end in their ruin and captivity. Still, none of them 
 dared to speak openly of capitulation, or even to manifest 
 their grief, lest they should awaken the wrath of their fierce 
 defenders. They surrounded their civic champion, Ali 
 Dordux, the great and opulent merchant, who had buckled 
 on shield and cuirass, and taken spear in hand for the defence 
 of his native city ; and, with a large body of the braver 
 citizens, had charge of one of the gates ai <! a considerable 
 portion of the walls. Drawing Ali Dordux aside, they 
 poured forth their giiefs to him in secret. " Why," said 
 they, " should we suffer our native city to be made a mere 
 bulwark and fighting place for foreign barbarians and despe* 
 rate men ? They have no families to care for^ no property to 
 lose, no love for the soil, and no value for their lives. They 
 fight to gratify a thirst for blood, or a desire for revenge, and 
 will fight on until Malaga be made a ruin, and its people 
 slaves. Let us think and act for ourselves, our wives, and 
 our children. Let us make private tenns with the Christians 
 before it is too late, and so save ourselves from destruction." 
 
 The bowels of Ali Dordux yearned towards his fellow-* 
 citizens. He bethought him also of the sweet security of 
 peace, and the bloodless, yet gratifying, triumphs of gainful 
 commerce. The idea likewise of a secret negocintion or 
 bargain with the Castilian sovereigns, for the redemption of 
 his native city, was more conformable to his accustomed 
 habits than this violent appeal to arms ; for though he 
 had, for a time, assumed the warrior, he had not forgotten 
 the merchant. Ali Dordux communed, therefore, with 
 the citizen-soldiers under his command, and they readily 
 

 SIEGE OF MALAGA COKTINFES. 
 
 M 
 
 eonformed to his opinion. Concerting together, they wrote A 
 proposition to the Castilinn sovereigns, offering to ndmit the 
 army into the part of the city intrusted to their care, on 
 receiving assurance of protection for the lives and property 
 of the inhabitants. This writing they delivered to a trusty 
 emissary, to take to the Christian camp, appointing the hour 
 and place of his return, that they might be ready to admit 
 him unpcrceived. 
 
 The Moor made his way in safety to the camp, and was 
 admitted to the presence of the sovereigns. Eager to gain 
 the city without further cost of blood or treasure, they gave a 
 written promise to grant the conditions, and the Moor set out 
 joyfully on his return. As he approached the walls where 
 Ali Dordux and his confederates were waiting to receive him, 
 he was descried by a patrolling band of Gomeres, and consi* 
 dered a spy coming from the camp of the besiegers. They 
 issued forth, and seized him, in sight of his employers, who 
 gave themselves up for lost. The Gomeres had conducted 
 him nearly to the giite, when he escaped from their grasp and 
 fied. They endeavoured to overtake him, but were encum> 
 bered with armour ; he was lightly clad, and he fled for his 
 life. One of the Gomeres paused, and, levelling his crossbow, 
 let fly a bolt, which pici'ced the fugitive between the shoul- 
 ders ; he fell, and was nearly withm their grasp ; but rose 
 i^in, and, with a desperate efibrt, attained the Christian 
 camp. The Gomeres gave over the pursuit, and the citizens 
 returned thanks to Alia for their deliverance from this fearful 
 peril. As to the faithful messenger, he died of his wound 
 shortly after reaching the camp, consoled with the idea that 
 he had preserved the secret and the lives of his employers. 
 
 CHAPTER LVII. 
 
 The sufferings of Malaga spread sorrow and anxiety among 
 the Moors ; and they dreaded lest this beautiful city, once the 
 bulwark of the kingdom, should fall into the kands of the 
 unbelievers. The old warrior king, Abdalla el Zagal, was 
 still sheltered in Guadix, where he was slowly gathering 
 together his shattered forces. "When the people of Guadix 
 heard of the danger and distress of Malaga, they urged to be 
 led to its relief; and the alfaquis admonished El Zagal not to 
 desert so righteous and loyal a city in its extremity. His own 
 
 •f 
 
 
 I: 
 
 ,5 
 
 i 
 
iU 
 
 THB CONQUEST OF GBAWADA* 
 
 warlike nature made him feel a sympathy for a place, that 
 made so gaUant a resistance : and he despatched as powerfyk 
 a reinforcement as he could spare, under conduct of a choaea 
 captain, with orders to throw themselves into the city. 
 
 Intelligence of this reinforcement reached Boabdil el Chico, 
 in his royal palace of the Alhambra. Filled with hostili^ 
 {gainst his uncle, and desirous of proving his loyalty to the 
 Castilian sovereigns, he immediately sent forth ^ superior 
 force of horse and foot, to intercept the detachment. A 
 sharp conflict ensued ; the troops of El Zagal were routed 
 with great loss, and fled back in confusion, to Guadix. 
 
 Boabdil, not being accustomed to victories, was flushed 
 with this melancholy triumph. He sent tidings of it to the 
 Castilian sovereigns, accompanied with rich silks, boxes of 
 Arabian perfome, a cup of gold richly wrought, and a female 
 captive of Rebeda, as presents to the queen ; and four Arabian 
 steeds, magnificently caparisoned, a sword and da^er richly 
 mounted, and several albomozes and other robes, sumptuoudy 
 embroidered, for the king. He entreated thtm, at tiie same 
 time, always to look upon him with £Etyour, as their devoted 
 vassaL 
 
 Boabdil was fated to be unfortunate even in his yictories. 
 fiis defeat of the forces of his uncle, destined to the relief of 
 unhappy Malaga, shocked the feelings, and cooled the loyalty 
 of many of his best adherents. The mere men of traffic miglub 
 rejoice in their golden interval of peace, but the chivalrous 
 spirits of Granada spumed a security purcluused by such sacri- 
 fices of pride and affection. The people at lai^e, having gnu 
 tified their love of change, began to question whether ^ey 
 had acted generously by their old fighting monarch. ** £1 ' 
 Zagal," said they, " was fierce and bloody, but then he was 
 true to his country : he was an usurper, but then he main- 
 tained the glory of the crown which he usurped. If his 
 sceptre was a rod of iron to his subjects, it was a sword of 
 steel against their enemies. This Boabdil sacrifices religionv 
 Mends, country, everything, to a mere shadow of royalty, 
 and is content to hold a rush for a sceptre." 
 
 These factious murmurs soon reached the ears of Boabdil, 
 and he apprehended another of his customary reverses. He 
 sent in all haste to the Castilian sovereigns, beseeching mili- 
 tary aid to keep him on his throne. Ferdinand graciously 
 complied with a request so much in unison with his policy. 
 
SUFFEftlNOS OF MAJLAOA. 
 
 21A 
 
 A detachmert of one thousand cayalry, and two thousand 
 infJEUitry, were despatched, under the command of Don Fer- 
 nandez Gonsalez, of Cordova, subsequently renowned as the 
 grand captain. With this succour, Boabdil expelled from 
 die city sJl those who were hostile to him, and in favour ai 
 his imcle. He felt secure in these troops, from their being 
 distinct, in manners, language, and religion, from his subjects, 
 and compromised with his pride, in thus exhibiting that most 
 unnatural and humiliating of all regal spectacles, a monarch, 
 supported on his throne by foreign weapons, and by soldiers 
 hostile to his people. 
 
 Nor was Boabdil el Chico the only Moorish sovereign that 
 sought protection from Ferdinand and Isabella. A splendid 
 galley, with lateen sails, and several banks of oars, came one 
 day into the harbour of Malaga, displaying the standard of the 
 crescent, but likewise a white flag in sign of amity. An am- 
 bassador landed from it within the Christian lines. He came 
 from the King of Tremezan, and brought presents similar ta 
 ^ose of Boabdil, consisting of Arabian courses, bits, stirrups,, 
 and other furniture of gold, tt^ther with costly Moon^ 
 mantles : for the queen there were sumptuous shawls, robes, 
 and silken stuflls, ornaments of gold, and exquiute oriental 
 perfumes. 
 
 The King of Tremezan had been alarmed at the rapid con- 
 quests of the Spanish arms, and startled by the descent of 
 several Spanish cruisers on the coast of Africa. He craved to 
 be considered a vassal to the Castilian sovere^ns, and that 
 they would extend such fitvour and security to his ships and 
 subjects as had been shown to other Moors, who had submitted 
 to their sway. He requested a painting of their arms, that 
 he and his subjects might recognise and respect theirstandard, 
 whenever they encountered it. At the same time he implored 
 their clemency towards unhappy Malaga, and that its inhabi- 
 tacnts might experience the same favour that had been shown 
 towards the Moora of other captured cities. 
 
 This embassy was graciously received by the Castilian 
 sovereigns. They granted the protection required ; ordering 
 their commanikrs to respect the flag of Tremezan, unless it 
 a^ioold be found rendenng assistance to the enemy. They 
 sent also to the Barbary monarch their royal arms, moulded) 
 va escntclwons of gold a hand's-breadth in size.* 
 
 * Cora d« lo« Falacios, c. 84. Polgar, part, iii. e. 89. * 
 
 ♦ iv^ 
 
 1 ,« 
 
 t " 
 
 j.llHi! 
 
S16 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 While thus the chances of assistance from without daily 
 decreased, famine raged in the city. 'I'he inhabitants were 
 compelled to eat the flesh of horses, and many died of hunger. 
 What made the sufferings of the citizens the more intolerable 
 Was, to behold the sea covered with bhips, daily arriving with 
 
 E revisions for the besiegers. Day after day, also, they saw 
 erds of fat cattle and flocks of sheep drawn into the camp. 
 Wheat and flour were piled in large mounds in the centre of 
 tile encampments, glaring in the sunshine, and tantalizing the 
 wretched citizens, who, while they and their children were 
 perishing with hunger, beheld prodigal abundance reigning 
 within a bowshot of their walls. 
 
 CHAPTER LVIII. 
 
 There lived at this time, in a hamlet in the neighbourhood 
 of Giiadix, an ancient Moor, of the na.ne of Abraham Algerbi. 
 He was a native of Guerba, in the lungdom of Tunis, and had 
 for several years led the life of a santon or hermit. The hot 
 sun of Africa had dried his bluod, and rendered him of an 
 exalted yet melancholy temperament. He passed most of his 
 time in meditation, prayer, and rigorous abstinence, until his 
 body was wasted and his miiud bewildered, and he fancied 
 himself favoured with divine revelations. The Moors, who 
 have a great reverence for all enthusiasts of the kind, looked 
 upon him as inspired, listened to all his ravings as veritable 
 prophecies, and denominated him £1 Santo, or " the saint.'' 
 
 The woes of the kingdom of Granada had long exasperated 
 the gloomy spirit of this man ; and he had beheld with indig- 
 nation this beautiful country ^iTcsted from the dominion of the 
 faithful, and becoming a prey to the uubelievnrs. He had 
 implored the blessing of Allah on the troop<> which issued 
 forth from Guadix, for the relief of Malaga; but when he saw 
 them return, routed and scattered by their own countrymen, 
 he retired to his cell, shut himself up from the world, and was 
 plunged for a time in the blackest gloom. 
 
 Ov a sudden he made his appearance again in the streets of 
 Guadix ; his face haggard, his form emaciated, but his eye 
 beaming with fire. He said, that Allah had sent an angel to 
 him« in the solitude of his cell, revealing to him a mode of 
 delivering Malaga from its perils, and striking horror and 
 Qonfusioa iuto tiio cump of the uubcliovers. The Moors 
 
ATTEMPT TO DELITEK MALAGA. 
 
 2U 
 
 listened with eager credulity to his words : four hundred of 
 them offered to follow him even to the death, and to obey im- 
 plicitly his commands. Of this number many were Gomcres, 
 anxious to relieve their countrymen, who formed part of the 
 garrison of Malaga. 
 
 They traversed the kingdom by the wild and lonely passes 
 of the mountains, concealing themselves in the day, and tra- 
 velling only in the night, to elude the Christian scouts. At 
 length they arrived at the mountains which tower above 
 Malaga ; and, looking down, beheld the city completely in- 
 vested, a chain of encampments extending roimd it from shore 
 to shore, and a line of ships blockading it by sea, while the 
 continual thunder of artillery, and the smoke rising in various 
 parts, showed that the siege was pressed with great activity. 
 The hermit scanned the encampments warily from his lofty 
 height. He saw that the part of the encampment of the 
 Marquis of Cadiz, which was at the foot of the height, and on 
 the maq^n of the sea, M'as the most assailable, the rocky soil 
 not admitting ditches or palisadoes. Remaining concealed all 
 day, he descended with his followers at night to the seacoast, 
 and approached silently to the outworks. He had given them 
 their instructions: they were to rush suddenly upon the 
 camp, fight their way through, and throw themselves into 
 the city. 
 
 It was just at the gray of the dawning, when objects are 
 obscurely visible, that they made this desperate attempt. 
 Some sprang suddenly upon the sentinels : others rushed into 
 the sea, and got rotmd the works : others clambered over the 
 breastworks. There was sharp skirmishing ; a great part of 
 the Moors were cut to pieces, but about two hundred suc- 
 ceeded in getting into the gates of Malaga. 
 
 The santon took no part in the conflict, nor did ho endea- 
 vour to enter the city. His plans were of a different nature. 
 Drawing apart from the battle, he threw himself on his knees, 
 on a rising ground, and, lifting his hands to Heaven, appeared 
 to be absorbed in prayer. The Christians, as ihey were 
 searching for fugitives in the clefts of the rocks, found him at 
 his devotions. He stirred not at their approach, but remained 
 fixed as a statue, without changing colour or moving a muscle. 
 Filled with surprize, not unmixed with awe, they took him to 
 the Marquis of Cadiz. He was wrapped in a coarse albomos, 
 or Moorish mantle; his beard was long and grizzled, and 
 
 I 
 
 1;: 
 ] 
 
 ■ HI 
 
2ia 
 
 THE COKQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 there was something wild and melancholy in his look, that 
 inspired curiosity. 
 
 On being examined, he gave himself out as a saint, to whom 
 Allah had reveoled the events, that were to take place in that 
 siege. The marquis demanded when and how Malaga was to 
 be taken. He replied, that he knew full well ; but he was 
 forbidden to reveal these important secrets, except to the 
 king and queen, llie good marquis was not more given to 
 superstitious fancies than other conunanders of his time ; yet 
 there seemed something singular and mysterious about tnit 
 man : he might have some important intelUgenee to commu- 
 nicate ; so he was persuaded to send him to the king and 
 queen. He was conducted to the royal tent, surrounded by a 
 curious multitude, exclaiming **£1 Moro Santo!" for the 
 news had spread through the camp, that they had taken a 
 Moorish prophet. 
 
 The king, having dined, was taking his siesta, or afternoon's 
 sleep, in his tent ; and the queen, though curious to see this 
 singular being, yet, from a natural delicacy and reserve, de- 
 layed until Uie king should be present. He was taken, 
 therefore, to an adjoining tent, in which were Doiia Beatrix 
 de Bovadilla, Marchioness of Moya, and Don Alvaro of Por- 
 tugal, son of the Duke of Braganza, with two or three attend- 
 ants. The Moor, ignorant of the Spanish U)ngue, had not 
 understood the conversation of tlie guards, and supposed, 
 from the magnificence of the fomiture and the silken hang- 
 ings, that this was the royal tent. From the respect paid by 
 the attendants to Don Aharo and the marchioness, he con- 
 eluded, that they were the king and queen. 
 
 He now asked for a draught of water. A jar was brought 
 to him, nnd the guard released his arm, to enable him to 
 drink. The marchioness perceived a sudden change in his 
 countenance, and something sinister in the expression of his 
 eye, and shifted her position to a more remote part of the 
 tent Pretending to raise the water to his lips, the Moor 
 vnfolded his albomos so as to grasp a cimeter, which he woro 
 concenled beneath ; then, dasj^g down the jar, be drew bis 
 weapon, and gave Don Alvaro a blow on the head, that struck 
 him to the earth and nearly deprived him of life. Taming 
 npon the marchioness, he then made n violent dlow at bar, 
 Mt, in his eagerness and agitation, his cimeter cauf^C in tiM 
 drapery of the tsat ; the force of the blow was broken, and 
 

 ▲BTt OX ▲. MOO&ISH ASIBOLOGXB. 
 
 ai» 
 
 the weapon sbruck honnless upon some golden omomeuts of 
 her head-dress.* 
 
 Rtty Lopez de Toledo, treasurer to the queen, and Juan de 
 Behklcazar, a sturdy £riar, who were present, grappled and 
 struggled with the desperado; and immediately the guards 
 who had conducted him from the Marquis of Cadiz fell up<ni 
 him, and cut him to pieces.f 
 
 The king and queen, brought out of their tents by the 
 noise, were filled with horror, when they learned the immi<> 
 nent peril from which they had escaped. The mangled body 
 of the Moor was taken by the people of the camp, and throwa 
 into the city from a catapult. The Gomeres gathered up the 
 body, with deep reverence, as the remains of a saint ; they 
 washed and pe^umed it, and buried it with great honour and 
 loud lamentations. In revenge of his death, they slew one oC 
 their principal Christian captives ; and, having tied his body 
 upon an ass, they drove the animal forth into the camp. 
 
 From this time there was appointed an additional guard 
 around the tents of the king and queen, composed of twelve, 
 hundred cavaliers of rank of the kingdoms of Castile and 
 Am^n. No person was admitted to the royal presence 
 armed. No Moor was allowed to enter the camp without a 
 previous knowledge of his character and business ; and on no> 
 account was any Moor to be introduced into the presence of 
 the sovereigns. 
 
 An act of treadiery of such a ferocious nature gave rise to 
 a train of gloomy apprehensions. There were many cabine 
 and sheds about the camp, constructed of branches of trees* 
 which had become dry and combustible; and fears were en- 
 tntained, tiiat they misht be set on fire by the Mudixares, <ae 
 Moorish vassals, who visited the army. Some even dreaded, 
 that attempts might be made to poison the weUs and foun- 
 tains. To quiet these dismal alarms, all Mudixares were 
 ordered to leave the camp ; and all loose loiterers, who could 
 not give a good acjount of themaelvM, were taken into 
 evstody. 
 
 i i 
 
 CHAPTER LIX. 
 
 Amoito those followers of the santon that had eflfected thekr 
 , entrance into the city was a dark African, of the tribe of 
 
 * Piotro Martyr, episl.<a. 
 
 tCondelosPaUcioi. 
 
220 
 
 tHE CONQUEST OF GBANADA. 
 
 Gomcres, who was likewise a hermit or dervise, and passed 
 among the Moors for a holy uud inspired man. No sooner 
 were the mangled remains of his predecessor buried with the 
 honours of martyrdom, than this dervise elevated himself in 
 liis place, and professed to be gifted with the spirit of pro- 
 phecy. He displayed a white banner, which he assured the 
 Moors was sacred ; that he had retoincd it for twenty years, 
 for some signal purpose ; and that Allah had revealed to him, 
 that under that baimer, the inhabitants of Malaga should sally 
 forth upon the camp of the unbelievers, put it to utter rout, 
 and bantjuet upon the provisions in which it abounded.* 
 The hungry and credulous Moors were elated at this predic- 
 tion, and cried out to be led foith at once to the attack ; but 
 the dervise told them the time was not yet arrived, for every 
 event had its allotted day in the decrees of fate ; they must 
 wait patiently, therefore, until the appointed time should be 
 revealed to him by Heaven. Hamet el Zegri listened to the 
 dervise with profoimd reverence, and liis example had great 
 effect in increasing the awe and deference of his followers. 
 He took the holy man up into his stronghold of Gibralfaro, 
 consulted him on all occasions, and hung out his white banner 
 on the loftiest tower, as a signal of encouragement to the 
 people of the city. 
 
 In the meantime, the prime chivalry of Spain was gradually 
 assembling before the walls of Malaga. The army which haa 
 commenced the siege had been worn out by extreme hard- 
 ships, having had to construct immense works, to dig trenches 
 and mines, to mount giuird by seu and land, to patrole the 
 mountains, and to sustain incessant conflicts. The sovereigns 
 were obliged therefore to call upon various distant cities for 
 reinforcements of horse and foot. Many nobles, also, assem- 
 bled their vassals, and repaired, of their own accord, to the 
 royal camp. 
 
 Every little while, some stately galley or gallant caravel 
 would stand into the hai'bour, displaying the well-known 
 banner of some Spanish cavalier, and thundering from its 
 artillery a salutation to the sovereigns, and a defiance to the 
 Moors. On the land side also reinforcements would be seen, 
 winding down the mountains to the sound of drum and 
 trumpet, and marching into the camp with glistening arms, 
 M yet unsullied by the toils of war. 
 
 • Cura de los Pskoios. 
 
 One 
 vexed 1 
 port, 
 arrived: 
 with pr( 
 trumpet 
 which CI 
 
 This 
 Medina 
 vast posi 
 to the 1 
 sovjpreigi 
 doblas oi 
 When 
 advised t 
 to the in] 
 of a proti 
 a general 
 city to su 
 in case c 
 horrors o: 
 Hamet 
 main fort 
 capable o 
 sand evih 
 the incler 
 as well as 
 dictions o 
 The W( 
 aflSrm thi 
 necroman 
 countless 
 and that 
 air, to ei| 
 Christian 
 employee 
 command) 
 spells nnc 
 in.sti omen 
 they were 
 To the 
 and losse 
 
ABTS OF A VOOEISH ASTROLOGER. 
 
 221 
 
 One morning the whole sea was whitened by the sails, and 
 Texed by the oars of ships and galleys bearing towards the 
 port. One hundred vessels, of various kinds and sizes, 
 arrived; some armed for warlike service, others deep freighted 
 with provisions. At the same time, the clangor of dnmi and 
 trumpet bespoke the arrival of a powerful force by land, 
 which came pouring in lengthening columns into the camp. 
 
 This mighty reinforcement was furnished by the Duke of 
 Medina Sidonia, who reigned like a petty monarch over his 
 vast possessions. He came with this princely force a volunteer 
 to the royal standard, not having been summoned by the 
 sovereigns, and he brought morcver a loan of twenty thousand 
 doblas of gold. 
 
 When the camp was thus powerfully reinforced, Isabella 
 advised that new offers of an indulgent kind should be made 
 to the inhabitants; for she was anxious to prevent the miseries 
 of a protracted siege, or the effusion of blood that must attend 
 a general attack. A fresh summons was therefore sent for the 
 city to surrender, with a pi'omise of life, liberty, and property, 
 in case of immediate compliance, but denouncing all the 
 horrors of war if the defence were obstinately continued. 
 
 Hamet el Zegri again rejected the offer with scorn. His 
 main fortifications as yet were but little impaired, and were 
 capable of holding out much longer; he trusted to the thou* 
 sand evils and accidents that beset a besieging army, and to 
 the inclemencies of the approaching season ; and it is said he, 
 as well as his followers, had an infatuated belief in the pre- 
 dictions of the dervisc. 
 
 The worthy Fray Antonio Agapida does not scruple to 
 affirm that the pretended prophet of the city was an arch 
 necromancer, or Moorish magician ; " of which there be 
 countless many," says he, " in the filthy sect of Mahomet;'* 
 and that he was leagued with the prince of the powers of the 
 air, to endeavour to work the confusion and defeat of the 
 Christian army. The worthy father asserts also, that Ilamet 
 employed him in a high tower of the Gibralfaro, which 
 commanded a wide view over sea and land, where he wrought 
 spells and incantations, with astrolabes and other diabolical 
 iuMti oments, to defeat the Christian ships and forces, whenever 
 they were engaged with the Moors. 
 
 To the jjotcnt spells of this sorcerer he ascribes the pcrilii 
 and losses sustained by a party of cavaliers of the royal 
 
 
 n 
 
 m 4 
 
 it f\\\ 
 
 
 m 
 
 '3 *i 
 1 •' 
 
 
 it'' 
 
'"-•*'■"*.<( tf — "l ^^ t.. 
 
 ,_^-\. w-^ * *^«^- v^iyeg^-flQMjqi^^ 
 
 222 
 
 TOE CONQUEST OF OSAKADA. 
 
 (i 
 
 / 
 
 household, in a desperate combat to gain two towers of the 
 suburb, near the gate of the city called La Puerta de Granada. 
 The Christians, led on by Ruy liopez de Toledo, the valiant 
 treararer of the queen, took, and lost, and retook the towers, 
 which were finally set on fire by the Moors, and abandoned 
 to the flames by both parties. To the same malignant influ- 
 ence he attributes the damage done to the Christian fleet, 
 which was so vigorously assailed by the albatozas, or floating 
 batteries, of the Moors, that one ship of the Duke of Medina 
 Sidonia was sunk, and the rest were obliged to retire. 
 
 " Hamet el Zegri," says Fray Antonio Agapida, " stood on 
 the top of the high tower of Gibral&ro, and beheld this 
 injur}' wrought upon the Christian force ; and his proud heart 
 was pufled up. And the Moorish necromaneer stood beside 
 him. And he pointed out to him the Christian host below, 
 encamped on every eminence around the city, and covering 
 its fertile valley, and the many ships floating upon the tranquil 
 sea: and he bade him be strong of heart, for that, in a few 
 days, all this mighty fleet would be scattered by the winds of 
 heaven; and that he should sally forth, under guidance of the 
 sacred banner, and attack this host, and utterly defeat it, and 
 make spoil of those sumptuous tents; and Malaga shoidd be 
 triumphantly revenged upon her assailants. So the heart of 
 Hamet was Hardened like that of Pharaoh, and he persisted in 
 setting at defiance the Catholic sovereigns and their army of 
 saintly warriors." 
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 Sertno the infatuated obstinacy of the besieged, the 
 Christians now approached their works to the Mralls, gaining 
 one position after another, preparatory to a general assault 
 15"ear the barrier of the city was a bridge with foxu* arches, 
 defended at each end by a strong and lofty tower, by which a 
 part of the army would have to pass in making a gencnd 
 «ttack. ITic commander-in-chief of the artillery, Francisco 
 Ramirez de Madrid, was ordered to take possession of this 
 bridge. The approach to it was perilous in the extreme, 
 from the exposed situation of the assailants, and the numbers 
 of Moors that garrisoned the towers. Francisco Ramirex, 
 therefore, secretly excavated a mine leading beneath the first 
 tower, and placed a piece of ordnance, with its mouth upwards. 
 
 immed 
 
 produo 
 
 Whc 
 
 forces J 
 
 step, ar 
 
 the brit 
 
 works, i 
 
 bravely 
 
 the piec 
 
 The ean 
 
 several < 
 
 overwhe 
 
 beneath 
 
 and 8m( 
 
 stratagei 
 
 tookposs 
 
 nieneed « 
 
 of the bri 
 
 fire of d 
 
 rival tow 
 
 dared to 
 
 Francij 
 
 of appr_„ 
 
 Moors at | 
 
 The coml 
 
 Moors, 
 
 By slow 
 
 bridge, d.^ 
 
 this impoj 
 
 For thil 
 
 after thef 
 
 knighthc 
 
 had so glJ 
 
 Agapida,] 
 
 upon this! 
 
 l>y a piej 
 
 instance 
 
 Whili 
 
DESTRUCTIOK OP A TOWER BT RA.MIRKZ. 
 
 223 
 
 xtremc, 
 umbers 
 lamireSf 
 the first 
 p^'ords. 
 
 immediately under the foundation, with a train of powder to 
 produce an explosion at the necessary moment. 
 
 When this was arranged, he advanced slowly with his 
 forces in the fiEice of the towers, erecting bulwarks at eyery 
 step, and gradually gainii^ ground, until he arrived near to 
 the bridge. He then planted several pieces of artillery in his 
 works, and began to batter the tower. Ihe Moors replied 
 bravely from their battlements ; but in the heat of the combat 
 the piece of ordnance under the foundation was dischai^ed. 
 Ihe earth was rent open, a part of the tower overthrown, and 
 several of the Moors torn to pieces: the rest took to flight, 
 overwhelmed with terror at this thundering explosion burstii^ 
 beneath their feet, and at beholding the earth vomiting flames 
 and smoke; for never before had they witnessed such a 
 stratagem in warfare. The Chrieitians rushed forward and 
 took possession of the abandoned post, and immediately com- 
 menced an attack upon the other tower, at the opposite end 
 of the bridge, to wluch the Moors had retired. An incessant 
 fire of crossbows and arquebuses was kept up between the 
 rival towers, volleys of stones were discharged, and no one 
 dared to venture upon the intermediate bridge. 
 
 Francisco de Ramirez at lepgth i^^newed his former mode 
 of approach, making bulwarks as he advanced, while the 
 Moors at the other end swept the bridge with their artillery. 
 The combat was long and bloody, ferocious on the part of the 
 Moors, patient and persevering on the part of the Christians. 
 By slow degrees they accomplished their progress across the 
 bridge, drove the enemy before them, and remained masters of 
 this important pass. 
 
 For this valiant and skilful achievement, King Ferdinand, 
 after the surrender of the city, confeiTod the dignity of 
 knighthood upon Francisco Ramirez, in the tower which he 
 had so gloriously gained.* The woithy padre. Fray Antonio 
 Agapida, indulges in more than a page of extravagant eulogy 
 upon this invention of blowing up the foundation of the tower 
 by a piece of ordnance, which he affirms to be the first 
 instance on record of gunpowder being used in a mine. 
 
 CHAPTER LXI. 
 
 While the dcrvise was deluding the garrison of Malagn 
 * Pulgsr, part ill. cap. 91. 
 
 : n 
 
 Mil 
 

 «*ir- -='S»«»»* 
 
 •■•»~*V 
 
 «S5»'irta_-.T»-, 
 
 924 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBANADA< 
 
 I 
 
 ' ! 
 1 I 
 
 with vain hopes, the famine increased to a terrible degree. 
 The Gomercs ranged about the city as though it had been a 
 conquered place ; taking by force wbatever they found eatable 
 in the houses of the peaceful citizens, and breaking open 
 vaults and cellars, and demolishing walls, wherever they 
 thought provisions might be concealed. 
 
 The wretched inhabitants had no longer bread to eat; the 
 horseflesh also now failed them ; and they were fain to devour 
 skins and hides toasted at the fire, and to assuage the hunger 
 of their children with vine leaves cut up and fried in oil. 
 Many perished of famine, or of the unwholesome food with 
 which they endeavoured to relieve it; and many took refuge 
 in the Christian camp, prefen*ing captivity to the horrors 
 which surrounded them. 
 
 At length the sufferings of the inhabitants became so great 
 as to conquer even their fears of Hamet and his Gomeres. 
 They assembled before the house of Ali Dordux, the wealthy 
 merchant, whose stately mansion was at the foot of the hill of the 
 alcazaba ; and they urged him to stand forth as their leader, and 
 to intercede with Hamet el Zegri for a* surrender. Ali Dordux 
 was a man of com-age as well as policy ; he perceived also that 
 hunger was giving boldness to the citizens, while he trusted 
 it was subduing the fierceness of the soldiery. He armed 
 himself, therefore, cnp-a-pie, and undertook this dangerous 
 parley with the alcayde. He associated with him an alfaqui, 
 named Abrahen Alharis, and nn important inhabitant, named 
 Amar ben Amar; and they ascended to the fortress of Gibral- 
 faro, followed by several of the trembling merchants. 
 
 They found Hamet el Zegri, not, as before, surrounded by 
 ferocious guards and all the implements of war; but in a 
 chamber of one of the lofty towers, at a table of stone, covered 
 with scrolls, and tniced with strange characters and mystic 
 diagrams; while instruments of singular and unknown form 
 lay about the room. Beside Hamet el Zegri stood tlie pro- 
 phetic dervise, who oppeared to have been explaining to nim 
 the mysterious inscriptions of the scrolls. His presence filled 
 the citizens with awe ; for even Ali Dordux considered him a 
 man inspired. 
 
 The alfaqui, Abrahen Alharis, whose sacred chnrncter gave 
 him boldness to speak, now lifted up his voice, and addressed 
 Hamet el Zegri. " We implore you," said he solemnly, " in 
 the name of the most powerful God, no longer to persist in 
 
 a V 
 
 delii 
 
 Thii 
 
 not { 
 
 and 
 
 them 
 
 eyes, 
 
 abum 
 
 Are ( 
 
 Rond 
 
 Loxai 
 
 warri( 
 
 From 
 
 gone I 
 
 chivali 
 
 degrad 
 
 up wii 
 
 against 
 
 existen 
 
 who ar 
 
 these 
 
EXPOSTULATION WITH HAMKT EL ZEORI. 
 
 229 
 
 ;rcc. 
 en a 
 able 
 open 
 they 
 
 ; the 
 jvour 
 iingef 
 a oil. 
 with 
 refuge 
 orrora 
 
 ) great 
 meres, 
 realthy 
 1 of the 
 er, and 
 Dordux 
 [go that 
 trusted 
 
 armed 
 
 gerous 
 alfaqui, 
 
 named 
 
 Gibral- 
 
 idedby 
 Itut in a 
 [ covered 
 mystic 
 jvn form 
 [tlic pro- 
 le to him 
 ■acc iiUed 
 led him a 
 
 pter gave 
 tddresscd 
 
 fnly, "in 
 jcrsist in 
 
 a vain resistance, which must end in our destruction; but 
 deliver up the city, while clemency is yet to be obtained. 
 Think how many of our warriors have falleu by the sword; do 
 not suffer those who survive to perish by famine. Our wives 
 and children cry to us for bread, and we have none to give 
 them. We see them expire in lingering agony before our 
 eyes, while the enemy mocks our misery, by displaying the 
 abundance of his camp. Of what avail is our defence? 
 Are our walls, peradventure, more strong than the walls of 
 Ronda? Are our warriors more brave than the defenders of 
 Loxa? The walls of Ronda were thrown down, and the 
 warriors of Loxa had to surrender. Do we hope for succour ? 
 From whence are we to receive it? The time for hope has 
 gone by. Granada has lost its power: it no longer possesses 
 chivalry, commanders, or a king. Boabdil sits a vassal in the 
 degraded walls of the Alhambm : £1 Zagal is a fugitive, shut 
 up within the walls of Guadix. The kingdom is divided 
 against itself: its strength is gone, its pride fallen, its very 
 existence at an end. In the name of Allah, we conjure thee, 
 who art our captain, be not our direst enemy ; but surrender 
 these ruins of our once happy Malaga, and deliver lis from 
 these overwhelming horrors." 
 
 Such was the supplication forced firom the inhabitants by 
 the extremity of their sufferings. Hamet el Zegri listened to 
 the alfaqui without anger, for he respected the sanctity of his 
 office. His heart, too, was at that moment lifted up with a 
 vain confidence. "Yet a few days of patience," said he, 
 *' and all these evils will suddenly have an end. I have been 
 conferring with this holy man, and find, that the time of our 
 deliverance is at hand. The decrees of fate are inevitable : it 
 Ss written in the book of destiny, that we shall sally forth, and 
 destroy the camp of the unbelievers, and banquet upon those 
 mountains of grain, which are piled up in the midst of it. So 
 Allah hath promised, by the mouth of this his prophet. 
 Allah achbar ! God is great ! Let no man oppose the decrees 
 of Heaven." 
 
 The citizens heard with proud reverence ; for no true Moslem 
 pretends to struggle against whatever is written in the book 
 of fate. Ali Dordux, who had come prepared to champion 
 the city, and to brave the ire of Hamet, humbled himself 
 before this holy man ; and gave faith to his prophecies as the 
 revelations of Allah. So the deputies returned to the citizens, 
 
 U 
 
 ii) 
 
 l# 
 
226 
 
 THE COXQUEST OF GBAXADA. 
 
 and exhorted them to be of good cheer. " A fc w days longer," 
 said they, *' and our suiferings are to terminate. When the 
 white banner is removed from the tower, then look out for 
 deliverance ; for the hour of soUying forth will have arrived." 
 The people retired to their houses with sorrowful hearts. 
 They tried in vain to quiet the cries of their famishing 
 children ; and day by day, and hour by hoiir, their anxious 
 eyes were turned to the nacred banner, which still continued 
 to wave on the tower of Gibralfaro. 
 
 II I I 
 
 n 
 
 % 
 
 CHAPTER LXII. 
 
 "ITie Moorish necromancer," observes the worthy Fray 
 Antonio Agapida, '' remained shut up in the tower of the 
 Gibralfaro, devising devilish means to work mischief and dis- 
 comfiture upon the Christians. He was daily consulted by 
 Hamet el Zegri, who had great faith in those black and magic 
 arts, which he had brought with him from the bosom of 
 heathen Africa." 
 
 From the account given of this dervise and his incantations 
 by the worthy father, it would appear, that he was an astro< 
 loger, and was studying the stars, and endeavouring to calcu- 
 late the day and hour, when a successM attack might be 
 made upon the Christian camp. 
 
 Famine had now increased to such a degree as to distress 
 even the garrison of Gibralfaro; although the Gomeres had 
 seized upon all the provisions they could find in the city« 
 Their passions were sharpened by himger ; and they became 
 restless and turbulent, and impatient for action. 
 
 llamet el Zegri was one day in council with his captains, 
 perplexed by the pressure of events, when the dervise entered 
 among them. " The hour of victory," exclaimed he, " is at 
 hand! Allah has commanded, that to-morrow morning ye 
 shall sally forth to the fight. I will bear before you the 
 sacred banner, and deliver your enemies into your hands. 
 Kemember, however, that ye are but instruments in the hands 
 of Allah, to take vengeance on the enemies of the faith. Go 
 into battle, therefore, with pure hearts, forgiving each other 
 all past oflTences ; for those, who are charitable towards each 
 other, will be victorious over the foe." 
 
 The words of the dervise were received with rapture. AH 
 Gibralfaro and the alcazaba resounded immediately with the 
 
BALLY OF IIAMET EL ZEGRI. 
 
 227 
 
 is at 
 
 iilin of arms ; and Hamct sent throughout the towers and for- 
 tificatious of tho city, aiul selected the choicest troops and 
 most distinguished cuptains for this eventful combat. 
 
 In the morning early, the nunour went throughout the city, 
 that the sacred banner had disappeared from the tower of 
 Gibralfaro, and all Malaga was roused to witness the sally 
 that was to destroy the unbelievers. Ilamet descended from 
 his strong-hold, accompanied by his principal captain, Abra- 
 hen Z^nete, and followed by his Goraeres. The dervise led 
 the way, displaying tlie white banner, the sacred pkdge of 
 victory. The multitude shouted, " Allah achbar !" and pi'os- 
 trated themselves before the banner as it passed. Even the 
 dreaded Hamet was hailed with praises ; for, in their hope of 
 speedy relief, through the prowess of his arm, the populace 
 forgot everything but his bravery. Every bosom in Malaga 
 waa {^tated by hope and fear ; the old men, the women, and 
 children, and all who went not forth to battle, mounted on 
 tower, and battlement, and roof, to watch a combat, that was 
 to decide their fate. 
 
 Before sallying forth from the city, the dervise addressed 
 the troops, reminding them of the holy nature of this enter- 
 prise, and warning them not to forget the protection of the 
 sacred banner by any unworthy act. They were to press 
 forward, fighting valiantly, and granting no quarter4 The 
 gate was then thrown open, and the dervise issued forth, 
 followed by the army. They directed their assaiUt upon the 
 encampments of the master of Santiago and the master of 
 Calatrava, and came upon them so suddenly, that they killed 
 and wounded several of the guards. Abrahen Zenete made 
 his way into one of the tents, where he beheld several Chris- 
 tian striplings, just starting from their slumber. The heart of 
 the Moor was suddenly touched with pity for their youth, or, 
 perhaps, he scorned the weakness of the foe : he smote them 
 with the flat, instead of the edge, of his sword. " Away, 
 imps," cried he, '* away to your mothers !" ITie fanatic der- 
 vise reproached him with his clemency. "I did not kill 
 tiiem," replied Zenete, ** because I saw no beards !"* 
 
 The alarm was given in the camp, and the Christians 
 
 rushed firom all quarters todefendthegatesof the bulwarks. Don 
 
 Pedro Puertocarrero, senior of Moguer, and his brother, Don 
 
 Alonzo Pacheco, planted themselves, with their followers, in 
 
 .* Cum d« los FiiukMf cap. 64. 
 
 Q 2 
 
 si:'. ■■..i''*i 
 
£28 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF ORANADA. 
 
 II 
 
 n 
 
 I 
 
 m 
 
 the gateway of the encampment of the master of Santiago, and 
 bore the whole brunt of the battle until they were reinforced. 
 The gate of the encampment of the master of Calatrava was, 
 in like manner, defended by Lorenzo Saurez de Mendoza. 
 Hamet el Zegri was furious at being thus checked, where he 
 had expected a miraculous victory. He led his troops re- 
 peatedly to the attack, hoping to force the gates before succour 
 should arrive. They fought with vehement ardour, but were 
 as often repulsed ; and every time they returned to the assault, 
 they found their enemies doubled in number. The Christians 
 •opened a cross tire of all kinds of missiles from their bulwarks ; 
 the Moors could effect but little damage upon a foe thus pro- 
 moted behind their works, while they themselves were exposed 
 from head to foot. The Christians singled out the most con- 
 fipicuous cavaUers, the greater part of whom were either slain 
 or wounded. Still the Moors, mfatuated by the predictions of 
 the prophet, fought desperately ond devotedly ; and they were 
 furious to revenge the slaughter of their leaders. They rushed 
 upon certain death, endeavouring madly to scale the bulwarks, 
 or force the gates ; and fell amidst showers of darts and lances, 
 filling the ditches with their mangled bodies. 
 
 Hamet el Zegri raged along the front of the bulwarks, 
 tseeking on opening for attack. He gnashed his teeth with 
 friry, as he saw so many of his chosen warriors slain around 
 •him. He seemed to have a charmed life ; for, though con- 
 «tantly in the hottest of the fight, amidst showers of missiles, 
 he still escaped uninjured. Blindly confiding in the prophecy 
 -of victory, he continued to urge on his devoted troops. The 
 dervise, too, ran like a moniac through the ranks, waving his 
 white banner, and inciting the Moors, by bowlings rather 
 than by shouts. In the midst of his frenzy, a stone from a 
 oatapult struck him on the head, and dashed out his be- 
 wildered brains.* 
 
 When the Moors beheld their prophet slain, and his banner 
 in the dust, they were seized with despair, and fled in confu- 
 sion to the city. Hamet el Zegri made some effort to rally 
 them, but was himself confounded by the fall of the dervis^. 
 He covered the flight of his broken forces, turning repeatedly 
 upon their pursuers, and slowly making his retreat inio 
 the city. 
 
 The inhabitants of Malaga witnessed from their walls, with 
 
 > ^ aai<faa]r» lil»> >^i^ M^^-SS* 
 
8ALLT OF HAMET EL ZEOBI. 
 
 229 
 
 trembling anxiety, the whole of this disastrous conflict. At 
 the first onset, on seeing the guards of the camp put to flight, 
 they exclaimed, '' AUah has given us the victory !'' and they 
 sent up shouts of triumph. Their exultation, however, was 
 turned into doubt, when they beheld their troops repulsed in 
 repeated attacks. They could perceive, from time to time, 
 some distinguished warrior laid low, and others brought back 
 bleeding to the city. When, at length, the sacred banner 
 fell, and the routed troops came flying to the gates, pursued 
 and cut down by the foe, horror and despair seized upon the 
 populace. 
 
 As Hamet el Zegri entered the gates, he was greeted with 
 loud lamentations. Mothers, whose sons had been slain, 
 shrieked curses after him as he passed. Some, in the anguish 
 of their hearts, threw down their famishing babes before him, 
 exclamiug, " Trample on them with thy horse's feet, for we 
 have no food to give them, and we cannot endure their cries !" 
 All heaped execrations on his head, as the cause of the woes 
 of Malaga. 
 
 The warlike part of the citizens, also, and many warriors, 
 who, with their wives and children, had taken refuge in 
 Malaga from the mountain fortresses, now joined in tha 
 popuj^ clamour ; for their hearts were overcome by the 
 sufferings of their families. 
 
 Hamet el Zegri found it impossible to withstand this 
 torrent of lamentations, curses, and reproaches. His military- 
 ascendancy was at an end ; for most of his officers, and the 
 prime warriors of his African band, had Mien in this dis- 
 astrous sally. Turning his back, therefore, upon the city, 
 and abandoning it to its own councils, he retired, with the 
 reomant of his Gomeres, to his strong-hold in the GibraljGuro. 
 
 CHAPTER LXni. 
 
 The people of Malaga, being no longer overawed by Hamet 
 #1 Z^ri and his Gomeres, turned to Ali Dordux, the magna- 
 nimous merchant, and put the fate of the city into his hands. 
 lie had already gained the alcaydes of the castle of the 
 Oenoese and of the citadel into his party ; and, in the late 
 confusion, had gained the sway over these important for^ 
 tresses. He now associated himself with the alfaqui, Abrahea 
 Alhariz, and four of the principal inhabitants ; and, forming 
 
230 
 
 THE COXQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 t' 1 
 
 n provisional junta, thoy sent heralds to the Cliristinn sove- 
 reigns, offering to surrender the city on certain terms, pro- 
 tecting the persons and projierty of the inhabitants, per- 
 mitting them to reside ns mudaxares, or tributary vassals, 
 either in Malaga or elsewhere. 
 
 When these heralds orrived at the camp, and made known 
 their mission, the anger of Ferdinand was kindled. " Return 
 to your fellow-citizens," said he, "and tell them, that tho 
 day of grace is gone by. They have persisted in a fruitless 
 defence, until they are driven by necessity to capitulate: 
 they must surrender unconditionally, and abide the fate of 
 the vanquished. Those who merit death shall suffer death ; 
 those who merit captivity shall be made captives." 
 
 This stern reply spread consternation among the people of 
 Malaga ; but Ali Dordux comforted them, and undertook to 
 go in person, and pray for favourable terms. When the 
 people beheld this great merchant, who waa so eminent in 
 their city, departing with his associates on this mission, the^^ 
 plucked up heart, for they said, " Surely the Christian king 
 M'ill not turn a deaf ear to such a man as Ali Dordux !" 
 
 Ferdinand, however, would not even admit the ambassadors 
 to his presence. " Send them to the devil," said he, in a 
 great pa.s8ion, to the commander of Leon. " I will not see 
 them. Let them get back to their city. They shall all sur- 
 irender to my mercy as vanquished enemies."* 
 
 To give emphasis to this i*eply, he ordered a general dis- 
 charge from all the artillery and batteries, and there was a 
 great shout throughout the camp, and all the lombards and 
 catapults, and other engines, Umndered furiously upon tho 
 city, doing great damage. 
 
 Ali Dordux and his companions returned with downcast 
 countenances, and could scarce make the reply of the Chris- 
 tian sovereign be heard, for the roaring of the artillerv', tho 
 tumbling of the walls, and the cries of women and children. 
 The citizens were greatly astonished and dismayed, when 
 they found the little respect paid to their most eminent man ; 
 tut the warriors who were in the city exclaimed, *' What has 
 this merchant to do with questions between men of battle ? 
 Xct us not address the enemy as abject suppliants, who have 
 Yio power to injiu'e ; but as valiant men, who have weapons 
 in their hands. ' , 
 
 w * Cun de los Psiacios, cap. 84.. 
 
 most 
 
ttOW tBE CitY OF MALAGA CAPITULATED. 
 
 £dl 
 
 So they despatched another message to the ChriHtian 
 sovereigns, offering to yield up the city, and all their effects, 
 on condition of being secured in their personal liberty. 
 Should this Ih! denied, they declared, that they vroxiid hang 
 from the battlements fifteen hundred Christian captives, male 
 and female; that they would put all their old men, their 
 women and children, into the citadel, set fire to the city, and 
 sally forth sword in hand, to fight until the last gasp. '' In 
 this way," said they, '* the Spanish sovereigns shall gain a 
 bloody victory, and the fall of Malaga be renowned while the 
 world endures." 
 
 Various debates now took place in the Christian camp. 
 Many of the cavaliers were exasperated against Malaga for its 
 long resistance, which had caused the death of many of their 
 relations and favourite companions. It had long been a 
 strong-hold for Moorish depredators, and the mart where 
 most of the warriors captured in the Axarquia had been 
 ex))osed in triumph, and sold to slaver}'. They represented, 
 moreover, that there were many Moorish cities yet to be 
 besieged ; and that an example ought to be made of Malaga, 
 to prevent all obstinate resistance hereafter. They advised, 
 therefore, that all the inhabitants should be put to tho 
 sword!* 
 
 The humane heart of Isabella revolted at such sanguinary 
 councils. She insisted, that their triumph should aot be dis<< 
 graced by cruelty. Ferdinand, however, was inflexible in 
 refusing to grant any preliminary terms ; insisting on an un- 
 conditional surrender. The people of Malaga now abandoned 
 themselves to paroxysms of despair. On the one side, they 
 saw famine and death; on the other, slavery and chains* 
 The mere men of the sword, who had no families to protect, 
 were loud for signalizing their fall by some illustrious action. 
 " Let us sacrifice our Christian captives, and then destroy 
 ourselves !" cried some. "■ Let us put all the women and 
 children to denth, set tire to the city, fall on the Christian 
 camp, and die sword in hand !" cried others. 
 
 Ali Dordux gradually made his voice be heard amidst the 
 ffcncral clamour. He addressed himself to the principal inha« 
 bitants, and those who had children. '' Let those who livo 
 by the sword die by the sword," cried he, " but let us not 
 follow their desperate councils. Who knows what bjNirks of 
 ' • Pulgar. 
 
 i 
 
 t .■ 
 
 » 'yi 
 
 
 'I 
 
fr! 
 
 M 
 
 THE COKQT7E8T OF OBAKADA. 
 
 ^ity niay be awakened in the bosoms of the Christiiin sove- 
 reigns, when they behold our unoffending wives and daugh- 
 ters, and our helpless little ones ! The Christian queen, they 
 •ay, is ftill of mercy." 
 
 At these words the hearts of the unhappy people of Malaga 
 yearned over their families ; and they empowered Ali Dordux 
 to deliver up the city to the mercy of the Castilian sovereigns. 
 
 The merchant now went to and fro, and had several com- 
 munications with Ferdinand and Isabella; and interested 
 several principal cavaliers in his cause. And he sent rich 
 presents to the king and queen, of oriental merchandises, 
 silks, and stu£f8 of gold, and jewels, and precious stones, and 
 spices, and perfumes, and many other rare and sumptuous 
 things, which he had accumulated in his great tradings with 
 the East ; and he gradually found favour m the eyes of the 
 sovereigns.* Finaing that there was nothing to be obtained 
 for the city, he now, like a prudent man and able merchant, 
 began to negociate for himself and his immediate friends. 
 
 He represented, that, from the first, they had been desirous 
 of yielding up the city ; but had been prevented by warlike 
 and high-handed men, who had threatened their lives. He 
 entreated, therefore, that mercy might be extended to them, 
 and that they might not be confounded with the guilty. 
 
 The sovereigns had accepted the presents of Ali Dordux : 
 how could they turn a deaf ear to his petition ? So they 
 granted a pardon to him, and to forty fkmilies which he 
 named ; and it was agreed, that they should be protected in 
 their lives and property, and permitted to reside in Malaga 
 as Mudaxares or Moslem vassals ; and to follow their cus- 
 tomary pursuits.f All this being arranged, Ali Dordt)x 
 delivered up twenty of the principal inhabitants, to remain as 
 hostages until the whole city should be placed in the posses- 
 sion oif the Christians. 
 
 Don Guticre de Cardenas, senior commander of Leon, now 
 entered the city, armed cap-&-pid, on horseback, and took 
 possession, in the name of the Castilian sovereigns. He was 
 rollowed by bis retainers, and bv the captains and cavaliers of 
 the army ; and in a little while the stuidards of the cross, 
 itnd of Uie blessed Santia^, and of the Catholic sorereigns, 
 were elevated on the principal tower of the alcaaba. Wnen 
 these standards were beheld from the camp, the queen, and^ 
 * MS. Chron. of Yalen. t Con de lot Tslseios. 
 
'TATE OF nAlTET £L ZEORI. 
 
 23^ 
 
 
 the princess, and the ladies of the court, and all the royal 
 retinae, knelt down, and gave thanks and praises to the Holy 
 Virgin, and to Santiago, for this great triumph of the faith ; 
 and the bishops, and other clei^ who were present, and the 
 ehoristen of the royal chapel, chanted Te Deum laudamuSf 
 and Gloria in excehit. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIV. 
 
 No iM>oner was the city delivered up, than the wretched 
 inhabitants implored permission to purchase bread for them- 
 selves and their children, from the heaps of gmin, which they 
 had so often gazed at wistfully from their walls. Their prayer 
 was granted ; and they issued forth, with the famished eager- 
 re '^ of starving men. It was piteous to behold the struggles 
 t«f ' ' unhappy people, as they contended who first should 
 \j u i\T necessities relieved. 
 
 lous," says the pious Fray Antonio Agapida, '* thus are 
 the predictions of fidse prophets sometimes permitted to be 
 verified ; but always to the confusion of those who trust in 
 them ; for the words of the Moorish necromancer came to 
 pass, that they should eat of those heaps of bread ; but they 
 ate of them in humiliation and defeat, and with sorrow and 
 bitterness of heart." 
 
 Dark and fierce were the feelings of Hamet el Zegri, as he 
 looked down tcova. the castle of Gibralfkro, and beheld the 
 Christian legions pouring into the city, and the standard of 
 the cross supplanting the crescent on the citadel. "The 
 people of Malaga," said he, *' have trusted to a man of trade, 
 and he has trafficked them away ; but let us not suffer our- 
 selves to be bound, hand and foot, and delivered up as part 
 of his bargain. We have yet strong walls around us, and 
 trusty weapons in our hands. Let us fight until buried 
 beneath the last tumbling tower of Qibralfuro ; or, rushing 
 down firom among its ruins, carry havoc among the unbe* 
 lie vers, as they throng the streets of Malaga ! " 
 
 The fierceness of the Gomeres, however, was broken. They 
 oould have died in the breach, had their castle been assailed ; 
 but the slow advances of famine subdued their strength with- 
 eut rousing their passions, and sapped the fbrcc both of soul 
 and body. They were almost unanimous fbr a surrender. 
 
 It was a hard struggle for the proud spirit of Hamet, to 
 
 '.?ll 
 
ftZi 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBAKADA. 
 
 lA 
 
 : 
 
 n: 
 
 bow itsdf to ask for terms. Still he trusted, that the valour 
 of his defence would gain him respect in the eyes of a chival- 
 rous foe. " All," said he, " has negociated like a merchant : 
 I will capitulate as a soldier." lie sent a herald, therefore, 
 to Ferdinand, offering to yield up his castle, but demanding 
 a separate treaty, llie Castilian sovereign sent a lac(mic and 
 stern reply : ''lie shall receive no terms, but such as have 
 been granted to the community of Malaga." 
 
 For two days Hamet el Zegri remained brooding in hit 
 (iastle, after the city was in possession of the Christians, At 
 length, the clamoiirs of his followers compelled him to sur- 
 render. When the broken remnant of this fierce African 
 {^rrison descended from their cragged fortress, they were so 
 worn by watchfulness, famine, and battle, yet carried such a 
 lurking fury in their eyes, that they looked more like fiends 
 than men. They were all condemned to slavery, excepting 
 Abrahen Zenete. The instance of clemency which he had 
 shown, in refraining to harm the Spanish striplings on the 
 last sally from Malaga, won him favourable terms. It was 
 cited as a magnanimous act by the Spanish cavaliers ; and all 
 ^idmitted, that, though a Moor in blood, he possessed the 
 Christian heart of a Castilian hidalgo.* 
 
 As to Hamet el Zegri, on being asked, what moved him to 
 such hardened obstinacy, he replied, *' When I imdcrtook my 
 command, I pledged myself to fight, in defence of my faith, 
 my city, and my sovereign, until slain or made prisoner ; 
 and, depend upon it, had I luid men to stand by me, I should 
 liavo died figliting, instead of thus tamely surrendering myself 
 without a weapon in my hand." 
 
 ! " Such," says the pious Fray Antonio Agapida, " were the 
 diabolical hatred, aAd stiff-necked opposition, of this infidel 
 to our holy cause. But he was justly served by our most 
 Catholic and high-minded sovereign, for his pertinacious 
 xlefence of the city ; for Ferdinand ordered, that he should 
 bo loaded with chains, and thrown into a dungeon."f ^ 
 
 ; CHAPTER LXV. 
 
 One of the first cares of the conquerors, on entering 
 Malaga, was to search for Christian captives. Nearly 
 sixteen himdred, men and women, were fomid, and amoiij^ 
 ( . , * Ooxa do los PaUoioi, cap. 84. f Fulgar, Cronica, 
 
BELEASE OF THE CHBISTIAK CAPTIVES. 
 
 2S5 
 
 them were persons of distinction. Some of them had been 
 ten, fifteen, and twenty years in captivity. Many had bcea 
 8er\'ant8 to the Moors, or labourers on public works, and some 
 had passed their time in chains and dungeons. Preparations 
 were made to celebrate their deliverance as a Christian 
 triumph. A tent was erected, not far from the city, and 
 furnished with an altar, and all the solemn decorations of a 
 chapel. Here the king and queen waited to receive tho 
 Christian captives. They were assembled in the city, and 
 marshalled forth in piteous procession. Many of them had 
 still the chains and shackles on their legs. They were wasted 
 with famine, their hair and beards ovei^own and matted, 
 and their faces pale and haggard from long confinement. 
 When they beheld themselves restored to liberty, and sur- 
 rounded by their countrymen, some stared wildly about, as if 
 in a dream, others gave way to frantic transports, but most of 
 them wept for joy. All present were moved to tears by so 
 touching a spectacle. When the procession arrived at what 
 is called the Gate of Granada, it was met by a great concourse 
 from the camp, with crosses and pennons, who turned and 
 followed the captives,' singing hymns of praise and thanks- 
 giving. When they came in presence of the king and queen, 
 they threw themselves on their knees, and woxild have kissed 
 their feet, as their saviours and deliverers ; but the sovereigns 
 prevented such humiliation, and graciously extended to them 
 theii* hands. They then prostrated themselves before the 
 altar, and all present joined them in giving thanks to God, 
 for their liberation from this cruel bondage. By orders of 
 the king and queen, their chains were then taken off, and 
 they were clad in decent raiment, and food was set before 
 them. After they had ate and drank, and were refresht'd and 
 invigorated, they were provided with money, and all things 
 necessary for their journey, and sent joyfully to their homes. 
 ■ While the old chroniclers dwell with becoming enthusiasm 
 on this pure and affecting triumph of humanity, they go, in 
 a strain of equal eulogy, to describe a spectacle of a diffe- 
 rent nature. It so happened, that there were found in tho 
 city twelve of those renegade Christians, who had deserted 
 to the Moors, and conveyed false intelligence during tho 
 biege. A barbarous species of punishment was inflicted upon 
 them, borrowed, it is said, from the Moors, and peculiar to 
 Ithese wan. They were tied to stakes, in a public place, and 
 
 m 
 
 
M: 
 
 TRE C0XQUE8T OF GBAXADA. 
 
 r»i 
 
 konemen exercised their skill in transpiercing them with 
 pointed reeds, hurled at them while careering at full speed, 
 until the miserable victims expired beneath their wounds. 
 Several apostate Moors, also, who, having embraced Christ- 
 ianity, had afterwards relapsed into their early feith, and had 
 taken refuge in Malaga from the vengeance of the Inquisition, 
 were publicly burnt. " These," says an old Jesuit historian, 
 exuitingly, " these were the tilts of reeds; and the illumina- 
 tions most pleasing for this victorious festival, and for the 
 catholic piety of our sovereigns !"♦ 
 
 When the city was cleansed from the impurities and offen- 
 sive odours which had collected during the si^e, the bishops, 
 and other clei^ who accompanied the court, and the choir 
 of the royal chapel, walked in procession to the principal 
 mosque, which was consecrated, and entitled Santa Maria de 
 la Incamacion. This done, the king and queen entered the 
 city, accompanied by the grand cardinal of Spain, and the 
 principal nobles and cavaliers of the army, and heard a 
 Bolemn mass. The church was then elevated into a cathedral, 
 and Malaga was made a bishopric, and many of the neigh- 
 bouring towns were comprehended in its diocese. The queen 
 took up her residence in the alcazaba, in the apartments of 
 her valiant treasurer, Ruy Lopez, whence she had a view of 
 the whole city; but the king established .his quarters in the 
 warrior castle of Gibralfaro. 
 
 And now came to be considered the disposition of the 
 Moorish prisoners. AU those who were strangers in the city, 
 and had either token refuge there, or had entered to defend 
 it, were at once considered slaves. They were divided into 
 three lots. One was set apart for the service of God, ih 
 redeeming captives from bondage, either in the kingdom of 
 Oranada, or in Africa; the second lot was divided among 
 those who had aided, either in the field or cabinet, in the 
 present siege, according to their rank; the third was appro- 
 priated to defray, by their sale, the great expenses incurred 
 in the reduction of the place. A hundred of the Gomeree 
 were sent as presents to Pope Innocent VIII., and were led 
 an triiwiph through the streets of Rome, and afterwards 
 
 * Los rensgadoa fueron acanavMVtdos ; 7 los coaTems qatmsdos : y 
 )MtQs fueron los oafiM y luminariM turn al^res per la fiesta de U yitori% 
 para la piodad catholica de nuestros reyes. Aoarca, Anales de AngoiL 
 lom. U. rey 80. c. a. ^ 
 
TBEATMENT OF TU£ INHABITANTS. 
 
 237 
 
 converted to Christianity. Fifty Moorish maidens were sent 
 to the Queen Joanna of Naples, sister to King Ferdinand, 
 and thirty to the Queen of Portugal. Isabella made presents 
 of others to the ladies of her household, aud of the noble 
 families of Spain. 
 
 Among the inhabitants of Malaga were four hundred and 
 fifty Moorish Jews, for the most part women, speaking the 
 Arabic languase, pnd dressed in the Moorish fashion. These 
 were ransomed by a wealthy Jew of Castile, farmer-general 
 6f the royal revenues derived from the Jews of Spain. He 
 agreed to make up, within a certain time, the sum of twenty 
 thousand doblas or pistoles of gold ; all money and jewels of 
 the captives being taken in payment. They were sent to 
 Castile in two armed galleys. 
 
 As to the great mass of Moorish inhabitants, they implored 
 that they might not be scattered and sold into captivity, but 
 might be permitted to ransom themselves by an amount paid 
 within a certain time. Upon this King Ferdinand took the 
 advice of certain of his ablest counsellors. They said to him, 
 if you hold out a prospect of hopeless captivity, the infidels 
 will throw all their gold and jewels into wells and pits, and 
 you will lose the greater part of the spoil; but if you fix a 
 general rate of ransom, and receive their money and jewels 
 in payment, nothing will be destroyed. The king relished 
 greatly this advice; and it was arranged, that all the inha* 
 bitants should be ransomed at the general rate of thirty 
 doblas or pistoles in gold for each individual, male or female, 
 large or small; that ^1 their gold, jewels, and other valuables, 
 should be received immediately, in part payment of the 
 general amoxmt; and that the residue should be paid within 
 eight months; that, if any of the number actually living 
 should die in the interim, their ransom should nevertheless 
 be claimed. If, however, the whole of the amount were 
 not discharged at the expiration of the eight months, they 
 ^ould all be considered and treated as slaves. 
 
 The unfortunate Moors were eager to catch at the least 
 hope of future liberty, and consented to these hard condi- 
 tions. The most rigorous precautions were taken to exaet 
 them to the uttermost. The inhabitants were numbered by 
 houses and families, and their names taken down. The|r 
 most precious eficcts were made up into parcels, and sealed 
 and inscribed with their names; and they were ordered io 
 
 ft'' 
 
 \ -I If' 
 
 :t 
 
 m 
 
 li 
 
 'H;j^ 
 
238 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBANADA. 
 
 Topoir with them to certain large corrales or enclosurefi, 
 adjoining the alcazaba, which were surrounded by high walls, 
 and overlooked by watch-towers ; to which places the caval- 
 gadas of Christian captives had usually been driven, to be 
 confined until the time of sale, like cattle in a market. The 
 Moors were obliged to leave their houses, one by one; all 
 their money, necklaces, bracelets and anklets of gold, pearl, 
 coral, and precious stones, were token from them at the 
 threshold, and their persons so rigorously searched, that they 
 carried off nothing concealed. 
 
 Then might be seen old men, and helpless women, and 
 tender maidens, some of high birth and gentle condition, 
 passing through the streets, heavily burdened, towards the 
 alcazaba. As they left their homes, they smote their breasts, 
 and wrung thtL hands, and raised their weeping eyes to 
 heaven in anguish; and this is recorded as their plaint; ** Oh, 
 Malaga; city renowned and beautiful! where now is the 
 strength of thy castles; where the grandeur of thy towers? 
 of what avail have been thy mighty walls for the protection 
 of thy children? Behold them m'iven from thy pleasant 
 abode, doomed to drag out a life of bondage in a foreign land, 
 and to die far from the home of their infancy! What will 
 become of thy old men and matrons, when their grey hairs 
 shall be no longer reverenced! what will become of thy 
 maidens, so delicately reared, and tenderly cherished, when 
 reduced to hard and menial servitude! Behold, thy once 
 happy families are scattered asunder, never again to be 
 imited! Sons are separated from their fathers, husbands from 
 their wives, and tender children from their mothers. They 
 will bewail each other in foreign lands; but their lamentations 
 will be; the scoff of the stranger. Oh, Malaga! city of our 
 birth! who can behold thy desolation, and not shed tears of 
 bitterness!"* 
 
 When Malaga was completely secured, a detachment was 
 sent against two fortresses near the sea, called Mexas and 
 Osuna; which had frequently harassed the Christian camp. 
 The inhabitants were thxeatened with the sword, unless they 
 instantly surrendered. They claimed the same terms that 
 had been granted to Malaga; imagining them to be, freedom 
 of person, and security of property. Their claim was 
 granted. They were transported to Malaga with all their 
 
 ♦ Pulgar. 
 
FBEPABATIONS FOR FURTHER WARFARE. 
 
 23^ 
 
 riclies; and, on arriving there, were overwhelmed with con^ 
 stemation at finding themselves captives. '* Ferdinand,'* 
 observes Fray Antonio Agapida, " was a man of his word : 
 they were shut up in the alcazaba, with the people of Ma. 
 laga, and shared their fate." 
 
 The unhappy captives remained thus crowded in the court- 
 yards of the alcazaba, like sheep in a fold, until they could 
 be sent by sea and land to Seville. They were then distri^ 
 buted about in city and country, each Christian family having 
 one or more to feed and maintain as a servant, until the temi 
 fixed for the payment of the residue of the ransom should 
 expire. The captives had obtained permission, that several 
 of their number should go about among the Moorish towns of 
 the kingdom of Granada, collecting contributions to aid in the 
 purchase of their liberties; but these towns were too much 
 impoverished by the war, and engrossed by their own dis- 
 tresses, to lend a listening ear. So the time expired, without 
 the residue of the ransom being paid; and all Uie captives of 
 Malaga, to the number, as some say, of eleven, and others, 
 of fifteen thousand, became slaves! " Never," exclaims the 
 worthy Fray Antonio Agapida, in one of his usual bursts of 
 zeal and loyalty, " never has there been recorded a more 
 adroit and sagacious arrangement than this made by the 
 Catholic monarch, by which he not only secured all the pro- 
 perty, and half of the ransom, of these infidels, but finally 
 got possession of their persons into the bargain. This truly 
 may be considered one of the greatest triumphs of the pious 
 and politic Ferdinand, and as raising him above the gererality 
 of conquerors, who have merely the valour to gain victories, 
 but lack the prudence and management necessary to turti 
 them to account." 
 
 *-V 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 \ 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■i. 
 
 m 
 
 CHAPTER LXVI. 
 
 The western pai't of the kingdom of Granada had now 
 been conquered by the Christian arms. The seaport of 
 Malaga was captured ; the fierce and warlike inhabitants 6f 
 the Serrania de Ronda, and the other moimtain holds of the 
 frontier, were all disarmed, and reduced to peaceful and 
 laborious vassalage. Their haughty fortresses, which had to 
 long overawed the valleys of Andalusia, now displayed the 
 standard of Castile and Arragon ; the watch-towers, whiijh 
 
240 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF UBANADA. 
 
 crowned every height, and from which the infidels had kept 
 a vulture eye on the Christian territories, were now either 
 dismantled, or garrisoned with Catholic troops. **What 
 signalized and sanctified this great triimiph," ados the worthy 
 Fray Antonio Agapida, "were the emblems of ecclesi- 
 astical domination which everj'where appeared. In every 
 direction arose stately convents and monasteries, those for- 
 tresses of the faith, garrisoned by its spiritual soldiery dT 
 monks and friars. The sacred melody of Christian bells was 
 again heard among the mountains, calling to early matins, or 
 bounding the angeles at the solemn hour of evening." 
 
 While this part of the kingdom was thus reduced by the 
 Christian sword, the central part, round the ci^ of Granada, 
 forming the heart of the Moorish territory, was held in vassa- 
 lage of the Castilian monarch, by Boabdil, surnamed £1 
 Chico. 
 
 That unfortunate prince lost no occasion, by acts of homage, 
 and by professions that must have been foreign to his heart, 
 to propitiate the conquerors of his coimtry. No sooner had 
 he heard of the capture of Malaga, than he sent congra- 
 tulations to the Catholic sovereigns, accompanied with pre- 
 sents of horses, richly caparisoned, for the king ; and precious 
 doth of gold, and oriental perfumes, for the queen. His 
 congratulations, and his presents, were received with the 
 . utmost graciousness ; and the short-sighted prince, lulled by 
 . the temporary and politic forbearance of Ferdinand, flattered 
 himself that he was securing the lasting friendship of that 
 monarch. 
 
 The policy of Boabdil had its transient and superficial 
 advantages. The portion of Moorish territory under his 
 immediate sway, had a respite from the calamities of war. 
 The husbandmen cidtivated their luxuriant fields in security, 
 and the vega of Granada once more blossomed like the rose. 
 The merchants again carried on a gainful traffic, and the 
 sates of the city were thronged with beasts of buiden, bring- 
 ing the rich products of every clime. Yet, while the people 
 of Granada rejoiced in their teeming fields and crowded 
 marts, they secretly despised the policy which had procured 
 them these advantages, and held Boabdil for little better than 
 im apostate and an unbeliever. 
 
 Muley Abdalla el Zagal was now the hope of the uncon- 
 ^uered part of the kingdom ; and every Moor, whose spirit 
 
PREFABATI0N8 FOB FUBTHEB WARFARE. 
 
 241 
 
 was not quite subdued with hia fortunes, lauded the valour of 
 the old monarch, and his fidelity to the faith, and wished 
 success to his standard. 
 
 £1 Z^;al, though he no longer sat enthroned in the Alham- 
 bra, yet reigned over more considerable domains than his 
 nephew. His territories extended from the frontier of Jaen, 
 along the borders of Murcia, to the Mediterranean, and 
 reached into the centre of the kingdom. On the north-east 
 he held the cities of Baza and .Guadix, situate in the midst of 
 fertile regions. He had the important seaport of Almeria, 
 also, which at one time rivalled Granada itself in wealth and 
 popidation. Besides these, his territories included a great 
 part of the Alpuxarra mountains, which extend across the 
 kingdom, and shoot out branches towards the sea coast. This- 
 mountainous region was a strong-hold of wealth and power. 
 Its stem and rocky height, rising to the clouds, seemed to set 
 invasion at defiance ; yet within their rugged embraces were 
 sheltered delightful valleys, of the happiest temperature and 
 richest fertility. The cool springs and limpid rills, which 
 gushed out in all parts of the mountains, and the abundant 
 streams, which, for a great part of the year, were supplied by 
 the Sierra Nevada, spread a perpetual verdure over the skirte- 
 and slopes of the hills, and, collecting in silver rivers in th^ 
 valleys, wound along among plantations of mulberry-trees^ 
 and groves of oranges and citrons, of almonds, figs, and 
 pomegranates. Here was produced the finest silk of Spain^ 
 which gave employment to thousands of manufacturers. The 
 sunburnt sides of the hills, also, were covered with vineyards. 
 The abundant herbage of the mountain ravines, and the rich 
 pasturage of the valleys, fed vast flocks and herds ; and even 
 the arid and rocky bosoms of the heights teemed with wealth, 
 from the mines of various metals with which they were im- 
 pregnated. In a word, the Alpuxarra mountains had ever 
 been the great source of revenue to the monarohs of Granada. 
 Their inhabitants, also, were hardy and warlike; and a 
 sudden summons from the Moorish king could at any tioie 
 call forth fiifty thousand fighting men from their rocky for'- 
 tresses. 
 
 Such was the rich, but rugged, fragment of an empire, 
 which remained under the sway of the old warrior monarch, 
 £1 Zagal. The mountain barriers, by which it was locked 
 up, had protected it from most of the ravages of war, and £1 
 
 I 
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 ^,.. 
 
 M 
 
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 ^ !>t' 
 
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242 
 
 THE COKQUEST OF OBANADA. 
 
 Ii 1 
 
 Zagal prepared himself, by strengthening every fortress, to 
 battle fiercely for its maintenance. 
 
 The Catholic sovereigns saw that fresh troubles and toils 
 awaited them. The war had to be carried into a new quarter, 
 demanding immense expenditures ; and new ways and means 
 must be devised, to replenish their exhausted coffers. " As 
 this was a holy war, however," says Fray Antonio Agapida, 
 " and peculiarly redounded to the prosperity of the church, 
 the clergy were full of zeal, and contributed vast sums of 
 money and large bodies of troops. A pious fund was also 
 produced from the fii'st fruits of that glorious institution, the 
 Inquisition. 
 
 " It so happened that, about this time, there were many 
 families of wealth and dignity in the kingdoms of Arragon 
 and Valencia, and the principality of Catalonia, whose fore- 
 fathers had been Jews, but had been converted to Christianity. 
 Notwithstanding the outward piety of these families, it was 
 sunnised, and soon came to be strongly suspected, that many 
 of them had a secret hankering after Judaism ; and it was 
 even whispered, that some of them practised Jewish rites in 
 private. 
 
 *'The Catholic monarch," continues Agapida, "had a 
 
 righteous abhorrence of all kinds of heresy, and a fervent 
 
 zeal for the faith. He ordered, therefore, a strict investigation 
 
 -of the conduct of these pseudo-Christians. Inquisitors were 
 
 ' sent into these provinces for the purpose, who proceeded with 
 
 their accustomed zeal. The consequence was, that many 
 
 families were convicted of apostasy from the Christian faith, 
 
 and of the private practice of Judaism. Some, who had grace 
 
 and policy sufficient to reform in time, were again received 
 
 into the Christian fold, after being severely mulcted, and 
 
 condemned to heavy penance ; others were burnt at auto da 
 
 y^'s, for the edification of the public ; and their property was 
 
 ■confiscated for the good of the state. 
 
 ■ "As these Hebrews were of great wealth, and had a here- 
 ditary passion for jewelry, there was found abundant store in 
 ~their possession of gold and silver, of rings, and necklaces, 
 and strings of pearl, and coral, and precious stones: treasures 
 ■easy of transportation, and wonderfully adapted for the emer- 
 ^ncies of war. In this way," concludes the pious Agapida, 
 •** these backsliders, by the all-seeing contrivances of Pio- 
 -vidence, were made to serve the righteous cause which they 
 
■MMiB 
 
 to 
 
 idn. 
 
 FOSAY OF EL ZAGAL. 
 
 243^ 
 
 had 80 treacherously deserted ; and their opostate weolth waa. 
 sanctified by being devoted to the service of lleavcu and the 
 crown, in tins holy crusade against the infidels." 
 
 It must be added, however, that these pious financial cxpe-. 
 dients received some check from the interference of Quf>«xi 
 Isabella, Her penetrating eyes discovered, t^at many er.or- 
 mities had been committed under colour of reli,. iouK /.eul, bavI 
 many innocent persons accused by false witnete.'s oi uposto; y, 
 either through malice, or a hope of obtainiiig their weoith.. 
 She caused strict investigation, therefore, into tiv itToacc^'ni'^s 
 which had been held ; many of which were Tcv.'rsfd, and 
 subomera punished in proportion to their giulv."'' ^ 
 
 CHAPTER LXVII. ; 
 
 "MuLEY Abdalla el Zagal," says the venerable josiiit 
 father, Pedro Abarca, " was the most venomovii. Mahomottti 
 in all Morisma ;" and the worthy Fray Antonio Agapidaraost 
 devoutly echoes his opinion. " Certainly," adds the latter, 
 " none ever opposed a more heathenish and diabolical ciJjsti* 
 nacy to the holy inroads of the cross and sword. ' 
 
 El Zagal felt that it was necessary to do some thing to 
 quicken his popularity with the people ; and that nothing wu^ 
 more effectual than a successul inroad. The Moors loved the 
 stirring call to arms, and a wild foray among the luouutains y 
 and delighted more in a hasty spoil, wrested with hard fight- 
 ing from the Christians, than in all the atoa ly and certain, 
 gains secured by peaceful traffic. 
 
 There reigned at this time a careless security akvng the 
 frontier of Jaen. The alcaydes of the Ciristian fortiossc^ 
 were confident of the friendship of Boa) <')1 el Cliieo ; and they 
 fancied his uncle too distant, and tc v iuucii engrossed by hi^ 
 own perplexities, to think of molesting them. On a sudden. 
 El Zagal issued out of G'lidix with a chosen band, passed, 
 rapidly through the mountains which extend behind Gi'anada^ 
 and fell, like a thimderbolt, upon the territories in the neigh- 
 boiirhood of Alcala la Keal. , 
 
 Before the alarm could be spread, and the frontier roused,^ 
 
 he had made a wide career of destruction through the country; 
 
 sacking and biurning villages, sweeping off flocks and herds,- 
 
 aud carrying away captives. The warriors of the frontier 
 
 • Pulgar, part iii. cap. 100, - 
 
 I 5 
 
 tn 
 
 
 ^!if# 
 
 
 
 m 4 
 
 'ill 
 
 lis: ■ 
 
 .^m 
 
S44 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF 03ANAOA. 
 
 assembled ; but El Zagal was already far on his return tbrougb 
 the mountains; and he re-entered the gates of Guadix in 
 triumph, his army laden with Christian spoil, and conducting 
 fln immense cavnlgada. Such was one of the fierce £1 Zagal's 
 preparations for the expected invasion of the Christian king ; 
 exciting the warlike spirit of his people, and gaining for him- 
 self a transient popularity. 
 
 King Ferdinand assembled his army at Murcia in the 
 spriRg of 1488. He left that city on the fifth of June, with a 
 ^ing camp of four thousand horse, and fourteen thousand 
 floot. The Marquis of Cadiz led the van, followed by the 
 adelantado of Murcia. The army entered the Moorish frontier 
 by the seacoast, spreading terror through the land ; wherever 
 it appeared, the towns surrendered wiUiout a blow, so great 
 was the dread of experiencing the woes which had desolated 
 the opposite frontier. In this way. Vera, Velez el Rubico, 
 Yeles el Blanco, and many towns of inferior note, to the 
 number of sixty, yielded at the first summons. 
 
 It was not imtil it approached Almeria, that the army met 
 trith resistance. This important city was commanded hy the 
 Prince Zelim, a relation of El Zagal. He led forth his Moors 
 bravely to the encounter, and skirmished fiercely with the 
 advance guard in the gardens near the city. King Ferdinand 
 eame up with the main body of the army, and called off his 
 troops from the skirmish. He saw, thot to attack the plaoe 
 trith his present force was fruitless : having reconnoitred the 
 city and its environs, therefore, against a future campaign, be 
 retired with his army and marched towards Bassa. 
 
 The old warrior, El Zagal, vas himself drawn up in the 
 city of Baza, with a powcifril garrison. He felt confidence in 
 the strength of the place, and rejoiced when he heard, that 
 the Christian king was approaching. 
 
 In the valley in front of Baza there extended a great tmct 
 of gardens, like a continued grove, and intersected by ct nals 
 and water courses. In this he stationed a powerful ambus- 
 cade of arquebusiers, and crossbowmen. The vanguard of the 
 Christian army came marching gaily up the valley, with great 
 ■oimd of drum and trumpet, and lea on by the Marquis of 
 Cadiz, and the adelantado of Murcia. As thev drew near, El 
 Zagal sallied forth, with liorse and foot, and attacked them, 
 for a time with great spirit. Gradually fiilUng back, as if 
 |)reMed by their aupcnor valour, ht drew the exulting 
 
F£BDINA3(0 S BECEPTIOX AT BAZA. 
 
 245 
 
 Christians among the gardens. Suddenly the Moors in am- 
 buscade burst from their conceahucnt, and opened such a 
 terrible fire in flank and rear, that many of the Christians 
 were shun, and the rest thrown into confusion. King Ferdi- 
 nand arrived in time to see the disastrous situation of his 
 troops, and gave signal to the van-guard to retire. 
 
 £1 Zagal did not permit the foe to draw ofi" immolcsted. 
 Ordering out fresh squadrons, he fell upon the rear of the 
 retreating troops, with loud and triumphant shouts, driving 
 them before him with dreadful havoc. The old war cry of 
 *' £1 Zagal ! £1 Zagal !" was again vociferated by the Moors, 
 and was re-echoed with transport fi*on\ the walls of the city. 
 The Christians were for a time in imminent peril of a complete 
 rout ; when fortunately the adelantado of Miutsia threw him- 
 ■elf, with a large body of horse and foot, between the pur- 
 suers and the pursued, covering the retreat of the latter, and 
 giving them time to rally. The Moors were now attacked so 
 vigorously in turn, that they gave over the unequal contest, 
 and drew back slowly into the city. Many valiant cavaliers 
 were slain in the skirmish ; among the number of whom was 
 Don Philip of Arragon, master of the chivalry of Saint George 
 of Montcsor. He was illegitimate son of the king's illegitimate 
 brother, Don Carlos, and his death was greatly bewailed by 
 Ferdinand. He had formerly been archbishop of Palermo ; 
 but had doffed the cassock for the cuirass; and had thus, 
 according to Fray Antonio Agapida, gained a glorious crown 
 of martyrdom, by foiling in this holy war. 
 
 The warm reception of his advance guard, by the old 
 warrior El Zagal, brought King Ferdinand to a pause. He 
 encamped on the banks of the neighbouring river Ouadalentin, 
 and began to consider, whether he had acted wisely, in under- 
 taking this campaign with his present force. His late suc- 
 cesses had probably rendered him over confident. £1 Zagid 
 had again scnooled him into his characteristic caution. He 
 ■aw, that the old warrior was too formidably ensconced in 
 Bam, to be dislodgeJ by an}'thing except a powerful army, 
 ttad battering artillery ; and he feared, that, should he persist 
 in his invasion, some disaster might befall his army, either 
 frtnn the enterprise of the foe, or from a pestilence which pre- 
 Tftiled in various parts of the country. 
 
 Ferdinand retired therefore from before Baza, as he had on 
 a fiormer occasion from before Loxa, all the wiser for a who]»» 
 
 1' ^ 
 
 s- • ■ 
 
24e 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 some lesson in warfare, but by no means ^^teful to those who 
 had given it ; and with a solemn determination to have his 
 revenge upon his teachers. 
 
 He now took measures for the security of the places gained 
 in this campaign, placing in them strong garrisons, well 
 armed and supplied, charging their alcaydcs to be vigilant in 
 their posts, and to give no rest to the enemy. The whole of 
 the frontier was placed under the conmiand of the brave Luis 
 Fernandez Puerto Cuirero. As it was evident, from the war- 
 like character of El Zngal, that there would be abundance of 
 active service and hard fighting, many hidalgos and young 
 cavaliers, eager for distinction, remained with Puerto Carrcro; 
 
 All tlicso dispositions being made. King Ferdinand closed 
 the dubious campaign of this year ; not, as usual, by returning 
 in triumph, at the head of his army, to some important city of 
 his dominions ; but by disbanding the troops, and repairing to 
 pray at the cross of Caravaca. 
 
 CHAPTER LXVIII. 
 
 " While the pious King Ferdinand," observes Fray Anto- 
 nio Agapida., *' was humbling himself before the cross, and 
 devoutly praying for the destruction of his enemies, that fierce 
 pagan, £)1 Zagal, depending merely on his arm of flesh, and 
 his sword of steel, pursued his diabolical outrages upon the 
 Cliristians." No sooner was the invading army disbanded,: 
 than El Zagal sallied forth from his strong-hold, and carried 
 fire and sword into all those paits that had submitted to the 
 Spanish yoke. The castle of Nixar, being carelessly guurded, 
 was taken by surprise, and its garrison put to the sword. Tho 
 old warrior raged with sanguinary fury about the whole 
 frontier, attacking convoys, slaying, wounding, and making 
 prisoners, and coming by surprise upon the Christians, where- 
 ever they were off their guard. 
 
 The ulcayde of the fortress of Callar, confiding in tho 
 strength of its walls and towers, and on its difficult sittiation, 
 being bmlt on the summit of a lofty hill, and surrounded by 
 precipices, ventured to absent himself from his post. Tho 
 vigilant £1 Zagal was suddenly before it with a powerful force. 
 He stormed the town, sword in hand, fought the Christiana 
 firom street to street, and drove tliem, with great slaughter, 
 to the citadel. Here a veteran captain, by the name of Juan. 
 
BAVAOKS OF £7. /VGAL. 
 
 217 
 
 de Avalos, a greyheaded warrior, scarred hi many a battle, 
 amumed the commaud, and made an obstinate defence. 
 Neither the multitude of the enemy, the vehemence of their 
 attacks, though led on by the terrible El Zagal himself, had 
 power to shake the fortitude of this doughty old soldier. 
 
 The Moors undermined the outer walls, and one of the towers 
 of the fortress, and made tlicir way into the exterior court. The 
 alcayde manned the tops of his towers ; pouring down melted 
 pitch, and showering darts, arrows, stones, and all kinds of 
 missiles, upon the assailants. Tlie Moors were driven out of 
 the court ; but, being reinforced with fresh troops, returned 
 repeatedly to the assault. For five days the combat was kept 
 up. The Christians were nearly exhausted; but they were 
 sustained by the choerings of their stanch old alcayde ; and 
 they feared death from the cruel £1 Zagal, should they sur- 
 render. At length, the approach of a powerful force, under 
 Puerto Carrero, relieved them from this fearful peril. El 
 Zagal abandoned the assault ; but set fire to the town in his 
 rage and disappointment, and retired to his strong-hold of 
 Guadix. 
 
 The example of El Zagal roused his adherents to action. 
 .Two bold Moorish alcaydes, Ali Altar and Yza Altar, com- 
 manding the fortresses of Alhenden and Salobrenna, laid waste 
 the country of the subjects of fioabdil, and the places M'hich 
 had recently submitted to the Christians. They swept oiF the 
 cattle, carried off captivef, and harassed the whole of tho 
 newly conquered frontier. 
 
 < The Moors, also, of Almeria, and Tavemas, and Purcheno, 
 
 made inroads into Murcia, and carried fire and sword into its 
 
 .most fertile regions ; while on the opposite frontier, among 
 
 ihe wild valleys and rugged recesses of the Sierra Hermeja, or 
 
 iRed Mountains, many of the Moors, who had lately submitted, 
 
 again fled to arms. The Marquis of Cadiz suppressed, by 
 
 timely vigilimce, the rebellion of the mountain town of Gauscu, 
 
 situate on a high peak, almost among the clouds ; but others 
 
 of the Moors fortified themselves in rock-built towers and 
 
 castles, inhabited solely by warriors, whence they carried on a 
 
 continual war of forage and depredation ; sweeping suddenly 
 
 down into the valleys, and carrying off flocks, and herds, and 
 
 all kinds of booty, to these eagle nests, to which it was 
 
 perilous and fruitless to pursue thcra. 
 
 The worthy Fray Antonio Agapida closes his story of this 
 
 
348 
 
 THK COVQUXST OV OXAVADA. 
 
 chequered year in quite a difibrent strain from those triumphant 
 periods, with which he is accustomed to wind up the viotorious 
 campaigns of the sovereigns. " Qreai and mi^ty," says this 
 venerable chronicler, " were the floods and tempests, which 
 prevailed throughout the kLugdom of Castile and Arragon 
 about this time. It seemed as though the windows of heaven 
 were again opened, and a second deluge overwhelming the 
 fiice of nature. The clouds burst, as it were, in cataracts upon 
 the earth ; torrents rushed down from the mountains, over- 
 flowing the valleys. Brooks were swelled into raging rivers ; 
 houses were undermined ; mills were swept away by Uieir own 
 streams ; the affinghted shepherds saw their flocks drowned in 
 the midst of the pasture, and were fain to take refuge for their 
 lives in towers and high places. The Quadalquivir, for a time, 
 became a roaring and tumultuous sea ; inundating the immense 
 pluln of the Tablada, and filling the &ir ci^ of Seville with 
 afiVight. 
 
 " A vast black cloud moved over the land, accompanied 
 by a hurricane and a trembling of the earth. Houses were 
 unroofed, the walls and battlements of fortresses shaken, 
 and lofty towers rocked to their foundations. Ships, riding 
 at anchor, were either stranded or swallowed up. Others, 
 under sail, were tossed to and fro upon mountain wavef, 
 and cast upon the land; where the whirlwind rent them 
 in pieces, and scattered their fragments in the air. Dolelbl 
 was the ruin, and great the terror, where this baleftd 
 could passed by ; and it left a long tnct of desolation ovtr 
 •ea and land. Some of the faint-hearted," adds Antonio 
 Agapida, " looked upon this tumult of the elements as a pro- 
 digious event out of the course of nature. In the wealmeaB 
 of their fears, they connected it with those troubles which 
 occurred in various places ; considering it a portent of some 
 nreat calamity, about to be wrought bv the violence of the 
 bloody-handed £1 Zagal and hit fierce ad^renti." 
 
CHRONICLE 
 
 or THK 
 
 CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 FROM THE HSS. OF T&kY ANTONIO AGAHDA. 
 
 TO WHICH IS ADDED 
 
 
 m 
 
 1 1 H, 
 
 11 
 
 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 IT 
 
 WASHINGTON IRVING. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. IL 
 
 LONDON: 
 HENBY G. BOHN, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 
 
 1850. 
 
lomdom: 
 
 PaiMTKU BY BAHBISON AMD aON, 
 •T. MAKTIM's LkWt. 
 
C0WTENT8. 
 
 Page 
 CHAP. LXIX.— How King Ferdinand prepared to besiege the 
 city of Baza; and liow tlie city prepared for defence . 249 
 
 CHAP. LXX.— Tlie battle of tlie Gardens before Baza . . 263 
 
 CHAP. LXXI.— Siege of Baza. Embarraaamcnt of tlie army . 267 
 
 CHAP. LXXIL— Siege of Baza continued. How King" Ferdinand 
 completely investid the city .... 26^ 
 
 CHAP. LXXIIL— Exploit of Hernando Perez del Polgar, and 
 other cavaliers ...... 26^ 
 
 CHAP. LXXIY.— Continuation of the siege of Baza . . 264 
 
 CHAP. LXXY.— How two friars arrived at the camp, and how 
 
 they came from the Holy Land 
 
 267 
 
 CHAP. LXXVI.— How Queen Isabella devised means to supply 
 the army with provisions .... 271 
 
 CHAP. LXXYIL-'Of the disasters which befel the camp 
 
 273 
 
 rm 
 
 \!i, til 
 
 CHAP. LXXTIII.— Encounter betwe(fti the Christians- and Moors 
 before Baza; and the devotion of the inhabitants to the 
 defence ot the city ..... 27() 
 
 CHAt*. LXXtX.— How Queen Isabella arrives at the camp ; and 
 the cc nsequences pf her arrival .... 278 
 
 CHAP. LXXX.— Surrender of Baza 
 
 . 281 
 
 CHAP. LXXXI.— Submis^on of El Zagal to the Castilian 
 sovereigns ....... 286 
 
 CHAP* LXXXII. — Events at Granada subsequent to the submis- 
 sion of £1 Zagal ..... 269 
 
 CHAP. LXXXIII.— How King Eerdinand turned his hostilities 
 against the city of Granada . . . . 298 
 
 CHAP. LXX'XIY.— The &te of the castle of Roma 
 
 . 297 
 
 CHAP. LXXXY.— How Boabdil el Chico took the field; and his 
 expedition against Alhendin .... 299 
 
 mm 
 
 1* w 
 
 CHAP. LXXXYI.— Exploit of the Count de Tendilla 
 
 . 302 
 
■-■.■•tea ,^«u,*jjw«»«i»-^ 
 
 CONTEXTS. 
 
 Page 
 CHAP. LXXXVII.— Expedition of Boabdil el Chico against 
 Salobrcfla. Exploit of Fernando Perez del Pulgar . . 305 
 
 CHAP. LXXXVIII.— How King Ferdinand treated the people of 
 Quadix, and how £1 Zagal finished his royal career . . 809 
 
 CHAP. LXXXIX. — Preparations of Granada for a desperate 
 defence ....... 313 
 
 CHAP. XC. — How King Ferdinand conducted the siege cautionsly, 
 ana how Queen Isabella arrived at the camp . .316 
 
 CHAP. XCL— Of the insolent defiance of Tarfe, the Moor, and the 
 daring exploit of Fernando Perez del Pulgar . .313 
 
 CHAP. XCn. — How Queen Isabella took a view of the city of 
 Granada, and how her curiosity cost the lives of many Chris- 
 tians and Moors ...... 320 
 
 CHAP. XCIII.— Conflagration of the Christian camp 
 CHAP. XCIV.— The last ravage before Granada 
 
 325 
 327 
 
 CHAP. XCV.— Building of the city of Santa T6. Despair of the 
 Moors ....... 330 
 
 CHAP. XCVI.— Capitutotion of Granada 
 CHAP. XCVII.— Commotions in Granada 
 CHAP. XCVIII.— Surrender of Granada 
 
 333 
 336 
 338 
 
 CHAP. XCIX.— How the Castilian sovereigns took possession of 
 Granada ....... 342 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Fate of Boabdil £1 Chico 
 
 Death of the Marquis of Cadiz . . . 
 
 The legend of the death of Don Alonzo de Agoilar 
 
 . 346 
 . 343 
 . 851 
 
 attei 
 
 army 
 
 marc 
 
 the 
 
 chile 
 
 dina 
 
 her 
 
 Perdi 
 
 remai 
 
 taken, 
 
 power 
 
 advaiK 
 
 holds, 
 
 his ar 
 
 cially 
 
 with 
 
 The b; 
 
 and en 
 
 ^arrioi 
 
 and he 
 
 fire fix) 
 
UiWMUWM'H 
 
 "fm-m 
 
 . 333 
 . 336 
 . 338 
 
 . 346 
 . 348 
 
 A CHRONICLE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIX. 
 
 THE SIEGE OF BAZA. 
 
 The stonuy winter had passed away, and the spring of 
 1489 was advancing; yet the heavy rains had broken up the 
 roads ; the mountain brooks were swollen to raging torrents ; 
 and the late shallow and peaceful rivers were deep, turbulent, 
 and dangerous. The Christian troops had been summoned to 
 assemble, in early spring, on the frontiers of Jaen ; but were 
 slow in arriving at the appointed place. They were entan- 
 gled in the miry defiles of the mountains, or fretted impa- 
 tiently on the banks of impassable floods. It was late in the 
 month of May before they assembled in sufficient force to 
 attempt the proposed invasion; when, at length, a valiant 
 army, of thirteen thousand horse and forty thousand foot, 
 marched merrily over the border. The queen remained at 
 the city of Jaen, with the prince royal and the princesses, her 
 children ; accompanied and supported by the venerable Car- 
 dinal of Spain, and those reverend prelates who assisted in 
 her councils throughout this holy war. The plan of King 
 Ferdinand was to lay siege to the city of Baza, the key of the 
 remaining possessions of the Moor. That important fortress 
 taken, Guadix and Almeria must soon follow ; and then the 
 power of £1 Zagal woidd be at an end. As the Catholic king 
 advanced, he had first to secure various castles and strong- 
 holds, in the vicinity of Baza, which might otherwise harass 
 his army. Some of these made obstinate resistance ; espe- 
 cially the town of Cuxar. The Christians assailed the walls 
 with various machines, to sap them and batter them down. 
 The brave alcayde, Hubec Adalgar, opposed force to force, 
 and engine to engine. He manned his towers with his bravest 
 warriors, who rained down an iron shower upon the enemy; 
 and he linked cauldrons together by strong chains, and cast 
 fire from them, consuming the wooden engines of their ••- 
 
 .'•:- *a 
 
 1 1 
 
 Mm 
 
 
 I- ^1 
 
250 
 
 THB CONQUEST OF OBANADA. 
 
 \ i!' 
 
 sailants, and those who managed them. The siege was pro- 
 tracted for several days. The bravery of the alcayde coidd 
 not save his fortress from an overwhehning foe, but it gained 
 him honowiible terms. Ferdinand permitted the garrison 
 and the inhabitants to repair with their effeets to Uaza ; and 
 the valiant llubcc Adalgar marched forth with the remnant 
 of his force, and took the way to that devoted city. 
 
 ITie delays, which had been caused to the invading army 
 by these various circumstances, had been diligently improved 
 by the old Moorish El Zagal; who felt that he was now 
 making his last stand for empire ; and that this campaign 
 would decide, whether he should continue a king, or sink into 
 a vassal. 
 
 El Zagal was but a few leagues from Baza, at the city of 
 Guadix. This last was the most important point of his re- 
 maining territories, being a kind of bulwark between them 
 and the hostile city of Granada, the scat of his nephew's 
 power. Though he heard of the tide of war, therefore, that 
 was collecting, and rolling towards the city of Baza, he dared 
 not go in person to its assistance. He dreaded that, should 
 he leave Guadix, Boabdil would attack him in rear, while the 
 Christian army was battling with him in front. El Zagal 
 trusted in the great strength of Baza to defy any violent as- 
 saults ; and he profited by the delays of the Christian army, 
 to supply it with all possible means of defence. He sent 
 thither all the troops he could spare from his gamson of 
 Guadix, and despatched missives throughout his territories, 
 calling upon all true Moslems to hasten to Baza, to make a 
 devoted stand in defence of their homes, their liberties, and 
 their religion. The cities of Tavernas and Purchena, and the 
 suri'ounding heights and valleys, responded to his orders, and 
 sent forth their fighting men to the field. The rocky fast- 
 nesses of the Alpujarras resounded with the din of arms. 
 Troops of horse and bodies of foot soldiers were seen winding 
 down the rugged cliffs and defiles of those marble mountains, 
 and hastening towards Baza. Many brave cavaliers of Gra- 
 neda, also, spuming the quiet and security of Christian vas- 
 salage, secretly left the city, and hastened to join their fighting 
 countrj-men. The great dependence of El Zagal, however, 
 was upon the valour and loyalty of his cousin and brother-in- 
 law, Cidi Yahye Alnazar Abcn Zelim, who was alcayde of 
 Almeria \ a cavalier experienced in warfare, and redoubtable 
 
DEFENSIVE MEASUBES OF EL ZAOA.L. 
 
 251 
 
 pro- 
 aiild 
 incd 
 ison 
 and 
 nant 
 
 army 
 roved 
 now 
 paign 
 k into 
 
 ;ity of 
 liis re- 
 them 
 phew' 8- 
 •e, that 
 J dared 
 should 
 lile the 
 L Zagal 
 lent as- 
 a army, 
 le sent 
 irieon of 
 ritories, 
 make a 
 ies, and 
 and the 
 lers, and 
 cky fast- 
 if arms, 
 winding 
 ountains, 
 t of Gra- 
 itian vas- 
 r fighting 
 however, 
 •other-in- 
 Icaydc of 
 doubtable 
 
 in the field. He wrote to him, to leave Almcria, and repair, 
 with all speed, at the head of his troops, to Baza. Cidi Yahyc 
 departed immediately, with ten thousand of the bravest Moors 
 in the kingdom. These were, i'or tlic most part, hardy moun- 
 taineers, tempered to sun and storm, and tried in many a 
 combat. None equalled them for a sally or a skirmish. They 
 were adroit in executing a thousand stratagems, ambuscades, 
 and evolutions. Impetuous in tlieii* assaults, yet governed in 
 their utmost fury by a word or sign from their commander, at 
 the sound of a trumpet, they would check themselves in the 
 midst of their career, and wheel off and disperse ; and, at 
 another sound of a trumpet, they would as suddenly reas- 
 semble, and return to the attack. They were upon the enemy 
 when least expected, coming like a rushing blast, spreadmg 
 havoc and consternation, and then passing away in an instant ; 
 so that, when one recovered from the shock, and looked 
 around, behold, nothing was seen or heard of this tempest of 
 war, but a cloud of dust, and the clatter of retreating troops ! 
 When Cidi Yahye led his train of ten thousand valiant 
 warriors into the gates of Baza, the city rung with acclama- 
 tions ; and for a time the inhabitants thought themselves 
 secure. El Zagal also felt a glow of confidence, notwith- 
 standing his own absence from the city. " Cidi Yahye," said he, 
 is my cousin and my brother-in-law, related to me by blood 
 and marriage: he is a second self: happy is that monarch 
 who has his kinsman to command his armies !" With all these 
 reinforcements, the gaiTison of Baza amounted to above twenty 
 thousand men. There were at this time three principal 
 leaders in the city ; Mahommed ben Hassan, sumamed the 
 Veteran, who was military governor, or alcayde, an old Moor 
 of great experience and discretion. The second was Hamet 
 Abu Hali, who was captain of the troops stationed in the 
 place ; and the third was Hubec Adalgar, the valiant alcayde 
 of Cuxar, who had repaired hither with the remains of his 
 garrison. Over all these Cidi Yahye exercised a supreme 
 command, in consequence of his being of the blood royal, and 
 in the special confidence of Muley Abdalla El Zagal. He was 
 eloquent and ardent in council, and fond of striking and 
 splendid achievements ; but he was a little prone to be car- 
 ried away by the excitement of the moment, and the warmth 
 of his imagination. The councils of war of these commanders, 
 therefore, were more frequently controlled by the opinions of 
 
 b2 
 
 ^l^vU 
 
T-CflP" 
 
 262 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBANADA.. 
 
 I n 
 
 the old alcayde, Mohammed ben Hnssan, for whose shrewdness, 
 caution, and experience, Cidi Yahye himself felt the greatest 
 deference. 
 
 The city of Baza was situate in a spacious valley, eight 
 leases in length and three in breadth, called the Hoya or 
 Imsm of Baza. It was surrounded by a range of mountains, 
 called the Sierra Xabalcohol ; the streams of which, collecting 
 themselves into two rivers, watered and fertilized the country. 
 The city was built in the plain ; but one part of it was pro- 
 tected by the rocky precipices of the mountain, and by a 
 powerful citadel ; the other part was defended by massive 
 walls, studded with immense towers. It had suburbs towards 
 the plain, imperfectly fortified by earthen walls. In front of 
 these suburbs extended a tract of orchards and gardens, 
 nearly a league in length, so thickly planted as to resemble a 
 continued forest. Here every citizen, who could afford it, 
 had his little plantation, and his garden of fruit, and flowers, 
 and vegetables ; watered by canals and rivulets, and domi- 
 nated by a small tower, to serve for recreation or defence. 
 This wilderness of groves and gardens, intersected in all parts 
 by canals and runs of water, and studded by above a thousand 
 small towers, formed a kind of protection to this side of the 
 city ; rendering all approach extremely difficult and per- 
 plexed, and affording covert to the defenders. 
 
 While the Christian army had been detained before the 
 frontier posts, the city of Baza had been a scone of hurried 
 and unremitting preparation. All the grain of the surround- 
 ing valley, though yet unripe, was hastily reaped, and borne 
 into the city, to prevent it from yielding sustenance to the 
 enemy. The country was drained of all its supplies. Flocks 
 and nerds were driven, bleating and bellowing, into the 
 gates. Long trains of beasts of burden, some laden with 
 IrxkI, others with lances, darts, and arms of all kinds, kept 
 pouring into the place. Already there were mimitions col- 
 tected sufficient for a siege of fifteen months ; yet still the 
 eager and hasty preparations were going on, when the army 
 of Ferdinand came in sight. On one side might be seen 
 scattered parties of foot and horse, spurring to the gates ; 
 and muleteers, hurrying forward their burdened animals ; all 
 anxious to get under shelter before the gathering st<nin. On 
 the other side, the cloud of war came sweeping down the 
 TBlley ; the roll of drum, or clang of trumpet, resounding 
 
8£IOE OF THE CITT OF BkZk. 
 
 363 
 
 oecanonally from its deep bosom, or the bright glance of 
 of arms flashing forth like vivid lightning from its colunms* 
 King Ferdinand pitched his tents in *^ie valley, beyond the 
 green labyrinth of gardens. He sent his heralds to summon 
 the city to surrender, promising the most favourable terms, 
 in case of immediate compliance ; and. i^vuwing, in the mo«t 
 solemn terms, his resolution, never to abandon the siege, until 
 he had possession of the place. 
 
 Upon receiving this summons, the Moorish commanders 
 held a council of war. The prince Cidi Yahye, indignant at 
 the menace of the king, was for retorting by a declaration, 
 that the garrison never would surrender, but would fight 
 until buried imder the ruins of the walls. " Of what avail," 
 said the veteran Mohammed, " is a declaration of the kind, 
 which we may falsify by our deeds? Let us threaten what 
 we know we can perform ; and let us endeavour to perform 
 more than we threaten." In conformity to the advice of 
 Mohammed ben Hassan, therefore, a laconic reply was sent 
 to the Christian monarch, thanking him for his ofier of favomr- 
 able terms, but informing him, that they were placed in tho 
 city to defend, not to surrender it. 
 
 CHAPTER LXX. 
 
 When the reply of the Moorish commanders was brought 
 to King Ferdinand, he prepared to press the siege with the 
 utmost rigour. Finding the camp too far from the city, and 
 that the intervening orchards afforded shelter for the sallies of 
 the Moors, he determined to advance it beyond the gardens, 
 in the space between them and the suburbs, where his bat- 
 teries would have fuU play upon the city waUs. A detach- 
 ment was sent in advance, to take possession of the gardens, 
 and to keep a check upon the suburbs, opposing any sally, 
 while the encampment should be formed and fortified. The 
 various commanaers entered the orchards at different points. 
 The young cavaliers marched fearlessly forward, but the expe- 
 rienosd veterans foresaw infinite peril in the mazes of vom 
 verdant labyrinth. The master of Santiago, as he led his 
 troops into die centre of the gardens, exhorted them to keep 
 by one another, and to press forward, in defiance of all difi- 
 colty or danger ; assurmg them, that God would give them 
 the victory, if they attacked hardily and persisted resolute^. 
 
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 254 
 
 TlIK COXQTTEST OF CttANADA. 
 
 fc| 
 
 Scarcely had they entered the verjje «)f the orchards, when 
 a din of drums and trumpets, mingled with war cries, were 
 heard from the suburhs, and a legion of Moorish warriors on 
 foot poured forth. They wore led on by the Prince Cidi 
 Yahye. He saw the imminent danger of the city, should the 
 Christiana gain possession of the orchards. '* Soldiers," he 
 cried, "we fight for life and liberty, for our families, our 
 country, our religion* : nothing is left for us to depend upon 
 but the strength of our hands, the courage of our hearts, and 
 the almirVity protection of Allah !" The Moors answered 
 him with tiiouts of war, and rushed to the encounter. The 
 two hosts met in the middle of the gardens. A chance medley 
 combat ensued, with lances, arquebuses, cross-bows, and 
 cimetei'8. The per|>lexed nature of the ground, cut up and 
 intersected by canals and streams, the closeness of the trees, 
 the multiplicity of towers and petty edifices, gave greater 
 advantages to the Moors, who were on foot, than to the 
 Christians, who were on horseback. The Moors, too, knew 
 the groimd, all its alleys and passes, and were thus enabled 
 to lurk, to sally forth, to attack and retreat, almost without 
 injury. 
 
 The Christian commanders, seeing this, ordered many of 
 the horsemen to dismount, and fight on foot. The battle 
 then became fi .tcc and deadly, each disregarding his own 
 life, provided he could slay his enemy. It was not so much 
 a general battle, as a multitude of petty actions ; for every 
 orchard and garden had its distinct contest. No one could 
 see farther than the little scene of fuiy and bloodshed around 
 him, or knew how the general battle iared. In vain the cap- 
 tains exerted their voices ; in vain the trumpets brayed forth 
 signals and commands : all was confounded and unheard in 
 the universal din and uproar ; no one kept to his standard, 
 but fought as his own fury or fear dictated. 
 
 1 1 some places the Christians had the advantage, in others 
 the Moors. Often a victorious party, pursuing the van- 
 quished, came upon a superior ana triumphant force of the 
 enemy, and the fugitives turned back upon them in an over- 
 whelming wave. Some broken remnants, in their terror and 
 confusion, fled from their own countrymen, and sought refuge 
 among their enemies, not knowing friend from foe in the 
 
 * " lUi [Mauri] pro fortuniH, pro libertate, pro laribui patriciii, pro 
 viUl deniquo cortaUnt."— Petri Martyr. Epiat. 70. 
 
 M'oun 
 buth 
 
BATTLE OF THE GAIinENS BEFORE B.VZA. 255 
 
 obscurity of t^^-o groves. The Moors were more adroit in 
 these wild skirmishes, from their flexibility, li«»htness, and 
 agility, and the rapidity with which they would disperse, 
 rally, and return again to the charge.* 
 
 The hardest fighting was about the small garden towers 
 xind pavilions, which served as so many petty fortresses. 
 Each party by turns gained them, defended them fiercely, 
 and were driven out. Many of the towers were set on fire, 
 and increased the hoirors of the fight, by the wreaths oi 
 smoke and flame in which they ^vrappcd the groves, and by 
 the shrieks of those who were burning. 
 
 Several of the Christian cavaliers, bewildered by the uproar 
 and confusion, and shocked at the carnage which prevailed, 
 would have led their men out of the action ; but they 
 were entangled in a labyrinth, and knew not which way to 
 retreat. While in this perplexity, the standtird-bearcr of one 
 of the squadrons of the grand cardinal had his arm carried off 
 by a cannon ball : the standard was well nigh falling into the 
 hands of the enemy, when llodrigo de Mendoza, an intrepid 
 youth, natural son of the grand cardinal, rushed to its rescue, 
 through a shower of balls, lances, and arrows ; and, bearing 
 it aloft, dashed forward with it into the hottest of the com- 
 bat, followed by his shouting soldiers. King Ferdinand, who 
 remained in the skirts of the orchard, was in extreme anxiety. 
 It was impossible to see much of the action, for the midti- 
 plicity of trees, and towers, and wreaths of smoke ; and those 
 who were driven out defeated, or came out wounded and 
 exhausted, gave different accounts, according to the fate of 
 the partial conflicts in which they hna been engaged. Ferdi- 
 nand exerted himself to the utmost, to animate and encourage 
 his troops to this blind encounter, sending reinforcements of 
 horse and foot to those points where the battle was more san- 
 guinary and doubtful. Among those that were brought forth 
 mortally nounded was Don Juan de Lara, a yo\ith of un- 
 common merit, greatly prized by the king, beloved by tho 
 army, and recently married to Donna Catalina do Urrea, a 
 young lady of distinguished beauty.f They laid him at the 
 foot of a tree, and endeavoured to stuimeh and bind up his 
 wounds with a scarf which his bride had wrought for him : 
 but his life blood flowed too profusely ; and w liile a holy friar 
 
 * Mariana, lib. xxv. cap. 1^. 
 t Mariana. V. Martjr. Zurita. 
 
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' J*»u*» •*■*#*••*■ ^ 
 
 ■4t««« »W»A1MW 
 
 956 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF ORAKADA. 
 
 was yet administering to him the lost sacred offices of the 
 church, he expired, almost at the feet of his sovereign. 
 
 On the other hand, the veteran alcayde, Mohammed ben 
 Hassan, surrounded by a little band of chieftains, kept an 
 anxious eye upon the scene of combat, from the walls of the 
 city. For nearly twelve hours the battle had raged without 
 intermission. The thichncss of the foliage hid all the parti- 
 culars from their sight ; but they could sec the flash of 
 swords, and glance of helmets, among the trees. Columns of 
 smoke rose in every direction, while the clash of arms, the 
 thundering of ribadoquines and arquebuses, the shouts and 
 cries of the combatants, and the groans and supplications of 
 the wounded, bespoke the deadly conflict, that was waging in 
 the bosom of the groves. They were harassed too by the 
 shrieks and lamentations of the Moorish women and chil- 
 dren, as their wounded relatives were brought bleeding from 
 the scene of action, and were stunned by a general outcry of 
 woe, on the part of t}u> combatants, as the body of Rcdoun 
 Zalfarga, a renegade Christian, and one of the bravest of their 
 generals, was borne breathless into the city. 
 
 At length the din of battle aproached nearer to the skirts 
 of the orchards. They beheld their warriors driven out from 
 among the groves by fresh squadrons of the enemy ; and, 
 after disputing the ground inch by inch, obliged to retire to a 
 
 Slace between the orchards and the suburbs, which was forti- 
 ed with palisadoes. 
 The Christiaas immediately planted opposing palisa- 
 does, and established strong outposts near to the retreat 
 of Uie Moors ; while, at the same time, King Ferdinand 
 ordered that his encampment should be pitched withir .he 
 hard won orchards. 
 
 Mohammed ben Hassan sallied forth to the aid of the 
 Prince Cidi Yahye, and made a desperate attempt to dislodge 
 the enemy from this formidable position ; but the night had 
 closed, and the darkness rendered it impossible to make any 
 impression. The Moors, however, kept up constant assaulto 
 and alarms throughout the night, and the weary Christians, 
 exhausted by the toils and sufferings of the day, were not 
 allowed a moment of repose.* 
 
 * Palgajr, part iii. csp. 106. 107. Cura d« lot Palsclos, cap. 92. 
 Zorita, lib. xx. cap. 81. 
 
 
SIEGE OF BAZA. 
 
 257 
 
 .he 
 
 CHAPTER LXXI. 
 
 The morning sun rose upon a piteous scene before the 
 walls of Baza. The Christian outposts, harrassed throughout 
 the night, were pale and haggard ; while the multitude of 
 slain which lay before their palisadoes showed the fierce 
 attacks they had sustained, and the bravery of their 
 defence. 
 
 Beyond them lay the groves and gardens of Bnza, once 
 the favourite resorts for recreation and delight, now a scene 
 of horror and desolation. The towers and pavilions were 
 smoking ruins ; the canals and watercourses were discoloured 
 with blood, and choked with the bodies of the slain. Here 
 and there the ground, deep dinted with the tramp of man and 
 steed, and plashed and slippery with gore, showed where there 
 had been some fierce and mortal conflict ; while the bodies of 
 Moors and Christians, ghastly in death, lay half concealed 
 among the matted and trampled shrubs, and flowers, and 
 herbage. 
 
 Amidst the sanguinary scenes arose the Christian tents, 
 which had been hastilv pitched among the gardens in the 
 preceding evening. The experience of the night, however, 
 and the forlorn aspect of everything in the morning, con- 
 yinced King P'erdinanu of the perils and hardships to which 
 his camp mast be exposed in its present situation ; and, after 
 a consultation with his principal cavaliers, he resolved to 
 abandon the orchards. 
 
 It was a dangerous movement to extricate his army from so 
 entangled a situation in the face of so alert and daring an 
 enemy. A bold front was, therefore, kept up towards the 
 city. Additional troops were ordered to the advanced posts, 
 and works begun, as if for a settled encampment. Not a tent 
 was struck in the gardens, but in t' ; meu me the most 
 active and unremitti.ig exertions were made to remuve hack 
 all the baggage and furniture of the camp to the original 
 station. 
 
 All day the Moors beheld a formidable show of war main- 
 tained in front of tho gardens, while in the rear, the tops of 
 the Christian tents, and the pennons of the different com- 
 manders, were seen ri'ipg' above the groves. Suddenly, 
 towards evening, the tents sunk and disappeared : the outposts 
 broke up their stations and withdrew ; and the whole 
 
 1 :i 
 
 ' !* 
 
 I ' 
 
i.3teK 
 
 258 
 
 THE CONQUEST OP GBAKA'i)A. 
 
 shadow of au encampment was fast vanishing from their 
 eyes. 
 
 The Moor saw, too late, the subtle manoeuvre of King Ferdi- 
 nand. Cidi Yahye ogain sallied forth, with a large force of horse 
 and foot, and pressed furiously upon the Christians. The latter, 
 however, experienced in Moorish attack, retired in close 
 order ; sometimes turning upon the enemy, and driving them 
 to their barricadoes, and then pursuing their retreat. In thia 
 way the army was extricated, without much further loss, from 
 the perilous labyrinth of the gardens. The camp was now 
 out of danger, but it was, also, too distant from the city to do 
 mischief, while the Moors could sally forth and return without 
 hinderance. The king called a council of war, to consider in 
 what manner to proceed. The Marquis of Cadiz was for 
 abandoning the siege for the present ; the place being too 
 strong, too well garrisoned and provided, and too extensive, to 
 be either carried by assault, and reduced by famine, or 
 invested by their limited forces; while, in lingering before it, 
 the army would be exposed to the usual maladies and suffer- 
 ings of besieging enemies ; and, when the rainy season came 
 on, would be shut up by the swelling of the two rivers. He 
 recommended, instead, that the king should throw garrisons 
 of horse and foot into all the towns captured in the neigh- 
 bourhood, and leave them to keep up a predatory war upon 
 Baza, while he should overrun and ravage all the country ; so 
 that, in the following year, Almeria and Guadix, having all 
 their subject towns and tenitories taken from them, might be 
 starved into submission. 
 
 Don Gutiere de Carnedns, senior commander of Lara, on 
 the other hand, maintained that to abandon the siege would 
 be construed by the enemy into a sign of weakness and irre- 
 solution. It would give new spirits to the partisans of El 
 Zagnl, and would gain to his standard many of the wavering 
 subjects of Boabdil, if it did not encourage the fickle populace 
 of Granada to open rebellion. lie advised, therefore, that 
 the siege should be prosecuted with vigour. 
 
 The pride of Ferdinand pleaded in favour of the last 
 opinion, for it would be doubly humiliating again to return 
 from a campaign in this part of the Moorish kingdom without 
 striking a blow. But when he reflected on all that his array 
 had suffered, and on all that they must still suffer should tho 
 siege continue, especially fiom the difficulty of obtaining u 
 
SIEGE OF BAZA. 
 
 259 
 
 re^lar fmpply of provisions for so numerous a host across a 
 great extent of rugged and mountainous coimtry, he deter- 
 mined to consult the safety of his people, and to adopt the 
 advice of the Marquis of Cadiz. 
 
 When the soldiery heard that the king was about to raise 
 the siege, in mere consideration for their sufferings, they were 
 filled with generous enthusiasm, and entreated, as with one 
 voice, that the siege might never be abandoned until the city 
 surrendered. 
 
 Perplexed by conflicting coimcils, the king despatched 
 messengers to the queen, at Jaen, requesting her advice. 
 Posts had been stationed between them in such manner that 
 missives from the camp could reach the queen within ten 
 hours. Isabella sent instantly her reply. She left the policy 
 of raising or continuing the siege to the decision of the king 
 and his captains ; but, should they determine to persevere, 
 she pledged herself, with the aid of God. to forward tliera 
 men, money, provisions, and all other supplies, until the city 
 should be taken. 
 
 The reply of the queen determined Ferdinand to persevere ; 
 and when his detennination wae made known to the army, it 
 was hailed with as much joy as if it had been tidings of a 
 victory. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXII. 
 
 The Moorish prince, Cidi Yahye, had received intelligence of 
 the doubts and discussions in the Christian camp, and flattered 
 himself with hopes that the besieging army would soon retire 
 in despair, though the veteran aleayde, Mohammed, shook his 
 head with incredulity at the suggestion. A sudden movement 
 next morning ir the Christian camp seemed to confirm the 
 sanguine hopes of the prince. The tents were struck, the 
 artillery and baggage were c onveyed away, and bodies of soldiers 
 bega\i to march along tlie valley. The momentary gleam 
 of triumph was soon dispelled. The Catholic king had merely 
 divided his hoc^t into two camps, the more effectually to 
 distress the city. One, consisting of foor thousand horse and 
 eight thousand foot, with 1 1' luo artillery and battering engines, 
 took post on the side of tlu city towards the mountain. Tiiis 
 was commanded by the vuliunt Marquis of Cadiz, with whom 
 
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 . » •,„ Luis Fernandez Puerto C«rrero, 
 
 r'n!^; KuUulS^h^ -S' JW the «»g. baving «x 
 •"^e^her eamp was «'»"»'''ff K soldier, the hardy 
 
 Munder, on °PP??'^ "* Vorehards: Both ^"P*/^: 
 
 SiteT:s5f^3?oC^-^rS 
 
 ^{ between th^l, ^\^^ christian -Xd^^^t' Xund 
 
 tinuance. ^,c'^'^^,'i^ -^i. garrison were startlea oy w 
 
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 S innumerable axes, and ^»^ r", ^^^ggt towers, and beboW, 
 ^ookTd with anxiety from ^^^^. ^^^Jeneatb tbe blows of the 
 Efavourite groves -- -^-gj^^, fo,,^ with ^y^ 
 
 S^--SoJ^^ 
 
 ♦Vo mirdens became the scene « eroves went on, lor 
 
SIEGE OF BAZA. 
 
 Ml 
 
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 ; and such 
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 its beautiftil 
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 it on slowly 
 
 and surely, with almost incredible labours, to invest and 
 isolate the city. They connected their camps by a deep 
 trench across the plain, a league in length, into which they 
 diverted the waters of the mountain streams. They protected 
 this trench by palisadoes, fortified by fifteen castles, at regular 
 distances. They dug a deep trench al8o, two leagues in 
 length, across the mountain, in the rear of the city, reaching 
 from camp to camp, and fortified it on each side with walls of 
 earth and stone, and wood. Thus the Moors were enclosed on all 
 sides by trenches, palisadoes, walls, and castles ; so that it was 
 impossible for them to sally beyond this great line of circum- 
 vallation, nor could any force enter to their smmnir. Fer- 
 dinand made an attempt likewise to cut off the siipjdy of 
 water from the city; "for water," observes the worthy 
 Agapida, "is more necessary to these infidels than bread; as 
 they make use of it in repeated daily ablutions, enjoined by 
 their damnable religion, and employ it in baths, and in a 
 thousand other idle and extravagant modes, of which we 
 Spaniards and Christians make but little account." 
 
 There was a noble fountain of pure water, which gushed 
 out at the foot of the hill Albohacin, just behind the city. 
 The Moors had almost a superstitious fondness for this foun- 
 tain, and daily depended upon it for their supplies. Receiving 
 intimation from some deserters of the plan of King Ferdinand 
 to get possession of this precious fountain, they sallied forth 
 at night, and threw up such powerful works upon the im- 
 pending hill, as to set all attempts of the Christian assailants 
 at defiance. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXIII. 
 
 The siege of Baza, while it displayed the skill and science 
 of the Christian commanders, gave but little scojmj for the 
 adventurous spirit and fiery valour of the young Spanish 
 cavaliers. They repined at the tedious monotony and dull 
 security of their fortified camp; and longed for some soul- 
 stirring exploit of difficulty and danger. Two of the most 
 spirited of these youthful cavaliers were Francisco de Kazan 
 and Antonio de Cueva, the latter of whom was son to the 
 Duke of Albuquerque. As they were one day seated on the 
 ramparts of the camp, and ventinj? their impatience at this 
 life of inaction, they were overheuid by a vetwrau adolid, one 
 
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 i * 
 
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 m 
 
 3 
 
 111 
 
262 
 
 THE CONUUEST OF GHANADA. 
 
 of those scouts, or guides, who are acquainted with all parts 
 of the country. " Sefiorcs," said he, " if you wish for a 
 service of peril and profit; if you are willing to pluck the 
 fiery old Moor by the beard; I can lead you to where you 
 may put your mettle to the proof. Hard by the city of 
 Guadix are certain hamlets, rich in booty : I can conduct you 
 by a way in which you may come upon them by surprise; 
 and, if you are as cool in the head as you are hot in the spur, 
 you may bear off your spoils from under the very eyes of old 
 El Zagal." The idea of thus making booty at the very gates 
 of Guadix pleased the hot spirited youths. These predatory 
 excursions were frequent about this time ; and the Moors of 
 Padul, Alhenden, and other towns of the AlpuxaiTas, had 
 recently harassed the Christian territories by expeditions of 
 the kind. Francisco de Bazan and Antonio de Cueva soon 
 found other young cavaliers of their age ready to join them 
 in the adventure; and, in a little while, they had nearly three 
 hundred horse and two hundred foot, ready equipped, and 
 eager for the foray. 
 
 Keeping their destination secret, they sallied out of the 
 camp, on the edge of an evening, and, guided by their adalid, 
 made their way by starlight through the most secret roads of 
 the mountains. In this way they pressed on rapidly day and 
 night, until, early one morning before cock crowing, they fell 
 suddenly upon the hamlets, made prisoners of the inhabitants, 
 sacked the houses, ravaged the fields, and, sweeping through 
 the meadows, gathered together all the fiocks and herds. 
 Without giving themselves time to rest, they set out upon 
 their return, making with all speed lor the mountains, before 
 the alarm should be given, and the country roused. 
 
 Several of the herdsmen, however, had fled to Guadix, and 
 carried tidings of the ravage to El Zagal. The beard of old 
 Muley trembled with rage. He immediately sent out six 
 hundred of his choicest horse and foot, with orders to recover 
 the booty, and to bring those insolent maraudcs captive to 
 Gaudix. 
 
 The Christian cavaliers were urging their cavalgada of 
 cattle and sheep up a mountain as fast as their own weariness 
 would permit; when, looking back, they beheld a great cloud 
 of dust, and presently descried the turbaned host hot upon 
 their traces. 
 They saw that the Moors were superior in number; they 
 
they 
 
 EXPLOIT OF HEBNANDO PEREZ DEL PULOAB. 263 
 
 •were fresh also, both man and steed : whereas both they and 
 their horses were fatigued by two days and two nights of 
 hard marching. Several of the horsemen, therefore, gathered 
 round the commanders, and proposed that they should relin- 
 quish theu' spoil, and save themselves by flight. The captains, 
 Francisco de Bazan and Antonio de Cueva spumed at such 
 craven counsel. "What!" cried they, "abandon our prey 
 without striking a blow ! Leave our foot soldiers, too, in the 
 lurch, to be overwhelmed by the enemy? If any one gives 
 such coimsel through fear, he mistakes the course of safety; 
 for there is less danger in presenting a bold front to the foe, 
 than in turning a dastard back ; and fewer men are killed in 
 a brave advance than in a cowardly retreat." 
 
 Some of the cavaliers were touched by these veords, and 
 declared that they woidd stand by the foot soldiers, like true 
 companions in arms. The great mass of the party, however, 
 were volunteers, brought together by chance, who received 
 no pay, nor had any common tie, to keep them together in 
 time of danger. The pleasure of the expedition being over, 
 each thought but of his own safety, regardless of his com- 
 panions. As the enemy approached, the tumult of opinions 
 incieased; and everything was confusion. The captains, to 
 put an end to the dispute, ordered the standard-bearer to ad- 
 vance against the Moors; well knowing that no true cavalier 
 would hesitate to follow and defend his banner. The standard, 
 bearer hesitated; the troops were on the point of taking to 
 flight. Upon this, a cavalier of the royal guards, named 
 HeiTiando Perez del Pulgar, alcayde of the fortress of Salar, 
 rode to the front. He took off a handkerchief which he wore 
 round his head, after the Andalusian fashion, and tying it to 
 the end of his lance, elevated it in the air. " Cavaliers," 
 cried he, " why do you take weapons in your hands, if you 
 depend upon your feet for safety? This day will determine 
 who is the brave man and who the coward. He who is 
 disposed to fight shall not want a standard; let him follow 
 this handkerchief!" So saying, he waved his banner, and 
 spurred bravely against the Moors. His example shamed 
 some, and filled others with generous emulation. All turned 
 with one accord, and, following the valiant Pulgar, rushed 
 with shouts upon the enemy. 
 
 ITie Moors scarcely waited to receive the shock of their 
 encounter. Seized with a sudden panic, they took to flight. 
 
 ill ^ 
 
 I 9 
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 i:-'. 
 
 
 Si 
 
 k 
 
•mm^ 
 
 264 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF ORAKADA. 
 
 and were pursued for a great distance, with great slaughter. 
 Three hundred of their dead strewed the road, and were 
 stripped and despoiled by the conquerors ; many were taken 
 prisoners; and the Christian cavaliers returned in triumph 
 to the camp, with a long cavalcade of sheep and cattle, and 
 mules laden with booty, and bearing before them the singular 
 standard which had conducted them to victory. 
 
 When King Ferdinand was informed of the gallant action 
 of Hernando Perez del Pulgar, he immediately conferred on 
 him the honour of knighthood ; and ordered that, in memory 
 of his achievements, he should bear for arms a lance with a 
 handkerchief, together with a castle and twelve lions. This 
 is but one of many hardy and heroic deeds done by that brave 
 cavalier, in the wars against the Moors; by which he gained 
 great renown, and the distin^ished appellation of " £1 de las 
 hazanas," or, "he of the exploits."* 
 
 CHAPTER LXXIV. 
 
 Thk old Moorish king. El Zagal, mounted a tower, and 
 looked out eagerly, to enjoy the sight of the Christian 
 marauders brought captive into the gates of Baza; but his 
 spirits fell when he beheld his own troops stealing back in 
 the dusk of the evening, in broken dejected parties. 
 
 The fortune of war bore hard against ^e old monarch. 
 His mind was harassed by the disastrous tidings brought each 
 day from Baza, of the sufferings of the inhabitants, and the 
 numbers of the garrison slain in the frequent skirmishes. 
 He dared not go in person to the relief of the place, for his 
 presence was necessary in Guadix, to keep a check upon his 
 nephew in Granada. He made efforts to send reinforcements 
 and supplies ; but they were intercepted, and either captured 
 or driven back. Still his situation was, in some respects, 
 preferable to that of his nephew Boabdil. The old monai'ch 
 was battling like a warrior on the last step of his throne. 
 £1 Chiquito remained, a kind of pensioned vassal, in the 
 iuxiu-ious abode of the Alhambra. The chivalrous part of the 
 inhabitants of Granada could not but compare the generous 
 
 * Hernando del Pulgnr, the historian, secretary to the Queen Isahells, 
 is confounded with this cavalier by some writers. He was also present 
 at the siege of Baza, and recounted this transaction in his Chronicle of 
 ^e Catholic Sovereigns, Ferdinand and Isabella. 
 
SIEGE OF BAZA. 
 
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 stand made by tbe warriors of Baza for their country and 
 tbeir faith, with their own time-serving submission to the 
 yoke of an unbeliever. Every account they received ot the 
 wars of Baza wrung their hearts with agony ; every account 
 of the exploits of its devoted defenders brought blushes to 
 their cheeks. Many stole forth secretly vrith their weapons, 
 and hastened to join the besieged; and the partisans of £1 
 Zagal wrought upon the patriotism and passions of tbe 
 remainder, until another of those conspiracies was formed, 
 that were continually menacing the unsteady throne of 
 Granada. It was concerted by the conspirators to assail the 
 Alhambra on a sudden, to slay Boabdil, to assemble all the 
 troops, and march to Guadix ; where, being reinforced by the 
 garrison of that place, and led on by the old warrior monarch, 
 they might fall, with overwhelming power, upon the Christian 
 army before Baza. 
 
 Fortunately for Boabdil, he discovered the conspiracy in 
 time, and had the heads of the leaders struck off, and placed 
 upon the walls of the Alhambra : an act of severity, unusual 
 with this mild and wavering monarch, which struck terror 
 into the disaffected, and produced a kind of mute tranquillity 
 throughout the city. 
 
 King Ferdinand had full information of all these move- 
 ments and measures for the relief of Baza, and took timely 
 precautions to prevent them. Bodies of horsemen held watd^ 
 in tbe mountain passes, to prevent all suppbes, and to inter- 
 cept any generous volunteers from Granada; and watch- 
 towers were erected, or scouts placed, on any commanding 
 height, to give the alarm, at the least sign of a hostile 
 turban. 
 
 Tbe Prince Cidi Yahye and bis brave companions in arms 
 were thus gradually walled up, as it were, from the rest of 
 the world. A line of towers, the battlements of which bristled 
 with troops, girdled their city; and behind the intervening 
 bulwarks and palisadoes passed and repassed continual bodies 
 of troops. Week after week, and month after month, glided 
 away; but Ferdinand waited in vain for the garrison to be 
 either terrified or starved into surrender. Every day they 
 sallied forth with the spirit and alacrity of troops high fed, 
 and flushed with confidence. " The Christian monarch," said 
 the veteran Mohammed ben Hassan, " builds his hopes upon 
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 366 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF ORAKADA. 
 
 cheerfulness and vigour. What would be rashness in other 
 service, becomes prudence with us." The Prince Cidi Yahye 
 agreed with him in opinion; nnd sallied forth, with his 
 troops, upon all kinds of hare-brained exploits, lliey laid 
 ambushes, concerted surprises, and made the most desperate 
 assaults, llie great extent of the Christian works rendered 
 them weak in many parts. Against these the Moors directed 
 their attucks ; suddenly breaking into them, making a hasty 
 ravage, and bearing off their booty, in triumph, to the city. 
 Sometimes they would sally forth, by the passes and clefts of 
 the mountain in the rear of the city, which it was difficult to 
 guard; and, hurr}'.ng down into the plain, would sweep off 
 all cattle and sheep that were grazing near the suburbs, and 
 all stragglers from the camp. 
 
 These partisan sallies brought on many sharp and bloody 
 encounters; in some of which, Don Alonzo de Aguilar and 
 the alcayde de los Donzeles distinguished themselves greatly. 
 During one of these hot skirmishes, which happened on the 
 skirts of the mountain about twilight, a valiant cavalier, 
 named Martin Oalindo, beheld a powerful Moor dealing 
 deadly blows about him, and making great havoc among the 
 Christians. Oalindo pressed forward, and challenged him to 
 single combat. The Moor, who was of the valiant tribe of 
 the Abencerrages, was not slow in answering the call. 
 Couching their lances, they rushed furiously upon each other. 
 At the nrst shock, the Moor was wounded in the face, and 
 borne out of his saddle. Before Galindo could check his 
 steed, and turn from his career, the Moor sprang upon his 
 feet, recovered his lance, and, rushing upon him, wounded 
 him in the head and the arm. Though Galindo was on 
 horseback, and the Moor on foot, yet such was the prowess 
 and address of the latter, that the Christian knight, being 
 disabled in the arm, was in the utmost peril, when his com- 
 HMles hastened to his assistance. At their approach, the 
 valiant pagan retreated slowly up the rocks, keeping them at 
 bay, until he found himself among his companions. 
 
 Several of the young Spanish cavaliers, stung by the 
 triumph of this Moslem knight, would have challenged others 
 of the Moon to single combat; but King Ferdinand pro- 
 hibited all vaunting encounters of the kind. He forbade his 
 troops, also, to provoke skirmishes; well knowing that tho 
 MoMV were more dexterous than most people in thui irre- 
 
i.tWifc'ljBMWIlPi 
 
 EMBASSADOBS FBOM THK OBAND SOLDAV. 
 
 267 
 
 gular mode of fighting, and were better acquainted with the 
 ground. 
 
 by the 
 pd others 
 
 and ptO" 
 rbadehit 
 that the 
 thii irrc- 
 
 CHAPTER LXXV. 
 
 "While the holy Christian army," says Fray Antonio 
 Agnpida, '* was thiu beleaguering this infidel city of Baza, 
 there rode into the camp, one day, two reverend friars of the 
 order of Saint Francis. One was of portly person, and au- 
 thoritative air. He bestrode a goodly steed, well conditioned, 
 and well caparisoned; while his companion rode behind him, 
 upon a humble hack, poorly accoutred; and, as he rode, ho 
 scarcely raised his eyes from the ground, but maintained a 
 meek and lowly air. 
 
 The arrival of two friars in the camp was not a matter of 
 much note ; for. in these holy wars, the church militant con- 
 tinually mingled in the affray, and helmet and cowl were 
 always seen together ; but it was soon discovered, that these 
 worthy saints errant were from a far country, and on a 
 mission of great import. They were, in truth, just arrived 
 from the Holy Land ; being two of tlic saintly men, who kept 
 vigil over the sepulchre of our blessed Lord at Jerusalem. 
 He, of the tall and portly form, and commanding presence, 
 was Fray Antonio Millau, prior of the Franciscan convent in 
 the Holy City. He had a full and florid countenance, a 
 sonorous voice, and was round, and swelling, and copious, in 
 his periods, like one accustomed to harangue, and to bo 
 listened to with deference. His companion was small and 
 spare in form, pale of visage, and soft, and silken, and almost 
 whispering in speech. '* He had a humble and lowly way,*' 
 says Agapida; "evermore bowing the head, as became one 
 of his calling. Yet ho was one of the most active, sealous, 
 and effective brothers of the convent; and, when he raised 
 his small black eye from the earth, there was a keen glance 
 out of the comer, which showed, that, though harmless as a 
 dove, he was, nevertheless, as wise as a serpent." 
 
 These holy men had come, on a momentous embossv, ttom 
 the Qrond Soldon of Egypt; or, as Agapida terms him, in 
 the langtuge of the day, the Soldan of Babylon. The league, 
 which hod been made between that potentate and his aroh 
 foe, the Grand Turk, Bajaxet H., to unite in arms for the 
 salvation of Orouada, as has been mentioned in a previouB 
 
 sa 
 
'''t'^f''iK''0>'<m>f'!immitimii*K'*0t 
 
 268 
 
 THE C0KQUE8T OF OSAKADA. 
 
 chapter of this chronicle, had come to nought. The infidel 
 princes had again taken up arras against each other, and had 
 relapsed into their ancient hostility. Still the Grand Soldan, 
 as head of the whole Moslem sect, considered himself bound 
 to preserve the kingdom of Granada from the grasp of 
 unbelievers. He despatched, therefore, these two holy friars, 
 with letters to the Castilian sovereigns, as well as to the pope, 
 and to the King of Naples, remonstrating against the evils 
 done to the Moors of the kingdom of Granada, who were of 
 his faith and kindred: whereas, it was well known, that great 
 numbers of Christians were indulged and protected in the 
 fVdl enjoyment of their property, their liberty, and their faith, 
 in his dominions. He msisted, therefore, that this war should 
 cease ; that the Moors of Granada should be reinstated in the 
 territory of which they had been dispossessed : otherwise, he 
 threatened to put to death all the Christians beneath his 
 sway, to demolish their convents and temples, and to destroy 
 the Holy Sepulchre. 
 
 This fearful menace had spread consternation among the 
 Christians of Palestine ; and when the intrepid Fray Antonio 
 Millan and his lowly companion departed on their mission, 
 they were accompanied far from the gates of Jerusalem by 
 an anxious throng of brethren and disciples, who remained 
 watchinff them with tearful eyes, as they journeyed over the 
 plains of Judea. 
 
 These holy ambassadors were received with great distinc- 
 tion by King Ferdinand; for men of their cloth had ever 
 high honoiir and consideration in his court. He had long 
 and frequent conversations with them, about the Holy Land; 
 the state of the Christian church in the dominions of the 
 Ghnind Soldan, and of the policy and conduct of that arch 
 infidel towards it. The portly prior of the Franciscan convent 
 was fUl, and round, and oratorical in his replies, and the 
 king expressed himself much pleased with the eloquence of 
 his periods: but the politic monarch was observed to lend a 
 close and attentive ear to the whispering voice of the IowIt 
 eompamon; "whose discourse," adds Agapida, ''though 
 modest and low, was clear and fluent, and f\dl of lubtte 
 wisdom." 
 
 These holy friars had visited Rome in their ymmeying, 
 where they had delivered the letter of the Soldan to the 
 •orereign pontiff. His holiness had written by them to the 
 
IKTEBYEKTION OF THX KINO OF NAPLES. 
 
 369 
 
 Cattilian sovereigiu, requesting to know what reply they had 
 to offer to this demand of the oriental potentate. 
 
 The King of Naples also wrote to them on the subject, but 
 in wary terms. He inquired into the course of this war 
 with the Moors of Granada, and expressed great marvel at 
 its events; " as if," says Agapida, ** both were not notorious 
 throughout all the Christian world. Nay," adds the worthy 
 firiar, with becoming indignation* "he uttered opinions 8a« 
 Touring of little better than damnable heresy; for he observed 
 that although the Moors were of a different sect, they ought 
 not to be maltreated without just cause; and hinted, that, 
 if the Castilian sovereigns did not suffer any crying iniurr 
 firom the Moors, it would be improper to do anything which 
 might draw great damage upon the Christians: as if, when 
 once the swcurd of the faith was drawn, it ought ever to be 
 •heathed, until this scum of heathendom were utterly de- 
 stroyed, or driven from the land. But this monarch," he 
 continues, " was more kindly disposed towards the infidela, 
 than was honest and lawful in a Christian prince, and was at 
 that very time in lecjue with the Soldan, against their 
 common enemy, the Grand Turk." 
 
 These pious sentiments of the truly Catholic Agapida are 
 echoed by Padre Mariana, in his history;* but the worthy 
 chronicler, Pedro Abarca, attributes the interference of the 
 King of Naples, not to lack of orthodoxy in religion, but to 
 an excess of worldly policy ; he being apprehensive, that, 
 •hould Ferdinand conquer the Moors of Granada, he might 
 have time and means to assert a claim of the house of Arragon 
 to the crown of Naples. 
 
 ** King Ferdinand," continues the worthy father Pedro 
 Abarca, " was no less master of dissimulation than hii 
 cousin of Naples; so he replied to him with the utmoet 
 euavity of manner ; going into a minute and patient vindioa* 
 tion of the war, and taking great apparent pains to inform 
 him of those things, which aU the world knew, but of whioh 
 the other pretended to be ignorant/'f At the same time, he 
 aoothed his solicitude about the fate of the Christians in the 
 empire of the Grand Soldan ; assuring him, that the great 
 revenue extorted from them in rents and tributes, would be a 
 certain protection against the threatened violence. 
 
 * Mariana, lib. xxv. cap. 15. 
 t Abarca, Anales de Angon, rejr. xxx. c^. S. 
 
 I'KI 
 
 
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 270 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBANADA. 
 
 To the pope, he made the usual vindication of the war ; 
 that it was for the recovery of ancient territory usurped by 
 the Moors, for the punishment of wars and violences in- 
 flicted upon the Christians; and, finally, that it was a 
 holy crusade, for the f^lory and advancement of the church. 
 
 *' It was a truly cdifyinfj; sij^fht," says Agapida, " to behold 
 these friars, after they hod had their audience of the king, 
 moving about the camp, always surrounded by nobles and 
 cavaliers of high and martial renown ; these were insatiable 
 in their questions about the Holy Land, the state of the se- 
 pulchre of our Lord, and the sufferings of the devoted bre- 
 thren who guarded it, and the pious pilgrims who resorted 
 there to pay their vows. The portly prior of the convent 
 would stand, with lofty and shining countenance, in the 
 midst of these iron warriors, and declaim with resoimding 
 eloquence on the history of the sepulchre ; but the himible' 
 brother would ever and anon sigh deeply, and, in low tones, 
 utter some tale of sufferings and outrage, at which his steel 
 clad hearers would grasp the hilts of their swords, and mutter 
 between their clenched teeth prayers for another crusade." 
 
 The pious friars, having finished their mission to the king, 
 and been treated with all due distinction, took their leave, 
 and wended their way to Jaen, to visit the most Catholic of 
 queens. Isabella, whose heart was the seat of piety, re- 
 ceived them as sacred men, invested with more than human 
 dignity. During their residence at Jaen, they were continu- 
 ally in the royal presence ; the respectable prior of the con- 
 vent moved and melted the ladies of the court by his florid 
 rhetoric ; but his lowly companion was observed to have con- 
 tinual access to the royal ear. " That saintly and soft spoken 
 messenger," says Agapida, " received the reward of his hu- 
 mility; for the queen, moved by his frequent representations, 
 made in all modesty and lowliness of spirit, granted a yearly 
 sum in perpetuity of one thousand ducats in gold for the 
 support of the monks of the convents of the Holy Se- 
 pulchre." ♦ 
 
 Moreover, on the departure of these holy ambassadors, the 
 
 * L» Reyna di6 4 los frailes mil ducados de rente corda sflo, para el 
 ■iMtento de Im religioaoa del Santo Sepulcro, que ei la m^or himosna j 
 ■uateuto que haite nuestroe diaa haquedado £ eitoa religiosoa de Jeru- 
 salem : para donde lei dl6 la reyna un yelo labndo por ins manos, para 
 Coner encima de la lante sepultura del Seftor. Qaribay, Comp. Hist.» 
 b. xviU. cap. 30. 
 
i^mmmmmmmt 
 
 MODE OF SVPPLTINO THE ABMT. 
 
 271 
 
 excellent and most Catholic queen delivered to them a veil 
 devoutly embroidered with her own royal hands, to be placed 
 over the Holy SepiUchre. A precious and inestimable pre- 
 sent, which called forth a most eloquent tribute of thanks 
 from the portly prior, but which brought tears into the eyes of 
 his lowly companion.* 
 
 CHAPTER LXXVI. 
 
 It has been the custom to laud the conduct and address of 
 King Ferdinand in this most arduous and protracted war ; 
 but the sage Agapida is more disposed to give credit to the 
 councils and measures of the queen, who, he observes, though 
 less ostensible in action, was in truth the very soul, the vital 
 principle, of this great enterprise. While King Ferdinand 
 was bustling in his camp, and making a glittering display 
 with his gallant chivalry; she, surrounded by her saintly 
 counsellors, in the episcopal palace of Jaen, was devising 
 ways and means to keep the king and his army in existence. 
 She had pledged herse^ to provide a supply of men, and 
 money, and provisions, until the city shoidd be taken ; thti 
 hardships of the siege caused a fearful waste of life ; but the 
 supply of men was the least' difficult part of her undertaking. 
 So beloved was the queen by the chivalry of Spain, that on 
 her calling on them for assistance, not a grandee or cavalier, 
 that yet lingered at home, but cither repaired in person or 
 sent forces to the camp; the ancient and warlike families 
 vied with each other, in marshalling forth their vassals ; and 
 thus the besieged Moors beheld each day fresh troops arriving 
 before their city, and new ensigns and pennons displayed, 
 emblozoned with arms well known to the veteran warriors. 
 
 * It is proper to mention the result of this misoioa of the two friara, 
 •nd which the worthy Agapida has neglected to record. At a sahw* 
 
 Joent period, the Catholic Bovereigns nent the distinguished historian, 
 'ietro Martyr of Angleria, as ambassador to the Grand Soldan. That 
 able man made such representations as were perfectly satisfactory to the 
 Oriental potentate. He also obtained from him the romiasion of many 
 exactions and extortions heretofore practised upon Christian pilgrims 
 visiting the Holy Sepulchre, which, it is presumed, had been gently but 
 cogently detailed to the monarch by the lowly friar. Pietro Martyr 
 wrote an aecount of his embassy to the Grand Soldan ; a work greatly 
 esteemed by the learned, and conUdnlng much curious information. It 
 is entiUed " De Legatione BabilonicfU" 
 
 
 4- 
 
 I 
 
 im 
 
 }■'! 
 
273 
 
 ZU£ C0NQUZ8X OF OBANADA. 
 
 But the most arduous task was to keep up a r^;ular 
 supply of provisions. It was not the army alone that had 
 to be supported, but also the captured towns and their 
 garrisons; for the whole country around them had been 
 layaged, and the conquerors were in danger of starring in 
 the midst of the land they had desolated. To transport what 
 was daily required for such immense numbers was a gigantic 
 imdertaking, in a country where there was neither water 
 conveyance, nor roads for carriages. Everything had to be 
 borne by beasts of burden, over rugged and broken paths of 
 the mountains, and through dangeroxis defiles, exposed to the 
 attacks and plunderings of the Moors. 
 
 Ihe wary and calculating merchants, accustomed to supply 
 the army, shrunk from engaging, at their own risk, in so 
 hazardous an undertaking. The queen, therefore, hired 
 fourteen thousand beasts of burden, and ordered all the 
 wheat and barley to be bought up in Andalusia, and in the 
 domains of the luiights of Santiago and Calatrava. She dis- 
 tributed the administration of these supplies among able and 
 confidential persons. Some were employed to collect the 
 erain, ^others to take it to the mills, others to superintend 
 ue grinding and delivery, and others to convey it to the 
 camp. To every two hundred animals a muleteer was allotted, 
 to take charge of them on the route. Thus great lines of 
 convoys were in constant movement, traversing the mountains 
 to and fro, guarded by large bodies of troops, to defend them 
 from hovering parties of the Moors. Not a single day's 
 intermission was allowed ; for the army depended upon the 
 constant arrival of these supplies for daily food. The grain, 
 when brought into the camp, was deposited in an inuuense 
 granary, and sold to the army at a fixed price, which was never 
 either raised or lowered. 
 
 Incredible were the expenses incurred in this business; but 
 the queen had ghostly aavisers, thoroughly versed in the art 
 of getting at uie resources of the country. Many worthy 
 prelates opened the deep purses of the church, and furnished 
 loans from the revenues of their dioceses and convents ; and 
 their pious contributions were eventually rewarded by Pn>- 
 ▼idence a hundred fold. Merchants and other wealthy indi- 
 Tiduals, confident of the punctual faith of the queen, advanced 
 laige sums on the security of her word : many noble families 
 lent their plate without waiting to be asked. The queen, 
 
1C0D£ OF BVFTLYIHQ IBS ABMT. 
 
 279 
 
 alao, sold certain annual rents in inheritance, at great sacri- 
 fices, assigning the revenues of towns and cities for the 
 pajrment. Finding all this insufficient to wtisfy the enor- 
 mous expenditure, she sent her gold and phite, and all 
 her jewels, to tbe cities of Valencia and Barcelona, where 
 they were pledged for a great amount of money ; which was 
 immediately appropriated to keep up the supplies of the 
 army. 
 
 Thus, through the wonderful activity, judgment, and en^ 
 terprise of this heroic and magnanimous woman, a great host, 
 encamped in the heart of a warlike country, accessible only 
 over mountain roads, was maintained in continual abundance: 
 nor was it supplied merely with the necessaries and comforts 
 of life. The powerful escorts drew merchants and artificer! 
 finm all parts, to repair, as if in caravans, to this great 
 military market. In a little while the camp abounded with 
 tradesmen and artists of all kinds, to administer to the luxury 
 and ostentation of the youthful chivalry. Here might be 
 Been cimning artificers in steel, and accomplished armourers, 
 achieving those rare and sumptuous helmets and cuirasses 
 riohly guilt, inlaid, and embossed, in which the Spanish 
 oavaUers delighted; saddlers and harness-makers, and horse- 
 milliners also, whose tents glittered with gorgeous housings 
 and caparisons. The merchants spread fordi their sumptuous 
 silks, cloths, brocades, fine linen, and tapestry. The te: < ' ^ of 
 the nobility were prodigally decorated with all kinds of I 'le 
 richest stuffs, and dazzl€^d the eye with their magnificence : 
 nor could the grave looks and grave speeches of I^ng Ferdi- 
 nand prevent his youthful cavaliers from vyeing with each 
 other in the splendour of their dresses and caparisone, on all 
 occasions of parade and ceremony. 
 
 queen, 
 
 CHAPTER LXXVII. 
 
 While the Christian camp, thus gay and gorgeous, spread 
 itself out like a holiday pageant before the walls of Baza; while 
 a long line of beasts of burden, laden with provisions and 
 luxuries, were seen descending the valley from morning till 
 night, and pouring into the camp a continued stream of 
 •Imndance, the unfortunate garrison found their resources 
 rapidly wasting away, and famine already began to pinch tkt 
 peaceful part of tbe communi^. 
 
374 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBANADA. 
 
 Cidi Yahye bad acted with great spirit and valour, as long 
 as there was any prospect of success ; but he began to lose 
 his usual fire and animation, and was observed to pace the 
 walls of Baza with a pensive air, casting many a wistful look 
 towards the Christian camp, and sinking into profound re- 
 veries and cogitations, llie veteran (dcayde, Mohammed 
 Ben Hassen, noticed these desponding moods, and endea- 
 voured to rally the spirits of the prince. " The rainy season 
 is at hand," would he cry : " the floods will soon pour down 
 from the mountains ; the rivers will overflow their banks, and 
 inundate the valleys. The Christian king already begins to 
 waver ; he dare not linger, and encounter such a season, in a 
 plain cut up by canals and rivulets. A single wintry storm 
 from our mountains would wash away his canvas city, and 
 sweep off those gay pavilions, like wreaths of snow before 
 the blast. 
 
 The Prince Cidi Yahye took heart at these words, and 
 counted the days as they passed, until the stormy season 
 should commence. As he watched the Christian camp, he 
 beheld it one morning in universal commotion. There was 
 an unusual sound of hammers in every part, as if some new 
 engines of war were constructing. At length, to his astonish- 
 ment, the walls and roofs of houses began to appear above 
 the bulwarks. In a little while there were above a thousand 
 edifices of wood and plaster erected, covered with tiles, taken 
 from the demolished towers of the orchards, and bearing the 
 pennons of various commanders and cavaliers ; while the 
 common soldiery constructed huts of clay and branches of 
 trees, and thatched them with straw. Thus, to the dismay 
 of the Moors, within four days the light tents and gay pa- 
 vilions, which had whitened their hills and plains, passed 
 away like summer clouds ; and the unsubstantial camp 
 assumed the solid appearance of a city laid out into streets 
 and squares. In the centre rose a large edifice, which over- 
 looked the whole, and the royal standard of Arragon and 
 Castile, proudly floating above it, showed it to be the palace 
 of the king.* 
 
 Ferdinand had taken the sudden resolution thus to turn his 
 camp into a city, partly to provide against the approaching 
 season, and partly to convince the Moors of his fixed deter- 
 mination to continue the siege. In their haste to erect their 
 * Cora de los PaUcios. Polgar, fto. 
 
UISASTEBS WHICH BEFEL THE CAMP. 
 
 275 
 
 dwellings, however, the Spanish cavaliers had not properly 
 Gonsidered the nature of the climate. For the greater part of 
 the year there scarcely falls a drop of rain on the thirsty soil 
 of Andalusia ; the rarahlas, or dry channels of the torrents, 
 remain deep and arid gashes and clefts in the sides of the 
 mountains. The perennial streams shrink up to mere threads 
 of water, which, tinkling down the bottoms of the deep bar- 
 rancas or ravines, scarcely feed and keep alive the rivers of 
 the valleys. The rivers, almost lost in their wide and naked 
 body, seem like thirsty rills, winding in serpentine mazes 
 through deserts of sand and stones : and so shidlow and tran- 
 quil in their course, as to be forded in safety in almost every 
 part. One autumnal tempest of rain, however, changes the 
 whole face of [nature. The clouds break in deluges among 
 the vast congregation of mountains. The ramblas are sud- 
 denly filled with raging floods, the tinkling rivulets swell to 
 thundering torrents, that come roaring down from the moun- 
 tains, precipitating great masses of rocks in their career. ITie 
 late meandering river spreads over its once naked bed, lashes 
 its surges against the banks, and rushes, like a wide and 
 foaming inundation, through the valley. 
 
 Scarcely had the Christians finished their slightly built 
 edifices ; when an autumnal tempest of the kind came scouring 
 from the mountains. The camp was immediately overflowed. 
 Many of the houses, imdermined by the floods or beaten by 
 the rain, crumbled away, and fell to the earth, burying man 
 and beast beneath their ruins. Several valuable lives were 
 lost, and great numbers of horses and other animals perished. 
 To add to the distress and confusion of the camp, the daily 
 supply of provisions suddenly ceased ; for the rain had broken 
 up the roads, and rendered the rivers impassable. A panic 
 seized upon the army, for the cessation of a single day's supply 
 produced a scarcity of bread and provender. Fortunately, the 
 rain was but transient. The torrents rushed by, and ceased ; 
 the rivers shrunk back again to their narrow channels ; and 
 the convoys, that had been detained upon their banks, arrived 
 safely in the camp. 
 
 No sooner did Queen Isabella hear of this interruption of 
 her supplies, than, with her usual vigilance and activity, she 
 provided against its recurrence. She despatched six thousand 
 foot soldiers, under the commtod of experienced officers, to 
 repair the roads, and to make causeways and bridges, for the 
 
 II 
 
 i; I 
 
 4 
 
 I 
 
 :'i 
 
276 
 
 SHE CONQUEST OV OBAKAOA. 
 
 distance of seven Spanish leagues. The troops, also, who had 
 been stationed in the mountains by the king, to guard the 
 defiles, made two paths, one for the convoys going to the 
 camp, and the other for those returning, that they might not 
 meet and impede each other. The edifices, which had been 
 demolished by the late floods, were rebuilt in a firmer manner, 
 and precautions were taken to protect the camp firom future 
 inundations. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXVIII. 
 
 Whek King Ferdinand beheld the ravage and confusion 
 produced by a single autumnal storm, and bethought him of 
 all the maladies to which a besieging camp is exposed, in in- 
 clement seasons, he began to feel his compassion kindling for 
 the sufibring people of Baza, and an inclination to grant them 
 more favourable terms. He sent, therefore, severe messages 
 to the alcayde, Mohammed ben Hassan, offering liberty of 
 person and security of property for the inhabitants, and lu]Ke 
 rewards for himself, if he would surrender the city. Ine 
 veteran Mohammed was not to be dazzled by the splendid 
 offers of the monarch. He had received exaggerated accounts 
 of the damage done to the Christian camp by the late storm, 
 and of the sufferings and discontents of the army, in conse- 
 quence of the transient interruption of supplies. He con- 
 sidered the overtures of Ferdinand as proofs of the desperate 
 state of his afiairs. *' A little more patience," said the shrewd 
 old warrior, *' and we shall see this crowd of Christian locusts 
 driven away before the winter storms. Wlien they onoe 
 turn their backs, it will be our lot to strike ; and, with the 
 help of Allah, the blow shall be decisive." He sent a firm, 
 though courteous, refusal to the Christian monarch ; and, in 
 the meantime, animated his companions to sally forth, with 
 more spirit than ever, to attack the Spanish outposts, and 
 those labouring in the trenches. The consequenco was a 
 daily occurrence of the most daring and bloody skirmishes, 
 that cost the lives of many of the bravest and most adventurous 
 cavaliers of either army. 
 
 In one of these sallies, near three hundred horse and two 
 thousand foot mounted the heights behind the city, to captnre 
 the Christians who were employed upon the works. They 
 came by surprise upon a body of guards, esquires of the Count 
 
ENCOITNTEB BEPOBB BAZA. 
 
 277 
 
 »had 
 1 the 
 the 
 it not 
 been 
 inner, 
 future 
 
 ifusion 
 him of 
 inin- 
 iing for 
 it them 
 essfl^es 
 (Crty of 
 id large 
 
 r- '^^ 
 iplendid 
 
 iccounts 
 
 e storm, 
 
 a consO' 
 
 He con^* 
 
 lesperate 
 
 3 shrewd 
 
 n locusts 
 
 ley onoe 
 
 with the 
 
 it a firm, 
 
 ; and, in 
 
 •rth, with 
 
 osts, and 
 
 CO was a 
 
 Idrmishes, 
 
 Lventurous 
 
 e and two 
 to capture 
 •ks. They 
 'the Count 
 
 de Urena; killed some, put the rest to flight, and pursued 
 them down the mountain, imtil they came in sight of a small 
 force under the Count de Tendilla and Gonsalvo of Cordova. 
 The Moors came rushing down with such fury, that many of 
 the men of the Coimt de Tendilla betook themselves to flight. 
 The brave count considered it less dangerous to fight than to 
 flee. Bracing his buckler, therefore, and grasping his trusty 
 weapon, he stood his ground with his accustomed prowess. 
 Gonsalvo of Cordova ranged himself by his side ; and, mar- 
 shalling the troops which remained with them, a valiant 
 front was made to the Moors. 
 
 The infidels pressed them hard, and were gaining the ad- 
 vantage, when Alonzo de Aguilar, hearing of the danger of 
 bis brother Gonsalvo, flew to his assistance, accompanied by 
 the Count of Urena and a body of their troops. A hot contest 
 ensued, from cliff to cliff and glen to glen. The Moors were 
 fewer in number; but they excelled in the dexterity and 
 lightness requisite for these scrambling skirmishes. They 
 were at length driven from their vantage ground, and pur- 
 sued by Alonzo de Aguilar and his brother Gonsalvo to the 
 very suburbs of the city ; leaving many of the bravest of their 
 men upon the field. 
 
 Such was one of innumerable rough encounters, which 
 were daily taking place ; in which many brave cavaliers were 
 slain, without any apparent benefit to either party. The 
 Moors, notwithstanding repeated defeats and losses, continued 
 to sally forth daily witi^ astonishing spirit and vigour ; and the 
 obstinacy of their defence seemed to increase with their sufferings. 
 
 The Prince Cidi Yahye was ever foremost in these sallies ; 
 but he grew daily more despairing of success. All the money 
 in the military chest was expended, and there was no longer 
 wherewithal to pay the, hired troops. Still the veteran Mo- 
 hammed ben Hassan undertook to provide for this emergency. 
 Summoning the principal inhabitants, he represented the 
 necessity of some exertion and sacrifice on their part, to main- 
 tain the defence of the city. ** The enemy," said he, " dreads 
 the approach of winter, and our perseverance drives him to 
 despair. A little longer, and he will leave you in quiet enjoy- 
 ment of your towers and families. But our troops must be 
 paid, to keep them in good heart. Our money is exhausted, 
 and all our supplies are cut off. It is impossible to continue 
 our defence wiwout your aid." 
 
 ■ V 
 
 ■ii 
 
 •I « , 
 
 
 ill 
 
 
278 
 
 THE COX QUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 Upon this the citizens consulted together ; and they col- 
 lected all their vessels of gold and silver, and brought them to 
 Mohammed ben Hassan. " Take these," said they, " and 
 coin them, or sell them, or pledge them for money where«vith 
 to pay the troops." The women of Baza, also, were seized 
 with generous emulation. " Shall we deck ourselves with 
 gorgeous apparel," said they, *' when our country is desolate, 
 and its defenders in want of bread?" So they took their 
 collars, and bracelets, and anklets, and other ornaments of 
 gold, and all their jewels, and placed them in the hands of tho 
 veteran alcayd'". " Take these spoils of our vanity," said 
 they, " and let them contribute to the defence of our homes 
 and families. If Baza be delivered we need no jewels to grace 
 our rejoicing ; and if Baza falls, of what avail arc ornaments 
 to the captive ? " 
 
 By these contributions was Mohammed enabled to pay the 
 soldiery, and to carry on the defence of the city with unabated 
 spirit. Tidings were speedily conveyed to King Ferdinand of 
 this generous devotion on the part of the people of Baza, and 
 the hopes which the Moorish commanders gave them that the 
 Christian army would soon abandon the siege in despair. 
 " They shall have a convincing proof of the fallacy of such 
 hopes,' ' said the politic monarch. So he wrote forthwith to 
 Queen Isabella, praying her to come to the camp in state, 
 with all her train and retinue, and publicly to take up her 
 residence there for the winter. Bv these means the Moors 
 would be convinced of the settled determination of the sove- 
 reigns to persist in the siege until the city should surrender, 
 and he trusted they would be brought to speedy capitulation. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXIX. 
 
 MoiiAMMED BEN IIassan Still cucouragcd his companions 
 with hopes that the royal army would soon relinquish the 
 siege, when they heard one day shouts of joy from the Chris- 
 tian camp, and thundering salvos of artilferj-. Word was 
 brought at the same time, from the sentinels on the watch- 
 towers, that a Christian army was approaching down the 
 valley. Mohammed and his fellow commanders ascended one 
 of the highest towers of the walls, and beheld in truth a nu- 
 merous force in shining array descending the hills, and heard 
 the distant clangour of tho trumpets and tlic f^iut swell of the 
 
QUEEN ISABELLA ABBIVES AT THE CAMP. 
 
 279 
 
 triumphant music. As the host drew nearer, they descried a 
 stately dame magnificently attired, whom they soon discovered 
 to be the queen. She was riding on a mule, the sumptuous 
 trappings of which were resplendent with gold, and reached 
 to the ground. On her right hand rode her daughter, the 
 Princess Isabella, equally splendid in her array ; on her left, 
 the venerable grand cardinal of Spain. A noble train of ladies 
 and cavaliers followed her, together with pages and esquires, 
 and a numerous guard of hidalgos of high rank, arrayed in su- 
 
 Eerb armour. Whon the veteran Mohammed ben Hassan 
 eheld that this was the Queen Isabella arriving in state to 
 take up her residence in the camp, his heart failed him. lie 
 shook his head mournfully, and turning to his captains, " Ca- 
 valiers," said he, "• the fate of Baza is decided!" 
 
 The Moorish commanders remained gazing with a mingled 
 feeling of grief and admiration at this magnificent pageant, 
 which foreboded the full of their city. Some of the troops 
 would have sallied forth in one of their desperate skirmishes 
 to attack the royal guard, but the Prince Cidi Yahye forbade 
 them ; nor would he allow any artillery to be discharged, or 
 any molestation or insult to be offered ; for the character of 
 Isabella was venerated even by the Moors, and most of the 
 commanders possessed that high and chivalrous courtesy 
 which belongs to heroic spirits, for they were among the 
 noblest and bravest cavaliers of the Moorish nation. 
 
 The inhabitants of Baza, when they learned that the Chris- 
 tian queen was approaching the camp, eagerly sought every 
 eminence that could command a view of the plain, and every 
 battlement, and tower, and mosque, was covered with turbaned 
 heads gazing at the glorious spectacle. Tiie beheld King 
 Ferdinand issue forth in roj^al state, attended by the Marquis 
 of Cadiz, the master of Santiago, the Duke of Alva, the Admiral 
 of Castile, and many other nobles of renown, while the whole 
 chivalry of the camp, sumptuously arrayed, followed in his 
 train, and the populace rent the air with acclamations at the 
 sight of the patriot queen. 
 
 When the sovereigns had met and embraced each other, 
 the two hosts mingled together and entered the camp in mar- 
 tial pomp, and the eyes of the infidel beholders were dazzled 
 by the flash of armour, the splendour of golden caparisons, the 
 gorgeous display of silks, and brocades, and velvets, of tossing 
 pluraet and fluttering banners. There was at the same timu 
 
 f).| 
 
 
inn 
 
 280 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBAVADA.. 
 
 a triumphant sound of drums and trumpets, clarions and sack- 
 buts, mingled with the sweet melody of the dulcimer, which 
 came swelling in bursts of harmony that eeemed to rise up to 
 the heavens.* 
 
 " On the arrival of the queen," says the historian Hernando 
 del Pulgar, who was present at the time, " it was marvellous 
 to behold how, all at once, the rigour and turbulence of war 
 was softened, and the storm of passions sunk into a calm. 
 The sword was sheathed, the crossbow no longer launched itB 
 deadly shafts, and the artillery,*which had hitherto kept up an 
 incessant uproar, now ceased its thimdering. On both sides 
 there was still a vigilant guard kept up, the sentinels bristled 
 the walls of Baza with their lances, and the guards patrolled 
 the Christian camp, but there was no sallying forth to skirmish, 
 nor any wanton violence or carnage. 
 
 Prince Cidi Yahye saw by the arrival of the queen that the 
 Christians were determined to continue the siege, and he 
 knew that the city would have to capitulate. He had been 
 prodigal of the lives of his soldiers as long as he thought a 
 military good was to be gained by the sacrifice, but he was 
 sparing of their blood in a hopeless cause, and wary of ex- 
 asperating the enemy by an obstinate hopeless defence. 
 
 At the request of Prmce Cidi Yahye a parley was granted, 
 and the master commander of Leon, Don Gutiere de Cardefiae, 
 was appointed to confer with the valiant alcayde Mahommed. 
 They met at an appointed place, within view of both camp 
 and city, honourably attended by cavaliers of either army. 
 Their meeting was highly coiurteous, for they had learned, 
 from rough encounters in the field, to admire each other's 
 prowess. The commander of Leon, in an earnest speeeh, 
 pointed out the hopelessness of any further defence, and 
 warned Mahommed of the ills which Malaga had incurred hv 
 its obstinacy. " I promise, in the name of my sovereign, 
 said he, " that if you surrender immediately, the inhabitants 
 shall be treated as subjects, and protected in property, liber^f, 
 and religion ; if you refuse, you, who are now renowned as an 
 able and judicious commander, will be chargeable with the 
 confiscations, captivities, and deaths, which may be suflfered 
 by the people of Baca." 
 
 The commander ceased, and Mohammed returned to the 
 city to consult with his companions. It was evident that all 
 
 * Cars de los Palaoios. 
 
THE SURRENDER OF BAZA. 
 
 281 
 
 i V 
 
 further resistance was hopeless, but the Moorish commanders 
 felt that a cloud might rest upon their names should they, of 
 Xheir own discretion, surrender so important a place without 
 its having sustained an assault. Prince Cidi Yahye requested 
 permission, therefore, to send an envoy to Guadix witli a 
 letter to the old monarch, El Zagal, treating of the surrender. 
 The request was granted, a safe conduct assured to the envoy, 
 and the veteran alcayde, Mohanuned ben Hassan, departed 
 upon this momentous mission. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXX. 
 
 The old w^amor king was seated in an inner chamber of 
 the castle of Guadix, much cast down in spirit, and rumi- 
 nating on his gloomy fortunes, when an envoy from Baza was 
 announced, and the veteran alcayde Mohammed stood before 
 him. El Zagal saw disastrous tidini^s written in his coun- 
 tenance. ** How fares it with Baxar' said he, summoning 
 up his spirits to the question. " Let this inform thee," 
 replied Mohammed ; and he delivered into his hands the 
 letter from the Prince Cidi Yahye. This letter spoke of the 
 desperate situation of Baza, the impossibility of holding out 
 longer, without assistance from El Zagal. and the favourable 
 terms offered by the Castiliun sovereigns. Had it been 
 written by any other person. El Zagal might have received it 
 with distrust and indignation ; but he confided in Cidi Yahye 
 as in a second self; and the words of his letter sunk deep iu 
 his heart. When he had finished reading it, he sighed deeply, 
 and remained for some time lost in thought, with his head 
 drooping upon his bosom. Kecovering himself at length, he 
 oallcd together the alfaquis, and the old men of Guadix ; and, 
 communicating the tidings from Baza, solicited thoir advice. 
 It was a sign of sore trouble of mind and dejection of heart, 
 when El Zagal sought the advice of others ; but his fierce 
 courage was tamed, for he saw the end of his power approach- 
 ing. The alfaquis and the old men did but increase the dis- 
 traption of his mind by a variety of counsel, none of which 
 appeared of any avail ; for, unless Baza were succoured, it 
 -was impossible that it should hold out, and every attempt to 
 auocour it had proved ineffectual. 
 
 El Zogttl dismissed his council in despair, and summoned 
 the veteran Mohamm^'d before him. *' Allah, uchbarT' 
 
 u 
 
 I W, 
 
 I 
 
282 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBAXADA. 
 
 exclaimed he, "God 18 great; there is but one God, and 
 Mahomet is his prophet ! Return to my cousin, Cidi Yahye, 
 tell him it is out of my power to aid him ; he must do as 
 seems to him for the best. The people of Baza have per- 
 formed deeds worthy of immortal fame : I cannot ask them to 
 encounter further ills and perils, in maintaining a hopeless 
 defence." 
 
 The reply of El Zagal determined the fate of the city. Cidi 
 Yahye and his fellow commanders, immediately capitulated, 
 and were granted the most favourable terms. The cavaliers 
 and soldiers, who had come from other parts to the defence of 
 the place, were permitted to depart freely, with their arms, 
 horses, and effects. The inhabitants had their choice, either 
 to depart with tKeir property, or to dwell in the suburbs, in 
 the enjoyment of their religion and laws ; taking an oath of 
 fealty to the sovereigns, and paying the same tribute they 
 had paid to the Moorish kings. The city and citadel were to 
 be delivered up in six days ; within which period the inha- 
 bitants were to remove all their effects ; and, in the mean- 
 time, they were to place, as hostages, fifteen Moorish youths, 
 sons of the principal inhabitants, in the hands of the com- 
 manders of Leon. When Cidi Yahye and the alcayde Mo- 
 hammed came to deliver up the hostages, among whom were 
 the sons of the latter, they paid homage to the king and 
 queen; who received them with the utmost courtesy and 
 kindness, and ordered magnificent presents to be given to 
 them, and likewise to the other Moorish cavaliers ; consisting 
 of money, robes, horses, and other things of great value. 
 
 The Prince Cidi Yahye was so captivated by the grace, the 
 dignity, and generosity of Isabella, and the princely courtesy 
 of Ferdinand, that he vowed never i^in to draw his sword 
 «gainst such magnanimous sovereigns. 
 
 The queen, charmed with his gallant bearing and his 
 animated profesbiou of devotion, assured him, that, havinr 
 him on her side, she already considered the war terminated, 
 which had desolated the kingdom of Granada. 
 
 Mighty and irresistible are words of praise from the lipe. of 
 sovereigns. Cidi Yahye was entirely subdued by thia tur 
 speech trova the illustrious Isabella. His heart burned wilk 
 a sudden flame of loyalty towards the sovereigns. He begged 
 to be enrolled amongst the most devoted of their subjects ; 
 and, in the fervour of his sudden leal, «igaged, not merely to 
 
, and 
 ahyc, 
 do as 
 i per- 
 em to 
 pelees 
 
 . Cidi 
 ilated, 
 valiers 
 !nce of 
 • arms, 
 either 
 irbs, in 
 oath of 
 te they 
 (vere to 
 e inha- 
 i mean- 
 youths, 
 le com- 
 rde Mo- 
 (m were 
 ing and 
 esy and 
 ^iven to 
 insisting 
 
 ae. 
 
 race, the 
 courtesy 
 is swora. 
 
 and hi» 
 t, haying 
 minated, 
 
 le lips' of 
 this Ibir 
 •ned wilh 
 e begged 
 subjects ; 
 merely to 
 
 THE SUBUENDEK Or BAZA. 
 
 283 
 
 dedicate his sword to their service, but to exert all his in- 
 fluence, which was great, in persuading his cousin, Muley 
 Abdalla el Zagol, to surrender the cities of Guadix and 
 Almeria, and to give up all further hostilities. Nay, so 
 powerful was the effect produced upon his mind by his con- 
 versations with the sovereigns, that it extended even to his 
 religion ; for he became immediately enlightened as to the 
 heathenish abominations of the \ile sect of Mahomet, and 
 struck with the truths of Christianity, as illustrated by such 
 powerful monarchs. He consented, therefore, to be baptized, 
 and to be gathered into the fold of the church. The pious 
 Agapida indulges in a triumphant strain of exultation, on the 
 sudden and surprising conversion of this princely infidel. He 
 considers it one of the greatest achievements of the Catholic 
 sovereigns ; and, indeed, one of the marvellous occuiTences of 
 this holy war. ** But it is given to saints and pious monarchs," 
 says he, ''to work miracles in tlie cause of the fuith ; and 
 such did the most Catholic Ferdinand, in the conversion of 
 the Prince Cidi Yahye." 
 
 Some of the Arabian writers have sought to lessen the 
 wonder of this miracle, by alluding to great revenues, granted 
 to the prince and his heirs by the Costilian monarchs ; to» 
 gcther with a territory in Marchena, with towns, lands, and 
 vassals. ^But in this," says Agapida, "we only see a wise 
 precaution of King Ferdinand, to clinch and secure the con- 
 version of his proselyte." The policy of the Catholic monardi 
 was at all times equal to his piety. Instead also of vaunting 
 of this great conversion, and making a public parade of tke 
 entry of tho prince into the church. King Ferdmand ordered, 
 that the baptism should be performed in private, and kept a 
 profound secret. He feared that Cidi Yahye might otherwise 
 be denounced as an apostate, and abhorred and abandoned by 
 the Moors ; and thus his influence destroyed in bringii^ the 
 war to a speedy termination.* 
 
 The veteran Mohammed ben Hoscan was likewise won by 
 the magnanimity and mimificencc of the Costilian sovereigns, 
 and entreated to be received into their service ; and hit 
 example was fdlowed by many other Moorish cavaliers, 
 whose services were graciously accepted and magnificently 
 rewarded. 
 
 Thns, after a siego of six montbe and twenty days, the cito> 
 * Conds, tm.Ui.mp.4li 
 
 V2 
 
 m 
 
 ' if: 
 
 I 1 1 
 
 m 
 
 i 
 
284 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBANADA. 
 
 
 of Baza surrendered, on the 4th of December, 1489, the 
 festival uf the glorious Santa Barbara ; who is said, in the 
 Catholic calendar, to preside over thunder and lightning, fire 
 and gunpowder, and all kinds of combustible explosions. The 
 king and queen made their solemn and triumphal entr}* on 
 the following day ; and the public joy was heightened by the 
 sight of upwards of five hundred Christian captives, men, 
 women, and children, delivered from the Moorish dungeons. 
 
 The loss of the Christians, in this siege, amounted to twenty 
 thousand men ; of whom seventeen thousand died of disease, 
 and not a few of mere cold ; " a kind of death," says the 
 historian Mariana, "peculiarly uncomfortable. But," adds 
 the venerable Jesuit, " as these latter were chiefly people of 
 ignoble rank, baggage carriers and such like, the loss was 
 not of great importance." 
 
 The surrender of Baza was followed by that of Almmle^ar, 
 Tavemas, and most of the fortresses of the Alpuxarra moun- 
 tains. The inhabitants hoped, by prompt and voluntary 
 submission, to secure equally favourable terms with those 
 granted to the captured city ; and the alcaydes, to receive 
 similar rewards to those lavished on its commanders; nor 
 were either of them disappointed. The inhabitants were 
 permitted to remain as Mudexarras, in the quiet enjoyment of 
 their property and religion; and as to the alcaydes, when 
 they came to the camp to render up their charges, they were 
 received by Ferdinand with distinguished favour, and re- 
 warded with presents of money, in proportion to the impor- 
 tance of the places they had commanded. Care was taken 
 by the politic monarch, no>v ever, not to wound their pride, or 
 phock their delicacy ; so these sums were paid, under colour 
 of arrears due to them, for their services to the former 
 government. Ferdinand had conquered, by dint of sword, in 
 ^e earlier part of the war ; but he found gold as potent as 
 Mteel in this campaign of Baza. 
 
 With several of these mercenary chieftains came one, 
 named Ali Aben Fahar, a seasoned warrior, who had held 
 many important commands. He was a Moor, of a lofty, 
 stem, and melancholy aspect; and stood silent and apart, 
 while his companions surrendered their several fortresses, and 
 retired laden with treasure. When it came to his turn to 
 ■peak, he addressed the sovereigns with the frankness of a 
 •oldier, but with a ian^ of d^ection and despair. '* I am u 
 
l *i|HL i II imifm if'rtiiimmimBi 
 
 jic one, 
 
 ad held 
 
 lofty, 
 
 apart, 
 
 ises, and 
 
 turn to 
 
 I amu 
 
 THE SVBRENDER OF BAZA. 
 
 285 
 
 Moor," said he, " and of Moorish lineage ; and am alcaycla of 
 the fair towns and castles of Purchena and Paterna. These 
 were intrusted to me to defend ; but those, that should have 
 stood by me, have lost all strength and eourage, and seek 
 only for security. These fortresses, therefore, most potent 
 sovereigns, are yours, whenever you will send to take posses- 
 sion of them." 
 
 Large sums of money in gold wore immediately ordered by 
 Ferdinand to be delivered to the alcaydo, as a recompense for 
 so important a suiTender. The Moor, however, put back the 
 gift Mrith a firm and haughty demeanour. "I come not,'' 
 said he, " to sell what is not mine, but to yield what fortune 
 has made yours ; and your majesties may rest assured, that, 
 had I been properly seconded, death woidd have been the 
 price at which I would have sold my fortresses, and not the 
 gold you offer me." 
 
 The Castilian monarehs were struck with the lofty and 
 loyal spirit of the Moor, and desired to engage a man of such 
 fidelity in their service ; but the proud Moslem could not be 
 induced to serve the enemies of his nation and his faith. 
 
 " Is there nothing, then," said Queen Isabella, " that we 
 can do to gratify thee, and to prove to thcc our regard?" 
 " Yes," replied the Moor, " I have left behind me, in the 
 towns and valleys which I have sunendcrcd, many of my 
 imhappy countrymen, with their wives and children, who 
 cannot tear themselves from their native abodes. Give me 
 your royal word that thoy shall be protected in the peaceable 
 enioyment of their religion and their homes." " We promise 
 it," said Isabella ; " they sh.'dl dwell in peace and security. 
 But for thyself; what dost thou ask for thyself?" " Nothing," 
 replied AH, " but permission to i)ass unmolested, with hoi'ses 
 and effects, into Africa." 
 
 The Castilian monarehs would ftiin have forced upon him 
 gold and silver, and superb horses richly caparisoned ; not as 
 rewards, but as marks of personal esteem : but Ali Aben 
 Fahar declined all presents ami distinctions, as if he thought 
 it criminal to flourish individually, during a time of public 
 distress ; and disdained all prosperity that seemed to grow 
 out of the ruins of his country. 
 
 Having r<>ceivcd a royal passport, he gathered together hii 
 horses and 8er>*ants, his armoiu* and weapons, and all his 
 Mrarlike effects, bade adieu to his weeping couutr}inen, with 
 
 
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 YK 
 
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 (m 
 
 
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 ■ -•! 
 
 V 
 
 1^' 
 
 ■i 
 
 I. 
 
 m 
 
 , - 
 
THE CONQUEST OF OKANADA. 
 
 a brow stamped with anguish, but without shedding a tear, 
 and, mounting his Barbary steed, turned his back upon the 
 delightfid valleys of his conquered country ; departing on his 
 kmely way, to seek a soldier's fortune amidst the burning 
 sands of Africa.* 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXI. 
 
 Evil tidings never fail by the way through lack of me»- 
 aengers. They are wafted on the wings of the wind; and it 
 is if the very birds of the air would bear them to the ear of 
 the unfortunate. The old king. El Zagal, buried himself in 
 the recesses of his castle, to hide himself from the light of 
 day, which no longer shone prosperoiisly upon him; but eyerj 
 hour brought missives, thundering at the gate with the tale 
 of some new disaster. Fortress after fortress had laid its 
 keys at the feet of the Christian sovereigns. Strip by strip 
 of warrior mountain and green fruitful valley was torn from 
 his domains, and added to the territories of the conquerors. 
 Scarcely a remnant remained to him, except a tract of the 
 Alpuxarras, and the noble cities of Guadix and Almeria. No 
 one any longer stood in awe of the fierce old monarch : the 
 terror of his frown had declined with his power. He had 
 arrived at that stage of adversity, when a man's friends feel 
 emboldened to tell him hard truths, and to give him unpa- 
 latable advice, and when his spirit is bowed down to listen 
 quietly, if not meekly. 
 
 El Zagal was seated on his divan, his whole spirit absorbed 
 in rumination on the transitory nature of human glory, when 
 his kinsman and brother-in-law, the Prince Cidi Yahye, was 
 announced. That illustrious convert to the true faith, and 
 the interest of the conquerors of his country, had hastened 
 to Guadix with all the fer>'our of a new proselyte, eager to 
 prove his zeal in the service of Heaven and the Castilian 
 sovereigns, by persuading the old monarch to abjure his 
 fiuth, and surrender his possessions. 
 
 Cidi Yahye still bore the guise of a Moslem; for his con- 
 yersion was as yet a secret. ITie stem heart of El Zagal 
 softened at beholding the face of a kinsman, in this hour of 
 adversity. He folded his cousin to his bosom, and gave 
 hanks to Allah, that, amidst all his troubles, he had soil a 
 * Pulgar. Garibaj, lib. xl. cap. 40. Cura de lot PaUcios. 
 
SUBMISSION OF £L ZAOAL. 
 
 287 
 
 friend and counsellor, on whom he might rely. Cidi Yahye 
 soon entered upon the real purpose of his mission. He 
 represented to El Zagal the desperate state of affairs, and 
 the irretrievable decline of Moorish power in the kingdom of 
 Granada. " Fate," said he, " is against our arms; our ruin 
 is written in the heavens: remember the prediction of the 
 astrologers, at the birth of your nephew Boabdil. We had 
 hoped, that their prediction was accomplished by his capture 
 at Lucena; but it is now evident, that the stars portended, 
 not a temporary and passing reverse of the kingdom, but a 
 final overthrow. The constant succession of disasters, which 
 have attended our efforts, show, that the sceptre of Granada 
 is doomed to pass into the hands of the Christian monarchs. 
 Such," concluded the prince, emphatically, and with a pious 
 reverence, " such is the almighty will of God!" 
 
 £1 Zagal listened to these words in mute attention, without 
 80 much as moving a muscle of his face, or winking an eye- 
 lid. When the prince had concluded, he remained for a Ions 
 time silent and pensive. At length, heaving a profound sigh 
 from the very bottom of his heart. " Alahuma subahana 
 hu!" exclaimed he, " the will of God be done! Yes, my 
 cousin, it is but too evident, that such is the will of Allah; 
 and what he wills, he fails not to accomplish. Had he not 
 decreed the fall of Granada, this arm, and this cimeter, 
 would have maintained it."* 
 
 " What then remains," said Cidi Yahye, *' but to draw 
 the most advantage from the wreck of empire that if* left 
 you? To persist in a war, is to bring complete desolation 
 upon the laind, and ruin and death upon its faithful inhabi- 
 tants. Are you dis[)osed to yield up your remaining towns to 
 your nephew, £1 Chiquito, that they may augment his power, 
 and derive protection from his alliance with the Christian 
 sovereigns.^" 
 
 The eye of £1 Zagal flashed fire at this suggestion.' He 
 grasped the hilt of his cimetcr, and gnashed his teeth in 
 ftiry. " Never," cried he, " will I make terms with that 
 recreant and slave ! sooner would I see the banners of the 
 Christian monarchs floating above my walls, than they should 
 add to the possessions of the vassal Boubdil!" 
 
 Cidi Yahye immediately seized upon this idea, and urged 
 £1 Zagal to make a frank and entire surrender. '* Trust," 
 
 * Cowl*, i. UL c 40. 
 
 • ■■S 
 
 ■h 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 'I 
 
 fi 
 
28S 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBAVADA. 
 
 said he, " to the magnanimity of the Castilian sovereigns. 
 They will doubtless grant yon high and honourable terms. It 
 w better to yield to them as friends, what they must infal- 
 libly and before long wrest from you as enemies: for such, 
 my cousin, is the almighty will of God!" " Alahuma suba- 
 hana hu!" repeated El Zagal, " the will of God be ^done !'* 
 So the old monarch bowed his haughty neck, and agreed to 
 surrender his temtories to the enemies of his faith, rather 
 than suffer them to augment the Moslem power, under the 
 sway of his nephew. 
 
 Cidi Yahye now returned to Baza, empowered by El Zagal 
 to treat, on his behalf, with the Christian sovereigns. The 
 prince felt a species of exultation, us he expatiu,c;ed on the rich 
 relics of empire, which he was authorized to cede. There 
 was a great part of that line of mountains, which extends 
 from the metropolis to the Mediterranean Sea, with its series 
 of beautiful green valleys, like precious emeralds set in a 
 golden chain. Above all these were Guadix and Almeria, 
 two of the most inestimable jewels in the crown of Granada. 
 
 In return for these possessions, and for the claim of EI 
 Zagal to the rest of the kingdom, the sovereigns received him 
 into their friendship and alliance, and gave him, in perpetual 
 inheritance, the territory of Alhamin, in the Alpuxarras, with 
 half of the salinas, or salt pits, of Maleha. He was to enjoy 
 the title of King of Andaraxa, with two thousand Mudejarcs, 
 or conquered Moors, for subjects ; and his revenues were to 
 be made up to the sum of four millions of maravedis:* all 
 these he was to hold as a vassal of the Castilian crown. 
 
 These arrangements being made, Cidi Yahye returned with 
 them to Muley Abdalla; and it was concerted, that the cere- 
 mony of surrender and homage should take place at the city 
 of Almeria. 
 
 On the I7th of December, King Ferdinand departed from 
 Baza, with a part of his army, and the queen soon followed 
 with the remainder. Ferdinand passed in triumph by several 
 of the newly acquired towns, exulting in these trophies of his 
 policy rather than his valour. As he drew near to Almeria, 
 the Moorish king came forth to meet him, accompanied by 
 the Prince Cidi Yahye, and a number of the principal inha- 
 bitants on horseback. The fierce brow of El Zagal was 
 clouded with a kind of forced humility; but there was an 
 f Curs de los Palados, cap. 94. 
 
/jMASk. ..UiikAfillUHIKWiCKfiiMHaMB 
 
 SUBSEQUENT EVENTS. 
 
 289 
 
 from 
 
 lowed 
 
 jeveral 
 
 of his 
 
 impatient curl of the lip, with now and then a swelling of 
 the bosom, and an indignant breathing from the distended 
 nostril. It was evident he considered himself conquered, not 
 by the power of man, but by the hand of Heaven ; and while 
 he bowed to the decrees of fate, it galled his proud spirit to 
 have to humble himself before its mortal agent. As ho 
 approached the Christian king, he alighted from his horse, 
 and advanced to kiss his hand, in token of homage. Ferdi- 
 nand, however, respected the royal title which the Moor had 
 held, and would not permit the ceremony, but, bending from 
 his saddle, graciously embraced him, and requested him to 
 remount his steed.* Several courteous speeches passed 
 between them, and the fortress and city of Almeria, and all 
 the remaining territories of El Zagal, were delivered up in 
 form. When all was accomplished, the old warrior Moor 
 retired to the mountains, with a handful of adherents, to seek 
 his petty territory of Andaraxa, to bury his humiliation from 
 the world, and to console himself with the shadowy title of a 
 king. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXII. 
 
 Who can tell when to rejoice in this fluctuating world? 
 Every wave of prosperity has its reacting surge, and we are 
 often overwhelmed by the very billow, on which we thought 
 to be wafted into the haven of our hopes. When Jusef Aben 
 Commixa, the vizier of Boabdil, surnamed El Chico, entered 
 the royal saloon of the Alhambra, and announced the capitula- 
 tion of El Zagal, the heart of the youthful monarch leaped for 
 joy. His great wish was accomplished; his uncle was de- 
 feated and dethroned ; and he reigned, without a rival, solo 
 monarch of Granada. At length he was about to enjoy the 
 firuits of his humiliation and vassalage. He beheld his 
 throne fortified by the friendship and alliance of the Castilian 
 monarchs; there could be no question, therefore, of it» 
 stability. "Allah achbar!" exclaimed he, "God is great! 
 Bejoice with me, oh Jusef, the stars have ceased their perse- 
 cution! Henceforth let no man call me El Zogoy hi!" 
 
 In the first moment of his exultation, Boabdil would have 
 ordered public rejoicings; but the shrewd Jusef shook his 
 head. "The tempest has ceased," said he, "from one point of 
 * Curs de Iob Palacioa, cap. 93. 
 
 •I 
 
 
 ; .f 
 ■•■4 
 
 <rn'l 
 
 11 ■■ 
 
290 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF ORAKADA. 
 
 I 
 
 tiie heavens, but it may begin to rage from another. A 
 troubled sea is beneath us, and we are surrounded by rocks 
 and quicksands: let my lord the king defer rejoicings until 
 •11 has settled into a calm." £1 Chico, however, could not 
 remain tranquil in this day of exultation. He ordered hit 
 steed to be sumptuously caprisoncd, and, issuing out of the 
 gate of the Alhambra, descended with a glittering retinue 
 along the avenue of trees and fountains into the city, to 
 receive the acclamations of the populace. As he entered the 
 great square of the vivarrambla, he beheld crowds of people 
 in violent agitation; but, as he approached, what was his 
 surprise to hear groans, and murmurs, and bursts of execta- 
 tion! The tidings had spread through Granada, that Muley 
 Abdalla el Zagal had been driven to capitulate, and that aU 
 his territories had fallen into the hands of the Christians. 
 No one had inquired into the particulars, but all Granada had 
 been thrown into a ferment of grief and indignation. In the 
 heat of the moment, old Muley was extolled to the skies as a 
 patriot prince, who had fought to the last for the salvation 
 of his country; as a mirror of monarchs, scorning to com- 
 promise the dignity of his crown by any act of vassalage. 
 Boabdil, on the contraiy, had looked on exidtingly at die 
 hopeless yet heroic struggle of his uncle; he had rejoiced in 
 the defeat of the &ithful, and the triumph of unbelievers. 
 He had aided in the dismemberment and downfal of the 
 empire. "When they beheld him riding forth in gorgeous 
 state, in what they considered a day of humiliation for all true 
 Moslems, they could not contain their rage, and, amidst the 
 clamours that prevailed, Boabdil more than once heard bis 
 name coupled with the epithets of traitor and renegade. 
 
 Shocked and discomfited, the youthful monarch returned 
 in confusion to the Alhambra. He shut himself up within its 
 innermost courts, and remained a kind of voluntary prisoner, 
 until the first bivst of popular feeling should subside. He 
 trusted that it would soon pass away; that the people would 
 be too sensible of the sweets of peace to repine at the price at 
 which it was obtained ; at any rate, he trusted to the strong 
 friendship of the Christian sovereigns to secure him even 
 against the factions of his subjects. 
 
 The fi'^t missives from the politic Ferdinand, showed 
 Boabdil the value of his friendship. 
 
 The Catholic monarch reminded him of a treaty which he 
 
li 
 
 lowed 
 lichhe 
 
 suBstyrEXT events. 
 
 had made, when captured in the city of Loxa. By this he 
 had engaged, that, in case the Catholic sovereigns should 
 capture the cities of Guadix, Baza, and Aimer ia, he would 
 surrender Granada into their hands within a limited time, and 
 accept in exchange certain Moorish towns, to be held by him 
 as their vassal. Ferdinand now informed him that Guadix, 
 Bajoi, and Almeria had fallen ; he called upon him, therefore, 
 to fulfil his engagement. If the unfortunate Boabdil had 
 possessed the wUl, he had not the power to comply with this 
 demand. He was shut up in the Alhambra, while a tempest of 
 popular fiiry raged without. Granada was thronged by refugees 
 from the captured towns, many of them disbanded soldiers; 
 others broken down citizens, rendered fierce and desperate by 
 min: all railed at Boabdil as the real cause of their misfor- 
 tunes. How was he to venture forth in such a storm? above 
 all, how was he to talk to such men of surrender? In his 
 reply to Ferdinand, he represented the difficulties of his 
 situation; and that, so far from having control over his 
 subjects, his very life was in danger from their turbulence. 
 He entreated the king, therefore, to rest satisfied for the 
 present with his recent conquests, promising him, that should 
 he be able to regain full empire over his capital and its inha- 
 bitants, it would be but to rule over them as vassal to the 
 Castilian crown. 
 
 Ferdinand was not to be satisfied with such a reply. The 
 time was come to bring his game of policy to a close, and to 
 consummate his conquest, by seating himself on the throne of 
 the Alhambra. Professing to consider Boabdil as a faithless 
 ally, who had broken his plighted word, he discarded him 
 from his friendship, and addressed a second letter, not to that 
 monarch, but to the commanders and council of the city. He 
 demanded a complete surrender of the place, with all the 
 arms in the possession either of the citizens or of others who 
 had recently taken refuge within its walls. If the inhabitants 
 should comply with this summons, he promised them the 
 indulgent terms which had been granted to Baza, Guadix, 
 and Almeria: if they should refuse, he threatened them with 
 the fate of Malaga.* 
 
 The message of the Catholic monarch produced the greatest 
 commotion in the city. The inhabitants of the alcaceria, that 
 busy hive of traffic, and all others who had tasted the sweets 
 * Cars de los Palacios, cap. 96. 
 
 li' 
 
 II 
 
 1-^:^ 
 
 I* ^ * 
 
292 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GKAXADA. 
 
 of gainful commerce during the late cessation of hostilities, 
 were for securing their golden advantages by timely submis- 
 sion: others, who had wives and children, looked on them 
 with tenderness and solicitude, and dreaded, by resistance, to 
 bring upon them the horrors of slavery. Hut, on the other 
 hand, Granada was crowded with men from all parts, ruined 
 by the war, exasperated by their sufferings, and eager only 
 for revenge : with others, who had been reared amidst hos- 
 tilities, who had lived by the sword, and whom a return of 
 peace would leave without home or hope. There were others 
 too, no less fiery and warlike in disposition, but animated by 
 a loftier spirit, valiant and haughty cavaliers, of the old 
 chivalrous Hneages, who had inherited a deadly hatred to the 
 Christians from a long line of warrior ancestors, and to whom 
 the idea was worse than death that Granada, illustrious 
 Granada, for ages the seat of Moorish grandeur and delight, 
 should become the abode of unbelievers. Among these 
 cavaliers, the most eminent was Muza ben Abil Gazan. He 
 was of royal lincnge, of a proud and generous nature, and a 
 form combining manly strength and beauty. None could 
 excel him in the management of the horse, and dexterous use 
 of all kinds of weapons. His gracefulness and skill in the 
 tourney was the theme of praise among the Moorish dames ; 
 and his prowess in the field had made him the terror of the 
 enemy. He had long repined at tlu? timid policy of Boabdil, 
 and had endeavoured to counteract its enervating effects, and 
 to keep alive the martial 8j)irit of Granada. For this reason 
 he had ])romotcd jousts, and tiltings with the reed, and all 
 those other public games which bear the semblance of war. 
 He endeavomcd, also, to ineidcate into his companions in 
 arms those high chivalrous sentiments which lead to valiant 
 and magnanimous deeds, but Nvhich are a])t to decline with 
 the independence of a nation. Tiie generotis efforts of Muza 
 had been in a great measure sueeessl'id : he was tlie idol of the 
 youthful cavaliers; they regarded liini as a mirror of ehivalrj', 
 and endeavoured to imitate his lofty and heroic virtues. 
 
 When Muza heard the demand of Ferdinand, that they 
 (ihould deliver up his arms, his eyes Hashed fire. "Does the 
 Christian king think that we are old men," said he, " and that 
 staffs will suffice us? or that we are women, and can be 
 contented with distaffs? Let him know, that a Moor is born to 
 the spear and the cimeter ; to career the steed, bend the bow. 
 
HOSTILITIES AGAINST GRANADA. 
 
 293 
 
 Utics, 
 bmis- 
 
 thera 
 ice, to 
 
 other 
 mined 
 r only 
 st hos- 
 ;urn of 
 
 others 
 itcd by 
 the old 
 I to the 
 
 whom 
 ustrious 
 delight, 
 g these 
 in. He 
 J, nnd a 
 le could 
 >rou8 use 
 
 1 in the 
 I dames ; 
 or of the 
 
 Boabdil, 
 ects, nnd 
 lis reason 
 
 and all 
 D of war. 
 anions in 
 to valiant 
 clinc with 
 H of Muza 
 laol of the 
 
 chivalry, 
 
 IK'S. 
 
 that they 
 '* Does the 
 and that 
 lid can be 
 r is bom to 
 id the bow. 
 
 and lanch the javelin : deprive liim of tliese, and you deprive 
 him of his nature. If tlic Christian kinp desire our arms, let 
 him come and win them; l)ut let him win them dearlv. I'or 
 my part, sweeter were a <ijiave beneath the walls of Granada, 
 on the spot I had died to defend, than the richest ccmeh 
 within her palaces, earned by submission to the unbeliever." 
 
 The words of Mu;'-a were received with enthusiastic shcmts 
 by the warlike part of the populace, (iranada once more 
 awoke as a warrior sliakin<; off a disgraceful letharg}'. The 
 commanders and council partook of the public excitement, 
 and despatched a reply to the Christian sovereigns, declaring 
 that they would suffer death rather than surrender their city. 
 
 CIIArTEK LXXXIII. 
 
 When King Ferdinand received the defiance of the Moors» 
 he made preparations for bitter hostilities. The winter season 
 did not admit of an immediate campaign : he conteiited him- 
 self, therefore, with throwing strong garrisons into all his 
 towns and fortresses in the neighbourhood of Granada, and 
 gave vie command of all the frontier of Jaen to Inigo J^opez 
 de Mendoza, count of Tendilla, who had shown such consum- 
 mate vigilance and address in maintaining the dangerous post 
 of Albania. This renowned veteran established his head- 
 quarters in the mountain city of Alcala la Ileal, within eight 
 leagues of the city of Granada, and commanding the most im- 
 portant passes of that rugged frontier. 
 
 In the meantime, the city of Granada rcsonn<led with the 
 stir of war. The chivalry of the nation had again cemtrol of 
 its councils ; and the populace, having (mce more resumed 
 their weapons, were anxious to wipe out the disgrace of their 
 late passive submission, by signal and daring exploits. 
 
 Muza ben Abil Gaxan was the soul of action. He com- 
 manded the cavalry, which he had disciplined with uncom- 
 mon skill. lie was surrounded by the noblest youth of Gra- 
 nada, who had caught his own generous and martial Hre, and 
 panted for the field ; while the common soldieis, devoted to 
 Lis person, were ready to follow him in the most desperate 
 enterprises. He did not allow their courage to cool for want 
 of action. Tlie gates of Granada once more poured forth 
 legions of light scouring cavalry, which skined the comitrj* 
 up to the very gates of the Christian fortresses ; sweeping ott* 
 
 .r« 
 
 •I . 
 
 !;fi 
 
 f 
 
 ' It 
 
 
 :\ 
 
294 
 
 THE CONQUEST OP OBAXADA. 
 
 flocks and herds. The name of Muza became formidable 
 throughout the frontier. He had many encounters with the 
 enemy, in the rough passes of the mountains ; in which the 
 superior lightness and dexterity of his cavalry gave him the 
 advantage. The sight of his glistening legion, returning 
 across the vcga with long cavnlgadas of booty, was hailed by 
 the Moors as a revival of tlieir ancient triumphs ; but when 
 they beheld Christian banners, borne into their gates as 
 trophies, the exultation of the light minded populace was be- 
 yond all bounds. The winter passed away, the spring ad- 
 vanced ; yet Ferdinand delayed to take the field. He knew 
 the city of Granada to be too strong and populous to be taken 
 by assault, and too full of provisions to be speedily reduced by 
 siege. " We must have patience and perseverance," said the 
 politic monarch. " By ravaging the country this year, we 
 shall produce a scarcity the next ; and then the city may be 
 invested with effect." 
 
 An interval of peace, aided by the quick vegetation of a 
 prolific soil and happy climate, had restored the vega to all 
 its luxuriance and beauty. The green pastures on the bor- 
 ders of the Xenil were covered with flocks and herds. The 
 blooming orchards gave promise of abundant fruit; and the 
 open plain was waving with ripening com. The time was at 
 hand to put in the sickle and reap the golden harvest, when, 
 suddenly, a torrent of war came sweeping down from the 
 mountains; and Ferdinand, with an army of five thousand 
 horse and twenty thousand foot, appeared before the walls of 
 Granada. He had left the queen and princess at the fortress 
 of Moelin ; and came, attended by the Duke of Medina Si- 
 donin, the Marquis of Cadiz, the Marquis de Villena, the 
 Counts of Urena and Cabras, Don Alonzo de Aguilar, and 
 other renowned cavaliers. On this occasion King Ferdinand, 
 for the first time, led his son. Prince Juan, into the field, and 
 bestowed upon hira the dignit}' of knighthood. As if to sti- 
 mulate him to grand achievements, the ceremony took place 
 on the banks of the grand canal, almost beneath the embattled 
 walls of that warlike city, the object of such daring enter- 
 prises ; and in the midst of that famous vega, which had been 
 the field of so many chivalrous exploits. High above them 
 shone resplendent the rod towers of the Alhambra, rifling 
 from amiilnt delicious gioves ; with the standard of Mahomet 
 waving defiance to the Christian arms. 
 
p 
 
 y 
 
 [dable 
 th the 
 >h the 
 m the 
 Lirning 
 led by 
 , when 
 ates as 
 ivas be- 
 ing ad- 
 B knew 
 le taken 
 uced by 
 said the 
 ear, we 
 maybe 
 
 tion of a 
 ^ to aU 
 the bor- 
 is. The 
 and the 
 le was at 
 jt, when» 
 from the 
 thousand 
 e walls of 
 le fortress 
 edina Si- 
 llcna, the 
 uilar, and 
 I'erdinand, 
 field, and 
 8 if to sti- 
 took place 
 embattled 
 ing enter- 
 1 had bee» 
 ibove them 
 bra, rising 
 ^ Mahomet 
 
 HOSTILITIES AGAINST OBANADA. 
 
 295 
 
 The Duke of Medina Sidonia, and the valiant Rodri^o 
 Fouce de Leon, Marquis of Cadiz, were sponsors ; and all the 
 chivalry of the eanip was assembled on the occttsiun. The 
 prince, after he had been knighted, bestowed the same honour 
 on several youthful cavaliers of high rank, just entering, like 
 himself, on the career of arms. 
 
 Ferdinand did not loiter in canying his desolating plans 
 into execution. He drtached parties in every direction, to 
 scour the country. Villages were sacked, burnt, and destroyed, 
 and the lovely vega once more was laid waste with fire and 
 sword. The ravage was carried so close to Granada, that the 
 city was wrapped in the smoke of its hamlets and gardens. 
 The dismal cloud rolled up the hill, and hung about the 
 towers of the Alhambra ; where the unfortunate Boabdil still 
 remained, shut up from the indignation of his subjects. The 
 hapless monarch smote his breast, as he looked down from his 
 mountain palace on the desolation effected by his late ally. 
 He dared not even show himself in amui among the populace, 
 for they ciu^ed him as the cause of the miseries broiight anew 
 to their doors. The Moors, however, did not suffer the 
 Christians to carry on their ravages as unmolested as in former 
 years. Muza incited them to inces!>ant sallies. He divided 
 nis cavalry into small squadrons, each led by a daring com- 
 mander. They were taught to hover round the Christian 
 camp ; to h^irass it from various and opposite quarters, cut- 
 ting off convoys and straggling detachments ; to waylay the 
 army in its ravaging expeditions, lurking among rocks and 
 passes of the mountains, or in hollows au<l thickets of the 
 plain ; and practising a thousand stratagems and surprises. 
 
 The Christian army had one diiy spread itself out, rather 
 unguardedly, in its fora<{;ing about the vega. As the troops 
 commanded by the Mar([uis de Villena ai>proached the skirts 
 of the mountains, they beheld a number of Moorish peasants 
 hastily driving a herd of cattle into a narrow glen. Tho 
 soldiers, eager for booty, pressed in pursuit of thorn. Scarcely 
 had they entered the glen, when shouts arose from every side, 
 and they were furiously attacked by an ambuscade of horse 
 and foot. Some of the Christians took to flight ; others stood 
 their ground and fought valitmtly. The Moors luxd the vaii> 
 toge ground. Some showered darts and arrows from the 
 clefts of the rocks ; others fought, hand to hand, on the plain ; 
 while tlieir cavalry, rapid as lightning in their movements) 
 
 II 
 
 m 
 
 
 %. 
 
<l|pllWI>>tH» H » l| I I M I 
 
 ii h ii Kn iMi m i i i i i W i f " J w w weagw 
 
 296 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBANADA. 
 
 carried havoc into the niidfit of the Christian forces. Tlie 
 Marquis de Villena, v.ith his brother, Don Alonzo dc Pacheco, 
 at the first onset of the Moors, spiuTcd into the hottest of the 
 light. They had scarce entered, when Don Alonzo was 
 struck lifeless from his horse, before the eyes of his brother. 
 Estevau de Suzon, a gallant captain, fell, fighting bravely by 
 the side of the marquis ; who remained M'ith his chamberlain 
 Solier, and a handful of knights, surrounded by the enemy. 
 Several cavaliers, from other parts of the army, hastened to 
 their assistance ; when King 1^'erdinand, seeing that the Moors 
 had the vantage grounu, and that the Christians were suffering 
 severely, gave signal for retreat. The marquis obeyed slowly 
 and reluctantly ; for his heart was full of grief and rage at 
 the death of his brother. As he was retiring, he beheld his 
 faithful chamberlain, Solier, defending himself bravely against 
 six Moors. The marquis turned, and rushed to his rescue. 
 He killed two of the enemy with his own hand, and put the 
 rest to flight. One of the Moors, however, in retreating, rose 
 in his stirrups, and, hurling his lance ot the marquis, wounded 
 him in the right arm, and crippled him for life. 
 
 In consequence of this wound, the marquis was ever after 
 obliged to write his signature with his left hand, though 
 capable of managing his lance with his right. The queen 
 demanded one day of him why he had adventured his life for 
 that of a domestic. " Does not your majesty think," replied 
 he, " that I ought to risk one life for him, who would have 
 adventured three for me, had he possessed them?" The 
 queen was charmed with the magnanimity of the reply ; and 
 often quoted the marquis, as setting an heroic example to the 
 'chivalry of the age. 
 
 Such was one of the many ambuscades concerted byMuza; 
 nor did he hesitate, at times, to present a bold front to the 
 Christian forces, and to defy them in the open field. King 
 Ferdinand soon perceived, however, that the Moors seldom 
 provoked a battle without having the advantage of the 
 •gi'ound ; and that, though the Christians generally appeared 
 to have the victory, they suffered the greatest loss ; for re- 
 treating was a part of the Moorish systi'm, by which they 
 would draw their ])ur8uers into confusion, and then turn u])on 
 them with a more violent and fatal attack, lie commanded 
 his captains, therefore, to decline nil challenges to skirmish, 
 and to pursue a secure system of destruction ; ravaging the 
 
 ings 
 mori 
 ment' 
 distai 
 eyes 
 cattle 
 forty 
 \V 
 Moori 
 attire, 
 tance. 
 from 
 
MaMaWMa 
 
 FATE or THK CASTLE OF UOMA. 
 
 297 
 
 countiy, and doiiis: all possible injury to the enemy, witU; 
 (flight risk to themselves. 
 
 CIIAPTEll LXXXIV. 
 
 About two leagues from Granada, on an eminence com- 
 manding an extensive; view of the vega, stood the strong 
 Moorish castle of ll<mia ; a great place of refuge and security. 
 Hither th" neighbouring peasantry drove their flocks and 
 herds, and hurried with tlieir most precious cilbcts, on the 
 irruption of a Christian force ; and any foraging or skinnish- 
 ing party from Grancula, on being intercepted in their return, 
 threw themselves into llonia, manned its embattled towers, 
 and set the enemy at defiance. The garrison were accustomed 
 to these sudden claims upon tlieir ])rotection ; to have parties 
 of Moors clattering up to their gates, so hotly pursued, that 
 there was barely time to throw open the portal, receive them 
 within, and shut out their pursuers : while the Christian cava- 
 liers had many a time reined in their panting steeds at the 
 very entrance of the barbican, and retired, cursing the strong 
 walls of Roma, that robbed them of their prey. 
 
 The late ravages of Ferdinand, and the continual skirmish- 
 ings in the vega, had roused the vigilance of the castle. One 
 morning early, as the sentinels kept watch upon the battle- 
 ments, they beheld a cloud of dust advancing rapidly from a 
 distance. Tiu'bans and Moorish weapons soon caught their 
 eyes ; and as the whole approached, they descried a drove of 
 cottlc, urged on in great haste, and conveyed by one hundred and 
 forty Moors, who led with them two Cliristian captives in chains. 
 
 When the cavalgada had arrived near to the castle, a 
 Moorish cavalier of noble and commanding mien, and splendid 
 attire, rode up to the foot of the tower, and entreated admit- 
 tance. He stated, that they were returning with rich booty, 
 from a foray into the lands of the Christians ; but that the 
 enemy was on their traces, and they feared to be overtoken 
 before they could reach Granada. The sentinels descended 
 in all haste, and flung open the gates. The long cavalgada 
 defiled into the courts of the castle, which were soon filled 
 with lowing ami bleating flocks and herds, with neighing and 
 stamping steeds, and witli fierce-looking Moors from the moun- 
 tains. The cavalier, who had asked admission, was the chiet 
 of the party ; he was somewhat advanced in life, of a lofty 
 
 i 
 
 n 
 
 ) { 
 
 i 
 
 < n 
 
 ( : 
 
 'it, 
 
 1 ' !| 
 
'~«**~>4k>>idlN.«VI>>M«H«MHMMMMMIM 
 
 298 
 
 THE COXQUEST OF OBANADA. 
 
 and gallant bearing, and had with him a son, a young maa 
 of great fire and spirit. Close by them followed the two 
 Christian captives, with looks cast down and disconsolate. 
 
 The soldiers of the garrison had roused themselves from 
 their sleep, and were busily occupied attending to the cattle, 
 ■which crowded the courts ; while the foraging party distri- 
 buted themselves about the castle, to seek refreshment or 
 repose. Suddenly a shout arose, that was echoed from court- 
 yard, and hall, and battlements. The garrison, astonished 
 and bewildered, would have rushed to their arms, but found 
 themselves, almost before they could make resistance, com- 
 pletely in the power of an enemy. 
 
 The pretended foraging party consisted of Mudexares, Moora 
 tributary to the Christians; and the commanders were the 
 Prince Cidi Yahye, and his son, Alnayer. They had has- 
 tened from the mountains, with this small force, to aid the 
 Catholic sovereigns during the summer's campaign ; and they 
 had concerted to surprise that important castle, and present it 
 to King Ferdinand, as a gage of their faith and the first fruits 
 of theii' devotion. 
 
 The politic monarch overwhelmed his new converts and 
 allies with favours and distinctions, in return for this import- 
 ant acquisition ; but he took care to despatch a strong force 
 of veterans, and genuine Christian troops to man the fortress. 
 
 As to the Moors who had composed the garrison, Cidi 
 Yahye remembered that they were his coimtiymen, and could 
 not prevail upon himself to deliver them into Christian bond- 
 age. He set them at liberty, and permitted them to repair to 
 Granada ; " a proof," says the pious Agapida, " that his con- 
 version was not entirely consummated, but that there were 
 still some lingerings of the infidel in his heart." His lenity 
 was far from procuring him indulgence in the opinions of his 
 countrymen : on the contrary, the inhabitants of Granada, 
 when they learned from the liberated garrifir,, ♦he stratagem 
 by which Roma had been captured, cursed Cidi Yahye for a 
 traitor, and the garrison joined in the malediction. 
 
 But the indignation of the people of Granada was destined 
 to be aroused to tenfold violence. The old warrior, Muley 
 Abdalla El Zagal, had retired to his little mountain tenitory, 
 and for a short time endeavoured to console himself with his 
 petty title of King of Andaraxa. Ho soon grew impatient, 
 Aowever, of the quiet and inaction of his mimic kingdom. His 
 
HOW BOABOIL £L CHICO TOOK IHS FIELD. 
 
 299 
 
 man 
 
 i two 
 
 from 
 cattle, 
 distri- 
 ent or 
 court- 
 nished 
 I found 
 1, com- 
 
 , Moors 
 ere ibe 
 ad ha»- 
 aid the 
 indthey 
 resent it 
 :8t fruits 
 
 erts and 
 
 i import- 
 force 
 ortress. 
 
 on, Cidi 
 
 ind could 
 
 tan bond- 
 repair to 
 his cou- 
 
 lere were 
 is lenity 
 
 Ions of his 
 Granada, 
 gtratago^n 
 lye for a 
 
 destined 
 or, Muley 
 
 territory, 
 f with his 
 impatient, 
 dom. Hi0 
 
 fierce spirit was exasperated by being shut up within such 
 narrow limits j and his hatred rose to downright fury against 
 Boabdil, whom he considered as the cause of his downfal. 
 When tidings were brought him, that Ferdinand was laying 
 waste the vcga, he took a sudden resolution : assembling the 
 whole disposable force of his kingdom, which amounted but 
 to two hundred men, he descended from the Alpuxarras, and 
 sought the Christian camp ; content to serve as vassal to the 
 cnemj' of his faith and his nation, so that he might sec Gran- 
 ada wrested from the sway of his nephew. 
 
 In his blind passion, the old wrathful monarch injured his 
 own cause, and strengthened that of his adversary. The 
 Moors of Granada had been clamorous in his praise, extolling 
 him as a victim to his patriotism, and had refused to believe 
 all reports of his treaty with the Christians ; but when they 
 beheld from the walls of the city his banner mingling with the 
 banners of the unbelievers, and arrayed against his late people, 
 and the capital he had commanded, they broke forth into 
 curses and revilings, and heaped all kinds of stigmas upon his 
 name. 
 
 Their next emotion was in favour of Boabdil. They 
 gathered under the walls of the Alhambra, and hailed him as 
 fiieir only hope, as the sole dependence of the country. Bo- 
 abdil could scarcely believe his senses, when he heard his 
 name mingled with praises and greeted with acclamations. 
 Encouraged by this unexpected gleam of popularity, he ven- 
 tured forth from his retreat, and mus received with rapture. 
 All his past errors were attributed to the hardships of his 
 fortune, and the usurpation of his tyrant uncle, and whatever 
 breath the populace could spaie from uttering curses on £1 
 Zagal was expended in shouts in honuur of £1 Chico. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXV. 
 
 Fob thirty days had the vcga been overrun by the Christian 
 forces, and that vast plain, lately so luxuriant and beautiful, 
 was become a wide scene of desolation. The destroying army 
 havir;; accomplished its task, passed over th- bridge of Pinos, 
 and wound up into the mountains, on thr vay to Cordova ; 
 bearing away the spoils of towns and villages, and driving off 
 flocks and herds, in long dusty columns. The sound of the 
 last Christian tnmipet died away along the side of the moun- 
 
 X 2 
 
 .1 ' 
 
 ■I 
 
 ill 
 
 '1' 
 
 r 
 
mii:>».ii •■•.. I... I ..ti !'.• wmiKitm'fveiifmmmm 
 
 ^00 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 tain of Elvira, and not a liostlc squadron was seen glistoning^ 
 in the mournful fields of the vcga. 
 
 ' The eyes of Boabdil ol Chico were at length opened to the- 
 real policy of King Ferdinand ; and he saw, that he had no 
 longer anything to depend upon, than the valour of his arm. 
 No time was to be lost, in hastening to countcraet the effect 
 of the late Christian ravage, and in opening the channel for 
 distant supplies to Granada. 
 
 Scarcely had the retiring sq\iadron of Ferdinand disappeared 
 among the mountains, than Boabdil buckled on his armour, 
 sullied forth from the Alhambra, and prepared to take the 
 field. When the populace bchcnd him actually in arms 
 against his late ally, both parties thronged with zeal to his 
 standard. The hardy inhabitants also of the Sierra Nevada, 
 or chain of snoAV-capped mountains, which rise above Granada, 
 descended fi*om their heights, and hastened into the city 
 gates, to proffer their devotion to their youthful king. The 
 great square of the vivarrambla shone with the proud array 
 of legions of cavalry, decked with tlie colours and devices of 
 the most ancient Moorish fiimilics, and marshalled forth by 
 the patriot Muza to follow the king to battle. 
 
 It was on the 15th of June that Boabdil once more issued 
 out from the gates of Granada on a martial enterprise. A 
 few leagues from the city, within full view of it, and at the 
 entrance of the Alpuxaira mountains, stood the powerful 
 castle of Alhendin. It was built on an eminence, rising from 
 the midst of a small town, and commanding a gi'eat part of 
 the vcga, and the main road to the rich valleys of the 
 Alpuxarras. The castle was commanded by a valiant Christian 
 caA'alier, named Jlendo de Quexada, and garrisoned by two 
 lumdrod and fifty men, all seasoned and experienced waiTiors. 
 It was a continual thorn in the side of Granada. The 
 labotu'crs of the vcga were swept from their fields by its 
 hardy soldiers, convoys were cut off on the passes of the 
 mountains ; and, as the garrison commanded a full view of 
 the gates of the city, no band of merchants could venture 
 forth on their needful journeys, without being swooped up by 
 the war hawks of Alhendin. 
 
 It was against this important fortress that Boabdil first led 
 his troops. For six days and nights the fortress was closely 
 besieged. The alcayde and his vetenin garrison defended 
 themselves valiantly ; but they were exhausted by fatigue and 
 
JtOW BOABDtt. EL CHICO TOOK tltfi FIELD. 
 
 (}01 
 
 
 toning 
 
 to the 
 had no 
 is arm. 
 ; effect 
 inel for 
 
 ppeared 
 armour, 
 oke the 
 in arms 
 il to hi» 
 Nevada, 
 jranada, 
 the city 
 »g. The 
 >ud array 
 evices of 
 forth by 
 
 )re issued 
 n'ise. A 
 nA at the 
 powerful 
 ising from 
 it part of 
 ^8 of the 
 Christian 
 jd by two 
 I wanrioTS. 
 tda. The 
 Ids by its 
 ics of the 
 dl view of 
 venture 
 
 ,ped up by 
 
 111 first led 
 vas closely 
 defended 
 fatigue and 
 
 constant watchfulness ; for the Moors, being continually 
 relieved by fresh troops from Granada, kept up an unremitted 
 and vigorous attack. Twice the barbican was forced, and 
 twice the assailants were driven forth headlong with excessive 
 loss. The garrison, however, was diminished in number by 
 the killed and wounded : there were no longer soldiers sufH- 
 cient to man the walls and gateway. The brave alcayde Mas 
 compelled to retire, with his surviving force, to the keep of the 
 castle, in which he continued to make a desperate resist- 
 ance. 
 
 The Moors now approached the foot of the tower, under 
 shelter of wooden skreens, covered with wet hides, to ward 
 off missiles and combustibles. They went to work vigorously 
 to undermine the tower, placing props of wood under the 
 foundations, to be afterwards set on fire, so as to give the 
 besiegers time to escape before the edifice should fall. Some 
 of the Moors plied their crossbows and arquebuses to defend 
 the workmen, and to drive the Christians from the wall, while 
 tiie latter showered down stones and darts, and melted pitch, 
 ^nd flaming combustibles, on the miners. 
 
 The brave Mendo de Quexada had cast many an anxioud 
 eye across the vega, in hopes of seeing some Christian force 
 hastening to his assistance. Not a gleam of spear or helm 
 was to be descried ; for no one had dreamed of this sudden 
 irruption of the Moors. The alcayde saw his bravest men 
 dead or wounded around him, Avhile the remainder were sink- 
 ing with watchfulness and fatigue. In defiance of all opposi- 
 tion, the Moors had accomplished their mine ; the fire was 
 brought before the walls, that was to be applied to the 
 etauchions. in ease the garrison persisted in defence ; and in 
 a little while the tower woidd crumble beneath him, and be 
 rent and hurled in ruins to the plain. At the very last 
 moment, and not till then, the brave alcayde made the signal 
 of surrender. He mar(!hcd forth with the remnant of his 
 veteran garrison, who were all made prisoners. Immediately 
 Boabdil ordered the avails of the fortress to be razed, and fire 
 to be applied to the stanchions, that the place might never 
 again become a strong-hold to the Christians, and a scourge 
 to Granada. 
 
 The alcayde and his fellow captives were passing in dejected 
 convoy across the vega, when they heard a tremendous 
 crash behind them. Turning to look upon their late for- 
 tress, they beheld nothing biit a heap of tumbling ruins, and 
 
 :m 
 
 ■J 
 
 i 
 
 i ■ 
 t 
 
 ■!'( 
 
 I 
 
 'HI 
 
 5'// I! 
 
 m 
 
 
Lf /: ■ "Ut" ' i '*i''' 
 
 l l .,. ' , i 8M i ;. » ln|.in ' IJ' nfr fWrtli 
 
 302 
 
 TBE CONQTTEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 a vast column of smoke and dust, where once had stood the 
 lofty tower of Alhendin. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXVI. 
 
 BoABDiL EL Chico followed up his success by capturing the 
 two fortresses of Marchcna and Bulduy ; he sent his alfaquis 
 in every direction to proclaim a holy war, and to summon all 
 true Moslems, of town or castle, mountain or valley* to saddle 
 steed, and buckle on armour, and hasten to the standard of 
 the faith. The tidings spread far and wide, that Eoabdil el 
 Chico was once more in the field, and victorious. The Moor» 
 of various places, dazzled by this gleam of success, hastened 
 to throw off their sworn allegiance to the Castilian crown, 
 and to elevate the standard of Boabdil ; and the youthful 
 monarch flattered himself, that the whole kingdom was oq 
 the point of returning to its allegiance. 
 
 The fiery cavaliers of Granada we o eager to renew those 
 forays into the Christian lands, in v.hich they had formerly 
 delighted. A number of them therefore concerted an irrup- 
 tion to the north into the territory of Jaen, to harass the 
 country about Quezada. They had heard of a rich convoy of 
 merchants and wealthy travellers on the way to the city of 
 Baeza ; and they anticipated a glorious conclusion to their 
 foray in capturing this convoy. 
 
 Assembling a number of horsemen, lightly armed, and 
 fleetly mounted, and one hundred foot soldiers, these hardy 
 cavaliers issued forth by night from Granada, made their way 
 in silence through the defiles of the moimtains, crossed the 
 frontier without opposition, and suddenly appeared, as if 
 fallen from the clouds, in the very heart of the Christian country. 
 
 The mountainous frontier, which separates Granada from 
 Ja«;n, was at this time under the Count de Tendilla, the same 
 veteran who had distinguished himself by his vigilance and 
 sagacity, when commanding the fortress of Alhama. He held 
 his head quarters at the city of Alcala la Real, in its impreg- 
 nable fortress, perched high among the mountains, about six 
 leagues from Granada, and predominating over all the frontier. 
 From this cloud-capt hold among the rocks, he kept an eagle 
 eve upon Granada, and had his scouts and spies in all direc- 
 tions ; so that a crow could not fly over the border without 
 his knowledge. 
 
 His fortress was a place of refuge for the Christian captives* 
 
EXPLOIT OF THE COUNT DE TENDILLA. 
 
 308 
 
 ^:^ 
 
 who escaped by night from the Moorish dungeons of Granada. 
 Often, however, they missed their way in the defiles of the 
 moimtains ; and, wandering about bewildered, either repaired 
 by mistake to some Moorish town, or were discovered and 
 retaken at daylight by the enemy. To prevent these acci- 
 dents, the count had a tower built at his own expense, on the 
 top of one of the heights near Alcala, which commanded a 
 view of the vega, and the country aroimd. Here he kept a 
 light blazing throughout the night, as a beacon for all 
 Christian fugitives, to guide them to a place of safety. 
 
 The count was aroused one night from his repose by shouts 
 and cries, which came up from the town, and approached the 
 castle walls. " To arms ! to arms ! the Moor is over the 
 border ! " was the cry. A Christian soldier, pale and ema> 
 elated, and who still bore traces of the Moorish chains, was 
 broi^ht before the count. He had been taken as guide by 
 the Moorish cavaliers, who had sallied from Granada, but had 
 escaped from them among the mountains ; and, after much 
 wandering, had found his way to Alcala by the signal fire. 
 
 Notwithstanding the bustle and agitation of the moment, 
 the Count de Tendilla listened calmly and attentively to the 
 account of the fugitive, and questioned him minutely as to 
 the time of departure of the Moors, and the direction and 
 rapidity of their march. He saw that it was too late to 
 prevent their incursion and ravage, but he determined to 
 await them, and give them a warm reception on their return* 
 His soldiers were always on the alert, and ready to take the 
 field at a moment's warning. Choosing one hundred and fifty 
 lancers, hardy and valiant men, well disciplined, and well 
 seasoned, as indeed, were all his troops, he issued forth quietly 
 before break of day, and, descending through the defiles of 
 the mountains, stationed his little force in ambush in a deep 
 barranca, or dry channel of a torrent, near Barzina, three 
 leagues only from Granada, on the road by which the 
 marauders would have to return. In the meantime he sent 
 scouts to post themselves upon different heights, and look out 
 for the approach of the enemy. 
 
 All day they remained concealed in the ravine, and for a 
 great part of the following night ; not a turban, however, was 
 to be seen, excepting now and then a peasant returing from 
 his labour, or a solitary muleteer hastening towards Granada. 
 The cavaliers of the count began to grow restless and 
 
 
 
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 Ik 
 
 .m 
 
 ... '■ 
 
f.ldStSSK^tiiKf^^jlUSOXlit 
 
 304 
 
 TIIK CONQUEST OF OKANADA. 
 
 i! 
 
 § 
 
 impatient; they feared that the enemy mij^ht have taken 
 some other route, or mii^ht liave received intelligence of their 
 ambuscade ; and they ui<;ed him to abandon the enterprise, 
 and return to Alcala. " We arc here," said they, "almost 
 at the gates of the Moorish capital ; our movements may have 
 been descried, and, before we arc aware, Granada may pour 
 forth its legions of swift cavalry, and crush us with an 
 overwhelniitig force." The Count de Tendilla, however, per- 
 sisted in remaining until his scouts should come in. About 
 two hours before daybreak there were signal fires on certain 
 Moorish watehtowers of the mountains. While they were 
 regarding these with anxiety, the scouts came hurrying into 
 the ravine. " The Moors are approaching," said they ; " we 
 have reconnoitred them near at hand. They are between one 
 and two hundred strong, but encumbered with many prisoners 
 and much booty." The Christian cavaliers laid their ears to 
 the ground, and heard the distant tramp of horses, and the 
 tread of foot soldiers. They mounted their horses, braced 
 their shields, couched their lances, and drew near to the 
 entrance of the ravine where it opened upon the road. 
 
 The Moors had succeeded in waylaying and surprising the 
 Christian convoy on its way to liaeza. They had captured a 
 great number of prisoners, male and female, with great store 
 of gold and jewels, and sumpter mules laden with rich mer- 
 chandise. With these they had made a forced march over 
 the dangerous parts of the mountains, but now, being so near 
 to Granada, they fancied themselves in perfect security. 
 They loitered along the road, therefore, irregularly and 
 slowly, some singing, others laughing and exulting at having 
 eluded the boasted vigilance of the Count de Tendilla ; while 
 ever and anon was heard the plaint of some female captive 
 bewailing the jeopardy of her honour, and the heavy sighing 
 of the merchant at beholding his property in the grasp of 
 ruthless spoilers. 
 
 The Count de Tendilla waited until some of the escort had 
 passed the ravine ; then, giving the signal for assault, his 
 cavaliers set up loud shouts and cries, and charged fiu-iously 
 into the centre of the foe. The obscurity of the place and 
 the hour added to the terrors of the surprise. The Moors 
 were thrown into confusion. Some rallied, fought despe- 
 ratelv, and fell covered with wounds, Thirtv-six were killed, 
 and fifty-five were made prisoners ; the rest, under cover of 
 
i ' l *-ltli,a. i l i i r« 
 
 EXPLOIXIOX OF BOABDIL AGAINST SALODRENA. 305 
 
 the dorkncfw, made their escape to the rocks and defiles of 
 the mountains. The good count unbound the prisoners, f^lnd* 
 dening the hearts of the merchants by restoring to them 
 their merchandise ; the female captives, also, regained the 
 jewels of which they had been despoiled, excepting such as 
 had been lost beyond recovery. Forty-five saddle horses of 
 the choice Barbary bi'ced remained, as captured spoils of the 
 Moors, together with costly armour and booty of varicms 
 kinds. Having collected everything in haste, and arranged 
 his cavalgada, the count urged his way with all speed for 
 Alcala la Real, lest he should be pursued and overtaken by 
 the Moors of Granada. As he wound up the steep ascent to 
 his mountain city, the inhabitants poured forth to meet him 
 with shouts of joy. This triumph was doubly enhanced by 
 being received at the gates of the city by his wife, the 
 daughter of the Marquis of Villena, a lady of distinguished 
 merit, whom he had not seen for two years, that he had been 
 separated from his home by the arduous duties of these iron wars. 
 
 ilii 
 
 H (i 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXVII. 
 
 . King Boabdil foimd that his diminished territory was too 
 closely overlooked by Christian fortresses, like Alcala la Real, 
 and too strictly watched by ^^gilant alcaydes, like the Count 
 of Tendilla, to be able to maintain itself by internal resoiurces. 
 His foraging expeditions were liable to be intercepted and 
 defeated ; while the ravage of the vega had swept off every- 
 thing on which the city depended for future sustenance. Ho 
 felt the want of a seaport, through which, as formerly, he 
 might keep open a communication ^vith Africa, and obtain 
 reinforcements and supplies from beyond the seas. All the 
 ports and harbours were in the hands of the Christians, and 
 Granada and its remnant of dependent territory were com- 
 pletely landlocked. 
 
 In this emergency, the attention of Boabdil was called by 
 circumstances to the seaport of Salobreiia. This redoubtable 
 town has already been mentioned in this chronicle as a place 
 deemed impregnable by the Moors; insomuch that their kings 
 were accustomed, in time of peril, to keep their treasures 
 in its citadel. It was situate on a high rocky hill, 
 dividing one of those rich little vegas, or plains, which 
 lie open to the Mediterranean, but run, like deep greea 
 
 * m 
 
 m 
 
 I') 
 
 i 
 
 
mmt 
 
 306 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 ii 
 
 bays, into the stem bosoms of the mountains. The vcga was 
 covered with beautiful vegetation ; with rice and cotton, with 
 groves of oron^s, citrons, figs, and mulberries, and with 
 gardens enclosed by hedges of reeds, of aloes, and the Indian 
 fig. Running streams of cool water, from the springs and 
 snows of the Sierra Nevada, kept this delightful valley con- 
 tinually fresh and verdant ; while it was almost locked up by 
 mountain barriers and lofty promontories that stretched far 
 into the sea. 
 
 Through the centre of this rich vega the rock of Salo- 
 brcna reared its rugged back, nearly dividing the plain, and 
 advancing to the margin of the sea, with just a strip of sandy 
 beach at its foot, laved by the blue waves of the Mediter- 
 ranean. 
 
 The to^Ti covered the ridge and sides of the rocky hill, and 
 was fortified by strong walk and towers, while on the highest 
 and most precipitous part stood the citadel, a huge castle that 
 seemed to form a part of tlie livuig rock, the massive ruins of 
 which, at the present day, attract the gaze of the traveller, as 
 he winds his way far below along the road which passes 
 through the vega. 
 
 This important fortress had hccn intrusted to the command 
 of Don Francisco Rumirez de Madrid, captain general of the 
 artillery, and the most scientific of all the Spanish leaders. 
 That experienced veteran, however, was with the king at 
 C!ordova. having left a valiant cavalier as alcayde of the place. 
 
 Boabdil el Chico had full information of the state of the 
 garrison and the absence of its commander. Putting himself 
 at the head of a powerful force, therefore, he departed from 
 Qranadu, and made a rapid march through the mountains, 
 hoping, by this sudden movement, j seize ujMn Salobrefia 
 before King Ferdinand could come to its assist^mcc. 
 
 The inhabitants of Salobrena were Mudexares, or Moors, 
 who had sworn allegiance to the Christians. Still, when they 
 heard the sound of the Moorish drums and trumix'ts, and 
 beheld the squadrons of their countrymen advancing across 
 the vega, their hearts yearned towards the standard uf their 
 nation and t^cir faith. A tumult arose in the place, llic popu- 
 lace shouted the name of Uoabdil el Chico, and, throvruig 
 open the gates, admitted him within the walls. 
 
 The (/hristian garrison was too few in numl)er to contend 
 for thi' possession of the town. They retreated to the citadel 
 
EXPEDITION OF BOABDIL AGAINST SALOBKEX.V. 
 
 307 
 
 li? 
 
 and shut themselves up within its massive walls, which were 
 considered impregnable. Here they maintained a desjK'rato 
 defence, hoping to hold out until succour should arrive from 
 the neighbouring fortresses. 
 
 The tidings that Siilobreua wai invested by the Moorish 
 king, spread along the sea coast, and filled the Christians 
 with alarm. Don Francisco Enriques, uncle of the king, 
 commanded the city of \e\oz Malaga, about twelve leagues 
 distant, but separated by ranges of those vast rocky moun- 
 tains which aie piled along the Mediterranean, and tower in 
 steep promontories and precipices above its waves. 
 
 Don Francisco summoned the alcaydes of his district to 
 hasten with him to the relief of this important fortress. A 
 number of cavaliers and their retainers answered to his call, 
 among whom was Fernando Perez del Pulgar, sumanied El 
 de las Ilazanas, (he of the exploits) the same who had signal- 
 ized himself in a foray by elevating a handkerchief on a lance 
 for a biiuner, and leading on his disheartened comrades to 
 victory. As soon as Don Francisco beheld a little band 
 collected round him, he set out with all s{)eed for Salobrena. 
 The march was rugged and severe ; climbing and descending 
 immense mountains, and sometimes winding along the edgo 
 of giddy precipices, with the surges of the sea raging far 
 below. When Don Francisco arrived with his fi)llo\ver8 at 
 the lofty promontory that stretches along one side of the 
 little vega of StUobrena, he looked do\>'n with sorrow and 
 anxiety upon a Moorish army of great force encamped at the 
 foot of the fortress ; while Moorish banners on various parts 
 of the wall showed that the town was already in possession of 
 the infidels. A solitary Christiim staitdiird alone flouted oa 
 the top of the ca.stlc keep, indicating tliat the brave garrisoa 
 were hemmed up in their rock-built citadel. 
 
 Don Francisco found it im|M>ssible, with his snmll force, to 
 make any impression on the camp of the Moors, or to get to 
 the relief of the cattle. He stationed his little band \i\Hm a 
 rocky height near the sea, where they were safe from the 
 assaults of the enemy. The sight of his friendly banner 
 waving in their neighbourhood cheered the heart of the 
 garrison, and he conveyed to them assurance of s|)ecdy 
 succour from the king. In the meantime, Fenuiiido I'erea 
 del Pulgar, who always burned to distinguish himself by bold 
 and striking exploits, in the course of a prowUng exiH>ditioii 
 along the borders of tlic Moorish ramp, remarked a postern 
 
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 i It! 
 
 i^ 
 
 ,i. 
 
 if 
 
 
 I i 
 
 
308 
 
 THE CONQlTESt OP GBANADA, 
 
 gate of the castle openinj^ upon the steep part of the rocky 
 hill, which looked towardn the moiuitains. A sadden thought 
 flashed upon the daring mind of Pulgar. " Who will follow 
 my banner," said he, '* and make a dash for yonder postern r" 
 A bold proposition, in time of warfare, never wants for bold 
 spirits to accept it. Seventy resolute men immediately 
 stepped forward. Pulgar put himself at their head. They 
 cut their way suddenly through a weak part of the camp, 
 fought up to the gate, which was eagerly thrown open to 
 receive them, and succeeded in effecting their entrance into 
 tlic fortress before the alarm of their attempt bad spread 
 through the Moorish army. 
 
 The garrison was rou.sed to new spirit by this unlooked-for 
 reinforcement, and were enabled to make a more vigorous 
 resistance. The Moors had intelligence, however, that there 
 was a great scarcity of water in the castle ; and they exulted 
 hi the idea that this additional number of warriors wovdd 
 soon exhaust the cisterns, and compel them to surrender. 
 When Pulgar heard of this hope entertained by the enemy, 
 he caused a bucket of water to be lowered from the battle* 
 mcnts, and threw a silver cup in bravado to the Moors. 
 
 The situation of the garrison, however, was daily growing 
 more and more critical. They suffered greatly from thirst ; 
 while, to tantalize them in their sufferings, they beheld 
 limpid streams winding in abundance through the green plain 
 below them. 'J'hey began to fear that all succour would 
 arrive too late, Mhen one day they beheld a little squadron of 
 vessels far at sea, but standing towards the shore. There 
 was some doubt at first whether it might not be a hostile 
 armament from Africa ; but, as it approached, they descried, 
 to their great joy, the banner of Castile. 
 
 It was a reinforcement, brought in idl haste by the governor 
 of the fortress, Don Francisco Kamirez. The squadron 
 «nehori>d at a steep rocky island, which rises from the very 
 margin of the smooth sandy l)each, directly in front of the 
 rock of Salobreua, and stretches out into the sea. On this 
 island llamirez landed his men, and was as strongly posted m 
 if in a fortress. His force was too scanty to attempt a battle ; 
 but he assisted to harass and distract the iHJseigers. When- 
 ever king Hoabdil made an attack upon wAe fortress, his camp 
 uras assailed, on one side by the troops of llamirez, who 
 landed from their island, and, on another, by those of Don 
 Francisco Enriquez, who swept down from their rock ; wUiU: 
 
'f 
 
 RETURN OF BOABDIL TO GRANADA. 
 
 809 
 
 Fernando del Pulgar kept up a fierce defence from every 
 tower and battlement of the castle. ITie attention of the 
 Moorish king was diverted, also, for a time, by an ineft'ectual 
 attempt to relieve the little port of Adra, tliat had recently 
 declared in his favour, but had been recaptured for the Chris, 
 tians by Cidi Yahyc and his son Alnayer. 'i'hus the unlucky 
 Eoabdil, bewildered on eveiy hand, lost all the advantiige that 
 he had gained by his rapid march from Granada. While lie was 
 yet besieging the obstinate citadel, tidings were brought him, 
 that King Ferdinand was in full march, with a powerful host, 
 to its assistance. There was no time for further delay. He 
 made a furious attack, with all his forces, upon the castle, but 
 was again repulsed by Pulgar and his coadjutors ; when, 
 abandoning the siege in despair, he retreated with his army, 
 lest King Ferdinand shoidd got between him and his capital. 
 On his way back to Granada, however, he in some sort con^ 
 soled himself for his late disappointment, by overrunning a 
 part of the territories and ])osses>iions lately assigned to his 
 uncle El Zagal, and to Cidi Yahye. 1 le defeated their al- 
 caydes, destroyed several of their fortresses, burnt their 
 villages ; and, leaving the country behind him, reeking and 
 smoking with V's vengeance, returned, with considerable 
 booty, to repose himself within the walls of the Alhambra. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXVHI. 
 
 Scarcely had Boabdil ensconced himself in his capital, 
 when King Ferdinand, at the head of seven thousand horse* 
 and twenty thousand foot, again ajjpcared in the vega. Ho 
 had set out in all haste from Cordo^a, to the relief of Salo- 
 breiia ; but hearing on his march, that the siege was raised, ho 
 turned with his army, to make a second ravage round tho 
 walls of devoted Granada. His present forage lasted fifteen 
 days, in the course of which, everything that had escaped his 
 former desolating visit was so completely destroyed, that 
 scarcely a green thing, or a living animal, was left on the face 
 of the land. The M(M)r8 sallied frequently, and fouglit des|)e- 
 rately in defence of tlieir fields : but the work of destruction 
 was accomplished, and (irunada, once the queen of gardens, 
 was left surrounded by a desert. 
 
 From hence Ferdinand march(>d to crush a conspiracy, 
 which had lately manifested itself in the cities of (iiuidix, 
 Ba«i and Almeria. These recently conquered places had 
 
 f 
 
 * * i M 
 
 t 
 
 
 
 •f m 
 
 % 
 
 \'i 
 
 'It: 
 
 m 
 i 
 
t u rn , f i H o» -"tf I [ g d i ir 1 rMMfTi r ri 
 
 310 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 entered into secret correspondence with King Boabdil, inviting 
 him to march to their gates, promising to rise upon the 
 Christian garrisons, seize upon the citadels, and surrender 
 themselves into his power. The Marquis of Villena had 
 wceived notice of the conspiracy, and suddenly thrown him- 
 self, with a large force, into Gaudix. Under pretence of 
 making a review of the inhabitants, he made them sally forth 
 into tlie fields before the city. When the whole Moorish 
 population, capable of bearing arms, was thus without the 
 wjjls, he ordered the gates to be closed. He then permitted 
 thcni to enter two by two, and three by three, and to take 
 forth their wives ana children, and effects. The houseless 
 Moors were fain to make themselves temporary hovels, in the 
 gardens and orchards about the city. They were clamorous in 
 their complaints at being thus excluded from their homes ; but 
 were told, they must wait with patience, until the charges 
 against them could be investigated, and the pleasure of the 
 king be knovsTi.* 
 
 Wlicn Ferdinand arrived at Guadix, he found the unhappy 
 Moors in their cabins, among the orchards. They complained 
 bitterly of the deception that had been practised upon them, 
 and implored permission to return into the city, and live 
 peaceably in their dwellings, as had been promised them in 
 their iirticles of capitulation. 
 
 King Ferdinand listened graciously to their complaints. 
 *' My friends," said he, in reply, " I am informed, that there 
 4ias been a conspiracy among yon, to kill my alcayde and 
 garrison, and to take part with my enemy, the King of Gra- 
 nada. I shall make a thorough investigation of this conspi- 
 iacy. Those among you, who shall be proved innocent, shall 
 he restored to their dwellings ; but the guilty shall incur the 
 penalty of their offences. As I wish, however, to proceed 
 with mercy as well as justice, I now give yoti your choice, 
 either to depart at once, without further question, going wher- 
 ever you please, and taking with you your families and effects, 
 under an assurance of safety, or to deliver up those who are 
 guilty : not one of whom, I give you my word, shall escape 
 punishment." 
 
 • When the people of Guadix heard this, they communeil 
 among theniselvcH. " and. as most of them," says the worthy 
 Agapida, " were either culpable, or feared to l)e considered so, 
 they accepted the alternative, and departed Korrowfully. they, 
 *^Zurita, \W xx. cap. 85. Curs de loa PtUcioH, cap. 97. 
 
 8eize< 
 
 mouar 
 
 old kii 
 
 lesson 
 
 severe 
 
 towns 
 
 grante 
 
 safe 
 
 Ferdi'ii 
 
FATE OF £L ZAGAL. 
 
 311 
 
 iviting 
 n the 
 render 
 a had 
 n him- 
 nce of 
 ^ forth 
 [oorish 
 )ut the 
 •mitted 
 to take 
 »uselc88 
 , in the 
 )rou8 in 
 M ; but 
 charges 
 e of the 
 
 mhappy 
 iplained 
 )n them, 
 ind live 
 them in 
 
 iiplaints. 
 at there 
 lyde and 
 of Gra- 
 conspi- 
 :'nt, shall 
 nour the 
 proceed 
 ir choice, 
 inj; wher- 
 a cttccts, 
 ' who are 
 [\U escape 
 
 oTnniune<l 
 ic worthy 
 idovcd 8o, 
 ally, they, 
 97. 
 
 and their wives, and their little ones." " Thus," in the words 
 of thi.t excellent and contempoi'ary historian, Andres Uernaldcs, 
 coninionly called the Curate of Los Palacios, " thus did the 
 king deliver Guadix from the hands of the enemies of our holy 
 faith, after seven hundred and seventy years, that it had been 
 in their possession, even since the time of llodcrick the Goth ; 
 and this was one of the mysteries of our Lord, who would not 
 consent that the city should reinaiu longer in power of the 
 Moors." A pious and sage remark, which is quoted with pe- 
 culiiir approbation by the worthy Agapida. 
 
 King Ferdinand offered similar alt«;rnativc8 to the Moors of 
 Baza, Almeria, and other cities, accused of participation in 
 this conspiracy ; who generally preferred to abandon their 
 homes, rather than incur the risk of an investigation. Most 
 of them relinquished Spain, as a country where they could no 
 longer live in security and independence, and departed with 
 their families for Africa ; such as remained were suffered to 
 live in villages and hamlets and other unwalled places.* 
 
 While Ferdinand was thus occupied at Gaudix, dispensing jus- 
 tice and mercy, and receiving cities in exchange, the old 
 monarch, Midey Abdalluh, surnamed £1 Zagal, appeared before 
 him. He was haggard with care, and almost crazed with passion. 
 He luid found his little territory of Andarax, and his two 
 ihoasand subjects, as difficult to govern as had been the dis- 
 tracted kingdom of Granada. The chann, which had bound 
 the Moors to him, was broken, when he appeared in arras 
 under the banner of Ferdinand. He had retunied from his 
 inglorious campaign, with his petty army of two hundred men, 
 followed by the execrations of the peo])le of Granada, and the 
 secret repining oftho.se he had led into the field. No sooner had 
 his subjects heard of the successes of Uonbdil el Chico, than they 
 seized their arms, assembled tumultuously , declared for the young 
 monarch, threatening the life of Kl Zagal.f The unfortunate 
 old king had with difficulty evaded their fury ; and this last 
 lesson seemed entirely to have cured him of his passion for 
 sovereignty. lie now entreated Ferdinand to purchase the 
 towns and castles, and other possessions, which had been 
 granted to him; offering them at a low rate, and begging 
 safe passage, for himself and his followers, to Africa. King 
 Ferdinand graciously complied with his wishes. He purchased 
 
 "■ Qsribajr, Uh. xiii. cap. 39. Pulgar, lib. iii. cap. 132. 
 
 t Curs de Ion Palacios, cap. 97. 
 
 
 ril 
 
 
 m 
 
 
 w 
 
 
 M 
 
ff^gtS^ 
 
 312 
 
 THE CONQUEST OP GRANADA. 
 
 of him three and twenty towns and villages, in the valleys of 
 Andarax and Alhauren, for which he gave him five millions of 
 maravcdis. El Zagal relinquished his right to one half of the 
 Salinas, or saltpits, of Maleha, in favour of his brother-in-law, 
 Cidi Yahye. Having thus <lisposed of his petty empire and 
 possessions, he packed up all his treasure, of which he had a 
 great amount, and, followed by many Moorish families, passed 
 over to Africa.* 
 
 And here let us cast an eye beyond the present period of 
 our chronicle, and trace the remaining career of El Zagal. 
 His short and turbulent reign, and disastrous end, would 
 afford a wholesome lesson to unprincipled ambition, were not 
 all ambition of the kind fated to be blind to precept and 
 example. When he arrived in Africa, instead of meeting 
 with kindness and sjTnpathy, he was seized and thrown in 
 prison by the King of Fez, as though he had been his vassal. 
 He was accused of being the cause of the dissensions and 
 downfal of the kingdom of Granada, and the accusation being 
 proved to the satisfaction of the King of Fez, he condemned 
 the unhappy El Zagal to perpetual darkness. A basin of 
 glowing copper was passed before his eyes, which effectually 
 destroyed his sight. His wealth, which had probably been 
 the secret cause of these cruel measures, was confiscated and 
 seized upon by his oppressor, and El Zagal was thrust forth, 
 blind, helpless, and destitute, u])on the world. In this wret- 
 ched condition, the late Moorish monarch gi'oped his way 
 through the regions of Tingitania, until he reached the city of 
 Velez de Gomera. The King of Vclcz had formerly been his 
 ally, and felt some movement of compassion at his present 
 altered and abject state. He gave him food and raiment, and 
 suffered him to remain unmolested in his dominions. Death, 
 which so often hurries off the prosperous and happy from the 
 midst of untasted pleasures, spares, on the other hand, the 
 miserable, to drain the last drop of his cup of bitterness. El 
 Zagal dragged out a wretched existence of many years, in the 
 city of Vclcz. He wandered about, blind and disconsolate, 
 an object of mingled scorn and pity, and bearing above his 
 raiment a jjarchment, on which was written in Arabic, 
 *' This is the unfortunate King of Andalusia." f 
 
 ♦ Conde, part Iv. cap. 41. 
 
 •I- Marmol de Kobelionc Maur. lib. i. uap. 10. Podraza Hist. Grauit. 
 p. iii. cap. 4. Suarcz, Hist de Obispados de Quadiz y Baza, '^ap. 10, 
 

 ys of 
 msof 
 )f the 
 L-law, 
 e and 
 had a 
 tassed 
 
 iod of 
 Zagal. 
 would 
 !ie not 
 )t and 
 leeting 
 twn in 
 vassal. 
 ns and 
 1 being 
 lemned 
 lasin of 
 actually 
 y been 
 ted and 
 5t forth, 
 is wret- 
 lis way 
 5 city of 
 aeen his 
 present 
 cnt, and 
 
 Death, 
 rom the 
 ind, the 
 ess. El 
 8, in the 
 onsolate, 
 bovo his 
 
 Arabic, 
 
 Bt. Qraniit. 
 "•p. 10, 
 
 PnErABATIONS FOn A DESFEBATE DEFENCE. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXIX. 
 
 31.3 
 
 " How is thy strens^th departed, oh Granada ! how is thy 
 beauty withered and despoiled, oh city of groves and foun- 
 tains ! The commerce, thiit once thronged thy streets, is at 
 an end ; the merchant no longer hastens to thy gates, with 
 the luxuries of foreign lands. The cities, which once paid 
 thee tribute, are wrested from thy sway ; the chivalry, which 
 filled thy vivarrambla with the sumptuous pageantry of war, 
 have fallen in many battles. The Alhambra still rears its 
 ruddy towers from the midst of groves ; but melancholy 
 
 reigns in its marble halls, and the monarch looks down 
 
 once 
 
 form 
 had 
 
 his lofty balconies upon a naked waste, where 
 extended the blooming glories of the vega !' 
 
 Such is the lament of the Moorish writers, over the lament- 
 able state of Granada, which remained a mere phantom of its 
 former greatness. The two ravages of the vcga, following so 
 closely upon each other, had swept off all the produce of the 
 year, and the husbandman had no longer the heart to till the 
 field, seeing that the ripening harvest only brought the 
 spoiler to his door. 
 
 During the winter season. King Ferdinand made diligent 
 preparations for the lust campaigii, that was to decide the 
 fate of Granada. As tliis war was waged purely for the pro- 
 motion of the Christian faith, he thought it meet its enemies 
 should bear the expenses. He levied, therefore, a general 
 contribution upon all the Jews throughout his kingdom, by 
 synagogues and districts, and obliged them to render in the 
 proceeds at the city of Seville.* 
 
 On the 11th of April, Ferdinand and Isabella departed for 
 the Moorish frontier, with the solemn determination to lay 
 close siege to Granada, and never to quit its walls until they 
 had planted the standard of the faith on the towers of the 
 Alhambra. Many of the nobles of the kingdom, particularly 
 those from the parts remote from the scene of action, wearied 
 by the toils of war, and foreseeing, that this would bo n 
 tedious siege, requiring patience and vigilance, rather than 
 hardy deeds of arms, were contented with sending their 
 vassals, while they staid at home themselves, to attend to 
 their domains. Many cities furnish ed soldiers at their cost, 
 and the king tjok the field with an army of forty thousand 
 * GftritMy, lib. viii. cap. 89. 
 
 
 I' !l 
 
 m 
 
314 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 infantry, and ten thousand horse. The principal captains, 
 who followed him in this campaign, were Roderigo Ponce do 
 Leon, the Marquis of Cadiz, the master of Santiago, the Mar- 
 quis of Villena, the counts of Tcndilla, Cifuentes, Cabra, and 
 Urefia, and Don Alonzo de Aguilar. 
 
 Queen Isabella, accompanied by her son, the Prince Juan, 
 and by the princesses J nana, Maria, and Cathalina, her 
 daughters, proceeded to Alcala la Real, the mountain fortress 
 and strong- hold of the Count de Tendilla. Here she remained, 
 to forward supplies to the army, and to be ready to repair to 
 the camp, whenever her presence might be required. 
 
 The army of Ferdinand poured into the vega, by various 
 defiles of the mountains, and on the 23rd of April, the royal 
 tent was pitched at a village called Los Ojos de Huescar, 
 about a league and a half from Granada. At the approach of 
 this formidable force, the harassed inhabitants turned pale, 
 and even many of the warriors trembled, for they felt, that the 
 last desperate struggle was at hand. 
 
 Boabdil el Chico assembled his council in the Alhambra, 
 from the windows of which they could behold the Christian 
 squadrons, glistening through clouds of dust, as they poured 
 along the vega. The utmost confusion and consternation 
 reigned in the council. Many of the members, terrified with 
 the horrors impending over their families, advised Boabdil to 
 throw himself upon the generosity of the Christian monarch ; 
 even several of the bravest suggested the possibility of obtain- 
 ing honourable terms. 
 
 The wazir of the city, Abul Casim Abdelmelic, was called 
 upon to report the state of the public means, for sustenance 
 and defence. There were sufficient provisions, he said, for a 
 few months' supply, independent of what might exist in the 
 possession of merchants, and other rich inhabitants. " But of 
 what avail," said he, ** is a temporary prevision against the 
 sieges of the Castilian monarch, which are inv<n*minable ?" 
 
 He produced, also, the lists of men capable of bearing 
 arms. ** The number," said he, '* is great ; but what can be 
 expected from mere citisen soldiers ? They vaunt and menace 
 in time of safety. None are so arrogant when the enemy is 
 at a distance ; but when the din of war thunders at liieir 
 gates, they hide themselves in terror." 
 
 When Muza heard these words, he rose with generouf 
 warmth. "What reason have we," taid he, "to despair? 
 
PREPABATIONS FOR A DESPERATE DEFENCE. 
 
 315 
 
 uns, 
 e de 
 Mar- 
 , nnd 
 
 Fuan, 
 , her 
 rtress 
 lined, 
 air to 
 
 arious 
 royal 
 lescar, 
 •ach of 
 I pale, 
 iiat the 
 
 lambra, 
 [iristian 
 [poured 
 
 nation 
 with 
 abdil to 
 >narch ; 
 
 obtain- 
 
 called 
 itenance 
 d, for a 
 
 in the 
 
 But of 
 dnst the 
 )le?" 
 bearing 
 it can be 
 
 menaoe 
 
 inemy i» 
 at their 
 
 generous 
 despair? 
 
 The blood of those illustrious Moors, the ancient conquerors 
 of Spain, still flows in our veins. Let us be true to ourselves, 
 and fortune will again be with us. We have a veteran force, 
 both horse and foot, the flower of our chivalry ; seasoned in 
 war, and scarred in a thousand battles. As to the multitude 
 of our citizens, spoken of so slightly, why should we doubt 
 their valour ? There are twenty thousand young men, in the 
 fire of youth, for whom I will engage, that, in the defence of 
 their homes, they will rival the most hardy veterans. Do we 
 want provisions ? Our horses are fleet, and our horsemen daring 
 in foray. Let them scour and scourge the country of those 
 apostate Moslems, who have surrendered to the Christians. 
 Let them make inroads into the lands of our enemies. We 
 shall soon see them returning with cavalgadas to our gates ; 
 and to a soldier, there is no morsel so sweet as that wrested 
 with hard fighting from the foe." 
 
 Boabdil el Chico, though he wanted firm and durable 
 courage, was readily excited to sudden emotions of bravery. 
 He caught a glow of resolution from the noble ardour of 
 Muza. " Do* what is needful," said he to his commanders : 
 " into your hands I confide the common safety. You are the 
 protectors of the kingdom ; and, with the aid of Allah, will 
 revenge the insults of our religion, the deaths of our friends 
 and relations, and the sorrows and sufferings heaped upon 
 our land."* 
 
 To every one was now assigned his separate duty. The 
 wazir had chaise of the arms and provisions, and the en- 
 rolling of the people. Muza was to command the cavalry, to 
 defend the gates, and to take the lead in all sallies and 
 skirmishes. Nairn Reduan and Mohammed Aben Zayda 
 were his adjutants ; Abdel Kerim Zegri, and the other cap- 
 tains, were to guard the walls ; and the alcaydes of the 
 alcazaba, and of the red towers, had command of the for- 
 tresses. 
 
 Nothing now was heard but the din of arms, and the bustle 
 of preparation, llie Moorish spirit, quick to catch fire, was 
 immediately in a flame ; and the populace, in the excitement 
 of the moment, set at naught the power of the Christians. 
 Muza was in all parts of the city, int\ising his own generous 
 seal into the bosoms of the soldiery. The young cavaliers 
 rallied round him as their model ; the veteran warriors re- 
 
 * Conde. 
 
 T 2 
 
 I 
 
 •I f 
 
 ll 
 
 
 
 M 
 
 M 
 
 i 
 
 ,f 
 
 :! 
 
 '!■ 
 
■*-*♦ V***!-"- 
 
 316 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBANADA. 
 
 gnrdcd him with a soldier's admiration: the vulgar throng 
 followed him with shouts ; and the helpless part of the inha- 
 bitants, the old men and the women, hailed him with bless- 
 ings as their protector. 
 
 On the first appearance of the Christian army, the principal 
 gates of the city had been closed, and secured with bars, and 
 bolts, and heavy chains. Muza now ordered them to be 
 thrown open. " To me and my cavaliers," said he, " is 
 intrusted the defence of the gates : our bodies shall be their 
 barriers." He stationed at each gate a strong guard, chosen 
 from his bravest men. His horsemen were always com- 
 pletely armed, and ready to mount at a moment's warning. 
 Their steeds stood saddled and caparisoned in the stables, 
 with lance and buckler beside them. On the least approach 
 of the enemy, a squadron of horse gathered M-ithin the gate, 
 ready to dart forth like the bolt from the thunder cloud. 
 Muza made no empty bravado, or haughty threat; he was 
 more terrible in deeds than in words : and executed daring 
 exploits, beyond even the vaunt of the vainglorious. Such 
 was the present champion of the Moors. Had they possessed 
 many such warriors, or had Muza risen to power at an earlier 
 period of the war, the fate of Granada might have been 
 deferred, and the Moor, for a long time, have maintained his 
 throne within the walls of the Alhambra. 
 
 CHAPTER XC. 
 
 Though Granada was shorn of its glories, and nearly 
 cut off from all external aid, still its mighty castles and 
 massive bulwarks seemed to set all attack at defiance. Being 
 the last retreat of Moorish power, it had assembled within its 
 walls the remnants of the armies that had contended, step by 
 step, with the invaders, in their gradual conquest of the land. 
 All that remained of high bom and high bred chivalry was 
 hem. All that was loyal and patriotic was roused to activity 
 by the common danger ; and Granada that had so long been 
 lulled into inaction by vain hopes of security, now assumed a 
 fonnidable aspect in the hour of its despair. 
 
 Ferdinand saw, that any attempt to subdue the city by 
 anain force would be perilous and bloody. Cautious inhis policy, 
 and fond of conquests gained by art rather than by valour, he 
 
ARRIVAL OF THE QUEEN AT THE CAMP. 
 
 317 
 
 tbroni5 
 
 B inha- 
 
 bless- 
 
 rincipal 
 irs, and 
 n to be 
 
 he, ''i» 
 be tbeir 
 ., cbosen 
 tys corn- 
 warning. 
 3 stables, 
 approach 
 the gate, 
 er cloud. 
 ,; he vras 
 cd daring 
 (US. Such 
 J possessed 
 ; an earlier 
 have been 
 ntained his 
 
 and nearly 
 castles and 
 nee. Being 
 ed within its 
 
 Lded, step by 
 t of the land. 
 
 chivalry was 
 
 ed to activity 
 
 so long been 
 
 )w assumed a 
 
 p the city by 
 Lsinhispohcy, 
 by valour, he 
 
 resorted to the plan, which had been so successful with Rnza, 
 and determined to reduce the place by famine. For this pur- 
 pose, his armies penetrated into the very heart of the Alpux- 
 uiTas ; and ravaged the valleys, and sacked and burned the 
 towns upon which the city depended for its supplies. Scout- 
 ing parties, also, ranged the mountains behind Granada, and 
 captured every casual convoy of provisions. The Moors be- 
 came more daring as their situation became more hopeless. 
 Never had Ferdinand experienced such vigorous sallies and 
 assaults. Muza, at the head of his cavalry, harrassed tho 
 borders of the camp, and even penetrated int» the interior, 
 making sudden spoil and ravage, and leaving his course to be 
 traced by the wounded and slain. To protect his camp from 
 these assaults, Ferdinand fortified it with deep trenches and 
 strong bulwarks. It was of a (|uadrangular form, divided 
 into streets, like a city, the troops being quartered in tents, 
 and in booths, constructed of bushes and branches of trees. 
 When it was completed. Queen Isabella came in state, with 
 all her court, and the prince and princesses, to be present at 
 the siege. This was intended, as on former occasions, to re- 
 duce the besieged to despair, by showing the determination 
 of the sovereigns to reside in the camp until the city should 
 surrender. Immediately after her arrival, the queen rode 
 forth, to survey the camp and its environs. Wherever she 
 went, she was attended by a splendid retinue ; and all tho 
 commanders vied with each other in the pomp and ceremony 
 with which they received her. Nothing was heard from 
 morning imtil night but shouts and acclamations, and bursts of 
 martial music ; so that it appeared to the Moors as if a con- 
 tinual festival and triumph reigned in the Christian camp. 
 
 The an'ival of the queen, however, and the menaced obsti- 
 nacy of the siege, had no eft'eet in damping the fire of the 
 !Moorish chivalry. Muza inspired tho youthful Avarriors with 
 the most devoted heroism. "* We have nothing left to fight 
 for," said he, " but the ground we stand on : when this is 
 lost, A\e cease to have a countrv and a name."' 
 
 Finding the Christian king forebore to make an attack, 
 Muza incited his cavaliers to cluillengc the youthful chivalry 
 of tlie Christian army to single combat, or partial skirmishes. 
 Scarcely a day passed without gallant conflicts of the kind, in 
 sight of the city and the camp. The combatants rivalled each 
 other in the splendour of their aimour and array, as well as 
 
 ■ ■'! 
 
 ^1::: 
 
 H 
 
 Hit 
 
 III 
 
318 
 
 Tlli:: COliQUESI OF QUANADA. 
 
 in the prowess of their deeds. Their contests were more like 
 the stately ceremonials of tilts and tournaments, than the 
 rude combats of the field. Ferdinand soon perceived that 
 they animated the fiery Moors with fresh zeal and courage, 
 while they cost the lives of many of his bravest cavaliers : he 
 again, therefore, forbade the acceptance of any individual 
 challenges ; and ordered that all partial encounters should be 
 avoided. The cool and stem policy of the Catholic sovereign 
 bore hard upon the generous spirits of either army; but 
 roused the indignation of the Moors, when they found they 
 were to be subdued in this inglorious manner. " Of what 
 avail," said they, "is chivalry and heroic valour ? the crafly 
 monarch of the Christians has no magnanimity in warfare : 
 he seeks to subdue us through the weakness of our bodies, but 
 shims to encounter the courage of our souls ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XCI. 
 
 When the Moorish knights beheld, that all courteous 
 challenges were unavailing, they sought various means to 
 provoke the Christian warriors to the field. Sometimes a 
 body of them, fleetly mounted, would gallop up to the skirts 
 of the camp, and try who should hurl his lance farthest 
 within the barriers ; leaving his name inscribed on it, or a 
 label affixed to it, containing some taimting defiance. These 
 bravadoes caused great irritation ; b)it still the Spanish war- 
 riors were restrained by the prohibition of the king. 
 
 Among the Moorish cavaliers was one named Tarfe, re- 
 nowned for his great strength and daring spirit ; but whose 
 courage partook of fierce audacity rather than chivalric he- 
 roism. In one of these sallies, when they were skirting the 
 Christian camp, this arrogant Moor outstripped his com- 
 panions, overleaped the barriers, and galloping close to the 
 royal quarters, lanched his lance so fai within, that it re- 
 mained quivering in the earth, close by the pavilions of the 
 sovereigns. The royal guards rushed forth in pursuit ; but 
 the Moorish horsemen were already beyond the camp, and 
 scouring in a cloud of dust for the city. Upon wresting the 
 lance from the earth, a label was found upon it, importing 
 that it was intended for the queen. 
 
 Nothing could eqiud the indignation of the Christian war- 
 riors at the insolence of the bravado, when they heard to 
 
EXPLOIT OF FESEZ DEL PULGAR. 
 
 319 
 
 ■elike 
 n the 
 1 that 
 urage, 
 rs: he 
 vidual 
 uld be 
 rereign 
 r; but 
 id they 
 f what 
 J crafty 
 arfare : 
 i«8, but 
 
 jurteous 
 
 leaBs to 
 
 ;times a 
 
 he skirts 
 
 farthest 
 
 it, or a 
 
 These 
 
 lish war- 
 
 arfe, re- 
 nt whose 
 alric he- 
 rting the 
 lis com- 
 ae to the 
 lat it re- 
 ins of the 
 suit ; but 
 amp, and 
 esting the 
 importing 
 
 itian war- 
 heard to 
 
 whom the discourteous insult was offered. Fernando Perez 
 del Pulgar, sumamed " he of the exploits," was j)rescnt, and 
 resolved not to be outbraved by his during iufidel. " Who 
 will stand by me," said he, " in an enterprise of desperate 
 peril? " The Christian cavaliers well knew the harebrained 
 valoiur of del Pulgar ; yet not one hesitated to step forward. 
 He chose fifteen companions, all men of powerful arm and 
 dauntless hetirt. In the dead of the night he led them forth from 
 the camp, and approached the city cautiously until he arrived at 
 a postern gate, which opened upon the Darro, and was guarded by 
 footsoldiers. Theguards, littlethinkingofsuchanunwontedand 
 partial attack, were forthe most partasleep. The gate was forced, 
 and a confused and chance-medley skinnish ensued. Fer- 
 nando del PiUgar stopped not to take part in the afiray. 
 Putting spurs to his horse, he galloped furiously through the 
 streets, striking fire out of the stones at every bound. 
 Arrived at the principal mosque, he sprang from his horse, 
 and, kneeling at the portal, took possession of the edifice as 
 a Christian chapel, dedicating it to the blessed Virgin. In 
 testimony of the ceremony, he took a tablet, which he had 
 brought with him, on which was inscribed in large letters, 
 " Ave Mabia," and nailed it to the door of the mosque with 
 his dagger. This done, he remounted his steed, and galloped 
 back to the gate ; the alarm had been given ; the city was in 
 an uproar; soldiers were gathering from every direction; 
 they were astonished at seeing a Christian warrior speeding 
 from the interior of the city. Fernando del Pulgar, overturn- 
 ing some, and cutting down others, rejoined his companions, 
 who stUl maintained possession of the gate by dint of hard 
 fighting, and they all made good their retreat to the camp. 
 The Moors were at a loss to conjecture the meaning of this 
 wild and apparently fruitless assault ; but great was their ex- 
 asperation, when on the following day they discovered the 
 trophy of hardihood and prowess, the Ave Maria, thus 
 elevated in the very centre of the city, llie mosque, thus 
 boldly sanctified by Fernando del Pulgar, was eventually, 
 after the capture of Granada, converted into a cathedral.* 
 
 * In commemoration of this daring feat, the Emperor Charles Y., 
 in after years, conferred on Pulgar and his descendants the right of ae< 
 pnlture in that church, and the privileges of sitting in the choir dijring 
 Uf^ mass. This Fernando Perez del Pulgar was a man of letters, as 
 mU. as arms; and inscribed to Charles V. a summary of the achieve- 
 
 
 ' '•; 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 m 
 
 Ui 
 
 I 
 
jStttt^" "* 
 
 ■mK 
 
 320 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GHANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER XCir. 
 
 The royal cncam])mcnt lay at such a distance from Gra- 
 nada, that the fronoral .-ispcct of the city only could be seen, 
 as it rose peacefully from tlic ve«?a, covering the sides of the 
 hills with palaces and towers. Queen Isabella had expressed 
 an earnest desire to behold, nearer at hand, a place, the 
 beauty of which was so renowned throuj^hout the world ; 
 and the Marquis of Cadiz, with his accustomed courtesy, pre- 
 pared a great military escort and guard, to protect his consort 
 and the ladies of the court, while they enjoyed this perilous 
 gratification. 
 
 It was on the moniing after the event recorded in the pre- 
 ceding chajjter, that a magnificent and powerful train issued 
 forth from the Christian camp. The advanced guard was 
 composed of legions of cavalry, heavily armed, that looked 
 like moving masses of polished steel. Then came the k'ng and 
 queen, with the prince and princesses, and the ladies of the 
 court, surrounded by the royal body guard, sumptuously 
 arrayed, composed of the sons of the most illustrious houses 
 of Spain. After these was the rear guard, composed of a 
 powerful force of horse and foot ; for the flower of the army 
 sallied forth that day. The Moors gazed with fearful admi- 
 ration at this glorious pageant, wherein the pomp of the 
 court was mingled with the terrors of the camp. It moved 
 along in a radiant line across the vega, to the melodious 
 thunders of martial music ; while bantier. and plume, and 
 silken scarf, and rich brocade, gave a gay and gorgeous relief 
 to the grim visage of iron war that lurked beneath. 
 
 The army moved towards the hamlet of Zubia, built on the 
 skirts of the mountains, to the left of Ciranada, and command- 
 ing a view of the Alhambra, ajul the most beautifid quortcr 
 of the city. As they approached the hamlet, the Marquis of 
 Villena, the Count Urena. and Don Alonzo de Aguilar, tiled 
 off with their battalions, and were soon seen glittering along 
 the side of the mountain above the village. In the meantime, 
 the Marquis of Cadiz, the Count de Tendilla, the Count de 
 
 iDcntsofOonHalvo of Conlova, Burnanicil the Great Cnplain, who had 
 been one of Ilia c-omraUcK in amiH. He Ih often confuundod with For- 
 natuio del Piilffur, hlHlorian and Mccretary to l^iecn lanlHslla. Bco note 
 to rnlffar's Chrou. of tbo Catholic Sovereigns, part iii. cap. 3. £dit 
 Valencia, 1780. 
 
•■'^^i^^^dKlSS^ 
 
 THE QUEEN 8 SKIRMISH. 
 
 321 
 
 Cabra, and Don Alonzo Fernandez, gcnior of Alcandrctc and 
 Montemayor, drew up their forces in battle array on the 
 plain below the hamlet, presenting a living barrier of loyal 
 chivalrj', between the sovereigns and the city. Thus see\jrely 
 guarded, the royal party alighted, and entering one of the 
 houses of the hamlet, which had been prepared for their re- 
 ception, enjoyed a full view of the city from its terraced roof. 
 The ladies of the court gazed with delight at the red towers 
 of the Alhambra, rising from amidst shady groves, anticipat- 
 ing the time when the Catholic sovereigns shoidd be enthroned 
 within its walls, and its courts shine with the splendour of 
 Spanish chivalry. " The reverend prelates and holy friars, 
 who always surrounded the queen, looked with serene satis- 
 faction," says Fray Antonio Agapida, " at tl>is modern 
 IJabylon ; enjoying the triumph that awaitetl them, when 
 these mosques and minarets should be converted into 
 churches, and goodly priests and bishops should succeed to 
 the iuHdel alfaciuis.'' 
 
 When the Moors beheld the Christians thus drawn forth 
 in full an*ay in the plain, they supposed it was to oifer them 
 battle, and they hesitated not to accept it. In a little while, 
 the queen beheld a body of Moorish cavalry pouring into tho 
 vega, the riders managing their f.eet and fiery steeds with 
 admirable address. Th^y were richly armed, and clothed in 
 the most brilliant colours, and the caparisons of their steeds 
 flamed with gold and embroidery. This was the favourite 
 squadi'on of Muza, composed of the flower of the youthful 
 cavaliers of Granada : others succeeded ; some heavily armed, 
 Home (1 la ycneta, with lance and buckler, and lastly came tho 
 legions of foot soldiers, with arquebuse and crossbow, and 
 spear and cimeter. 
 
 When the (pieen saw the army issuing from tho city, she 
 8ent to the Man^uis of Cadiz, and forbade any attack upon 
 the enemy, or the acceptance of any challenge to a Nkirmish ; 
 for she .vas loth that her curiosity shcmhl cost the life of a 
 single human being. 
 
 'i'he marcpiis promised to obey, though sorely against his 
 will ; and it giieved the spirit of the Spanish cavaliers to he 
 obliged to ivnuiin with sheathed swords, wliile Iwarded by 
 the foe. The Moors could not compri'hend the meaning of 
 this inaction of the Christians. ai\er having apparently invited 
 u battle. They sallied Hcveral times from their raukH, and 
 
822 
 
 TH£ COKQUEST OF GBAKADA. 
 
 
 approached near enough to dischai^e their arrows, hut the 
 Christians were immovable. Many of the Moorish horsemen 
 galloped close to the Christian ranks, brandishing their lances 
 and cimcters, and defying various cavaliers to single combat : 
 but King Ferdinand had rigorously prohibited all duels of 
 the kind, and they dared not trangress his orders under his 
 very eye. 
 
 While this grim and reluctant tranquillity prevailed along 
 the Christian line, there rose a mingled shout and sound of 
 laughter, near the gate of the city. A Moorish horseman, 
 armed at all points, issued forth, followed by a rabble, who 
 drew back as he approached the scene of danger. The Moor 
 was more robust and brawny than was common with his 
 countrymen. His visor was closed ; he bore a large buckler 
 and ponderous lance ; his cimeter was of a Damascus blade, 
 and his richly-ornamented dagger was wrought by an artificer 
 of Fez. He was known by his device to be Tarfe, the most 
 insolent, yet valiant, of the Moslem warriors ; the same who 
 bad hurled into the royal camp his lance, inscribed to the 
 queen. As he rode slowly along in front of the army; his 
 very steed, prancing with fiery eye and distending nostril, 
 seemed to breathe defiance to the Christians. But what were 
 the feelings of the Spanish cavaliers, when they beheld, tied 
 to the tail of his steed, and dragged in the dust, the very 
 inscription, Ave Maria^ which Fernando Perez del Pulgar 
 bad affixed to the door of the mosque ! A burst of horror 
 and indignation broke forth from the army. P'emando del 
 Pulgur was not at hand to maintain his previous achievement, 
 but one of his young companions in arms, Garcilasso de la 
 Vega by name, putting spurs to his horse, galloped to the 
 bamlet of /ubia, threw himself on his knees before the king, 
 and besouglit permission to accept the defiance of this insolent 
 infidel, and to revenge the insult offered to our blessed Lady. 
 The rec^uest was too pious to l)c refused : Garcilasso remounted 
 bis steed ; he closed his helmet, graced by four sable plumes ; 
 grasped his buckler, of Flemish workmanship, and his 
 unce (^matchless temper, and defied the haughty Moor in the 
 midst of his career. A combat took place, in view of the two 
 armies, an<l of the Custilian court. The Moor was jiowerful 
 in wielding his weapons, and dexterous in managing his 
 •teed. He was of larger frame than GarcilaHso. and more 
 eompletely armed; and the Christians trembled for their 
 
the 
 ;meii 
 inces 
 ibat : 
 Is of 
 X his 
 
 along 
 
 nd of 
 
 eman, 
 
 who 
 
 Moor 
 th his 
 uckler 
 blade, 
 rtificer 
 e most 
 le who 
 
 to the 
 ay; his 
 nostril, 
 at were 
 Id, tied 
 ae very 
 
 Pulgar 
 ■ horror 
 ndo del 
 vement, 
 JO de la 
 d to the 
 he king, 
 I insolent 
 ■d Lady, 
 mounted 
 
 plumes; 
 
 and his 
 >or in the 
 f the two 
 
 powerful 
 Aging his 
 Aiid more 
 
 for their 
 
 THE QUEEN S SKlBMItU. 
 
 323 
 
 champion. The shock of their encounter was dreadful ; their 
 lances were shivered, and sent up splinters in the air. Gar- 
 cilasso was thrown back in the saddle, and his horse made a 
 wide career before he could recover his position, gather up 
 the reins, and return to the conflict. They now encountered 
 each other with swords. The Moor circled round his oppo- 
 nent as a hawk circles when about to make a swoop ; his 
 Arabian steed obeyed his rider with matchless quickness ; at 
 every attack of the infidel, it seemed as if the Christian kni^t 
 must sink beneath his flashing cimcter. But if Garcilasso 
 were inferior to him in power, he was superior in agility ; 
 many of his blows he parried, others be received on his 
 Flemish buckler, which was proof against the Damascus 
 Made. The blood streamed from numerous wounds, received 
 yy either warrior. The Moor, seeing his antagonist ex- 
 ii>9ted, availed himself of his superior force ; and, grap- 
 '1 g, endeavoured to wrest him from his saddle. They 
 DOth fell to earth ; the Moor placed his knee on the breast <ra 
 his victim, and, brandishing his dagger, aimed a blow at his 
 throat. A cry of despair was uttered by the Christian war- 
 riors, when suddenly they beheld the Moor rolling lifeless 
 in the dust ! Garcilasso had shortened his sword, and, as his 
 adversar}' raised his arm to strike, hod pierced him to the 
 heart. " It was a singular and miraculous victory," says 
 Fray Antonio Agapida ; '' but the Christian knight was 
 armed by the sacred nature of his cause, and the holy Virgin 
 gave him strength, like another David, to slay this gigantic 
 champion of the Gentiles." 
 
 llie laws of chivalry were observed throughout the combat; 
 no one interfered on either side. Garcilasso now despoiled 
 his adversary ; then, rescuing the holy inscription of " Ave 
 Mas I a" from its degrading situation, he elevated it on the 
 point of his sword, and bore it ofl* as a signal of triumph, 
 amidst the rapturous shouts of the Christian army. 
 
 The sun had now reached the meridian, and the hot blood 
 of the Moors was inflamed by its rays, and by the sight of 
 the defeat of their champion. Muza ordered two pieces of 
 ordnttnei> to open a fire upon the Christians. A confusion 
 was ])V(>dnced in one part of their ranks. Muza called the 
 chiefs of the army : — " Ltt us waste no more time in empty 
 challongrs, let us charge upon the enemy : he who assaults 
 has always an advoutage iu the cumbut." So saying, he 
 
 ii 
 
 ■»♦ 
 
 
 
 I* ! 
 
 V 
 

 324 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 rushed forward, followed by a largo body of horse and foot, 
 and charged so furiouslj' upon the advance guard of the 
 Christians, that he drove it upon the battalion of the Marquis 
 of Cadiz. The gallant marquis now considered himself ab- 
 solved from all further obedience to the queen's commands. 
 He gave the signal to attack. "Santiago!" was shouted 
 along the line, and he pressed forward to the encounter, 
 with his battalion of twelve hundred lances. The other 
 cavaliers followed his example, and the battle instantly became 
 general. 
 
 When the king and queen beheld the armies thus rushing 
 to the combat, they threw themselves on their knees, and 
 implored the Holy Virgin to protect her faithful waniors. 
 The prince and princess, the ladies of the court, and the 
 prelates and friars who were present, did the same; and 
 the elfcct of the prayers of these illustrious and saintly per- 
 sons was immediately apparent. The fierceness with which 
 the Moors had rushed to the attack was suddenly cooled ; 
 they were bold and adroit for a skirmish, but unequal to the 
 veteran Spaniards in the open field. A panic seized upon 
 the foot soldiers ; they turned, and took to flight. Muza and 
 his cavaliers in vain endeavoured to rally them. Some sought 
 refuge in the mountains ; but the greater part fled to the 
 city, in such confusion, that they overturned and trampled 
 upon each other. The Christians pursued them to the very 
 gates. Upwards of two thousand were killed, woimdod, or 
 taken prisoners, and the two pieces of ordnance Avere brought 
 off. as trophies of the victory. Not a Christian lance but was 
 bathed that day in the blood of an infidel.* 
 
 Such was the brief but sanguinary action which was known 
 among the Cliristian wairiors by the name of the Queen's 
 Skirmish ; for when the Marquis of Cadiz waited upon her 
 majesty to apologise for breaking her commands, he attributed 
 the victory entirely to her presence. The queen, however, 
 insisted that all was owing to her troops being led on by so 
 valiant a commander. Her majesty had not yet recovered 
 from her agitation at beholding so terrible a scene of blood- 
 shed, though certain veterans present pronounced it as goy 
 and gentle a fight as they had ever witnessed. 
 
 To commemorate this victory, the qiieen afterwards erected 
 a monastery in the village of Zubia, dedicated to St. Fron- 
 
 * Cura de 1m Palftcioa. 
 
CONFLAaaATION OF THE CHRISTIAN CAMP. 
 
 325 
 
 foot, 
 f the 
 vrquis 
 If ab- 
 lands. 
 louted 
 mnter, 
 
 other 
 )ccame 
 
 oishinp; 
 ?8, and 
 anriors. 
 ind the 
 e ; and 
 tly pcr- 
 i ■which 
 cooled ; 
 »1 to the 
 ud upon 
 [uza and 
 c sought 
 i to the 
 trampled 
 the very 
 ndcd, or 
 ! brought 
 c but wos 
 
 ns known 
 
 Queen's 
 
 upon her 
 
 attributed 
 
 however, 
 
 on l)y so 
 recovered 
 of blood- 
 it as gay 
 
 rds erected 
 , St. Fran- 
 
 cisco, which still exists, and in its garden is a laurel planted 
 by the hands of her majesty.* 
 
 CHAPTER XCIII. 
 
 The ravages of war had as yet spared a little portion of the 
 vega of Granada. A gi-cen belt of gardens and orchards still 
 flourished round the city, extending along the banks of the 
 Xenil and the Darro. They had been the solace and delight 
 of the inhabitants in their happier days, and contributed to 
 their sustenance in this time of scarcity. Ferdinand deter- 
 mined to make a final and exterminating ravage to the very 
 walls of tlie city, so that there should not remain a single 
 green thing for the sustenance of man or beast. The evening 
 of a hot July day shone splendidly upon tlie Christian camp, 
 which was in a bustle of preparation for the next day's 
 service, for desperate resistance was expected from the Moors. 
 The camp made a glorious appearance in the setting sun. 
 The warriors' tents of the royal family and the attendant 
 nobles were adorned with rich hangings, having sumptuous 
 devices, and with costly furniture, foimiug, as it were, a little 
 city of silk and brocade, where the pinnacles of pavilions of 
 various gay colours, surmounted with waving standards and 
 fluttering pennons, might vie with the domes and minarets of 
 the capital they were besieging. 
 
 In the midst of this gaudy metropolis, the lofty tent of the 
 queen domineered over the rest like a stately palace. The 
 Marquis of Cadiz had coiuteously surrendered his own tent to 
 the queen. It was the most complete and splendid in Chris- 
 tendom, and had been carried about with him throughout the 
 war. In the centre rose a stately alfaneque, or pavilion, in 
 Oriental taste, the rich hangings being supported by columns 
 of lances, ornamented with martial devices. ITiis centre pa- 
 vilion, or silken tower, was surrounded by other compart- 
 
 * The house from whence the king and queen contemplated the battle 
 it likewise to be seen at the present day. It is in the first street to the 
 right on entering the village from the rega, and the royal arms are 
 painted on the ceilings. It is inhabited by a worthy farmer, Francisco 
 Garcia, who. in showing the house, refuses all compensation with true 
 Spaniirii pride, offering, on the contrary, the hoHpitalitics of his mansion 
 to the stranger. His children are versed in the old Spanish ballads 
 •boat the exploita of Hernando Perez del Pulgar and Oarcilasso do la 
 Vegik 
 
 !l 
 
 
 I'li 
 
 , I 
 
 11 « 
 
 fi I 
 
 r, 
 
 f 
 
 i 
 
 ■i; 
 
 ;i 
 
326 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRAKADA.. 
 
 ments, some of painted linen lined with silk, and all separated 
 from each other by c\irtain8. It was one of those camp pa- 
 laces which are raised and demolished in an instant, like the 
 city of canvas that surromids them. 
 
 As the evening advanced the bustle in the camp subsided ; 
 every one sought repose, preparatory to the next day's toil. 
 The king retired early, that he might be up with the crowing 
 of the cock to head the destroying army in person. All stir 
 of military preparation was hushed in the royal quarters ; the 
 very sound of minstrelsy was mute, and not the tinkling of a 
 guitar was to be heard from the tents of the fair ladies of the 
 court. 
 
 The queen had retired to the innermost part of her pavilion, 
 where she was performing her orisons before a private altar. 
 Perhaps the peril to which the king might be exposed in the 
 next day's foray inspired her with more than usual devotion. 
 While thus at her prayers, she was suddenly aroused by a 
 glare of light and wreaths of sufiPocating smoke. In an instant 
 the whole tent was in a blaze ; there was a high gusty wind, 
 which whirled the light flames from tent to tent, and speedily 
 wrapped them all in one conflagration. 
 
 Isabella had barely time to save herself by instant flight. 
 Her first thought, on being extricated from her tent, was for 
 the safety of the king : she rushed to his tent, but the vigilant 
 Ferdinand was already at the entrance of it. Starting from 
 bed <m the first alann, and &ncying it an assault of the 
 enemy, he had seized his sword and buckler, and sallied forth 
 undressed with his cuirass upon his arm. 
 
 The late so gorgeous camp was now a Fcene of wild coa- 
 fiision. The flames kept spreading from one pavilion to an- 
 other, glaring upon the rich armoiir and golden and silver 
 vessels, which seemed melting in the fervent heat. Many of 
 the soldiery had erected booths and bowers of branches, 
 which, being dry, crackled and blazed, and added to the rapid 
 conflagration. The ladies of the court fled, shrieking and 
 half dressed, from their tents ; there was an alarm of drum 
 and trumpet, and a distracted hurry about the camp of men 
 half armed. 
 
 The Prince Juan had been snatched out of bed by an at- 
 tendant and conveyed to the quarters of the Count de Cabra, 
 which were at the entrance of the camp. The loyal count 
 immediately summoned his people, and those of his cqusui, 
 
 Don 
 tent i 
 Th( 
 sided, 
 
 to CO] 
 
 saiiieti 
 
 from ( 
 
 of hur 
 
 the caJ 
 
 effects 
 
 and rei 
 
 Wh< 
 
 firmao] 
 
 spires, 
 
 bright j 
 
 tlemenl 
 
 every r( 
 
 single V 
 
 some St] 
 
 within t 
 
 faded fn 
 
 Marquis 
 
THE LAST BAYAGE BEFORE OBAKADA. 
 
 327 
 
 an ftt- 
 
 Cabra, 
 
 couut 
 
 CQUflUi» 
 
 Don Alonzo de Montemayor, and fonned a guard round the 
 tent in which the prince was sheltered. 
 
 The idea that this was a stratagem of the Moors soon sub- 
 sided, but it was feared that they might take advantage of it 
 to commence an assault; the Marquis of Cadiz, therefore, 
 sallied forth with three thousand horse to check any advance 
 from the city. As they passed along it was one entire scene 
 of hurry ana consternation ; some hastening to their posts at 
 the call of drum and trumpet, some attempting to save rich 
 effects and glittering armour, others di*agging along terrified 
 and restive horses. 
 
 When they emerged from the camp they found the whole 
 firmament illumined; the flames whirled up in long light 
 spires, and the air was filled with sparks and cinders. A 
 bright glare was thrown upon the city, revealing everj' bat- 
 tlement and tower. Turbaned heads were seen gazing from 
 every roof, and armour gleamed along the walls, yet not a 
 single warrior sallied^from the gates. The Moors suspected 
 some stratagem on the part of the Christians, and kept quietly 
 within their walls. By degrees the flames expired, the city 
 faded from sight, all again became dark and quiet, and thie 
 Marquis of Cadiz returned with his cavalry to the camp. 
 
 CHAPTER XCIV. 
 
 When the day dawned on the Christian camp, nothing re- 
 mained of that beautiful assemblage of stately pavilions but 
 heaps of smouldering rubbish, with helms, and corslets, and 
 other furniture of war, and masses of melted gold and silver 
 glittering among the ashes. The wardrobe of the queen was 
 entirely destroyed, and there was an immense loss in plate, 
 jewels, costly stuffs, and sumptuous armour of the luxurious 
 nobles. The fire at first had been attributed to treacht ly, but 
 on investigation it was proved to be entirely accidental. Tho 
 queen, on retiring to her prayers, had ordered her lady in 
 attendance to remove a light burning near her couch, lest it 
 should prevent her sleeping , through heedlessness, the taper 
 was placed in another part of the tent, near the hangings, 
 whicn, being blown against it by a gust of wind, immediately 
 took fir J. 
 
 The wary Ferdinand knew the sanguine temperament of 
 the Moors, and hastened to prevent their deriving confidence 
 
 -m 
 
 ^t i 
 
 ■I 
 
MM 
 i l l — ii'l 
 
 328 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OKANADA. 
 
 HI' 
 
 from the night's disaster. At break of day the drums and 
 tnmipets sounded to arms, and the Christian army issued from 
 among the smoking ruins of their camp in shining squadrons, 
 with flaunting banners and bursts of martial melodies, as 
 though the preceding night had been a time of high festivity 
 instead of terror. 
 
 The Moors had beheld the conflagration with wonder and 
 perplexity. When the day broke, and they looked towards 
 the Christian camp, they saw nothing but a dark smoking 
 mass. Their scouts came in with the joyful intelligence that 
 the whole camp was a scene of ruin. Scarce had the tidings 
 spread throughout the city, than they beheld the Christian 
 army advancing towards the walls ; they considered it a feint 
 to cover meir desperate situation, and prepare for a retreat. 
 Boabdil el Chico had one of his impulses of valour ; he deter- 
 mined to take the field in person, and to follow up this signal 
 blow which Allah had inflicted on the enemy. 
 
 The Christian army approached close to the city, and were 
 laying waste the gardens and orchard", when Boabdil sallied 
 forth, surrounded by all that was left of the flower and chivalry 
 of Granada. There is one place where even the coward be- 
 comes brave : that sacred spot called home. What, then, 
 must have been the valour of the Moors, a people always of 
 fiery spirit, when the war was thus brought to their thresh- 
 holds ? They fought among the scenes of their loves and 
 pleasures, the scenes of their infancy, and the haunts of their 
 domestic life. They fought under the eyes of their wives and 
 children, their old men and their maidens, of all that was 
 helpless and all that was dear to them, lor all Gi-anada crowded 
 on tower and battlement, watching with trembling heart the 
 fate of this eventful day. 
 
 It was not so much one battle as a variety of battles. 
 Every garden and orchard became a scene of deadly contest ; 
 every inch of ground was disputed by the Moors with an 
 agony of grief and valour. Every inch of ground that the 
 Christians advanced they valiantly mniutained, but never did 
 they advance with severer fighting or greater loss of blood. 
 
 llie cavalry of Muza was in evciy part of the field. 
 Wherever it came, it gave fresh ardour to the fight, llic 
 Moorish soldier, fainting with heat, fatigue, and wounds, was 
 roused to new life at the approach of Muza ; and even he, 
 ivho lay gasping in the agonies of death, turned his face 
 
THE LAST BAVAGE BEFORE GRANADA. 
 
 329 
 
 3 and 
 [from 
 irons, 
 28, as 
 stivity 
 
 cr and 
 Dwards 
 noking 
 ice that 
 tidings 
 hristian 
 t a feint 
 retreat, 
 e deter- 
 is signal 
 
 ind were 
 il sallied 
 [ chivalry 
 ward be- 
 lat, then, 
 dways of 
 ,r thresh- 
 lovcs and 
 ts of their 
 wives and 
 
 that was 
 a crowded 
 
 heart the 
 
 of battles, 
 y contest ; 
 s with an 
 d that the 
 t never did 
 of blood. 
 
 the field, 
 fight. The 
 rounds, was 
 nd even he, 
 ed his face 
 
 towards him, and faiutlv uttered cheers and blcssiui's as he 
 passed. 
 
 The Chi-istians had by this time gained possession of va- 
 rious towers near the city, from whence they had been an- 
 noyed by crossbows and arquebuses. The Moors, scattered 
 in various actions, were severely pressed. lioabdil, at the 
 head of the cavaliers of his guard, displayed the utmost 
 valoiu* ; mingling iu the fight, in various pm'ts of the field, 
 and endeavouring to inspirit the foot soldiers to the combat. 
 But the Moorish infantry was never to be depended upon. 
 In the heat of the action a panic seized upon them. 'Ihey 
 fled; leaving their sovereign exposed, with his handful of 
 cavaliers, to an overwhelming force. Boabdil was on the 
 point of falling into the hands of the Christians; when, 
 Wiheeling round, with his followers, they all threw the reins 
 on the necks of their fleet steeds, and took refuge, by dint of 
 hoof, within the walls of the city.** 
 
 Muza endeavoured to retrieve the fortune of the field. lie 
 threw himself before the retreating infantry; calling upon 
 them to turn, and fight for their homes, their families, for 
 everything that was sacred and dear to them. It was all in 
 vain. They were totally broken and dismayed, and fled 
 tumultuously for the gates. Muza woidd fain have kept the 
 field Avith his cavalry ; but this devoted band, having stood 
 the brunt of war throughout this desperate campaign, was 
 fearfully reduced in niunber, and many of the survivors were 
 crippled and enfeebled by their wounds. Slowly and reluc- 
 tantly he retreated to the city, his bosom swelling with indig- 
 nation and despair. When he entered the gates, he ordered 
 them to be closed, and secured with bolts and bars ; for he 
 refused to place any further confidence in the archers and 
 arquebusiers, who were stationed to defend them ; and ho 
 vowed never more to sally forth with foot soldiers to the field. 
 
 In the meantime, the artillery thundered from the walls, 
 and checked all further advances of the Christians. King 
 Ferdinand, therefore called oflf his troops, and returned in 
 triumph to the ruins of his camp ; leaving the beautiful city 
 of Granada >vrappcd in the smoke of her fields and gardens, 
 and surrounded by the bodies of her slaughtered children. 
 
 Such was the last sally, made by the Moors, in defence of 
 their favourite city. The French ambassador, who witnessed 
 
 * Zurita, lib. xx. c. 88. 
 
 
 
 ■<?1 
 
 1 ^ 
 
 f' i 
 
330 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBAKADA. 
 
 it, was filled with wonder at the prowess, the dexterity, and 
 daring, of the Moslems. In truth, this whole war was an 
 instance, memorable in history, of the most persevering re- 
 solution. For nearly ten years had the war endured, exhibit- 
 ing an almost uninterrupted series of disasters to the Moorish 
 arms. Their towns had been taken one after another, and 
 their brethren slain, or led into captivity. Yet they disputed 
 every city, and town, and fortress, and castle ; nay, every 
 rock itself, as if they had been inspirited by victories. Wher- 
 ever they could plant foot to fight, or find wall or cliff from 
 whence to lanch an arrow, they disputed their beloved coun- 
 try ; and now, when their capital was cut off from all relief, 
 and had a whole nation thundeiing at its gates, they still 
 maintained defence, as if they hoped some miracle to inter- 
 pose in their behalf " Their obstinate resistance," says an 
 ancient chronicler, " shows the grief with which the Moors 
 yielded up the vega, which was to them a paradise and hea- 
 ven. Exerting all the strength of their anns, they embraced, 
 as it were, that most beloved soil, from which neither wounds, 
 nor defeats, nor death itself could part them. They stood 
 firm, battling for it with the united force of love and grief; 
 never drawing back the foot, while they had hands to fight, or 
 fortune to befriend them."* 
 
 CHAPTER XCV. 
 
 The Moors now shut themselves up gloomily within their 
 walls. There were no longer any daring sallies from their 
 gates ; and even the martial clangour of the drum and tnmi- 
 pet, which had continually resounded within that warrior 
 city, was now seldom heard from its battlements. For a time 
 they flattered themselves with hopes, that the late conflagra- 
 tion of the camp would discourage the besiegers ; that, as in 
 former years, their invasion would end with the summer, and 
 that they would again withdraw before the autumnal rains. 
 The measures of Ferdinand and Isabella soon crushed these 
 hopes. They gave orders to build a regular city upon the 
 site of their camp, to convince the Moors, that the siege was 
 to endure until the surrender of Granada. Nine of the prin- 
 cipal cities of Spain were charged with this stupendous un- 
 dertaking, and they emulated each other with a zeal worthy 
 * Abarca^ Reyes de Aragon, rey xxx. c. 3. 
 
 oft 
 
 pida 
 
 worJ 
 
 fices 
 
 had 
 
 city 
 
 terra] 
 
 centr 
 
 assen 
 
 Isabe! 
 
 princi 
 
 cause 
 
 or the 
 
 monui 
 
 Hit! 
 
 trains 
 
 from it 
 
 withaJ 
 
 of bU8( 
 
 happy 
 Intl] 
 tress of 
 of floci 
 the relil 
 was 
 
 csanp, ii 
 theharj 
 ngorouJ 
 titute o{ 
 They ct 
 gers, at I 
 had beel 
 capture [ 
 Boabd 
 out, an^ 
 moned 
 army, tl 
 the cityJ 
 •embledf 
 despair 
 manded 
 tremityj 
 
DECISION OF THE MOORISH COUNCIL. 
 
 331 
 
 and 
 i an 
 
 ? re- 
 ubit- 
 
 orish 
 , and 
 puted 
 every 
 Vher- 
 
 from 
 coun- 
 relief, 
 sy still 
 .inter- 
 lays an 
 
 Moors 
 ad hea- 
 braeed, 
 vounds, 
 ;y stood 
 d grief; 
 aght, or 
 
 lin their 
 )m their 
 adtrum- 
 
 warrior 
 or a time 
 onflagra- 
 lat, as in 
 imer, and 
 nal rains, 
 led these 
 upon the 
 siege was 
 
 the prin- 
 .ndous un- 
 »al worthy 
 
 of the cause. " It verily seemed," says Fray Antonio Aga- 
 pida, "as though some miracle operated to aid this pious 
 work, so rapidly did arise a formidable city, with solid edi- 
 fices, and powerful walls, and mighty towers, where lately 
 had been seen nothing but tents and light pavilions. The 
 city was traversed by two principal streets, in form of a cross, 
 terminating in four gates, facing the foiu: winds ; and in the 
 centre was a vast square, where the whole army might be 
 assembled. To this city it was proposed to give the name of 
 Isabella, so dear to the army and the nation ; but that pious 
 princess," adds Antonio Agapida, " calling to mind the holy 
 cause in which it was erected, gave it the name of Santa Fe, 
 or the city of the Holy Faith, and it remains to this day, a 
 monument of the piety and glory of the Catholic sovereigns." 
 
 Hither the merchants soon resorted from all points. Long 
 trains of mules were seen every day entering and departing 
 from its gates ; the streets were crowded with magazines filled 
 with all kinds of costly and luxurious merchandise ; a scene 
 of bustling commerce and prosperity took piace, while un- 
 happy Granada remained shut up and desolate. 
 
 In the meantime the besieged city began to sufier the dis- 
 tress of famine. Its supplies were all cut off. A cavalgada 
 of flocks and herds, and mules laden with money, coming to 
 the relief of the city from the mountains of the Alpuxarras, 
 was taken by the Marquis of Cadiz, and led in triumph to the 
 camp, in sight of the suffering Moors. Autumn arrived ; but 
 the harvests had been swept from the face of the country ; a 
 rigorous winter was approaching, and the city was almost des- 
 titute of provisions. The people sank into deep despondency. 
 They called to mind all that had been predicted by astrolo- 
 gers, at the birth of their ill-starred sovereign, and all that 
 had been foretold of the fate of Granada, at the time of the 
 capture of Zahara. 
 
 Boabdil was alarmed by the gathering dangers from with- 
 out, and by the clamours of his starving people. He sum- 
 moned a council, composed of the principal officers of the 
 army, the alcaydes of the fortresses, the xeques, or sages of 
 the city, and the alfaquis, or doctors of the faith. They as- 
 sembled in the great Hall of Audience of the Alhnmbra, and 
 despair wus painted in their countenances. Boabdil de- 
 manded of them what was to be done in their present ex- 
 tremity ; and their answer was, " Surrender." The venerable 
 
 z2 
 
 5 i 
 
332 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GU.VXADA. 
 
 r 'fl 
 
 li 
 
 •1. 
 
 iii 
 
 
 (!<i 
 
 ; 
 
 tr 
 
 i'i 
 
 
 
 
 1"! 
 
 
 > 
 
 Abal Cazim Abdclmclic, governor of the city, represented its 
 unlmpj)y stjitc. " Our granaries are nearly exhausted, and 
 no further supplies are to be expected. The j)rovendcr lor 
 the Mar horses is required as sustenance for the soldiery ; the 
 very horses themselves are killed for I'ood. Of seven thou- 
 sand steeds, which once could be sent into the field, three 
 hundred only remain. Our city contains two hundred thou- 
 sand inhabitants, old and yoimg, with each a mouth that calls 
 pitcously for bread." 
 
 The xeques and principal citizens declared, that the people 
 could no longer sustain the labours and sufferings of a de- 
 fence : " And of what avail is our defence," said thev, " when 
 the enemy is deteiinined to persist in the siege ? what alter- 
 native remains, but to surrender, or to die ?" 
 
 The heart of Boabdil was touched by this appeal, and ho 
 maintained a gloomy silence. He had cherished i>ome faint 
 hope of relief from the Soldan of Egj'pt, or the Barbary 
 poAvers ; but it was now at an end. Kven if such assistance 
 were to be sent, he had no longer a seaport where it might 
 debark. The counsellors saw, that the resolution of the king 
 was shaken, and they united their voices in urging him to 
 capitulate. 
 
 The valiant Muza alone arose in opposition. " It is yet too 
 early," said he, " to talk of a sun-ender. Our means are not 
 exhausted ; we have yet one source of strength remaining, 
 terrible in its effects, and which often has achieved the most 
 signal victory. It is our despair. Let us rouse the mass of 
 the people ; let us put weapons in their hands ; let us fight 
 the enemy to the very utmost, until we rush upon the points 
 of their lances. I am ready to lead the way into the thickest 
 of their squadrons ; and much rather would I be numbered 
 among those who fell in the defence of Granada, than of those 
 who survived to capitulate for her smrender !" 
 
 The words of Muza were without effect, for they were ad- 
 dressed to broken- spirited and heartless men, or men perhaps 
 to whom sad experience had taught discretion. They were 
 arrived at that state of public depression, when heroes and 
 heroism are no longer regarded, and when old men and their 
 counsels rise into importance. Boabdil el Chico yielded to 
 the general voice. It was determined to capitulate with the 
 Christian sovereigns, and the venerable Abal Cazim Abdel- 
 melic was sent forth to the camp, empowered to treat for terms. 
 
CAPITUI.VTIOX OF GB.VNADA. 
 
 333 
 
 ;d its 
 
 nnd 
 
 cr ior 
 
 ; the 
 
 thou- 
 
 thvec 
 
 thou- 
 
 ,t calls 
 
 people 
 
 a de- 
 
 " when 
 
 t alter- 
 
 andhe 
 nc faint 
 Baibary 
 (sistance 
 it might 
 the king 
 him to 
 
 s yet too 
 are not 
 
 maining, 
 le most 
 mass of 
 us fight 
 
 he points 
 thickest 
 
 lumhered 
 of those 
 
 were ad- 
 n perhaps 
 'hey were 
 leroes and 
 . and their 
 yielded to 
 e with the 
 ;im Ahdel- 
 for terms. 
 
 CHAPTER XCVI. 
 
 The old governor, Abal Cazim Abdehnclic, was received 
 with great distinction by I'Vidinund and Isabella, wIjo up- 
 pointed Gonzalvo of Cordova, and Ftinando de Zafrr mkv<; 
 tary to the king, to confer with him. All ' ''rar,i,«l >. Kuaitcd In 
 trembling anxiety the result of his negoci vtior},?. Aft.'r re- 
 peated conferences, he at length returned wit'ii the iJiiirate 
 terms of the Catholic sovereigns. They agrc?*^ to »;usp ;r.d all 
 attack for seventy days, at the end of whirli time, if no sjc- 
 cour should have arrived to the Moorisl^ kiiig, the citv ol' 
 Granada was to be surrendered. 
 
 All Christian captives were to be liborr.tcd uxthoufc rnu^jtx! , 
 
 Boabdil and his principal cavaliers ^vevc to t ikc .'a oath of 
 fcalty to the Castilian crown ; and cex'tain vahiabk tcrriic )rioa 
 in the Alpuxarras mountains were to be a^ssi,3;^>.ed to the 
 Moorish monarch for his maintenance. 
 
 The Moors of Granada were to become suhjor-ls of the 
 Spanish sovereigns, retaining their possessians, their anus, nud 
 horses, and yielding up nothing but their artilltn-y. '.rhey 
 were to be protected in the exercise of theii roJigica, and 
 governed by their own laws, administered by eudis of theh' 
 own faith, under governors appointed by the sovereigns. 
 They were to be exempted from tribute for three years, after 
 which term the pay was to be the same as they bad bo<?n ac- 
 customed to render to their native mona. ; 13 
 
 Those who chose to depart for Africrt, v tbiR three ytfjrs, 
 were to be provided with a passage for t/nmMclvts 'Xnd their 
 effects, free of charge, from whatever no it aey should prefer. 
 
 For the fulfilment of these article h. fcsur hundred hostages 
 from the principal families were r .paired, previous to the sur- 
 render, to be subsequently rcij^-ored. The son of the King of 
 Granada, and all other hoiuages in possession of the Castihan 
 sovereigns, wero to bo ^ivcn up at the same time. 
 
 Such were the conditions that the wazir, Abal Casim, laid 
 before the council of Granada, as the best that could be ob- 
 tained from the besieging foe. 
 
 When the members of the council found that the awful 
 moment had arrived, in M'hich they were to sign and seal the 
 prediction of their empire, and blot themselves out as a nation, 
 all firmness deserted them, and many gave way to tears. 
 Muza alone retained an unaltered mien. '' Leave, seniors," 
 
 
 ! ! 
 
 •it 'ft 
 
334 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 I 
 
 N: 
 
 cried he, " this idle lamentation to helpless women and children. 
 We are men ; we have hearts, not to shed tender tears, but 
 drops of blood. I see the spirit of the people so cast down, 
 that it is impossible to save the kingdom. Yet, there still 
 remains an alternative for noble minds — a glorious death ! 
 Let us die defending our liberty, and avenging the woes of 
 Granada ! Our mother Earth will receive her children into 
 her bosom, safe from the chains and oppressions of the con- 
 queror ; or, should any fail of a sepulchre to hide his remains, 
 he will not want a sky to cover him : Allah forbid it should be 
 said, the nobles of Granada feared to die in her defence !" 
 
 Muza ceased to speak, and a dead silence reigned in the 
 assembly. Boabdil el Chico looked anxiously round, and 
 scanned every face ; but he read in them all the anxiety of 
 careworn men, in whose hearts enthusiasm was dead, and 
 who had grown callous to every chivalrous appeal. " Allah 
 achbar ! God is great !' exclaimed he : •' there is no God but 
 God, and Mahomet is his prophet ! It is in vain to struggle 
 against the will of Heaven. Too surely was it written in the 
 book of fate, that I should be unfortunate, and the kingdom 
 expire under my rule !" 
 
 " Allah achbar ! God is great !" echoed the viziers and 
 alfaquis : " the will of God be done !" So thev all accorded 
 with the king, that these evils were pre-ordained ; that it was 
 hopeless to contend with them ; and that the terms offered by 
 the Castilian monarchs were'as favourable as could be expected. 
 When Muza saw, that they were about to sign the treaty of 
 iurrender, he rose, in viol ""it indignation. "Do not deceive 
 yourselves," cried he, " nor think the Christians will be faith- 
 ful to their promises, or their king as magnanimous in con- 
 quest, as he has been virtorious in war. Death is the least we 
 have to fear : it is the plundering and sacking of our city, the 
 profanation of our mosques, the ruin of our homes, < he viola- 
 tion of our wives and daughters; cruel oppression, bigoted 
 intolerance, whips and chains ; the dungeon, the faggot, and 
 the stake : such arc the miseries and indignities we shall see 
 and suffer ; at least those grovelling souls will see them, who 
 now shrink from an honourable death. For my part, by 
 Allah, I will never witness them!" With these words be 
 left the council chambiT, and strode gloomily through the 
 Court of Lions, and the outer halls of the Alhamlira, without 
 deigning to speak to the obsequious courtiers, who attended 
 
 in the 
 
 points 
 
 from t 
 
 of moi 
 
 Sucl 
 
 of Muj 
 
 Agapi( 
 
 very c 
 
 than h( 
 
 Xenil, 
 
 twiligh 
 
 from h( 
 
 rest, hii 
 
 Christifi 
 
 for, dur 
 
 howevc] 
 
 they chi 
 
 The J 
 
 them, tt 
 
 of his sa 
 
 others m 
 
 he seem 
 
 but slay 
 
 venge ; 
 
 enjoy vi 
 
 his swoi 
 
 i^ec<wnisi 
 the facU 
 
CAPITULATIOX OF GRANADA. 
 
 335 
 
 in them. He repaired to his dwelling, anned himself at all 
 points, mounted his favourite war horse, and, issuin*; forth 
 from the city by the gate of lilnra, was never seen or heard 
 of more.* 
 
 Such is the account given by Arabian historians of the exit 
 of Muza ben Abel Gazan ; but the venerable Fray Antonio 
 Agapida endeavours to dear up the mysterj' of his fate. That 
 very evening, a party of Andalusian cavaliers, somewhat more 
 than half a score of lances, were riding along the banks of the 
 Xenil, where it winds through the vega. They beheld in the 
 twilight a Moorish warrior approaching, closely locked up 
 from head to foot in proof. His visor was closed, his lance in 
 rest, his powerful charger barbed, like himself, in steel. The 
 Christians were lightly armed, with corslet, helm, and target ; 
 for, during the truce, they apprehended no attack. Seeing, 
 however, the unknown wanior ajjproach in this hostile guise, 
 they challenged him to stand and declare himself. 
 
 The Moslem answered not; but, charging into the midst of 
 them, transfixed one knight with his lance, and bore him out 
 of his saddle to the earth. Wheeling round, he attacked the 
 others with his cimiter. His blows were furious and deadly : 
 he seemed regardless what wounds he received, so he could 
 but slay. He was evidently fighting, not for glor}-, but re- 
 venge ; eager to inflict death, but careless of sur\'iving to 
 enjoy victory. Nearly one half of the cavaliers fell beneath 
 his sword, before he received a dangerous wound, so com- 
 pletely was he cased in armour of proof. At length he was 
 desperately wounded ; and his steed, being pierced by a lance, 
 fell to the ground. The Cliristians. admiring the valour of the 
 Moor, would have simrcd his life ; but he contiimed to fight 
 upon his knees, brandishing a keen dagger of Fez. Finding 
 at length he could no longer battle, and determined not to bo 
 taken prisoner, he threw himself, with an expiring exertion, 
 into the Xenil, and his annour sank liim to the bottom of the 
 stream. 
 
 This unknown warrior the %-encrable Agapida pronounces to 
 have been Muza l)en Abel Gazan ; and says, his horse waa 
 rec(^isod by certain converted M(M)rs of the Christian camp ! 
 the fact, however, has always remained in doubt. 
 
 • Conde, part ir. 
 
 I "tl 
 
 >i 
 
 
33G 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GCANADA. 
 
 CHArTEPw XCVII. 
 
 The capitulation for tlie sun-endtr of Granada was signed 
 on the 25th of November, 1481, and produced a sudden ces- 
 sation of those hostilities which had raged for so many years. 
 Cliristian and Moor might now be seen mingling courteously 
 on the banks of the Xenil and the Darro, where to have met 
 a few days previous would have produced a scene of san- 
 guinary contest. Still, as the Moors might be suddenly 
 aroused to defence, if, within the allotted term of seventy 
 days, succours should arrive from abroad ; mid as they were, 
 at all times, a rash, inflammable people, the wary Ferdinand 
 maintained a vigilant watch upon the city, and permitted no 
 supplies of any kind to enter. His garrisons in the sea-ports, 
 and his cruizers in the Straits of Gibraltar, were ordered 
 likewise to guard ogainst any relief from the Grond Soldan of 
 Egypt, or the princes of Burbaiy. 
 
 There was no need of such pi'ccaut' >ns. Those powers 
 were cither too much engrossed by their own wars, or too 
 much daunted by the success of the Spanish arms, to interfere 
 in a desperate cause ; and the unfortunate Moors of Granadii 
 were abandoned to their fate. 
 
 The month of December had nearly passed away; the 
 famine became extreme, and there was no hope of any 
 favourable event within the term specified in the capitulation. 
 Boabdil saw, that to hold out to the end of the allotted time 
 would only be to protract the miseries of his people. With 
 the consent of his council, he determined to surrender the 
 city on the 6th of January. On the 20th of DecemlKT, ho 
 sent his grand vizier, Jusef Aben Comixa, with the fom* 
 hundred hostages, to King Ferdinand, to make known his 
 intention; bearing him, at the same time, a ])resent of a 
 magnificent cimcter, and two Arabian steeds, sujK'rbly capa- 
 risoned. 
 
 The mifortunate Boabdil was doomed to meet with trouble 
 to tlie end of his career. The very next day, the santon, or 
 dervise, Ilamet Aben Zarah, the same who hod uttered pro- 
 phecies and excited conmiotions on former occasions, sud- 
 denly made his a])pearonee. Whence he came, no ono 
 knew : it was nnnoured that he had been in the mountains of 
 the Alj)uxarras, and on the coast of Barbary, endeavouring to 
 rouse the Moslems to the relief of Granada. He was reduced 
 
 to a s 
 and 1 
 haran 
 again; 
 Mosle 
 forth i 
 a sign 
 Vpx 
 arms, i 
 shops 
 dare tc 
 Alham 
 The 
 and ho' 
 night, 
 and, wl 
 on had 
 the emi 
 is not k 
 Tlie } 
 by his I 
 set fort 
 from th 
 defence, 
 into the 
 In th 
 attribute 
 my crira 
 father," 
 upon th 
 upon m) 
 this trea 
 from fan 
 war, anc 
 your libc 
 of happi 
 vorsatilel 
 ftovereigij 
 H'as oven 
 tunate I "| 
 tronquill 
 
 II 
 
MMI 
 
 copa- 
 
 COMMOriONS J.N ORANADA. 
 
 3S7 
 
 to a skeleton. IHs eyes {flowed in their sockets like coals, 
 and his speech was little better than frantic ravin<;. Ho 
 harangued the populace in the streets and squares; invei«;lied 
 a^^ainst the capitulation ; denounced the king and nobles as 
 Moslems only in name; and called upon the people to sally 
 forth against the unbelievers, for that Allah had decreed them 
 a signal victory. 
 
 Upwards of twenty thousand of the populace seized their 
 arms, and paraded the streets with shouts and outcries. The 
 shops and houses were shut up: the king himself did not 
 dare to venture forth, but reniaiued a kind of prisoner in tho 
 Alhambra. 
 
 The turbulent multitude continued running, and sliouting, 
 and howling about the city, during the day and a j)art of the 
 night. Hunger and a wintry tempest tamed their frenzy; 
 and, when morning came, the enthusiast who had led them 
 on had disappeared. Whether he had been disposed of by 
 the emissaries of the king, or by the leading men of the city, 
 is not kno>vn ; his disappearance remaining a mystery.* 
 
 The Moorish king now issued from the Alhambra. attended 
 by his principal nobles, and harangued the popidace. Ho 
 set forth the necessity of complying with the capitulation, 
 from the famine that reigned in the city, the futility of 
 defence, and from the hostages having already been delivered 
 into the hands of the besiegers. 
 
 In the dejection of his spirits, the \mfortun:itc Boabdil 
 attributed to himself tho miseries of the eomitrv. " It was 
 my crime, in ascending the throne in rclx'llion against my 
 father,' said he, mournfully, " which has 1)r()ught these woes 
 upon the kingdom; but Allah has grievously visited my sins 
 upon my head! For your sake, my people, I have now made 
 this treaty, to protect you from the sword, your little ones 
 from famine, your wives and daughters from the outrages of 
 war, and to secure you in the enjoyment of your properties, 
 your liberties, your laws, and your religion, under a sovereign 
 of happier destinies than the ill-starred lioubdil!" Tho 
 versatile populace were touched by the tiiiniility of their 
 sovereign : they agreed to adhere to the capitulation ; there 
 was even a faint shout of " Long live Boalklil the unfor- 
 tunatc!" and they all returned to their homes in i)erfcct 
 tranquillity. 
 
 • MsriuuL 
 
 j 
 
 1 
 
 " if ■;! 
 
 i i 
 
 I; 
 
 
 'L 
 
 • t 
 
 I 
 
 f 
 
338 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF ORA.XADA. 
 
 Boabdil immediately sent missives to King Ferdinand, 
 apprizing him of these events, and of his fears lest further 
 delay should produce new tumults. He proposed, therefore, 
 to surrender the city on the following day. The Castilian 
 sovereigns assented with great satisfaction; and preparations 
 were made, both in city and camp, for this great event, that 
 was to seal the fate of Granada. 
 
 It was a night of doleful lamentings within the walls of the 
 Alhambra; for the household of Boabdil were preparing to 
 take a last farewell of that delightful abode. All the royal 
 treasures, and the most precious effects of the Alhambra, 
 w^ere hastily packed upon nmles; the beautiful apartments 
 were despoiled, with tears and wailings, by their own inha- 
 bitants. Before the dawn of day, a mournful cavalcade 
 moved obscurely out of a postern gate of the Alhambra, and 
 departed through one of the most retired quarters of the city. 
 It was composed of the family of the unfortunate Boabdil, 
 whom he sent off thus privately, that they might not be 
 exposed to the eyes of scoffers, or the exultation of the enemy. 
 The mother of Boabdil, the sultana Ayxa la Horra, rode on 
 in silence, with dejected yet dignifiea demeanour; but his 
 wife Zorayma, and all the females of his household, gave way 
 to loud lamentations, as they gave a last look to their £&- 
 vourite abode, now a mass of gloomy towers, behind them. 
 They were attended by the ancient domestics of the house- 
 hola, and by a small guard of veteran Moors, loyally attached 
 to the fallen monarch, and who would have sold their lives 
 dearly in defence of his family. The city was yet buried in 
 sleep, as they passed through its silent streets. The guards 
 at the gate shed tears as they opened it for their departure. 
 They tarried not, but proceeaed along the banks of the Xenil, 
 on the road that leads to the Alpuxarras, until they arrived 
 at a hamlet, at some distance from the city, where they 
 halted, and waited until they should be joined by King 
 Boabdil 
 
 CHAPTER XCVIII. 
 
 The sun had scarcely begun to shed his beams upon the 
 summits of the snowy moimtains. which rise above (irunada, 
 when the Christian camp was in motion. A detachment of 
 horse and foot, led by (li^tiug^shed cavaliers, and accom- 
 
 panied I 
 to take J 
 been stij 
 for this 
 A road i 
 leading 
 Mills) to 
 hnitoa 
 When 
 the Moo 
 handful ( 
 to delive 
 command 
 those fort 
 ful lord, i 
 no more, 
 which th 
 vega, to 
 the Alhan 
 its splenc 
 meantime 
 ci^ of Sa 
 and queer 
 and mdiei 
 different 
 royal gua 
 slowly for 
 distance o 
 The 80' 
 fixed on 
 appointed 
 since the 
 than nece 
 Ferdinand 
 the city, 
 standard 
 or great y 
 was done 
 it was plai 
 and a grea 
 the army, 
 king of a 
 
8URBENDEK OF GBAXADA. 
 
 339 
 
 panicd by Hernando de Talavera, bishop of Avila, proceeded 
 to take possession of the Alhumbra and the towers. It had 
 been stipulated in the capitulation, that the detachment sent 
 for this purpose should not enter by the streets of the city. 
 A road had, therefore, been opened outside of the walls, 
 leading by the Puerta dc los Molinos (or the Gate of the 
 Mills) to the sununit of the Hill of Martyrs, and across the 
 hill to a postern gate of the Alhambra. 
 
 When the detachment arrived at the summit of the hill, 
 the Moorish king came forth from the gate, attended by a 
 handful of cavaliers, leaving his vizier, Jusef Aben Comixa, 
 to deliver up the palace. "Go, senior," said he, to the 
 commander of the detachment; "go, and take possession of 
 those fortresses, which Allah has bestowed upon your power- 
 ful lord, in punishment of the sins of the Moors!" He said 
 no more, but passed mournfully on, along the same road by 
 which the Spanish ca\'alier8 had come; descending to the 
 vega, to meet the Catholic sovereigns. The troops entered 
 the Alhambra, the gates of which were wide open, and all 
 its splendid courts and halls silent and deserted. In the 
 meantime, the Christian court and army poured out of the 
 city of Santa F6, and advanced across the vega. The king 
 and queen, with the prince and princess, and the digiiitaries 
 and ladies of the court, took the lead; accompanied by the 
 different orders of monks and friars, and surrounded by the 
 royal guards, splendidly arrayed. The procession moved 
 slowly forward, and paused at the village of Armilla, at the 
 distance of half a league from the city. 
 
 The sovereigns waited here with impatience, their eyes 
 fixed on the lofty tower of the Alhambra, watching for the 
 appointed signal of possession. The time that had elapsed 
 since the departure of the detachment seemed to them more 
 than necessary for the purpose, and the anxious mind of 
 Ferdinand began to entertain doubts of some commotion in 
 the city. At length they saw the silver cross, the great 
 standard of this crusade, elevated on the Torre de la Vela, 
 or great watch-tower, and sparkling in the sunbeams. This 
 was done by Hernando de lulavera, bishop of Avila. Beside 
 it was planted the pennon of the glorious apostle St. James; 
 and a great shout of " Santiago! Santiago!" rose throughout 
 the army. Lastly was reared the royal standard, by the 
 king of arms, with the shout of "Castile! Castile! For 
 
 m^' . 
 
 (\ 
 
340 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella!" The words were 
 echoed by the whole army, with acclamations that resounded 
 across the vega. At sight of these signals of possession, the 
 sovereigns fell upon their knees, giving thanks to God for 
 this great triumph. The whole assembled host followed their 
 example; and the choristers of the royal chapel broke forth 
 into the solemn anthem of Te Deum laudamus! 
 
 Tlie procession now resumed its march with joyful alacrity, 
 to the sound of triumphant music, until they came to a small 
 mosque, near the banks of the Xcnil, and not far from the 
 foot of the Hill of Martyrs, which edifice remains to the 
 present day, consecrated as the hermitage of St. Sebastian. 
 Here the sovereigns were met by the unfoilxmate Boabdil, 
 accompanied by about fifty cavaliers and domestics. As he 
 drew near, he would have dismounted, in token of homage ; 
 but Ferdinand prevented him. He then proffered to kiss the 
 king's hand, but this sign of vassalage was likewise declined : 
 whereupon, not to be outdone in magnanimity, he leaned for- 
 ward, and saluted the right arm of Ferdinand. Queen 
 Isabella, also, refused to receive this ceremonial of homage ; 
 and, to console him under his adversity, delivered to him his 
 son, who had remained as hostage ever since Boabdil's libe- 
 ration from captivity. The Moorish monarch pressed his 
 child to his bosom with tender emotion, and they seemed 
 mutually endeared to each other by their misfortunes.* 
 
 He then delivered the keys of the city to King Ferdinand, 
 with an air of mingled melancholy and resignation. " These 
 keys," said he, " are the last relics of the Arabian empire in 
 Spain. Tliine, O king, are our trophies, our kingdom, and 
 our person ! Such is the will of God ! Receive them with 
 the clemency thou hast promised, and which we look for at 
 
 thy hands !"t 
 
 King Ferdinand restrained his exultation into an air of 
 serene magnanimity. *' Doubt not our promises," replied he, 
 " or, that thou shalt regain from our friendship the prosperity 
 of which the fortune of war has deprived thoe." 
 
 On receiving the keys, King Ferdinand handed them to 
 the queen. She, in her turn, presented them to her son. 
 Prince Juan, who delivered them to the Count dc Tendilla ; 
 that brave and loyal cavL^er being appointed alcaydc of the 
 city, and captain-general of the kingdom of Granada. 
 
 * Zurita, Analcs do Aragon. 
 
 t Abarca, Analcs do Amgon, rcy xxx. c. 3. 
 
SUBRE>'CER OF ORAN.VDA. 
 
 341 
 
 Havin*? sun'cndcred the last symbol of power, the unfor- 
 tunate Boabdil continued on towards the Alpuxarras, that he 
 mi^ht not behold the entrance of the Christians into his 
 capital. His devoted band of cavaliers followed him in 
 gloomy silence ; but heavy sighs burst from their bosoms, as 
 shouts of joy and strains of triumphant music were borne on 
 the breeze from the victorious army. 
 
 Ha\4ng rejoined his family, Boabdil set forward with a 
 heavy heart for his allotted residence in the valley of Por- 
 chena. At two leagues distance, the cavalcade, winding into 
 the skirts of the Alpuxarras, ascended an eminence command- 
 ing the last view of Granada. As they anived at this spot, 
 the Moors paused involuntarily, to take a farewell gaze at 
 their beloved city, which a few steps more would shut from 
 their sight for ever. Never had it appeared so lovely in their 
 eyes. The sunshine, so bright in that transparent climate, 
 lighted up each tower and minaret, and rested gloriously 
 upon the crowning battlements of the Alhambra ; while the 
 vega spread its enamelled bosom of verdure below, glistening 
 with the silver windings of the Xenil. The Moorish cavaliers 
 gazed with a silent agony of tenderness and grief, upon that 
 delicious abode, the scene of their loves and pleasures. While 
 they yet looked, a light cloud of smoke burst forth from the 
 citadel ; and presently a peal of artillery, faintly heard, told 
 that the city w^as taken possession of, and the throne of the 
 Moslem kings was lost for ever. The heart of Boabdil, 
 softened by misfortunes, and cvercharged with grief, could no 
 longer contain itself, " Allah achbar ! God is great ! " 
 said he, but the words of resignation died upon his lips, and 
 he burst into a flood of tears. 
 
 His mother, the intrepid sultana Ayxa la Horra, was in- 
 dignant at his weakness. " You do well," said she, " to 
 weep like a woman, for what you failed to defend like a 
 man!" 
 
 The vizier Aben Comixa endeavoured to console his royal 
 master. " Consider, sire," said he, " that the most signal 
 misfortunes often render men as renowned as the most 
 prosperous achievements, j)ro>'ided they sustain them with 
 magnanimity." The uuhai)i)y manarch, however, was not to 
 be consoled. His tears continued to flow. " Allah achbar!" 
 exclaimed he, '* when did misfortunes ever cquid mine ! " 
 From this circumstance the hill, which is not far from 
 
 
 Iti 
 
 ' „ ■ '• «! 
 
 'ill 
 
 ■St 
 
342 
 
 THE COXQUEST OF OBAMADA. 
 
 Fadul, took the name of Fez Allah Achbar ; but the point of 
 view commanding the last prospect of Crranada is known 
 among Spaniards by the name of el ultimo auspiro del MorOy 
 or, " the last sigh of tlie Moor." 
 
 CHAPTER XCIX. 
 
 WiiBK the Castilian sovereigns had received the keys of 
 Granada from the hands of Boabdil el Chico, the royal army 
 resumed its triumphant march. As it approached the gates 
 of the city, in all the pomp of courtly and chivalrous array, a 
 procession of a different kind came forth to meet it. This 
 was composed of more than five hundred Christian captives, 
 many of whom had languished for years in Moorish dungeons. 
 Pale and emaciated, they came clanking their chains in 
 triumph, and shedding tears of joy. They were received 
 with tenderness by the sovereigns. The king hailed them as 
 good Spaniards ; as men loyal and brave ; as martyrs to the 
 holy cause. The queen distributed liberal relief among them 
 with her own hands, and they passed on before the squadrons 
 of the army, singing hymns of jubilee.* 
 
 The sovereigns did not enter the city, on this day of its 
 surrender ; but waited until it should be fully occupied by 
 their troops, and public tranquillity ensured. The Marquis 
 de Villena, and the Coimt de Tendilla, with three thousand 
 cavahy, and as many infantry, marched in, and took posses- 
 sion, accompanied by the proselyte prince, Cidi Yahye, now 
 known by the Christian appellation of Don Pedro de Granada, 
 who was appointed chief alguazil of the city, and had charge 
 of the Moorish inhabitants ; and by his son, the late Prince 
 Alnaycr, now Don Alonzo de Granada, who was appointed 
 admiral of the fleets. In a little while every battlement 
 glistened with Christian helms and lances, the standard of the 
 faith and of the realm floated from eveiy tower, and the 
 thundering salvos of the ordnance told, that the subjugation 
 of the city was complete. 
 
 llie grandees and cavaliers now knelt, and kissed the hands 
 of the king and queen, and the Prince Juan, and congratulated 
 them on the acquisition of so great a kingdom ; after which 
 the royal procession returned in state to Santa Fe. 
 
 It was on the 6th of January, the day of kings, and festival 
 * Abarca, ubi supra. Zurita, &o. 
 
 Till 
 
 of the I 
 entry. < 
 tonio Agi 
 The ven( 
 glorious 
 moved a] 
 with cha 
 while the 
 seemed e] 
 possessioi 
 streets re< 
 of music, 
 of their c 
 gloiy of 1 
 should be 
 The ro' 
 which ha' 
 sovereigns 
 choir of t 
 which the 
 " Nothing, 
 thankfuhic 
 enabled h 
 that aeem: 
 in that cit 
 so long be 
 plicated fi 
 this glorio 
 of the pio 
 his enemic 
 When 1 
 ascended 
 hy the gre 
 tmbaned i 
 courtiers, 
 fiuned pal 
 tains, its I: 
 with inscr 
 iiantly pai 
 It hadl 
 
 • The wi 
 of thoae of t 
 
THE CASTILIAKS TAKE POSSESSION OF G RAX ADA. 343 
 
 of the Epiphany, that the sovereigns made their triumphal 
 entry. " The king and queen,"' says the worthy Fray An- 
 tonio Agapida, *' looked on this occasion as more than laortal. 
 The venerable ecclesiastics, to whose advice and zeal this 
 glorious conquest ought in a great measure to be attributed, 
 moved along, with hearts swelling with holy exultation, but 
 with chastened and downcast looks of edifying humility ; 
 while the hardy warriors, in tossing plumes and shining steel, 
 seemed elevated with a stern joy, at hnding themselves in 
 possession of this object of so many toils and perils. As the 
 streets resounded with the tramp of steed, and swelling peals 
 of music, the Moors buried themselves in the deepest recesses 
 of their dwellings. There they bewailed in secret the fallen 
 gloiy of their race ; but suppressed their groans, lest they 
 shoiild be heard by their enemies, and increase their triumph*" 
 The royal procession advanced to the principal mosque, 
 which had been consecrated as a cathedral. Here the 
 sovereigns offered up prayers and thanksgivings, and the 
 choir of the royal chapel chanted a triumphant anthem, in 
 which they were joined by all the courtiers and cavaliers. 
 " Nothing," says Fray Antonio Agapida, " could exceed the 
 thankfulness to God of the pious King- Ferdinand, for having 
 enabled him to eradicate from Spain the empire and name of 
 that accm'sed heathen race, and for the elevation of the cross 
 in that city, wherein the impious doctrines of Mahomet had 
 8o long been cherished. In the fervour of his spirit, he sup- 
 plicated from Heaven a continuance of its grace, and that 
 this glorious triumph might be perpetuated."* The prayer 
 of the pious monarch was responded by the people, and even 
 bis enemies were for once convinced of his sincerity. 
 
 When the religious ceremonies were concluded, the court 
 ascended to the stately palace of the Alhambra, and entered 
 by the great gate of justice. The halls, lately occupied by 
 turbaned infidels, now rustled with stately dames and Christian 
 courtiers, who wandered with eager curiosity over this far- 
 famed palace, admiring its verdant courts and giishing foun- 
 tains, its halls decorated with elegant arabesques, and storied 
 with inscriptions, and the splendour of its gilded and bril- 
 L^antly painted ceilings. 
 
 It had been a last request of the unfortunate Boabdil, and 
 
 * The words of Fray Antonio Agapida are little more than an echo 
 of those of the worthy Jesuit, Father Mariana, (lib. zxr. c. 18.) 
 
 .1 
 
844 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF G BAN ADA. 
 
 one which showed how deeply he felt the transition of his 
 fate, that no persom might be permitted to enter or depart by 
 the gate of the Alhambra through wliich he had sallied forth 
 to surrender his capital. His request was granted : the 
 portal was closed up, and remains so to the present day, — a 
 mute memorial of that event.* 
 
 Note. — '.''he existence of this gateway, and the story con- 
 . nectcd with it, are perhaps known to few, but were identified 
 in the researches made to verify this history. The gateway is 
 at the bottom of a great tower, at some distance from the 
 main body of the Alhambra. The tower has been rent and 
 ruined by gunpowder, at the time when the fortiess was 
 evacuated by the French. Great masses lie around, half 
 covered by vines and fig-trees. A poor man, by the name of 
 Matteo Ximenes, who lives in one of the hovels among the 
 ruins of the Alhambra, where his family has lived for many 
 generations, pointed out the gateway, still closed up with 
 stones. He remembered to have heard his father and grand- 
 father say, that it had always been stopped up, and that out 
 of it King Boabdil had gone, when he surrendered Granada. 
 The route of the unfortunate king may be traced from thence 
 across the garden of the convent of Los Martyres, and dowii a 
 ravine beyond, through a street of gipsy caves and hovels, by 
 the gate of Los Molinos, and so on to the Hermitage of St. 
 Sebastian. None but an antiquarian, however, will be able 
 to trace it, unless aided by the humble historian of the place, 
 Matteo Ximenes. 
 
 The Spanish sovereigns fixed their throne in the presence 
 chamber of the palace, so long the scat of Moorish royalty. 
 Hither the principal inhabitants of Granada repaired, to pay 
 them homage, and kiss their hands, in token of vassalage ; 
 and their example was followed by deputies from all the 
 towns and fortresses of the Alpuxarras, which had not hitherto 
 submitted. 
 
 Thus terminated the war of Granada, after ten years of 
 incessant fighing; "equalling," says P'ray Antonio Agapida, 
 *' the far-famed siege of Troy in duration, and ending, like 
 that, in the capture of the city." Thus ended, also, the 
 dominion of the Moors in Spain, after having endui'ed seven 
 hundred and seventy-eight years from the memomble defeat of 
 Roderick, the last of the Goths, on the banks of the Guada- 
 * Garibay, Compend. Hist. lib. xl. cap. 42. 
 
THE CA8TILIAN8 TAKE FOBSESSIOK OF OBANADA. 345 
 
 lete. The authentic Agapida is uncommonly particular in fixing 
 the epoch of this event. '' This great triumph of our holy Ca- 
 tholic faith," according to his computation, " took place in the 
 beginning of January, in the year of our Lord 1492 ; being 
 3655 years from the population of Spain by the patriarch 
 Tubal; 3797 from the general deluge ; 5453 from the creation 
 of the world, according to Hebrew calculation ; and in the 
 month Rabic, in the 897th year of the Hegira, or flight of 
 Mahomet: whom may God confound!" saith the pious 
 Agapida. 
 
 U ' !'l 
 
 i-' 
 
 m 
 
 2 a 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 FATE OF BOABDIL EL CHICO. 
 
 The Chronicle of the Conquest of Granada is finished: 
 but the reader may be desirous of knowing the subsequent 
 fortunes of some of the principal personages. The unfortu- 
 nate Boabdil retired to the valley of Porchena, where a small 
 but fertile territory had been allotted him; comprising several 
 towns, with all their rights and revenues. Great estates had 
 likewise been bestowed on his vizier, Josef Aben Comixa, 
 and his valiant relation and friend, Josef Venegas, both of 
 whom resided near him. Were it in the heart of man, in 
 the enjoyment of present competence, to forget past splendour, 
 Boabdil might at length have been happy. Dwelling in the 
 bosom of a delightful valley, surrounded by obedient vassals, 
 devoted friends, and a loving family, he might have looked 
 back upon his past career as upon a troubled and terrific 
 dream; and might have thanked his stars, that he had at 
 length awaked to sweet and tranquil security. But the 
 dethroned prince could never forget that he had once been a 
 monarch; and the rcmembrnnce of the regal splendours of 
 Granada made all present comforts contemptible in his eyes. 
 No exertions were spared by Ferdinand and Isabella, to in- 
 duce him to embrace the Catholic religion : but he remained 
 true to the faith of his fathers; and it added not a little to 
 his humiliation, to live a vassal under Christian sovereigns. 
 
 It is probable, that his residence in the kingdom was 
 equally irksome to the politic Feidinand; who could not feel 
 perfectly seciu*e in his newly conquered territories, while 
 there was one within their bounds who might revive preten- 
 sions to the throne. A private bargain was therefore made, 
 in the year 1496 between Ferdinand and Josef Aben Comixa; 
 in which the latter, as vizier of Boabdil, undertook to dispose 
 of his master's scanty ten-itory for eighty thousand ducats of 
 gold. This, it is affirmed, was done without the consent or 
 knowledge of Boabdil; but the vizier probably thought he 
 was acting for the best. The shrewd Ferdinand does not 
 appear to hare made any question about the right of the 
 
rJLTE OF BOABDIL EL ClirCO. 
 
 347 
 
 vizier to make the sale; but paid the money with secret cx- 
 ohation. Josef Aben Comixa loaded the treasure upon mules, 
 and departed joyfully for the Alpuxarras. He spread the 
 money in triumph before Boabdil. *' Senior," said he, " I 
 have observed, that, as long as y>>u live here, you are exposed 
 to constant peril. The Moors aie rash and irritable. They 
 may make some sudden insurrection, elevate your standard 
 as a pretext, and thus overwhelm you and your friends 
 with utter ruin. I have observed also, that you pine away 
 with grief; being continually reminded in this country, that 
 you were once its sovereign, but never more must hope to 
 reign. I have put an end to these evils. Your territory is 
 sold. Behold the price of it. With this gold you may buy 
 £ur greater possessions in Africa, where you may live in honovr 
 and security." 
 
 When Boabdil heard these words, he burst into a sudden 
 transport of rage; and, drawing his cimeter, would have 
 sacrificed the officious Josef on the spot, had not the .attend- 
 ants interfered, and hurried the vizier tnxax his presence. 
 
 Boabdil was not of a vindictive spirit, and his anger soon 
 passed away. He saw that the evil was done, and he knew 
 the spirit of the politic Ferdinand too well, to hope that he 
 would retract the bargain. Gathering together the mcmey, 
 therefore, and all his jewels and precious efiPects, he departed 
 with his family and household for a port, where a vessel had 
 been careiully provided by the Castilian king to transport 
 them to Africa. 
 
 A crowd of his former subjects witnessed his embarkation. 
 As the sails were imfurled, and swelled to the breeze, aad 
 the vessel parted from the land, the spectators would fain 
 have given him a parting cheering ; but the humbled state of 
 their once proud sovereign forced itself upon their minds, and 
 the ominous surname of his youth rose involuntarily to their 
 tongues. " Farewell, Boabdil! Allah preserve thee, Bl 
 Zogoybi!" burst spontaneously from their lips. The unlucky 
 appellation sank into the heart of the expatriated monarch; 
 and tears dimmed his eyes, as the snowy summits of the 
 mountains of Granada gradually faded from his view. 
 
 He was received with welcome at the court of his relation, 
 Muley Ahmed, King of Fez, and resided for many yean in 
 his territories. How he passed his life, whether repining or 
 resigned, history does not mention. The last we find recorded 
 
 2a 2 
 
 'i 
 
 11" 
 
 ■ ! 
 
 n 
 
348 
 
 THE COXQUEST OF GBA.XADA. AFFEXDIX. 
 
 of him is in the year 1536, thirty-four years after the sur- 
 render of Granada ; when he followed the King of Fez to the 
 field, to quell the rebellion of two brothers, named Xerifes. 
 llie armies came in sight of each other on the banks of the 
 Guadiswed, at the ford of Bacuba. The river was deep ; the 
 banks were high and broken. For three days the armies re- 
 mained firing at each other across the stream, neither party 
 venturing to attempt the dangerous ford. 
 
 At length the King of Fez divided his army into three 
 buttalions ; the first led on by his son and by Boabdil el 
 C'luco. They boldly dashed across the ford, scrambled up the 
 opposite bank, and attempted to keep the enemy employed, 
 until the other battalions should have time to cross. The 
 rebel army, however, attacked them with such fury, that the 
 son of the King of Fez and several of the bravest alcaydes 
 were slain upon the spot, and multitudes driven back into the 
 river, which was already crowded with passing troops. A 
 ■dreadful confusion took place ; the horse trampled upon the 
 foot ; the enemy pressed on them with fearful slaughter ; 
 those who escaped the sword perished by the stream. The 
 river was choked by the dead bodies of men and horses, and 
 by the scattered baggage of the army. In this scene of hor- 
 rible carnage fell Boabdil, truly called £1 Zogoybi, or the 
 unlucky : " an instance," says the ancient chronicler, ** of the 
 scornful caprice of fortune ; dying in defence of the kingdom 
 of another, after wanting spirit to die in defence of his own."* 
 
 Note. — A portrait of Boabdil el Chico is to be seen in the 
 picture gallery of the Gcneralife. lie is represented with a 
 mild, handsome face, a fair complexion, and yellow hair. 
 His dress is of yellow brocade, relieved with black velvet, and 
 he has a black velvet cap, surmounted with a crown. In the 
 armoury of Madrid are two suits of armour, said to have be- 
 longed to him ; one of solid steel, with very little ornament ; 
 the morion closed. From the proportions of these suits of 
 Armour, he must have been of full stature and vigorous form. 
 
 DEATH OF THE MARQUIS OF CADIZ. 
 
 The renowned Koderigo Ponce de Leon, Marquis Duke of 
 Ctdis, was unquestionably the most distinguished among the 
 
 • Marmol. Deicrip. de Afrie»,p. i. lib. it cap. 40. Idem, Hist Reb. 
 «U lot Mores, Ub. i. cap. 21. 
 
DEATH OF THE KABQVI8 OF CADIZ. 
 
 349 
 
 and 
 
 cavaliers of Spain, for his zeal, enterprise, and heroism in the 
 great crusade of Granada. He began the war by the cap- 
 ture of Alhama ; he was engaged in almost evorj' inroad and 
 siege of importance during its continuance ; and he was pre- 
 sent at the surrender of the capital, which was the closing 
 scene of the conquest. The renown he thus acquired was 
 sealed by his death, in the forty-eighth year of his age, which 
 happened almost immediately at the close of his triumphs, 
 and before a leaf of his laurels had time to wither. lie died 
 at his palace, in the city of Seville, on the twenty-seventh 
 day of August, 1492, but a few months after the surrender of 
 Granada, and of an illness c.iused by the exposure and fatigues 
 he had undergone in this memorable war. That honest chro- 
 nicler, Andres Bernaldes, the curate of Los Palacios, who was 
 a contemporary of the marquis, draws his portrait from actual 
 knowledge and observation. " He was universally cited," 
 says he, " as the most perfect model of chivalrous virtue of 
 the age. He was temperate, chaste, and rigidly devout ; a 
 benignant commander, a valiant defender of his vassals, a 
 great lover of justice, and an enemy to all flatterers, liars, 
 robbers, traitors, and poltroons. His ambition was of a lofty 
 kind; he sought to distinguish himself and his family by 
 heroic and resounding deeds, and to increase the patrimony 
 of his ancestors by the acquisition of castles, domains, vas- 
 sals, and other princely possessions. His recreations were all 
 of a warlike nature : he delighted in geometry, as applied to 
 fortifications, and spent much time and treasure in erecting 
 and repairing fortresses. He relished music, but of a military 
 kind; the sound of clarions and sackbuts, of drums and 
 trumpets. Like a true cavalier, he was a protector of the 
 sex on all occasions, and an injurid woman never applied to 
 him in vain for redress. His prowess was so well known, 
 and his courtesy to the fair, that the ladies of the court, when 
 they accompanied the queen to the wars, rejoiced to find 
 themselves under his protection ; for, wherever his banner 
 was displayed, the Moors dreaded to adventure. He was a 
 faithfiU and devoted friend, but a formidable enemy ; for ho 
 was slow to forgive, and his vengeance was persevering and 
 terrible." 
 
 The dj'ath of this goml cavalier ^ preiul giiof and lamenta- 
 tion throughout all ranks : for h'> was univermdly honoured 
 and beloved His relations, dei)cndeut8, and companions iu 
 
 
 i 
 
 n 
 
 ■\ <■ 
 
 ■•!' 
 
 f. 
 
S90 
 
 IHK COKQUEST OF OBANADA. APPEKDIX. 
 
 arms put on mourning for his loss : and so numerous were 
 tliey, that half of Seville was clad in black. None, however, 
 deplored his death more deeply and sincerely than his friend 
 and chosen companion, Don Alonzo de Aguilar. 
 
 The funeral ceremonies were of the most solemn and sump- 
 tuous kind. The body of the marquis was arrayed in a costly 
 shirt, a doublet of brocade, a sayo, or long robe of black velvet, a 
 marlota, or Moorish tunic of brocade, that reached to the feet, 
 and scarlet stockings. His sword, superbly gilt, was girded 
 to his side, as he used to wear it when in the field. Thus 
 magnificently attired, the body was enclosed in a coffin, which 
 was covered with black velvet, and decorated with a cross of 
 white damask. It was then placed on a sumptuous bier, in 
 the centre of the great hall of the palace. 
 
 Here the duchess made great lamentation over the body of 
 her lord, in which she was joined by her train of damsels and 
 attendants, as well ns by the ])age8 and esquires, and innu- 
 merable vassals of the marquis. 
 
 In the close of the evening, just before the " Ave Maria," 
 the funeral train issued from the palace. Ten banners were 
 borne around the bier, the particular trophies of the marquis, 
 won from the Moors by his valour in individual enterprises, 
 before King Ferdinand had commenced the war of Granada. 
 Tha processioTi was swolUd by an immense train of bishops, 
 priests, and friars of different orders, together with the civil 
 and military authorities, and all the chivalry of Seville; 
 headed by the Count of Cifucntes, at that time intendcnte, or 
 commander of the city. It moved slowly and solemnly 
 through the streets, stopping occasionally, and chanting lita- 
 nies and responses. Two hundred and forty wp\ m tapers 
 shed a light like the day about the bier. The balconies and 
 windows were crowded with la<lies, who shed tears as the 
 ftmeral train passed by ; while the women of the lower classes 
 were loud in their lamentations, as if bewailing the loss of a 
 fiither or a brother. On approaching the convent of St. 
 Augustine, the monks came forth M-ith the cross and tapers, 
 and eight censers, and conducted the body into the church, 
 where it lay in state, \mtil all the vigils were performed by 
 the different orders, af\er which it was deposited in the family 
 tomb of the Ponces in the same church, and the ten banners 
 were suspended over the sepulchre.* 
 
 * Cara do los Palacios, c. 104. 
 
LEGEND OF ALONZO DE AG U I LAB. 
 
 351 
 
 His tomb, with the banners mouldcrinp^ above it, remained 
 for ages, an object of veneration with all who had read or 
 heard of his virtues and achievements. In the year 1810, 
 however, the chapel was sacked hy the French, its altars 
 overturned, and the sepulchres of the family of the Ponces 
 shattered to pieces. The present Duchess of Benavente, the 
 worthy descendant of this illustrious and heroic line, has 
 since piously collected the ashes of her ancestors, restored 
 the altar, and repaired the chapel. The sepulchres, however, 
 were utterly destroyed, and an in8cri{)tion of gold letters, oii 
 the wall of the chiipel, to the right of the altar, is now all 
 that denotes the place of sepulture of the brave lloderigo 
 Ponce de Leon. 
 
 THE LEGEND OF THE DEATH OF DON ALONZO 
 
 DE AGUILAR. 
 
 To such as feel an interest in the fortunes of the valiant 
 Don Alonzo de Aguilar, the chosen friend and companion in 
 arms of Ponce de Leon, Miirquis of Cadiz, and one of the 
 most distinguished heroes of the war of Granada, a few par- 
 ticulars of his remarkable fiite will not be unacceptable. 
 They are found among the manuscripts of the worthy Padre 
 Fray Antonio Agapida, and appear to have been ap[)ended to 
 his chronicle. 
 
 For several years after the conquest of Granada, the country 
 remained feverish and unquiet. The zealotis efforts of the 
 Catholic clergy to effect the conversion of the infidels, and 
 the pious coercion used for that purj)08e by government, ex- 
 asperated the stubborn Moors of th(! mountains. Several 
 zealous missionaries ^«rere mall rented, and, in the town of 
 Dayrin, two of them were seized, nnd rxhorted with mcuy 
 menaces, to embrnor thc: iioslen; ''aith. v)n their resolut<ly 
 refusing they were killed with staffs and stones, by the Moorish 
 women and children, and their iMxlies burnt to ashes.** 
 
 Upon this event, a body of Christian cavaliers assembled 
 in Andalusia, to the number of eight hundred; and, without 
 waiting for orders from tlu* king, n'venged the drath of these 
 martyrs, by plundering an<l laying waste the Moorisli towns 
 and villages. The Moors fled to the mountains, and their 
 
 * Curade lot PalAcioH, c. 1C6. 
 
 f: 
 
 i. ff 
 
 t ' . i 
 
 V 
 
 i 
 
 
 I'- 
 i 
 
M2 
 
 THE COKQUEST OF OTLA.VA.TJi, APPENDIX. 
 
 cause was espoused by many of their nation, who inhabited 
 those rugged regions. The storm of rebellion began to gather, 
 and mutter its thunders in the Alpuxarras. They were 
 echoed from the Serrania of Konda, ever ready for rebellion ; 
 but the strongest hold of the insurgents was in the Sienv 
 Vermeja, or chain of red mountains, lying near the sea, the 
 savage rocks and precipices of which may be seen from 
 Gibraltar. 
 
 When King Ferdinand heard of these tumults, he issued a 
 proclamation, ordering all the Moors of the insiu'gent regions 
 to leave them within ten days, and repair to Castile ; giving 
 secret instructions, however, that those who should volun- 
 tarily embrace the Christian faith, might be permitted to 
 remain. At the same time he ordered Don Alonzo de Agui- 
 lar, and the Coimts of Urefia and Cifuentes, to march against 
 the rebels. 
 
 Don Alonzo de Agiiilar was at Cordova when he received 
 the commands of the king. " What force is allotted us for 
 this expedition ?" said he. On being told, he perceived that 
 the number of troops was far from adequate. " When a man 
 is dead," said he, " we send four men into his house, to bring 
 forth the body. We are now sent to chastise these Moors, 
 who are alive, vigorous, in open rebellion, and ensconced in 
 their castles ; and they do not give us man to man." These 
 words of the brave Alonzo de Aguilar were afterwards fre- 
 quently repeated ; but, though he saw the desperate nature 
 of the enterprise, he did not hesitate to undertake it. 
 
 Don Alonzo was, at that time, in the fifty-first year of his 
 age. He yma a veteran >varrior, in whom the fire of youth 
 was yet unquenched, though tempered by experience. The 
 greater part of his life had been passed in the camp and in 
 the field, until danger was as his natural element. His mus- 
 cular frame had acquired the firmness of iron, without the 
 rigidity of age. His armour and weapons seemed to have 
 become a part of his nature ; and he sat like a man of steel 
 on his powerful war horse. 
 
 He took with him, on this expedition, his son, Don Pedro 
 de Cordova ; a youth of bold and generous spirit, in tho 
 freshness of his days, and armed and arrayed with all the 
 bravery of a young Spanish cavalier. When the populace of 
 Cordova Iwheld the veteran father, the warrior of a thousand 
 battles, leading forth his youthful sou to the field, they be- 
 
LBOEKD OF ALONZO DE AGUILAB. 
 
 35S 
 
 iteel 
 
 dro 
 tho 
 the 
 of 
 uind 
 bc- 
 
 tiiought themselves of the family appellation. " Behold,'^ 
 cried they, *' the eagle teaching his young to fly ! Long live 
 the valiant line of Aguilar !" * 
 
 The prowess of Don Alonzo and of his companions in arms 
 was renowned throughout the Moorish towns. At their ap- 
 proach, therefore, numbers of the Moors submitted, and 
 hastened to Ronda to embrace Christianity. Among the 
 mountaineers, however, there were many of the Gandules, a 
 fierce tribe from Africa, too proud of spirit to bend their 
 necks to the yoke. At their head was a Moor, named El 
 Feri of Ben Estepar, renowned for strength and courage. At 
 his instigations, his followers gathered together their families 
 and most precious effects ; placed them on mules, and, driv- 
 ing before them their flocks and herds, abandoned their val- 
 leys, and retired up the craggy passes of the Sierra Vermcja. 
 On the summit was a fertile plain, surrounded by rocks and 
 precipices, which formed a natural fortress. Here El Feri 
 
 E laced all the women and children, and all the property. By 
 is orders, his followers piled great stones on the rocks and 
 cliffs, which commanded the defiles and the steep side of tho 
 mountain, and prepared to defend every pass that led to his 
 place of refuge. 
 
 The Christian commanders arrived, and pitched their 
 camp before the town of Monardo ; a strong place, curiously 
 fortified, and situated at tho foot of the highest part of the 
 Sierra Vermeja. Here they remained for several days, unable 
 to compel a surrender. They were separated from the skirts 
 of the mountain by a deep barranca or ravine, at the bottom 
 of which flowed a small stream. The Moors, commanded by 
 El Fori, drew down from their mountain height, and re- 
 mained on the opposite side of the brook, to defend a pass 
 which led up to their strong-hold. 
 
 One afternoon, a number of Christian soldiers, in mere 
 bravado, seized a banner, crossed the brook, and, scrambling 
 up the opposite bank, attacked the Moors. They were fol- 
 lowed by numbers of their companions ; some in aid, some 
 in emulation, but most in hope of booty. A sharp action 
 ensued on the mountain side. The Moors were greatly su- 
 perior in number, and had the vantage ground. VVhen the 
 Counts of Urena and C fuentes beheld this skimuHh, they 
 asked Don Alonzo dc Aguilar his opinion. " My opinion,' ' 
 * Agttilar, the Spanish for eaglo. 
 
 < 
 
 
 
 la. IT 
 
 .Hi, ' 
 
 V 
 
354 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBAMADA. APPENDIX. 
 
 said he, "was given at Cordova, and remains the same. 
 This is a desperate enterprise. However, the Moors are at 
 hand ; and if they suspect weakness ia us, it will increase 
 their courage and our peril. Forward then to the attack, 
 and I trust in God we shall gain a victory!" So saying, he 
 led his troops into the battle.* 
 
 On the skirts of the mountains were several level places, 
 like terraces. Here the Christians pressed valiantly upon 
 the Moors, and had the advantage ; but the latter retreated to 
 the steep and craggy heights, from whence they hurled 
 darts and rocks upon their assailants. They defended their 
 passes and defiles with ferocious valour ; but were driven 
 from height to height, until they reached the plain on the 
 summit of the moimtain, where their wives and children 
 were sheltered. Here they would have made a stand ; but 
 Alonzo de Aguilar, with his son Don Pedro, charged upon 
 them at the head of three hundred men, and put them to 
 flight, with dreadful carnage. While they were pursuing the 
 flying enemy, the rest of the army, thinking the victory 
 achieved, dispersed themselves over the little plain in search 
 of plunder. They pursued the shrieking females, tearing off 
 their necklaces, bracelets, and anklets of gold; and they 
 found su much treasure of various kinds collected in this 
 spot, that they threw by their armour and weapons, to load 
 themselves with booty. 
 
 Evening was closiug : the Christians, intent upon spoil, had 
 ceased to pm'sue the Moors, and the latter were arrested in 
 their flight by the cries of their wives and children. Their 
 fierce leader. El Feri, threw himself before them. " Friends, 
 soldiers,'* cried h3, " whither do you fly ? whither can you 
 seek refuge, where the enemy cannot follow you ? Your wives, 
 your children, are behind you ; turn and c^ f?nd them: you 
 have no chance for safety but from the weapons iu your 
 hands!" 
 
 The Moors turned at his words. They beheld the Christians 
 scattered about the plain, many of them without armoiu", and all 
 encumbered with spoil. " New is the time," shouted El 
 Feri ; charge upon them while laden with your plunder ! I 
 will open a path for you !" He rushed to the attack, fol- 
 lowed by his Moors, with shouts und cries, that echoed 
 through the mountains. The scattered Christians were seized 
 
 * Bl«da, Ub. ▼. cap. 26. 
 
LEGEND OF ALONZO D£ AOUILAB. 
 
 355 
 
 with a panic, and, throwing down their booty, began to fly 
 in all directions. Don Alonzo de Aguilar advanced his ban- 
 ner, and endeavoured to rally them. Finding his horse of no 
 ayail in these rocky heights, he dismounted, and caused his 
 men to do the same. He had a small band of tried followers, 
 with which he opposed a bold front to the Moors, calling on 
 the scattered troo{).s to rally in the rear. 
 
 Night had completely closed. It prevented the Moors 
 from seeing the smallness of the force with which they were 
 contending ; and Don Alonzo and his cavaliers dealt their 
 blows so vigorously, that, aided by the darkness, they seenxed 
 multiplied to ten times their nuniher. Unfortunately, a 
 small cask of gunpowder blew up near to the seeiii; oj jintion. 
 It shed a momentary but brilliant light over all the plain, 
 and on every rock and cliff. The Moors beheld with sui-prise 
 that they were opposed by a mere handful of men, and that 
 the greater part of the Christians were flying from the field. 
 They put up loud shouts of triumph. While some continued 
 the conflict with redoubled ardour, others pursued the fugi- 
 tives, hurling after them stones and darts, and discharging 
 showers of arrows. Many of the Christians, in their terror, 
 and their ignorance of the mountains, rushed headlong from 
 the brinks of precipices, and were dashed in pieces. 
 
 Don Alonzo de Aguilar still maintained his ground ; but 
 while party of the Moors assailed him in front, others galled 
 him with all kinds of missiles from the impending clifls. 
 Some of the cavaliers, seeing the hopeless nature of the con- 
 flict, projwsed that they should abandon the height, and re- 
 treat down the mountain. " No," said Don Alonzo. proudly, 
 •' never did the banner uf the house of Aguilar retreat one 
 foot in the field of battle." He had scarcely uttered these 
 words, when his son Don Pedro was stretched at his feet. A 
 stone hurled from a clifl* had struck out two of his teeth, and 
 a lance passed quivering through his thigh. The youth at- 
 tempted to rise, and, with one knee on the ground, to fight 
 by the side of his father. Don Alonzo, finding him wounded, 
 iu^e<l hira to quit the field. " Fly, my son," said he. " Let 
 us not put everything at venture uj)on one hazard : conduct 
 thyself as a good Christian, and live to comfort and honour 
 thy mother." 
 
 Don Pedro still refu.sed to quit him ; whereupon Don 
 Alonzo ordered several of his followers to bear him ofi* by 
 
 It. ' ^1 
 
 I; 
 
 ff": 
 
356 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF OBAN ADA. APPENDIX. 
 
 \l\ 
 
 force. His friend, Don Francisco Alvarez, of Cordova, taking 
 him in his arms, conveyed him to the quai'tcrs of the Count of 
 Ureiia, who had halted on the heights, at some distance from 
 the scene of battle, for the purpose of rallying and succouring 
 the fiigitives. Almost at the same moment, the count be- 
 held his own son, Don Pedro Giron, brought in grievously 
 wounded. 
 
 In the meantime, Don Alonzo, with two hundred cavaliers, 
 maintained the unequal contest. Surrounded by foes, they 
 fell, one after another, like so many noble stags encircled by 
 the hunters. Don Alonzo was the last survivor. He was 
 without horse, and almost without armour ; his corslet un- 
 laced, and his bosom gashed with wounds. Still he kept a 
 brave front towards the enemy, and retiring between two 
 rocks, defended himself with such valour that the slain lay in 
 a heap before him. 
 
 He was assailed in this retreat by a Moor of surpassing 
 strength and fierceness. The contest was for some time 
 doubtful ; but Don Alonzo received a wound in the head, and 
 another in the breast, that made him stagger. Closing and 
 grappling with his foe, they had a desperate struggle, until 
 the Christian cavalier, exhausted by his wounds, fell upon his 
 back. He still retained his grasp upon his enemy. " Think 
 not," cried he, " thou hast an easy prize ; know that I am 
 Don Alonzo, he of Aguilar ! " " If thou art Don Alonzo," 
 replied the Moor, " know that I am El Feri, of Ben Estepar!" 
 They continued their deadly struggle, and both drew their 
 daggers: but Don Alonzo was exhausted by seven ghastly 
 wounds. While he was yet struggling, his heroic soul de- 
 parted from his body, and he expired in the grasp of the 
 Moor. 
 
 Thus fell Alonzo de Aguilar, the mirror of Andalusian chi- 
 valry ; one of the most powerful grandees of Spain, for person, 
 blood, estate, and office. For forty years he had waged suc- 
 cessful wars upon the Moors : in childhood, by his hoiischold 
 and retainers ; in manhood, by the r rowess of his arm, and the 
 wisdom and valour of his spirit. His pennon had always 
 been foremost in danger; he had been general of armies, 
 viceroy of Andalusia, and the author of glorious enterprises, in 
 which kings were vanquished and mighty alcavdes and war- 
 riors laid low. He had slain many Moslem chiefs with his 
 own arm, and, among others, the renowned AU Atar, of Loxo, 
 
 fighting 
 ment, c 
 prowess 
 in batt] 
 Abarca, 
 reward 
 armed I 
 munion. 
 The 3 
 Christia 
 was witl 
 bring oi 
 Fortunai 
 the rear 
 who ha( 
 assistant 
 down thi 
 own troc 
 fusion a< 
 taining c 
 of the M: 
 he maint 
 violent i 
 assaults 
 Moors ci 
 mountaii 
 It was 
 ascertain 
 many va 
 Ramirez 
 throughc 
 his valou 
 all other 
 fate of 
 Cordova, 
 battle; i 
 of Don 
 with a h 
 whelmin 
 of the n 
 perchanc 
 
LEGEND OF ALOMZO DE AOUILAB. 
 
 357 
 
 .!»» 
 
 fighting foot to foot, on the banks of the Xenil. His judg- 
 ment, discretion, magnanimity, and justice, vied with his 
 prowess. He was the fifth lord of his warlike house, that fell 
 m battle with the Moors. " His soul," observes Padre 
 Abarca, " it is believed, ascended to heaven, to receive the 
 reward of so Christian a captain: for that very day he had 
 armed himself with the sacraments of confession and com- 
 munion."* 
 
 The Moors, elated with their success, pursued the fugitive 
 Christians down the defiles and sides of the mountains. It 
 was with the utmost difficulty that the Count de Urena could 
 bring off a remnant of his forces from that disastrous height. 
 Fortunately, on the lower slope of the mountain they found 
 the rear-guard of the army, led by the Count de Cifuentes, 
 who had crossed the brook and the ravine to come to their 
 assistance. As the fugitives came flying in headlong terror 
 down the mountain, it was with difficulty the count kept his 
 own troops from giving way in panic, and retreating in con- 
 fusion across the brook. He succeeded, however, in main- 
 taining order, in rallying the fugitives, and checking the fury 
 of the Moors. Then, taking his station on a rocky eminence, 
 he maintained his post until morning, sometimes sustaining 
 violent attacks, at other times rushing forth and making 
 assaults upon the enemy. When morning dawned, the 
 Moors ceased to combat, and drew up to the summit of the 
 mountain. 
 
 It was then that the Christians had time to breathe, and to 
 ascertain the dreadful loss they had sustained. Among the 
 many valiant cavaliers who had fallen, was Don Irancisco 
 Ramirez of Madrid, who had been captain-general of artillery 
 throughout the war of Granada, and contributed greatly, by 
 his valour and ingenuity, to that renowned conquest. But 
 all other griefs and cares were forgotten in anxiety for the 
 fate of Don Alonzo de Aguikr. His son, Don Pedro de 
 Cordova, had been brought off with great difficulty from the 
 battle ; and afterwards lived to be Marquis of Priego. But 
 of Don Alonzo nothing was known, except that he was left 
 with a handful of cavaliers, fighting valiantly against an over- 
 whelming force. As the rising sun lighted up the red clifi^ 
 of the mountains, the soldiers watched with anxious eyes, if 
 perchance his pennon might be descried, fluttering from any 
 * Abarca, Anales de Aragon, rey. zzx. cap. 2. 
 
 ■i » 
 
358 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GBAKADA. APFEKDIX. 
 
 
 precipice or defile : but nothing of the kind was to be seen. 
 The trumpet caU. was repeatedly sounded : but empty echoes 
 alone repUed. A silence reigned about the mountain summit, 
 which showed that the deadly strife was over. Now and then 
 a wounded warrior came, dragging his feeble steps from 
 among the cliffs and rocks; but, on being questioned, he 
 shook his head mournfully, and could tell nothing of the £Ette 
 of his commander. 
 
 The tidings of this disastrous defeat, and of the perilous 
 situation of the survivors, reached King Ferdinand at Gra- 
 nada. He immediately marched, at the head of all the chi- 
 valiy of the court, to the mountains of Ronda. His presence, 
 with a powerful force, soon put an end to the rebellion. A 
 part of the Moors were suffered to ransom themselves, and to 
 embark for Africa ; others were made to embrace Christianity; 
 and those of the town where the Christian missionaries had 
 been massacred were sold as slaves. From the conquered 
 Moors, the mournful but heroic end of Don Alonzo de Aguilar 
 was ascertained. On the morning after the battle, when the 
 Moors came to strip and bury the dead, the body of Don 
 Alonzo was foimd among those of more than two hundred of 
 his followers, many of them alcaydes and cavaliers of distinc- 
 tion. Though the person of Don Alonzo was well known to 
 the Moors, being so distinguished among them, both in peace 
 and war, yet it was so covered and disfigured with wounds, 
 that it could with difficulty be recognised. They ])reserved it 
 with care, and, on making their submission, delivered it up to 
 King Ferdinand. It was conveyed with great state to Cor- 
 dova, amidst the tears and lamentations of all Andalusia. 
 When the funeral train entered Cordova, and the inhabitants 
 saw the coffin containing the remains of their favourite hero, 
 and the war horse, led in mournful trappings, on which they 
 had so lately seen him sally forth from their gates, there was 
 a general burst of grief throughout the city. The body was 
 interred with great pomp and solemnity in the church of St. 
 Hy})olito. Many years afterwards, his grand-daughter. Dona 
 Catalina of Aguilar and Cordova, Marchioness of Priego, 
 caused his tomb to be altered. On examining the body, the 
 head of a lance was found among the bones, received, without 
 doubt, among the wounds of his last mortal combat. The 
 name of this accomplished and Christian cavalier has ever 
 remained a popubu: theme of the chronicler and poet ; and is 
 
LEGEND OF ALOKZO DE AGUILAB. 
 
 359 
 
 endeared to the p\ibHc memory by many of the historical 
 ballads and songs of his country. For a long time the people 
 of Cordova were indignant at the brave Count de Urena, who, 
 they thought, had abandoned Don Alonzo in his extremity ; 
 but the Castilian monarch acquitted him of all charge of the 
 kind, and continued him in honour and office. It was proved 
 that neither he nor his people could succour Don Alonzo, or 
 even know of his peril, from the darkness of the night. 
 There is a mournful little Spanish ballad or romance, which 
 breathes the public grief on this occasion, and the populace, on 
 the return of the Count de Urena to Cordova, assailed him 
 with one of its plaintive and reproachful verses : 
 
 " Decid Conde de Urefla, 
 Don Alonzo donde queda V* 
 
 Count Urefla ! Count Urefla ! 
 Tell us, where is Don Alonzol 
 
 * Bleda, lib. v. cap. 26. 
 
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LEGENDS 
 
 OF THB 
 
 CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 la 
 
«Mi**i^>^**' 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 TO Ta LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SFAIN. 
 
 Fsw eTents in history have been so signal and striking in 
 tiieir main circumstances, and so overwheuning and enduring 
 in their consequences, as that of the conquest of Spain by 
 the Saracens; yet there are few where the motives, cha- 
 racters, and actions of the agents have been enveloped in 
 more doubt and contradiction. As in the memorable story of 
 the fidl of Troy, we have to nutkc out as well as we can^ the 
 Teritable details through the mists of poetic fiction; yet 
 poetry has so combined itself with, and lent its magic colour- 
 11^ to, every fact, that to strip it away, would be to reduce 
 the story to a meagre skeleton, and rob it of all its charma. 
 The storm of Moslem invasion that swept so suddenly over 
 fhe peninsula, silenced for a time the faint voice of the Muse, 
 ai^ drove the sons of learning from their cells. The pen was 
 thrown aside to grasp the sword and spear; and men were too 
 much taken up with battling against the evils which beset them 
 on every side, to find time or inclination to record them. 
 
 When thj nation had recovered in some degree fir<»ga 
 tiie effects of this astounding blow, or rather, had become 
 accustomed to the tremendous reverse which it produced, and 
 mge men sought to inquire and write the particulars, it was 
 too late to ascertain them in their exact verity. The gloom 
 and melancholy that had overshadowed the land, had given 
 birth to a thousand superstitious fancies ; the woes and terrors 
 of the past were clothed with supernatural miracles and por^ 
 tents, wad the actors in the fearful drama had already assuhied 
 the dubious characteristics of romance. Or if a writer firom 
 among the conquerors undertook to touch upon the theme, it 
 was embellished with all the wild extravagances of an oriental 
 imagination ; which afterwards stole into the graver works 
 of ue monkish historians. 
 
 Hence the earliest chronicles which treat of the downfidl 
 of Spain are apt to be tinctured with those saintly miraoles 
 which savour of the pious labours of the cloister, or thoae 
 fiuMiiful fictions that betray their Arabian authors. Yet firom 
 these apocryphal sources, the most legitimate and accredited 
 Spanish histories have taken their rise, as pure rivers may 
 be traced up to the fens and mantled pools of a morass. 
 
 2 B 2 
 
 
 s? :t 
 
 % 
 
 i 
 
 t'- 
 W >l 
 
PBEFACE. 
 
 It is true, the authors, with cautious discrimination, have dis- 
 carded those particulars too startling for belief, and have 
 culled only such as, from their probability and congruity, 
 might be safely recorded as historical facts ; yet scarce one of 
 these but has been connected in the original with some 
 romantic fiction, and, even in its divorced state, bears traces 
 of its former alliance. 
 
 To discard, however, everything wild and marvellous in 
 this portion of Spanish history, is to discard some of its most 
 beffotiful, instructive, and national featw*es ; it is to judge of 
 Spain by the standard of probability suited to tamer and 
 more prosaic countries. Spain is virtually a land of poetry 
 and romance, where every-day life partakes of adventure, and 
 where the least agitation or excitement carries every thing 
 up into extravagant enterprise and daring exploit. The 
 Spaniards, in all ages, have been of swelling and bra^;art 
 spirit, soaring in thought, pompous in word, and vaUant, 
 though vainglorious, in deed. Their heroic aims have tiuns- 
 ■ cended the cooler conceptions of their neighbours, and their 
 reckless daring has borne them on to achievements which 
 prudent enterprise could never have accomplished. Since 
 the time, too, of the conquest end occupation of their country 
 by the Arabs, a strong infusion of oriental magnificence ha» 
 entered into the national character, and rendered the Spaniard 
 distinct from every other nation of Europe. 
 
 In the following pages, therefore, the author has ventured 
 to dip more deeply into the enchanted fountains of old 
 Spanish chronicle, than has usually been done by those who, 
 in modem times, have treated of the eventful period of the 
 conquest ; but, in so doing, he trusts he will illustittte more 
 frdly the character of the people and the times. He hae 
 thought proper to throw tnese records into the form of 
 legcndsi not claiming for them the authenticity of sober his- 
 tory, yet giving nothing that has not historical foundation. 
 All the facts herein contained, however extravagant some of 
 them may be deemed, will be found in the works of sage and 
 reverend chroniclers of yore, growing side by side with long 
 admowledged truths, and might be supported by learned and 
 imposing references in the maiigin. 
 
 CHAP 
 
 . or 
 
 CHAP 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 CHAP, 
 heai 
 
 CHAP. 
 ^,< Piia 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 CHAP, 
 ■ionj 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 —Cd 
 CHAP. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 CHAP, 
 fibd^ 
 
«mmmmm 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 OF tBS LEGENDS OF THE CONOUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 P»ge 
 CHAP. I.— Of the ancient inhabitanta of Spain. Of the mianile 
 
 of Witiza the Wicked 861 
 
 CHAP. II.— The Rise of Don Roderick. His Qovemment . 864 
 
 CHAP. III.— Of the Lores of Roderick and the Princeaa Elyata . 367 
 
 CHAP. IV.-Of Count Julian 871 
 
 CHAP, v.— TheStoryofPlorinda . . . .872 
 
 CHAP. VI.— Don Roderick receives an eztraordinaiy Embassy . 377 
 
 CHAP. YII.— Stoiy of the marrellous and portentous Tower . 880 
 
 CHAP. YIII.— Count Julian.— His Fortunes in Africa.— He 
 
 hears of the Dishonour of his Child. — His conduct thereupon 886 
 
 CHAP. IX.— Secret Visit of Count Julian to the Arab camp.— 
 
 -, First expedition of Taric el Tuerto . . . .391 
 
 CHAP. X. — Letter of Muza to the Caliph. — Second expedition of 
 Taric el Tuerto . . . . .898 
 
 CHAP. XI. — Measures of Don Roderick on hearing of the InT»> 
 
 don.— Expedition of Ataulpho. — Vision of Taric . 895 
 
 CHAP. XII.— BatUe of Calpe.— Fate of Ataulpho . . 400 
 
 CHAP. XIIL— Terror of the country.- Roderick rouses himself 
 
 to arms . . . . 404 
 
 CHAP. XIV. — March of the Qothic army.— Encampment on the 
 banks of the Ouadidete. — Mysterious predictions of a palmer. 
 
 —Conduct of Pelistes thereupon .... 407 
 
 CHAP. XV.— Skirmishing of the armies.— Pelistes and his son. 
 
 ;. — Pelistes and the bishop . . . . . 410 
 
 CHAP. XVI.— Traitorous message of Count Julian . 418 
 
 CHAP. XVII.— Last day of the battle . . . . 41i 
 
 CHAP. XVIII.— The field of battle afker the defeat— The late of r 
 
 Roderick 419 
 
 i ' 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 nXTTBTBATIOira TO THE TOBBOOIira LIOKin}. 
 
 The Tomb of Roderick . . . . . 
 
 The Cave of Hercules . . . . . 
 
 PAOI 
 
 . 422 
 . 428 
 
 Legsnd of the Sdbjuoatiok or Spain. 
 
 CHAP. I. — ConBtemation of Spain.— Conduct of the Conqnerons. 
 
 — Missives between Taric and Muza .... 427 
 
 CHAP. II.— Capture of Granada. — Subjugation of the Alpuzarra 
 
 Mountains ....... 430 
 
 CHAP. III. — Expedition of Magued against Cordova. — Defence 
 
 of the Patriot Pelistes .... . • . 48& 
 
 CHAP. IT.— Defence of the Convent of St George by Pelistes . 487 
 
 CHAP. v. — Meeting between the Patriot Pelistes and the Traitor 
 
 Julian ....... 440 
 
 CHAP. YI.—How Taric el Tuerto captured the Citj of Toledo 
 through the Aid of the Jews, and how he found the famous 
 Talismanio Table of Solomon .... 44& 
 
 CHAP. VIL- Mnza ben Nozier.— His Entrance into Spain, and 
 
 Capture of Caimona ...... 44S 
 
 CHAP. YIIL- Muza marches against the City of SevUIe . 440 
 
 CHAP. IX.— Muza besieges the City of Merida . k 400 
 
 CHAP. X.— Expedition of AbdaUusis against Seville and the 
 
 "LandofTadmir" 46ft 
 
 CHAP. XI. — Muza arrives at Toledo. — Interview between him 
 
 and Taric . . . . .461 
 
 CHAP. XII. — Muza prosecutes the Scheme of Conquest. — Siege 
 
 of Saragossa. — Complete Subjugation of Spain . 468 
 
 CHAP. XIII. — Feud between the Arab Generals. — They are sum- 
 moned to appear before the Caliph at Damascus. — Beception 
 of Taric ....... 466 
 
 CHAP. XIV. — Muza arrives at Damascus. — His Interview with 
 
 the Caliph. — The Table of Solomon. — A rigorona Sentence . 470 
 
 CHAP. XV.— Conduct of AbdaUais as Emir of Spain . . 472 
 
 OHAP. XYI.^Loves of Abdalasii and Ezilona . . .475 
 
 OHAP. XYIL— Fate of Abdalasii and EzUoiul— DMih of Ifna 478 
 
 LnnrD or CovTMT JcuAN AMD m Faiolt . .481 
 
 Koto to the preceding Legend . . . .491 
 
.<im»tm 
 
 mxtrn 
 
 THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK* 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Sfaik, or Iberia, as it was called in ancient days, has been 
 a country harrassed from the earliest times by the invader. 
 The Celts, the Greek», the Phcenicians, the Carthaginians, by 
 turns, or simultaneously, infringed its territories, drove the 
 native Iberians from their rightful homes, and established, 
 colonies and founded cities in the land. It subsequently fell 
 into the all-grasping power of Rome, remaining for some time 
 a subjugated province; and when that gigantic empire 
 crumbled into pieces, the Suevi, the Alani, and the Vandals, 
 those barbarians of the north, overran and ravaged this 
 devoted country, and portioned out the soil among them. 
 
 Their sway was not of long duration. In the fifth century 
 the Goths, who were then the allies of Rome, undertook the 
 reconquest of Iberia, and succeeded, after a desperate struggle 
 of three years' duration. They drove before them the bar- 
 barous hordes, their predecessors ; intermarried and incorpo- 
 rated themselves with the original inhabitants, and founded a 
 powerful and splendid empire, comprising the Iberian penin- 
 sula, the ancient Narbonnaise, afterwards called Gallia Gotica, 
 or Gothic Gaul, and a part of the African coast called 
 Tingitania. A new nation was, in a mannrr. ;;)roduced by 
 this mixture of the Goths and Iberians, bn -ung from a 
 union of warrior races, reared and nurtured amiost the din of 
 anns, the Gothic Spaniards, if they may so be termed, were & 
 warlike, unquiet, yet high-minded and heroic people. Their 
 simple and abstemious habits, their contempt for toil and 
 suffering, and their love of daring enterprise, fitted them for 
 a soldier's life. So addicted were they to war, that wheat 
 they had no external foes to contend with, they fought with 
 one another ; and when engaged in battle, says an old chro- 
 
 * Many of the &ctfl in this legend are taken from an old chronick^ 
 written in quaint and antiquated Spanish, and profeaaing to be a tranip 
 lation from the Arabian chronicle of the Moor Raais, by Mohammed, a 
 Moslem writer, and Oil Parez, a Spanidi priest. It is supposed to be s 
 pieee of literary mosaic work, made up firom both Spanish and Arabian 
 chronieles : yet from this woi^ most of the Spanish historiaaa kafw 
 drawn their particulars relative to the fortunes of Don Soderiek. 
 
362 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAi:^. 
 
 nider, the very thunders and lightnings of heaven could not 
 separate them.* 
 
 For two centuries and a half the Gothic power remained 
 unshaken, and the sceptre was wielded by twenty-five succes* 
 sive kings. The crown was elective, in a council of palatines, 
 composed of the bishops and nobles ; who, while they swore 
 allegiance to the newly-made sovereign, bound him by a 
 reciprocal oath to be faithful to his trust. Their choice was 
 made from among the people, subject only to one condition—- 
 that the king should be of pure Gothic blood. But though 
 the crown was elective in principle, it gradually became 
 hereditary from usage, and the power of the sovereign grew 
 to be almost absolute. The king was commander-in-chief of 
 the armies ; the whole patronage of the kingdom was in his 
 hands; he summoned and dissolved the national councils; he 
 made and revoked laws according to his pleasure ; and, havii^ 
 ecclesiastical supremacy, he exercised a sway even over the 
 consciences of his subjects. 
 
 The Goths, at the time of their inroad, were stout adherents 
 to the Arian doctrines, but after a time they embraced the 
 Catholic faith, which was maintained by the native Spaniards 
 feee from many of the gross superstitions of the church at 
 Rome ; and this unity of faith contributed more than anything 
 else to blend and harmonise the two races into one. The 
 bishops and other clergy were exemplary in their lives, and 
 aided to promote the influence of the laws and maintain the 
 authority of the state. The fruits of regular and secure 
 government were manifest in the advancement of agriculture, 
 commerce, and the peaceful arts, and in the increase of 
 wealth, luxury, and refinement; but there w&s a gradual 
 decline of the simple, hardy, and warlike habits that had 
 distinguished the nation in its semi-barbarous days. 
 
 Such was the state of Spain when, in the year of Redemption 
 701 , Witiza was elected to the Gothic throne. The beginning of 
 his reign gave promise of happy days to Spain. He redressed 
 grievances, moderated the tnbutes of his subjects, and con- 
 ducted himself with mingled mildness and energy in the admi- 
 nistration of the laws. In a little while, however, he threw off the 
 mask, and showed himself in his true nature, cruel and luxurious. 
 
 Two of his relatives, sous of a preceding king, awakened his 
 
 * Florian de Ocampo, lib. iii. cap. 12. Justin Abrev. Trog. Pomp. lib. 
 zlhr. Bleds. Cronios, lib. ii. cap. 3. 
 
LSOEND OF DON BODSBICK. 
 
 868 
 
 jealousy for the security of his throne. Oneof them, named Farila, 
 Duke of Cantabria, he put to death, and would have inflicted the 
 same fate upon his sou, Pelayo, but that the youth was beyond : 
 his reach, being preserved by Providence for the future salvation 
 of Spain. The other object of his suspicion was Theodofredo, 
 who lived retired from court. The violence of Witiza reached 
 him even in his retirement. His eyes were put out, and he 
 was immured within a castle at Cordova. Roderick, the 
 youthful son of Theodofredo, escaped to Italy, where he 
 received protection from the Romans. 
 
 Witiza, now considering himself secure upon the throne, 
 gave the reins to his licentious passions, and soon, by his tyranny 
 and sensuality, acquired the appellation of Witiza the Wicked. 
 Despising the old Gothic continence, and yielding to the 
 example of the sect of Mahomet, which suited his lascivious 
 temperament, he indulged in a plurality of wives and concu- 
 bines, encouraging his subjects to do the same. Nay, he 
 even sought to gain the sanction of the church to his excesses; 
 promulgating a law by which the clergy were released from 
 their vows of celibacy, and permitted to marry and to enter- 
 tain paramours. 
 
 The sovereign pontiff Constantino threatened to depose and 
 excommunicate him imless he abrogated this licentious law ; 
 but Witiza set him at defiance, threatening, like his Gothic 
 predecessor, Alaric, to assiiil the eternal city with his troops,, 
 and make spoil of her accumulated treasiu-es.* ** We will 
 adorn our damsels," said he, " with the jewels of Rome, and 
 replenish our coffers from the mint of St. Peter." 
 
 Some of the clergy opposed themselves to the innovating 
 i^irit of the monarch, and endeavoured, from the pulpits, to 
 rally the people to the pure doctrines of their faith ; but they 
 were deposed from their sacred office, and banished as 
 seditious mischief-makers. The church of Toledo continued 
 refractory ; the archbishop Sindaredo, it is true, was disposed 
 to accommodate himself to the corruptions of the times, but 
 the prebendaries battled intrepidly against the new laws of 
 the monarch, and stood manfully in defence of their vows of 
 chastity. ** Since the church of Toledo will not yield itself to 
 our wiU," said Witiza, " it shall have two husbands." So 
 saying, he appointed his own brother Oppas, at that time 
 Archbishop of Seville, to take a seat with Sindaredo in the 
 
 * Chron. de Loitprando, 709. Abarca Anales de Angon (el Hahc 
 metisBo, foL 6). 
 
 ;r:,':> 
 
364 
 
 THE COITQUEST OF BTAIK. 
 
 episcopal chair of Toledo, and made him Primate of Spain. 
 He was a priest after his own heart, and seconded hun in all 
 his profligate abuses. 
 
 It was in Tain the denunciations of the church were fulmi- 
 nated from the chair of St. Peter; Witiza threw off all 
 all^riance to the Roman pontiff, threatening with pain d 
 deaui those who should obey the papal mandates. *'We will 
 suffer no foreign ecclesiastic with triple crown," said he, " to 
 domineer over our dominions." 
 
 The Jews had been banished from the country during the 
 preceding reign, but Witiza permitted them to return, and 
 even bestowed upon their synagogues privileges of which he 
 had despoiled the churches. The children of Israel, ever 
 since the time when they borrowed the jewels of gold and 
 the jewels of silver from their neighbours on preparing for 
 their memorable flight out of Egypt, have been curious dealers 
 in gold, and silver, and precious stones ; on this occasion, there- 
 fore, they were enabled, it is said, to repay the monarch for his 
 protection by bags of money and caskets of sparkling gems, 
 the rich product of their oriental commerce. 
 
 The kingdom at this time enjoyed external peace, but there, 
 were symptoms of internal discontent. "Witiza took the 
 alarm ; he remembered the ancient turbulence of the nation, 
 and its proneness to internal feuds. Issuing secret orders, 
 therefore, in all directions, he dismantled most of the cities, 
 and demolished the castles and fortresses that might serve 
 as rallying points for the factious. He disarmed the people 
 also, and converted the weapcms of war into the implements 
 of peace. It seemed, in fact, as if the millenium were 
 dawning upon the land ; for the sword was beaten into a 
 ploughshare, and the spear into a pruning hook. 
 
 While thus the ancient martial Are of the nation was extin- 
 guished, its morals likewise were corrupted, llie altars were 
 abandoned, the churches closed, wide disorder and sensuality 
 prevailed throughout the land ; so that, according to the old 
 ohroniclers. within the compass of a few short years, *' Witiat 
 tiie Wicked taught all Spew to sin." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Woe to the ruler who founds his hope of sway on the. 
 weakness or cormption of the people ! The very measures 
 taken by Witiza to perpetuate his power ensured his dovn- 
 
LEGXKD or DON BOOBBICK. 
 
 366 
 
 faO. While the whole nation under his licentious rule, was 
 sinking into vice and effeminacy, and the arm of war was 
 unstrung, the youthful RodericK, son of Theodofrcdo, was 
 training up for action in the stem but wholesome school of 
 adversity. He instructed himself in the use of arms ; be- 
 came adroit and vigorous by varied exercises; learned to 
 despise all danger ; and inured himself to hunger and 
 watchfulness, and the rigour of the seasons. 
 
 His merits and misfortunes procured him many Ariends 
 among the Romans ; and when, being arrived at a fitting age, 
 he undertook to revenge the wrongs of his father and his 
 kindred, a host of brave and hardy soldiers flocked to his 
 standard. With these he made his sudden appearance in 
 Spain. The friends of his house, and the disaffected of all 
 classes, hastened to join him ; and he advanced rapidly, and 
 without opposition, through an unarmed and enervated land. 
 
 Witiza saw too late the evil he had brought upon him- 
 self. He made a hasty levy, and took the field with a 
 scantily equipped and undisciplined host, but was easily 
 routed and made prisoner, and the whole kingdom submitted 
 to Don Roderick. 
 
 The ancient city of Toledo, the royal residence of the 
 Ck>thic kings, was the scene of high festivity and solemn 
 ceremonial on the coronation of the victor. Whether he 
 was elected to the throne according to the Gothic usage, 
 or seized it by the right of conquest, is a matter of dispute 
 among historians ; but all agree that the nation subnutted 
 cheerfully to his sway, and looked forward to prosperity and 
 happiness under their newly elevated monarch. His appear- 
 ance and character seemed to justify the anticipation. He 
 was in the splendour of youth, and of a majestic presence. 
 His soul was bold and daring, and elevated by lofty desires. 
 He had a sagacity that penetrated the thoughts of men, and 
 a magnificent spirit that won all hearts. Such is the picture 
 which ancient writers give of Don Roderick, when, with all 
 the stem and simple virtues unimpaired which he had dc- 
 quired in adversity and exile, and flushed with the triumph 
 of a pious revenge, he ascended the Gothic throne. 
 
 Prosperity, however, is the real touchstone of the human 
 heart. No sooner did Roderick find himself in possession of 
 the crown, than the love of power, and the jealousy of rule, 
 were awakened in his breast. His first measure was against 
 
 ;i 
 
 iHli 
 
 H^ 
 
 
 n 
 
 !tHT 
 
 !; 
 
 m 
 
366 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIIT. 
 
 Witiza, who was brought in chains into his presence. Rode- 
 rick beheld the captive monarch with an unpitying eye, re- 
 membering only his wrongs and cruelties to his &ther. " Let 
 the evils he has inflicted on others be visited upon his own 
 head," said he : " as he did unto Theodofredo, even so be it 
 done unto him." So the eyes of Witiza were put out, and 
 he was thrown into the same dungeon at Cordova in which 
 Theodofredo had languished. There he passed the brief 
 remnant of his days, in perpetual darkness, a prey to wretch- 
 edness and remorse. 
 
 Roderick now cast an uneasy and suspicious eye upon 
 Evan and Siseburto, the two sons of Witiza. Fearful lest 
 they shoidd foment some secret rebellion, he banished them 
 the kingdom. They took refuge in the Spanish dominions 
 in Africa, where they were received and harboured by Requila, 
 governor of Tangier, out of gratitude for favours which he 
 had received from their late father. There they remained, to 
 brood over their fallen fortunes, and to aid in working out 
 the future woes of Spain. 
 
 Their uncle Oppas, bishop of Seville, who had been made 
 co-partner, bv Witiza, in the arch-episcopal chair at Toledo, 
 would have likewise fallen under tlie suspicion of the king ; 
 but he was a man of consummate art and vast exterior 
 sanctity, and won upon the good graces of the monarch. He 
 was suffered, therefore, to retain his sacred office at Seville ; 
 but the see of Toledo was given in charge to the venerable 
 Urbino ; and the law of Witiza was revoked, that dispensed 
 the clei-g}' from their vows of celibacy. 
 
 The jealousy of Roderick for the security of his crown was 
 soon again arousrd, and his measures were prompt and severe. 
 Having been informed that the governors of certain castles 
 nnd fortresses in Castile and Andalusia had conspired against 
 him, he caused them to be put to death, and their strong-holds 
 to be demolished. He now went on to imitate the pernicious 
 policy of his predecessor ; throwing down walls and towers, 
 disarming the people, and thus incapacitating them from re- 
 bellion. A few cities were permitted to retain their fortifi- 
 cations, but these were intrusted to alcaydes, in whom he 
 had especial confidence : the greater part of the kingdom 
 was left defenceless. The nomes, who had been roused to 
 temporary manhood during the recent stir of war, sunk back 
 into the inglorious state of inaction which had disgraced 
 
LEOEKD OF DON BODEBICK. 
 
 367 
 
 them during the reign of Witiza, passing their time in feast- 
 ing, and dancing to the sound of loose and wanton min- 
 strelsy.* It was scarcely possible to recognise, in these idle 
 wassailers and soft voluptuaries, the descendants of the stem 
 and frugal warriors of the frozen north; who had braved 
 flood and mountain, and heat and cold, and had battled their 
 way to empire across half a world in arms. 
 
 They surrounded their youthful monarch, it is true, with a 
 blaze of military pomp. Nothing could surpass the splendour 
 of their arms, which were embossed and enamelled, and en- 
 riched with gold and jewels and curious devices; nothing 
 could be more gallant and glorious than their array — ^it was 
 aU plxmie and banner and silken pageantr}', the gorgeous 
 trappings for tilt and tourney and courtly revel ; but the iron 
 soiu of war was wanting. 
 
 How rare it is to learn wisdom from the misfortunes of 
 others! With the fate of Witiza full before his eyes, Don 
 Boderick indulged in the same pernicious errors, and was 
 doomed, in like manner to prepare the way for his own 
 perdition. 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 As yet the heart of Roderick, occupied by the struggles of 
 his early life, by warlike enterprises, and by the inquietudes 
 of newly-gotten power, had been insensible to the charms of 
 women; but in the present voluptuous calm the amorous 
 
 Sropensities of his nature assumed their sway. There are 
 ivers accounts of the youthful beauty who first found favour 
 in his eyes, and was elevated by him to the throne. We 
 follow, in our legend, the details of an Arabian chronicler.f 
 authenticated by a Spanish poet.t Let those who dispute 
 our facts produce better authority for their contradiction. 
 
 Among the few fortified places that had not been dismantled 
 by Don Koderick was the ancient city of Denia, sitiuited on 
 the Mediterranean coast, and defended on a rock-built castle 
 that overlooked the sea. 
 
 The alcaydc of the castle, with many of the people of 
 Denia, was one day on his knees in the chapel, imploring the 
 
 * Mtrisna. Hist. E«p. lib. vl. c. 21. 
 
 f Perdida dc Espsfla poor Abulcscim Tarif Abentarique, lib. i. 
 
 i LopodeVegs. 
 
 Ill 
 
 fi 
 
368 
 
 THS CONQUEST OF 8FA1K. 
 
 Virgin to allay a tempest which was strewing the coast with 
 wrecks, when a sentinel brought word that a Moorish cruizer 
 was standing for the land, llie alcayde gave orders to ring 
 the alarm bells, light signal fires on the hill tops, and rouse 
 the country; for the coast was subject to cruel maraudings 
 from the Barbary cruizers. 
 
 In a little while the horsemen of the neighbourhood were 
 seen pricking along the beach, armed with such weapons as 
 they could iind; and the alcayde and his scanty garrison 
 descended from the hill. In the meantime the Moorish bark 
 came rolling and pitching towards the land. As it drew 
 near, the rich carving and gilding with which it was deco- 
 rated, its silken bandaroles, and banks of crimson oars, 
 showed it to be no warlike vessel, but a sumptuous galleot, 
 destined for state and ceremony. It bore the marks of the 
 tempest: the masts were broken, the oars shattered, and 
 fragments of snowy sails and silken awnings were fluttering in 
 the blast. 
 
 As the galleot grounded upon the sand, the impatient 
 rabble rushed into the surf to capture and make spoil; but 
 were awed into admiration and respect by the appearance of 
 the ilhistrious company on board. There were Moors of both 
 sexes simiptuously arrayed, and adorned with precious jewels, 
 bearing the demeanour of persons of lofty rank. Among 
 them shone conspicuous a youthful beauty, magnificently 
 attired to whom all seemed to pay reverence. 
 
 Several of the Moors sun-ounded her with drawn swords, 
 threatening death to any that approached; others, sprang 
 from the bark, and throwing themselves on their knees before 
 the alcayde, implored him, by his honour and courtesy as a 
 knight, to protect a royal virgin from injury and insult. 
 
 *' You behold before you," said they, " the only daughter of 
 the King of Algiers, the betrothed bride of the son of the 
 King of Tunis. We were conducting her to the court of her 
 expecting bridegroom, when a tempest drove us from our 
 course, and compelled us to take refuge on your coast. Be 
 not more cruel than the tempest, but deal nobly with that 
 which even sea and storm have spared." 
 
 llie alcayde listened to their prayers. He conducted the 
 
 ErinccKS and her train to the castle, where every honour due to 
 er rank was paid her. Some of her ancient attendants inter- 
 ceded for her iibeniti(m, promising countleM sums to be paid 
 
 by he 
 
 ear to 
 
 he; " 
 
 After 
 
 and ri 
 
 caused 
 
 state t 
 
 The 
 
 aoverei 
 
 men, t 
 
 mere g 
 
 damsel 
 
 all attj 
 
 grace ] 
 
 arrayed 
 
 orient; 
 
 rated w 
 
 the silk 
 
 were c 
 
 brilliant 
 
 poured 
 
 the city 
 
 Algiers. 
 
 of his c 
 
 tuous li 
 
 and, at 
 
 lapturec 
 
 SOCTOW { 
 
 words, a 
 he, " thj 
 thyself J 
 anything 
 Here 
 dants w 
 but the 
 more anc 
 bjr tends 
 »o prin 
 treatmen 
 ■way ove 
 •he rang( 
 
UOBKD OF DOV BODEBICK. 
 
 3«9 
 
 with 
 ruizer 
 » ring 
 rouse 
 idings 
 
 I were 
 ons as 
 irrison 
 hbark 
 ; drew 
 i deco- 
 i oars, 
 galleot, 
 of the 
 d, and 
 ;ring in 
 
 ipatient 
 
 jil; but 
 
 ranee of 
 
 of both 
 
 jewels, 
 
 Among 
 
 oently 
 
 swords, 
 
 sprang 
 
 fs before 
 
 esy as a 
 
 |t. 
 
 Lghter of 
 of the 
 of her 
 ^om our 
 i8t. Be 
 ;ith that 
 
 Lcted the 
 ir due to 
 ktft inter- 
 be paid 
 
 by her father for her ransom ; but the alcayde turned a deaf 
 ear to all their golden offers. " She is a royal captive," said 
 he; "it belongs to my sovereign alone to dispose of her." 
 After she had reposed, therefore, for some days at the custle, 
 and recovered from the fatigue and terror of the sciis, he 
 caused her to be conducted, with all her train, in mugnificent 
 state to the court of Don Roderick. 
 
 The beautiful Elyata* entered Toledo more like a triumphant 
 sovereign than a captive. A chosen band of Christian horse- 
 men, splendidly armed, appeared to wait upon her as a 
 mere guard of honour. She was surrounded by the Moorish 
 damsels of her train, and followed by her own Moslem guards, 
 all attired with the magnificence that had been intended to 
 grace her arrival at the court of Tunis. The princess was 
 arrayed in bridal robes, woven in the most coHtly looms of the 
 orient; her diadem sparkled with diamonds, and was deco- 
 rated with the rarest plumes of the bird of paradise ; and even 
 the silken trappings of her palfrey, which swept the ground, 
 were covered with pearls and precious stones. As this 
 brilliant cavalcade crossed the bridge of the Tagus, all Toledo 
 poured forth to behold it; and nothing was heard throughout 
 the city but praises of the wonderful beauty of the princess of 
 Algiers. King Roderick came forth, attended by the chivalry 
 of his court, to receive the royal captive. His recent volup< 
 tttoiis life had disposed him for tender and amorous afL'ctions, 
 and, at the first sight of the beautiful Elyata, he was en- 
 raptured with her charms. Seeing her face clouded with 
 sorrow and anxiety, he soothed her with gentle and courteous 
 words, and, conducting her to a royal palace, " Behold, ' said 
 he, '* thy habitation, where no one tshall molest thee ; consider 
 thyself at home in the mansion of thy father, and dispose of 
 anything according to thy will." 
 
 Here the princess passed her time, with the female atten- 
 dants who had accompanied her from Algiers; and no one 
 but the king was jMjrmittod to visit her, who daily became 
 more and more enamoured of his lovely captive, and sought, 
 by tender assiduity, to gain her affections. The distress of 
 the princess at her captivity was soothed by this gentle 
 treatment. She was of an age when sorrow cannot long hold 
 sway over the heart. Accompanied by her youthful attendants, 
 she ranged the spncioits apartments of the palace, and sported 
 * By some she is called Zars. 
 
j im M m f I T ommmm 
 
 oMmeimmmummmmmmmm 
 
 870 
 
 THE COKQUEST OF SFAIK. 
 
 among the groves and alleys of its garden. Every day the 
 remembrance of the paternal home grew less and less pamftil, 
 and the king became more and more amiable in her eyes; 
 and when, at length, he offered to share his heart and throne 
 with her, she listened with downcast looks and kindling 
 blushes, but with an air of resignation. 
 
 One obstacle remained to the complete fruition of the 
 monarch's wishes, and this was the religion of the princess. 
 Roderick forthwith employed the Archbishop of Toledo to 
 instruct the beautiful Elyata in the mysteries of the Christian 
 &ith. The female intellect is quick in perceiving the merits 
 of new doctrines : the archbishop, therefore, soon succeeded 
 in converting, not merely the princess, but most of her 
 attendants ; and a day was appointed for their public baptism. 
 The ceremony was performed with great pomp and solemnity, 
 in the presence of all the nobility and chivalry of the court. 
 The princess and her damsels, clad in white, walked on foot 
 to the cathedral, while numerous beautiful children, arrayed 
 as angels, strewed the path with flowers; and the archbishop, 
 meeting them at the portal, received them, as it were, into 
 the bosom of the church. The princess abandoned her Moorish 
 appellation of Elyata and was baptised by the name of 
 Exilona, by which she was thenceforth called, and has gene- 
 rally been known in history. 
 
 The nuptials of Roderick and the beautiful convert took 
 place shortly afterwards, and were celebrated with great 
 magnificence. There were jousts, and tourneys, and banquets, 
 and other rejoicings, which lasted twenty days, and were 
 attended by the principal nobles from all parts of Spain. 
 After these were over, such of the attendants of the princess 
 as refused to embrace Christianity, and desired to return to 
 Africa, were dismissed with munificent presents; and aa 
 embassy was sent to the king of Algiers, to infbrm him of the 
 nuptials of his daughter, and to proffer him the friendship of 
 King Roderick*. 
 
 * " Como esta Infanta era mny hermoBa, y el Rey [Don Bodrigo] 
 diipuesta j gentil hombre, entro por medio el amor y adicion, y junto 
 con el regalo con que la avia mandado bo«pedar y servir tal causa que 
 el rey persuadio esta Infanta, que si so tomava a lu ley de Chriitiano 
 la tomaria por muger, y que la haria sefiora de sua Reynoi. Con esta 
 penuasion ella toe contenta, y aviendose vuelto Christiana, se easo con 
 ella, y se celebraron sus bodaa con muchaa flestai y regoi^oi, como era 
 nMion."—Abulca$im, Conq'H de Etpan, c^> 8. 
 
 P< 
 and I 
 splen 
 repai 
 comn 
 than 
 nexio: 
 Am 
 destini 
 countr 
 &milie 
 niarriaj 
 Counte 
 this CO 
 %hest 
 O' roya 
 about tl 
 intrust© 
 sessions I 
 time we 
 of Mahc 
 to the 
 Wished „ 
 and one I 
 Here he 
 Moslem! 
 Bon j| 
 and a 
 
 grandeu 
 and tbej 
 threatene 
 fore, to^ 
 to assure] 
 Roderi^ 
 Juh'an; 
 
 * Condei 
 •nd breads 
 Gothic kin 
 fectus. Hd 
 «'« Ojfic. -^ 
 
mm 
 
 tm 
 
 y the 
 mfol, 
 eyes; 
 tvrone 
 idling 
 
 ){ the 
 
 incess. 
 
 edo to 
 
 fiBtian 
 
 merits 
 
 iceeded 
 
 of her 
 
 aptism. 
 
 enmity, 
 
 } court. 
 
 on foot 
 
 arrayed 
 
 bbishop, 
 
 ere, into 
 
 MooriBb 
 
 Qiune of 
 
 laBgene- 
 
 ^ert took 
 th great 
 )anquets« 
 ind were 
 )f Spain. 
 . prinoesa 
 return to 
 ; and an 
 lim of the 
 >nddiip of 
 
 LEGEND OF DON SODERICK. 
 
 CHAPTER rv. 
 
 371 
 
 Fob a time Don Roderick lived happily with his young 
 and beautiful queen, and Toledo was the seat of festivity and 
 splendour. The principal nobles throughout the kingdom 
 repaired to his court to pay him homage, and to receive his 
 conunands; and none were more devoted in thei^ reverence 
 than those who were obnoxious to suspicion, from their con- 
 nexion with the late king. 
 
 Among the foremost of these was Count Julian, a man 
 destined to be infamously renowned in the dark story of his 
 country's woes. He was of one of the proudest Gothic 
 fiimilies, lord of Consuegra and Algeziras, and connected by 
 marriage with Witiza and the Bishop Oppas ; his wife, the 
 Countess Frandina, being their sister. In consequence of 
 this connexion, and of his own merits, he had enjoyed the 
 highest dignities and commands, being one of the Espatorios, 
 or royal sword-bearers: an office of the greatest confidence 
 about the person of the sovereign.* He had, moreover, been 
 intrusted with the military government of the Spanish pos- 
 sessions on the African coast of the strait, which at that 
 time were threatened by the Arabs of the East, the followers 
 of Mahomet, who were advancing thcu* victorious standard 
 to the extremity of Western Africa. Count Julian esta- 
 blished his seat of government at Ceuta, the frontier bulwark, 
 and one of the far-famed gates of the Mediterranean Sea. 
 Here he boldly faced, and held in check, the torrent of 
 Moslem invasion. 
 
 Don Julian was a man of an active, but irregular genius, 
 and a grasping ambition; he had a love for power and 
 grandeur, in which he was joined by his haughty countess ; 
 and they could ill brook the downfall of their house as 
 threatened by the fi&te of Witiza. They had hastened, there- 
 fore, to pay their court to the newly elevated monarch, and 
 to assure him of their fidelity to his interests. 
 
 Roderick was readily persuaded of the sincerity of Count 
 Julian ; he was aware of his merits as a soldier and a governor, 
 
 * Condes Eapatorios; so called firom the dnwn swords of unpio sin 
 snd breadth, with which they kept gusid in the sntechsmbcm of the 
 Gothic kings. Comes Spstharionim, custodum corporis Kegis Pro. 
 fectuB. Hone et PropospsUuurium appeUatum existimo.— iP<Ur. PatU, 
 dt Ojjjic. Octh. 
 
 So 
 
 I 
 
872 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 h 
 
 and continued !iim in his important command; honouring 
 him with many other marks of implicit confidence. Count 
 Julian sought to confirm this confidence by every proof of 
 devotion. It was a custom among the Goths to rear many of 
 the children of the most illustrious &milies of the royal 
 household. They served as pages to the king, and handmaids 
 and ladies of honour to the queen, and were instructed in all 
 manner of accomplishments befitting their gentle blood. 
 When about to depart for Ceuta, to resume his command, 
 Don Julian brought his daughter Florinda to present her to 
 the sovereigns. She was a beautiful virgin, that had not as 
 yet attained to womanhood. " I confide her to your pro- 
 tection," said he to the king, " to be unto her as a father; 
 and to have her trained in the paths of virtue. I can leave 
 with you no dearer pledge of my loyalty." 
 
 King Roderick received the timid and blushing maiden 
 into hu paternal care; promising to watch over her happiness 
 with a parent's eye, and that she should be enrolled amonug 
 the most cherished attendants of the queen. With this 
 assurance of the welfare of his child. Count Julian departed, 
 well pleased, for his government at Ceuta. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The beautiful daughter of Count Julian was received with 
 great fovour by the queen Exilona, and admitted among the 
 noble damsels that attended upon hei person. Here she 
 lived in honour and apparent security, and surrounded by 
 innocent delights. To gratify his queen, Don Roderick had 
 built for her rural recreation a pdace without the walls of 
 Toledo, on the banks of the Tagus. It stood in the midst of 
 a garden, adorned after the luxurious style of the East. The 
 air was perfumed by fragrant shrubs and flowers ; the groves 
 resounded with the song of the nightingale; while the gush 
 of fountains and waterfalls, and the distant murmur of the 
 Tagus, made it a delightful retreat during the sultry days 
 of summer. The chiurm of perfect privacy also reigned 
 throughout the place; for the garden walls were high, and 
 Aumerous guards kept watch without to protect it from all 
 intrusimi. 
 
 In this delicious abode, more befitting an oriental volup- 
 tuary than a Gothic king, Don Roderick was accustomed to 
 
 Spain, 
 
nnng 
 ;3ount 
 )of of 
 iny of 
 royal 
 maids 
 in all 
 blood, 
 imand, 
 her to 
 not a« 
 ir pro- 
 fatber; 
 n leave 
 
 maiden 
 ippinesB 
 iamon^ 
 itb tbiB 
 eparted, 
 
 ved witb 
 nong the 
 lere sbc 
 inded by 
 rick had 
 
 walls of 
 
 midst of 
 «t. The 
 le groves 
 
 the gush 
 ur of the 
 Itry days 
 reigned 
 
 igb, and 
 from all 
 
 ^tal volup- 
 [gtomed to 
 
 LSOKKD OF DON BODEBICK. 973 
 
 while away much of that time which should have been 
 devoted to the toilsome cares of government. ITie very 
 security and peace which he had produced thitiughout his 
 dominions, by his precautions to abolish the means and habi- 
 tudes of war, had effected a disastrous change in his character. 
 The hardy and heroic qualities which had conducted him to 
 the throne, were softened in the lap of indulgence. Sur- 
 rounded by the pleasures of an idle tind effeminate court, and 
 beguiled by the example of his degenerate nobles, he gave 
 way to a fatal sensuality that had lain dormant in his nature 
 during the virtuous days of his adversity. The mere love of 
 female beauty had first enamoured him of Exilona; and the 
 same passion, fostered by voluptuous idleness, now betrayed 
 him into the commission of an act fatal to himself and Spain. 
 The following is the story of his error, as gathered from an 
 old chronicle and legend. 
 
 In a remote part of the palace was an apartment devoted 
 to the queen. It was like an eastern harem, shut up from the 
 foot of man, and where the king himself but rarely entered. 
 It had its own courts, and gardens, and fountains, where the 
 queen was wont to recreate herself with her damsels, as she 
 had been accustomed to do in the jealous privacy of her 
 fether's palace. 
 
 One sultry day, the king, instead of taking his siesta, or 
 mid-day slumber, repaired to this apartment to seek the 
 society of the queen. In passing through a small oratory, he 
 was drawn by the sound of female voices to a casement over- 
 hung with myrtles and jasmines. It looked into an interior 
 garden or court, set out with orange trees, in the midst of 
 which was a marble fountain, surrounded by a grassy bank, 
 enamelled with flowers. 
 
 It was the high noontide of a summer day, when, in sultry 
 Spain, the landscape trembles to the eye, and all nature seeks 
 repose, except the grasshopper, that pipes his lulling note to 
 tl^ herdsman as he sleeps beneath the shade. 
 
 Around the fountain were several of the damsels of the 
 queen, who, confident of the sacred privacy of the place, 
 were yielding in that cool retreat to the indulgence prompted 
 by the season and the hour. Some lay asleep on the flowery 
 bank ; others sat on the margin of the fountain, talking and 
 laughing, as they bathed their feet in its limpid waters, and 
 
 2c 2 
 
 ii:i 
 
 I 
 
 !'i 1 
 
"Twiw^nw 
 
 I II ■ II I >T 1 . 1 a m ' . ' 
 
 874 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 King Roderick beheld delicate limbs sbining through the 
 wave, that might rival the marble in whiteness. 
 
 Among the damsels was one who had come from the Bar- 
 bary coast with the queen. Her complexion had the dark 
 tinge of Mauritania, but it was clear and transparent, and the 
 deep rich rose blushed through the lovely brown. Her eyes 
 were black and full of fire, and flashed from under long silken 
 eyelashes. 
 
 A sportive contest arose among the maidens, as to the com- 
 parative beauty of the Spanish and Moorish forms ; but the 
 Maiuitanian damsel revealed limbs of voluptuous symmetry 
 that seemed to defy all rivalry. 
 
 The Spanish beauties were on the point of giving up the con- 
 test, when they bethought themselves of the young Florinda, 
 the daughter of Count Julian, who lay on the grassy bank, 
 abandoned to a summer slxunber. The soft glow of youth 
 and health mantled on her cheek; her fringed eyelashes 
 scarcely covered their sleeping orbs ; her moist and ruby lip» 
 were lightly parted, just revealing a gleam of her ivory teeth ; 
 while her innocent bosom rose and fell beneath her boddice, 
 like the gentle swelling and sinking of a tranquil sea. There 
 was a breathing tenderness and beauty in the sleeping virgin, 
 that seemed to send forth sweetness uke the flowers around 
 her. 
 
 " Behold," cried her companions, exultingly, " the champion 
 of Spanish beauty !" 
 
 In their playful eagerness they half disrobed the innocent 
 Florinda before she was aware. She awoke in time, however, 
 to escape from their busy hands ; but enough of her charms 
 had been revealed to convince the monarch that they were 
 not to be rivalled by the rarest beauties of Mauritania. 
 
 From this day the heart of Roderick was inflamed with a 
 fatal passion. He gazed on the beautiful Florinda with fervid 
 desire, and sought to read in her looks whether there was 
 levity or wantonness in her bosom; but the eye of the 
 damsel ever simk beneath his gaze, and remained bent on the 
 earth in vii^n modesty. 
 
 It was in \ain he cdUed to mind the sacred trust reposed 
 in him by Count Jxdian, and the promise he had given to 
 watch over his daughter with paternal care ; his heart was 
 -vitiated by sonsued indulgence, and the consciousness of 
 power had rendered him selfish in his gratifications. 
 
-tmtm 
 
 tbe 
 
 Bar- 
 iark 
 I the 
 eyes 
 ilken 
 
 com- 
 itthe 
 metry 
 
 e con- 
 )rinda, 
 
 bank, 
 
 youth, 
 clashes 
 
 ihy lip» 
 teeth *, 
 
 >oddice, 
 
 I There 
 virgin, 
 around 
 
 lampion 
 
 innocent 
 
 lowever, 
 
 charms 
 
 ley "were 
 
 t. 
 
 d with a 
 
 th fervid 
 
 Lcre was 
 
 je of the 
 
 Int on the 
 
 reposed 
 given to 
 leart was 
 xeM of 
 
 XEOEKD or BON BODEBICK. 
 
 375 
 
 Being one evening in the garden where the queen was 
 diverting herself with her damsels, and coming to the foun- 
 tain where he had beheld the innocent maidens at their sport, 
 lie could no longer restrain the passion that raged within his 
 4>reast. Seating himself beside the fovmtain, he called Flo- 
 rinda to him to draw forth a thorn which had pierced his 
 hand. The maiden knelt at his feet to examine his hand, and 
 the touch of her slender fingers thrilled through his veins. 
 As she knelt, too, her amber locks fell in rich ringlets about 
 her beautiful head, her innocent bosom palpitated beneath 
 the crimson boddice, and her timid blushes increased the 
 e£Eulgence of her charms. 
 
 Having examined the monarch's hand in vain, she looked 
 up in his face with artless perplexity. 
 
 " Senior," said she, *' I can find no thorn, nor any sign of 
 wound." 
 
 Don Roderick grasped her hand, and pressed it to his 
 heart. " It is here, lovely Florinda ;" said he. " It is here ! 
 and thou alone can pluck it forth !" 
 
 "My Lord!" exclaimed the blushing and astonished 
 maiden. 
 
 " Florinda !" said Don Roderick, *' dost thou love me ?" 
 
 " Senior," said she, " my father taught me to love and 
 reverence you. He confided me to your care as one who 
 would be as a parent to me, when he should be far distant, 
 serving your majesty with life and loyalty. May God incline 
 your majesty ever to protect me as a father !" Sc saying, 
 the maiden dropped her eyes to the groimd, and (;ontinued 
 kneeling ; but her countenance had become deadly pale, and 
 as she knelt she trembled. 
 
 '* Florinda," said the king, " either thou dost not or thou 
 wilt not imderstand me. I would have thee love me, not as 
 a father, nor as a monarch, but as one who adores thee. 
 "Why dost thou start ? No one shall know our loves ; and, 
 moreover, the love of a monarch inflicts no degradation like 
 the love of a common man — riches and honours attend upon 
 it. I will advance thee to rank and dignity, and place thee 
 above the proudest females of my court. Thy father, too, 
 shall be more exalted and endowed than any noble in my realm." 
 
 The soft eye of Florinda kindled at these words. " Senior," 
 said she, *' uie line I spring from can receive no dignity by 
 means so vile ; and my father ^ oidd rather die than purchase 
 
 .• M 
 
 t li I 
 
 I 
 
 k 
 
 .1 
 
876 
 
 TH£ CONQUEST OF SFAIK. 
 
 ) 
 
 rank and power by the dishonour of his child. But I sec," 
 continued she, "that your majesty speaks in this manner 
 only to try me. You may have thought me light and simple, 
 and unworthy to attend upon the queen. I pray your majestr 
 to pardon me, that I have taken your pleasantry in sucA 
 serious part." 
 
 In this way the agitated maiden sought to evade the 
 address of the monarch ; but still her cheek was blanched, 
 and her lip quivered as she spake. 
 
 The king pressed her hand to his lips with fervour. " Maj 
 ruin seize me," cried he, " if I speak to prove thee ! My 
 heart, my kingdom are at thy command. Only be mine, 
 and thou shalt rule absclate mistress of myself and my do- 
 mains." 
 
 The damsel rose firom the earth where she had hitherto 
 knelt, and her whole countenance glowed with virtuous indig- 
 nation. " My lord," said she, '* I am your subject, and m 
 your power ; take my life if it be your pleasure ; but nothing 
 shall tempt me to commit a crime which would be treason to 
 the queen, disgrace to my father, agony to my mother, and 
 perdition to myself." With these words she left the garden, 
 and the king, for the moment, was too much awed by her 
 indignant virtue to oppose her departure. 
 
 We shall pass briefly over the succeeding events of the 
 story of Florinda, about which so much has been said and 
 sung by chronicler and bard : for the sober page of history 
 should be carefully chastened from all scenes that might 
 inflame a wanton imagination ; leaving them to poems and 
 romances, and such-like highly seasoned works of £uitafij 
 and recreation. 
 
 Let it suffice to say, that Don Roderick pursued his suit to 
 the beautiful Florinda, his passion being more and more 
 inflamed by the resistance of tne virtuous damsel. At length, 
 forgetting what was due to helpless beauty, to his own honour 
 as a knight, and his word as a sovereign, he triumphed over 
 her weakness by base and unmanly viofence. 
 
 There are not wanting those who affirm that the hapless 
 Florinda lent a yielding ear to the solicitations of the monarch, 
 and her name has been treated with opprobrium in several of 
 the ancient chronicles and legendary biulads that have trans- 
 mitted, from generation to generation, the story of the woes of 
 Spain. In very truth, however, she appears to^ve been a 
 
 take 
 
 pause 
 
 vouth 
 
 he, 
 
 until 
 
 spedh 
 
 verdan 
 
LEGEND OF DON BODEBICK. 
 
 877 
 
 sec," 
 tnnex 
 nple, 
 ijesty 
 sucu 
 
 e the 
 iched, 
 
 "May 
 I My 
 
 mine, 
 my do- 
 
 itherto 
 )ind^(- 
 and in 
 aotbing 
 agon to 
 ler, and 
 garden^ 
 by ber 
 
 of the 
 laid and 
 
 history 
 might 
 lems and 
 
 fantasy 
 
 is suit to 
 nd more 
 t length, 
 n honour 
 hed over 
 
 hapless 
 monarch, 
 several of 
 .ve trans- 
 le "Woes of 
 ^e been a 
 
 guiltless victim, resisting, as far as helpless female could 
 resist, the arts and intrigues of a powerful monarch, who had 
 nought to check the indulgence of his will, and bewailing her 
 disgrace with a poignancy that shows how dearly she had 
 prized her honour. 
 
 In the first paroxysm of her grief she wrote a letter to her 
 father, blotted with her tears, and almost incoherent from her 
 agitation. " Would to God, my father," said she, " that the 
 ^urth had opened and swallowed me ere I had been reduced 
 to write these lines ! I blush to tell thee what it is not proper 
 to conceal. Alas, my father ! thou host intrusted thy lamb to 
 the guardianship of the lion, lliy daughter has been dis- 
 honoured, the royal cradle of the Goths polluted, and our 
 lineage insulted and disgraced. Hasten, my father, to rescue 
 your child from the power of the spoiler, and to vindicate the 
 honour of your house ! " 
 
 When Florinda had written these lines, she summoned a 
 youthful esquire, who had been a page in the service of her 
 fiftther. " Saddle thy steed," said she, " and if thou dost 
 aspire to knightly honour, or hope for lady's grace — if thou 
 hast fealty for thy lord, or devotion to his daughter — speed 
 swiftly upon my errand. Rest not, halt not, spare not the 
 spur, but hie thee day and night until thou reach the sea ; 
 take the first bark, and haste with sail and oar to Ceuta, nor 
 pause until you give this letter to the count my father." The 
 youth put the letter in his bosom. " Trust me, lady," said 
 he, " I will neither halt nor turn aside, nor cast a look behind* 
 until I reach Count Julian." He mounted his fleet steed, 
 sped his way across the bridge, and soon left behind him the 
 verdant valley of the Tagus. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The heart of Don Roderick was not so depraved by sensur 
 ality, but that the wrong he had been guilty of toward the 
 innocent Florinda, and the disgrace he had inflicted on her 
 house weighed heavy on his spirits, and a cloud began to 
 gather on his once clear and unwrinklcd brow. 
 
 Heaven, at this time, say the old Spanish chronicles, per- 
 mitted a marvellous intimation of the wrath with which it 
 intended to visit the mouarch and his people in pimishment of 
 their sins; nor are we, say the same orthodox writers, to 
 
 ft 
 
MMMMM 
 
 
 376 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 startle, and withhold our faith, when w^e meet in the page of 
 discreet and sober history with those signs and portents which 
 transcend the probabilities of ordinary life ; for the revolutions 
 of empires and the downfall of mighty kings are awful events, 
 that snake the physical as well as the moral world, and are 
 often announced by forerunning marvels and prodigioiis 
 omens. With such-like cautious preliminaries do the wary 
 but credulous historiographers of yore usher in a marvellous 
 event of prophecy and enchantment, linked in ancient story 
 with the fortunes of Don Roderick, but which modem doubters 
 would fain hold up as an apocryphal tradition of Arabian 
 origin. 
 
 Now, so it happened, according to the legend, that about 
 this time, as King Roderick was seated one day on his throne, 
 surrounded by his nobles, in the ancient city of Toledo, two 
 men of venerable appearance entered the hall of audience. 
 Their snowy beards descended to their breasts, and their gray 
 hairs were bound with ivy. They were arrayed in white gar- 
 ments of foreign or antiquated fashion, which swept the 
 ground, and were cinctiured with girdles wrought with the 
 signs of the zodiac, from which were suspended enormous 
 bunches of keys of every variety of form. Having approached 
 the throne and made obeisance : *' Know, O king," said one 
 of the old men, '* that in days of yore, when Hercules of 
 Lybia, sumamed the Strong, had set up his pillars at the 
 ocean strait, he erected a tower near to this ancient city of 
 Toledo. He built it of prodigious strength, and finished it 
 with magic art, shutting up within it a fearful secret, never 
 to be penetrated without peril and disaster. To protect this 
 terrible mystery he closed the entrance to the edifice with a 
 ponderous door of iron, secured by a great lock of steel, and 
 he left a conunand that every king who should succeed him 
 should add another lock to the portal, denouncing woe and 
 destruction on him who should eventually unfold the secret of 
 the tower. 
 
 " The guardianship of the portal was given to our ancestors, 
 and has continued in our family from generation to genera- 
 tion, since the days of Hercules. Several kings, from time to 
 time, have caused the gate to be thrown open, and have 
 attempted to enter, but have paid dearly for their temerity. 
 Some nave perished within the threshold, others have been 
 overwhelmed with horror at tremendous sounds, which shook 
 
■»• 
 
 liEOBNI) OF DON SODERICK. 
 
 379 
 
 li 
 
 the foundations of the oarth, and have hastened to reclose the 
 door, and secure it with itN thousand locks. Thus, since the 
 days of Hercules, the inmost recesses of the pile have never 
 been penetrated by mortal man, and a profoimd mystery con- 
 tinues to prevail over this great enchantment. This, O king, 
 is all we have to relate, and our errand is to entreat thee to 
 repair to the tower and affix thy lock to the portal, as has 
 been done by all thy predecessors." Having thus said, the 
 ancient men made a profound reverence and departed from the 
 presence chamber.* 
 
 Don Roderick remained for some time lost in thought after 
 the departure of the men ; he then dismissed all his court, 
 excepting the venerable Urbino, at that time archbishop of 
 Toledo. The long white beard of this prelate bespoke his 
 advanced age, and his overhanging eyebrows showed him a 
 man full of wary counsel. 
 
 ** Father," said the king, ** I have an earnest desire to 
 penetrate the mystery of Uiis tower." The worthy prelate 
 shook his hoary head : " Beware, my son," said he ; " there 
 are secrets hidden from man for his good. Your predecessors 
 for many generations have respected this mystery, and have 
 increased m might and empire. A knowledge of it, there- 
 fore, is not material to the welfare of your kingdom. Seek 
 not, then, to indiilge a rash and unprofitable curiosity, which 
 is interdicted under such avrful menaces." 
 
 " Of what importance," cried the king, " are the menaces 
 of Hercules, the Lybian ? Was he not a pagan ? and can his 
 enchantments have aught avail agaicst a believer in our holy 
 faith } Doubtless, in this tower are locked up treasures of 
 gold and jewels, amassed in days of old, the spoils of mighty 
 kings, the riches of the pagan world. My coffers are ex- 
 hausted ; I have need of supply ; and surely it would be an 
 acceptable act in the eyes of Heaven to draw forth this wealth 
 which lies buried under profane and necromantic spells, and 
 consecrate it to religious purposes." 
 
 The venerable archbishop still continued to remonstrate ; 
 but Don Roderick heeded not his counsel, for he was led on 
 by his malignant star. " Father," said he, " it is in vain you 
 attempt to dissuade me ; my resolution is fixed. To-morrow 
 
 * Ferdita de Espafla por Abalctudm Taiif Abentariqae, lib. i. c^. 8, 
 Cronica del Bey I^n Bodrigo por el moro Basis, lib. i. cap. 1. Bleda, 
 Cron.cap.vii 
 
 i\ 
 1 
 
 7 1 
 i "'li 
 ' Ml 
 
 L 
 
880 
 
 THB CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 I will explore the hidden mystery, or rather the hidden trea- 
 sures, of this tower." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The morning sun shone brightly upon the cliff-built towers 
 of Toledo, when King Roderick issued out of the gate of the 
 city at the head of a numerous train of courtiers and cavaliers, 
 and crossed the bridge that bestrides the deep rocky bed of 
 the Tagus. The shining cavalcade wound up the road that 
 leads among the mountains, and soon came in sight of the 
 necromantic tower. 
 
 Oi this renowned edifice marvels are related by the ancient 
 Arabian and Spanish chroniclers ; " and I doubt much," adds 
 the venerable Agapida, " whether many readers will not con- 
 sider the whole as a cunningly devised fable, sprung from an 
 oriental imagination ; but it is not for me to reject a fact 
 which is recorded by all those writers who are the fathers of 
 our national history : a fact, too, which is as well attested as 
 most of the remarkable events in the story of Don Roderick. 
 None but light and inconsiderate minds," continues the good 
 friar, '* do hastily reject the marvellous. To the thinking 
 mind the whole world is enveloped in mysteiy, and every- 
 thing is full of type and portent. To such a mind the necro- 
 mantic tower of Toledo will appear as one of those wondrous 
 monuments of the olden time ; one of those Egyptian and 
 Chaldaic piles, storied with hidden wisdom and myt^tic pro- 
 phecy, which have been devised in past ages, when man yet 
 enjoyed an intercourse with high and spiritual natures, and 
 when human foresight partook of divination." 
 
 lliis singular tower was round, and of great height and 
 grandeur ; erected upon a lofty rock, and surrounded by crags 
 and precipices, llie foundation was supported by four brazen 
 lions, each taller than a cavalier on horseoack ; the walls were 
 built of small pieces of jasper, and various coloured marbles, 
 not larger tlum a man's hand, so subtilely joined, however, 
 that, but for their diffi^rent hues, they might be taken for one 
 entire stone. They were arranged with marvellous cunning, 
 so as to represent battles, and warlike deeds of times and 
 heroes bng since passed away, and the whole surface was so 
 admirably polished that the stones were as lustrous as glass, 
 
 pause 
 they. 
 
LEGEND OF DON BODEBICK. 
 
 861 
 
 and reflected the rays of the sun with such resplendent bright- 
 ness as to dazzle all beholdci'S.* 
 
 King Roderick and his courtiers arrived wonderin;^ and 
 amazed at the foot of the rock. Here there was a narrow 
 arched way cut through the living stone ; the only entrance 
 to the tower. It was closed by a massive iron gate, covered 
 with rusty locks of divers workmanship, and in the fashion of 
 different centuries, which had been affixed by the predecessors 
 of Don Roderick. On either side of the portal stood the two 
 ancient guardians of the tower, laden with the keys apper- 
 taming to the locks. 
 
 The king alighted, and, approaching the portals, ordered 
 the guardians to unlock the gate, llie hoarj-headed men 
 drew back with terror. "Alas!" cried they, "what is it 
 yo\ir majesty requires of us ? Would you have the mischiefs 
 of this tower unboimd, and let loose to shake the earth to its 
 foundations?" 
 
 The venerable archbishop Urbino likewise implored him not 
 to disturb a mystery which had been held sacred from gene- 
 ration to generation, within the memory of man ; and which 
 i 'en CfC'SOJ himself, when sovereign of Spain, had not ven- 
 tured to invade. The youthful cavaUers, however, were 
 eager to pursue the adventure, and encouraged him in hif» 
 rash curiosity. 
 
 " Come what come may," exclaimed Don Roderick, " I 
 am resolved to penetrate the mystery of this tower." So 
 saying, he again commanded the guardians to unlock the 
 portal. The ancient men obeyed with fear and trembling, 
 but their hands shook with age, and when they applied the 
 keys, the locks were so rusted by time, or of such strange 
 workmanship, that they resisted their feeble efforts ; where- 
 upon the young cavaliers pressed forward and lent their aid. 
 Still the locks were so numerous and difficult, that with all 
 their eagerness and strength, a great part of the day was 
 exhausted before the whole of them could be mastered. 
 
 When the last bolt had yielded to the key, the guardians 
 and the reverend archbishop again entreated the king to 
 pause and reflect. " Wliatever is within this tower," said 
 they, " is as yet hamdess, and lies boimd imder a mighty 
 
 * From the minuto account of the good friar, drawn from the ancient 
 chronicles, it would appear that the waUn of the tower were pictuxsd fai 
 mosaic work» 
 
 
 s' - 
 
 ■ u 
 1 \ 
 
 I', 
 1 
 
 ! 31 
 
 
 i 
 
d62 
 
 THE CONQUEST OP SPAIN. 
 
 If, 
 
 spell: venture not then to open a door which may let forth 
 a flood of evil upon the land." But the anger of the king 
 was roused, and he ordered that the portal should be instantly 
 thrown open. In vain, however, did one after another exert 
 his strength; and equally in vain did the cavaliers unite 
 their forces, and apply their shoulders to the gate : though 
 there was neither bar nor bolt remaining, it was perfectly 
 immoveable. 
 
 The patience of the king was now exhausted, and he 
 advanced to apply his hand; scarcely, however, did he touch 
 the iron gate, when it swung slowly open, uttering, as it 
 were, a dismal groan, as it turned reluctantly upon its hinges. 
 A cold, damp wind issued forth, accompanied by a tem- 
 pestuous sound. The hearts of the ancient guardians quaked 
 within them, and their knees smote together; but several of 
 the youthful cavaliers rushed in, ei^er to gratify their 
 curiosity, or to signalise themselves in this redoubtable enter- 
 prise. They had scarcely advanced a few paces, however, 
 when they recoiled, overcome by the baleful air, or by some 
 fearful vision.* Upon this, the king ordered that fires 
 fihould be kindled to dispel the darkness, and to correct the 
 noxious and long imprisoned air : he then led the way into 
 the interior; but, though stout of heart, he advanced with 
 awe and hesitation. 
 
 After proceeding a short distance, he entered a hall, or 
 antechamber, on the opposite side of which was a door; and 
 before it, on a pedestal, stood a gigantic figure, of the colour 
 of bronze, and of a terrible aspect. It held a huge mace, 
 which it whirled incessantly, giving such cruel and resound- 
 ing blows upon the earth as to prevent all further entrance. 
 
 The king paused at sight of this appalling figure; for 
 whether it were a living being, or a statue of magic artifice, 
 he could not tell. On its breast was a scroll, whereon was 
 inscribed in large letters, "I domyduty.f" After a little 
 while Roderick plucked up heart, and addressed it with 
 
 f-eat solemnity: "Whatever thou be," said he, "know that 
 come not to violate this sanctuary, but to inquire into the 
 mystery it contains ; I conjure thee, therefore, to let me pass 
 in safety." 
 
 Upon this, the figure paused with uplifted mace, end the 
 Jung and his train passed immolestcd through the door. 
 * BledA, Cronica, cap. 7. f Ibid. 
 
LEGEND OF DON BODEBICK. 
 
 383 
 
 hall, or 
 and 
 
 colour 
 
 mace, 
 esound- 
 rance. 
 ire; for 
 artifice, 
 eon was 
 
 a little 
 it with 
 ow that 
 
 nto the 
 me pass 
 
 end the 
 
 They now entered a vast chamber, of a rare and sumptuous 
 architecture, difficult to be described. The walls were in- 
 crusted with the most precious gems, so joined together as to 
 form one smooth and perfect surface. The lofty dome ap- 
 peared to be self-supported, and was studded with gems, 
 lustrous as the stars of the firmament. There was neither wood 
 nor any other common or base material to be seen throughout 
 the edifice. There were no windows or other openings to 
 admit the day, yet a radiant light was spread throughout the 
 place, which seemed to shine from the walls, and to render 
 every object distinctly visible. 
 
 In the centre of this hall stood a table of alabaster, of the 
 rarest workmanship, on which was inscribed in Greek cha- 
 racters, that Hercides Alcidcs, the Theban Greek, had founded 
 this tower in the year of the world three thousand and six. 
 Upon the table stood a golden casket, richly set round with 
 precious stones, and closed with a lock of mother-of-pearl ; 
 and on the lid were inscribed the following words: — 
 
 " In this coffer is contained the mystery of the tower. The 
 hand of none but a king can open it ; but let him beware ! 
 for marvellous events will be revealed to him, which are to 
 take place before his death." 
 
 King Roderick boldly seized upon the casket. The vene- 
 rable archbishop laid his hand upon his arm, and made a last 
 remonstrance. "Forbear, my son!" said he; "desist while 
 there is yet time. Look not into the mysterious decrees of 
 Providence. God has hidden them in mercy from our sight, 
 and it is impious to rend the veil by which they are con- 
 cealed." 
 
 " What have I to dread from a knowledge of the future?" 
 replied Roderick, with an air of haughty presumption. " If 
 good be destined me, I shall enjoy it by anticipation : if evil, 
 I shall arm myself to meet it." So saying, he rashly broke 
 the lock. 
 
 Within the coffer he foimd nothing but a linen cloth, folded 
 between two tablets of copper. On unfolding it, he beheld 
 painted on it figures of men on horseback, of fierce demeanour, 
 clad in turbans and robes of various colours, ailer the fashion 
 of the Arabs, with scimitars hanging from their necks, and 
 crossbows at their saddle backs, and they carried banners 
 and pennons with divers devices. Above them was in- 
 scribed in Greek characters, "Rash monarch! behold the 
 
 
 ' It 
 
 ■i 'I 
 
 11 
 
384 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF 8FAIN. 
 
 men who are to hurl thee £rom thy throne, and subdue thy 
 kingdom!" 
 
 At sight of these thii^ the king was troubled in spirit, 
 and dismay fell upon his attendants. While they were yet 
 r^arding the paintings, it seemed as if the figures began to 
 move, and a faint sound of warlike tumult arose from the 
 cloth, with the clash of cymbal and bray of trumpet, the 
 neigh of steed and shout of anny; but all was heard indis- 
 tinctly, as if afar off, or in a reverie or dream. The more 
 they gazed, the plainer became the motion, and the loucter 
 the noise ; and the linen cloth rolled forth, and amplified, 
 and spread out, as it were, a mighty banner, and filled the 
 hall, and mingled with the air, until its texture was no 
 longer visible, or appeared as a transparent cloud: and the 
 shadowy figures became all in motion, and the din and 
 uproar became fiercer and fiercer; and whether the whole 
 were an animated picture, or a vision, or an array of embodied 
 spirits, conjured up by supernatural power, no one present 
 could tell. They beheld before them a great field of battle, 
 where Christians and Moslems were engaged in deadly 
 conflict. They heard the rush and tramp of steeds, the blast 
 of trump and clarion, the clash of cymbal, and the stormy 
 din of a thousand drums. There was the clash of swords, 
 and maces, and battle-axes, with the whistling of arrows, 
 and the hurling of darts and lances. The Christians quailed 
 before the foe ; the infidels pressed upon them and put them 
 to utter rout; the standard of the Cross was cast down, the 
 banner of Spain was trodden under foot, the air resounded 
 with shouts of triumph, with yells of fury, and with the 
 groans of dying men. Amidst the flying squadrons. King 
 Roderick beheld a crowned warrior, whose back was turned 
 towards him, but whose armour and device were his own, 
 and who was mounted on a white steed that resembled his 
 own war-horse Orelia. In the confusion of the flight, the 
 warrior was dismounted, and was no longer to be seen, and 
 Orelia galloped wildly through the field of battle without a 
 rider. 
 
 Iloderick stayed to see no more, but rushed from the fatal 
 hall, followed by his terrified attendants, llicy fled through 
 the outer chamber, whore the gigantic figure with the whirl- 
 ing mace had disappeared from his pedestal ; and on issuing 
 into the open air, they found the two ancient guardians of 
 
 the to 
 crushc 
 clear i 
 darker 
 air, an 
 The 
 but th 
 mayed 
 groans 
 train h 
 tempi,s 
 trees vt 
 and ro) 
 affright 
 had issi 
 claps ol 
 they hci 
 of armi 
 and ove 
 arrived t 
 and entj 
 had beei 
 In th 
 natiire ^ 
 issued £ 
 tower, f 
 once m( 
 that thp 
 in sight 
 eagle ap 
 heaven, 
 on the fl 
 In a Uttl 
 it had be 
 air with 
 they eeas 
 reduced 1 
 birds, sm 
 a cloud ; 
 the ashes 
 whole wa 
 Spain, an 
 
LEGEND OF DOK RODERICK. 
 
 385 
 
 le ihy 
 
 spirit, 
 
 jre yet 
 
 gan to 
 
 im the 
 
 et, the 
 
 L indis- 
 
 e more 
 louder 
 
 Lplified, 
 
 led the 
 
 was no 
 
 and the 
 
 Un and 
 
 B whole 
 
 oabodied 
 present 
 
 f battle, 
 deadly 
 
 the blast 
 
 B stormy 
 swords, 
 arrows, 
 quailed 
 ►ut them 
 own, the 
 Bsounded 
 with the 
 DS, King 
 as turned 
 his own, 
 ibled his 
 light, the 
 seen, and 
 ivithout a 
 
 the tower lying dead at the portal, as though they had been 
 crushed by some mighty blow. All nature, which had been 
 clear and serene, was now in wild uproar. The heavens were 
 darkened by heavy clouds ; loud bursts of thunder rent the 
 air, and the earth was deluged with rain and rattling hail. 
 
 The king ordered that the iron portal should be closed; 
 but the door was immoveable, and the cavaliers were dis- 
 mayed by the tremendous turmoil and the mingled shouts and 
 groans that continued to prevail within. The king and hia 
 train hastened back to Toledo, pursued and pelted by the 
 tempest. The mountains shook and echoed with the thunder, 
 trees were uprooted and blown down, and the Tagus raged 
 and roared and flowed above its banks. It seemed to the 
 afiH(^hted courtiei's as if the phantom legions of the tower 
 had issued forth and mingled \/ith the storm ; for amidst the 
 claps of thunder and the howling of the wind, tliey fancied 
 they heard the sound of the drums and trumpets, the shouts 
 of armies and the rush of steeds. Thus beaten by tempest, 
 and overwhelmed with horror, the king and his courtiers 
 arrived at Toledo, clattering across the bridge of the Tagus, 
 and entering the gate in headlong confusion, as though they 
 had been pursued by an enemy. 
 
 In the morning the heavens were again serene, and all 
 nature was restored to tranquillity. The king, therefore, 
 issued forth with his cavaliers, and took the road to the 
 tower, followed by a great multitude, for he was anxious 
 once more to close the iron door, and shut up those evils 
 that threatened to overwhelm the land. But lo ! on coming 
 in sight of the tower, a new wonder met their eyes. An 
 eagle appeared high in the air, seeming to descend from 
 heaven. He bore in his beak a burning brand, and lighting 
 on the summit of the tower, fanned the fire with his wings. 
 In a little while the edifice burst forth into a blaze, as though 
 it had been built of rosin, and the flames mounted into the 
 air with a brilliancy more dazzling than the sun; nor did 
 they cease until every stone was consumed, and the whole was 
 reduced to a heap of ashes. Then there came a vast flight of 
 birds, small of size and sable of hue, darkening the sky like 
 a cloud; and they descended and wheeled in circles round 
 the ashes, causing so great a wind with their wings that the 
 whole was borne up into the air and scattered throughout all 
 Spain, and wherever a particle of those ashes fell it was as a 
 
 '.1 
 
 ) 
 
 i 
 
 U 
 
 i tj 
 
 i ^11 
 
386 
 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPjLIN. 
 
 stain of blood. It is furthermore recorded by ancient men 
 and wi-iters of former days, that all those on whom this dust 
 fell were afterwards slain in battle, when the country was 
 conquered by the Arabs, and that the destruction of this 
 necromantic tower was a sign and token of the approaching 
 perdition of Spain. 
 
 " Let all those," concludes the cautious friar, " who 
 question the verity of this most marvellous occurrence, con- 
 sult those admirable sources of our history, the chronicle of 
 the Moor Rasis, and the work entitled, ' The Fall of Spain,' 
 written by the Moor, Abulcasim Tarif Abentarique. Let 
 them consult, moreover, the venerable historian Bleda, and 
 the cloud of other Catholic Spanish writers, who have treated 
 of this event, and they will find I have related nothing that 
 has not been printed and published under the inspection and 
 sanction of om' holy mother church. God alone knoweth the 
 truth of these things; I speak nothing but what has been 
 handed down to me from times of old." 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The course of oiu: legendary narration now returns to 
 notice the fortunes of Count Julian, after his departure from 
 Toledo, to resume his government on the coast of Barbary. 
 He left the Countess Frandina at Algeziras, his paternal 
 domain, for the province imder his command was threatened 
 with invasion. In fact, when he arrived at Ceuta he found 
 his post in imminent danger from the all-conquering Moslems. 
 The Arabs of the East, the followers of Mahomet, having sub- 
 jugated several of the most potent oriental kingdoms, had 
 established their seat of empire at Damascus, where, at this 
 time, it was filled by Waled Almanzor, surnamed " the Sword 
 of God." From thence the tide of Moslem conquest had 
 rolled on to the shores of the Atlantic ; so that all Almagrcb, 
 or Western Africa, had submitted to the standard of the pro- 
 phet, with the exception of a portion of Tingitania, lying 
 along the straits ; bemg the province V '"^ by the Coths of 
 Spain, and commanded by Count Julius. The Arab invaders 
 were a hundred thousand strong, most of them veteran troops, 
 seasoned in warfare and accustomed to victoiy. They were 
 led by an old Arab general, Muza ben Nosier, to whom waa 
 confided the government of Almagreb ; most of which he had 
 
 hims 
 make 
 tians 
 mena 
 Mrhile 
 Thei! 
 succcs 
 sacred 
 delays 
 bmlt t 
 storm, 
 the 8WJ 
 of fien 
 frontiw 
 paired 
 manded 
 renown, 
 Were re 
 Don Jul 
 and so si 
 to break! 
 The V 
 spread u 
 €xultatic 
 iaUed bj 
 and blea 
 Count Ji 
 but it wa 
 ofhavini 
 In the] 
 the peopj 
 ^ho bor 4 
 "Whal 
 pogekncf 
 *' but I bj 
 He tool 
 
 and fei. 
 serving a 
 by my coJ 
 %v evil I 
 cease unti 
 
BJ^.V^V; 
 
 LEOEXD OF DON BODEBIOK. 
 
 387 
 
 aen 
 hist 
 was 
 this 
 liing 
 
 who 
 coa- 
 jle of 
 aain,' 
 Let 
 I, and 
 L-eated 
 r that 
 )Qaxid 
 th the 
 3 been 
 
 arns 
 
 js to 
 re from 
 arbary. 
 jaternal 
 eatened 
 e found 
 Losleras. 
 ig sub- 
 L8, had 
 at this 
 [e Sword 
 lest had 
 Lmagreb, 
 the pro- 
 
 ^la, lying 
 ;oth8 ot 
 invaders 
 In troops, 
 ley were 
 ^om was 
 S^ he had 
 
 himself conquered. The ambition of this veteran was to 
 make the Moslem conquest complete, by expelling the Chris- 
 tians from the African shores ; with this view his troops 
 menaced the few remaining Gothic fortresses of Tingitania, 
 while he himself sat down in person before the walls of Ceuta. 
 The Arab chieftain had been rendered confident by continual 
 success, and thought nothing could resist his arms and the 
 sacred standard of the prophet. Impatient of the tedious 
 delays of a siege, he led his troops boldly against the rock- 
 built towers of Ceuta, and attempted to take the place by 
 storm. The onset was fierce, and the struggle desperate : 
 the swarthy sons of the desert were light and vigorous, and 
 of fiery spirits ; but the Goths, inured to danger on this 
 frontier, retained the stubborn valour of their race, so im- 
 paired among their brethren in Spain. They were com- 
 manded, too, by one skilled in warfare, and ambitious of 
 renown. After a vehement conflict, the Moslem assailants 
 were repulsed from all points, and driven from the walls. 
 Don Julian sallied forth, and harassed them in their retreat; 
 and so severe was the carnage, that the veteran Muza was fain 
 to break up his camp and retire confounded from the siege. 
 
 The victory at Ceuta resounded throughout Tingitania, and 
 spread universal joy. On every side were heard shouts of 
 exidtation mingled with praises of Count Julian. He was 
 hailed by the people, wherever he went, as their deliverer, 
 and blessings were invoked upon his head. The heart of 
 Count Julian was lifted up, and his spirit swelled within him ; 
 but it was with noble and virtuous pride, for he was conscious 
 of having merited the blessings of his country. 
 
 In the midst of his exultation, and while the rejoicings of 
 the people were yet sounding in his ears, the page arrived 
 who bore the letter from his unfortunate daughter. 
 
 *' What tidings from the king ?" said the count, as the 
 page knelt before him : " None my lord," replied the youth, 
 " but I bear a letter sent in all haste by the Lady Florinda." 
 
 He took the letter from his bosom and presented it to his 
 lord. As Count Julian read it, his countenance darkened 
 and fell. " This," said he, bitterly, " is my reward for 
 serving a tyrant ; and these are the honours heaped on me 
 by my country, while fighting its battles in a foreign land. 
 May evil overtake me, and infamy rest u on my name, if I 
 cease until I have full measure of revenge. ' 
 
 (1 
 
 
 i 4 
 
388 
 
 XH£ CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 V' 
 
 Count Julian was Tehement in his passions, and took no 
 counsel in his wrath. His spirit was haughty in the extreme, 
 but destitute of tne magnanimity, and when once wounded 
 turned to gall and yenom. A dark and malignant hatred 
 entered into his soul, not only against Don Roderick, but 
 against all Spain : ho looked upon it as the scene of his dis- 
 grace, a land in which Lis family was dishonoured ; and, in 
 seeking to avenge the wrongs he had suffered from his 
 sovereign, he meditated against his native country one of the 
 blackest schemes of treason that ever entered into the human 
 heart. 
 
 The plan of Count Julian was to hurl King Roderick irom 
 his throne, and to deliver all Spain into the hands of the infi- 
 dels. In concerting and executing this treacherous plot, it 
 seemed as if his whole nature was changed ; every lofty and 
 generous sentiment was stifled, and he stooped to the meanest 
 dissimulation. His first object was to extricate his family 
 from the power of the king, and to remove it from Spain 
 before his treason should be known ; his next, to deprive the 
 country of its remaining means of defence against an invader. 
 
 With these dark purposes at heart, but with an open and 
 serene countenance, he crossed to Spain, and repaired to the 
 coiui: at Toledo. Wherever he came he was hailed with 
 acclamations as a victorious general, and appeared in the pre- 
 sence of his sovereign radiant with the victory of Ceuta. 
 Concealing from King Roderick his knowledge of the outrage 
 upon his house, he professed nothing but die most devoted 
 loyalty and affection. 
 
 The king loaded him with favours ; seeking to appease his 
 own conscience by heaping honours upon the father m atone- 
 ment of the deadly vnx)ng inflicted upon his child. He 
 regarded Coimt Julian, also, as a man able and experienced in 
 warfare, and took his advice in all matters relating to the 
 military affairs of the kingdom. The count magnified the 
 dangers that threatened the frontier \mder his command, and 
 prevailed upon the king to send thither the best horses and 
 arms remaining from the time of Witiza, there being no need 
 of them in the centre of Spain in its present tranquil state. 
 The residue, at his suggestion, was stationed on the frontiers 
 of Gallia ; so that the kingdom was left almost wholly without 
 defence against any sudden irruption from the south. 
 
 Having thxis artfully arranged his plans, and all things 
 
 beia 
 
 miss 
 
 her ^ 
 
 tend) 
 
 out 
 
 cho8( 
 
 pale ) 
 
 him I 
 
 loathi 
 
 back 1 
 
 hand 
 
 which 
 
 he, " 
 
 dwellii 
 
 Inh 
 
 him wi 
 
 songoi 
 
 sight ai 
 
 and, in 
 
 see the 
 
 sword I 
 
 The 
 been m 
 hapless 
 her necl 
 countesi 
 spirit an 
 in the fi 
 thou su 
 I am, _ 
 until rivi 
 
 "Be 
 and win 
 Being 
 and frier 
 treason. 
 *he bishc. 
 but devoj 
 This artf) 
 entire coi 
 ^m to nij 
 sons of W 
 
atmm 
 
 LEGEND OF DON BODEBICK. 
 
 389 
 
 lok no 
 treme, 
 )\mded 
 hatred 
 ;k, but 
 lis dis- 
 and, in 
 om bis 
 e of tbe 
 human 
 
 ck froni 
 the infi- 
 plot, it 
 ofty and 
 I meanest 
 is family 
 )m Spain 
 jprive the 
 1 invader. 
 I open and 
 ed to the 
 
 ^ed with 
 a the pro- 
 of Ceuta. 
 le outrage 
 it devoted 
 
 being prepared for his return to Africa, he obtained per- 
 mission to withdraw his daughter from the court, and leave 
 her with her mother, the Countess Frandina, who, ho pre- 
 tended, lay dangerously ill at Algeziras. Count Julian iasucd 
 out of the gate of the city, followed by a shining band of 
 chosen followers, while beside him, on a palfivy, rode the 
 pale and weeping Florinda. The populace hailed and blessed 
 him as he passed, but his heart turned from them with 
 loathing. As he crossed the bridge of the T^us, he looked 
 back with a dark brow upon Toledo, and raised his mailed 
 hand and shook it at the royal palace of King Roderick, 
 which crested the rocky height. " A father's curse," said 
 he, " be upon thee and thine ! May desolation fall upon thy 
 dwelling, and confusion and defeat upon thy realm !" 
 
 In his joumeyings through the country, he looked round 
 him with a malignant eye ; the pipe of the shepherd, and the 
 song of the husbandman, were as discord to his soul ; every 
 sight and sound of human happiness sickened him at heart, 
 and, in the bitterness of his spirit, he prayed that he might 
 see the whole scene of prosperity laid waste with fire and 
 sword by the invader. 
 
 The story of domestic outrage and disgrace had already 
 been made known to the Coimtess Frandina. When th& 
 hapless Florinda came in presence of her mother, she fell on 
 her neck, and hid her face in her bosom, and wept ; but the 
 countess shed never a tear, for she was a woman haughty of 
 spirit and strong of heart. She looked her husband sternly 
 in the face. " Perdition light upon thy head," said she, " if 
 thou submit to this dishonour. For my own part, woman as 
 I am, I will assemble the followers of my house, nor rest 
 until rivers of blood have washed away this stain." 
 
 " Be satisfied," replied the count ; "vengeance is on foot, 
 and will be sure and ample." 
 
 Being now in his own domains, surrounded by his relatives 
 and friends. Count Julian went on to complete his web of 
 treason. In this he was aided by his brother-in-law, Oppas, 
 the bishop of Seville : a man dark and perfidious as the night, 
 but devout in demeanour, and smoothly plausible in council. 
 This artful prelate had contrived to work himself into the 
 entire confidence of the king, and had even prevailed upon 
 him to permit his nephews. Even and Siseburto, the exiled 
 sons of Witiza, to return into Spain. They resided in Auda- 
 
 2 d2 
 
 11 
 
 i '-J 
 
 
 b1 
 
 
090 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 1:1 
 
 f 
 
 !lf 
 
 lusia, and were now looked to as fit instruments in the 
 present traitorous conspiracy. 
 
 By the advice of the bishop, Count Julian called a secret 
 meeting of his relatives and adherents on a wild rocky moun- 
 tain, not far from Consuegra, and which still bears the 
 Moorish appellation of " La Sierra de Calderin," or the moun- 
 tain of treason.* "When all were assembled. Count Julian 
 appeared among them, accompanied by the bishop and by the 
 Countess Frandina. Then gathering around him those who 
 were of his blood and kindred, he revealed the outrage that 
 had been ofiered to their house. He represented to them 
 that Roderick was their legitimate enemy ; that he had 
 dethroned Witiza, their relation, and hii now stained the 
 honour of one of the most illustrious daughters of their line. 
 The Countess Frandina seconded his words. She was a 
 woman majestic in person and eloquent of tongue, and being 
 inspired by a mother's feelings, her speech aroused the assem- 
 bled cavaliers to fury. 
 
 The count took advantage of the excitement of the moment 
 to unfold his plan. The main object was to dethrone Don 
 Boderick, and give the crown to the sons of the late King 
 Witiza. By this means vhey would visit the sins of the 
 tyrant upon his head, and, at the same time, restore the regal 
 honours to their line. For this purpose their own force would 
 be sufficient, but they might procure the aid of Muza ben 
 Nosier, the Arabian general, in Mauritania, who would no 
 doubt gladly send a part of his troops into Spain to assist in 
 the enterprise. 
 
 The plot thus suggested by Count Julian received the un- 
 holy sanction of Bishop Oppas, who engaged to aid it secretlv 
 with all his influence and means : for he had great wealth 
 and possessions, and many retainers. The example of the 
 reverend prelate determined all who might otherwise have 
 wavered, and they bound themselves by dreadful oaths to be 
 true to the conspiracy. Count Julian undertook to proceed 
 to Africa, and seek the camp of Muza, to negociate for hia 
 aid, while the Ushop was to keep about the person of King 
 Roderick, and lead him into the net prepared for him. 
 
 All things being thus arranged. Count Julian gathered 
 toffether his treasure, and taking his wife and daughter and 
 all his houBehold, abandoned the country he meant to betray ; 
 
 * Bleda, cap. 5. 
 
 cmbai 
 that c 
 to bca 
 harlot 
 tiou hi 
 
 Wh 
 Ceuta, 
 with hi 
 for the 
 camp -w 
 lie at t 
 the Atli 
 army h< 
 that ha 
 Islam, 
 fertile i 
 those wl 
 tribes c 
 Syrian i 
 from the 
 tory rov 
 however, 
 the firsi 
 Hahome 
 cultivate! 
 warriors 
 and popu 
 habits of 
 tory hab 
 defiance < 
 Count, 
 by somev 
 vanced in 
 by tinging 
 an air of 
 into his 
 enemies, I 
 to make 
 
 I i 
 
10mm 
 
 LEGEND or DOM BODEBICK. 
 
 391 
 
 in 
 
 tbe 
 
 secret 
 
 motin- 
 ars the 
 smoun- 
 t Julian 
 a by the 
 ase who 
 nige that 
 to them 
 
 he had 
 lined the 
 leir line, 
 le was a 
 ind being 
 he assem- 
 
 le moment 
 irone Don 
 llate King 
 ins of the 
 e the regal 
 Dree wonld 
 Huza ben 
 would no 
 ;o assist in 
 
 ed the un- 
 
 , it secretly 
 
 •eat wealth 
 
 aple of the 
 
 jrwise have 
 
 oaths to be 
 
 to proceed 
 
 iate for his 
 
 [on of King 
 
 lim. 
 
 „ gathered 
 
 Btughter and 
 
 It to betray ; 
 
 embarking at Malaga for Ceuta. The gate in the wall of 
 that city, through which they went forth, continued for ages 
 to bear the name of Puerta de la Cava^ or the gate of the 
 harlot ; for such was the opprobrious and immcrited appella- 
 tion bestowed by the Moors on the unhappy Florinda.* 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 When Count Julian had placed his family in security in 
 Ceuta, siuTOunded by soldiery devoted to his fortunes, he took 
 with him a few confidential followers, and departed in secret 
 for the camp of the Arabian Kmir, Muza ben Nosier. The 
 camp was spread out in one of those pastoral valleys which 
 lie at the feet of the Barbary hills, with the great range of 
 the Atlas moimtains towering in the distance. In the motley 
 army here assembled were warriors of every tribe and nation, 
 that had been imited by pact or conquest in the cause of 
 Islam. There were those who had followed Muza from the 
 fertile regions of Egypt, across the deserts of Barca, and 
 those who had joined his standard from among the sun-burnt 
 tribes of Mauritania. There were Saracen and Tartar, 
 Syrian and Copt, and swarthy Moor; sumptuous warriors 
 from the civilised cities of the east, and the gaunt and preda- 
 tory rovers of the desert. The greater part of the army, 
 however, was composed of Arabs ; but differing greatly from 
 the first rude hordes that enlisted under the banner of 
 Mahomet. Almost a ceutuiy of continual wars with the 
 cultivated nations of the east had rendered them accomplished 
 warriors ; and the occasional sojourn in luxurious countries 
 and populous cities, had acquainted them with the arts and 
 liabits of civilised life. Still the roving, restless, and preda- 
 tory habits of the genuine sou of Ishmael prevailed, in 
 defiance of every change of climo or situation. 
 
 Coimt Julian found the Arab conqueror Muza surrounded 
 by somewhat of oriental state and splendour. He was ad- 
 vanced in life, but of a noble presence, and concealed his age 
 by tinging his hair and beard with henna. The count assumed 
 an air of soldier-like frankness and decision when he came 
 into his presence. " Hitherto," said he, " we have been 
 enemies, but I come to thee in peace, and it rests with thee 
 to make me the most devoted of thy friends. I have no 
 
 * Bleda, cap. 4. 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 
 .1 n 
 
 
 II 
 
 i 
 
392 
 
 THE CONQUESr OF SPAIN. 
 
 I i! 
 
 longer country or king. Roderick the Goth is an usurper, 
 and my deadly foe ; he has wounded my honour in the 
 tenderest point, and my country affords me no redress. Aid 
 me in my vengeance, and I will deliver all Spain into thy 
 hands : a land far exceeding in fertility and wealth all the 
 vaunted regions thou hast conquered in Tingitania." 
 
 The heart of Muza leaped with joy at these words, for he 
 was a bold and ambitious conqueror, and, having overrun all 
 western Africa, had often cast a wistfid eye to the moimtains 
 of Spain, as he beheld them brightening beyond the waters of 
 the strait. Still he possessed the caution of a veteran, and 
 feared to engage in an enterprise of such moment, and to 
 carry his arms into another division of the globe, without the 
 approbation of his sovereign. Having drawn from Count 
 Julian the particulars of his plan, and of the means he 
 possessed to carry it into effect, he laid them before his con- 
 fidential counsellors and officers, and demanded their opinion. 
 " These words of Coimt Julian," said he, " may be false and 
 deceitful; or he may not possess the power to fulfil his 
 promises. The whole may be a pretended treason to draw 
 us on to onr destruction. It is more natural that he should 
 be treacherous to us than to his country." 
 
 Among the generals of Muza, was a gaunt, swarthy veteran, 
 scarred with wounds ; a very Arab, whose great delight was 
 roving and desperate enterprise ; and who cared for nothing 
 beyond his steed, his lance, and iiis scimitar. He was a 
 native of Damascus ; his name was Taric ben Zeyad ; but, 
 £rom having lost an eye, he was known among the Spaniards 
 by the appellation of Taric el Tuerto, or Taric the one-eyed. 
 
 The hot blood of this veteran Ishmaelite was in a ferment 
 when he heard of a new country to invade, and vast regions 
 to subdue ; and he dreaded lest the cautious hesitation of 
 Muza should permit the glorious prize to escape them. " You 
 speak doubtingly," said he, " of the words of this Christian 
 cavalier, but their truth is easily to be ascertained. Give me 
 four galleys and a handful of men, and I will depart with this 
 Count Julian, skirt the Christian coast, and bring thee back 
 tidings of the land, and of his means to put it in our power." 
 
 The words of the veteran pleased Muza ben Nosier, and he 
 gave his consent ; and Taric departed with four galleys and 
 five hundred men, guided by the traitor Julian.* This first 
 
 * Beuter, Cron. Gen. de Espafia, lib. i. cap. 28. Harmol. Descrip. de 
 Africa, lib. 2. cap. 10. 
 
WFW 
 
 LEGEND OF DON BODEBICK. 
 
 S9S 
 
 expedition of the Arabs against Spain took place, according to 
 certain historians, in the year of our Lord seven hundred and 
 twelve ; though others diflPer on this point, as indeed they do 
 upon almost every point in this early period of Spanish 
 history. The date to which the judicious chroniclers incline, 
 is that of seven hundred and ten, in the month of July. It 
 would appear from some authorities, also, that the galleys of 
 Taric cruised along the coasts of Andalusia and Lusitania, 
 mider the feigned character of merchant barks ; nor is this at 
 all improbaWe, while they were seeking merely to observe 
 the land, and get a knowledge of the harbours. Wherever 
 Ihey touched, Coimt Julian despatched emissaries, to assemble 
 his friends and adherents at an appointed place. They 
 gathered together secretly at Gezira Alhadra, that is to say 
 the Green Island ; where they held a conference with Count 
 Julian in presence of Taric ben Zej'ad.* Here they again 
 avowed their readiness to flock to his standard whenever it 
 should be openly raised, and made known their various pre- 
 parations for a rebellion. Taric was convinced, by all that 
 he had seen and heard, that Count Julian had not deceived 
 them ; either as to his disposition or his means to betray his 
 country. Indulging his Arab inclinations, he made an inroad 
 into the land, collected great spoil and many captives, and 
 bore off his plunder in triumph to Muza, as a specimen of the 
 riches to be gained by the conquest of the Christian land.f 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 On hearing the tidings brought by Taric el Tuerto, and 
 beholding the spoil he had collected, Muza \«Tote a letter to 
 the Caliph Waled Almanzor, setting forth the traitorous 
 proffer of Count Julian, and the probability, through his 
 means, of making a successful invasion of Spain. ** A new 
 land," said he, " spreads itself out before our delighted eyes, 
 and invites our conquest : a land, too, that equals Syria in 
 the fertility of its soil, and the serenity of its sky ; Yemen, or 
 Arabia the happy, in its delightful temperature ; India, in its 
 flowers and spices ; Hcgias, in its fruits and flowers ; Cathay, 
 in its precious minerals ; and Aden, in the excellence of its 
 ports and harbours! It is populous also, and wealthy; 
 
 * Bleda, Cron. cap. 6. 
 t Conde, Hist Dom. Anb. part i. cap. 8. 
 
 ! r. 
 
 i'l 
 
 T I, 
 
 I : 
 
 li 
 
 • n 
 
394 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 i i! 
 
 Iiaving mauy splendid cities, and majestic monuments of 
 ancient art. What is to prevent this glorious land from be- 
 coming the inheritance of the faithful ? Already we have 
 overcome the tribes of Berbery, of Zab, of Derar, of Zaara, 
 Mazamuda and Sus ; and the victorious standard of Islam 
 floats on the towers of Tangier. But four leagues of sea 
 separate us from the opposite coast. One word from my 
 sovereign, and the conquerors of Africa will pour their 
 legions into Andalusia, rescue it from the domination of the 
 unbeliever, and subdue it to the law of the Koran."* 
 
 The Caliph was overjoyed with the contents of the letter. 
 " God is great ! " exclaimed he, " and Mahomet is his prophet 1 
 It has been foretold by the ambassador of God, that his law 
 should extend to the \dtimate parts of the west, and be carried 
 by the sword into new anv! unknown regions. Behold, 
 another land is opeiiod for the triumphs of the faithful ! It 
 is the will of Allah, and be his sovereign will obeyed !" So 
 the Caliph sent missives to Muza, authorising him to imder> 
 take the conquest. 
 
 Upon this there was a great stir of preparation, and 
 numerous vessels were assembled and equipped at Tangier to 
 convey the invading army across the Straits. Twelve thou- 
 sand men were chosen for this expedition, most of them light 
 Arabian troops, seasoned in warfare, and fitted for hardy and 
 rapid enterprise. Among them were many horsemen, 
 mounted on fleet Arabian steeds. The wholt was put under 
 the command of the veteran Taric el Tuerto, or the one-eyed, 
 in whom Muza reposed implicit confidence, as in a second 
 self. Taric accepted the command with joy ; his martial fire 
 was roused at the idea of hav:*ig such nn army under his sole 
 command and such a country to overrun, and he secretly 
 determined never to return unless victorious. 
 
 He chose a dark night to convey his troops across the Strait» 
 of Hercules, and, by break of day, they began to disembark 
 at Tarifa, before the country had time to take the alarm. A 
 few Christians hastily assembled from the neighbourhood, and 
 opposed their landing, but were eanily put to flight. Taric 
 stood on the sea-side, and watched until the last squadron hud 
 landed, and all the horses, armour, and munitions of war were 
 brought on shore; he then gave orders to set fire to the 
 ships. The Moslems were struck with terror when they 
 
 * Cond«, part i. cap. 8. 
 
 CTil. 
 
mmm 
 
 [its of 
 m be- 
 ! have 
 Zaara» 
 Islam 
 of sea 
 >m my 
 their 
 of the 
 
 letter, 
 rophet I 
 bis law 
 carried 
 Behold, 
 Pul! It 
 I!" So 
 > \mder- 
 
 on, and 
 ngier to 
 ve thou- 
 m light 
 rdy and 
 irsemen* 
 t \mder 
 e-eyed, 
 second 
 Irtial fire 
 his sole 
 secretly 
 
 Ic Stmit» 
 Iscmbark 
 A 
 |ood, and 
 Taric. 
 ron had 
 ^ar were 
 to the 
 ken they 
 
 LEGEND OF DON BODERICK. 
 
 395 
 
 beheld their fleet wrapped in flames and smoke, and sinking 
 beneath the waves. " How shall we escape," exclaimed they, 
 " if the fortune of war shouM be against us ?" " There is no 
 escape for the coward !" cried Taric : " the brave man thinks 
 of none; yom* only chance is victory." "But how, without 
 ships, shall we ever return to our homes ?" " Your home," 
 replied Taric, " is before you ; but you must win it with yom* 
 swords." 
 
 While Taric was yet talking with his followers, says one of 
 the ancient chroniclers, a Christian female was descried 
 waving a white pennon on a reed, in signal of peace. On 
 being brought into the presence of Taric she prostrated 
 herself before him. " Senior," said she, " I am an ancient 
 woman, and it is now full sixty years, pant and gone, since, as 
 I was keeping vigils one winter's night by the fireside, I 
 heard my father, who was an exceeding old man, read a pro- 
 phecy, said to have been written by a holy friar, and this waa 
 the purport of the prophecy ; — that a time would anive when 
 our country would l>e invaded and conquered by a people from 
 Africa, of a strange garb, a strange tongue, and a strange 
 religion. They were to be led by a strong and valiant 
 captain, who would be known by these signs : on his right 
 shoulder he would have a hairy mole, and his right arm would 
 be much longer than the left, and of such length as to enable 
 him to cover his knee with his hand without bending hi» 
 body." 
 
 Taric listened to the old beldame with grave attention ; 
 and, when she had concluded, he laid bare his shoulder, and 
 lo ! there was the mole as it had been described ; his right 
 arm, also, was, in verity, found to exceed the other in length, 
 though not to the degree that had been mentioned. Upon 
 this the Arab host shouted for joy, and felt assured of 
 conquest.* 
 
 The discreet Antonio Agapida, though he records thift 
 circumstance as it is set down in ancient chronicle, yet with- 
 holds his belief from the pretended prophecy, considering the 
 whole a cunning device of Taric to increase the courage of 
 his troops. " Doubtless," says ho, " there was a collusion 
 between this ancient sybil and the crafty son of Ishmael ; for 
 these infidel leaders were full of damnable inventions, to 
 
 * Pwdid* do EspaAa, por AbulcMim Tarif Ab«ntariqa«, lib. i. 
 c. tU. 
 
 ' M 
 
 f 
 
 VI 
 
396 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SFAIN. 
 
 Work upon the superstitious fancies of their followers, and to 
 inspire them with a blind confidence in the success of their 
 arms. 
 
 Be this as it may, the veteran Taric took advantage of the 
 excitement of his soldiery, and led them forward to gain 
 possession of a strong-hold which was, in a manner, the key 
 to all the adjacent country. This was a lofty mountain, or 
 promontory, almost surrounded by the sea, and connected 
 with the main land by a narrow isthmus. It was called the 
 rock of Calpe, and, like the opposite rock of Ceuta, com- 
 manded the entrance to the Mediterranean Sea. Here, in old 
 times, Hercules had set up one of his pillars, and the city of 
 Heraclea had been built. 
 
 As Taric advanced against this promontory, he was opposed 
 by a hasty levy of the Christians, who had assembled under 
 the banner of a Gothic noble of great power and importance, 
 whose domains lay along the mountainous coast of the Medi- 
 terranean. The name of this Christian cavalier was Theo- 
 domir, but he has universally been called Tadmir by the 
 Arabian historians, and is renowned as being the first com- 
 mander that made any stand against the inroad of the 
 Moslems. He was about forty years of age, hardy, prompt, 
 and sagacious ; and had all the Gothic nobles been equally 
 vigilant and shrewd in their defence, the banner of Islam 
 would never have triumphe<l over the land. 
 
 Theodomir had but seventeen hundred men under his 
 command, and these but rudely armed; yet he made a resolute 
 staml against the army of Taric, and defended the pass to the 
 promont ry with great valour. He was, at length, obliged to 
 retreat ; and Taric advanced, and planted his standard on the 
 rock of Calpe, and fortified it as his stronghold, and as the 
 means of si<curing an entrance into the land. To comme- 
 morate his first victory, he changed the name of the promon- 
 tory, and called it Gibel Taric, or the mountain of Taric ; but 
 in process of time, the name has gradually been altered to 
 Gibraltar. 
 
 In the meantime, the patriotic chieftain, Theodomir, having 
 oollected his routed forces, encamped with them on the skirts 
 of the mountains, and summonca the country round to join 
 his standanl. He sent off missives, in all speed, to the king, 
 importing, in brief ami blunt terms, the news of the invasion, 
 and craving assistance with ec^ual frankness. " Senior," said 
 
 he, 
 
 whe 
 
 seen 
 
 We 
 
 and ^ 
 
 our t 
 
 rathe 
 
 W] 
 had p< 
 vision 
 fear c 
 hardili 
 degrad 
 of soul 
 summo 
 tfcousai 
 of Com 
 for the 
 really i 
 took th 
 been a 
 most of 
 cuirassc 
 rust. ' 
 horses, 
 little fi( 
 paigns. 
 This 
 kinsman 
 and of 
 inarch \i 
 on the 
 
 Inth( 
 foroemei 
 and all tl 
 flocked t 
 sentotiori 
 oome to 
 
mt 
 
 LEGEND OF liOX KODEUICK. 
 
 395 
 
 lie, in his letter, " the legions of Africa are upon us, but 
 whether they come from heaven or earth I know not. They 
 seem to have fallen from the clouds, for they have no ships. 
 We have been taken by surprise, overpowered by numbers, 
 and obliged to retreat ; and they have fortified themselves in 
 our territory. Send us aid, senior, with instant speed ; or, 
 rather, come yourself to our assistance."* 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 When Don Roderick heard that legions of turbaned tro(^ 
 had poured into the land from Africa, he called to mind the 
 visions and predictions of the necromantic tower, and great 
 fear came upon him. But, though sunk from his former 
 hardihood and virtue, though enervated by indulgence, and 
 degraded in spirit by a consciousness of crime, he was resolute 
 of soul, and roused himself to meet the coming danger. He 
 summoned a hasty levy of horse and foot, amounting to forty 
 thousand ; but now were felt the effects of the crafty council 
 of Count Jul ''an, for the best of the horses and armour intended 
 for the public service had been sent into Africa, and were 
 really in possession of the traitors. Many nobles, it is true, 
 took the field with the sumptuous array with which they had 
 been accustomed to appear at tournaments and jousts, but 
 most of their vassals were destitute of weapons, and cased in 
 cuirasses of leather, or suits of armour almost consumed by 
 rust. They were without discipline or animation ; and their 
 horses, like themselves, pampered by slothful peace, were 
 little fitted to bear the heat, the dust, and toil, of long cam- 
 paigns. 
 
 'ftiis army Don Roderick put under the command of his 
 kinsman, Ataulpho, a prince of the royal blood of the Ooths, 
 and of a noble and generous nature ; and he ordered him to 
 march with all speed to meet the foe, and to recruit his forces 
 on the way with the troops of Theodomir. 
 
 In the meantime, Taric el Tuerto had received large rein- 
 forcements from Africa, and the adherents of Count Julian, 
 and all those discontented with the sway of Don Roderick, had 
 flocked to his standard, for many were deceived by the repre- 
 sentations of Count Julian, and thought that the Arabs had 
 come to aid him in placing the sons of Witiza upon the 
 
 * Condo, pari i. c. ix. 
 
 Si 
 
 '. 
 
 I 
 
I) 
 
 I 
 
 398 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF 8PAIK. 
 
 tliiTone. Guided by the count, the troops of Taric penetrated 
 into various parts of the country, and laid waste the land, 
 bringing back loads of spoil to their strong-hold at the rock of 
 Calpe. 
 
 The prince Ataulpho marched with his army through Anda- 
 lusia, and was joined by Theodomir with his troops ; he met 
 with various detachments of the enemy foraging the country, 
 and had several bloody skirmishes ; but he succeeded m 
 driving them before him, and thoy retreated to the rock of 
 Calpe, where Taric lay gathered up with the main body of his 
 army. 
 
 The prince encamped not far from the bay which spreads 
 itself out before the promontory. In the evening he 
 despatched the veteran Theodomir, with a trumpet, to demand 
 a parley of the Arab chieftain, who received the envoy in hi» 
 tent, surrounded by his captains. Theodomir was frank and 
 abrupt in his speech, for the most of his life had been passed 
 far from courts. He delivered, in round terms, the message 
 of the Prince Ataulpho, upbraiding the Arab general with 
 his wanton invasion of the land, and siunmoning him to sur- 
 render his army, or to expect no mercy. 
 
 The single eye of Taric el Tuerto glowed like a coal of fire 
 at this message. " Tell your commander," replied he, " that 
 I have crossed the strait to conquer Spain, nor will I return 
 until I have accomplished my purpose. Tell him I have men 
 skilled in war, and armed in proof, with whose aid I trust 
 soon to give a good account of his rabble host." 
 
 A murmur of applause passed through the assemblage of 
 Moslem captains. 'J'heodomir glanced on them with a look 
 of defiance, but his eye rested on a renegado Christian, one of 
 his own ancient comrades, and a relation of Count Julian. 
 " As to you, Don Greybeard," said he, " you who turn 
 apostate in your declining age, I here pronounce you a traitor 
 to your God, your king, and country, and stand ready to 
 prove it this instant upon your body, il' field be granted me." 
 
 The traitor knight was stung with rage at these words, for 
 truth rendered them piercing to the heart. He would have 
 immediately answered to the challenge, but Taric forbade it, 
 and ordered that the Christian envoy should be conducted 
 fi-om the camp. " 'Tis well," replied Theodomir ; " God will 
 
 S've me the field which you deny. Let yon hoary apostate 
 ok to himself to-morrow in the battle, for I pledge myself 
 
■■MV^bi 
 
 ^mmm 
 
 LEGEND OF DON BODERICK. 
 
 399 
 
 trated 
 
 land« 
 
 ock of 
 
 Anda- 
 le met 
 (untry, 
 led in 
 rock of 
 ^ of his 
 
 spreads 
 ling he 
 demand 
 y in his 
 eink and 
 1 passed 
 message 
 ral with 
 \ to Bur- 
 
 d of fire 
 e, " that 
 I retxirn 
 ave men 
 d I trust 
 
 to use my lance upon no other foe until it has shed his blood 
 upon the native soil he has betrayed." So saying, he left the 
 camp, nor could the Moslem chieftains help admiring the 
 honest indignation of this patriot knight, while they secretly 
 despised his renegade adversary. 
 
 The ancient Moorish chroniclers relate many awful portents, 
 and strange and mysterious visions, which appeared to the 
 commanders of either army during this anxious night. 
 Certainly it was a night of fearful suspense, and Moslem and 
 Christian looked forward with doubt to the fortune of the 
 coming day. The Spanish sentinel walked his pensive round, 
 listening occasionally to the vague sounds from the distant 
 rock of Calpe, and eyeing it as the mariner eyes the thunder- 
 cloud, pregnant with terror and destruction. The Arabs, too, 
 from their lofty cliflPs beheld the numerous camp-fires of the 
 Christians gradually lighted up, and saw that they were a 
 powerful host ; at the same time the night breeze brought to 
 their ears the sullen roar of the sea which separated them from 
 Africa. When they considered their perilous situation — an 
 army on one side, with a whole nation aroused to reinforce it, 
 and on the other an impassable sea, the spirits of many of 
 the warriors were cast down, and they repented the day when 
 they had ventured into this hostile land. 
 
 Tarie marked their despondency, but said nothing. Scarce 
 had the first streak of morning light trembled along the sea, 
 however, when he summoned his principal warrriors to his 
 tent. " Be of good cheer," said he, " Allah is with us, and 
 has sent his prophet to give assurance of his aid. Scarce 
 had I retired to my tent last night, when a man of a majestic 
 and venerable presence stood before me. He was taller by 
 a palm than the ordinary race of men : his flowing beard was 
 of a golden hue, and his eyes were so bright that they seemed 
 to send forth flashes of fire. I have heard the Kmir Bahamet, 
 and other ancient men, describe the prophet, whom they had 
 «een many times while on earth, and such was his form and 
 lineament. ' Fear nothing, O Taric, from the morrow,' said 
 he, ' I will be with thee in the fight. Strike boldly, then, 
 and conquer. Those of thy followers who survive the battle 
 will have this land for an inheritance; for those who fall, a 
 mansion in paradise is prepared, and immortal houris await 
 their oominB.' He spake and vanished; I heard a strain of 
 celestial melody, and my tent was filled with the odours of 
 
 11 
 
 HI 
 
 4 
 
400 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 Arabia the happy." " Such," say the Spanish chroniclera, 
 " was another of the arts by which this arch son of Ishmael 
 sought to animate the hearts of his followers;" and the pre- 
 tended vision had been recorded by the Arabian writers as a 
 veritable occurrence. Marvellous, indeed, was the effect 
 produced by it upon the infidel soldiery, who now cried out 
 with eagerness to be led against the foe. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The grey summits of the rock of Calpe brightened with 
 the first rays of morning, as the Christian army issued forth 
 from its encampment. The Prince Ataulpho rode from 
 squadron to squadron, animating his soldiers for the battle. 
 " Never should we sheathe our swords," said he, " while 
 these infidels have a footing in the land. They are pent up 
 within yon rocky mountain, we must assail them in their 
 rugged hole. We have a long day before ns: let not the 
 setting sun shine upon one of their host who is not a fugitive, 
 a captive, or a corpse." 
 
 The words of the prince were received with shouts, and 
 the army moved towards the promontory. As they advanced, 
 they heard the clash of c}Tnbals and the bray of trumpets, 
 and the rocky bosom of the mountain glittered with helms 
 and spears and scimitars; for the Arabs, inspired with fresh 
 confidence by the words of Taric, were sallying forth, with 
 flaunting banners, to the combat. 
 
 The gaunt Arab chieftain stood upon a rock as his troops 
 marched by ; his buckler was at his back, and he brandished 
 in his hand a double-pointed spear. Calling upon the several 
 leaders by their names, he exhorted them to direct their 
 attacks against the Christian captains, and especially against 
 Ataulpho, ''for the chiefs being slain," said he, ''their 
 followers will vanish from before us like the morning mist." 
 
 The Gothic nobles were easily to be distinguished by the 
 splendour of their arms ; but the prince Ataulpho was ccm- 
 spicuous above all the rest for the youthful grace and majesty 
 of his appearance, and the bravery of his array. He was 
 moimted on a superb Andalusian charger, richly caparisoned 
 with crimson velvet, embroidered wiUi gold. His surcoet 
 was of like colour and adornment, and the plumes that waved 
 above his burnished helmet, were of the purest white. Ten 
 
 When" 
 
LEGEND OF DON BODEKICK. 
 
 401 
 
 iclera, 
 amael 
 e pre- 
 s as a 
 eflfect 
 ed out 
 
 ;d with 
 ;d forth 
 e from 
 battle. 
 " while 
 pent up 
 in their 
 not the 
 fugitive, 
 
 3ut8, and 
 dvanced, 
 rumpets, 
 th helms 
 rith fresh 
 rth, with 
 
 is troops 
 •andished 
 le several 
 •ect their 
 ^y against 
 ^ " their 
 
 mist." 
 fed by the 
 was con- 
 Id majesty 
 He was 
 iparisoned 
 ^s gurcoat 
 it waved 
 ite. Ten 
 
 mounted pages, magnificently attired, followed him to the 
 field, but their duty was not so much to fight as to attend 
 upon their lord, and to furnish him with steed or weapon. 
 
 The Christian troops, though iiregular and undisciplined, 
 were full of native courage ; for the old warrior spirit of their 
 Gothic sires still glowed in their bosoms. There were two 
 battalions of infantry, but Ataulpho stationed them in the 
 rear; " for God forbid," said he, "that foot soldiers should 
 have the place of honour in the battle, when I have so many 
 valiant cavaliers." As the armies drew nigh to each other, 
 however, it was discovered that the advance of the Arabs 
 was composed of infantiy. Upon this the cavaliers checked 
 their steeds, and requested that the foot soldiery might advance 
 and disperse this losel crew, holding it beneath tueir dignity 
 to contend with pedestriiin foes. The prince, however, com- 
 manded them to charge ; upon which, putting spurs to their 
 steeds, they rushed upon the foe. 
 
 The Arabs stood the shock manfully, receiving the horses 
 upon the points of their lances ; many of the riders were shot 
 down with bolts from cross-bows, or stabbed with the poinards 
 of the Moslems. The cavaliers succeeded, however, in break- 
 ing into the midst of the battalion and throwing it into con- 
 fusion, cutting dov^ some with their swords, transpiercing 
 others with their spears, anu trampling many under the hoofe 
 of their horses. At this moment, they were attacked by a 
 band of Spanish horsemen, the recreant partisans of Count 
 Jiilian, Their assault bore hard upon their countrymen, who 
 were disordered by the contest with the foot soldiers, and 
 many a loyal Christian knight fell beneath the sword of an 
 imnatural foe. 
 
 The foremost among these recreant warriors waa the rcne- 
 gado cavalier whom Theodomir had challenged in the tent of 
 Taric. He dealt his blows about him with a powerful arm 
 and with malignant fury, for nothing is more deadly than 
 the hatred of an apostate. In the midst of his career he was 
 espied by the hardy Theodomir, who came spurring to the 
 encounter: " Traitor," cried he, " I have kept my vow. This 
 lance has been held sacred from all other foes to make a 
 passage for thy perjured soul." The renegade had been 
 renowned for prowess before he became a traitor to his 
 country, but guilt will sap the courage of the stoutest heart. 
 When he beheld Theodomir rushing upon him, he would 
 
 : i 
 
 ■f 
 
402 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 ; f 
 
 It 
 
 have turned and fled: pride alone withheld him; and, though 
 an admirable master of defence, he lost all skill to ward the 
 attack of his adversary. At the first assault the lance of 
 Theodomir pierced him through and through : he fell to the 
 earth, gnashed his teeth as he rolled in the dust, but yielded 
 his breath without uttering a word. 
 
 'Vhe battle now became general, and lasted throughout the 
 morning with varying success. The stratagem of Taric, 
 however began to produce its effect. The Cluristian leaders 
 and most conspicuous cavaliers were singled out and severally 
 assailed by overpowering numbers. They fought desperately, 
 and performed miracles of prowess, but fell, one by one, 
 beneath a thousand wounds. Still the battle lingered on 
 throughout a great part of the day, and as the declining sun 
 shone through the clouds of dust, it seemed as if the con- 
 flicting hosts were wrapped in smoke and fire. 
 
 The Prince Ataulpho saw that the fortune of the battle was 
 against him. He rode about the field calling out the names 
 of the bravest of his knights, but few answered to his call, 
 the rest lay mangled on the field. With this handful of war- 
 riors he endeavoured to retrieve the day, when he was assailed 
 by Tenderos, a partisan of Count Julian, at the head of a body 
 of recreant Christians. At sight of this new adversary, fire 
 flashed from the eyes of the prince, for Tenderos had been 
 brought up in his father's palace. " Well dost thou, traitor ! " 
 cried he, " to attack the son of thy lord, who gave thee bread ; 
 thou, who hast betrayed thy country and thy God !" 
 
 So saying, he seized a lance from one of his pages, and 
 charged furiously upon the apostate ; but Tenderos met him 
 in mid career, and the lance of the prince was shivered upon 
 his shield. Ataulpho then grasped his mace, which hung at 
 his saddle bow, and a doubtful fight ensued. Tenderos was 
 powerful of frame and superior in the use of his weapons, but 
 the curse of treason seemed to paralyse his arm. He wounded 
 Ataulpho slightly between the greaves of his armour but the 
 prince dealt a blow with his mace that crushed through helm 
 and skull, and reached the brains ; and Tenderos fell dead to 
 the earth, his armour rattling as he fell. 
 
 At the same moment a javelin, hurled by an Arab, trans- 
 pierced the horse of Ataulpho, which sunk beneath him. The 
 prince seized the reins of the steed of Tenderos, but the faith- 
 ful animal, as though he knew him to be the foe of his late 
 
 lord, 
 princ 
 foes, 
 in fro 
 confli( 
 passin 
 his fal 
 him, a 
 he cou 
 tian en 
 prey b 
 earth, 
 blood, 
 the hor 
 of Atau 
 of battl 
 among 
 wounds 
 beside i 
 ported 
 with his 
 gradual! 
 battle } ' 
 dier, " b 
 Thep 
 ordered 
 They suj 
 for a sh 
 beckonec 
 Continuij 
 soldier; 
 hour of ( 
 upon the 
 take a foi 
 then hav< 
 wp the gh 
 A nura 
 slake theii 
 in triump 
 tian leadc 
 should be 
 surcoat of 
 
LEGEND OF DON BODERICK. 
 
 408 
 
 though 
 ird titie 
 ince of 
 I to the 
 yielded 
 
 lout the 
 [ Taric, 
 , leaders 
 leverally 
 jerately, 
 by one, 
 ;ered on 
 ning sun 
 the cou- 
 
 lattle was 
 le names 
 his call, 
 ol of war- 
 is assailed 
 of a body 
 rsary» fii^e 
 had been 
 , traitor!" 
 tee bread ; 
 
 Lrab, trans- 
 [him. The 
 It the fiaith- 
 lof his late 
 
 lord, reared, and plunj^ed, and refused to let him mount. The 
 prince, however, used liim as a shield to ward off the press of 
 foes, while, with his sword, he defended himself against those 
 in front of him. Tarie ben Zeyad arrived at the scene of 
 confliet, and ])aused for a moment in admiration of the sur- 
 passing prowess of the ))rince ; recollecting, however, that 
 his fall would be a death blow to his army, he spurred upon 
 him, and wounded him severely with his scimitar. Before 
 he could repeat his blow, Theodomir led up a body of Chris- 
 tian cavaliers to the rescue, and Taric was parted from his 
 prey by the tumult of the fight. The prince sank to the 
 earth, covered with wounds, and e.xhausted by the loss of 
 blood. A faithful page drew him from imder the hoofs of 
 the horses, and, aided by a veteran soldier, an ancient vassal 
 of Ataulpho, conveyed him to a short distance from the field 
 of battle, by the side of a small stream that gushed out from 
 among rocks. They stanched the. blood that flowed from his 
 wounds, and washed the dust from his face, and laid him 
 beside the fountain. The page sat at his head, and sup- 
 ported it on his knees, and the vetenm stood at his feet 
 with his brow bent and his eyes full of sorrow. The prince 
 gradually revived, and opened his eyes. " How fares the 
 battle ? " said he. " The struggle is hard," replied the sol- 
 dier, " but the day may yet be ours." 
 
 The prince felt that the hour of his death was at hand, and 
 ordered that they should aid him to rise upon his knees. 
 They supported him between them, and he prayed fervently 
 for a short time, when, finding his strength declining, he 
 beckoned the veteran to sit down beside him on the rock. 
 Continuing to kneel, he confessed himself to that ancient 
 soldier ; having no priest or friar to perform that office in this 
 hour of extremity. When he had so done, he sunk again 
 upon the earth, and pressed it with his lips, as if he would 
 take a fond farewell of his beloved country. The page would 
 then have raised his head, but found that his lord had yielded 
 up the ghost. 
 
 A number of Arab warriors, who came to the fountain to 
 slake their thirst, cut off the head of the prince, and bore it 
 in triumph to Taric, crying, " Behold the head of the Chris- 
 tian leader!" Taric immediately ordered that the head 
 should be put upon the end of a lance, together with the 
 surcoat of the prince, and borne about the field of battle, 
 
 2 £ 
 
 1 I 
 
 ; i^ 
 
 V 
 
404 
 
 THE COKQUE8T OF SPAIN. 
 
 with the sound of trumpets, atabals, and cymbals. When 
 the Christians beheld the surcoat, and knew the features 
 of the prince, they were struck with horror, and heart 
 and hand failed them. Thoodomir endeavoured in vain to 
 rally them ; they threw by their weapons and fled ; and 
 they continued to fly, and the enemy to pursue and slay 
 them, until the darkness of the night. The Moslems then 
 returned, and plundered the Christian camp, where they found 
 abundant spoil. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The scattered fugitives of the Christian army spread terror 
 throughout the land. The inhabitants of the towns and 
 villages gathered around them as they applied at their gates 
 for food ; or lay themselves down, faint and wounded, beside 
 the public foimtains. When they related the tale of their 
 defeat, old men shook their heads and groaned, and the 
 women uttered cries and lamentations. So strange and 
 unlooked-for a calamity filled them with consternation and 
 despair ; for it was long since the alarm of war had sounded 
 in their land : and this was a warfare that carried chains and 
 slavery, and all kinds of horrors, in its train. 
 
 Don Roderick wns seated with his beauteous queen, Exi- 
 lona, in the royal palace which crowned the rocky summit of 
 Toledo, when the bearer of ill-tidings came galloping over 
 the bridge of the Tagus. " What tidings from the army ?" 
 demanded the king, as the panting messenger Mas brought I 
 into his presence. "Tidings of great woe!" exclaimed the 
 soldier. "The prince has fallen in battle. I saw his head] 
 and siu'coat upon a Moorish lance ; and the army was over- 
 thrown and fled !" 
 
 At hearing these words, Roderick covered his face with! 
 his hands, and for some time sat in silence ; and all hisi 
 courtiers stood mute and aghast, and no one dared to speakl 
 a word. In that awful space of time passed before hisT 
 thoughts all his errors and his crimes, and the evil thaa 
 had been predicted in the necromantic tower. His m\m 
 was filled with horror and confusion, for the hour of his desj 
 truction seemed at hand : but he subdued his agitation bj| 
 his strong and haughty spirit ; and, when he uncovered 
 &ce, no one could read on his brow the trouble and agosj 
 
 i 
 
LEGEKD OF DON BODERICK. 
 
 405 
 
 Wbcn 
 
 features 
 nd lieart 
 ,1 vain to 
 
 aed; and 
 and slay 
 dems then 
 they found 
 
 arcad terror 
 
 towns and 
 ; their gates 
 nded, beside 
 ta\e of their 
 led, and the 
 strange and 
 ternntion and 
 
 bad sounded 
 ed chains and 
 
 IS queen, E»- , 
 ^v sumnut oi 
 Uloping over | 
 IS the army? , 
 jr was brought 
 exclaimed «ie 
 
 ■- saw his head 
 ly was ovei- 
 
 bis face witJ 
 , ., and all H 
 
 aared to speak] 
 Led before H 
 ^ the evil thai 
 ver. His.taM 
 kour of his des] 
 Cis agitation n 
 L uncovered m 
 luble and ago»1 
 
 of his heart. Still, every hour brought fresh tidinp^s of dis- 
 aster. Messenger after messenger came 8purrin<r into the 
 city, distracting it with new alarms. The infidels. thi>y said, 
 were stren^hening themselves in the land ; host after host 
 were pounng in from Africa: the sea coast of Andalusia 
 glittered with spears and scimitars. Bands of turbancd 
 horsemen had overrun the plains of Sidonia, even to the 
 banks of the Guadiana. Fields were laid waste, towns and 
 cities plundered, the inhabitants carried into captivity, and 
 the whole countiy lay in smoking desolation. 
 
 Roderick heard all these tidings with an undaunted aspect; 
 nor did he ever again betray sign of consternation : but the 
 anxiety of his soul was evident in his warlike preparations. 
 He issued orders that every noble and prelate of his kingdom 
 should put himself at the head of his retainers, and take the 
 field ; and that every man capable of bearing arms should 
 hasten to his standard, bringing whatever horse, and mule, 
 and weapon he possessed: and he appointed the plain of 
 Cordova for the place where the amy was to assemble. 
 Throwing by, then, all the trappings of his late slothful and 
 voluptuous life, and arming himself for warlike action, he 
 departed from Toledo at the head of his guard, composed of 
 the flower of the youthful nobility. His queen, Kxilona, 
 accompanied him ; for she craved permission to remain in 
 one of the cities of Andalusia, that she might be near her 
 lord in this time of peril. 
 
 Among the first who appeared to hail the arrival of the 
 king at Cordova, was the Bishop Oppas, the secret partisan 
 of the traitor Julian. He brought with him his two nephews, 
 Evan and Siseburto, the sons of the late king Witiza ; and a 
 great hosts of vassals and retainers, all well armed and ap- 
 pointed ; for they had been furnished, by Count Julian, with 
 a part of the arms sent by the king to Africa. The bishop 
 was smooth of tongue, and profound in his hypocrisy : his 
 pretended zeal and devotion, and the horror with which he 
 spoke of the treachery of his kinsman, imposed upon the 
 credulous spirit of the king, and he was readily admitted 
 into his most secret council. 
 
 The alarm of the infidel invasion had spread throughout 
 the land, and roused the Gothic valour of the inhabitants. 
 On receiving the orders of Roderick, ever}- town and hamlet, 
 every mountain and valley, had sent forth its fighting mep, 
 
 2 E 2 
 
 
 \ r 
 
 H 
 
 ! > 
 
406 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 and the whole cotmtry was on the march towards Andalusia. 
 In a little while there were gathered together, on the plain of 
 Cordova, near fifty thousand horsemen, and a countless host 
 of foot-soldiers. ITie Gothic nobles appeared in burnished 
 armoiu", curiously inlaid and adorned, with chains and jewels 
 of gold, and ornaments of precious stones, and silken scarfs, 
 and surcoats of brocade, or velvet richly embroidered; be- 
 traying the luxury and ostentation into which they had 
 declined from the iron hardihood of their warlike sires. As 
 to the commoi: people, some had lances and shields and swords 
 and crossbows, but the greater part were unarmed, or pro- 
 vided merely with slings, and clubs studded with nails, and 
 with the iron implements of husbandry; and many had made 
 shields for themselves from the doors and windows of their 
 habitations. They were a prodigious host, and appeared, say 
 the Arabian chroniclers, like an agitated sea; but, though 
 brave in spirit, they possessed no knowledge of warlike art, 
 and were ineffectual through lack of arms and discipline. 
 
 Several of the most ancient and experienced cavaliers be- 
 holding the state of the army, advised Don Roderick to await 
 the airival of more regular troops, which were stationed in 
 Iberia, Cantabria, and Gallia Gothica ; but this counsel was 
 strenuously opposed by the Bishop Oppas ; who urged the 
 king to march immediately against the infidels. "As yet," 
 sjiid he, " their number is but limited ; but every day new 
 hosts arrive, like flocks of locusts, from Africa. ITiey will 
 augment faster than we ; they are living, too, at our expense, 
 and, while we pause, both armies are consuming the substance 
 of the land." 
 
 King Roderick listened to the crafty counsel of the bishop, 
 and determined to advance without delay. He mounted hia 
 war horse, Orelia, and rode among his troops assembled on 
 that spacious plain, and wherever he appeared, he was re- 
 ceived with acclamations ; for nothing so arouse;^ the spirit of 
 the soldier as to behold his sovereign in arms. He addressed 
 them in words calculated to touch their hearts and animate 
 their courage. " The Saracens," said he, " are ravaging our 
 land, and their object is our conquest. Shoidd they prevail, 
 your very existence as a nation is at an end. They will 
 overturn your altars ; trample on the cross ; lay waste your 
 cities ; carry off your wives and daughters, and doom your- 
 selves and sons to hard and cruel slavery. No safety remains 
 
LEGEND OF DON RODERICIT. 
 
 407 
 
 idalusia. 
 plain of 
 [es8 host 
 urnislied 
 id jewels 
 ;n scarfs, 
 >red; be- 
 they had 
 lircs. As 
 nd swords 
 id, or pro- 
 nails, and 
 bad made 
 rs of their 
 jeared, say 
 iit, though 
 .varlike art, 
 icipline. 
 avaliers he- 
 ick to await 
 jtationed in 
 jounsel was 
 ) urged the 
 
 "As yet," 
 .ry day new 
 
 ^ITiey will 
 ijur expense, 
 5ic substance 
 
 for you but in the prowess of your arras. For my own part, 
 as I am yovir king, so will I be your leader, and will bi' the 
 foremost to encounter every toil and danger." 
 
 The soldiery answered their monarch with loud acclama- 
 tions, and solemnly pledged themselves to light to the last 
 gasp in defence of their country and their faith. The king 
 fiien arranged the order of their march : all those who were 
 armed with cuirasses and coats of mail were placed in tho 
 front and rear ; the centre of the army was composed of a 
 promiscuous throng, without body armour, and but scantily 
 provided with weapons. 
 
 When they were about to march, the king called to him a 
 noble cavalier named Ramiro, and delivering him the royal 
 standard, charged him to guard it well for the honour of 
 Spain ; scarcely, however, had the good knight received it in 
 his hand, when he fell dead from his horse, and the stiitf of 
 the standard was broken in twain. Many ancient courtiers 
 who were present looked upon this as an evil omen, and 
 oounselled the king not to set forward on his march that day ; 
 but, disregarding all auguries and portents, he ordered the 
 royal banner to be put upon a lance and gave it in charge of 
 another standard bearer : then commanding the trumpets 
 to be sounded, he departed at the head of his host to seek 
 the enemy. 
 
 The field where this great army assembled was called, from 
 the solemn pledge given by the nobles and the soldiery. El 
 campo de la verdud ; or, The field of truth ; a name, says the 
 sage chronicler Abul Cassim, which it bears even to the 
 present day.* 
 
 f H 
 
 
 The 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 hopes of Andalusia revived, as this mighty host 
 
 stretched in lengthened lines along its fertile plains; from 
 morn until night it continued to pour along, with sound of 
 drum and trumpet ; it was led on by the proudest nobles and 
 bravest cavaliers of the land, and, had it possessed arms 
 and discipline, might have undertaken the conquest of the 
 world. 
 
 After a few days' march, Don Roderick arrived in sight of 
 the Moslem army, encamped on the banks of the Guudalcte, 
 * \a Perdida de Eapafla, cap. 9. Bleda, lib. 2. c. 8. 
 
 i 
 
408 
 
 THE C017QUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 where that beautiful stream* winds through the fertile land of 
 Xeres. The infidel host was far inferior in number to the 
 Christians ; but then it was composed of hardy and dexterous 
 troops, seasoned to war and admirably armed. The camp 
 shone gloriously in the setting sun, and resounded with thA 
 dash of cymbal, the note of the trumpet, and the neighing 
 of fiery Arabian steeds. There were swarthy troops from 
 every nation of the African coast, together with legions from 
 Syria and Egypt, while the light Bedouins were careering 
 about the adjacent plain. What grieved and incensed the 
 spirits of the Christian warriors, however, was to behold, a 
 little apart from the Moslem host, an encampment of Spanish 
 cavaliers, with the banner of Count Julian waving above their 
 tents. They were ten thousand in number, valiant and hardy 
 men, the most experienced of Spanish soldiery, most of them 
 having served in the African wars ; they were well armed 
 and appointed also, with the weapons of which the count had 
 beguiled his sovereign ; and it was a grievous sight to behold 
 such good soldiers arrayed against their country and their 
 fkith. 
 
 The Christians pitched their tents about the hour of 
 vespers, at a short league distant from the enemy, and re- 
 mained gazing with anxiety and awe upon this barbaric host 
 that had caused such terror and desolation in the land : for 
 the first sight of a hostile encampment in a country disused 
 to war is terrible to the newly enlisted soldier. A marvellous 
 occurrence is recorded by the Arabian chroniclers as having 
 taken place in the Christian camp; but discreet Spanish 
 writers relate it with much modification, and consider it a 
 stratagem of the wily Bishop Oppos, to sound the loyally of 
 the Christian cavoliers. 
 
 As several leaders of the army were seated with the bii^hop 
 in his tent, conversing on the dubious fortunes of the ap- 
 proaching contest, an ancient pilgrim appean>d at the en- 
 trance, lie was bowed down with yeais, his snowy beard 
 descended to his girdle, and he stipported his tottering steps 
 with a palmers statf. The cavaliers rose and received him 
 with great reverence as he advanced within the tent. Hold- 
 ing up his withered liand, '* Woe, woe to Spain ! ' exclaimed 
 h«, '' for the vial of the wrath of heaven is about to be 
 
 * This nsin« wm given to it mibfleqnently by the Arabs. It tigalAtt 
 th« River of Death. Vi<le Podnua, UUk Onnad. p. S. e. 1. 
 
 i( 1 
 
LEGEND OP DON BODERICK. 
 
 40» 
 
 poured out. Listen, warriors, and take warning. Four 
 months since, having jierformed my pilgrimage to the se- 
 pixlchre of our Lord in Palestine, I was on my return towards 
 my native land. Wearied and wayworn, I lay down one 
 night to sleep beneath a palm tree, by the side of a i'uuntaiu, 
 when I wa» awakened by a voice saying unto me in soft 
 accents, ' Son of sorrow, why sleepest thou ?' I opened my 
 eyes and beheld one of a fair and beauteous countenance, in 
 shining apparel and with glorious wings, standing by the 
 fountain ; and I said, ' Who art thou who callest upon me in 
 this deep hoxu" of the night ?' " 
 
 " ' Fear not,' replied the stranger, ' I am an angel from 
 heaven, sent to reveal unto thee the fate of thy country. 
 Behold the sins of Koderick have come up before God, and 
 his anger is kindled against him, and he has given him up 
 to be invaded and destroyed. Hasten then to Spsiin, and 
 seek the camp of thy countrymen. Warn them that such 
 only shall be saved as shall abandon Koderick ; but thos^e who 
 adhere to him shall share his punishment, and shall full under 
 the sword of the invader.' " 
 
 The pilgrim ceased, and passed forth from the tent ; certain 
 of the cavaliers followed him to detain him, that they might 
 converse further with him about these matters, but he was 
 nowhere to be found. The sentinel before the tent said, " I 
 saw no one come forth, but it was as if a blast of wind passed 
 by me, and there was a rustling as of dry leaves." 
 
 The cavaliers remained looking upon each other with 
 astonishment. The Bishop Oppas sat with his eyes fixed 
 upon the ground, and shadowed by his overhanging brow. 
 At length, breaking silence, in n low and faltering voice, 
 "Doubtless," said he, 'Mhis message is fnmi Ciod ; and since 
 he has taken compassion \i\Hn\ us, and given us notice of his 
 impending judgment, it bi'hoves us to hold gnive council, 
 and detirniine how best we may accomplish his will, and avert 
 his tiiopleasure." 
 
 The chiefs still remained silent ns men confounded. Among 
 them was a veteran noble named Pelistes. II(« hod dis- 
 tinguished himsvlf in the African wars, fighting nidc by side 
 wi& Count Julian, but the latter hud never dan'd to tamper 
 with his faith, for he knew his stern integrity. Prlistet 
 had brought with him to the camp his only Hon. who had 
 Beyer drawn a sword exct>pt in tourney. When the young 
 
 i' 
 
 I 
 
410 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIX. 
 
 man saw that the veterans held their peace, the blood mantled 
 in his eheek, and, overcoming his modesty, he broke forth 
 with a generous warmth : " I know not, cavaliers," said he, 
 " what is passing in your minds, but I believe this pilgrim to 
 be an envoy from the devil ; for none else could ha% e given 
 such dastard and perfidious counsel. For my own part, I 
 stand ready to defend ray king, my country, and my faith. 
 I know no higher duty than this, and if God thinks to strike 
 me dead in the performance of it, his sovereign vnU. be 
 done!' 
 
 When the young man had risen to speak, his father had 
 fixed his eyes upon him with a grave and stern demeanoui*, 
 leaning upon a two-handed sword. As soon as the youth 
 had finished, Pelistes embraced him with a father's fondness. 
 " ITieu hast sj)oken well, my son," said he ; " if I held my 
 peace at the counsel of this losel pilgrim, it was but to hear 
 thy opinion, and to learn whether thou wert >vorthy of thy 
 lineage and of the training I had given thee. Hadst thou 
 counselled otherwise than thou hast done, hadst thou shown 
 thyself craven and disloval, so help me God, I would have 
 struck off thy head witn this weapon which I hold in my 
 hand. But tnou hnst coimselled like a loyal and a Christian 
 knight, and I thank God for having given mc a son worthy 
 to perpetuate the honours of my line. As to this pilg~im, be 
 he saint or be he devil, I care not ; this much I promise, 
 that if I am to die in defence of my country and my king, 
 my life shall be a costly purchase to the foe. Let each man 
 make the same resolve, and I trust wo shall yet prove the pilgrim 
 a lying prophet." The words of Pelistes roused the spirits 
 of many of the cavaliers ; others, however, remained full of 
 anxious forboding, and when this fearful prophecy was ru- 
 moured about tlie camp, as it j)resently was by the emissaries 
 of tlie bishop, it spread awe and dismay among the soldiery. 
 
 CIIAPTEtt XV. 
 
 On the following day, the two armies remained regarding 
 each other with wary but menacing aspect. About noontide, 
 King lloderiek sent forth a chosen force of five hundred 
 horse and two hundred foot, the best armed of his host, to 
 skirmish with the enemy, that, by gaining some partial ad- 
 vantage, they might raise the spirits of the army, lliey were 
 
 
MM 
 
 LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 
 
 411 
 
 laniled 
 • forth 
 lid he, 
 rrim to 
 « given 
 part, I 
 J faith. 
 I strike 
 will be 
 
 ler 
 
 had 
 eanoui", 
 > youth 
 mdness. 
 leld my 
 to hear 
 r of thy 
 1st thou 
 u shown 
 lid have 
 1 in my 
 Christian 
 worthy 
 g-im, be 
 promise, 
 [ly king, 
 ch man 
 pilgrim 
 spirits 
 full of 
 was ru- 
 missaries 
 oldiery. 
 
 egarding 
 oontide, 
 
 hundred 
 host, to 
 
 rtial ad- 
 
 hey were 
 
 led on by Theodomir, the same Gothic noble who had sig- 
 nalised himself by first opposing the invasion of the Moslems. 
 
 The Christian squadrons paraded with flying pennons in 
 the valley which lay between the armies. The Arabs were 
 not slow in answering their defiance. A large body of horvsc- 
 men sallied forth to the encounter, together with three 
 hundred of the followers of Count Julian. There was hot 
 skirmishing a))out the field, and on the banks of the river ; 
 many gallant feats were displayed on either side, and nmny 
 valiant warriors were slain. As the night closed in, the 
 trumpets from either camp sumn.oned the troops to retire 
 from the combat. In this day's action the Christians suffered 
 greatly in the loss of their distinguished cavaliers ; for it is 
 the noblest spirits who venture most, and lay themselves open 
 to danger; and the Moslem soldiers had instnictions to single 
 out the leaders of the adverse host. All this is said to have 
 been devised by the perfidious Bishop Oppns, who had secret 
 oommunications with the enemy, while he influenced the 
 councils of the king ; and who trusted that by this skirmish- 
 ing warfare the power of the Christian troops would be cut 
 off, and the rest disheartened. 
 
 On the following morning, a larger force was ordered out 
 to skirmish, and such of the soldiery as were unarmed, were 
 commanded to stand ready to seize the horses and strip 
 off the armour of the killed and wounded. Among the 
 most illustrious of the wamors who fought that day M-as 
 Pelistes, the Gothic noble who had ho sternly checked the 
 tongue of the Bishop Oppas. lie led to the field a large 
 body of his own vassals and retainers, and of cavaliers trained 
 up m his house, who had followed him to the wars in Africa, 
 and who looked up to him more as a father than a chieftain. 
 Beside him was his only son, who now for the first time was 
 fleshing his sword in battle. The conflict that day was more 
 general and bloody than the day preceding ; the slaughter of 
 the Christian warriors was inmiense, from their lack of 
 defensive armour ; and as nothing could prevent the flower 
 of the Gothic chivalry from spurring to the combat, the field 
 was strewed with the bodies of the youthful nobles. Nono 
 suffered more, however, than the warriors of Pelistes. Their 
 leader himself was Iwld and hard)-, and prone to expose him- 
 self to danger ; but years and experience had moderated his 
 early fire ; uis son, however, was eager to distinguish himself 
 
 > 
 
412 
 
 THE CONQUEST OP SPAIW. 
 
 I 
 
 in this, his first essay, and rushed with impetuous ardour into 
 the hottest of the battle. In vain his father called u> caution 
 him ; he was ever in the advance, and seemed unconscious 
 of the perils that siurounded him. The cavaliers and vassals 
 of his father followed him with devoted zeal, and many of 
 them paid for their loyalty with their lives. When the 
 trumpet sounded in the evening for retreat, the troops of 
 Pelistes were the last to reach the camp. They came slowly 
 and mournfully, and much decreased in number. Their 
 veteran commander was seated on his war-horse, but the 
 bleed trickled from the greaves of his armour. His valiant 
 SOB was borne on the shields of his vassals ; when they laid 
 him on the earth near to where the king was standing, they 
 found that the heroic youth had expired of his wounds. The 
 cavaliers surrounded the body and gave utterance to their 
 grief; but the father restrained his agony, and looked on 
 with the stem resignation of a soldier. 
 
 Don Roderick surveyed the field of battle with a rueful eye, 
 for it was covered M'ith the mangled bodies of his most illu8> 
 trious wan'iors ; he saw, too, with anxiety, that the common 
 people, unused to war, and unsustained by discipline, were 
 narassed by incessimt toils and dangers, and were cooling in 
 their zeal and courage. 
 
 The crafty Bishop Oppas marked the internal trouble of the 
 king, and thought a favourable moment had arrive<l to sway 
 him to his purpose. He called to his mind the various por- 
 tents and pro])liecie8 which had forerun their present danger. 
 " Let not my lord the king,'* said he, " make light of these 
 mysterious revelations, which appear to be so disastrously fal' 
 filling. The hand of Heaven appears to be against us. De- 
 struction is impending over our heads. Our troops are rude 
 and unskilful, but slightly armed, and much cast down in 
 spirit. Better is it that we should make a treaty with the 
 enemy, and, by granting port of his demands, prevent the 
 utter ruin of our country. If such counsel be acceptable to 
 my lonl the king. I stand ready to depart upon an embassy to 
 the Moslem camp." 
 
 Upon hearing these words, Pelistes, who had stood in 
 mournful silence, regarding the dead body of his son, bunt 
 forth with honest indignation. ** By this good sword," said 
 he, '* the man who yields surh dastnra counsel deserves death 
 from the hand of his countrymen rather than from the foe ; 
 
 and, 
 salva 
 l-h 
 lord,' 
 wield 
 menai 
 ingtc 
 
 buked 
 
 the CO 
 
 he, " i 
 
 to its s 
 
 He 
 
 mined 
 
 Ahera 
 
 test, ai 
 
 chieftai 
 
 and ns! 
 
 which i 
 
 to prep 
 
 contest 
 
 Taki 
 Christia 
 &nd app 
 king to 
 increase 
 turned 
 represen 
 and lost 
 the cour 
 thy king 
 treason, 
 while tl 
 unto the 
 with gui 
 Don J 
 ftar cami 
 fi^e: foi 
 
LEGEND OF DON BODEBICK. 
 
 41S 
 
 and, were it not for the presence of the king, may I forfeit 
 salvation if I would not strike him dead upon the 8{K)t." 
 
 ITie bishop turned an eye of venom upon Pelistes. " My 
 lord," said he, " I, too, bear a weapon, and know how to 
 wield it. Were the king not present, you would not dare to 
 menace, nor shoidd you advance one step without my hasten- 
 ingto meet you." 
 
 The king interposed between the jarring nobles, and re- 
 buked the impetuosity ofPelistes, but at the same time rejected 
 the counsel of the bishop. " The event of this conflict," said 
 he, " is in the hand of God ; but never shall my sword return 
 to its scabbard while an infidel invader remains within the land.'* 
 
 He then held a council with his captains, and it was deter- 
 mined to ofl'er the enemy general battle on the following day. 
 A herald was despatched defying Tarlc beu Zcyad to the con- 
 test, and the defiance was gladly accepted by the Moslem 
 chieftain.* Don Roderick then formed the plan of action, 
 and assigned to each commander his several station, after 
 which he dismissed his officers, and each one sought his tent, 
 to prepare by diligence or repose for the next day's eventful 
 contest. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Tauic ben Zetad had been surprised by the valour of the 
 Christian cavaliers in the recent battles, and at the number 
 and apparent devotion of the troops which accompanied the 
 king to the field. The confident defiance of Don Roderick 
 increased his surprise. When the herald had retired, he 
 turned an eye of suspicion on Count Julian. "ITiou hast 
 represented thy countrymen," said he, "as sunk in effeminacy 
 and lost to all generous impulse ; yet I find them fighting with 
 the courage and the strength of lions. Thou hast represented 
 thy king as detested by his subjects, and surrounded by secret 
 treason, but 1 behold his tents whitening the hills and dales, 
 while thousands are hourly flocking to his standard. Woe 
 unto thee if thou hast dealt deceitfully with us, or betrayed ut 
 with guileful words." 
 
 Don Julian retired to his tent in great trouble of mind, and 
 ftar came upon htm that the Bishop Oppas might ])lay him 
 fldse ; for it is the lot of traitors ever to distrust each other. He 
 
 * Bioda, Cronica. 
 
 'I 
 
 
 ? it 
 
 
 ii.i 
 
 I 
 
414 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 called to him the same page who had brought him the letter 
 from Florinda, revealing the story of her dishonour. 
 
 "'fhou knoM'est. my trusty page," said he, "that I have 
 reared thee in my household, and cherished thee above all thy 
 companions. If thou hast loyalty and affection for thy lord, 
 now is the time to serve him. Hie thee to the Christian 
 camp, and find thy way to the tent of the Bishop Oppas. If 
 any one ask thee who thou art, tell them thou art of the house- 
 hold of the bishop, and bearer of missives from Cordova. 
 When thou art admitted to the presence of the bishop, show 
 him this ring, and he will commime with thee in secret. ITien 
 tell him Count Julian greets him as a brother, and demands 
 how the wrongs of his daughter Florinda are to be redressed. 
 Mark well his reply, and bring it word for word. Have thy 
 lips closed, but thine eyes and ears open ; and observe evoiy 
 thing of not;e in the camp of the king. So, speed thee on thy 
 errand — away, away !" 
 
 The page hastened to saddle a Barbary steed, fleet as the 
 wind, and of a jet black colour, so as not to be easily discern- 
 ible in the night. He girded on a sword and dagger, slung an 
 Arab bow with a quiver of aiTows at his side, and a buckler 
 at his shoulder. Issuing out of the camp, he sought the banks 
 of the Guadalete, and proceeded silently along its stream, 
 which reflected the distant fires of the Christian camp. As 
 he passed by the place which had been the scene of the recent 
 conflict, he heard, from time to time, the groan of some 
 expiring warrior who had crawled among the reeds on the 
 margin of the river ; and sometimes his steed stepped cau- 
 tiously over the mangled bodies of the slain. The young 
 page was unused to the sights of war, and his heart beat 
 quick within him. He was hailed by the sentinels as he ap- 
 proached the Christian camp, and, on giving the reply taught 
 him by Count Julian, was conducted to the tent of the Bishop 
 Oppas. 
 
 The bishop had not yet retired to his couch. When he 
 beheld the ring of Count Julian, and heard the words of his 
 message, he saw that the page was one in whom he might 
 confide. " Hasten back to thy lord," said he, " and tell him 
 to have faith in me, and all shall go well. As yet, I have 
 kept my troops out of the combat. They are all fresh, well 
 armed, and well appointed. The king has confided to myself, 
 aided by the princes Evan and Siscburto, the command of a 
 
 as 
 
LEGEND OF DON BODERICK. 
 
 415 
 
 Letter 
 
 have 
 11 thy 
 • lord, 
 ristian 
 IS. If 
 
 bouse - 
 trdova. 
 , show 
 Then 
 jmands 
 iresscd. 
 ave thy 
 D every 
 I on thy 
 
 t as the 
 
 discem- 
 
 slung an 
 
 buckler 
 
 le banks 
 stream, 
 
 np. As 
 
 le recent 
 of some 
 on the 
 led cau- 
 le young 
 lart beat 
 iS he ap- 
 ly taught 
 to Bishop 
 
 len he 
 |ds of his 
 |he might 
 tell him 
 [t, I have 
 jsh, well 
 to myself, 
 lond of a 
 
 wing of the army. To-morrow, at the hour of noon, when 
 both armies are in the heat of action, we will pass over with 
 our forces to the Moslems. But I claim the compact made 
 with Taric ben Zeyad. that my nephews be placed in dominion 
 over Spain, and tributary only to the Caliph of Damasctis." 
 With this traitorous message the page departed. He led his 
 black steed by the bridle to present less mark for observation, 
 as he went stumbling along near the expiring fires of the 
 camn. On passing the last outpost, when the guards were 
 halt slumbering on their arms, he was overheard and sum- 
 moned, but leaped lightly into the saddle and put spurs to his 
 steed. An arrow whistled by his ear, and two more stuck in 
 the target which he had thrown upon his back. The clatter 
 of swift hoofs echoed behind him, but he had learnt of the 
 Arabs to fight and fly. Plucking a shaft from his quiver, and 
 turning and rising in the stirrups as his courser galloped at 
 full speed, he drew the arrow to the head and launched it at 
 his pursuer. The twang of the bow-string was followed by 
 the crash of armour, and a deep groan, as the horseman 
 tumbled to the earth. The page pursued his course without 
 further molestation, and arrived at the Moslem camp before 
 the break of day. 
 
 CHAPTER XVn. 
 
 A LIGHT had burned throughout the night in the tent of 
 the king, and anxious thoughts and dismal visions troubled 
 his repose. If he fell into a slumber, he beheld in his dreams 
 the shadowy phantoms of the necromantic tower, or the 
 injured Florinda, pale and dishevelled, imprecating tho 
 vengeance of Heaven upon his head. In the midwatches of 
 the night, when all was silent except the footstep of the 
 sentinel, pacing before his tent, the king rose from his couch, 
 and walking forth, looked thoughtfully upon tho martial scene 
 before him. The pale crescent of the moon hung over the 
 Moorish camp, and dimly lighted up the windings of the 
 Guadalete. The heart of the king was hea%'y and oppressed ; 
 but he felt only for himself, says Antonio Agapida, he thought 
 nothing of the perils impending over the thousands of devoted 
 subjects in the camp below him ; sleeping, as it were, on tlie 
 mai^in of their graves. The faint clatter of distant hoofs, as 
 if in rapid flight, reached the monarch's ear, but the horsemen 
 
416 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SFAIK. 
 
 were not to be descried. At that veiy hour, and along the 
 riiadowy banks of that river, here and there gleaming with 
 the scanty moonlight, passed the fugitive messenger of Count 
 Julian, with the plan of the next day's treason. 
 
 The day had not yet dawned, when the sleepless and im- 
 patient monarch summoned his attendants and arrayed him- 
 self for the field. He then sent for the venerable Bishop 
 Urbino, who had accompanied him to the camp, and, laying 
 aside his regal crown, he knelt with head uncovered, and 
 confessed his sins before the holy man. After this a solemn 
 mass was performed in the royal tent, and the eucharist 
 administered to the monarch. When these ceremonies were 
 concluded, he besought the archbishop to depart forthwith 
 for Cordova, there to await the issue of the battle, and to be 
 ready to bring forward re-inforcements and supplies. The 
 archbishop saddled his mule and departed just as the faint 
 blush of morning began to kindle in the east. Already the 
 camp resounded with the thrilling call of the trumpet, the 
 clank of armour, and the tramp and neigh of steeds. As the 
 archbishop passed through the camp, he looked with a com- 
 passionate heart on this vast multitude, of whom so many 
 were soon to perish. The warriors pressed to kiss his hand, 
 and many a cavalier full of youth and fire received his bene- 
 diction, who was to lie stiff and cold before the evening. 
 
 When the troops were marshalled for the field, Don 
 Roderick prepared to sally forth in the state and pomp with 
 which the Gothic kings were wont to go to battle. lie was 
 arrayed in robes of gold brocade; his sandals were em- 
 broidered with pearls and diamonds ; he had a sceptre in his 
 hand, and he wore a regal crown resplendent with inestimable 
 jewels. Thus gorgeously apparelled, he ascended a lofty 
 chariot of ivory, the axletrees of which were of silver, ana 
 the wheels and pole covered with plates of burnished gold. 
 Above his head was a canopy of cloth of gold, embossed with 
 armorial devices, and studded with precious stones.* This 
 sumptuous chariot was drawn by milk-white horses, with 
 caparisons of crimson velvet, embroidered with pearls. A 
 thousand youthful cavaliers surrounded the car; all of the 
 noblest blood and bravest spirit ; all knighted by the king's 
 own hand, and sworn to defend him to the last. 
 
 When Roderick issued forth in this resplendent state, says 
 * Eutrand. Cliron. an. Christ. 714. 
 
 1 
 
LZOEND OF BOX BODERICK. 
 
 417 
 
 the 
 
 with 
 
 Count 
 
 ng 
 
 ind im- 
 
 ;d him- 
 Bishop 
 
 I, laying 
 
 red, and 
 
 a solemn 
 
 jucharist 
 
 lies were 
 
 forthwith 
 
 md to be 
 
 ies. The 
 the fciint 
 
 ready the 
 
 unpet, the 
 
 ,. As the 
 
 ith a com- 
 
 i so many 
 
 3 his hand, 
 
 I his bene- 
 
 sning. 
 
 field, Don 
 pomp "with 
 He was 
 were em- 
 ^ptre in his 
 [inestimable 
 led a lofty 
 silver, and 
 iished gold, 
 [bossed with 
 Ines* This 
 lovses, with 
 pearls. A 
 all of the 
 »y the king's 
 
 it state, says 
 
 an Arabian writer, surrounded by his guards in gilded armour 
 
 and waving plumes, and scarfs and surcoats of a thousand 
 
 dyes, it was as if the sun were emerging in the daz/.ling 
 
 chariot of the day from amidst the glorious clouds of morning. 
 
 As the royal car rolled along in front of the squadrons, the 
 
 soldiers shouted with admiration. Don Roderick waved his 
 
 sceptre, and addressed them from his lofty throne, reminding 
 
 them of the horror and desolation which had already been 
 
 spread through the land by the invaders. He called upon 
 
 them to summon up the ancient valour of their race and 
 
 avenge the blood of their brethren. " One day of glorious 
 
 fighting," said he, " and this infidel horde will be driven 
 
 into the sea, or will perish beneath your swords. Forward 
 
 bravely to the fight ; your families are behind you — praying 
 
 for your success ; the invaders of your country are before 
 
 you ; God is above to bless his holy cause, and your king 
 
 leads you to the field." The army shouted with one accord, 
 
 " Forward, to the foe, and death be his portion who shuns the 
 
 encounter !" 
 
 The rising sun began to shine along the glistening waters 
 of the Guadalete as the Moorish army, squadron after 
 squadron, came sweeping down a gentle declivity to the 
 sound of martial music. Their turbans and robes, of various 
 dyes and fashions, gave a splendid appearance to their host ; 
 as they marched, a cloud of dust arose and partly hid them 
 from the sight, but still there would break forth flashes of 
 steel and gleams of burnished gold, like rays of vivid light- 
 ning ; whUe the soimd of drum and trumpet, and the clash of 
 Moorish cymbal, were as the woilike thunder within that 
 stormy cloud of battle. 
 
 As the armies drew near each other, the sun disappeared 
 among gathering clouds, and the gloom of the day was in- 
 creased by the columns of dust which rose from either host. 
 At length the trumpets sounded for the encounter. The 
 battle commenced with showers of arrows, stones, and javelins. 
 The Christian foot soldiers fought to disadvantage, the greater 
 part being destitute of helm or buckler, A battalion of light 
 Anibian horsemen, led by a Greek renegade named Mtigued 
 el Rumi, careered in front of the Christian line, launching 
 their darts, and then wheeling off beyond the reach of the 
 missiles hurled after them. Tiieodomir now brousjfht up his 
 seasoned troops iuto the action, seconded by the veteran 
 
UK-m"^'- 
 
 418 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 Pclistcs, and in a little while the battle became furious and 
 promiscuous. It was glorious to bcliold the old Gothic 
 valour shining forth in this hour of fearful trial. Wherever 
 the Moslems fell, the Christians rushed forward, seized upon 
 their horses, and stripped them of their armour and their 
 weapons. Tliey fought desperately and successfully, for they 
 fought for their country and their faith. Tlie battle raged 
 for several hours ; the field was strewn with slain and the 
 Moors, overcome by the multitude and fury of their foes, 
 began to falter. 
 
 When Taric beheld his troops retreating before the eneny, 
 he threw himself before them, and, rising in his stirrups, 
 "Oh, Moslems! conquerors of Africa!" cried he, "whither 
 would you fly ? The sea is behind you, the enemy before ; 
 you have no hope but in your valour and the help of God. 
 Do as I do, and the day is ours !" 
 
 With these words, he put spurs to his horse and sprang 
 among the enemy, striking to right and left, cutting down 
 and destroying, while his steed, fierce as himself, trampled 
 upon the foot soldiers, and tore them with his teeth. At 
 this moment a mighty shout arose in various parts of the 
 field; the noontide hour had arrived. The Bishop Oppas 
 with the two princes, who had hitherto kept their bands out 
 of the fight, suddenly went over to the enemy, and turned 
 their weapons upon their astonished countrymen. From 
 that moment the fortune of the day was changed, and the 
 field of battle became a scene of wild confusion and bloody 
 massacre. The Christians knew not whom to contend with, 
 or whom to trust. It seemed as if madness had seized upon 
 their friends and kinsmen, and that their worst enemies were 
 among themselves. 
 
 The courage of Don Koderick rose with his danger. Throw- 
 ing off the cumbrous robes of royalty and descending from 
 his car, he sprang upon his steed Orelia, grasped his lance 
 and buckler, and endeavoured to rally his retreating troops. 
 He was surrounded and assailed by a multitude of his own 
 traitorous subjects, but defended himself with wondrous 
 prowess. The enemy thickened around him ; his loyal band 
 of cavaliers were slain, bravely fighting in his defence ; the 
 last that was seen of the king was in the midst of the enemy, 
 dealing death at every blow. 
 
 A complete panic fell upon the Christians; they threw 
 
 aw 
 
 sue 
 
 ren 
 
 thei 
 
 sess 
 
 pres 
 
 now 
 
LEGEND or DON BODKRICK. 
 
 419 
 
 ig and 
 3othic 
 erever 
 L upon 
 1 their 
 DT they 
 B raged 
 ind the 
 lir foes, 
 
 c eneny, 
 stirrups, 
 
 'whither 
 f before ; 
 
 of God. 
 
 d sprang 
 ;mg down 
 , trampled 
 ceth. At 
 irts of the 
 ,op Oppa» 
 baiids out 
 nd turned 
 From 
 and the 
 ind bloody 
 tend with, 
 eized upon 
 emies were 
 
 er. Throw- 
 ■nding from 
 ed his lance 
 
 n. 
 
 away their arms and fled in all directions. Thoy were pur- 
 sued with dreadful slaughter, until the darkness of tlie night 
 rendered it impossible to distinguish friend from foe. Taric 
 then called otF his troops from the pursuit, and took pos- 
 session of the royal camp; and the couch M'hich had bi'en 
 pressed so uneasily on tlie preceding night by Don Roderiek, 
 now yielded sound repose to bin conqueror.* 
 
 they threw 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 On the morning after the battle, the Arab leader, Taric 
 ben Zeyad, rode over the bloody field of the Guadaletc, 
 strewed with the ruins of those splendid armies, which had 
 60 lately passed like glorious pageants along the river banks. 
 There Moor and Christian, horseman and horse, lay gashed 
 with hideous wounds; and the river, still red with blood, was 
 filled with the bodies of the slain. The gaunt Arab was as a 
 wolf roaming through the fold he had laid waste. On every 
 side his eye revelled on the ruin of the country, on the wrecks 
 of haughty Spain. There lay the flower of her youthful 
 chivalry, mangled and destroyed, and the strength of her 
 yeomanry prostrated in the dust. The Gothic noble lay 
 confounded with his vassals; the peasant with the prince; 
 all ranks and dignities were mingled in one bloody massacre. 
 
 When Taric had surveyed the field, he caused the spoils of 
 the dead and the plunder of the camp to be brought before 
 him. The booty was immense. There were massy chains, 
 and rare jewels of gold; pearls and precious stones; rich 
 silks and brocades, and all other luxurious decorations in 
 which the Gothic nobles had indulged in the latter times of 
 theii* degeneracy. A vast amount of treasure was likewise 
 found, M hich had been brought by Roderick for the expenses 
 of the war. 
 
 Taric then ordered that the bodies of the Moslem warriors 
 should be interred ; as for those of the Christians, they were 
 gathered in heaps, and vast pyres of wood were formed, on 
 which they were consumed. The flames of these pyres rose 
 high in the air, and were seen afar off" in the night; and 
 when the Christiana beheld them from the neighhouring 
 hills they beat their breasts and tore their hair, and lamented 
 
 * This battle is called indiscriminately by historians the battle of 
 Guadaletc, or Xeres, from the neighbourhood of that city. 
 
 2 P 
 
 
 '^' 
 
 u 
 
 V 
 
 1 
 
 
420 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF 8PAIH. 
 
 Over them ns over the funeral fires of their country. The 
 camnpe of that battle infected the air for two whole months, 
 and bones were seen lyinj? in heaps upon the field for more 
 than forty years: nay, when apes had past and gone, the 
 husbandman, turning up the soil, would still find fragments 
 of Gothic cuiiasst'S and helms, and Moorish scimitars, the 
 relics of that dreadful fif^ht. 
 
 For tliree days the Arabian horsemen pursued the flying 
 Christians, hunting them over the face of the country; so 
 that but a scanty number of that mighty host escaped to tell 
 the tale of their disaster. 
 
 Taric ben Zeyad considered his victory incomplete so long 
 as the Gothic monarch survived ; he proclaimed great rewards, 
 therefore, to whomsoever should bring Roderick to him, dead 
 or alive. A diligent search was accordingly made in every 
 direction, but for a long time in vain; at length a soldier 
 brought to Taric the head of a Christian warrior, on which 
 ■was a cap decorated with feathers and precious stones. The 
 Arab leader received it as the head of the unfortunate 
 Roderick, and sent it as a trophy of his victory, to Muza ben 
 No.sier, who, in like manner, transmitted it to the caliph at 
 Damascus. The Spanish historians, however, have always 
 denied its identity. 
 
 A mystery has ever hung, and ever must continue to hang, 
 over the fate of King Roderick, in that dark and doleful day 
 of Spain. Whether he went down amidst the storm of battle, 
 and atoned for his sins and errors by a patriot grave, or 
 whether he survived to repent of them in hermit exile, must 
 remain matter of conjecture and dispute. The learned Arch- 
 bishop Rodrigo, who has recorded the events of this disastrous 
 field, affirms that Roderick fell beneath the vengeful blade 
 of the traitor Julian, and thus expiated with his blood his 
 crime against the hapless Florinda ; but the archbishop stands 
 alone in his record of the fact. It seems generally admitted 
 that Orelia, the favourite war-horse of Don Roderick, was 
 found entangled in a marsh on the borders of the Guadalete, 
 with the sandals, and mantle, and royal insignia of the king 
 lying close by him.* The river at this place ran broad and 
 deep, and was encumbered with the dead bodies of warriors 
 and steeds ; it has been supposed, therefore, that he perished 
 in the stream ; but his body was not found within its waters. 
 
 When several years had passed away, and men's minds, 
 
LKOEND OF DON RODERICK. 
 
 431 
 
 . The 
 
 nonths, 
 :iT more 
 ,nc, the 
 igments 
 UTS, the 
 
 le flying 
 ntry; so 
 id to tell 
 
 B BO long 
 ; rewards, 
 aim, dead 
 
 in every 
 
 a soldier 
 on which 
 nes. The 
 nfortunate 
 Muza ben 
 p caliph at 
 ,ve always 
 
 le to hang, 
 ioleftil day 
 n of battle, 
 grave, or 
 jxile, must 
 rned Arcb- 
 s disastrous 
 [cful blade 
 J blood his 
 ishop stands 
 hy admitted 
 lerick, was 
 Guadalete, 
 ,f the king 
 broad and 
 of warriors 
 he perished 
 its waters, 
 en's mindd, 
 
 being restored to some doji^ec of trnnquillity, began to occupy 
 themselves nlmut the events of this dismal day, a rumour 
 arose that Roderick had escajied from the carnage on the 
 banks of the Guadalete, and was still alive. It was said, that 
 having from ii rising ground caught a view of the whole field 
 of battle, and seen that the day was lost, and his army flying 
 in all directions, he likewise sought his safety in fli<.«;ht. It is 
 added, that the Arab horsemen, while rsrourint: the i.iountains 
 in quest of fugitives, found a sht;>honl arrived u» he royal 
 robes, and brought him before t'l" conjaovor, hfluving him 
 to be ihe king himself. Count Julian sooi dispelled the 
 error. On being questioned; the tr^'mMing 'ustic dec!tired 
 that while tending his sheep in tho folds oF the movri^^in'^, 
 there came a cavalier on a horse wcari^n! and spent, m; ' tc^.dy 
 to sink beneath the spur; that Cue avf/iJer. rvitU an autho- 
 ritative voice and menacing mr, oonnun^ded bim *o exohango 
 garments witli him, and clad iii^osclf in lii-j rude g;; \*b of 
 sheep-skin, and took his crook and his f^rip oV pv'>vi-iuns, 
 and continued up the rugged defiles of the monniains lending 
 towards Castile, until he was lost to view* 
 
 This tradition was fondly cherished by mav^y, who clung to 
 the belief in the existence of theii' monarch its their rivain 
 hope for the redemption of Spain. Tt was even nffirmod that 
 he had taken refuge, with many of his ho>-£, ^n an island of 
 the " Ocean sea," from whence he might yet retuiMi oaco 
 more to elevate his standai'd, and battle for the ixcitvar^' of 
 his throne. 
 
 Year after year, however, elapsed, and iiothnig was i;f tiril 
 of Don Roderick ; yet, like Sehj>«t'an of Portugal, and ArtJiur 
 of England, his name continue;^ ti» be a rallying point for 
 popular faith, and the mystery of his >^kI to give rise to 
 romantic fables. At length, whci genevation after gene- 
 ration had sunk into the gra /e. riid near two centuries had 
 passed and gone, traces wpr< said to be discovered that threw 
 a light on the final Torimes of the unfortimate Roderick. 
 At that time. Do ) Alphcmso the Great, King of Leon, had 
 wrested ili.'; citv of Visco. in Lasitania, from the hands of 
 the Moslems. As his soldiers were ranging about the city 
 and its environs, one of them discovered in a field, outsid* of 
 the walls, a small chapel or hermitage, with a sepulchre in 
 
 * Bleda, Cron. lib. iL cap. 9. Abulcaihn Tuif AbenUuriqne, BU i 
 cap. 10. 
 
 2f2 
 
 M 
 
 1) 
 
 *r 
 
 u 
 
422 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF 8PA1K. 
 
 front, on which was inscribed this epitaph, in Gothic cha- 
 racters : — 
 
 HIC BKQUIESCIT RUDERICUS 
 ULTIMUS REX GOTHOBUM. 
 
 Here lies Roderick, 
 The last king of the Goths. 
 
 It has been believed by many that this was the veritable 
 tomb of the monarch, and that in this hermitage he had 
 finished his days in solitary penance. The warrior, as he 
 contemplated the supposed tomb of the once haughty Roderick, 
 forgot all his faults and errors^ and ^hed a soldiers tear over 
 his memory; but when his thoughts turned to Count Julian, 
 his patriotic indignation broke forth, and with his dagger he 
 inscribed a rude malediction on the stone. 
 
 " Accursed," said he, " be the impious and headlong ven- 
 geance of the traitor Julian. He was a murderer of his king; 
 a destroyer of his kindred ; a betrayer of his country. May 
 his name be bitter in every mouth, and his memory infamous 
 to all generations." 
 
 Here ends the legend of Don Roderick. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE FOREGOING l^EGEND. 
 
 THE TOMB OF RODERICK. 
 
 The venerable Sebastiano, Bishop of Salamanca, declares 
 that the inscription on the tomb at Viseo, in Portugal, 
 existed in his t Jie, and that he had seen it. A particular 
 account of the exile and hermit life of Roderick is furnished 
 by Bcrganza, on the outhority of Portuguese chronicles. 
 
 Algunos historiadores Portugueses asseguran, que el Rey 
 Rodrigo, pcrdida la battalia, huyo a tierra de Merida, y se 
 recogio en el monasterio de Cauliniano, en donde, nrre- 
 pentido de sua culpas, procuro confessarlas con muchas lo- 
 grimas. Deseando mas retiro, y escogicndo por compafiero 
 a un mongc llamado Roman, y elevando la Imagen dc 
 Nazareth, que Cyriaco mongc de nacion griego avra traido dc 
 Jerusalem al monasterio de Cauliniano, se Rubio & un monte 
 muy aspero, que estaba sobre el mar, jimto al lugar dc 
 Peyemeyra. Vivio Rodrigo en compania de el monge en d 
 hueco dc una gruta por espacio de un afio ; despues hc pai^w) 
 d la ermita do mux Miguel, quo estaba cerca do Viitco, en 
 dondc murio y too lepultado. 
 
 Pu 
 
 Tama 
 que J 
 ignon 
 J^n J 
 encou 
 aqui ^ 
 
 lib. i: 
 
 As t 
 
 iitmous 
 
 Koderi( 
 
 accounl 
 
 city, wl 
 
 flood, cl 
 
 grandso 
 
 rations, 
 
 the artif 
 
 of myst^ 
 
 plcxiiy, 
 
 'I' 
 
 iagu8 
 
 and pre< 
 
 caverns 
 
 hears tra 
 
 are occas 
 
 or beneui 
 
 Those 
 
 or retreat 
 
 of the 
 
 •lud rock; 
 
 ami .sucli" 
 
 m his his 
 
 loleduns, 
 
 <lt'lugc, \Y 
 
 Some h 
 
 ^wn j)]a( 
 
 trea<<ure, 
 
 for the pel 
 
 locution. 
 
 who give 
 
 'Sal 
 
lliiMimpi 
 
 im 
 
 wmum^ 
 
 LEGEND OF DOK BODEBICK 
 
 423 
 
 Puedese ver csta relacion en las notas do Don lliomas 
 Tamayo sobrc Paulo dcacano. El chronicon dc san Millan, 
 (JUG llcga hasta cl ano 883, de/e que, hasta su liempo, si 
 ignora el fin del Rey Rodri^o. Pocos anos despucs el Ilcy 
 lion Alonzo el Magno, aviendo ganado la ciudad de Viseo, 
 encoutro en una iglesia el epitafio que en romance dize — 
 aqui yaze Rodrigo, idtinio Rey de los Godos. — Uerganza^ 
 lib. 1, cap. 13. 
 
 THE CAVE OF IIERCULE8. 
 
 As the story of the necromantic tower is one of the most 
 famous as well as least credible points in the history of Don 
 Roderick, it may be well to fortify or buttress it by some 
 account of another marvel of the > ity of Toledo, lliis ancient 
 city, which dates its existence nlmost from the time of the 
 Hood, claiming as its founder Tubal, the son of Japhet, and 
 grandson of Noah,* has been the warrior hold of many gene- 
 rations, and a strange diversity of races. It bears traces of 
 the artifices and devices of its various occupants, and is full 
 of mysteries, and subjects for antiquarian conjecture and per- 
 plexity. It is built upon a high, rocky promontory, with the 
 Tagus brawling roimd its base, and is overlooked by cragged 
 and precipitous hills. These hills abound with clefts and 
 caverns ; and the promontory itself, on which the city is built, 
 bears traces of vaults and subterraneous habitations, which 
 Ave occttsionully discovered under the ruins of ancient houses, 
 or beneath the churches and convents. 
 
 These iu"e supposed by some to have Iwen the habitations 
 or retreats of the primitive inhabitants ; for it was the custom 
 of the ancients, according to Pliny, to make caves in high 
 ami rocky places, and live in tlu in through fear of Hoods ; 
 and such a precaution, says the worthy Don Pedro de Roxas, 
 in his history of Toledo, was natural enough among tite first 
 Toledans, seeing that they founded their city shortly after the 
 <leluge, while the memory of it was still fresh in their minds. 
 
 Some have supjwsed these secret caves and vaults to have 
 lK>en places of concealment of the iidutbitants and their 
 treasure, during times of war and violence ; or rude temples 
 for the performance of religious ceremonies in times of por- 
 Hccution. There are not wanting other, and grave writers, 
 who give them a still darker puriiose. In these caves, Kay 
 * S»Uttr, Uitt. Oran. Cardiiul Prologo. Vol. I. plan 1. 
 
 \i 
 
424 
 
 THE CONQUEST OP SPAIN. 
 
 they, wore taught the diabolical mysteries of magic : and 
 here were perfonned those inftrnal ceremonies and ineanta- 
 tiona, horrible in the eyes of God and man. " History,' says 
 the worthy Don Pedro de Koxas, "is full of accounts that 
 Ihe magi taught and performed their mngic and their super- 
 stitious rites in profound caves and secret places ; because as 
 this art of the devil was prohibited from the very origin of 
 Christianity, they always sought for hidden places in which 
 to practice it." In the time of the Moors this art, we ore 
 told, was publicly taught at their universities, the same as 
 astronomy, philosophy, and mathematics, and at no place was 
 it cultivated with more success than at Toledo. Hence this 
 city has ever been darkly renowned for mystic science ; inso- 
 much that the magic art was called by the French, and by 
 other nations, the Arte Toledana. 
 
 Of all the marvels, however, of this ancient, picturesque, 
 romantic, and necromantic ci' y, none in modern times surpass 
 Hie cave of Hercules, if we may take the account of Don Fedro 
 de Roxas for authentic. The entrance to this cave is within 
 the church of San Oines, situated in nearly the highest ])art 
 of the city. ITie portal is sccuied by massive doors, opening 
 within the walls of the church, but which are kept rigorously 
 dosed. The cavern extends undev the city and beneath the 
 bed of the Tagus to the distance of three leagues beyond. It 
 is, in some places, of rare architecture, built of small stones 
 curiously wrought, and sup|)orted by columns and arched. 
 
 In the year 1546 an account of this cavern was given to the 
 archbishop and cardinal Don Juan Martinez Siliceo. who, 
 desirous of examining it, oi-dered the entrance to be cleaned. 
 A number of persons furnished with piovisions, lanterns, and 
 oords, then went in, and having proceeded about half a league, 
 came to a place where there was a kind of chapel or temple, 
 having a table or altar, with several statues of bronze in 
 niches or on pedestals. 
 
 While they were regarding this mysterious scene of ancient 
 worship or incantation, one of the statues fell, with a noise 
 that ccnoed through the cavern, and smote the hearts of the 
 adventurers with terror. Recovering from their alarm they 
 proceeded onwartl, but were soon again dismayed by a roaring 
 and rushing sound that increased as they advanced. It was 
 made by a furious and turbulent stream, the dark waters of 
 which were too deep, and broad, and rapid to be crossed. By 
 
 this 
 any c 
 turne 
 when 
 the te 
 of the 
 heing 
 them 
 pursue 
 not m< 
 Aloi 
 record! 
 thrcatc 
 refuge 
 took m 
 gropinj 
 leagues 
 Anot 
 the con; 
 cealed e 
 Whoev< 
 several 
 all undc 
 key of i 
 approac 
 growliuj 
 to brave 
 The n 
 had lost 
 entcrprii 
 the Rtor 
 search o 
 niany he 
 have ret 
 vrgcd hii 
 he suppo 
 he bt>hcl( 
 doubtlesfl 
 heen torn 
 Losing 
 of theoa 
 beheld di 
 
LEG£N£ OF DON BODERICK. 
 
 426 
 
 : and 
 canta- 
 ■' says 
 :a tliat 
 super- 
 nise as 
 igin of 
 I which 
 we are 
 ame as 
 ace was 
 ice this 
 j; inso- 
 and by 
 
 uresque, 
 4 surpass 
 onFedro 
 ^s within 
 lest i>art 
 
 opening 
 ij^orously 
 leath the 
 
 end. It 
 ill stones 
 rchea. 
 
 en to the 
 
 CO. who, 
 cleaned. 
 
 orns, and 
 
 a league, 
 temple, 
 
 )ronxe in 
 
 )r 
 
 nf ancient 
 th a noise 
 rts of the 
 larin they 
 a roaring 
 It was 
 waters of 
 issed. By 
 
 this time their hearts were so chilled they could not seek 
 any other passage by which they niij^ht advance ; so they 
 turned back and hastened out of the cave. It was ni<>;ht-faU 
 when they sallied forth, and they were so much atl'ecled by 
 the terror they had undergone, and by the cold and dam]) air 
 of the cavern, to which they were the more sensible from its 
 being in the summer, that all of them fell sick, and several of 
 them died. Whether the archbishop was encouraged to 
 pursue his research and gratify his curiosity, the history does 
 not mention. 
 
 Alonzo Telles de Meneses, in his history of the world, 
 records, that not long before his time a boy of Toledo, being 
 threatened with punishment by his master, fled and took 
 refuge in this cave. Fancying his pursuer at his heels, he 
 took no heed of the obscurity or coldness of the cave, but kept 
 groping and blundering forward, until he came forth at three 
 leagues distance from the city. 
 
 Another and very popular story of this cave, current among 
 the common people, was, that in its remote recesses lay con- 
 cealed a great treasure of gold, left there by the Romans. 
 Whoever would reach this precious hoard must pass through 
 several caves or grottos ; each having its particular terror, and 
 all under the guardianship of a ferocious dog. who has the 
 key of all the gates, and watches day and night. At the 
 approach of any one, he shows his teeth, and makes a hideous 
 grow ling ; but no adventurer after wealth has lutd courage 
 to brave a contest with this terrific cerberus. 
 
 The most intrepid candidate on record w as a poor man who 
 had lost his all, and had those grand incentives to desperate 
 enterprise, a wife and a large family of children. Hearing 
 the story of this cave, hv detenuined to venture alone it^. 
 search of the treasure. He accordingly entered, and w audered 
 many hours, bewildered, about the cave. Often would he 
 have returned, but the tlioughts of his wife and children 
 urged him on. At length he arrived near to the place where 
 he 6U|>posed the treasure lay hidden ; but here, to his dismay, 
 he beheld the floor of the cavern strewn with human bones; 
 doubtless the remains of adventurers like himself, who had 
 been torn to pieces. 
 
 Losing all courage, he now turned and sought his way out 
 of the cave. Horrors thickened u|>on him as he fled. He 
 beheld direful phantoms glaring and gibbering around him. 
 
 
 i 
 
 h 
 
426 
 
 a HE C0XQUE6T OP SPAIN, 
 
 and heard the sound of pursuit in the echoes of his footsteps. 
 He reached his home overcome A\'ith affiight ; several hoiurs 
 elapsed before he could recover speech to tell his stoiy, and 
 he died on the foUowin^jf day. 
 
 The judicious Don Pedro do Roxas holds the account of 
 the buried treasure for fabulous, but the adventure of this 
 unlucky man for ^cry possible ; being led on by avarice, or 
 rather the hope of retrieving a desperate fortune. He, 
 moreover, pronounces his dying shortly after coming forth, 
 as very probable ; because the darkness ef the cave, its cold- 
 ness, the fright at finding the bones, the dread of meeting the 
 imaginary dog, all johiing to operate upon a man who was 
 past the prime of his days, and enfeebled by poverty and 
 scanty food, might easily cause his death. 
 
 Many have considered this cave as intended originally for 
 a sally or retreat from the city in case it should be taken ; an 
 opinion rendered probable, it is thought, by its grandeur and 
 great extent. 
 
 The learned Salazar do Mendoza, however, in his history 
 of the grand cardinal of Spain, affirms it as an established 
 fact, that it was first wrought out of the rock by Tubal, the 
 son of Japhet, and grandson of Noah ; and afterwards repaired 
 and greatly augmented by Hercules the Egj'ptian, who made 
 it his habitation after he had erected his pillars at the straits of 
 Gibraltar. Here, too, it is said, he read magic to his followers, 
 and taught them those supernatural arts by which he accom- 
 plished his vast achievements. Others think that it was a 
 temple dedicated to Hercules ; as was the case, according to 
 Pomponius Mela, with the great cave in the rock of Gibraltar; 
 certain it is, that it has always borne the name of " The Cave 
 of Hercules." 
 
 There are not wanting some who have insinuated that it 
 was a work dating from the time of the Romans, and intended 
 as a cloaca or sewer of the city ; but suoh a grovelling insinua- 
 tion will be treated with proper scorn by the reader, after the 
 nobler purposes to which he has heard this marvellous cavern 
 consecratea. 
 
 From all the circumstances here adduced from learned and 
 reverend authors, it will be jjcrceived that Toledo is a city 
 fruitful of marvels, and that the necromantic tower of Hercules 
 has more solid foundation than most edifices of similar impoit 
 in ancient history. 
 
 of hi 
 
 quest 
 
 pany 
 
 was a 
 
 who 
 
 resear 
 
 and ir 
 
 was a 
 
 bo nig 
 
 boast < 
 
 fesscd 
 
 He re 
 
 under i 
 
 work, J 
 
 but tha 
 
 thereon 
 
 necrom 
 
 until so 
 
 and aut 
 
 LE 
 
 The 
 banks ot 
 inroads 
 them ; 
 iuhabitai 
 children. 
 
SUBJUGATION OF 8PAIX. 
 
 4S9 
 
 »tstepff. 
 L hours 
 ly, and 
 
 [)unt of 
 of this 
 rice, or 
 . He, 
 T forth, 
 its cold- 
 ting the 
 jrho was 
 erty and 
 
 nally for 
 ken; an 
 dcur and 
 
 s history 
 itablished 
 ubal, the 
 J repaired 
 ho made 
 straits of 
 followers, 
 le occom- 
 ; it was a 
 ording to 
 Gibraltar; 
 The Cave 
 
 The writer of these pages will venture to add the result 
 of his personal researches respecting the far-famed cavern in 
 question. Rambling about Toledo in the year 1 826, in com- 
 pany with a small knot of antiquity hunters, among whom 
 was an eminent British painter,* and an English noblcman,f 
 who has since distinguished himself in Spanish historical 
 research, we directed our steps to the church of San Gines, 
 and inquired for the portal of the secret cavern. The sacristan 
 was a voluble and communicative man, and one not likely to 
 bo niggard of his tongue about anything he knew, or slow to 
 boast of any marvel pertaining to his church ; but he pro- 
 fessed utter ignorance of the existence of any such portal. 
 He remembered to have heard, however, that immediately 
 under the entrance to the chiwch there was an arch of mason- 
 work, apparently the upper part of some subterranean portal ; 
 but that all had been covered up, and a pavement laid down 
 thereon ; so that whether it led to the magic cave or the 
 necromantic tower remains a mystery, and so must remain 
 until some monarch or archbishop shall again have courage 
 and authority to break the spell. 
 
 LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF 
 
 SPAIN.} 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The overthrow of King Roderick and his army on the 
 banks of the Guadalete, threw open all southern Spain to the 
 inroads of the Moslems. The whole country lied before 
 them ; villages and hamlets were hastily abandoned ; the 
 inhabitants placed their aged and infirm, their wives and 
 children, and their most precious effects, on mides and other 
 
 • Mr. D. W— kie. f Lord Mah-n. 
 
 t In this legend most of the facts respecting the Arab inroads into 
 Spain are on the authority of Arabian writers who bad the most accu- 
 rale means of information. Those relative to the Spaniards are chiefly 
 from old Spanish chronicles. It is to be remarked that the Arab 
 accounts have most the air of verity, and the events, as they relate 
 them, are in the ordinary course of common life. The Spanish 
 accounts, on the contrary, are full of the marvelloua ; for there were n« 
 greater romancera than the monkish chroniclers. 
 
 H 
 
 I 
 
 
 * 1 
 
 'i\ ■ 
 
 !-j 
 
428 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF UTAIV. 
 
 
 beasts of burden, and, driving before them their flocks and 
 herds, made for distant parts of the land ; for the fastnesses 
 of the mountains, and for such of the cities as yet possessed 
 walls and bulwarks. Many gave out, faint and weary, by the 
 way, and fell into the hands of the enemy ; others, at the 
 distant sight of a tiu'ban or a Moslem standard, or on hearing 
 the clangour of a trumpet, abandoned their flocks and herds, 
 and hastened their flight with tlieir families. If their pur- 
 suers gained upon them, they threw by their household goods 
 and whatever was of burden, and thought themselves fortu- 
 nate to escape, naked and destitute, to a place of refuge. 
 Thus the roads were covered with scattered flocks and herds, 
 and with spoil of all kind. 
 
 The Arabs, however, were not guilty of wanton cruelty or 
 ravage ; on the contrary, they conducted themselves with a 
 moderation but seldom witnessed in more civilised conquerors. 
 Taric el Tuerto, though a thorough man of the sword, and one 
 whose whole thoughts were warlike, yet evinced wonderful 
 judgment and discretion. He checked the predatory habits 
 of his troops with a rigorous hand. They were forbidden, 
 under pain of severe punishment, to molest any peaceable and 
 unfortified towns, or any unarmed and unresisting people who 
 remained quiet in their homes. No spoil was permitted to be 
 made excepting in fields of battle, in camps of routed foes, or 
 in cities taken by the sword. 
 
 Taric had little need to exercise his severity; his orders 
 were obeyed through love, rather than fear, for he was the 
 idol of his soldiery. They admired his restless and daring 
 spirit, which nothing could dismay. His gaunt and sinewy 
 form, his fiery eye, his visage seamed with scars, were suited 
 to the hardihood of his deeds; and when mounted on his 
 foaming steed, careering the field of battle with quivering 
 lance or flashing scimitar, bis Arabs wotdd greet him with 
 shouts of enthusiasm. But what endeared him to them more 
 than all was his soldierlike contempt of gain. Conquest was 
 his only passion ; glory the only reward he coveted. As to 
 the spoil of the conquered, he shared it freely among his fol- 
 lowers, and squandered his own portion with open-handed 
 generosity. 
 
 Wliile Tanc was pusliing his triumphant course through 
 Andalusia, tidings of his stupendous victory ou the banks of 
 the Quadalete were carried to Muza ben Nosdcr. Messengers 
 
 after] 
 
 achic\ 
 quest, 
 of the 
 thousa 
 stroye( 
 city is 
 The 
 and, ill; 
 he tree 
 Spain E 
 spatchei 
 him of 
 himself, 
 at least, 
 commau 
 as the c 
 gained tl 
 He thi 
 assume t 
 a letter 
 career, 
 charge tl 
 force is 
 rashly ve 
 thee spec- 
 great an ( 
 The let 
 of triumj 
 part of A 
 of Ecija. 
 sunburnt 
 the motiv 
 and turnii 
 his eaptai 
 your lanci 
 repose: fc 
 mighty foj 
 The Ara 
 wwds : " 
 whole coui 
 caa we hu\ 
 
mm 
 
 SUBJUGATION OF SFAIN. 
 
 429 
 
 ^g and 
 tnesses 
 ssessed 
 by the 
 
 at the 
 leaving 
 . herds, 
 lir pvur- 
 d goods 
 s fortu- 
 
 refuge. 
 i herds, 
 
 fuelty or 
 s with a 
 iquerors. 
 L, and one 
 vonderful 
 >rv hftbits 
 brbidden, 
 jeable and 
 jople who 
 tted to be 
 ;d foes, or 
 
 his orders 
 e was the 
 id daring 
 ,.id sinewy 
 |ere suited 
 
 id on his 
 I quivering 
 I him with 
 Lhem more 
 Iquest was 
 Id. As to 
 Ing his fol- 
 
 eu-honded 
 
 through 
 
 le banks of 
 
 [essengeri 
 
 after messengers arrived, vyeing who should most extol the 
 achievements of the concjueror and the grandeur of the con- 
 quest. "Taric," said they, " has overthrown the whole force 
 of the unbelievers in one mighty battle. Their kin<i; is slain ; 
 thousands and tens of thousands of their warriors are de- 
 stroyed; the whole land lies at our mercv ; and city after 
 city is surrendering to the victorious arms of Taric." 
 
 The heart of Muza ben Nozier sickened at these tidings, 
 and, instead of rejoicing at the success of the cause of Islam, 
 he trembled with jealous fear lest the triumi)h8 of Taric in 
 Spain should eclipse his own victories in Africa. He de- 
 spatched missives to the Caliph Waled Almanzor, informing 
 him of these new conquests, but taking the whole glory to 
 himself, and making no mention of the services of Taric ; or, 
 at least, only mentioning him incidentally as a subordinate 
 commander. " The battles," said he, '• have been terrible 
 as the day of judgment ; but, by tlie aid of Allah, we have 
 gained the victory." 
 
 He then prepared in all haste to cross over into Spain and 
 assume the command of the conquering army ; and he wrote 
 a letter in advance to inteiTupt Taric in the mid^t of his 
 career. "Wherever this letter may find thee," said he, "I 
 choice thee holt with thy army and await my coming. Thy 
 force is inadequate to the subjugation of the land, and by 
 rashly venturing thou mayst lose everything. I will be with 
 thee speedily, with a reinforcement of troops competent to so 
 great an enterprise." 
 
 The letter overtook the veteran Taric while in the full glow 
 of triumphant success ; having overrun some of the richest 
 part of Andalusia, and just received the surrender of the city 
 of Ecija. As he read the letter, the blood mantled in his 
 sunburnt cheek, and fire kindled in his eye ; for he penetrated 
 the motives of Muza. He suppressed his wrath, however, 
 and turning with a bitter expression of forced composure to 
 his captains, "Unsaddle your steeds," said he, "and plant 
 your lances in the earth ; set up your tents and take your 
 repose : for we must await the coming of the W^ali with a 
 mighty force to assist us in our conqtiest." 
 
 The Arab warriors broke forth with loud murmurs at these 
 words : " What need have we of aid," cried they, " when the 
 whole country is flying before us ; and what better commander 
 can we have than Taric to lead us un to victory ? " 
 
 ^1 
 
430 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF 6PAIX. 
 
 Count Julian, also, who was present, now hastened to give 
 his traitorous counsel. 
 
 *' Why pause," cried he, " at this precious moment ? The 
 great anny of the Goths is vanquished, and their nobles are 
 slaughtered or dispersed. Follow up your blow before the 
 land can recover from its panic. Overrun the provinces, 
 seize upon the cities, make yomrself master of the capital, and 
 your conquest is complete."* 
 
 The advice of Julian was applauded by all the Arab chief- 
 tains, who were impatient of any interruption in their career 
 of conquest. Taric was easily persuaded to what was the 
 wish of his heart. Disregarding the letter of Muza, there- 
 fore, he ])repared to pursue his victories. For this purpose 
 he ordered a review of his troops on the plain of Ecija. 
 Some were mounted on steeds which they had brought from 
 Africa; the rest he supplied with horses taken from the 
 Christians. He repeated his general orders, that they should 
 inflict no wanton injury, nor plunder any place that offered no 
 resistance. They were forbidden also to encumber themselves 
 with booty, or even with provisions; but were to scour the 
 country with all speed, and seize upon all its fortresses and 
 strong-holds. 
 
 He then divided his host into three several armies. One 
 he placed under the command of the Greek renegade, Magued 
 el Rumi, a man of desperate courage ; and sent it against the 
 ancient city of Cordova. Another was sent against the city 
 of Malaga, and was led by Zaid ben Kesadi, aided by the 
 Bishop Oppas. The third was led by Taric himself, and with 
 this he determined to make a wide sweep through the 
 kingdom.! 
 
 CHAPTER H. 
 
 The terror of the arms of Taric ben Zeyad went before 
 him ; and, at the same time, the report of his lenity to those 
 who submitted without resistance. Wherever he appeared, 
 the towns, for the most part, sent forth some of their principal 
 inhabitants to proffer a surrender ; for they were destitute of 
 fortifications, and their fighting men had perished in battle. 
 They were all received into allegiance to the caliph, and were 
 protected from pillage or molestation. 
 
 * Conde, p. i. cap. 10. 
 t Crgnica de Espafla, de Alonzo el Sabio, p. iii. cap. 1. 
 
 Aft 
 entert 
 villagi 
 ing ri' 
 famou 
 favour 
 beheld 
 it seer 
 earth. 
 Tari 
 able af 
 walls a 
 times ( 
 Arab el 
 warrior 
 and the 
 valleys, 
 paratioii 
 The c 
 flower o 
 many of 
 and "few 
 children 
 posed to 
 readily c 
 able tern 
 their lav 
 were to 
 them tha 
 Gothic k 
 On tal 
 towers ar 
 warrior n 
 who had 
 This aica 
 and built 
 niay be s( 
 ^ * The b( 
 
 Pedraza, in 
 horseman, 
 and which \ 
 inwribed, ii 
 
StTBJtrOATION OF SPAIX. 
 
 431 
 
 give 
 
 The 
 
 lc8 are 
 )rc tbe 
 ivinces, 
 tal, and 
 
 b cbief- 
 : career 
 was the 
 ,, therc- 
 puvpose 
 )t' Ecija. 
 rht from 
 'rom the 
 •y should 
 tfered no 
 lemselves 
 acour the 
 Dsses and 
 
 [es. One 
 Magued 
 
 ainst the 
 the city 
 I by the 
 and with 
 
 ough the 
 
 After mar hing some distance through the country, lie 
 entered one day a vast and beautiful plain, interspersed with 
 villages, adorned with groves and gardens, w{.tcred by wind- 
 ing rivers, and surrounded by lofty mountains. It was the 
 famous vega, or plain of Granada, des Jned to be for ages the 
 favourite abode of the Moslems. When the Arab conquerors 
 beheld this delicious vega, they were lost in admiration ; for 
 it seemed as if the prophet had given them a paradise on 
 earth, as a reward for their services in his cause. 
 
 Taric approached the city of Granada, which had a formid- 
 able aspect, seated on lofty hills, and fortified with Gothic 
 walls and towers, and with the red castle or citadel built in 
 times of old by the Phoenicians or the Romans. As the 
 Arab chieftain eyed the place, he was pleased with its stern 
 warrior look, contrasting with the smiling beauty of its vega, 
 and the freshness and voluptuous abundance of its hills and 
 valleys. He pitched his tent before its walls, and made pre- 
 parations to attack it with all his force. 
 
 The city, however, bore but the semblance of power. The 
 flower of its youth had perished in the battle of the Guadalcte ; 
 many of the principal inhabitants had fled to the mountains, 
 and few remained in the city excepting old men, women, and 
 children, and a number of Jews, which last were well dis- 
 posed to take part with the conquerors. The city, therefore, 
 readily capitulated, and was received into vassalage on favoiu-- 
 able terms. The inhabitants were to retain their property, 
 their laws, and their religion ; their churches and priests 
 were to be respected ; and no other tribute was required of 
 them than such as they had been accustomed to pay to their 
 Gothic kings. 
 
 On taking possession of Granada, Taric garrisoned the 
 towers and castles, and left as alcayde, or governor, a chosen 
 warrior named Betiz Abcn Uabuz, a native of Anibia Felix, 
 who had distinguished himself by his valour and abilities. 
 This alcayde subsequently made himself king of Granada, 
 and built a palace on one of its hills ; the remains of which 
 may be seen at the present day.* 
 
 * The house shown as the ancient residence of Aben Habuz is called 
 La Casa del Oallo, or the House of the Weathercock ; so named, sayii 
 PedrazB, in his History of Granada, from a bronze figure of an Arab 
 horseman, armed with lance and buckler, which once surmounted it, 
 and which varied with every wind. On this warlike weathercock was 
 iaacribed, in Arabic characters : — 
 
432 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 i 
 
 
 Even the delights of Granada had no poM-er to detain the 
 active and ardent 'i'aric. To the east of the city he beheld a 
 lofty cliain of mountains, towering to the sky, and crowned 
 with shininfjj snow. These were the "Mountains of the 
 Sun nnd Air ;" and the perpetual snows on their summits 
 gave birth to streams that fertilised the plains. In their 
 bosoms, shut up among cliffs and precipices, were many small 
 valleys of great beauty and abundance. The inhabitants 
 were a bold and hardy race, who looked upon their mountains 
 as ev^^rlasting fortresses that could never be taken. The in- 
 habitants of the surrounding country had fled to these natu- 
 ral fastnesses for refuge, and driven thither their flocks and 
 herds. 
 
 Taric felt that the dominion he had acquired of the plains 
 would be insecure until he had penetrated and subdued these 
 haughty mountains. Leaving Aben Habuz, therefore, in 
 command of Granada, he marched with his army across the 
 vega. and entered the folds of the sierra, which stretch to- 
 wards the south. The inhabitants fled with affiight on hear- 
 ing the Moorish tnimjiets, or beholding the approach of the 
 turbaned horsemen, and plunged deeper into the recesses of 
 tlieir mountains. As the army advanced, the roads became 
 more and more rugged and difficult ; sometimes climbing 
 great rocky heights, and at other times descending abruptly 
 into deep ravines, the beds of winter torrents. The mountains 
 were strangely wild and sterile ; broken into cliffs and preci- 
 pices cf variegated marble. At their feet were little valleys 
 enamelled with groves and gardens, interlaced with silver 
 streams, and studded with villages and hr.ml^^ts ; but all de- 
 serted by their inhabitants. No one appeared to dispute the 
 inroad of the Moslems, who continued their march with in- 
 creasing confidence, their pennons fluttering from rock and 
 cliff", and the valleys echoing to the din of trumpet, drum, 
 and cymbal. At length they came to a defile where the 
 
 " Dice el sabio Aben Habuz 
 
 Que asi se defiende el Andalux." 
 " In this way, says Abeu Habuz the wise, 
 
 The Andalusiau his foe defies." 
 
 The Caea del Gallo, even until within twenty years, poeeessed two 
 
 freat ballg beautifully decorated with Morisco reliefs. It then caught j 
 re, and was eo damaged ae to require to be nearly rebuilt. It is nowi 
 macufactory of coarse canvi a, and has nothing of the Moorieh character { 
 remaiuing. It commands a beautiful view of the city and the yega» 
 
 njoiin 
 
 a foa 
 
 along 
 
 a brifi 
 
 gloom 
 
 torren 
 
 in the 
 
 formet 
 
 the bri 
 
 into th 
 
 slowly 
 
 greats 
 with fu 
 sort wa 
 javelins 
 Jnost c( 
 rock, b( 
 crushed 
 the edge 
 It wa! 
 The enei 
 pursuit ; 
 brance r 
 and the 
 the enen 
 beheld c 
 enraged 
 and mad 
 was agaii 
 The fie 
 checked i 
 the point 
 ^ega, wh 
 niitted to 
 cabin and 
 offered, ij 
 *he Arab] 
 '"'ght be J 
 ^^ whole] 
 and it del 
 Hia case il 
 of the moJ 
 
mmm 
 
 SUBJUGATIOX OP SrAIN. 
 
 433 
 
 ain the 
 »ehf W a 
 irowned 
 
 of the 
 summits 
 [n their 
 ny small 
 isibitants 
 louwtains 
 
 The in- 
 ese natu- 
 iocks aad 
 
 the plains 
 lued these 
 jiefore, in 
 across the 
 stretch to- 
 il on hear- 
 ach of the 
 recesses of 
 ids became 
 ;8 climbing 
 ng abruptly 
 mountains 
 . and preci- 
 iUle valleys 
 with silver 
 but all de- 
 dispute the 
 ch with in- 
 m rock and 
 upet, dnim» 
 ■where the 
 
 poseeBeed two 
 jt then c»og»» 
 lit. It IB now I 
 Tjorieb charwW ] 
 Id the Vegfc 
 
 mountains seemed to have been rent asunder to make way for 
 a foauiin|j; torrent. The narrow and broken road wound 
 alon^ tlie diz/y edge of the precipices, until it came to where 
 a bridge was thrown across the chnsm. It was a fearful and 
 gloomy pass ; ffreat beetling clifts overhung the road, and the 
 torrent loarcd below. This awful defile has ever been famous 
 in the warlike history of those mountains, by the name, in 
 former times, of the Barranco do Tocos, and at present of 
 the bridge of Tablete. The Saracen army entered fearlessly 
 into the pass ; a part had already crossed the bridge, and was 
 slowly toiling up the rugj^ed road on the opposite side, when 
 great shouts arose, and every elitf appeared suddenly peopled 
 with furious foes. In an instant a deluge of missiles of every 
 sort was rained upon the astonished Moslems. Darts, arrows, 
 javelins, and stones, came whistling down, singling out the 
 most conspicuous cavaliers ; and at times great masses of 
 rock, bounding and thundering along the mountain side, 
 crushed whole ranks at once, or hurled horses and riders over 
 the edge of the precipicer. 
 
 It was in vain to attempt to brave this mountain warfare. 
 The enemy were beyond the reach of missiles, and safe from 
 pursuit ; and the horses of the Arabs were here an incum- 
 brance rather than an aid. The trumpets sounded a retreat, 
 and the army retired in tumult and confusion, harassed by 
 the enemy until extricated from the defile. Taric, who had 
 beheld cities and castles suiTcndering without a blow, was 
 enraged at being braved by a mere horde of mountain boors, 
 and made another attemj)t to penetrate the mountains, but 
 was again waylaid and opposed with horrible slaughter. 
 
 The fieiy son of Ishmael foamed with rage at being thus 
 checked in his career and foiled in his revenge. He was on 
 the point of abandoning the attempt, and returning to the 
 vega, when a Christian boor sought his camp, and was ad- 
 mitted to his presence. The miserable wretch possessed a 
 cabin and a little patch of ground among the mountains, and 
 offered, if these should be protected from ravage, to inform 
 the Arab commander of a way by which troops of horse 
 might be safely introduced into the bosom of the sierra, and 
 the whole subdued. The name of this caitiff was Fandino, 
 and it deserves to be perpetually recorded with ignominy. 
 His case is an instance how much it is in the power, at times, 
 of the most insignificant being to do mischief, and how all 
 
 i 
 
 1 ! 
 
 '1 
 
 y 
 
 12 
 
434 
 
 TUE CONQUEST OF SPAIX. 
 
 
 the valour of the magnnnimous nnd the brave may be defeated 
 by the treason of the selfish and the despicable. 
 
 Instructed by this traitor, the Arab commander caused ten 
 thousand foot soldiers and four thousand horsemen, com- 
 manded by a valiant captain, named Ibrahim Albuxarra, to 
 be conveyed by sea to the little port of Adra, at the Mediter- 
 ranean foot of the mountains. Here they landed, and, 
 Ijuided by the traitor, penetrated to the heart of the sierra, 
 laying cvciything waste. The brave mountaineers, thus 
 liemmed in between two armies, destitute of fortresses and 
 M'ithout hope of succour, Avere obliged to capitulate ; but 
 tlieir valour was not without avail, for never, even in Spain, 
 did vanquished people surrender on prouder or more honour- 
 able terms. We have named the wretch who betrayed his 
 native mountains : let us equally record the name of him 
 whose pious patriotism saved them from desolation. It was 
 the reverend Bishop Centerio. While the warriors rested on 
 their arms in grim and menacing tranquillity among the 
 cliffs, this venerable prelate descended to the Arab tents in 
 the valley, to conduct the capitufation. In stipulating for 
 the safety of his people, he did not forget that they were 
 brave men, and that they still had weapons in their hands. 
 Pie obtained conditions accordingly. It was agreed that they 
 should be permitted to retain their houses, lands, and personal 
 effects ; that they should be unmolested in their religion, and 
 their temples and priests respected : and that they should 
 pay no other tribute than such as they had been accustomed 
 to render to their kings. Should they prefer to leave the 
 country and remove to any part of Christendom, they were 
 to be allowed to sell their possessions ; and to take with them 
 the money, and all their other effects.* 
 
 Ibrahim Albuxarra remained in command of the temtory, 
 and the whole sieiTa, or chain of mountains, took his name, 
 which has since been slightly corrupted into that of the Al- 
 puxarras. The subjugation of this rugged region, however, 
 was for a long time incomplete ; many of the Christians 
 maintained a wild and hostile independence, living in green 
 glens and scanty valleys among the heights ; and the sierra 
 j)f the Alpuxarras has, in all ages, been one of the most dif- 
 ficult parts of Andalusia to be subdued. 
 
 * Pedraza, Hist. Qranada, p. iii. cap. 2. 
 cap. 10. 
 
 Bleda, Cronica, lib. iiJ 
 
 W 
 
 throu 
 
 proce 
 
 that 
 
 Koder 
 
 Ouada 
 
 infidel 
 
 when 
 
 brough 
 
 Host, ai 
 
 their c 
 
 their gi 
 
 mind, ai 
 
 survived 
 
 Cordova 
 
 rallied r< 
 
 they, " a 
 
 a soverei] 
 
 this houj 
 
 Theh& 
 
 *nuch hr\ 
 
 mand ; 
 
 country, - 
 
 ier cause] 
 
 and tow/ 
 
 I^romise j 
 
 your defei 
 
 <^ence anl 
 
 of a weal/ 
 
 ■tile instaj 
 
 Moslem 
 
 and fled t 
 
 Even the ; 
 
 churches, i 
 
 deserted bj 
 
 o^'thecityl 
 
 oad still if 
 
 number of] 
 
 *>ur hundrJ 
 
SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 
 
 435 
 
 lefeated 
 
 osed ten 
 
 ^, com- 
 
 arra, to 
 
 Mcditcr- 
 
 2d, and, 
 
 le sierra, 
 
 era, thus 
 
 •cases and 
 
 ilate ; laut 
 
 in Spain, 
 
 c hononr- 
 
 trayed his 
 
 le ot" Viiitt 
 
 tt. It was 
 
 8 rested on 
 
 among the 
 
 ab tents in 
 
 julating for 
 they were 
 
 Vicir hands. 
 
 ed that they 
 
 ind personal 
 
 religion, and 
 they should 
 accustomed 
 to leave the 
 1 they were 
 ■e with them 
 
 Ihc territory, 
 lok his name, 
 It of the Al- 
 lon, however, 
 \e Christians 
 ving in greea 
 pd the siem 
 I the most dit- 
 
 Icromca, Ub. »• 
 
 CHAPTEU III. 
 
 While the veteran Taric was making this wide circuit 
 through the land, the expedition under Maguod the rencgado 
 proceeded against the city of Cordova. ITie inhabitants of 
 that ancient place had brhn^ki the great army of Don 
 Roderick spreading like an inundation over the plain of the 
 Guadalquivir, and had felt confident that it must sweep the 
 infidel invaders from the land. What then was their dismay, 
 when scattered fugitives, wild with hoiTor and affright, 
 brought them tidings of the entire overthrow of that migjity 
 host, and the disappearance of the king ! In the midst of 
 their consternation, the Gothic noble, Pelistes, arrived at 
 their gates, haggard with fatigue of body and anguish of 
 mind, and leading a remnant of his devoted cavaliers, who had 
 survived the dreadful battle of the Guadalete. The people of 
 Cordova knew the valiant and steadfast spirit of Pelistes, and 
 rallied round him as a last hope. ''Roderick is fallen," cried 
 they, " and we have neither king nor captain : be unto us as 
 a sovereign ; take command of our city, and protect us in 
 this hour of peril !" 
 
 The heart of Pelistes was free from ambition, and was too 
 much broken by grief to be flattered by the offer of com- 
 mand; but he felt above everything for the woes of his 
 country, and was ready to assume any desperate service in 
 her cause. " Your city," said he, " is surrounded by walls 
 and towers, and may yet check the progress of the foe. 
 Promise to stand by me to the last, and I will undertake 
 your defence." The inhabitants all promised implicit obe- 
 dience and devoted zeal : for what will not the inhabitants 
 of a wealthy city promise and profess in a moment of alarm ? 
 The instant, however, that they heard the approach of the 
 Moslem troops, the wealthier citizens packed up their effects 
 and fled to the mountains, or to the distant city of Toledo. 
 Even the monks collected the riches of their convents and 
 churches, and fled. Pelistes, though he saw himself thus 
 deserted by those who had the greatest interest in the safety 
 of the city, yet determined not to abandon its defence. He 
 had still his faithful though scanty band of cavaliers, and a 
 number of fugitives of the army ; in all amounting to about 
 four hundred men. He stationed guards, therefore, at the 
 
 2q 
 
 
 
 1.. 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
i 
 
 48e 
 
 THE CONQUEST OP SPAIN. 
 
 gates and in the towers, and made every preparation for a 
 desperate resistance. 
 
 In the meantime, the army of Moslems and apostate 
 Christians advanced, under the command of the Greek rene- 
 gado, Magued, nnd guided by the traitor Julian. While 
 they were yet at some distance from the city, their scouts 
 brought to them a shepherd, whom they had surprised on the 
 banks of the Guadalquivir. The trembling hind was an inha- 
 bitant of Cordova, and revealed to thera the state of the place, 
 and the weakness of its garrison. 
 
 "And the walls and gates," said Magued, "are they 
 strong and well guarded?" 
 
 "The walls are high, and of wondrous strength," replied 
 the shepherd ; " and soldiers hold watch at the gates by day 
 and night. But there is one place where the city may be 
 secretly entered. In a part of the wall, not far from the 
 bridge, the battlements are broken, and there is a breach 
 at some height from the ground. Hard by stands u fig tree, 
 by the aid of which the wall may easily be scaled." 
 
 Having received this information, Magued halted with his 
 army, and sent forward several renegado Christians, partisans 
 of Count Julian, who entered Cordova as if flying before the 
 enemy. On a dark and tempestuous night, the Moslems 
 approached to the end of the bridge which crosses the Guadal- 
 quivir, and remained in ambush. Magued took a small party 
 of chosen men, and guided by the shepherd, forded the 
 stream, and groped silently along the wall to the place where 
 stood the fig-tree. The traitors, who had fraudulently entered 
 the city, were ready on the wall to render assistance. Magued 
 ordered his followers to to make use of the long folds of their 
 turbans instead of cords, and succeeded without difficulty in 
 clambering into the breach. 
 
 Drawing their scimitars, they now hastened to the gate 
 which opened towards the bridge ; the gimrds, suspecting no 
 assault from within, were taken by surprise, and easily over- 
 powered ; the gate was thrown open, and the army that had 
 remained in ambush rushed over the bridge, and entered 
 without opposition. 
 
 The alarm had by this timo spread throughout the city ; 
 but already a torrent of armed men was pounng through tho 
 streets. Pelistes sallie<l forth with his cavaliers and such of 
 the soldiery as he could collect, and cndeayoured to rep^ i the 
 
 foe 
 
 sIoM 
 
 disp 
 
 oft] 
 
 refuf 
 
 the 
 
 i?ates 
 
 the \\ 
 
 PeJi.st 
 
 calcul, 
 
 courts 
 
 with b 
 
 window 
 
 of wat( 
 
 behind 
 
 propose 
 
 succoiu- 
 
 was rec 
 
 whom b 
 
 of his CO 
 
 le wl 
 
SUBJUGATION OF SPAIX. 
 
 487 
 
 L for a 
 
 postate 
 t rene- 
 
 f scowts 
 I on the 
 an inha- 
 le place. 
 
 ire 
 
 they 
 
 ' replied 
 ,8 by day 
 ty may be 
 from the 
 a breach 
 a fig tree, 
 
 d with hi& 
 s, partisans 
 before the 
 e Moslems 
 the Guadal- 
 small pai-ty 
 ' forded the 
 Aace where 
 itly entered 
 c Majnied 
 )ldB of their 
 idifficulty ui 
 
 Lt the eitv; 
 1 through t»»^. I 
 and such ot| 
 ' torepvithe 
 
 foe ; but every effort was in vain. The Christians wen 
 slowly driven from street to street, ivid square to square, 
 disputing every inch of ground ; until, tindinf; another body 
 of the enemy .approaching to attack them in rear, they took 
 refuge in a convent, and succeeded in throwing to and barring 
 the ponderous doors. The Moors attempted to force the 
 gates, but were assailed with such showers of missiles from 
 the windows and battlements that they were obliged to retire. 
 Pelistes examined the convent, and found it admirably 
 calculated for defence. It was of great extent, with spacious 
 courts and cloisters. The gates were massive, and secured 
 with bolts and bars ; the walls were of givat thickness ; the 
 windows high and grated ; there was a j;reat tank or cistern 
 of water, and the friars, who had fled from the city, had left 
 behind a good supply of provisions. Here, then, Pelisten 
 proposed to make a stand, and to endeavour to hold out until 
 succour should anive from some other city. His proposition 
 was received with shouts by his loyal cavaliers ; not one of 
 whom but was ready to lay down his life in the service 
 of his commander. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 FoF three long and anxious months did the good knight 
 Pelistes and his cavaliers defend their sacred asylum against 
 the repeated assaults of the infidels. ITie sUindard of the 
 true fuith was constantly displayed from the loftiest tower, 
 and a fire blazed there throu>{hout the night, as signals of dis- 
 tress to the surrounding country. ITic watchmim from hit 
 turret kept a wary look out over the land, hoping in every 
 cloud of dust to descry the glittering helms of Christian 
 warriors. The country, however, was forlorn and aban- 
 doned, or if perchance a human being was perccivod, it was 
 some Arab horseman, careering the ])lain of the Ctiudalquivir 
 as fearlessly as if it were his native desert. 
 
 By degrees the provisions of the convent were consumed, 
 :ind the cavaliers had to slav their horses, one bv one, for 
 foo<l. Tliey suffered the wast in j? miseries of famine without 
 ;i murmur, ami always met t!i 'ir commander with a smile. 
 i*eliste», however, read their sufferinjfs in tht'ir wan and 
 emaciated countenances, and felt mon> for them than fot him- 
 self, lie was grieved at heart that such lovalty and valour 
 
 ' 2o2 
 
 v. 
 
I! i 
 
 438 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 t j 
 
 should only lead to slavery or death, and resolved to make 
 one desperate attempt for their deliverance. Assembling 
 them one day in the court of the convent, he disclosed to 
 them his purpose. 
 
 " Comrades and brothers in arms," said he, " it is needless 
 to conceal danger from brave men. Our case is desperate : 
 our countrymen either know not or heed not our situation, or 
 have not the means to help us. There is but one chance of 
 escape ; it is full of peril, and, as your leader, I claim the 
 right to brave it. To-morrow at break of day I will sally 
 forth and make for the city gates at the moment of theii* 
 being opened ; no one will suspect a solitary horseman ; I 
 shall be tiikon for one of those recreant Christians who have 
 basely mingled with the enemy. If I succeed in getting out 
 of the city, I will hasten to Toledo for assistance. In all 
 events I shall be back in less than twenty days. Keep a 
 viirilant look-out towards the nearest mountain. If you 
 behold five lights blazing upon its summit, be assured I am 
 at liand with succour, and prepare yourselves to sally forth 
 upon the city as I attack the gates. Should I fail in obtain- 
 ing aid, I will return to die with you." 
 
 When he had finished, his Marriors would fain have seve- 
 rally undertaken tlie enterprise, and they remonstrated against 
 his exposing himself to such peril ; but he was not to be shaken 
 from his purpose. On the following morning, ere the break of 
 day, his horse was led forth, caparisoned, into the court of the 
 convent, and Pelistcs appeared in complete ai'mour. Assem- 
 bling his cavaliers in the chapel, he prayed with them for 
 some time before the altar of the holy Virgin. Then rising, 
 and standing in the midst of them, " Ood knows, my com- 
 panions," said he. *' whether we have any longer a country; 
 if not. better wei*e Me in our graves. Loyal and true have 
 ye been to nie, and loyal have ye been to my son, even to the 
 hour of his death ; and grieved am I that I hove no other 
 means of pro\-ing my love for you, than by adventuring my 
 worthless life for your deliverance. All I ask of you before 
 I go, is a solemn promise to defend yourselves to the last like 
 bravo men and Christian cavaliers, and never to renounce 
 your faith, or throw yourselves on the mercy of the rencgado 
 leagued, or the traitor Julian." They all pledged their 
 '.rords, and took a solemn oath to the some effect before the 
 altar. 
 
 P 
 
 hisl 
 for h 
 and 
 of th 
 onth 
 and t 
 tears. 
 Th( 
 Pelist 
 and m 
 the cc 
 and th 
 but n( 
 tranqui 
 at the ^ 
 <?nterin; 
 unheed( 
 of the 8 
 and at 
 the moil 
 form-ho 
 foot to 
 and beh< 
 l'hro\< 
 '■oad, an( 
 channel 
 8tumblin, 
 torn, p, 
 
 visage Wi 
 
 unable ti 
 
 Pnemy d 
 
 the renej 
 
 forth froi 
 
 ;• Well n: 
 
 in good ti 
 
 iVliste 
 
 bracing J| 
 
 though n 
 
 "parks of 
 
 "lonnfed, 
 
 alighting. 
 
SUBJUGATiON OF SPAIN. 
 
 439 
 
 make 
 mbling 
 oscd to 
 
 leedless 
 perate : 
 ition, or 
 innce of 
 aim the 
 ■ill sally 
 of theii- 
 Dinan ; I 
 rho have 
 itting out 
 ,. In all 
 
 Keep a 
 
 If you 
 ired I am 
 =ally forth 
 in obtain- 
 
 lave seve- 
 :cd against 
 be shaken 
 ae break of 
 [ourt of the 
 Assem- 
 A\ them for 
 [hen rising, 
 my com- 
 a country; 
 , true have 
 Icvcn to the 
 c no other 
 ituring tny 
 you before 
 the last like 
 B renounce 
 le renegado 
 •aged their 
 before the 
 
 Pelistcs then embraced them one by one, and gave them 
 his benediction, and as he did so his heart yearned over them, 
 for he felt towards them, not merely as a eoin{)ani()n in arms 
 and as a commander, but as a father ; and he tcok leave 
 of them as if he had been going to his death. The waniors, 
 on their part, crowded rotmd him in silence, kissing his hands 
 and the hem of his sureoat, and manv of the sternest shed 
 tears. 
 
 The grey of the dawning had just streaked the east, when 
 Pelistcs took lance in hand, hung his shield about his neck, 
 and mounting his steed, issued <[uietly forth from a postern of 
 the convent. lie paced slowly tluoiigh the vacant streets, 
 and the tramp of his steed celioed alar in that silent hour ; 
 but no one suspected a warrior, moving thus singly and 
 tranquilly in an armed city, to be an enemy. He arrived 
 at the gate just at the hour of opening ; a foraging jiarty was 
 entering with cattle and with beasts of burden, and he passed 
 unheeded through the throng. As soon as he was out o\' sight 
 of the soldiers who guarded the gate, he quickened his pace, 
 and at length, galloping at fidi speed, succeeded in gaining 
 the mountains. Here he paused, and alighted at a solitary 
 farm-house to breathe his j)auting steed ; but had scarce put 
 foot to grovnd when he lioard the distant sound of piu-suit, 
 and beheld a horseman spurring up the mountain. 
 
 Throwing himself again upon his steed, he abandoned the 
 road, and galloped across the rugged heights. The deep drj' 
 channel of a toiTcnt cheeked his career, and his horse, 
 stumbling upon the margin, rolhul with his rider to the bot- 
 tom. Pelistcs was sorely bruised bv the full, and his whole 
 visage was bat^<'d 1:1 Hood ; his horse, too, was maimeil and 
 unable to stand, so that there was no hope of escape The 
 enemy drew near, and proved to I; \o other than Afagued, 
 the renegado general, who nud perceived him us he issued 
 forth from the city, and had followed singly in piirsuit. 
 " Well met, scnor alcayde !" exclaimed he, " and overtaken 
 in good time. Surrender yourself my prisoner." 
 
 Pelistcs made no other reply than by drawing his sword, 
 bracing his shield, and preparing for defence. Magucd, 
 though an apostate, and a fierce warrior, possessed sonic 
 sjOTrks of knightly magnanimity. Seeing his adversary dis- 
 mounted, he disdained to take him at a dutadvantuge, but 
 alighting, tied his horse to a tree. 
 
 ',j 
 
440 
 
 THE C0XQUF81 OF SPAIN. 
 
 r I 
 
 The conflict tliat ensued was desperate acd doubtful, for 
 seldom had two warriors met so well match.ed or of equal 
 prowess. Their shields were hacked to pieces; the ground 
 was strewed with fragments of their armour, and stained with 
 theii' blood ; they paused repeatedly to take breath, regarding 
 each other with wonder and admiration. Pclistes, however, 
 had been previously injured by his fall, and fought to great dis- 
 advantage ; the rencgado perceived it, and sought not to slay 
 him, but to take hiiu alive. Shifting his gromid continually, 
 he wearied his antagonist, who was growing weaker and 
 weaker from the loss of blood. At length Pelistes seemed to 
 summon up all his remaining strength to make a signal blow; 
 it was skilfully parried, and he fell prostrate upoutb:.- ground. 
 The renegado ran up, and putting his foot upon his sword, and 
 the point of his scimitar to his throat, called upon him to ask 
 his Ufe, but Pelistes lay without sense, and as one dead. 
 Magued then unlaced the helmet of his vanquished enemy, and 
 seated himself on a rock beside him to recover breath ; in this 
 situation the warriors M'cre fuund by certain Moorish cava- 
 liers, who marvelled much at the traces of that stem and 
 bloody combat. 
 
 Finding there was yet life in the Christian knight, they 
 laid him ui)on one of their horses, and aiding Magued to re- 
 mount his steed, proceeded slowly to the city. Am the convoy 
 passed by the convent, the cuAaliers looked forth and beheld 
 their commander borne along bleeding and a captive. Furious 
 at the sight they sallied forth to the rescue, but were repulsed 
 by a superior force and driven back to the great portal of the 
 church. The enemy entered pell-mell with them, fighting from 
 aisle to aisle, from altar to altar, and in the courts and cloisters 
 of the convent. The greater part of the cavaliers died bravely, 
 sword in hand, the rest were disabled with wounds and made 
 prisoners. Tlie convent, which was lately their castle, was 
 now made their prison, and in after-times, in commemoration 
 of this event, was consecrated by the name of St. George of 
 the Captives. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The loyalty and prowess of the good knight Pelistes had 
 gained him the ixnerenee even of his enemies. He was for o 
 long time disabled by his wounds, during which he was kindly 
 
 treat 
 mean 
 a cap 
 him 21 
 virtue 
 Pel 
 with 
 counti 
 bled g 
 the Al( 
 ^'hristi 
 bosom 
 him in 
 accost ] 
 and dei 
 the rept 
 him as ( 
 MTiei 
 turned v 
 in great 
 Ohristiar 
 valour oi 
 the conv 
 the grief 
 devoted 
 are the d 
 to receivi 
 Juourn OT 
 fallen wit 
 witnessini 
 son, the j 
 have beh 
 around an 
 i have ecu 
 ^ will nev 
 
 W« was or 
 friend ho 
 nionts wen 
 ^ know no 
 y^'f^re laid, 
 »n the wate 
 
Mi 
 
 •UBJUOAIIOX OF SPAIN. 
 
 441 
 
 •ul, for 
 [ equal 
 grotmd. 
 jd with 
 
 garding 
 owever, 
 
 :eat dis- 
 t to slay 
 tinually, 
 iker and 
 emed to 
 lalblow; 
 . grovmd. 
 ,vord, and 
 inxto ask 
 ane dead, 
 aemy, and 
 b; iutbis 
 rish csava- 
 stern and 
 
 ight, they 
 
 ued to re- 
 lic convoy 
 
 md beheld 
 Furious 
 
 re repulsed 
 rtal of the 
 hting from 
 ad cloisters 
 ied bravelv, 
 and made 
 castle, was 
 niemoration 
 
 George of 
 
 ♦elistes had 
 
 [ic wuH for 
 
 , vs'tts kindly 
 
 treated by the Arab chieftains, who strove by everj' courteous 
 means to cheer his sadness and make hiui forget that he was 
 a captive. When he was recovered from his wounds, they gave 
 him a magnificent banquet, to teAtify thcii- admiration of his 
 virtues. 
 
 Pelistes appeared at the banquet clad in sable armour, and 
 with a countenance pale and dejected ; fur the ills of his 
 country evermore preyed upon his heart. Among the assem- 
 bled guests was Count Julian, who held a high command in 
 the Moslem army, and was arrayed in garments of mingled 
 Christian and Morisco fashion. Pelistes had been a close and 
 bosom friend of Julian in former times, and had ser\ed with 
 him in the wars in Africa ; but when the count advanced to 
 accost him with his wonted amity, he turned away in silence, 
 and deigned not to notice him ; neither, during the whole of 
 the repast, did he address to him ever a word, but treated 
 him as one unknown. 
 
 WTien the banquet was nearly at a close, the discourse 
 turned upon the events of the war, and the Moslem chieftains, 
 in great coivrtesy, dwelt upon the merits of many of the 
 Christian ca « aliers who had tallen in battle, and all extolled the 
 valour of those who had recently perished in the defence of 
 the convent. Peliste ? remained silent for a time, and checked 
 the grief which swelled within his bosom as he thought of his 
 devoted cavaliers ; at length, lifting up his voice, " Happy 
 are the dead," said he, " for they rest in peace, and are gone 
 to receive the reward of their piety and valour ! I could 
 mourn over the loss of my companions in arms, but they have 
 fallen with honour, and are 8i)ared the wretchedness I feel in 
 witnessing the thraldom of my country. I have seen my only 
 son, the pride and hope of my age, cut down at my side ; I 
 have beheld kindred friends and followei"s falling one by one 
 around me, and have become so seasoned to those losses that 
 I have ceased to weep. Yet there is one man over whose loss 
 I will never cca?..' to grieve. He was the loved companion of 
 my youtli, and the steadfast associate of my graver years. 
 He was one of the most loyal of Cliristian knights. As a 
 friend he was loving and sincere ; as a warrior his achieve- 
 ments were above nil praise. What has become of him, alas! 
 I know not. If f. iic a in battle, and I knew where his bones 
 were laid, whether hU.'aching on the plains of Xeres, or buried 
 in the waters of the Guudalete, I would seek them out and en- 
 
 ; 
 
 i 
 
442 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 n% 
 
 ';i 
 
 ' f 
 
 shrine them as the relics of a sainted patriot. Or if, like 
 many of his companions in pnns, he should be driven to wan- 
 der in foreign lands, I would join him in his hapless exile, 
 and we would mourn together over the desolation of our 
 country!" 
 
 Even the hearts of the Arab warriors were touched by the 
 lament of the goo<l Pclistes, and they said, " Who was this 
 peerless friend, in whose praise thou art so fervent?" 
 
 " His name," replied Pclistes, " was Count Julian," 
 
 The Moslem warriors stared with surprise. " Noble cava- 
 lier," exclaimed they, " has gi'ief disordered thy senses? 
 Behold thy friend living and standing before thee, and yet 
 thou dost not know him ! This, this is Count Julian ! " 
 
 Upon this Pelistcs turned his eyes upon the coimt, and re- 
 garded him for a time with a lofty and stern demeanour, and 
 the countenance of Julian darkened, and was troubled, and 
 his eye sank beneath the regard of that loyal and honourable 
 cavalier. And Pelistes said, " In the name of God, I charge 
 thee, man unknown ! to answer. Dost thou presume to call 
 thyself Count Julian ? " 
 
 The coimt reddened with anger at these words. " Pelistes," 
 said he, " what means this mockery ? Thou knowest me well ; 
 thou knowest me for Count Julian ? " 
 
 " I know thee for a base impostor ! " cried Pelistes. " Count 
 Julian was a noble Gothic knight, but thou appearest in 
 mongrel Moorish gai-b. Count Julian was a Christian, faithfid 
 and devout ; but I behold in thee a renegado and an infidel. 
 Count Julian was ever loyal to his king, and foremost in his 
 country's cause : were he living, he would be the first to put 
 shield on neck and lance in rest, to clear the land of her in- 
 vaders : — but thou art a hoary traitor ! thy hands are stained 
 with the royal blood of the Go "is, and thou hast betrayed thy 
 country and thy God. Therefore, I again repeat, man un- 
 known ! if thou sayest thou art Count Julian, thou liest I 
 My friend, alas ! is dead ; and thou art some fiend from hell, 
 which has taken possession of his body to dishonour his me- 
 mory- and render him an abhorrence among men." So saying, 
 Pelistes turned his back \ipon the traitor and went forth from 
 the banquet, leaving Count Julian overwhelmed with eou- 
 fUsion, and an object of scorn to all the Moslem cavaliers. 
 
 W 
 
 Arab 
 
 Vega 
 
 direct 
 
 the ai 
 
 So gn 
 
 in^ad( 
 
 of the 
 
 kingdc 
 
 familic 
 
 midabi 
 
 surroui 
 
 by the 
 
 warrior 
 
 the rive 
 
 One ( 
 
 the mo 
 
 certain i 
 
 him. •' 
 
 beheld t 
 he deliv( 
 to thy pi 
 importa 
 Taric 
 '^hbi, \Y. 
 
 descendej 
 
 said he 
 
 the oth( 
 
 entreat 
 
 alone, he] 
 
 host of I 
 
 of the cU 
 
 oppresses 
 
 prosperity 
 
 have take] 
 
 have com 
 
 and they 
 
 towers. 
 
 receive us] 
 
 our reh'g] 
 
SUBJUGATION OF 8PAIX. 
 
 443 
 
 if, like 
 o wan- 
 * exile* 
 of our 
 
 t by the 
 /iras this 
 
 ble cava- 
 
 ' senses? 
 
 and yet 
 
 a I 
 
 t, and re- 
 
 nour, and 
 
 ibled, and 
 
 lonourable 
 
 1, 1 chaige 
 
 me to catt 
 
 •' Pelistes," 
 Bt me well; 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 While these events were passing in Cordova, the one-eyed 
 Arab general, Taric el Tuerto, having subdued the city and 
 vega of Granada, and the Mountains of the Sun and Air, 
 directed his march into the interior of the kingdom to attack 
 the ancient city of Toledo, the capital of the Gothic kings. 
 So great was the terror cnusr-d by the rapid conquests of the 
 invaders, that, at the vi-ry rumour of their ap{>roach, many 
 of the inhabitants, thou}^h thus in tlie very citadel of the 
 kingdom, abandoned it and Hed to the mountains with their 
 families. Enough remained, howovc)', t" have made a for- 
 midable defence; and, as the city was seated on a lofty rock, 
 surrounded by massive walls and towers, aiul almost girdled 
 by the Ta^^us, it threatened a long resistance. The Arab 
 warriors pitched their tents in the vega, on the borders of 
 the river, and prepared for a tedious siege. 
 
 One evening, as Taric was seated in his tent, meditating on 
 the mode in which he should assail this rock-built city, 
 certain of the patroles of the camp brought a stranger before 
 him. " As we were going our rounds," said they, " we 
 beheld this man lowered down with cords from a tower, and 
 he delivered himself into our hands, praying to be conducted 
 to thy presence, that he might reveal to thee certain things 
 important for thee to know." 
 
 Taric fixed his eyes upon the stranger: he was a Jewish 
 rabbi, with a long beard which spread upon his gabardine, and 
 descended even to his girdle. •' What hast thou to reveal ?'* 
 said he to the Israelite. " What I have to reveal," replied 
 the other, " is i' ,r thee alone to hear : command then, I 
 entreat thee, that these men withdraw." When they were 
 alone, he addressed Taric in Arabic : " Know, O leader of the 
 host of Islam," said he, " that I am sent to thee on the part 
 of the children of Israel resident in Toledo. We have been 
 oppressed and insulted by the Christians in the time of their 
 prosperity, and now that they are threatened with siege, they 
 have taken from us all our provisions and our money; they 
 have compelled us to work like slaves, repiiiring their walls ; 
 and they oblige \\s to bear arms and guard a part of the 
 towers. We abhor their yoke, and are ready, if thou wilt 
 receive us as subjects, and permit us the free enjoyment of 
 our religion and our property, to deliver the towers we 
 
 '-'I 
 
 t , 
 
 \ I. 
 
1 
 
 f i, 
 
 51 
 
 1/ \l 
 
 f! 
 
 444 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPA.IN. 
 
 guard into thy hands, and to give thee safe entrance into the 
 city." 
 
 The Arab chief was overjoyed at tliis proposition, and he 
 rendered much honour to the rabbi, and gave orders to 
 clothe him in a costly robe, and to perfume his beard with 
 essences of a pleasant odour, so that he was the most sweet 
 smelling of his tribe ; and he said, " Make thy words good, 
 and put me in possession of the city, and I will do all and 
 more than thou hast required, and will bestow countless 
 wealth upon thee and thy brethren." 
 
 Then a plan was devised between them by which the city 
 was to be betrayed and given up. '• But how shall I be 
 secured," said he, " that all thy tribe will fulfil what thou 
 hast engaged, and that this is not a stratagem to get me and 
 my people into your power ?" 
 
 "This shall be thy assuitmce," replied the rabbi: "ten of 
 the principal Israelites will come to this tent and remain as 
 hastages." 
 
 "It is enough," said Taric; and he made oath to accom- 
 plish nil that he had jiromised; and the Jewish hostages 
 came and delivered themselves into his hands. 
 
 On a dark night, a chosen band of Moslem warriors ap- 
 proached the part of the walls guarded by the Jews, and 
 were sccictly admitted into a postern gate and concealed 
 within a tower. Three thousand Arabs were at the same 
 time placed in ambush nmong rocks and thickets, in a place on 
 the opjKJsite side of the river, commanding a view of the city. 
 On the following morning Taric ravaged the gardens of the 
 valley, and set fire to the farm-houses, and then breaking up 
 his camp, marched off as if abandoning the siege. 
 
 The people of Toledo gazed with astonishment from their 
 walls at the retiring squadrons of the enemy, and scarcely 
 could credit their unexpected deliverance ; before night, there 
 was not a turban nor a hostile Innce to be seen in the vega. 
 They attributed it all to the special intervention of theii" 
 patron saint, Leocadia; and the following day being Palm 
 Sunday, they sallied f^^h in procession, man, woman, and 
 child, to the church ol that blessed saint, M'hich is situated 
 without the walls, that they might return thanks for her 
 marvellous protection. 
 
 When all Tole<lo had thus poured itself forth, and was 
 inarching with cross and relic and soleran chaunt towards the 
 
 chape 
 rushe< 
 guard( 
 streets 
 fire an 
 At sigi 
 rose w] 
 throng 
 naassac 
 no resii 
 the apo 
 prey, ai 
 says Ft 
 turpituc 
 rancour 
 world, V 
 Many 
 and had 
 should I 
 within U 
 in time 
 ordered i 
 and exU 
 were per 
 and effe( 
 allowed t 
 churches, 
 erecting 
 Were sufR 
 any of th< 
 Immen 
 castle, sit 
 the city, 
 were twe 
 jacynths. 
 These wei 
 Kiigned in 
 each king 
 on it his n 
 
 When 
 came to 
 
SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 
 
 445 
 
 ito the 
 
 and he 
 lers to 
 rd with 
 t sweet 
 a good, 
 all and 
 ountlcss 
 
 the city 
 
 all I he 
 
 lat thou 
 
 ine ond 
 
 " ten of 
 cmain as 
 
 ;o accom- 
 hostages 
 
 ^noTs ap- 
 ews, and 
 concealed 
 the same 
 place on 
 f the city, 
 ns of the 
 leaking up 
 
 from their 
 scarcely 
 [ght, there 
 the vega. 
 of theii- 
 jing Pahn 
 [)inan, and 
 ^8 situated 
 ts for her 
 
 and was 
 )ward8 the 
 
 chapel, the Arahs, who had heen concealed in the tower, 
 rushed forth and barred the ^ates of the cit)'. While some 
 guarded the gates, others dispersed themselves about the 
 streets, slaying all who made resistance ; and others kindled a 
 fire and made a column of smoke on the top of the citadel. 
 At sight of this signal the Arabs, in ambush beyond the river, 
 rose with a great shout, and attacked the multitude w^ho were 
 thronging to the church of St. Lcocadia. Thei-e was a great 
 massacre, although the people were without arms, and mcide 
 no resistance; and it is said, in ancient chronicles, that it was 
 the apostate Bishop Oppas who guided the Moslems to their 
 prey, and incited them to this slaughter. " The pious reader," 
 says Fray Antonio Agapida, " will be slow to believe such 
 turpitude; but there is nothing more venomous than the 
 rancour of an apostate priest; for the best things in this 
 world, when corrupted, become the worst and most baneful." 
 
 Many of the Christians had tiiken refuge within the church, 
 and had barred the doors; but Oppas commanded that fire 
 should be set to the portals, threatening to put every one 
 within to the sword. Happily the veteran Taric arrived just 
 in time to stay the fury of this reverend renegado. He 
 ordered the trumpets to call off the troops from the carnage, 
 and extended grace to all the surv'iving inhabitants. They 
 were permitted to remain in quiet possession of their homes 
 and effects, paying only a moderate tribute; and they were 
 allowed to exercise the rites of their religion in the existing 
 churches, to the number of seven, but were prohibited from 
 erecting any others. T'hose who preferred to leave the city 
 were suffered to depart in safety, but not to take with them 
 any of their wealth. 
 
 Immense spoil was found by Turic in the alcazar, or royal 
 castle, situated on a rocky eminence, in the highest part of 
 the city. Among the i*egalia treasured up in a secret chamber, 
 were twenty-five regal crowns of fine gold, garnished with 
 jacynths, amethysts, diamonds, and other precious stones. 
 These were the crowns of the different Gothic kings who had 
 reigned in Spain; it having been the usage, on the death of 
 each king, to deposit his cro^^-n in this treasury', inscribing 
 on it his name and age.* 
 
 When Taric was thus in possession of the city, the Jews 
 came to him in procession with songs and dances, and the 
 * Condc, Hist, dc las Arabcs ca EupaAu, cap. 12. 
 
 '1 
 
 ■ I 
 
 It 
 
 SI 
 I 
 
 ¥ 
 
446 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 "IJ; 
 
 sound of timbrel and psaltciy, Lailing him as their lord, and 
 remJnding him of his promises. 
 
 Tne son of Ishmael kept his word with the children of 
 Israel: they were protected in the possession of all their 
 wealth, and the exercise of their religion ; and were, moreover, 
 rewarded with jewels of gold, and jewels of silver, and much 
 monies.* 
 
 A subsequent expedition was led by Taric against Gua- 
 dalaxara, which surrendered without resistance : he moreover 
 captured the city of Medina Ccli, where he found an inestima- 
 ble table which had formed a part of the spoil taken at Rome 
 by Alaric, at the time that the sacred city was conquered by 
 the Goths. It was composed of one single and entire emerald, 
 and possessed talismanic powers; for tradition affirms that it 
 was the work of genii, and had been wrought by them for 
 King Solomon the Wise, the son of David. This marvellous 
 relic was carefully preser\'cd by Taric, as the most precious 
 of all his spoils, being intended by him as a present to the 
 caliph ; and in commemoration of it, the city was called by 
 the Arabs, Medina Almeyda; that is to say, "The City of the 
 Table."t 
 
 Having made these and other conquests of less importance, 
 and having collected gicat quantities of gold and silver, and 
 rich BtnSs and precious stones, Taric returned with his booty 
 to the royal city of Toledo. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Let us leave for a season the bold Taric in his triumphant 
 progress from city to city, while we turn our eyes to Muza 
 ben Nozier, the renowned emir of Almagreb, and the com- 
 mander-in-chief of the Moslem forces of the west. When that 
 jealous chieftain had despatched his letter commanding Taric 
 
 * The stratagem of the Jews of Toledo is recorded briefly by Bishop 
 Lucas de Tuy, in his chronicle, but is related at large in the chronicle of 
 the Moor Rasis. 
 
 t According to Arabian legends, this table was a mirror revealing all 
 great events; insomuch that by looking on it the possessor might 
 behold battles, and sieges, and feat« of chivalry, and all actions worthy of 
 renown ; and might thus ascertain the truth of all historic transactions. 
 It was a mirror of history, therefore, and had very probably aided King 
 Solomon in acquiring that prodigious knowledge and wisdom for wbicE 
 he was renowned. 
 
 to pat 
 
 parati 
 
 take ( 
 
 son, A 
 
 Weste 
 
 youth, 
 
 the en^ 
 
 Muz 
 
 chosen 
 
 Arabs i 
 
 Meruar 
 
 cavaliei 
 
 legions 
 
 to the ( 
 
 disobed] 
 
 his arri^ 
 
 and wit] 
 
 the nobl 
 
 The j 
 
 these tid 
 
 coadjuto] 
 
 glory; I 
 
 deration, 
 
 actual cc 
 
 jugated. 
 
 Taking 
 
 he set 01 
 
 been visi: 
 
 the anciei 
 
 but was 
 
 many of t 
 
 into it. 
 
 The Go 
 they had 
 and their 
 after the 
 cavaliers 
 of day, fe 
 hundred o 
 the city ; 
 
 honourabh 
 On the 
 

 SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 
 
 447 
 
 I, and 
 
 rcn of 
 [ their 
 reover, 
 imuch 
 
 3t Gua- 
 loreovcr 
 lestima- 
 it Borne 
 iiered by 
 emerald, 
 IS that it 
 them for 
 larvellous 
 , precious 
 jnt to the 
 called by 
 :ityofthe 
 
 nportance, 
 yer, and 
 bis booty 
 
 riumphant 
 les toMuza 
 dthe com- 
 "When that 
 nding Taric 
 
 fly by Bishop 
 ,e chronicle of 
 
 »■ revealing all 
 ssesBor inigW 
 ,ion8 worthy ol 
 [c tranaactionB. 
 Ily aided &ng 
 'lom for which 
 
 to pause and await his coming, he immediately made every pre- 
 paration to enter Spain with a powerful reinforcement, and to 
 take command of the conquering army, lie left his eldest 
 son, Abdalasis, in Cacrvan, with authority over Almagreb, or 
 Western Africa. This Abdalasis was in the flower of his 
 youth, and beloved by the soldiery for the magnanimity and 
 the engaging affability which graced his courage. 
 
 Muza ben Nozier crossed the strait of Hercules with a 
 chosen force of ten thousand horse and eight thousand foot, 
 Arabs and Africans. He was accompanied by his two sons, 
 Meruan and Abdelola, and by numerous illustrious Arabian 
 cavaliers of the tribe of Kovcish. He landed his shining 
 legions on the coast of Andalusia, and pitched his tents near 
 to the Guadiana. There first he received intelligence of the 
 disobedience of Taric to his orders, and that, without waiting 
 his arrival, the impetuous chieftain had continued his career, 
 and with his light Arab squadrons had overrun and subdued 
 the noblest provinces and cities of the kingdom. 
 
 The jealous spirit of Muza was still more exasperated by 
 these tidings : he looked upon Taric no longer as a friend and 
 coadjutor, but as an invidious rival, the decided enemy of his 
 glory; and he determined on his ruin. His first consi- 
 deration, however, was to secure to himself a share in the 
 actual conquest of the land, before it should be entirely sub- 
 jugated. 
 
 Taking guides, therefore, from among his Christian captives, 
 he set out to subdue such parts of the country as had not 
 been visited by Taric. ITie first place which he assailed was 
 the ancient city of Carmona : it was not of great magnitude, 
 but was fortified with high walls and massive towers, and 
 many of the fugitives of the late army had thrown themselves 
 into it. 
 
 The Goths had by this time recovered from their first panic ; 
 they had become accustomed to the sight of Moslem troops, 
 and their native courage had been roused by danger. Shortly 
 after the Arabs had encamped before their walls, a band of 
 cavaliers made a sudden sally one morning before the break 
 of day, fell upon the enemy by surprise, killed above three 
 hundred of them in their tents, and effected their retreat into 
 the city ; leaving twenty of their number dead, covered with 
 honourable wounds, and in the very centre of the camp. 
 On the following day they made another sally, and fell on a 
 
 
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 TBE C0XQVE8T OF SPAIK. 
 
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 i 
 
 ^ff^rent quarter of the encampment ; bnt the Arabs were <m 
 their guard, and met them with superior number*. After 
 fighting fiercely for a time, they were routed, and fled ftiU 
 need for the city, with the Arabs hard upon their traces, 
 "nie guards within feared to open the gate, lest with their 
 friend they should admit a torrent of enemies. Seeing them- 
 selves thus fthut out, the fugitives determined to die like br^yc 
 soldiers rather than surrender. Wheeling suddenly round, 
 they opened a path through the host of their pursuers, fou^t 
 their way back to the camp, and raged about it with desperate 
 fury until they were all slain, after having killed above eight 
 hundred of the enemy.* 
 
 Muaa now ordered that the place should be taken by storm. 
 The Moslems assailed it on all sides, but were vigorously 
 resisted ; many were slain by showers of stones, arrows, and 
 boiling piteh, and many who had mounted with scaling ladders 
 were thrown headlong from the battlements. The aleayde, 
 Oalo, aided solely by two men, defended a tower and a portion 
 of the wall ; killing and wounding with a cross-bow more 
 than eighty of the enemy. The attack lasted above half a 
 day, when the Moslems were repulsed with the loss of fifteen 
 hundred men. 
 
 Muza was astonished and exasperated at meeting with such 
 formidable resistance from so small a city ; for it was one of 
 the few places, during that memorable conquovt, where the 
 Gothic valour shone forth with its proper lustre. While the 
 Moslem army lay encamped before the place, it was joined by 
 Magued the renegade and Count Julian the traitor, with one 
 thousand horsemen ; most of them recreant Christians, base 
 betrayers of their country, and more savage in their warfiure 
 than the Arabs of the desert To find favour in the eyes of 
 Muxa, and to evince his devotion to the cause, the count 
 undertook, by wily stratagem, to put this gallant city in his 
 power. 
 
 One evening, just at twilight, a number of Christians, 
 habited as travelling merchants, arrived at one of the gates, 
 conducting a train of mules laden with arms and wiuiike 
 monitions. '* Open the gate quickly," cried the^ ; "we bring 
 sullies tor the pparrison* but the Arabs have discovrrcd, ana 
 are in pursuit of us." The gate was thrown open ; the mer> 
 chante entered witb their beaste of burden, and were joyftiUy 
 • / bvloMiaL Peitiila de ftrafla, Ub. I o. 191 
 
 recei 
 
 after 
 
 quart 
 
 Th 
 
 of his 
 
 Mlent] 
 
 called 
 
 unsus] 
 
 and, tl 
 
 Arabs. 
 
 sound 
 
 The A] 
 
 meneee 
 
 WCT© yn 
 
 the coi 
 
 pUIagei 
 
 the snr 
 
 noWyre 
 
 the trea< 
 
 Afte] 
 noble pi 
 wudens. 
 On tho h 
 surroiindi 
 l^ndersta 
 of its you 
 
 afUntresI 
 
 within 
 
 made up 
 
 OMauItsQ 
 
 courage 
 
 superior f< 
 
 hope of b( 
 
 Jjl cavali* 
 
 bled the w 
 
 city." 
 
 P'oienie 
 *«tiiscut 
 •Citl 
 
 
8UBJUOATIOX or SPAIST. 
 
 4i» 
 
 ere oa 
 After 
 
 edftiU 
 traces* 
 ;h their 
 ^them- 
 ebr^ve 
 round, 
 .fought 
 esperate 
 pe eight 
 
 y storm, 
 goroosly 
 
 ^ladders 
 iJcayde, 
 a portioa 
 ow more 
 ive half a 
 tif fifteen 
 
 with such 
 ras oae of 
 where the 
 While the 
 joined hy 
 , with one 
 ianiuhaM 
 warfcre 
 eyearf 
 
 khc COWBt 
 
 city in hii 
 
 the g»tet, 
 
 warlike 
 
 'webww 
 
 Fi«d,a«l 
 
 the mer* 
 
 joyfoUy 
 
 received. Meat and drink wcro t^ced before them ; and 
 after they had rcfrcHhed thcnuelves, they retired to the 
 quarters allotted to them. 
 
 These pretended merchants were Count Julian and a number 
 of his partisans. At the hour of midnight they stole forth 
 idlently, and assembling together, proceeded to what was 
 called the gate of Ck)rdovn. Here setting suddenly upon tho 
 unsuspecting giuirds, they put them to the edge of the sword, 
 and, throwing open tho gates, admitted a great body of the 
 Arabs. The inhabitants were roused from their sleep by 
 sound of drum and trumpet, and the clattering of horses. 
 The Arabs scoured tho streetfi ; a horrible massacre was com- 
 menced, in which none were spared but such of the females aa 
 were young and beautiful, and fitted to grace the harema of 
 the conquerors. The arrival oi Muza put an end to the 
 pillage and the slaughter, and he granted favourable terms to 
 the survivors. Thus the valiant little city of Carmona, after 
 nobly resisting the open assaidts of the infidels, fell a victim to 
 the treachery of apostate Christians.* 
 
 CILAPTER VIII. 
 
 Aftek the capture of Carmona, Mum descended into a 
 noble plain, covered with fields of grain, with orchards and 
 jmrdens, through which glided the Hoft>flowing Qiuidalquivir. 
 On tho borders of the river stood the ancient city of ScviUe* 
 surroimded by Roman walls, and defended by its golden tower. 
 Understandii^ fVom his spies that the city had lost the flower 
 of its youth in the battle or the Guadalete, Muza anticipated but 
 a flunt resistaneo. A considerable force, however, still remained 
 within the place, and what they wanted in numbers they 
 made up in resolution. For some days they withatood the 
 assaults of the enemy, and defended their walls with great 
 nourage. Their want of warlike munitions, however, and tho 
 superior force and skill of the besieging anny, left them no 
 hope of being able to hold out long. There were two yooth- 
 ftd cavaliers of uncommon vakmr in the city. They assem- 
 Ued the warriors and address e d them. " We cannot save the 
 city," said Uiey, ** but at least we may save ourtehres, an4 
 Draaerve so many strong arma for the service of oor country. 
 Lot na cut our way through the infidel force and gain some 
 * Cron. Oen. de EspaAs, por Akmao el Sabio, p. Ui. osp. 1. 
 
450 
 
 THE COXQVEST OT SPAIIT. 
 
 secure fortress, from whence wo may return with augmented 
 numbers for the rescue of the city." 
 
 llie advice of the young cavaliers was adopted. In the 
 dead of the night the garrison assembled, to the number of 
 about three thousand ; the most part mounted on horseback. 
 Suddenly sallying from one of the gates, they rushed in a 
 compact body upon the camp of the Saracens, which was neg- 
 ligently guarded; for the Moslems expected no such act of 
 desperation, llie camp was a scene of great carnage and 
 confusion ; many were slain on both sides ; the two valiant 
 leaders of the Christians fell covered with wounds, but the 
 main body succeeded in forcing their way through the centre 
 of the army, and in making their retreat to Beja in Lusitania. 
 
 Muza was at a loss to know the meaning of this desperate 
 sally. In the morning he perceived the gates of the city wide 
 open. A number of ancient and venerable men presented 
 themselves at liis tent, offering submission and miploring 
 mercy; for none were left in the place but the old, the infirm, 
 and the miscrnble. Muza listened to them with compassion, 
 and granted their prayer ; and the only tribute he exacted 
 was three measures of wheat and three of barley from each 
 house or family. He placed a garrison of Arabs in the city, 
 and left there a number of Jews to form a body of population. 
 Having thus secured two important places in Andalusia, he 
 passed the boundaries of the province, and advanced with 
 great martial pomp into Lusitania. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The army of Muza was now augmented to about eighteen 
 thousand horsemen ; but he took with him but few foot sol- 
 diers, leaving them to garrison the conquered towns. He 
 met with no resistance on his entrance into Lusitania. City 
 after city laid its keys at his feet, and implored to be received 
 in peaceful vassalage. One city alone prepared for vigorous 
 derence, the ancient Merida, a place of great extent, un- 
 counted riches, and prodigious strength. A noble Goth 
 named Sacarus was the governor; a man of consummate 
 wisdom, patriotism, and valour. Hearing of the approach of | 
 the invaders, he gathered within the walls all the people of | 
 the surrounding eoimtry, with their horses and mules, their 
 ficoks and herc^, and most precious effects. To insure for a i 
 
 Ion 
 
 Sd 
 
 abc 
 V 
 
 8tru< 
 
 in si 
 
 extei 
 
 •doru 
 
 the ei 
 
 and oi 
 
 who sj 
 
 Seei 
 
 Would 
 
 Resent 
 
 all the 
 
 Afauriti: 
 
 ^WhiJ, 
 
 the city 
 
 »ally fot 
 
 <^inman< 
 
 a count 
 
 '''unicatt 
 
 out the 
 
 P^parim 
 
 'esoundei 
 
 5P be riot, 
 
 As the nij 
 
 '^^ silend 
 
 «eep after 
 
 ..'"the; 
 
 "uently ] 
 
 ■ ^eep stoii 
 pass. Th 
 
 «J»Proaeh o] 
 About 
 
 l««wmbled. 
 !• Gothic 
 •oJemo 
 
SVBJTJOATXOK OV tPAXlT. 
 
 451 
 
 a the 
 jer of 
 ebacV. 
 i in » 
 iiaiicg- 
 
 act of 
 ge and 
 
 yaUant 
 but the 
 ,e centtc 
 vusiiania. 
 lesperate 
 
 city ^idc 
 presented 
 
 imploring 
 ^e infinn* 
 unpasaion, 
 le exacted 
 from each 
 the city» 
 Qulation. 
 Jufiia, he 
 iced with 
 
 Lt eighteen 
 U foot. Bol- 
 o^ns. He 
 ania. City 
 be receivca 
 for Tigprons 
 I extent, tin- 
 nohle Ooih 
 consummate 
 '.approach of 
 
 , insure for a | 
 
 _ time a supply of bread, he filled the mi^^annes with 
 
 Eun, and erected windmills on the churches. This done, he 
 d waste the surrounding country to a great extent, so that 
 a bending army would have to encamp m a desert. 
 
 When Muza came in sight of this magnificent city, he wan 
 struck with admiration. He remained for some time gnnng 
 in silence upon its mighty walls and lordly towers, itH vast 
 extent, and the stately palacet* and temples with which it wao 
 adorned. " Surely," cried he, at length, ** all the people of 
 the earth have combined their power and skill to embellish 
 and aggrandise this city. Allah Achbar ! Happy will he be 
 who uiall have the glory of making such a conquest !" 
 
 Seeing that a place so populous and so strongly fortified 
 would be likely to maintain a long and formidable resistonoe, 
 he sent messengers to Africa to his son Abdalasis, to collect 
 all the forces that could be spared from the garrisons of 
 Mauritania, and to hasten and reinforce him. 
 
 While Muza was forming his encampments, deserters from 
 the city brought him word that a chosen band intended to 
 sally forth at midnight and surprise his camp. The Arab 
 commander immediately took measures to receive them with 
 a counter surprise. Having formed his ])lan, and coin- 
 municated it to his principal officers, he ordered that, through- 
 out the day, there should be kept up an appearance of 
 negligent confusion in his encampment. The outposts wore 
 fe^ly guarded; fires were lighted in various places, ns if 
 preparing for feasting ; bursts of music and shouts of revelry 
 resounded from different quarters, and the whole camp seemed 
 to be rioting in careless seciirity on the pimider of the land. 
 As the night advanced, the fires were gradually extinguished, 
 and silence ensued, as if the soldiery hud sunk into deep 
 sleep after the carousal. 
 
 In the meantime, bodies of troops had been secretly and 
 silently marched to reinforce the out-posts ; and the renegado 
 Magued, with a numerous force, had formed an ambuscade in 
 a deep stone quarry, by which the Christians would have to 
 pass. These preparations being made, they awaited the 
 approach of the enemy in breathless silence. 
 
 About midnight, the chosen force intended for the sally 
 
 1 assembled, and the command was confided to Count Tcndero, 
 
 a Gothic cavalier of tried prowess. After having heard a 
 
 solemn mass, and received the benediction of the priest, they 
 
 ' 2 TI 
 
45S 
 
 Ija OONQUSST OF SPAXir. 
 
 ■uurched out of the gate with all poaeible ailence. Thej were 
 ■uflfored to pass the ambuscade in the quany without moleala* 
 lion: as &ey approached the Moslem camp, overjrthii^ 
 appeared quiet ; for the foot soldiers were concealed in sk^iea 
 •na hollows, and every Arab horseman lay in his armour 
 beside his steed. The sentinels on the out.posts waited until 
 tile Christians were close at hand, and th«a fled in apparent 
 oonstemation. 
 
 C!ount Tendcro gave the signal for assault, and the Christians 
 nudied confidently forward. In an instant an uproar of 
 drums, trunq>ets, and shrill ^ar-cries burst forth from every 
 aide. An army seemed to spring up from the earth ; squad- 
 Toos of horse came thundenng on them in front, while the 
 quarry poured forth legions of armed warriors in their rear. 
 
 The noise of the ternfic conflict that took place, was heard 
 on the city walls, and answered by shouts of exultation ; for 
 the Christians thought it rose from the terror and conftisiam 
 of the Arab camp. In a little while, however, they were 
 undeceived by fugitives from the %ht, aghast with terror, 
 and covered with wounds. ** Hell itself," cried they, *•*■ is 
 on the side of these infidels ; the earth casts forth warriors 
 and steeds to aid them. We have fought, not with men, but 
 derik!" 
 
 The greater pait of the chosen troops who had sallied, 
 were cut to pieces in that sceue of massacre, for they had 
 been confounded by the tempest of battle which suddenly 
 broke forth around them. Count Tendero fought with 
 desperate valour, and fell covered with wounds. His body 
 was found the next morning, lying among the slain, and 
 transpierced with half a score of lances, llie renegade 
 Magued cut ofi" his head and tied it to the tail of his hone, 
 and repaired M'ith this savage trophy to the tent of Mua ; 
 but the hostility of the Arab general was of a less malignant 
 kind. He ordered that the head and body should be juaoed 
 together upon a bier, and treated with beccmung reverence. 
 
 In the course of the day, a train of priests and friars came 
 Ibrth from the city to request permission to seek for the body 
 of the coimt. Muza delivered it to them, with many soldier- 
 like encomiums on the valour of that good cavaher. The 
 jpriests covered it with a pall of cloth of gold, and bote it 
 Saak in melancholy procession to the eity, where it was 
 laoMTtd with loud uuueatations. 
 
 tbei 
 
 to be 
 
 from 
 
 •true 
 
 actiw 
 
 the t 
 
 bread 
 
 Moxa 
 
 he Wo 
 
 for a t 
 
 The 
 
 of thei 
 
 constn 
 
 walls, \ 
 
 a clamc 
 
 tocapit 
 
 Thei 
 
 for thej 
 
 <M»ewho 
 
 ment,tl 
 
 hair, as 
 
 had past 
 day in 
 
 Deasand 
 "Whi 
 Mdors o 
 the verg« 
 we can ; 
 greybear 
 They 1 
 who seen 
 ^ terms 
 thought I 
 ants. A 
 
 Abdalasis 
 of his reii 
 and a hos 
 M he man 
 '^anior wi 
 
SUBJUOATIOIV OF SPAIN. 
 
 4n 
 
 J were 
 
 rythiBg 
 itlopei 
 nxvoovit 
 ed until 
 ipptfent 
 
 brittiaDB 
 proor of 
 m every 
 ; squad- 
 whttc the 
 ir rear. 
 Hras beard 
 
 ition; for 
 conftuii<A 
 they were 
 iih terror, 
 they, ;*» 
 ^h warrioCT 
 X men, but 
 
 ad nllied, 
 ,r they bad 
 1 suddenly 
 (ught with 
 
 Hisbody 
 slain, and 
 
 renegade 
 If bis bone, 
 
 of Musa; 
 „ malignant 
 idbei^ced 
 
 sycrcnce. 
 friars came 
 
 for the body 
 lany soldier- 
 talier. The 
 land boce it 
 it wo» 
 
 Tbe riege was now pressed with great Tigour, and repoftted 
 aanroltB were made, but in vain. Musa saw at Icngu Hmt 
 the walls were too high to be scaled, and the gates too stronc 
 to be burst open without the aid of engines ; and he desisted 
 from the attack until machines for the purpose could be c<»i- 
 atmcted. The governor suspected ttom this cessation of 
 active warfare, that the enemy flattered themselves to reduce 
 the place by ihmine ; he caused, therefore, large baskets of 
 bread to be thrown from the wall, and sent a messenger to 
 Muza to inform him that il' his army should be in want of Inead, 
 he would supply it, having suflnieient com in his granaries 
 fbfr a ten years' siege.* 
 
 The citizens, however, did not possess the undaunted spirit 
 of tiieir governor. When they found that the Moslems were 
 constructmg tremendous engines for the destruction of their 
 walls, they lost all courage, und, surrounding the governor in 
 a clamorous multitude, compi^lled him to send forth persons 
 to capitulate. 
 
 The ambassadors came into the presence of Muza with awe ; 
 lor they expected to find a fierce and formidable warrior in 
 one who had filled the land with terror : but, to their astonish- 
 ment, they beheld an ancient and venerable man, with white 
 hair, a snowy beard, and a pale, emaciated countenance. He 
 had passed tiic previous night without sleep, and had been all 
 day in the field : he was exhausted, therefore, by watchful- 
 ness and fittigue ; and his garments were covered with dust. 
 
 *' What a devil of a man is this," murmured the ambas- 
 sadors one to another, *' to undertake such a siege when on 
 the verge of the grave ! Let us defend our city the best way 
 we can ; surely we can hold out longer thnn the life of this 
 grOTbeaid." 
 
 They returned to the city, therefore, scoffing at an invader 
 who seemed fitter to lean on a crutch than wield a lance ; and 
 the terms offered by Muza, which would othr^:^'iHC have been 
 tiioii^t favourable, were scomfUrv rejected by the inhabit- 
 ants. A few days put an end to this mistaken confidence. 
 Abdalasis, the son of Muza, arrived from Africa, at the head 
 of his reinforcement : he brought seven thousand horsemen, 
 and a host c^ Barbary archers ; and made a glorious dis^y 
 aa he marched into the camp. The arrival of tbiu youthftd 
 warrior was hailed with great acclamations ; no much had he 
 • Dicds, Cronies, Ub. IL cap. 11. 
 
 2 u 2 
 
454 
 
 I'HE CONQUEST OF SFAIX. 
 
 won the hearts of the soldiery by the firankness, and suavity, 
 and generosity of his conduct. Immediately after his axrival, 
 a grand assault was made upon the city ; and several of the 
 huffe battering engines being finished, they were wheeled up, 
 and began to thunder against the walls. 
 
 The unsteady populace were again seized with terror ; and, 
 surrounding their governor with fresh clamours, obliged him 
 to send forth ambassadors a second time to treat of a sur- 
 render. When admitted to the presence of Muza, the ambas- 
 sadors could scarcely believe their eyes ; or that this was the 
 same withered, white-headed old man, of whom they had 
 lately spoken with scoffing. His hair and beard were tinged 
 of a ruddy brown ; his countenance was refreshed by repose, 
 and flushed with indignation ; and he appeared a man in the 
 matured vigour of his days. The ambassadors were struck 
 with awe. " Surely," whispered they, one to the other, 
 *' this must be either a devil or a magician, who can thus 
 make himself old and young at pleasure ! " 
 
 Muza received them haughtily. " Hence ! '* said he, " and 
 tell your people I grant them the same terms I have already 
 profiered, provided the city be instantly surrendered ; but, 
 by the head of Mahomet, if there be any further delay, not 
 one mother s son of ye shall receive mercy at my hands !" 
 
 The deputies returned into the city pale and dismayed. 
 *'Go forth! go forth!" cried they, '*and accept whatever 
 terms are offered : of what avail is it to fight against men 
 who can renew their youth at plensuro } Behold, we left the 
 leader of the infidels an old and feeble man, and to-day we 
 find him youthfiil and vigorous !"* 
 
 The place was, therefore, surrcudei-cd forthwith, and Muza 
 entered it in triumph. His terms >vcre merciful. Those 
 who chose to remain were protected in iiersons, possessions, 
 and religion: ho < took the property of those only who aban- 
 doned the city, or had fallen in battle ; together with all 
 arms, and horses, and the treasures and omonlents of the 
 churches. Among these sacred spoils was found a cup, made 
 of a single pearl, which a king of Spain, in ancient times, 
 had brought from the temple of Jerusalem when it was 
 destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar, lids prize was presented by 
 
 * Conde, p. i. cap. 13. Ambrosio de Morales.— N.B. In tb« Chronicle 
 of Spain, compoMd by order of Alooxo the Wise, this anecdote is giroi 
 as having happened at Uie aiege of Seville. 
 
 "%; 
 
 Sacai 
 
 laude 
 
 uith< 
 
 whicli 
 
 hands 
 
 admir 
 
 iarhii 
 
 H7 
 
 have ] 
 
 vassal 
 
 bendti 
 
 •elf to 
 
 thedox 
 
 who d 
 
 •eckso] 
 
 free ex 
 
 jMlgrinu 
 
 Am 
 
 tohisca 
 
 had been 
 other in 
 been ens 
 While t 
 ■onofM 
 tenance. 
 ^^er, ai 
 lord and: 
 count th< 
 donenott 
 '■©turn to 
 Ask me of 
 
■Mii^MlllMillMI 
 
 ■VBJVOATION or SFAIX. 
 
 455 
 
 lavity, 
 jfriviil* 
 of the 
 Led up, 
 
 r; and, 
 ed bin 
 f aiur- 
 ambas- 
 was tbe 
 [ley bad 
 e tinged 
 ' repose* 
 m io ibe 
 e Btmck 
 le other, 
 cft n thus 
 
 Muxa to the caliph, and placed in the principal mosque of the 
 ei^ of Damascus.* 
 
 Muza knew how to esteem merit even in an enemy. When 
 Sacarus, the governor of Merida, appeared before him, ho 
 lauded him greatly for the skill and courage he had displayed 
 in the defence of his city ; and, taking off his own scimitar, 
 which wa4 of great value, girded it upon him with his own 
 hands. *i Wear this," said he, *' as a poor memorial of my 
 admiration ; a soldier of such virtue and valour ia worthy of 
 fiur higher honours." 
 
 He would have engaged the governor in his service, or 
 have persuaded him to remain in the city, as an illustrious 
 vassal of the caliph ; but the noble-minded Sacarus refiised to 
 bend to the yoke of the conquerors ; nor could he bring him- 
 self to reside contentedly in his country, when subjected to 
 the domination of the infidels. Gathering together all those 
 who chose to accompany him into exile, he embarked, to 
 seek some country where he might live in peace, and in the 
 free exercise of his religion. What shore these oceon- 
 pilgrims landed upon has never been revealed ; but tradition 
 vaguely gives us to believe that it was some unknown island, 
 fiur in uie bosom of the Atlantic.f 
 
 CHAPTER T. 
 
 AnxB the capture of Merida, Mu:* < gave a grand banquet 
 to his captains and distinguished woiriors in that magnificent 
 eity. At this martial feast were many Arab cavaUei's who 
 bad been present in various battles ; and they vied with each 
 other in recounting the daring enterprises in which they had 
 been engaged, and the splendid triumphs they had witnessed. 
 MThile they talked with ardour and exultation, Abdalasis, the 
 son of Muza, alone kept silence, and sat with a dejected coun. 
 tenance. At length when there was a pause, he turned to his 
 fiither, and addressed him with modest earnestness. '* My 
 lord and fiither," said he, ** I blush to hear your warriors re- 
 count the toils and dangers they have passed, while I have 
 done nothing to entitle me to their companionship. When I 
 return to E^rpt, and present myself before the caliph, he will 
 ask me of my ser^dces in Spaiu ; what battle I have gained ; 
 
 * Msrmol. Deacrip. de Africa, t. i. lib. 2. 
 
 t AbaloMim, Perdids de Eipa&a, lib. i. cap. 13. 
 
456 
 
 TH£ CONQUEST OF SVAIV. 
 
 
 what town or castle I have taken. How shall I answer himf 
 If you love me, then, as your son, give me a command ; in- 
 trust to me an enterprise ; and let me acquire a name worthy 
 to be mentioned amone men." 
 
 The eyes of Muza kindled with joy at finding Abdalaab 
 thus ambitious of renown in arms. " Allah be praised !" ez-> 
 claimed he ; " the heart of my son is in the right place. It 
 is becoming in youth to look upward, and be aspiring. Thy 
 desire, Abdalasis, shall be gratified." 
 
 An opportunity at that very time presented itself, to prove 
 the prowess and discretion of the youth. During the si^e 
 of Merida, the Christian troops which had taken refiige at 
 Beja had reinforced themselves from Penaflor, and, suddenly 
 returning, had presented themselves before the gates of the 
 city of ^ville.* Certain of the Christian inhabitants threw 
 <n>en the gates and admitted them. The troops rushed to the 
 alcacar, took it by surprise, and put many of the Moslem 
 garrison to the sword : the residue made their escape, and 
 led to the Arab camp before Merida, leaving Seville in the 
 hands of the Christians. 
 
 The veteran Musa, now that the siege of Merida was at an 
 end, was meditating the recapture and punishment of Seville 
 at the very time when Abdalasis addressed him. " Behold, 
 my son," exclaimed he, " an enterprise worthy of thy ambi- 
 tion ! Take with thee all the troops thou hast brought firom 
 Africa ; reduce the city of Seville again to subjection, ttid 
 plant thy standard upon its alcazar. But stop not there: 
 carry thy conquering sword into the southern parts of Spain : 
 thou wilt &id there a harvest of glory yet to be reaped." 
 
 Abdalasis lost no time in departing upon this enterprise. 
 He took with him Count Julian, Maguea el Rumi, and the 
 Bishop Oppas, that he might benefit by their knowledge <^ 
 the country. When he came in sight of the fhir ciW of 
 Seville, seated like a queen in the midst of its golden juain, 
 with the Guadalquivir flowing beneath its walls, he gaaed 
 upon it with the admiration of a lover, and lamented m his 
 soul that he had to visit it as an avenger. His troops, how> 
 ever, regarded it with wrathful eyes, thinking only of its 
 rebellion and of the massacre of their countiymen in the 
 aloanur. 
 
 The principal people of the city had taken no part in this 
 * EipinoML Antiq. y Qrsnd. de Seville, lib. it cap. 8. 
 
 gallii 
 held 
 Gnad 
 tions, 
 bade 
 tDdei 
 Th« 
 were 
 i*venj 
 theal( 
 innoce 
 with t] 
 oeed i'^ 
 The 
 had be 
 of his 4 
 wise pr 
 '^Tulati 
 strong J 
 andthei 
 Whei 
 toriea J 
 At leng 
 compris] 
 ctous pli 
 of Mure 
 veteran ' 
 remnant 
 Ouadale 
 Theod 
 man. } 
 in open : 
 superiori 
 hispeop 
 thedift 
 goatherd 
 a warrio 
 hantsed 
 down mil 
 laying i^ ^ 
 oooJdr 
 
■PVMW 
 
 8VBJV0ATI0K Of tPAIir. 
 
 Uf 
 
 ttbimf 
 id; in- 
 worthy 
 
 bdaUoiB 
 4!" ex- 
 ace. It 
 
 g. •n^y 
 
 toprovo 
 the siege 
 refiige at 
 efaddenly 
 les of the 
 ats threw 
 ledtotho 
 i Modem 
 icape, and 
 rille in the 
 
 I -was at an 
 of Seville 
 «« Behold, 
 thy ambi- 
 >ught from 
 ction, and 
 not there: 
 ) of Spain: 
 
 tped." . 
 euterpnae. 
 ni, and the 
 owledgeof 
 lur ci^ of 
 )lden pUin* 
 , he paaed 
 mted m his 
 roops, how- 
 only of its 
 nen in the 
 
 part in this 
 Hp.S. 
 
 gallant bat fruitless insurrection ; and now, when they be- 
 held the army of Abdalasis enoimped upon the banks of th» 
 Guadalquivir, would fhin hare gone forth to make explana- 
 tions, and intercede for meroy. The populace, however, for* 
 bade any one to leave the citv, and, barring the gates, prepared 
 to defend themselves to the last. 
 
 The place was attacked with resistless ttaarv. The gate» 
 were soon burst open ; the Moslems rushed m, panting Ibr 
 revenge. They confined not their slaughter to the soldiery in 
 the alciizar, but roamed through every street, confounding the 
 innocent with the guilty in one bloody massacre, and it was 
 with the utmost diflSculty that Abdalasis could at length suc- 
 ceed in staying their sanguinary career.* 
 
 The son of Muza proved himself as mild in conquest aa he 
 had been intrepid in assault. The moderation and benignity 
 of his conduct soothed the terrors of the vanquished, and hu 
 wise precautions restored tranquillity. Having made proper 
 regulations for the protection of the inhabitants, he left a 
 strong garrison in the place to prevent any future insurrection, 
 and then departed on the further prosecution of his enterprise. 
 
 Wherever he went his arms were victorious ; and his vic- 
 tories were always characterised by the same ma^nanimi^. 
 At length he arrived on the confines of that beautifVd reffion 
 comprising lofty and precipitous mountains and rich and deli- 
 cioua plains, afterwards known by the name of the kingdom 
 of Murcia. All this part of the country was defended by the 
 veteran Thcodomir, who, by skilful management, had saved e 
 remnant of his forces, after the defeat on the banks of the 
 Quadalete. 
 
 Theodomir was a staunch warrior, but a wary and prudent 
 man. He had experienced the folly of opposing the Araba 
 in open field, where their cavnhy and armour gave them sueh 
 superiority; on their approach, therefore, he assembled aU 
 his people capable of bearing arms, and took possession of 
 the di^ and mountain passes. " Here," said he, " a simple 
 goatherd, who can hurl down rocks and stones, is as good aa 
 a warrior armed in proof." In this way he checked and 
 harassed the Moslem army in all its movements ; showering 
 down missiles upon it from overhanging precipices, and way- 
 laying it in narrow and nigged defiles, where a few raw tioopt 
 ooold make stand against a host. 
 
 * Conde, p. i. cap. 14. 
 
THS GOITQVBST OF SPAIH. 
 
 Theodomir was in a fiur way to baffle hia foes and oUige 
 them to withdraw from his territories ; unfbrtunately, how- 
 •rer, the wair veteran had two sons with him, young men of 
 hot and heady ralour, who considered all this prudence of 
 their father as savouring of cowardice, and who were anxious 
 to try their prowess in the open field. ** What glory," said 
 Ihey, ** is to be gained by destroying an enemy in this way, 
 from the covert of rocks and thickets ?" 
 
 ** You talk like young men," replied the veteran. ** Glory 
 is a prize one may fight for abroad, but safety is the object 
 when the enemy is at the door." 
 
 One day, however, the young men succeeded in drawing 
 down their father into the plain. Abdalasis immediately 
 fleixed on the opportunity, and threw himself between the 
 Ooths and their mountain fiistnesses. Theodomir saw too 
 late the danger into which he was betrayed. '* What can our 
 raw troops do," said he, '* against those squadrons of horse 
 that move like castles ? Let us make a rapid retreat to On- 
 huela, and defend ourselves from behind its walls." 
 . ** Father," said the eldest son, ** it is too late to retreat ; 
 remain here with the reserve, while my brother and I ad- 
 vance. Fear nothing ; am not I your son, and would I not 
 die to defend you ?" 
 
 ■ ** In truth," replied the veteran, ** I have my doubts whe- 
 ther you are my son. But if I remain here, and you should 
 all be killed, where then would be my protection r Come," 
 added he, turning to the second son ; ** I trust that thou 
 art virtually my son; let us hasten to retreat before it is too 
 bte." 
 
 " Father," replied the youngest, " I have not a doubt that 
 I am honestly and thoroughly your son, and as such I honour 
 you; but I owe duty likewise to my mother; and when I 
 sallied to the war, she gave me her blessing as long as I should 
 tunt with valour, but her curse should I prove craven and fly 
 the field. Fear nothing, father; I wiU defend you while 
 living, and even after you ore dead. You shall never fail of 
 an honourable sepulture among your kindred." 
 
 " A pestilence on ye both," cried Theodomir, " for a brace 
 of misgotten madmen ! What care I, think ye, where ye 
 lay n\j body when I am dead. One day's existence in a 
 hovel IS worth an age of interment in a marble sepulchre. 
 Come, my friends," said he, turning to his principal cava- 
 
 Una. 
 TCtret 
 
 Up 
 Mly, 
 Aey, 
 *orwi 
 that^ 
 Wh 
 Icepta 
 battle 
 Alien, 
 «ndth( 
 mount{ 
 Seei 
 of a fa' 
 •purrin 
 "but d 
 a truth, 
 of one ( 
 deed th 
 the rein 
 amain £ 
 until he 
 Order 
 wceive 
 capable ( 
 the field, 
 selves in 
 reeds in 
 open the 
 he lined 
 It was 
 with his 
 Bumerou( 
 truce in 1 
 they two 
 received 
 "Icon 
 Bumder o 
 aimity ai 
 capable oi 
 •paring th 
 
■VWOATXOir OV 8PAIK. 
 
 469 
 
 obBge 
 , bow- 
 men of 
 mce ol 
 Btnxiout 
 
 f, 
 
 8aid 
 
 lis way. 
 
 *t 
 
 Glory 
 Q object 
 
 drawing 
 kcdiately 
 reen the 
 saw too 
 t can our 
 of bone 
 it to On- 
 
 I retreat; 
 ind I ad- 
 )uld I not 
 
 obts wbe- 
 ou sbould 
 Come," 
 that thou 
 e it is too 
 
 loubt that 
 I honour 
 -when I 
 „ I should 
 
 [en and fly 
 you while 
 »ver iail of 
 
 lor a brace 
 vbere ye 
 jence in a 
 I sepulchre, 
 kipal cava- 
 
 liera, " let us leave these hot-headed striplings and make our 
 retreat ; if we tarry any longer, the enemy wul be upon us." ' 
 
 Upon this the cavaliers and proud hidalgoes drew up scorn- 
 fhlly, and tossed their heads : ** What do you see in us," said 
 tiiey, *' that you think we will show our backs to the enemy? 
 Forward! was ever the good old Gothic watch- word, and with 
 that will we live and die !" 
 
 While time was lost in these disputes, the Moslem army 
 kept advancing, until retreat was no longer practicable. The 
 battle was tumultuous and bloody. Theodomir fought like 
 a lion, but it was all in vain: he saw his two sons cut down, 
 and the greater part of their rash companions, while his raw 
 mountain troops fled in all directions. 
 
 Seeing there was no longer any hope, he seized the bridle 
 of a favourite page who was near him, and who was about 
 spurring for the mountains. *' Part not from me," said he, 
 ** but do thou at least attend to my counsel, my son ; and, of 
 a truth, I believe thou art my son, for thou art the ofikpring 
 of one of my handmaids who was kind unto me." And in- 
 deed the youth marvellously resembled him. Turning then 
 the reins of his own steed, and giving him the spur, he fled 
 amain from the field, followed by the page ; nor did he stop 
 until he arrived within the walls of Orihuela. 
 
 Ordering the gates to bo barred and bolted, he prepared to 
 receive the enemy. There were but few men m the city 
 capable of bearing arms, most of the youth having fallen in 
 the field. He caused the women, therefore, to clothe them- 
 selves in male attire, to put on hats and helmets, to take long 
 reeds in their hands instead of lances, and to cross their hair 
 upon their chins in semblance of beards. With thcRe troops 
 he lined the walls and towers. 
 
 It was about the hour of twilight that Abdalasis approached 
 with his army, but he paused when he saw the walls so 
 numerously garrisoned. Then Theodomir took a flag of 
 truce in his hand, and put a herald's tabard on the page, and 
 they two sallied forth to capitulate, and were graciously 
 received by Abdalasis. 
 
 ** I come," said Theodomir, '* on the behalf of the com- 
 mander of this cit^, to treat for terms worthy of your magtia- 
 nimity and of his dignity. You perceive that the city it 
 capable of withstanding a long siege, but he is desirous of 
 sparing the lives of his soldiers. Promise that the inhabitaati 
 
460 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF tPAIIT. 
 
 shall be at liberty to depart unmolested with their property, 
 and the city will be delivered up to you to-morrow morning 
 without a blow ; otherwise we are prepared to fight imtil not 
 a man be left." 
 
 Abdalasis was well pleased to get so powerful a place upon 
 tnch easy terms, but stipulated that the garrison should lav 
 down their arms. To this Thcodomir readily assented ; wim 
 the exception, however, of the governor and his retinue, 
 which was granted out of consideration for his dignity. The 
 articles of capitulation were then drawn out ; and when Ab. 
 dalosis had affixed his name and seal, Thcodomir took the pen. 
 and wrote his signature. '' Behold in me," said he, ** the 
 governor of the city !" 
 
 Abdalasis was pleased with the hardihood of the com- 
 mander of the place in thus venturing personally into his 
 power, and entertained the veteran with still greater honour. 
 When Theodomir returned to the city, he made known the 
 capitulation, and charged the inhabitants to pock up their 
 effects during the night, and be ready to sally forth in the 
 morning. 
 
 At the dawn of day the gates were thrown open, and Ab- 
 dalasis looked to see a great force issuing forth ; but, to his 
 surprise, beheld merely Theodomir and his page in battered 
 armour, followed by a multitude of old men, wmnen, and 
 children. 
 
 Abdalasis waited until the whole had come forth ; then, 
 turning to Thcodonur, " Where," cried he, '* are the soldiers 
 whom I saw last evening, lining the walls and towers ?" 
 
 " Soldiers have I none," replied the veteran. ** As to my 
 garrison, behold it before you. With these women did I man 
 my walls; and this, my page, is my herald, guard, and 
 retinue." 
 
 Upon this the Bishop Oppas and Count Julian exclaimed 
 that the capitulation was a base fraud, and ought not to be 
 complied with ; but Ab<lala8is relished the stratagem of the 
 old soldier, and orden-d that the stipulations of the trea^ 
 should be faithfully portbrmed. Nay, so high an opinion did 
 he conceive of the subtle wisdom of this commander, that he 
 permitted him to remain in authority over the surrounding 
 oouuti^, on his acknowledging allegiance and engaging to 
 papr tribute to the caliph ; and all that port of Spain, com- 
 prising the beautiful provinces of Muroia and Valencia, was 
 
 lone { 
 >»tillr« 
 Ha^ 
 and hi 
 valoui 
 the eii 
 
 Wh 
 
 wbdue 
 
 for his 
 
 TOccess 
 
 upon hi 
 
 heart.* 
 
 xubmitt 
 
 at the 
 
 urt wit! 
 
 fjonstruc 
 
 him the 
 
 rable ob 
 
 had the' 
 
 and exai 
 
 rently ei 
 
 Taric 
 
 Talavero 
 
 ooropanii 
 
 mules lai 
 
 the favou 
 
 the bank 
 
 tains of ] 
 
 in formei 
 
 indefatigt 
 
 lieeond se 
 
 could not 
 
 his preset 
 
 indignant 
 
 taid he, ' 
 
 inforeeme 
 
 imdangeri 
 
 • Conds, 
 AloBzo ei 8( 
 
SVBJUOATIOir OF SPAITT. 
 
 m 
 
 pcrty, 
 oming 
 itilnot 
 
 e upon 
 lid lav 
 
 ; wiui 
 
 retinue, 
 . The 
 en Ab- 
 thepen 
 5, "the 
 
 lo com- 
 into hi» 
 honour, 
 own the 
 ip their 
 1 in the 
 
 and Ab- 
 
 t, to his 
 battered 
 nen, and 
 
 h; then, 
 ; soldiers 
 
 long after known by the Arabic name of its defender, and is 
 ;4ill recorded in Arabian chronicles as " The land of Tadmir.'* 
 Having succeeded in subduing this rich and fruitful region, 
 and having gained great renown for his generosity as well a* 
 valour, Abdalasis returned with the chief part of his army to 
 the city of Seville.* 
 
 CHAPTEU XI. 
 
 Whex Muza ben Nozior had sent his son Abdalasis to 
 subdue Seville, he departed for Toledo, to call Taric to account 
 for his disobedience to his orders ; for, amidst all his own 
 'successes, the prosperous career of that commander preyed 
 upon his mind. What can content the jealoiis and ambitions 
 heart ? As Muza passed through the land, towns und cities 
 submitted to him without resistance ; he was lost in wonder 
 at the riches of the country, and the noble monuments of 
 urt with which it was adorned : when he beheld the bridges, 
 (!onstructed in ancient times by the Romans, they seemed to 
 him the work, not of men, but of genii. Yet all these admi- 
 rable objects only made him repine the more, that he had not 
 had the exclusive glory of invading and subduing the land : 
 and exasperatccl him the more against Taric, for having appa- 
 rently endeavoured to monopolise the conquest 
 
 Taric heard of his approach, and came forth to meet him at 
 Talavera, accompanied by many of the mo^t distinguished 
 companions of his victories, and with a train of horses and 
 mules laden with spoils, with which he trusted to propitiate 
 the favotur of his commander. Their meeting took place on 
 the banks of the rapid river Tiotar, which rises in the moun- 
 tains of Placencia, and throws itself into the Tagus. Muza, 
 in former days, while Taric had acted as his subordinate and 
 indefatigable officer, bad cherished and considered him as a 
 second self; but now that he had started up to be a rival, he 
 could not conceal his jealousy. When the veteran came into 
 his presence, ho reganled him for a moment with a stem and 
 indignant a-ipcct. "Why hast thou di«obeye<l my orders?" 
 Hsid he, " I commanded thee to await ray arrival with re- 
 inforcements, but thou hast rashly overrun tho country, 
 •mflangcring the loss of our armies and the niin of our cause." 
 
 * Conds, p. 1. Cronica del moro Rwua, Cron. Gen. EspaAa por 
 AloBio •! Sabio, p. iii. cap. 1, 
 
462 
 
 THE 0OKQUB8T OY SPAIN. 
 
 "I hftve acted," replied Taric, **in such maimer as I 
 thought would best serve the cause of Islam ; and in so doing 
 I thought to fulfil the wishes of Muza. Whatever I have 
 done has been as your servant. Behold your share, as com- 
 mander-in-chief, of the spoils which I have collected." So 
 flaying, he produced an immense treasure in silver and gold, 
 and costly stufis, and precious stones, and spread it before 
 Mttza. 
 
 The anger of the Arab commander was still more kindled 
 at the sight of this booty, for it proved how splendid had been 
 the victories of Taric ; but he restrained his wrath for the 
 present, and they proceeded together in moody silence to 
 Toledo. When he entered this royal city, however, and 
 ascended to the ancient palace of the Gothic kings, and 
 reflected that all this had been a scene of triumph to his rival, 
 he could no longer repress his indignation. He demanded of 
 Taric a strict account of all the riches he had gathered in 
 Spain, even of the presents he had reserved for the caliph; 
 and, above all, he made him yield up his favourite trophy, the 
 talismanic table of Solomon. When all this was done, he 
 again upbraided him bitterly with his disobedience of orders, 
 and with the rashness of his conduct. ** What blind confi- 
 dence in fortune hast thou shown,*' said he, '* in overrunning 
 such a country, and assailing such powerful cities with thy 
 ■canty force ! What madness, to venture everything upon a 
 desperate chance, when thou knewest I was coming with a 
 force to make the victory secure ! All thy success has been 
 owing to mere luck, not to judgnient nor generalship." 
 
 He then bestowed high praises upon the other chieftains 
 for their services in the cause of Islam ; but they answered 
 not a word, ond their countenances were gloomy and discon- 
 tented, for they felt the injustice done to their favom'ite 
 leader. As to Taric, though Lis eye burned like fire, he kept 
 his passion within bounds. *' 1 have done the best I could to 
 serve God and the caliph," said he, emphatically ; ** my con- 
 science acquits me, and I trust my sovereign will do the same." 
 
 " Perhaps he may," replied Muza bitterly ; " but, in the 
 meantime, I cannot confide his interests to a desperado, who 
 is heedless of orders and throws everything at hazard. Such 
 a general is imworthy to be intrusted with the fate of 
 armies." 
 
 So saying, he divested Taric of his command, and gave it 
 
 to Mi 
 
 an ai 
 calipl 
 passic 
 throw 
 Up 
 disgra 
 his fai 
 the CO 
 the an 
 and en 
 of disg 
 The 
 he true 
 thecali 
 his ras 
 wisdom 
 • little w] 
 orderinj 
 " whom 
 useless 
 It is 
 upon hi 
 Whent 
 to the n 
 the arm 
 every on 
 He cone 
 obey th 
 released 
 then pul 
 annv rec 
 celebrate 
 nionders 
 the ears < 
 
 The di 
 quering 
 *x?"ig app 
 
iWMMiH 
 
 8UBJV0ATI0K OF SPAIX. 
 
 46a 
 
 r as I 
 » doing 
 1 have 
 ts com- 
 
 L" So 
 d gold, 
 , before 
 
 kindled 
 Lad been 
 for the 
 lence to 
 ror, and 
 ngs, and 
 his rival, 
 landed of 
 thered in 
 3 caliph; 
 ophy, the 
 done, he 
 of orders, 
 Lnd confi- 
 errunning 
 with thy 
 ig upon a 
 ig with a 
 has been 
 
 to Magucd the rcncgado. The gaunt Taric still maintained 
 an air of stem composure. liis only words were, ''The 
 caliph will do me justice !" Muza was so transported with 
 passion at this laconic defiance that he ordered him to be 
 thrown into prison, and even threatened his life. 
 
 Upon this, Magucd el Rumi, though he had risen by the 
 disgrace of Taric, had the generosity to speak out warmly in 
 his favour. *' Consider," said he, to Muza, *' what may be 
 the consequences of this severity. Tnric has many friends in 
 the army ; his actions, too, have been signal and illustrious, 
 and entitle him to the highest honours and rewards, instead 
 of disgrace and imprisonment." 
 
 The anger of Muza, however, was not to be appeased ; and 
 he trusted to justify his measures by despatching missives to 
 the caliph, complaining of the insubordination of Taric, and 
 his rash and headlong conduct. The result proved the 
 wisdom of the caution given by Magucd. In the course of a 
 little while, Muza received a humiliating letter from the caliph, 
 ordering him to restore Taric to the command of the soldiers 
 " whom he had so gloriously conducted ;" and not to render 
 useless " one of the best swords in Islam !"* 
 
 It is thus the envious man brings humiliation and reproach 
 upon himself, in endeavouiing to degrade a meritorious rival. 
 When the tidings came of the justice rendered by the caliph 
 to the merits of the veteran, there was general joy throughout 
 the army; and Muza read, in the smiling countenances of 
 every one aroimd him, a severe censure upon his conduct. 
 He concealed, however, his deep humiliation, and affected to 
 obey the orders of his sovereign w^ith great alacrity: he 
 released Taric fi*om prison, feasted him at his own table, and 
 then publicly replaced him at the head of his troops. The 
 army received its favourite veteran with shouts of joy, and 
 celebrated with rejoicings the reconciliation of the com- 
 manders ; but the shouts of the soldiery were abhorrent to 
 the ears of Muza. 
 
 
 id gav< 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The dissensions, which for a time had distracted the con- 
 quering army, being a{)peased, and the Arabian generali 
 being apparently once more reconciled, Muza, as commander- 
 
 * Conde, p. i. cap. 10. 
 
 II 
 
M4 
 
 THX COXQVEST OF SFAIX. 
 
 I* ' 
 
 in-chief, proceeded to complete the enterprise by subjugating 
 tiie northern parts of Spain. The same expeditious mode oi' 
 conquest that had been sagaciously adopted by Taric was 
 •till pursued. The troops were Lghtly armed, and freed 
 from every siupcrfluous incumbrance. Each horseman, beside 
 his arms, carried a small sack of provisions, a copper vessel 
 in which to cook them, and a skin which served him for sur* 
 coat and for bed. The infismtry carried nothing but their 
 arms. To each regiment or squadron was allowed a limited 
 number of sumpter mules and attendants ; barely enough to 
 carry their necessary baggage and supplies : nothing wok 
 permitted that could needlessly diminish Uie number of fight- 
 ing men, delay their rapid movements, or consumie their pro- 
 Tisions. Strict orders were again issued, prohibiting, on 
 pain of death, all plunder excepting the camp of an enemy, or 
 cities given up to pillage.* 
 
 The armies now took their several lines of march. That 
 under Taric departed towards the north-east; beating up 
 the country towards the source of the Tagus, traversing the 
 chain of Iberian or Arragonian mountains, and pouring down 
 into the plains and valleys watered by the Ebro. It was 
 wonderful to see, in so brief a space of time, such a vast and 
 difficult country penetrated and subdued ; and the invading 
 army, like an inundating flood, pouring its streams into thr 
 most remote recesses. 
 
 While Taric was thus sweeping the country to the north- 
 east, Muza departed in an opposite direction ; yet purposing 
 to meet him, and to join their forces in the north. Bending 
 his course wcstwordly, he made a circuit behind the moun- 
 tains, and then, advancing into the open country, displayed 
 his banners before Salamanca, which surrendered without 
 resistance. From thence he continued on towards Astorga. 
 receiving the terrified submission of the land ; then turning 
 up the valley of the Douro, he ascended the course of that 
 famous river towards the enst : crossed the Sierra de Mon- 
 cayo, and, arriving on the banks of the Ebro, marched down 
 uloug its Bti-eam, until he approached the strong city of Sara- 
 go isa, the citadel of all that port of Spain. In this place had 
 t iken reftige many of the must valiant of the Gothic warriors : 
 the remntmts of armies, and fugitives from conquered citie?«. 
 It was one of the lost rallying (mints of the land. Whoi 
 
 • Ctnd.«, p. i. cap. 16. 
 
 Mnza 
 tile p 
 
 bnttl 
 
 sin 
 
 invade 
 
 Mui 
 
 talossj 
 
 ladder) 
 
 were ^ 
 
 them a 
 
 aasailin 
 
 tibles t 
 
 Theinl 
 
 tingw'sl 
 
 while t] 
 
 into the 
 
 his stec 
 
 hundred 
 
 g»do, wi 
 
 The ii 
 
 they mi 
 
 ramparts 
 
 and roo 
 
 children 
 
 and mis 
 
 enemy. 
 
 Theba 
 cipol inh 
 der. Ml 
 which ha 
 alaothat 
 towns of 
 onial ten 
 called th( 
 themselvc 
 to comply 
 hes, and 
 the feet 
 noblest y( 
 appointed 
 to the yok 
 
m^ 
 
 SUBJUCAZION OF SPAIN. 
 
 465 
 
 gating 
 ode oi 
 ic 'wa* 
 L firced 
 beside 
 vessel 
 for sur- 
 Lt their 
 limited 
 )ugh to 
 ng was 
 of fight- 
 leir pro- 
 ting, on 
 aemy, or 
 
 a. That 
 
 ating up 
 
 rsing the 
 
 ing down 
 
 \\\. was 
 TastanA 
 invading 
 into th«' 
 
 ie north- 
 turposing 
 Bending 
 ae moun- 
 displaye<l 
 ■ without 
 Astorga. 
 ttirninj? 
 . of thai 
 de Mon- 
 Lcd dowii 
 k' of Saro- 
 placc ha<l 
 warriors ■. 
 |rcd cities. 
 Whc*! 
 
 Mnza arrived, Taric had already been for some time before 
 tiic [dace, laying dose siege: the inhabitants were pressed 
 by &mine, and had suffered great losses in repeated combats ; 
 but there was a spirit and obstinacy in their resistance sur* 
 passing anything that had yet been witnessed by tha 
 invaders. 
 
 Muza now took command of the siege, and ordered a gene- 
 ral assault upon the walls. The Moslems planted their scaling 
 ladders, and mounted with their accustomed intrepidity, but 
 were vigorously resisted ; nor could all their efforts obtain 
 them a footing upon the battlements. While they were thus 
 assailing the walls. Count Julian ordered a heap of combus- 
 tibles to be placed against one of the gates, and set on fire. 
 The inhabitants attempted in vain from the barbican to ex- 
 tinguish the flames. They burnt so fiercely, that in a little 
 while the gate fell from the hinges. Count Julian galloped 
 into the city mounted upon a powerful charger, himself and 
 his steed all covered with mail. He was followed by three 
 hundred of his partisans, and supported by Magued, the rene- 
 gado, with a troop of horse. 
 
 The inhabitants disputed every street and public square ; 
 they made barriers of dead bodies, fighting behind these 
 ramparts of their slaughtered countrjnnen. Every window 
 and roof was filled with combatants ; the very women and 
 children joined in the desperate fight, throwing down stones 
 and missiles of all kinds, and scalding water upon the 
 enemy. 
 
 The battle raged until the hour of vespers, when the prin- 
 cipal inhabitants held a parley, and capitulated for a surren- 
 der. Muza had been incensed at their obstinate resistance, 
 which had cost the lives of so many of his soldiers ; he knew 
 also that in the city were collected the riches of many of tho 
 towns of eastern Spain. He demanded, therefore, beside the 
 usual terms, a heavy sum to be paid down by the citizens. 
 called the contribution of blood ; as by this they redeemed 
 diemselves from the edge of the sword. The people were obliged 
 to comply, lliey collected all the jewels of their richest fami- 
 lies, and all the ornaments of their temples, and laid them at 
 the feet of Muza ; and placed in his power many of their 
 noblest youths as hostages. A strong garrison was then 
 appointed ; and thus the fierce city of ^anigoMu was subdued 
 to the yoke of the conqueror. 
 
 •y 
 
" wwigtwiyv i w 
 
 466 
 
 THE COKQVEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 The Arab generals pursued their conquests even to the 
 foot of the Pyrenees: Taric then descended along the 
 course of the Ebro, and continued along the Mediterranean 
 coast ; subduing the famous city of Valencia, with its rich 
 and beautiful domains, and carrying the success of his 
 arms even to Dcnia. 
 
 Muza undertook with his host a wider range of conquest. 
 He overcame the cities of Barcelona, Oerona, and others that 
 lay on the skirts of the eastern mountains : then crossing into 
 the land of the Franks, he captured the city of Narbonne ; in 
 a temple of which he foimd stiven equestrian images of silver, 
 which he brought off as trophies of his victory.* Returning 
 into Spain, he scoured its northern regions along Qallicia and 
 the Asturias ; passed triumphantly through Liisitania, and 
 arrived once more in Andalusia, covered with laurels, and 
 enriched with immense spoils. 
 
 Thus was completed the subjugation of unhappy Spain. 
 All its cities and fortresses, and strong-holds, were in the 
 hands of the Saracens, excepting some of the wild mountain 
 tracts that bordered the Atlantic, and extended towards the 
 north. Here, then, the story of the conquest might conclude, 
 but that the indefatigable chronicler, Fray Antonio Agapida, 
 goes on to record the fate of those persons who were most re- 
 nowned in the enterprise. We shall follow his steps, and 
 avail ourselves of his information, laboriously collected from 
 vorious sources ; and, truly, the story of each of the actors in 
 this great historical drama bears with it its striking moral, and 
 is fuU of admonition and instruction. 
 
 CHAPTER Xni. 
 
 The licart of Muza ben Nozier was now lifted up, for he 
 considered his glory complete. He held a sway that might 
 have gratified the ambition of the proudest sovereign, for all 
 western Africa and the newly acquired peninsula of Spain 
 were obedient to his rule : and he was renowned throughout 
 all the lands of Islam as the great conqueror of the west. 
 But sudden humiliation awaited him in the very moment of 
 his highest triumph. 
 
 Notwithstanding the outwai'd reconciliation of Muza and 
 Taric, a deep and implacable hostility continued to exist be- 
 tween them ; and each had busy partisans who distracted the 
 * Conde, p. i. cap. 16. 
 
SITBJirOATION OF BPAIX. 
 
 467 
 
 X) the 
 « the 
 ranean 
 itsricb 
 of bii 
 
 inquest, 
 ierathat 
 onginto 
 
 mne; ia 
 of silver, 
 
 ^turning 
 lUciaand 
 
 ania, and 
 orelB, and 
 
 py Spain, 
 jre in the 
 [mountain 
 )ward8 the 
 It conclude, 
 9 Agapida, 
 re most re- 
 steps, and 
 lected from 
 le actors in 
 moral, and 
 
 ^ up, fo' ^® 
 1 that might 
 Lign, for f^ 
 ta of Spain 
 \ throughout 
 tf the west, 
 moment of 
 
 of Muza and 
 [to exist he- 
 listracted the 
 
 armies by their feuds. Letters were incessantly despntchcd to 
 Damascus by either party, cxaltinj? the merits of their own 
 leader and decrying his rival. Taric was ri^prcsonted as rash, 
 arbitrary, and prodigal, and as injuring the discipline of the 
 army, by sometimes treating it with extreme rigour, and at 
 other times giving way to licentiousness and profusion. Mu7A 
 was lauded as prudent, sagacious, dignified, and systematic in 
 hLs dealings, llic friends of Taric, on the other hand, repre- 
 sented him as brave, generous, and high-minded ; scrupulous 
 in reserving to his sovereign his i-ightful share of the spoils, 
 but distributing the rest Vjounteously among his soldiers, and 
 thus increasing their alacrity in the service. " Muzi, on the 
 contrary," said they, "is grasping and insatiable: he levies 
 intolerable contributions, and collects immense treasure, but 
 BweeiJS it all ixito his own coffers,' 
 
 The caliph was at length >vearied out by these complaints, 
 and feared that the safety of the cause might be endangered 
 by the dissensions of the rival generals. He sent letters, 
 therefore, ordering them to leave suitable persons in chai)»e 
 of their several commands, and appear, forthwith, before him 
 at Damascus. 
 
 Such was the greeting from his sovereign that awaited 
 Muza on his return from the conquest of northeni Spain. It 
 was a gi'ievous blow to a man of his pride and ambition : but 
 he prepared instantly to obey. He returned to Cordova, 
 collecting by the way all the treasures he had deposited in 
 ▼arious places. At that city he called a meeting of his prin- 
 cipal officers, and of the leaders of the faction of n])ostato 
 Christians, and made them all do homage to his son Abdalasis, 
 08 emir or governor of Spain. He gave this favoiwite son 
 much sage advice for the regulation of his conduct, and left 
 with him his nephew Ayub, a man greatly honoured by the 
 Moslems for his wisdom and discretion ; exhorting Abdalasis 
 to consult him on all occasions, and consider him as his bosom 
 counsellor. He made a parting address to his adherents, full 
 of cheerful confidence : assuring them that he woidd soon re- 
 turn, loaded with new favours and honours by his sovereign, 
 and enabled to reward them all for their faithful services. 
 
 When Muza sallied forth from Cordova to repair to Damas- 
 cus, his eavalgada appeared like the sumptuous pageant of 
 some Oriental potentate ; for he had mmierous guards and at- 
 iteudants splendidly armed and arrayed, together with four 
 
 ax 
 
 i 
 
/I 
 
 468 
 
 THE CONQVEST OF BPAIW. 
 
 0.1 1 
 
 hundred hostages, who were youthful caraliers of the noblest 
 fiimilies of the Goths, and a great number of captives of both 
 sexes, chosen for their beauty, and intended as presents for 
 the caliph. Then there was a vast train of beasts of burden, 
 laden with the plunder of Spain ; for he took with him all 
 the wealth he had collected in his conquests, and all the share 
 that had been set apart for his sovereign. With this display of 
 trophies and spoils, showing the magnificence of the land he 
 had conquered, he looked forward with confidence to silence 
 the calumnies of his foes. 
 
 As he traversed the valley of the Guadalquivir, he often 
 turned and looked back wistfully upon Cordova ; and, at the 
 distance of a league, when about to lose sight of it, he checked 
 his steed upon the summit of a hill, and gazed for a longtime 
 upon its palaces and towers. " O Cordova!" exclaimed he, 
 " great and glorious art thou among cities, and abundant in 
 all delights. With grief and sorrow do I part from thee ; 
 for sure I am it would give me length of days to abide within 
 thy pleasant walls !" When he had uttered these words, say 
 the Arabian chronicles, he resumed his way&ring ; but his 
 eyes were bent upon the ground, and frequent sigl^ bespoke 
 the heaviness of his heart. 
 
 Embarking at Cadiz, he passed over to Africa with all his 
 people and e£Pects, to regulate his government in that country. 
 He divided the command between his sons Abdelola and 
 . Meruan, leaving the former in Tangier, and the latter in 
 Cairvan. Thus having secured, as he thought, the power 
 and prosperity of his family, by placing all his sons as his 
 lieutenants in the coimtry he had conquered, he departed for 
 Sjrria, bearing with him the sumptuous spoils of the west. 
 
 While Miiza was thus disposing of his commands, and 
 moving cumbrously under the weight of wealth, the veteran 
 Taric was more speedy and alert in obeying the summons of 
 the caliph. He knew the importance, where complaints 
 were to be heard, of being first in presence of the judge ; 
 beside he was ever ready to march at a moment's warning, 
 and had nothing to impede him in his movements. The spouis 
 he had made in his conquests had either been shared among 
 his soldiers, or yielded up to Muza, or squandered away with 
 open-handed profusion. He appeared in Syria with a* small 
 train of war-worn followers, and had no other trophies to 
 show than his battered armour, and a body seamed with scars. 
 
 He y 
 who 
 whosi 
 Ihey 
 sunbv 
 "tot 
 holdt 
 for noi 
 Tari 
 ings o 
 actions 
 withou 
 "Ibrii 
 captivei 
 gave uf 
 myself, 
 nay, let 
 shown n 
 "Wh 
 tfceeahp 
 "The I 
 eagles in 
 Tonquish 
 need not 
 "And 
 "Thej 
 their att 
 war; the 
 hospitalit 
 earth, ant 
 "And 
 "They 
 battle, bu 
 
 "And 
 *hey some] 
 "Nevei 
 "never 
 enemy we 
 combat!' 
 
 The calil 
 'he vetei 
 Taric appc 
 

 BUBJUOATION OP SPAIN. 
 
 469 
 
 s noblest 
 
 of both 
 
 jent8 for 
 
 burden, 
 
 him all 
 
 the share 
 
 Jigplayof 
 
 > land he 
 
 to silence 
 
 , he often 
 id, at the 
 G checked 
 longtime 
 [aimed he, 
 )undant in 
 irom thee; 
 aide within 
 words, say 
 ig ; but his 
 ha bespoke 
 
 He was received, however, with rapture by the multitude, 
 who crowded to behold one of those conquerors of the west, 
 whose wonderful achievements were the theme of every tongue. 
 They were charmed with his gaunt and martial air, his hard 
 sunburnt features, and his scathed eye. All hail,'' cried they, 
 " to the sword of Islam, the terror of the unbelievers I Be- 
 hold the true model of a warrior, who despises gain, and seeks 
 for nought but glory." 
 
 Taric was graciously received by the caliph, who asked tid- 
 ings of his victories. He gave a soldier-like account of his 
 fictions, frank and full, without any feigned modesty, yet 
 without vain-glory. " Commander of the faithful," said he, 
 ** I bring thee no silver, nor gold, nor precious stones, nor 
 captives ; for what spoils I did not share with my soldiers, I 
 gave up to Muza as my commander. How I have conducted 
 myself, the honourable warriors of thy host will tell thee ; 
 nay, let our enemies, the Christians, be asked if I have ever 
 shown myself cowardly, or cruel, or rapacious." 
 
 "What kind of people are these Christians?" demanded 
 the caliph. 
 
 " The Spaniards," replied Taric, " are lions in their castles, 
 eagles in their saddles, but mere women when on foot. When 
 Tanquished, they escape like goats to the mountains, for they 
 need not see the ground they tread on." 
 
 ** And tell me of the Moors of Barbary." 
 
 ** They are like Arabs in the fierceness and dexterity of 
 their attacks, and in their knowledge of the stratagems of 
 war ; they resemble them, too, in feature, in fortitude, and 
 hospitali^; but they are the most perfidious people upon 
 earth, and never regard promise or plight.>d faith." 
 
 ** And the people of Afranc; what saycst thou of them ?'* 
 
 " They are in&iite in number, rapid in the onset, fierce in 
 battie, but confused and headlong in flight." 
 
 " And how fiured it with thee among these people ? Did 
 they sometimes vanquish thee ? " 
 
 "Never, by Allah!" cried Taric with honest warmth, 
 "never did a banner of mine fly the field. Though the 
 enemy were two to one, my Moslems never shunned the 
 combat!" 
 
 The caliph was well pleased with the martial bluntness of 
 the veteran, and showed him great honour; and wherever 
 Taric appeared he was the idol of the populace. 
 
 2i2 
 
 l\ 
 
 
470 
 
 THE COKQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Shortly after the arrival of Taric cl Tuerto at Damascus 
 the calipli fell dangerously ill, insomuch that his life was 
 despaired of. During his illness, tidings were brought that 
 Muza ben Nozier had entered Syria with a vast eavalcadc, 
 bearing all the riches and trophies gained in the western con- 
 quests. Now Suleiman ben Abdelmelec, brother to the 
 caliph, was successor to the throne; and he saw that his 
 brother had not long to live, and wished to grace the com- 
 mencement of his reign by this triumphant display of the 
 spoils of Christendom: he sent messengers, therefore, to Muza, 
 saying, *' The caliph is ill, and cannot receive thee at present; 
 I pray thee tarry on the road imtil his recovery." Muza, 
 however, paid no attention to the messages of Suleiman, but 
 rather hastened his march to arrive before the death of the 
 caliph. And Suleiman treasured up his conduct in his heait. 
 
 Muza entered the city in a kind of triumph, with a long 
 train of horses, and mules, and camels laden with treasiire, and 
 with the foxir hundred sons of Gothic nobles as hostages, each 
 decorated with a diadem and a girdle of gold ; and with one 
 hundred Christian damsels, whose beauty dazzled all beholders. 
 As he passed through the streets, he ordered purses of gold to 
 be thrown among the populace, who rent the air with accla- 
 mations. " Behold," cried they, " the veritable conqueror of 
 the unbelievers ! Behold the ^e model of a conqueror, who 
 brings home wealth to his country ! " And they heaped bene- 
 dictions on the head of Muza. 
 
 The caUph Walid Almanzor rose from his couch of illness 
 to receive the emir ; who, when he repaired to the palace, 
 filled one of its great courts with treasures of all kinds : the 
 halls, too, were thronged with the youthful hostages, magnifi- 
 cently attired, and with Christian damsels, lovely as the 
 hounes of Paradise. When the caliph demanded an account 
 of the conquest of Spain, he gave it with great eloquence ; 
 but, in describing the various victories, he made no mention 
 of the name of Taric, but spoke as if everything had been 
 effected by himself. He then presented the spoils of the 
 Christians as if they had been all taken by his own hands ; 
 and when he delivered to the caliph the miraculous table of 
 Solomon, he dwelt with animation on the virtues of tlrnt ines- 
 timable talisman. 
 
 this 
 exam 
 and ] 
 The c 
 of the 
 wantii 
 drew 1 
 mansh 
 hold, { 
 the rer 
 of the 
 mcnts. 
 cities i; 
 of thes< 
 tured ; 
 my bat 
 Muza 
 dicate 1 
 armies, 
 achieve( 
 commar 
 chief o 
 or gath 
 records 
 «nd hee 
 deserts,' 
 nay, yo 
 served h 
 "CSS be 
 part of 
 nothinj^ 
 and mur: 
 In a ft 
 by his bi 
 resentrae 
 court COB 
 calumnie 
 in his de< 
 when th< 
 slanders 
 
mmmmmtmfmm 
 
 SUBJUGATION OF SPAIX. 
 
 471 
 
 moscus 
 ife was 
 ht that 
 ralcadc, 
 sm con- 
 to the 
 hat his 
 lie com- 
 r of the 
 to Muza, 
 present; 
 Muza, 
 nan, but 
 h of the 
 lus heart, 
 h a long 
 L8\ire, and 
 iges, each 
 I with one 
 )eholder8. 
 of gold to 
 ith accla- 
 iqueror of 
 leror, who 
 apedbcne- 
 
 of iUness 
 le palace, 
 inds: the 
 Is, magnifi- 
 )ly as the 
 m account 
 jloquence ; 
 ^o mention 
 had been 
 )ila of the 
 m hands ; 
 table of 
 If tliat incs- 
 
 Upon this Taric, who was present, could no longer hold his 
 peace. " Commander of the faithful ! " said he, ** examine 
 this precious tabic, if any pait be wanting." The caliph 
 examined the table, which was composed of a 8injj;le emerald, 
 and he found that one foot was supplied by a foot of gold. 
 The caliph turned to Muza and said, " Where is the other foot 
 of the tabic ?"' Muza answered, '• I know not ; one foot was 
 wanting when it came into my hands." Upon tliis, Tario 
 drew from beneath his robe a foot of emerald of like work- 
 manship to the others, and iitting exactly to the table. " Be- 
 hold, O Commander of the faithful!" cried he, "a proof of 
 the real finder of the table ; and so is it with the greater part 
 of the spoils exhibited by Muza as trophies of his achieve- 
 ments. It was I who gained them, and who captured the 
 cities in which they were found. If yon want proof, demand 
 of these Christian cavaliers here present, most of whom I cap- 
 tured ; demand of those Moslem warriors who aided me in 
 my battles." 
 
 Muza was confounded for a moment, but attempted to vin- 
 dicate himself. " I spake," said he, " as the chief of your 
 armies, under whose orders and banners this conquest was 
 achieved. The actions of the soldier arc the actions of the 
 commander. In a great victory, it is not supposed that the 
 chief of the army takes all the captives, or kills all the slain, 
 or gathci-s all the booty, though all are enumerated in the 
 records of his triumph." The caliph, however, was wroth, 
 and heeded not his words. " Yo\i have vaunted your own 
 deserts, ' sjiid he, "and have forgotten the deserts of others; 
 nay, you have sought to debase another who has loyally 
 served his sovereign : the reward of your envy and covetous- 
 ness be upon your head !" So saying, he bestowed a great 
 part of the spoils upon Taric and the other chiefs, but gave 
 nothing to Muza ; and the veteran retired amidst the sneers 
 and murmurs of those present. 
 
 In a few days the Caliph Walid died, and was succeeded 
 by his brother Suleiman. The new sovereign cherished deep 
 resentment against Mnza for having presentcil himself at 
 court contrary to his command, and he listened readily to the 
 calumnies of his enemies ; for Muza had been too illustrious 
 in his deeds not to have many enemies. All now took courage 
 when they found he was out of favour, and they heaped 
 (landers on his head ; charging him with embezzling much of 
 
472 
 
 THE COKQUEST OF SFAI17. 
 
 the share of the booty belonging to the sovereign. The new 
 caliph lent a willing car to the accusation, and commanded 
 him to render up all that he had pillaged from Spain. The 
 loss of his riches might have been borne with fortitude by 
 Muza, but the stigma upon his fame filled his heart with bit- 
 terness. " I have been a faithful servant to the throne from 
 my youth upwards," said he, " and now am I degraded in my 
 old age. I care not for wealth, I care not for life, but let me 
 not be deprived of that honour which God has bestowed 
 upon mc !" 
 
 The caliph was still more exasperated at his repining, and 
 stripped him of his commands ; confiscated his effects; fined 
 him two hundred thousand pcsants of gold, and ordered that 
 he should be scourged and exposed to the noontide 8\m, and 
 afterwards thrown into prison.* The populace, also, reviled 
 and scoffed at him in his misery ; and as they beheld him led 
 forth to the public gaze, and fainting in the sun, they pointed 
 at him with derision, and exclaimed — " Behold the envious 
 man and the impostor : this is he who pretended to have con- 
 quered the land of the unbelievers !" 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ^ While these events were happening in Syria, the youthfiil 
 Abdalasis, the son of Muza, remained as emir or governor of 
 Spain. He was of a generous and benignant disposition, but 
 he was open and confiding, and easily led away by the opi- 
 nions of those he loved. Fortunately his father had left with 
 him, as a bosom counsellor, the discreet Ayub, the nephew of 
 Muza : aided by his advice, he, for some time, administered 
 the public affairs prudently and prosperously. 
 
 Not long after the departure of his father, he received a 
 letter from him, written while on his journey to Syria ; it was 
 to the following purport :— 
 
 " Beloved son ; honour of thy lineage ; Allah guard thee 
 from all harm and peril ! Listen to the words of thy fitther. 
 Avoid all treachery, though it should promise great advantage, 
 and trust not in him who counsels it, even though he should 
 be a brother. The company of traitors put far from thee, for 
 how canst thou be certain that he who has proved fidse to 
 others will prove true to thee ? Beware, O my son, of the 
 
 * Coade, part i. cap 17. 
 
MNnavi 
 
 tmmm 
 
 •VfiJIJOAIIOlf or SPAIN. 
 
 479 
 
 rhenew 
 imanded 
 a. The 
 itude by 
 urith bit- 
 one from 
 edinmy 
 Lit let me 
 bestowed 
 
 aing, and 
 its; fined 
 lered that 
 Sim, and 
 10, reviled 
 Id him led 
 >y pointed 
 le envious 
 have con- 
 
 youthfiil 
 ovemor of 
 >8ition, but 
 y the opi- 
 d left with 
 nephew of 
 ministered 
 
 received a 
 ria; it was 
 
 guard thee 
 thy fether. 
 advantage, 
 he should 
 m thee, for 
 ed fialse to 
 son, of the 
 
 seductions of love. It is an idle passion, which enfeebles the 
 heart and blinds the judgment ; it renders the mighty weak, 
 and makes slaves of princes. If thou shouldst discover any 
 foible of a vicious kind springing up in thy nature, pluck it 
 forth, whatever pang it cost thee. Every error, while new, 
 may easily be weeded out, but if suffered to take root it 
 flourishes and bears seed, and produces firuit a hundred-fold. 
 Follow these counsels, O son of my affections, and thou shalt 
 live secure." 
 
 Abdalasis meditated upon this letter, for some part of it 
 seemed to contain a mystery which he could not comprehend. 
 He called to him his cousin and counsellor, the discreet Ayub. 
 " What means my father," said he, " in cautioning me against 
 treachery and treason ? Does he think my nature so base that 
 it could descend to such means ? " 
 
 Ayub read the letter attentively. " Thy father," said he, 
 " would put thee on thy guard against the traitors Julian and 
 Oppas, and those of their party who surround thee. What 
 love canst thou expect from men who have been unnatural to 
 their kindred, and what loyalty from wretches who have 
 betrayed their country?" 
 
 Abdalasis was satisfied with the interpretation, and he acted 
 accordingly. He had long loathed all communion with 
 these men ; for there is nothing which the open, ingenuous 
 nature so much abhors as duplicity and treason. Policy, too, 
 no longer required their agency; they had rendered their 
 infamous service, and had no longer a country to betray ; but 
 they might turn and betray their employers. AbdaJasis, 
 therefore, removed them to a distance from his court, and 
 placed them in situations where they could do no harm, and 
 ne warned his commanders from being in anywise influenced 
 by their counsels, or aided by their arms. 
 
 He now confided entirely m his Arabian troops, and in the 
 Moorish squadrons from Africa, and with their aid he com- 
 pleted the conquest of Lusitania to the ultimate parts of the 
 Algarbe, or west, even to the shores of the great Ocean sea.* 
 From hence he sent his generals to overrun all those vast and 
 rugged sierras, which rise like ramparts along the ocean 
 
 * Algarbe, or AlgarbU, in Arabic signifies the west, as AxaiUs Is 
 flie east, Algafia the north, and Aqnibla the south. This will lerre to 
 SKplain some of the geographical names on the peninsula which are of 
 ▲abian origin. 
 
 
474 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF 8PAIW. 
 
 borders of the peninsula, and they carried the standard of 
 Islam in ti-iumph even to the mountains of Biscay, collecting 
 all manner of precious spoil. 
 
 " It is not enough, O Abdnlasis," said Ayub, " that we 
 conquer and rule tliis country with ihc sword ; if we wish our 
 dominion to be seciue, we must cultivate the arts of peace, 
 and study to secure fhe confidence, and promote the welfare, of 
 the people we have conquered."' Abdulasis relished counsel 
 which accorded so well with his own beneficent natm'e. He 
 endeavoured, therefore, to allay the ferment and confusion of 
 the conquest ; forbade, under ri*;orou8 punishment, all wanton 
 spoil or oppression, and protected the native inhabitants in 
 the enjoyment and cultivation of their lands, and the pursuit 
 of all useful occupations. By the advice of Ayub also, he 
 cncoura<;ed great numbers of industsious Moors and Arabs to 
 emigrate from Africii, and gave them houses and lands ; thus 
 introducing a peaceful Mahometan population into the con- 
 quered ])rovinccs. 
 
 Tlie good effect of the counsels of Ayub were soon apparent. 
 Instead of a sudden but transient influx of wealth, made by 
 the niin of the land, which left the countiy desolate, a reguhu* 
 and permanent revenue sprang tq), produced by reviving 
 prosperity, and gathered without violence. Abdalasis ordered 
 It to be faithfully collected, and deposited in coffers by public 
 officers appointed in each province for the purpose, and the 
 whole was sent by ten deputies to Damascus, to be laid at the 
 feet of the caliph ; not as the spoils of a vanquished country, 
 but as the peaceful trophies of a wisely administered govern- 
 ment. 
 
 The common herd of warlike adventurers, the mere men of 
 the sword, M'ho had thronged to Spain for the purpose of 
 ravage and rapine, were disappointed at being thus checked 
 in their career, and at seeing the reign of terror and violence 
 drawing to a close. " What manner of leader is this," said 
 they, " x^'ho forbids us to make s})oil of the enemies of Islam, 
 ond to enjoy the land we have wrested from the unbelievers ? " 
 The partisans of Julian also whisjH'red their calumnies. " Bo- 
 hold," said they, " with what kindness he treats the enemies 
 of your faith : all the Christians who have borno arms against 
 you, iuul withstood vour entrance into the land, ore favoured 
 and protected ; but it is enough for a Christian to have be- 
 friended the cause of tho Moslems to be singled out by AbUa- 
 
SUBJUOATIOX OF SPAIN. 
 
 476 
 
 dard of 
 llecting 
 
 that we 
 nsh our 
 r peace, 
 ilfarc, of 
 
 counsel 
 xe. He 
 fusion of 
 I wanton 
 itants in 
 e pursuit 
 also, he 
 Arabs to 
 ds; thus 
 the con- 
 apparent, 
 made hy 
 I a rcgulai* 
 
 reviving 
 ordered 
 
 )y public 
 and the 
 
 aid at the 
 country, 
 govcm- 
 
 re men of 
 
 lurposc of 
 checked 
 violence 
 
 uis," said 
 of Islam, 
 
 jlievers?" 
 Bo- 
 enemies 
 
 us against 
 favouretl 
 have be- 
 by Abda- 
 
 '8. 
 
 lasis for persecution, and to be driven with scorn from his 
 presence." 
 
 These insinuations fermented the discontent of the turbulent 
 and rapacious among the Moslems, but all the friends of peace, 
 and order, and good government, applauded the moileration of 
 the youthful emir. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Audalasis had fixed his seat of government at Seville, as 
 permitting easy and frequent communications with the coast 
 of Africa. His palace was of noble architecture, with delightful 
 gardens extending to the banks of the Guadahpiivir. In a 
 part of this palace resided many of the most beautiful Chris- 
 tian females, who were detained as captives, or rather hostages, 
 to ensure the tranquillity of the couiitr}'. Those who were of 
 noble rank were entertained in luxury and magnificence ; 
 slaves were appointed to attend upon them, and they were 
 arrayed in the richest apparel, and decorated with the most 
 precious jewels. Those of tender age were taught all graceful 
 accomplishments ; and even where tasks were imposed, they 
 were of the most elegant and agreeable kind. They embroi- 
 dered, they sang, they danced, and passed their time in 
 pleasing revelry. Many were lulled by this easy and volup- 
 tuous existence; the scenes of horror through which they 
 had passed were gradually effaced from their minds, and a 
 desire was often awakened of rendering themselves pleasing 
 in the eyes of their conquerors. 
 
 After his return from his campaign in Lusitania, and during 
 the intcnals of public duty, Abdalasis solaced himself in the 
 repose of this palace, and in the society of these Christian 
 captives. He remarked one among them who ever sat apart, 
 and neither joined in the labours nor sports of her companions. 
 She was lofty in her demeanour, and the others always paid 
 her reverence ; yet sorrow had given a softness to her charms, 
 and rendered her beauty touching to the heart. Alxlalasis 
 found her one day in the garden with her companions : they 
 had adorned their heads with flowers, and were singing the 
 songs of their ctmntry ; but she sat by herself and wept. ITio 
 youthful emir was moved by her tears, and acco8t(>d her in 
 gentle accents. '* O, fairest of women," said he, '* why doct 
 Uiou weep, and why is thy heart troiblcd?" " Alas !" re- 
 
476 
 
 THB CONQUEST OF 8PAIX. 
 
 plied she, " have I not cause to weep, seeing how sad is my 
 condition, and how great the hcij^ht from which I have fallen? 
 In me you behold the wretched Kxilona, but lately the wife 
 of Roderick, and the Queen of Spain, now a captive and a 
 slaye!" And, having said these words, she cast her eyes 
 upon the earth, and her tears began to flow afresh. 
 
 The generous feelings of Alxlalasis were aroused at the 
 sight of beauty and royalty in tears. He gave orders that 
 Exilona should be entertained in a style befitting her former 
 rank ; he appointed a train of female attendants to wait upon 
 her, and a guard of honour to protect her from all intrusion. ' 
 All the time that he could spare from public concerns was 
 passed in her society ; and he even neglected his divan, and 
 ■uffered his counsellors to attend in vain, while he lingered in 
 the apartments and gardens of the palace, Ustening to the 
 Toice of Exilona. 
 
 The discreet Ayub saw the danger into which he was 
 fidling. '' Oh Abdialasis ! " said he, " remember the words of 
 thy father. ' Beware, my son,' said he, * of the seductions of 
 love. It renders the mighty weak, and nmkes slaves of 
 princes !' " A blush kindled on the cheek of Abdalasis, and 
 be was silent for a moment. '' Why," said he, at length, 
 ** do you seek to charge me with such weakness ? It is one 
 thing to be infatuated by the charms of a woman, and another 
 to be touched by her misfortunes. It is the duty of my 
 gtation to console a princess who has been reduced to the 
 lowest humiliation by the triumphs of our arms. In doing so 
 I do but listen to the dictates of true magnanimity." 
 
 Ayub was silent, but his brow was clouded ; and for once 
 Abdalasis parted in discontent from his counsellor. In pro- 
 portion as he was dissatisfied with others or with himseli', he 
 sought the society of Exilona ; for there was a charm in her 
 conversation that banished every care. He daily became 
 more and more enamoured ; and Exilona gradually ceased to 
 weep, and Iiegan to listen with secret pleasure to the words 
 of her Arab lover. When, however, he sought to urge his 
 passion, she recollected the light estimation in which her sex 
 was held by the followers of Mahomet, and assumed a coun* 
 tenance grave and severe. 
 
 ** Fortune," said she, " has cast mo at thy feet ; behold I 
 am thy captive and thy spoil. But though my person is in 
 thy power, my soul is unsubdued ; and know that, should I 
 
 lact 
 aU 
 com 
 beri 
 been 
 with 
 Tl 
 butt 
 to un 
 .prom 
 heart 
 have 
 and a 
 quishi 
 fiiinh 
 butth 
 of Ish 
 consen 
 admitt 
 Wh. 
 to espq 
 •aid he 
 entire!' 
 ■on,' St 
 the hes 
 nipted 
 but of 
 securec 
 Ayul 
 nm ofl 
 
 among 
 Roderic 
 hwnet ;] 
 Their 
 and roj^ 
 that is 
 tobcki 
 
 Taxa. 
 Hi»p. lib! 
 
SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 
 
 477 
 
 is my 
 fallen? 
 le wife 
 and a 
 er eyes 
 
 at the 
 •rs that 
 
 former 
 lit upon 
 trusion. 
 rns was 
 ran, and 
 Lgcred in 
 ^ to the 
 
 I he was 
 words of 
 ictions of 
 slaves of 
 iasis, and 
 it length, 
 It is one 
 d another 
 ty of my 
 ed to the 
 
 a doing so 
 
 » 
 
 d for once 
 Inpro- 
 limself , he 
 rm in her 
 ily became 
 \f ceased to 
 , the words 
 o urge his 
 Lch her sex 
 led a coun- 
 
 behold I 
 )cr8on is in 
 t, should I 
 
 lack force to defend my honour, I have resolution to wash out 
 all stain u|>on it with my blood. I trust, however, in thy 
 courtesy as a cavalier to respect me in my reverses, remem- 
 bering what I have been ; and that, though the cro^n has 
 been \^Tested from my brow, the royal blood still warms 
 within my veins."* 
 
 The lofty spirit of Exilona, and her proud repulse, served 
 but to increase the passion of Abdalasis. He besought her 
 to unite her destiny with his, and share his state and power, 
 .promisiui; that she should have no rival nor co-partner in his 
 heart. \Vhatcver scruples the captive queen might originally 
 have felt to a union with one of the conquerors of her lord, 
 and an enemy of her adopted faith, they were easily van- 
 quished ; and she became the bride of Abdalasis. He would 
 fisdn have persuaded her to return to the faith of her fathers ; 
 but though of Moorish origin, and brought up in the doctrines 
 of Islam, she was too thorough a convert to Christianity to 
 consent, and looked back with disgust upon a religion that 
 admitted a plurality of wives. 
 
 When the sage Ayub heard of the resolution of Abdalasis 
 to espouse Exilona he was in despair. " Alas, my cousin!" 
 •aid he, " what infatuation possesses thee ? Hast thou then 
 entirely forgotten the letter of thy father ? ' Beware, my 
 son,' said he, * of love : it is an idle passion, which enfeebles 
 the heart and blinds the judgment.'" But Abdalasis inter- 
 rupted him with impatience. ^ My father," said he, '' spake 
 but of the blandishments of wanton love ; against these I am 
 secured by my virtuous passion for Exilona." 
 
 Ayub would fain have impressed upon him the dangers he 
 ran of awakening suspicion in the caliph, and discontent 
 among the Moslems, by wedding the queen of the conquered 
 Roderick, and one who was an enemy to the religion of Ma- 
 homet ; but the youthful lover only listened to his passion. 
 Their nuptials were celebrated at Seville with great pomp 
 and rejoicings, and he gave his bride the name of Omalisam ; 
 that is to say, she of the precious jewels ;f but she continued 
 to be kno^i^-n among the Christians by the name of Exilona. 
 
 * Faxanlo, Corona, Qoihics, tome i. part 492. Joan. Mar. dc Boh, 
 Hi«p. lib. vi. cap. 27. 
 
 t Condo, part L cap. 17. 
 
 «ffi 
 
478 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Possession, instead of cooling the passion of Abdalasis, 
 only added to its force ; he became blindly enamoured of his 
 beautiful bride, and consulted her will in all things ; nay, 
 having lost all relish for the advice of the discreet Ayub, ho 
 was even guided by the counsels of his wife in the affairs of 
 government. Exilona, unfortunately, had once been a queen, 
 and she could not remember her regal glories without regret. 
 She saw that Abdalasis had great power in the land ; greater 
 even than had been possessed by the Gothic kings ; but she 
 considered it as wanting in true splendour until his brows 
 gl.juld be encircled with the outward badge of royalty. One 
 day, when they were alone in the palace of Seville, and the 
 heart of Abdalasis was given up to tenderness, she addressed 
 him in fond yet timid accents. " Will not my lord bo 
 offended," said she, "if I make an unwelcome request?" 
 Abdalasis regarded her with a smile. " What canst thou ask 
 of me, lOxilona," said he, " that it would not be a happiness for 
 me to grant?" Then Exilona produced a crown of gold, 
 sparkling with jewels, which had belonged to the king, Don 
 Koderick, and said, " Behold, thou art king in authority, be 
 80 in thy outward state. There is majesty and glory in a 
 croMTi ; it gives a sanctity to power," Then putting the crown 
 upon his head, she held a mirror before him that he might 
 behold the majesty of his appearance. Abdalasis chid her 
 fondly, and put the crown away from him ; but Exilona per- 
 sisted in her prayer. "Never," said she, "has there been a 
 king in Spain that did not wear a crown." So Abdalasis 
 suffered himself to be beguiled by the blandishments of his 
 wife, and to bo invested with the crown and sceptre and 
 other signs of royolty.* 
 
 It is affirmed by ancient and discreet chroniclers, that 
 Abdalasis only assumed this royal state in the privacy of his 
 palace, and to gratify the eye of his youthful bride : but 
 where was a secret ever confined within the walls of a palace ? 
 The assumption of the insignia of the ancient Gothic kings 
 was soon rumoured about, and caused the most violent sum< 
 picions. The Moslems had already felt jealous of tho 
 ascendancy of this beautiful woman ; and it was now confi- 
 
 * Cron. Gen. do Alonzo el 8abio, part 3. Joan. Mar. de Rcb. Hiap. 
 lib. vi. cap. 27. Conde, part i. cap. 19. 
 
 ever, 
 great,' 
 So the 
 blind 
 It 
 magnai 
 gieat 
 cavalic 
 asangu 
 his ])er! 
 him fro 
 cause t 
 upon 1 
 the tw< 
 mcnt 01 
 
I < l I i j i M i j p^pfyiK 
 
 subjugatiox of spaix. 
 
 479 
 
 odalasis, 
 d of his 
 s; nay, 
 ^yub, ho 
 iffairs of 
 a queen, 
 it regret. 
 ; greater 
 but she 
 lis brows 
 ty. One 
 , and the 
 addressed 
 r lord be 
 request?" 
 t thou ask 
 )pine68 for 
 11 of gold, 
 Iking, Don 
 thority, be 
 glory in a 
 the crown 
 he might 
 a chid her 
 silona per- 
 ore been a 
 > Abdaiaais 
 mts of his 
 ceptrc and 
 
 iclers, that 
 vacy of his 
 )ridc: but 
 f a palace ? 
 otbic kings 
 iolcnt 8UH- 
 ■us of tho 
 now confi- 
 
 e Rcb. HUp. 
 
 dently asserted that Abdalasis, won by her persuasions, had 
 secretly turned Christian. 
 
 The enemies of Abdalasis, those whose rnpacious spirits had 
 been kcj)t in check by the boncficence of his rule, seized upon 
 this occasion to ruin him. They sent letters to DamasciLS 
 accusing liim of apostacy, and of an intention to seize upon 
 the tiu-one in right of his wife, K\iIona, as widow of the late 
 King Roderick. It was added, that the Christians were 
 prepared to flock to his standard, as the only means of regain- 
 ing ascendancy in their country. 
 
 These accusations arrived at Damascus just after tho 
 accession of tlie sanguinary Suleiman to the throne, and in 
 the height of his pei*sccution of the unfortunate Mu/a. Tho 
 caliph waited for no proofs in confirmation ; he inune- 
 diately sent private orders that Abdalasis should be put to 
 death, and that the same fate should be dealt to his two 
 brothers who governed in Africa, as a sure means of crushing 
 the conspiracy of this ambitious family. 
 
 The mandate for the death of Abdahisis was sent to 
 Abhilbar ben Obeidah and Zeyd ben Nabegiit, both of whom 
 had been cherished friends of Muza, and had lived in intimate 
 fiivour and companionship with his son. When they read 
 the fatal parchment, the scroll fell from their trembling 
 hands. " Can such hostility exist against the family of 
 Muza ?" exclaimed they. " Is this the reward for such gieat 
 and glorious services?" The cavaliers remained for sonic 
 tune plunged in horror and consternation. The order, how- 
 ever, was absolute, and left them no diserclion. "Allah in 
 gi'eat," said they, " and ctmimands us to obey «)ur sovereign." 
 80 they prepared to execute the bloody maiuUite with the 
 blind fidelity of Moslems. 
 
 It was necessary to proceed with caution. The open and 
 magnanimous character of Abdalasis had won tlie hearts of n 
 great part of the soldier}-, and his magnificenoe pleased tho 
 cavaliers who formed his guard : it was feared, therefi)re, that 
 a sanguinary opposition would be made to any attempt upon 
 his jjcrson. The rabble, however, had been embittered against 
 him from his having restrained their de])redations, and be- 
 cause they thought him an apostate in his heart, secretly bent 
 upon betraying them to the (.'hristians. While, therefore, 
 the two otticers made vigilant dispositions to cheek any move- 
 ment on the part of the soldiery, they let loose the blmd fmy 
 
 m 
 
^f i , 
 
 480 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIK. 
 
 of the populace, by publishing the fatal mandate. In a 
 moment the city was in a ferment, and there was a ferocious 
 emulation who should be the first to execute the orders of 
 the caliph. 
 
 Abdalasis was at this time at a palace in the country not 
 tax from Seville, commanding a delightful view of the fertile 
 plain of the Guadalquivir. Hither he was accustomed to 
 retire from the tumult of the court, and to pass his time 
 among groves and fountains, and the sweet repose of gardens, 
 in the society of Exilona. It was the dawn of day, the hour 
 of early prayer, when the furious populace arrived at this 
 retreat. Abdalasis was offering up his orisons in a small 
 mosque which he had erected for the use of the neighbouring 
 peasantry. Exilona was in a chapel in the interior of the 
 palace, where her confessor, a holy friar, was performing 
 mass. They were both surprised at their devotions, and 
 dragged forth by the hands of the rabble. A few guards, 
 who attended at the palace, would have made defence ; but 
 they were overawed by the sight of the written mandate of 
 the caliph. 
 
 The captives were borne in triumph to Seville. AU the 
 beneficent virtues of Abdalasis were forgotten ; nor had the 
 charms of Exilona any effect in softening the hearts of the 
 populace. The brutal eagerness to shed blood, which seems 
 mherent in human nature, was awakened ; and woe to the 
 Tictims when that eagerness is quickened by religious hate ! 
 The illustrious couple, adorned with aU the graces of youth 
 and beauty, were hurried to a scaffold in the great square of 
 Seville, and there beheaded, amidst the shouts and execrations 
 of an infatuated multitude. Their bodies were left ex- 
 
 Soscd Tipon the ground, and would have been devoured by 
 ogs, had they not been gathered at night by some friendly 
 hand, and poorly interred in one of the courts of their late 
 dwelling. 
 
 Tlius terminated the loves and lives of Abdalasis and Exi- 
 lona, in the year of the Incarnation seven hundred and 
 fourteen. Their names v i .eld sacred as martjTs to the 
 Christian faith: but many read in their imtimely fate a 
 lesson against ambition and vain-glory ; having sacrificed real 
 power and substantial rule to the glittering bauble of a 
 crown. 
 The head of Abdalasis was embalmed, and enclosed in a 
 
^fWHmmppHHP 
 
 LEGEND OF COUNT JULIAN. 
 
 481 
 
 casket, and sent to Syria to the cruel Suleiman. Tlie mes- 
 senger who bore it overtook the caliph as he was performing a 
 pilgrimage to Mecca. Muza was among the courtiers in his 
 train, having been released from prison. On opeiiiug the 
 casket, and regarding its contents, the eyes of thr t}Tant 
 sparkled with malignant satisfaction. Calling the unhappy 
 father to his side : '' Muza," said he, " dost thou know this 
 head ?' The veteran recognised the features of his beloved 
 son, and he turned his face away with anguish. " Yes ! well 
 do I know it," replied he ; " and may the curse of Gotl light 
 upon him who has destroyed a better man than himself." 
 
 "Without adding another word, he retired to Mount Deran, 
 a prey to devouring melancholy. He shortly after received 
 tidings of the death of his two sons, whom he had left in 
 the government of Western Africa, and who had fallen vic- 
 tims to the jealous suspicions of the caliph. His advanced 
 age was not proof against these repeated blows, and this utter 
 ruin of his late prosperous family ; and he sank into his grave, 
 sorrowing and broken-hearted. 
 
 Such was the lamenttible end of the conqueror of Spain ; 
 whose great achievements were not sufficient to atone, in the 
 eye of his sovereign, for a weakness to which all men ambi- 
 tious of renown are subject ; and whose triumphs eventually 
 brought persecution upon himself, and untimely death upon 
 his children. 
 
 Here ends the legend of the Subjugation of Spain. 
 
 LEGEND OF COUNT JULIAN 
 AND HIS FAMILY. 
 
 In the preceding legends is darkly shadowed out a true 
 story of the woes of Spain. It is a story full of wholesome 
 admonition, rebuking the insolence of human pride, and the 
 vanity of human ambition, and showing the futility of all 
 greatness that is not strongly based on virtue. We have 
 seen, in brief space of time, most of the actors in this 
 historic drama clisappearing, one by one, from the scene, 
 and going down, conqueror und conquered, to gloomy and 
 nnhonoured graves. It remi; is to close this eventful history. 
 
^*^.p-\ 
 
 482 
 
 XHE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 by holdinp; up as a signal warning the fate of the traitor, 
 whose perfidious scheme of vengeance brought ruin on his 
 unlive land. 
 
 Many and various arc the accounts given in ancient chroni- 
 cles of the fortunes of Count Julian and his family; and 
 many arc the traditions on the subject still extant among the 
 populace of Spain, and perpetuated in those countless ballads 
 sung by peasants and muleteers, which spread a singular 
 charm over the whole of this romantic land. 
 
 He who has travelled in Spain in the true way in which 
 the country ought to be travelled ; sojourning in its remote 
 provinces ; rambling among the rugged defiles and secluded 
 valleys of its mountains ; and making himself familiar with 
 the people in their out-of-the-way hamlets, and rarely visited 
 neighbourhoods, will remember many a group of travellers 
 and muleteers, gathered of an evening around the door or the 
 spacious hearth of a mountain venta, wrapped in their brown 
 cloaks, and listening with grave and profound attention to 
 the long historic ballad of some rustic troubadour, cither re- 
 cited with the true ore rotundo and modulated cadences of 
 Spanish elocution, or chanted to the tinkling of a guitar. In 
 this way, he may have heard the doleful end of Count Julian 
 and his family recounted in traditionary rhymes, that have 
 been handed down from generation to generation. The par- 
 ticulars, however, of the following wild legend are chiefly 
 gathered from the writings of the pscudo Moor. Rasis : how 
 Ihr they may be safely taken as historic facts, it is impossible 
 now to ascertain ; we must content ourselves, therefore, with 
 their answering to the exactions of poetic justice. 
 
 As yet everything had prospered with Count Julian. He 
 had gratified his vengeance ; he had been successful in his 
 treason, and had acquired countless riches from the ruin of 
 his country. IJut it is not outward success that constitutes 
 prosperity'. The tree flourishes with fruit and foliage while 
 blasted and withering at the heart. Wherever he went. 
 Count Julian read hati-ed in every eye. The Christians 
 cursed him as the cause of all their woe ; the Moslems des- 
 pised and distrusted him as a traitor. Men whisix^red to- 
 gether as he approached, and then turned away in scorn ; and 
 mothers snatched away their children with horror if he oflered 
 to caress them. He withered under the execrations of his 
 fellow men, and last, and worst of all, he began to loathe 
 
mmmmmmmim 
 
 LEGEXD OF COUNT JULIAN. 
 
 4Si 
 
 traitor, 
 on bis 
 
 chroni- 
 y; and 
 
 mg tlic 
 
 ballads 
 
 siugidar 
 
 a wbich 
 
 , remote 
 
 Bccluded 
 
 iar with 
 
 [y visited 
 
 travellers 
 
 lor or tbc 
 
 eir bro-wTi 
 
 ention to 
 
 citber re- 
 
 idenccs of 
 
 iiitar. In 
 
 Lint Julian 
 tliat bavc 
 Tbc par- 
 ire cbiefly 
 asis: bow 
 impossible 
 ;fore, witb 
 
 ilian. He 
 isful in bis 
 Lbc ruin of 
 j constitutes 
 |lia|j;c wbile 
 he went, 
 Cbristians 
 .slcms dc8- 
 .»^percd to- 
 scom ; and 
 if be offered 
 [tions of bis 
 ft to loatbo 
 
 himself. He tried in vain to persuade himself that he had 
 but taken a justifiable vengeance : he felt that no personal 
 vrrong can justify the crime of treason to one's country. 
 
 For a time, he sought in luxurious ind\ilgence to soothe, or 
 foi^ct, the miseries of the mind. He assembled round him 
 every pleasure and gratification that boundless wealth could 
 purchase ; but all in vain. He had no relish for the dainties 
 of his board ; music had no charm wherewith to lull his soul, 
 and remorse drove slumlx'r from his pillow. He sent to 
 Ceuta for his wife Frandina, his daughter Florinda, and his 
 youthful son Alarbot ; hoping in the Imsom of his family to 
 find that sympathy and kindness which he could no longer 
 meet with in the world. Their presence, however, brought 
 him no alleviation. Florinda, the daughter of his heart, for 
 whose sake he had imdertaken this signal vengeance, was 
 sinking a victim to its effects. Wherever she went, she 
 found herself a bye-word of shame and reproach. The out- 
 .n^j;e she had suffered was imputed to her as wantonness, and 
 her calamity was magnified into a crime. The Christians 
 never mentioned her name without a curse, and tlio Moslems, 
 the gainers by her misfortune, spake of her only by the ap- 
 pellation of Cava, the vilest epithet they could apply to 
 woman. 
 
 But the opprobrium of the world was nothing to the up- 
 braiding of her own heart. She charged herself with all the 
 miseries of these disastrous wars; the deaths of so many 
 gallant cavaliers; the conquest and perdition of her countiy. 
 The anguish of her mind preyed upon the beauty of her 
 person. Her eye, once soft and tender in its (expression, 
 became wild and ht^gard; her cheek lost its bloom, and 
 became hollow and pallid; and at times there was despera- 
 tion in her words. When her father sought to embrace 
 her, she withdrew with shuddering from his arms; for she 
 thought of his treason, and the ruin it had brought u{)on 
 Spain. Her wretchedness increased after her return to her 
 native country, until it rose to a degree of frenzy. One day, 
 when she was walking with her parents in the garden of their 
 palace, she entered a tower, and, having barred the door, 
 ascended to the battlements. PVom thence she called to 
 them in piercing accents, expressive of her insupportable 
 Anguish and desperate determination. *' Let this city," said 
 she, *' be benoeforth colled Malacca, in memorial of the most 
 
 2x 
 
484 
 
 THE CONQUEST OP SPAIN. 
 
 wretched of women, who therein put an end to her days." 
 So sayinjj, she threw herself headlong from the tower, and 
 was dashed to pieces. The city, adds the ancient clironicler, 
 received the name thus given it, though afterwards softened 
 to Malaga, which it still retains, in memory of the tragical 
 end of Florinda. 
 
 The Countess Frandina abandoned this scene of woe, and 
 returned to Ceuta, accompanied by her infant son. She took 
 with her the remains of her unfortunate daughter, and gave 
 them honourable sepulture in a mausoleum of the chapel 
 belonging to the citadel. Coiaut Jidian departed for Cartha- 
 gena, where he remained plunged in horror at this doleful 
 event. 
 
 About this time, the cruel SiUeiman, having destroyed the 
 &mily of Muza, had sent an Arab general, named Alahor, to 
 ■uoceed Abdalasis as emir or governor of Spain. The new 
 emir was of a cruel and suspicious nature, and commenced 
 his sway with a stern severity that soon made those under 
 his command loo'v back with regret to the easy rule of Abda- 
 lasis. He regarded, with an eye of distrust, the renegado 
 Christians who had aided in the conquest, and who bore 
 firms in the service of the Moslems; but his deepest suspi- 
 cions fcU upon Count Jidian. " He has been a traitor to his 
 own coimtrymen," said he; " how can we be siu-e that he 
 (will not prove traitor to us:' 
 
 A sudden insiuxection of the Christians who had taken 
 refuge in the Asturian mountains quickened his suspicions, 
 and inspired him with fears of some dangerous conspiracy 
 against his power. In the height of his anxiety, he bethought 
 him of an Arabian sage, named Yuza, who had accompanied 
 him from Africa. This son of science was withered in form, 
 and looked as if he had outlived the usual term of mortal 
 life. In the course of his studies and travels in the east, he 
 had collected the knowledge and experience of ages; being 
 skilled in astrology, and, it is said, in necromancy, and pos- 
 sessing the marvellous gift of prophecy or divination. To 
 this expounder of mysteries *Uahor applied, to learn whether 
 any secret treason menaced his safety. 
 
 The astrologer listened with deep attention and overwhelm- 
 ing brow to all the surmises and suspicions of the emir; then 
 shut himself up to consult his books, and commune with those 
 iupcmatural intelligences subservient to his wisdom. At an 
 
 fille< 
 vari( 
 astrt 
 with 
 and 
 portc 
 myst 
 "( 
 
 Juliai 
 "I 
 andcj 
 He 
 him i 
 afflicti 
 excuse 
 the coi 
 adhere; 
 having 
 strued 
 He no 
 Misurre 
 ratory i 
 domina 
 Evan, t 
 king,\ 
 Thus ( 
 &tal bn 
 Alah( 
 Julian, 
 barely 
 betook 
 mountai 
 of his pi 
 to Ceuti 
 kcr son. 
 
 The 
 ^nd,j 
 fortress 1 
 by »upei 
 will adn 
 
LEGEND OF COrVT JUL! AW. 
 
 i%$ 
 
 lays." 
 r, and 
 nicler, 
 »ftened 
 ragical 
 
 oe, and 
 tie took 
 id gave 
 
 chapel 
 Cartha- 
 
 doleful 
 
 )yed the 
 lahor, io 
 'he new 
 amenced 
 se under 
 )f Abda- 
 renegado 
 ^ho bore 
 8t suspi- 
 or to his 
 that he 
 
 ad taken 
 iispiciona, 
 onspiracy 
 )ethought 
 ompanied 
 in form, 
 [of mortal 
 le east, he 
 res; being 
 and pos- 
 ition. To 
 whether 
 
 ferwhelm- 
 Imir; then 
 rith those 
 At an 
 
 appointed hoiir, the emir sought him in his cell. It was 
 filled ^nth the smoke of porfunios : s'-iunrcs and circles and 
 various diagrams were described \ipon the Hoor; and the 
 astrologer was poring over a scroll of parchment covered 
 with cabalistic characters. He received Alahor with a gloomy 
 and sinister aspect; pretending to have discovered fearful 
 portents in the heavens, and to have had strange dreams an4 
 mystic visions. 
 
 " O emir," said he, " be on your guard! Treason is armmd 
 you, and in your path : your life is in peril. Beware of Coimt 
 Julian and his family." 
 
 " Enough," said the emir. ** They shall all die! Parents 
 and children — all shall die!" 
 
 He forthwith sent a summons to Count Julian to attend 
 him in Cordova. The messenger found him plunged in 
 affliction for the recent death of his daughter. The count 
 excused himself, on account of this misfortune, from obeying 
 the commands of the emir in person, but sent several of his 
 adherents. His hesitation, and the circumstance of his 
 having sent his family across the straits to Africa, were con« 
 strued by the jealous mind of the emir into proofs of guilt. 
 He no longer doubted his being concerned in the recent 
 msurrections, and that he had sent his family away, prepa- 
 ratory to an attempt, by force of arms, to subvert the >Ioslem 
 domination. In his fury, he put to death Siseburto and 
 Evan, the nephews of Bishop Oppas, and sons of the former 
 king, Witiza, suspecting them of taking part in the treason. 
 Thus did they expiate their treachery to their country in the 
 fiital battle of the Oaudaletc. 
 
 Alahor next hastened to Carthagena, to seize upon Count 
 Julian. So rapid were his movements that the count had 
 barely time to escape with fifteen cavaliers, with whom 
 he took refuge in the strong castle of Marcuello, among the 
 mountains of Arragon. ITie emir, enraged at being disappointed 
 of his prey, embarked at Carthagena, and crossed the straits 
 to Ceuta, to make captives of the Countess Fraudina and 
 her son. 
 
 The old chronicle from which we take this part of our 
 l^end, presents a gloomy picture of the countess in the stem 
 fintress to which she had fled for refuge ; a picture heightened 
 by supernatural horrors. These latter the sagacious reader 
 wHl admit or reject, according to the measure of his faith 
 
 2x2 
 
 hi 
 
486 
 
 THE CONQUKST OF SPAIX, 
 
 i 
 
 and judgment; always rOincTnl)crinf!:, that in dark and eventful 
 times, like those in question, involving the destinies of nations, 
 the downfal of kingdoms, and the crimes of i-ulers and 
 mighty men, the hand of fate is sometimes strangely visible, 
 and confounds the wisdom of the worldly wise, by intimations 
 and portents above the ordinary course of things. With this 
 proviso, we make no scruple to follow the venerable chronicler 
 in his nanaticm. 
 
 Now so it happened, that the Countess Frandina was seated 
 late at night in her chamber in the citadel of Ceuta, which 
 stands on a lofty rock, overlooking the sea. She was revolv- 
 ing, in gloomy thought, the late disasters of her family, 
 when she heard a mournful noise, like that of the sea-breeze, 
 moaning about the castle walls. Kaising her eyes, she be- 
 held her brother, the Bishop Oppas, at the entrance of the 
 chamber. She advanced to embrace him, but he forbade her 
 with a motion of his hand; and she observed that he' was 
 ghastly pale, and that his eyes glared as with lambent flames. 
 
 " Touch me not, sister," said he with a mournful voice, 
 *' lest thou be consumed by the fire which rages within me. 
 Guard well thy son, for blood-hounds arc upon his track. 
 His innocence might have secured him the protection of 
 heaven, but our crimes have involved him in our common 
 ruin." He ceased to speak, and was no longer to be seen. 
 His coming and going were alike without noise, and the door 
 of the chamber remained fast bolted. 
 
 On the following morning, a messenger arrived with tidings 
 that the Bishop Oppas had been made prisoner in battle by 
 the insurgent Christians of the Asturias, and had died in 
 fetters in a tower of the moimtains. The same messenger 
 brought word that the Emir Alahor had put to death several 
 of the friends of Count Julian ; had obliged him to fly for 
 his life to a castle in Arragon, and was embarking with a 
 formidable force for Ceuta. 
 
 The Countess Frandina, as has already been shown, was 
 of courageous heart, and danger made her desperate. There 
 were fifty Moorish soldiers in the garrison; she feared that 
 they would ])vovc treao)ierons, and take part with their coun* 
 trymen. Summoning her officers, therefore, she informed 
 them of their danger, and crrmmanded them to put those 
 Moors to death. The guards sallied forth to obey her orders. 
 Thirtj'-five of the Moors wei-o in the great square, imsus- 
 
 vespe 
 Thee 
 at de 
 He ci 
 seven 
 the y 
 safe 
 
 Ala 
 every 
 took 
 despt 
 and i 
 Her c 
 said f 
 dead.' 
 chapel, 
 my chi 
 "Nc 
 and sle 
 "Fearc 
 can do 
 The 
 said sh 
 oome 
 
LEGEND OF COVNZ JULIAN. 
 
 487 
 
 rcntful 
 
 alions, 
 
 ra and 
 
 visible, 
 
 nations 
 
 ith this 
 
 M)nicler 
 
 i seated 
 , which 
 , revolv- 
 
 family, 
 L-breeze, 
 
 she be- 
 ;c of the 
 jade her 
 
 he" was 
 it flames, 
 ful voice, 
 thin me. 
 lis track, 
 ection of 
 
 common 
 
 be seen. 
 
 the door 
 
 th tidings 
 battle by 
 died in 
 
 lessenger 
 [th several 
 
 to fly for 
 ig with a 
 
 kowD, was 
 
 Ite. There 
 
 i;ared that 
 
 Iheir coun- 
 
 informed 
 
 put those 
 
 ler orders. 
 
 Itre, unsus- 
 
 picious of any danger, when they were severally singled out 
 by their executioners, and, at a concci-tcd signal, killed on 
 the spot. The remaining fifteen took refuge in a t(jwer. They 
 saw the armada of the emir at a distance, and hoped to bo 
 able to hold out until its arrival. The soldiers of the coimtess 
 saw it also, and made extraordinary eiforts to do^troy these 
 internal enemies, before they should be attacked from with- 
 out. They made repeated attempts to storm the tower, but 
 were as often repulsed with severe loss. They then under- 
 mined it, supporting its foundations by stanchions of wood. 
 To these they set fiire, and withdrew to a distance, keeping 
 up a constant shower of missiles to prevent the Moors from 
 sallying forth to extinguish the flames. The stimchions wero 
 rapidly consimied; and when they gave way the tower feU to 
 the ground. Some of the Moora were crushed among the 
 ruins; others were flung to a distance, and dashed among the 
 rocks: those who survived were instantly put to the sword. 
 
 The fleet of the emir arrived at Ceuta about the hour of 
 vespers. He landed, but foimd the gates closed against him. 
 The countess herself spoke to him from a tower, and set him 
 at defiance. The emir immediately [laid siege to the city. 
 He consulted the astrologer Yuza, who told him that, for 
 seven days, his star would have the ascendant over that of 
 the youth Alarbot; but after that time the youth would be 
 sttfe from his power, and would eficct his ruin. 
 
 Alahor immediately ordered the city to be assailed on 
 every side, and at length carried it by storm. The countess 
 took refuge with her forces in the citadel, and made a 
 desperate defence ; but the walls were sapped and mined, 
 and she saw that all resistance would soon be unavailing. 
 Her only thoughts now were to conceal her child. " Surely,'* 
 said she, '' they will not think of seeking him among the 
 dead." She led him, therefore, into the dark and dismal 
 chapel. " Thou art not afraid to be alone in this darkness, 
 my child ?" said she. 
 
 "No, mother," replied the boy, "darkness gives silence 
 and sleep." She conducted him to the tomb of Florinda. 
 " Fearest thou the dead, my child ?" " No, mother, the dead 
 can do no harm, — and what shoidd I fear from my sister ?" 
 
 The countess opened the sepulchre. " Listen, my son," 
 said she. " There are fierce and cruel people who have 
 oome hither to murder thcc. Stay here in company wiUi 
 
 2k3 
 
486 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 I 
 
 thy sister, nnd bo quiet as thou dost value thy life!" The 
 boy, who was of a courageous nature, did as he was bidden, 
 and remained there all that day, and all the night, and the 
 next day until the third hour. 
 
 In the meantime the walls of the citadel were sapped, the 
 troops of the emir poured in at the breach, and a great part 
 of the garrison was put to the sword. The countess was 
 taken prisoner and brought before the emir. She appeared 
 in his presence with a haughty demeanour, as if she had been 
 a queen receiving homage ; but when he demanded her son, 
 she faltered, and turned pale, and replied, " My son is with 
 the dead." 
 
 " Countess," said the emir, " I am not to be deceived ,* 
 tell me where you have concealed the boy, or tortures shall 
 wring from you the ccret." 
 
 " Emir,' rei)lied the countess, •* may the greatest torment* 
 be my portion, both here and hereafter, if what I speak be 
 not the truth ! My darling child lies buried with the dead." 
 
 The emir was confounded by the solemnity of her words ; 
 but the withered astrologer, Yuza, who stootl by his side 
 regarding the countess from beneath his bushed eyebrows, 
 perceived trouble in her countenance and equivocation in her 
 words. " Leave this matter to me," whispered he to Alahor; 
 *' I will pro<luce the child." 
 
 He ordered strict search to be made by the soldiery, and 
 he obliged the countess to be alwi;y8 present. When they 
 came to the chapel, her cheek turned pale and her lip 
 quivered. " Tliis," said the subtle astrologer, " is the place 
 of c«mcealmcnt." 
 
 The search thro'i;'hout the chapel, however, was equally 
 vain, and the soldiers were about to depart, when Yuzu 
 remarked a slight gleam of joy in the eye of the countess. 
 *' We are leaving our prey behind," thought he ; *' tho 
 countess is exulting." 
 
 He now called to mind the words of her assevciTition, that 
 her child was with the dead. Turning suddenly to the 
 soldiers, ho ordered them to search the sepulchres. '* If yoa 
 find him not," said he, *' drag forth the bones of that wanton 
 Cava, that they may be burnt, and the ashes scattered to the 
 winds." 
 
 Tlie soldiers searched among the tombs, and found that of 
 Floriuda partly open. Within lay the boy in the sound 
 
 "I 
 
lege:td of count juliax. 
 
 489 
 
 The 
 iddcii, 
 nd the 
 
 Dd, the 
 it part 
 >S8 was 
 )pcared 
 id been 
 icr son, 
 is with 
 
 jccivcd ; 
 res shaU 
 
 torments 
 speak be 
 le dead." 
 r words ; 
 his side 
 yebrow», 
 on in her 
 ) Akhor; 
 
 liery, and 
 'hen they 
 her lip 
 the place 
 
 us equally 
 len Yuzji 
 countess. 
 ^0 ; " the 
 
 jition, that 
 |ly to the 
 * " If you 
 |tit M-auton 
 red to tlie 
 
 Ind that of 
 sound 
 
 sleep of childhood, and one of the soldiers took him gently 
 in his arms to bear him to the emir. 
 
 AVhcn the comitess beheld that her child was discovere<l, 
 she I'ushed into the presence of Alahor, and, forgetting all 
 her pride, tlivew herself upon her knees before him. 
 
 " Mercy ! mercy !" cried she, in piercing accents, " mercy 
 on my son — my only child ! O emir ! listen to a mother's 
 prayer, and my lips shall kiss thy feet. As thou art merciful 
 to him, so may the Most High God have mercy upon thee, 
 and heap blessings on thy head !" 
 
 "Bear that frantic woman hence," said the emir, "but 
 guard her well." 
 
 The countess was dragged away by the soldier}', without 
 regard to her struggles and her cries, and confined in a 
 dungeon of the citadel. 
 
 The child was now brought to the emir. He had been 
 awakened by the tumult, but gazed fearlessly on the stem 
 countenances of the soldiers. Had the heart of the emir 
 been capable of pity, it would have been touched by the ten- 
 der youth and innocent beauty of the child ; but his heart was 
 as the nether millstone, and he was bent ui)on the destruction 
 of the whole family of Julian. Calling to him the astrologer, 
 he gave the child into his charge with a secret command. 
 The withered son of the desert took the boy by the hand, and 
 led him up the winding staircase of a tower. When they 
 reached the summit, Yuxa placed him on the battle- 
 ments. 
 
 " Cling not to me, my child," said he, " there is no danger." 
 *' Father, I fear not," said the undaunted boy ; " yet it is a 
 wondrous height !" 
 
 The child looked around with delighted c»yes. The breeze 
 blew his curling locks from about his face, imd his cheek 
 glowed at the boundless prosiK'ct ; for the tower was reared 
 upon that lofty promontory on which Hrrcules founded one 
 of his pillars. The sui-ges of the sea were heard tiu* below 
 beating upon the rocks, the sea-gull screamed and wheeled 
 about the foundations of the tower, and the sails of lofty 
 caraccas were as mere si)ecks on the bos<mi of the deep. 
 
 "Dost thou know yonder land beyond the blue water ?'* 
 said Yu/a. 
 
 " It is Spain," replied the boy ; " it is the land of my father 
 and my mother." 
 
490 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 •' Then stretch forth thy hands and bless it, my child," said 
 the astrologer. 
 
 The boy let go his hold of the wall, and, as he stretched 
 forth his hands, the a^cd son of Ishmael, exerting all the 
 strength of his withered limbH, suddenly pushed him over the 
 battlements. He fell headlong from the top of that tall tower, 
 and not a bone in his tender frame but was crushed upon the 
 rocks beneath. 
 
 Alahor came to the foot of the winding stairs. 
 " Is the boy safe ?" cried he. 
 
 " He is safe," replied Yuza ; " come and behold the truth 
 witli thine ot^ti eyes." 
 
 The emir ascended the tower and looked over the battle- 
 ments, and beheld the body of the child, a sliapeless mass, on 
 the rocks far below, and the sea gulls hovering about it ; and 
 he gave orders that it should be thrown into the sea, which 
 was done. 
 
 On the following morning, the countess was led forth from 
 her dimgeon into the public square. She knew of the death 
 of her child, and that her own death was at himd ; but she 
 neither wept nor supplicated. Her hair was dishevelled, her 
 eyes were haggard with watching, and her cheek was as the 
 monumental stone ; but there were the remains of command- 
 ing beauty in her countenance ; and the majesty of her pre- 
 sence awed even the rabble into respect. 
 
 A multitude of Christian prisoners were then brought 
 forth ; and Alahor cried out — '• Behold the wife of Count 
 Julian; behold one of that traitorous family which has 
 brought ruin upon yourselves and upon your country." And 
 he ordered that they should stone her to death. But the 
 Christians drew back with horror from the deed, and said— 
 " In the hand of God is vengeance, let not her blood be upon 
 our heads." U|>on this the emir swore, with horrid impreca- 
 tions, that whoever of the captives refused should himself be 
 stoned to death. So the cruel order was executed, and the 
 Countess Fnmdina perished by tlie hands of her countrj-men. 
 Having thus acctmiplished lus barbarous eiTand, the emir 
 embarked for Spain, and ordered the citadel of Ceuta to be set 
 on fire, and crossed the straits at night by the light of its 
 towering flames. 
 
 The death of Count Julian, which took place not long afler, 
 closed the tragic stdi'y of his family. I low he died remains 
 
LEOKXD OP COUNT JULIAX. 
 
 491 
 
 involved in doubt. Some assert that the cruel Alahor pursued 
 him to his retreat among the mountains, and, having taken 
 him prisoner, beheaded him ; others that the Moors confined 
 liim in a dungeon, and put an end t« his life \\'ith lingering 
 torments ; wlulc others affirm that the tower of the caNtlo of 
 Marcuello, near Huesca, in Arrngon, in which he took refuge, 
 fell on him and crushed him to pieces. All agree that his 
 latter end was miserable in the extreme, and his death violent. 
 The curse of Heaven, which had thus pursued him to the 
 grave, was extended to the very place which had given hiui 
 shelter! for we are told that the castlo is no longer inhabited, 
 on account of the strange and horrible noises that are heard 
 in it ; and that visions of armed men arc seen above it in the 
 air; which are supposed to be the troubled spirits of tho 
 ai)ostate Christians who favoured the cause of the traitor. 
 
 In after times a stone sepulchre was shown, outside of tho 
 chapel of the castle, as the tomb of Count Julian: but tho 
 traveller and the pilgrim avoided it, or bestowed itpon it a 
 malediction ; and the name of Julian hns remained a bye-word 
 and a scorn in the land for the warning of all generations. 
 Such ever be the lot of him who betrays his countr}' ! 
 
 Here end the legends of the conquest of Spain. 
 Written in the Alhambra, June 10, 1829. 
 
 NOTE TO THE PRECEDING LEGEND. 
 
 El liccnciado Ardt vines] (Lib. ii. cap. 8) dize que diehos 
 Duendos caseros, o los del aire, ha/en a])nracer exercitos y 
 peleas, como lo que se cuenta ])or tradieion (y aun algunos 
 pcrsonas lo de])onen como testigos de vistai) de la toire y 
 castello de Marcuello, lugar al pie de las raontaiias de Aragon 
 (aora inhabitable, por las grandes y espantables ruidos que en 
 el 86 oven) donde sc retraxo el Condc Don Julian, causa de la 
 perdicion de Ksimna ; sobre el quel castillo, de/(> se ven en el 
 aire ciertas visiones, como de soldados, que el vulgo dizo sou 
 Ids oavallerofl y gente que Ic favoreeian. 
 
 Vide ** Kl Ento Dislucidodo, por Fray Antonio do Fucntn- 
 lapefia capuchin," seccion 3, subseccion 5, instoncia 8, 
 num. 644. 
 
 As readers unyened in tho Bponiiih language may wish to 
 
492 
 
 THS C0KQI7EST OF SPAIK. 
 
 know the testunonj of the worthy and discreet capuchin friar, 
 Antonio de Fuentuapena, we subjoin a translation of it. 
 
 " The licentiate Ardeyines (Book ii. diap. 8) says that the 
 said house fairies (or fiuniliar spirits), or those of ihe air, 
 cause the apparitions of armies and battles; such as diose 
 which are related in tradition, (and some persons eyen depose 
 to the truth of them as eye-witnesses) of the town and castle 
 of Marcuello, a fortress at the foot <^ the mountains of 
 Arragon (at present uninhabitable, on account of the great 
 and frightful noises heard in it), the place of retreat of Count 
 Don Julian, tiie cause of the perdition of Spain. It is said 
 that certain apparitions of soldiers are seen in the air, which 
 the Tul^ say are those of the courtiers and the people who 
 aided him." 
 
 AHvyan 
 
 J^jff^' 
 
 TBX xni). 
 
 / 
 
 umom 
 
 R ■>—mw ASS Mv. n. lusEnfs \xn» 
 
gpr^i'''*"'"— ■'► '» ■' » »> 
 
 HliKI'IIHijii II 1,,^ ,^ 
 
 n friar, 
 fc. 
 
 lat the 
 tlie air, 
 s those 
 depose 
 1 castle 
 sins of 
 e great 
 f Count 
 is said 
 I which 
 >le who 
 
mm 
 
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 enUrged by i. A. Ulackwbli.. 
 
 S. WILUAM OF MALMESBURYY CHRONICLE OF THE KINGS OF ENGLAND. 
 
 4. SIX OLD ENGLISH CHRONICLES, VIZ., AMERS UFE OF ALFRED. AND 
 
 the Cliroiiiclet of Llltelwenl, Oildaa, Nenniua, Geoffry of Ifonmuutti, and Kicliurii 
 of Cirencciter. 
 
 5. ELUS'S EARLY ENGUSH METRICAL ROMANCES, REVISED BY J. 
 
 Ubcii Aaii Haii.iwrll. Comphtt im out rof., with tpUndiU JlluminattU tVoutitinecf. 
 
 e. CHRONICLES OF THE CRUSADERS; RICHARD OF DEVIZES, GEOFFREY 
 de Vintauf, LunI de Joiuville. Complete iu one volume, with a tpUnUU Jllnmt- 
 mUtd Fnmt'upitc*. 
 
 7. EARLY TRAVELS IN PALESTINE. WILUBALD, S/EWULF, BENJAMIN OF 
 
 Tuaela, MandcviUe, La Brocquiere, and Mniuidrell. In unu volume. U'Uk May. 
 
 BRAND'S POPULAR ANTIQUITIES 
 Ireland, by Si a II km by Ellu. Vol. \. 
 
 Alto, uH^form uUk tit brAHiiAaii I.iB>ABf, price is., 
 
 BONN't ECCLESIAtTICAL LIBRARY. 
 
 1. EUSEBIUS' ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY, CAREFULLY TRANSLATED FROM 
 
 the (jtvKk, Mitli illuatrutivi; NuUt. 
 
 
 OF ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, AND 
 
 0. ROGER OF WENDOVER'S FLOWERS OF HISTORY (FORMERLY ASCRIBED 
 
 to Mattliew Parw.) Vol. L 
 
 10. BRAND'S POPULAR ANTIQUITIES. VOL. 2. 
 
 11. ROGER OF WENDOVER'S FLOWERS OF HISTORY. VOL 2. 
 
 12. BRANDS POPULAR ANTIQUITIES. VOL. 3. 
 
 13. KEIGHTLEYS FAIRY MYTHOLOGY. NEW EDITION, ENLARGED BY THE 
 
 Author. Una Vol. f^oHtitpm* ijf Qeorye CruHiktmi. 
 
 
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