GIFT OF 
 Irene Hudson 
 
THE 
 
 A LH AMBR A. 
 
 BY 
 
 WASHINGTON IRVING 
 
 CHICAGO, NEW YORK, AND SAN FRANCISCO: 
 BELFORD, CLARKE & CO., 
 
 PUBLISHERS. 
 
GFFTOF 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 TO DAVID WILKIE, ESQ., R.A. 7 
 
 MY DEAR SIR: -You may remember that, in the course of the 
 rambles we once took together about some of the old cities of 
 Spain, particularly Toledo and Seville, we frequently rmarked 
 the mixture of the Saracenic with the Gothic, remaining from 
 the time of the Moors, and were more than once struck with 
 incidents and scenes in the streets, that brought to mind pas 
 sages in the " Arabian Nights." You then urged me to write 
 something illustrative of these peculiarities ; something in the 
 Haroun Alraschid style," that should have a dash of that Ara 
 bian spice which pervades every thing in Spain. I call this to 
 mind to show you that you are, in some degree, responsible for 
 the present work ; in which I have given a few "Arabesque" 
 sketches and tales, taken from the life, or founded on local tra 
 ditions, and mostly struck off during a residence in one of the 
 most legendary and Morisco-Spanish places of the Peninstila- 
 
 I inscribe this work to you, as a memorial of the pleasant 
 scenes we have witnessed together, in that land of adventure, 
 and as a testimony of an esteem for your worth, winch ecu 
 only be exceeded by admiration of your talents. 
 
 Your friend and fellow traveller 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 M 7492 
 
THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGK 
 
 DEDICATION 3 
 
 THE JOURNEY , 7 
 
 GOVERNMENT OF THE ALHAMBRA 20 
 
 INTERIOR OF THE ALHAMBRA 22 
 
 THE TOWER OF COMAHES 28 
 
 REFLECTIONS ON THE MOSLEM DOMINATION IN SPAIN 32 
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD 35 
 
 THE TRUANT 38 
 
 THE AUTHOR S CHAMBER 41 
 
 THE ALHAMBRA BY MOONLIGHT 45 
 
 INHABITANTS OF THE ALHAMBRA 46 
 
 THE BALCONY 49 
 
 THE ADVENTURE OF THE MASON 54 
 
 A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS. . . . 57 
 
 THE COURT OF LIONS , 63 
 
 BOABDIL EL CHICO 67 
 
 MOMENTOS OF BoABDIL 70 
 
 THE TOWER OF LAS INFANTAS 73 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE WEATHERCOCK 74 
 
 LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER 75 
 
 LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES 89 
 
 LOCAL TKADITION,S . 108 
 
 LEGEND OF THE MOOR S LEGACY 109 
 
 VISITORS OF THE ALHAMBRA 126 
 
 LEGEND JF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL; OR, THE PILGRIM OF LOVE ISO 
 
 LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA; OR, THE PAGE AND THE GER-FALCON. 156 
 
 THE VETERAN 168 
 
 THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY 170 
 
 GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER 175 
 
 LEGEND OF THE Two DISCREET STATUES 189 
 
 MAHAMAD ABEN ALAHMAR, THE FOUNDER OF THE ALHAMBRA 203 
 
 JUSEF ABUL HAGIAS, THE FINISHER OF THE ALHAMBRA , 209 
 
THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 A SERIES OF TALES AND SKETCHES OF THE 
 MOORS AND SPANIARDS. 
 
 THE JOURNEY. 
 
 IN the sprmg of 1829, the author of this work, whom curiosity 
 had brought into Spain, made a rambling expedition from Se 
 ville to Granada, in company with a friend, a member of the 
 Russian embassy at Madrid. Accident had thrown us together 
 from distant regions of the globe, and a similarity of taste led 
 us to wander together among the romantic mountains of An 
 dalusia. Should these pages meet his eye, wherever thrown 
 by the duties of his station, whether mingling in the pageantry 
 of courts or meditating on the truer glories of nature, may they 
 recall the scenes of our adventurous companionship, and with 
 them the remembrance of one, in whom neither time nor dis 
 tance will obliterate the recollection of his gentleness and 
 worth. 
 
 And here, before setting forth, let me indulge in a few previ 
 ous remarks on Spanish scenery and Spanish travelling. 
 Many are apt to picture Spain in their imaginations as a soft 
 southern region decked out with all the luxuriant charms of 
 voluptuous Italy. On the contrary, though there are excep 
 tions in some of the maritime provinces, yet, for the greater 
 part, it is a stern, melancholy country, with rugged mountains 
 and long, naked, sweeping plains, destitute of trees, and inva 
 riably silent and lonesome, partaking of the savage and solitary 
 character of Africa. What adds to this silence and loneliness, 
 is the absence of singing birds, a natural consequence of the 
 want of groves and hedges. The vulture and the eagle are seen 
 wheeling about the mountain cliffs and soaring over the plains, 
 
8 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 and groups of shy bustards stalk about the heaths, but the 
 myriads of smaller birds, which animate the whole face of 
 other countries, are mat with in but few provinces of Spain, and 
 in them chiefly among the orchards and gardens which sur 
 round the habitations of man. 
 
 In the exterior provinces, the traveller occasionally traverses 
 great tracts cultivated with grain as far as the eye can reach, 
 waving at times with verdure, at other times naked and sun 
 burnt ; but he looks round in vain for the hand that has tilled 
 the soil : at length he perceives some village perched on a steep 
 hill, or rugged crag, with mouldering battlements and ruined 
 watch-tower ; a strong-hold, in old times, against civil war or 
 Moorish inroad ; for the custom among the peasantry of congre 
 gating together for mutual protection, is still kept up in most 
 parts of Spain, in consequence of the marauding of roving free 
 booters. 
 
 But though a great part of Spain is deficient in the garniture 
 of groves and forests, and the softer charms of ornamental cul 
 tivation, yet its scenery has something of a high and lofty char 
 acter to compensate the want. It partakes something of the 
 attributes of its people, and I think that I better understand 
 the proud, hardy, frugal and abstemious Spaniard, his manly 
 defiance of hardships, and contempt of effeminate indulgences, 
 smce I have seen the country he inhabits. 
 
 There is something, too, in the sternly simple features of the 
 Spanish landscape, that impresses on the soul a feeling of sub 
 limity. The immense plains of the Castiles and La Mancha, 
 extending as far as the eye can reach, derive an interest from 
 their very nakedness and immensity, and have something of 
 the solemn grandeur of the ocean. In ranging over these 
 boundless wastes, the eye catches sight, here and there, of a 
 straggling herd of cattle attended by a lonely herdsman, mo 
 tionless as a statue, with his long slender pike tapering up like 
 a lance into the air ; or beholds a long train of mules slowly 
 moving along the waste like a train of camels in the desert, or 
 a single herdsman, armed with blunderbuss and stiletto, and 
 prowling over the plain. Thus, the country, the habits, the 
 very looks of the people, have something of the Arabian char 
 acter. The general insecurity of the country is evinced in the 
 universal use of weapons. The herdsman in the field, the shep 
 herd in the plain has his musket and his knife. The wealthy 
 villager rarely ventures to the market-town without his trabu- 
 cho, and, perhaps, a servant on foot with a blunderbuss on 
 
THE JOURNEY. 9 
 
 his shoulder ; and the most petty journey is undertaken with 
 the preparations of a warlike enterprise. 
 
 The dangers of the road produce, also, a mode of travelling, 
 resembling, on a diminutive scale, the caravans of the East. 
 The arrierors or carriers, congregate in troops, and set off in 
 large and well-armed trains on appointed days, while individual 
 travellers swell their number and contribute to their strength. 
 In this primitive way is the commerce of the country carried 
 on. The muleteer is the general medium of traffic, and the 
 legitimate wanderer of the land, traversing the Peninsula from 
 the Pyrenees and the Asturias, to the Alpuxarras, the Serrania 
 de Ronda, and even to the gates of Gibraltar. He lives frugally 
 and hardily; his alforjas (or saddle-bags), of coarse cloth, hold 
 his scanty stock of provisions ; a leathern bottle hanging at his 
 saddle-bow, contains wine or water for a supply across barren 
 mountains and thirsty plains ; a mule cloth spread upon the 
 ground is his bed at night, and his pack-saddle is his pillow. 
 His low but clear-limbed and sinewy form betokens strength ; 
 his complexion is dark and sun-burnt; his eye resolute, but 
 quiet in its expression, except when kindled by sudden emo 
 tion; his demeanour is frank, manly, and courteous, and he 
 never passes you without a grave salutation " Dios guarda a 
 usted !" " Vay usted con Dios caballero !" " God guard you !" 
 " God be with you! cavalier!" 
 
 As these men have often their whole fortune at stake upon 
 the burden of their mules, they have their weapons at hand, 
 slung to their saddles, and ready to be snatched down for des- 
 porate defence. But their united numbers render them secure 
 against petty bands of marauders, and the solitary bandalero, 
 armed to the teeth, and mounted on his Andalusian steed, 
 hovers about them, like a pirate about a merchant convoy, 
 without daring to make an assault. 
 
 The Spanish muleteer has an inexhaustible stock of songs 
 and ballads, wi th which to beguile his incessant way-faring. 
 The airs are rude and simple, consisting of but few inflexions. 
 These he chants forth with a loud voice, and long drawling 
 cadence, seated sideways on his mule, who seems to listen with 
 infinite gravity, and to keep time with his paces, to the tune. 
 The couplets thus chanted are often old traditional romances 
 about the Moors ; or some legend of a saint ; or some love ditty ; 
 or, what is still more frequent, some ballad about a bold contra- 
 bandista, or hardy bandalero ; for the smuggler and the robber 
 are poetical heroes among the common people of Spain. Often 
 
10 THE ALHAMBEA. 
 
 the song of the muleteer is composed at the instant, and relates 
 to some local scene, or some incident of the journey. This tuL 
 ent of singing and improvising is frequent in Spain, and is said 
 to have been inherited from the Moors. There is something 
 wildly pleasing in listening to these ditties among the rude and 
 lonely scenes they illustrate, accompanied as they are, by the 
 occasional jingle of the mule-bell. 
 
 It has a most picturesque effect, also, to meet a train of mule j 
 teers in some mountain pass. First you hear the bells of the 
 leading mules, breaking with their simple melody the stillness 
 of the* airy height; or, perhaps, the voice of the muleteer ad 
 monishing some tardy or wandering animal, or chanting, at 
 fche full stretch of his lungs, some traditionary ballad. At 
 length you see the mules slowly winding along the cragged 
 defile, sometimes descending precipitous cliffs, so as to present 
 themselves in full relief against the sky, sometimes toiling up 
 the deep arid chasms below you. As they approach, you descry 
 their gay decorations of worsted tufts, tassels, and saddle- 
 cloths ; while, as they pass by, the ever ready trabucho, slung 
 behind their packs and saddles, gives a hint of the insecurity 
 of the road. 
 
 The ancient kingdom of Granada, into which we are about 
 to penetrate, is one of the most mountainous regions of Spain. 
 Vast sierras or chains of mountains, destitute of shrub or tree, 
 and mottled with variegated marbles and granites, elevate their 
 sun-burnt summits against a deep blue sky, yet in their rugged 
 bosoms lie engulfed the most verdant and fertile valley, where 
 the desert and the garden strive for mastery, and the very rock, 
 as it were, compelled to yield the fig, the orange, and the cit 
 ron, and to blossom with the myrtle and the rose. 
 
 In the wild passes of these mountains, the sight of walled 
 towns and villages built like eagles nests among the cliffs, and 
 surrounded by Moorish battlements, or of ruined watch-towers 
 perched on lofty peaks, carry the mind back to the chivalrous 
 days of Christian and Moslem warfare, and to the romantic 
 struggle for the conquest of Granada. In traversing their lofty 
 Sierras, the traveller is often obliged to alight and lead his horse 
 up and down the steep and jagged ascents and descents, resem 
 bling the broken steps of a staircase. Sometimes the road 
 winds along dizzy precipices, without parapet to guard him 
 from the gulfs below, and then will plunge down steep and 
 dark and dangerous declivities. Sometimes it struggles through 
 rugged barrancos, or ravines, worn by "water torrents; the ob* 
 
THE JOURNEY. H 
 
 scure paths of the Contrabandist^ while ever and anon, the 
 ominous cross, the memento of robbery and murder, erected 
 on a mound of stones at some lonely part of the road, admon 
 ishes the traveller that he is among the haunts of banditti; 
 perhaps, at that very moment, under the eye of some lurking 
 bandalero. Sometimes, in winding through the narrow valleys, 
 he k startled by a horse bellowing, and beholds above him, on 
 some green fold of the mountain side, a herd of fierce Andalu- 
 sian buils, destined for the combat of the arena. There is 
 sometning awful in the contemplation of these terrific animals, 
 clothed with tremendous strength, and ranging their native 
 pastures, in untamed wildness : strangers almost to the face of 
 man. They know no one but the solitary herdsman who attends 
 upon them, and even he at times dares not venture to approach 
 them. The low bellowings of these bulls, and their menacing 
 aspect as they look down from their rocky height, give addi 
 tional wildness to the savage scenery around. 
 
 I have been betrayed unconsciously into a longer disquisition 
 than I had intended on the several features of Spanish travel 
 ling; but there, is a romance about all the recollections of the 
 Peninsula that is dear to the imagination. 
 
 It was on the first of May that my companion and myself 
 set forth from Seville, on our route to Granada. We had made 
 all due preparations for the nature of our journey, which lay 
 through mountainous regions where the roads are little better 
 than mere mule paths, and too frequently beset by robbers. 
 The most valuable part of our luggage had been forwarded by 
 the arrieros ; we retained merely clothing and necessaries for 
 the journey, and money for the expenses of the road, with a 
 sufficient surplus of the latter to satisfy the expectations of 
 robbers, should we be assailed, and to save ourselves from the 
 rough treatment that awaits the too wary and emptyhanded 
 traveller. A couple of stout hired steeds were provided for 
 ourselves, and a third for our scanty luggage, and for the 
 conveyance of a sturdy Biscayan lad of about twenty years of 
 age, who was to guide us through the perplexed mazes of the 
 mountain roads, to take care of our horses, to act occasionally 
 as our valet, and at all times as our guard ; for he had a for 
 midable trabucho, or carbine, to defend us from rateros, or 
 solitary footpads, about which weapon he made much vain 
 glorious boast, though, to the discredit of his generalship, I 
 must say that it generally hung unloaded behind his saddle. 
 He was, however, a faithful, cheery, kind-hearted creature, full 
 
12 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 of saws and proverbs as that miracle of squires, the renowned 
 Sancho himself, whose name we bestowed upon him ; and, like 
 a true Spaniard, though treated by us with companionable 
 familiarity, he never for a moment in his utmost hilarity over 
 stepped the bounds of respectful decorum. 
 
 Thus equipped and attended, we set out on our journey with 
 a genuine disposition to be pleased : with such a disposition, 
 what a country is Spain for a traveller, where the most miser 
 able inn is as full of adventure as an enchanted castle, and 
 every meal is in itself an achievement ! Let others repine at 
 the lack of turnpike roads and sumptuous hotels, and all the 
 elaborate comforts of a country cultivated into tameness and 
 common-place, but give me the rude mountain scramble, the 
 roving haphazard way-faring, the frank, hospitable, though 
 half wild manners, that give such a true game flavour to 
 romantic Spain ! 
 
 Our first evening s entertainment had a relish of the kind. 
 We arrived after sunset at a little town among the hills, after 
 a fatiguing journey over a wide houseless plain, where we had 
 been repeatedly drenched with showers. In the inn were 
 quartered a party of Miguelistas, who were patrolling the 
 country in pursuit of robbers. The appearance of foreigners 
 like ourselves was unusual in this remote town. Mine host with 
 two or three old gossipping comrades in brown cloaks studied 
 our passports in the corner of the posada, while an Alguazil 
 took notes by the dim light of a lamp. The passports were in 
 foreign languages and perplexed them, but our Squire Sancho 
 assisted them in their studies, and magnified our importance 
 with the grandiloquence of a Spaniard. In the mean time the 
 magnificent distribution of a few cigars had won the hearts of 
 all around us. In a little while the whole community seemed 
 put in agitation to make us welcome. The Corregidor himself 
 waited upon us, and a great rush-bottomed armed chair was 
 ostentatiously bolstered into our room by our landlady, foi 
 the accommodation of that important personage. The com 
 mander of the patrol took supper with us : a surly, talking, 
 laughing, swaggering Andaluz, who had made a campaign in 
 South America, and recounted his exploits in love and war 
 with much pomp of praise and vehemence of gesticulation, and 
 mysterious rolling of the eye. He told us he had a list of all 
 the robbers in the country, and meant to ferret out every 
 mother s son of them ; he offered us at the same time some oi 
 his soldiers as an escort. One is enough to protect you, 
 
THE JOURNEY. 13 
 
 Signers ; the robbers know me, and know my men ; the sight 
 of one is enough to spread terror through a whole sierra." 
 We thanked him for his offer, but assured him, in his own 
 strain, that with the protection of our redoubtable Squire 
 Sancho, we were not afraid of all the ladrones of Andalusia. 
 
 While we were supping with our Andalusian friend, we 
 heard the notes of a guitar and the click of castanets, and 
 presently, a chorus of voices, singing a popular air. In fact, 
 mine host had gathered together the amateur singers and 
 musicians and the rustic belles of the neighbourhood, and on 
 going forth, the court-yard of the inn presented a scene of 
 true Spanish festivity. We took our seats with mine host and 
 hostess and the commander of the patrol, under the archway 
 of the court. The guitar passed from hand to hand, but a 
 jovial shoemaker was the Orpheus of the place. He was a 
 pleasant looking fellow with huge black whiskers and a 
 roguish eye. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows; he 
 touched the guitar with masterly skill, and sang little amorous 
 ditties with an expressive leer at the women, with whom he 
 was evidently a favourite. He afterwards danced a fandango 
 with a buxom Andalusian damsel, to the great delight of the 
 spectators. But none of the females present could compare 
 with mine host s pretty daughter Josefa, who had slipped 
 away and made her toilette for the occasion, and had adorned 
 her head with roses ; and also distinguished herself in a bolero 
 with a handsome young dragoon. We had ordered our host 
 to let wine and refreshments circulate freely among the 
 company, yet, though there was a motley assemblage of 
 soldiers, muleteers and villagers, no one exceeded the bounds 
 of sober enjoyment. The scene was a study for a painter : the 
 picturesque group of dancers; the troopers in their half mili 
 tary dresses, the peasantry wrapped in their brown cloaks, 
 nor must I omit to mention the old meagre Alguazil in a short 
 black cloak, who took no notice of any thing going on, but 
 sat in a corner diligently writing by the dim light of a huge 
 copper lamp that might have figured in the days of Don 
 Quixote. 
 
 I am not writing a regular narrative, and do not pretend to 
 give the varied events of several days rambling over hill and 
 dale, and moor and mountain. We travelled in true contra- 
 bandista style, taking every thing, rough and smooth, as we 
 found it, and mingling with all classes and conditions in a 
 kind of vagabond companionship. It is the true way to travel 
 
14 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 in Spain. Knowing the scanty larders of the inns, and the 
 naked tracts of country the traveller has often to traverse, we 
 had taken care, on starting, to have the alforjas, or saddle 
 bags, of our Squire well stocked with cold provisions, and his 
 beta, or leathern bottle, which was of portly dimensions, filled 
 to the neck with choice Valdepenas wine. As this was a 
 munition for our campaign more important than even his; 
 trabucho, we exhorted him to have an eye to it, and I will da 
 him the justice to say that his namesake, the trencher-loving 
 Sancho himself, could not excel him as a provident purveyor. 
 Though the alforjas and beta were repeatedly and vigorously 
 assailed throughout the journey, they appeared to have a 
 miraculous property of being never empty; for our vigilant 
 Squire took care to sack every thing that remained from our 
 evening repasts at the inns, to supply our next day s luncheon. 
 
 What luxurious noontide repasts have we made on the 
 green sward by the side of a brook or fountain under a shady 
 tree, and then what delicious siestas on our cloaks spread out 
 on the herbage ! 
 
 We paused one day at noon, for a repast of the kind. It 
 was in a pleasant little green meadow, surrounded by hills 
 covered with olive trees. Our cloaks were spread on the grass 
 under an elm tree, by the side of a babbling rivulet : our horses 
 were tethered where they might crop the herbage, and Sancho 
 produced his alforjas with an air of triumph. They contained 
 the contributions of four days journeying, but had been sig 
 nally enriched by the foraging of the previous evening, in a 
 plenteous inn at Antequera. Our Squire drew forth the 
 heterogeneous contents one by one, and they seemed to have 
 no end. Fir^t came forth a shoulder of roasted kid, very little 
 the worse for wear, then an entire partridge, then a great 
 morsel of salted codfish wrapped in paper, then the residue of 
 a ham, then the half of a pullet, together with several rolls of 
 bread and a rabble rout of oranges, figs, raisins, and walnuts. 
 His beta also had been recruited with some excellent wine of 
 Malaga. At every fresh apparition from his larder, he could 
 enjoy our ludicrous surprise, throwing himself back on the 
 grass and shouting with laughter. 
 
 Nothing pleased this simple-hearted varlet more than to be 
 compared, for his devotion to the trencher, to the renowned 
 squire of Don Quixote. He was well versed in the history of 
 the Don, and, like most of the common people of Spain, he 
 firmly believed it to be a true history. 
 
TEE JOURNEY. 15 
 
 "All that, however, happened a long time ago, Signor," said 
 he to me, one day, with an inquiring look. 
 
 "A very long time," was the reply. 
 
 "I dare say, more than a thousand years?" still looking 
 dubiously. 
 
 " I dare say ? not less." 
 
 The squire was satisfied. 
 
 As we were making our repast ahove described, and divert 
 ing ourselves with the simple drollery of our squire, a solitary 
 beggar approached us, who had almost the look of a pilgrim. 
 He was evidently very old, with a gray beard, and supported 
 himself on a staff, yet age had not borne him down ; he was 
 tall and erect, and had the wreck of a fine form. He wore 
 a round Andalusian hat, a sheepskin jacket, and leathern 
 breeches, gaiters, and sandals. His dress, though old and 
 patched, was decent, his demeanour manly, and he addressed 
 us with that grave courtesy that is to be remarked in the low 
 est Spaniard. We were in a favourable mood for such a 
 visitor, and in a freak of capricious charity gave him some 
 silver, a loaf of fine wheaten bread, and a goblet of our choice 
 wine of Malaga. He received them thankfully, but without 
 any grovelling tribute of gratitude. Tasting the wine, he held 
 it up to the light, with a slight beam of surprise in his eye ; 
 then quaffing it off at a draught: " It is many years," said he, 
 * since I have tasted such wine. It is a cordial to an old man s 
 heart." Then looking at the beautiful wheaten loaf: " Bendita 
 sea tal pan !" (blessed be such bread !) So saying, he put it in 
 his wallet. We urged him to eat it on the spot. "No, 
 Signers," replied he, "the wine I had to drink, or leave; but 
 the bread I must take home to share with my family." 
 
 Our man Sancho sought our eye, and reading permission 
 there, gave the old man some of the ample fragments of our 
 repast; on condition, however, that he should sit down and 
 make a meal. He accordingly took his seat at some little dis 
 tance from us, and began to eat, slowly, and with a sobriety 
 and decorum that would have become a hidalgo. There was 
 altogether a measured manner and a quiet self-possession about 
 the old man, that made me think he had seen better days ; his 
 language, too, though simple, had occasionally something pic 
 turesque and almost poetical in the phraseology. I set him 
 down for some broken-down cavalier. I was mistaken, it was 
 nothing but the innate courtesy of a Spaniard, and the poetical 
 turn of thought and language often to be found in the lowest 
 
16 THE ALRAMBRA. 
 
 classes of this clear- witted people. For fifty years, he told us, 
 he had been a shepherd, but now he was out of employ, and 
 destitute. "When I was a young man," said he, "nothing 
 could harm or trouble me. I was always well, always gay ; 
 but now I am seventy -nine years of age, and a beggar, and 
 my heart begins to fail me." 
 
 Still he was not a regular mendicant, it was not until 
 recently that want had driven him to this degradation, and he 
 gave a touching picture of the struggle between hunger and 
 pride, when abject destitution first came upon him. He was 
 returning from Malaga, without money; he had not tasted 
 food for some time, and was crossing one of the great plains of 
 Spain, where there were but few habitations. When almost 
 dead with hunger, he applied at the door of a venta, or country 
 inn. "Perdona usted per Dios hermano!" (excuse us, brother, 
 for God s sake!) was the reply; the usual mode in Spain of 
 refusing a beggar. "I turned away," said he, "with shame 
 greater than my hunger, for my heart was yet too proud. I 
 came to a river with high banks and deep rapid current, and 
 felt tempted to throw myself in; what should such an old 
 worthless wretched man as I live for! But when I was on 
 the brink of the current, I thought on the blessed Virgin, and 
 turned away. I travelled on until I saw a country-seat, at a 
 little distance from the road, and entered the outer gate of the 
 court-yard. The door was shut, but there were two young 
 signoras at a window. I approached, and begged : Perdona 
 usted per Dios hermano ! (excuse us, brother, for God s sake !) 
 and the window closed. I crept out of the court-yard; but 
 hunger overcame me, and my heart gave way. I thought my 
 hour was at hand. So I laid myself down at the gate, com 
 mended myself to the holy Virgin, and covered my head to die. 
 In a little while afterwards, the master of the house came 
 home. Seeing me lying at his gate, he uncovered my head, 
 had pity on my gray hairs, took me into his house, and gave 
 me food. So, Signors, you see that we should always put con 
 fidence in the protection of the Virgin." 
 
 The old man was on his way to his native place Archidona, 
 which was close by the summit of a steep and rugged mountain. 
 He pointed to the ruins of its old Moorish castle. That eastle, 
 he said, was inhabited by a Moorish king at the time of the 
 wars of Granada. Queen Isabella invaded it with a great 
 army, but the king looked down from his castle among the 
 clouds, and laughed her to scorn. Upon this, the Virgin 
 
TUE JOURNEY. 17 
 
 appeared to the queen, and guided her and her army up a mys 
 terious path of the mountain, which had never before been 
 known. When the Moor saw her coming, he was astonished, 
 and springing with his horse from a precipice, was dashed to 
 pieces. The marks of his horse s hoofs, said the old man, are 
 to be seen on the margin of the rock to this day. And see, 
 Signors, yonder is the road by which the queen and her arm} 
 mounted, you see it like a riband up the mountain side ; but 
 the miracle is, that, though it can be seen at a distance, when 
 you come near, it disappears. The ideal road to which he 
 pointed, was evidently a sandy ravine of the mountain, which 
 looked narrow and denned at a distance, but became broad and 
 indistinct on an approach. As the old man s heart warmed 
 with wine and wassail, he went on to tell us a story of the 
 buried treasure left under the earth by the Moorish king. His 
 own house was next to the foundations of the castle. The 
 curate and notary dreamt three times of the treasure, and 
 went to work at the place pointed out in their dreams. His 
 own son-in-law heard the sound of their pick-axes and spades 
 at night. What they found nobody knows ; they became sud 
 denly rich, but kept their own secret. Thus the old man had 
 once been next door to fortune, but was doomed never to get 
 under the same roof. 
 
 I have remarked that the stories of treasure buried by the 
 Moors, which prevail throughout Spain, are most current 
 among the poorest people. It is thus kind nature consoles 
 with shadows for the lack of substantials. The thirsty man 
 dreams of fountains and roaring streams, the hungry man of 
 ideal banquets, and the poor man of heaps of hidden gold; 
 nothing certainly is more magnificent than the imagination of 
 a beggar. 
 
 The last travelling sketch which I shall give is a curious 
 scene at the little city of Loxa. This was a famous belligerent 
 frontier post, in the time of the Moors, and repulsed Ferdinand 
 from its walls. It was the strong-hold of old Ali Atar, the 
 father-in-law of Boabdil, when that fiery veteran sallied forth 
 with his son-in-law, on that disastrous inroad, that ended in 
 the death of the chieftain, and the capture of the monarch. 
 Loxa is wildly situated in a broken mountain pass, on the 
 banks of the Xenil, among rocks and groves, and meadows 
 and gardens. The people seem still to retain the bold fiery 
 spirit of the olden time. Our inn was suited to the place. It 
 was kept by a young, handsome, Andalusian widow, whose 
 
18 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 trim busquina of black silk fringed with bugles, set off the 
 play of a graceful form, and round pliant limbs. Her step was 
 firm and elastic, her dark eye was full of fire, and the coquetry 
 of her air and varied ornaments of her person showed that 
 she was accustomed to be admired. 
 
 She was well matched by a brother, nearly about her own 
 age; they were perfect models of the Andalusian ma jo and 
 maja. He was tall, vigorous, and well formed, with a clear, 
 olive complexion, a dark beaming eye, and curling, chestnut 
 whiskers, that met under his chin. He was gallantly dressed 
 in a short green velvet jacket, fitted to his shape, profusely 
 decorated with silver buttons, with a white handkerchief in 
 each pocket. He had breeches of the same, with rows of but 
 tons from the hips to the knees ; a pink silk handkerchief round 
 his neck, gathered through a ring, on the bosom of a neatly 
 plaited shirt; a sash round the waist to match; bottinas or 
 spatterdashes of the finest russet leather, elegantly worked and 
 open at the calves to show his stockings, and russet shoes set 
 ting off a well-shaped foot. 
 
 As he was standing at the door, a horseman rode up and 
 entered into low and earnest conversation with him. He was 
 dressed in similar style, and almost with equal finery. A man 
 about thirty, square built, with strong Roman features, hand 
 some, though slightly pitted with the small-pox, with a free, 
 bold and somewhat daring air. His powerful black horse was 
 decorated with tassels and fanciful trappings, and a couple of 
 broad-mouthed blunderbusses hung behind the saddle. He had 
 the air of those contraband istas that I have seen in the moun 
 tains of Ronda, and, evidently, had a good understanding with 
 the brother of mine hostess ; nay, if I mistake not, he was a 
 favourite admirer of the widow. In fact, the whole inn and its 
 inmates had something of a contrabandista aspect, and the 
 blunderbuss stood in a corner beside the guitar. The horseman 
 I have mentioned, passed his evening in the posada, and sang 
 several bold mountain romances with great spirit. 
 
 As we were at supper, two poor Asturians put in in distress, 
 begging food and a night s lodging. They had been waylaid by 
 robbers as they ^am.e from a fair among the mountains, robbed 
 of a horse, which carried all their stock in trade, stripped of 
 their money and most of their apparel, beaten for having 
 offered resistance, and left almost naked in the road. My com 
 panion, with a prompt generosity, natural to him, ordered them 
 
THE JOURNEY. 19 
 
 a supper and a bed, and gave them a supply of money to help 
 them forward towards their home. 
 
 As the evening advanced, the dramatis personse thickened. 
 A large man, about sixty years of age, of powerful frame, came 
 strolling in, to gossip with mine hostess. He was dressed in 
 the ordinary Andalusian costume, but had a huge sabre tucked 
 under his arm, wore large moustaches and had something of a 
 lofty swaggering air. Every one seemed to regard him with 
 great deference. 
 
 Our man, Sancho, whispered to us that he was Don Ventura 
 Rodriguez, the hero and champion of Loxa, famous for his 
 prowess and the strength of his arm . In the time of the French 
 invasion, he surprised six troopers who were asleep. He first 
 secured their horses, then attacked them with his sabre ; killed 
 some, and took the rest prisoners. For this exploit, the king 
 allows him a peceta, (the fifth of a duro, or dollar,) per day, 
 and has dignified him with the title of Don. 
 
 I was amused to notice his swelling language and demeanour. 
 He was evidently a thorough Andalusian, boastful as he was 
 brave. His sabre was always in his hand, or under his arm. 
 He carries it always about with him as a child does a doll, calls 
 it his Santa Teresa, and says, that when he draws it, " tembla 
 la tierra!" (the earth trembles!) 
 
 I sat until a late hour listening to the varied themes of this 
 motley group, who mingled together with the unreserve of a 
 Spanish posada. We had contrabandista songs, stories of ^b- 
 bers, guerilla exploits, and Moorish legends. The last one from 
 our handsome landlady, who gave a poetical account of the 
 infiernos, or infernal regions of Loxa dark caverns, in which 
 subterraneous streams and waterfalls make a mysterious sound. 
 The common people say they are money coiners, shut up there 
 from the time of the Moors, and that the Moorish kings kept 
 their treasures in these caverns. 
 
 Were it the purport of this work, I could fill its pages with 
 the incidents and scenes of our rambling expedition, but other 
 themes invite me. Journeying in this manner, we at length 
 emerged from the mountains, and entered upon the beautiful 
 Vega of Granada. Here we took our last mid-day s repast 
 under a grove of olive trees, on the borders of a rivulet, with 
 the old Moorish capital in the distance, dominated by the ruddy 
 towers of the Alhambra, while far above it the snowy summits 
 of the Sierra Nevada shone like silver. The day was without 
 
20 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 a cloud, and the heat of the sun tempered by cool breezes from 
 the mountains ; after our repast, we spread our cloaks and took 
 our last siesta, lulled by the humming of bees among the flow 
 ers, and the notes of the ring doves from the neighbouring 
 olive trees. When the sultry hours were past, we resumed 
 our journey, and after passing between hedges of aloes and 
 Indian figs, and through a wilderness of gardens, arrived about 
 sunset at the gates of Granada. 
 
 GOVERNMENT OF THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 To the traveller imbued with a feeling for the historical and 
 poetical, the Alhambra of Granada is as much an object of 
 veneration as is the Caaba, or sacred house of Mecca, to all true 
 Moslem pilgrims. How many legends and traditions, true and 
 fabulous, how many songs and romances, Spanish and Arabian, 
 of love and war and chivalry, are associated with this romantic 
 pile ! The reader may judge, therefore, of our delight, when, 
 shortly after our arrival in Granada, the governor of Alhambra 
 gave us permission to occupy his vacant apartments in the 
 Moorish palace. My companion was soon summoned away by 
 the duties of his station, but I remained for several months 
 spell-bound in the old enchanted pile. The following papers 
 are the result of my reveries and researches, during that deli 
 cious thraldom. If they have the power of imparting any of 
 the witching charms of the place to the imagination of the 
 reader, he will not repine at lingering with me for a season in 
 the legendary halls of the Alhambra. 
 
 THE Alhambra is an ancient fortress or castellated palace of 
 the Moorish kings of Granada, where they held dominion over 
 this their boasted terrestrial paradise, and made their last 
 stand for empire in Spain. The palace occupies but a portion 
 of the fortress, the walls of which, studded with towers, stretch 
 irregularly round the whole crest of a lofty hill that overlooks 
 the city, and forms a spire of the Sierra Nevada, or Snowy 
 Mountain. 
 
 In the time of the Moors, the fortress was capable of contain 
 ing an army of forty thousand men within its precincts, and 
 served occasionally as a strong-hold of the sovereigns against 
 
GOVERNMENT OF THE ALHAMBRA. 21 
 
 their rebellious subjects. After the kingdom had passed into 
 the hands of the Christians, the Alhambra continued a royal 
 demesne, and was occasionally inhabited by the Castilian 
 monarchs. The Emperor Charles V. began a sumptuous 
 palace within its walls, but was deterred from completing it by 
 repeated shocks of earthquakes. The last royal residents were 
 Philip V. and his beautiful Queen Elizabetta, of Parma, early 
 in the eighteenth century. 
 
 Great preparations were made for their reception. The 
 palace and gardens were placed in a state of repair ; and a new 
 suite of apartments erected, and decorated by artists brought 
 from Italy. The sojourn of the sovereigns was transient; 
 and, after their departure, the palace once more became deso 
 late. Still the place was maintained with some military state. 
 The governor held it immediately from the crown : its jurisdic 
 tion extended down into the suburbs of the city, and was 
 independent of the captain general of Granada. A consider 
 able garrison was kept up ; the governor had his apartments 
 in the old Moorish palace, and never descended into Granada 
 without some military parade. The fortress, in fact, was a 
 little town of itself, having several streets of houses within its 
 walls, together with a Franciscan convent and a parochial 
 church. 
 
 The desertion of the court, however, was a fatal blow to the 
 Alhambra. Its beautiful walls became desolate, and some of 
 them fell to ruin ; the gardens were destroyed, and the foun 
 tains ceased to play. By degrees the dwellings became filled 
 up with a loose and lawless population ; contrabandistas, who 
 availed themselves of its independent jurisdiction, to carry on 
 a wide and daring course of smuggling, and thieves and rogues 
 of all sorts, who made this their place of refuge, from whence 
 they might depredate upon Granada and its vicinity. The 
 strong arm of government at length interposed. The whole 
 community was thoroughly sifted; none were suffered to 
 remain but such as were of honest character and had legiti 
 mate right to a residence ; the greater part of the houses were 
 demolished, and a mere hamlet left, with the parochial church 
 and the Franciscan convent. 
 
 During the recent troubles in Spain, when Granada was in 
 the hands of the French, the Alhambra was garrisoned by 
 their troops, and the palace was occasionally inhabited by the 
 French commander. With that enlightened taste which has 
 ever distinguished the French nation in their conquests, this 
 
22 THE- ALRAMBRA. 
 
 monument of Moorish elegance and grandeur was rescued 
 from the absolute ruin and desolation that were overwhelming 
 it. The roofs were repaired, the saloons and galleries pro 
 tected from the weather, the gardens cultivated, the water 
 courses restored, the fountains once more made to throw up 
 their sparkling showers : and Spain may thank her invaders 
 for having preserved to her the most beautiful and interesting 
 of her historical monuments. 
 
 On the departure of the French, they blew up several towers 
 of the outer wall, and left the fortifications scarcely tenable. 
 Since that time, the military importance of the post is at an 
 end. The garrison is a handful of invalid soldiers, whose prin 
 cipal duty is to guard some of the outer towers, which serve, 
 occasionally, as a prison of state ; and the governor, abandon- 
 in g the lofty hill of the Alhambra, resides in the centre of 
 Granada, for the more convenient despatch of his official 
 duties. I cannot conclude this brief notice of the state of the 
 fortress, without bearing testimony to the honourable exertions 
 of its present commander, Don Francisco de Salis Serna, who 
 is tasking all the limited resources at his command, to put the 
 palace in a state of repair ; and by his judicious precautions 
 has for some time arrested its too certain decay. Had his 
 predecessors discharged the duties of their station with equal 
 fidelity, the Alhambra might yet have remained in almost its 
 pristine beauty ; were government to second him with means 
 equal to his zeal, this edifice might still be preserved to adorn 
 the land, and to attract the curious and enlightened of every 
 clime, for many generations. 
 
 INTERIOR OF THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 THE Alhambra has been so often and so minutely described 
 by travellers, that a mere sketch will probably be sufficient 
 for the reader to refresh his recollection ; I will give, therefore, 
 a brief account of our visit to it the morning after our arrival 
 in Granada. 
 
 Leaving our posada of La Espada, we traversed the renowned 
 square of the Vivarrambla, once the scene of Moorish jousts 
 and tournaments, now a crowded market place. From thence 
 we proceeded along the Zncatin, the main street of what was 
 
INTERIOR OF THE ALHAMBRA. 23 
 
 the great Bazaar, in the time of the Moors, where the small 
 shops and narrow alleys still retain their Oriental character. 
 Crossing an open place in front of the palace of the captain- 
 general, we ascended a confined and winding street, the name 
 of which reminded us of the chivalric days of Granada. It is 
 called the Calle, or street of the Gomeres: from a Moorish 
 family, famous in chronicle and song. This street led up to a 
 mansion gateway of Grecian architecture, built by Charles V., 
 forming the entrance to the domains of the Alhambra. 
 
 At the gate were two or three ragged and superannuated 
 soldiers, dozing on a stone bench, the successors of the Zegris 
 and the Abencerrages ; while a tall, meagre varlet, whoso 
 rusty brown cloak was, evidently, intended to conceal the 
 ragged state of his nether garments, was lounging in the sun 
 shine, and gossipping with an ancient sentinel, on duty. He 
 joined us as we entered the gate, and offered his services to 
 showed us the fortress. 
 
 I have a traveller s dislike to officious ciceroni, and did not 
 altogether like the garb of the applicant: 
 
 " You are well acquainted with the place, I presume?" 
 " Nifiguno mas puee, senor, soy hijo de la Alhambra." 
 (Nobody better in fact, sir, I am a son of the Alhambra.) 
 The common Spaniards have certainly a most poetical way of 
 expressing themselves " A son of the Alhambra:" the appel 
 lation caught me at once ; the very tattered garb of my new 
 acquaintance assumed a dignity in my eyes. It was emble 
 matic of the features of the place, and became the progeny of a 
 ruin. 
 
 I put some further questions to him, and found his title was 
 legitimate. His family had lived in the fortress from genera 
 tion to generation ever since the time of the conquest. His 
 name was Mateo Ximenes. "Then, perhaps," said I, "you 
 may be a descendant from the great Cardinal Ximenes. " 
 
 "Dios sabe! God knows, senor. It may be so. We are the 
 oldest family in the Alhambra. Viejos Cristianos, old Chris 
 tians, without any taint of Moor or Jew. I know we belong to 
 some great family or other; but I forget who. My father 
 knows all about it. He has the coat of arms hanging up in 
 his cottage, up in the fortress." There is never a Spaniard, 
 however poor, but has some claim to high pedigree. The first 
 title of this ragged worthy, however, had completely captivated 
 me. so I gladly accepted the services of the "son of the Al 
 hambra." 
 
24 THE ALUAMBRA. 
 
 We now found ourselves in a deep narrow ravine, filled with 
 beautiful groves, with a steep avenue and various foot-paths 
 winding through it, bordered with stone seats and ornamented 
 with fountains. To our left, we beheld the towers of the Al- 
 hambra beetling above us ; to our right, on the opposite side of 
 the ravine, we were equally dominated by rival towers on a 
 rocky eminence. These, we were told, were the Torres Ver- 
 mejos, or Vermilion towers, so called from their ruddy hue, 
 No one knows their origin. They are of a date much anterioi 
 to the Alhambra. Some suppose them to have been built by 
 the Romans ; others, by some wandering colony of Phoenicians. 
 Ascending the steep and shady avenue, we arrived at the fool 
 of a huge square Moorish tower, forming a kind of barbican r 
 through which passed the" main entrance to the fortress^ 
 Within the barbican was another group of veteran invalids, 
 one mounting guard at the portal, while the rest, wrapped in 
 their tattered cloaks, slept on the stone benches. This portal 
 is called the Gate of Justice, from the tribunal held within its 
 porch during the Moslem domination, for the immediate trial 
 of petty causes ; a custom common to the Oriental nations, and 
 occasionally alluded to in the sacred Scriptures. 
 
 The great vestibule, or porch of the gate, is formed by an 
 immense Arabian arch of the horseshoe form, which springs 
 to half the height of the tower. On the key-stone of this arch 
 is engraven a gigantic hand. Within the vestibule, on the 
 key-stone of the portal, is engraven, in like manner, a gigantic 
 key. Those who pretend to some knowledge of Mahometan 
 symbols, affirm, that the hand is the emblem of doctrine, and 
 the key, of faith ; the latter, they add, was emblazoned on the 
 standard of the Moslems when they subdued Andalusia, in op 
 position to the Christian emblem of the cross. A different ex 
 planation, however, was given by the legitimate "son of the 
 Alhambra, " and one more in unison with the notions of the 
 common people, who attach something of mystery and magic 
 to everything Moorish, and have all kinds of superstitions 
 con-nected with this old Moslem fortress. 
 
 According to Mateo, it was a tradition handed down from 
 the oldest inhabitants, and which he had from his father and 
 grandfather, that the hand and key were magical devices on 
 which the fate of the Alhambra depended. The Moorish king 
 who built it was a great magician, and, as some believed, had 
 sold himself to the devil, and had laid the whole fortress under 
 M magic spell. By this means it had remained standing for 
 
INTERIOR OF THE ALHAMBRA. 2% 
 
 several hundred years, in defiance of storms and earthquakes, 
 while almost all the other buildings of the Moors had fallen to 
 ruin and disappeared. The spell, the tradition went on to say, 
 would last until the hand on the outer arch should reach down 
 and grasp the key, when the whole pile would tumble to pieces,, 
 and all the treasures buried beneath it by the Moors would be 
 revealed. 
 
 Notwithstanding this ominous prediction, we ventured to 
 pass through the spell-bound gateway, feeling some little as 
 surance against magic art in the protection of the Virgin, a 
 statue of whom we observed above the portal. 
 
 After passing through the Barbican, we ascended a narrow 
 lane, winding between walls, and came on a-ii open esplanade 
 within the fortress, called the Plaza de los Algibes, or Place of 
 the Cisterns, from great reservoirs which undermine it, cut in 
 the living rock by the Moors, for the supply of the fortress. 
 Here, also, is a well of immense depth, furnishing the purest 
 and coldest of water, another monument of the delicate taste 
 of the Moors, who were indefatigable in their exertions to ob 
 tain that element in its crystal purity. 
 
 In front of this esplanade is the splendid pile, commenced by 
 Charles V., intended, it is said, to eclipse the residence of the 
 Moslem kings. With all its grandeur and architectural merit, 
 it appeared to us like an arrogant intrusion, and passing by it 
 we entered a simple unostentatious portal, opening into the in 
 terior of the Moorish palace. 
 
 The transition was almost magical ; it seemed as if we were 
 at once transported into other times and another realm, and 
 were treading the scenes of Arabian story. We found our 
 selves in a great court paved with white marble and decorated 
 at each end with light Moorish peristyles. It is called the 
 court of the Alberca. In the centre was an immense basin, or 
 fish-pool, a hundred and thirty feet in length, by thirty in 
 breadth, stocked with gold-fish, and bordered by hedges of 
 roses. At the upper end of this court, rose the great tower of 
 Gomares. 
 
 From the lower end, we passed through a Moorish arch- way 
 into the renowned Court of Lions. There is no part of the edi 
 fice that gives us a more complete idea of its original beauty 
 and magnificence than this ; for none has suffered so little from 
 the ravages of time. In the centre stands the fountain famous 
 in song and story. The alabaster basins still shed their dia 
 mond drops, and the twelve lions which support them, cast 
 
26 ^S^ ALHAMBHA. 
 
 forth their crystal streams as in the days of Boabdil. The 
 court is laid out in flower beds, and surrounded by light Ara 
 bian arcades of open filigree work, supported by slender pil 
 lars of white marble. The architecture, like that of all the 
 other parts of the palace, is characterized by elegance, rather 
 than grandeur, bespeaking a delicate and graceful taste, and a 
 disposition to indolent enjoyment. When we look upon the 
 fairy tracery of the peristyles, and the apparently fragile fret 
 work of the walls, it is difficult to believe that so much has 
 survived the wear and tear of centuries, the shocks of earth 
 quakes, the violence of war, and the quiet, though no less 
 baneful, pilferings of the tasteful traveller. It is almost suffi 
 cient to excuse the popular tradition, that the whole is pro 
 tected by a magic charm. 
 
 On one side of the court, a portal richly adorned opens into 
 a lofty hall paved with white marble, and called the Hall of 
 the two Sisters. A cupola or lantern admits a tempered light 
 from above, and a free circulation of air. The lower part of 
 the walls is incrusted with beautiful Moorish tiles, on some of 
 which are emblazoned the escutcheons of the Moorish mon- 
 archs : the upper part is faced with the fine stucco work in 
 vented at Damascus, consisting of large plates cast in moulds 
 and artfully joined, so as to have the appearance of having 
 been laboriously sculptured by the hand into light relievos and 
 fanciful arabesques, intermingled with texts of the Koran, and 
 poetical inscriptions in Arabian and Celtic characters. These 
 decorations of the walls and cupolas are richly gilded, and the 
 interstices panelled with lapis lazuli and other brilliant and en 
 during colours. On each side of the wall are recesses for otto 
 mans and arches. Above an inner porch, is a balcony which 
 communicated with the women s apartment. The latticed bal 
 conies still remain, from whence the dark-eyed beauties of the 
 harem might gaze unseen upon the entertainments of the hall 
 below. 
 
 It is impossible to contemplate this once favourite abode of 
 Oriental manners, without feeling the early associations of 
 Arabian romance, and almost expecting to see the white arm 
 of some mysterious princess beckoning from the balcony, or 
 some dark eye sparkling through the lattice. The abode of 
 beauty is here, as if it had been inhabited but yesterday but 
 where are the Zoraydas and Linderaxas ! 
 
 On the opposite side of the court of Lions, is the hall of the 
 Abencerrages, so called from the gallant cavaliers of that 
 
INTERIOR OF THE ALHAMBRA. 27 
 
 illustrious line, who were here perfidiously massacred. There 
 are some who doubt the whole truth of this story, but our 
 humble attendant, Mateo, pointed out the very wicket of the 
 portal through which they are said to have been introduced, 
 one by one, and the white marble fountain in the centre of the 
 hall, where they were beheaded. He showed us also certain 
 broad ruddy stains in the pavement, traces of their blood, 
 which, according to popular belief, can never be effaced. 
 Finding we listened to him with easy faith, he added, that 
 there was often heard at night, in the Court of the Lions, a 
 low confused sound, resembling the murmurings of a multi 
 tude; with now and then a faint tinkling, like the distant 
 clank of chains. These noises are probably produced by the 
 bubbling currents and tinkling falls of water, conducted under 
 the pavement through pipes and channels to supply the foun 
 tains ; but according to the legend of the son of the Alhambra, 
 they are made by the spirits of the murdered Abencerrages, 
 who nightly haunt the scene of their suffering, and invoke the 
 vengeance of Heaven on their destroyer. 
 
 From the Court of Lions, we retraced our steps through the 
 court of the Alberca, or great fish-pool, crossing which, we pro 
 ceeded to the tower of Comares, so called from the name of 
 the Arabian architect. It is of massive strength, and lofty 
 height, domineering over the rest of the edifice, and overhang 
 ing the steep hill-side, which descends abruptly to the banks of 
 the Darro. A Moorish archway admitted us into a vast and 
 lofty hall, which occupies the interior of the tower, and was 
 the grand audience chamber of the Moslem monarchs, thence 
 called the hall of Ambassadors. It still bears the traces of 
 past magnificence. The walls are richly stuccoed and dec 
 orated with arabesques, the vaulted ceilings of cedar wood, 
 almost lost in obscurity from its height, still gleam with rich 
 gilding and the brilliant tints of the Arabian pencil. On three 
 sides of the saloon are deep windows, cut through the im 
 mense thickness of the walls, the balconies of which look 
 down upon the verdant valley of the Darro, the streets and 
 convents of the Albaycin, and command a prospect of the dis 
 tant Vega. I might go on to describe the other delightful 
 apartments of this side of the palace ; the Tocador or toilet of 
 the Queen, an open belvedere on the summit of the tower, 
 where the Moorish sultanas enjoyed the pure breezes from the 
 mountain and the prospect of the surrounding paradise. The 
 secluded little patio or garden of Lindaraxa, with its alabaster 
 
28 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 fountain, its thickets of roses and myrtles, of citrons and 
 oranges. The cool halls and grottoes of the baths, where the 
 glare and heat of day are tempered into a self -mysterious light 
 and a pervading freshness. But I appear to dwell minutely 
 on these scenes. My object is merely to give the reader a gen 
 eral introduction into an abode, where, if disposed, he may 
 linger and loiter with me through the remainder of this work, 
 gradually becoming familiar with all its beauties. 
 
 An abundant supply of water, brought from the mountains 
 by old Moorish aqueducts, circulates throughout the palace, 
 supplying its baths and fish-pools, sparkling in jets within its 
 halls, or murmuring in channels along the marble pavements. 
 When it has paid its tribute to the royal pile, and visited its 
 gardens and pastures, it flows down the long avenue leading 
 to the city, tinkling in rills, gushing in fountains, and main 
 taining a perpetual verdure in those groves that embower and 
 beautify the whole hill of the Alhambra. 
 
 Those, only, who have sojourned in the ardent climates of 
 the South, can appreciate the delights of an abode combining 
 the breezy coolness of the mountain with the freshness and 
 verdure of the valley. 
 
 While the city below pants with the noon-tide heat, and the 
 parched Vega trembles to the eye, the delicate airs from the 
 Sierra Nevada play through the lofty halls, bringing with 
 them the sweetness of the surrounding gardens. Every thing 
 invites to that indolent repose, the bliss of Southern climes; 
 and while the half -shut eye looks out from shaded balconies 
 upon the glittering landscape, the ear is lulled by the rustling 
 of groves, and the murmur of running streams. 
 
 THE TOWEE OF COMAEES. 
 
 THE reader has had a sketch of the interior of the Alhambra, 
 and may be desirous of a general idea of its vicinity. The 
 morning is serene and lovely; the sun has not gained suffi 
 cient power to destroy the freshness of the night; we will 
 mount to the summit of the tower of Comares, and take a 
 bird s-eye view of Granada and its environs. 
 
 Come, then, worthy reader and comrade, follow my steps 
 into this vestibule ornamented with rich tracery, which opens 
 to the hall of Ambassadors. We will not enter the hall, how 
 
THE TOWER OF COMAKES. 29 
 
 ever, but turn to the left, to this small door, opening in the 
 wall. Have a care! here are steep winding steps and but 
 scanty light. Yet, up this narrow, obscure and winding stair 
 case, the proud monarchs of Granada and their queens have 
 often ascended to the battlements of the tower to watch the 
 approach of Christian armies ; or to gaze on the battles in the 
 Vega. At length we are upon the terraced roof, and may take 
 breath for a moment, while we cast a general eye over the 
 splendid panorama of city and country, of rocky mountain, 
 verdant valley and fertile plain ; of castle, cathedral, Moorish 
 towers and Gothic domes, crumbling ruins and blooming 
 groves. 
 
 Let us approach the battlements and cast our eyes imme 
 diately below. See, on this side we have the whole plan of 
 the Alhambra laid open to us, and can look down into its 
 courts and gardens. At the foot of the tower is the Court of 
 the Alberca with its great tank or fish-pool bordered with 
 flowers; and yonder is the Court of Lions, with its famous 
 fountain, and its light Moorish arcades; and in the centre of 
 the pile is the little garden of Lindaraxa, buried in the heart 
 of the building, with its roses and citrons and shrubbery of 
 emerald green. 
 
 That belt of battlements studded with square towers, strag 
 gling round the whole brow of the hill, is the outer boundary 
 of the fortress. Some of the towers, you may perceive, are in 
 ruins, and their massive fragments are buried among vines, 
 fig-trees and aloes. 
 
 Let us look on this northern side of the tower. It is a giddy 
 height; the very foundations of the tower rise above the 
 groves of the steep hill-side. And see, a long fissure in the 
 massive walls shows that the tower has been rent by some of 
 the earthquakes, which from time to time have thrown Grana 
 da into consternation ; and which, sooner or later, must reduce 
 this crumbling pile to a mere mass of ruin. The deep narrow 
 glen below us, which gradually widens as it opens from the 
 mountains, is the valley of the Darro ; you see the little river 
 winding its way under embowered terraces, and among or 
 chards and flower gardens. It is a stream famous in old tunes 
 for yielding gold, and its sands are still sifted, occasionally, in 
 search of the precious ore. 
 
 Some of those white pavilions which here and there gleam 
 from among groves and vineyards, were rustic retreats of the 
 Moors, to enjoy the refreshment of their gardens. 
 
30 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 The airy palace with its tall white towers and long arcades, 
 which breast yon mountain, among pompous groves and hang 
 ing gardens, is the Generaliffe, a summer palace of the Moor 
 ish kings, to which they resorted during the sultry months, 
 to enjoy a still more breezy region than that of the Alhambra. 
 The naked summit of the height above it, where you behold 
 some shapeless ruins, is the Silla del Moro, or seat of the Moor; 
 so called from having been a retreat of the unfortunate Boab- 
 dil, during the time of an insurrection, where he seated himself 
 and looked down mournfully upon his rebellious city. 
 
 A murmuring sound of water now and then rises from the 
 valley. It is from the aqueduct of yon Moorish mill nearly at 
 the foot of the hill. The avenue of trees beyond, is the Ala- 
 meda along the bank of the Darro, a favourite resort in even 
 ings, and a rendezvous of lovers in the summer nights, when 
 the guitar may be heard at a late hour from the benches along 
 its walks. At present there are but a few loitering monks to 
 be seen there, and a group of water carriers from the fountain 
 of Avellanos. 
 
 You start ! Tis nothing but a hawk we have frightened 
 from his nest. This old tower is a complete brooding-place for 
 vagrant birds. The swallow and martlet abound in every 
 chink and cranny, and circle about it the whole day long ; 
 while at night, when all other birds have gone to rest, the mop 
 ing owl comes out of its lurking place, and utters its boding 
 cry from the battlements. See how the hawk we have dis 
 lodged sweeps away below us, skimming over the tops of the 
 trees, and sailing up to ruins above the Generaliffe. 
 
 Let us leave this side of the tower and turn our eyes to the 
 west. Here you behold in the distance a range of mountains 
 bounding the Vega, the ancient barrier between Moslem Grana 
 da and the land of the Christians. Among the heights you 
 may still discern warrior towns, whose gray walls and battle 
 ments seem of a piece with the rocks on which they are built; 
 while here and there is a solitary atalaya or watch-tower, 
 mounted on some lofty point, and looking down as if it were 
 from the sky, into the valleys on either side. It was down the 
 defiles of these mountains, by the pass of Lope, that the Chris 
 tian armies descended into the Vega. It was round the base 
 of yon gray and naked mountain, almost insulated from the 
 rest, and stretching its bald rocky promontory into the bosom 
 of the plain, that the invading squadrons would come bursting 
 into view, with flaunting banners and the clangour of drums 
 
THE TOWER OF COM ARES. 31 
 
 and trumpets. How changed is the scene! Instead of the 
 glittering line of mailed warriors, we behold the patient train 
 of the toilful muleteer, slowly moving along the skirts of the 
 mountain. 
 
 Behind that promontory, is the eventful bridge of Pinos, 
 renowned for many a bloody strife between Moors and Chris 
 tians ; but still more renowned as being the place where Co 
 lumbus was overtaken and called back by the messenger of 
 Queen Isabella, just as he was departing in despair to carry 
 his project of discovery to the court of France. 
 
 Behold another place famous in the history of the discoverer: 
 yon line of walls and towers, gleaming in the morning sun in 
 the very centre of the Vega ; the city of Santa Fe, built by the 
 Catholic sovereigns during the siege of Granada, after a con 
 flagration bad destroyed their camp. It was to these walls 
 that Columbus was called back by the heroic queen, and within 
 them the treaty was concluded that led to the discovery of the 
 Western World. 
 
 Here, towards the south, the eye revels on the luxuriant 
 beauties of the Vega ; a blooming wilderness of grove and gar 
 den, and teeming orchards ; with the Xenil winding through 
 it in silver links and feeding innumerable rills, conducted 
 through ancient Moorish channels, which maintain the land 
 scape in perpetual verdure. Here are the beloved bowers and 
 gardens, and rural retreats for which the Moors fought with 
 such desperate valour. The very farm-houses and hovels 
 which are now inhabited by the boors, retain traces of ara 
 besques and other tasteful decorations, which show them to 
 have been elegant residences in the days of the Moslems. 
 
 Beyond the embowered region of the Vega you behold, to 
 the south, a line of , arid hills down which a long train of mules 
 is slowly moving. It was from the summit of one of those 
 hills that the unfortunate Boabdil cast back his last look upon 
 Granada and gave vent to the agony of his soul. It is the spot 
 famous in song and story, The last sigh of the Moor. " 
 
 Now raise your eyes to the snowy summit of yon pile of 
 mountains, shining like a white summer cloud on the blue sky. 
 It is the Sierra Nevada, the pride and delight of Granada ; the 
 source of her cooling breezes and perpetual verdure, of her 
 gushing fountains and perennial streams. It is this glorious 
 pile of mountains that gives to Granada that combination of 
 delights so rare in a southern city. The fresh vegetation, and 
 the temperate airs of a northern climate, with the vivifying 
 
32 THE ALUAMBRA. 
 
 ardour of a tropical sun, and the cloudless azure of a southern 
 sky. It is this aerial treasury of snow, which, melting in 
 proportion to the increase of the summer heat, sends down 
 rivulets and streams through every glen and gorge of the Al- 
 puxarras, diffusing emerald verdure and fertility throughout a 
 chain of happy and sequestered valleys. 
 
 These mountains may well be called the glory of Granada. 
 They dominate the whole extent of Andalusia, and may b( 
 seen from its most distant parts. The muleteer hails them as 
 he views their frosty peaks from the sultry level of the plain ; 
 and the Spanish mariner on the deck of his bark, far, far off, 
 on the bosom of the blue Mediterranean, watches them with a 
 pensive eye, thinks of delightful Granada, and chants in low 
 voice some old romance about the Moors. 
 
 But enough, the sun is high above the mountains, and is 
 pouring his full fervour upon our heads. Already the terraced 
 roof of the town is hot beneath our feet, let us abandon it, and 
 descend and refresh ourselves under the arcades by the foun 
 tain of the Lions. 
 
 REFLECTIONS . 
 
 ON THE MOSLEM DOMINATION IN SPAIN. 
 
 ONE of my favourite resorts ir. the balcony of the central 
 window of the Hall of Ambassadors, in the lofty tower of 
 Comares. I have just been seated there, enjoying the close of 
 a long brilliant day. The sun, as he sank behind the purple 
 mountains of Alhama, sent a stream of effulgence up the val 
 ley of the Darro, that spread a melancholy pomp over tho 
 ruddy towers of the Alhambra, while the Vega, covered with 
 a slight sultry vapour that caught the setting ray, seemed 
 spread out in the distance like a golden sea. Not a breath of 
 air disturbed the stillness of the hour, and though the faint 
 sound of music and merriment now and then arose from the 
 gardens of the Darro, it but rendered more impressive the 
 monumental silence of the pile which overshadowed me. It 
 was one of those hours and scenes in which memory asserts an 
 almost magical power, and, like the evening sun beaming on 
 these mouldering towers, sends back her retrospective rays to 
 light up the glories of the past. 
 
REFLECTIONS. 33 
 
 As I sat watching the effect of the declining daylight upon 
 this Moorish pile, I was led into a consideration of the light, 
 elegant and voluptuous character prevalent throughout its 
 internal architecture, and to contrast it with the grand but 
 gloomy solemnity of the Gothic edifices, reared by the Spanish 
 conquerors. The very architecture thus bespeaks the opposite 
 and irreconcilable natures of the two warlike people, who so 
 long battled here for the mastery of the Peninsula. By de 
 grees I fell into a course of musing upon the singular features 
 of the Arabian or Morisco Spaniards, whose whole existence is 
 as a tale that is told, and certainly forms one of the most 
 anomalous yet splendid episodes in history. Potent and dura 
 ble as was their dominion, we have no one distinct title by 
 which to designate them. They were a nation, as it were, 
 without a legitimate country or a name. A remote wave of 
 the great Arabian inundation, cast upon the shores of Europe, 
 they seemed to have all the impetus of the first rush of the 
 torrent. Their course of conquest from the rock of Gibraltar 
 to the cliffs of the Pyrenees, was as rapid and brilliant as the 
 Moslem victories of Syria and Egypt. Nay, had they not 
 been checked on the plains of Tours, all France, all Europe, 
 might have been overrun with the same facility as the empires 
 of the east, and the crescent might at this day have glittered 
 on the fanes of Paris and of London. 
 
 Repelled within the limits of the Pyrenees, the mixed hordes 
 of Asia and Africa that formed this great irruption, gave up 
 the Moslem principles of conquest, and sought to establish in 
 Spain a peaceful and permanent dominion. As conquerors 
 their heroism was only equalled by their moderation ; and in 
 both, for a time, they excelled the nations with whom they 
 contended. Severed from their native homes, they loved the 
 land given them, as they supposed, by Allah, and strove to 
 embellish it with every thing that could administer to the 
 happiness of man. Laying the foundations of their power in 
 a system of wise and equitable laws, diligently cultivating the 
 arts and sciences, and promoting agriculture, manufactures, 
 and commerce, they gradually formed an empire unrivalled 
 for its prosperity, by any of the empires of Christendom ; and 
 diligently drawing round them the graces and refinements 
 that marked the Arabian empire in the east at the time of its 
 greatest civilization, they diffused the light of oriental know 
 ledge through the western regions of benighted Europe. 
 
 The cities of Arabian Spain became the resort of Christian 
 
34 THE ALHAMBRA. . 
 
 artisans, to instruct themselves in the useful arts. The uni 
 versities of Toledo, Cordova, Seville, and Granada were sought 
 by the pale student from other lands, to acquaint himself with 
 the sciences of the Arabs, and the treasured lore of antiquity ; 
 the lovers of the gay sciences resorted to Cordova and Gra- 
 riada, to imbibe the poetry and music of the east ; and the 
 steel-clad warriors of the north hastened thither, to accom 
 plish themselves in the graceful exercises and courteous usages 
 of chivalry. 
 
 If the Moslem monuments in Spain ; if the Mosque of Cor 
 dova, the Alcazar of Seville and the Alhambra of Granada, 
 still bear inscriptions fondly boasting of the power and per 
 manency of their dominion, can the boast be derided as arro 
 gant and vain? Generation after generation, century after 
 century had passed away, and still they maintained pos 
 session of the land. A period had elapsed longer than that 
 which has passed since England was subjugated by the Nor 
 man conqueror ; and the descendants of Musa and Tarik might 
 as little anticipate being driven into exile, across the same 
 straits traversed by their triumphant ancestors, as the de 
 scendants of Eollo and William and their victorious peers may 
 dream of being driven back to the shores of Normandy. 
 
 With all this, however, the Moslem empire in Spain was but 
 a brilliant exotic that took no permanent root in the soil it em 
 bellished. Severed from all their neighbours of the west by 
 impassable barriers of faith and manners, and separated by 
 seas and deserts from their kindred of the east, they were an 
 isolated people. Their whole existence was a prolonged though 
 gallant and chivalric struggle fora foot-hold in a usurped land. 
 They were the outposts and frontiers of Islamism. The pen 
 insula was the great battle ground where the Gothic con 
 querors of the north and the Moslem conquerors of the east, 
 met and strove for mastery ; and the fiery courage of the Arab 
 was at length subdued by the obstinate and persevering valour 
 of the Goth. 
 
 Never was the annihilation of a people more complete than 
 that of the Morisco Spaniards. Where are they? Ask the 
 shores of Barbary and its desert places. The exiled remnant 
 of their once powerful empire disappeared among the bar 
 barians of Africa, and ceased to be a nation. They have not 
 even left a distinct name behind them, though for nearly eight 
 centuries they were a distinct people. The home of their 
 adoption and of their occupation for ages refuses to acknow* 
 
THE HOUSEHOLD. 35 
 
 ledge them but as invaders and usurpers. A few broken 
 monuments are all that remain to bear witness to their power 
 and dominion, as solitary rocks left far in the interior bear 
 testimony to the extent of some vast inundation. Such is the 
 Alhambra. A Moslem pile in the midst of a Christian land ; 
 an oriental palace amidst the Gothic edifices of the west ; an 
 elegant memento of a brave, intelligent and graceful people^ 
 who conquered, ruled, and passed away. 
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD. 
 
 IT is time that I give some idea of my domestic arrangements 
 in this singular residence. The royal palace of the Alhambra 
 is intrusted to the care of a good old maiden dame called Dona 
 Antonia Molina, but who, according to Spanish custom, goes 
 by the more neighbourly appellation of Tia Antonia (Aunt An 
 tonia). She maintains the Moorish halls and gardens in order, 
 and shows them to strangers ; in consideration of which, she is 
 allowed all the perquisites received from visitors and all the 
 produce of the gardens, excepting that she is expected to pay 
 an occasional tribute of fruits and flowers to the governor. 
 Her residence is in a corner of the palace, and her family con- 
 sists of a nephew and niece, the children of two different broth 
 ers. The nephew, Manuel Molina, is a young man of sterling 
 worth and Spanish gravity. He has served in the armies both 
 in Spain and the West Indies, but is now studying medicine in 
 hopes of one day or other becoming physician to the for 
 tress, a post worth at least a hundred and forty dollars a year. 
 As to the niece, she is a plump little black-eyed Andalusian 
 damsel named Dolores, but who from her bright looks and 
 cheerful disposition merits a merrier name. She is the declared 
 heiress of all her aunt s possessions, consisting of certain ruin 
 ous tenements in the fortress, yielding a revenue of about one 
 hundred and fifty dollars. I had not been long in the Alham 
 bra before I discovered that a quiet courtship was going on be 
 tween the discreet Manuel and his bright-eyed cousin, and that 
 nothing was wanting to enable them to join their hands and 
 expectations, but that he should receive his doctor s diploma, 
 and purchase a dispensation from the pope, on account of their 
 consanguinity. 
 
36 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 With the good dame Antonia I have made a treaty, accord 
 ing to which, she furnishes me with board and lodging, while 
 the merry-hearted little Dolores keeps my apartment in order 
 and officiates as handmaid at meal times. I have also at my 
 command a tall, stuttering, yellow-haired lad named Pepe, 
 who works in the garden, and would fain have acted as valet, 
 but in this he was forestalled by Mateo Ximenes, u The son of 
 the Alhambra." This alert and officious wight has managed, 
 somehow or other, to stick by me, ever since I first encountered 
 him at the outer gate of the fortress, and to weave himself into 
 all my plans, until he has fairly appointed and installed him 
 self my valet, cicerone, guide, guard, and historic-graphic 
 squire ; and I have been obliged to improve the state of his 
 wardrobe, that he may not disgrace his various functions, so 
 that he has cast off his old brown mantle, as a snake does his 
 skin, and now figures about the fortress with a smart Andaiu- 
 sian hat and jacket, to his infinite satisfaction and the great 
 astonishment of his comrades. The chief fault of honest Mateo 
 is an over-anxiety to be useful. Conscious of having foisted 
 himself into my employ, and that my simple and quiet habits 
 render his situation a sinecure, he is at his wit s end to devise 
 modes of making himself important to my welfare. I am in a 
 manner the victim of his officiousness ; I cannot put my foot 
 over the threshold of the palace to stroll about the fortress, but 
 he is at my elbow to explain every thing I see, and if I venture 
 to ramble among the surrounding hills, he insists upon attend 
 ing me as a guard, though I vehemently suspect he would be 
 more apt to trust to the length of his legs than the strength of 
 his arms in case of attack. After all, however, the poor fellow 
 is at times an amusing companion ; he is simple-minded and of 
 infinite good humour, with the loquacity and gossip of a village 
 barber, and knows all the small talk of the place and its envi 
 rons ; but what he chiefly values himself on is his stock of local 
 information, having the most marvellous stories to relate of 
 every tower, and vault and gateway of the fortress, in all of 
 which he places the most implicit faith. 
 
 Most of these he has derived, according to his own account, 
 from his grandfather, a little legendary tailor, who lived to the 
 age of nearly a hundred years, during which he made but two 
 migrations beyond the precincts of the fortress. His shop, for 
 the greater part of a century, was the resort of a knot of vener 
 able gossips, where they would pass half the night talking about 
 old times and the wonderful events and hidden secrets of the 
 
THE HOUSEHOLD. 37 
 
 place. The whole living, moving, thinking and acting of this 
 little historical tailor, had thus been bounded by the walls of 
 the Alhambra ; within them he had been born, within them he 
 Jived, breathed and had his being, within them he died and 
 was buried. Fortunately for posterity his traditionary lore 
 died not with him. The authentic Mateo, when an urchin, 
 used to be an attentive listener to the narratives of his grand 
 father and of the gossip group assembled round the shop board, 
 and is thus possessed of a stock of valuable knowledge concern 
 ing the Alhambra, not to be found in the books, and well 
 worthy the attention of every curious traveller. 
 
 Such are the personages that contribute to my domestic com 
 forts in the Alhambra, and I question whether any of the po 
 tentates, Moslem or Christian, who have preceded me in the 
 palace, have been waited upon with greater fidelity or enjoyed 
 a serener sway. 
 
 When I rise in the morning, Pepe, the stuttering lad, from 
 the gardens, brings me a tribute of fresh culled flowers, which 
 are afterwards arranged in vases by the skilful hand of Dolores, 
 who takes no small pride in the- decorations of my chamber. 
 My meals are made wherever caprice dictates, sometimes in 
 one of the Moorish halls, sometimes under the arcades of the 
 Court of Lions, surrounded by flowers and fountains; and 
 when I walk out I am conducted by the assiduous Mateo to the 
 most romantic retreats of the mountains and delicious haunts 
 of the adjacent valleys, not one of which but is the scene of 
 some wonderful tale. 
 
 Though fond of passing the greater part of my day alone, yet 
 I occasionally repair in the evenings to the little domestic cir 
 cle of Dona Antonia. This is generally held in an old Moorish 
 chamber, that serves for kitchen as well as hall, a rude fire 
 place having been made in one corner, the smoke from which 
 has discoloured the walls and almost obliterated the uncient 
 arabesques. A window with a balcony overhanging the bal 
 cony of the Darro, lets in the cool evening breeze, and here I 
 take my frugal supper of fruit and milk, and mingle with the 
 conversation of the family. There is a natural talent, or mother 
 wit, as it is called, about the Spaniards, which renders them 
 intellectual and agreeable companions, whatever may be their 
 condition in life, or however imperfect may have been their 
 education; add to this, they are never vulgar; nature has en 
 dowed them with an inherent dignity of spirit. The good Tia 
 Antonia is a woman of strong and intelligent, though unculti- 
 
38 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 vated mind, and the bright-eyed Dolores, though she has read 
 but three or four books in the whole course of her life, has an 
 engaging mixture of naivete and good sense, and often sur 
 prises me by the pungency of her artless sallies. Sometimes 
 the nephew entertains us by reading some old comedy of Cal- 
 deron or Lope de Vega, to which he is evidently prompted by 
 a desire to improve as well as amuse his cousin Dolores, though 
 to his great mortification the little damsel generally falls asleep 
 before the first act is completed. Sometimes Tia Antonia has 
 a little bevy of humble friends and dependants, the inhabitants 
 of the adjacent hamlet, or the wives of the invalid soldiers. 
 These look up to her with great deference as the custodian of 
 the palace, and pay their court to her by bringing the news of 
 the place, or the rumours that may have straggled up from 
 Granada. In listening to the evening gossipings, I have picked 
 up many curious facts, illustrative of the manners of the people 
 and the peculiarities of the neighbourhood. 
 
 These are simple details of simple pleasures; it is the nature 
 of the place alone that gives them interest and importance. I 
 tread haunted ground and am surrounded by romantic asso 
 ciations. From earliest boyhood, when, on the banks of the 
 Hudson, I first pored over the pages of an old Spanish story 
 about the wars of Granada, that city has ever been a subject 
 of my waking dreams, and often have I trod in fancy the 
 romantic halls of the Alhambra. Behold for once a day-dream 
 realized ; yet I can scarcely credit my senses or believe that I 
 do indeed inhabit the palace of Boabdil, and look down from 
 its balconies upon chivalric Granada. As I loiter through the 
 oriental chambers, and hear the murmuring of fountains and 
 the song of the nightingale : as I inhale the odour of the rose 
 and feel the influence of the balmy climate, I am almost 
 tempted to fancy myself in the Paradise of Mahomet, and that 
 the plump little Dolores is one of the bright-eyed Houris, des- 
 ttned to administer to the happiness of true believers. 
 
 THE TRUANT. 
 
 SINCE writing the foregoing pages, we have had a scene of 
 petty tribulation in the Alhambra which has thrown a cloud 
 wer the sunny countenance of Dolores. This little damsel has 
 
THE TRUANT. 39 
 
 a female passion for pets of all kinds, from the superabundant 
 kindness of her disposition. One of the ruined courts of the 
 Alhambra is thronged with her favourites. A stately peacock 
 and his hen seem to hold regal sway here, over pompous tur 
 keys, querulous guinea fowls, and a rabble rout of common 
 cocks and hens. The great delight of Dolores, however, has 
 for some time past been centred in a youthful pair of pigeons, 
 who have lately entered into the holy state of wedlock, and 
 who have even supplanted a tortoise shell cat and kitten in her 
 affections. 
 
 As a tenement for them to commence housekeeping she had 
 fitted up a small chamber adjacent to the kitchen, the window 
 of which looked into one of the quiet Moorish courts. Here 
 they lived in happy ignorance of any world beyond the court 
 and its sunny roofs. In vain they aspired to soar above the 
 battlements, or to mount to the summit of the towers. Their 
 virtuous union was at length crowned by two spotless and 
 milk white eggs, to the great joy of their cherishing little mis 
 tress. Nothing could be more praiseworthy than the conduct 
 of the young married folks on this interesting occasion. They 
 took turns to sit upon the nest until the eggs were hatched, 
 and while their callow progeny required warmth and shelter. 
 While one thus stayed at home, the other foraged abroad for 
 food, and brought home abundant supplies. 
 
 This scene of conjugal felicity ha& suddenly met with a re 
 verse. Early this morning, as Dolores was feeding the male 
 pigeon, she took a fancy to give him a peep at the great world. 
 Opening a window, therefore, which looks down upon the val 
 ley of the Darro, she launched him at once beyond the walls of 
 the Alhambra. For the first time in his life the astonished 
 bird had to try the full vigour of his wings. He swept down 
 into the valley, and then rising upwards with a surge, soared 
 almost to the clouds. Never before had he risen to such a 
 height or experienced such delight in flying, and like a young 
 spendthrift, just come to his estate, he seemed giddy with 
 excess of liberty, and with the boundless field of action sud 
 denly opened to him. For the whole day he has been circling 
 about in capricious flights, from tower to tower and from tree 
 to tree. Every attempt has been made in vain to lure him 
 back, by scattering grain upon the roofs ; he seems to have lost 
 all thought of home, of his tender helpmate and his callow 
 young. To add to the anxiety of Dolores, he has been joined 
 by two palomas ladrones, or robber pigeons, whose instinct it 
 
40 THE ALIIAMBRA. 
 
 is to entice wandering pigeons to their own dove-cotes. The 
 fugitive, like many other thoughtless youths on their first 
 launching upon the world, seems quite fascinated with these 
 knowing, but graceless, companions, who have undertaken to 
 show him life and introduce him to society. He has been 
 soaring with them over all the rojof s and steeples of Granada. 
 A thunder shower has passed over the. city, but he has not 
 sought his home ; night has closed in, and still he comes not. 
 To deepen the pathos of the affair, the female pigeon, after 
 remaining several hours on the nest without being relieved, at 
 length went forth to seek her recreant mate ; but stayed away 
 so long that the young ones perished for want of the warmth 
 and shelter of the parent bosom. 
 
 At a late hour in the evening, word was brought to Dolores 
 that the truant bird had been seen upon the towers of the Gen- 
 eraliffe. Now, it so happens that the Administrador of that 
 ancient palace has likewise a dove-cote, among the inmates of 
 which are said to be two or three of these inveigling birds, the 
 terror of all neighbouring pigeon fanciers. Dolores immedi 
 ately concluded that the two feathered sharpers who had been 
 seen with her fugitive, were these bloods of the Generaliffe. A 
 council of war was forthwith held in the chamber of Tia An- 
 tonia. The Generaliffe is a distinct jurisdiction from the 
 Alhambra, and of course some punctilio, if not jealousy, exists 
 between their custodians. It was determined, therefore, to 
 send Pepe, the stuttering lad of the gardens, as ambassador to 
 the Administrador, requesting that if such fugitive should be 
 found in his dominions, he might be given up as a subject of 
 the Alhambra. Pepe departed, accordingly, on his diplomatic 
 expedition, through the moonlit groves and avenues, but 
 returned in an hour with the afflicting intelligence that no 
 such bird was to be found in the dove-cote of the Generaliffe. 
 The Administrador, however, pledged his sovereign word, that 
 if such vagrant should appear there, even at midnight, he 
 should instantly be arrested and sent back prisoner to his little 
 black-eyed mistress. 
 
 Thus stands this melancholy affair, which has occasioned 
 much distress throughout the palace, and has sent the incon 
 solable Dolores to a sleepless pillow. 
 
 " Sorrow endureth for a night," says the proverb, "but joy 
 ariseth in the morning." The first object that met my eyes on 
 leaving my room this morning was Dolores with the truant 
 pigeon in her hand, and her eyes sparkling with joy. He had 
 
THE AUTHORS CHAMBER. 41 
 
 appeared at an early hour on the battlements, hovering shyly 
 about from roof to roof, but at length entered the window and 
 surrendered himself prisoner. He gained little credit, how 
 ever, by his return, for the ravenous manner in which he 
 devoured the food set before him, showed that, like the prodi 
 gal son, he had been driven home by sheer famine. Dolores 
 upbraided him for his faithless conduct, calling him all manner 
 of vagrant names, though woman-like, she fondled him at the 
 same time to her bosom and covered him with kisses. I ob 
 served, however, that she had taken care to clip his wings to 
 prevent all future soarings ; a precaution which I mention for 
 the benefit of all those who have truant wives or wandering 
 husbands. More than one valuable moral might be drawn 
 from the story of Dolores and her pigeon. 
 
 THE AUTHOE S CHAMBER. 
 
 ON taking up my abode in the Alhambra, one end of a suite 
 of empty chambers of modern architecture, intended for the 
 residence of the governor, was fitted up for my reception. It 
 was in front of the palace, looking forth upon the esplanade. 
 The farther end communiated with a cluster of little chambers, 
 partly Moorish, partly modern, inhabited by Tia Antonia and 
 her family. These terminated in a large room which serves 
 the good old dame for parlour, kitchen, and hall of audience. 
 It had boasted of some splendour in the time of the Moors, lot 
 a fire-place had been built in one corner, the smoke from which 
 had discoloured the walls, nearly obliterated the ornaments, 
 and spread a sombre tint over the whole. From these gloomy 
 apartments, a narrow blind corridor and a dark winding 
 staircase led down an angle of the tower of Comares ; gropinf 
 down which, and opening a small door at the bottom, you ar 
 suddenly dazzled by emerging into the brilliant antechamber 
 of the hall of ambassadors, w T ith the fountain of the court of 
 the Alberca sparkling before you. 
 
 I was dissatisfied with being lodged in a modern and frontier 
 apartment of the palace, and longed to ensconce myself in the 
 very heart of the building. 
 
 As I was rambling one day about the Moorish halls, I found, 
 in a remote gallery, a door which I had not before noticed, 
 
42 THE ALII AM BRA. 
 
 communicating apparently with an extensive apartment, 
 locked up from the public: Here then was a mystery. Here 
 was the haunted wing of the castle. I procured the key, how 
 ever, without difficulty. The door opened to a range of vacant 
 chambers of European architecture; though built over a 
 Moorish arcade, along the little garden of Lindaraxa. There 
 were two lofty rooms, the ceilings of which were of deep panel 
 work of cedar, richly and skilfully carved with fruits and 
 flowers, intermingled with grotesque masks or faces; but 
 broken in many places. The walls had evidently, in ancient 
 times, been hung with damask, but were now naked, and 
 scrawled over with the insignificant names of aspiring travel 
 lers ; the windows, which were dismantled and open to wind 
 and weather, looked into the garden of Lindaraxa, and the 
 orange and citron trees flung their branches into the chambers. 
 Beyond these rooms were two saloons, less lofty, looking also 
 into the garden. In the compartments of the panelled ceiling 
 were baskets of fruit and garlands of flowers, painted by no 
 mean hand, and in tolerable preservation. The walls had also 
 been painted in fresco in the Italian style, but the paintings 
 were nearly obliterated. The windows were in the same 
 shattered state as in the other chambers. 
 
 This fanciful suite of rooms terminated in an open gallery 
 with balustrades, which ran at right angles along another side 
 of the garden. The whole apartment had a delicacy and 
 elegance in its decorations and there was something so choice 
 and sequestered in its situation, along this retired little garden, 
 that awakened an interest in its history. I found, on inquiry, 
 that it was an apartment fitted up by Italian artists, in tho 
 early part of the last century, at the time when Philip V. and 
 the beautiful Elizabetta of Parma were expected at the 
 Alhambra ; and was destined for the queen and the ladies of 
 her train. One of the loftiest chambers had been her sleeping 
 room, and a narrow staircase leading from it, though now 
 walled up, opened to the delightful belvedere, originally a 
 mirador of the Moorish sultanas, but fitted up as a boudoir for 
 the fair Elizabetta, and which still retains the name of the 
 Tocador, or toilette of the queen. The sleeping room I have 
 mentioned, commanded from one window a prospect of the 
 Generaliffe, and its embowered terraces; under another win 
 dow placed the alabaster fountain of the garden of Lindaraxa. 
 That garden carried my thoughts still farther back, to the 
 period of another reign of beauty ; to the days of the Moorish 
 
THE AUTHORS CHAMBER. 43 
 
 sultanas. "How beauteous is this garden!" says an Arabic 
 inscription, where the flowers of the earth vie with the stars 
 of heaven ! what can compare with the vase of yon alabaster 
 fountain filled with crystal water? Nothing but the moon in 
 her fulness, shining in the midst of an unclouded sky!" 
 
 Centuries had elapsed, yet how much of this scene of appa 
 rently fragile beauty remained ! The garden of Lindaraxa was 
 still adorned with flowers; the fountain still presented its 
 crystal mirror : it is true, the alabaster had lost its whiteness, 
 and the basin beneath, overrun with weeds, had become the 
 nestling place of the lizard; but there was something in the 
 very decay that enhanced the interest of the scene, speaking, 
 as it did, of that mutability which is the irrevocable lot of man 
 and all his works. The desolation, too, of these chambers, once 
 the abode of the proud and elegant Elizabetta, had a more 
 touching charm for me than if I had beheld them in theii 
 pristine splendour, glittering with the pageantry of a court I 
 determined at once to take up my quarters in this apartment. 
 
 My determination excited grea-t surprise in the family ; who 
 could not imagine any rational inducement for the choice of 
 so solitary, remote and forlorn an apartment. The good Tia 
 Antonia considered it highly dangerous. The neighbourhood, 
 she said, was infested by vagrants ; the caverns of the adjacent 
 hills swarmed with gipsies ; the palace was ruinous and easy 
 to be entered in many parts; and the rumour of a stranger 
 quartered alone in one of the ruined apartments, out of the 
 hearing of the rest of the inhabitants, might tempt unwelcome 
 visitors in the night, especially as foreigners are always sup 
 posed to be well stocked with money. Dolores represented the 
 frightful loneliness of the place; nothing but bats and owls 
 flitting about ; then there were a fox and a wild cat that kept 
 about the vaults and roamed about at night. 
 
 I was not to be diverted from my humour, so calling in 
 the assistance of a carpenter, and the ever officious Mateo 
 Ximenes, the doors and windows were soon placed in a state 
 of tolerable security. 
 
 With all these precautions, I must confess the first night I 
 passed in these quarters was inexpressibly dreary. I was 
 escorted by the whole family to my chamber, and there taking 
 leave of me, and retiring along the waste antechamber and 
 echoing galleries, reminded me of those hobgoblin stories, 
 where the hero is left to accomplish the adventure of a 
 haunted house. 
 
44 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 Soon the thoughts of the fair Elizabetta and the beauties of 
 her court, who had once graced-these chambers, now by a per 
 version of fancy added to the gloom. Here was the scene of 
 their transient gaiety and loveliness ; here were the very traces 
 of their elegance and enjoyment ; but what and where were 
 they? Dust and ashes! tenants of the tomb! phantoms of the 
 memory ! 
 
 A vague and indescribable awe was creeping over me. 1 
 would fain have ascribed it to the thoughts of robbers, awakened 
 by the evening s conversation, but I felt that it was something 
 more unusual and absurd. In a word, the long buried impres 
 sions of the nursery were reviving and asserting their power 
 over my imagination. Every thing began to be affected by 
 the workings of my mind. The whispering of the wind among 
 the citron trees beneath my window had something sinister. I 
 cast my eyes into the garden of Lindaraxa ; the groves present 
 ed a gulf of shadows ; the thickets had indistinct and ghastly 
 shapes. I was glad to close the window ; but my chamber it 
 self became infected. A bat had found its way in, and flitted 
 about my head and athwart my solitary lamp ; the grotesque 
 faces carved in the cedar ceiling seemed to mope and mow at 
 me. 
 
 Eousing myself, and half smiling at this temporary weak 
 ness, I resolved to brave it, and, taking lamp in hand, sallied 
 forth to make a tour of the ancient palace. Notwithstanding 
 every mental exertion, the task was a severe one. The rays 
 of my lamp extended to but a limited distance around me ; I 
 walked as it were in a mere halo of light, and all beyond 
 was thick darkness. The vaulted corridors were as caverns; 
 the vaults of the halls were lost in gloom; what unseen foe 
 might not be lurking before or behind me; my own shadow 
 playing about the walls, and the echoes of my own footsteps 
 disturbed me. 
 
 In this excited state, as I was traversing the great Hall of 
 Ambassadors, there were added real sounds to these conjectural 
 fancies. Low moans and indistinct ejaculations seemed to rise 
 as it were from beneath my feet ; I paused and listened. They 
 then appeared to resound from without the tower. Sometimes 
 they resembled the howlings of an animal, at others they were 
 stifled shrieks, mingled with articulate ravings. The thrilling 
 effect of these sounds in that still hour and singular place, de 
 stroyed all inclination to continue my lonely perambulation. 
 I returned to my chamber with more alacrity than I had sallied 
 
THE ALHAMBRA BY MOONLIGHT. 45 
 
 forth, and drew my breath more freely when once more within 
 its walls, and the door bolted behind me. 
 
 When I awoke in the morning, with the sun shining in at my 
 window, and lighting up every part of the building with its 
 cheerful and truth-telling beams, I could scarcely recall the 
 shadows and fancies conjured up by the gloom of the preceding 
 night ; or believe that the scenes around me, so naked and ap 
 parent, could have been clothed with such imaginary horrors. 
 
 Still the dismal bowlings and ejaculations I had heard were 
 not ideal ; but they were soon accounted for, by my handmaid 
 Dolores ; being the ravings of a poor maniac, a brother of her 
 aunt, who was subject to violent paroxysms, during which he 
 was confined in a vaulted room beneath the Hall of Ambas 
 sadors. 
 
 THE ALHAMBEA BY MOONLIGHT. 
 
 I HAVE given a picture of my apartment on my first taking 
 possession of it; a few evenings have produced a thorough 
 change in the scene and in my feelings. The moon, which then 
 was invisible, has gradually gained upon the nights, and now 
 rolls in full splendour above the towers, pouring a flood of 
 tempered light into every court and hall. The garden beneath 
 my window is gently lighted up ; the orange and citron trees 
 are tipped with silver; the fountain sparkles in the moon 
 beams, and even the blush of the rose is faintly visible. 
 
 I have sat for hours at my window inhaling the sweetness of 
 the garden, and musing on the chequered features of those 
 whose history is dimly shadowed out in the elegant memorials 
 around. Sometimes I have issued forth at midnight when every 
 thing was quiet, and have wandered over the whole building. 
 Who can do justice to a moonlight night in such a climate, 
 and in such a place ! The temperature of an Andalusian mid 
 night, in summer, is perfectly ethereal. We seem lifted up 
 into a purer atmosphere ; there is a serenity of soul, a buoyancy 
 of spirits, an elasticity of frame that render mere existence 
 enjoyment. The effect of moonlight, too, on the Alhambra has 
 something like enchantment. Every rent and chasm of time, 
 every mouldering tint and weather stain disappears ; the mar 
 ble -resumes its original whiteness ; the long colonnades brighten 
 in the moon beams ; the halls are illuminated with a softened 
 
46 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 radiance, until the whole edifice reminds one of the enchanted 
 palace of an Arabian tale. 
 
 At such time I have ascended to the little pavilion, called the 
 Queen s Toilette, to enjoy its varied and extensive prospect 
 To the right, the snowy summits of the Sierra Nevada would 
 gleam like silver clouds against the darker firmament, and all 
 the outlines of the mountain would be softened, yet delicately 
 defined. My delight, however, would be to lean over the para 
 pet of the tocador, and gaze down upon Granada, spread out 
 like a map below me: all buried in deep repose, and its white 
 palaces and convents sleeping as it were in the moonshine. 
 
 Sometimes I would hear the faint sounds of castanets from 
 some party of dancers lingering in the Alameda; at other times 
 I have heard the dubious tones of a guitar, and the notes of a 
 single voice rising from some solitary street, and have pictured 
 to myself some youthful cavalier serenading his lady s window 
 a gallant custom of former days, but now sadly on the decline 
 except in the remote towns and villages of Spain. 
 
 Such are the scenes that have detained me for many an hour 
 loitering about the courts and balconies of the castle, enjoying 
 that mixture of reverie and sensation which steal away exist 
 ence in a southern climate and it has been almost morning be 
 fore I have retired to my bed, and been lulled to sleep by the 
 falling waters of the fountain of Lindaraxa. 
 
 INHABITANTS OF THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 I HAVE often observed that the more proudly a mansion has 
 been tenanted in the day of its prosperity, the humbler are its 
 inhabitants in the day of its decline, and that the palace of the 
 king commonly ends in being the nestling place of the beggar. 
 
 The Alhambra is in a rapid state of similar transition: 
 whenever a tower falls to decay, it is seized upon by some 
 tatterdemalion family, who become joint tenants with the 
 bats and owls of its gilded halls, and hang their rags, those 
 standards of poverty, out of its windows and loop-holes. 
 
 I have amused myself with remarking some of the motley 
 characters that have thus usurped the ancient abode of 
 royalty, and who seem as if placed here to give a farcical 
 termination to the drama of human pride. One of these 
 
INHABITANTS OF THE ALHAMBEA. 47 
 
 even bears the mockery of a royal title. It is a little old 
 woman named Maria Antonia Sabonea, but who goes by 
 the appellation of la Reyna Cuquina, or the cockle queen. 
 She is small enough to be a fairy, and a fairy she may be 
 for aught I can find out, for no one seems to know her 
 origin. Her habitation is a kind of closet under the outer 
 staircase of the palace, and she sits in the cool stone corri 
 dor plying her needle and singing from morning till night, 
 with a ready joke for every one that passes, for though 
 one of the poorest, she is one of the merriest little women 
 breathing. Her great merit is a gift for story-telling ; having, 
 I verily believe, as many stories at her command as the inex 
 haustible Scheherezade of the thousand and one nights. Some 
 of these I have heard her relate in the evening tertulias of 
 Dona Antonia, at which she is occasionally an humble attend 
 ant. 
 
 That there must be some fairy gift about this mysterious 
 little old woman, would appear from her extraordinary luck, 
 since, notwithstanding her being very little, very ugly, and 
 very poor, she has had, according to her own account, five 
 husbands and a half; reckoning as a half, one, a young 
 dragoon who died during courtship. 
 
 A rival personage to this little fairy queen is a portly old 
 fellow with a bottle nose, who goes about in a rusty garb, 
 with a cocked hat of oil skin and a red cockade. He is one of 
 the legitimate sons of the Alhambra, and has lived here all 
 his life, filling various offices ; such as Deputy Alguazil, sexton 
 of the parochial church, and marker of a fives court estab 
 lished at the foot of one of the towers. He is as poor as a rat, 
 but as proud as he is ragged, boasting of his descent from the 
 illustrious house of Aguilar, from which sprang Gonsalvo of 
 Cordova, the Grand Captain. Nay, he actually bears the name 
 of Alonzo de Aguilar, so renowned in the history of the con 
 quest, though the graceless wags of the fortress have given 
 him the title of el Padre Santo, or the Holy Father, the usual 
 fppellation of the pope, which I had thought too sacred in the 
 eyes of true catholics to be thus ludicrously applied. It is a 
 whimsical caprice of fortune, to present in the grotesque 
 person of this tatterdemalion a namesake and descendant 
 of the proud Alonzo de Aguilar, the mirror of Andalusian 
 chivalry, leading an almost mendicant existence about this 
 once haughty fortress, which his ancestor aided to reduce; 
 yet such might have been the lot of the descendants of Aga- 
 
48 THE ALIIAMBRA. 
 
 memnon and Achilles, had they lingered about the ruins of 
 Troy. 
 
 Of this motley community I find the family of my gossiping 
 squire Mateo Ximenes to form, from their numbers at least, a 
 very important part. His boast of being a son of the Alhambra 
 is not unfounded. This family has inhabited the fortress ever 
 since the time of the conquest, handing down a hereditary 
 poverty from father to son, not one of them having ever been 
 known to be worth a marevedi. His father, by trade a riband 
 weaver, and who succeeded the historical tailor as the head of 
 the family, is now near seventy years of age, and lives in a 
 hovel of reeds and plaster, built by his own hands, just above 
 the iron gate. The furniture consists of a crazy bed, a table, 
 and two or three chairs; a wooden chest, containing his 
 clothes, and the archives of his family; that is to say, a 
 few papers concerning old law-suits which he cannot read; 
 but the pride of his heart is a blazon of the arms of the family, 
 brilliantly coloured and suspended in a frame against the wall, 
 clearly demonstrating by its quarterings the various noble 
 houses with which this poverty-stricken brood claim affinity. 
 
 As to Mateo himself, he has done his utmost to perpetuate 
 his line ; having a wife, and a numerous progeny who inhabit 
 an almost dismantled hovel in the hamlet. How they manage 
 to subsist, He only who sees into all mysteries can tell the 
 subsistence of a Spanish family of the kind is always a riddle 
 to me ; yet they do subsist, and, what is more, appear to enjoy 
 their existence. The wife takes her holyday stroll in the Paseo 
 of Granada, with a child in her arms, and half a dozen at her 
 heels, and the eldest daughter, now verging into womanhood, 
 dresses her hair with flowers, and dances gaily to the cas 
 tanets. 
 
 There are two classes of people to whom life seems one long 
 holyday, the very rich and the very poor; one because they 
 need do nothing, the other because they have nothing to do ; 
 but there are none who understand the art of doing nothing 
 and living upon nothing better than the poor classes of Spain. 
 Climate does one half and temperament the rest. Give a 
 Spaniard the shade in summer, and the sun in winter, a little 
 bread, garlic, oil and garbanzos, an old brown cloak and a 
 guitar, and let the world roll on as it pleases. Talk of poverty, 
 with him it has no disgrace. It sits upon him with a gran- 
 dioso style, like his ragged cloak. He is a hidalgo even when 
 in rags. 
 
THE BALCONY. 49 
 
 The "Sons of the Alhambra" are an eminent illustration o{ 
 this practical philosophy. As the Moors imagined that the 
 celestial paradise hung over this favoured spot, so I am in 
 clined, at times, to fancy that a gleam of the golden age still 
 lingers about this ragged community. They possess nothing, 
 they do nothing, they care for nothing. Yet, though ap 
 parently idle all the week, they are as observant of all holy 
 days and saints days as the most laborious artisan. They 
 attend all fetes and dancings in Granada and its vicinity, 
 light bon-fires on the hills on St. John s eve, and have lately 
 danced away the moonlight nights, on the harvest home of 
 a small field of wheat within the precincts of the fortress. 
 
 Before concluding these remarks I must mention one of the 
 amusements of the place which has particularly struck me. I 
 had repeatedly observed a long, lean fellow perched on the top 
 of one of the towers manoeuvring two or three fishing rods, as 
 though he was angling for the stars. I was for some time per 
 plexed by the evolutions of this aerial fisherman, and my per 
 plexity increased on observing others employed in like manner, 
 on different parts of the battlements and bastions ; it was not 
 until I consulted Mateo Ximenes that I solved the mystery. 
 
 It seems that the pure and airy situation of this fortress has 
 rendered it, like the castle of Macbeth, a prolific breeding-place 
 for swallows and martlets, who sport about its towers in 
 myriads, with the holyday glee of urchins just let loose 
 from school. To entrap these birds in their giddy circlings, 
 with hooks baited with flies, is one of the favourite amuse 
 ments of the ragged "Sons of the Alhambra, " who, with the 
 good-for-nothing ingenuity of arrant idlers, have thus invented 
 the art of angling in the sky. 
 
 THE BALCONY 
 
 IN the Hall of Ambassadors, at the central window, there is 
 a balcony of which I have already made mention. It projects 
 like a cage from the face of the tower, high in mid-air, above 
 the tops of the trees that grow on the steep hill-side. It an 
 swers me as a kind of observatory, where I often take my seat 
 to consider, not merely the heavens above, but the "earth 
 beneath." Beside the magnificent prospect which it commands, 
 of mountain, valley, and Vega, there is a busy little scene of 
 
50 THE ALI1AMBRA. 
 
 human life laid open to inspection immediately below. At the 
 foot of the hill is an alameda or public walk, which, though not 
 so fashionable as the more modern and splendid paseo of the 
 Xenil, still boasts a varied and picturesque concourse, especially 
 on holydays and Sundays. Hither resort the small gentry of 
 the suburbs, together with priests and friars \vho walk for appe 
 tite and digestion ; majos and majas, the beaux and belles of the 
 lower classes in their Andalusian dresses; swagging contraban- 
 distas, and sometimes half -muffled and mysterious loungers of 
 the higher ranks, on some silent assignation. 
 
 It is a moving picture of Spanish life which I delight to 
 study ; and as the naturalist has his microscope to assist him 
 in his curious investigations, so I have a small pocket telescope 
 which brings the countenances of the motley groups so close as 
 almost at times to make me think I can divine their conversa 
 tion by the play and expression of their features. I am thus, 
 in a manner, an invisible observer, and without quitting my 
 solitude, can throw myself in an instant into the midst of 
 society- a rare advantage to one of somewhat shy and quiet 
 habits. 
 
 Then there is a considerable suburb lying below the Alham- 
 bra, filling the narrow gorge of the valley, and extending up 
 the opposite hill of the Albaycin. Many of the houses are 
 built in the Moorish style, round patios or courts cooled by 
 fountains and open to the sky; and as the inhabitants pass 
 much of their time in these courts and on the terraced roofs 
 during the summer season, it follows that many a glance at 
 their domestic life may be obtained by an aerial spectator like 
 myself, who can look down on them from the clouds. 
 
 I enjoy, in some degree, the advantages of the student in the 
 famous old Spanish story, who beheld all Madrid unroofed for 
 his inspection ; and my gossipping squire Mateo Ximenes offi 
 ciates occasionally as my Asmodeus, to give me anecdotes of 
 the different mansions and their inhabitants. 
 
 I prefer, however, to form conjectural histories for myself; 
 and thus can sit up aloft for hours, weaving from casual inci 
 dents and indications that pass under my eye, the whole tissue 
 of schemes, intrigues and occupations, carrying on by certain 
 of the busy mortals below us. There is scarce a pretty face or 
 striking figure that I daily see, about which I have not thus 
 gradually framed a dramatic story; though some of my 
 characters will occassionally act in direct opposition to the 
 part assigned them, and disconcert my whole drama, 
 
THE BALCONY. 51 
 
 A few days since as I was reconnoitring with my glass the 
 streets of the Albaycin, I beheld the procession of a novice 
 about to take the veil ; and remarked various circumstances 
 that excited the strongest sympathy in the fate of the youth 
 ful being thus about to be consigned to a living tomb. I ascer 
 tained, to my satisfaction, that she was beautiful ; and, by the 
 paleness of her cheek, that she was a victim, rather than a 
 votary. She was arrayed in bridal garments, and decked 
 with a chaplet of white flowers ; but her heart evidently re 
 volted at this mockery of a spiritual union, and yearned after 
 its earthly loves. A tall stern-looking man walked near her 
 in the procession ; it was evidently the tyrannical father, who, 
 from some bigoted or sordid motive, had compelled this sacrifice. 
 Amidst the crowd was a dark, handsome youth, in Andalusiaii 
 garb, who seemed to fix on her an eye of agony. It was doubt 
 less the secret lover from whom she was for ever to be sepa 
 rated. My indignation rose as I noted the malignant exulta 
 tion painted in the countenances of the attendant monks and 
 friars. The procession arrived at the chapel of the convent ; the 
 sun gleamed for the last time upon the chaplet of the poor novice 
 as she crossed the fatal threshold and disappeared from sight. 
 The throng poured in with cowl and cross and minstrelsy. The 
 lover paused for a moment at the door; I could understand 
 the tumult of his feelings, but he mastered them and entered. 
 There was a long interval I pictured to myself the scene pass 
 ing within. The poor novice despoiled of her transient finery 
 clothed in the conventual garb; the bridal chaplet taken 
 from her brow; her beautiful head shorn of its long silken 
 tresses I heard her murmur the irrevocable vow I saw her 
 extended on her bier ; the death pall spread over ; the funeral 
 service performed that proclaimed her dead to the world ; her 
 sighs were drowned in the wailing anthem of the nuns and the 
 sepulchral tones of the organ the father looked, unmoved, 
 without a tear the lover no my fancy refused to portray 
 the anguish of the lover there the picture remained a blank. 
 The ceremony was over : the crowd again issued forth to be 
 hold the day and mingle in the joyous stir of life but the 
 victim with her bridal chaplet was no longer there the door of 
 the convent closed that secured her from the world for ever. 
 I saw the father and the lover issue forth they were in ear 
 nest conversation the young man was violent in his gestures, 
 when the wall of a house intervened and shut them from nrf 
 eight. 
 
52 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 That evening I noticed a solitary light twinkling from a re 
 mote lattice of the convent. There, said I, the unhappy novice 
 sits weeping in her cell, while her lover paces the street below 
 in unavailing anguish. 
 
 The officious Mateo interrupted my meditations and de 
 stroyed, in an instant, the cobweb tissue of my fancy. With 
 his usual zeal he had gathered facts concerning the scene that 
 had interested me. The heroine of my romance was neither 
 young nor handsome she had no lover she had entered the 
 convent of her own free will, as a respectable asylum, and was 
 one of the cheerf ulest residents within its walls ! 
 
 I felt at first half vexed with the nun for being thus happy 
 in her cell, in contradiction to all the rules of romance ; but 
 diverted my spleen by watching, for a day or two, the pretty 
 coquetries of a dark-eyed brunette, who, from the covert of a 
 balcony shrouded with flowering shrubs and a silken awning, 
 was carrying on a mysterious correspondence with a hand 
 some, dark, well- whiskered cavalier in the street beneath her 
 window. Sometimes I saw him at an early hour, stealing 
 forth, wrapped to the eyes in a mantle. Sometimes he loitered 
 at the corner, in various disguises, apparently waiting for a 
 private signal to slip into the bower. Then there was a tink 
 ling of a guitar at night, and a lantern shifted from place to 
 place in the balcony. I imagined another romantic intrigue like 
 that of Almaviva, but was again disconcerted in all my suppo 
 sitions by being informed that the supposed lover was the 
 husband of the lady, and a noted contrabandista, and that all 
 his mysterious signs and movements had doubtless some smug 
 gling scheme in view. 
 
 Scarce had the gray dawn streaked the sky and the earliest 
 cock crowed from the cottages of the hill-side, when the 
 suburbs gave sign of reviving animation ; for the fresh hours 
 of dawning are precious in the summer season in a sultry 
 climate. All are anxious to get the start of the sun in the 
 business of the day. The muleteer drives forth his loaded 
 train for the journey ; the traveller slings his carbine behind 
 his saddle and mounts his steed at the gate of the hostel. The 
 brown peasant urges his loitering donkeys, laden with pan 
 niers of sunny fruit and fresh dewy vegetables ; for already 
 the thrifty housewives are hastening to the market. 
 
 The sun is up and sparkles along the valley, topping the 
 transparent foliage of the groves. The matin bells resound 
 melodiously through the pure bright air, announcing the hour 
 
THE BALCONY. 53 
 
 of devotion. The muleteer halts his burdened animals before 
 the chapel, thrusts his staff through his belt behind, and 
 enters with hat in hand, smoothing his coal black hair, to 
 hear a mass and put up a prayer for a prosperous wayfaring 
 across the Sierra. 
 
 And now steals forth with fairy foot the gentle Seaora, in 
 trim busquina ; with restless fan in hand and dark eye flash 
 ing from beneath her gracefully folded mantilla. She seeks 
 some well frequented church to offer up her orisons ; but the 
 nicely adjusted dress ; the dainty shoe and cobweb stocking ; 
 the raven tresses scrupulously braided, the fresh plucked rose 
 that gleams among them like a gem, show that earth divides 
 with heaven the empire of her thoughts. 
 
 As the morning advances, the din of labour augments on 
 every side ; the streets are thronged with man and steed, and 
 beast of burden ; the universal movement produces a hum and 
 murmur like the surges of the ocean. As the sun ascends to 
 his meridian the hum and bustle gradually decline; at the 
 height of noon there is a pause ; the panting city sinks into 
 lassitude, and for several hours there is a general repose. 
 The windows are closed ; the curtains drawn ; the inhabitants 
 retired into the coolest recesses of their mansions. The full- 
 fed monk snores in his dormitory. The brawny porter lies 
 stretched on the pavement beside his burden. The peasant 
 and the labourer sleep beneath the trees of the Alameda, 
 lulled by the sultry chirping of the locust. The streets are 
 deserted except by the water carrier, who refreshes the ear by 
 proclaiming the merits of his sparkling beverage, "Colder 
 than mountain snow." 
 
 As the sun declines, there is again a gradual reviving, and 
 wnen the vesper bell rings out his sinking knell, all nature 
 seeiiis to rejoice that the tyrant of the day has fallen. 
 
 Now begins the bustle of enjoyment. The citizens pour 
 forth to breathe the evening air, and revel away the brief 
 twilight in the walks and gardens of the Darro and the Xenil. 
 
 As the night closes, the motley scene assumes new features. 
 Light after light gradually twinkles forth ; here a taper from 
 a balconied window ; there a votive lamp before the image of 
 a saint. Thus by degrees the city emerges from the pervading 
 gloom, and sparkles with scattered lights like the starry 
 firmament. Now break forth from court, and garden, and 
 street, and lane, the tinkling of innumerable guitars and the 
 clicking of castanets, blending at this lofty height, in a faint 
 
54 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 and general concert. "Enjoy the moment," is the creed of 
 the gay and amorous Andalusian, and at no time does he 
 practise it more zealously than in the balmy nights of sum 
 mer, wooing his mistress with the dance, the love ditty and 
 the passionate serenade. 
 
 I was seated one evening in the balcony enjoying the light 
 breeze that came rustling along the side of the hill among the 
 tree-tops, when my humble historiographer, Mateo, who was 
 at my elbow, pointed out a spacious house in an obscure street 
 of the Albaycin, about which he related, as nearly as I can 
 recollect, the following anecdote. 
 
 THE ADVENTURE OF THE MASON. 
 
 THERE was once upon a time a poor mason, or bricklayer, in 
 Granada, who kept all the saints days and holydays, and saint 
 Monday into the bargain, and yet, with all his devotion, he 
 grew poorer and poorer, and could scarcely earn bread for his 
 numerous family. One night he was roused from his first 
 sleep by a knocking at his door. He opened it and beheld 
 before him a tall, meagre, cadaverous-looking priest. "Hark 
 ye, honest friend," said the stranger, "I have observed that 
 you are a good Christian, and one to be trusted; will you 
 undertake a job this very night?" 
 
 "With all my heart, Seflor Padre, on condition that I am 
 paid accordingly." 
 
 "That you shall be, but you must suffer yourself to be 
 blindfolded." 
 
 To this the mason made no objection ; so being hoodwinked, 
 he was led by the priest through various rough lanes and 
 winding passages until they stopped before the portal of a 
 house. The priest then applied a key, turned a creaking lock 
 and opened what sounded like a ponderous door. They en 
 tered, the door was closed and bolted, and the mason was 
 conducted through an echoing corridor and spacious hall, to 
 an interior part of the building. Here the bandage was re 
 moved from his eyes, and he found himself in a patio, or 
 court, dimly lighted by a single lamp. 
 
 In the centre was a dry basin of an old Moorish fountain, 
 under which the priest requested him to form a small vault, 
 bricks and mortar being at hand for the purpose. Pie accord- 
 
THE ADVENTURE OF TEE MASON, 55 
 
 ingly worked all night, but without finishing the job. Just 
 before daybreak the priest put a piece of gold into his hand, 
 and having again blindfolded him, conducted him back to his 
 dwelling. 
 
 "Are you willing," said he, "to return and complete your 
 work?" 
 
 " Gladly, Seiior Padre, provided I am as well paid." 
 
 "Well, then, to-morrow at midnight I will call again." 
 
 He did so, and the vault was completed. " Now," said the 
 priest, you must help me to brmg forth the bodies that are to 
 be buried in this vault." 
 
 The poor mason s hair rose on his head at these words ; he 
 followed the priest with trembling steps, into a retired cham 
 ber of the mansion, expecting to behold some ghastly spectacle 
 of death, but was relieved, on perceiving three or four portly 
 jars standing in one corner. They were evidently full of 
 money, and it was with great labour that he and the priest 
 carried them forth and consigned them to their tomb. The 
 vault was then closed, the pavement replaced and all traces 
 of the work obliterated. 
 
 The mason was again hoodwinked and led forth by a route 
 different from that by which he had come. After they had 
 wandered for a long time through a perplexed maze of lanes 
 and alleys, they halted. The priest then put two pieces of gold 
 into his hand. "Wait here," said he, "until you hear the 
 cathedral bell toll for matins. If you presume to uncover 
 your eyes before that time, evil will befall you." So saying 
 he departed. 
 
 The mason waited faithfully, amusing himself by weighing 
 the gold pieces in his hand and clinking them against each 
 other. The moment the cathedral bell rung its matin peal, he 
 uncovered his eyes and found himself on the banks of the 
 Xenil ; from whence he made the best of his way home, and 
 revelled with his family for a whole fortnight on the profits of 
 his two nights work, after which he was as poor as ever. 
 
 He continued to work a little and pray a good deal, and 
 keep holydays and saints days from year to year, while his 
 family grew up as gaunt and ragged as a crew of gipsies. 
 
 As he was seated one morning at the door of his hovel, he 
 was accosted by a rich old curmudgeon who was noted for 
 owning many houses and being a griping landlord. 
 
 The man of money eyed him for a moment, from beneath a 
 pair of shagged eyebrows. 
 
56 THE ALII AMP II A. 
 
 " I am told, friend, that you are very poor." 
 " There is no denying the fact, Seiior ; it speaks for itself." 
 " I presume, then, you will be glad of a job, and will work 
 cheap." 
 
 "As cheap, my master, as any mason in Granada." 
 " That s what I want. I have an old house faUen to decay, 
 that costs me more money than it is worth to keep it in repair 
 for nobody will live in it; so I must contrive to patch it up 
 and keep it together at as small expense as possible. " 
 
 The mason was accordingly conducted to a huge deserted 
 house that seemed going to ruin. Passing through several 
 empty halls and chambers, he entered an inner court, where 
 his eye was caught by an old Moorish fountain. 
 
 He paused for a moment. " It seems," said he, " as if I had 
 been in this place before; but it is like a dream. Pray who 
 occupied this house formerly?" 
 
 "A pest upon him!" cried the landlord. "It was an old 
 miserly priest, who cared for nobody but himself. He was 
 said to be immensely rich, and, having no relations, it was 
 thought he would leave all his treasure to the church. He 
 died suddenly, and the priests and friars thronged to take 
 possession of his wealth, but nothing could they find but a few 
 ducats in a leathern purse. The worst luck has fallen on 
 me ; for since his death, the old fellow continues to occupy my 
 house without paying rent, and there s no taking the law of a 
 dead man. The people pretend to hear at night the clinking 
 of gold all night long in the chamber where the old priest slept, 
 as if he were counting over his money, and sometimes a grocin- 
 ing and moaning about the court. Whether true or false 
 these stories have brought a bad name on my house, and not a 
 tenant will remain in it. " 
 
 "Enough," said the mason sturdily--" Let me live in your 
 house rent free until some better tenant presents, and I will 
 engage to put it in repair and quiet the troubled spirits that 
 disturb it. I am a good Christian and a poor man, and am not 
 to be daunted by the devil himself, even though he come in the 
 shape of a big bag of money." 
 
 The offer of the honest mason was priadly accepted; he 
 moved with his family into the house, and fulfilled all his en 
 gagements. By little and little he restored it to its former 
 state. The clinking of gold was no longer heard at night in 
 the chamber of the defunct p/iest, but began to be heard by 
 day in the pocket of the living mason. In a word, he irr 
 
A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS. 57 
 
 creased rapidly in wealth, to the admiration of all his neigh 
 bours, and became one of the richest men in Granada. He 
 gave large sums to the church, by way, no doubt, of satisfying 
 his conscience, and never revealed the secret of his wealth 
 until on his deathbed, to his son and heir. 
 
 A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS. 
 
 I FREQUENTLY amuse myself towards the close of the day, 
 when the heat has subsided, with taking long rambles about 
 the neighbouring hills and the deep umbrageous valleys, 
 accompanied by my historiographer Squire Mateo, to whose 
 passion for gossiping, I, on such occasions, give the most un- 
 bounding license ; and there is scarce a rock or ruin, or broken 
 fountain, or lonely glen, about which he has not some mar 
 vellous story ; or, above all, some golden legend ; for never was 
 poor devil so munificent in dispensing hidden treasures. 
 
 A few evenings since we took a long stroll of the kind, in 
 which Mateo was more than usually communicative. It was 
 towards sunset that we sallied forth from the great Gate of 
 Justice, and ascending an alley of trees, Mateo paused under a 
 clump of fig and pomegranate trees at the foot of a huge ruined 
 tower, called the Tower of the Seven Vaults, (de los siete 
 suelos.) Here, pointing to a low archway at the foundation of 
 the tower, he informed me, in an under tone, was the lurking- 
 place of a monstrous sprite or hobgoblin called the Belludo, 
 which had infested the tower ever since the time of the Moors ; 
 guarding, it is supposed, the treasures of a Moorish king. 
 Sometimes it issues forth in the dead of the night, and scours 
 the avenues of the Alhambra and the streets of Granada in 
 the shape of a headless horse, pursued by six dogs, with 
 terrific yells and bowlings. 
 
 "But have you ever met with it yourself, Mateo, in any of 
 your rambles?" 
 
 "No, senor; but my grandfather, the tailor, knew several 
 persons who had seen it ; for it went about much more in his 
 time than at present : sometimes in one shape, sometimes in 
 another. Every body in Granada has heard of the Belludo, 
 tor the old women and nurses frighten the children with it 
 when they cry. Some cay it iss the spirit of a cruel Moorish 
 
58 THE ALHAMhtiA. 
 
 king, who killed his six sons, and buried them in these vaults, 
 and that they hunt him at nights in revenge." 
 
 Mateo went on to tell many particulars about this redoubt 
 able hobgoblin, which has, in fact, been time out of mind a 
 favourite theme of nursery tale and popular tradition in Gra 
 nada, and is mentioned in some of the antiquated guide-books. 
 When he had finished, we passed on, skirting the fruitful! 
 orchards of the Generaliffe ; among the trees of which two or 
 three nightingales were pouring forth a rich strain of melody. 
 Behind these orchards we passed a number of Moorish tanks, 
 with a door cut into the rocky bosom of the hill, but closed up. 
 These tanks Mateo informed me were favourite bathing-places 
 of himself and his comrades in boyhood, until frightened away 
 by a story of a hideous Moor, who used to issue forth from the 
 door in the rock to entrap unwary bathers. 
 
 Leaving these haunted tanks behind us, we pursued our 
 ramble up a solitary mule-path that wound among the hills, 
 and soon found ourselves amidst wild and melancholy moun 
 tains, destitute of trees, and here and there tinted with scanty 
 verdure. Every thing within sight was severe and sterile, and 
 it was scarcely possible to realize the idea that but a short dis 
 tance behind us was the Generaliffe, with its blooming or 
 chards and terraced gardens, and that we were in the vicinity 
 of delicious Granada, that city of groves and fountains. But 
 such is the nature of Spain wild and stern the moment it 
 escapes from cultivation, the desert and the garden are ever 
 side by side. 
 
 The narrow defile up which we were passing is called, 
 according to Mateo, el Barranco de la Tinaja, or the ravine of 
 the jar. 
 
 "And why so, Mateo?" inquired I. 
 
 " Because, senor, a jar full of Moorish gold was found here 
 hi old times." The brain of poor Mateo is continually run 
 ning upon these golden legends. 
 
 "But what is the meaning of the cross I see yonder upon 
 a heap of stones in that narrow part of the ravine?" 
 
 i Oh ! that s nothing a muleteer was murdered there some 
 years since." 
 
 So then, Mateo, you have robbers and murderers even at 
 the gates of the Alhambra." 
 
 "Not at present, senor that was, formerly, when there 
 used to be many loose fellows about the fortress; but they ve 
 all been weeded out. Not but that the gipsies, who live in 
 
A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS. 59 
 
 caves in the hill-sides just out of the fortress, are, many of 
 them, fit for any thing; but we have had no murder about 
 here for a long time past. The man who murdered the mule 
 teer was hanged in the fortress. " 
 
 Our path continued up the barranco, with a bold, rugged 
 height to our left, called the Silla del Moro, or chair of the 
 Moor; from a tradition that the unfortunate Boabdil fled 
 thither during a popular insurrection, and remained all day 
 seated on the rocky summit, looking mournfully down upon 
 his factious city. 
 
 We at length arrived on the highest part of the promon 
 tory above Granada, called the Mountain of the Sun. The 
 evening was approaching; the setting sun just gilded the lof 
 tiest heights. Here and there a solitary shepherd might be 
 descried driving his flock down the declivities to be folded for 
 the night, or a muleteer and his lagging animals threading 
 some mountain path, to arrive at the city gates before night 
 fall. 
 
 Presently the deep tones of the cathedral bell came swell 
 ing up the defiles, proclaiming the hour of Oracion, or prayer. 
 The note was responded to from the belfry of every church, 
 and from the sweet bells of the convents among the moun 
 tains. The shepherd paused on the fold of the hill, the mule 
 teer in the midst of the road; each took off his hat, and 
 remained motionless for a time, murmuring his evening 
 prayer. There is always something solemn and pleasing in 
 this custom ; by which, at a melodious signal, every human 
 being throughout the land, recites, at the same moment, a 
 tribute of thanks to God for the mercies of the day. It 
 diffuses a transient sanctity over the land, and the sight of the 
 sun sinking in all his glory, adds not a little to the solemnity 
 of the scene. In the present instance, the effect was height 
 ened by the wild and lonely nature of the place. We were on 
 the naked and broken summit of the haunted Mountain of the 
 Sun, where ruined tanks and cisterns, and the mouldering 
 foundations of extensive buildings, spoke of former populous- 
 ness, but where all was now silent and desolate. 
 
 As we were wandering among these traces of old times, 
 Mateo pointed out to me a circular pit, that seemed to pene 
 trate deep into the bosom of the mountain. It was evidently 
 a deep well, dug by the indefatigable Moors, to obtain their 
 favourite element in its greatest purity. Mateo, however, had 
 a different story, and much more to his humour. This was, 
 
60 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 according to tradition, an entrance to the subterranean cav 
 erns of the mountain, in which Boabdil and his court lay 
 bound in magic spell ; and from whence they sallied forth at 
 night, at allotted times, to revisit their ancient abodes. 
 
 The deepening twilight, which in this climate is of such 
 short duration, admonished us to leave this haunted ground. 
 As we descended the mountain denies, there was no longer 
 herdsman or muleteer to be seen, nor any thing to be heard 
 but our own footsteps and the lonely chirping of the cricket. 
 The shadows of the valleys grew deeper and deeper, until all 
 was dark around us. The lofty summit of the Sierra Nevada 
 alone retained a lingering gleam of day-light, its snowy peaks 
 glaring against the dark blue firmament; and seeming close 
 to us, from the extreme purity of the atmosphere. 
 
 "How near the Sierra looks this evening!" said Mateo, "it 
 seems as if you could touch it with your hand, and yet it 
 is many long leagues off." While he was speaking a star ap 
 peared over the snowy summit of the mountain, the only one 
 yet visible in the heavens, and so pure, so large, so bright 
 and beautiful as to call forth ejaculations of delight from 
 honest Mateo. 
 
 " Que lucero hermoso ! que claro y limpio es ! no pueda ser . 
 lucero mas brillante !" 
 
 (What a beautiful star ! how clear and lucid ! no star could 
 be more brilliant !) 
 
 I have often remarked this sensibility of the common people 
 of Spain to the charms of natural objects. The lustre of a star 
 the beauty or fragrance of a flowerthe crystal purity of a 
 fountain, will inspire them with a kind of poetical delight 
 and then what euphonious words their magnificent language 
 affords, with which to give utterance to their transports ! 
 
 "But what lights are those, Mateo, which I see twinkling 
 along the Sierra Nevada, just below the snowy region, and 
 which might be taken for stars, only that they are ruddy and 
 against the dark side of the mountain?" 
 
 "Those, Senor, are fires made by the men who gather snow 
 and ice for the supply of Granada. They go up every after 
 noon with mules and asses, and take turns, some to rest and 
 warm themselves by the fires, while others fill their panniers 
 with ice. They then set off down the mountain, so as to reach 
 the gates of Granada before sunrise. That Sierra Nevada, 
 Sefior, is a lump of ice in the middle of Andalusia, to keep it 
 ail cool in summer." 
 
A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS. 61 
 
 It was now completely dark ; we were passing through the 
 barranco where stood the cross of the murdered muleteer, 
 when I beheld a number of lights moving at a distance and ap 
 parently advancing up the ravine. On nearer approach they 
 proved to be torches borne by a train of uncouth figures ar 
 rayed in black ; it would have been a procession dreary enough 
 at any time, but was peculiarly so in this wild and solitary 
 place. 
 
 Mateo drew near, and told me in a low voice that it was a 
 funeral train bearing a corpse to the burying ground among 
 the hills. 
 
 As the procession passed by, the lugubrious light of the 
 torches, falling on the rugged features and funereal weeds of 
 the attendants, had the most fantastic effect, but was perfectly 
 ghastly as it revealed the countenance of the corpse, which, 
 according to Spanish custom, was borne uncovered on an open 
 bier. I remained for some time gazing after the dreary train 
 as it wound up the dark defile of the mountain. It put me 
 in mind of the old story of a procession of demons, bearing the 
 body of a sinner up the crater of Stromboli. 
 
 " Ah, Senor," cried Mateo, "I could tell you a story of a pro 
 cession once seen among these mountains but then you would 
 laugh at me, and say it was one of the legacies of my grand 
 father the tailor." 
 
 " By no means, Mateo. There is nothing I relish more than 
 a marvellous tale." 
 
 "Well, Senor, it is about one of those very men we have 
 been talking of, who gather snow on the Sierra Nevada. You 
 must know that a great many years since, in my grandfather s 
 time, there was an old fellow, Tio Nicolo by name, who had 
 filled the panniers of his mules with snow and ice, and was 
 returning down the mountain. Being very drowsy, ho 
 mounted upon the mule, and, soon falling asleep, went with 
 his head nodding and bobbing about from side to side, while 
 his sure-footed old mule stepped along the edge of precipices, 
 and down steep and broken barrancos just as safe and steady 
 as if it had been on plain ground. At length Tio Nicolo awoke, 
 and gazed about him, and rubbed his eyes and in good truth 
 he had reason the moon shone almost as bright as day, and 
 he saw the city below him. as plain as your hand, and shining 
 with its white buildings like a silver platter in the moonshine ; 
 but lord ! Senor ! it was nothing like the city he left a few 
 hours before. Instead of the cathedral with its great dome 
 
62 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 and turrets, and the churches with their spires, and the con 
 vents with their pinnacles all surmounted with the blessed 
 cross, he saw nothing but Moorish mosques, and minarets, 
 and cupolas, all topped off with glittering crescents, such as 
 you see on the Barbary flags. Well, Senor, as you may sup 
 pose, Tio Nicolo was mightily puzzled at all this, but while he 
 was gazing down upon the city, a great army came marching 
 up the mountain ; winding along the ravines, sometimes in the 
 moonshine, sometimes in the shade. As it drew nigh, he saw 
 that there were horse and foot, all in Moorish armour. Tio 
 Nicolo tried to scramble out of their way, but his old mule 
 stood stock still and refused to budge, trembling at the same 
 time like a leaf for dumb -beasts, Senor, are just as much 
 frightened at such things as human beings. Well, Senor, the 
 hobgoblin army came marching by; there were men that 
 seemed to blow trumpets, and others to beat drums and strike 
 cymbals, yet never a sound did they make ; they all moved on 
 without the least noise, just as I have seen painted armies 
 move across the stage in the theatre of Granada, and all 
 looked as pale as death. At last in the rear of the army, 
 between two black Moorish horsemen, rode the grand inquisi 
 tor of Granada, on a mule as white as snow. Tio Nicolo won 
 dered to see him in such company; for the inquisitor was 
 famous for his hatred of Moors, and indeed of all kinds of 
 infidels, Jews and heretics, and used to hunt them out with 
 fire and scourge however, Tio Nicolo felt himself safe, now 
 that there was a priest of such sanctity at hand. So, making 
 the sign of the cross, he called out for his benediction, when 
 hombre ! he received a blow that sent him and his old mule 
 over the edge of a steep bank, down which they rolled, head 
 over heels, to the bottom. Tio Nicolo did not come to his 
 senses until long after sunrise, when he found himself at the 
 bottom of a deep ravine, his mule grazing beside him, and his 
 panniers of snow completely melted. He crawled back to 
 Granada sorely bruised and battered, and was glad to find the 
 city looking as usual, with Christian churches and crosses. 
 When he told the story of his night s adventure, every one 
 laughed at him : some said he had dreamt it all, as he dozed 
 on his mule, others thought it all a fabrication of his own. 
 But what was strange, Senor, and made people afterwards 
 think more seriously of the matter, was, that the grand in 
 quisitor died within the year. I have often heard my grand 
 father, the tailor, say that there was more meant by that 
 
THE COURT OF LIONS. 63 
 
 hobgoblin army bearing off the resemblance of the priest, than 
 folks dared to surmise. " 
 
 "Then you would insinuate, friend Mateo, that there is a 
 kind of Moorish limbo, or purgatory, in the bowels of these 
 mountains; to which the padre inquisitor was borne off." 
 
 " God forbid Seiior I know nothing of the matter I only 
 relate what I heard from my grandfather." 
 
 By the time Mateo had finished the tale which I have more 
 succinctly related, and which was interlarl3l with many 
 comments, and spun out with minute details, we reached the 
 gate of the Alhambra. 
 
 THE COURT OF LIONS. 
 
 THE peculiar charm of this old dreamy palace, is its power 
 of calling up vague reveries and picturings of the past, and 
 thus clothing naked realities with the illusions of the memory 
 and the imagination. As I delight to walk in these "vain 
 shadows," I am prone to seek those parts of the Alhambra 
 which are most favourable to this phantasmagoria of the 
 mind ; and none are more so than the Court of Lions and its 
 surrounding halls. Here the hand of time has fallen the 
 lightest, and the traces of Moorish elegance and splendour 
 exist in almost their original brilliancy. Earthquakes have 
 shaken the foundations of this pile, and rent its rudest towers, 
 yet see not one of those slender columns has been displaced, 
 not an arch of that light and fragile colonnade has given way, 
 and all the fairy fretwork of these domes, apparently as un 
 substantial as the crystal fabrics of a morning s frost, yet exist* 
 after the lapse of centuries, almost as fresh as if from the hand 
 of the Moslem artist. 
 
 I write in the midst of these mementos of the past, in the 
 fresh hour of early morning, in the fated hall of the Abencer- 
 rages. The blood-stained fountain, the legendary monument 
 of their massacre, is before me ; the lofty jet almost casts its 
 dew upon my paper. How difficult to reconcile the ancient 
 tale of violence and blood, with the gentle and peaceful scene 
 around. Every thing here appears calculated to inspire kii 
 and happy feelings, for every thing is delicate and beautiful 
 The very light falls tenderly from above, through the lantern 
 
(54 TUB ALHAMBRA. 
 
 of a dome tinted and wrought as if by fairy hands. Through 
 the ample and fretted arch of the portal, I behold the Court of 
 Lions, with brilliant sunshine gleaming along its colonnades 
 and sparkling in its fountains. The lively swallow dives into 
 the court, and then surging upwards, darts away twittering 
 over the roof ; the busy bee toils humming among the flower 
 beds, and painted butterflies hover from plant to plant, and 
 flutter up, and sport with each other in the sunny air. It 
 needs but a slight exertion of the fancy to picture some pen 
 sive beauty of the harem, loitering in these secluded haunts of 
 oriental luxury. 
 
 He, however, who would behold this scene under an aspect 
 more in unison with its fortunes, let him come when the 
 shadows of evening temper the brightness of the court, and 
 throw a gloom into the surrounding halls, then nothing can 
 be more serenely melancholy, or more in harmony with the 
 tale of departed grandeur. 
 
 At such times I am apt to seek the Hall of Justice, whose 
 deep shadowy arcades extend across the upper end of the 
 court. Here were performed, in presence of Ferdinand and 
 Isabella, and their triumphant court, the pompous ceremonies 
 of high mass, on taking possession of the Alhambra. The very 
 cross is still to be seen upon the wall, where the altar was 
 erected, and where officiated the grand cardinal of Spain, and 
 others of the highest religious dignitaries of the land. 
 
 I picture to myself the scene when this place was filled with 
 the conquering host, that mixture of mitred prelate, and shorn 
 monk, and steel-clad knight, and silken courtier : when crosses 
 and croziers and religious standards were mingled with proud 
 armorial ensigns and the banners of the haughty chiefs of 
 Spain, and flaunted in triumph through these Moslem halls. 
 J. picture to myself Columbus, the future discoverer of a world, 
 taking his modest stand in a remote corner, the humble and 
 neglected spectator of the pageant. I see in imagination the 
 Catholic sovereigns prostrating themselves before the altar 
 and pouring forth thanks for their victory, while the vaults 
 resound with sacred minstrelsy and the deep-toned Te Deum. 
 
 The transient illusion is over the pageant melts from the 
 fancy monarch, priest, and warrior return into oblivion, with 
 the poor Moslems over whom they exulted. The hall of their 
 triumph is waste and desolate. The bat flits about its twilight 
 vaults, and the owl hoots from the neighbouring tower of 
 Comares. The Court of the Lions has also its share of super- 
 
THE COURT OJ LIONS. 65 
 
 natural legends. I have already mentioned the belief in the 
 murmuring of voices and clanking of chains, made at night 
 by the spirits of the murdered Abencerrages. Mateo Ximenes, 
 a few evening since, at one of the gatherings in Dame An- 
 tonia s apartment, related a fact which happened within the 
 knowledge of his grandfather, the legendary tailor. There 
 was an invalid soldier, who had charge of the Alhambra, to 
 show it to strangers. As he was one evening about twilight 
 passing through the Court of Lions, he heard footsteps in the 
 Hall of the Abencerrages. Supposing some loungers to be 
 lingering there, he advanced to attend upon them, when, to his 
 astonishment, he beheld four Moors richly dressed, with gilded 
 cuirasses and scimitars, and poniards glittering with precious 
 stones. They were walking to and fro with solemn pace, but 
 paused and beckoned to him. The old soldier, however, took 
 to flight; and could never afterwards be prevailed upon to 
 enter the Alhambra. Thus it is that men sometimes turn 
 their backs upon fortune ; for it is the firm opinion of Mateo 
 that the Moors intended to reveal the place where their treas 
 ures lay buried. A successor to the invalid soldier was more 
 knowing ; he came to the Alhambra poor, but at the end of a 
 year went off to Malaga, bought horses, set up a carriage, and 
 still lives there, one of the richest as well as oldest men of the 
 place : all which, Mateo sagely surmises, was in consequence of 
 his finding out the golden secret of these phantom Moors. 
 
 On entering the Court of the Lions, a few evenings since, I 
 was startled at beholding a turbaned Moor quietly seated near 
 the fountain. It seemed, for a moment, as if one of the stories 
 of Mateo Ximenes were realized, and some ancient inhabitant 
 of the Alhambra had broken the spell of centuries, and become 
 visible. It proved, however, to be a mere ordinary mortal ; a 
 native of Tetuan in Barbary, who had a shop in the Zacatiii of 
 Granada, where he sold rhubarb, trinkets, and perfumes. As 
 he spoke Spanish fluently, I was enabled to hold conversation 
 with him, and found him shrewd and intelligent. He told me 
 that he came up the hill occasionally in the summer, to pass a 
 part of the day in the Alhambra, which reminded, him of the 
 old palaces in Barbary, which were built and adorned in simi 
 lar style, though with less magnificence. 
 
 As we walked about the palace he pointed out several of the 
 Arabic inscriptions, as possessing much poetic beauty. 
 
 " Ah! Sefior," said he, "when the Moors held Granada, they 
 were a gayei people than they are now-a-days. They thought 
 
66 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 only of love, of music, and of poetry. They made stanzas 
 upon every occasion, and set them all to music. He who could 
 make the best verses, and she who had the most tuneful voice, 
 might be sure of favour and preferment. In those days, if 
 any one asked for bread the reply was, Make me a couplet ; 
 and the poorest beggar, if he begged in rhyme, would often be 
 rewarded with a piece of gold." 
 
 "And is the popular feeling or poetry," said I, "entirely 
 lost among you?" 
 
 "By no means, Senor; the people of Barbary, even those of 
 the lower classes, still make couplets, and good ones too, as in 
 the old time, but talent is not rewarded as it was then : the 
 rich prefer the jingle of their gold to the sound of poetry or 
 music." 
 
 As he was talking, his eye caught one of the inscriptions 
 that foretold perpetuity to the power and glory of the Moslem 
 monarchs, the masters of the pile. He shook his head and 
 shrugged his shoulders as he interpreted it. "Such might 
 have been the case," said he; "the Moslems might still have 
 been reigning in the Alhambra, had not Boabdil been a trai 
 tor, and given up his capitol to the Christians. The Spanish 
 monarchs would never have been able to conquer it by open 
 force." 
 
 I endeavoured to vindicate the memory of the unlucky Bo 
 abdil from this aspersion, and -to show that the dissensions 
 which led to the downfall of the Moorish throne, originated in 
 the cruelty of his tiger-hearted father; but the Moor would 
 admit of no palliation. 
 
 "Abul Hassan," said he, "might have been cruel, but he 
 was brave, vigilant, and patriotic. Had he been properly 
 seconded, Granada would still have been ours; but his son 
 Boabdil thwarted his plans, crippled his power, sowed treason 
 in his palace, and dissension in his camp. May the curse of 
 God light upon him for his treachery." With these words the 
 Moor left the Alhambra. 
 
 The indignation of my turbaned companion agrees with an 
 anecdote related by a friend, who, in the course of a tour in 
 Barbary, had an interview with the pasha of Tetuan. The 
 Moorish governor was particular in his inquiries about the soil, 
 the climate and resources of Spain, and especially concerning 
 the favoured regions of Andalusia, the delights of Granada 
 and the remains of its royal palace. The replies awakened all 
 those fond recollections, so deeply cherished by the Moors, of 
 
BOABDIL EL CHICO. 67 
 
 the power and splendour of their ancient empire in Spain. 
 Turning to his Moslem attendants, the pasha stroked his 
 beard, and broke forth in passionate lamentations that such a 
 sceptre should have fallen from the sway of true believers. 
 He consoled himself, however, with the persuasion, that the 
 power and prosperity of the Spanish nation were on the de 
 cline ; that a time would come when the Moors would recon 
 quer their rightful domains ; and that the day was, perhaps, 
 not far distant, when Mohammedan worship would again be 
 offered up in the mosque of Cordova, and a Mohammedan 
 prince sit on his throne in the Alhambra. 
 
 Such is the general aspiration and belief among the Moors of 
 Barbary ; who consider Spain, and especially Andalusia, their 
 rightful heritage, of which they have been despoiled by 
 treachery and violence. These ideas are fostered and per 
 petuated by the descendants of the exiled Moors of Granada, 
 scattered among the cities of Barbary. Several of these reside 
 in Tetuan. preserving their ancient names, such as Paez, and 
 Medina, and refraining from intermarriage with any families 
 who cannot claim the same high origin. Their vaunted lineage 
 is regarded with a degree of popular deference rarely shown in 
 Mohammedan communities to any hereditary distinction ex 
 cept in the royal line. 
 
 These families, it is said, continue to sigh after the terres 
 trial paradise of their ancestors, and to put up prayers in their 
 ino^ques on Fridays, imploring Allah to hasten the time when 
 Granada shall be restored to the faithful ; an event to which 
 they look forward as fondly and confidently as did the Chris 
 tian crusaders to the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre. Nay, it 
 is added, that some of them retain the ancient maps and deeds 
 of the estates and gardens of their ancestors at Granada, and 
 even the keys of the houses; holding them as evidences of 
 their hereditary claims, to be produced at the anticipated day 
 of restoration. 
 
 BOABDIL EL CHICO. 
 
 MY conversation with the Moor in the Court of Lions set me 
 to musing on the singular fate of Boabdil. Never was sur 
 name more applicable than that bestowed upon him by his 
 subjects, of " El Zogoybi, " or, the unlucky. " His misfortunes 
 
68 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 began almost in his cradle. In his tender youth he was impris 
 oned and menaced with death by an inhuman father, and only 
 escaped through a mother s stratagem ; in after years his life 
 was imhittered and repeatedly endangered by the hostilities of 
 a usurping uncle; his reign was distracted by external inva 
 sions and internal feuds ; he was alternately the foe, the pris 
 oner, the friend, and always the dupe of Ferdinand, until 
 conquered and dethroned by the mingled craft and force of 
 that perfidious monarch. An exile from his native land, he 
 took refuge with one of the princes of Africa, and fell ob 
 scurely in battle fighting in the cause of a stranger. His mis 
 fortunes ceased not with his death. If Boabdil cherished a 
 desire to leave an honourable name on the historic page, how 
 cruelly has he been defrauded of his hopes ! Who is there that 
 has turned the least attention to the romantic history of the 
 Moorish domination in Spain, without kindling with indigna 
 tion at the alleged atrocities of Boabdil? Who has not been 
 touched with the woes of his lovely and gentle queen, subjected 
 by him to a trial of life and death, on a false charge of infidel 
 ity? Who has not been shocked by the alleged murder of his 
 sister and her two children, in a transport of passion? Who 
 has not felt his blood boil at the inhuman massacre of the gal 
 lant Abencerrages, thirty-six of whom, it is affirmed, he caused 
 to be beheaded in the Court of the Lions? All these charges 
 have been reiterated in various forms ; they have passed into 
 ballads, dramas, and romances, until they have taken too 
 thorough possession of the public mind to be eradicated. 
 
 There is not a foreigner of education that visits the Alham- 
 bra, but asks for the fountain where the Abencerrages were 
 beheaded; and gazes with horror at the grated gallery *vhcTo 
 the queen is said to have been confined ; not a peasant of the 
 Vega or the Sierra, but sings the story in rude couplets to the 
 accompaniment of his guita- while his hearers learn to exe 
 crate the very name of Boabdil. 
 
 Never, however, was name more foully and unjustly slan 
 dered. I have examined all the authentic chronicles and 
 letters written by Spanish authors contemporary with Boab 
 dil ; some of whom were in the confidence of the Catholic sove 
 reigns, and actually present in the camp throughout the war ; 
 I have examined all the Arabian authorities I could get access 
 to through the medium of translation, and can find nothing to 
 justify these dark and hateful accusations. 
 
 The whole of these tales may be traced to a work commonlv 
 
BOABDIL EL CHICO. gg 
 
 called "The Civil Wars of Granada," containing a pretended 
 history of the feuds of the Zegries and Abencerrages during 
 the last struggle of the Moorish empire. This work appeared 
 originally in Spanish, and professed to be translated from the 
 Arabic by one Gines Perez de Hita, an inhabitant of Murcia. 
 It has since passed into various languages, and Florian has 
 taken from it much of the fable of his Gonsalvo of Cordova. 
 It has, in a great measure, usurped the authority of real his 
 tory, and is currently believed by the people, and especially 
 the peasantry of Granada. The whole of it, however, is a mass 
 of fiction, mingled with a few disfigured truths, which give it 
 an air of veracity. It bears internal evidence of its falsity, the 
 manners and customs of the Moors being extravagantly mis 
 represented in it, and scenes depicted totally incompatible 
 with their habits and their faith, and which never could have 
 been recorded by a Mahometan writer. 
 
 I confess there seems to me something almost criminal in the 
 wilful perversions of this work. Great latitude is undoubtedly 
 to be allowed to romantic fiction, but there are limits which it 
 must not pass, and the names of the distinguished dead, which 
 belong to history, are no more to be calumniated than those of 
 the illustrious living. One would have thought, too, that the 
 unfortunate Boabdil had suffered enough for his justifiable 
 hostility to Spaniards, by being stripped of his kingdom, with 
 out having his name thus wantonly traduced and rendered a 
 bye- word and a theme of infamy in his native land, and in the 
 very mansion of his fathers ! 
 
 It is not intended hereby to affirm that the transactions in> 
 puted to Boabdil are totally without historic foundation, but 
 as far as they can be traced, they appear to have been the arts 
 of his father, Abul Hassan, who is represented, by both Chris 
 tian and Arabian chroniclers, as being of a cruel and ferocious 
 nature. It was he who put to death the cavaliers of the illus 
 trious line of the Abencerrages, upon suspicion of their being 
 engaged in a conspiracy to dispossess him of his throne. 
 
 The story of the accusation of the queen of Boabdil, and of 
 her confinement in one of the towers, may also be traced to an 
 incident in the life of his tiger-hearted father. Abul Hassan, 
 in his advanced age, married a beautiful Christian captive of 
 noble descent, who took the Moorish appellation of Zorayda, 
 by whom he had two sons. She was of an ambitious spirit, 
 and anxious that her children should succeed to the crown! 
 For this purpose she worked upon the suspicious temper of tb*) 
 
70 THE ALHAMBEA. 
 
 king; inflaming him with jealousies of his children by his 
 other wives and concubines, whom she . accused of plotting 
 against his throne and life. Some of them were slain by the 
 ferocious father. Ayxa la Horra, the virtuous mother of Bo- 
 abdil, who had once been his cherished favourite, became 
 likewise the object of his suspicion. He confined her and her 
 son in the tower of Comares, and would have sacrificed Boab- 
 dil to his fury, but that his tender mother lowered him from 
 the tower, in the night, by means of the scarfs of herself and 
 her attendants, and thus enabled him to escape to Guadix. 
 
 Such is the only shadow of a foundation that I can find for 
 the story of the accused and captive queen; and in this it 
 appears that Boabdil was the persecuted instead of the per 
 secutor. 
 
 Throughout the whole of his brief, turbulent, and disastrous 
 reign, Boabdil gives evidences of a mild and amiable character. 
 He in the first instance won the hearts of the people by his 
 affable and gracious manners; he was always peaceable, and 
 never inflicted any severity of punishment upon those who 
 occasionally rebelled against him. He was personally brave, 
 but he wanted moral courage, and in times of difficulty and 
 perplexity, was wavering and irresolute. This feebleness of 
 spirit hastened his downfall, while it deprived him of that 
 heroic grace which would have given a grandeur and dignity 
 to his fate, and rendered him worthy of closing the splendid 
 drama of the Moslem domination in Spain. 
 
 MEMENTOS OF BOABDIL. 
 
 WHILE my mind was still warm with the subject of the un 
 fortunate Boabdil, I set forth to trace the mementos connected 
 with his story, which yet exist in this scene of his sovereignty 
 and his misfortunes. In the picture gallery of the Palace of the 
 Generalise, hangs his portrait. The face is mild, handsome and 
 somewhat melancholy, with a -air complexion and yellow hair ; 
 if it be a true representation of the man, he may have been 
 wavering and uncertain, but there is nothing of cruelty or un- 
 kindness in his aspect. 
 
 I next visited the dungeon wherein he was confined in his 
 youthful days, when his cruel father meditated his destruction, 
 
MEMENTOS OF BOABDIL. ^ 
 
 It is a vaulted room in the tower of Comares, under the Hall of 
 Ambassadors. A similar room, separated by a narrow passage, 
 was the prison of his mother, the virtuous Ayxa la Horra. 
 The walls are of prodigious thickness, and the small windows 
 secured by iron bars. A narrow stone gallery, with a low par 
 apet, extends round three sides of the tower just below the 
 windows, but at a considerable height from the ground. From 
 this gallery, it is presumed, the queen lowered her son with the 
 scarfs of herself and her female attendants, during the dark 
 ness of night, to the hillside, at the loot of which waited a do 
 mestic with a fleet steed to bear the prince to the mountains. 
 
 As I paced this gallery, my imagination pictured the anxious 
 queen leaning over the parapet, and listening, with the throb- 
 bings of a mother s heart, to the last echo of the horse s hoofs, 
 as her son scoured along the narrow valley of the Darro. 
 
 My next search was for the gate by which Boabdil departed 
 from the Alhambra, when about to surrender his capital. 
 With the melancholy caprice of a broken spirit, he requested 
 of the Catholic monarchs that no one afterwards might be per 
 mitted to pass through this gate. His prayer, according to an 
 cient chronicles, was complied with, through the sympathy of 
 Isabella, and the gate walled up. For some time I inquired in 
 vain for such a portal ; at length my humble attendant, Mateo, 
 learned among the old residents of the fortress, that a ruinous 
 gateway still existed, by which, according to tradition, the 
 Moorish king had left the fortress, but which had never been 
 opened within the memory of the oldest inhabitant. 
 
 He conducted me to the spot. The gateway is in the centre 
 of what was once an immense tower, called la Torre de los 
 Siete Suelos, or, the Tower of the Seven Moors. It is a place 
 famous in the superstitious stories of the neighbourhood, for 
 being the scene of strange apparitions and Moorish enchant 
 ments. 
 
 This once redoubtable tower is now a mere wreck, having 
 been blown up with gunpowder, by the French, when they 
 abandoned the fortress. Groat masses of the wall lie scattered 
 about, buried in the luxuriant herbage, or overshadowed by 
 vines and fig-trees. The arch of the gateway, though rent by 
 the shock, still remains ; but the last wish of poor Boabdil has 
 been again, though unintentionally, fulfilled, for the portal has 
 been closed up by loose stones gathered from the ruins, and re 
 mains impassable. 
 
 Following up the route of the Moslem monarch as it remains 
 
72 THE AL1IAMBRA. 
 
 on record, I crossed on horseback the hill of Les Martyrs, keep 
 ing along the garden of the convent of the same name, and 
 thence down a rugged ravine, beset by thickets of aloes and 
 Indian figs, and lined by caves and hovels swarming with gip 
 sies. It was the road taken by Boabdil to avoid passing 
 through the city. The descent was so steep and broken that I 
 was obliged to dismount and lead my horse. 
 
 Emerging from the ravine, and passing by the Puerta de los 
 Molinos, (the Gate of the Mills,) I issued forth upon the public 
 promenade, called the Prado, and pursuing the course of the 
 Xenil, arrived at a small Moorish mosque, now converted into 
 the chapel, or hermitage of San Sebastian. A tablet on the 
 wall relates that on this spot Boa,bdil surrendered the keys of 
 Granada to the Castilian sovereigns. 
 
 From thence I rode slowly across the Vega to a village where 
 the family and household of the unhappy king had awaited 
 him ; for he had sent them forward on the preceding night from 
 the Alhambra, that his mother and wife might not participate 
 in his personal humiliation, or be exposed to the gaze of the 
 conquerors. 
 
 Following on in the route of the melancholy band of royal 
 exiles, I arrived at the foot of a chain of barren and dreary 
 heights, forming the skirt of the Alpuxarra mountains. From 
 the summit of one of these, the unfortunate Boabdil took his 
 last look at Granada. It bears a name expressive of his sor 
 rowsLa Cuesta de las Lagrimas, (the Hill of Tears.) Beyond 
 it a sandy road winds across a rugged cheerless waste, doubly 
 dismal to the unhappy monarch, as it led to exile ; behind, in 
 the distance, lies the " enamelled Vega," with the Xenil shining 
 among its bowers, and Granada beyond. 
 
 I spurred my horse to the summit of a rock, where Boabdil 
 uttered his last sorrowful exclamation, as he turned his eyes 
 from taking their farewell gaze. It is still denominated el ul 
 timo suspiro del Moro, (the last sigh of the Moor.) Who can 
 wonder at his anguish at being expelled from such a kingdom 
 and such an abode? With the Alhambra he seemed to be 
 yielding up all the honours of his line, and all the glories and 
 delights of life. 
 
 It was here, too, that his affliction was imbittered by the re 
 proach of his mother Ayxa, who had so often assisted him in 
 times of peril, and had vainly sought to instil into him her own 
 resolute spirit. You do well, " said she, to weep as a woman 
 over what you could not defend as a man !" A speech that 
 
THE TOWER OF LAS INFANTAS. 73 
 
 savours more of the pride of the princess, than the tenderness 
 of the mother. 
 
 When this anecdote was related to Charles V., by Bishop 
 Guevara, the emperor joined in the expression of scorn at the 
 weakness of the wavering Boabdil. "Had I been he, or he 
 been I," said the haughty potentate, "I would rather have 
 made this Alhambra my sepulchre, than have lived without a 
 kingdom in the Alpuxarra. 
 
 How easy it is for them in power and prosperity to preach 
 heroism to the vanquished ! How little can they understand 
 that life itself may rise in value with the unfortunate, when 
 nought but life remains. 
 
 THE TOWER OF LAS INFANTAS. 
 
 IN an evening s stroll up a narrow glen, overshadowed by 
 fig-trees, pomegranates, and myrtles, that divides the land of 
 the fortress from those of the Generaliffe, I was struck with 
 the romantic appearance of a Moorish tower in the outer wall 
 of the Alhambra, that rose high above the tree-tops, and 
 caught the ruddy rays of the setting sun. A solitary window, 
 at a great height, commanded a view of the glen, and as I was 
 regarding it a young female looked out, with her head adorned 
 with flowers. She was evidently superior to the usual class of 
 people that inhabit the old towers of the fortress; and this 
 sudden and picturesque glimpse of her, reminded me of the 
 descriptions of captive beauties in fairy tales. The fanciful 
 associations of my mind were increased on being informed by 
 my attendant, Mateo, that this was the tower of the princesses, 
 (la Torre de las Infantas,) so called from having been, accord 
 ing to tradition, the residence of the daughters of the Moorish 
 kings. I have since visited the tower. It is not generally 
 shown to strangers, though well worthy attention, for the, 
 interior is equal for beauty of architecture and delicacy oi 
 ornament, to any part of the palace. The elegance of its cen 
 tral hall with its marble fountain, its lofty arches and richly 
 fretted dome; the arabesques and stucco work of the small, 
 but well-proportioned chambers, though injured by time and 
 neglect, all accord with the story of its being anciently the 
 abode of royal beauty. 
 
74 THE ALUAMBRA. 
 
 The little old fairy queen who lives under the staircase of 
 the Alhambra, and frequents the evening tertulias of Dame 
 Antoiiia, tells some fanciful traditions about three Moorish 
 princesses who were once shut up in this tower by their father, 
 a tyrant king of Granada, and were only permitted to ride out 
 at night about the hills, when no one was permitted to come in 
 their way, under pain of death. They still, according to her 
 account, may be seen occasionally when the moon is in the 
 full, riding in lonely places along the mountain side, on pal 
 freys richly caparisoned, and sparkling with jewels, but they 
 vanish on being spoken to. 
 
 But before I relate any thing farther respecting these prin 
 cesses, the reader may be anxious to know something about 
 the fair inhabitant of the tower with her head drest with 
 flowers, who looked out from the lofty window. She proved 
 to be the newly married spouse of the worthy adjutant of 
 invalids; who, though well stricken in years, had had the 
 courage to take to his bosom a young and buxom Andalusian 
 damsel. May the good old cavalier be happy in his choice, 
 and find the tower of the Princesses a more secure residence 
 for female beauty than it seems to have proved in the time of 
 the Moslems, if we may believe the following legend. 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE WEATHERCOCK. 
 
 ON the brow of the lofty hill of the Albaycin, the highest 
 part of the city of Granada, stand the remains of what was 
 once a royal palace, founded shortly after the conquest of 
 Spain by the Arabs. It is now converted into a manufactory, 
 and has fallen into such obscurity that it cost me much trouble 
 to find it. notwithstanding that I had the assistance of the 
 sagacious and all-knowing Mateo Ximenes. This edifice still 
 bears the name by which it has been known for centuries, 
 namely, la Casa del Gallo de Viento ; that is, the House of the 
 Weathercock. 
 
 It was so called from a bronze figure of a warrior on horse 
 back, armed with shield and spear, erected on one of its tur 
 rets, and turning with every wind ; bearing an Arabic motto, 
 which, translated into Spanish, was as follows : 
 
THE LEGEND OP THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 75 
 
 Dici el Sabio Aben Habuz 
 Que asi se deflende el Anduluz. 
 
 In this way, says Aben Habuz the wise, 
 The Andalusian his foe defies. 
 
 This Aben Habuz was a captain who served in the invading 
 army of Taric, and was left as alcayde of Granada. He is 
 supposed to have intended this warlike effigy as a perpetual 
 memorial to the Moorish inhabitants, that surrounded as they 
 were by foes, and subject to sudden invasion, their safety 
 depended upon being always ready for the field. 
 
 Other traditions, however, give a different account of this 
 Aben Habuz and his palace, and affirm that his bronze horse 
 man was originally a talisman of great virtue, though in after 
 ages it lost its magic properties and degenerated into a weath 
 ercock. The following are the traditions alluded to. 
 
 THE LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 
 
 IN old times, many hundred years ago, there was a Moorish 
 king named Aben Habuz, who reigned over the kingdom of 
 Granada. He was a retired conqueror, that is to say, one 
 who, having in his more youthful days led a life of constant 
 foray and depredation, now that he was grown old and super 
 annuated, "languished for repose," and desired nothing more 
 than to live at peace with all the world, to husband his laurels, 
 and to enjoy in quiet the possessions he had wrested from his 
 neighbours. 
 
 It so happened, however, that this most reasonable and 
 pacific old monarch had young rivals to deal with princes full 
 of his early passion for fame and fighting, and who had some 
 scores to settle which he had run up with their fathers ; he 
 had also some turbulent and discontented districts of his own 
 territories among the Alpuxarra mountains, which, during 
 tne days of his vigour, he had treated with a high hand ; and 
 which, now that he languished for repose, were prone to rise 
 in rebellion and to threaten to march to Granada and drive 
 him from his throne. To make the matter worse, as Granada 
 is surrounded by wild and craggy mountains which hide the 
 approach of an enemy, the unfortunate Aben Habuz was kept 
 in a constant state of vigilance and alarm, not knowing in 
 what quarter hostilities might break out. 
 
76 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 It was in vain that he built watch-towers on the mountains 
 and stationed guards at every pass, with orders to make fires 
 by night, and smoke by day, on the approach of an enemy. 
 His alert foes would baffle every precaution, and come break 
 ing out of some unthought-of defile, ravage his lands beneath 
 his very nose, and then make off with prisoners and booty to 
 the mountains. Was ever peaceable and retired conqueror in 
 a more uncomfortable predicament ! 
 
 While the pacific Aben Habuz was harassed by these per 
 plexities and molestations, an ancient Arabian physician ar 
 rived at his court. His gray beard descended to his girdle, 
 and he had every mark of extreme age, yet he had travelled 
 almost the whole way from Egypt on foot, with no other aid 
 than a staff marked with hieroglyphics. His fame had pre 
 ceded him. His name was Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub ; he was 
 said to have lived ever since the days of Mahomet, and to be 
 the son of Abu Ayub, the last of the companions of the prophet. 
 He had, when a child, followed the conquering army of Amru 
 into Egypt, where he had remained many years studying the 
 dark sciences, and particularly magic, among the Egyptian 
 priests. It was moreover said that he had found out the secret 
 of prolonging life, by means of which he had arrived to the 
 great age of upwards of two centuries ; though, as he did not 
 discover the secret until well stricken in years, he could only 
 perpetuate his gray hairs and wrinkles. 
 
 This wonderful old man was very honourably entertained 
 by the king; who, like most superannuated monarchs, began 
 to take physicians into great favour. He would have assigned 
 him an apartment in his palace, but the astrologer preferred a 
 cave in the side of the hill, which rises above the city of Gran 
 ada, being the same on which the Alhambra has since been 
 built. He caused the cave to be enlarged so as to form a 
 spacious and lofty hall with a circular hole at the top, through 
 which, as through a well, he could see the heavens and behold 
 the stars even at mid-day. The wall of this hall were covered 
 with Egyptian hieroglyphics, with cabalistic symbols, and with 
 the figures of the stars in their signs. This hall he furnished 
 with many implements, fabricated under his direction by cun 
 ning artificers of Granada, but the occult properties of which 
 were only known to himself. In a little while the sage Ibra 
 him became the bosom counsellor of the king, to whom he ap 
 plied for advice in every emergency. Aben Habuz was once 
 inveighing against the injustice of his neighbours, and bewail 
 
THE LKGEHD OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 77 
 
 Ing the restless vigilance he had to observe to guard himself 
 against their invasions ; when he had finished, the astrologer 
 remained silent for a moment, and then replied, Know, O 
 king, that when I was in Egypt I beheld a great marvel devised 
 by a pagan priestess of old. On a mountain above the city of 
 Borsa, and overlooking the great valley of the Nile, was a 
 figure of a ram, and above it a figure of a cock, both of molten 
 brass and turning upon a pivot. Whenever the country was 
 threatened with invasion, the ram would turn in the direction 
 of the enemy and the cock would crow ; upon this the inhabi 
 tants of the city knew of the danger, and of the quarter from 
 which it was approaching, and could take timely notice to 
 guard against it." 
 
 "God is great!" exclaimed the pacific Aben Habuz ; "what 
 a treasure would be such a ram to keep an eye upon these 
 mountains around me, and then such a cock to crow in time of 
 danger! Allah Achbar! how securely I might sleep in my 
 palace with such sent: lels on the top !" 
 
 " Listen, O king," continued the astrologer gravely. "When 
 the victorious Amru (God s peace be upon him !) conquered the 
 city of Borsa, this talisman was destroyed ; but I was present, 
 and examined it, and studied its secret and mystery, and can 
 make one of like, and even of greater virtues." 
 
 " O wise son of Abu Ayub," cried Aben Habuz, "better were 
 such a talisman than all the watch-towers on the hills, and 
 sentinels upon the borders. Give me such a safeguard, and 
 the riches of my treasury are at thy command." 
 
 The astrologer immediately set to work to gratify the wishes 
 of the monarch ; shutting himself up in his astrological hall, 
 and exerting the necromantic arts he had learnt in Egypt, he 
 summoned to his assistance the spirits and demons of the Nile. 
 By his command they transported to his presence a mummy 
 from a sepulchral chamber in the centre of one of the Pyra 
 mids. It was the mummy of the priest who had aided by 
 magic art in rearing that stupendous pile. 
 
 The astrologer opened the outer cases of the mummy, and 
 unfolded its many wrappers. On the breast of the corpse was 
 a book written in Chaldaic characters. He seized it with 
 trembling hand, then returning the mummy to its case, 
 ordered the demons to transport it again to its dark and silent 
 sepulchre in the Pyramid, there to await the final day of resur 
 rection and judgment. 
 
 This book, say the traditions, was the book of knowledge 
 
78 THE A LH AM BRA. 
 
 given by God to Adam after his fall. It had been handed 
 down from generation to generation, to King Solomon the 
 Wise, and by the aid of the wonderful secrets in magic and art 
 revealed in it, he had built the temple of Jerusalem. How it 
 had come into the possession of the builder of the Pyramids, 
 He only knows who knows all things. 
 
 Instructed by this mystic volume, and aided by the genii 
 which it subjected to his command, the astrologer soon erected 
 a great tower upon the top of the palace of Aben Habuz, which 
 stood on the brow of the hill of the Albaycin. The tower was 
 built of stones brought from Egypt, and taken, it is said, from 
 one of the Pyramids. In the upper part of the tower was a 
 circular hall, with windows looking toward every point of the 
 compass, and before each window was a table, on which was 
 arranged, as on a chess-board, a mimic army of horse and foot, 
 with the effigy of the potentate that ruled in that direction ; all 
 carved of wood. To each of these tables there was a small 
 lance, no bigger than a bodkin, on which were engraved certain 
 mysterious Chaldaic characters. This hall was kept constantly 
 closed by a gate of brass with a great lock of steel, the key of 
 which was in possession of the king. 
 
 On. the top of the tower was a bronze figure of a Moorish 
 horseman, fixed on a pivot, with a shield on one arm, and his 
 lance elevated perpendicularly. The face of this horseman 
 was towards the city, as if keeping guard over it ; but if any 
 foe were at hand, the figure would turn in that direction and 
 would level the lance as if for action. 
 
 When this talisman was finished, Aben Habuz was all impa 
 tient to try its virtues ; and longed as ardently for an invasion 
 as he had ever sighed after repose. His desire was soon grati 
 fied. Tidings were brought early one morning, by the sentinel 
 appointed to watch the tower, that the face of the brazen horse 
 man was turned towards the mountains of Elvira, and that his 
 lance pointed directly against the pass of Lope. 
 
 " Let the drums and trumpets sound to arms, and all Gran 
 ada be put on the alert," said Aben Habuz. 
 
 "0 king," said the astrologer, "let not your city be dis 
 quieted, nor your warriors called to arms ; we need no aid of 
 force to deliver you from your enemies. Dismiss your attend 
 ants and let us proceed alone to the secret hall of the tower. " 
 
 The ancient Aben Habuz mounted the staircase of the tower, 
 leaning on the arm of the still more ancient Ibrahim Ebn Abu 
 Ayub. They unlocked the brazen door and entered. 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 79 
 
 window that looked towards the pass of Lope was open. u In 
 this direction," said the astrologer, " lies the danger approach, 
 king, and behold the mystery of the table. " 
 
 King Aben Habuz approached the seeming chess-board, on 
 which were arranged the small wooden effigies; when lo! they 
 were all in motion. The horses pranced and curveted, the 
 warriors brandished their weapons, and there was a faint 
 sound of drums and trumpets, and a clang of arms and neigh 
 ing of steeds, but all no louder, nor more distinct, than the 
 hum of the bee or summer-fly in the drowsy ear of him who 
 lies at noon-tide in the shade. 
 
 "Behold, O king," said the astrologer, "a proof that thy en- 
 emies are even now in the field. They must be advancing 
 through yonder mountains by the pass of Lope. Would you 
 produce a panic and confusion amongst them, and cause them 
 to abandon their enterprise and retreat without loss of life, 
 strike these effigies with the butt end of this magic lance ; but 
 would you cause bloody feud and carnage among them, strike 
 with the point." 
 
 A livid streak passed across the countenance of the pacific 
 Aben Habuz ; he seized the mimic lance with trembling eager- 
 ness, and tottered towards the table ; his gray beard wagged 
 with chuckling exultation. "Son of Abu Ayub," exclaimed 
 he, u I think we will have a little blood !" 
 
 So saying he thrust the magic lance into some of the pigmy 
 effigies, and belaboured others with the butt end ; upon which 
 the former fell, as dead, upon the board, and the rest turning 
 upon each other, began, pell-mell, a chance-medley fight. 
 
 It was with difficulty the astrologer could stay the hand oi 
 the most pacific of monarchs, and prevent him from absolutely 
 exterminating his foes. At length he prevailed upon him to 
 leave the tower, and to send out scouts to the mountains by 
 the pass of Lope. 
 
 They returned with the intelligence that a Christian army 
 had advanced through the heart of the Sierra, almost within 
 sight of Granada, when a dissension having broken out among 
 them, they had turned their weapons against each other, and 
 after much slaughter, had retreated over the border. 
 
 Aben Habuz was transported with joy on thus proving the 
 efficacy of the talisman. "At length," said he, "I shall lead 
 a life of tranquillity, and have all my enemies in my power. 
 Oh ! wise son of Abu Ayub, what can I bestow on thee in re 
 ward for such a blessing ?" 
 
80 THE ALUAMBRA. 
 
 "The wants of an old man and a philosopher, O king, arc 
 few and simple grant me but the means of fitting up my cave 
 as a suitable hermitage, and I am content. " 
 
 "How noble is the moderation of the truly wise !" exclaimed 
 Aben Habuz, secretly pleased at the cheapness of the recom 
 pense. He summoned his treasurer, and bade him dispense 
 whatever sums might be required by Ibrahim to complete and 
 furnish his hermitage. 
 
 The astrologer now gave orders to have various chambers 
 hewn out of the solid rock, so as to form ranges of apartments 
 connected with his astrological hall. These he caused to be 
 furnished with luxurious ottomans and divans ; and the walls 
 to be hung with the richest silks of Damascus. "I am an old 
 man," said he, "and can no longer rest my bones on stone 
 couches; and these damp walls require covering." 
 
 He also had baths constructed and provided with all kinds of 
 perfumery and aromatic oils; " for a bath," said he, "is neces 
 sary to counteract the rigidity of age, and to restore freshness 
 and suppleness to the frame withered by study. " 
 
 He caused the apartments to be hung with innumerable silver 
 and crystal lamps, which he filled with a fragrant oil prepared 
 according to a receipt discovered by him in the tombs of Egypt. 
 This oil was perpetual in its nature, and diffused a soft radi 
 ance like the tempered light of day. "The light of the sun," 
 said he, is too garish and violent for the eyes of an old man ; 
 and the light of the lamp is more congenial to the studies of a 
 philosopher." 
 
 The treasurer of King Aben Habuz groaned at the sums 
 daily demanded to fit up this hermitage, and he carried his 
 complaints to the king. The royal word, however, was given 
 Aben Habuz shrugged his shoulders. "We must have pa 
 tience," said he; "this old man has taken his idea of a philo 
 sophic retreat from the interior of the Pyramids and the vast 
 ruins of Egypt ; but all things have an end, and so will the 
 furnishing of his cavern." 
 
 The king was in the right ; the hermitage was at length com 
 plete, and formed a sumptuous subterranean palace. "I am 
 now content," said Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub, to the treasurer; 
 "I will shut myself up in my cell and devote my time to study. 
 I desire nothing more, nothing, except a trifling solace to 
 amuse me at the intervals of mental labour. " 
 
 "Oh! wise Ibrahim, ask what thou wilt; I am bound to fur 
 nish all that is necessary for thy solitude." 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 81 
 
 " I would fain have then a few dancing women," said the 
 philosopher. 
 
 "Dancing women!" echoed the treasurer with surprise. 
 
 "Dancing women," replied the sage, gravely: "a few will 
 suffice ; for I am an old man and a philosopher, of simple hab 
 its and easily satisfied. Let them, however, be young and fair 
 to look upon for the sight of youth and beauty is refreshing 
 to old age." 
 
 While the philosophic Ibrahim Ebn Ayub passed his time 
 thus sagely in his hermitage, the pacific Aben Habuz carried 
 on furious campaigns in effigy in his tower. It was a glorious 
 thing for an old man like himself, of quiet habits, to have war 
 made easy, and to be enabled to amuse himself in his chamber 
 by brushing away whole armies like so many swarms of flies. 
 For a time he rioted in the indulgence of his humours, and 
 even taunted and insulted his neighbuurs to induce them to 
 make incursions ; but by degrees they grew wary from repeated 
 disasters, until no one ventured to uwade his territories. For 
 many months the bronze horseman remained on the peace 
 establishment with his lance elevated in the air, and the 
 worthy old monarch began to repine at the want of his ac 
 customed sport, and to grow peevish at his monotonous tran 
 quillity. 
 
 At length, one day, the talismanic horseman veered suddenly 
 round, and, lowering his lance, made a dead point towards the 
 mountains of Guadix. Aben Habuz hastened to his tower, but 
 the magic table in that direction remained quiet not a single 
 warrior was in motion. Perplexed at the circumstance, he sent 
 forth a troop of horse to scour the mountains and reconnoitre. 
 They returned after three days absence. Rodovan, the captain 
 of the troop, addressed the king: "We have searched every 
 mountain pass," said he, "but not a helm or spear was stirring. 
 All that we have found in the course of our foray was a Chris 
 tian damsel of surpassing beauty, sleeping at noon-tidfe beside 
 a fountain, whom we have brought away captive." 
 
 "A damsel of surpassing beauty!" exclaimed Aben Habuz, 
 his eyes gleaming with animation: " let her be conducted into 
 my presence." "Pardon me, O king!" replied Rodovan, "but 
 our warfare at present is scanty ; and yields but little harvest. 
 I had hoped this chance gleaning would have been allowed foi 
 my services. " 
 
 Chance gleaning !" cried Aben Habuz. What ! a damsel 
 of surpassing beauty! By the head of my father! it is the 
 
82 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 choice fruits of warfare, only to be garnered up into the royal 
 keeping. Let the damsel be brought hither instantly." 
 
 The beautiful damsel was accordingly conducted into his 
 presence. She was arrayed in the Gothic style, with all the 
 luxury of ornament that had prevailed among the Gothic, 
 Spaniards at the time of the Arabian conquest. Pearls of 
 dazzling whiteness were entwined with her raven tresses ; and 
 jewels sparkled on her forehead, rivalling the lustre of her 
 eyes. Around her neck was a golden chain, to which was 
 suspended a silver lyre which hung by her side. 
 
 The flashes of her dark refulgent eye were like sparks of fire 
 on the withered, yet combustible breast of Aben Habuz, and 
 set it in a flame. The swimming voluptuousness of her gait 
 made his senses reel. "Fairest of women," cried he, with 
 rapture, " who and what art thou?"- 
 
 The daughter of one of the Gothic princes who lately ruled 
 over this land. The armies of my father have been destroyed 
 as if by magic among these mountains, he has been driven into 
 exile, and his daughter is a slave." 
 
 "Be comforted, beautiful princess thou art no longer a 
 slave, but a sovereign ; turn thine eyes graciously upon Aben 
 Habuz, and reign over him and his dominions." 
 
 "Beware, O king," whispered Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub; 
 * this may be some spirit conjured up by the magicians of the 
 Goths, and sent for thy undoing. Or it may be one of those 
 northern sorceresses, who assume the most seducing forms to 
 beguile the unwary. Methinks I read witchcraft in her eye, 
 and sorcery in every movement. Let my sovereign beware 
 this must be the enemy pointed out by the talisman. " "Son 
 of Abu Ayub," replied the king, " you are a wise man and a 
 conjuror, I grant but you are little versed in the ways of 
 woman. In the knowledge of the sex, I will yield to no man ; 
 no, not to the wise Solomon himself, notwithstanding the 
 number of his wives and his concubines. As to this damsel, 
 I see much comfort in her for my old days, even such comfort 
 as David, the father of Solomon, found in the society of 
 Abishag the Shunamite." 
 
 " Hearken, O king," rejoined the astrologer, suddenly chang 
 ing his tone "I have given thee many triumphs over thy 
 enemies, and by means of my talisman, yet thou hast never 
 given me share of the spoils ; grant me this one stray captive 
 to solace me in my retirement, and I am content. " 
 
 !" cried Aben Habuz, "more women! hast thou not 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 83 
 
 already dancing women to solace thee what more wouldst 
 thou desire." 
 
 "Dancing women, have I, it is true; but I have none that 
 sing; and music is a balm to old age. This captive, I perceive, 
 beareth a silver lyre, and must be skilled in minstrelsy. Give 
 her to me, I pray thee, to soothe my senses after the toil of 
 study." 
 
 The ire of the pacific monarch was kindled, and he loaded 
 the philosopher with reproaches. The latter retired indig 
 nantly to his hermitage; but ere he departed, he again 
 warned the monarch to beware of his beautiful captive. 
 Where, in fact, is the old man in love that will listen to coun 
 sel? Aben Habuz had felt the fuirpower of the witchery of 
 the eye, and the sorcery of movement, and the more he gazed, 
 the more he was enamoured. 
 
 He resigned himself to the full sway of his passions. His 
 only study, was how to render himself amiable in the eyes of 
 the Gothic beauty. He had not youth, it is true, to recom 
 mend him, but then he had riches ; and when a lover is no 
 longer young, he becomes generous. The Zacatin of Granada 
 was ransacked for the most precious merchandise of the East. 
 Silks, jewels, precious gems and exquisite perfumes, all that 
 Asia and Africa yielded of rich and rare, were lavished upon 
 the princess. She received all as her due, and regarded them 
 with the indifference of one accustomed to magnificence. All 
 kinds of spectacles and festivities were devised for her enter 
 tainment; minstrelsy, dancing, tournaments, bull-fights. 
 Granada, for a time, was a scene of perpetual pageant. The 
 Gothic princess seemed to take a delight in causing expense, 
 as if she sought to drain the treasures of the monarch. There 
 were no bounds to her caprice, or to the extravagance of her 
 ideas. Yet, notwithstanding all this munificence, the vener 
 able Aben Habuz could not flatter himself that he had made 
 any impression on her heart. She never frowned on him, it is 
 true, but she had a singular way of baffling his tender ad 
 vances. \7henever he began to plead his passion, she struck 
 her silver lyre. There was a mystic charm in the sound : on 
 hearing of it, an irresistible drowsiness seized upon the super 
 annuated lover, he fell asleep, and only woke when the tempo 
 rary fumes of passion had evaporated. Still the dream of love 
 had a bewitching power over his senses ; so he continued to 
 dream on ; while all Granada scoffed at his infatuation, and 
 groaned at the treasures lavished for a song. 
 
84 THE ALHAhXRA. 
 
 At length a danger burst over the head of Aben Habuz, 
 against which his talisman yielded him no warning. A re 
 bellion broke out in the very heart of his capital, headed by 
 the bold Rodovan. Aben Habuz was, for a time, besieged in 
 his palace, and it was not without the greatest difficulty that 
 he repelled his assailants and quelled the insurrection. 
 
 He now felt himself compelled once more to resort to the 
 assistance of the astrologer. He found him still shut up in his 
 hermitage, chewing the cud of resentment. "O wise son o 2 
 Abu Ayub," said he, "what thou hast foretold, has, in some 
 sort, oome to pass. This Gothic princess has brought trouble 
 and danger upon me." 
 
 " Is the king then disposed to put her away from him?" said 
 the astrologer with animation. 
 
 "Sooner would I part with my kingdom!" replied Aben 
 Habuz. 
 
 " What then is the need of disturbing me in my philosoph 
 ical retirement?" said the astrologer, peevishly. 
 
 Be not an^ry, O sagest of philosophers. I would fain have 
 one more exertion of thy magic art. Devise some means by 
 which I may be secure from internal treason, as well as out 
 ward war some safe retreat, where I may take refuge and be 
 at peace." 
 
 The astrologer ruminated for a moment, and a subtle gleam 
 shone from his eye under his busy eyebrows. 
 
 "Thou hast heard, no doubt, O king," said he, "of the 
 palace and garden of Irem, whereof mention is made in that 
 chapter of the Koran entitled the dawn of day. " 
 
 "I have heard of that garden, marvellous things are 
 related of it by the pilgrims who visit Mecca, but I have 
 thought them wild fables, such as those are prone to tell who 
 visit remote regions." 
 
 Listen, O king, and thou shalt know the mystery of that 
 garden. In my younger days I was in Arabia the Happy, 
 tending my father s camels. One of them strayed away from 
 the rest, and was lost. I searched for it for several days about 
 the deserts of Aden, until wearied and faint, I laid myself 
 down and slept under a palm tree by the side of a scanty well. 
 When I awoke, I found myself at the gate of a city. I entered 
 and beheld noble streets and squares and market places, but 
 all were silent and without an inhabitant. I wandered on 
 until I came to a sumptuous palace, with a garden adorned 
 with fountains and fish-ponds; and groves and flowers; and 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 5 
 
 orchards laden with delicious fruit; but still no one was to be 
 seen. TTnon which, appalled at this loneliness, I hastened to 
 depart, and, after issuing forth at the gate of the city, I turned 
 to look upon the place, but it was no longer to be seen, nothing 
 but the silent desert extended before my eyes. 
 
 In the neighbourhood I met with an aged dervise, learned 
 in the traditions and secrets of the land, and related to him 
 what had befallen me. This, said he, is the far-famed gar 
 den of Irem, one of the wonders of the desert. It only appears 
 at times to some wanderer like thyself, gladdening him with 
 the sight of towers and palaces, and garden walls overhung 
 with richly laden fruit trees, and then vanishes, leaving 
 nothing but a lonely desert. And this is the story of it: In 
 old times, when this country was inhabited by the Addiles, 
 king Sheddad, the son of Ad, the great grandson of Noah, 
 founded here a splendid city. When it was finished, and he 
 saw its grandeur, his heart was puffed up with pride and arro 
 gance, and he determined to build a royal palace, with gardens 
 that should rival all that was related in the Koran of the celes 
 tial paradise. But the Curse of heaven fell upon him for his 
 presumption. He and his subjects were swept from the earth, 
 and his splendid city, and palace, and garden, were laid under 
 a perpetual spell, that hides them from the human sight, ex 
 cepting that they are seen at intervals ; by way of keeping his 
 sin in perpetual remembrance. 
 
 "This story, O king, and the wonders I had seen, ever dwell 
 in my mind, and, in after years, when I had been in Egypt 
 and made myself master of all kinds of magic spells, I deter 
 mined to return and visit the garden of Irem. I did so, and 
 found it revealed to my instructed sight. I took possession of 
 the palace of Sheddad, and passed several days in his mock 
 paradise. The genii who watch over the place, were obedient 
 to my magic power, and revealed to me the spells by which 
 the whole garden had been, as it were, conjured into existence, 
 and by which it was rendered invisible. Such spells, king, 
 are within the scope of my art. What sayest thou? Wouldst 
 them have a palace and garden like those of Irem, filled with 
 all manner of delights, but hidden from the eyes of mortals?" 
 
 " O wise son of Abu Ayub," exclaimed Aben Habuz, trem 
 bling with eagerness " Contrive me such a paradise, and ask 
 any reward, even to the half of my kingdom." 
 
 "Alas," replied the other, " thou knowest I am an old man, 
 and a philosopher, and easily satisfied ; all the reward I ask, is 
 
86 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 the first beast of burden, with its load, that shall enter the 
 magic portal of the palace." 
 
 The monarch gladly agreed to so moderate a stipulation, and 
 the astrologer began his work. On the summit of the hill im 
 mediately above his subterranean hermitage he caused a great 
 gateway or barbican to be erected ; opening through the centre 
 of a strong tower. There was an outer vestibule or porch with 
 a lofty arch, and within it a portal secured by massive gates. 
 On the key-stone of the portal the astrologer, with his own 
 hand, wrought the figure of a huge key, and on the key-stone 
 of the outer arch of the vestibule, which was loftier than that 
 of the portal, he carved a gigantic hand. These were potent 
 talismans, over which he repeated many sentences in an un 
 known tongue. 
 
 When this gateway was finished, he shut himself up for two 
 days in his astrological hall, engaged in secret incantations; 
 on the third he ascended the hill, and passed the whole day on 
 its summit. At a late hour of the night, he came down and 
 presented himself before Aben Habuz. u At length, O king," 
 said he, my labour is accomplished. On the summit of the 
 hill stands one of the most delectable palaces that ever the 
 head of man devised, or the heart of man desired. It contains 
 sumptuous halls and galleries, delicious gardens, cool fountains 
 and fragrant baths; in a word, the whole mountain is con 
 verted into a paradise. Like the garden of Irem, it is pro 
 tected by a mighty charm, which hides it from the view and 
 search of mortals, excepting such as possess the secret of its 
 talismans. " 
 
 "Enough," cried Aben Habuz, joyfully; " to-morrow morn 
 ing, bright and early, we will ascend and take possession." 
 The happy monarch scarcely slept that night. Scarcely had 
 the rays of the sun begun to play about the snowy summit of 
 the Sierra Nevada, when he mounted his steed, and accom 
 panied only by a few chosen attendants, ascended a steep and 
 narrow road leading up the hill. Beside him on a white pal 
 frey, rode the Gothic princess, her dress sparkling with jewels, 
 while round her neck was suspended her silver lyre. The 
 astrologer walked on the other side of the king, assisting his 
 steps with his hieroglyphic staff, for he never mounted steed of 
 any kind. 
 
 Aben Habuz looked to see the towers of the promised palace 
 brightening above him, and the embowered terraces of its gar 
 dens stretching along the heights, but as yet, nothing p* the 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 87 
 
 land was to be descried. " That is the mystery and safeguard 
 of the place," said the astrologer, "nothing can be discerned 
 until you have passed the spell-bound gateway, and been put 
 in possession of the place. 
 
 As they approached the gateway, the astrologer paused, and 
 pointed out to the king the mystic hand and key carved upon 
 the portal and the arch. These, " said he, are the talismans 
 which guard the entrance to this paradise. Until yonder hand 
 shall reach down and seize that key, neither mortal power, nor 
 magic artifice, can prevail against the lord of this mountain." 
 
 While Aben Habuz was gazing with open mouth and silent- 
 wonder at these mystic talismans, the palfrey of the princess 
 proceeded on, and bore her in at the portal, to the very centre 
 of the barbican. 
 
 "Behold," cried the astrologer, " my promised reward! -the 
 first animal with its burden, that should enter the magic gate 
 way." 
 
 Aben Habuz smiled at what he considered a pleasantry of 
 the ancient man ; but when he found him to be in earnest, his 
 gray beard trembled with indignation. 
 
 "Son of Abu Ayub," said he, sternly, " what equivocation is 
 this? Thou knowest the meaning of my promise, the first 
 beast of burden, with its load, that should enter this portal. 
 Take the strongest mule in my stables, load it with the most 
 precious things of my treasury, and it is thine ; but dare not to 
 raise thy thoughts to her, who is the delight of my heart." 
 
 "What need I of wealth," cried the astrologer, scornfully: 
 "have I not the book of knowledge of Solomon the Wise, 
 and through it, the command of the secret treasures of the 
 earth? The princess is mine by right; thy royal word is 
 pledged ; I claim her as my own." 
 
 The princess sat upon her palfrey, in the pride of youth 
 and beauty, and a light smile of scorn curled her rosy lip, at 
 this dispute between two gray beards for her charms. The 
 wrath of the monarch got the better of his discretion. "Base 
 son of the desert," cried he, " thou mayest be master of many 
 arts, but know me for thy master and presume not to juggle 
 witli Miy king." 
 
 " My master !" echoed the astrologer, my ting ! The mon 
 arch of a mole-hill to claim sway over him who possesses the 
 talismans of Solomon. Farewell, Aben Habuz; reign over thy 
 petty kingdom, and revel in thy paradise of fools for me, I 
 will laugh at thee in my philosophic retirement." 
 
88 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 So saying, he seized the bridle of the palfrey, smote the 
 earth with his staff, and sank with the Gothic princess through 
 the centre of the barbican. The earth closed over them, and 
 no trace remained of the opening by which they had descended. 
 Aben Habuz was struck dumb for a time with astonishment. 
 Recovering himself he ordered a thousand workmen to dig 
 with pickaxe and spade into the ground where the astrologer 
 had di appeared. They digged and digged, but in vain; the 
 flinty bosom of the hill resisted their implements ; or if they 
 did penetrate a little way, the earth filled in again as fast as 
 they threw it out. Aben Habuz sought the mouth of the cav 
 ern at the foot of the hill, leading to the subterranean palace 
 of the astrologer, but it was no where to be found : where once 
 had been an entrance, was now a solid surface of primeval 
 rock. With the disappearance of Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub 
 ceased the benefit of his talismans. The bronze horseman re 
 mained fixed with his face turned toward the hill, and his spear 
 pointed to the spot where the astrologer had descended, as 
 if there still lurked the deadliest foe of Aben Habuz. From 
 time to time the sound of music and the tones of a female voice 
 could be faintly heard from the bosom of the hill, and a peasant 
 one day brought word to the king, that in the preceding night 
 he had found a fissure in the rock, by which he had crept in 
 until he looked down into a subterranean hall, in which sat 
 the astrologer on a magnificent divan, slumbering and nodding 
 to the silver lyre of the princess, which seemed to hold a magic 
 sway over his senses. 
 
 Aben Habuz sought tor the fissure in the rock, but it was 
 again closed. He renewed the attempt to unearth his rival, 
 bwt all in vain. The spell of the hand and key was too potent 
 to be counteracted by human power. As to the summit of the 
 mountain, the site of the promised palace and garden, it re- 
 mained a naked waste : either the boasted Elysium was hidden 
 from sight by enchantment, or was a mere fable of the astrolo 
 ger. The world charitably supposed the latter, and some used 
 to call the place "the king s folly," while others named it " the 
 fool s Paradise." 
 
 To add to the chagrin of Aben Habuz, the neighbours, whom 
 he had defied ana taunted, and cut up at his leisure, while 
 master of the talismanic horeeman, finding him no longer pro 
 tected by magic spell, made inroads into his territories from 
 all sides, and the remainder of the life of the most pacific of 
 monarchs, was a tissue of turmoils 
 
LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 8 ( J 
 
 At length, Aben Habuz died and was buried. Ages have 
 since rolled away. The Alhambra has been built on the event 
 ful mountain, and in some measure realizes the fabled delights 
 of the garden of Irem. The spell-bound gateway still exists, 
 protected, no doubt, by the mystic hand and key, and now 
 forms the gate of justice, the grand entrance to the fortress. 
 Under that gateway, it is said, the old astrologer remains in 
 his subterranean hall ; nodding on his divan, lulled by the sil 
 VQY lyre of the princess. 
 
 The old invalid sentinels, who mount guard at the gate, hear 
 the strains occasionally in the summer nights, and, yielding to 
 their soporific power, doze quietly at their posts. Nay, so 
 drowsy an influence pervades the place, that even those who 
 watch by day, may generally be seen nodding on the stone 
 benches of the barbican, or sleeping under the neighbouring 
 trees ; so that it is, in fact, the drowsiest military post in all 
 Christendom. All this, say the legends, will endure; from 
 age to age the princess will remain captive to the astrologer, 
 and the astrologer bound up in magic slumber by the princess, 
 until the last day ; unless the mystic hand shall grasp the fated 
 key, and dispel the whole charm of this enchanted mountain. 
 
 LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 
 
 IN old times there reigned a Moorish king in Granada, whose 
 name was Mohamed, to which his subjects added the appella 
 tion of el Haygari, or " the left-handed." Some say he was so 
 called, on account of his being really more expert with his sin 
 ister, than his dexter hand; others, because he was prone to 
 take everything by the wrong end ; or, in other words, to mar 
 wherever he meddled. Certain it is, either through misfortune 
 or mismanagement, he was continually in trouble. Thrice was 
 he driven from his throne, and on one occasion barely escaped 
 to Africa with his life, in the disguise of a fisherman. Still he 
 was as brave as he was blundering, and, though left-handed, 
 wielded his scimitar to such purpose, that he each time re 
 established himself upon his throne, by dint of hard fighting. 
 Instead, however, of learning wisdom from adversity, he 
 hardened his neck, and stiffened his left-arm in wilfulness. 
 The evils of a public nature which he thus brought upon him 
 
90 THE ALIIAMBRA. 
 
 self and his kingdom, may be learned by those who will delve 
 into the Arabian annals of Granada; the present legend deals 
 but with his domestic policy. 
 
 As this Mohamed was one day riding forth, with a train of 
 his courtiers, by the foot of the mountain of Elvira, he met a 
 band of horsemen returning from a foray into the land of the 
 Christians. They were conducting a long string of mules laden 
 with spoil, and many captives of both sexes, among whom, the 
 monarch was struck with the appearaoce of a beautiful damsel 
 richly attired, who sat weeping, on a low palfrey, and heeded 
 not the consoling words of a duenna, who rode beside her. 
 
 The monarch was struck with her beauty, and on inquiring 
 of the captain of the troop, found that she was the daughter of 
 the alcayde of a frontier fortress that had been surprised and 
 sacked in the course of the foray. 
 
 Mohamed claimed her as his royal share of the booty, and 
 had her conveyed to his harem in the Alhambra. There every 
 thing was devised to soothe her melancholy, and the monarch, 
 more and more enamoured, sought to make her his queen. 
 
 The Spanish maid at first repulsed his addresses. He was 
 an infidel he jwas the open foe of her country what was 
 worse, he was stricken in years ! 
 
 The monarch finding his assiduities of no avail, determined 
 to enlist in his favour the duenna, who had been captured with 
 the lady. She was an Andalusian by birth, whose Christian 
 name is forgotten, being mentioned in Moorish legends, by no 
 other appellation than that of the discreet Cadiga and dis 
 creet, in truth she was, as her whole history makes evident. 
 No sooner had the Moorish king held a little private conversa 
 tion with her, than she saw at once the cogency of his reason 
 ing, and undertook his cause with her young mistress. 
 
 " Go to, now !" cried she ; " what is there in all this to weep 
 and wail about? Is it not better to be mistress of this beautiful 
 palace with all its gardens and fountains, than to be shut up 
 within your father s old frontier tower? As to this Mohamed 
 being an infidel what is that to the purpose? You marry him 
 not his religion. And if he is waxing a little old, the sooner 
 will you be a widow and mistress of yourself. At any rate you 
 are in his power and must either be a queen or a slave. 
 When in the hands of a robber, it is better to sell one s mer- 
 chandies for a fair price, than to have it taken by main force. " 
 
 The arguments of the discreet Cadiga prevailed. The Span 
 ish lady dried her tears and became the spouse of Mohamed 
 
LEGEND OP THE TIIEEK BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 91 
 
 the left-handed. She even conformed in appearance to the 
 faith of her royal husband, and her discreet duenna immedi 
 ately became a zealous convert to the Moslem doctrines; it 
 was then the latter received the Arabian name of Cadiga, and 
 was permitted to remain in the confidential employ of her 
 mistress. 
 
 In due process of time, the Moorish king was made the 
 proud and happy father of three lovely daughters, all born at 
 a birth. He could have wished they had been sons, but con 
 soled himself with the idea that three daughters at a birth, 
 were pretty well for a man somewhat stricken in years, and 
 left-handed. 
 
 As usual with all Moslem monarchs, he summoned his 
 astrologers on this happy event. They cast the nativities of 
 the three princesses, and shook their heads. "Daughters, 
 O king," said they, "are always precarious property; but 
 these will most need your watchfulness when they arrive at a 
 marriageable age. At that time gather them under your 
 wing, and trust them to no other guardianship." 
 
 Mohamed the left-handed was acknowledged by his courtiers 
 to be a wise king, and was certainly so considered by himself. 
 The prediction of the astrologers caused him but little disquiet, 
 trusting to his ingenuity to guard his daughters and outwit 
 the fates. 
 
 The threefold birth was the last matrimonial trophy of the 
 monarch; his queen bore him no more children, and died 
 within a few years, bequeathing her infant daughters to his 
 love, and to the fidelity of the discreet Cadiga. 
 
 Many years had yet to elapse before the princesses would 
 arrive at that period of danger, the marriageable age. "It is 
 good, however, to be cautious in time," said the shrewd mon 
 arch; so he determined to have them reared in the royal castle 
 of Salobreiia. This was a sumptuous palace, incrusted as it 
 were in a powerful Moorish fortress, on the summit of a hill 
 that overlooks the Mediterranean sea. 
 
 It was a royal retreat, in which the Moslem monarchs shut 
 up such of their relations as might endanger their safety; 
 allowing them all kinds of luxuries and amusements, in the 
 midst of which they passed their lives in voluptuous indolence. 
 
 Here the princesses remained, immured from the world, but 
 surrounded by enjoyments; and attended by female slaves 
 who anticipated their wishes. They had delightful gardens 
 for their recreation, filled with the rarest fruits and flowers, 
 
92 THE ALIIAMBRA. 
 
 with aromatic groves and perfumed baths. On three sides the 
 castle looked down upon a rich valley, enamelled with all 
 kinds of culture, and bounded by the lofty Alpuxarra moun 
 tains ; on the other side it overlooked the broad sunny sea. 
 
 In this delicious abode, in a propitious climate and under 
 a cloudless sky, the three princesses grew up into wondrous 
 beauty; but, though all reared alike, they gave early tokens 
 of diversity of character. Their names were Zayda, Zorayda, 
 and Zorahayda; and such was the order of seniority, for there 
 had been precisely three minutes between their births. 
 
 Zayda, the eldest, was of an intrepid spirit, and took the 
 lead of her sisters in every thing, as she had done in entering 
 first into the world. She was curious and inquisitive, and 
 fond of getting at the bottom of things. 
 
 Zorayda had a great feeling for beauty, which was the 
 reason, no doubt, of her delighting to regard her own image 
 in a mirror or a fountain, and of her fondness for flowers and 
 jewels, and other tasteful ornaments. 
 
 As to Zorahayda, the youngest, she was soft and timid, and 
 extremely sensitive, with a vast deal of disposable tenderness, 
 as was evident from her number of pet flowers, and pet birds, 
 and pet animals, all of which she cherished with the fondest 
 care. Her amusements, too, were of a gentle nature, and 
 mixed up with musing and reverie. She would sit for hours 
 in a balcony gazing on the , sparkling stars of a summer night; 
 or on the sea when lit up by the moon, and at such times the 
 song of a fisherman faintly heard from the beach, or the notes 
 of an arrafia or Moorish flute from some gliding bark, sufficed 
 to elevate her feelings into ecstasy. The least uproar of the 
 elements, however, filled her with dismay, and a clap of thun 
 der was enough to throw her into a swoon. 
 
 Years moved on serenely, and Cadiga, to whom the prin 
 cesses were confided, was faithful to her trust and attended 
 them with unremitting care. 
 
 The castle of Salobrena, as has been said, was built upon a 
 hill on the sea coast. One of the exterior walls straggled down 
 the profile of the hill, until it reached a jutting rock overhang 
 ing the sea, with a narrow sandy beach at its foot, laved by 
 the rippling billows. A small watch tower on this rock had 
 been fitted up as a pavilion, with latticed windows to admit 
 the sea breeze. Here the princesses used to pass the sultry 
 hours of mid-day. 
 
 The curious Zayda was one day seated at one of the windows 
 
LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 93 
 
 of the pavilion, as her sisters, reclined on ottomans, were tak 
 ing the siesta, or noon-tide slumber. Her attention had been 
 attracted to a galley, which came coasting along, with meas 
 ured strokes of the oar. As it drew near, she observed that it 
 was filled with armed men. The galley anchored at the foot 
 of the tower : a number of Moorish soldiers landed on the nar 
 row beach, conducting several Christian prisoners. The curi 
 ous Zayda awakened her sisters, and all three peeped cau 
 tiously through the close jalousies of the lattice, which 
 screened them from sight. Among the prisoners were three 
 Spanish cavaliers, richly dressed. They were in the flower of 
 youth, and of noble presence, and the lofty manner in which 
 they carried themselves, though loaded with chains and sur 
 rounded with enemies, bespoke the grandeur of their souls. 
 The princesses gazed with intense and breathless interest. 
 Cooped up as they had been in this castle among female at 
 tendants, seeing nothing of the male sex but black slaves, or 
 the rude fishermen of the sea coast, it is not to be wondered 
 at, that the appearance of three gallant cavaliers in the pride 
 of youth and manly beauty should produce some commotion 
 in their bosoms. 
 
 " Did ever nobler being tread the earth, than that cavalier in 
 crimson?" cried Zayda, the eldest of the sisters. "See how 
 proudly he bears himself, as though all around him were hir 
 slaves !" 
 
 "But notice that one in green," exclaimed Zorayda; "what 
 grace ! what elegance ! what spirit !" 
 
 The gentle Zorahayda said nothing, but she secretly gave 
 preference to the cavalier in green. 
 
 The princesses remained gazing until the prisoners were out 
 of sight; then heaving long-drawn sighs, they turned round, 
 looked at each other for a moment, and sat down musing and 
 pensive on their ottomans. 
 
 The discreet Cadiga found them in this situation; they re 
 lated to her what they had seen, and even the withered heart 
 of the duenna was warmed. "Poor youths!" exclaimed she, 
 "111 warrant their captivity makes many a fair and high-born 
 lady s heart ache in their native land ! Ah, my children, you 
 have little idea of the life these cavaliers lead in their own 
 country. Such prankling at tournaments! such devotion to 
 the ladies ! such courting and serenading !" 
 
 The curiosity of Zayda was fully aroused. She was in- 
 satiable in her inquiries, and drew from the duenna the most 
 
94 TEE ALUANBEA. 
 
 animated pictures of the scenes of her youthful days and 
 native land. The beautiful Zorayda bridled up, and slyly re 
 garded herself in a mirror, when the theme turned upon the 
 charms of the Spanish ladies ; while Zorahayda suppressed a 
 struggling sigh at the mention of moonlight serenades. 
 
 Every day the curious Zayda renewed her inquiries; and 
 every day the sage duenna repeated her stories, which were 
 listened to with unmoved interest, though frequent sighs, by 
 her gentle auditors. The discreet old woman at length awak 
 ened to the mischief she might be doing. She had been ac 
 customed to think of the princesses only as children, but they 
 had imperceptibly ripened beneath her eye, and now bloomed 
 before her three lovely damsels of the marriageable age. It is 
 time, thought the duenna, to give notice to the king. 
 
 Mohamed the left-handed was seated one morning on a 
 divan in one of the court halls of the Alhambra, when a noble 
 arrived from the fortress of Salobrena, with a message from 
 the sage Cadiga, congratulating him on the anniversary of his 
 daughters birth-day. The slave at the same time presented a 
 delicate little basket decorated with flowers, within which, on 
 a couch of vine and fig leaves, lay a peach, an apricot, and a 
 nectarine, with their bloom and down, and dewy sweetness 
 upon them, and all in the early stage of tempting ripeness. 
 The monarch was versed in the oriental language of fruits and 
 flowers, and readily divined the meaning of this emblematical 
 offering. 
 
 "So," said he, "the critical period pointed out by the as 
 trologers is arrived. My daughters are at a marriageable age. 
 What is to be done? They are shut up from the eyes of men, 
 they are under the eye of the discreet Cadiga all very good 
 but still they are not under my own eye, as was prescribed by 
 the astrologers. I must gather them under my wing, and 
 trust to no other guardianship. " 
 
 So saying, he ordered that a tower of the Alhambra should 
 be prepared for their reception, and departed at the head of 
 his guards for the fortress of Salobrefia, to conduct them home 
 in person. 
 
 About three years had elapsed since Mohamed had beheld 
 his daughters, and he could scarcely credit his eyes at the 
 wonderful change which that small space of time had made in 
 their appearance. During the interval they had passed that 
 wondrous boundary line in female life, which separates the 
 crude, unformed, and thoughtless girl from the blooming, 
 
LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 95 
 
 blushing, meditative woman. It is like passing from the flat, 
 bleak, uninteresting plains of La Mancha to the voluptuous 
 valleys and swelling hills of Andalusia. 
 
 Zayda was tall and finely formed, with a lofty demeanour 
 and a penetrating eye. She entered with a stately and decided 
 step, and made a profound reverence to Mohamed, treating 
 him more as her sovereign than her father. Zorayda was of 
 the middle height, with an alluring look and swimming gait, 
 and a sparkling beauty heightened by the assistance of the 
 toilette. She approached her father with a smile, kissed his 
 hand, and saluted him with several stanzas from a popular 
 Arabian poet, with which the monarch was delighted. Zora- 
 hayda was shy and timid ; smaller than her sisters, and with 
 a beauty of that tender, beseeching kind which looks for fond 
 ness and protection. She was little fitted to command like 
 her elder sister, or to dazzle like the second ; but was rather 
 formed to creep to the bosom of manly affection, to nestle 
 within it, and be content. She drew near her father with a 
 timid and almost faltering step, and would have taken his 
 hand to kiss, but on looking up into his face, and seeing it 
 beaming with a paternal smile, the tenderness of her nature 
 broke forth, and she threw herself upon his neck. 
 
 Mohamed, the left-handed, surveyed his blooming daughters 
 with mingled pride and perplexity; for while he exulted in 
 their charms, he bethought himself of the prediction of the 
 astrologers. "Three daughters! three daughters !" muttered 
 he, repeatedly to himself, "and all of a marriageable age! 
 Here s tempting hesperian fruit, that requires a dragon watch !" 
 
 He prepared for his return to Granada, by sending heralds 
 before him, commanding every one to keep out of the road by 
 which he was to pass, and that all doors and windows should 
 be closed at the approach of the princesses. This done, he set 
 forth escorted by a troop of black horsemen of hideous aspect, 
 and clad hi shining armour. 
 
 The princesses rode beside the king, closely veiled, on beauti 
 ful white palfreys, with velvet caparisons embroidered with 
 gold, and sweeping the ground ; the bits and stirrups were of 
 gold, and the silken bridles adorned with pearls and precious 
 stones. The palfreys were covered with little silver bells that 
 made the most musical tinkling as they ambled gently along. 
 Wo to the unlucky wight, however, who lingered in the way 
 when he heard the tinkling of these bells the guards were or 
 dered to cut him down without mercy. 
 
96 THE ALIIAMBRA. 
 
 The cavalcade was drawing near to Granada, when it over* 
 took, on the banks of the river Xenil, a small body of Moorish 
 soldiers, with a convoy of prisoners. It was too late for the 
 soldiers to get out of the way, so they threw themselves on 
 their faces on the earth, ordering their captives to do the like. 
 Among the prisoners, were the three identical cavaliers whom 
 the princesses had seen from the pavilion. They either did 
 not understand, or were too haughty to obey the order, and 
 remained standing and gazing upon the cavalcade as it ap 
 proached. 
 
 The ire of the monarch was kindled at this flagrant defiance 
 of his orders, and he determined to punish it with his own 
 hand. Drawing his scimitar and pressing forward, he was 
 about to deal a left-handed blow, that would have been fatal 
 to at least one of the gazers, when the princesses crowded 
 round him, and implored mercy for the prisoners ; even the 
 timid Zorahayda forgot her shyness and became eloquent in 
 their behalf. Mohamed paused, with uplifted scimitar, when 
 the captain of the guard threw himself at his feet. "Let not 
 your majesty," said he, "do a deed that may cause great 
 scandal throughout the kingdom. These are three brave and 
 noble Spanish knights who have been taken in battle, fighting 
 like lions ; they are of high birth, and may bring great ran 
 soms." 
 
 "Enough," said the king; "I will spare their lives, but 
 punish their audacity let them be taken to the Vermilion 
 towers and put to hard labour." 
 
 Mohamed was making one of his usual left-handed blunders. 
 In the tumult and agitation of this blustering scene, the veils 
 of the three princesses had been thrown back, and the radi 
 ance of their beauty revealed ; and in prolonging the parley, 
 the king had given that beauty time to have its full effect. 
 In those days, people fell in love much more suddenly than 
 at present, as all ancient stories make manifest; it is not 
 a matter of wonder, therefore, that the hearts of the three 
 cavaliers were completely captivated; especially as grati 
 tude was added to their admiration: it is a little singular, 
 however, though no less certain, that each of them was 
 enraptured with a several beauty. As to the princesses, 
 they were more than ever struck with the noble demeanour 
 of the captives, and cherished in their hearts all that they 
 had heard of their valour and noble lineage. 
 
 The cavalcade resumed its march; the three princesses 
 
LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 97 
 
 rode pensively along on their tinkling palfreys, now and 
 then stealing a glance behind in search of the Christian 
 captives, and the latter were conducted to their allotted 
 prison in the Vermilion towers. 
 
 . The residence provided for the princesses, was one of the 
 most dainty that fancy could devise. It was in a tower 
 somewhat apart from the main palace of the Alhambra, 
 though connected with it by the main wall that encircled 
 the whole summit of the hill. On one side it looked into 
 the interior of the fortress, and had at its foot a small gar 
 den filled with the rarest flowers. On the other side it over 
 looked a deep embowered ravine, that separated the grounds 
 of the Alhambra from those of the Generaliffe. The interior 
 of the tower was divided into small fairy apartments, beauti 
 fully ornamented in the light Arabian style, surrounding a 
 lofty hall, the vaulted roof of which rose almost to the summit 
 of the tower. The walls and ceiling of the hall were adorned 
 with arabesques and fret- work sparkling with gold, and with 
 brilliant pencilling. In the centre of the marble pavement, 
 was an alabaster fountain, set round with aromatic shrubs 
 and flowers, and throwing up a jet of water that cooled the 
 whole edifice and had a lulling sound. Round the hall were 
 suspended cages of gold and silver wire, containing singing 
 birds of the finest plumage or sweetest note. 
 
 The princesses having beeii represented as always cheerful 
 when in the castle of Salobrena, the king had expected to 
 see them enraptured with the Alhambra. To his surprise, 
 however, they began to pine, and grew green and melancholy, 
 and dissatisfied with every thing around them. The flowers 
 yielded them no fragrance; the song of the nightingale dis 
 turbed their night s rest, and they were out of all patience 
 with the alabaster fountain, with its eternal drop, drop, and 
 splash, splash, from morning till night, and from night till 
 morning. 
 
 The king, who was somewhat of a testy, tyrannical old man, 
 took this at first in high dudgeon; but he reflected that hi* 
 daughters had arrived at an age when the female mind 
 expands and its desires augment. "They are no longo 
 children," said he to himself; "they are women &TOWII, and 
 require suitable objects to interest them." He put in requisi 
 tion, therefore, all the dress makers, and the jewellers, and 
 the artificers in gold and silver throughout the Zacatin of 
 Granada* and the princesses were overwhelmed with robes 
 
98 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 of silk, and of tissue and of brocade, and cachemire shawls, 
 and necklaces of pearls, and diamonds, and rings, and brace 
 lets, and anklets, and all manner of precious things. 
 
 All, however, was of no avail. The princesses continued 
 pale and languid in the midst of their finery, and looked like 
 three blighted rose buds, drooping from one stalk. The king 
 was at his wit s end. He had in general a laudable confidence 
 in his own judgment, and never took advice. "The whims 
 and caprices of three marriageable damsels, however, are 
 sufficient," said he, "to puzzle the shrewdest head." So, for 
 once in his life, he called in the aid of counsel. 
 
 The person to whom he applied was the experienced duenna. 
 
 Cadiga, " said the king, I know you to be one of the most 
 discreet women in the whole world, as well as one of the most 
 trustworthy ; for these reasons, I have always continued you 
 about the persons of my daughters. Fathers cannot be too 
 wary in whom they repose such confidence. I now wish you 
 to find out the secret malady that is preying upon the prin 
 cesses, and to devise some means of restoring them to health 
 and cheerfulness." 
 
 Cadiga promised implicit obedience. In fact, she knew 
 more of the malady of the princesses than they did them 
 selves. Shutting herself up with them, however, she endea 
 voured to insinuate herself into their confidence. 
 
 My dear children, what is the reason you are so dismal 
 and downcast, in so beautiful a place, where you have every 
 thing that heart can wish?" 
 
 The princesses looked vacantly round the apartment, and 
 sighed. 
 
 What more, then, would you have ? Shall I get you the 
 wonderful parrot that talks all languages, and is the delight of 
 Granada?" 
 
 Odious !" exclaimed the princess Zayda. l A horrid scream 
 ing bird that chatters words without ideas! One must be 
 without brains to tolerate such a pest." 
 
 "Shall I send for a monkey from the rock of Gibraltar, to 
 divert you with his antics?" 
 
 "A monkey! faugh!" cried Zorayda, "the detestable mimic 
 of man. I hate the nauseous animal." 
 
 "What say you to the famous black singer, Casern, from 
 the royal harem in Morocco. They say he has a voice as fine 
 as a woman s." 
 
 "I am terrified at the sight of these black slaves," said the 
 
LEO END OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 99 
 
 delicate Zorahayda; "besides, I have lost all relish for 
 music." 
 
 "Ah, my child, you would not say so," replied the old 
 woman, slyly, "had you heard the* music I heard last even 
 ing, from the three Spanish cavaliers whom we met on our 
 journey. But bless me, children! what is the matter that 
 you blush so, and are in such a nutter ?" 
 
 "Nothing, nothing, good mother, pray proceed." 
 
 "Well as I was passing by the Vermilion towers, last 
 evening, I saw the three cavaliers resting after their day s 
 labour. One was playing on the guitar so gracefully, and 
 the others sang by turns and they did it in such style, that 
 the very guards seemed like statues or men enchanted. Allah 
 forgive me, I could not help being moved at hearing the songs 
 of my native country. And then to see three such noble and 
 handsome youths in chains and slavery." 
 
 Here the kind-hearted old woman could not restrain her tears. 
 
 " Perhaps, mother, you could manage to procure us a sight 
 of these cavaliers," said Zayda. 
 
 "I think," said Zorayda, "a little music would be quite 
 reviving." 
 
 The timid Zorahayda said nothing, but threw her arms 
 round the neck of Cadiga. 
 
 " Mercy on me !" exclaimed the discreet old woman ; "what 
 are you talking of, my children ? Your father would be the 
 death of us all, if he heard of such a thing. To be sure, these 
 cavaliers are evidently well-bred and high-minded youths but 
 what of that ! they are the enemies of our faith, and you must 
 not even think of them, but with abhorrence." 
 
 There is an admirable intrepidity in the female will, particu 
 larly about the marriageable age, which is not to be deterred 
 by dangers and prohibitions. The princesses hung round their 
 old duenna, and coaxed and entreated, and declared that a re 
 fusal would break their hearts. What could she do? She was 
 certainly the most discreet old woman in the whole world, and 
 one of the most faithful servants to the king but was she to 
 see three beautiful princesses break their hearts for the mere 
 tinkling of a guitar? Beside, though she had been so long 
 among the Moors, and changed her faith, in imitation of her 
 mistress, like a trusty follower, yet she was a Spaniard born, 
 and had the lingering^ of Christianity in her heart. So she set 
 about to contrive how the wishes of the princesses might be 
 gratified, 
 
100 THE ALIIAMBRA. 
 
 The Christian captives confined in the Vermilion towers, 
 were under the charge of a big-whiskered, broad-shouldered 
 renegado, called Hussein Baba, who was reported to have a 
 most itching palm. She went to him, privately, and slipping 
 a broad piece of gold into his hand, " Hussein Baba," said she, 
 "my mistresses, the three princesses, who are shut up in the 
 tower, and in sad want of amusement, have heard of the musi 
 cal talents of the three Spanish cavaliers, and are desirous of 
 hearing a specimen of their skill. I am sure you are too kind- 
 hearted to refuse them so innocent a gratification." 
 
 " What, and to have my head set grinning over the gate of 
 my own tower for that would be the reward, if the king 
 should discover it." 
 
 No danger of any thing of the kind ; the affair may be 
 managed so that the whim of the princesses may be gratified, 
 and their father be never the wiser. You know the deep ra 
 vine outside of the walls, that passes immediately below the 
 tower. Put the three Christians to work there, and at the in 
 tervals of their labour let them play and sing, as if for their 
 own recreation. In this way, the princesses will be able to hear 
 them from the windows of the tower, and you may be sure or 
 their paying well for your compliance." 
 
 As the good old woman concluded her harangue, she kindly 
 pressed the rough hand of the renegado, and left within it an 
 other piece of gold. 
 
 Her eloquence was irresistible. The very next day the three 
 cavaliers were put to work in the ravine. During the noon 
 tide heat when their fellow labourers were sleeping in the 
 shade, and the guard nodded drowsily at his post, they seated 
 themselves among the herbage at the foot of the tower, and 
 sang a Spanish roundelay to the accompaniment of the guitar. 
 
 The glen was deep, the tower was high, but their voices rose 
 distinctly in the stillness of the summer noon. The princesses 
 listened from their balcony ; they had been taught the Spanish 
 language by their duenna, and were moved by the tenderness 
 of the song. 
 
 The discreet Cadiga, on the contrary, was terribly shocked. 
 1 Allah preserve us, " cried she, they are singing a love ditty 
 addressed to yourselves, did ever mortal hear of such audac 
 ity? I will run to the slave master and have them soundly 
 bastinadoed." 
 
 * What, bastinado such gallant cavaliers, and for singing so 
 charmingly?" The three beautiful princesses were filled witb 
 
LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 101 
 
 horror at the idea. With all her virtuous indignation, 
 old woman wasopf a placable nature and easily appeased. Be 
 side, the music seemed to have a ben ef-cial: effect/ -upon -hor 
 young mistresses. A rosy bloom had already ooiiao -to their 
 cheeks, and their eyes began to sparkle. She made no further 
 objection, therefore, to the amorous ditty of the cavaliers. 
 
 When it was finished, the princesses remained silent for a 
 time; at length Zorayda took up a lute, and with a sweet, 
 though faint and trembling voice, warbled a little Arabian air, 
 the burden of which was, "The rose is concealed among her 
 leaves, but she listens with delight to the song of the nightin 
 gale." 
 
 From this time forward the cavaliers worked almost daily in 
 the ravine. The considerate Hussein Baba became more and 
 more indulgent, and daily more prone to sleep at his post. 
 For some time a vague intercourse was kept up by popular 
 songs and romances ; which in some measure responded to each 
 other, and breathed the feelings of the parties. By degrees 
 the princesses showed themselves at the balcony, when they 
 could do so without being perceived by the guards. They con 
 versed with the cavaliers also by means of flowers, with the 
 symbolical language of which they were mutually acquainted : 
 the difficulties of their intercourse added to its charms, and 
 strengthened the passion they had so singularly conceived ; for 
 love delights to struggle with difficulties, and thrives the most 
 hardily on the scantiest soil. 
 
 The change effected in the looks and spirits of the princesses 
 by this secret intercourse, surprised and gratified the left- 
 handed king ; but no one was more elated than the discreet 
 Cadiga, who considered it all owing to her able manage 
 ment. 
 
 At length there was an interruption in this telegraphic cor 
 respondence, for several days the cavaliers ceased to make 
 their appearance in the glen. The three beautiful princesses 
 looked out from the tower in vain. In vain they stretched 
 their swan-like necks from the balcony; in vain they sang like 
 captive nightingales in their cage ; nothing was to be seen of 
 their Christian lovers, not a note responded from the groves. 
 The discreet Cadiga sallied forth in quest of intelligence, and 
 soon returned with a face full of trouble. " Ah, my children !" 
 cried she, I saw what all this would come to, but you would 
 have your way ; you may now hang up your lutes on the wil- 
 IQWS, The Spanish cavaliers are ransomed by their familio;; ; 
 
IQ2 Tllh ALUAMBRA. 
 
 they arl, dowia in t^anada, and preparing to return to theii 
 native country:" 
 
 The three -beautiful, princesses were in despair at the tidings. 
 The -fair Za/yda was indignant at the slight put upon them, in 
 being thus deserted without a parting word. Zorayda rung her 
 hands and cried, and looked in the glass, and wiped away her 
 tears, and cried afresh. The gentle Zorahayda leaned over the 
 balcony, and wept in silence, and her tears fell drop by drop, 
 among the flowers of the bank where the faithless cavaliers 
 had so often been seated. 
 
 The discreet Cadiga did all in her power to soothe their sor 
 row. " Take comfort, my children," said she, " this is nothing 
 when you are used to it. This is the way of the world. Ah, 
 when you are as old as I am, you will know how to value these 
 men. I ll warrant these cavaliers have their loves among the 
 Spanish beauties of Cordova and Seville, and will soon be sere 
 nading under their balconies, and thinking no more of the 
 Moorish beauties in the Alhambra. Take comfort, therefore, 
 my children, and drive them from your hearts." 
 
 The comforting words of the discreet Cadiga only redoubled 
 the distress of the princesses, and for two days they continued 
 inconsolable. On the morning of the third, the good old woman 
 entered their apartment all ruffling with indignation. 
 
 "Who would have believed such insolence in mortal man? * 
 exclaimed she, as soon as she could find words to express her 
 self ; but I am rightly served for having connived at this de 
 ception of your worthy father never talk more to me of your 
 Spanish cavaliers." 
 
 "Why, what has happened, good Cadiga?" exclaimed the 
 princesses, in breathless anxiety. 
 
 "What has happened? treason has happened! or what is 
 almost as bad, treason has been proposed and to me the 
 faithfulest of subjects the trustiest of duennas yes, my chil 
 drenthe Spanish cavaliers have dared to tamper \\ith me; 
 that I should persuade you to fly with them to Cordova, and 
 become their wives." 
 
 Here the excellent old woman covered her face with her 
 hands, and gave way to a violent burst of grief and indigna 
 tion. 
 
 The three beautiful princesses turned pale and red, and trenv 
 bled, and looked down ; and cast shy looks at each other, but 
 said nothing : meantime, the old vroman sat rocking backward 
 forward in violent agitation, and now and then breaking 
 
LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 103 
 
 out into exclamations - u That ever I should live to be so in* 
 suited I, the faithfulest of servants!" 
 
 At length the eldest princess, who had most spirit, and always 
 took the lead, approached her, and laying her hand upon her 
 shoulder" Well, mother," said she, " supposing we were will 
 ing to fly with these Christian cavaliers is such a thing pos 
 sible?" 
 
 The good old woman paused suddenly in her grief, and look 
 ing up "Possible!" echoed she, "to be sure it is possible 
 Have not the cavaliers already bribed Hussein Baba, the rene 
 gado captain of the guard, and arranged the whole plan? But 
 then to think of deceiving your father your father, who has 
 placed such confidence in me?" 
 
 Here the worthy old woman gave way to a fresh burst of 
 grief, and began again to rock backwards and forwards, and to 
 wring her hands. 
 
 "But our father has never placed any confidence in us," said 
 the eldest princess; "but has trusted to bolts and bars, and 
 treated us as captives." 
 
 "Why, that is true enough," replied the old woman, again 
 pausing in her grief He has indeed treated you most unrea 
 sonably. Keeping you shut up here to waste your bloom in a 
 moping old tower, like roses left to wither in a flower jar. But 
 then to fly from your native land." 
 
 "And is not the land we fly to, the native land of our mother; 
 where we shall live in freedom? and shall we not each have a 
 youthful husband in exchange for a severe old father?" 
 
 "Why, that again is all very true and your father, I must 
 confess, is rather tyrannical. But what then" relapsing into 
 her grief "would you leave me behind to bear the brunt of 
 his vengeance?" 
 
 " By no means, my good Cadiga. Cannot you fly with us?" 
 
 "Very true, my child, and to tell the truth, when I talked 
 the matter over with Hussein Baba, he promised to take care 
 of me if I would accompany you in your flight : but then, be 
 think you, my children; are you willing to renounce the faith 
 of your father?" 
 
 "The Christian faith was the original faith of our mother," 
 said the eldest princess; "I am ready to embrace it; and so I 
 am sure are my sisters." 
 
 "Right again!" exclaimed the old woman, brightening up. 
 "It was the original faith of your mother; and bitterly did she 
 lament, on hor death-bed, that she had renounced it. I prom- 
 
104 Tim 
 
 ised her then to take care of your souls, and I am rejoiced to 
 see that they are now in a fair way to be saved. Yes, my chil 
 dren; I too was born a Christian and have always been a 
 Christian in my heart ; and am resolved to return to the faith. 
 I have talked on the subject with Hussein Baba, who is a Span 
 iard by birth, and comes from a place not far from my native 
 town. He is equally anxious to see his own country and to be 
 reconciled to the church, and the cavaliers have promised that 
 if we are disposed to become man and wife on returning to our 
 native land, they will provide for us handsomely. " 
 
 In a word, it appeared that this extremely discreet and provi 
 dent old woman had consulted with the cavaliers and the rene- 
 gado, and had concerted the whole plan of escape. The eldest 
 princess immediately assented to it, and her example as usual 
 determined the conduct of her sisters. It is true, the youngest 
 hesitated, for she was gentle and timid of soul, and there was 
 a struggle in her bosom between filial feeling and youthful 
 passion. The latter however, as usual, gained the victory, and 
 with silent tears and stifled sighs she prepared herself for 
 flight. 
 
 The rugged hill on which the Alhambra is built was in old 
 times perforated with subterranean passages, cut through the 
 rock, and leading from the fortress to various parts of the city, 
 and to distant sally-ports on the banks of the Darro and the 
 Xenil. They had been constructed at different times, by the 
 Moorish kings, as means of escape from sudden insurrection, or 
 of secretly issuing forth on private enterprises. Many of them 
 are now entirely lost, while others remain, partly choked up 
 with rubbish, and partly walled up monuments of the jealous 
 precautions and warlike stratagems of the Moorish government. 
 By one of these passages, Hussein Baba had undertaken to 
 conduct the princesses to a sally-port beyond the walls of the 
 city, where the cavaliers were to be ready with fleet steeds to 
 bear them all over the borders. 
 
 The appointed night arrived. The tower of the princesses 
 had been locked up as usual, and the Alhambra was buried in 
 deep sleep. Towards midnight the discreet Cadiga listened 
 from a balcony of a window that looked into the garden. 
 Hussein Baba, the renegado, was already below, and gave the 
 appointed signal. The duenna fastened the end of a ladder of 
 ropes to the balcony, lowered it into the garden, and descended. 
 The two eldest princesses followed her with beating hearts; but 
 when it came to the turn of the youngest prioress. Zorahayda* 
 
LEGEND OP THE THREE BEA UTIFUL PRINCESSES. 1Q5 
 
 she hesitated and trembled. Several times she ventured a deli 
 cate little foot upon the ladder, and as often drew it back; 
 while her poor little heart fluttered more and more the longer 
 she delayed. She cast a wistful look back into the silken cham 
 ber ; she had lived, in it, to be sure, like a bird in a cage, but 
 within it she was secure who could not tell what dangers 
 might beset her should she flutter forth into the wide world? 
 Now she bethought her of her gallant Christian lover, and her 
 little foot was instantly upon the ladder, and anon she thought 
 of her father, and shrunk back. But fruitless is the attempt to 
 describe the conflict in the bosom. of one so young, and tender, 
 and loving, but so timid and so ignorant of the world. In vain 
 her sisters implored, the duenna scolded, and the renegado 
 blasphemed beneath the balcony. The gentle little Moorish 
 maid stood doubting and wavering on the verge of elopement ; 
 tempted by the sweetness of the sin, but terrified at its perils. 
 
 Every moment increased the danger of discovery. A distant 
 tramp was heard. " The patrols are walking the rounds," cried 
 the renegado; "if we linger longer we perish princess, de 
 scend instantly, or we leave you. " 
 
 Zorahayda was for a moment in fearful agitation, then loos 
 ening the ladder of ropes, with desperate resolution she flung 
 it from the balcony. 
 
 "It is decided, " cried she, "flight is now out of my power! 
 Allah guide and bless ye, my dear sisters 1" 
 
 The two eldest princesses were shocked at the thoughts of 
 leaving her behind, and would fain have lingered, but the 
 patrol was advancing; the renegado was furious, and they 
 were hurried away to the subterraneous passage. They groped 
 their way through a fearful labyrinth cut through the heart of 
 the mountain, and succeeded in reaching, undiscovered, an 
 iron gate that opened outside of the walls. The Spanish cav 
 aliers were waiting to receive them, disguised as Moorish sol 
 diers of the guard commanded by the renegado. 
 
 The lover of Zorahayda was frantic when he learned that she 
 had refused to leave the tower; but there was no time to waste 
 in lamentations. The two princesses were placed behind their 
 lovers; the discreet Cadiga mounted behind the renegado, and 
 all set off at a round pace in the direction of the pass of Lope, 
 which leads through the mountains towards Cordova. 
 
 They had not proceeded far when they heard the noise of 
 drums and trumpets from the battlements of the Alhambra. 
 " Our flight is discovered, " said the renegado We have fleet 
 
106 THE ALUAMBRA. 
 
 steeds, the night is dark, and we may distance all pursuit," 
 replied the cavaliers. 
 
 They put spurs to their horses and scoured across the Vega, 
 They attained to the foot of the mountain of Elvira, which 
 stretches like a promontory into the plain. The renegado 
 paused and listened. "As yet," said he, "there is no one on 
 our traces, we shall make good our escape to the mountains." 
 While he spoke a ball of fire sprang up in a light blaze on the 
 top of the watch-tower of the Alhambra. 
 
 " Confusion!" cried the renegado, "that fire will put all the 
 guards of the passes on the alert. Away, away, spur like mad ; 
 there is no time to be lost. " 
 
 Away they dashed the clattering of their horses hoofs 
 echoed from rock to rock as they swept along the road that 
 skirts the rocky mountain of Elvira. As they galloped on, 
 they beheld that the ball of fire of the Alhambra was answered 
 in every direction ; light after light blazed on the atalayas or 
 watch-towers of the mountains. 
 
 "Forward! forward!" cried the renegado, with many an 
 oath "to the bridge! to the bridge! before the alarm has 
 reached there." 
 
 They doubled the promontory of the mountain, and arrived 
 in sight of the famous Puente del Pinos, that crosses a rushing 
 stream often dyed with Christian and Moslem blood. To their 
 confusion the tower on the bridge blazed with lights and glit 
 tered with armed men. The renegado pulled up his steed", rose 
 in his stirrups and looked about him for a moment, then beck 
 oning to the cavaliers he struck off from the road, skirted the 
 river for some distance, and dashed into its waters. The cav 
 aliers called upon the princesses to cling to them, and did the 
 same. They were borne, for some distance down the rapid 
 current, the surges roared round them, but the beautiful prin 
 cesses clung to their Christian knights and never uttered a 
 complaint. The cavaliers attained the opposite bank in safety, 
 and were conducted by the renegado, by rude and unfre 
 quented paths, and wild barrancos through the heart of the 
 mountains, so as to avoid all the regular passes. In a word, 
 they succeeded in reaching the ancient city of Cordova ; when 
 their restoration to their country and friends was celebrated 
 with great rejoicings, for they were of the noblest families. 
 The beautiful princesses were forthwith received into the 
 bosom of the church, and after being in all due form made 
 regular Christians, were rendered happy lovers, 
 
LEGEND OP THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 1Q7 
 
 In our hurry to make good the escape of the princesses 
 across the river and up the mountains, we forgot to mention 
 the fate of the discreet Cadiga. She had clung like a cat to 
 Hussein Baba, in the scamper across the Vega, screaming at 
 every bound and drawing many an oath from the whiskered 
 renegado ; but when he prepared to plunge his steed into the 
 river her terror knew no bounds. 
 
 "Grasp me not so tightly," cried Hussein Baba; "hold on by 
 my belt, and fear nothing." 
 
 She held firmly with both hands by the leathern belt that 
 girded the broad-backed renegado ; but when he halted with 
 the cavaliers to take breath on the mountain summit, the 
 duenna was no longer to be seen. 
 
 "What has become of Cadiga?" cried the princesses in 
 alarm. 
 
 "I know not," replied the renegado. "My belt came loose 
 in the midst of the river, and Cadiga was swept with it down 
 the stream. The will of Allah be done! but it was an em 
 broidered belt and of great price !" 
 
 There was no time to waste in idle reports, yet bitterly did 
 the princesses bewail the loss of their faithful and discreet 
 counsellor. That excellent old woman, however, did not lose 
 more than half of her nine lives in the stream. A fisherman 
 who was drawing his nets some distance down the stream, 
 brought her to land and was not a little astonished at his 
 miraculous draught. What farther became of the discreet 
 Cadiga, the legend does not mention. Certain it is, that she 
 evinced her discretion in never venturing within the reach of 
 Mohamed the leit-handed. 
 
 Almost as little is known of the conduct of that sagacious 
 monarch, when he discovered the escape of his daughters and 
 the deceit practised upon him by the most faithful of servants. 
 It was the only instance in which he had called in the aid of 
 counsel, and he was never afterwards known to be guilty of a 
 similar weakness. He took good care, however, to guard his 
 remaining daughter; who had no disposition to elope. It is 
 thought, indeed, that she secretly repented having remained 
 behind. Now and then she was seen leaning on the battle 
 ments of the tower and looking mournfully towards the moun 
 tains, in the direction of Cordova ; and sometimes the notes of 
 her lute were heard accompanying plaintive ditties, in which 
 she was said to lament the loss of her sisters and her lover, and 
 to bewail her solitary lif e. She died young, and, according to 
 
108 THE ALJIAMBRA. 
 
 popular rumour, was buried in a vault beneath the tower, and 
 her untimely fate has given rise to more than one traditionary 
 
 fable. 
 
 LOCAL TRADITIONS. 
 
 THE common people of Spain have an oriental passion for 
 story -telling and are fond of the marvellous. They will gather- 
 round the doors of their cottages on summer evenings, or in 
 the great cavernous chimney corners of their ventas in the 
 winter, and listen with insatiable delight to miraculous legends 
 of saints, perilous adventures of travellers, and daring exploits 
 of robbers and contrabandistas. The wild and solitary nature 
 of a great part of Spain; the imperfect state of knowledge; 
 the scantiness of general topics of conversation, and the ro 
 mantic, adventurous life that every one leads in a land where 
 travelling is yet in its primitive state, all contribute to cherish 
 this love of oral narration, and to produce a strong expression 
 of the extravagant and wonderful. There is no theme, how 
 ever, more prevalent or popular than that of treasures buried 
 by the Moors. It pervades the whole country. In traversing 
 the wild Sierras, the scenes of ancient prey and exploit, you 
 cannot see a Moorish atalaya or watch-tower perched among 
 the cliffs, or beetling above its rock-built village, but your 
 muleteer, on being closely questioned, will suspend the smok 
 ing of his cigarillo to tell some tale of Moslem gold buried be> 
 neath its foundations ; nor is there a ruined alcazar in a city, 
 but has its golden tradition, handed down, from generation to 
 generation, among the poor people of the neighbourhood. 
 
 These, like most popular fictions, have had some ground 
 work in fact. During the wars between Moor and Christian, 
 which distracted the country for centuries, towns and castles 
 were liable frequently and suddenly to change owners ; and the 
 inhabitants, during sieges and assaults, were fain to bury their 
 money and jewels in the earth, or hide them in vaults and wells, 
 as is often done at the present day in the despotic and belliger 
 ent countries of the East. At the time of the expulsion of the 
 Moors, also, many of them concealed their most precious 
 effects, hoping that their exile would be but temporary, and 
 that they would be enabled to return and retrieve their treas 
 ures at some future day. It is certain that, from time to 
 time, hoards of gold and silver coin have been accidentally 
 digged up, after a lapse of centuries, from among the ruin? 
 
LEGKND OP THE MOORS LEGACY. 
 
 of Moorish fortresses and habitations, and it requires but a 
 few facts of the kind to give birth to a thousand fictions. 
 
 The stories thus originating have generally something of an 
 oriental tinge, and are marked with that mixture of the Arabic 
 and Gothic which seems to me to characterize everything in 
 Spain ; and especially in its southern provinces. The hidden 
 wealth is always laid under magic spell, and secured by charm, 
 and talisman. Sometimes it is guarded by uncouth monsters, 
 or fiery dragons ; sometimes by enchanted Moors, who sit by it 
 in armour, with drawn swords, but motionless as statues, 
 maintaining a sleepless watch for ages. 
 
 The Alhambra, of course, from the peculiar circumstances of 
 Its history, is a strong hold for popular fictions of the kind, 
 and curious reliques, dug up from time to time, have contrib 
 uted to strengthen them. At one time, an earthen vessel was 
 found, containing Moorish coins and the skeleton of a cock, 
 which, according to the opinion of shrewd inspectors, must 
 have been buried alive. At another time, a vessel was digged 
 up, containing a great scarabaeus, or beetle, of baked clay, cov 
 ered with Arabic inscriptions, which was pronounced a pro 
 digious amulet of occult virtues. In this way the wits of the 
 ragged brood who inhabit the Alhambra have been set wool 
 gathering, until there is not a hall, or tower, or vault, of the 
 old fortress that has not been made the scene of some marvel 
 lous tradition. 
 
 I have already given brief notices of some related to me by 
 the authentic Mateo Ximenes, and now subjoin one wrought 
 out from various particulars gathered among the gossips of the 
 fortress. 
 
 LEGEND OF THE MOOR S LEGACY. 
 
 JUST within the fortress of the Alhambra, in front of the 
 royal palace, is a broad open esplanade, called the place or 
 square of the cisterns, (la plaza de los algibes,) so called from 
 being undermined by reservoirs of water, hidden from sight, 
 and which have existed from the time of the Moors. At one 
 corner of this esplanade is a Moorish well, cut through the liv 
 ing rock to a great depth, the water of which is cold as ice and 
 clear as. crystal. The wells made by the Moors are always in 
 
HO THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 repute, for it is well known what pains they took to penetrate 
 to the purest and sweetest springs and fountains. The one we 
 are speaking of is famous throughout Granada, insomuch that 
 the water-carriers, some bearing great water- jars on their 
 shoulders, others driving asses before them, laden with earthen 
 vessels, are ascending and descending the steep woody avenues 
 of the Alhambra from early dawn until a late hour of the night. 
 
 Fountains and wells, ever since the scriptural days, have 
 been noted gossiping places**in hot climates, and at the well in 
 question there i^; a kind of perpetual club kept up during the 
 live-long day, by the invalids, old women, and other curious, 
 do-nothing folk of the fortress, who sit here on the stone 
 benches under an awning spread over the well to shelter the 
 toll-gatherer from the sun, and dawdle over the gossip of the 
 fortress, and question any water-carrier that arrives about the 
 news of the city, and make long comments on everything they 
 kear and see. Not an hour of the day but loitering housewives 
 and idle maid-servants may be seen, lingering with pitcher on 
 head or in hand, to hear the last of the endless tattle of these 
 worthies. 
 
 Among the water-carriers who once resorted to this well 
 there was a sturdy, strong-backed, bandy-legged litne fellow, 
 named Pedro Gil, but called Peregil for shortness. Being a 
 water-carrier, he was a Gallego, or native of Gallicia, of 
 course. Nature seems to have formed races of men as she has 
 of animals for different kinds of drudgery. In France the shoe 
 blacks are all Savoyards, the porters of hotels all Swiss, and in 
 the days of hoops and hair powder in England, no man could 
 give the regular swing to a sedan chair, but a bog-trotting 
 Irishman. So in Spain the carriers of water and bearers of 
 burdens are all sturdy little natives of Gallicia. No man says, 
 " get me a porter," but, " call a Gallego." 
 
 To return from this digression. Peregil the Gallego had 
 begun business with merely a great earthen jar, which he car 
 ried upon his shoulder ; by degrees he rose in the world, and 
 was enabled to purchase an assistant of a correspondent class 
 of animals, being a stout shaggy-haired donkey. On each side 
 of this his long-eared aid-de-camp, in a kind of pannier, were 
 slung his water-jars covered with fig leaves to protect them from 
 the sun. There was not a more industrious water-carrier in all 
 Granada, nor one more merry withal. The streets rang with his 
 cheerful voice as he trudged after his donkey, singing forth the 
 usual summer note that resounds through the Spanish towns; 
 
LEGEND OF THE MOORS LEGACY. HI 
 
 " quien quiere agua agua masfria que la nieve. Who wants 
 water water colder than snow who wants water from the 
 well of the Alhambra cold as ice and clear as crystal?" When 
 he served a customer with a sparkling glass, it was always 
 with a pleasant word that caused a smile, and if, percnance, it 
 was a comely dame, or dimpling damsel, it was always with a 
 sly leer and a compliment to her beauty that was irresistible. 
 Thus Peregil the Gallego was noted throughout all Granada for 
 being one of the civilest, pleasantest, and happiest of mortals, 
 Yet it is not he who sings loudest and jokes most that has the 
 lightest heart. Under all this air of merriment, honest Peregil 
 had his cares and troubles. He had a large family of ragged 
 children to support, who were hungry and clamorous as a 
 nest of young swallows, and beset him with their outcries for 
 food whenever he came home of an evening. He had a help 
 mate too, who was anything but a help to him. She had been 
 a village beauty before marriage, noted for her skill in dancing 
 the bolero and rattling the castanets, and she still retained her 
 early propensities, spending the hard earnings of honest Pere 
 gil in frippery, and laying the very donkey under requisition 
 for junketting parties into the country on Sundays, and saints 
 days, and those innumerable holy days which are rather more 
 numerous in Spain than the days of the week. With all this 
 she was a little of a slattern, something more of a lie-a-bed, 
 and, above all, a gossip of the first water ; neglecting house, 
 household and everything else, to loiter slip-shod in the houses 
 of her gossip neighbours. 
 
 He, however, who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, 
 accommodates the yoke of matrimony to the submissive neck. 
 Peregil bore all the heavy dispensations of wife and children 
 with as meek a spirit as his donkey bore the water-jars ; and, 
 however he might shake his ears in private, never ventured to 
 question the household virtues of his slattern spouse. 
 
 He loved his children too, even as an owl loves its owlets, 
 seeing in them his own image multiplied and perpetuated, for 
 they were a sturdy, long-backed, bandy-legged little brood. 
 The great pleasure of honest Peregil was, whenever he could 
 afford himself a scanty holyd;iy and had a handful of marave- 
 dies to spare, to take the whole litter forth with him, some in 
 his arms, some tugging at his skirts, and some trudging at his 
 I eels, and to treat them to a gambol among the orchards of the 
 Vega, while his wife was dancing with her holyday friends in 
 the Angosturas of the Darro, 
 
112 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 It was a late hour one summer night, and most of the water 
 carriers had desisted from their toils. The day had been un 
 commonly sultry ; the night was one of those delicious moon 
 lights, which tempt the inhabitants of those southern climes to 
 indemnify themselves for the heat and inaction of the day, by 
 lingering in the open air and enjoying its tempered sweetness 
 until after midnight. Customers for water were therefore 
 still abroad. Peregil, like a considerate, painstaking little 
 father, thought of his hungry children. "One more journey 
 to the well," said he to himself, "to earn a good Sunday s 
 puchcro for the little ones." So saying, he trudged rapidly up 
 the steep avenue of the Alhambra, singing as he went, and 
 now and then bestowing a hearty thwack with a cudgel on 
 the flanks of his donkey, either by way of cadence to the song, 
 or refreshment to the animal ; for dry blows serve in lieu for 
 provender in Spain, for all beasts of burden. 
 
 When arrived at the well, he found it deserted by every one 
 except a solitary stranger in Moorish garb, seated on the stone 
 bench in the moonlight. Peregil paused at first, and regarded 
 him with surprise, not unmixed with awe, but the Moor feebly 
 beckoned him to approach. 
 
 "I am faint and ill," said he; "aid me to return to the city, 
 and I will pay thee double what thou couldst gain by thy jars 
 of water." 
 
 The honest heart of the little water-carrier was touched with 
 compassion at the appeal of the stranger. "God forbid," said 
 he, " that I should ask fee or reward for doing a common act 
 of humanity. " 
 
 He accordingly helped the Moor on his donkey, and set off 
 slowly for Granada, the poor Moslem being so weak that it 
 was necessary to hold him on the animal to keep him from 
 falling to the earth. 
 
 When they entered the city, the water-carrier demanded 
 whither he should conduct him. "Alas!" said the . Moor, 
 faintly, " I have neither home nor habitation. I am a stranger 
 in the land. Suffer me to lay my head this night beneath thy 
 roof, and thou shall be amply repaid. " 
 
 Honest Peregil thus saw kimself unexpectedly saddled with 
 an infidel guest, but he was too humane to refuse a night s 
 shelter to a fellow being in so forlorn a plight ; so he conducted 
 the Moor to his dwelling. The children, who had sallied forth, 
 open-mouthed as usual, on hearing the tramp of the donkey, 
 ran back with affright, when they beheld the turbaned 
 
LEGEND OF THE NOOKS LEGACY. 113 
 
 stranger, and hid themselves behind their mother. The latter 
 stepped forth intrepidly, like a ruffling hen before her brood, 
 when a vagrant dog approaches. 
 
 "What infidel companion," cried she, "is this you have 
 brought home at this late hour, to draw upon us the eyes of 
 the Inquisition*" 
 
 u Be quiet, wife," replied the Gallcgo, "here is a poor sick 
 stranger, without friend or home : wouldst thou turn hiro forth 
 to perish in the streets ?" 
 
 The wife would still have remonstrated, for, though she 
 lived in a hovel, she was a furious stickler for the credit of her 
 house; the little water-carrier, however, for once was stiff- 
 necked, and refused to bend beneath the yoke. He assisted 
 the poor Moslem to alight, and spread a mat and a sheepskin 
 for him, on the ground, in the coolest part of the house ; being 
 the only kind of bed that his poverty afforded. 
 
 In a little while the Moor was seized with violent convul 
 sions, which defied all the ministering skill of the simple 
 water-carrier. The eye of the poor patient acknowledged, his 
 kindness. During an interval of his fits he called him to his 
 side, and addressing him in a low voice; "My end," said he, 
 "I fear is at hand. If I die I bequeath you this box as a re 
 ward for your charity." So saying, he opened his albornoz, or 
 cloak, and showed a small box of sandal wood, strapped round 
 his body. 
 
 "God grant, my friend," replied the worthy little Gallego, 
 "that you may live many years to enjoy your treasure, what 
 ever it may be." 
 
 The Moor shook his head; he laid his hand upon the box, 
 and would have said something more concerning it, but his 
 convulsions returned with increased violence, and in a little 
 while he expired. 
 
 The water-carrier s wife was now as one distracted. " This 
 comes," said she, "of your foolish good nature, always run 
 ning into scrapes to oblige others. What will become of us 
 when this corpse is found in our house? We shall be sent to 
 prison as murderers ; and if we escape with our lives, shall be 
 ruined by notaries and alguazils." 
 
 Poor Peregil was in equal tribulation, and almost repented 
 himself of having done a good deed. At length a thought 
 struck him. " It is not yet day," said he. "I can convey the 
 dead body out of the city and bury it in the sands on the banks 
 of the Xenil. No one saw the Moor enter our dwelling, and no 
 
J 14 TILE ALUAMBRA. 
 
 one will know any thing of his death." So said, so done. The 
 wife aided him . they rolled the body of the unfortunate Mos 
 lem in the mat on which he had expired, laid it across the ass, 
 and Mattias set out with it for the banks of the river. 
 
 As ill luck would have it, there lived opposite to the water- 
 carrier a barber, named Pedrillo Pedrugo, one of the most 
 prying, tattling, mischief -making, of his gossip tribe. He was 
 a weasel-faced, spider-legged varlet, supple and insinuating; 
 the famous Barber of Seville could not surpass him for his uni 
 versal knowledge of the affairs of others, and he had no more 
 power of retention than a sieve. It was said that he slept with 
 but one eye at a time, and kept one ear uncovered, so that, 
 even in his sleep, he might see and hear all that was going on. 
 Certain it is, he was a sort of scandalous chronicle for the 
 quidnuncs of Granada, and had more customers than all the 
 rest of his fraternity. 
 
 This meddlesome barber heard Peregil arrive at an unusual 
 hour of night, and the exclamations of his wife and children. 
 His head was instantly popped out of a little window which 
 served him as a lookout, and he saw his neighbour assist a man 
 in a Moorish garb into his dwelling. This was so strange an 
 occurrence that Pedrillo Pedrugo slept not a wink that night 
 every five minutes he was at his loop-hole, watching the lights 
 that gleamed through the chinks of his neighbour s door, and 
 before daylight he beheld Peregil sally forth with his donkey 
 unusually laden. 
 
 The inquisitive barber was in a fidget; he slipped on his 
 clothes, and, stealing forth silently, followed the water-carrier 
 at a distance, until he saw him dig a hole in the sandy bank 
 of the Xenil, and bury something that had the appearance of 
 a dead body. 
 
 The barber hied him home and fidgeted about his shop, set 
 ting everything upside down, until sunrise. He then took a 
 basin under his arm, and sallied forth to the house of his daily 
 customer, the Alcalde. 
 
 The Alcalde was just risen. Pedrillo Pedrugo seated him in 
 a chair, threw a napkin round his neck, put a basin of hot 
 water under his chin, and began to mollify his beard with his 
 fingers. 
 
 "Strange doings," said Pedrugo, who played barber and 
 newsmonger at the same time. "Strange doings! Bobbery, 
 and murder, and burial, all in one night !" 
 
 " Hey? how! What is it you say 2" cried the<Alcald@, 
 
LEGEND OF THE MOOR S LEGACY. 
 
 " I say," replied the barber, rubbing a piece of soap over the 
 nose and mouth of the dignitary, for a Spanish barber disdains 
 to employ a brush; "I say that Peregil the Gallego has robbed 
 and murdered a Moorish Mussulman, and buried him this 
 blessed night, maldita sea la noche, accursed be the night 
 for the same !" 
 
 " But how do you know all this?" demanded the Alcalde. 
 
 " Be patient, Sefior, and you shall hear all about it," replied 
 Pedrillo, taking him by the nose and sliding a razor over his 
 cheek. He then recounted all that he had seen, going through 
 both operations at the same time, shaving his beard, washing 
 his chin, and wiping him dry with a dirty napkin, while he 
 was robbing, murdering, and burying the Moslem. 
 
 Now it so happened that this Alcalde was one of the most 
 overbearing, and at the same time most griping and corrupt 
 curmudgeons in all Granada. It could not be denied, however, 
 that he set a high value upon justice, for he sold it at its weight 
 in gold. He presumed the case in point to be one of murder 
 and robbery ; doubtless there must be rich spoil ; how was it to 
 be secured into the legitimate hands of the law? for as to 
 merely entrapping the delinquent that would be feeding the 
 gallows: but entrapping the booty that would be enriching 
 the judge ; and such, according to his creed, was the great end 
 of justice. So thinking, he summoned to his presence his 
 trustiest alguazil ; a gaunt, hungry-looking varlet, clad, accord 
 ing to the custom of his order, in the ancient Spanish garb a 
 broad black beaver, turned up at the sides; a quaint ruff, a 
 small black cloak dangling from his shoulders; rusty black 
 under-clothes that set off his spare wiry form; while in Ins 
 hand he bore a slender white wand, the dreaded insignia of his 
 office. Such was the legal bloodhound of the ancient Spanish 
 breed, that he put upon the traces of the unlucky water-car 
 rier ; and such was his speed and certainty that he was upon 
 the haunches of poor Peregil before he had returned to his 
 dwelling, and brought both him and his donkey before the dis 
 penser of justice. 
 
 The Alcalde bent upon him one of his most terrific frowns. 
 "Hark ye, culprit," roared he in a voice that made the knees 
 of the little Gallego smite together, " Hark, ye culprit ! there is 
 no need of denying thy guilt : everything is known to me. A 
 gallows is the proper reward for the crime thou hast commit 
 ted, but I am merciful, and readily listen to reason. The man 
 that has been murdered in thy house was a Moor, an infidel, 
 
116 THE ALIIAMBHA. 
 
 the enemy of our faith. It was doubtless in a fit of religious 
 zeal that thou hast slain him. I will be indulgent, therefore ; 
 render up the property of which thou hast robbed him, and we 
 will hush the matter up," 
 
 The poor water-carrier called upon all the saints to witness 
 his innocence; alas! not one of them appeared, and if there 
 had, the Alcalde would have disbelieved the whole kalendar. 
 The water carrier related the whole story of the dying Moor 
 with the straightforward simplicity of truth, but it was all in 
 vain "Wilt thou persist in saying," demanded the judge, 
 11 that this Moslem had neither gold nor jewels, which were the 
 object of thy cupidity?" 
 
 "As I hope to be saved, your worship, " replied the water- 
 carrier, "he had nothing but a small box of sandal wood, which 
 ho bequeathed to me in reward of my services." 
 
 "A box of sandal wood! a box of sandal wood!" exclaimed 
 the Alcalde, his eyes sparkling at the idea of precious jewels, 
 "and where is this box? where have you concealed it?" 
 
 An it please your grace," replied the water-carrier, "it is 
 in one of the panniers of my mule, and heartily at the service 
 of your worship." 
 
 He had hardly spoken the words when the keen alguazil 
 darted off and reappeared in an instant with the mysterious 
 box of sandal wood. The Alcalde opened it with an eager and 
 trembling hand ; all pressed forward to gaze upon the treasures 
 it was expected to contain; when, to their disappointment, 
 nothing appeared within but a parchment scroll, covered with 
 Arabic characters, and an end of a waxen taper! 
 
 When there is nothing to be gained by the conviction of a 
 prisoner, justice, even in Spain, is apt to be impartial. The 
 Alcalde, having recovered from his disappointment and found 
 there was really no booty in the case, now listened dispassion 
 ately to the explanation of the water-carrier, which was cor 
 roborated by the testimony 6f his wife. Being convinced, 
 therefore, of his innocence, he discharged him from arrest ; nay 
 more, he permitted him to carry off the Moor s legacy, the box 
 of sandal wood and its contents, as the woll-merited reward of 
 his humanity ; but he retained his donkey in payment of cost 
 and charges. 
 
 Behold the unfortunate little Gallego reduced once more to 
 the necessity of being his own water-carrier, and trudging up 
 to the well of the Alhambra with a great earthen jar upon his 
 Ehoulder. As he toiled up the hill in the heat of a summer noon 
 
LEGEND OF THE MOOR R LEGACY. 117 
 
 his usual good-humour forsook him. "Dog of an Alcalde!" 
 would he cry, k to rob a poor man of the means of his subsist- 
 ence __ f the best friend he had in the world !" And then, at 
 the remembrance of the beloved companion of his labours, all 
 the kindness of his nature would break forth. Ah, donkey 
 of my heart !" would he exclaim, resting his burden on a stone, 
 and wiping the sweat from his brow, " Ah, donkey of my heart ! 
 I warrant me thou thinkest of thy old master! I warrant mo 
 thou missest the water jars poor beast !" 
 
 To add to his afflictions his wife received him, on his return 
 home, with whimperings and repinings; she had clearly the 
 vantage-ground of him, having warned him not to commit the 
 egregious act of hospitality that had brought on him all these 
 misfortunes, and like a knowing woman, she took every occa 
 sion to throw her superior sagacity in his teeth. If ever her 
 children lacked food, or needed a new garment, she would an 
 swer with a sneer, " Go to your father; he s heir to king Chico 
 of the Alhambra. Ask him to help you out of the Moor s strong 
 box." 
 
 Was ever poor mortal more soundly punished, for having 
 done a good action ! The unlucky Peregil was grieved in flesh 
 and spirit, but still he bore meekly with the railings of his 
 spouse. At length one evening, when, after a hot day s toil, 
 she taunted him in the usual manner, he lost all patience. He 
 did not venture to retort upon her, but his eye rested upon 
 the box of sandal wood, which lay on a shelf with lid half 
 open, as if laughing in mockery of his vexation. Seizing it up 
 he dashed it with indignation on the floor. Unlucky was 
 the day that I ever set eyes on thee," he cried, "or sheltered 
 thy master beneath my roof." 
 
 As the box struck the floor the lid flew wide open, and the 
 parchment scroll rolled forth. Peregil sat regarding the scroll 
 for some time in moody silence. At length rallying his ideas, 
 "Who knows," thought he, "but this writing may be of some 
 importance, as the Moor seems to have guarded it with such 
 care." Picking it up, therefore, he put it in his bosom, and 
 the next morning, as he was crying water through the streets, 
 he stopped at the shop of a Moor, a native of Tangiers, who 
 sold trinkets and perfumery in the Zacatin, and asked him to 
 explain the contents. 
 
 The Moor read the scroll attentively, then stroked his beard 
 and smiled. "This manuscript," said he, "is a form of incan 
 tation for the recovery of hidden treasure, that is under the 
 
118 THIS AL11AMBHA. 
 
 power of enchantment. It is said to have such virtue that the 
 strongest bolts and bars, nay the adamantine rock itself will 
 yield before it." 
 
 "Bah!" cried the little Gallego, "what is all that to me? I 
 am no enchanter, and know nothing of buried treasure." So 
 saying he shouldered his water- jar, left the seroll in the hands 
 of the Moor, and trudged forward on his daily rounds. 
 
 That evening, however, as he rested himself about twilight 
 at the well of the Alhambra, he found a number of gossips as 
 sembled at the place, and their conversation, as is not unusual 
 at that shadowy hour, turned upon old tales and traditions of 
 a supernatural nature. Being all poor as rats, they dwelt with 
 peculiar fondness upon the popular theme of enchanted riches 
 left by the Moors in various parts of the Alhambra. Above 
 all, they concurred in the belief that there were great treasures 
 buried deep in the earth under the tower of the Seven Floors. 
 
 These, stories made an unusual impression on the mind of 
 honest Peregil, and they sank deeper and deeper into his 
 thoughts as he returned alone down the darkling avenues. 
 " If, after all, there should be treasure hid beneath that tower 
 and if the scroll I left with the Moor should enable me to get 
 at it !" In the sudden ecstasy of the thought he had well nigh 
 let fall his water-jar. 
 
 That night he tumbled and tossed, and could scarcely get a 
 wink of sleep for the thoughts that were bewildering his brain. 
 In the morning, bright and early, he repaired to the shop of 
 the Moor, and told him alt that was passing in his mind. 
 "You can read Arabic," said he, "suppose we go together to 
 the tower and try the effect of the charm; if it fails we are no 
 worse off than before, but if it succeeds we will share equally 
 all the treasure we may discover." 
 
 "Hold," replied the Moslem, "this writing is not sufficient 
 of itself ; it must be read at midnight, by the light of a taper 
 singularly compounded and prepared, the ingredients of which 
 are not within my reach. Without such taper the scroll is 01 
 no avail." 
 
 "Say no more!" cried the little Gallego. "I have such a 
 taper at hand and will bring it here in a moment." So saying 
 he hastened home, and soon returned with the end of a yellow 
 wax taper that he had found in the box of sandal wood. 
 
 The Moor felt it, -ana smelt to it. " Here are rare and costly 
 perfumes," said he, " combined with this yellow wax. This is 
 the kind of taper specified in the scroll. While this burns, th 
 
LEGEND OF THE MOORS LEGACY. 119 
 
 strongest walls and most secret caverns will remain open,- woe 
 to him, however, who lingers within until it be extinguished. 
 He will remain enchanted with the treasure." 
 
 It was now agreed between them to try the charm that very 
 night. At a late hour, therefore, when nothing was stirring 
 but bats and owls, they ascended the woody hill of the Alham- 
 bra, and approached that awful tower, shrouded by trees and 
 rendered formidable by so many traditionary tales. 
 
 By the light of a lantern, they groped their way through 
 bushes, and over fallen stones, to the door of a vault beneath 
 the tower. With fear and trembling they descended a flight 
 of steps cut into the rock. It led to an empty chamber, damp 
 and drear, from which another flight of steps led to a deeper 
 vault. In this way they descended four several flights, lead 
 ing into as many vaults, one below the other, but the floor of 
 the fourth was solid, and though, according to tradition, there 
 remained three vaults still below, it was said to be impossible 
 to penetrate farther, the residue being shut up by strong en 
 chantment. The air of this vault was damp and chilly, and 
 had an earthy smell, and the light scarce cast forth any rays. 
 They paused here for a time in breathless suspense, until they 
 faintly heard the clock of the watch tower strike midnight; 
 upon this they lit the waxen taper, which diffused an odour 
 of myrrh, and frankincense, and storax. 
 
 The Moor began to read in a hurried voice. He had scarce 
 finished, when there was a noise as of subterraneous thunder. 
 The earth shook, and the floor yawning open disclosed a flight 
 of steps. Trembling with awe they descended, and by the 
 light of the lantern found themselves in another vault, covered 
 with Arabic inscriptions. In the centre stood a great chest, 
 secured with seven bands of steel, at each end of which sat an 
 enchanted Moor in armour, but motionless as a statue, being 
 controlled by the power of the incantation. Before the chest 
 were several jars filled with gold and silver and precious 
 stones. In the largest of these they thrust their arms up to 
 the elbow, and at every dip hauled forth hands-full of broad 
 yellow pieces of Moorish gold, or bracelets and ornaments of 
 the same precious metal, while occasionally a necklace of 
 oriental pearl would stick to their fingers. Still they trembled 
 and breathed short while cramming their pockets with the 
 spoils ; and cast many a fearful glance at the two enchanted 
 Moors, who sat grim and motionless, glaring upon them with 
 unwinking eyes, At length, struck with a sudden panic at 
 
120 THE ALIIAMBRA. 
 
 some- fancied noise, they both rushed up the staircase, tumbled 
 over one another into the upper apartment, overturned and 
 extinguished the waxen taper, and the pavement again closed 
 with a thundering sound. 
 
 Filled with dismay, they did not pause until they had 
 groped their way out of the tower, and beheld the stars shin 
 ing through the trees. Then seating themselves upon the 
 grass, they divided the spoil, determining to content them- 
 selves for the present with this mere skimming of the jars, 
 but to return on some future night and drain them to the bot 
 tom. To make sure of each other s good faith, also, they 
 divided the talismans between them, one retaining the scroll, 
 and the other the taper; this done, they set off with light* 
 hearts and well lined pockets for Granada. 
 
 As they wended their way down the hill, the shrewd Moor 
 whispered a word of counsel in the ear of the simple little 
 water-carrier. 
 
 "Friend Peregil," said he, "all this affair must be kept a 
 profound secret until we have secured the treasure and con 
 veyed it out of harm s way. If a whisper of it gets to the ear 
 of the Alcalde we are undone !" 
 
 "Certainly!" replied the Gallego; "nothing can be more 
 true." 
 
 "Friend Peregil," said the Moor, "you are a discreet man, 
 and I make no doubt can keep a secret; but you have a 
 wife " 
 
 "She shall not know a word of it!" replied the little water- 
 carrier sturdily. 
 
 "Enough," said the Moor, "I depend upon thy discretion 
 and thy promise." 
 
 Never was promise more positive and sincere; but alas! 
 what man can keep a secret from his wife? Certainly not 
 such a one as Peregil the water-carrier, who was one of the 
 most loving and tractable of husbands. On his return home 
 he found his wife moping in a corner. 
 
 " Mighty well !" cried she, as he entered; "you ve come at 
 last; after rambling about until this hour of the night. I 
 wonder you have not brought home another Moor as a house* 
 mate." Then bursting into tears she began to wring her 
 hands and smite her breast. "Unhappy woman that I am!" 
 exclaimed she, "what will become of me! My house stripped 
 and plundered by lawyers and alguazils ; my husband a do-no- 
 good that no longer brings home bread for his family, but 
 
LEGKND OF THE MOOR S LEGACY. 
 
 goes rambling about, day and night, with infidel Moors. Oh, 
 my children ! my children ! what will become of us ; we shall 
 all have to be g in the streets !" 
 
 Honest Peregil was so moved by the distress of his spouse, 
 that he could not help whimpering also. His heart was as full 
 as his pocket, and not to be restrained. Thrusting his hand 
 into the latter he hauled forth three or four broad gold pieces 
 and slipped them into her bosom. The poor woman stared 
 with astonishment, and could not understand the meaning of 
 this golden shower. Before she could recover her surprise, 
 the little Gallego drew forth a chain of gold and dangled it 
 before her, capering with exultation, his mouth distended 
 from ear to ear. 
 
 "Holy Virgin protect us!" exclaimed the wife. What 
 hast thou been doing, Peregil? Surely thou hast not been 
 committing murder and robbery !" 
 
 The idea scarce entered the brain of the poor woman than it 
 became a certainty with her. She saw a prison and a gallows 
 in the distance, and a little bandy-legged Gallego dangling 
 pendant from it; and, overcome by the horrors conjured up 
 by her imagination, fell into violent hysterics. 
 
 What could the poor man do? He had no other means of 
 pacifying his wife and dispelling the phantoms of her fancy, 
 than by relating the whole story of his good fortune. This, 
 however, he did not do until he had exacted from her the 
 most solemn promise to keep it a profound secret from every 
 living being. 
 
 To describe her joy would be impossible. She flung her 
 arms round the neck of her husband, and almost strangled 
 him with her caresses. "Now, wife!" exclaimed the little 
 man with honest exultation, "what say you now to the Moor s 
 legacy? Henceforth never abuse me for helping a^fellow crea 
 ture in distress. " 
 
 The honest Gallego retired to his sheepskin mat, and slept as 
 soundly as if on a bed of down. Not so his wife. She emptied 
 the whole contents of his pockets upon the mat, and sat all 
 night counting gold pieces of Arabic coin, trying on necklaces 
 and ear-rings, and fancying the figure she should one day 
 make when permitted to enjoy her riches. 
 
 On the following morning the honest Gallego took a broad 
 golden coin, and repaired with it to a jeweller s shop in the 
 Zacatin to offer it for sale ; pretending to have found it among 
 the ruins of the Alhambra. The jeweller saw that it had an 
 
122 THE ALII AMUR A. 
 
 9 
 
 Arabic inscription and was of the purest gold; he offered, 
 however, but a third of its value, with which the water-carrier 
 was perfectly content. Peregil now bought new clothes for 
 his little flock, and all kinds of toys, together with ample pro 
 visions for a hearty meal, and returning to his dwelling set 
 all his children dancing around him, while he capered in the 
 midst, the happiest of fathers. 
 
 The wife of the water-carrier kept her promise of secrecy 
 with surprising strictness. For a whole day and a half she 
 went about with a look of mystery and a heart swelling almost 
 to bursting, yet she held her peace, though surrounded by her 
 gossips, it is true she could not help giving herself a few airs, 
 apologized for her ragged dress, and talked of ordering a new 
 basquina all trimmed with gold lace and bugles, and a new 
 lace mantilla. She threw out hints of her husband s intention 
 of leaving off his trade of water- carry ing, as it did not alto 
 gether agree with his health. In fact she thought they should 
 ah* retire to the country for the summer, that the children 
 might have the benefit of the mountain air, for there was no 
 living in the city in this sultry season. 
 
 The neighbours stared at each other, and thought the poor 
 woman had lost her wits, and her airs and graces and 
 elegant pretensions were the theme of universal scoffing 
 and merriment among her friends, the moment her back was 
 turned. 
 
 If she restrained herself abroad, however, she indemnified 
 herself at home, and, putting a string of rich oriental pearls 
 round her neck, Moorish bracelets on her arms ; an aigrette of 
 diamonds on her head, sailed backwards and forwards in her 
 slattern rags about the room, now and then stopping to r.dmire 
 herself in a piece of broken mirror. Nay, in the impulse of 
 her simple vanity, she could not resist on one occasion show 
 ing herself at the window, to enjoy the effect of her finery on 
 the passers by. 
 
 As the fates would have it, Pedrillo Pedrugo, the meddle 
 some barber, was at this moment sitting idly in his shop on 
 the opposite side of the street, when his ever watchful eye 
 caught the sparkle of a diamond. In an instant he was at his 
 loop-hole, reconnoitring the slattern spouse of the water-car 
 rier, decorated with the splendour of an eastern bride. No 
 sooner had he taken an accurate inventory of her ornaments 
 than he posted off with all speed to the Alcalde. In a little 
 while the hungry alguazil was again on the scent, and before 
 
LEGEND OF TIIE MOOR S LEGACY. 123 
 
 the day was over, the unfortunate Peregil was again dragged 
 into the presence of the judge. 
 
 "How is this, villain!" cried the Alcalde in a furious voice, 
 "You told me that the infidel who died in your house left 
 nothing behind but an empty coffer, and now I hear of your 
 wife flaunting in her rags decked out with pearls and dia 
 monds. Wretch, that thou art! prepare to render up the 
 spoils of thy miserable victim, and to swing on the gallows 
 that is already tired of waiting for thee. " 
 
 The terrified water-carrier fell on his knees, and made a full 
 relation of the marvellous manner in which he had gained his 
 wealth. The Alcalde, the alguazil, and the inquisitive barber 
 listened with greedy ears to this Arabian tale of enchanted 
 treasure. The alguazil was despatched to bring the Moor who 
 had assisted in the incantation. The Moslem entered half fright 
 ened out of his wits at finding himself in the hands of the harpies 
 of the law. When he beheld the water-carrier standing with 
 sheepish look and downcast countenance, he comprehended 
 the whole matter. "Miserable animal," said he, as he passed 
 near him, "did I not warn thee against babbling to thy 
 wife?" * 
 
 The story of the Moor coincided exactly with that of his col 
 league ; but the Alcalde affected to be slow of belief, and threw 
 out menaces of imprisonment and rigorous investigation. 
 
 "Softly, good Seiior Alcalde," said the Mussulman, who by 
 this time had recovered his usual shrewdness and self-posses 
 sion. "Let us not mar fortune s favours in the scramble for 
 them. Nobody knows any thing of this matter but ourselves ; 
 let us keep the secret. There is wealth enough in the cave to 
 enrich us all. Promise a fair division, and all shall be pro 
 duced ; refuse, and the cave shall remain for ever closed. " 
 
 The Alcalde consulted apart with the alguazil. The latter was 
 an old fox in his profession. "Promise any thing," said he, 
 until you get possession of the treasure. You may then seize 
 upon the whole, and if he and his accomplice dare to murmur, 
 threaten them with the faggot and the stake as infidels and 
 sorcerers." 
 
 The Alcalde relished the advice. Smoothing his brow and 
 turning to the Moor, "This is a strange story," said he, "and 
 may be true, but I must have ocular proof of it. This very 
 night you must repeat the incantation in my presence. If 
 there be really such treasure, we will share it amicably between 
 us, and say nothing further of the matter ; if ye have deceived 
 
324 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 me, expect no mercy at my hands. In the mean time you 
 must remain in custody. " 
 
 The Moor and the water-carrier cheerfully agreed to these 
 conditions, satisfied that the event would prove the truth of 
 their words. 
 
 Towards midnight the Alcalde sallied forth secretly, attended 
 by the alguazil and the meddlesome barber, all strongly armed. 
 They conducted the Moor and the water-carrier as prisoners, 
 and were provided with the stout donkey of the latter, to bear 
 off the expected treasure. They arrived at the tower without 
 being observed, and tying the donkey to a fig-tree, descended 
 into the fourth vault of the tower. 
 
 The scroll was produced, the yellow waxen taper lighted, 
 and the Moor read the form of incantation. The earth trembled 
 as before, and the pavement opened with a thundering sound, 
 disclosing the narrow flight of steps. The Alcalde, the alguazil, 
 and the barber were struck aghast, and could not summon 
 courage to descend. The Moor and the water-carrier entered 
 the lower vault and found the two Moors seated as before, silent 
 and motionless. They removed two of the great jars, filled with 
 golden coin and precious stones. The water-carrier bore them 
 up one by one upon his shoulders, but though a strong- 
 backed little man, and accustomed to carry burdens, he 
 staggered beneath their weight, and found, when slung on 
 each side of his donkey, they were as much as the animal could 
 bear. 
 
 " Let us be content for the present," said the Moor; u here is 
 as much treasure as we can carry off without being perceived, 
 and enough to make us all wealthy to our heart s desire. " 
 
 "Is there more treasure remaining behind?" demanded the 
 Alcalde. 
 
 "The greatest prize of all," said the Moor; "a huge coffer, 
 bound with bands of steel, and filled with pearls and precious 
 stones." 
 
 "Let us have up the coffer by all means," cried the grasping 
 Alcalde. 
 
 "I will descend for no more," said the Moor, doggedly. 
 1 Enough is enough for a reasonable man ; more is superfluous." 
 
 * And I, " said the water-carrier, will bring up no further 
 burthen to break the back of my poor donkey. " 
 
 Finding commands, threats, and entreaties equally vain; the 
 Alcalde turned to his two adherents. "Aid me," said he, "to 
 bring up the coffer, and its contents shall be divided between 
 
LEGEND OF THE MOORS LEGACY. 125 
 
 Us ; " So saying he descended the steps, followed, with trem 
 bling reluctance, by the alguazil and the barber. 
 
 No sooner did the Moor behold them fairly earthed than he 
 extinguished the yellow taper: the pavement closed with its 
 usual crash, and the three worthies remained buried in its 
 womb. 
 
 He then hastened up the different flights of steps, nor stopped 
 Until in the open air. The little water-carrier followed him as 
 fast as his short legs would permit. 
 
 "What hast thou done?" cried Peregil, as soon as he could 
 recover breath. "The Alcalde and the other two are shut up 
 in the vault!" 
 
 "It is the will of Allah!" said the Moor, devoutly. 
 
 "And will you not release them?" demanded the Gallego. 
 
 Allah forbid !" replied the Moor, smoothing his beard. It 
 is written in the book of fate that they shall remain enchanted 
 until some future adventurer shall come to break the charm. 
 The will of God be done !" So saying he hurled the end of the 
 waxen taper far among the gloomy thickets of the glen. 
 
 There was now no remedy; so the Moor and the water-carrier 
 proceeded with the richly-laden donkey towards the city: nor 
 could honest Peregil refrain from hugging and kissing his long- 
 eared fellow-labourer, thus restored to him from the clutches of 
 the law; and, in fact, it is doubtful which gave the simple- 
 hearted little man most joy at the moment, the gaining of the 
 treasure or the recovery of the donkey. 
 
 The two partners in good luck divided their spoil amicably 
 and fairly, excepting that the Moor, who had a little taste for 
 trinketry, made out to get into his heap the most of the pearls 
 and precious stones, and other baubles, but then he always 
 gave the water-carrier in lieu magnificent jewels of massy gold 
 four times the size, with which the latter was heartily content. 
 They took care not to linger within reach of accidents, but 
 made off to enjoy their wealth undisturbed in other countries. 
 The Moor returned into Africa, to his native city of Tetuan, 
 and the Gallego. with his wife, his children and his donkey, 
 made the best of his way to Portugal. Here, under the ad 
 monition and tuition of his wife, he became a personage of some 
 consequence, for she made the little man array his long body 
 and short iegs in doublet and hose, with a feather in his hat 
 and a sword by his side ; and, laying aside the tamiliar appella 
 tion of Peregil, assume the more sonorous title of Don Pedro 
 Gil, His progeny grew up a thriving and merry -hear ted. 
 
126 THE ALIIAMBRA. 
 
 though short and bandy-legged generation ; while the SenQra 
 Gil, be-fringed, be-laced, and be-tasselled from her head to her 
 heels, with glittering rings on every finger, became a model of 
 slattern fashion and finery. 
 
 As to the Alcalde, and his adjuncts, they remained shut up 
 under the great tower of the Seven Floors, and there they re 
 main spell-bound at the present day. Whenever there shall be 
 a lack in Spain of pimping barbers, sharking alguazils, and 
 corrupt Alcaldes, they may be sought after ; but if they have 
 to wait until such time for their deliverance, there is danger of 
 their enchantment enduring until doomsday. 
 
 VISITORS TO THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 IT is now nearly three months since I took up my abode in 
 the Alhambra, during which time the progress of the season 
 has wrought many changes. When I first arrived every thing 
 was in the freshness of May ; the foliage of the trees was still 
 tender and transparent ; the pomegranate had not yet shed its 
 brilliant crimson blossoms ; the orchards of the Xenil and the 
 Darro were in full bloom ; the rocks were hung with wild flow 
 ers, and Granada seemed completely surrounded by a wilder 
 ness of roses, among which innumerable nightingales sang, not 
 merely in the night, but all day long. 
 
 The advance of summer has withered the rose and silenced 
 the nightingale, and the distant country begins to look parched 
 and sunburnt ; though a perennial verdure reigns immediately 
 round the city, and in the deep narrow valleys at the foot of 
 the snow-capped mountains. 
 
 The Alhambra possesses retreats graduated to the heat of the 
 weather, among which the most peculiar is the almost subter 
 ranean apartment of the baths. This still retains its ancient 
 oriental character, though stamped with the touching traces 
 of decline. At the entrance, opening into a small court for 
 merly adorned with flowers, is a hall, moderate in size, but 
 light and graceful in architecture. It is overlooked by a small 
 gallery supported by marble pillars and moresco arches. An 
 alabaster fountain in the centre of the pavement still throws up 
 a jet of water to cool the place. On each side are deep alcoves 
 with raised platforms, where the bathers after their ablutions 
 
VISITORS TO THE ALII A MB R A. 127 
 
 reclined on luxurious cushions, soothe^, to voluptuous repose 
 by the fragrance of the perfumed air and the notes of soft 
 music from the gallery. Beyond this hall are the interior 
 chambers, still more private and retired, where no light is 
 admitted but through small apertures in the vaulted ceil 
 ings. Here was the sanctum sanctorum of female privacy, 
 where the beauties of the harem indulged in the luxury of 
 the baths. A soft mysterious light reigns through the place, 
 the broken baths are still there, and traces of ancient elegance. 
 
 The prevailing silence and obscurity have made this a fa 
 vourite resort of bats, who nestle during the day in the dark 
 nooks and corners, and, on being disturbed, flit mysteriously 
 about the twilight chambers, heightening in an indescribable 
 degree their air of desertion and decay. 
 
 In this cool and elegant though dilapidated retreat, which 
 has the freshness and seclusion of a grotto, I have of late passed 
 the sultry hours of the day; emerging toward sunset, and 
 bathing, or rather swimming, at night in the great reservoir 
 of the mam court. In this way I have been enabled in a mea 
 sure to counteract the relaxing and enervating influence of the 
 climate. 
 
 My dream of absolute sovereignty, however, is at an end : I 
 was roused from it lately by the report of fire-arms, which 
 reverberated among the towers as if the castle had been taken 
 by surprise. On sallying forth I found an old cavalier with a 
 number of domestics in possession of the hall of ambassadors. 
 He was an ancient Count, who had come up from his palace in 
 Granada to pass a short time in the Alhambra for the benefit 
 cf purer air, and who, being a veteran and inveterate sports 
 man, was endeavouring to get an appetite for his breakfast by 
 shooting at swallows from the balconies. It was a harmless 
 amusement, for though, by the alertness of his attendants in 
 loading his pieces, he was enabled to keep up a brisk fire, I 
 could not accuse him of the death of a single swallow. Nay, 
 the birds themselves seemed to enjoy the sport, and to deride 
 his want of skill, skimming in circles close to the balconies, 
 and twittering as they darted by. 
 
 The arrival of this old gentleman has in some measure 
 changed the aspect of affairs, but has likewise afforded matter 
 for agreeable speculation. We have tacitly shared the empire 
 between us, like the last kings of Granada, excepting that we 
 maintain a most amicable alliance. He reigns absolute over 
 the Court of the Lions and its adjacent halls, while I maintain 
 
128 THE 
 
 peaceful possession of the region of the baths and the little 
 garden of Lindaraxa. We take our meals together under the 
 arcades of the court, where the fountains cool the air, and 
 bubbling rills run along the channels of the marble pavement. 
 
 In the evening, a domestic circle gathers about the worthy 
 old cavalier. The countess comes up from the city, with a 
 favourite daughter about sixteen years of age. Then there 
 are the official dependents of the Count, his chaplain, his law 
 yer, his secretary, his steward, and others officers and agents 
 of his extensive possessions. Thus he holds a kind of domestic 
 court, where every person seeks to contribute to his amuse 
 ment, without sacrificing his own pleasure or self-respect. In 
 fact, whatever may be said of Spanish pride, it certainly does 
 not enter into social or domestic life. Among no people are 
 the relations between kindred more cordial, or between supe 
 rior and dependent more frank and genial; in these respects 
 there still remains, in the provincial life of Spain, much of 
 the vaunted simplicity of the olden times. 
 
 The most interesting member of this family group, however, 
 is the daughter of the Count, the charming though almost infan 
 tile little Carmen. Her form has not yet attained its maturity, 
 but has already the "exquisite symmetry and pliant grace so 
 prevalent in this country. Her blue eyes, fair complexion, 
 and light hair are unusual in Andalusia, and give a mildness 
 and gentleness to her demeanour, in contrast to the usual fire 
 of Spanish beauty, but in perfect unison with the guileless and 
 confiding innocence of her manners. She has, however, all the 
 innate aptness and versatility of her fascinating country 
 women, and sings, dances, and plays the guitar and other 
 instruments to admiration. A few days after taking up his 
 residence in the Alhambra, the Count gave a domestic fete on 
 his saint s day, assembling round him the members of his 
 family and household, while several old servants came from 
 his distant possessions to pay their reverence to him, and par 
 take of the good cheer. 
 
 This patriarchal spirit which characterized the Spanish no 
 bility in the days of their opulence has declined with their 
 fortunes ; but some who, like the Count, still retain their an 
 cient family possessions, keep up a little of the ancient system, 
 and have their estates overrun and almost eaten up by genera 
 tions of idle retainers. According to this magnificent old 
 Spanish system, in which the national pride and generosity 
 bore equal parts, a superannuated servant was never turned 
 
VISITORS TO THE ALII A MB R A. 129 
 
 off, but became a charge for the rest of his days; nay, his 
 children, and his children s children, and often their relations, 
 to the right and left, became gradually entailed upon the 
 family. Hence the huge palaces of the Spanish nobility, 
 which have such an air of empty ostentation from the great 
 ness of their size compared with the mediocrity and scanti 
 ness of their furniture, were absolutely required in the golden 
 days of Spain by the patriarchal habits of their possessors. 
 They were little better than vast barracks for the hereditary 
 generations of hangers-on that battened at the expense of a 
 Spanish noble. The worthy Count, who has estates in various 
 parts of the kingdom, assures me that some of them barely 
 feed the hordes of dependents nestled upon them ; who con 
 sider themselves entitled to be maintained upon the place, rent 
 free, because their forefathers have been so for generations. 
 
 The domestic fete of the Count broke in upon the usual still 
 life of the Alhambra. Music and laughter resounded through 
 its late silent halls ; there were groups of the guests amusing 
 themselves about the galleries and gardens, and officious ser 
 vants from town hurrying through the courts, bearing viands 
 to the ancient kitchen, which was again alive with the tread of 
 cooks and scullions, and blazed with unwonted fires. 
 
 The feast, for a Spanish set dinner is literally a feast, was 
 laid in the beautiful morescohall called " la sala de las dos Her- 
 manas," (the saloon of the two sisters;) the table groaned with 
 abundance, and a joyous conviviality prevailed round the 
 board ; for though the Spaniards are generally an abstemious 
 people, they are complete revellers at a banquet. 
 
 For my own part, there was something peculiarly interest 
 ing in thus sitting at a feast, in the royal halls of the Alham 
 bra, given by the representative of one of its most renowned 
 conquerors; for the venerable Count, though un warlike him 
 self, is the lineal descendant and representative of the " Great 
 Captain," the illustrious Gonsalvo of Cordova, whose sword 
 he guards in the archives of his palace at Granada. 
 
 The banquet ended, the company adjourned to the hall of 
 ambassadors. Here every one contributed to the general 
 amusement by exerting some peculiar talent ; singing, impro 
 vising, telling wonderful tales, or dancing to that ail-pervad 
 ing talisman of Spanish pleasure, the guitar. 
 
 The life and charm of the whole assemblage, however, was 
 the gifted little Carmen. She took her part in two or three 
 scenes from Spanish comedies, exhibiting a charming dra- 
 
130 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 matic talent ; she gave imitations of the popular Italian sing 
 ers, with singular and whimsical felicity, and a rare quality of 
 voice; she imitated the dialects, dances and ballads of the 
 gipsies and the neighbouring peasantry, but did every thing 
 with a facility, a neatness, a grace, and an all-pervading pret- 
 tiness, that were perfectly fascinating. The great charm of 
 her performances, however, was their being free from all pre 
 tension or ambition or display. She seemed unconscious of 
 the extent of her own talents, and in fact is accustomed only 
 to exert them casually, like a child, for the amusement of the 
 domestic circle. Her observation and tact must be remark 
 ably quick, for her life is passed in the bosom of her family, 
 and she can only have had casual and transient glances at 
 the various characters and traits, brought out impromptu in 
 moments of domestic hilarity, like the one in question. It is 
 pleasing to see the fondness and admiration with which every 
 one of the household regards her : she is never spoken of, even 
 by the domestics, by any other appellation than that of La 
 Nina, "the child," an appellation which thus applied has 
 something peculiarly kind and endearing in the Spanish lan 
 guage. 
 
 Never shall I think of the Alhambra without remembering 
 the lovely little Carmen sporting in happy and innocent girl 
 hood in its marble halls ; dancing to the sound of the Moorish 
 castanets, or mingling the silver warbling of her voice with 
 the music of the fountains. 
 
 On this festive occasion several curious and amusing legends 
 and traditions were told; many of which have escaped my 
 memory ; but of those that most struck me, I will endeavour 
 to shape forth some entertainment for the reader. 
 
 LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL EAMEL; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE PILGRIM OF LOVE. 
 
 THERE was once a Moorish King of Granada who had but 
 one son, whom he named Ahmed, to which his courtiers added 
 the surname of al Kamel, or the perfect, from the indubitable 
 signs of super-excellence which they perceived in him in his 
 very infancy. The astrologers countenanced them in their 
 
LEGEND OF PR1XCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 131 
 
 foresight, predicting every thing in his favour that could 
 make a perfect prince and a prosperous sovereign. One cloud 
 only rested upon his destiny, and even that was of a roseate 
 hue. He would be of an amorous temperament, and run great 
 perils from the tender passion. If, however, he could be kept 
 from the aUurements of love until of mature age, these dan 
 gers would be averted, and his life thereafter be one uninter 
 rupted course of felicity. 
 
 To prevent all danger of the kind, the king wisely deter 
 mined to rear the prince in a seclusion, where he should never 
 see a female face nor hear even the name of love. For this 
 purpose he built a beautiful palace on the brow of a hill above 
 the Alhambra, in the midst of delightful gardens, but sur 
 rounded by lofty walls; being, in fact, the same palace known 
 at the present day by the name of the Generaliffe. In this 
 palace the youthful prince was shut up and entrusted to the 
 guardianship and instruction of Ebon Bonabbon, one of the 
 wisest and dryest of Arabian sages, who had passed the great 
 est part of his life in Egypt, studying hieroglyphics and mak 
 ing researches among the tombs and pyramids, and who saw 
 more charms in an Egyptian mummy than in the most tempt 
 ing of living beauties. The sage was ordered to instruct the 
 prince in all kinds of knowledge but one he is to be kept 
 utterly ignorant of love "use every precaution for the pur 
 pose you may think proper," said the king, "but remember, 
 oh Ebon Bonabbon, if my son learns aught of that forbidden 
 knowledge, while under your care, your head shall answer for 
 A withered smile came over the dry visage of the wise 
 Bonabbon at the menace. "Let your majesty s heart be as 
 easy about your son as mine is about my head. Am I a man 
 likely to give lessons in the idle passion?" 
 
 Under the vigilant care of the philosopher, the prince grew 
 up in the seclusion of tne palace and its gardens. He had 
 black slaves to attend upon him hideous mutes, who knew 
 nothing of love, or if they did, had not words to communicate 
 His mental endowments were the peculiar care of Ebon 
 Bonabbon, who sought to initiate him into the abstruse lore of 
 Egypt, but in this the prince made little progress, and it was 
 soon evident that he had no turn for philosophy. 
 
 He was, however, amazingly ductile for a youthful prince ; 
 ready to follow any advice and always guided by the last coun 
 cillor. He suppressed his yawns, and listened patiently to the 
 long and learned discourses of Ebon Bonabbon, from which he 
 
132 THE ALUAMBRA. 
 
 imbibed a smattering of various kinds of knowledge, and thus 
 happily attained his twentieth year, a miracle of princely wis 
 dom, but totally ignorant of love. 
 
 About this time, however, a change came over the conduct 
 of the prince. He completely abandoned his studies and took 
 to strolling about the gardens and musing by the side of the 
 fountains. He had been taught a little music among his vari 
 ous accomplishments; it now engrossed a great part of his 
 time, and si turn for poetry became apparent. The sage Ebon 
 Bonabbon took the alarm, and endeavoured to work these idle 
 humours out of him by a severe course of algebra ; but the 
 prince turned from it with distaste. " I cannot endure alge 
 bra," said he ; u it is an abomination to me. I want something 
 that speaks more to the heart." 
 
 The sage Ebon Bonabbon shook his dry head at the words. 
 " Here s an end to philosophy," thought he. " The prince has 
 discovered he has a heart !" He now kept anxious watch upon 
 his pupil, and saw that the latent tenderness of his nature 
 was in activity, and only wanted an object. He wandered 
 about the gardens of the Generaliffe in an intoxication of 
 feelings of which he knew not the cause. Sometimes he 
 would sit plunged in a delicious reverie ; then he would seize 
 his lute and draw from it the most touching notes, and 
 then throw it aside, and break forth into sighs and ejacula- 
 tions. 
 
 By degrees this loving disposition began to extend to inani 
 mate objects ; he had his favourite flowers which he cherished 
 with tender; assiduity then he became attached to various 
 trees, and there was one in particular, of a graceful form and 
 drooping foliage, on which he lavished his amorous devo 
 tion, carving his name on its bark, hanging garlands on its 
 branches, and singing couplets in its praise, to the accompani 
 ment of his lute. 
 
 The sage Ebon Bonabbon was alarmed at this excited state 
 of his pupil. He saw him on the very brink of forbidden 
 knowledge the least hint might reveal to him the fatal secret. 
 Trembling for the safety of the prince, and the security of 
 his own head, he hastened to draw him from the seductions 
 of the garden, and shut him up in the highest tower of 
 the Generaliffe. It contained beautiful apartments, and com 
 manded an almost boundless prospect, but was elevated far 
 above that atmosphere of sweets and those witching bowers so 
 dangerous to the feelings of the too susceptible Ahmed. 
 
LEGEND OF PRIXCE A1UI1W AL KAMEL. 133 
 
 What was to be done, however, to reconcile Mm to this 
 restraint and to beguile the tedious hours? He had exhausted 
 almost all kinds of agreeable knowledge; and algebra was 
 not to be mentioned. Fortunately Ebon Bonabbon had been 
 instructed, when in Egypt, in the language of birds, by a 
 Jewish Babbin, who had received it in lineal transmission 
 from Solomon the wise, who had been taught it by the Queen 
 of Sheba. At the very mention of such a study the eyes of 
 the prince sparkled with animation, and he applied himself 
 to it with such avidity, that he soon became as great an adept 
 as his master. 
 
 The tower of the Generaliff e was no longer a solitude ; he 
 had companions at hand with whom he could converse. The 
 first acquaintance he formed was with a hawk who had built 
 his nest in a crevice of the lofty battlements, from whence he 
 soared far and wide in quest of prey. The prince, however, 
 found little to like or esteem in him. He was a mere pirate 
 of the air, swaggering and boastful, whose talk was all about 
 rapine, and carnage, and desperate exploits. 
 
 His next acquaintance was an owl, a mighty wise-looking 
 bird, with a large head and staring eyes, who sat blinking 
 and goggling all day in a hole in the wall, but roamed forth at 
 night. He had great pretensions to wisdom ; talked something 
 of astrology and the moon, and hinted at the dark sciences, 
 but he was grievously given to metaphysics, and the prince 
 found his prosings were more ponderous than those of the 
 sage Ebon Bonabbon. 
 
 Then there was a bat, that hung all day by his heels in the 
 dark corner of a vault, but sallied out in a slip-shod style at 
 twilight. He, however, had but twilight ideas on all subjects, 
 derided things of which he had taken but an imperfect view, 
 and seemed to take delight in nothing. 
 
 Beside these there was a swallow, with whom the prince 
 was at first much taken. He was a smart talker, but restless, 
 bustling, and for ever on the wing; seldom remaining long 
 enough for any continued conversation. He turned out in the 
 end to be a mere smatterer, who did but skim over the surface 
 of things, pretending to know every thing, but knowing noth 
 ing thoroughly. 
 
 These were the only feathered associates with whom the 
 prince had any opportunity of exercising his newly acquired 
 language ; the tower was too high for any other birds to fre 
 quent it. He soon grew weary of his new acquaintances 
 
134 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 whose conversation spake so little to the head and nothing to 
 the heart ; and gradually relapsed into his loneliness. A win 
 ter passed away, spring opened with all its bloom, and 
 verdure, and breathing sweetness, and the happy time arrived 
 for birds to pair and build their nests. Suddenly, as it were, 
 a universal burst of song and melody broke forth from the 
 groves and gardens of the Generalise, and reached the prince 
 in the solitude of his tower. From every side he heard the 
 same universal theme love love love chaunted forth and 
 responded to in every variety of note and tone. The prince 
 listened in silence and perplexity. " What can be this love," 
 thought he, of which the world seems so full, and of which 1 
 know nothing?" He applied for information to his friend the 
 hawk. The ruffian bird answered in a tone of scorn, "You 
 must apply," said he, " to the vulgar, peaceable birds of earth, 
 who are made for the prey of us princes of the air. My trade 
 is war, and fighting my delight. In a word, I am a warrior, 
 and know nothing of this thing called love. " 
 
 The prince turned from him with disgust, and sought the 
 owl in his retreat. "This is a bird," said he, "of peaceful 
 habits, and maybe able to solve my question." So he asked 
 the owl to tell him what was this love about which all the birds 
 in the groves below were singing. 
 
 Upon this the owl put on a look of offended dignity. " My 
 nights," said he, " are taken up in study and research, and my 
 days in ruminating in myself upon all that I have learnt. As 
 to these singing birds of whom you talk, I never listen to them. 
 I despise them and their themes. Allah be praised, I cannot 
 sing. In a word, I am a philosopher, and know nothing of 
 this thing called love." 
 
 The prince now repaired to the vault where his friend the 
 bat was hanging by the heels, and propounded the same ques 
 tion. The bat wrinkled up his nose into a most snappish ex 
 pression. Why do you disturb me in my morning s nap 
 with such an idle question," said he peevishly. "I only fly 
 by twilight when all birds are asleep, and never trouble myself 
 with their concerns. I am neither bird nor beast, and I thank 
 heaven for it. I have found out the villainy of the whole of 
 them, and hate them, one and all. In a word, I am a mis 
 anthrope, and know nothing of this thing called love." 
 
 As a last resort, the prince was now sought the swallow, and 
 stopped him just as he was circling about the summit of the 
 tower. The swallow as usual was in a prodigious hurry, and 
 
LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 135 
 
 had scarce time to make a reply. " Upon my word," said he, 
 " I have so much public business to attend to, and so many 
 pursuits to follow, that I have had no time to think on the 
 subject. I have every day a thousand visits to pay ; a thou 
 sand affairs of importance to examine into, that leave me not a 
 moment of leisure for these little sing-song matters. In a 
 word, I am a citizen of the world. I know nothing of this 
 thing called love." So saying, the swallow dived into the 
 valley and was out of sight in a moment. 
 
 The prince remained disappointed and perplexed, but with 
 his curiosity still more piqued by the difficulty of gratifying it. 
 While in this mood his ancient guardian entered the tower. 
 The prince advanced eagerly to meet him. "Oh sage Ebon 
 Bonabbon," cried he, " thou hast revealed to me much of the 
 wisdom of the earth, but there is one thing of which I remain 
 in Butter ignorance, and would fain be informed." 
 
 "My prince has but to make the inquiry, and everything 
 within the limited range of his servant s intellect is at his com 
 mand." 
 
 "Tell me then, oh most profound of sages, what is the na 
 ture of this thing called love?" 
 
 The sage Ebon Bonabbon was struck as with a thunderbolt 
 He trembled and turned pale, and felt as if his head sat but 
 loosely on his shoulders. 
 
 " What could suggest such a question to my prince? -where 
 could he have learnt so idle a word?" 
 
 The prince led him to the window of the tower. " Listen 
 oh Ebon Bonabbon !" said he. The sage listened. The night 
 ingale sat in a thicket below the tower singing to his paramour 
 the rose; from every blossomed spray and tufted grove arose 
 a strain of melody, and love love -love, was still the unvary^ 
 ing theme. "Allah Achbar! God is great!" exclaimed the 
 wise Bonabbon. " Who shall pretend to keep this secret from 
 the hearts of men when even the birds of the air conspire to 
 betray it?" 
 
 Then turning to Ahmed, " Oh my prince," cried he, "shut 
 thine ears to these seductive strains. Close thy mind against 
 .his dangerous knowledge. Know that this love is the cause 
 the ills of wretched mortality. It is this which pro- 
 luces bitterness of strife between brethren and friends; Which 
 causes treacherous murder and desolating war. Care and sor 
 row, weary days and sleepless nights, are its attendants It 
 withers the bloom and blights the joys of youth, and brings 
 
136 TUB ALHAMBRA. 
 
 on the ills and griefs of premature old age. Allah preserve 
 thee, my prince, in total ignorance of this thing called love !" 
 
 The sage Ebon Bonabbon hastily retired, leaving the prince 
 plunged in still deeper perplexity. It was in vain he at 
 tempt ed to dismiss the subject from his mind; it still con 
 tinued uppermost in his thoughts, and teased and exhausted 
 him with vain conjectures. " Surely ," said he to himself as 
 he listened to the tuneful strains of the birds, "there is no 
 sorrow in these notes : every thing seems tenderness and joy. 
 If love be a cause of such wretchedness and strife, why are 
 not those birds drooping in solitude, or tearing each other in 
 pieces, instead of fluttering cheerfully about the groves, or 
 sporting with each other among the flowers?" 
 
 He lay one morning on his couch meditating on this in 
 explicable matter. The window of his chamber was open to 
 admit the soft morning breeze which came laden with the per 
 fume of orange blossoms from the valley of the Darro. The 
 voice of the nightingale was faintly heard, still chanting the 
 wonted theme. As the prince was listening and sighing, there 
 was a sudden rushing noise in the air ; a beautiful dove, pur 
 sued by a hawk, darted in at the window and fell panting on 
 the floor ; while the pursuer, balked of his prey, soared off to 
 the mountains. 
 
 The prince took up the gasping bird, smoothed its feathers, 
 and nestled it in his bosom. When he had soothed it by his 
 caresses he put it in a golden cage, and offered it, with his 
 own hands, the whitest and finest of wheat and the purest of 
 water. The bird, however, refused food, and sat drooping and 
 pining, and uttering piteous moans. 
 
 "What aileth thee?" said Ahmed. "Hastthou not every 
 thing thy heart can wish?" 
 
 "Alas, no!" replied the dove, " am I not separated from the 
 partner of my heart and that too in the happy .spring-time 
 the very season of love?" 
 
 " Of love!" echoed Ahmed. " I pray thee, my pretty bird, 
 canst thou then tell me what is love?" 
 
 " Too well can I, my prince. It is the torment of one, the 
 felicity of two, the strife and enmity of three. It is a charm 
 which draws two beings together, and unites them by delicious 
 sympathies, making it happiness to be with each other, but 
 misery to be apart. Is there no being to whom you are drawn 
 by these ties of tender affection?" 
 
 I like my old teacher, Ebon Bonabbon, better than any 
 
LEO END OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 137 
 
 other being; but he is often tedious, and I occasionally feel 
 myself happier without his society. " 
 
 "That is not the sympathy I mean. I speak of love, the 
 great mystery and principle of life ; the intoxicating revel of 
 youth ; the sober delight of age. Look forth my prince, and 
 behold how at this blest season all nature is full of love. Every 
 created being has its mate ; the most insignificant bird sings to 
 its paramour ; the very beetle woos its lady beetle in the dust, 
 and yon butterflies which you see fluttering high above the 
 tower and toying in the air are happy in each other s love. 
 Alas, my prince ! hast thou spent so many of the precious days 
 of youth without knowing any thing of love ! Is there no gen 
 tle being of another sex ; no beautiful princess, or lovely damsel 
 who has ensnared your heart, and filled your bosom with a 
 soft tumult of pleasing pains and tender wishes?" 
 
 " I begin to understand!" said the prince sighing. " Such a 
 tumult I have more than once experienced without knowing 
 the cause ; and where should I seek for an object such as you 
 describe in this dismal solitude?" 
 
 A little further conversation ensued, and the first amatory 
 lesson of the prince \^as complete. 
 
 "Alas!" said he, "if love be indeed such a delight, and its 
 interruption such a misery, Allah forbid that I should mar the 
 joy of any of its votaries." He opened the cage, took out the 
 dove, and, having fondly kissed it, carried it to the window. 
 "Go, happy bird," said he, "rejoice with the partner of thy 
 heart in the days of youth and spring-time. Why should I 
 make thee a fellow prisoner in this dreary tower, where love 
 can never enter?" 
 
 The dove flapped its wings in rapture, gave one vault into 
 the air, and then swooped downward on whistling wings to 
 the blooming bowers of the Darro. 
 
 The prince followed him with his eyes, and then gave way to 
 bitter repining. The singing of the birds which once delighted 
 him now added to his bitterness. Love! love! lovel! Alas, 
 poor youth, he now understood the strain. 
 
 His eyes flashed fire when next he beheld the sage Bonab- 
 bon. "Why hast thou kept me in this abject ignorance?" 
 cried he. "Why has the great mystery and principle of life 
 been withheld from me, in which I find the meanest insect is 
 so learned? Behold all nature is in a revel of delight. Every 
 created being rejoices with its mate. This this is the love 
 about which I have sought instruction ; why am I alone de- 
 
138 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 barred its enjoyment? why hast so much of my youth been 
 wasted without a knowledge of its rapture?" 
 
 The sage Bonabbon saw that all further reserve was use 
 less, for the prince had acquired the dangerous and forbidden 
 knowledge. He revealed to him, therefore, the predictions 
 of the astrologers, and the precautions that had been taken 
 in his education to avert the threatened evils. And now, 
 my prince," added he, "my life is in your hands. Let the 
 king your father discover that you have learned the passion 
 of love while under my guardianship, and my head must an 
 swer for it." 
 
 The prince was as reasonable as most young men of his age, 
 and easily listened to the remonstrances of his tutor, since 
 nothing pleaded against them. Beside, he really was at 
 tached to the sage Bonabbon, and being as yet but theoreti 
 cally acquainted with the passion of love, he consented to 
 confine the knowledge of it co his own bosom, rather than 
 endanger the head of the philosopher. His discretion was 
 doomed, however, to be put to still further proofs. A few 
 mornings afterwards, as he was ruminating on the battle 
 ments of the tower, the dove which had been released by him 
 came hovering in the air, and alighted fearlessly upon his 
 shoulder. 
 
 The prince fondled it to his breast. " Happy bird," said he, 
 "who can fly, as it were, with the wings of the morning to 
 the uttermost parts of the earth. Where hast thou been since 
 we parted?" 
 
 "In a far country, my prince; from whence I bring you 
 tidings in reward for my liberty. In the wide compass of my 
 flight, which extends over plain and mountain, as I was soar 
 ing in the air, I beheld below me a delightful garden with all 
 kinds of fruits and flowers. It was in a green meadow on 
 the banks of a meandering stream, and in the centre of the 
 garden was a stately palace. I alighted in one 01 the bowers 
 to repose after my weary flight ; on the green bank below me 
 was a youthful princess in the very sweetness and bloom of 
 her years. She was surrounded by female attendants, young 
 like herself, who decked her with garlands and coronets of 
 flowers ; but no flower of field or garden could compare with 
 her for loveliness. Here, however, she bloomed in secret, for 
 the garden was surrounded by high walls, and no mortal man 
 was permitted to enter. When I beheld this beauteous maid 
 thus young, and innocent, and unspotted by the world, I 
 
LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 139 
 
 thought, here is the being formed by heaven to inspire my 
 prince with love. " 
 
 The description was as a spark of fire to the combustible 
 heart of Ahmed ; all the latent amorousness of his tempera 
 ment had at once found an object, and he conceived an 
 immeasurable passion for the princess. He wrote a letter 
 couched in the most impassioned language, breathing his fer 
 vent devotion, but bewailing the unhappy thraldom of his per 
 son, which prevented him from seeking her out, and throwing 
 himself at her feet. He added couplets of the most tender 
 and moving eloquence, for he was a poet by nature and in 
 spired by love. He addressed his letter, "To the unknown 
 beauty, from the captive prince Ahmed," then perfuming it 
 with musk and roses, he gave it to the dove. 
 
 Away, trustiest of messengers, " said he. Fly over moun 
 tain, and valley, and river, and plain; rest not in bower nor 
 set foot on earth, until thou hast given this letter to the mis 
 tress of my heart." 
 
 The dove soared high in air, and taking his course darted 
 away in one undeviating direction. The prince followed him 
 with his eye until he was a mere speck on a cloud, and grad 
 ually disappeared behind a mountain. 
 
 Day after day he -watched for the return of the messenger 
 of love; but he watched in vain. He began to accuse him of 
 forgetfulness, when towards sunset, one evening, the faithful 
 bird fluttered into his apartment, and, falling at his feet, ex 
 pired. The arrow of some wanton archer had pierced his 
 breast, yet he had struggled with the lingerings of life to exe 
 cute his mission. As the prince bent with grief over this 
 gentle martyr to fidelity, he beheld a chain of pearls round 
 his neck, attached to which, beneath his wing, was a small 
 enamelled picture. It represented a lovely princess in the 
 very flower of her years. It was, doubtless, the unknown 
 beauty of the garden : but who and where was she how had 
 she received his letter and was this picture sent as a token 
 of an approval of his passion? Unfortunately, the death of 
 the faithful dove left every thing in mystery and doubt. 
 
 The prince gazed on the picture till his eyes swam with 
 tears. He pressed it to his lips and to his heart: he sat for 
 hours contemplating it in an almost agony of tenderness. 
 "Beautiful image!" said he. "Alas, thou art but an image. 
 Yet thy dewy eyes beam tenderly upon me ; those rosy lips 
 look as though they would speak encouragement. Vain fan- 
 
140 THE A LH AMUR A. 
 
 cies ! Have they not looked the same on some more happy 
 rival? But where in this wide world shall I hope to find the 
 original? Who knows what mountains, what realms may 
 separate us? What adverse chance may intervene? Perhaps 
 now, even now, lovers may be crowding around her, while I 
 sit here, a prisoner in a tower, wasting my time in adoration 
 of a painted shadow." 
 
 The resolution of prince Ahmed was taken. " I will fly from 
 this palace," said he, "which has become an odious prison, and, 
 a pilgrim of love, will seek this unknown princess throughout 
 the world." 
 
 To escape from the tower in the day, when every one was 
 awake, might be a difficult matter; but at night the palace 
 was slightly guarded, for no one apprehended any attempt of 
 the kind from the prince, who had always been so passive in 
 his captivity. How was he to guide himself, however, in his 
 darkling flight, being ignorant of the country? He bethought 
 him of the owl, who was accustomed to roam at night, and 
 must know every by-lane and secret pass. Seeking him in his 
 hermitage, he questioned him touching his knowledge of the 
 land. Upon this the owl put on a mighty self-important look. 
 
 " You must know, O prince," said he, "that we owls are of 
 a very ancient and extensive family, though rather fallen to 
 decay, and possess ruinous castles and palaces in all parts of 
 Spain. There is scarcely a tower of the mountains, or fortress 
 of the plains, or an old citadel of a city but has some brother, 
 or uncle, or cousin quartered in it; and in going the rounds 
 to visit these my numerous kindred 1 have pryed into every 
 nook and corner, and made myself acquainted with every 
 secret of the land." 
 
 The prince was overjoyed to find the owl so deeply versed 
 in topography, and now informed him, in confidence, of his 
 tender passion and his intended elopement, urging him to be 
 his companion and counsellor. 
 
 "Go to!" said the owl, with a look of displeasure. "Am I 
 a bird to engage in a love affair ; I whose whole time is devoted 
 to meditation and the moon !" 
 
 "Be not offended, most solemn owl!" replied the prince. 
 "Abstract thyself for a time from meditation and the moon, 
 and aid me in my flight, and thou shalt have whatever heart 
 an wish." 
 
 "I have that already," said the owl. "A few mice are suffi 
 cient for my frugal table, and this hole in the wall is spacious 
 
LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 141 
 
 enough for my studies, and what more does a philosopher like 
 myself desire?" 
 
 Bethink thee, mo.ot wise owl, that while moping in thy cell 
 and gazing at the moon all thy talents are lost to the world. I 
 shall one day be a sovereign prince, and may advance thee to 
 some post of honour and dignity." 
 
 The owl, though a philosopher and above the ordinary 
 wants of life, was not above ambition, so he was finally pre 
 vailed upon to elope with the prince, and be his guide and 
 Mantor in his pilgrimage. 
 
 The plans of a lover are promptly executed. The prince col 
 lected all his jewels, and concealed them about his person as 
 travelling funds. That very night he lowered himself by his 
 scarf from a balcony of the tower, clambered over the outer 
 walls of the Generaliffe, and, guided by the owl, made good his 
 escape before morning to the mountains. 
 
 He now held a council with his Mentor as to his future 
 course. 
 
 " Might I advise," said the owl, "I would recommend you 
 to repair to Seville. You must know that many years since I 
 was on a visit to an uncle, an owl of great dignity and power, 
 who lived in a ruined wing of the Alcazar .of that place. In 
 my hoverings at night over the city, I frequently remarked a 
 light burning in a lonely tower. At length I alighted on the 
 battlements, and found it to proceed from the lamp of an Ara 
 bian magician. He was surrounded by his magic books, and 
 on his shoulder was perched his familiar, an ancient raven, 
 who had come with him from Egypt. I became acquainted 
 with that raven, and owe to him a great part of the know< 
 ledge I possess. The magician is since dead, but the raven 
 still inhabits the tower, for these birds are of wonderful long 
 life. I would advise you, O prince, to seek that raven, for 
 he is a soothsayer and a conjuror, and deals in the black art, 
 for which all ravens, and especially those of Egypt, are re 
 nowned." 
 
 The prince was struck with the wisdom of this advice, and 
 accordingly bent his course towards Seville. He travelled 
 only in the night, to accommodate his companion, and lay by 
 during the day in some dark cavern or mouldering watch- 
 tower, fer the owl knew every hiding hole of the kind in the 
 country, and had a most antiquarian taste for ruins. 
 
 At length, one morning at day-break, they reached the city 
 of Seville, where the owl, who hated the glare and bustle of 
 
142 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 crowded streets, halted without the gate, and took up his 
 quarters in a hollow tree. 
 
 The prince entered the gate, and readily found the magic 
 tower, which rose above the houses of the city as a palm-tree 
 rises above the shrubs of the desert. It was, in fact, the same 
 tower know^n at the present day as the Giralda, the famous 
 Moorish tower of Seville. 
 
 The prince ascended by a great winding staircase to the 
 summit of the tower, where he found the cabalistic raven, an 
 old, mysterious, gray-headed bird, ragged in feather, with a 
 film over one eye that gave him the glare of a spectre. He 
 was perched on one leg, with his head turned on one side, and 
 poring with his remaining eye on a diagram described on the 
 pavement. 
 
 The prince approached him with the awe and reverence 
 naturally inspired by his venerable appearance and super 
 natural wisdom. " Pardon me, most ancient and darkly wise 
 raven, " exclaimed he, if for a moment I interrupt those 
 studies which are the wonder of the world. You behold before 
 you a votary of love, who would fain seek counsel how to ob 
 tain the object of his passion." 
 
 "In other words," said the raven, with a significant look, 
 "you seek to try my skill in palmistry. Come, show me your 
 hand, and let me decipher the mysterious lines of fortune." 
 
 "Excuse me," said the prince, "I come not to pry into the 
 decrees of fate, which are hidden by Allah from the eyes of 
 mortals. I am a pilgrim of love, and seek but to find a clue to 
 the object of my pilgrimage." 
 
 "And can you be at any loss for an object in amorous 
 Andalusia?" said the old raven, leering upon him with his 
 single eye. Above all, can you be at a loss in wanton Seville, 
 where black-eyed damsels dance the zambra under every 
 orange grove?" 
 
 The prince blushed, and was somewhat shocked at hearing 
 an old bird, with one foot in the grave, talk thus loosely. 
 "Believe me," said he gravely, "I am on none such light and 
 vagrant errand as thou dost insinuate. The black-eyed dam 
 sels of Andalusia who dance among the orange groves of the 
 Guadalquiver, are as naught to me. I seek one unknown but 
 immaculate beauty, the original of this picture, and I beseech 
 thee, most potent raven, if it be within the scope of thy ICQ^V^ 
 !iedge, or the reach of thy art, inform me where she may be 
 found." 
 
LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 143 
 
 The gray-headed raven was rebuked by the gravity of the 
 prince. "What know I," replied he dryly, "of youth and 
 beauty? My visits are to the old and withered, not the young 
 and fair. The harbinger of fate am I, who croak bodings of 
 death from the chimney top, and flap my wings at the sick 
 man s window. You must seek elsewhere for tidings of your 
 unknown beauty." 
 
 "And where am I to seek, if not among the sons of wisdom, 
 versed in the book of destiny? A royal prince am I, fated by 
 the stars, and sent on a mysterious enterprise, on which may 
 hang the destiny of empires." 
 
 When the raven heard that it was a matter of vast moment, 
 in which the stars took interest, he changed his tone and 
 manner, and listened with profound attention to the story of 
 the prince. When it was concluded, he replied, "Touching 
 this princess, I can give thee no information of myself, for my 
 flight is not among gardens or around ladies bowers ; but hie 
 thee to Cordova, seek the palm-tree of the great Abderahman, 
 which stands in the court of the principal mosque ; at the foot 
 of it you will find a great traveller, who has visited all coun 
 tries and courts, and been a favourite with queens and prin 
 cesses. He will give you tidings of the object of your 
 search." 
 
 "Many thanks for this precious information," said the 
 prince. "Farewell, most venerable conjuror." 
 
 "Farewell, pilgrim of love," said the raven dryly, and again 
 fell to pondering on the diagram. 
 
 The prince sallied forth from Seville, sought his fellow- 
 traveller the owl, who was still dozing in the hollow tree, and 
 set off for Cordova. 
 
 He approached it along hanging gardens, and orange and 
 citron groves overlooking the fair valley of the Guadalquiver. 
 When arrived at its gates, the owl flew up to a dark hole in 
 the wall, and the prince proceeded in quest of the palm-tree 
 planted in days of yore by the great Abderahman. It stood in 
 the midst of the great court of the Mosque, towering from 
 amidst orange and cypress trees. Dervises and Faquirs were 
 seated in groups under the cloisters of the court, and many of 
 the faithful were performing their ablutions at the fountains, 
 before entering the Mosque. 
 
 At the foot of the palm-tree was a crowd listening to the 
 words of one who appeared to be talking with great volubility. 
 This, said the prince to himself, must be the great traveller 
 
144 THE ALEAMBRA. 
 
 who is to give me tidings of the unknown princess. Me 
 mingled in the crowd, but was astonished to perceive that 
 they were all listening to a parrot, who, with his bright green 
 coat, pragmatical eye, and consequential topknot, had the air 
 of a bird on excellent terms with himself. 
 
 "How is this," said the prince to one of the bystanders, 
 " that so many grave persons can be delighted with the garrul 
 ity of a chattering bird?" 
 
 " You know not of whom you speak," said the other; " this 
 parrot is a descendant of the famous parrot of Persia, renowned 
 for his story-telling talent. He has all the learning of the East 
 at the tip of his tongue, and can quote poetry as fast as he can 
 talk. He has visited various foreign courts, where h has been 
 considered an oracle of erudition. He has been a universal 
 favourite also with the fair sex, who have a vast admiration 
 for erudite parrots that can quote poetry." 
 
 "Enough," said the prince, "I will have some private talk 
 with this distinguished traveller." 
 
 He sought a private interview, and expounded the nature of 
 his errand. He had scarcely mentioned it when the parrot 
 burst into a fit of dry rickety laughter, that absolutely brought 
 tears in his eyes. " Excuse my mirth," said he, " but the mere 
 mention of love always sets me laughing." 
 
 The prince was shocked at this ill-timed merriment. " Is 
 not love," said he, "the great mystery of nature, the secret 
 principle of life, the universal bond of sympathy?" 
 
 A fig s end !" cried the parrot, interrupting him. Pry thee 
 where hast thou learnt this sentimental jargon? Trust me, 
 love is quite out of vogue ; one never hears of it in the company 
 of wits and people of refinement." 
 
 The prince sighed as he recalled the different language of his 
 friend the dove. But this parrot, thought he, has lived about 
 court ; he affects the wit and the fine gentleman ; he knows 
 nothing of the thing called love. 
 
 Unwilling to provoke any more ridicule of the sentiment 
 which filled his heart, he now directed his inquiries to the 
 immediate purport of his visit. 
 
 "Tell me, "said he, "most accomplished parrot, thou who 
 hast every where been admitted to the most secret bowers of 
 beauty, hast thou in the course of thy travels met with the 
 original of this portrait?" 
 
 The parrot took the picture in his claw, turned his head from 
 side to side, and examined it curiously with either eye. " Upoi* 
 
LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 145 
 
 my honour, " said he, " a very pretty face; very pretty. But 
 then one sees so many pretty women in one s travels that one 
 can hardly but hold bless me ! now I look at it again sure 
 enough, this is the princess Aldegonda: how could I forget one 
 that is so prodigious a favourite with me?" 
 
 " The princess Aldegonda!" echoed the prince, "and where is 
 she to be found?" 
 
 "Softly softly," said the parrot, "easier to be found than 
 gained. She is the only daughter of the Christian king who 
 reigns at Toledo, and is shut up from the world until her 
 seventeenth birth-day, on account of some prediction of those 
 meddlesome fellows, the astrologers. You ll not get a sight of 
 her, no mortal man can see her. I was admitted to her pres 
 ence to entertain her, and I assure you, on the word of a parrot 
 who has seen the world, I have conversed with much sillier 
 princesses in my time." 
 
 "A word in confidence, my dear parrot," said the prince. 
 " I am heir to a kingdom, and shall one day sit upon a throne. 
 I see that you are a bird of parts and understood the word. 
 Help me to gain possession of this princess and I will advance 
 you to some distinguished post about court." 
 
 " With all my heart," said the parrot; " but let it be a sine 
 cure if possible, for we wits have a great dislike to labour." 
 
 Arrangements were promptly made ; the prince sallied forth 
 from Cordova through the same gate by which he had entered ; 
 called the owl down from the hole in the wall, introduced him 
 to his new travelling companion as a brother servant, and away 
 they set off on their journey. 
 
 They travelled much more slowly than accorded with the 
 impatience of the prince, but the parrot was accustomed to 
 high life, and did not like to be disturbed early in the morning. 
 The owl, on the other hand, was for sleeping at mid-day, and 
 lost a great deal of time by his long siestas. His antiquarian 
 taste also was in the way ; for he insisted on pausing and in 
 specting every ruin, and had long legendary tales to tell about 
 every old tower and castle in the country. The prince had 
 supposed that he and the parrot, being both birds of learning, 
 could delight in each other s society, but never had he been 
 more mistaken. They were eternally bickering. The one was 
 a wit, the other a philosopher. The parrot quoted poetry, was 
 critical on new readings, and eloquent on small points of eru 
 dition; the owl treated all such knowledge as trifling, and 
 relished nothing but metaphysics. Then the parrot would sing 
 
146 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 songs and repeat bon mots, and crack jokes upon his solemn 
 neighbour, and laugh outrageously at his own wit; all which 
 the owl considered a grievous invasion of his dignity, and 
 would scowl, and sulk, and swell, and sit silent for a whole day 
 together. 
 
 The prince heeded not the wranglings of his companions, 
 being wrapped up in the dreams of his own fancy, and the 
 contemplation of the portrait of the beautiful princess. In this 
 way they journeyed through the stern passes of the Sierra Mo- 
 rena, across the sunburnt plains of La Mancha and Castile, and 
 along the banks of the " Golden Tagus," which winds its wizard 
 mazes over one-half of Spain and Portugal. At length, they 
 came in sight of a strong city with walls and towers, built on 
 a rocky promontory, round the foot of which the Tagus circled 
 with brawling violence. 
 
 Behold," exclaimed the owl, "the ancient and renowned 
 city of Toledo ; a city famous .for its antiquities. Behold those 
 venerable domes and towers, hoary with time, and clothed 
 with legendary grandeur ; in which so many of my ancestors 
 have meditated 
 
 " Pish," cried the parrot, interrupting his solemn antiquarian 
 rapture, what have we to do with antiquities, and legends, 
 and your ancestors? Behold, what is more to the purpose, be 
 hold the abode of youth and beauty, behold, at length, oh 
 prince, the abode of your long sought princess." 
 
 The prince looked in the direction indicated by the parrot, 
 and beheld, in a delightful green meadow on the banks of the 
 Tagus, a stately palace rising from amidst the bowers of a 
 delicious garden. It was just such a place as had been de 
 scribed by the dove as the residence of the original of the pic 
 ture. He gazed at it with a throbbing heart: " Perhaps at 
 this moment," thought he, " the beautiful princess is sporting 
 beneath those shady bowers, or pacing with delicate step those 
 stately terraces, or reposing beneath those lofty roofs !" As he 
 looked more narrowly, he perceived that the walls of the gar 
 den were of great height, so as to defy access, while numbers 
 of armed guards patrolled around them. 
 
 The prince turned to the parrot! " Oh most accomplished of 
 birds," said he, " thou hast the gift of human speech. Hie 
 thee to yon garden ; seek the idol of my soul, and tell her that 
 prince Ahmed, a pilgrim of love, and guided by the stars, has 
 arrived in quest of her on the flowery banks of the Tagus. " 
 
 The parrot, proud of his embassy, flew away to the garden 
 
LEGEND OF PBINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 147 
 
 mounted above its lofty walls, and, after soaring for a time 
 over the lawns and groves, alighted on the balcony of a 
 pavilion that overhung the river. Here, looking in at the 
 casement, he beheld the princess reclining on a couch, with her 
 eyes fixed on a paper, while tears gently stole after each other 
 down her pallid cheek. 
 
 Pluming his wings for a moment, adjusting his bright green 
 coat, and elevating his topknot, the parrot perched himself 
 beside her with a gallant air ; then assuming a tenderness of 
 tone, 
 
 "Dry thy tears, most beautiful of princesses," said he, "I 
 come to bring solace to thy heart." 
 
 The princess was startled on hearing a voice, but turning 
 and sesing nothing but a little green-coated bird bobbing and 
 bowing before her: "Alas! what solace canst thou yield," 
 said she, " seeing thou art but a parrot?" 
 
 The parrot was nettled at the question. "I have consoled 
 many beautiful ladies in my time," said he; "but let that pass. 
 At present, I come ambassador from a royal prince. Know 
 that Ahmed, the prince of Granada, has arrived in quest of 
 thee, and is encamped even now on the flowery banks of the 
 Tagus." 
 
 The eyes of the beautiful princess sparkled at these werds, 
 even brighter than the diamonds in her coronet. " O sweetest 
 of parrots," cried she, "joyful indeed are thy tidings; for I 
 was faint, and weary, and sick almost unto death, with doubt 
 of the constancy of Ahmed. Hie thee back, and tell him that 
 the words of his letter are engraven in my heart, and his 
 poetry has been the food of my soul. Tell him, however, that 
 he must prepare to prove his love by force of arms ; to-morrow 
 is my seventeenth birth-day, when the king, my father, holds 
 a great tournament ; several princes are to enter the lists, and 
 my hand is to be the prize of the victor." 
 
 Tkt parrot again took wing, and, rustling through the groves, 
 flew back to where the prince awaited his return. The rapture 
 of Ahmed on finding the original of his adored portrait, and 
 finding her kind and true, can only be conceived by those 
 favoured mortals, who have had the good fortune to realize day 
 dreams, and turn shadows into substance. Still there was one 
 thing that alloyed his transport, this impending tournament. 
 In fact, the banks of the Tagus were already glittering with 
 arms, -and resounding with trumpets of the various knights, 
 who with proud retinues were prancing on towards Toledo to 
 
148 THE ALHAMBEA. 
 
 attend the ceremonial. The same star that had controlled the 
 destiny of the prince, had governed that of the princess, and 
 until her seventeenth birth-day, she had been slmt up from 
 the world, to guard her from the tender passion, -f he fame of 
 her charms, however, had been enhanced, rather than obscured 
 by this seclusion. Several powerful princes had contended for 
 her alliance, and her father, who was a king or wondrous 
 shrewdness, to avoid making enemies by showing partiality, 
 had referred them to the arbitrament of arms. Among the 
 rival candidates, were several renowned for strength and 
 prowess. What a predicament for the unfortunate Ahmed, 
 unprovided as he was with weapons, and unskilled in the exer 
 cises of chivalry. "Luckless prince that I ami* said he, "to 
 have been brought up in seclusion, under the eyt of a philoso 
 pher! of what avail are algebra and philosophy in affairs of 
 love ! alas, Ebon Bonabbon, why hast thou neglected to instruct 
 me in the management of arms?" Upon this the owl broke 
 silence prefacing his harangue with a pious ejaculation, or he 
 was a devout Mussulman : 
 
 "Allah Achbar! God is great, " exclaimed he, "in his 
 hands are all secret things, he alone governs the destiny of 
 princes ! Know, O prince, that this land is full of mysteries, 
 hidden from all but those who, like myself, can grope after 
 knowledge in the dark. Know that in the neighbouring moun 
 tains there is a cave, and in that cave there is an iron table, 
 and on that table lies a suit of magic armour, and beside that 
 table stands a spell-bound steed, which have been shut up there 
 for many generations." 
 
 The prince stared with wonder, while the owl blinking his 
 huge round eyes and erecting his horns proceeded : 
 
 Many years since, I accompanied my father to these parts 
 on a tour of his estates, and we sojourned in that cave, and 
 thus became I acquainted with the mystery. It is a tradition 
 in our family, which I have heard from my grandfather when 
 I was yet but a very little owlet, that this armour belonged to 
 a Moorish magician, who took refuge in this cavern when 
 Toledo was captured by the Christians, and died here, leaving 
 his steed and weapons under a mystic spell, never to be used 
 but by a Moslem, and by him only from sunrise to mid-day. 
 In that interval, whoever uses them, will overthrow every 
 opponent. " 
 
 Enough, let us seek this cave, " exclaimed Ahmed. 
 
 Guided by his legendary Mentor, the prince found the 
 
LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 149 
 
 cavern, which was in one of the wildest recesses of those rocky 
 cliffs which rose around Toledo ; none but the mousing eye of 
 an owl or an antiquary could have discovered the entrance to 
 it. A sepulchral lamp of everlasting oil shed a solemn light 
 through the place. On an iron table in the centre of the 
 cavern lay the magic armour, against it leaned the lance, and 
 beside it stood an Arabian steed, caparisoned for the field, but 
 motionless as a statue. The armour was bright and unsullied, 
 as it had gleamed in days of old; the steed in as good con 
 dition as if just from the pasture, and when Ahmed laid his 
 hand upon his neck, he pawed the ground and gave a loud 
 neigh of joy that shook the walls of the cavern. Thus pro 
 vided with horse to ride and weapon to wear, the prince de 
 termined to defy the field at the impending tourney. 
 
 The eventful morning arrived. The lists for the combat 
 were prepared in the Vega or plain just below the cliff-built 
 walls of Toledo. Here were erected stages and galleries for 
 the spectators, covered with rich tapestry and sheltered from 
 the sun by silken awnings. All the beauties of the land were 
 assembled in those galleries, while below pranced plumed 
 knights with their pages and esquires, among whom figured 
 conspicuously the princes who were to contend in the tourney. 
 All the beauties of the land, however, were eclipsed, when the 
 princess Aldegonda appeared in the royal pavilion, and for 
 the first time broke forth upon the gaze of an admiring world. 
 A murmur of wonder ran through the crowd at her transcend- 
 ant loveliness; and the princes who were candidates for her 
 hand merely on the faith of her reported charms, now felt ten 
 fold ardour for the conflict. 
 
 The princess, however, had a troubled look. The colour 
 came and went from her cheek, and her eye wandered with a 
 restless and unsatisfied expression over the plumed throng of 
 knights. The trumpets were about sounding for the encounter 
 when a herald announced the arrival of a stranger knight, and 
 Ahmed rode into the field. A steeled helmet studded with 
 gems rose above his turban; his cuirass was embossed with 
 gold ; his scimitar and dagger were of the workmanship of 
 Fay, and flamed with precious stones. A round shield was at 
 his shoulder, and in his hand he bore the lance of charmed 
 virtue. The caparison of his Arabian was richly embroidered, 
 and swept the ground; and the proud animal pranced and 
 snuffed the air, and neighed with joy at once more beholding 
 the array of arms. The lofty and graceful demeanour of the 
 
lf,0 THE ALII AM BRA. 
 
 prince struck every eye, and when his appellation was an 
 nounced, " The pilgrim of love," a universal flutter and agita 
 tion prevailed among the fair dames in the galleries. 
 
 When Ahmed presented himself at the lists, however, they 
 were closed against him ; none but princes, he was told, were 
 admitted to the contest. He declared his name and rank. Still 
 worse, he was a Moslem, and could not engage in a tourney 
 where the hand of a Christian princess was the prize. 
 
 The rival princes surrounded him with haughty and men 
 acing aspects, and one of insolent demeanour and Herculean 
 frame sneered at his light and youthful form, and scoffed at 
 his amorous appellation. The ire of the prince was roused ; he 
 defied his rival to the encounter. They took distance, wheeled, 
 and charged ; at the first touch of the magic lance the brawny 
 scoffer was tilted from his saddle. Here thy prince would have 
 paused, but alas ! he had to deal with a demoniac horse and 
 armour: once in action, nothing could control them. The 
 Arabian steed charged into the thickest of the throng: the 
 lance overturned every thing that presented ; the gentle prince 
 was carried pell-mell about the field, strewing it with high and 
 low, gentle and simple, and grieving at his own involuntary 
 exploits. The king stormed and raged at this outrage on his 
 subjects and his guests. He ordered out all his guards they 
 were unhorsed as fast as they came up. The king threw off his 
 robes, grasped buckler and lance, and rode forth to awe the 
 stranger with the presence of majesty itself. Alas, majesty 
 fared no better than the vulgar ; the steed and lance were no 
 respecters of persons : to the dismay of Ahmed, he was borne 
 full tilt against the king, and in a moment the royal heels were 
 in the air, and the crown was rolling in the dust. 
 
 At this moment the sun reached the meridian ; the magic 
 spell resumed its power. The Arabian steed scoured across the 
 plain, leaped the barrier, plunged into the Tagus, swam its 
 raging current, bore the prince, breathless and amazed, to the 
 cavern, and resumed his station like a statue beside the iron 
 table. The prince dismounted right gladly, and replaced the 
 armour, to abide the further decrees of fate. Then seating him 
 self in the cavern, he ruminated on the desperate state to 
 which this bedeviled steed and armour had reduced him. 
 Never should he dare to show his face at Toledo, after inflict 
 ing such disgrace upon its chivalry, and such an outrage on 
 its king. What, too, would the princess think of so rude and 
 riotous an achievement? Full of anxiety, he sent forth his 
 
LEOENL OF FRINGE AHMED AL KANEL. 151 
 
 winged messengers to gather tidings. The parrot resorted to 
 all the public places and crowded resorts of the city, and 
 soon returned with a world of gossip. All Toledo was in con 
 sternation. The princess had been borne off senseless to the 
 palace ; the tournament had ended in confusion ; every one was 
 talking of the sudden apparition, prodigious exploits, and 
 strange disappearance of the Moslem knight. Some pro 
 nounced him a Moorish magician ; others thought him a demon 
 who had assumed a human shape ; while others related tradi 
 tions of enchanted warriors hidden in the caves of the moun 
 tains, and thought it might be one of these, who had made a 
 sudden irruption from his den. All agreed that no mere ordi 
 nary mortal could have wrought such wonders, or unhorsed 
 such accomplished and stalwart Christian warriors. 
 
 The owl flew forth at night, and hovered about the dusky 
 city, perching on the roofs and chimneys. He then wheeled 
 his flight up to the royal palace, which stood on the rocky 
 summit of Toledo, and went prowling about its terraces and 
 battlements, eaves-dropping at every cranny, and glaring in 
 with his big goggling eyes at every window where there was a 
 light, so as to throw two or three maids of honour into fits. It 
 was not until the gray dawn began to peer above the moun 
 tains that he returned from his mousing expedition, and re 
 lated to the prince what he had seen. 
 
 " As I was prying about one of the loftiest towers of the pal 
 ace," said he, "I beheld through a casement a beautiful prin 
 cess. She was reclining on a couch, with attendants and phy 
 sicians around her, but she would none of their ministry and 
 relief. When they retired, I beheld her draw forth a letter 
 from her bosom, and read, and kiss it, and give way to loud 
 lamentations ; at which, philosopher as I am, I could not but 
 be greatly moved." 
 
 The tender heart of Ahmed was distressed at these tidings. 
 " Too true were thy words, oh sage Ebon Bonabbon!" cried he. 
 Care and sorrow, and sleepless nights are the lot of lovers. 
 Allah preserve the princess from the blighting influence of this 
 thing called love." 
 
 Further intelligence from Toledo corroborated the report of 
 the owl. The city was a prey to uneasiness and alarm. The 
 princess was conveyed to the highest tower of the palace, every 
 avenue to which was strongly guarded. In the mean time, a 
 devouring melancholy had seized upon her, of which no one 
 could divine the cause. She refused food, and turned a deaf 
 
152 
 
 ear to every consolation. The most skilful physicians had es 
 sayed their art in vain ; it was thought some magic spell had 
 been practised upon her, and the king made proclamation, de 
 claring that whoever should effect her cure, should receive the 
 richest jewel in the royal treasury. 
 
 When the owl, who was dozing in a corner, heard of this 
 proclamation, he rolled his large eyes and looked more mys 
 terious than ever. 
 
 "Allah Achbar!" exclaimed he. "Happy the man that 
 shall effect that cure, should he but know what to choose from 
 the royal treasury." 
 
 "What mean you, most reverend owl?" said Ahmed. 
 
 " Hearken, O prince, to what I shall relate. We owls, you 
 must know, are a learned body, and much given to .dark and 
 dusty research. During my late prowling at night about the 
 domes and turrets of Toledo, I discovered a college of antiqua 
 rian owls, who hold their meetings in a great vaulted tower 
 where the royal treasure is deposited. Here they were discuss 
 ing the forms and inscriptions, and designs of ancient gems ana 
 jewels, and of golden and silver vessels, heaped up in the trea 
 sury, the fashion of every country and age : but mostly they 
 were interested about certain reliques and talismans, that have 
 remained in the treasury since the time of Roderick the Goth. 
 Among these, was a box of shittim wood, secured by bands of 
 steel of oriental workmanship, and inscribed with mystic 
 characters known only to the learned few. This box and its 
 inscription had occupied the college for several sessions, and 
 had caused much long and grave dispute. At the time of my 
 visit, a very ancient owl, who had recently arrived from Egypt, 
 was seated on the lid of the box lecturing upon the inscription, 
 and proved from it, that the coffer contained the silken carpet 
 of the throne of Solomon the wise : which doubtless had been 
 brought to Toledo by the Jews, who took refuge there after the 
 downfall of Jerusalem." 
 
 When the owl had concluded his antiquarian harangue, the 
 prince remained for a time absorbed in thought. "I have 
 heard," said he, "from the sage Ebon Bonabbon, of the won 
 derful properties of that talisman, which disappeared at the 
 fall of Jerusalem, and was supposed to be lost to mankind. 
 Doubtless it remains a sealed mystery to the Christians of 
 Toledo. If I can get possession of that carpet, my fortune is 
 secure. " 
 
 The next day the prince laid aside his rich attire, and ar- 
 
LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 153 
 
 rayed himself in the simple garb of an Arab of the desert. He 
 dyed his complexion to a tawny hue, and no one could have 
 recognized in him the splendid warrior who had caused such 
 admiration and dismay at the tournament. With staff in 
 hand and scrip by his side, and a small pastoral reed, he re 
 paired to Toledo, and presenting himself at the gate of the 
 royal palace, announced himself as a candidate for the reward 
 offered for the cure of the princess, The guards would have 
 driven him away with blows : What can a vagrant Arab like 
 thyself pretend to do," said they, "in a case where the most 
 learned of the land have failed?" The king, however, over 
 heard the tumult, and ordered the Arab to be brought into his 
 presence. 
 
 " Most potent king," said Ahmed, " you behold before you a 
 Bedouin Arab, the greater part of whose life has been passed 
 in the solitudes of the desert. Those solitudes, it is well 
 known, are the haunts of demons and evil spirits, who beset 
 us poor shepherds in our lonely watchings, enter into and pos 
 sess our flocks and herds, and sometimes render even the 
 patient camel furious. Against these, our countercharm is 
 music ; and we have legendary airs handed down from genera 
 tion to generation, that we chant and pipe to cast forth these 
 evil spirits. I am of a gifted line, and possess this power in its 
 fullest force. If it be any evil influence of the kind that holds 
 a spell over thy daughter, I pledge my head to free her from 
 its sway." 
 
 The king, who was a man of understanding, and knew the 
 wonderful secrets possessed by the Arabs, was inspired with 
 hope by the confident language of the prince. He conducted 
 him immediately to the lofty tower secured by several doors, 
 in the summit of which was the chamber of the princess. The 
 windows opened upon a terrace with balustrades, commanding 
 a view over Toledo and all the surrounding country. The win 
 dows were darkened, for the princess lay within, a prey to a 
 devouring grief that refused all alleviation. 
 
 The prince seated himself on the terrace, and performed sev 
 eral wild Arabian airs on his pastoral pipe, which he had learnt 
 from his attendants in the Generalise at Granada. The prin 
 cess continued insensible, and the doctors, who were present, 
 Bhook their heads, and smiled with incredibility and contempt. 
 At length the prince laid aside the reed, and to a simple melody 
 chanted the amatory verses of the letter which had declared 
 his passion. 
 
154 THE ALUAMBRA. 
 
 The princess recognized the strain. A fluttering joy stole to 
 her heart ; she raised her head and listened ; tears rushed to 
 her eyes and streamed down her cheeks ; her bosom rose and 
 fell with a tumult of emotions. She would have asked for the 
 minstrel to be brought into her presence, but maiden coyness 
 held her silent. The king read her wishes, and at his com 
 mand Ahmed was conducted into the chamber. The lovers 
 were discreet : they but exchanged glances, yet those glances 
 spoke volumes. Never was triumph of music more complete. 
 The rose had returned to the soft cheek of the princess, the 
 freshness to her lip, and the dewy light to her languishing eye. 
 
 All the physicians present stared at each other with aston 
 ishment. The king regarded the Arab minstrel with admira 
 tion, mixt with awe. "Wonderful youth," exclaimed he, 
 "thou shalt henceforth be the first physician of my court, 
 and no other prescription will I take but thy melody. For the 
 present, receive thy reward, the most precious jewel in my 
 treasury." 
 
 "O king," replied Ahmed, " I care not for silver, or gold, or 
 precious stones. One relique hast thou in thy treasury, handed 
 down from tlie Moslems who once owned Toledo. A box of 
 sandal wood containing a silken carpet. Give me that box, 
 and I am content." 
 
 All present were surprised at the moderation of the Arab ; 
 and still more, when the box of sandal wood was brought and 
 the carpet drawn forth. It was of fine green silk, covered 
 with Hebrew and Chaldaic characters. The court physicians 
 looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and smiled at 
 the simplicity of this new practitioner, who could be content 
 with so paltry a fee. 
 
 "This carpet," said the prince, " once covered the throne of 
 Solomon the wise ; it is worthy of being placed beneath the feet 
 of beauty." 
 
 So saying, he spread it on the terrace beneath an ottoman 
 that had been brought forth for the princess; then seating 
 himself at her feet, 
 
 "Who," said he, "shall counteract what is written in the 
 book of fate? Behold the prediction of the astrologers verified. 
 Know, oh king, that your daughter and I have long loved each 
 other in secret. Behold in me the pilgrim of love. " 
 
 These words were scarcely from his lips, when the carpet 
 rose in the air, bearing off the prince and princess. The king 
 and the physicians gazed after it with open mouths and strain- 
 
LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 
 
 ing eyes, until it became a little speck on the white bosom of a 
 cloud, and then disappeared in the blue vault of heaven. 
 
 The king in a rage summoned his treasurer. How is this, " 
 said he, that thou hast suffered an infidel to get possession of 
 such a talisman?" 
 
 "Alas! sire, we knew not its nature, nor could we decipher 
 the inscription of the box. If it be indeed the carpet of the 
 throne of the wise Solomon, it is possessed of magic power, 
 and can transport its owner from place to place through the 
 air." 
 
 The king assembled a mighty army, and set off for Granada 
 in pursuit of the fugitives. His march was long and toilsome. 
 Encamping in the Vega, he sent a herald to demand restitu 
 tion of his daughter. The king himself came forth with all 
 his court to meet him. In the king, he beheld the Arab min 
 strel, for Ahmed had succeeded to the throne on the death of 
 his father, and the beautiful Aldegonda was his Sultana, 
 
 The Christian king was easily pacified, when he found that 
 his daughter was suffered to continue in her faith : not that he 
 was particularly pious ; but religion is always a point of pride 
 and etiquette with princes. Instead of bloody battles, there 
 was a succession of feasts and rejoicings ; after which, the king 
 returned well pleased to Toledo, and the youthful couple con 
 tinued to reign as happily as wisely, in the Alhambra. 
 
 It is proper to add, that the owl and the parrot had severally 
 followed the prince by easy stages to Granada: the former 
 travelling by night, and stopping at the various hereditary 
 possessions of his family ; the latter figuring in the gay circles 
 of every town and city on his route. 
 
 Ahmed gratefully requited the services which they had ren 
 dered him on his pilgrimage. He appointed the owl his prime 
 minister ; the parrot his master of ceremonies. It is needless 
 to say that never was a realm more sagely administered, or a 
 court conducted with more exact punctilio. 
 
156 THE A LH AM BRA. 
 
 THE LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE PAGE AND THE GER-FALCON. 
 
 FOR some time after the surrender of Granada by the Moors, 
 that delightful city was a trequent and favourite residence of 
 the Spanish sovereigns, until they were frightened away by 
 successive shocks of earthquakes, which toppled down various 
 houses and made the old Moslem towers rock to their founda 
 tion. 
 
 Many, many years then rolled away, during which Granada 
 was rarely honoured by a royal guest. The palaces of the 
 nobility remained silent and shut up; and the Alhambra, like 
 a slighted beauty, sat in mournful desolation among her 
 neglected gardens. The tower of the Infantas, once the resi 
 dence of the three beautiful Moorish princesses, partook of the 
 general desolation; and the spider spun her web athwart the 
 gilded vault, and bats and owls nestled in those chambers that 
 had been graced by the presence of Zayda, Zorayda, and Zora- 
 hayda. The neglect of the tower may partly have been owing 
 to some superstitious notions of the neighbours. It was 
 rumoured that the spirit of the youthful Zorahayda, who had 
 perished in that tower, was often seen by moonlight, seated 
 beside the fountain in the hall, or moaning about the battle 
 ments, and that the notes of her silver lute would be heard at 
 midnight by wayfarers passing along the glen. 
 
 At length the city of Granada was once more enlivened by 
 the royal presence. All the world knows that Philip V. was 
 the first Bourbon that swayed the Spanish sceptre. All the 
 world knows that he married, in second nuptials, Elizabetta or 
 Isabella, (for they are the same,) the beautiful princess of Par 
 ma ; and all the world knows, that by this chain of contingen 
 cies, a French prince and an Italian princess were seated to 
 gether on the Spanish throne. For the reception of this illustri 
 ous pair, the Alhambra was repaired and fitted up with all pos 
 sible expedition. The arrival of the court changed the whole 
 aspect of the lately deserted place. The clangour of drum and 
 trumpet, the tramp of steed about the avenues and outer 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE ROXE OP THE ALHAMBRA. \Ffi 
 
 court, the glitter of arms and display of banners about barbi 
 can and battlement, recalled the ancient and warlike glories of 
 the fortress. A softer spirit, however, reigned within the royal 
 palace. There was the rustling of robes, and the cautious 
 tread and murmuring voice of reverential courtiers about the 
 antechambers ; a loitering of pages and maids of honour about 
 the gardens, and the sound of music stealing from open case 
 ments. 
 
 Among those who attended in the train of the monarchs, was 
 a favourite page of the queen, named Ruyz de Alarcon. To 
 say that he was a favourite page of the queen, was at once to 
 speak his eulogium, for every one in the suite of the stately 
 Elizabetta was chosen for grace, and beauty, and accomplish 
 ments. He was just turned of eighteen, light and little ot 
 form, and graceful as a young Antinous. To the queen he was 
 all deference and respect, yet he was at heart a roguish strip 
 ling, petted and spoiled by the ladies about the court, and 
 experienced in the ways of women tar beyond his years. 
 
 This loitering page was one morning rambling about the 
 groves of the Generalise, which overlook the grounds of the 
 Alhambra. He had taken with him for his amusement,, a 
 favourite ger-f alcon of the queen. In the course of his rambles, 
 seeing a bird rising from a thicket, he unhooded the hawk and 
 let him fly. The falcon towered high in the air, made a swoop 
 at his quarry, but missing it, soared away regardless of the calls 
 of the page. The latter followed the truant bird with his eye 
 in its capricious flight, until he saw it alight upon the battle 
 ments of a remote and lonely tower, in the outer wall of the 
 Alhambra, built on the edge of a ravine that separated the 
 royal fortress from the grounds of the G-eneraliffe. It was, in 
 fact, the "tower of the Princesses." 
 
 The page descended into the ravine, and approached the 
 tower, but it had no entrance from the glen, and its lofty height 
 rendered any attempt to scale it fruitless. Seeking one of the 
 gates of the fortress, therefore, he made a wide circuit to that 
 side of the tower facing within the walls. A small garden en 
 closed by a trellis-work of reeds overhung with myrtle lay before 
 the tower. Opening a wicket, the page passed between beds of 
 flowers and thickets of roses to the door. It was closed and 
 bolted. A crevice in the door gave him a peep into the interior. 
 There was a small Moorish hall with fretted walls, light mar 
 ble columns, and an alabaster fountain surrounded with flow 
 ers. In the centre hung a gilt cage containing a singing bird 
 
158 THE ALIIAMBRA. 
 
 beneath it, on a chair, lay a tortoise-shell cat among reels of 
 silk and other articles of female labour, and a guitar, decorated 
 with ribands, leaned against the fountain. 
 
 Ruyz de Alarcon was struck with these traces of female 
 taste and elegance in a lonely, and, as he had supposed 
 deserted tower. They reminded him of the tales of enchanted 
 "aalls, current in the Alhambra; and the tortoise-shell cat 
 .night be some spell -bound princess. 
 
 He knocked gently at the door, a beautiful face peeped out 
 from a little window above, but was instantly withdrawn. He 
 waited, expecting that the door would be opened; but he 
 waited in vain: no footstep was to be heard within, all was 
 silent. Had his senses deceived him, or was this beautiful ap 
 parition the fairy of the tower? He knocked again, and more 
 loudly. After a little while, the beaming face once more 
 peeped forth: it was that of a blooming damsel of fifteen. 
 
 The page immediately doffed his plumed bonnet, and 
 entreated in the most courteous accents to be permitted to 
 ascend the tower in pursuit of his falcon. 
 
 " I dare not open the door, Seiior," replied the little damsel 
 blushing; " my aunt has forbidden it." 
 
 "I do beseech you, fair maid; it is the favourite falcon of 
 tho queen; I dare not return to the palace without it." 
 "Are you, then, one of the cavaliers of the court?" 
 " I am, fair maid; but I shall lose the queen s favour and my 
 place if I lose this hawk." 
 
 "Santa Maria! It is against you cavaliers of the court that 
 my aunt has charged me especially to bar the door." 
 
 "Against wicked cavaliers, doubtless; but I am none of 
 those, but a simple, harmless page, who will be ruined and 
 undone if you deny me this small request." 
 
 The heart of the little damsel was touched by the distress of 
 the page. It was a thousand pities he should be ruined for the 
 want of so trifling a boon. Surely, too, he could not be one of 
 those dangerous beings whom her aunt had described as a spe 
 cies of cannibal, ever on the prowl to make prey of thought 
 less damsels; he was gentle and modest, and stood so entreat- 
 ingly with cap in hand, and looked so charming. The slj page 
 saw that the garrison began to waver, and redoubled his 
 entreaties in such moving terms, that it was not in the nature 
 of mortal maiden to deny him ; so, the blushing little warder 
 of the tower descended and opened the door with a trembling 
 hand ; and if the page had been charmed by a mere glimpse of 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 159 
 
 her countenance from the window, he was ravished by the 
 full-length portrait now revealed to him. 
 
 Her Andalusian bodice and trim basquina set off the round 
 but delicate symmetry of her form, which was as yet scarce 
 verging into womanhood. Her glossy hair was parted on her 
 forehead with scrupulous exactness, and decorated with a 
 fresh plucked rose, according to the universal custom of the 
 country. 
 
 It is true, her complexion was tinged by the ardour of a 
 southern sun, but it served to give richness to the mantling 
 bloom of her cheek, and to heighten the lustre of her melting 
 eyes. 
 
 Euyz de Alarcon beheld all this with a single glance, for it 
 became him not to tarry ; he merely murmured his acknow 
 ledgments, and then bounded lightly up the spiral staircase in 
 quest of his falcon. He soon returned with the truant bird 
 upon his fist. The damsel, in the mean time, had seated her 
 self by the fountain in the hall, and was winding silk ; but in 
 her agitation she let fall the reel upon the pavement. The 
 page sprang, picked it up, then dropping gracefully on one 
 knee, presented it to her, but, seizing the hand extended to 
 receive it, imprinted on it a kiss more fervent and devout 
 than he had ever imprinted on the fair hand of his sovereign. 
 
 "Ave Maria! Sefiorf exclaimed the damsel, blushing still 
 deeper with confusion and surprise, for never before had she 
 receive such a salutation. 
 
 The modest page made a thousand apologies, assuring her it 
 was the way, at court, of expressing the most profound hom 
 age and respect. 
 
 Her anger, if anger she felt, was easily pacified; but her 
 agitation and embarrassment continued, and she sat blushing 
 deeper and deeper, with her eyes cast down upon her work, 
 entangling the silk which she attempted to wind. 
 
 The cunning page saw the confusion in the opposite camp, 
 and would fain have profited by it, but the fine speeches he 
 would have uttered died upon his lips; his attempts at gal 
 lantry were awkward and ineffectual : and, to his surprise, the 
 adroit page who had figured with such grace and effrontery 
 among the most knowing and experienced ladies of the court, 
 found himself awed and abashed in the presence of a simple 
 damsel of fifteen. 
 
 In fact, the artless maiden, in her own modesty and inno 
 cence, had guardians more effectual than the bolts and bars 
 
160 TU-E ALUAMBRA. 
 
 prescribed by her vigilant aunt. Still, where is the female 
 bosom proof against the first whisperings of love? The little 
 damsel, with all her artlessness, instinctively comprehended all 
 that the faltering tongue of the page failed to express, and her 
 heart was fluttered at beholding, for the first time, a lover at 
 her feet and such a lover ! 
 
 The diffidence of the page, though genuine, was short-lived, 
 and he was recovering his usual ease and confidence, when a 
 shrill voice was heard at a distance. 
 
 "My aunt is returning from mass!" cried the damsel in 
 affright. "I pray you, Senor, depart." 
 
 Not until you grant me that rose from your hair as a re 
 membrance. " 
 
 She hastily untwisted the rose from her raven locks. " Take 
 it," cried she, agitated and blushing, "but pray begone." 
 
 The page took the rose, and at the same time covered with 
 kisses the fair hand that gave it. Then placing the flower in 
 his bonnet, and taking the falcon upon his fist, he bounded off 
 through the garden, bearing away with him the heart of the 
 gentle Jacinta. 
 
 When the vigilant aunt arrived at the tower, she remarked 
 the agitation of her niece, and an air of confusion in the hall ; 
 but a word of explanation sufficed. "A ger-falcon had pur 
 sued his prey into the hall." 
 
 " Mercy on us! To think of a falcon flying into the tower. 
 Did ever one hear of so saucy a hawk? Why, the very bird in 
 the cage is not safe." 
 
 The vigilant Fredegonda was one of the most wary of 
 ancient spinsters. She had a becoming terror and distrust of 
 what she denominated "the opposite sex," which had gradu 
 ally increased through a long life of celibacy. Not that the 
 good lady had ever suffered from their wiles ; nature having 
 set up a safeguard in her face, that forbade all trespass upon 
 her premises ; but ladies who have least cause to fear for them 
 selves, are most ready to keep a watch over their more tempt 
 ing neighbours. The niece was the orphan of an officer who 
 had fallen in the wars. She had been educated in a convent, 
 and had recently been transferred from her sacred asylum to 
 the immediate guardianship of her aunt; under whose over 
 shadowing care she vegetated in obscurity, like an opening 
 rose blooming beneath a briar. Nor, indeed, is this comparison 
 entirely accidental, for to tell the truth her fresh and dawning 
 beauty had caught the public eye, even in her seclusion, and. 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 161 
 
 with that poetical turn common to the people of Andalusia, 
 the peasantry of the neighbourhood had given her the appella 
 tion of " The Rose of the Alhambra." 
 
 The wary aunt continued to keep a faithful watch over her 
 tempting little niece as long as the court continued at Granada, 
 and flattered herself that her vigilance had been successful. It 
 is true, the good lady was now and then discomposed by the 
 tinkling of guitars, and chanting of love ditties from the moon 
 lit groves beneath the tower, but she would exhort her niece 
 to shut her ears against such idle minstrelsy, assuring her 
 that it was one of the arts of the opposite sex, by which simple 
 maids were often lured to their undoing ; alas, what chance 
 with a simple maid has a dry lecture against a moonlight 
 serenade ! 
 
 At length king Philip cut short his sojourn at Granada, and 
 suddenly departed with all his train. The vigilant Fredegonda 
 watched the royal pageant as it issued forth from the gate of 
 Justice, and descended the great avenue leading to the city. 
 When the last banner disappeared from her sight, she re 
 turned exulting to her tower, for all her cares were over. To 
 her surprise, a light Arabian steed pawed the ground at the 
 wicket gate of the garden to her horror she saw through the 
 thickets of roses, a youth, in gaily embroidered dress, at the 
 feet of her niece. At the sound of her footsteps he gave a 
 tender adieu, bounded lightly over the barrier of reeds and 
 myrtles, sprang upon his horse, and was out of sight in an in 
 stant. 
 
 The tender Jacinta in the agony of her grief lost all thought 
 of her aunt s displeasure. Throwing herself into her arms, she 
 broke forth into sobs and tears. 
 
 "Ay di mi!" cried she, "he is gone! he is gone! and I shall 
 never see him more." 
 
 "Gone! who is gone? what youth is this I saw at your feet?" 
 
 "A queen s page, aunt, who came to bid me farewell." 
 
 "A queen s page, child," echoed the vigilant Fredegonda 
 faintly, and when did you become acquainted with a queen s 
 page?" 
 
 "The morning that the ger-falcon flew into the tower. It 
 was the queen s ger-falcon, and he came in pursuit of it." 
 
 "Ah, silly, silly girl! know that there are no ger-falcons 
 half so dangerous as these prankling pages, and it is precisely 
 such simple birds as thee that they pounce upon. " 
 
 The aunt was at first indignant at learning that, in despite 
 
162 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 of her boasted vigilance, a tender intercourse had been carried 
 on by the youthful lovers, almost beneath her eye; but when 
 she found that her simple-hearted niece, though thus exposed, 
 without the protection of bolt or bar, to all the machinations 
 of the opposite sex, had come forth unsinged from the fiery 
 ordeal, she consoled herself with the persuasion that it was 
 owing to the chaste and cautious maxims in which she had, as 
 it were, steeped her to the very lips. 
 
 While the aunt laid this soothing unction to her pride, the 
 niece treasured up the oft-repeated vows of fidelity of the page. 
 But what is the love of restless, roving man? a vagrant stream 
 that dallies for a time with each flower upon its banks, then 
 passes on and leaves them all in tears. 
 
 Days, weeks, months elapsed, and nothing more was heard 
 of the page. The pomegranate ripened, the vine yielded up its 
 fruit, the autumnal rains descended in torrents from the 
 mountains; the Sierra Nevada became covered with a snowy 
 mantle, and wintry blasts howled through the halls of the Al- 
 hambra : still he came not. The winter passed away. Again 
 the genial spring burst forth with song, and blossoms, and 
 balmy zephyr; the snows melted from the mountains, until 
 none remained, but on the lofty summit of the Nevada, glisten 
 ing through the sultry summer air : still nothing was heard of 
 the forgetful page. 
 
 In the mean time, the poor little Jacinta grew pale and. 
 thoughtful. Her former occupations and amusements were 
 abandoned; her silk lay entangled, her guitar unstrung, her 
 flowers were neglected, the notes of her bird unheeded, and 
 her eyes, once so bright, were dimmed with secret weeping. 
 If any solitude could be devised to foster the passion of a love 
 lorn damsel, it would be such a place as the Alhambra, where 
 every thing seems disposed to produce tender and romantic 
 reveries. It is a very Paradise for lovers ; how hard then to be 
 alone in such a Paradise; and not merely alone, but for 
 saken. 
 
 " Alas, silly child!" would the staid and immaculate Frede- 
 gonda say, when she found her niece in one of her desponding 
 moods, "did I not warn thee against the wiles and deceptions 
 of these men? What couldst thou expect, too, from one of a 
 haughty and aspiring family, thou, an orphan, the descendant 
 of a fallen and impoverished line; be assured, if the youth 
 were true, his father, who is one of the proudest nobles about 
 the court, would prohibit his union with one so humble and 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE EOSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 163 
 
 portionless as thou. Pluck up thy resolution, therefore, and 
 drive these idle notions from thy mind." 
 
 The words of the immaculate Fredegonda only served to in 
 crease the melancholy of her niece, but she sought to indulge 
 it in private. At a late hour one midsummer night, after her 
 aunt had retired to rest, she remained alone in the hall of the 
 tower, seated beside the alabaster fountain. It was here that 
 the faithless page had first knelt and kissed her hand, it was 
 here that he had often vowed eternal fidelity. The poor little 
 damsel s heart was overladen with sad and tender recollections, 
 her tears began to flow, and slowly fell, drop by drop, into the 
 fountain. By degrees the crystal water became agitated, and, 
 bubble bubble bubble, boiled up, and was tossed about until 
 a female figure, richly clad in Moorish robes, slowly rose to 
 view. 
 
 Jacinta was so frightened, that she fled from the hall, and 
 did not venture to return. The next morning, she related 
 what she had seen to her aunt, but the good lady treated it as 
 a fantasy of her troubled mind, or supposed she had fallen 
 asleep and dreamt beside the fountain. "Thou hast been 
 thinking of the story of the three Moorish princesses that once 
 inhabited the tower," continued she, "and it has entered into 
 thy dreams. " 
 
 "What story, aunt? I know nothing of it." 
 
 "Thou hast certainly heard of the three princesses, Zayda, 
 Zorayda, and Zorahayda, who were confined in this tower by 
 the king their father, and agreed to fly with three Christian 
 cavaliers. The first two accomplished their escape, but the 
 third failed in resolution and remained, and it is said died in 
 this tower." 
 
 " I now recollect to have heard of it," said Jacinta, "and to 
 have wept over the fate of the gentle Zorahayda." 
 
 "Thou mayst well weep over her fate," continued the aunt, 
 "for the lever of Zorahayda was thy ancestor. He long be 
 moaned his Moorish love, but time cured him of his grief, and 
 he married a Spanish lady, from whom thou art descended." 
 
 Jacinta ruminated upon these words. That what I have 
 seen is no fantasy of the brain," said she to herself, "I am con 
 fident. If indeed it be the sprite of the gentle Zorahayda, 
 which I have heard lingers about this tower, of what should I 
 be afraid? I ll watch by the fountain to-night, perhaps the 
 visit will be repeated." 
 
 Towards midnight, when every thing was quiet, she again 
 
164 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 took her seat in the hall. As the bell on the distant watch- 
 tower of the Alhambra struck the midnight hour, the fountain 
 was again agitated, and bubble bubble bubble, it tossed 
 about the waters until the Moorish female again rose to view. 
 She was young and beautiful ; her dress was rich with jewels, 
 and in her hand she held a silver lute. Jacinta trembled and 
 was faint, but was reassured by the soft and plaintive voice 
 of the apparition, and the sweet expression of her pale melan 
 choly countenance. 
 
 "Daughter of Mortality," said she, " what aileth thee? Why 
 do thy tears trouble my fountain, and thy sighs and plaints 
 disturb the quiet watches of the night?" 
 
 " I weep because of the faithlessness of man; and I bemoan 
 my solitary and forsaken state. " 
 
 "Take comfort, thy sorrows may yet have an end. Thou 
 beholdest a Moorish princess, who, like thee, was unhappy in 
 her love. A Christian knight, thy ancestor, won my heart, 
 and would have borne me to his native land, and to the bosom 
 of his church. I was a convert in my heart, but I lacked cour 
 age equal to my faith, and lingered till too late. For this, the 
 evil genii are permitted to have power over me, and I remain 
 enchanted in this tower, until some pure Christian will deign 
 to break the magic spell. Wilt thou undertake the task?" 
 
 " I will!" replied the damsel, trembling. 
 
 " Come hither, then, and fear not: dip thy hand in the foun 
 tain, sprinkle the water over me, and baptize me after the 
 manner of thy faith ; so shall the enchantment be dispelled, 
 and my troubled spirit have repose. " 
 
 The damsel advanced with faltering steps, dipped her hand 
 in the fountain, collected water in the palm, and sprinkled it 
 over" the pale face of the phantom. 
 
 The latter smiled with ineffable benignity. She dropped her 
 silver lute at the feet of Jacinta, crossed her white arms upon 
 her bosom, and melted from sight, so that it seemed merely as 
 if a shower of dewdrops had fallen into the fountain. 
 
 Jacinta retired from the hall, filled with awe and wonder. 
 She scarcely closed her eyes that night, but when she awoke 
 at daybreak out of a troubled slumber, the whole appeared to 
 her like a distempered dream. On descending into the hall, 
 however, the truth of the vision was established; for, beside 
 the fountain she beheld the silver lute glittering in the morn 
 ing sunshine. 
 
 She hastened to her aunt, related all that had befallen her, 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 165 
 
 and called her to behold the lute as a testimonial of the reality 
 of her story. If the good lady had any lingering doubts, they 
 were removed when Jacinta touched the instrument, for she 
 drew forth such ravishing tones as to thaw even the frigid 
 bosom of the immaculate Fredegonda, that region of eternal 
 winter, into a genial flow. Nothing but supernatural melody 
 could have produced such an effect. 
 
 The extraordinary power of the lute became every day more 
 and more apparent. The wayfarer passing by the tower was 
 detained, and, as it were, spell-bound, in breathless ecstasy. 
 The very birds gathered in the neighbouring trees, and, hush 
 ing their own strains, listened in charmed silence. Rumour 
 soon spread the news abroad. The inhabitants of Granada 
 thronged to the Alhambra, to catch a few notes of the 
 transcendent music that floated about the tower of Las In 
 fantas. 
 
 The lovely little minstrel was at length drawn forth from 
 her retreat. The rich and powerful of the land contended who 
 should entertain and do honour to her; or rather, who should 
 secure the charms of her lute, to draw fashionable throngs to 
 their saloons. Wherever she went, her vigilant aunt kept a 
 dragon- watch at her elbow, awing the throngs of impassioned 
 admirers who hung in raptures on her strains. The report 
 of her wonderful powers spread from city to city: Malaga, 
 Seville, Cordova, all became successively mad on the theme; 
 nothing was talked of throughout Andalusia, but the beauti 
 ful minstrel of the Alhambra. How could it be otherwise 
 among a people so musical and gallant as the Andalusians, 
 when the kite was magical in its powers, and the minstrel 
 inspired by love. 
 
 While all Andalusia was thus music-mad, a different moo 1 
 prevailed at the court of Spain. Philip V., as is well known, 
 was a miserable hypochondriac, and subject to all kinds of 
 fancies. Sometimes he would keep to his bed for weeks 
 together, groaning under imaginary complaints. At other 
 times he would insist upon abdicating his throne, to the 
 great annoyance of his royal spouse, who had a strong relish 
 for the splendours of a court and the glories of a crown, and 
 guided the sceptre of her imbecile lord with an expert and 
 steady hand. 
 
 Nothing was found to be so efficacious in dispelling the 
 royal megrims as the powers of music; the queen took 
 care, therefore, to have the best performers, both vocal and 
 
166 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 instrumental, at hand, and retained the famous Italian singei 
 Farinelli about the court as a kind of royal physician. 
 
 At the moment we treat of, however, a freak had come over 
 the mind of this sapient and illustrious Bourbon, that sur 
 passed all former vagaries. After a long spell of imaginary 
 illness, which set all the strains of Farinelli, and the consul 
 tations of a whole orchestra of court fiddlers, at defiance, the 
 monarch fairly, in idea, gave up the ghost, and considered 
 himself absolutely dead. 
 
 This would have been harmless enough, and even convenient 
 both to his queen and courtiers, had he been content to remain 
 in the quietude befitting a dead man ; but, to their annoyance, 
 he insisted upon having the funeral ceremonies performed 
 over him, and, to their inexpressible perplexity, began to 
 grow impatient, and to revile bitterly at them for negli 
 gence and disrespect in leaving him unburied. What was to 
 be done? To disobey the king s positive commands was 
 monstrous in the eyes of the obsequious courtiers of a punc 
 tilious court, but to obey him, and bury him alive, would be 
 downright regicide ! 
 
 In the midst of this fearful dilemma, a rumour reached the 
 court of the female minstrel, who was turning the brains of all 
 Andalusia. The queen despatched missives in all haste, to 
 summon her to St. Ildefonso, where the court at that time 
 resided. 
 
 Within a few days, as the queen with her maids of honour 
 was walking in those stately gardens, intended, with their 
 avenues, and terraces, and fountains, to eclipse the glories of 
 Versailles, the far-famed minstrel was conducted, into her 
 presence. The imperial Elizabetta gazed with surprise at the 
 youthful and unpretending appearance of the little being that 
 had set the world madding. She was in her picturesque 
 Andalusian dress; her silver lute was in her hand, and she 
 stood with modest and downcast eyes, but with a simplicity 
 and freshness of beauty that still bespoke her "The Eose of 
 the Alhambra." 
 
 As usual, she was accompanied by the ever vigilant Frede- 
 gonda, who gave the whole history of her parentage and 
 descent to the inquiring queen. If the stately Elizabetta 
 had been interested by the appearance of Jacinta, she was 
 still more pleased when she learnt that she was of a meri 
 torious, though impoverished line, and that her father had 
 bravely fallen in the service of the crown. "If thj 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 167 
 
 equal their renown," said she, "and thou canst cast forth this 
 evil spirit that possesses thy sovereign, thy fortune shall 
 henceforth be my care, and honours and wealth attend thee." 
 
 Impatient to make trial of her skill, she led the way at once 
 to the apartment of the moody monarch. Jacinta followed 
 with downcast eyes through files of guards and crowds of 
 courtiers. They arrived at length at a great chamber hung in 
 black. The windows were closed, to exclude the light of day ; 
 a number of yellow wax tapers, in silver sconces, diffused a 
 lugubrious light, and dimly revealed the figures of mutes in 
 mourning dresses, and courtiers, who glided about with noise 
 less step and woe-begone visage. On the midst of a funeral 
 bed or bier, his hands folded on his breast, and the tip of his 
 nose just visible, lay extended this would-be-buried monarch. 
 
 The queen entered the chamber in silence, and, pointing to a 
 footstool in an obscure corner, beckoned to Jacinta to sit down 
 and commence. 
 
 At first she touched her lute with a faltering hand, but 
 gathering confidence and animation as she proceeded, drew 
 forth such soft, aerial harmony, that all present could scarce 
 believe it mortal. As to the monarch, who had already con 
 sidered himself in the world of spirits, he set it down for some 
 angelic melody, or the music of the spheres. By degrees the 
 theme was varied, and the voice of the minstrel accompanied 
 the instrument. She poured forth one ot the legendary bal 
 lads treating of the ancient glories of the Alhambra, and the 
 achievements of the Moors. Her whole soul entered into tho 
 theme, for with the recollections of the Albambra was associ 
 ated the story of her love ; the funereal chamber resounded 
 with the animating strain. It entered into the gloomy heart 
 of the monarch. He raised his head and gazed around ; he sat 
 up on his couch ; his eye began to kindle ; at length, leaping 
 upon the floor, he called for sword and buckler. 
 
 The triumph of music, or rather of the enchanted lute, was 
 I3omplete ; the demon of melancholy was cast forth ; and, as it 
 were, a dead man brought to life. The windows of the apark 
 ment were thrown open; the glorious effulgence of Spanish 
 sunshine burst into the late lugubrious chamber; all eyes 
 sought the lovely enchantress, but the lute had fallen from her 
 hand ; she had sunk upon the earth, and the next moment was 
 clasped to the bosom of Ruyz de Alarcon. 
 
 The nuptials of the happy couple were shortly after celebrated 
 mth great splendour, but hold, I hear the reader ask how did 
 
168 THE ALIIAMBRA. 
 
 Ruyz de Alarcon account for his long neglect? Oh, that was 
 all owing to the opposition of a proud pragmatical old father, 
 besides, young people, who really like one another, soon come 
 to an amicable understanding, and bury all past grievances 
 whenever they meet. 
 
 But how was the proud pragmatical old father reconciled to 
 the match? 
 
 Oh, his scruples were easily overruled by a word or two from 
 the queen, especially as dignities and rewards were showered 
 upon the blooming favourite of royalty. Besides, the lute of 
 Jacinta, you know, possessed a magic power, and could con 
 trol the most stubborn head and hardest heart. 
 
 And what became of the enchanted lute? 
 
 Oh, that is the most curious matter of all, and plainly proves 
 the truth of. all the story. That lute remained for some time 
 in the family, but was purloined and carried off, as was sup 
 posed, by the great singer Farinelli, in pure jealousy. At his 
 death it passed into other hands in Italy, who were ignorant of 
 its mystic powers, and melting down the silver, transferred the 
 strings to an old Cremona fiddle. The strings still retain some 
 thing of their magic virtues. A word in the reader s ear, but 
 let it go no further, that fiddle is now bewitching the whole 
 world, it is the fiddle of Paganini! 
 
 THE VETERAN. 
 
 AMONG the curious acquaintances I have made in my rambles 
 about the fortress, is a brave and battered old Colonel of In 
 valids, who is nestled like a hawk in one of the Moorish towers. 
 His history, which he is fond of telling, is a tissue of those 
 adventures, mishaps, and vicissitudes that render the life of 
 almost every Spaniard of note as varied and whimsical as the 
 pages of Gil Bias. 
 
 He was in America at twelve years of age, and reckons 
 among the most signal and fortunate events of his life, his hav 
 ing seen General Washington. Since then he has taken a part 
 in all the wars of his country ; he can speak experimentally of 
 most of the prisons and dungeons of the Peninsula, has been 
 lamed of one leg, crippled in his hand, and so cut up and car 
 bonadoed, that he is a kind of walking monument of the 
 troubles of Spain, on which there is a scar for every battle and 
 
THE VETERAN. 109 
 
 broil e as every year was notched upon the tree of Robinson 
 Crusoe. The greatest misfortune of the brave old cavalier, 
 however, appears to have been his having commanded at 
 Malaga during a time of peril and confusion, and been made a 
 general by the inhabitants to protect them from the invasion 
 of the French. 
 
 This has entailed upon him a number of just claims upon 
 government that I fear will employ him until his dying day in 
 writing and printing petitions and memorials, to the great dis 
 quiet of his mind, exhaustion of his purse, and penance of his 
 friends ; not one of whom can visit him without having to -listen 
 to a mortal document of half an hour in length, and to carry 
 away half a dozen pamphlets in his pocket. This, however, 
 is the case throughout Spain : every where you meet with some 
 worthy wight brooding in a corner, and nursing up some pet 
 grievance and cherished wrong. Beside, a Spaniard who has 
 a lawsuit, or a claim upon government, may be considered as 
 furnished with employment for the remainder of his life. 
 
 I visited the veteran in his quarters in the upper part of the 
 Terre del Vino, or Wine Tower. His room was small but snug, 
 and commanded a beautiful view of the Vega. It was arranged 
 with a soldier s precision. Three muskets and a brace of pistols, 
 all bright and shining, were suspended against the wall, with a 
 sabre and a cane hanging side by side, and above these two 
 cocked hats, one for parade, and one for ordinary use. A small 
 shelf, containing some half dozen books, formed his library, 
 one of which, a little old mouldy volume of philosophical 
 maxims, was his favourite reading. This he thumbed and 
 pondered over day by day ; applying every maxim to his own 
 particular case, provided it had a little tinge of wholesome bit 
 terness, and treated of the injustice of the world. 
 
 Yet he is social and kind-hearted, and, provided he can be 
 diverted from his wrongs and his philosophy, is an entertain^ 
 ing companion. I like these old weather-beaten sons of fortune, 
 and enjoy their rough campaigning anecdotes. In the course 
 of my visit to the one in question, I learnt some curious facts 
 about an old military commander of the fortress, who seems to 
 have resembled him in some respects, and to have had similar 
 fortunes in the wars. These particulars have been augmented 
 by inquiries among some of the old inhabitants of the place, 
 particularly the father of Mateo Ximenes, of whose traditional 
 stories the worthy I am about to introduce to the reader is a 
 favourite hero. 
 
J70 THE AL11AMJ3UA. 
 
 THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY. 
 
 In former times there ruled, as governor of the Alhambra, a 
 doughty old cavalier, who, from having lost one arm in the 
 wars, was commonly known by the name of El Gobernador 
 Manco, or the one-armed governor. He in fact prided himself 
 Upon being an old soldier, wore his mustachios curled up to his 
 eyes, a pair of campaigning boots, and a toledo as long as a spit, 
 with his pocket handkerchief in the basket-hilt. 
 
 He was, moreover, exceedingly proud and punctilious, and 
 tenacious of all his privileges and dignities. Under his sway, 
 the immunities of the Alhambra, as a royal residence and do 
 main, were rigidly exacted. No one was permitted to enter 
 the fortress with fire-arms, or even with a sword or staff, unless 
 he were of a certain rank, and every horseman was obliged to 
 dismount at the gate and lead his horse by the bridle. Now, 
 as the hill of the Alhambra rises from the very midst of the 
 city of Granada, being, as it were, an excrescence of the capi 
 tal, it must at all times be somewhat irksome to the captain- 
 general who commands the province, to have thus an imperium 
 in imperio, a petty independent post, in the very core of his 
 domains. It was rendered the more galling in the present 
 instance, from the irritable jealousy of the old governor, that 
 took fire on the least question of authority and jurisdiction, 
 and from the loose vagrant character of the people that had 
 gradually nestled themselves within the fortress as in a sanctu 
 ary, and from thence carried on a system of roguery and dep 
 redation at the expense of the honest inhabitants of the city. 
 Thus there was a perpetual feud and heart-burning between 
 the captain-general and the governor; the more virulent on 
 the part of the latter, inasmuch as the smallest of two neigh 
 bouring potentates is always the most captious about his dignity. 
 The stately palace of the captain-general stood in the Plaza 
 Nueva, immediately at the foot of the hill of the Alhambra, 
 and here was always a bustle and parade of guards, and domes 
 tics, and city functionaries. A beetling bastion of the fortress 
 overlooked the palace and the public square in front of it ; and 
 on this bastion the old governor would occasionally strut back 
 wards and forwards, with his toledo girded by his side, keeping 
 
THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY. 171 
 
 a wary eye down upon his rival, like a hawk reconnoitring his 
 quarry from his nest in a dry tree. 
 
 Whenever he descended into the city, it was in grand 
 parade, on horseback, surrounded by his guards, or in his 
 state coach, an ancient and unwieldy Spanish edifice of carved 
 timber and gilt leather, drawn by eight mules, with running 
 footmen, outriders, and lacqueys, on which occasions he nat 
 tered himself he impressed every beholder with awe and ad 
 miration as vicegerent of the king, though the wits of Gra 
 nada, particularly those who loitered about the palace of the 
 captain-general, were apt to sneer at his petty parade, and, in 
 allusion to the vagrant character of his subjects, to greet him 
 with the appellation of " the King of the beggars." 
 
 One of the most fruitful sources of dispute between these 
 two doughty rivals, was the right claimed by the governor 
 to have all things passed free of duty through the city, that 
 were intended for the use of himself or his garrison. By de 
 grees, this privilege had given rise to extensive smuggling. A 
 nest of contrabandistas took up their abode in the hovels of 
 the fortress and the numerous caves in its vicinity, and drove 
 a thriving business under the connivance of the soldiers of 
 the garrison. 
 
 The vigilance of the captain-general was aroused. He con 
 sulted his legal adviser and factotum, a shrewd, meddlesome 
 Escribano or notary, who rejoiced in an opportunity of per 
 plexing the old potentate of the Alhambra, and involving him 
 in a maze of legal subtilities. He advised the captain-general 
 to insist upon the right of examining every convoy passing 
 through the gates of his city, and he penned a long letter for 
 him, in vindication of the right. Governor Manco was a 
 straight-forward, cut-and-thrust old soldier, who hated an 
 Escribano worse than the devil, and this one in particular, 
 worse than all other Escribanoes. 
 
 "What!" said he, curling up his mustachios fiercely, " does 
 the captain-general set his man of the pen to practise con 
 fusions upon me? I ll let him see that an old soldier is not to 
 be baffled by schoolcraft." 
 
 He seized his pen, and scrawled a short letter in a crabbed 
 hand, in which, without deigning to enter into argument, he 
 insisted on the right of transit free of search, and denounced 
 vengeance on any custom-house officer who should lay his un 
 hallowed hand on any convoy protected by the flag of the 
 Alhambra. 
 
172 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 While this question was agitated between the two praginati 
 cal potentates, it so happened that a mule laden with supplies 
 for the fortress arrived one day at the gate of Xenil, by which 
 it was to traverse a suburb of the city on its way to the 
 Alhambra. The convoy was headed by a testy old corporal, 
 who had long served under the governor, and was a man after 
 his own heart ; as trusty and staunch as an old toledo blade. 
 As they approached the gate of the city, the corporal placed 
 the banner of the .Alhambra on the pack saddle of the mule, 
 and, drawing himself up to a perfect perpendicular, advanced 
 with his head dressed to the front, but with the wary side 
 glance of a cur passing through hostile grounds, and ready for 
 a snap and a snarl. 
 
 " Who goes there?" said the sentinel at the gate. 
 
 " Soldier of the Alhambra," said the corporal, without turn 
 ing his head. 
 
 " What have you in charge?" 
 
 "Provisions for the garrison." 
 
 "Proceed." 
 
 The corporal marched straight forward, followed by the 
 convoy, but had not advanced many paces, before a posse of 
 custom-house officer rushed out of a small toll-house. 
 
 "Hallo there!" cried the leader: "Muleteer, halt and open 
 those packages." 
 
 The corporal wheeled round, and drew himself up in battle 
 array. "Respect the flag of the Alhambra, " said he; "these 
 things are for the governor." 
 
 " A fig for the governor, and a fig for his flag. Muleteer, 
 halt, I say." 
 
 " Stop the convoy at your peril!" cried the corporal, cocking 
 his musket. " Muleteer, proceed." 
 
 The muleteer gave his beast a hearty thwack, the custom 
 house officer sprang forward, and seized the halter; where 
 upon the corporal levelled his piece and shot him dead. 
 
 The street was immediately in an uproar. The old corporal 
 was seized, and after undergoing sundry kicks and cuffs, and 
 cudgellingg, which are generally given impromptu, by the 
 mob in Spain, as a foretaste of the after penalties of the law, 
 he was loaded with irons, and conducted to the city prison; 
 while his comrades were permitted to proceed with the convoy, 
 after it had been well rummaged, to the Alhambra. 
 
 The old governor was in a towering passion, when he heard 
 of this insult to his flag and capture of his corporal. For a 
 
THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY. 173 
 
 time he stormed about the Moorish halls, and vapoured about 
 the bastions, and looked down fire and sword upon the palace 
 of the captain-general. Having vented the fhvL ebullition of 
 his wrath, he despatched a message demanding the surrender 
 of the corporal, as to him alone belonged the right of sitting 
 in judgment on the offences of those under his command. 
 The captain-general, aided by the pen of the delighted Escri- 
 bano, replied at great length, arguing that as the offence had 
 been committed within the walls of his city, and against one 
 of his civil officers, it was clearly within his proper jurisdic 
 tion. The governor rejoined by a repetition of his demand; 
 the captain general gave a sur-re joinder of still greater length, 
 and legal acumen; the governor became hotter and more per 
 emptory in his demands, and the captain-general cooler and 
 more copious in his replies ; until the old lion-hearted soldier 
 absolutely roared with fury, at being thus entangled in the 
 meshes of legal controversy. 
 
 While the subtle Escribano was thus amusing himself at the 
 expense of the governor, he was conducting the trial of the 
 corporal ; who, mewed up in a narrow dungeon of the prison, 
 had merely a small grated window at which to show his iron- 
 bound visage, and receive the consolations of his friends; a 
 mountain of written testimony was diligently heaped up, ac 
 cording to Spanish form, by the indefatigable Escribano ; the 
 corporal w.as completely overwhelmed by it. He was con 
 victed of murder, and sentenced to be hanged. 
 
 It was in vain the governor sent down remonstrance and 
 menace from the Alhambra. The fatal day was at hand, and 
 the corporal was put in capilla, that is to say, in the chapel of 
 the prison; as is always done with culprits the day before 
 execution, that they may meditate on their approaching end, 
 and repent them of their sins. 
 
 Seeing things drawing to an extremity, the old governor 
 determined to attend to the affair in person. For this purpose 
 he ordered out his carriage of state, and, surrounded by his 
 guards, rumbled down the avenue of the Alhambra into the 
 city. Driving to the house of the Escribano, he summoned 
 him to the portal. 
 
 The eye of the old governor gleamed like a < oal at beholding 
 the smirking man of the law advancing with an air of exul 
 tation. 
 
 "What is this I hear," cried he, "that you are about to put 
 to death one of my soldiers?" 
 
174 THE ALIIAMBRA. 
 
 "All according to law, all in strict form of justice," said 
 the self -sufficient Escribano, chuckling and rubbing his hands. 
 "I can show your excellency the written testimony in the 
 case." 
 
 " Fetch it hither," said the governor. 
 
 The Escribano bustled into his office, delighted with having 
 another opportunity of displaying his ingenuity at the expense 
 of the hard-headed veteran. He returned with a satchel full 
 of papers, and began to read a long deposition with profes 
 sional volubility. By this time, a crowd had collected, listen 
 ing with outstretched necks and gaping mouths. 
 
 "Pry thee man, get into the carriage out of this pestilent 
 throng, that I may the better hear thee," said the governor. 
 
 The Escribano entered the carriage, when, in a twinkling, 
 the door was closed, the coachman smacked his whip, mules, 
 carriage, guards, and all dashed off at a thundering rate, leav 
 ing the crowd in gaping wonderment, nor did the governor 
 pause until he had lodged his prey in one of the strongest 
 dungeons of the Alhambra. 
 
 He then sent down a flag of truce in military style, propos 
 ing a cartel or exchange of prisoners, the corporal for the 
 notary. The pride of the captain-general was piqued, he re 
 turned a contemptuous refusal, and forthwith caused a gal 
 lows, tall and strong, to be erected in the centre of the Plaza 
 Neuva, for the execution of the corporal. 
 
 "O ho! is that the game?" said Governor Manco: he gave 
 orders, and immediately a gibbet was reared on the verge of 
 the great beetling bastion that overlooked the Plaza. " Now," 
 said he, in a message to the captain-general, hang my soldier 
 when you please ; but at the same time that he is swung off in 
 the square, look up to see your Escribano dangling against the 
 sky." 
 
 The captain-general was inflexible ; troops were paraded in 
 the square ; the drums beat ; the bell tolled ; an immense mul 
 titude of amateurs had collected to behold the execution; on 
 the other hand, the governor paraded his garrison on the bas 
 tion, and tolled the funeral dirge of the notary from the Torre 
 de la Campana, or tower of the bell. 
 
 The notary s wife pressed through the crowd with a whole 
 progeny of little embryo Escribanoes at her heels, and throw- 
 ing herself at the feet of the captain-general, implored him not 
 to sacrifice the life of her husband, and the welfare of herself 
 and her numerous, little ones to a point of pride; "for you 
 
GOVERNOR MANGO AND THE SOLDIER. 175 
 
 know the old governor too well," said she, "to doubt that he 
 will put his threat in execution if you hang the soldier." 
 
 The captain-general was overpowered by her tears and lam 
 entations, and the clamours of her callow brood. The corporal 
 was sent up to the Alhambra under a guard, in his gallows 
 garb, like a hooded friar ; but with head erect and a face of 
 iron. The Escribano was demanded in exchange, according to 
 the cartel. The once bustling and self-sufficient man of the 
 law was drawn forth from his dungeon, more dead than alive. 
 All his flippancy and conceit had evaporated ; his hair, it is 
 said, had nearly turned gray with affright, and he had a down 
 cast, dogged look, as if he still felt the halter round his neck. 
 
 The old governor stuck his one arm a-kimbo, and for a mo 
 ment surveyed him with an iron smile. "Henceforth, my 
 friend," said he, "moderate your zeal in hurrying others to 
 the gallows; be not too certain of your own safety, even 
 though you should have the law on your side ; and, above all, 
 take care how you play off your schoolcraft another time upon 
 an old soldier." 
 
 GOVERNOR MANGO AND THE SOLDIER. 
 
 WHEN Governor Manco, or the one-armed, kept up a show of 
 military state in the Alhambra, he became nettled at the re 
 proaches continually cast upon his fortress of being a nestling 
 place of rogues and contrabandistas. On a sudden, the old 
 potentate determined on reform, and setting vigorously to 
 work, ejected whole nests of vagabonds out of the fortress, 
 and the gypsy caves with which the surrounding hills are 
 honey-combed. He sent out soldiers, also, to patrol the 
 avenues and footpaths, with orders to take up all suspicious 
 persons. 
 
 One bright summer morning, a patrol consisting of the testy 
 old corporal who had distinguished himself in the affair of 
 the notary, a trumpeter and two privates were seated under 
 the garden wall of the Generaliffe, beside the road which leads 
 down from the mountain of the Sun, when they heard the 
 tramp of a horse, and a male voice singing in rough, though 
 not unmusical tones, an old Castilian campaigning song. 
 
 Presently they beheld a sturdy, sun-burnt fellow clad in the 
 
176 THE AL1IAMBRA. 
 
 ragged garb of a foot-soldier, leading a powerful Arabian 
 horse caparisoned in the ancient Morisco fashion. 
 
 Astonished at the sight of a strange soldier, descending, 
 steed in hand, from that solitary mountain, the corporal 
 stepped forth and challenged him. 
 "Who goes there?" 
 " A friend. " 
 
 " Who, and what are you?" 
 
 "A poor soldier, just from the wars, with a cracked crown 
 and empty purse for a reward." 
 
 By this time they were enabled to view him more narrowly. 
 He had a black patch across his forehead, which, with a griz 
 zled beard, added to a certain dare-devil cast of countenance, 
 while a slight squint threw into the whole an occasional gleam 
 of roguish good-humour. 
 
 Having answered the questions of the patrol, the soldier 
 seemed to consider himself entitled to make others in return. 
 "May I ask," said he, " what city is this which I see at the 
 foot of the hill?" 
 
 "What city!" cried the trumpeter; "come, that s too bad. 
 Here s a fellow lurking about the mountain of the Sun, and 
 demands the name of the great city of Granada." 
 "Granada! Madre de Dios! can it be possible!" 
 "Perhaps not!" rejoined the trumpeter, "and perhaps you 
 have no idea that yonder are the towers of the Alhambra?" 
 
 " Son of a trumpet," replied the stranger, "do not trifle with 
 me ; if this be indeed the Alhambra, I have some strange mat 
 ters to reveal to the governor. " 
 
 "You will have an opportunity," said the corporal, " for we 
 mean to take you before him." 
 
 By this time the trumpeter had seized the bridle of the steed, 
 the two privates had each secured an arm of the soldier, the 
 corporal put himself in front, gave the word, "forward, 
 march !" and away they marched for the Alhambra. 
 
 The sight of a ragged foot-soldier and a fine Arabian horse 
 brought in captive by the patrol, attracted the attention of all 
 the idlers of the fortress, and of those gossip groups that gen 
 erally assemble about wells and fountains at enrly dawn. The 
 wheel of the cistern paused in its rotations; fho plipshod ser 
 vant-maid stood gaping with pitcher in hand, as the corporal 
 passed by with his prize. A motley train gradually gathered 
 in the f jear of the escort. Knowing nods, and winks, and con 
 jectures passed from one to another. It is a deserter, said 
 
GOVERNOR MANGO AND THE SOLDIER. 377 
 
 one; a contrabandist^ said another; a bandalero, said a third, 
 until it was affirmed that a captain of a desperate band of 
 robbers had been captured by the prowess of the corporal and 
 his patrol. Well, well, " said the old crones one to another 
 " captain or not, let him get out of the grasp of old Governor 
 Manco if he can, though he is but one-handed. " 
 
 Governor Manco was seated in one of the inner halls of the 
 Alhambra, taking his morning s cup of chocolate in company 
 with his confessor, a fat Franciscan friar from the neighbour 
 ing convent. A demure, dark-eyed damsel of Malaga, the 
 daughter of his housekeeper, wa,s attending upon him. 
 
 The world hinted that the damsel, who, with all her demure- 
 ness, was a sly, buxom baggage, had found out a soft spot 
 in the iron heart of the old governor, and held complete con 
 trol over him, but let that pass; the domestic affairs of these 
 mighty potentates of the earth should not be too narrowly 
 scrutinized. 
 
 When word was brought that; a suspicious stranger had 
 been taken lurking about the fortress, and was actually in the 
 outer court, in durance of the corporal, waiting the pleasure 
 of his excellency, the pride and stateliness of office swelled the 
 bosom of the governor. Giving back his chocolate cup into 
 the hands of the demure damsel, he called for his basket-hilted 
 sword, girded it to his side, twirled up his mustachios, took 
 his seat in a large high-backed chair, assumed a bitter and for 
 bidding aspect, and ordered the prisoner into his presence 
 The soldier was brought in, still closely pinioned by his cap 
 tors, and guarded by the corporal. He maintained, however 
 a resolute, self-confident air, and returned the sharp, scruti 
 nizing look of the governor with an easy squint, which by no 
 means pleased the punctilious old potentate. 
 
 "Well, culprit!" said the governor, after he had regarded 
 him for a moment in silence, " what have you to say for your 
 self? who are you?" 
 
 "A soldier, just from the wars, who has brought away 
 nothing but scars and bruises." 
 
 "A soldier? humph! a foot-soldier by your garb. I under 
 stand you have a fine Arabian horse. I presume you brought 
 him too from the wars, beside your scars and bruises." 
 
 May it please your excellency, I have something strange 
 11 about that horse. Indeed, I have one of the most won 
 derful things to relate something too that concerns the secu 
 rity of this fortress, indeed, of all Granada. But it is a malic 
 
178 T1IE ALI1AMBRA. 
 
 to be imparted only to your private ear, or in presence of such 
 only as are in your confidence." 
 
 The governor considered for a moment, and then directed the 
 corporal and his men to withdraw, but to post themselves out 
 side of the door, and be ready at call. " This holy friar," said 
 he, " is my confessor, you may say anything in his presence- 
 and this damsel," nodding towards the handmaid, who had 
 loitered with an air of great curiosity, " this damsel is of great 
 secrecy and discretion, and to be trusted with any thing." 
 
 The soldier gave a glance between a squint and a leer at the 
 demure handmaid. "lam perfectly willing," said he, "that 
 the damsel should remain." 
 
 When all the rest had withdrawn, the soldier commenced 
 his story. He was a fluent, smooth-tongued varlet, and had a 
 command of language above his apparent rank. 
 
 "May it please your excellency," said he, I am, as I before 
 observed, a soldier, and have seen some hard service, but my 
 term of enlistment being expired, I was discharged not long 
 since from the army at Valladolid, and set out ontfoot for my 
 native village in Andalusia. Yesterday evening the sun went 
 down as I was traversing a great dry plain of old Castile." 
 
 "Hold!" cried the governor, "what is this you say? Old 
 Castile is some two or three hundred miles from this." 
 
 "Even so," replied the soldier, coolly, "I told your excel- 
 lency I had strange things to relate but not more strange 
 than true as your excellency will find, if you will deign me a 
 patient hearing. " 
 
 "Proceed, culprit," said the governor, twirling up his mus- 
 tachios. 
 
 "As the sun went down," continued the soldier, " I cast my 
 eyes about in search of some quarters for the night, but far as 
 my sight could reach, there were no signs of habitation. I saw 
 that I should have to make my bed on the naked plain, with 
 my knapsack for a pillow ; but your excellency is an old sol 
 dier, and knows that to one who has been in the wars, such a 
 night s lodging is no great hardship." 
 
 The governor nodded assent, as he drew his pocket-handker 
 chief out of the basket-hilt of his sword, to drive away a fly 
 that buzzed about his nose. 
 
 "Well, to make a long story short," continued the soldier, 
 " I trudged forward for several miles, until I came to a bridge 
 o^er n deep ravine, through which ran a little thread of water, 
 almost dried up by the summer heat. At one end of the bridge 
 
GOVERNOR MANGO AND THE SOLDIER. 179 
 
 a Moorish tower, the upper part all in ruins, but a vault 
 iis the foundations quite entire. Here, thinks I, is a good place 
 to make a halt. So I went down to the stream, took a hearty 
 drinfc, for the water was pure and sweet, and I was parched 
 with thirst, then opening my wallet, I took out an onion and 
 a few crusts, which were all my provisions, and seating myself 
 on a stone on the margin of the stream, began to make my 
 supper ; intending afterwards to quarter myself for the night 
 in the vault of the tower, and capital quarters they would have 
 been ror a campaigner just from the wars, as your excellency, 
 who is an old soldier, may suppose." 
 
 "I have put up gladly with worse in my time," said the 
 governor, returning his pocket-handkerchief into the hilt of 
 his sword. 
 
 "While I was quietly crunching my crust," pursued the 
 soldier, ; I heard something stir within the vault; I listened: 
 it was the tramp of a horse. By and by a man came forth 
 from a door in the foundation of the tower, close by the 
 water s edge, leading a powerful horse by the bridle. I could 
 not well make out what he was by the starlight. It had a 
 suspicious looK to be lurking among the ruins of a tower in 
 that wild solitary place. He might be a mere wayfarer like 
 myself ; he might be a contrabandista ; he might be a banda- 
 lero! What of that, thank heaven and my poverty, I had 
 nothing to lose, so I sat still and crunched my crusts. 
 
 "He led his horse to the water close by where I was sitting, 
 so that I had a fair opportunity of reconnoitring him. To my 
 surprise, he was dressed in a Moorish garb, with a cuirass of 
 steel, and a polished skullcap, that I distinguished by the re 
 flection of the stars upon it. His horse, too, was harnessed in 
 the Morisco fashion, with great shovel stirrups. He led him, 
 as I said, to the side of the stream, into which the animal 
 plunged his head almost to the eyes, and drank until I thought 
 he would have burst. 
 
 u Comrade, said I, * your steed drinks well; it s a good sign 
 when a horse plunges his muzzle bravely into the water. 
 
 " He may well drink, said the stranger, speaking with a 
 Moorish accent; it is a good year since he had his last 
 draught. 
 
 " By Santiago, said I, that beats even the camels that I 
 have seen in Africa. But come, you seem to be something of 
 a soldier, won t you sit down, and take part of a soldier s fare? 
 In fact, I felt the want of a companion in this lonely place, 
 
180 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 and was willing to put up with an infidel. Besides, as your 
 excellency well knows, a soldier is never very particular about 
 the faith of Ins company, and soldiers of all countries are com 
 rades on peaceable ground." 
 
 The governor again nodded assent. 
 
 Well, as I was saying, I invited him to share my supper, 
 such as it was, for I could not do less in common hospitality. 
 
 k I have no time to pause for meat or drink, said he, 1 
 have a long journey to make before morning. 
 
 " In which direction? said I. 
 
 Andalusia, said he. 
 
 " Exactly my route, said I. So as you won t stop and eat 
 with me, perhaps you ll let me mount and ride with you. I 
 see your horse is of a powerful frame : I ll warrant he ll carry 
 double. 
 
 "Agreed, said the trooper; and it would not have been 
 civil and soldierlike to refuse, especially as I had offered to 
 share my supper with him. So up he mounted, and up I 
 mounted behind him. 
 
 " Hold fast, said he, my steed goes like the wind. 
 
 " * Never fear me, said I, and so off we set. 
 
 From a walk the horse soon passed to a trot, from a trot to 
 a gallop, and from a gallop to a harum-scarum scamper. It 
 seemed as if rocks, trees, houses, everything, flew hurry-scurry 
 behind us. 
 
 " What town is this? said I. 
 
 " Segovia, said he; and before the words were out of his 
 mouth, the towers of Segovia were out of sight. We swept up 
 the Guadarama mountains, and down by the Escurial ; and we 
 skirted the walls of Madrid, and we scoured away across the 
 plains of La Mancha. In this way we went up hill and down 
 dale, by towns and cities all buried in deep sleep, and across 
 mountains, and plains, and rivers, just glimmering in the star 
 light. 
 
 To make a long story short, and not to fatigue your excel 
 lency, the trooper suddenly pulled up on the side of a moun 
 tain. Here we are, said he, at the end of our journey. 
 
 "I looked about but could see no signs of habitation: noth 
 ing but the mouth of a cavern : while I looked, I saw multitudes 
 of people in Moorish dresses, some on horseback, some on foot, 
 arriving as if borne by the wind from all points of the compass, 
 and hurrying into the mouth of the cavern like bees into a 
 hive. Before I could ask a question, the trooper struck hia 
 
GOVERNOR MANGO AND THE SOLDIER. 
 
 long Moorish spurs into the horse s flanks, and dashed in with 
 the throng. We passed along a steep winding way that de 
 scended into the very bowels of the mountain. As we pushed 
 on, a light began to glimmer up by little and little, like the 
 first glimmerings of day, but what caused it, 1 could not dis 
 cover. It grew stronger and stronger, and enabled me to see 
 everything around. I now noticed as we passed along, great 
 caverns opening to the right and left, like halls in an arsenal. 
 In some there were shields, and helmets, and cuirasses, and 
 lances, and scimitars hanging against the walls; in others, 
 there were great heaps of warlike munitions and camp equi 
 page lying upon the ground. 
 
 " It would have done your excellency s heart good, being an 
 old soldier, to have seen such grand provision for war. Then 
 in other caverns there were long rows of horsemen, armed to 
 the teeth, with lances raised and banners unfurled, aU ready 
 for the field ; but they all sat motionless in their saddles like 
 so many statues. In other halls, were warriors sleeping on the 
 ground beside their horses, and foot soldiers in groups, ready 
 to fall into the ranks. All were in old-fashioned Moorish 
 dresses and armour. 
 
 "Well, your excellency, to cut a long story short, we at 
 length entered an immense cavern, or I might say palace, of 
 grotto work, the walls of which seemed to be veined with gold 
 and silver, and to sparkle with diamonds and sapphires, and 
 all kinds of precious stones. At the upper end sat a Moorish 
 king on a golden throne, with his nobles on each side, and a 
 guard of African blacks with drawn scimitars. All the crowd 
 that continued to flock in, and amounted to thousands and 
 thousands, passed one by one before his throne, each paying 
 homage as he passed. Some of the multitude were dressed in 
 magnificent robes, without stain or blemish, and sparkling 
 with jewels ; others in burnished and enamelled armour ; while 
 others were in mouldered and mildewed garments, and in 
 armour all battered and dinted, and covered with rust. 
 
 "I. had hitherto held my tongue, for your excellency well 
 knows, it is not for a soldier to ask many questions when on 
 duty, but I could keep silence no longer. 
 
 "Pr ythee, comrade, said I, what is the meaning of all 
 this? 
 
 This, said the trooper, is a great and powerful mystery. 
 Know, O Christian, that you see before you the court and 
 army of Boabdil, the last king of Granada T 
 
182 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 " What is this you teU me! cried I. Boabdil and his 
 court were exiled from the land hundreds of years agone, and 
 all died in Africa. 
 
 " So it is recorded in your lying chronicles, replied the 
 Moor, but know that Boabdil and the warriors who made 
 the last struggle for Granada were all shut up in this moun* 
 tain by powerful enchantment. As to the king and army that 
 marched forth from Granada at the time of the surrender, 
 they were a mere phantom train, or spirits and demons per 
 mitted to assume those shapes to deceive the Christian sove 
 reigns. And furthermore let me tell you, friend, that all Spain 
 is a country under the power of enchantment. There is not a 
 mountain-cave, not a lonely watch-tower in the plains, nor 
 ruined castle on the hills, but has some spell-bound warriors 
 sleeping from age to age within its vaults, until the sins are 
 expiated for which Allah permitted the dominion to pass for a 
 time out of the hands of the faithful. Once every year, on the 
 eve of St. John, they are released from enchantment from sun 
 set to sunrise, and permitted to repair here to pay homage to 
 their sovereign ; and the crowds which you beheld swarming 
 into the cavern are Moslem warriors from their haunts in all 
 parts of Spain ; for my own part, you saw the ruined tower of 
 the bridge in old Castile, where I have now wintered and sum 
 mered for many hundred years, and where I must be back 
 again by day -break. As to the battalions of horse and foot 
 which you beheld drawn up in array in the neighbouring cav 
 erns, they are the spell-bound warriors of Granada. It is 
 written in the book of fate, that when the enchantment is 
 broken, Boabdil will descend from the mountains at the head 
 of this army, resume his throne in the Alhambra and his sway 
 of Granada, and gathering together the enchanted warriors 
 from all parts of Spain, will reconquer the peninsula, and re 
 store it to Moslem rule. 
 
 " And when shall this happen? said I. 
 
 * Allah alone knows. We had hoped the day of deliver 
 ance was at hand ; but there reigns at present a vigilant gov 
 ernor in Alhambra, a staunch old soldier, the same called 
 Governor Manco ; while such a warrior holds command of the 
 very outpost, and stands ready to check the first irruption 
 from the mountain, I fear Boabdil and his soldiery must be 
 content to rest upon their arms. " 
 
 Here the governor raised himself somewhat perpendicularly, 
 adjusted his sword, and twirled up his mustachios. 
 
GOVERNOR MANGO AND THE SOLDIER. 183 
 
 " To make a long story short, and not to fatigue your excel 
 lency, the trooper having given me this account, dismounted 
 from his steed. 
 
 " Tarry here, said he, * and guard my steed, while I go and 
 bow the knee to Boabdil. So saying, he strode away among 
 the throng that pressed forward to the throne. 
 
 "What s to be done? thought I, when thus left to myself. 
 Shall I wait here until this infidel returns to whisk me off on 
 his goblin steed, the Lord knows where? or shall I make the 
 most of my time, and beat a retreat from this hobgoblin com 
 munity? A soldier s mind is soon made up, as your excellency 
 well knows. As to the horse, he belonged to an avowed enemy 
 of the faith and the realm, and was a fair prize according to 
 the rules of war. So hoisting myself from the crupper into 
 the saddle, I turned the reins, struck the Moorish stirrups 
 into the sides of the steed, and put him to make the best of his 
 way out of tfre passage by which we had entered. As we 
 scoured by the halls where the Moslem horsemen sat in 
 motionless battalions, I thought I heard the clang of armour, 
 and a hollow murmur of voices. I gave the steed another 
 taste of the stirrups, and doubled my speed. There was now a 
 sound behind me like a rushing blast ; I heard the clatter of a 
 thousand hoofs ; a countless throng overtook me ; I was borne 
 along in the press, and hurled forth from the mouth of the 
 cavern, while thousands of shadowy forms were swept off in 
 every direction by the four winds of heaven. 
 
 "In the whirl and confusion of the scene, I was thrown 
 from the saddle, and fell senseless to the earth. When I came 
 to myself I was lying on the brow of a hill, with the Arabian 
 steed standing beside me, for in falling my arm had slipped 
 within the bridle, which, I presume, prevented his whisking 
 off to old Castile. 
 
 Your excellency may easily judge of my surprise on look 
 ing round, to behold hedges of aloes and Indian figs, and other 
 proofs of a southern climate, and see a great city below me 
 with towers and palaces, and a grand cathedral. I descended 
 the hill cautiously, leading my steed, for I was afraid to 
 mount him again, lest he should play me some slippery trick. 
 As I descended, I met with your patrol, who let me into the 
 secret that it was Granada that lay before me : and that I was 
 actually under the walls of the Alhambra, the fortress of the 
 redoubted Governor Manco, the terror of all enchanted Mos 
 lems. Wlien I heard this, I determined at once to seek your 
 
184 THE ALHAMBfiA. 
 
 excellency, to inform you of all that I had seen, and to warn 
 you of the perils that surround and under line you, that you 
 may take measures in time to guard your fortress, and the 
 kingdom itself, from this intestine army chat lurks in the very 
 bowels of the land. " 
 
 "And pr ythee, friend, you who are a veteran campaigner, 
 and have seen so much service," said the governor, "how 
 would you advise me to go about to prevent this evil?" 
 
 "It is not for an humble private of the ranks," said the 
 soldier modestly, "to pretend to instruct a commander of 
 your excellency s sagacity; but it appears to me that your 
 excellency might cause all the caves and entrances into the 
 mountain to be walled up with solid mason-work, so that 
 Boabdil and his army might be completely corked up in their 
 subterranean habitation. If the good father too, " added the 
 soldier, reverently bowing to the friar, and devoutly crossing 
 himself, "would consecrate the barricadoes with his blessing, 
 and put up a few crosses and reliques, and images of saints, I 
 think they might withstand all the power of infidel enchant 
 ments. " 
 
 " They doubtless would be of great avail," said the friar. 
 
 The governor now placed his arm a-kimbo, with his hand 
 resting on the hilt of his toledo, fixed his eye upon the soldier, 
 and gently wagging his head from one side to the other : 
 
 "So, friend," said he, " then you really suppose I am to be 
 gulled with this cock-and-bull story about enchanted moun 
 tains, and enchanted Moors. Hark ye, culprit ! not another 
 word. An old soldier you may be, but you ll find you have 
 an old soldier to deal with; and one not easily outgeneralled. 
 Ho! guard there! put this fellow in irons." 
 
 The demure handmaid would have put in a word in favour 
 of the prisoner, but the governor silenced her with a look. 
 
 As they were pinioning the soldier, one of the guards felt 
 something of bulk in his pocket, and drawing it forth, found a 
 long leathern purse that appeared to be well filled. Holding it 
 by one corner, he turned out the contents on the table before 
 the governor, and never dia freebooter s bag make more gor 
 geous delivery. Out tumbled rings and jewels, and rosaries of 
 pearls, and sparkling diamond crosses, and a profusion of an 
 cient golden coin, some of which fell jingling to the floor, and 
 rolled away to the uttermost parts of the chamber. 
 
 Fora time the functions of justice were suspended: there 
 was a universal scramble after the glittering fugitives. The 
 
GOVERNOR MANGO AND THE SOLDIER. 
 
 governor alone, who was imbued with true Spanish pride, 
 maintained his stately decorum, though his eye betrayed a 
 little anxiety until the last coin and jewel was restored to the 
 sack. 
 
 The friar was not so calm; his whole face glowed like a fur 
 nace, and his eyes twinkled and flashed at sight of the rosaries 
 and crosses. 
 
 " Sacrilegious wretch that thou art," exclaimed he, "what 
 church, or sanctuary hast thou been plundering of these sacred 
 reliques?" 
 
 "Neither one nor the other, holy father. If they be sacrile 
 gious spoils, they must have been taken in times long past by 
 the infidel trooper I have mentioned. I was just going to tell 
 his excellency, when he interrupted me, that, on taking pos 
 session of the trooper s horse, I unhooked a leathern sack which 
 hung at the saddle bow, and which, I presume, contained the 
 plunder of his campaignings in days of old, when the Moors 
 overran the country." 
 
 " Mighty well, at present you will make up your mind to 
 take up your quarters in a chamber of the Vermilion towers, 
 which, though not under a magic spell, will hold you as safe as 
 any cave of your enchanted Moors." 
 
 " Your exceUency will do as you think proper," said the pri 
 soner coolly. " I shall be thankful to your excellency for any 
 accommodation in the fortress. A soldier who has been in the 
 wars, as your excellency well knows, is not particular about 
 Ms lodgings; and provided I have a snug dungeon and regular 
 rations, I shall manage to make myself comfortable. I would 
 only entreat, that while your excellency is so careful about me, 
 you would have an eye to your fortress, and think on the hint 
 I dropped about stopping up the entrances to the moun 
 tain." 
 
 Here ended the scene. The prisoner was conducted to a 
 strong dungeon in the Vermilion towers, the Arabian steed 
 was led to his excellency s stable, and the trooper s sack was 
 deposited in his excellency s strong box. To the latter, it is 
 true, the friar made some demur, questioning whether the 
 sacred reliques, which were evidently sacrilegious spoils, should 
 not be placed in custody of the church; but as the governor 
 was peremptory on the subject, and was absolute lord in the 
 Alhambra, the friar discreetly dropped the discussion, but de 
 termined to convey intelligence of the fact to the church dig 
 nitaries in Granada. 
 
186 
 
 To explain these prompt and rigid measures on the part of 
 old Governor Manco, it is proper to observe, that about this 
 time the Alpuxarra mountains in the neighbourhood of Gra 
 nada were terribly infected by a gang of robbers, under the 
 command of a daring chief named Manuel Borasco, who were 
 accustomed to prowl about the country, and even to enter the 
 city in various disguises to gain intelligence of the departure 
 of convoys of merchandise, or travellers with well-lined purses, 
 whom they took care to waylay in distant and solitary passe? 
 of their road. These repeated and daring outrages had awak- 
 ened the attention of government, and the commanders of the 
 various posts had received instructions to be on the alert, and 
 to take up all suspicious stragglers. Governor Manco was par 
 ticularly zealous, in consequence of the various stigmas that 
 had been cast upon his fortress, and he now doubted not that 
 he had entrapped some formidable desperado of this gang. 
 
 In the mean time the story took wind, and became the talk 
 not merely of the fortress, but of the whole city of Granada. 
 It was said that the noted robber, Manuel Borasco , the terror 
 of the Alpuxarras, had fallen into the clutches of old Governor 
 Manco, and been cooped up by him in a dungeon of the Ver 
 milion towers, and every one who had been robbed by him 
 flocked to recognize the marauder. The Vermilion towers, as 
 is well known, stand apart from the Alhambra, on a sister hill 
 separated from the main fortress by the ravine, down which 
 passes the main avenue. There were no outer walls, but a sen 
 tinel patrolled before the tower. The window of the chamber 
 in which the soldier was confined was strongly grated, and 
 looked upon a small esplanade. Here the good folks of Gra 
 nada repaired to gaze at him, as they would at a laughing 
 hyena grinning through the cage. of a menagerie. Nobody, 
 however, recognized him for Manuel Borasco, for that terrible 
 robber was noted for a ferocious physiognomy, and had by no 
 means the good-humoured squint of the prisoner. Visitors 
 came not merely from the city, but from all parts of the coun 
 try, but nobody knew him, and there began to be doubts in the 
 minds of the common people, whether there might not be some 
 truth in his story. That Boabdil and his army were shut up in 
 the mountain, was an old tradition which many of the ancient 
 inhabitants had heard from their fathers. Numbers went up 
 tp the mountain of the Sun, or rather of St. Elena, in search of 
 the cave mentioned by the soldier ; and saw and peeped into 
 the deep dark pit, descending, no one knows how far, into the 
 
GOVERNOR MANGO AND TEE SOLDIER. 187 
 
 mountain, and which remains there to this day, the fabled en 
 trance to the subterranean abode of Boabdil. 
 
 By degrees, the soldier became popular with the common 
 people. A freebooter of the mountains is by no means the op 
 probrious character in Spain that a robber is in any other coun 
 try ; on the contrary, he is a kind of chivalrous personage in 
 the eyes of the lower classes. There is always a disposition, 
 also, to cavil at the conduct of those in command, and many 
 began to murmur at the high-handed measures of old Governor 
 Manco, and to look upon the prisoner in the light of a martyr. 
 
 The soldier, moreover, was a merry, waggish fellow, that 
 had a joke for every one who came near his window, and a 
 soft speech for every female. He had procured an old gui 
 tar also, and would sit by his window and sing ballads and 
 love-ditties to the delight of the women of the neighbour 
 hood, who would assemble on the esplanade in the evenings, 
 and dance boleros to his music. Having trimmed off his 
 rough beard, his sunburnt face found favour in the eyes of 
 the fair, and the demure handmaid of the governor declared 
 that his squint was perfectly irresistible. This kind-hearted 
 damsel had, from the first, evinced a deep sympathy in his 
 fortunes, and having in vain tried to mollify the governor, 
 had set to work privately to mitigate the rigour of his dis 
 pensations. Every day she brought the prisoner some crumbs 
 of comfort which had fallen from the governor s table, or 
 been abstracted from his larder, together with, now and then, 
 a consoling bottle of choice Val de Penas, or rich Malaga. 
 
 While this petty treason was going on in the very centre of 
 the old governor s citadel, a storm of open war was brewing up 
 among his external foes. The circumstance of a bag of gold 
 and jewels having been found upon the person of the supposed 
 robber, had been reported with many exaggerations in Gra 
 nada. A question of territorial jurisdiction was immediately 
 started by the governor s inveterate rival, the captain-general. 
 He insisted that the prisoner had been captured without the pre 
 cincts of the Alhambra, and within the rules of his authority. 
 He demanded his body, therefore, and the spolia opima taken 
 with him. Due information having been carried likewise by 
 the friar to the grand Inquisitor, of the crosses, and the rosa 
 ries, and other reliques contained in the bag, he claimed the cul 
 prit, as having been guilty of sacrilege, and insisted that his 
 plunder was due to the church, and his body to the next Auto 
 da Fe. The feuds ran high; the governor was furious, an<l 
 
188 THE ALIIAMBRA. 
 
 swore, rather than surrender his captive, he would hang him 
 up within the Alhambra, as a spy caught within the purlieus 
 of the fortress. 
 
 The captain-general threatened to send a body of soldiers to 
 transfer the prisoner from the Vermilion towers to the city. 
 The grand Inquisitor was equally bent upon despatching a 
 number of the familiars of the holy office. Word was brought 
 late at night to the governor, of these machinations. "Let 
 them come," said he, "they ll find me beforehand with them. 
 He must rise bright and early who would take in an old sol 
 dier." He accordingly issued orders to have the prisoner re 
 moved at daybreak to the Donjon Keep within the walls of the 
 Alhambra: "And d ye hear, child," said he to his demure 
 handmaid, tap at my door, and wake me before cock-crow 
 ing, that I may see to the matter myself." 
 
 The day dawned, the cock crowed, but nobody tapped at the 
 door of the governor. The sun rose high above the mountain- 
 tops, and glittered in at his casement ere the governor was 
 awakened from his morning dreams by his veteran corporal, 
 who stood before him with terror stamped upon his iron 
 visage. 
 
 "He s off! he s gone!" cried the corporal, gasping for breath. 
 
 "Who s om-who s gone?" 
 
 The soldier the robber the devil, for aught I know. His 
 dungeon is empty, but the door locked. No one knows how 
 he has escaped out of it. " 
 
 "Who saw him last?" 
 
 "Your handmaid, she brought him his supper." 
 
 "Let her be called instantly." 
 
 Here was new matter of confusion. The chamber of the 
 demure damsel was likewise empty; her bed had not been 
 slept in ; she had doubtless gone off with the culprit, as she 
 had appeared, for some days past, to have frequent conversa 
 tions with him. 
 
 This was wounding the old governor in. a tender part, but he 
 had scarce time to wince at it, when new misfortunes broke 
 upon his view. On going into his cabinet, he found his strong 
 box open, the leathern purse of the trooper extracted, and with 
 it a couple of corpulent bags of doubloons. 
 
 But how, and which way had the fugitives escaped? A 
 peasant who lived in a cottage by the road-side leading up 
 into the Sierra, declared that he had heard the tramp of a 
 powerful steed, just before daybreak, passing up into the 
 
LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCRKET STATUES. 189 
 
 mountains. He had looked out at his casement, and could 
 just distinguish a horseman, with a female seated before him. 
 "Search the stables," cried Governor Manco. The stables 
 were searched; all the horses were in their stalls, excepting 
 the Arabian steed. In his place was a stout cudgel tied to 
 the manger, and on it a label bearing these words, " A gift to 
 Governor Manco, from an old soldier." 
 
 LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 
 
 THERE lived once, in a waste apartment of the Alhambra, a 
 merry little fellow named Lope Sanchez, who worked in the 
 gardens, and was as brisk and blithe as a grasshopper, singing 
 all day long. He was the life and soul of the fortress ; when 
 his work was over, he would sit on one of the stone benches of 
 the esplanade and strum his guitar, and sing long ditties about 
 the Cid, and Bernardo del Carpio, and Fernando del Pulgar, 
 and other Spanish heroes, for the amusement of the old sol 
 diers of the fortress, or would strike up a merrier tune, and set 
 the girls dancing boleros and fandangos. 
 
 Like most little men, Lope Sanchez had a strapping buxom 
 dame for a wife, who could almost have put him in her pocket ; 
 but he lacked the usual poor man s lot, instead of ten chil 
 dren he had but one. This was a little black-eyed girl, about 
 twelve years of age, named Sanchica, who was as merry as 
 himself, and the delight of his heart. She played about him 
 as he worked in the gardens, danced to his guitar as he sat in 
 the shade, and ran as wild as a young fawn about the groves, 
 and alleys, and ruined halls of the Alhambra. 
 
 It was now the eve of the blessed St. John, and the holyday- 
 loving gossips of the Alhambra, men, women, and children, 
 went up at night to the mountain of the Sun, which rises 
 above the Generaliffe, to keep their midsummer vigil on its 
 level summit. It was a bright moonlight night, and all the 
 mountains were gray and silvery, and the city, with its domes 
 and spires, lay in shadows below, and the Vega was like a 
 fairy land, with haunted streams gleaming among its dusky 
 groves. On the highest part of the mountain they lit up a 
 bale fire, according to an old custom of the country handed 
 down from the Moors. The inhabitants of the surrounding 
 
190 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 country were keeping a similar vigil, and bale fires here and 
 there in the Vega, and along the folds of the mountains, blazed 
 up palely in the moonlight. 
 
 The evening was gaily passed in dancing to the guitar of 
 Lope Sanchez, who was never so joyous as when on a holiday 
 revel of the kind. While the dance was going on, the little 
 Sanchica with some of her playmates sported among the ruins 
 of an old Moorish fort that crowns the mountain, when, in 
 gathering pebbles in the fosse, she found a small hand, curi 
 ously carved of jet, the fingers closed, and the thumb firmly 
 clasped upon them. Overjoyed with her good fortune, she 
 ran to her mother with her prize. It immediately became a 
 subject of sage speculation, and was eyed by some with super 
 stitious distrust. "Throw it away," said one, "it is Moorish, 
 depend upon it there s mischief and witchcraft in it." " By 
 no means," said another, "you may sell it for something to 
 the jewellej > the Zacatin." In the midst of this discussion 
 an old tawny soldier drew near, who had served in Africa, and 
 was as swarthy as a Moor. He examined the hand with a 
 knowing look. "I have seen things of this kind," said he, 
 " among the Moors of Barbary. It is of great value to guard 
 against the evil eye, and all kinds of spells and enchantments. 
 I give you joy, friend Lope, this bodes good luck to your 
 child." 
 
 Upon hearing this, the wife of Lope Sanchez tied the little 
 hand of jet to a riband, and hung it round the neck of her 
 daughter. 
 
 The sight of this talisman called up all the favourite super 
 stitions about the Moors. The dance was neglected, and they 
 sat in groups on the ground, telling old legendary tales handed 
 down from their ancestors. Some of their stories turned upon 
 the wonders of the very mountain upon which they were 
 seated, which is a famous hobgoblin region. 
 
 One ancient crone gave a long account of the subterranean 
 palace in the bowels of that mountain, where Boabdil and all 
 his Moslem court are said to remain enchanted. "Among 
 yonder ruins," said she, pointing to some crumbling walls and 
 mounds of earth on a distant part of the mountain, " there is 
 a deep black pit that goes down, down into the very heart of 
 the mountain. For all the money in Granada, I would not 
 look down into it. Once upon a time, a poor man of the Al- 
 hambra, who tended goats upon this mountain, scrambled 
 down into that pit after a kid that had fallen in. He came out 
 
LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 191 
 
 again, all wild and staring, and told such things of what he 
 had seen, that every one thought his brain was turned. He 
 raved for a day or two about hobgoblin Moors that had pur 
 sued him in the cavern, and could hardly be persuaded to 
 drive his goats up again to the mountain. He did so at last, 
 but, poor man, he never came down again. The neighbours 
 found his goats browsing about the Moorish ruins, and his hax 
 and mantle lying near the mouth of the pit, but he was never 
 more heard of." 
 
 The little Sanchica listened with breathless attention to this 
 story. She was of a curious nature, and felt immediately a 
 great hankering to peep into this dangerous pit. Stealing 
 away from her companions, she sought the distant ruins, and 
 after groping for some time among them, came to a small 
 hollow or basin, near the brow of the mountain, where it 
 swept steeply down into the valley of the Darro. In the 
 centre of this basin yawned the mouth of the pit. Sanchica 
 ventured to the verge and peeped in. All was black as pitch, 
 and gave an idea of immeasurable depth. Her blood ran cold 
 she drew back then peeped again then would have run 
 away then took another peep the very horror of the thing 
 was delightful to her. At length she rolled a large stone, and 
 pushed it over the brink. For some time it fell in silence; 
 then struck some rocky projection with a violent crash, then 
 rebounded from side to side, rumbling and tumbling, with a 
 noise like thunder, then made a final splash into water, far, 
 far below, and all was again silent. 
 
 The silence, however, did not long continue. It seemed as 
 if something had been awakened within this dreary abyss. A 
 murmuring sound gradually rose out of the pit like the hum 
 and buzz of a bee-hive. It grew louder and louder ; there was 
 the confusion of voices as of a distant multitude, together with 
 the faint din of arms, clash of cymbals, and clangour of trum 
 pets, as if some army were marshalling for battle in the very 
 bowels of the mountain. 
 
 The child drew off with silent awe, and hastened back to 
 the place where she had left her parents and their companions. 
 All were gone. The bale fire was expiring, and its last wreath 
 of smoke curling up in the moonshine. The distant fires that 
 had blazed along the mountains and in the Vega were all ex 
 tinguished ; every thing seemed to have sunk to repose. San 
 chica called her parents and some of her companions by name, 
 but received no reply. She ran down the side of the mountain, 
 
192 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 and by the gardens of the Generalise, until she arrived in the 
 alley of trees leading to the Alhambra, where she seated herself 
 on a bench of a woody recess to recover breath. The bell from 
 the watch-tower of the Alhambra told midnight. There was 
 a deep tranquillity, as if all nature slept ; excepting the low 
 tinkling sound of an unseen stream that ran under the covert 
 of the bushes. The breathing sweetness of the atmosphere 
 was lulling her to sleep, when her eye was caught by some 
 thing glittering at a distance, and to her surprise, she beheld a 
 long cavalcade of Moorish warriors pouring down the moun 
 tain side, and along the leafy avenues. Some were armed 
 with lances and shields ; others with scimitars and battle-axes, 
 and with polished cuirasses that flashed in the moon-beams. 
 Their horses pranced proudly, and champed upon the bit. but 
 their tramp caused no more sound than if they had been shod 
 with felt, and the riders were aU as pale as death. Among 
 them rode a beautiful lady with a crowned head and long 
 golden locks entwined with pearls. The housings of her 
 palfrey were of crimson velvet embroidered with gold, and 
 swept the earth- but she rode all disconsolate, with eyes ever 
 fixed upon the ground. 
 
 Then succeeded a train of courtiers magnificently arrayed in 
 robes and turbans of divers colours, and amidst these, on a 
 cream-coloured charger, rode king Boabdil el Chico, in a royal 
 mantle covered with jewels, and a crown sparkling with 
 diamonds. The little Sanchica knew him by his yellow beard, 
 and his resemblance to his portrait, which she had often seen 
 in the picture gallery of the Generaliffe. She gazed in wonder 
 and admiration at this royal pageant as it passed glistening 
 among the trees, but though she knew these monarchs, and 
 courtiers, and warriors, so pale and silent, were out of the 
 common course of nature, and things of magic or enchant 
 ment, yet she looked on with a bold heart, such courage did 
 she derive from the mystic talisman of the hand which was 
 suspended about her neck. 
 
 The cavalcade having passed by, she rose and followed. It 
 continued on to the great gate of Justice, which stood wide 
 open; the old invalid sentinels on duty, lay on the stone 
 benches of the Barbican, buried in profound and apparently 
 charmed sleep, and the phantom pageant swept noiselessly by 
 them with flaunting banner and triumphant state. Sanchica 
 would have followed, but, to her surprise, she beheld an open 
 ing in the earth within the Barbican, leading down beneath 
 
LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 193 
 
 the foundations of the tower. She entered for a little distance, 
 and was encouraged to proceed by finding steps rudely hewn 
 in the rock, and a vaulted passage here and there lit up by a 
 silver lamp, which, while it gave light, diffused likewise a 
 grateful fragrance. Venturing on, she came at last to a great 
 hail wrought out of the heart of the mountain, magnificently 
 furnished in the Moorish style, and lighted up by silver and 
 crystal lanlps. Here on an ottoman sat an old man in Moorish 
 dress, with a long white beard, nodding and dozing, with a 
 staff in his hand, which seemed ever to be slipping from his 
 grasp ; while at a little distance, sat a beautiful lady in ancient 
 Spanish dress, with a coronet all sparkling with diamonds, 
 and her hair entwined with pearls, who was softly playing on 
 a silver lyre. The little Sanchica now recollected a story she 
 had heard among the old people of the Alhambra, concerning 
 a Gothic princess confined in the centre of the mountain by 
 an old Arabian magician, whom she kept bound up in magic 
 sleep by. the power of music. 
 
 The lady paused with surprise, at seeing a mortal in that 
 enchanted hall. "Is it the eve of the blessed St. John?" said 
 she. 
 
 " It is," replied Sanchica. 
 
 " Then for one night the magic charm is suspended. Come 
 hither, child, and fear not, I am a Christian like thyself, 
 though bound here by enchantment. Touch my fetters with 
 the talisman that hangs about thy neck, and for this night I 
 shall be free." 
 
 So saying, she opened her robes and displayed a broad 
 golden band round her waist, and a golden chain that fastened 
 lier to the ground. The child hesitated not to apply the little 
 hand of jet to the golden band, and immediately the chain feU 
 to the earth. At the sound the old man awoke, and began to 
 rub his eyes, but the lady ran her fingers over the chords of 
 the lyre, and again he fell into a slumber and began to nod, and 
 his staff to falter in his hand. "Now," said the lady, " touch 
 his staff with the talismanic hand of jet." The child did so, and 
 it fell from his grasp, and he sank in a deep sleep on the otto 
 man. The lady gently laid the silver lyre on the ottoman lean 
 ing it against the head of the sleeping magician, then touching 
 the chords until they vibrated in his ear, "O potent spirit 
 of harmony," said she, "continue thus to hold his senses 
 in thraldom till the return of day." "Now follow me, my 
 child," continued she, "and thou shalt behold the Alhambra as 
 
194 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 it was in the days of its glory, for thou hast a magic talisman 
 that reveals all enchantments." Sanchica followed the lady in 
 silence. They passed up through the entrance of the cavern 
 into the Barbican of the gate of Justice, and thence to the 
 Plaza de las Algibes, or esplanade within the fortress. This 
 was all filled with Moorish soldiery, horse and foot, marshalled 
 in squadrons, with banners displayed. There were royal 
 guards also at the portal, and rows of African blacks with 
 drawn scimitars. No one spoke a word, and Sanchica passed 
 on fearlessly after her conductor. Her astonishment increased 
 on entering the royal palace, in which she had been reared. 
 The broad moonshine lit up all the halls, and courts, and 
 gardens, almost as brightly as if it were day ; but revealed a 
 far different scene from that to which she was accustomed. 
 The walls of the apartments were no longer stained and rent by 
 time. Instead of cobwebs, they were now hung with rich silks 
 of Damascus, and the gildings and arabesque paintings were 
 restored to their original brilliancy and freshness. The halls, 
 instead of being naked and unfurnished, were set out with 
 divans and ottomans of the rarest stuffs, embroidered with 
 pearls, and studded with precious gems, and all the fountains 
 in the courts and gardens were playing. 
 
 The kitchens were again in full operation ; cooks were busied 
 preparing shadowy dishes, and roasting and boiling the phan 
 toms of pullets and partridges ; servants were hurrying to and 
 fro with silver dishes heaped up with dainties, and arranging 
 a delicious banquet. The Court of Lions was thronged with 
 guards, and courtiers, and alfaquis, as in the old times of the 
 Moors ; and at the upper end in the saloon of judgment, sat 
 Boabdil on his throne, surrounded by his court, and swaying a 
 shadowy sceptre for the night. 
 
 Notwithstanding all this throng and seeming bustle, not a 
 voice or footstep was to be heard ; nothing interrupted the mid 
 night silence but the plashing of the fountains. The little 
 Sanchica followed her conductress in mute amazement about 
 the palace, until they came to a portal opening to the vaulted 
 passages beneath the great tower of Comares. On each side of 
 the portal sat the figure of a nymph, wrought out of alabaster. 
 Their heads were turned aside, and their regards fixed upon the 
 same spot within the vault. The enchanted lady paused, and 
 beckoned the child to her. " Here," said she, "is a great se 
 cret, which I will reveal to thee in reward for thy faith and 
 courage. These discreet statues watch over a mighty treasure 
 
LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUtfS, 195 
 
 hidden in old times by a Moorish king. Tell thy father to 
 search the spot on which their eyes are fixed, and he will find 
 what will make him richer than any man in Granada. Thy 
 innocent hands alone, however, gifted as thoti art also with the 
 talisman, can remove the treasure. Bid thy father use it 
 discreetly, and devote a part of it to the performance of 
 daily masses for my deliverance from this unholy enchant 
 ment." 
 
 When the lady had spoken these words, she led the child 
 onward to the little garden of Lindaraxa, which is hard by the 
 vault of the statues. The moon trembled upon the waters of 
 the solitary fountain in the centre of the garden, and shed a 
 tender light upon the orange and citron trees. The beautiful 
 lady plucked a branch of myrtle and wreathed it round the 
 head of the child. "Let this be a memento," said she, "of 
 what I have revealed to thee, and a testimonial of its truth. 
 My hour is come. I must return to the enchanted hall; follow 
 me not, lest evil befall thee ; farewell, remember what I have 
 said, and have masses performed for my deliverance." So say 
 ing, the lady entered a dark passage leading beneath the tow 
 ers of Comares, and was no longer to be seen. 
 
 The faint crowing of a cock was now heard from the cottages 
 below the Alhambra, in the valley of the Darro, and a pale 
 streak of light began to appear above the eastern mountains. 
 A slight wind arose ; there was a sound like the rustling of dry 
 leaves through the courts and corridors, and door after door 
 shut to with a jarring sound. Sanchica returned to the scenes 
 she had so lately beheld thronged with the shadowy multitude, 
 but Boabdil and his phantom court were gone. 
 
 The moon shone into empty halls and galleries, stripped of 
 their transient splendour, stained and dilapidated by time, and 
 hung with cobwebs; the bat flitted about in the uncertain 
 light, and the frog croaked from the fish-pond. 
 
 Sanchica now made the best of her way to a remote staircase 
 that led up to the humble apartment occupied by her family. 
 The door as usual was open, for Lope Sanchez was too poor to 
 need bolt or bar : she crept quietly to her pallet, and, putting 
 the myrtle wreath beneath her pillow, soon fell asleep. 
 
 In the morning she related all that had befallen her to her 
 father. Lope Sanchez, however, treated the whole as a mere 
 dream, and laughed at the child for her credulity. He went 
 forth to his customary labours in the garden, but had not been 
 there long when his little daughter came running to him almost 
 
196 TIIE ALIIAMBRA. 
 
 breathless. "Father! father!" cried she, "behold the myrtle 
 wreath which the Moorish lady bound round my head." 
 
 Lope Sanchez gazed with astonishment, for the stalk of the 
 myrtle was of pure gold, and every leaf was a sparkling emer 
 ald ! Being not much accustomed to precious stones, he was 
 ignorant of the real value of the wreath, but he saw enough to 
 convince him that it was something more substantial than the 
 stuff that dreams are generally made of, and that at any rate 
 the child had dreamt to some purpose. His first care was to 
 enjoin the most absolute secrecy upon his daughter; in this 
 respect, however, he was secure, for she had discretion far be 
 yond her years or sex. He then repaired to the vault where 
 stood the statues of the two alabaster nymphs. He remarked 
 that their heads were turned from the portal, and that the re 
 gards of each were fixed upon the same point in the interior of 
 the building. Lope Sanchez could not but admire this most 
 discreet contrivance for guarding a secret. He drew a line 
 from the eyes of the statues to the point of regard, made a pri 
 vate mark on the wall, and then retired. 
 
 All day, however, the mind of Lope Sanchez was distracted 
 with a thousand cares. He could not help hovering within 
 distant view of the two statues, and became nervous from the 
 dread that the golden secret might be discovered. Every foot 
 step that approached the place, made him tremble. He would 
 have given any thing could he but turn the heads of the statues, 
 forgetting that they had looked precisely in the same direction 
 for some hundreds of years, without any person being the 
 wiser. "A plague upon them," he would say to himself, 
 "they ll betray all. Did ever mortal hear of such a mode 
 of guarding a secret !" Then, on hearing any one advance, he 
 would steal off, as though his very lurking near the pla--e 
 would awaken suspicions. Then he would return cautiously, 
 and peep from a distance to see if every thing was secure, but 
 the sight of the statues would again call forth his indigna 
 tion. "Aye, there they stand," would he say, "always look 
 ing, and looking, and looking, just where they should not. 
 Confound them ! they are just like all their sex ; if they have 
 not tongues to tattle with, they ll be sure to do it with their 
 eyes !" 
 
 At length, to his relief, the long anxious day drew to a close. 
 The sound of footsteps was no longer heard in the echoing 
 halls of the Alhambra ; the last stranger passed the threshold, 
 the great portal was barred and bolted, and the bat, and thQ 
 
LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 197 
 
 frog, and the hooting owl gradually resumed their nightly 
 vocations in the deserted palace. 
 
 Lope Sanchez waited, however, until the night was far ad 
 vanced, before he ventured with his little daughter to the hall- 
 of the two nymphs. He found them looking as knowingly and 
 mysteriously as ever, at the secret place of deposit. "By your 
 leaves, gentle ladies," thought Lope Sanchez as he passed be 
 tween them, "I will relieve you from this charge that must 
 have set so heavy in your minds for the last two or three cen 
 turies." He accordingly went to work at the part of the wall 
 which he had marked, and in a little while laid open a con 
 cealed recess, in which stood two great jars of porcelain. He 
 attempted to draw them forth, but they were immovable until 
 touched by the innocent hand of his little daughter. With her 
 aid he dislodged them from their niche, and found to his great 
 joy, that they were filled with pieces of Moorish gold, mingled 
 with jewels and precious stones. Before daylight he managed 
 to convey them to his chamber, and left the two guardian 
 statues with their eyes still fixed on the vacant waU. 
 
 Lope Sanchez had thus on a sudden become a rich man, but 
 riches, as usual, brought a world of cares, to which he had 
 hitherto been a stranger. How was he to convey away his 
 wealth with safety? How was he even to enter upon the en 
 joyment of it without awakening suspicion? Now too, for the 
 first time in his life, the dread of robbers entered into his mind. 
 He looked with terror at the insecurity of his habitation, 
 and went to work to barricade the doors and windows; yet 
 after all his precautions, he could not sleep soundly. His 
 usual gaiety was at an end ; he had no longer a joke or a song 
 for his neighbours, and, in short, became the most miserable 
 animal in the Alhambra. His old comrades remarked this 
 alteration; pitied him heartily, and began to desert him, 
 thinking he must be falling into want, and in danger of look 
 ing to them for assistance ; little did they suspect that his only 
 calamity was riches. 
 
 The wife of Lope Sanchez shared his anxiety ; but then she 
 had ghostly comfort. "We ought before this to have men 
 tioned, that Lope being rather a light, inconsiderate little man, 
 his wife was accustomed, in all grave matters, to seek the 
 counsel and ministry of her confessor, Fray Simon, a sturdy, 
 broad-shouldered, blue-bearded, bullet-headed friar of the 
 neighbouring convent of San Francisco, who was, in fact, the 
 spiritual comforter of half the good wives of the neighbour- 
 
198 THE ALIIAMBKA. 
 
 hood. He was, moreover, in great esteem among divers 
 sisterhoods of nuns, who requited him for his ghostly services 
 by frequent presents of those little dainties and nicknacks 
 manufactured in convents, such as delicate confections, sweet 
 biscuits, and bottles of spiced cordials, found to be marvellous 
 restoratives after fasts and vigils. 
 
 Fray Simon thrived in the exercise of his functions. His 
 oily skin glistened in the sunshine as he toiled up the hill of the 
 Alhambra on a sultry day. Yet notwithstanding his sleek 
 condition, the knotted rope round his waist showed the au 
 sterity of his self -discipline; the multitude doffed their caps to 
 him as a mirror of piety, and even the dogs scented the odour 
 of sanctity that exhaled from his garments, and howled from 
 their kennels as he passed. 
 
 Such was Fray Simon, the spiritual counsellor of the comely 
 wife of Lope Sanchez, and as the father -confessor is the 
 domestic confidant of women in humble life in Spain, he was 
 soon made acquainted, in great secrecy, with the story of the 
 hidden treasure. 
 
 The friar opened eyes and mouth, and crossed himself a 
 dozen times at the news. After a moment s pause, " Daughter 
 of my soul I" said he, " know that thy husband has committed 
 a double sin, a sin against both state and church ! The trea 
 sure he has thus seized upon for himself, being found in the 
 royal domains, belongs of course to the crown ; but being in 
 fidel wealth, rescued, as it were, from the very fangs of Satan, 
 should be devoted to the church. Still, however, the matter 
 may be accommodated. Bring hither the myrtle wreath." 
 
 When the good father beheld it, his eyes twinkled more than 
 ever, with admiration of the size and beauty of the emeralds. 
 "This," said he, "being the first fruits of this discovery, 
 should be dedicated to pious purposes. I will hang it up as 
 a votive offering before the image of San Francisco in our 
 chapel, and will earnestly pray to him, this very night, that 
 your husband be permitted to remain in quiet possession of 
 your wealth." 
 
 The good dame was delighted to make her peace with 
 heaven at so cheap a rate, and the friar, putting the wreath 
 under his mantle, departed with saintly steps towards his con 
 vent. 
 
 When Lope Sanchez came home, his wife told him what had 
 passed. He was excessively provoked, for he lacked his wife s 
 devotion, and had for some time groaned in secret at the 
 
LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 190 
 
 domestic visitations of the friar. "Woman," said he, "what 
 hast thou done! Thou hast put every thing at hazard bv thv 
 tattling." 
 
 "What!" cried the good woman, "would you forbid my 
 disburdening my conscience to my confessor?" 
 
 " No, wife! confess as many of your own sins as you please; 
 but as to this money-digging, it is a sin of my own, and my 
 conscience is very easy under the weight of it." 
 
 There was no use, however, in complaining; the secret was 
 told, and, like water spilled on the sand, was not again to be 
 gathered. Their only chance was, that the friar would be dis 
 creet. 
 
 The next day, while Lope Sanchez was abroad, there was an 
 humble knocking at the door, and Fray Simon entered with 
 meek and demure countenance. 
 
 "Daughter," said he, "I have prayed earnestly to San 
 Francisco, and he has heard my prayer. In the dead of the 
 night the saint appeared to me in a dream, but with a frowning 
 aspect. "Why," said he, "dost thou pray to me to dispense 
 with this treasure of the Gentiles, when thou seest the pov 
 erty of my chapel? Go to the house of Lope Sanchez, crave 
 in my name a portion of the Moorish gold to furnish two 
 candlesticks for the main altar, and let him possess the residue 
 
 in peace. " 
 
 When the good woman heard of tin s vision, she crossed her 
 self with awe, and going to the secret place where Lope had 
 hid the treasure, she filled a great leathern purse with pieces 
 of Moorish gold, and gave it to the friar. The pious monk be 
 stowed upon her in return, benedictions enough, if paid by 
 heaven, to enrich her race to the latest posterity; then slip 
 ping the purse into the sleeve of his habit, he folded his hands 
 upon his breast, and departed with an air of humble thankful 
 ness. 
 
 When Lope Sanchez heard of this second donation to tl*> 
 church, he had well nigh lost his senses. " Unfortunate man. " 
 cried he, "what will become of me? I shall be robbed by 
 piecemeal ; I shall be ruined and brought to beggary !" 
 
 It was with the utmost difficulty that his wife could pacify 
 him by reminding him of the countless wealth that yet re 
 mained; and how considerate it was for San Francisco to rest 
 contented with so very small a portion. 
 
 Unluckily, Fray Simon had a number of poor relations to be 
 provided for, not to mention some half dozen sturdy, bullet- 
 
200 THE ALttAMBRA. 
 
 headed orphan children and destitute foundlings, that he had 
 taken under his care. He repeated his visits, therefore, from 
 day to day, with salutations on behalf of Saint Dominick, Saint 
 Andrew, Saint James, until poor Lope was driven to despair, 
 and found that, unless he got out of the reach of this holy friar, 
 he should have to make peace offerings to every saint in the 
 kalendar. He determined, therefore, to pack up his remaining 
 wealth, beat a secret retreat in the night, and make off to 
 another part of the kingdom. 
 
 Full of his project, he bought a stout mule for the purpose, 
 and tethered it in a gloomy vault, underneath the tower of the 
 Seven Floors. The very place from whence the Bellado, or 
 goblin horse without a head, is said to issue forth at midnight 
 and to scour the streets of Granada, pursued by a pack of hell 
 hounds. Lope Sanchez had little faith in the story, but availed 
 himself of the dread occasioned by it, knowing that no one 
 would be likely to pry into the subterranean stable of the phan 
 tom steed. He sent off his family in the course of the day, with 
 orders to wait for him at a distant village of the Vega. As the 
 night advanced, he conveyed his treasure to the vault under 
 the tower, and having loaded his mule, he led it forth, and 
 cautiously descended the dusky avenue. 
 
 Honest Lope had taken his measures with the utmost secrecy, 
 imparting them to no one but the faithful wife of his bosom. 
 By some miraculous revelation, however, they became known 
 to Fray Simon ; the zealous friar beheld these infidel treasures 
 on the point of slipping for ever out of his grasp, and deter 
 mined to have one more dash at them for the benefit of the 
 church and San Francisco. Accordingly, when the bells had 
 rung for animas, and all the Alhambra was quiet, he stole out 
 of his convent, and, descending through the gate of Justice, 
 concealed himself among the thickets of roses and laurels that 
 border the great avenue. Here he remained, counting the 
 quarters of hours as they were sounded on the bell of the 
 watch-tower, and listening to the dreary hootings of owls, and 
 the distant barking of dogs from the gipsy caverns. 
 
 At length, he heard the tramp of hoofs, and, through the 
 gloom of the overshadowing trees, imperfectly beheld a steed 
 descending the avenue. The sturdy friar chuckled at the idea 
 of the knowing turn he was about to serve honest Lope. Tuck 
 ing up the skirts of his habit, and wriggling like a cat watching 
 a mouso, he waited until his prey was directly before him, 
 when darting forth from his leafy covert, and putting one hand 
 
LEO END OF THE TWO plSCREET STATUES. 201 
 
 on the shoulder, and the other on the crupper, he made a vault 
 that would not have disgraced the most experienced master of 
 equitation, and alighted well forked astride the steed. "Aha !" 
 said the sturdy friar, "we shall now see who best understands 
 the game." 
 
 He had scarce uttered the words, when the mule began to 
 kick and rear and plunge, and then set off at full speed down 
 the hill. The friar attempted to check him, but in vain. He 
 bounded from rock to rock, and bush to bush ; the friar s habit 
 was torn to ribands, and fluttered in the wind ; his shaven poll 
 received many a hard knock from the branches of the trees, 
 and many a scratch from the brambles. To add to his terror 
 and distress, he found a pack of seven hounds in full cry at his 
 hoels, and perceived, too late, that he was actually mounted 
 upon the terrible Bellado ! 
 
 Away they went, according to the ancient phrase, "pull 
 devil, pull friar," down the great avenue, across the Plaza 
 Nueva, along the Zacatin, around the Vivarambla, never did 
 huntsman and hound make a more furious run, or more infer 
 nal uproar. 
 
 In vain did the friar invoke every saint in the kalendar, and 
 the holy virgin into the bargain ; every time he mentioned a 
 name of the kind, it was like a fresh application of the spur, 
 and made the Bellado bound as high as a house. Through the 
 remainder of the night was the unlucky Fray Simon carried 
 hither and thither and whither he would not, until every bone 
 in his body ached, and he suffered a loss of leather too grievous 
 to be mentioned. At length, the crowing of a cock gave the 
 signal of returning day. At the sound, the goblin steed wheeled 
 about, and galloped back for his tower. Again he scoured the 
 Vivarambla, the Zacatin, the Plaza Nueva, and the avenue of 
 fountains, the seven dogs yelling and barking, and leaping up, 
 and snapping at the heels of the terrified friar. The first stream 
 of day had just appeared as they reached the tower ; here the 
 goblin steed kicked up his heels, sent the friar a somerset 
 through the air, plunged into the dark vault followed by the 
 infernal pack, and a profound silence succeeded to the late 
 deafening clamour. 
 
 Was ever so diabolical a trick played off upon holy friar? 
 A peasant going to his labours at early dawn, found the unfor 
 tunate Fray Simon lying under a fig-tree at the foot of the 
 tower, but so bruised and bedeviled, that he could neither 
 speak nor move. He was conveyed with all care and tender- 
 
202 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 ness bo his cell, and the story went that he had been waylaid 
 and maltreated by robbers. A day or two elapsed before he 
 recovered the use of his limbs : he consoled himself in the mean 
 time, with the thoughts that though the mule with the treasure 
 had escaped him, he had previously had some rare pickings at 
 the infidel spoils. His first care on being able to use his limbb, 
 was to search beneath his pallet, where he had secreted the 
 myrtle wreath and the leathern pouches of gold, extracted from 
 the piety of dame Sanchez. What was his dismay at finding 
 the wreath, in effect, but a withered branch of myrtle, and the 
 leathern pouches filled with sand and gravel ! 
 
 Fray Simon, with all his chagrin, had the discretion to hold 
 his tongue, for to betray the secret might draw on him the 
 ridicule of the public, and the punishment of his superior ; it 
 was not until many years afterwards, on his death-bed, that he 
 revealed to his confessor his nocturnal ride on the Bellado. 
 
 Nothing was heard of Lope Sanchez for a long time after his 
 disappearance from the Alhambra. His memory was always 
 cherished as that of a merry companion, though it was feared, 
 from the care and melancholy showed in his conduct shortly 
 before his mysterious departure, that poverty and distress had 
 driven him to some extremity. Some years afterwards, one of 
 his old companions, an invalid soldier, being at Malaga, was 
 knocked down and nearly run over by a coach and six. The 
 carriage stopped; an old gentleman, magnificently dressed, 
 with a bag- wig and sword, stepped out to assist the poor in 
 valid. What was the astonishment of the latter to behold in 
 this grand cavalier, his old friend Lope Sanchez, who was actu 
 ally celebrating the marriage of his daughter Sanchica, with 
 one of the first grandees in the land. 
 
 The carriage contained the bridal party. There was dame 
 Sanchez now grown as round as a barrel, and dressed out with 
 feathers and jewels, and necklaces of pearls, and necklaces of 
 diamonds, and rings on every finger, and altogether a finery of 
 apparel that had not been seen since the days of Queen Sheba. 
 The little Sanchica had now grown to be a woman, and for 
 grace and beauty might have been mistaken for a duchess, if 
 not a princess outright. The bridegroom sat beside her, rather 
 a withered, spindle-shanked little man, but this only proved 
 him to be of the true blue blood, a legitimate Spanish grandee 
 being rarely above three cubits in stature. The match had been 
 of the mother s making. . 
 
 Biches had not spoiled the heart of honest Lope, He kept 
 
MAHAMAD ABEN ALAHMAR. 203 
 
 his old comrade with him for several days; feasted him like 
 a king, took him to plays and bull-fights, and at length sent 
 him away rejoicing, with a big bag of money for himself, and 
 another to be distributed among his ancient messmates of the 
 Alhambra. 
 
 Lope always gave out that a rich brother had died in 
 America, and left him heir to a copper mine, but the shrewd 
 gossips of the Alhambra insist that his wealth was all derived 
 from his having discovered the secret guarded by the two 
 marble nymphs of the Alhambra. It is remarked, that these 
 very discreet statues continue even unto the present day with 
 their eyes fixed most significantly on the same part of the 
 wall, which leads many to suppose there is still some hidden 
 treasure remaining there, weU worthy the attention of the 
 enterprising traveller. Though others, and particularly all 
 female visitors, regard them with great complacency, as last 
 ing monuments of the fact, that women can keep a secret. 
 
 MAHAMAD ABEN ALAHMAR: 
 
 THE FOUNDER OF THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 HAVING dealt so freely in the marvellous legends of the 
 Alhambra, I feel as if bound to give the reader a few facts 
 concerning its sober history, or rather the history of those 
 magnificent princes, its founder and finisher, to whom Eu 
 rope is indebted for so beautiful and romantic an oriental 
 monument. To attain these facts, I descended from this re 
 gion of fancy and fiction, where everything is liable to take an 
 imaginative tint, and carried my researches among the dusty 
 tomes of the old Jesuit s library in the university. This once 
 boasted repository of erudition is now a mere shadow of its 
 former self, having been stripped of its manuscripts and rarest 
 works by the French, while masters of Granada. Still it con 
 tains, among many ponderous tomes of polemics of the Jesuit 
 fathers, several curious tracts of Spanish literature, and above 
 all, a number of those antiquated, dusty, parchment-bound 
 chronicles, for which I have a peculiar veneration. 
 
 In this old library I have passed many delightful hours of 
 quiet, undisturbed, literary foraging, for the keys of the doors 
 
204 THE ALUAMBRA. 
 
 and bookcases were kindly entrusted to me, and I was left 
 alone to rummage at my leisure a rare indulgence in those 
 sanctuaries of learning, which too often tantalize the thirsty 
 student with the sight of sealed fountains of knowledge. 
 
 In the course of these visits I gleaned the following particu 
 lars concerning the historical characters in question. 
 
 The Moors of Granada regarded the Alhambra as a miracle 
 of art, and had a tradition that the king who founded it dealt 
 in magic, or at least was deeply versed in alchymy, by means 
 of which, he procured the immense sums of gold expended in 
 its erection. A brief view of his reign will show the real secret 
 of his wealth. 
 
 The name of this monarch, as inscribed on the walls of. some 
 of the apartments, was Aben Abd allah (i.e. the father of 
 Abdallah), but he is commonly known in Moorish history as 
 Mahamad Aben Alahmar (or Mahamad son of Alahmar), or 
 simply Aben Alahmar, for the sake of brevity. 
 
 He was born in Arjona, in the year of the Hegira, 591, of the 
 Christian era, 1195, of the noble family of the Beni Nasar, or 
 children of Nasar, and no expense was spared "by his parents 
 to fit him for the high station to which the opulence and 
 dignity of his family entitled him. The Saracens of Spain 
 were greatly advanced in civilization. Every principal city 
 was a seat of learning and the arts, so that it was easy to com 
 mand the most enlightened instructors for a youth of rank 
 and fortune. Aben Alahmar, when he arrived at manly years, 
 was appointed Alcayde or governor of Arjona and Jaen, and 
 gained great popularity by his benignity and justice. Some 
 years afterwards, on the death of Aben Hud, the Moorish 
 power of Spain was broken into factions, and many places 
 declared for Mahamad Aben Alahmar. Being of a sanguine 
 spirit and lofty ambition, he seized upon the occasion, made a 
 circuit through the country, and was every where received 
 with acclamation. It was in the year 1238 that he entered 
 Granada amidst the enthusiastic shouts of the multitude. He 
 was proclaimed king with every demonstration of joy, and 
 soon became the head of the Moslems in Spain, being the first 
 of the illustrious line of Beni Nasar that had sat upon the 
 throne. 
 
 His reign was such as to render him a blessing to his sub 
 jects. He gave the command of his various cities to such as 
 had distinguished themselves by valour and prudence, and 
 who seemed most acceptable to the people. He organized a 
 
MAHAMAD ABEN ALAEMAR. , 205 
 
 vigilant police, and established rigid rules for the administra 
 tion of justice. The poor and the distressed always found 
 ready admission to his presence, and he attended personally 
 to their assistance and redress. He erected hospitals for the 
 blind, the aged, and infirm, and all those incapable of labour, 
 and visited them frequently, not on set days, with pomp and 
 form, so as to give time for every thing to be put in order and 
 every abuse concealed, but suddenly and unexpectedly, in 
 forming himself by actual observation and close inquiry of the 
 treatment of the sick, and the conduct of those appointed to 
 administer to their relief. 
 
 He founded schools and coUeges, which he visited in the 
 same manner, inspecting personally the instruction of the 
 youth. He established butcheries and public ovens, that the 
 people might be furnished with wholesome provisions at just 
 and regular prices. He introduced abundant streams of water 
 into the city, erecting baths and fountains, and constructing 
 aqueducts and canals to irrigate and fertilize the Vega. By 
 these means, prosperity and abundance prevailed in this beau 
 tiful city, its gates were thronged with commerce, and its 
 warehouses filled with the luxuries and merchandize of every 
 clime and country. 
 
 While Mahamad Aben Alahmar was ruling his fair domains 
 thus wisely and prosperously, he was suddenly menaced by 
 the horrors of war. The Christians at that time, profiting 
 by the dismemberment of the Moslem power, were rapidly 
 regaining their ancient territories. James the Conqueror had 
 subjected all Valentia, and Ferdinand the Saint was carrying 
 his victorious armies into Andalusia. The latter invested the 
 city of Jaen, and swore not to raise his camp until he had 
 gained possession of the place. Mahamad Aben Alahmar was 
 conscious of the insufficiency of his means to carry on a war 
 with the potent sovereign of Castile. Taking a sudden resolu 
 tion, therefore, he repaired privately to the Christian camp, 
 and made his unexpected appearance in the presence of king 
 Ferdinand. "In me," said he, "you behold Mahamad, king 
 of Granada. I confide in your good faith, and put myself 
 under your protection. Take aU I possess, and receive me as 
 your vassal." So saying, he knelt and kissed the king s hand 
 in token of submission. 
 
 King Ferdinand was touched by this instance of confiding 
 faith, and determined not to be outdone in generosity. He 
 raised his late rival from the earth and embraced him as a, 
 
206 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 friend, nor would he accept the wealth he offered, but received 
 him as a vassal, leaving him sovereign of his dominions, on 
 condition of paying a yearly tribute, attending the cortes as 
 one of the nobles of the empire, and serving him in war with 
 a certain number of horsemen. 
 
 It was not long after this that Mahamad was called upon for 
 his military services, to aid king Ferdinand in his famous siege 
 of Seville. The Moorish king sallied forth with five hundred 
 chosen horsemen of Granada, than whom none in the world 
 knew better how to manage the steed or wield the lance. Tt 
 was a melancholy and humiliating service, however, for they 
 had to draw the sword against their brethren of the faith. 
 Mahamad gained a melancholy distinction by his prowess in this 
 renowned conquest, but more true honour by the humanity 
 which he prevailed upon Ferdinand to introduce into the usages 
 of war. When in 1248, the famous city of. Seville surrendered to 
 the Castilian monarch, Mahamad returned sad and full of care 
 to his dominions. He saw the gathering ills that menaced the 
 Moslem cause, and uttered an ejaculation often used by him 
 in moments of anxiety and trouble: "How straitened and 
 wretched would be our life, if our hope were not so spacious 
 and extensive." * 
 
 When the melancholy conqueror approached his beloved 
 Granada, the people thronged forth to see him with impatient 
 joy, for they loved him as a benefactor. They had erected 
 arches of triumph in honour of his martial exploits, and wher 
 ever he passed he was hailed with acclamations, as El GaHb, 
 or the conqueror; Mahamad shook his head when he heard the 
 appellation, " Wa le Galib He Aid," exclaimed he: (there is no 
 conqueror but God !) From that time forward, he adopted this 
 exclamation as a motto. He inscribed it on an oblique band 
 across his escutcheon, and it continued to be the motto of his 
 descendants. 
 
 Mahamad had purchased peace by submission to the Chris 
 tian yoke, but he knew that where the elements were so dis 
 cordant, and the motives for hostility so deep and ancient, it 
 could not be secure or permanent. Acting therefore upon an 
 old maxim, " arm thyself in peace; and clothe thyself in sum 
 mer, " he improved the present interval of tranquillity by for 
 tifying his dominions and replenishing his arsenals, and by 
 
 * " Que angoste y miserabile seria nuestra vida, sino fuera tan dilatada y espaciosa 
 Buestra esperanza!" 
 
MARA M AD ABEN ALA TIM AR. 207 
 
 promoting those useful arts which give wealth and real power 
 to an empire. He gave premiums and privileges to the best 
 artisans; improved the breed of horses and other domestic 
 animals; encouraged husbandry; and increased the natural 
 fertility of the soil twofold by his protection, making the lonely 
 valleys of his kingdom to bloom like gardens. He fostered also 
 the growth and fabrication of silk, until the looms of Granada 
 suroassed even those of Syria in the fineness and beauty of 
 their productions. He, moreover, caused the mines of gold 
 and silver, and other metals found in the mountainous regions 
 of his dominions, to be diligently worked, and was the first 
 king of Granada who struck money of gold and silver with his 
 name, taking great care that the coins should be skillfully exe 
 cuted. 
 
 It was about this time, towards the middle of the thirteenth 
 century, and just after his return from the siege of Seville, 
 that he commenced the splendid palace of the Alhambra: 
 superintending the building of it in person, mingling f requently 
 among the artists and workmen, and directing their labours. 
 
 Though thus magnificent in his works, and great in his enter 
 prises, he was simple in his person, and moderate in his enjoy 
 ments. His dress was not merely void of splendour, but so 
 plain as not to distinguish him from his subjects. His harem 
 boasted but few beauties, and these he visited but seldom, 
 though they were entertained with great magnificence. His 
 wives were daughters of the principal nobles, and were treated 
 by him as friends and rational companions ; what is more, he 
 managed to make them live as friends with one Another. 
 
 He passed much of his time in his gardens ; especially in 
 those of the Alhambra, which he had stored with the rarest; 
 plants, and the most beautiful and aromatic flowers. Here ho 
 delighted himself in reading histories, or in causing them to be 
 read and related to him ; and sometimes, in intervals of leisure, 
 employed himself in the instruction of his three sons, for whom 
 he had provided the most learned and virtuous masters. 
 
 As he had frankly and voluntarily offered himself a tributary 
 vassal to Ferdinand, so he always remained loyal to his word, 
 giving him repeated proofs of fidelity and attachment. When 
 that renowned monarch died in Seville, in 1254, Mahamad Aben 
 Alalimar sent ambassadors to condole with his successor, 
 Alonzo X. , and with them a gallant train of a hundred Moorish 
 cavaliers of distinguished rank, who were to attend, each bear 
 ing a lighted taper round the royal bier, during the funeral 
 
208 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 ceremonies. This grand testimonial of respect was repeated 
 by the Moslem monarch during the remainder of his life, on 
 each anniversary of the death of King Fernando el Santo, when 
 the hundred Moorish knights repaired from Granada to Seville, 
 and took their stations with lighted tapers in the centre of the 
 sumptuous cathedral round the cenotaph of the illustrious de 
 ceased. 
 
 Mahamad Aben Alahmar retained his faculties and vigour 
 to an advanced age. In his seventy-ninth year he took the 
 field on horseback, accompanied by the flower of his chivalry, 
 to resist an invasion of his territories. As the army sallied 
 forth from Granada, one of the principal adalides or guides, 
 who rode in the advance, accidentally broke his lance against 
 the arch of the gate. The counsellors of the king, alarmed by 
 this circumstance, which was considered an evil omen, en 
 treated him to return. Their supplications were in vain. The 
 king persisted, and at noon-tide the omen, say the Moorish 
 chroniclers, was fatally fulfilled. Mahamad was suddenly 
 struck with illness, and had nearly fallen from his horse. He 
 was placed on a litter, and borne back towards Granada, but 
 his illness increased to such a degree, that they were obliged to 
 pitch his tent in the Vega. His physicians were filled with 
 consternation, not knowing what remedy to prescribe. In a 
 few hours he died vomiting blood, and in violent convulsions. 
 The Castilian prince, Don Philip, brother of Alonzo X. , was by 
 his side when he expired. His body was embalmed, enclosed 
 in a silver coffin, and buried in the Alhambra, in a sepulchre 
 of precious marble, amidst the unfeigned lamentations of his 
 subjects, who bewailed him as a parent. 
 
 Such was the enlightened patriot prince, who founded the 
 Alhambra, whose name remains emblazoned among its most 
 delicate and graceful ornaments, and whose memory is calcu 
 lated to inspire the loftiest associations in those who tread these 
 fading scenes of his magnificence and glory. Though his un~ 
 dertakings were vast, and his expenditures immense, yet his 
 treasury was always full ; and this seeming contradiction gave 
 rise to the story that he was versed in magic art and possessed 
 of the secret for transmuting baser metals into gold. 
 
 Those who have attended to his domestic policy, as here set 
 forth, will easily understand the natural magic and simple 
 alchymy which made his ample treasury to overflow. 
 
JUSEF ABUL IIAGIAS. 209 
 
 JUSEF ABUL HAGIAS: 
 
 THE FINISHER OF THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 BENEATH the governor s apartment in the Alhambra is the 
 royal Mosque, where the Moorish monarchs performed their 
 private devotions. Though consecrated as a Catholic chapel, 
 it still bears traces of its Moslem origin ; the Saracenic columns 
 with their gilded capitals, and the latticed gallery for the 
 females of the harem, may yet be seen, and the escutcheons of 
 the Moorish kings are mingled on the walls with those of the 
 Castilian sovereigns. 
 
 In this consecrated place perished the illustrious Juscf Abul 
 Hagias, the high-minded prince who completed the Alhambra, 
 and who, for his virtues and endowments, deserves almost 
 equal renown with its magnanimous founder. It is with pleas 
 ure I draw forth from the obscurity in which it has too long 
 remained, the name of another of those princes of a departed 
 and almost forgotten race, who reigned in elegance and splen 
 dour in Andalusia, when all Europe was in comparative bar 
 barism. 
 
 Jusef Abul Hagias (or, as it is sometimes written, Haxis) 
 ascended the throne of ^Jranada in the year 1333, and his per 
 sonal appearance and mental qualities were such as to win all 
 hearts, and to awaken anticipations of a beneficent and pros 
 perous reign. He was of a noble presence and great bodily 
 strength, united to manly beauty. His complexion was ex 
 ceeding fair, and, according to the Arabian chroniclers, he 
 heightened the gravity and majesty of his appearance by suf 
 fering his beard to grow to a dignified length, and dyeing it 
 black. He had an excellent memory, well stored with science 
 and erudition; he was of a lively genius, and accounted the 
 best post of his time, and his manners were gentle, affable, and 
 urbane. 
 
 Jusef possessed the courage common to all generous spirits, 
 but his genius was more calculated for peace than war, and, 
 though obliged to take up arms repeatedly in his time, he was 
 generally unfortunate. He carried the benignity of his nature 
 into warfare, prohibiting all wanton cruelty, and, enjoining 
 mercy and protection towards women and children, tite aged 
 
210 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 and infirm, and all friars and persons of holy and recluse life. 
 Among other ill-starred enterprises, he undertook a great cam 
 paign in conjunction with the king of Morocco, against the 
 kings of Castile and Portugal, but was defeated in the memor 
 able battle of Salado ; a disastrous reverse which had nearly 
 proved a death blow to the Moslem power in Spain. 
 
 Juscf obtained a long truce after this defeat, during which 
 time he devoted himself to the instruction of his people and the 
 improvement of their morals and manners. For this purpose 
 he established schools in all the villages, with simple and uni 
 form systems of education ; he obliged every hamlet of more 
 than twelve houses to have a Mosque, and prohibited various 
 abuses and indecorums, that had been introduced into the cere 
 monies of religion, and the festivals and public amusements of 
 the people. He attended vigilantly to the police of the city, 
 establishing nocturnal guards and patrols, and superintending 
 all municipal concerns. 
 
 His attention was also directed towards finishing the great 
 architectural works commenced by his predecessors, and erect 
 ing others on his own plans. The Alhambra, which had been 
 founded by the good Aben Alahmar, was now completed. 
 Jusef constructed the beautiful gate of Justice, forming the 
 grand entrance to the fortress, which he finished in 1348. He 
 likewise adorned many of the courts and halls of the palace, as 
 maybe seen by the inscriptions on the walls, in which his name 
 repeatedly occurs. He built also the noble Alcazar, or citadel 
 of Malaga ; now unfortunately a mere iftass of crumbling ruins, 
 but which probably exhibited in its interior similar elegance 
 and magnificence with the Alhambra. 
 
 The genius of a sovereign stamps a character upon his time. 
 The nobles of Granada, imitating the elegant and graceful taste 
 of Jusef, soon filled the city of Granada with magnificent pal 
 aces ; the halls of which were paved in Mosaic, the walls and 
 ceilings wrought in fret-work, and delicately gilded and painted 
 with azure, vermilion, and other brilliant colours, or minutely 
 inlaid with cedar and other precious woods ; specimens of which 
 have survived in all their lustre the lapse of several centuries. 
 
 Many of the houses had fountains, which threw up jets of 
 water to refresh and cool the air. They had lofty towers also, 
 of wood or stone, curiously carved and ornamented, and cov 
 ered with plates of metal that glittered in the sun. Such was 
 the refined and delicate taste in architecture that prevailed 
 among this* elegant people ; insomuch, that to use the beautiful 
 
JUSEF ABUL HAOIA8. 211 
 
 simile of an Arabian writer, "Granada, in the days of Jusef, 
 was as a silver vase filled with emeralds and jacinths." 
 
 One anecdote will be sufficient to show the magnanimity of 
 this generous prince. The long truce which had succeeded the 
 battle of Salado was at an end, and every effort of Jusef to 
 renew it was in vain. His deadly foe, Alfonso XI. of Castile, 
 took the field with great force, and laid siege to Gibraltar. 
 Jusef reluctantly took up arms, and sent troops to the relief of 
 the place ; when, in the midst of his anxiety, he received tidings 
 that his dreaded foe had suddenly fallen a victim to the plague. 
 Instead of manifesting exultation on the occasion, Jusef called 
 to mind the great qualities of the deceased, and was touched 
 with a noble sorrow. "Alas!" cried he, "the world has lost 
 one of its most excellent princes ; a sovereign who knew how 
 to honour merit, whether in friend or foe I" 
 
 The Spanish chroniclers themselves bear witness to this mag 
 nanimity. According to their accounts, the Moorish cavaliers 
 partook of the sentiment of their king, and put on mourning 
 for the death of Alfonso. Even those of Gibraltar, who had 
 been so closely invested, when they knew that the hostile mon 
 arch lay dead in his camp, determined among themselves that 
 no hostile movement should be made against the Christians. 
 
 The day on which the camp was broken up, and the army 
 departed, bearing the corpse of Alfonso, the Moors issued in 
 multitudes from Gibraltar, and stood mute and melancholy, 
 watching the mournful pageant. The same reverence for the 
 deceased was observed by all the Moorish commanders on the 
 frontiers, who suffered the lunerai train to pass in safety, 
 bearing the corpse of the Christian sovereign from Gibraltar to 
 Seville.* 
 
 Jusef did not long survive the enemy he had so generously 
 deplored. In the year 1354, as he was one day praying in the 
 royal mosque of the Alhambra, a maniac rushed suddenly 
 from behind, and plunged a dagger in his side. The cries of 
 the king brought his guards and courtiers to his assistance. 
 They found him weltering in his blood, and in convulsions. 
 He was borne to the royal apartments, but expired almost im- 
 
 * " Y los Moros que estaban en la villa y Castillo de Gibraltar despues que sopieron 
 que el Key Don Alonzo era muerto, ordenaron entresi que ninguno non fuesse 
 osado de fazer ningun movimiento contra los Christianos, nin mover pelear contra 
 ellos, estovieron todos quedos y dezian entre ellos que aquel dia muriera un noble 
 fey y gran principe del mundo!" 
 
THE ALUAMmiA. 
 
 mediately. The murderer was cut to pieces, and his limbs 
 burnt in public, to gratify the fury of the populace. 
 
 The body of the king was interred in a superb sepulchre of 
 white marble ; a long epitaph in letters of gold upon an azure 
 ground recorded his virtues. " Here lies a king and martyr of 
 an illustrious line, gentle, learned and virtuous ; renowned for 
 the graces of his person and his manners; whose clemency, 
 piety and benevolence were extolled throughout the kingdom 
 of Granada. He was a great prince, an illustrious captain ; a 
 sharp sword of the Moslems ; a valiant standard-bearer among 
 the most potent monarchs," etc. 
 
 The mosque still remains, which once resounded with the 
 dying cries of Jusef, but the monument which recorded his 
 virtues has long since disappeared. His name, however, re 
 mains inscribed among the ornaments of the Alhambra, and 
 will be perpetuated in connection with this renowned pile, 
 which it was his pride and delight to beautify. 
 
 THE KID. 
 
THE 
 
 CONQUEST OF GRANADA, 
 
 WASHINGTON IRVING. 
 
 CHICAGO, NEW YORK, AND SAN FRANCISCO s 
 
 BELFORD, CLARKE & CO., 
 PUBLISHERS. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 VOLUME I. 
 
 CHAPTER PAOE 
 
 Introduction 3 
 
 I. Of the Kingdom of Granada, and the Tribute which it paid to the 
 
 Castilian Crown 7 
 
 II. How the Catholic Sovereigns sent t o demand Arrears of Tribute of 
 
 the Moor, and how the Moor replied 10 
 
 III. How the Moor determined to strike the First Blow in War 13 
 
 IV. Expedition of Muley Aben Hassan, against the Fortress of Zahara. . . 15 
 V. Expedition of the Marques of Cadiz against Alhama 18 
 
 VI. How the People of Granada were affected on hearing of the Capture 
 
 of Alhama, and how the Moorish King sallied forth to regain it 25 
 
 VH. How the Duke of Medina Sidonia, and the Chivalry of Andalusia, 
 
 hastened to the Relief of Alhama 31 
 
 VHI. Sequel of the Events at Alhama 34 
 
 IX. Events at Granada, and Rise of the Moorish King Boabdil el Chico. . . 38 
 
 X. Royal Expedition against Loxa 42 
 
 XI. How Muley Aben Hassan made a Foray into the Lands of Medina 
 
 Sidonia, and how he was received 48 
 
 XH. Foray of Spanish Cavaliers among the Mountains of Malaga 53 
 
 XIH. Effects of the Disasters among the Mountains of Malaga 63 
 
 XIV. How King Boabdil el Chico marched over the Border 66 
 
 XV. How the Count de Cabra sallied forth from his Castle in quest of 
 
 King Boabdil 69 
 
 XVI. The Battle of Lucena 73 
 
 XVH. Lamentations of the Moors for the Battle of Lucena 78 
 
 XVHI. How Muley Aben Hassan profited by the Misfortunes of his Son 
 
 Boabdil 81 
 
 XJX, Captivity of Boabdil el Chico..,,,..,,., , ,,, g? 
 
2 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER pAGB . 
 
 XX. Treatment of Boabdil by the Castilian Sovereigns 8^ 
 
 XXI. Return of Boabdil from Captivity gg 
 
 XXII. Foray of the Moorish Alcaydes, and the Battle of Lopera 92 
 
 XXIII. Retreat of Hamet el Zegri, Alcayde of Ronda 99 
 
 XXIV. Of the Reception at Court of the Count de Cabra and the Alcayde de 
 
 los Donzeles 102 
 
 XXV. How the Marquis of Cadiz concerted to surprise Zahara and the 
 
 Result of his Enterprise 105 
 
 XXVI. Of the Fortress of Alhama, and how wisely it was governed by the 
 
 Count de Tendilla 109 
 
 XXVII. Foray of Christian Knights into the Territory of the Moors 114 
 
 XXVIII. Attempt of El Zagal to surprise Boabdil in Almeria 118 
 
 XXIX. How Ferdinand commenced another Campaign against the Moors, 
 
 and how he laid Siege to Coinann Cartama 121 
 
 XXX. Siege of Ronda 125 
 
 XXXI. How the People of Granada invited El Zagal to the Throne, and how 
 
 he marched to the Capital 129 
 
 XXXII. How the Count de Cabra attempted to capture another King, and how 
 
 he fared in his Attempt 133 
 
 XXXIII. Expedition against the Castles of Cambil and Albahar 138 
 
 XXXIV. Enterprise of the Knights of Calatrava against Zalea 144 
 
 XXXV. Death of Muley Aben Hassan 147 
 
 XXXVI. Of the Christian Army which assembled at the City of Cordova 150 
 
 XXXVII. How fresh Commotions broke out in Granada, and how the People 
 
 undertook to allay them 155 
 
 XXXVIII. How King Ferdinand held a Council of War, at the Rock of the 
 
 Lovers 157 
 
 XXXIX. How the Royal Army appeared before the City of Loxa, and how it 
 
 was received, and of the doughty Achievements of the English Earl 160 
 
 XL. Conclusion of the Siege of Loxa 164 
 
 XLI. Capture of Illora 166 
 
 XLII. Of the Arrival of Queen Isabella at the Camp before Moclin, and of 
 
 the pleasant Sayings of the English Earl 168 
 
 XLIII. How King Ferdinand attacked Moclin, and of the strange Events 
 
 that attended its Capture 172 
 
 XLIV. How King Ferdinand foraged the Vega, and of the* Battle of the 
 
 Bridge of Pinos, and the Fate of the two Moorish Brothers 175 
 
 XLV. Attempt of El Zagal upon the Life of Boabdil, and how the Latter 
 
 was roused to Action . 180 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 VOLUME II. 
 
 CHAPTHR PAGE 
 
 I. How Boabdil returned secretly to Granada, and how he was received 183 
 II. How King Ferdinand laid Siege to Velez Malaga 185 
 
 III. How King Ferdinand and his Army were exposed to imminent Peril 
 
 before the Velez Malaga 192 
 
 IV. Result of the Stratagem of El Zagal to surprise King Ferdinand 196 
 
 V. How the People of Granada rewarded the Valor of El Zagal 199 
 
 VI. Surrender of Velez Malaga and other Places 201 
 
 VII. Of the City of Malaga, and its Inhabitants. Mission of Hernando del 
 
 Pulgar 204 
 
 VIII. Advance of Kiug Ferdinand against Malaga 208 
 
 IX. Siege of Malaga 211 
 
 X. Siege of Malaga, continued. Obstinacy of Hamet el Zegri 213 
 
 XI. Attack of the Marquis of Cadiz upon Gibralfaro 216 
 
 XII. Siege of Malaga, continued. Stratagems of various kinds 218 
 
 XIII. Sufferings of the People of Malaga 221 
 
 XIV. How a Moorish Santon undertook to deliver the City of Malaga from 
 
 the Power of its Enemies 224 
 
 XV. How Hamet el Zegri was hardened in his Obstinacy by the Arts of a 
 
 Moorish Astrologer 227 
 
 XVI. Siege of Malaga, continued. Destruction of a Tower, by Francisco 
 
 Ramirez de Madrid 2SO 
 
 XVII. How the People of Malaga expostulated with Hamet el Zegri 231 
 
 XVIII. How Hamet el Zegri sallied forth with the Sacred Banner, to attack 
 
 the Christian Camp 234 
 
 XIX. How the City of Malaga capitulated 237 
 
 XX. Fulfillment of the Prophecy of the Dervise. Fate of Hamet el Zegri. 241 
 
 XXI. How the Castilian Sovereigns took Possession of the City of Malaga, 
 and how King Ferdinand signalized himself by his Skill in bargain 
 ing with the Inhabitants for their Ransom 243 
 
 XXII. How King Ferdinand prepared to carry the War into a different Part 
 
 of the Territories of the Moors 248 
 
 XXIII. How King Ferdinand invaded the Eastern Side of the Kingdom of 
 
 Granada, and how he was received by El Zagal 252 
 
 XXIV. How the Moors made various Enterprises against the Christians 255 
 
 XXV. How King Ferdinand prepared to besiege the City of Baza, and how 
 
 the City prepared for Defence 257 
 
 XXVI. The Battle of the Gardens before Baza 261 
 
 XXVII. Siege of Baza. Embarrassments of the Army 265 
 
 XXVm. Siege of Baza, continued. "How King Ferdinand completely invested 
 
 the City 268 
 
4 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXIX. Exploit of Hernando Perez del Pulgar, and other Cavaliers. 270 
 
 XXX. Continuation of the Siege of Baza 273 
 
 XXXI. How two Friars arrived at the Camp, and how they came from the 
 
 Holy Land 275 
 
 XXXII. How Queen Isabella devised Means to supply the Army with provi 
 sions 280 
 
 XXXIII. Of the Disasters which befell the Camp 282 
 
 XXXIV. Encounters between the Christians and Moors before Baza, and the 
 
 Devotion of the Inhabitants to the Defence of their City 285 
 
 XXXV. How Queen Isabella arrived at the Camp, and the Consequences of 
 
 her Arrival 287 
 
 XXXVI. Surrender of Baza 290 
 
 XXXVII. Submission of El Zagal to the Castilian Sovereigns 295 
 
 XXXVIII. Events of Granada, subsequent to the Submission of El Zagal 298 
 
 XXXIX. How King Ferdinand turned his Hostilities against the City of 
 
 Granada 302 
 
 XL. The Fate of the Castle of Roma 306 
 
 XLI. How Boabdil el Chico took the Field, and his Expedition against 
 
 Alhendin 309 
 
 XLII. Exploit of the Count de Tendilla 311 
 
 XLIII. Expedition of Boabdil el Chico against Salobrefia. Exploit of Her 
 nando Perez del Pulgar 314 
 
 XLIV. How King Ferdinand treated the People of Guadix, and how El 
 
 Zagal finished his Regal Career 319 
 
 XLV. Preparations of Granada for a Desperate Defence 322 
 
 XLVI. How King Ferdinand conducted the Siege cautiously, and how Queen 
 
 Isabella arrived at the Camp 826 
 
 XLVII. Of the Insolent Defiance of Yarfe the Moor, and the Daring Exploit 
 
 of Hernando Perez del Pulgar 328 
 
 XLVHI. How Queen Isabella took a View of the City of Granada, and how 
 
 her Curiosity cost the Lives of many Christians and Moors 329 
 
 XLIX. Conflagration of the Christian Camp 335 
 
 L. The last Ravage before Granada 337 
 
 LI. Building of the City of Santa F6. Despair of the Moors 340 
 
 LH. Capitulation of Granada 343 
 
 LIII. Commotions in Granada 346 
 
 LIV. Surrender of Granada 349 
 
 LV. How the Castilian Sovereigns took Possession of Granada 352 
 
 APPENDIX: 
 
 Fate of Boabdil el Chico 355 
 
 Death of the Marquis of Cadiz 358 
 
 Legend of the Death of Don Alonzo de Aguilar . . 861 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ALTHOUGH the following Chronicle bears the name of the 
 venerable Fray Antonio Agapida, it is rather a superstructure 
 reared upon the fragmants which remain of his work. It may 
 be asked, Who is this same Agapida, who is cited with such 
 deference, yet whose name is not to be found in any of the 
 catalogues of Spanish authors? The question is hard to an 
 swer : he appears to have been one of the many indefatigable 
 authors of Spain, who have filled the libraries of convents and 
 cathedrals with their tomes, without ever dreaming of bring 
 ing their labors 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 triumphs of the cross and the 
 sword. It is deeply to be regretted, therefore, that his manu 
 scripts, deposited in the libraries of various convents, have 
 been dispersed during the late convulsions in Spain, so that 
 nothing is now to be met of them but disjointed 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 
 manuscript of the worthy Fray Antonio will be adopted, 
 wherever it exists entire ; but will be filled up, extended, illus 
 trated, and corroborated, by citations from various authors, 
 both Spanish and Arabian, who have treated of the subject. 
 Those who may wish to know how far the work is indebted to 
 the chronicle of Fray Antonio Agapida, may readily satisfy 
 their curiosity by referring to his manuscript fragments, which 
 are carefully preserved in the library of the Escurial. 
 
 Before entering upon the history, it may be as well to noticQ 
 
4 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the opinions of certain of the most learned and devout histori 
 ographers of former times, relative to this war. 
 
 Marinus Siculus, historian to Charles V., pronounces it a 
 war to avenge the ancient injuries received by the Christians 
 from the Moors, to recover the kingdom of Granada, and to 
 extend the name and honor 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 centu 
 ries under the diabolical oppression of the absurd sect of Ma 
 homet, should at length be reduced to the Christian faith, t 
 
 Padre Mariana, also, a venerable Jesuit, and the most re 
 nowned historian of Spain, considers the past domination of the 
 Moors as a scourge inflicted on the Spanish nation, for its ini 
 quities ; but the triumphant war with Granada, as the reward 
 of Heaven for its great act of propitiation in establishing the 
 glorious tribunal 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 favor, the nation increased in power, and be 
 came competent to m r erthrow and trample down the Moorish 
 domination. I 
 
 Having thus cited high and venerable authority for consid 
 ering this war in the light of one of those pious enterprises 
 denominated crusades, we trust we have said enough to en 
 gage the Christian reader to follow us into the field, and to 
 stand by us to the very issue of the encounter. 
 
 * Lucio Marino Siculo. Cosas Memorabiles de Espafia, lib. 20. 
 t Garibay. Corapend. Hist. Espafia, lib. 18, a 22. 
 t Mariana. Hist. Espafia, lib. 25, i. 1. 
 
A CHRONICLE 
 
 OF 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 OF THE KINGDOM OF GRANADA, AND THE TRIBUTE WHICH IT 
 PAID TO THE CASTILIAN CROWN. 
 
 THE history of those bloody and disastrous wars, which have 
 caused the downfall of mighty empires, (observes Fray Anto 
 nio Agapida,) has ever been considered a study highly delecta 
 ble, and full of precious edification. What then must be the 
 history of a pious crusade, waged by the most Catholic of 
 sovereigns, to rescue from the power of the Infidels one of the 
 most beautiful but benighted regions of the globe? Listen 
 then, while, from the solitude of my cell, I relate the events 
 of the conquest of Granada, where Christian knight and tur- 
 baned Infidel disputed, inch jy inch, the fair land of Andalu 
 sia, until the crescent, that symbol of heathenish abomination, 
 was cast down, and the blessed cross, the tree of our redemp 
 tion, erected in its stead. 
 
 Nc../ly eight hundred years were past and gone, since the 
 Arabian invaders had sealed the perdition of Spain, by the 
 defeat 01 Don Roderick, the last of her Gothic kings. Since 
 that disastrous event, kingdom after kingdom had been gradu 
 ally recovered by the Christian princes, until the single, but 
 powerful, territory of ^ranada alone remained under domina 
 tion of the Moors. 
 
 This renowned kingdom was situated 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 
 
g THE CONQUEST -OF IRAN AD A. 
 
 Sterility Of the surrounding heights was repaid by prodigal 
 fertility. The city of Granada lay in the centre of the king 
 dom, sheltered as it were in the lap of the Sierra Nevada, or 
 chain of snowy mountains. It covered two lofty hills, and a 
 deep valley which divides thsm, through which flows the river 
 Darro. One of these hills was crowned by the royal palace 
 and fortress of the Alhambra, capable of containing forty 
 thousand men within its walls and towers. There is a Moor 
 ish tradition, that the king who built this mighty pile, was 
 skilled in the occult sciences, and furnished himself with gold 
 and silver for the purpose by means of alchemy.* 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 with 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 num 
 ber 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 appear 
 ance .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 ele 
 vation of the city, and the neighborhood of the Sierra Nevada 
 crowned with perpetual snows, tempered the fervid rays of 
 summer; so that, while other cities were panting with the sul 
 try 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 vega or plain, which 
 spread out to a circumference of thirty-seven leagues, sur 
 rounded by lofty mountains. It was a vast garden of delight, 
 refreshed by numerous fountains, and by the silver windings 
 of the Xenil. The labor and ingenuity of the Moors had 
 
 * Zurita, lib. 20, c. 43, 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 9 
 
 diverted the waters of this river into thousands of rills and 
 streams, and diffused them over the whole surface of the 
 plain. Indeed, they had wrought up this happy region to a 
 degree of wonderful prosperity, and took a pride in decorating 
 it, as if it had been a favorite mistress. The hills were clothed 
 with orchards and vineyards, the valleys embroidered with 
 gardens, and the wide plains covered with waving grain. 
 Here were seen in profusion the orange, the citron, the fig, and 
 pomegranate, with great 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 rejoiced by the perpet 
 ual song of the nightingale. In a word, so beautiful was the 
 earth, so pure the air, and so sei 3ne the sky, of this delicious 
 region, that the Moors imagined the paradise of their Prophet 
 to be situated in that part of the heaven which overhung the 
 kingdom of Granada.* 
 
 This ricn and populous territory had been left in quiet pos 
 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 
 default of captives, an equal number of Moors to be surrendered 
 as slaves; all to be delivered in the city of Cordova. t 
 
 At the era at which this chronicle commences, Ferdinand 
 and Isabella, of glorious and happy memory, reigned over the 
 united kingdoms of Castile, Leon, and Arragon; 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 Isa 
 bella, was king of Castile and Leon. He was of the illustrious 
 lineage of Mohammed Aben Alaman, the first Moorish king of 
 Granada, and was the most potent of his line. He had in fac, t 
 augmented in power, in consequence of the fall of other Moor 
 ish kingdoms, which had been conquered by the Christians. 
 Many cities and strong places of those kingdoms, which lay 
 contiguous to Granada, had refused to submit to Christian vas 
 salage, and had sheltered themselves under the protection of 
 Muley Aben Hassan. His territories had thus increased in 
 wealth, extent, and population, beyond all former example, and 
 contained fourteen cities and ninety-seven fortified towns, 
 
 * Juan Botero Benes. Relaeiones Universales del Mundo. 
 t Garibay. Compend. lib. 4, c. 25. 
 
10 THE CONQUEST OP OR AN AD A. 
 
 besides numerous unwalled towns and villages, defended by 
 formidable castles. The spirit of Muley Aben Hassan swelled 
 with his possessions. 
 
 The tribute 1 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 Castilians ; 
 and so indignant was the proud son of Af ric at what he-consid 
 ered 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, " 
 says the Catholic Fray Antonio Agapida; "his bitterness 
 against the holy Christian faith had been signalized in battle, 
 during the life-time of his father; and the same diabolical 
 spirit of hostility was apparent in his ceasing to pay this most 
 righteous tribute." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 HOW THE CATHOLIC SOVEREIGNS SENT TO DEMAND ARREARS OP 
 TRIBUTE OF THE MOOR, AND HOW THE MOOR REPLIED. 
 
 IN the year 1478, a Spanish courtier, of powerful frame and 
 haughty demeanor, arrived at the gates of Granada, as ambas 
 sador from the Catholic monarchs, to demand the arrear of 
 tribute. His name was Don Juan de Vera, a zealous and de 
 vout knight, full of ardor 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 stern 
 and lofty demeanor 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 famous 
 tilt Avith reeds, for which they were so renowned ; for it was 
 still the custom of the knights of either nation to mingle 
 in these courteous and chivalrous contests, during the intervals 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. H 
 
 of war. When they learnt, however, that he was come to 
 demand the tribute so abhorrent to the ears of the fiery mon 
 arch, they observed that it well required a warrior of his 
 apparent nerve, to execute such an embassy. 
 
 Muley Aben Hassan received the cavalier in state, seated on 
 a magnificent divan, and surrounded by the officers of his 
 court, 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 curled 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 scimitars and heads of lances."* 
 
 The defiance couched in this proud reply, was heard with 
 stern 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 
 fountain, he fell into a discourse with the Moorish courtiers on 
 certain mysteries of the Christian faith. The arguments ad 
 vanced by those Infidels (says Fray Antonio Agapida) awak 
 ened 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 ineffable scorn upon the weak casuists 
 around him. The quick and subtle Arabian witlings redoubled 
 their light attacks upon this stately Spaniard, and thought 
 they had completely foiled him in the contest ; but the stern 
 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 
 Abeucerrages, daring to question, with a sneer, the immacu 
 late conception of the blessed virgin, the Catholic knight could 
 no longer restrain his ire. Raising 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 Aben Hassan overheard the tumult, and forbade all 
 appeal to arms, pronouncing the person of the ambassador 
 
 * Garibay. Oompend. lib. 40, c. 29. Conde. Hist, de les Arabes, p. 4, c. 34. 
 
12 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 
 lady to grant him an opportunity of proving her immaculate 
 conception on the head of this turbaned Infidel.* 
 
 Notwithstanding this occcurrence, Don Juan de Vera was 
 treated with great distinction by Muley Aben Hassan; but 
 nothing could make him unbend from his stern and stately 
 reserve. Before his departure, a scimitar was sent to him by 
 the king; the blade of the finest Damascas 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 present. " 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 their brief 
 sojourn at Granada, learned the force, and situation of the 
 Moor, with the eyes of practiced 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 precious 
 stones, and other rich merchandise, the luxuries of every 
 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 
 
 * The Curate of Los Palacios also records this anecdote, but mentions it as hap 
 pening on a subsequent occasion, when Don Juan de Vera was sent to negotiate for 
 certain Christian captives. There appears every reason, however, to consider Fray 
 Antonio Agapida most correct in the period to which he refers it. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 13 
 
 slowly through the country, to the Christian frontier. Every 
 town was strongly fortified. The vega was studded with tow 
 ers of refuge for the peasantry ; every pass of the mountain 
 had its castle of defence, every lofty height its watch-tower. 
 As the Christian cavaliers passed under the walls of the for 
 tresses, lances and scimitars flashed from their battlements, 
 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 enter 
 prise ; 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 at the thoughts, 
 and they were impatient for hostilities ; "not," says Antonio 
 Agapida, " for any thirst for rapine and revenge, but from that 
 pure and holy indignation which every Spanish knight enter 
 tained at beholding this beautiful dominion of his ancestors 
 defiled by the footsteps of Infidel usurpers. It was impossi 
 ble," 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 monarchs." 
 
 When Don Juan de Vera returned to the Castilian court, 
 and reported the particulars of his mission, and all that he had 
 heard and seen in the Moorish territories, he was highly hon 
 ored and rewarded by king- Ferdinand ; and the zeal he had 
 shown in vindication of the sinless conception of the blessed 
 virgin, w- ot only applauded by that most Catholic of sov 
 ereigns, but gained him great favor and renown among all 
 pious cavaliers and reverend prelates. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 HOW THE MOOR DETERMINED TO STRIKE THE FIRST BLOW IN 
 THE WAR. 
 
 THE defiance thus hurled at the Castilian sovereigns by the 
 fiery Moorish king, would at once have been answered by the 
 thunder of their artillery ; but they were embroiled, at that 
 time, in a war with 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 fair 
 
14 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 ground for war. whenever the favorable moment to wage it 
 should arrive. 
 
 In the course of three year , the war with Portugal was ter 
 minated, and the factions of the Spanish nobles were, for the 
 most 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 conquest of 
 Granada, and the complete extirpation of the Moslem power 
 from Spain. Ferdinand, whose pious zeal was quickened by 
 motives of temporal policy, looked with a craving eye at the 
 rich territory of the Moor, studded with innumerable towns 
 and cities. He determined to carry on the war with cautious 
 and persevering patience, taking town after town and fortress 
 after fortress, and gradually plucking away all the supports, 
 before he attempted the Moorish capital. k I will pick out the 
 seeds, one by one, of this pomegranate, " said the wary Fer 
 dinand.* 
 
 Muley Aben Hassan was aware of the hostile intentions of 
 the Catholic monarch, but felt confident in his means of 
 resisting them. He had amassed great wealth, during a tran 
 quil 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 emergency. His subjects 
 were fierce of spirit, stout of heart, and valiant of hand. In 
 ured to the exercises of war, they could fight skilfully on foot, 
 but, above all, were dexterous horsemen, whether heavily 
 armed and fully appointed, or lightly mounted a la geneta, 
 with simply lance and target. They were patient of fatigue, 
 hunger, thirst, and nakedness; prompt for war, at the first 
 summons 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 sound of trumpet, or regular encamp 
 ment, and that they did not last above three days.f This gave 
 
 * Granada is the Spanish term for pomegranate. 
 
 t Zurita. Anales de Aragon, 1. 30, c. 41. Mariana. Hist, de Espafia, 1. 25, c. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 15 
 
 rise to frequent enterprises of a hardy and adventurous char 
 acter, in which castles and strongholds were taken by surprise, 
 and carried sword in hand. A long time had elapsed, how 
 ever, without any outrage of the kind on the part of the 
 Moors ; and the Christian towns on the frontiers had all, in 
 consequence, fallen into a state of the most negligent security. 
 
 Muley Aben Hassan cast his eyes round to select his object 
 of attack, when information was brought him that the for 
 tress of Zahara was but feebly garrisoned and scantily sup 
 plied, and that its alcayde was careless of his charge. This 
 important post was on the frontier, between Honda and Me 
 dina 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. 
 The 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 
 weak points, and require unremitting vigilance to guard 
 them: let warrior and dame take warning from the fate of 
 Zahara. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 EXPEDITION OF MULEY ABEN HASSAN AGAINST THE FORTRESS OF 
 
 ZAHARA. 
 
 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 Aben Hassan made his fa 
 mous 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 probable 
 that an enemy would be abroad during such an uproar of the 
 elements. But evil spirits work best during a storm, (observe 
 
16 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 the worthy Antonio Agapida,) and Muley Aben Hassan found 
 such a season most suitable for his diabolical purposes. In the 
 midst of the night, an uproar arose within the walls of Zahara, 
 more awful than the raging of the storm. A fearful alarm cry 
 " The Moor! the Moor!" resounded through the streets, min 
 gled with the clash of arms, the shriek of anguish, and the 
 shout of victory. Muley Aben Hassan, at the head of a power 
 ful force, had hurried from Granada, and passed unobserved 
 through the mountains in the obscurity of the tempest. While 
 the storm pelted the sentinel from his post, and howled round 
 tower and battlement, the Moors had planted their scaling- 
 ladders, and mounted securely, into both town and castle. 
 The garrison was unsuspicious of danger, until battle and 
 massacre burst forth within its very walls. It seemed to 
 the affrighted inhabitants, as if the fiends of the air had come 
 upon the wings of the wind, and possessed themselves 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 
 scimitar 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 clash of arms ceased ; 
 and the storm continued its howling, mingled with the occa 
 sional shout of the Moorish soldiery, roaming in search of 
 plunder. While the inhabitants were trembling for their fate, 
 a trumpet resounded through the streets, summoning them all 
 to assemble, unarmed, in the public square. Here they were 
 surrounded by soldiery, and strictly guarded, until day-break. 
 When the day dawned, it was piteous to behold this once pros 
 perous community, who had lain down to rest in peaceful 
 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 Aben 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 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 17 
 
 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 Christians, the cap 
 tives of Zahara arrived a wretched train of men, women, and 
 children, worn out with fatigue and haggard with despair, and 
 driven like cattle into the city gates, by a detachment of Moor 
 ish soldiery. 
 
 Deep was 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 
 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 
 were 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; for, whatever storms 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 thunder 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 (say the Arabian historians) one of those holy men 
 termed santons, who pass their lives in hermitages, in fast 
 ing, 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 by 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 
 
18 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 ravings of a 
 maniac. The santon rushed from the royal presence, and, de 
 scending 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 Granada ! 
 its fall is at hand! desolation shall dwell in its palaces; its 
 strong men shall fall beneath the sword, its children and 
 maidens shall be led into captivity. Zahara is but ft type of 
 Granada !" 
 
 Terror seized upon the populace, for they considered these 
 ravings as the inspirations of prophecy. 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 fore 
 bodings, and to curse the rashness and cruelty of the fierce 
 Aben Hassan. 
 
 The Moorish monarch heeded not their murmurs. Knowing 
 that his exploit must draw upon him the vengeance of the 
 Christians, he now threw off all reserve, and made attempts to 
 surprise Castellan and Elvira, though without success. He 
 sent alfaquis, also, to the Barbary powers, informing them 
 that the sword was drawn, and inviting them to aid in main 
 taining the kingdom of Granada, and the religion of Mahomet, 
 against the violence of unbelievers. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 EXPEDITION OF THE MARQUES OF CADIZ AGAINST ALHAMA. 
 
 GREAT was the indignation of king Ferdinand, when he 
 heard of the storming of Zahara more especially as it had 
 anticipated his intention of giving the first blow in this event 
 ful 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 immediately 
 issued orders to all the adelantados and alcaydes of the fron- 
 
THE CONQEES l OP GRANADA. 19 
 
 tiers, to maintain the utmost vigilance at their several posts, 
 and to prepare to carry fire and sword into the territories of 
 the Moors. 
 
 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, 
 marques of Cadiz. As he was the distinguished champion of 
 tin s holy war, and commanded in most of its enterprises and 
 battles, it is meet that some particular account should be given 
 of him. He was born in 1443, of the valiant lineage of the 
 Ponces, and from his earliest youth had rendered himself 
 illustrious in the field. He was of the middle stature, with a 
 muscular and powerful frame, capable of great exertion and 
 fatigue. His hair and beard were red and curled, his coun 
 tenance was open and magnanimous, of a ruddy complexion, 
 and slightly marked with the small-pox. He was temperate, 
 chaste, valiant, vigilant; a just and generous master to his 
 vassals; frank and noble in his deportment towards his equals; 
 loving and faithful to his friends; fierce and terrible, yet 
 magnanimous, to his enemies. He was considered the mirror 
 of chivalry of his times, and compared by contemporary his 
 torians to the immortal Cid. 
 
 The marques of Cadiz had vast possessions in the most 
 fertile parts of Andalusia, including many towns and castles, 
 and could lead forth an army into the field from his own vas 
 sals and dependants. 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 commence 
 ment to the war, and should console the sovereigns for the in 
 sult they had received in the capture of Zahara. As his estates 
 lay near to the Moorish frontiers, and were subject to sudden 
 inroads, he had always in his pay numbers 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 Mm 
 one day in his town of Marchena, and informed him that the 
 Moorish town of Alhama was slightly garrisoned and negli 
 gently guarded, and might be taken by surprise. This was a 
 large, wealthy, and populous place within a few leagues of 
 Granada. It was situated on a rocky height, nearly surround 
 ed by a river, and defended by a fortress to which there was 
 no access but by a steep and cragged ascent. The strength of 
 
20 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 its situation, and its being embosomed 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 marques dis 
 patched secretly a veteran soldier, who was highly in his con 
 fidence. His name was Ortega de Prado, a man of great ac 
 tivity, shrewdness, and valor, and captain of escaladors, 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 occa 
 sionally to the ground or to the wall. Every time, he distin 
 guished the measured tread of a sentinel, and now and then 
 the challenge of the nightwatch going its rounds. Finding the 
 town thus guarded, he clambered to the castle: there all 
 was silent. As he ranged its lofty battlements, 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 marques of 
 Cadiz of the practicability of scaling the castle of Alhama, and 
 taking it by surprise. The marques had a secret conference 
 with Don Pedro Henriquez, adelantado of Andalusia; Don 
 Diego de Merlo, commander of Seville ; and Sancho de Avila, 
 alcayde of Carmona, who all agreed to aid him with their 
 forces. On an appointed day, the several commanders assem 
 bled at Marchena with their troops and retainers. None but 
 the leaders knew the object or destination of the enterprise ; 
 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 caval 
 ry, and four thousand infantry. They chose a route* but little 
 travelled, by the way of Antiquera, passing with great labor 
 through rugged and solitary denies of the Sierra or chain of 
 mountains of Alzerifa, and left all their baggage on the banks 
 of the river Yeguas, 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 darkened, and forcing themselves 
 forward at as quick a pace as the rugged and dangerous moun 
 tain roads would permit, they descended towards midnight 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 21 
 
 into a small deep valley, only half a league from Albania. 
 Here they made a halt, fatigued by this forced march, during 
 a long dark evening towards the end of February. 
 
 The marques of Cadiz now explained to the troops the object 
 of the expedition. He told them it was for the glory of the 
 most holy faith, and to avenge the wrongs of their countrymen 
 of Zahara ; and that the rich town of Albania, full of wealthy 
 spoil, was the place to be attacked. The troops were roused 
 to new ardor by these words, and desired to be led forthwith 
 to the assault. They arrived close to Albania about two hours 
 before daybreak. Here the army remained in ambush, while 
 three hundred men were dispatched to scale the walls and get 
 possession of the castle. They were picked men, many of them 
 alcaydes and officers, men who preferred death to dishonor. 
 This gallant band was guided by the escalador Ortega de 
 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 with 
 noiseless steps. Ortega was the first that mounted upon the 
 battlements, followed by one Martin Galindo, a youthful es 
 quire, 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 point 
 the way to the guard-room. The infidel obeyed, and was in 
 stantly dispatched, to prevent his giving an alarm. The guard 
 room was a scene rather of massacre than combat. Some of 
 the soldiery were killed while sleeping, others were cut down 
 almost without resistance, bewildered by so unexpected an as 
 sault : all were dispatched, 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 masters of the towers. Some of the 
 Moors were cut down at once, others fought desperately from 
 room to room, and the whole castle 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 kefr 
 
22 TEE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 tie-drums and trumpets, to increase the confusion and dismay 
 of the garrison. A violent conflict took place in the court of 
 the castle, where several of the scaling party sought to throw 
 open the gates to adnsit their countrymen. Here fell two 
 valiant alcaydes, Nicholas de Roja and Sancho de Avila ; but 
 they fell honorably, upon a heap of slain. At length Ortega 
 de Prado succeeded in throwing open a postern, through which 
 the marques of Cadiz, the adelantado of Andalusia, and Don 
 Diego de Merlo, entered with a host of followers, and the cita 
 del remained in full possession of the Christians. 
 
 As the Spanish cavaliers were ranging from room to room, 
 the marques of Cadiz, entering an apartment of superior rich 
 ness to the rest, beheld, by the light of a silver lamp, a beauti 
 ful Moorish female, the wife of the alcayde of the castle, whose 
 husband was absent, attending a wedding-feast at Velez Mal 
 aga. 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 marques, imploring mercy. The 
 Christian cavalier, who had a soul full of honor and courtesy 
 towards the sex, raised her from the floor, and endeavored to 
 allay her fears ; but they were increased at the sight of her 
 female attendants, pursued into the room by the Spanish sol 
 diery. The marques reproached his soldiers with their un 
 manly 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 honorable protection, he ap 
 pointed 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 were chiefly merchants and tradespeople ; but 
 the Moors all possessed a knowledge of the use of weapons, 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 bat 
 tlements and towers, they discharged showers of stones and 
 arrows, whenever the part of the Christian army, without the 
 walls, attempted to approach. They barricadoed the entrances 
 of their streets, also, which opened towards the castle ; station 
 ing men expert at the cross-bow and arquebuse. These kept 
 up a constant fire upon the gate of the castle, so that no one 
 could sally forth without being instantly shot down. Two 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 23 
 
 valiant cavaliers, who attempted to lead forth a party in defi 
 ance of this fatal tempest, were shot dead at the very portal. 
 
 The Christians now found themselves in a situation of great 
 peril. Reinforcements must soon arrive to the enemy from 
 Granada ; unless, therefore, they gained possession of the town 
 in the course of the day, they were Likely to be surrounded 
 and beleaguered, without provisions, in the castle. Some ob 
 served that, even if they took the town, they should not be 
 able to maintain possession of it. They proposed, therefore, to 
 make booty of every thing valuable, to sack the castle, set it 
 on fire, and make good their retreat to Seville. 
 
 The marques of Cadiz was of different counsel. God has 
 given the citadel into Christian hands," said he; "he will no 
 doubt strengthen them to maintain it. We have gained the 
 place with difficulty and bloodshed ; it would be a stain upon 
 our honor to abandon it through fear of imaginary dangers." 
 The adelantado and Don Diego de Merlo 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 
 a morning s repast, advanced vigorously to the attack of the 
 walls. They planted their scaling-ladders, and, swarming up, 
 sword in hand, 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 toward the city, was completely 
 commanded by the artillery 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 mo 
 ment, 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 simultaneous at 
 tack was made by the Christians in every part by the ram 
 parts, by the gate, by the roofs and walls which connected 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 strength, foi 
 they were for the most part peaceful men, of industrious call- 
 
24 THE CONQUEST OF OR AN AD A. 
 
 ings, aiid enervated by the frequent use of the warm bath ; but 
 they were superior in number, and unconquerable in spirit ; 
 old and young, strong and weak, fought with the same des 
 peration. 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, 
 they would block up the thresholds 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. Retreating to a large mosque near the walls, 
 they kept up so galling a fire from it with lances, cross-bows, 
 and arquebuses, that for some time the Christians dared not 
 approach. Covering themselves, at length, with bucklers and 
 mantelets* to protect them from the deadly shower, they made 
 their way to the mosque, and set fire to the doors. When the 
 smoke and flames rolled in upon them, the Moors gave up all 
 as lost. Many rushed forth desperately upon the enemy, but 
 were immediately slain ; the rest surrendered themselves cap> 
 tives. 
 
 The struggle was now at an end ; the town remained at the 
 mercy of the Christians ; and the inhabitants, both male and 
 female, became the slaves of those who made them prisoners. 
 Some few escaped by a mine or subterranean way, which led 
 to the river, and concealed themselves, their wives and chil 
 dren, in caves and secret places ; but in three or four days, 
 were compelled to surrender themselves through hunger. 
 
 The town was given up to plunder, and the booty was im 
 mense. There were found prodigious 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 productions of this fruitful king 
 dom ; for in Alhama were collected the royal rents and tributes 
 
 * Mantelet a movable parapet, made of thick planks, to protect troops, when 
 advancing to sap or assault a walled place. 
 
TEE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 25 
 
 of the surrounding country; it was the richest town in the 
 Moorish territory, and, from its great strength and its peculiar 
 situation, was called the key to Granada. 
 
 Great waste and devastation were committed by the Spanish 
 soldiery; for, thinking it would be impossible to keep posses 
 sion of the place, they began to destroy whatever they could 
 not take away. Immense jars of oil were broken, costly fur 
 niture shattered to pieces, and magazines of grain broken open, 
 and their contents scattered to the winds. Many Christian 
 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 terri 
 tories, was hanged on the highest part of the battlements, for 
 the edification of the army. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 HOW THE PEOPLE OF GRANADA WERE AFFECTED, ON HEARING 
 OF THE CAPTURE OF ALHAMA; AND HOW THE MOORISH KING 
 SALLIED FORTH TO REGAIN IT. 
 
 A MOORISH horseman had spurred across the vega, nor 
 reined 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 in its towers and courts ; and when I spurred my steed 
 from the gate of Alhama, the castle was in possession of the 
 unbelievers." 
 
 Muley Aben Hassan felt for a moment as if swift retribution 
 had come upon him for the woes he had inflicted upon Zahara. 
 Still he flattered himself that this had only been some tran 
 sient inroad of a party of marauders, intent upon plunder ; and 
 that a little succor, 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 
 
26 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 arrived before its walls, the morning after its capture: the 
 Christian standards floated upon its towers, and a body of cav 
 alry 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 tumul 
 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 in the hands of the enemy !" 
 
 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. Noth 
 ing was heard throughout the city but sighs and wailings. 
 " Wo is me, Alhama!" was in every mouth; and this ejacula 
 tion of deep sorrow and doleful foreboding, came to be the 
 burthen of a plaintive ballad, which remains until the pres 
 ent 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 thoughts 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 Alham- 
 bra into the presence of the king, weeping, and wailing, and 
 tearing their hair. Accursed be the day, " cried they, that 
 thou hast lit the flame of war 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, until 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 Aga- 
 pida) 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 
 
 * The mournful little Spanish romance of Ay de mi, Alhama! is supposed to be 
 of Moorish origin, and to embody the grief of the people of Granada on this occa 
 sion. 
 
 t Garibav. lib. 40. c. 29. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 27 
 
 fearless warrior, 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 sustain 
 ing 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. He immediately 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 marques 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 was 
 Don Alonzo de Cordova, senior and lord of the house of Agui- 
 lar, and brother of Gonsalvo of Cordova, afterwards renowned 
 as 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 enterpris 
 ing of the 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, marques 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 enterprise. 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 marques of Cadiz heard of 
 the approach of his friend, whose march was slow in conse 
 quence 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 marques of Cadiz was filled with 
 alarm lest De Aguilar should fall into the hands of the enemy. 
 Forgetting his own danger, and thinking only of that of his 
 friend, he dispatched 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 posi 
 tion in the mountains, and await his coming. The madness of 
 
28 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 an attempt 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 marques the additional distress of beholding him 
 captured beneath his walls. It was even urged upon him that 
 he had no time for delay, if he would consult his own safety, 
 which could only be insured by an immediate retreat into the 
 Christian territory. 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 united and power 
 ful reasons. Proudly and sullenly he drew off his forces, laden 
 with the baggage of the army, and made an unwilling retreat 
 towards Antiquera. 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, in the first 
 transports of their rage, attacked those ravenous animals: 
 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 suddenly and at 
 various points, to distract the enemy, and overcome them by 
 the force of numbers. 
 
 The marques 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 defenceless 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. 
 
 * Pulgar. Cronica. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 29 
 
 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, osly 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 assail 
 ants. 
 
 On one of these occasions, the party was commanded by Don 
 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, after a career of carnage, was slowly 
 retreating to the gate, he heard a voice loudly calling after 
 him, in furious accents. "Turn 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 conception of 
 the blessed virgin. All his holy zeal and pious indignation re 
 kindled at the sight; he put lance in rest, and spurred his 
 steed to finish this doctrinal dispute. Don Juan de Vera 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 encounter, his lance entered the 
 mouth of the Moor, and 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 punishment, 
 through the very organ with which he had offended ; and thus 
 was the immaculate 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 sie.^e. Desti 
 tute of all means to batter the fortifications, the tc ,vn re 
 mained uninjured, defying the mighty army which raged and 
 roamed before it. Incensed at being thus foiled, Muley Aben 
 Hassan gave orders to undermine the walls. The Moors ad 
 vanced 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 return to the charge. The Christians not merely galled 
 them from the battlements, but issued forth and cut them 
 down in the excavations they were attempting to form. The 
 
30 THE COM QUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 contest lasted throughout a whole day, and by evening tvro 
 thousand Moors were either killed or wounded. 
 
 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 runs by its walls. Oil 
 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 
 Moors endeavoring to plant palisades 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 marques 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 passage ; but the Moor 
 ish 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 the 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 suffering in the town became intense. 
 None but the soldiery and their horses 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, were almost destitute ; while the unhappy 
 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 bowstring or hurl 
 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 cross-bows; so that the 
 marques of Cadiz was obliged to heighten the battlements, 
 by using the doors from the private dwellings. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 31 
 
 The Christian cavaliers, exposed to this extreme peril, and 
 in imminent danger of falling into the hands of the enemy, 
 dispatched fleet messengers to Seville and Cordova, entreating 
 the chivalry of Andalusia to hasten to their aid. They sent 
 likewise, imploring assistance from the king and queen, who at 
 that time held their court in Medina del Campo. In the midst 
 of their distress, a tank, or cistern, of water, was fortunately 
 discovered in the city, which gave temporary relief to their 
 Bufferings. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HOW THE DUKE OF MEDINA SIDONIA, AND THE CHIVALRY OF 
 ANDALUSIA, HASTENED TO THE RELIEF OF ALHAMA. 
 
 THE perilous situation of the Christian cavaliers, pent up 
 and beleaguered within the walls of Alhama, pread terror 
 among their friends, and anxiety throughout all .ndalusia. 
 Nothing, however, could equal the anguish of the marchioness 
 of Cadiz, the wife of the gallant Roderigo Ponce de Leon. T n 
 her deep distress, she looked round for some powerful ^ble, 
 who had the means of rousing the country to the assistance of 
 her husband. No one appeared more competent for the , r- 
 pose than Don Juan de Guzman, the duke of Medina Sidonia. 
 He was one of the most wealthy and puissant grandees 
 Spain ; his possessions extended over some of the most f ^rtile 
 parts of Andalusia, embracing towns, and seaports, and nu 
 merous villages. Here he reigned in feudal state, like r, petty 
 sovereign, and could at any time bring into the field an im 
 mense force of vassals and retainers. 
 
 The duke of Medina Sidonia and the marques of Cadiz, 
 however, were at this time deadly foes. An hereditary feud 
 existed between them, which had often arisen to bloodshed 
 and open war ; for as yet the fierce contests 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 marques 
 of Cadiz ; but the marchioness judged of him by the standard 
 
32 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 succor 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 succor. He 
 immediately despatched a courteous letter to the marchioness, 
 assuring her that in consideration of the request of so honor 
 able 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 recollec 
 tion 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 forces they could spare from their garrisons. 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, armor, and provisions. Thus all who could be incited 
 by honor, 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 cava 
 liers of distinguished name accompanied him in this generous 
 enterprise. Among these was the redoubtable Alonzo de 
 Aguilar, the chosen friend of the marques of Cadiz, and with 
 him his younger brother, Gonsalvo Fernandez de Cordova, 
 afterwards renowned as the grand captain; Don Roderigo 
 Giron, also, Master of the order of Calatrava, together with 
 Martin Alonzo de Montemayor, and the marques De Villena, 
 esteemed the best lance in Spain. It was a gallant and 
 splendid army, comprising the flower of Spanish chivalry, and 
 poured forth in brilliant array from the gates of Seville, bear 
 ing 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 deum to be chanted 
 
 * Cronica de los Duques de Medina Sidonia, por Pedro de Medina. MS. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 33 
 
 for this signal triumph of the holy faith. When the first flush 
 of triumph had subsided, and the king learnt the imminent 
 peril of the valorous Ponce de Leon and his companions, and 
 the great danger 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 Anda 
 lusia, leaving a request for the queen to follow him.* He was 
 attended by Don Beltram de la Cueva, duke of Albuquerque, 
 Don Inigo Lopez de Mendoza, count of Tendilla, and Don Pedro 
 Mauriques, count of Treviiio, with a few more cavaliers of 
 prowess and distinction. He travelled by forced journeys, 
 frequently changing his jaded horses, being eager to arrive in 
 time to take command of the Andalusian chivalry. When he 
 arrived within five leagues of Cordova, the duke of Albu 
 querque remonstrated with him upon entering, with such 
 incasutious haste, into the enemies country. He represented 
 to him that there were troops enough assembled to succor 
 Albania, and that it was not for him to venture 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 staunch and iron war 
 riors of old Castile." 
 
 "Duke," replied the king, "your counsel might have been 
 good, had I not departed from Medina with the avowed deter 
 mination of succoring these cavaliers in person. 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." t 
 
 As king Ferdinand approached Cordova, the principal in 
 habitants 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 
 
 * Illescas. Hist. Pontifical. 
 t Pulgar. Cronica, p. 3, c. 3, 
 
34 TUE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 was all on fire to overtake him, and to lead in person the 
 succor to Albania. 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 dispatched fleet couriers in advance, requesting the 
 duke of Medina Sidonia to await his coming, that he 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 
 inclination of the king. They sent back missives, representing 
 that they were far within the enemies frontier, and it was 
 dangerous either to pause or turn back. They had likewise 
 received pressing entreaties from the besieged to hasten their 
 speed, setting forth their great sufferings, and their hourly 
 peril of being overwhelmed by the enemy. 
 
 The king was at Ponton del Maestre, when he received these 
 missives. So inflamed was he with zeal for the success of this 
 enterprise, that he would have penetrated into the kingdom of 
 Granada with the handful of cavaliers who accompanied him, 
 but tney represented the rashness of such a journey, through 
 the mountainous defiles of a hostile country, thickly beset with 
 towns and castles. With some difficulty, therefore, he was 
 dissuaded from his inclination, and prevailed upon to await 
 tidings from the army, in the frontier city of Antiquera. 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 SEQUEL OF THE EVENTS AT ALHAMA. 
 
 WHILE 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 
 succor could arrive. 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 prisoners within, and the wounds 
 which almost every soldier had received in the incessant 
 skirmishes and assaults, had worn grievously both flesh arid 
 spirit. The noble Ponce de Leon, marques of Cadiz, still ani 
 mated the soldiery, however, by word and example, sharing- 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 35 
 
 every hardship and being foremost in every danger; exem 
 plifying that a good commander is the vital spirit of an army. 
 
 When Muley Aben Hassan heard of the vast force that 
 was approaching under the command of the duke o* Medina 
 Sidonia, and that Ferdinand was coming in person with 
 additional troops, he perceived that no time was to be lost : 
 Alhama must be carried by one powerful attack, or abandoned 
 entirely to the Christians. 
 
 A number of Moorish cavaliers, some of the bravest youth of 
 Granada, knowing the wishes of the king, proposed to under 
 take a desperate enterprise, which, if successful, must put 
 Alhama in his power. Early one morning, when it was 
 scarcely the gray of the dawn, about the time of changing the 
 watch, these cavaliers approached the town, at a place con 
 sidered inaccessible, from the steepness of the rocks on which 
 the wall was founded; which, it was supposed, elevated the 
 battlements beyond the reach of the longest scaling-ladder. 
 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 Aben Hassan made a false attack upon the 
 town in another quarter. 
 
 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. The 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 Moors, 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 prowess, led on by that valiant knight Don Alonzo 
 Ponce, the uncle, and that brave esquire Pedro Pineda, nephew 
 of the marques 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 party 
 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 v,v ; y {,<> t:u> :-iU .i to throw them open to the 
 
36 THE CONQUEST OP GRANADA. 
 
 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 man 
 ner 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 beneath their scimitars: a 
 moment more, and Alhama would have been thrown open to 
 the enemy. 
 
 Just at this juncture, Don Alonzo Ponce and Pedro de 
 Pineda reached the spot with their forces. The Moors had the 
 enemy hi 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 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 rage 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, 
 bef oro the standard of the duke of Medina Sidonia was seen 
 emerging in another direction from the denies of the moun 
 tains. 
 
 When the Christians in Alhama beheld their enemies retreat 
 ing on 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 
 
 * Zurita, lib. 20, c. 43. 
 
 t Pedro de Pineda received the honor of knighthood from the hand of king Fer 
 dinand, for his valor on this occasion; (Alonzo Ponce was already knight.) See 
 Zuuiga, Aunales of Seville, lib. 12. an, 1482. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 37 
 
 skeletons rather than living men. It was a noble and gracious 
 sight to behold the meeting of those two ancient foes, the duke 
 of Medina Sidonia and the marques of Cadiz. When the 
 marques beheld his magnanimous deliverer approaching, he 
 melted into tears ; all past animosities only gave the greater 
 poignancy to present feelings of gratitude and admiration; 
 they clasped each other in their arms, and. from that time for 
 ward were true and cordial friends. 
 
 While this generous scene took place between the comman 
 ders, a sordid contest arose amorg their troops. The soldiers 
 who had come to the rescue claimed a portion of the spoils of 
 Alhama; and so violent was the lispute, that both parties 
 seized their arms. The duke of Medina Sidonia interfered, 
 and settled the question with 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 
 honor, for religion, and for the rescue of our countrymen and 
 fellow-Christians ; and the success of our enterprise is a suffi 
 cient and a glorious reward. If we desire booty, there are 
 sufficient Moorish cities yet to be taken, to enrich us all." 
 The soldiers were convinced oy the frank and chivalrous 
 reasoning of the duke ; they replied to his speech by acclama 
 tions, and the transient broil was happily appeased. 
 
 The marchioness of Cadiz, with the forethought of a loving 
 wife, had dispatched her major domo with the army with a 
 large supply of provisions. Tables were immediately spread 
 beneath the tents, where the marques gave a banquet to the 
 duke and the cavaliers who had accompanied him, and nothing 
 but hilarity prevailed in this late scene of suffering 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, burthened with precious booty. The 
 marques and duke, with their confederate cavaliers, repaired 
 to Antiquera, where they were received with great distinction 
 by the king, who honored the marques of Cadiz with signal 
 marks of favor. The duke then accompanied his late enemy, 
 but. now most zealous and grateful friend, the marques uf 
 Cadiz, to his town of Marchena, where he received the reward 
 of his generous conduct, in the thanks and blessings of the 
 marchioness. The marques celebrated a sumptuous feast, in 
 honor of his guest ; for a day and 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 
 
38 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 marques 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 
 Spain, by these two illustrious rivals. Each reaped universal 
 renown from the part he had performed in the campaign ; the 
 marques, from having surprised and captured one of the most 
 important and formidable fortresses of the kingdom of Grana 
 da ; and the duke, from having subdued his deadliest foe, by a 
 great act of magnanimity. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 EVENTS AT GRANADA, AND RISE OF THE MOORISH KING BOABDIL 
 
 EL CHICO. 
 
 THE Moorish king, Aben Hassan, returned, baffled and dis 
 appointed, from before the walls of Alhama, and was received 
 with groans and smothered execrations by the people of Gra 
 nada. 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 com 
 mon people, fermented more secretly and dangerously among 
 the nobles. Muley Aben Hassan was of a fierce and cruel 
 nature; his reign had been marked with tyranny and blood 
 shed, 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 favored the conspiracy. 
 
 Muley Aben Hassan, though cruel, 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, 
 according to custom, cast his horoscope : they were seized with 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 39 
 
 fear and trembling, when they beheld the fatal portents re 
 vealed to their science. Allah Achbar ! God is great !" exclaimed 
 they ; "he alone controls the fate of empires. It is written in 
 the heavens that this prince shall sit upon the throne of 
 Granada, but that the downfall of the kingdom shall be accom 
 plished during his reign." From this time, the prince was 
 ever regarded with aversion by his father ; and the series of 
 persecutions which he suffered, and the dark prediction which 
 hung over him from his infancy, procured him the surname 
 of El Zogoybi, or "the unfortunate." He is more commonly 
 known by the appellation of El Chico (the younger), to distin 
 guish him from an usurping uncle. 
 
 The other favorite queen of Aben Hassan was named Fatima, 
 to which the Moors added the appellation of La Zoraya, or the 
 light of dawn, from her effulgent beauty. She was a Christian 
 by birth, the daughter of the commander Sancho Ximenes de 
 Solis, and had been taken captive in her tender youth.* The 
 king, who was well stricken in years at the time, became 
 enamored of the blooming Christian maid; he made her his 
 sultana, and, like most old men who marry in their dotage, 
 resigned himself to her management. Zoraya 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 
 husband, to undermine his other children in his affections, and 
 to fill him with jealousies of their designs. Muley Aben Has 
 san 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 sanguinary deeds. 
 
 The next measure of Zoraya, was against her rival sultana, 
 the virtuous Ayxa. 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 repudiate her, and to confine her and 
 her son in the tower of Cimares, one of the principal towers of 
 the Alhambra. As Boabdil increased in years, Zoraya beheld 
 in him a formidable obstacle to the pretensions of her sons ; 
 for he was universally considered heir-apparent to the throne. 
 
 * Salazar. Cronica del Gran Cardinal, cap. 71. 
 
40 THE CONQUEST OF GttANADA. 
 
 The jealousies, suspicions, and alarms of his tiger-hearted 
 father, were again excited ; he was reminded, too, of the pre 
 diction that fixed the ruin of the kingdom during the reign of 
 this prince. Muley Aben Hassan impiously set the stars at 
 defiance : The sword of the executioner, " said he, * shall prove 
 the falsehood of these lying horoscopes, and shall silence the 
 ambition of Boabdil, as it has the presumption of his brothers." 
 The sultana Ayxa was secretly apprised 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 
 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 attendants, and 
 lowered the youthful prince from the tower of Cimares.* 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 Alpuxarres. 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 Aben Hassan re 
 turned foiled from nis expedition against Alhama. The faction, 
 which had 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 opportunity soon presented to put them in practice. 
 Muley Aben Hassan had a royal country palace called Alix- 
 ares, in the vicinity of Granada, to which he resorted occa 
 sionally 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. "Allah 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 was predestined, that my son 
 should sit upon the throne Allah f oref end the rest of the pre 
 diction!" The old monarch knew the inflammable nature of 
 the Moors, and that it was useless to attempt to check any 
 sudden blaze of popular passion. "A little while," said he, 
 
 * Salazar. Cronica del Gran Cardinal, cap. 71 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 41 
 
 "and this rash flame will burn itself out, and the people 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 demonstrations of loyalty. He was not a man to 
 give up his throne without a struggle. A large part of the 
 kingdom still remained 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 moderate force, he should awe the people again into 
 allegiance. He took his measures with that combination of 
 dexterity and daring which formed his character, and arrived 
 one night under the walls of Granada, with five hundred 
 chosen followers. Scaling the walls of the Alhambra, he threw 
 himself with sanguinary fury into its silent courts. The 
 sleeping inmates were roused from their repose only to fall 
 by the exterminating scimitar. The rage of Aben 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 Cimixer, retreated to a strong tower, with 
 a few of the garrison 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 its rebellious 
 inhabitants. Descending 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 conjec 
 tures ; the great mass of the people, incensed by his tyranny, 
 were zealous in favor of his son. A violent, but transient con 
 flict took place in the streets and squares; many of the fol 
 lowers of Aben Hassan were slain ; the rest driven out of the 
 city ; and the old monarch, with the remnant of his band, re 
 treated 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. 
 
4 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ROYAL EXPEDITION AGAINST LOXA. 
 
 KING 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, inasmuch as, 
 being in the centre of the Moorish kingdom, it would be at all 
 times liable to attack, and could only be maintained by a pow 
 erful garrison and at a vast expense. Queen Isabella arrived at 
 Cordova in the midst of these deliberations, and listened to 
 them with surprise and impatience. What !" said she, shall 
 we 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 coun 
 cils. 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, labor, and bloodshed? 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 ; let 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 immedi 
 ately 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 Ayala, Pero Ruiz de Alarcon, and Alonzo Ortis, cap 
 tains of four hundred lances, and a body of one thousand foot ; 
 supplied 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 pur 
 pose, he called upon all the cities and towns of Andalusia and 
 Estramadura, and the domains of the orders of Santiago, Cala- 
 trava, and Alcantara, and of the priory of St. Juan, and the 
 kingdom of Toledo, and beyond to the cities of Salamanca, 
 Tero, and Yalladolid, to furnish, according to their repartimi- 
 entos, or allotments, a certain quantity of bread, wine, and 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 43 
 
 cattle, to be delivered at the royal camp before Loxa, one-half 
 at the end of June, and one-half in July. These lands, also, 
 together with Biscay and Guipiscoa, were ordered to send 
 reinforcements of horse and foot, each town furnishing its 
 quota ; and great diligence was used in providing bombards, 
 powder, and other warlike 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 succor, the Castilian sovereigns stationed an 
 armada of ships and galleys in the Straits of Gibraltar, under 
 the command of Martin Diaz de Mina and Carlos de Valera, 
 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 the fields of grain, and driving away the 
 cattle. 
 
 It was about the end of June, that king Ferdinand departed 
 from Cordova, to sit down before the walls of Loxa. So con 
 fident 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 marques of Cadiz, a warrior as 
 wise as he was valiant, remonstrated against employing so 
 small a force, and indeed was opposed to the measure alto 
 gether, as being undertaken precipitately and without suffi 
 cient 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 pre 
 vailed, about this time, among the Spanish cavaliers; they 
 overrated their own prowess, or rather they undervalued and 
 despised their enemy. Many of them believed that the Moors 
 would scarcely remain in their city, when they saw the Chris 
 tian troops advancing to assail it. The Spanish chivalry, 
 therefore, marched gallantly and fearlessly, and almost care 
 lessly, over the border, scantily supplied with the things need 
 ful 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 hiliy, so that it was 
 extremely difficult to form a combined camp. The river 
 Xenil, which runs by the town, was compressed between 
 
44 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 encamp 
 ments on the heights, but separated from each other by deep 
 rocky ravines, so as to be incapable of yielding each other 
 prompt assistance. There was no room for the operation of 
 the cavalry. The artillery, also, was so injudiciously placed, 
 as to be almost entirely useless. Alonzo of Arragon, duke of 
 Villahermosa, and illegitimate brother of the king, was present 
 at the siege, and disapproved of the whole arrangement. He 
 was one of the most able generals of his time, and especially 
 renowned for his skill in battering fortified places. He recom 
 mended that the whole disposition of the camp should be 
 changed, and that several bridges should 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 
 bad no supply of baked bread ; and, in the hurry of encamp 
 ment, there was no time to erect furnaces. Cakes were there 
 fore 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 endeavored to provide a temporary remedy. There was 
 a height near the city, called by the Moors Santo Albohacen, 
 which was in front of the bridge. He ordered several of his 
 most valiant cavaliers to take possession of this height, and to 
 hold it as a check upon the enemy and a protection to the 
 camp. The cavaliers chosen for this distinguished and peril 
 ous post, were, the marques of Cadiz, the marques of Villena, 
 Don Roderigo Tellez Giron, Master of Calatrava, his brother 
 the count of Ureiia, 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 pen 
 nons of warlike Spain. 
 
 Loxa was commanded at this time by an old Moorish 
 alcayde, whose daughter was the favorite 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 Christians, and his name had long been the 
 terror of the frontier. He was in the ninetieth year of his 
 
TSE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 45 
 
 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 movement 
 of the Christian army, and had exulted in all the* errors of its 
 commanders : when he beheld the flower of Spanish chivalry, 
 glittering about the height of Albohacen, his eye flashed with 
 exultation. "By the aid of Allah," said he, "I will give those 
 pranking cavaliers a rouse." 
 
 Ali Atar, privately, and by night, sent forth a large body of 
 his chosen troops, to He in ambush near one of the skirts of 
 Albohacen. On the fourth day of the siege, he sallied across 
 the bridge, and made a feint attack upon the height. The 
 cavaliers rushed impetuously forth to meet him, leaving their 
 encampment almost unprotected. Ali Atar wheeled and fled, 
 and was hotly pursued. When the Christian cavaliers had 
 been drawn a considerable distance from their encampment, 
 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 which had ascended a differ 
 ent 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 Ah Atar fought with the fury of a 
 demon, until the arrival of more Christian forces compelled 
 him to retreat into the city. The severest loss to the Chris 
 tians, in this skirmish, was that of Eoderigo Tellez Giron, 
 Master of Calatrava. As he was raising his arm to make a 
 blow, an arrow pierced him, just beneath the shoulder, at the 
 open part of the corselet. 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 Albohacen: the knights of 
 
46 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 Calatrava mourned him as a commander ; the cavaliers whc 
 were encamped on the height, lamented him as their com 
 panion in arms, in a service of peril ; while the count de Ureila 
 grieved over him with the tender affection of a brother. 
 
 King Ferdinand now perceived the wisdom of the opinion of 
 the marques of Cadiz, and that his force was quite insufficient 
 for the enterprise. To continue his camp in its present un 
 fortunate position, would cost him the lives of his bravest 
 cavaliers, if not a total defeat, in case of reinforcements 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 intention to 
 change the camp, seeing the tents struck and the Moors sally 
 ing forth, supposed that the enemy had been reinforced 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 of the 
 moment, and made face to the Moors, each commander guard 
 ing his quarter and repelling all assaults, while the tents were 
 struck and the artillery and ammunition 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 endeavoring in vain to rally them. Setting 
 upon the Moors, he and his cavaliers charged them so vigor 
 ously, 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 
 great danger of being surrounded, and twice owed his safety 
 to the valor of Don Juan de Ribera, Senior of Montemayor. 
 
 The marques 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 
 
 * Pulgar. Cronica. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 47 
 
 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 slain ; but he succeeded 
 in beating off the Moors, and rescuing the king from imminent 
 jeopardy, whom he then prevailed upon to retire to less dan 
 gerous ground. 
 
 The marques continued, throughout the day, to expose him 
 self to the repeated assaults of the enemy ; he was ever found 
 in the place of the greatest danger, and through his bravery a 
 great part of the army and camp was preserved from destruc 
 tion.* 
 
 It was a perilous day for the commanders ; for in a retreat 
 of the kind, it is the noblest cavaliers who most expose them 
 selves to save their people. The duke of Medina Celi was 
 struck to the ground, but rescued by his troops. The count 
 de Tendilla, whose tents were nearest to the city, received 
 several wounds, and various other cavaliers of the most dis 
 tinguished note were exposed to fearful jeopardy. 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 removed, the bloody 
 height of Albohacen was abandoned, and the neighborhood of 
 Loxa evacuated. Several tents, a quantity of provisions, and 
 a few pieces of artillery, were left upon the spot, from the 
 want of horses and mules to carry them off. 
 
 Ali Atar hung upon the rear of the retiring army, and har 
 assed it until it reached Rio Frio ; from thence Ferdinand re 
 turned to Cordova, deeply mortified, though greatly benefited, 
 by the severe lesson he had received, which served to render 
 him more cautious in his campaigns and more diffident of for 
 tune. He sent letters to all parts, excusing his retreat, imput 
 ing 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. 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios, c. 58. 
 
48 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 HOW MULEY ABEN HASSAN MADE A FORAY INTO THE LANDS OP 
 MEDINA SIDONIA, AND HOW HE WAS RECEIVED. 
 
 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 thunder." He 
 turned to make another attempt upon Alhama, the garrison of 
 which was in the utmost consternation at the retreat of Ferdi 
 nand, and would have deserted the place, had it not been for 
 the courage and perseverance of the alcayde, Luis Fernandez 
 Puerto Carrero. That brave and loyal commander cheered up 
 the spirits of his men, and kept the old Moorish king at bay, 
 until the approach of Ferdinand, on his second incursion into 
 the vega, 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 powerful army of the Christian 
 monarch ; but to remain idle and see his territories laid waste, 
 would ruin him in the estimation of his people. If we can 
 not 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 learnt 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 duke of Medina Sidonia were particularly 
 unguarded : here were vast plains of pasturage, covered with 
 flocks and herds the very country 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, l i that will cure him of his love of campaign 
 ing." So he prepared in all haste for a foray 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 Estipom a, and entering the Christian 
 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 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 49 
 
 raltar, and 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 ascertained that his garrison was 
 too small to enable him to make a sally, or at least to insure 
 him any success. Still he pursued his march, with great silence 
 and caution; sent parties in advance, to explore every pass 
 where a foe might lie in ambush; cast many an anxious eye 
 towards the old rock of Gibraltar, as its cloud-capped summit 
 was seen towering in the distance on his left ; nor did he feel 
 entirely at ease, until he had passed through the broken and 
 mountainous country of CasteUar, and descended into the 
 plains. Here he encamped on the banks of the Celemin. 
 From hence he sent four hundred corredors, or fleet horsemen, 
 armed with lances, who were to station themselves near Alge- 
 ziras, and to keep a strict watch across the bay, upon the op 
 posite fortress of Gibraltar. If the alcayde attempted to sally 
 forth, they were to waylay and attack him, being almost four 
 times his supposed force; and were to send swift tidings to the 
 camp. In the mean time, two hundred corredors were sent to 
 scour that vast plain called the Campina de Tarifa, abounding 
 with flocks and herds; and two hundred more were to ravage 
 the lands about Medina Sidonia. Muley Aben Hassan re- 
 mained with the main body of the army, as a rallying point, 
 on the banks of the Celemin. 
 
 The foraging parties scoured the country to such effect, that 
 they came driving vast flocks and herds before them, enough 
 to supply the place of aU 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 Chris 
 tian helmet stirring. The old king congratulated himself upon 
 the secrecy and promptness with which he had conducted his 
 foray, and upon having baffled the vigilance of Pedro de 
 Vargas. 
 
 Muley Aben Hassan had not been so secret as he imagined; 
 the watchful Pedro de Vargas had received notice of his move 
 ments. His garrison was barely sufficient for the defence of the 
 place, and he feared to take the field and leave his fortress un 
 guarded. Luckily, at this juncture, there arrived in the har 
 bor 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 midnight with seventy horse. He 
 made for the town of Castellar, which was strongly posted on a 
 
50 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 steep height, knowing that the Moorish king would have to 
 return by this place. He ordered alarm-fires to be lighted upon 
 the mountains, to give notice that the Moors were on the 
 ravage, that the peasants might drive their flocks and herds 
 to places of refuge ; and he sent couriers, riding like mad, in 
 every direction, summoning the fighting men of the neighbor 
 hood to meet him at Castellar. 
 
 Muley AJben Hassan saw, by the fires blazing about the 
 mountains, that the country was rising. He struck his tents, 
 and pushed forward as rapidly as possible for the border ; but 
 he was encumbered with booty, and with the vast cavalgada 
 swept from the pastures of the Campina de 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 Gibraltar, and that he had not more 
 than a hundred horsemen in his garrison. He threw in ad 
 vance two hundred and fifty of his bravest troops, and with 
 them the alcaydes of Marabella and Casares. Behind this van 
 guard 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 ap 
 proached 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 country. The vanguard 
 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 thrown in confusion. 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 in 
 tention 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 conceal 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 these ; 
 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 they 
 may readily be thrown into confusion. " 
 
 By this time, the six horsemen approached so near that they 
 
THE CONQUEST OP GRANADA. 51 
 
 were on the point of discovering the Christian ambush. De 
 Vargas gave the word, and ten horsemen rushed 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 the ten Christians. About eighty of the 
 Moorish vanguard came galloping to the relief of their com 
 panions; the Christians turned, and fled towards their am- 
 bush. De Vargas kept his men concealed, until the fugitives 
 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 vanguard a brush, before it can be 
 joined by the rear." So saying, he pursued the flying Moors 
 down hill, and came with such force and fury upon the ad 
 vance guard as to overturn many of them at the first encoun 
 ter. As he wheeled off with his men, the Moors discharged 
 their lances ; upon which he returned to the charge, and made 
 great slaughter. The Moors fought valiantly for a short time, 
 until the alcaydes of Marabella and Casares were slain, when 
 they gave way and fled for the rear-guard. In their flight, they 
 passed through the cavalgada of cattle, threw the whole in 
 confusion, and raised such a cloud of dust that the Christians 
 could no longer distinguish objects. Fearing that the king and 
 the main body might be at hand, and finding that De Vargas 
 was badly wounded, they contented themselves with despoiling 
 the slain and taking above twenty-eight horses, and then re 
 treated to Castellar. 
 
 When the routed Moors came flying back upon 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 true soldier who gives up his booty with 
 out fighting. " Putting spurs to his horse, he galloped forward 
 through the centre of the cavalgada, driving the cattle to the 
 right and left. When he reached the field of battle, he found 
 it strewed with the bodies of upwards of one hundred Moors, 
 among which were those of the two alcaydes. Enraged at the 
 sight, he summoned all his cross-bowmen and cavalry, pushed 
 on to the very gates of Castellar, and set fire to two houses 
 close to the walls. Pedro de Vargas was too severely wounded 
 to sally forth in person ; but he ordered out his troops, and there 
 
52 THE CONQUEST OP OEANADA. 
 
 was brisk skirmishing under the walls, until the king drew off 
 and returned to the scene of the recent encounter. Here he 
 had the bodies of the principal warriors laid across mules, to 
 be interred honorably at Malaga ; the rest of the slain were 
 buried on the field of battle. Then, gathering together the 
 scattered cavalgada, he paraded it slowly, in an immense line, 
 past the walls of Castellar, by way of taunting his foe. 
 
 With all his fierceness, old Muley Aben Hassan had a gleam 
 of warlike courtesy, and admired the hardy and soldierlike 
 character of Pedro de Vargas. He summoned two Christian 
 captives, and demanded what were the revenues of 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. "Allah forbid," cried the old monarch, " that so 
 brave a cavalier should be defrauded of his dues. " 
 
 He immediately chose twelve of the finest cattle, from the 
 twelve droves which formed the cavalgada. These he gave in 
 charge of an alfaqui, to deliver to Pedro de Vargas. Tell 
 him," said he, "that I crave Ins pardon for not having sent 
 these cattle sooner ; but I have this moment learnt the nature 
 of his rights, and I hasten to satisfy them, with the punctual 
 ity due to- so worthy a cavalier. Tell him, at the same time, 
 that I had no idea the alcayde of Gibraltar was so active and 
 vigilant in collecting his tolls." 
 
 The brave alcayde relished the stern, soldierlike pleasantry 
 of the old Moorish monarch. He ordered a rich silken vest, 
 and a scarlet mantle, to be given to the alfaqui, and dismissed 
 him with great courtesy. Tell his majesty, " said he, that I 
 kiss his hands for the honor he has done me, and regret thtfrt 
 my scanty force has not permitted me to give him a more sig 
 nal reception, on his coming into these parts. Had three, hun 
 dred horsemen, whom I have been promised from Xeres, 
 arrived in time, I might have served up an entertainment more 
 befitting such a monarch. 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." 
 
 Muley Aben Hassan shook his head, when he received the 
 reply of De Vargas. " Allah preserve us," said he, "from any 
 visitation of these hard riders of Xeres ! a handful of troops, 
 acquainted with the wild passes of these mountains, may de 
 stroy an army encumbered as ours is with booty." 
 
 It was some relief to the king, however, to learn that the 
 hardy alcayde of Gibraltar was too severely wounded to take 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 53 
 
 the field in person. He immediately beat a retreat, with all 
 speed, before the close of day, hurrying with such precipita 
 tion, that the cavalgada was frequently broken, and scattered 
 among the rugged defiles of the mountains; and above five 
 thousand of the cattle turned back, and were regained by the 
 Christians. Muley Aben Hassan returned 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 inroad into his 
 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 XII. 
 
 FORAY OF SPANISH CAVALIERS AMONG THE MOUNTAINS OF 
 MALAGA. 
 
 THE foray of old Muley Aben Hassan had touched the pride 
 of the Andalusian chivalry, and they determined on retalia 
 tion. For this purpose a number of the most distinguished 
 cavaliers assembled at Antiquera, in the month of March, 1483. 
 The leaders of the enterprise were, the gaUant marques 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 Carde 
 nas, Master of the religious and military order of Santiago; 
 and Don Alonzo de Aguilar. Several other cavaliers of note 
 hastened to take pare in the enterprise; and in a little while, 
 about twenty-seven hundred horse, and several companies of 
 foot, were assembled within the old warlike city of Antiquera, 
 comprising the very flower of Andalusian chivalry. 
 
 A council of war was held by the chiefs, to determine in 
 what 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 inroads. Various 
 
 * Alonzo de Palenecia, 1. 28, e. 3. 
 
54 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 plans were proposed by the different cavaliers. The marques 
 of Cadiz was desirous of scaling the walls of Zahara, and re 
 gaining possession of that important fortress. The Master of 
 Santiago, however, suggested a wider range and a still more 
 important object. He had received information from his ada- 
 lides, who were apostate Moors, that an incursion might be 
 safely made 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, which would be an easy prey. The city of Malaga 
 was too weakly garrisoned, and had too few cavalry, to send 
 forth any force in opposition ; nay, he added, they might even 
 extend their ravages to its very gates, and peradventure carry 
 that wealthy place by sudden assault. 
 
 The adventurous spirits of the cavaliers were inflamed by 
 this suggestion ; in their sanguine confidence, they already 
 beheld Malaga in their power, and they wt;re eager for the 
 enterprise. The marques of Cadiz endeavored 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. He had 
 received from him a particular account of these mountains of 
 the Axarquia.* Their savage and broken nature was a suffi 
 cient defence for the fierce people who inhabited them, who, 
 manning their rocks, and their tremendous passes, which 
 were often nothing more than the deep dry beds 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 fastnesses of the mountains. 
 
 The sober counsel of the marques, however, 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 terminating 
 their foray by a brilliant assault upon Malaga. 
 
 Leaving all heavy baggage at Antiquera, and all such as 
 had horses too weak for this mo intain scramble, they set 
 forth, full of spirit and confidence Don Alonzo de Aguilar, 
 
 * Pulgar, in his Chronicle, reverses the case, and makes the marques of Cadiz 
 recommend the expedition to the Axarquia; but Fray Antonio Agapida is sup 
 ported in his statement by that most veracious and contemporary chronicler 
 Andres Bernaldes, curate of Los Palacios. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 55 
 
 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 
 Roderigo Ponce de Leon, marques of Cadiz; he was accom^ 
 panied by several of his brothers and nephews, and many 
 cavaliers, who sought distinction under his banner; and this 
 family band attracted universal attention and applause, as 
 they paraded in martial state through the streets of Antiquera. 
 The rear-guard was led by Don Alonzo Cardenas, Master of 
 Santiago, and was composed 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 com 
 posed of men full of health and vigor, 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 chivalry of Spain. Cased in armor 
 richly inlaid and embossed, decked with rich surcoats and 
 waving plumes, and superbly mounted on Andalusian steeds, 
 they pranced out of Antiquera with banners flying, and their 
 various devices and armorial bearings ostentatiously dis 
 played; and in the confidence 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 plun 
 der and strip the dead, but goodly and substantial traders from 
 Seville, Cordova, and other cities of traffic. They rode sleek 
 mules, and were clad in goodly raiment, with long leathern 
 purses at their girdles, well filled with pistoles and other gold 
 en coin. They had heard of the spoils wasted by the soldiery 
 at the capture of Alhama, and were provided with moneys to 
 buy up the jewels and precious stones, the vessels of gold and 
 silver, and the rich silks and cloths, that should form the plun 
 der of Malaga. The proud cavaliers eyed these sons of traffic 
 with great disdain, but permitted them to follow for the con 
 venience of the troops, who might otherwise be overburthened 
 with booty. 
 
 It had been intended to conduct this expedition with great 
 celerity and secrecy ; but the noise of their preparations had 
 
56 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 already reached the city of Malaga. The garrison, it is true, 
 was weak ; but it possessed a commander who 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 spirit with his 
 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. 
 
 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 should reach 
 Malaga," said he, "we should hardly be able to keep them with 
 out its walls. I will throw myself, with a small force, into the 
 mountains ; rouse the peasantry, take possession of the passes, 
 and endeavor to give these Spanish cavaliers sufficient enter 
 tainment upon the road." 
 
 It was on a Wednesday, that the pranking army of high- 
 mettled warriors issued forth from the ancient gates of Anti- 
 quera. They marched all day and night, making their way, 
 secretly as they supposed, through the passes of the moun 
 tains. As the tract of country they intended to maraud was 
 far in the Moorish territories, near the coast of the Mediter 
 ranean, they did not arrive there until late in the following 
 day. In passing through these stern and lofty mountains, 
 their path was often along the bottom of a barranco, 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 mountain and filled with their shattered fragments. 
 These barrancos and ramblas were overhung by immense cliffs 
 and precipices; forming the lurking-places of ambuscades, 
 du^feig the wars between the Moors and Spaniards, as in after- 
 times they have become the favorite haunts of robbers to way 
 lay the unfortunate traveller. 
 
 As the sun went down, the cavaliers came to a lofty part of 
 the mountains, commanding to the right a distant glimpse of 
 a part of the fair vega of Malaga, with the blue Mediterranean 
 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 CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 57 
 
 the Axarquia. Here their vaunting 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 
 refuge in the towers and fastnesses of the mountains. 
 
 Enraged at their disappointment, the troop set fire to the 
 deserted houses, and pressed forward, hoping for better for 
 tune as they advanced. Don Alonzo de Aguilar, and the other 
 cavaliers in the vanguard, 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 
 safety. 
 
 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, keeping 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 called them back, and re 
 buked them severely. 
 
 At length they came to a part of the mountain completely 
 broken up by barrancos and ramblas, of vast depth, and shag 
 ged 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 vil 
 lage, the light of the flames revealed their perplexed situation. 
 The Moors, who had taken refuge in a watch-tower on an im 
 pending height, shouted with exultation, when they looked 
 down upon these glistening cavaliers struggling and stumbling 
 among the rocks. Sallying forth from their tower, they took 
 possession of the cliffs which overhung the ravine, and hurled 
 darts and stones upon the enemy. It was with the utmost 
 grief of heart that the good Master of Santiago beheld his 
 brave men falling like helpless victims around him, without 
 the means of resistance or revenge. The confusion of his fol 
 lowers 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 dis- 
 
58 \TI1E CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 patched messengers in search of succor. The marques of 
 Cadiz, like a loyal companion in arms, hastened to his aid 
 with his cavalry; his approach checked the assaults of the 
 enemy, and the Master was at length enabled to extricate his 
 troops from, the defile. 
 
 In the mean time, Don Alonzo de Aguilar and his compan 
 ions, in their eager advance, had likewise got entangled in 
 deep glens, and the dry beds of torrents, where they had been 
 severely galled by the insulting attacks of a handful of Moor 
 ish peasants, posted on the impending precipices. The proud 
 spirit of De Aguilar was incensed at having 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 Antiquera. Hearing, however, that his friend 
 the marques of Cadiz, and the Master of Santiago, were en 
 gaged with the enemy, he disregarded his own danger, and, 
 calling together his troops, returned to assist them, or rather 
 to partake their perils. Being once more assembled together, 
 the cavaliers held a hasty council, amidst the hurling of stones 
 and the whistling of arrows ; and their resolves were quick 
 ened by the sight, from time to time, of some gallant compan 
 ion in arms laid low. They determined that there was no 
 spoil in this part of the country, to repay for the extraordi 
 nary 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 for the foot-soldiers, but almost impracticable to the 
 cavalry. It was overhung with precipices, from whence 
 showers of stones and arrows were poured upon them, ac 
 companied by savage yells, which appalled the stoutest heart. 
 In some places, they could pass but one at a time, and were 
 often transpierced, horse and rider, by the Moorish darts, im 
 peding the progress of their comrades by their dying strug 
 gles. The surrounding precipices were lit up by a thousand 
 alarm-fires ; every crag and cliff had its flame, by the light of 
 which they beheld their foes, bounding from rock to rock, and 
 looking more like fiends than mortal men. 
 
 Either through terror and confusion, or through real igno 
 rance of the country, their guides, instead of conducting them 
 out of the mountains, led them deeper into their fatal recesses. 
 
TEE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 59 
 
 The morning dawned upon them in a narrow rambla, its bot 
 tom formed of broken rocks, where once had raved along the 
 mountain torrent ; while above, there beetled great arid cliff s, 
 over the brows of which they beheld the turbaned heads of 
 their fierce and exulting foes. What a diiferent appearance 
 did the unfortunate cavaliers present, from that of the gallant 
 band that marched so vauntingly out of Antiquera ! Covered 
 with dust, and blood, and wounds, and haggard with fatigue 
 and horror, they looked like victims rather than like warriors. 
 Many of their banners were lost, and not a trumpet was heard 
 to rally up their sinking spirits. The men turned with im 
 ploring eyes to their commanders; while the hearts of the 
 cavaliers were ready to burst with rage and grief, at the 
 merciless havoc made among their faithful followers. 
 
 All day, they made ineffectual attempts to extricate them 
 selves from the mountains. Columns of smoke rose from 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 Chris 
 tians, and garrisoning the cliffs like so many towers and battle 
 ments. 
 
 Night closed again upon the Christians, when they were shut 
 up in a narrow valley traversed by a deep stream, and sur 
 rounded by precipices which seemed to reach the skies, and on 
 which blazed and flared the alarm-fires. 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 Mas 
 ter 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 struggled up the height, a 
 tremendous 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 
 
60 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 manes of the horses to aid them in their ascent; while the 
 horses, losing their foothold among the loose stones, or re 
 ceiving 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 strug 
 gle, the alferez or standard-bearer of the Master, with his 
 standard, was lost; as were many of his relations and his 
 dearest friends. At length he succeeded in attaining the crest 
 of the mountain ; but it was only to be plunged in new diffi 
 culties. A wilderness of rocks and rugged 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 himself from the precipices of the mountains, and 
 the darts of the enemy. When the pious Master of Santiago 
 beheld the scattered 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 con 
 verted the cowardice of these infidels into desperate valor, and 
 hast made peasants and boors victorious over armed men of 
 battle." 
 
 He would fain 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 was to preserve a life that might be devoted to ven 
 geance on the Moors. The Master reluctantly yielded to the 
 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 the 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 
 endeavored 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 marques of Cadiz, guided by his trusty 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 Cif uentes ; but, in the darkness 
 and confusion, the bands of these commanders became sepa 
 rated from each other. When the marques attained the sum 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 61 
 
 mit, he looked around for his companions in arms, out they 
 were no longer following him, and there was no trumpet to 
 summon them. It was a consolation to the marques, however, 
 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 
 would be less exposed to danger : when he had reached the 
 Jx ttom of it, the marques paused to collect Ms scattered fol 
 lowers, and to give time for his fellow-commanders to rejoin 
 him. Here he 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 : most 
 of them fled, and were either slain or taken captive. The 
 marques 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 nephews, Don 
 Lorenzo and Don Manuel, were one by one swept from his 
 side, either transfixed with darts and lances by the soldiers of 
 El Zagal, or crushed by stones from the heights. The mar 
 ques was a veteran warrior, and had been in many a bloody 
 battle ; but never before had death fallen so thick and close 
 around him. When he saw his remaining brother, Don Bel- 
 tram, struck out of his saddle by a fragment of a rock, and his 
 horse running wildly about without his rider, he gave a cry of 
 anguish, and stood bewildered and aghast. A few faithful 
 followers surrounded him, and entreated him to fly for his life. 
 He would still have remained, to have shared the fortunes of 
 his friend Don Alonzo de Aguilar, and his other companions in 
 arms ; but the forces of El Zagal were between him and them, 
 and death was whistling by on every wind. Reluctantly, 
 therefore, he consented to fly. Another horse was brought 
 him: his faithful adalid guided him by one of the steepest 
 paths, which lasted for four leagues ; the enemy still hanging 
 on his traces, and thinning the scanty ranks of his followers. 
 At length the marques reached the extremity of the mountain 
 defiles, and, with a haggard remnant of his men, escaped by 
 dint of hoof to Antiquera. 
 
 The count of Cifuentes, with a few of his retainers, in at 
 tempting to follow the marques of Cadiz, wandered into a 
 narrow pass, where they were completely surrounded by the 
 band of El Zagal. Finding all attempts at escape impossible, 
 and resistance vain, the worthy count surrendered himself 
 
62 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 prisoner, as did also his brother Don Pedro de Silva, and the 
 few of his retainers who survived. 
 
 The dawn of day found Don Alonzo de Aguilar, with a hand 
 ful of his followers, still among the mountains. They had 
 attempted to follow the marques of Cadiz, but had been obliged 
 to pause and defend themselves against the thickening forces 
 of the enemy. They at length traversed the mountain, and 
 reached the same valley where the marques 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 foun 
 tain gave them the means of slaking their raging thirst, and 
 refreshing their exhausted steeds. As day broke, the scene of 
 slaughter unfolded its horrors. There lay the noble brothers 
 and nephews of the gallant marques, transfixed with darts, or 
 gashed and bruised with unseemly wounds ; while many other 
 gallant cavaliers lay stretched out dead and dying around, 
 some of them partly stripped and plundered by the Moors. De 
 Aguilar was a pious knight, but his piety was not humble 
 and resigned, like that of the worthy Master of Santiago. He 
 imprecated holy curses upon the infidels, for having thus laid 
 low the flower of Christian chivalry; and he vowed in his 
 heart bitter vengeance upon the surrounding country. 
 
 By degrees, the little force of De Aguilar was augmented by 
 numbers of fugitives, who issued from caves and chasms, 
 where they had taken refuge in the night. A little band of 
 mounted knights was gradually formed ; and the Moors having 
 abandoned the heights to collect the spoils of the slain, this 
 gallant but forlorn squadron was enabled to retreat to An- 
 tiquera. 
 
 This disastrous affair lasted from Thursday evening, through 
 out Friday, the twenty -first of March, the festival of St. Bene 
 dict. It is still recorded in Spanish calendars, as the defeat of 
 the mountains of Malaga; and the spot where the greatest 
 slaughter took place, is pointed out to the present day, and is 
 called la Cuesta de la Matanza, or The Hill of the Massacre. 
 The principal leaders who survived, returned to Antiquera. 
 Many of the knights took refuge in Alhama, and other towns ; 
 many wandered about the mountains for eight days, living on 
 roots and herbs, hiding themselves during the day, and sally 
 ing forth at night. So enfeebled and disheartened were they, 
 that they offered no resistance if attacked. Three or four 
 soldiers would surrender to a Moorish peasant ; and even the 
 
THls CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 63 
 
 women of Malaga sallied forth and made prisoners. Some 
 were thrown into the dungeons of frontier towns, others led 
 captive to Granada ; but by far the greater number were con 
 ducted to Malaga, the city they had threatened to attack. Two 
 hundred and fifty principal cavaliers, alcaydes, commanders, 
 and hidalgos, of generous blood, were confined in the Alcazaba, 
 or citadel of Malaga, to await their ransom ; and five hundred 
 and seventy of the common soldiery were crowded in an en 
 closure or court-yard of the Alcazaba, to be sold as slaves.* 
 
 Great spoils were collected of splendid armor and weapons 
 taken from the slain, or thrown away by the cavaliers in their 
 flight; and many horses, magnificently caparisoned, together 
 with numerous standards all which were paraded in triumph 
 in the Moorish towns. 
 
 The merchants also, who had come with the army, intending 
 to traffic in the spoils of the Moors, were themselves made 
 objects of traffic. Several of them were driven like cattle, 
 before the Moorish viragos, to the market of Malaga ; and in 
 spite of all their adroitness in trade, and their attempts to buy 
 themselves off at a cheap ransom, they were unable to pur 
 chase their freedom without such draughts upon their money 
 bags at home, as drained them to the very bottom. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 EFFECTS OF THE DISASTERS AMONG THE MOUNTAINS OF MALAGA. 
 
 THE people of Antiquera had scarcely recovered from the 
 tumult of excitement and admiration, caused by the departure 
 of the gallant band of cavaliers upon their foray, w^hen they 
 beheld the scattered wrecks flying for refuge to their walls. 
 Day after day, and hour after hour, brought some wretched 
 fugitive, in whose battered plight, and haggard, wobegone de 
 meanor, it was almost impossible to recognize the warrior 
 whom they had lately seen to issue so gaily and gloriously 
 from their gates. 
 
 The arrival of the marques of Cadiz, almost alone, covered 
 with dust and blood, his armor shattered and defaced, his coun- 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios. 
 
64 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 tenance the picture of despair, filled every heart with sorrow, 
 for he was greatly beloved by the people. The multitude asked 
 where was the band of brothers which had rallied round him 
 as he went forth to the field ; and when they heard that they 
 had, one by one, been slaughtered at his side, they hushed 
 their voices, or spake to each other only in whispers as he 
 passed, gazing at him in silent sympathy. No one attempted 
 to console him in so great an affliction, nor did the good mar 
 ques speak ever a word, but, shutting himself up, brooded in 
 lonely anguish 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 to find that his chosen friend and 
 brother in arms had escaped uninjured. 
 
 For several days every eye was turned, in an agony ol sus 
 pense, 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 every 
 hope and 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 a historian of the time, 
 "was overwhelmed by a great affliction; there was no drying 
 oi ; the eyes which wept in her. " * 
 
 Fear and trembling reigned, for a time, along 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, seemed 
 lost ; and despondency even found its way to the royal breasts 
 of Ferdinand and Isabella, amidst the splendors 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, by rude mountain peasantry. They thought 
 it the work of Allah in favor of the faithful. But when they 
 recognized, among the captives thus dejected and broken down, 
 some of the proudest of Christian chivalry; when they saw 
 
 * Cura de los Palacioe. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 65 
 
 several of the banners and devices of the noblest houses of 
 Spain, which they had been accustomed to behold in the fore 
 most of the battle, now trailed ignominiously through their 
 streets ; when, in short, they witnessed the arrival of the count 
 of Cifuentes, the royal standard-bearer of Spain, with his gal 
 lant brother Don Pedro de Silva, brought prisoners into the 
 gates of Granada, there were no bounds to their exultation. 
 They thought that the days of their ancient glory were about 
 to return, and that they were to renew their career of triumph 
 over the unbelievers. 
 
 The Christian historians of the time are sorely perplexed to 
 account for this misfortune; and why so many Christian 
 knights, fighting in the cause of the holy faith, should thus 
 miraculously, as it were, be given captive to a handful of infidel 
 boors ; for we are assured, that all this rout and destruction 
 was effected by five hundred foot and fifty horse, and those 
 mere mountaineers, without science or discipline.* "It was 
 intended," observes one historiographer, "as a 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 traffic, to enrich themselves 
 by vending the spoils of the infidels. Instead of preparing 
 themselves by confession and communion, and executing their 
 testaments, and making donations and bequests 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 trading men, to keep alive their worldly 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 up 
 right of chroniclers, the curate of Los Palacios. Agapida 
 comforts himself, however, with the reflection, that this visi 
 tation was meant in mercy, to try the Castilian heart, and to 
 
 t Cura de los Palacios. 
 
66 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 supported by the venerable 
 historian Pedro Abarca, of the society of Jesuits.* 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 HOW KING BOABDIL EL CHICO MARCHED OVER THE BORDER. 
 
 THE defeat of the Christian cavaliers among the mountains 
 of Malaga, and the successful inroad of Muley Aben Hassan 
 into the lands of Medina Sidonia, had produced a favorable 
 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 his son Boabdil el Chico. The latter, 
 though in the flower of his age, and distinguished for vigor 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 Alhambra, 
 to the fatigue and danger of the foray, and the hard encamp 
 ments of the mountains. 
 
 The popularity of these rival kings depended upon their suc 
 cess against the Christians, and Boabdil el Chico found it neces 
 sary 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 
 among the ashes of age, and had lately been blown into a flame 
 by the attack made by Ferdinand on the city under his com 
 mand. 
 
 Ali Atar informed Boabdil that the late discomfiture of the 
 Christian knights had stripped Andalusia of the prime of her 
 chivalry, and broken the spirit of the country. All the frontier 
 of Cordova and Ecija now lay open to inroad ; but he especially 
 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. The fiery old 
 Moor spoke from thorough information ; for he had made many 
 
 * Abarca. Annales de Aragon, Rey 30, cap. 2, 7. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 67 
 
 an incursion into these parts, and his very name was a terror 
 throughout the country. It had become a by-word in the 
 garrison of Loxa to call Lucena the garden of Ali Atar, for he 
 was accustomed to forage its fertile territories for all his sup 
 plies. 
 
 Boabdil el Chico listened to the persuasions of this veteran 
 of the borders. He assembled a force of nine thousand foot 
 and seven hundred horse, most of them his own adherents, 
 but many the partisans of his father ; for both factions, how 
 ever they might fight among themselves, were ready to unite 
 in any expedition against the Christians. Many of the most 
 illustrious and valiant of the Moorish nobility assembled round 
 his standard, magnificently arrayed in sumptuous armor and 
 rich embroidery, as though they were going to a festival or a 
 tilt of canes, rather than an enterprise of iron war. Boabdil s 
 mother, the sultana Ayxafla Horra, armed him for the field, 
 and gave him her benediction as she girded his scimitar to his 
 side. His favorite 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 curtains of a tent. It 
 is by perils in the field, that thy husband must purchase secu 
 rity on his throne." 
 
 But Morayma still hung upon his neck, with tears and sad 
 forebodings ; and when he departed from the Alhambra, she 
 betook herself to her mirador, which looks out over the vega. 
 From thence she watched the army, as it went, in shining 
 order, along the road which leads to Loxa ; and every burst 
 of warlike melody that came swelling on the breeze, was an 
 swered 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 him to turn back, for they regarded it as 
 an evil omen. Boabdil scoffed at their fears, for he considered 
 them mere idle fancies; or rather, (says Fray Antonio Aga- 
 pida,) he was an incredulous pagan, puffed up with confidence 
 and vain-glory. He roftitxxl to take another spear, but drew 
 
68 THE QQNQnmT OF GRANADA. 
 
 forth his scimitar, and led the way (adds Agapida) in an arro 
 gant and haughty style, as though he would set both heaven 
 and earth at defiance. Another evil omen was sent, to deter 
 him from his enterprise ; arriving at the rambla, or dry ravine 
 of Beyro, which is scarcely a bow-shot 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, escaped 
 uninjured to the mountains. The principal courtiers about 
 Boabdil now reiterated their remonstrances against proceed 
 ing ; for they considered these occurrences as mysterious por 
 tents of disasters to their army ; the king, however, was not to 
 be dismayed, but continued 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 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 wound 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 furiously, 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 blaz 
 ing 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 
 
 * Marmol. Rebel, cle los Moros, lib. 1, c. xii. fol. 14. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 69 
 
 garrisoned, and we may carry it by assault before it can re 
 ceive assistance." The king approved of his counsel, and they 
 marched rapidly for the gate of Lucena. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 HOW THE COUNT DE CABRA SALLIED FORTH FROM HIS CASTLE, 
 IN QUEST OF KING BOABDIL. 
 
 DON Diego de Cordova, count of Cabra, was in the castle of 
 Vaena, which, with the town of the same name, is situated on 
 a lofty sun-burnt hill on the frontier of the kingdom of Cor 
 dova, and but a few leagues from Lucena. The range of 
 mountains of Horquera 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 fearless in the field. He was one 
 of the bravest cavaliers for an inroad, and had been quick 
 ened and sharpened, 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 mountains of 
 Horquera, and that they were made on the signal-tower over 
 hanging the defile through which the road passes to Cabra and 
 Lucena. 
 
 The count ascended the battlement, and beheld five lights 
 blazing on the tower, a sign that there was a Moorish army 
 attacking some place on the frontier. The count instantly 
 ordered the alarm-bells to be sounded, and dispatched couriers 
 to rouse the commanders of the neighboring 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 resounded 
 
70 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 with a 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. Noth 
 ing was heard but the din of armorers, the shoeing of studs, 
 and furbishing up of weapons; and, all night long, the alarm- 
 fires kept blazing on the mountains. 
 
 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, exercised in arms, and 
 experienced in the warfare of the borders. There were, be 
 sides, 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 road to 
 Cabra, which was three leagues distant. That they might not 
 loiter on the road, he allowed none of them to break their fast 
 until they arrived at that place. The provident count dis 
 patched couriers in advance, and the little army, on reaching 
 Cabra, found tables spread with food and refreshments, at the 
 gates of the town. Here they were joined by Don Alonzo de 
 Cordova, Senior of Zuheros. 
 
 Having made a hearty repast, they were on the point of re 
 suming 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 stan 
 dard 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 galloping at full speed, bring 
 ing missives to the count from his nephew, Don Diego Fernan 
 dez de 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 fire to the gates. 
 
 The count put his little army instantly in movement for Lu_- 
 cena, which is only one league from Cabra ; he was fired wit5 
 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 hundred foot. Don Diego Fernandez 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 71 
 
 de Cordova was a young man, yet he was a prudent, careful, 
 and capable officer. Having learnt, 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 all directions for succor, 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 him with negotiation, 
 to gain time for succor to arrive. The fierce old Ali Atar, los 
 ing all patience, had made an assault upon the town, and 
 stormed like a fury at the gate ; but had been repulsed. An 
 other and more serious attack was expected, in the course of 
 the night. 
 
 When the count de Cabra had heard this account of the sit 
 uation of affairs, he turned to his nephew with his usual alac 
 rity of manner, and proposed that they should immediately 
 sally forth in quest of the enemy. The prudent Don Diego re 
 monstrated 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 Rambla, Santaella, Montilla, and other 
 places in the neighborhood." "If we await 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 for no reply ; but, in his prompt and rapid 
 manner, sallied forth -to his men. The young alcayde de los 
 Donzeles, though more prudent than his ardent uncle, was 
 equally brave ; he determined to stand by him in his rash en 
 terprise, and, summoning his little force, marched forth to join 
 the count, who was already on the move. They then pro 
 ceeded together in quest of the enemy. 
 
 The Moorish army had ceased ravaging the country, and 
 were not to be seen, the neighborhood being hilly, and 
 broken with deep ravines. The count dispatched six scouts 
 on horseback to reconnoitre, ordering them to return with all 
 speed when they should have discovered the enemy, and by 
 
72 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 keeping 
 guard, while the foot-soldiers were seated on the grass making 
 a repast. They returned immediately with the intelligence. 
 
 The count now ordered the troops to march in the direction 
 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 of about 
 six hundred. The whole force seemed prepared to march for 
 the frontier. The foot-soldiers were already under way, with 
 many prisoners, and a great train of mules and beasts of bur 
 den, laden with booty. At a distance was Boabdil el Chico : 
 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, hurrying the march of the 
 loitering troops. 
 
 The eyes of the count de Cabra glistened with eager joy, as 
 he beheld the royal prize within his reach. The immense dis 
 parity of their forces never entered into his mind. By San 
 tiago !" said he to his nephew, as they hastened down the hill, 
 "had we waited for more forces, the Moorish king and his 
 army would have escaped us !" 
 
 The count now harangued his m0n, to inspirit them to his 
 hazardous encounter. He told them not to be dismayed at the 
 number of Moors, for God often permitted the few to conquer 
 the many ; and he had great confidence, that, through the di 
 vine aid, they were that day to achieve a signal victory, which 
 should win them both riches and renown. He commanded 
 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 Mendoza, 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. 
 
THE CONQUEST Off OHANADA. 73 
 
 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 numer 
 ous 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. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF LUCENA. 
 
 THE Moorish king had descried the Spanish forces at a dis 
 tance, although a slight fog prevented his seeing them dis 
 tinctly, and ascertaining their numbers. His old father-in-law, 
 Ali Atar, was by his side, who, being a veteran marauder, was 
 well acquainted with all the standards and armorial bearings 
 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 bor 
 derer was for once at a loss, for the banner had not been dis 
 played 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 device is borne by the towns of 
 Baeza 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." 
 
 The count de Cabra, in winding down the hill towards the 
 Moors, found himself on much lower ground than the enemy : 
 he ordered in all haste that his standard should be taken 
 back, so as to gain the vantage ground. The Moors, 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 " Santi 
 ago !" and, dealing 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 endeavored to rally 
 them. "Hold ! hold ! for shame !" cried he; " let us not fly, at 
 
74 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 least until we know our enemy." The Moorish chivalry were 
 stung by this reproof, and turned to make frc it, with the 
 valor of men who feel that they are fighting under their mon 
 arch s eye. 
 
 At this moment, Lorenzo de Porres, 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 ; * the 
 whole world seems in arms against your majesty !" 
 
 The trumpet of Lorenzo de Porres was answered by that of 
 the count de Cabra, in another direction, and it seemed to the 
 Moors as if they were between two armies. Don Lorenzo, 
 sallying from among the oaks, now charged upon the enemy i 
 the latter did not wait to ascertain the force of this new foe ; 
 the confusion, the variety of alarums, the attacks from oppo 
 site quarters, the obscurity of the fog, all conspired to deceive 
 them as to the number of their adversaries. Broken and dis 
 mayed, they retreated fighting ; and nothing but the presence 
 and remonstrance 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 with the 
 flower of the king s guards and of his royal household. At 
 length they came to the rivulet of Mingonzales, the verdant 
 banks of which were covered with willows and tamarisks. It 
 was swoln by recent rain, and was now a deep and turbid tor 
 rent. 
 
 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 mon 
 arch, in this hour of extremity. The foot-soldiers took to 
 flight, the moment they passed the ford ; many of the horse 
 men, partaking of the general panic, gave reins to their steeds 
 and scoured for the frontier. The little host of devoted cava 
 liers now serried their forces in front of their monarch, to pra 
 tect his retreat. They fought hand to hand with the Christian 
 warriors, disdaining to yield or to ask for quarter. The 
 ground wasj covered with the dead and dying. The king, hav 
 ing retreated along the river banks, and gained some distance 
 from the scene of combat, looked back, and saw the loyal band 
 at length give way. They crossed the ford, followed pell-mell 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 75 
 
 by the enemy, and several of them were struck down into the 
 stream. 
 
 The king now dismounted from his white charger, whose 
 color and rich caparison made him too conspicuous, and en 
 deavored to conceal himself among the thickets which fringed 
 the river. A soldier of Lucena, named Martin Hurtado, dis 
 covered him, and attacked him with a pike. The king de 
 fended himself with scimitar, and target, until another soldier 
 assailed him, and he saw a third approaching. Perceiving 
 that further resistance would be vain, he drew back and 
 called upon them to desist, offering them a. noble ransom. 
 One of the soldiers rushed forward to seize him, but the Mng 
 struck him to the earth with a blow of his scimitar. 
 
 Don Diego Fernandez de Cordova coming up at this 
 moment, the men said to him, "Seiior, here is a Moor that we 
 have taken, who seems to be a man of rank, and offers a large 
 ransom." 
 
 " Slaves !" exclaimed king Boabdil, " 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 concealed 
 his quality, and gave himself out as the son of Aben Aleyzar, 
 a nobleman of the royal household.* Don Diego gave him in 
 charge of five soldiers, to conduct him to the castle of Lucena ; 
 then, putting spurs to his horse, he hastened to rejoin the 
 count de Cabra, who was in hot pursuit of the enemy. He 
 overtook him at a stream called Rianaul ; and they continued 
 to press on the skirts of the flying army, during the remainder 
 of tiie day. The pursuit was almost as hazardous as the battle ; 
 for, had the enemy at any time recovered 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 lancers in the advance. The Moors kept 
 up a Parthian retreat ; several times they turned to make bat 
 tle; 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 theXenrA, and opening through the mountains ot Algaringo 
 to the city of Loxa. The alarm-fires of the preceding night 
 had roused the country; every man snatched sword and 
 
 * Garibay, lib. 40, c. 31. 
 
76 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 buckler from the wall, and the towns and villages poured forth 
 their warriors to harass the retreating foe. AH Atar 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 Antiquera, 
 where were several of the cavaliers who had escaped from the 
 carnage in the mountains of Malaga. Their proud minds were 
 festering with their late disgrace, and their only prayer was 
 for vengeance on the infidels. No sooner did they hear of the. 
 Moor being over the border, than they were armed and 
 mounted for action. Don Alonzo de Aguilar led them forth ; 
 a small body of but forty horsemen, but all cavaliers of prowess, 
 and thirsting for revenge. They came upon the foe on the. 
 banks of the Xenel, where it winds through the valleys of 
 Cordova. The river, swelled by the late rains, was deep 
 and turbulent, and only fordable at certain places. The main 
 body of the army was gathered in confusion on the banks, 
 endeavoring to ford the stream, protected by the cavalry of 
 Ali Atar. 
 
 No sooner did the little band of Alonzo de Aguilar come in 
 sight of the Moors, than fury flashed from their eyes. "Re 
 member the mountains of Malaga !" they cried to each other, 
 as they rushed to combat. Their charge was desperate, but 
 was gallantly resisted. A scrambling and blood/ fight ensued, 
 hand to hand and sword to sword, 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 armor, 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 far greater in number, and among them were 
 many warriors of rank ; but they were disheartened by defeat, 
 while the Christians were excited even to desperation. 
 
 Ali Atar alone preserved all his fire and energy amid his 
 reverses. He had been enraged at the defeat of the army, the 
 loss of the king, and the ignominious flight he had been obliged 
 to make through a country which had so often been the scene 
 of his exploits: but to be thus impeded in his flight, and 
 harassed and insulted by a mere handful of warriors, roused 
 the violent passions of the old Moor to perfect frenzy. He had 
 marked Don Alonzo de Aguilar dealing his blows (says Aga- 
 pida) with the pious vehemence of a righteous kniglit, who 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 77 
 
 knows that in every wound inflicted upon the infidels, he is 
 doing God service. AH Atar spurred his steed along the bank 
 of the river, to come upon Don Alonzo by surprise. The back 
 of the warrior was towards him ; and, collecting all his force, 
 the Moor hurled his lance to transfix him on the spot. The 
 lance was not thrown with the usual accuracy of Ali Atar ; it 
 tore away a part of the cuirass of Don Alonzo, but failed to in 
 flict a wound. The Moor rushed upon Don Alonzo with his 
 scimitar ; but the latter was on the alert, and parried his blow. 
 They fought desperately upon the borders of the river, alter 
 nately pressing each other into the stream, and fighting their 
 way again up the bank. Ali Atar was repeatedly wounded ; 
 and .Don Alonzo, having pity on his age, would have spared 
 his life; he called upon him to surrender. " Never," cried Ali 
 Atar, " to a Christian dog!" The words were scarce out of his 
 mouth, when the sword of Don Alonzo clove his turbaned 
 head, and sank deep into the brain. He fell dead, without a 
 groan;, his body rolled into the Xenel, nor was it ever found 
 and recognised.* Thus fell Ali Atar, who had long been the 
 terror of Andalusia. As he had hated and warred upon the 
 Christians all his life, so he died in the very act 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 desperate 
 struggle across the Xenel ; and many were trampled down, and 
 perished beneath the waves. Don Alonzo and his band con 
 tinued to harass them until they crossed the frontier; and 
 every blow, struck home to the Moors, seemed to lighten the 
 load of humiliation and sorrow which had weighed heavy on 
 their hearts. 
 
 In this disastrous rout, the Moors lost upwards of five thou 
 sand killed and made prisoners ; many of whom were of the 
 most noble lineages of Granada: numbers fled to rocks and 
 mountains, where they were subsequently taken. 
 
 This battle was called, by some, the battle of Lucena; by 
 others, the battle of the Moorish king, because of the capture 
 of Boabdil. Twenty-two banners fell into the hands of the 
 Christians, and were carried to Vaena, and hung up in the 
 church; where (says a historian of after-times) they remain 
 to this day. Once a year, on the day of St. George, they are 
 borne about in procession, by the inhabitants, who at the same 
 . *_ _ ____^, 
 
 * Cura de los Palacis, 
 
78 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 time give thanks to God for this signal victory granted to thcil 
 forefathers. 
 
 Great was the triumph of the count de Cabra, when, on re 
 turning from the pursuit of the enemy, he found that the 
 Moorish king had fallen into his hands. When the unfortu 
 nate Boabdil was brought before him, however, and he beheld 
 him a dejected captive, whom but shortly before he had seen 
 in royal splendor, surrounded by his army, the generous heart 
 of the count was touched by sympathy. He said every thing 
 that became a courteous and Christian knight, to comfort him ; 
 observing that the same mutability of things which had sud 
 denly destroyed his recent prosperity, might cause his present 
 misfortunes as rapidly to pass away ; since in this world noth 
 ing is stable, and even sorrow has its allotted term. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 LAMENTATIONS OF THE MOORS FOR THE BATTLE OF LUCENA. 
 
 THE sentinels looked out from the watch-towers of Loxa, 
 along the valley of the Xenel, which passes through the moun 
 tains of Algaringo. They looked to behold the king returning 
 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, borne by the chivalry 
 of Loxa, ever foremost in the wars of the border. 
 
 In the evening of the 21st of April, they descried a single 
 horseman urging his faltering steed along the banks of the 
 Xenel. As he drew near, they perceived, by the flash of arms, 
 that he was a warrior, and on nearer approach, by the richness 
 of his armor and the caparison of his steed, they knew 1, im to 
 be a warrior of rank. 
 
 He reached Loxa, faint and aghast; his Arabian courser 
 covered with foam, and dust, and blood, panting and stagger 
 ing with fatigue, and gashed with wounds. Having brought 
 his master in safety, he sunk down and died before the gate of 
 the city. The 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 
 alfaqui of the Albaycin of Granada. When the people of Loxa 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 79 
 
 beheld this noble cavalier, thus alone, haggard and dejected, 
 their hearts were tilled with fearful forebodings. 
 
 "Cavalier," said they, "how fares it with the king and 
 army?" 
 
 He cast his hand mournfully towards the land of the Chris 
 tians. " There they lie !" exclaimed he. "The heavens have 
 fallen upon them. All are lost ! all dead 1" * 
 
 Upon this, there was a great cry of consternation among the 
 people, and loud wailings 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 lives, the army cannot 
 be lost." 
 
 "I saw his turban cleaved by the Christian sword," replied 
 Cidi Caleb. " His body is floating in the Xenel." 
 
 When the soldier heard these words, he smote his breast and 
 threw dust upon his head ; for he was an old follower of Ali 
 Atar. 
 
 The noble Cidi Caleb gave himself no repose, but mounting 
 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 after her som. His replies were 
 still of wounds and death. To one he replied, "I saw thy 
 father pierced with a lance, as he defended the person of the 
 king." To another, "Thy brother fell wounded under the 
 hoofs^pf the horses; but there was no time to aid him, for the 
 Christian cavalry were upon us." To another, "I saw the 
 horse of thy lover, covered with blood and galloping without 
 his rider." To another, " Thy son fought by my side, on th 
 banks of the Xenel : we were surrounded by the enemy, and 
 driven into the stream. I heard him cry upon Allah, in the 
 midst of the waters: when I reached the other bank, he was 
 no longer by my side." 
 
 * Cura de los Palaeios. 
 
80 THE CONQUEST 0V GRANADA. 
 
 The noble Cidi Caleb passed on, leaving all Granada in 
 lamentation ; he urged his steed up the steep avenue of trees 
 and fountains that leads to the Alhambra, nor stopped until he 
 arrived before the gate of Justice. Ayxa, the nj other of Boab- 
 dil, and Morayma, his beloved and tender wife, had daily 
 watched from the tower of Gomeres, to behold his trium 
 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 and 
 then, a deep sigh burst forth, but she raised her eyes to heaven : 
 " It is the will of Allah!" said she, and with these words en 
 deavored to repress the agonies of a mother s sorrow. The 
 tender Morayma threw herself on the earth, and gave way to 
 tne full turbulence of her feelings^ bewailing her husband and 
 her father. The high-minded Ayxa rebuked the violence of 
 her grief: "Moderate these transports, my daughter," said 
 she ; remember magnanimity should be the attribute of 
 princes ; it becomes not them to give way to clamorous sorrow, 
 like common and vulgar minds." But Morayma could only 
 deplore her loss, with the anguish of a tender woman. She 
 shut herself up in her mirador, and gazed all day, with stream 
 ing eyes, upon the vega. Every object before her recalled 
 the causes of her affliction. The river IXenel, which ran 
 shining amidst the groves and gardens, was the same on whose 
 banks 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 
 would burst into an agony of grief. " Alas! my father!" she 
 would exclaim ; the river runs smiling before me, that covers 
 thy mangled remains; who will gather them to an honored 
 tomb, in the land of the unbeliever? And thou, O Boabdil, 
 light of my eyes ! joy of my heart ! life of my life ! wo the 
 day, and wo the hour, that I saw thee depart from these 
 walls. The road by which thou hast departed is solitary; 
 never, will it be gladdened by thy return ! the mountain thou 
 hast traversed lies like a cloud in the distance, and all beyond 
 it .is darkness." 
 
 The royal minstrels were summoned to assuage the sorrows 
 of the queen: they attuned their instruments to cheerful 
 strains ; but in a little while the anguish of their hearts pre 
 vailed, and turned their songs to lamentations. 
 
 "Beautiful Granada!" they exclaimed, "how is thy glory 
 faded! The Vivarrambla no longer echoes to the tramp of 
 
THE CONQUEST GF GRANADA. 81 
 
 steed and sound of trumpet ; no longer is it crowded with thy 
 youthful nobles, eager to display their prowess in the tourney 
 and the festive tilt of reeds. Alas ! the flower of thy chivalry 
 lies low in a foreign land ! the soft note of the lute is no longer 
 heard in thy moonlit streets; the lively castanet is silent 
 upon thy hills ; and the graceful dance of the Zambra is no 
 more seen beneath thy bowers. Behold, the Alhambra is for 
 lorn and desolate ! in vain do the orange and myrtle breathe 
 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; the light of the Alhambra is set for ever!" 
 Thus all Granada, say the Arabian chroniclers, gave itself 
 up to lamentation : there was nothing but the voice of wailing, 
 from the palace to the cottage. All joined to deplore their 
 youthful monarch, cut down in the freshness and promise of 
 his youth ; many feared that the prediction of the astrologers 
 was about to be fulfilled, and that the downfall of the king 
 dom would follow the death of Boabdil ; while all declared, 
 that had he survived, he was the very sovereign calculated to 
 restore the realm to its ancient prosperity and glory. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 HOW MULEY ABEN HASS\N PROFITED BY THE MISFORTUNES OF 
 HIS SON BOABDIL. 
 
 AN unfortunate death atones, with the world, for a multitude 
 of errors. While the populace thought their youthful mon 
 arch had perished in the field, nothing could exceed their grief 
 for his loss, and their adoration of his memory ; when, how 
 ever, they learnt that he was still alive, and had surrendered 
 himself captive to the Christians, their feelings underwent an 
 instant change. They decried his talents as a commander, his 
 courage as a soldier; they railed at his expedition, as rash and 
 ill conducted ; and they reviled him for not having dared to 
 die on the field of battle, rather than surrender to the enemy. 
 
 The alfaquis, as usual, mingled with the populace and art 
 fully guided their discontents. "Behold," exclaimed they. 
 
82 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 " the prediction is accomplished, which was pronounced at the 
 birth of Boabdil. He has been seated on. the throne, and the 
 kingdom has suffered downfall and disgrace by his defeat and 
 captivity. Comfort yourselves, O Moslems ! The evil day has 
 passed by ; the fates are satisfied ; the sceptre which has been 
 broken in the feeble hand of Boabdil, is destined to resume its 
 former power and sway in the vigorous grasp of Aben Has 
 san." 
 
 The people were struck with the wisdom of these words: 
 they rejoiced that the baleful prediction, which had so long 
 hung over them, was at an end; and declared, that none but 
 Muley Aben Hassan had the valor and capacity necessary for 
 the protection of the kingdom, in this time of trouble. 
 
 The longer the captivity of Boabdil continued, the greater 
 grew the popularity of his father. One city after another re 
 newed allegiance to him ; for power attracts power, and for 
 tune 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 family and treasures of her captive son, 
 and retired, with a handful of the nobles, into the Albaycin, the 
 rival quarter of the city, the inhabitants of which still retained 
 feelings of loyalty to Boabdil. Here she fortified herself, and 
 held the semblance of a court in the name of her 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 uncertain popularity. 
 Many of the nobles detested him for his past cruelty ; and a 
 large portion of the soldiery, beside many of the people of his 
 own party, respected the virtues of Ayxa la Horra, and pitied 
 the misfortunes of Boabdil. 
 
 Granada therefore presented the singular spectacle of two 
 sovereignties 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 offspring 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 
 Albaycin. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 83 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 CAPTIVITY OF BOABDIL EL CHICO. 
 
 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 hi? 1 ->n which it was built, girdled by massive walls 
 and ramparts, on which a vigilant watch was maintained 
 night and day. The mountains around were studded with 
 watch-towers, overlooking the lonely roads which led to Gra 
 nada, so that a turban could not stir over the border without 
 the alarm being given, and the whole country put on the 
 alert. Boabdil saw that there was no hope of escape from 
 such a fortress, and tha, 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 affairs ; 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 vigilant 
 guard over his royal prisoner, yet treated him with profound 
 deference; he had appointed the noblest apartments in the 
 castle for his abode, and sought in every way to cheer him 
 during his captivity. A few days only had passed away, when 
 missives arrived from the Castilian sovereigns. Ferdinand 
 had been transported with joy at hearing of the capture of the 
 Moorish monarch, seeing the deep and politic uses that might 
 be made of such an event; but the magnanimous spirit of 
 Isabella was filled with compassion for the unfortunate cap 
 tive. 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 
 queen," said he to the messenger, " that I cannot be unhappy, 
 being in the power of such high and mighty princes, espe 
 cially 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 long thought of submit 
 ting myself to their sway, to receive the kingdom of Granada 
 
84 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA^ 
 
 from their hands, in the same manner that my ancestor re- 
 ceived it from King John II., father to the gracious queen. 
 My greatest sorrow in this my captivity, is, that I must appear 
 to do tnat from force, which I would fain have done from 
 inclination." 
 
 In the mean time, Muley Aben Hassan, finding tke faction 
 of his son still formidable in Granada, was anxious to consoli 
 date his power, by gaining possession of the person of Boabdil. 
 For this purpose, he sent an embassy to the Catholic monarchs, 
 offering large terms for the ransom, or rather the purchase, of 
 his son; proposing, among other conditions, 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 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 prince into the hands of his most un 
 natural and inveterate enemy : a disdainful refusal was there 
 fore returned to the old monarch, whose message had been 
 couched in a vaunting spirit. He was informed that the Cas- 
 tilian 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 
 Boabdil, the sultana Ayxa la Horra, with the concurrence of 
 the party which still remained faithful to him. 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 releasing seventy Christian 
 captives annually, for five years: that he should, moreover, 
 pay a large sum, upon the spot, for his ransom, and at the same 
 time give freedom to four hundred 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 assem 
 blage of nobles and distinguished vassals of the crown, when 
 ever summoned. His only son, and the sons of twelve distin 
 guished Moorish houses, were to be delivered as hostages. 
 
 King Ferdinand was at Cordova when he received this pro 
 position. Queen Isabella was absent at the time. He <vas 
 anxious to consult her in so momentous an affair; or rather, 
 he was fearful of proceeding too precipitately, and not draw* 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 85 
 
 ing from this fortunate event all the advantage of which ii: 
 was susceptible. Without returning any reply, therefore, to 
 the mission, he sent missives to the castle of Vaena, where 
 Boabdil remained in courteous durance of the brave count de 
 Cabra, ordering that the captive monarch should be brought 
 to Cordova. 
 
 The count do Cabra set out, with his illustrious prisoner; 
 but when he arrived at Cordova, king Ferdinand declined see 
 ing the Moorish monarch. He was still undetermined what 
 course to pursue, whether to retain him prisoner, set him at 
 liberty on ransom, or treat him with politic magnanimity; 
 and each course would require a different kind of reception. 
 Until this point should be resolved, therefore, he gave him in 
 charge to Martin de Alarcon, alcayde of the ancient fortress of 
 Porcima, with orders to guard him strictly, but to treat him 
 with the distinction and deference due unto a prince. These 
 commands were strictly obeyed; and, with the exception of 
 oeing restrained in his liberty, the monarch was as nobly enter 
 tained as he could have been in his regal palace at Granada. 
 
 In the mean time, Ferdinand availed himself of this critical 
 moment, while Granada was distracted with factions and dis 
 sensions, and before he had concluded any treaty with Boab 
 dil, 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 towns and castles, and ex 
 tended his ravages to the very gates of Granada. Old Muley 
 Aben Hassan did not venture to oppose him. His city was 
 filed 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 faction 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 among the smoke of infidel villages 
 and hamlets. The most Catholic king (continues Agapida) 
 would gladly have continued 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 very capital, he returned to Cordova covered 
 with laurels, and his army laden with spoils; and now be 
 thought himself of coming to an immediate decision, in regard 
 to his royal prisoner. 
 
86 THE CONQUEST OF OR AN AD A. 
 
 CHAPTER .XX. 
 
 OF THE TREATMENT OF BOABDIL BY THE CASTILIAN SOVEREIGNS. 
 
 A STATELY convention was held by king Ferdinand in the 
 ancient city of Cordova, composed of several of the most rev 
 erend prelates and renowned cavaliers of the kingdom, to 
 determine upon the fate of the unfortunate Boabdil. 
 
 Don Alonzo de Cardenas, the worthy Master of Santiago, was 
 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 disas 
 trous crusade among the mountains of Malaga. He inveighed 
 with ardor against any compromise or compact with the in 
 fidels: the object of this war, he observed, was not the subjec 
 tion of the Moors, but their utter expulsion from the land ; so 
 that there might no longer remain a single stain of Mahome- 
 tanism throughout Christian Spain. He gave it as "his opinion, 
 therefore, that the captive king ought not to be set -at liberty. 
 
 Roderigo Ponce de Leon, the valiant marques of Cadiz, on 
 the contrary, spoke warmly for the release of Boabdil. *He 
 pronounced it a measure of sound policy, even if done without 
 conditions. It would tend to keep up the civil war in Granada, 
 which was as a fire consuming the entrails of the enemy, and 
 effecting more for the interests of Spain, without expense, than 
 all the conquests of its arms. 
 
 The grand cardinal of Spain, Don Pedro Gonzalez de Mendoza, 
 coincided in opinion with the marques of Cadiz. Nay, (added 
 that pious prelate and politic statesman,) it would be sound 
 wisdom to furnish the Moor 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 Agapida,) knowing him 
 self to be but an instrument of Providence in this holy war, 
 and that, therefore, in consulting his own advantage he was 
 
 * Salazar. Cronica del Gran Cardinal, p. 188. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF OR AN AD A. 87 
 
 . 
 
 promoting the interests of the faith. The opinion of queen 
 Isabella relieved him 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 progenitors ; she was content at 
 present to accord the same privilege, and that the royal pri 
 soner should be liberated on condition of becoming a vassal to 
 the crown. By this means might be effected 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 
 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 sover 
 eigns 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 arrange 
 ment, in the castle of Porcuna, preparations were made to re 
 ceive 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 fifty Moorish caveliers, who had 
 come to treat for his ransom, that he might appear in state be 
 fitting the monarch of Granada, and the most distinguished 
 vassal of the Castilian sovereigns. Money also was advanced 
 to maintain him in suitable grandeur, during his residence at 
 the Castilian court, and his return to his dominions. Finally, 
 it was ordered by the sovereigns, that when he came to Cor 
 dova, 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 profound 
 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 
 the Moorish monarch, coming to do homage as a vassal, ought 
 not to kneel and kiss the hand of the king. This was imme 
 diately decided in the affirmative, by a large number of ancient 
 
88 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 cavaliers accustomed (says Antonio Agapida) to the lofty 
 punctilio of our most dignified court and transcendent sove 
 reigns. The king, therefore, was informed by those who ar 
 ranged the ceremonies, that when the Moorish monarch ap 
 peared 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 re 
 ply ; though many condemned it in secret, as savoring of too 
 much generosity towards an infidel; and the worthy Jesuit, 
 Fray Antonio Agapida, fully concurs in their opinion. 
 
 The Moorish king entered Cordova with his little train of 
 faithful knights, and escorted by all the nobility and chivalry 
 or the Castilian court. He was conducted, with great state and 
 ceremony, to the royal palace. When he came in presence of 
 Ferdinand, he knelt and offered to kiss his hand, not merely 
 in homage as his subject, but in gratitude for his liberty. Fer 
 dinand 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 compliments. I trust in 
 his integrity, that he will do every thing becoming a good man 
 and a good king." With these words, he received Boabdil el 
 Chico into his royal friendship and protection. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXI. 
 
 RETURN OF BOABDIL FROM CAPTIVITY. 
 
 IN the month of August, a noble Moor, of the race of the 
 Abencerrages, arrived with a splendid retinue at the city of 
 Cordova, bringing with him the son of Boabdil el Chico, and 
 other of the noble youth of Granada, as hostages for the fulfil 
 ment of the terms of ransom. When the Moorish king beheld 
 his son, his only child, who was to remain in his stead, a sort 
 of captive in a hostile land, he folded him in his arms and 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 89 
 
 wept over him. "Wo the day that I was born!" exclaimed 
 he, l and evil the stars that presided at my birth ! Well was I 
 called El Zcgoybi, or the unlucky; for sorrow is heaped upon 
 me by my father, and sorrow do I transmit to my son !" The 
 afflicted heart of Boabdil, however, was soothed by the kind 
 ness of the Christian sovereigns, who received the hostage 
 prince with a tenderness suited to his age, and a distinction 
 worthy of his rank. They delivered him in charge to the 
 worthy alcayde Martin de Alarcon, who had treated his father 
 with such courtesy during his confinement in the castle of 
 Porcuna, giving orders, that, after the departure of the latter, 
 his son should be entertained with great honor and princely 
 attention, in the same fortress. 
 
 On the 2d of September, a guard of honor assembled at the 
 gate of the mansion of Boabdil, to escort him to the frontiers 
 of his kingdom. He pressed his child to his heart at parting, 
 ^ut 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 observed the vehement struggle that shook his 
 frame, wherein the anguish of the father had well nigh sub 
 dued the studied equanimity of the king. 
 
 Boabdil el Chico and king Ferdinand sallied forth, side by 
 side, from Cordova, amidst the acclamations of a prodigious 
 multitude. When they were a short distance from the city, 
 they separated, with many gracious expressions on the part of 
 the Castilian monarch, and many thankful acknowledgments 
 from his late captive, whose heart had been humbled by adver 
 sity. Ferdinand departed for Guadalupe, and Boabdil for 
 Granada. The latter was accompanied by a guard of honor ; 
 and the viceroys of Andalusia, and the generals on the frontier, 
 were ordered to furnish him wifh escorts, and to show him all 
 possible honor on his journey. In this way he was con 
 ducted in royal state 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 cava 
 liers 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 foi\a moment, when he found himself on 
 his own territories, surrounded by Moslem knights, with his 
 own standards waving over his head ; and he began to doubt 
 the predictions of the astrologers : he soon found cause, how 
 ever, to moderate his exultatioB. The loyal train which had 
 
90 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 come to welcome him, was but scanty in number, and 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 Christian sovereigns had been made use of by his fa 
 ther to ruin him with the people. He had been represented as 
 a traitor to his country, a renegado to his faith, and as leagued 
 with the enemies of both, to subdue the Moslems of Spain to 
 the yoke of Christian bondage. 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 
 Alcazaba. 
 
 Such was the melancholy picture of affairs given to Boabdil 
 by the courtiers who had come forth to meet him. They 
 even informed him that it would be an enterprise of diffi 
 culty 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, Muley 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 evil 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 had foreboded the destruction of that army on which 
 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, that part of the 
 city which had always been in his favor ; 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 favorite wife Morayma. The transports of 
 the latter, on the safe retarn 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, was moved 
 by the changes in every thing round him; but his mother 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 91 
 
 called up his spirit. "This," said she, " is* no time OT tears 
 and fondness. A king must think of. his sceptre and his 
 throne, and not yield tc softness like common men. Thou 
 hast done well, my son, in throwing thyself resolutely into 
 Granada: it must depend upon thyself, whether thou remain 
 here a king or a captive." 
 
 The old king Muley Aben Hassan had retired to his couch 
 ihat night, in one of the strongest towers of the Alhambra; 
 but his j-estless anxiety kept him from repose. In the first 
 watch of the night, he heard a shout faintly rising from the 
 quarter of the Albaycin, which is on the opposite side of the 
 deep valley of the Darro. Shortly afterwards, horsemen came 
 galloping up the hill that leads to the main gate of the Alham 
 bra, spreading the alarm that Boabdil had entered the city and 
 possessed himself of the Alcanaba. 
 
 In the first transports of his rage, the old king would have 
 struck the messenger to earth. He hastily summoned his 
 counsellors 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 morn 
 ing. 
 
 In the mean time, 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 throughout the streets, and large 
 sums of money were distributed among the populace. The 
 nobles, assembled in the Alcazaba, were promised honors 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 Albay 
 cin were in 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 shout 
 ing for Boabdil, and some for Muley Aben Hassan. When 
 they encountered each other, they fought furiously and with 
 out mercy; every public square became a scene of battle. 
 The great mass of the lower orders was in favor 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 
 
92 THE CONQUEST OF GRAN Aft A. 
 
 pride and valor, soon drove the populace from the squares. 
 They fortified themselves, however, in the streets and lanep, 
 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 Granada was laid low 
 by plebeian hands and plebeian weapons, in this civic brawl. 
 
 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 inter 
 ference of the alfaquis, an armistice was at length effected. 
 Boabdil was persuaded that there was no dependence upon the 
 inconstant favor 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 splen 
 dor and importance. This compromise-of grandeur for tran 
 quillity, however, was sorely against the counsels of his proud 
 spirited mother, the sultana Ayxa. Granada appeared, in her 
 eyes, the only legitimate seat 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 XXII. 
 
 FORAY OF THE MOORISH ALCAYDES, AND BATTLE OF LOPERA. 
 
 THOUGH Muley Aben Hassan had regained undivided sway 
 over the city of Granada, and the alfaquis, by his command, 
 had denounced his son Boabdil as an apostate, and as one 
 doomed by Heaven to misfortune, still the kitter 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 
 natupe of his standing, by shouting out the name of Boabdil el 
 Chico. Long experience had instructed Mulcy Abcn Hassan 
 in the character of the inconstant people over whom he ruled. 
 "Allah Ach bar!" exclaimed he, "God is great; but a succes* 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 93 
 
 fill inrca 1 into the country of the unbelievers will make more 
 converts to my cause than a thousand texts of the Koran, ex 
 pounded 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 favorable for a foray, and Muley Aben Hassan cast about 
 his thoughts for a leader to conduct it. Ah Atar, the terror of 
 the border, the scourge of Andalusia, was dead ; but there was 
 another veteran general, scarce inferior to him for predatory 
 warfare. This was old Bexir, the gray and crafty alcayde of 
 Malaga ; and the people under his command were ripe for an 
 expedition of the kind. The signal defeat and slaughter of the 
 Spanish knights in the neighboring mountains had filled the 
 people of Malaga with vanity and self-conceit. They had 
 attributed to their own valor the defeat which had been caused 
 by the nature of the country. Many of them wore the armor 
 and paraded in public with the horses of the unfortunate cav 
 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 de 
 fended by such troops. This, Muley Aben Hassan considered 
 a favorable state of mind to insure a daring 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 imme 
 diately dispatched his emissaries among the alcaydes of the 
 border towns, calling upon them to assemble with their troops 
 at the city of Honda, 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 cross-bow with unerring 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 sigh in vain 
 for deliverance from this impregnable fortress. Such was 
 Honda in the time of the Moors; and it has ever retained 
 
94 THE CONQUEST OF Gil AX AD A. 
 
 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 mountaineers; and the 
 Serrania de Honda is famous as the most dangerous resort of 
 the bandit and the contrabandista. 
 
 Hamet Zeli, surnamed El Zegri, was the commander of this 
 belligerent city and its fierce inhabitants. He was of the tribe 
 of the Zegries, and one of the most proud and daring of thaix 
 warlike race. Beside the inhabitants of Eonda, 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 pastur 
 age of the valley of Ronda produced a breed of horses famous 
 for strength and speed; no cavalry, therefore, was better 
 mounted than the band of Gomeres. Eapid 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 fifteen 
 hundred horse and four thousand foot, the very pith and 
 marrow of the surrounding country, assembled within the 
 walls of Ronda. The 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 kettle-drum and trumpet; the high-mettled steeds 
 stamped and neighed in their stalls, as if they shared the im 
 patience for the foray; while the Christian captives sighed, 
 as the varied din of preparation reached to their rocky dun 
 geons, denoting that a fresh ravage 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 armor of the 
 Christian knights slain or taken prisoners in the famous mas 
 sacre, and some of them rode the Andalusian steeds which had 
 been captured on that occasion. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 95 
 
 The wary Bexir had concerted hi^ 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 
 Eonda extended like a screen, covering all their movements 
 from observation. 
 
 The army made its way as rapidly as the rugged nature of 
 the mountains would permit, guided by Hamet el Zegri, the 
 bold alcayde 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, intend 
 ing to burst down like the thunderbolt upon the plain. 
 
 Never let the most wary commander fancy himself secure 
 Tom discovery ; for rocks have eyes, and trees have ears, and 
 ne birds of the air have tongues, to betray the most secret 
 3iiterprise. 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 mountain 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 righteous 
 ness 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^ and were looking out like 
 birds of prey, ready to pounce u^on any thing that might 
 offer in the valley, when they descried the Moorish army 
 emerging from a mountain glen. They watched it in silence 
 as it wound below them, remarking the standards of the 
 various towns and the pennons of the commanders. They 
 hovered about it on its march, skulking from cliff to cliff, 
 until 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 
 alcayde, that they might spread the alarm far and wide, and 
 each get a separate reward. 
 
 One hastened to Luis Fernandez Puerto Carrero, the same 
 
96 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA: 
 
 valiant alcayde who had repulsed Muley 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 neighborhood, putting 
 them all 011 the alert. 
 
 Puerto Carrero was a cavalier of consummate vigor and 
 activity. He immediately sent couriers to the alcaydes of the 
 neighboring fortresses ; to Herman Carrello, captain pf a body 
 of the Holy Bi otherhood, and of 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 
 scampers, he made every man take a hearty repast, and see 
 that his horse was well shod and perfectly appointed. Then 
 all being refreshed and in valiant heart, 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 whom the cry of "Arm and out! to horse 
 and to the field 1" was sufficient at any time to put 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 marques of Cadiz. When 
 the marques^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 mas 
 sacre in the mountains, where his valiant brothers had been 
 mangled before his eyes. The very authors of his calamity 
 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 hurried off with three 
 hundred horse and two Mmdred foot, all resolute men and 
 panting for revenge. 
 
 In the mean time, the veteran Bexir had accomplished his 
 march, as he imagined, undiscovered. From the openings of 
 the craggy defiles, he pointed out the fertile plains of Andalu 
 sia, 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 breeze, 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, 
 
THE 0^ QUEST OF GRANADA. 97 
 
 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 thickets on the 
 banks of the river Lopera: the third, consisting of light 
 cavalry, he sent forth to ravage the Campifia, or great plain 
 of Utrera. Most of this latter force was composed of the fiery 
 Gomeres of Honda, mounted on the fleet steeds bred among 
 the mountains. It was led by the bold alcayde Hamet el 
 Zegri, who was ever eager to be foremost in the forage. Little 
 suspecting that the country on both sides was on the alarm, 
 and rushing from all directions to close upon them in rear, 
 this fiery 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 droves, 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 
 endeavored to defend themselves; but they were without a 
 leader, for Hamet el Zegri was at a distance, having, like a 
 hawk, made a wide circuit in pursuit of prey. The marauders 
 soon gave way and fled towards the ambush on the banks of 
 the Lopera, being hotly pursued by the men of Ut^fcra. 
 
 When they reached the Lopera, the Moors in ambush rushed 
 forth with furious cries ; and the fugitives, recovering courage 
 from this reinforcement, rallied and turned upon their pur 
 suers. The Christians stood their ground, though greatly in 
 ferior in number. Their lances were soon broken, and they 
 came to sharp work with a word and scimitar. The Christians 
 fought valiantly, but were in danger of being overwhelmed. 
 The bold Hamet had collected a handful of his scattered Go- 
 meres, 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 
 
98 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 of Alcantara, and the men-at-arms of the Holy Brotherhood 
 At length the veteran Bexir was struck from his horse b 
 Puerto Carrero, and taken prisoner, and the whole force ga\ 
 way and fled. In their flight, they separated, and took tw 
 roads to the mountains, thinking, by dividing their forces, 1 j 
 distract the enemy. The Christians were too few to separate. 
 Puerto Carrero kept them together, pursuing one division of the 
 enemy with great slaughter. This battle took place at the foun 
 tain 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 Guadalete. 
 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 
 Guadalete, a fresh storm of war burst upon them from an op 
 posite direction. It was the marques of Cadiz, leading on his 
 household troops and the fighting 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 
 armor of tl^cavaliers who had been slain among the moun 
 tains of Malaga. Nay, some who had been in that defeat 
 beheld their own armor, which they had cast away in their 
 flight, to enable themselves to climb the mountains. Exasper 
 ated 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 marques, himself, be 
 held a powerful Moor bestriding the horse of his brother Bel- 
 tram : giving a cry of rage and anguish at the sight, he rushed 
 through the thickest of the enemy, attacked the Moor with re 
 sistless fury, and after a short combat, hurled him breathless 
 to the earth. 
 
 The Moors, already vanquished in spirit, could not withstand 
 the assault of men thus madly excited. They soon gave way, 
 and fled for the defile of the Serrania de Honda, 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 weapons at their deadly 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 99 
 
 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 marques of Cadiz and his 
 followers reposed themselves upon the banks of the Guadalete, 
 where they divided the spoil. Among this were found many 
 rich corselets, 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 
 Antiquera upon that fatal expedition. Thus the exultation of 
 the victors was dashed with melancholy, and many a knight 
 was seen lamenting over the helmet or corselet of some loved 
 companion in arms. 
 
 The good marques of Cadiz was resting under a tree on the 
 banks of the Guadaifete, when the horse which had belonged to 
 his slaughtered brother Beltram was brought to him. He laid 
 his hand upon the mane, and looked wistfully at the empty 
 saddle. His bosom heaved with violent agitation, and his lip 
 quivered and was pale. "Ay de 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 round on the field strewn with the 
 bodies of the enemy, and in the bitterness of his wo he felt con 
 soled by the idea that his brother had not been unrevenged. 
 
 Note." En el despojo de la Bat alia se ireron muchas ricas corazas e capacetes, i 
 barberas de las que se habian perdido en el Axarquia, e otras muchas annas, e al- 
 Kiines fueron conocidas de sus Duenos que las havian dejado por fuir, e otras 
 f neron conocidas, que eran mui serial das de homhres principales que havian que- 
 ili do inuertos e cautivos, i fueron tornados inuchos de los mismos Cavallos con sus 
 ricas sillas. de los que quedaron en la Axarquia, e fueron concidos cuios eran." 
 <Jura de los Palacios, cap. 67. 
 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 RETREAT OF HEMET EL ZEGRI, ALCAYDE OF RONDA. 
 
 THE bold alcayde of Ronda, Hamet 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 
 
100 THE CONQUEST QW GRANADA. 
 
 were with him but a handful of his Gomeres. He saw the 
 scamper and puj^uit afar off, and beheld the Christian horse 
 men spurring madly on towards the ambuscade on the banks 
 of the Lopera. Hamet tossed his hand triumphantly alcft, 
 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 spurred across the plain, and reached 
 a rising ground, just as the force of Puerto Carrero had 
 charged, with sound of trumpet, . upon the flank of the party in 
 ambush. Hamet beheld the headlong rout of the army, with 
 rage and consternation. He found the country was pouring 
 forth its legions from every quarter, and perceived that there 
 was no safety but in precipitate flight. 
 
 But which way to fly? An army was between him and the 
 mountain pass ; all the forces of the neighborhood were rush 
 ing 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 the stirrups, and rolled a stern an* thoughtful eye over 
 the country ; then sinking into his saddle, he seemed to com 
 mune a moment with himself. Turning quickly to his troop, 
 he singled out a renegado Christian, a traitor to his religion 
 and his king. " Come hither, " said Hamet. " Thou knowest 
 all the secret passes -of the country." "I do," replied the 
 renegado. "Dost thou know any circuitous route, solitary 
 and untravelled, by which we can pass wide within these 
 troops, and reach the Serrania?" The renegado paused: "Such 
 a route I know, but it is full of peril, for it leads through 
 the heart of the Christian land." "Tis well," said Hamet; 
 "the more dangerous in appearance, the less it will be sus 
 pected. Now hearken to me. Ride by my side. Thou seest 
 this purse of gold, and this scimitar. Take us, by the route 
 thou hast mentioned, safe to the pass of the Serrania, and this 
 purse shall be thy reward ; betray us, and this scimitar shall 
 cleave thee to the saddle-bow."* 
 
 The renegado obeyed, trembling. They turned off from the 
 direct road to the mountains, and struck southward towards 
 Lebrixa, passing by the most solitary roads, and along those 
 deep ramblas and ravines by which the country is intersected. 
 It was indeed a daring course. Every now and then they 
 heard the distant sound of trumpets, and the alarm-bells of 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios. Ubi sup. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 101 
 
 towns and villages, and found that the war was still hurry 
 ing to the borders. They hid themselves in thickets, and in 
 the dry beds of rivers, until the danger had passed by, and 
 then resumed their course. Hamet el Zegri rode on in silence, 
 his hand upon his scimitar 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 
 having thus to skulk through a country they had come to 
 ravage. 
 
 When night fell, they struck into more practicable roads, 
 always keeping wide of the villages and hamlets, lest the 
 watch-dogs should betray them. In this way, they passed in 
 deep midnight by Areos, 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 
 arid 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 with mangled bodies. The alcayde of 
 Ronda was almost frantic with rage, at 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 aban 
 doned their steeds, thrown away their armor, and clambered 
 up the cliffs, where they could not be pursued by the Christian 
 cavalry. 
 
 The Moorish army had sallied forth from Ronda, amidst 
 shouts and acclamations ; but wailings were heard within its 
 walls, as the alcayde and his broken band returned without 
 banner or trumpet, and haggard with famine and fatigue. 
 The tidings of their disaster had preceded them, borne by the 
 fugitives of the army. No one ventured to speak to the stern 
 Hamet el Zegri, as he entered the city ; for they saw a dark 
 cloud gathered upon his brow. 
 
 It seemed (says the pious Antonio Agapida) as if Heaven 
 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 Moor 
 ish chivalry, which had descended so confidently into Anda 
 lusia, not more than two hundred escaped. The choicest 
 troops of the frontier were either taken or destroyed; the 
 Moorish garrisons enfeebled ; and many alcaydes and cavaliers 
 
102 THE CONQUEST OP GRANADA. 
 
 of noble lineage carried into captivity, who were afterwards 
 obliged to redeem themselves with heavy ransoms. 
 
 This was called the battle of Lopera, and was fought on the 
 17th of September, 1483. Ferdinand and Isabella were at 
 Vittoria in old Castile, when they received news of the victory, 
 and the standards taken from the enemy. They celebrated 
 the event with processions, illuminations, and other festivities. 
 Ferdinand sent to the marques of Cadiz the royal raiment 
 which he had worn on that day, and conferred on him, and on 
 all those who should inherit his title, the privilege of wearing 
 royal robes on our Lady s day, in September, in commemora 
 tion of this victory.* 
 
 Queen Isabella was equally mindful of the great services of 
 Don Luis Fernandez Puerto Carrero. Besides many encomi 
 ums and favors, 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 bat 
 tle.* 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 OF THE RECEPTION AT COURT OF THE COUNT DE CABRA AND 
 THE ALCAYDE DE LOS DONZELES. 
 
 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 nephew, the alcayde de los Donzeles, at the 
 stately and ceremonious court of the Castilian sovereigns, in 
 reward for the capture of the Moorish king Boabdil. The 
 court (he observes) was held at the time in the ancient Moor 
 ish palace of the city of Cordova, and the ceremonials were 
 arranged by that venerable prelate Don Pedro Gonzalez de 
 Mendoza, bishop of Toledo and grand cardinal of Spain. 
 
 It was on Wednesday, the 14th of October, (continues the 
 precise Antonio Agapida,) that the good count de Cabra, ac 
 cording 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 
 
 * Mariana. Abarca, Zurita, Pulgar, &c. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 103 
 
 many of the first grandees and prelates of the kingdom. By 
 this august train was he attended to the palace, amidst tri 
 umphant strains of martial music, and the shouts of a pro 
 digious multitude. 
 
 When the count arrived in the presence of the sovereigns, 
 who were seated in state on a dais or raised part of the hall of 
 audience, they both arose. The king advanced exactly five 
 steps towards the count, who knelt and kissed his majesty s 
 hand ; but the king would not receive him as a mere vassal, 
 but embraced him with affectionate cordiality. The queen 
 also advanced two steps, and received the count with a coun 
 tenance full of sweetness and benignity: after he had kissed 
 her hand, the king and queen returned to their thrones, and, 
 cushions being brought, they ordered the count de Cabra to be 
 seated in their presence. This last circumstance is written in 
 large letters, and followed by several notes of admiration, in 
 the manuscript of the worthy Fray Antonio Agapida, who con 
 siders the extraordinary privilege of sitting in presence of the 
 Catholic sovereigns an honor well worth fighting for. 
 
 The good count took his seat 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 Gutierre 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 are named. The Infanta Isabella was prevented, by in 
 disposition, from attending the ceremony. 
 
 And now festive music resounded through the hall, and 
 twenty ladies of the queen s retinue entered magnificently 
 attired ; upon which twenty youthful cavaliers, very gay and 
 galliard in their array, stepped forth, and, each seeking his 
 fair partner, they commenced a stately dance. The court in 
 the mean time (observes Fray Antonio Agapida) looked on 
 with lofty and becoming gravity. 
 
 When the dance was concluded, the king and queen rose to 
 retire to supper, and dismissed the count with many gracious 
 expressions. He was then attended by all the grandees present 
 to the palace of the grand cardinal, where they partook of a 
 sumptuous banquet. 
 
 On the following Saturday, the alcayde de los Donzeles was 
 received, likewise, with great honors; .but the ceremonies were 
 so arranged, as to be a degree less in dignity than those shown 
 
104 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 to his uncle ; the latter being considered the principal 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 conversa 
 tion until summoned to the sovereigns. 
 
 When the alcayde de los Donzeles entered the presence 
 chamber, the king and queen rose from their chairs, but with 
 out advancing. They greeted him graciously, and commanded 
 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 In 
 fanta 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 cour 
 tesy 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 honors 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 honors with a heed 
 less 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 sover 
 eigns. The court that evening was attended by the highest 
 nobility, arrayed with that cost and splendor for which the 
 Spanish nobility of those days were renowned. 
 
 Before supper, there was a stately and ceremonious dance, 
 befitting the dignity of so august a court. The king led forth 
 the queen, in grave and graceful measure; the count de Cabra 
 was honored with the hand of the Infanta Isabella ; and the 
 alcayde de los Donzeles danced with a daughter of the marques 
 de Astorga. 
 
 The dance being concluded, the royal party repaired to the 
 supper-table, which was placed on an elevated part of the sa 
 loon. Here, in full view of the court, the count de Cabra and 
 the alcayde de los Donzeles supped at the same table with the 
 king, the queen, and the Infanta. The royal family were 
 served by the marques of Villena. The cupbearer to the king 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 1Q5 
 
 was his nephew Fadrigue de Toledo, son to the duke of Alva. 
 Don Alexis de Estaiiiga had the honor of fulfilling that office for 
 the queen, and Tello de Aguilar for the Infanta. Other cava 
 liers of rank and distinction waited on the count and the al- 
 cayde de los Donzeles. At one o clock, the two distinguished 
 guests were dismissed with many courteous expressions by the 
 sovereigns. 
 
 Such (says Fray Antonio Agapida) were the great nonors 
 paid at our most exalted and ceremonious court, to these re 
 nowned cavaliers: but the gratitude of the sovereigns did not 
 end 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 descendants 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, continue to bear these arms 
 at the present day, in memorial of the victory of Lucena and 
 the capture of Boabdil el Chico.* 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 HOW THE MARQUES OF CADIZ CONCERTED TO SURPRISE ZAHARA, 
 AND THE RESULT OF HIS ENTERPRISE. 
 
 THE valiant Roderigo Ponce de Leon, marques 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 service, in 
 procuring information. Availing themselves of their Moorish 
 character and tongue, they penetrated into the enemy s coun 
 try, prowled about the castlss and fortresses, noticed the state 
 of the walls, the gates and towers, the strength of their gar 
 rison, and the vigilance or negligence of their commanders. 
 All this they reported minutely to the marques, who thus 
 
 The account given by Fray Antonio Agapida of this ceremonial, so characteris- 
 the old Spanish court, agrees in almost every particular with an ancient 
 manuscript, made up from the chronicle of the curate of los Palacios and other 
 old Spanish writers. 
 
106 THIS CONQUEST OP GRANADA. 
 
 knew the state of every fortress upon the frontier, and when 
 it might be attacked with advantage. Beside the various 
 towns and cities over which he held a feudal sway, he had 
 always an armed force about him ready 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 cuirasses and weapons of all kinds, ready burnished for 
 use ; and his stables were filled with hardy steeds, that could 
 stand a mountain scamper. 
 
 The marques 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 alcaydes, 
 and their choicest troops. He sent out his war-hounds, there 
 fore, upon the range to ascertain where a successful blow 
 might be struck ; and they soon returned, with word that Za- 
 hara 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 re 
 mained a thorn in the side of Andalusia. All the Christians 
 had been carried away captive, and no civil population had 
 been introduced in their" stead. There were no women or chil 
 dren in the place. It was kept up as a mere military post, 
 commanding one of the most important passes of the moun 
 tains, and was a strong-hold of Moorish marauders. The mar 
 ques 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 sent missives therefore to 
 the brave Luis Fernandez Puerto Carrero, who had distin 
 guished himself in the late victory, and to Juan Almaraz, cap 
 tain of the men-at-arms of the Holy 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 glori 
 ous apostles St. Simon and Judas, the twenty-eighth of Octo 
 ber, in the year of grace one thousand four hundred and 
 eighty-three, that this chosen band of Christian soldiers assem 
 bled suddenly and secretly at the appointed place. Their 
 forces, when united, amounted to six hundred horse and fif 
 teen hundred foot. Their gathering place was at the entrance 
 of the defile leading to Zahara. That ancient town, renowned 
 in Moorish warfare, is situated in one of the roughest passes of 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 107 
 
 the Serrania de Ronda. It 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 Anto 
 nio Agapida observes) the walls of impregnable fortresses, like 
 the virtue of self-confident saints, have their weak points of 
 attack. 
 
 The marques of Cadiz advanced with Ms little army in the 
 dead of the night, marching silently into the deep and dark de 
 files of the mountains, and stealing up the ravines which ex 
 tended to the walls of the town. Their approach was so noise 
 less, that the Moorish sentinels upon the walls heard not a 
 voice or a footfall. The marques 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 distance, 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 ac 
 quainted with the place, was appointed to give signals; and 
 was so stationed, that he could be seen by the various parties 
 in ambusk, but was hidden from the garrison. 
 
 The remainder of the night passed away in profound quiet. 
 The Moorish sentinels eould be heard tranquilly patrolling the 
 walls, in perfect security. The day dawned, and the rising 
 sun began to shine against the lofty peaks of the Serrania de 
 Honda. The sentinels looked from their battlements over a 
 savage but quiet mountain country, where not a human being 
 was stirring ; they little dreamt of the mischief that lay lurk 
 ing 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 marques, a small body of light cavalry 
 passed along the glen, and, turning round a point of rock, 
 showed themselves before the town : they skirred the fields 
 almost to the gates, as if by way of bravado, and to defy the 
 garrison to a skirmish. The Moors were not slow in replying 
 to it. About seventy horse, and a number of foot who had 
 guarded the walls, sallied forth impetuously, thinking to make 
 
108 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 easy prey of these insolent marauders. The Christian horsemen 
 fled for the ravine; the Moors pursued them down the hill, 
 until 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 marques of Cadiz 
 and Luis Fernandez Puerto Carrero rushed forth at the same 
 time with their ambuscade, and endeavored to cut them off ; 
 but the Moors succeeded in throwing themselves within the 
 walls. 
 
 While Puerto Carrero stormed at the gate, the marques put 
 spurs to his horse and galloped to the support of Ortega de 
 Prado and his scaling party. He arrived at a moment of 
 imminent 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 marques sprang from his 
 horse, mounted a ladder, sword in hand, followed by a number 
 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 streets, but at 
 length took refuge in the castle, the walls of which were strong, 
 and capable of holding out until relief should arrive. The 
 marques had no desire to carry on a siege, and he had not pro 
 visions sufficient for many prisoners ; he granted them, there 
 fore, favorable terms. They were permitted, 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 marques remained in the place 
 until both town and castle were put in a perfect state of de 
 fence, and strongly garrisoned. 
 
 Thus did Zahara return once more into 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 Castiliaii sovereigns were 
 so gratified by this achievement of the valiant Ponce de Leon, 
 that they authorized him thenceforth to entitle himself duke of 
 Cadiz and marques of Zahara. The warrior, however, was so 
 proud of the original title, under which he had so often sig 
 nalized himself, that he gave it the precedence, and always 
 signed himself, marques, duke of Cadiz. As the reader may 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios. c. W. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 109 
 
 have acquired the same predilection, we shall continue to call 
 him by his ancient title. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 OF THE FORTRESS OF ALHAMA, AND HOW WISELY IT WAS GOV 
 ERNED BY THE COUNT DE TENDILLA. 
 
 IN this part of the chronicle, the worthy father Fray Antonio 
 Agapida indulges in triumphant exultation over the downfall 
 of Zahara: Heaven sometimes speaks (says he) through the 
 mouths of false prophets for the confusion of the wicked. By 
 the fall of this 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 scoffs at the Moorish alcayde, who 
 lost nis 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 important post of Alhama was at this time confided by 
 king Ferdinand to Don Inigo Lopez de Mendoza, count of Ten- 
 dilla, 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 waste the 
 surrounding country. His fortress was critically situated. 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 situated, in the heart of 
 the enemy s country, surrounded by foes ready to assail him, 
 and a rich country for him to ravage, it behoved this cavalier 
 to be for ever on the alert. He was in fact an experienced 
 veteran, a shrewd and wary officer, and a commander amaz 
 ingly prompt and fertile in expedients. 
 
 On assuming the command, he found that the garrison con 
 sisted 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 ac 
 customed to predatory warfare. Tli^ would fight hard for 
 booty, and then gamble it heedlessly away, or squander it in 
 
THE COXqUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 licentious revelling. Albania abounded with hawking, sharp 
 ing, idle hangers-on, eager to profit by the vices and follies of 
 the garrison. The soldiers were oftener gambling and dancing 
 beneath the walls, than keeping watch upon the battlements; 
 and nothing was hea*d, 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 inter 
 rupted by the loud brawl, and fierce and bloody contest. 
 
 The count of Tendilla set 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 exposed 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. " 
 
 He endeavored to awaken a proper ambition in the minds 
 of his soldiers, and to instil into them 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 sufficient 
 to sanction the profligacy of the means, and the want of 
 order and subordination among the troops may bring ruin 
 and disgrace upon the best concerted plans." But we cannot 
 describe the character and conduct of this renowned com 
 mander in more forcible language than that of Fray Antonio 
 Agapida, excepting that the pious father places in the fore 
 ground of his virtues his hatred of the Moors. "The count de 
 Tendilla," says he, "was a mirror of Christian knighthood 
 watchful, abstemious, chaste, devout, and thoroughly filled 
 with the spirit of the cause. He labored 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. The worthy cavalier 
 discountenanced all idleness, rioting, chambering, and wanton 
 ness among his soldiery. He 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 valor 
 of the soldier ; no other music was allowed but the wholesome 
 rolling of the drum ancWbraying of the trumpet, and such like 
 spirit-stirring instrument? a fill the mind with thoughts of 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 iron war. All wandering minstrels, sharping pedlars, sturdy 
 trulls, and other camp trumpery, were ordered to pack up 
 their baggage, and were drummed out of the gates of Alhama. 
 In place of such lewd 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 labored, by vigilance and vigor, to reduce 
 to a game of certainty. Heaven smiled upon the efforts 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. 
 Their banners were blessed by the holy friars whom he main 
 tained in Alhama ; and in this way success was secured to his 
 arms, and he was enabled to lay waste the land of the heathen. 
 
 The fortress of Alhama (continues Fray Antonio Agapida) 
 overlooked from its lofty site a great part of the fertile vega, 
 watered by the Cazin and the Xenel : from this he made fre 
 quent sallies, sweeping away the flocks and herds from the 
 pasture, the laborer 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 corn, and sheltered their wives and chil 
 dren. 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 this pious knight and his followers return 
 ing 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 children- 
 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 ; nor was he unmind 
 ful of the pious fathers, whose blessings crowned his enter 
 prises with success. A large portion of the spoil was always 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 dedicated to the church ; and the good friars were ever ready 
 at the gate to hail him on his return, and receive the share 
 allotted them. Beside 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 his 
 torians of equal veracity, but less unction, agree in pronounc 
 ing him one of the ablest of Spanish generals. So terrible in 
 fact did he become in the land, that the Moorish peasantry 
 could not venture a league from Granada or Loxa to labor in 
 the fields, without peril of being carried into captivity. The 
 people of Granada clamored against Muley Aben Hassan, for 
 suffering his lands to be thus outraged and insulted, and de 
 manded to have this bold marauder shut up in his fortress. 
 The old monarch was roused by their remonstrances. He 
 sent forth powerful 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 
 neighborhood of Alhama, keeping strict watch upon its gates; 
 so that it was impossible for the Christians to make a sally, 
 without being seen and intercepted. 
 
 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 founda 
 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 
 rains, 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 horsemen, 
 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 emergency, the 
 count displayed his noted talent for expedients. He ordered 
 a quantity of linen cloth to be stretched in front of the breach, 
 painted in imitation of stone, and indented with battlements, 
 so as at a distance to resemble the other parts of the wall : be 
 hind this scene he employed workmen, day and night, in re 
 pairing the fracture. No one was permitted to leave the for 
 tress, lest information of its defenceless plight should be carried 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 to the Moor. Light squadrons of the enemy were seen hovering 
 about the plain, but never approached near enough to discover 
 the deception; and thus, in the course of a few days, 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 desti- 
 tute 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 
 commander? He takes me a number of little morsels of paper, 
 on the which he inscribes various sums, large and small, ac 
 cording to the nature of the case, and signs me them with his 
 own- hand and name. These 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 amount thereon in 
 scribed, 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 word and 
 .trusting that he would be as willing to perform the one pro 
 mise as he certainly was able to perform the other, took those 
 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 
 onuses, like a loyal knight; and this miracle, as it appeared 
 in the eyes of Pray Antonio Agapida, is the first instance on 
 record of paper money, which has since inundated the civilized 
 world with unbounded opulence. 
 
CONQUEST OF (Ji KAN AD A. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 FORAY OF CHRISTIAN KNIGHTS INTO THE TERRITORY OF THE 
 
 MOORS. 
 
 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 horror and humiliation of their defeat. Nothing 
 would satisfy them but to undertake a second expedition of the 
 kind, to carry fire and sword throughout a wide part of the 
 Moorish territories, and to leave all those regions which had 
 triumphed in their disaster a black and burning monument of 
 their vengeance. Their wishes accorded with the policy f 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 Antiquera again 
 resounded with arms ; numbers of the same cavaliers who had 
 assembled there so gayly 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 they 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 Antiquera, many 
 of them the very flower of Spanish chivalry, troops of the 
 established military and religious orders, and of the Holy 
 Brotherhood. 
 
 Every precaution had been taken to furnish this army with 
 all things needful for its extensive and perilous inroad. Nu 
 merous surgeons accompanied it, who were to attend upon all 
 the sick and wounded, without charge, being paid for their 
 services by the queen. Isabella, also, in her considerate hu 
 manity, provided six spacious tents furnished with beds and 
 all things needful 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, vaunts this benignant provision of the 
 queen, as the first introduction of a regular camp hospital in 
 campaigning service. 
 
THE CON^UtiST OF Gil AN AD A. 115 
 
 Thus thoroughly prepared, the cavaliers issued forth from 
 Antiquera in splendid and terrible array, but with less exulting 
 confidence and vaunting ostentation than on their former foray ; 
 and this was the order of the army. Don Alonzo de Aguilar 
 led the advance guard, accompanied by Don Diego Fernandez 
 de Cordova, the alcayde de los Donzeles, and Luis Fernandez 
 Puerto Carrero, count of Palma, with their household toops. 
 They were followed by Juan de Merlo, Juan de Almara, and 
 Carlos de Biezman, of the Holy Brotherhood, with the men-at- 
 arms of their captaincies. 
 
 The second battalion was commanded by the marques of 
 Cadiz and the Master of Santiago, with the cavaliers of San 
 tiago and the troops of the house of Ponce de Leon : with these 
 also went the senior commander of Calatrava and the knights 
 of that order, and various other cavaliers and their retainers. 
 
 The right wing of this second battalion was led by Gonsalvo 
 de Cordova, afterwards renowned as grand captain of Spain ; 
 the left wing, by Diego Lopez de Avila. They were accom 
 panied by several distinguished cavaliers, and certain captains 
 of the Holy Brotheuhood, with their men-at-arms. 
 
 The duke of Medina Sidonia and the count de Cabra com 
 manded the third battalion, with the troops of their respective, 
 houses. They were accompanied by other commanders of 
 note, with their forces. 
 
 The rear-guard was brought up by the senior commander 
 and knights of Alcantara, followed by the Andalusian chiv^ 
 airy from Xerez, Ecija, and Carmona. 
 
 Such was the army that issued forth from the gates of An 
 tiquera, on one of the most extensive talas, or devastating in 
 roads, that ever laid waste the kingdom of Granada. 
 
 The army entered the Moorish territory by the way of Alora, 
 destroying all the cornfields, vineyards, and orchards, antf 
 plantations of olives, round that city. It then proceeded 
 through the rich valleys and fertile uplands of Coin, Cazara- 
 bonela, Almexia, and Cartama ; and in ten days, all those f er 
 tile regions were a smoking and frightful desert. From hence 
 it pursued its slow and destructive course, like the stream of 
 lava of a volcano, through the regions of Papiana and Alhen 
 din, and so on to the vega of Malaga, laying waste the grove-; 
 of olives and almonds, and the fields of grain, and destroying 
 every green thing. The Moors of some of these places inter 
 ceded in vain for their groves and fields, offering to deliver 
 up their Christian captives. One part of the army blockaded 
 
116 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 the towns, while the other ravaged the surrounding country. 
 Sometimes the Moors sallied forth desperately to defend their 
 property, but were driven back to their gates with slaughter, 
 and their suburbs pillaged and burnt. It was an awful specta 
 cle at night to behold the volumes of black smoke mingled 
 with lurid flames that rose from the burning suburbs, and the 
 women 011 the walls of the town wringing their hands and 
 shrieking at the desolation of their dwellings. 
 
 The destroying army, on arriving at the sea-coast, found 
 vessels lying off shore laden with all kinds of provisions and 
 munitions for its use, which had been sent from Seville and 
 Xerez : it was thus enabled to continue its desolating career. 
 Advancing to the neighborhood of Malaga, it was bravely as 
 sailed by the Moors of that city, and there was severe skirmish 
 ing for a whole day ; but while the main part of the army en 
 countered the enemy, the rest ravaged the whole vega and de 
 stroyed 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 moun 
 tains. They passed by Coin, and through the regions of Alla- 
 zayna, and Gatero, and Alhaurin; all which were likewise 
 desolated. In this way did they make the circuit 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 
 howling 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 returned in triumph to 
 the meadows of Antiquera. 
 
 In the month of June, king Ferdinand took command in per 
 son of this destructive army ; he increased its force, and added 
 to its means of mischief several lombards and other heavy ar 
 tillery, intended for the battering of towns, and managed by 
 engineers from France and Germany. With these, the marques 
 of Cadiz 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, depending for security 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. 
 
Tim COXQUKST OP GRANADA, 117 
 
 It was strongly posted on a rock washed by a river. The 
 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 tumbling of the walls terrified the women, 
 who beset the alcayde with vociferous supplications to sur 
 render. The place was given up on the 20th of June, on con 
 dition 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 be 
 sieged 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 marques of Cadiz for having counselled the king to at 
 tack this unconquerable place.* 
 
 On the same night that these reproaches were uttered, the 
 marques 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 Malaga, were rescued from the 
 dungeons of this fortress, and hailed the marques 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 bravery and perseverance in defend 
 ing 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 this war. 
 
 * Cur* de los Falacios. 
 
118 Tim CONQUEST OF QHANADA. 
 
 The last operation of this year, so disastrous to the Moors, 
 was an inroad by king Ferdinand, in the latter part of sum 
 mer, into the vega, in which he ravaged the country, burnt 
 two villages near to Granada, and destroyed the mills near the 
 very gates of the city. 
 
 Old Muley 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 misfortunes and 
 infirmity; he offered to purchase a peace, and to hold his 
 crown as a tributary vassal. Ferdinand would listen to no 
 propositions : the absolute conquest of Granada was the great 
 object of this war, and he was resolved never to rest con 
 tent 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 commanders 
 to render every assistance to the younger Moorish king, in the 
 civil war against his father. He then returned with his army 
 to Cordova, in great triumph, closing a series of ravaging cam 
 paigns, that had filled the kingdom of Granada with grief and 
 consternation. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 ATTEMPT OF EL ZAGAL TO SURPRISE BOABDIL IN ALMERIA. 
 
 DURING this year of sorrow and disaster to the Moors, the 
 younger king Boabdil, most truly called the unfortunate, held 
 a diminished and feeble court in the maritime city of Almeria. 
 He retained little more than the name of king, and was sup 
 ported in even this shadow of royalty, by the countenance 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 Alhambra. 
 
 His mother, the high-spirited sultana Ayxa la Horra, eiv 
 deavored 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 purpose. 
 Take the field, and you may drive danger before you ; remain 
 cowering at home, and it besieges you in your dwelling. By 
 
TEE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 119 
 
 a bold enterprise you may regain your splendid throne in 
 Granada; by passive forbearance, you will forfeit even this 
 miserable throne in Almeria." 
 
 Boabdil had not the force of soul to follow these courageous 
 counsels, and in a little time the evils his mother had predicted 
 fell upon him. 
 
 Old Muley Aben Hassan was almost extinguished by age and 
 infirmity. He had nearly lost his sight, and was completely 
 bedridden. His brother Abdallah, surnamed El Zagal, or the 
 valiant, the same who had assisted in the massacre of the 
 Spanish chivalry among the mountains of Malaga, was com- 
 mander-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 espousing his brother s 
 quarrel with his son; and he prosecuted it with such vehe 
 mence, that many affirmed there was something more than 
 mere 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 feelings 
 of the people of Almeria; and many had felt indignant that 
 Boabdil should remain passive at such a time, or rather, should 
 appear to make a common cause with the enemy. His uncle 
 Abdallah diligently fomented this feeling, by his agents. The 
 same arts were made use of, that had been successful in Gra 
 nada. Boabdil was secretly but actively denounced by the 
 alfaquis as an apostate, leagued with the Christians against his 
 country and his early faith ; the affections of the populace and 
 soldiery were gradually alienated from him, and a deep con 
 spiracy concerted for his destruction. 
 
 In the 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 thrown 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. El 
 Zagal rushed through the apartments of the Alcazar, but he 
 sought in vain for Boabdil. He found the sultana Ayxa la 
 Horra in one of the saloons, with Ben Ahagete, a younger 
 brother of the monarch, a valiant Abencerrage, 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 ven- 
 
120 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 geance on thy treason." The rage of El Zagal was without 
 bounds, when he learnt that his intended victim had escaped. 
 In his fury he slew the prince Ben Ahagete, and his followers 
 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. 
 
 The unfortunate Boabdil had been apprised of his danger by 
 a faithful soldier, just in time to make his escape. Throwing 
 himself on one of the fleetest horses in 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 Za 
 gal, 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? Every fortress and castle in the kingdom of Granada 
 was closed against him ; he 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 hereditary enemies. With a heavy 
 heart, he turned his horse s head toward Cordova. He had to 
 lurk, like a fugitive, through a part of his own dominions ; nor 
 did he feel himself secure, until he had passed the frontier, and 
 beheld the mountain barrier of his country towering behind 
 him. Then it was that he became conscious of his humili 
 ating state a fugitive from his throne, 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 countenance, 
 and with a train of but forty followers. The sovereigns were 
 absent; but the cavaliers of Andalusia manifested that sym 
 pathy in the misfortunes of the monarch, that becomes men of- 
 lofty and chivalrous souls. They received him with great dis 
 tinction, attended him with the utmost courtesy, and he was 
 honorably entertained by the civil and military commanders 
 of that ancient city. 
 
 In the mean time, El Zagal put a new alcayde over Almeria, 
 to govern in the name of his brother; and, having strongly 
 garrisoned the place, he repaired to Malaga, where an attack 
 of the Christians was apprehended. The young monarch be 
 ing driven out of the land, and the old monarch blind and bed 
 ridden, El Zagal, at the head of the armies, was virtually the 
 
THE CONQUKST OF GRANADA. 121 
 
 sovereign of Granada. The people were 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. 
 
 HOW KING FERDINAND COMMENCED ANOTHER CAMPAIGN AGAINST 
 THE MOORS, AND HOW HE LAID SIEGE TO COIN AND CARTAMA. 
 
 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 thou 
 sand cavalry and twenty thousand infantry assembled at Cor 
 dova, early in the spring ; and the king took the iield on the 
 5th of April. It had been determined in secret council, to 
 attack the city of Malaga, that ancient and important sea-port, 
 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 
 Cartama, 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 terror to others: they shall be 
 loyal through force, if not through faith." The place was car 
 ried by storm: one hundred and eight of the principal inha 
 bitants were either put to the sword or hanged on the battle 
 ments; 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 marques 
 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 batteries opened upon both places at 
 
 * Pulgar, Garibay, Cura <}e los Palacios. 
 
122 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 confounded by the 
 tremendous uproar of the batteries, and the destruction of their 
 walls. In the mean time, the alarm-fires gathered together the 
 Moorish mountaineers of all the Serrania, who assembled in 
 great numbers in the city of Monda, about a league from Coin. 
 They made several attempts to enter the besieged town, but 
 in vain; they were each time intercepted and driven back 
 by the 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 Ronda, at 
 the head of his band of G-omeres. 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 Bexir, when he had 
 been obliged t o .steal back furtively to bis mountains, with the 
 loss of the bravest of his followers. He had ever since panted 
 for revenge. He now rode among the host of warriors, assem 
 bled 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 his head, rode forth 
 from the town, followed by the Gomeres. Many of the war 
 riors, 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 white banner, and made 
 an attack upon the Christian camp ; and in the confusion of 
 the moment, Hamet and his followers galloped into the gates. 
 This reinforcement animated the besieged, and Hamet ex 
 horted them to hold out obstinately in defence of life and 
 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 Fer 
 dinand, 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 suffi 
 cient, 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 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 come to succor him with my household troops: if my 
 people are ordered to any place, I am to go with them ; but if 
 I am to remain in the camp, my people must remain with me. 
 For the troops cannot serve without their commander, nor 
 their commander without his troops." 
 
 The reply of the high-spirited grandee perplexed the cautious 
 Ferdinand, who knew the jealous pride of his powerful nobles. 
 In the mean time, the people of the camp, having made all 
 preparations for the assault, were impatient to be led forward. 
 Upon this, Pero Ruyz de Alarcon put himself at their head, 
 and, seizing their maiitas, 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 square 
 of the town. Pero Ruyz de Alarcon thought the place was car 
 ried, 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 win 
 dows. They at length gave way, and retreated through the 
 breach. Pero Ruyz de Alarcon still maintained 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." He was presently surrounded by the Go 
 meres ; his companions fled for their lives ; the last they saw 
 of him, he was covered with wounds, but still fighting despe 
 rately for the fame of a good cavalier.* 
 
 The resistance of the inhabitants, though aided by the valor 
 of the Gomeres, was of no avail. The battering artillery 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 followers. 
 
 The capture of Coin was accompanied by that of Cartama : 
 the fortifications of the latter were repaired ana garrisoned ; 
 but Coin being too extensive to be defended by a moderate 
 
 Pulgar, part 3, cap. 42. 
 
124 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. < 
 
 force, its walls were demolished. The siege of these places 
 struck such terror into the surrounding country that the 
 Moors of many of the neighboring towns abandoned their 
 homes, and fled with such of their effects as they could carry 
 away; upon which the king gave orders to demolish 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 p\it all the fortifications, which were of 
 vast strength, into a state of defence ; and had sent orders to 
 the alcaydes of the mountain town, to hasten with their forces 
 to his assistance. 
 
 The 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 they might expect, if they attempted 
 to besiege the place. 
 
 When the skirmish was over, the marques 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 marques, who had secret intelligence from all 
 quarters, had received a letter from Juceph Xerife, a Moor of 
 Ronda, of Christian lineage, apprising him of the situation of 
 that important place and its garrison, which at that moment 
 laid it open to attack; and the marques was urgent with. the 
 king to seize upon this critical moment, and secure a place which 
 was one of the most powerful Moorish fortresses on the fron 
 tiers, and in the hands of Hamet el Zegri had been the scourge 
 of Andalusia. The good marques had another motive for his 
 advice, becoming of a true and loyal knight. In the deep 
 dungeons of Honda 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 marques. H$ 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 125 
 
 knew the importance of Honda, which was considered one of 
 the keys to the kingdom of Granada ; and he was disposed to 
 punish the inhabitants, for the aid they had rendered to the 
 garrison of Coin. The 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. 
 
 SIEGE OF RONDA. 
 
 THE bold Hamet el Zegri, the alcayde of Honda, 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 valor of his people. A 
 fierce and warlike populace was at his command ; his signal- 
 fires could summon all the warriors of the Serrania; his 
 Gomeres almost subsisted on the spoils of Andalusia ; and in 
 the rock on which his fortress was built, were hopeless dun 
 geons, filled with Christian captives, who had been carried off 
 by these war-hawks of the mountains. 
 
 Honda was considered as impregnable. It was situated in 
 the heart of 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 
 the rocks, of frightful depth, surrounded three parts of the 
 city; 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 the mountains, refreshed by constant streams, 
 abounding with grain and the most delicious fruits, and yield 
 ing 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 Honda, 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 pur 
 pose ; in the mean time, he meditated an expedition to whiclj 
 
126 THE CONQUEST OF OR AN AD A. 
 
 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 disgrace of his 
 defeat at the battle of Lopera. Apprehending no danger to his 
 mountain city, now that the storm of war had passed down 
 into the vega of Malaga, 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- 
 piilas or pasture lands, which formed 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 Hamet had passed by, 
 before any force could be assembled, and was only to be traced, 
 like a hurricane, by the devastation it had made. 
 
 Hamet regained in safety the Serrania de Ronda, exulting in 
 his successful inroad. The mountain glens were filled with 
 long droves of cattle and flocks of sheep, from the campiilas of 
 Medina Sidonia. There were mules, too, laden with tlie plun 
 der of the villages ; and every warrior had some costly spoil of 
 jewels, for his favorite mistress. 
 
 As the 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 caval- 
 gada. As he proceeded, the noise of the ordnance increased, 
 echoing from cliff to cliff. Spurring his horse up a craggy 
 height which commanded an extensive view, he beheld, to his 
 consternation, the country about Ronda white with the tents 
 of a besieging army. The royal standard, displayed before a 
 proud encampment, showed that Ferdinand himself was pre 
 sent ; while the incessant blaze and thunder of artillery, and 
 the volumes of overhanging smoke, told the work of destruc 
 tion 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 thorn- 
 selves bravely, trusting that Hamet and his 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 
 taken and plundered. Lombards and other heavy ordnance 
 
THE CONQUEST OP GRANADA. 127 
 
 were now levelled at the walls of the city, and stones and mis 
 siles of all kinds hurled into the streets. The rery rock on 
 which the city stood shook with the thunder of the artillery ; 
 and the Christian captives, deep within its dungeons, hailed 
 the sound as the promise of deliverance. 
 
 When Hamet el Zegri beheld 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 
 proceeded 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 rocks, and rushing suddenly upon the weakest part of the 
 camp, endeavored 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, from whence they defend 
 ed themselves by showering down darts and stones upon their 
 pursuers. 
 
 Hamet now lit alarm-fires above the heights : his standard 
 was joined by the neighboring mountaineers, and by troops 
 from Malaga. Thus reinforced, he made repeated assaults 
 upon the Christians, cutting off all stragglers from the camp. 
 AlThis 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 fastnesses of the mountains. 
 
 In the meanwhile, the distress of Ronda was hourly increas 
 ing. The marques of Cadiz, having possession of the suburbs, 
 was enabled to approach to the very foot of the perpendicular 
 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 great natural basin. A secret 
 mine led down from within the city to this fountain by several 
 hundred steps cut in the solid rock. From hence the city ob 
 tained its chief supply of water ; and these steps were deeply 
 worn by the weary feet of Christian captives, employed in 
 this painful labor. The marques of Cadiz discovered this sub 
 terranean passage, and directed his pioneers to countermine 
 in the side of the rock : they pierced to the shaft, and, stop 
 ping it up, deprived the city of the benefit of this precious 
 fountain. 
 
 While the brave marques 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 
 dungeons, far other were the feelings of the alcayde Hamet el 
 
128 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 Zegri. 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 chronicler 
 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 gunpowder, which, 
 when once on fire, were not to be extinguished, and which set 
 the houses in flames. Great was the horror of the inhabitants : 
 they knew not where to fly 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 pieces every thing they encountered. At night, the city 
 looked like a fiery furnace ; the cries and wailings of the wo 
 men 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 succor being at an end, the inhabitants 
 of Honda were compelled to capitulate. Ferdinand was easily 
 prevailed upon to grant them favorable terms. The place was 
 capable of longer resistance ; and he feared for the safety of 
 his camp, as the forces were daily augmenting on the moun 
 tains, and making frequent assaults. The inhabitants were 
 permitted to depart with their effects, either to Barbary or 
 elsewhere ; and those who chose to reside in Spain, had lands 
 assigned them, and were indulged in the practice of their 
 religion. 
 
 No sooner did the place surrender, than detachments were 
 sent to attack the Moors who hovered about the neighboring 
 mountains. Hamet el Zegri, however, did not remain to make 
 a fruitless battle. He gave up the game as lost, and retreated 
 with his Gomeres, filled with grief and rage, but trusting to 
 fortune to give him future vengeance. 
 
 The first care of the good marques of Cadiz, on entering 
 Honda, was to deliver his unfortunate companions in arms 
 from the dungeons of the fortress. What a difference in their 
 looks from the time when, flushed with health and hope, and 
 arrayed in military pomp, they had sallied forth upon the 
 mountain foray! Many of them were almost naked, with 
 irons at their ankles, and beards reaching to their waists. 
 Their meeting with the marques was joyful; yet it had the 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA, 129 
 
 look of grief, fior thoir 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 Christian traveller may regale his eyes with 
 the sight of then! 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 the true 
 faith, through the ministry of a young man who had been a 
 captive in Ronda. He was anxious to complete his good work 
 by marrying her. The queen consented to their pious wishes, 
 having first taken care that the young maiden should be pro 
 perly purified by the holy sacrament of baptism. 
 
 " Thus this pestilent nest of warfare and infidelity, the city 
 of Ronda," says the worthy Fray Antonio Agapida, " was con 
 verted to the true faith by the thunder of our artillery an 
 example which was soon followed by Casanbonela, Alarbella, 
 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 ZXXI. 
 
 HOW THE PEOPLE OF GRANADA INVITED EL ZAGAL TO THE 
 THRONE, AND HOW HE MARCHED TO THE CAPITAL. 
 
 THE people of Granada were a versatile, unsteady race, and 
 exceedingly given to make and unmake kings. They had, for 
 a long time, vacillated between old Muley Aben Hassan and 
 his son Boabdil el Chico, sometimes setting up the one, some 
 times the other, and sometimes both at once, according to the 
 pitch and pressure of external evils, They found, however, 
 
130 THE CONQUEST OF OR AN AD A. 
 
 that the evils still went on increasing, in defiance of every 
 change, and were at their wits end to devise some new com 
 bination or arrangement, by which an efficient government 
 might be wrought out of two bad kings. When the tidings 
 arrived of the fall of Ronda, and the consequent ruin of the 
 frontier, a tumultuous assemblage took place in one of the 
 public squares. As usual, the people attributed the misfor 
 tunes of the country to the faults of their rulers; for the 
 populace never imagine that any part of their miseries can 
 originate with themselves. A crafty alfaqui, named Alyme 
 Mazer, who had watched the current of their discontents, 
 rose and harangued them: "You have been choosing and 
 changing," said he, "between two monarch s and who and 
 what are they? Muley Aben Hassan, for one; a man worn 
 out by age and infirmities, unable to sally forth against the 
 foe, even when ravaging to the very gates of the city: and 
 Boabdil el Chico, for the other; an apostate, a traitor, a de 
 serter from his throne, a fugitive among the enemies of his 
 nation, a man fated to misfortune, and proverbially named 
 4 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 that it can be no other than your gen 
 eral, the invincible Abdallah, whose surname of El Zagal 
 has become a watch-word in battle, rousing the courage of 
 the faithful, and striking terror into the unbelievers." 
 
 The multitude received the words of the alfaqui with ac 
 clamations ; they were delighted with the idea of a third king 
 over Granada ; and Abdalla el Zagal being of the royal family, 
 and already in the virtual exercise of royal power, the measure 
 had nothing in it that appeared either rash or violent. A 
 deputation was therefore sent to El Zagal at Malaga, inviting 
 him to repair to Granada to receive the crown. 
 
 El Zagal expressed great surprise and repugnance, when the 
 mission was announced to him ; and nothing but his patriotic 
 zeal for the public safety, and his fraternal eagerness to relieve 
 the aged Aben Hassan from the cares of government, pre 
 vailed upon him to accept the offer. Leaving, therefore, 
 Rodovan Vanegas, one of the bravest Moorish generals, in 
 command of Malaga, he departed for Granada, attended by 
 three hundred trusty cavaliers. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA, 131 
 
 Old Muley Aben Hassan did not wait for the arrival of his 
 brother. Unable any longer to buffet with the storms of the 
 times, his only solicitude was to seek some safe and quiet har 
 bor of repose. In one of the deep valleys which indent the 
 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 limpid river Frio, and 
 abounded with fruits, with grain and 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 care was to take refuge 
 there himself; his third, that his sultana Zorayna, and their 
 two sons, should follow him. 
 
 In the mean time, Muley Abdallah el Zagal pursued his jour 
 ney towards the capital, attended by his three hundred cava 
 liers. The road from Malaga to Granada winds close by 
 Alhama, and is dominated by that lofty fortress. This had 
 been a most perilous pass for the Moors, during the time that 
 Alhama was commanded by the count de Tendilla : not a trav 
 eller could escape his eagle eye, and his garrison was ever 
 ready for a sally. The count de Tendilla, however, had been 
 relieved from this arduous post, and it had been given in 
 charge to Don G-utiere de Padilla, clavero, or treasurer of the 
 order of Calatrava; an easy, indulgent man, who had with 
 him three hundred gallant knights of his order, besides other 
 mercenary troops. The garrison had fallen off in discipline ; 
 the cavaliers were hardy in fight and daring in foray, but con 
 fident in themselves and negligent of proper precautions. 
 Just before the journey of El Zagal, a number of these cava 
 liers, with several soldiers of fortune of the garrison, in all 
 about one hundred and seventy men, had sallied forth to 
 harass the 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 the neighborhood of Alhama, he 
 recollected the ancient perils of the road, and sent light cerra- 
 dors in advance, to inspect each rock and ravine where a foe 
 might lurk in ambush. One of these scouts, overlooking a 
 narrow valley which opened upon the road, descried a troop of 
 horsemen on the banks of a little stream. They were dis 
 mounted, and had taken the bridles from their steeds, that 
 
132 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 they might crop the fresh grass on the banks of the river. 
 The horsemen were scattered about, some reposing in the 
 shades of rocks and trees, others gambling for the spoil they 
 had taken: not a sentinel was posted to keep guard; every 
 thing showed the perfect security of men who consider them 
 selves beyond the reach of danger. 
 
 These careless cavaliers were in fact the knights of Gala- 
 trava, with a part of their companions in arms, returning from 
 their foray. A part of their force had passed on with tho 
 cavalgada; ninety of the principal cavaliers had halted to re 
 fresh 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 entrance into Granada." 
 
 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. Their 
 defence was useless ; seventy-nine were slain, and the remain 
 ing eleven were taken prisoners. 
 
 A party of the Moors galloped in pursuit of the cavalgada : 
 they soon overtook it, winding slowly up a hill. The horse 
 men who convoyed it, perceiving the enemy at a distance, 
 made their escape, and left the spoil to be retaken by the 
 Moors. El 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 per 
 formed ; 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 armor and weapons of 
 their late owners, and led by as many mounted Moors : then 
 came seventy Moorish horsemen, with as many Christian 
 heads hanging at their saddle-bows : Muley Abdallah el Zagal 
 followed, surrounded by a number of distinguished cavaliers 
 splendidly attired ; and the pageant was closed by a long cav 
 algada of the flocks and herds, and other booty, recovered 
 from the Christians.* 
 
 * Zurita, lib. 20, c. 62. Mariana, Hist, de Espafia. Abarca, Anales de Aragon. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 133 
 
 The populace gazed with almost savage triumph at these 
 captive cavaliers and the gory heads of their companions, 
 knowing them to have been part of the formidable garrison of 
 Alhama, so long the scourge of Granada and the terror of the 
 vega. They hailed this petty triumph as an auspicious open 
 ing of the reign of their new monarch ; for several days, the 
 names of Muley Aben Hassan and Boabdil el Chico were never 
 mentioned but with contempt, and the whole city resounded 
 with the praises of El Zagal, or the valiant. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 HOW THE COUNT DE CABRA ATTEMPTED TO CAPTURE ANOTHER 
 KING, AND HOW HE FARED IN HIS ATTEMPT. 
 
 THE elevation of a bold and active veteran to the throne of 
 Granada, in place of its late bedridden king, made an impor 
 tant 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 an in 
 road 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 situated upon a high mountain, partly sur 
 rounded 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 monarchs of the feeble 
 state of the garrison, and gave it as his opinion, that, by a 
 secret and rapid expedition, the plaoe might be surprised. 
 King Ferdinand asked the advice of his counsellors. Some 
 cautioned him against the sanguine temperament of the count, 
 and his heedlessness of danger; Moclin, they observed, was 
 near to Granada, and might be promptly reinforced. The 
 opinion of the count, however, prevailed ; the king considering 
 
134 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 him almost infallible, in matters of border warfare, since hi<; 
 capture of Boabdil el Chico. 
 
 The king departed, therefore, from Cordova, and took post 
 at Alcala la Keal, for the purpose of being near to Moclin. 
 The queen, also, proceeded to Vacua, accompanied by her 
 children, prince Juan and the princess Isabella, and her great 
 counsellor in all matters, public and private, spiritual and tem 
 poral, 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 dreary 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 warrior castle 
 afforded, being the same that had formerly been occupied by 
 the royal captive Boabdil. 
 
 King Ferdinand had concerted a wary plan, to insure 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 car 
 dinal, 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 iii time to co-operate with the count de Cabra, so as to sur 
 round 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 crusade (says he) undertaken for the advancement of the 
 faith and the glory of the church, so was it always coun 
 tenanced and upheld by saintly men : for the victories of their 
 most Catholic majesties were not followed, like those of mere 
 worldly sovereigns, by erecting castles and towers, and ap 
 pointing alcaydes and garrisons ; but by the founding of con 
 vents and cathedrals, and the establishment of wealthy bishop 
 rics. Wherefore their majesties were always surrounded, 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 
 scruple, at times, to buckle on the cuirass over the cassock, 
 to exchange the crosier for the lance, and thus, with corporal 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 135 
 
 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 that winds 
 below Vaena, and so up the wild defiles of the mountains, 
 marching all night, and stopping only in the heat of the fol 
 lowing day, to repose under the shadowy cliffs of a deep 
 barranca, calculating to arrive at Moclin exactly in time to co 
 operate with the other forces. 
 
 The troops had scarcely stretched themselves on the earth to 
 take repose, when a scout arrived, bringing word 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 at 
 tack. This, however, was not the idea that presented itself to 
 the mind of the count de Cabra. He had captured one king 
 here was a fair opportunity to secure another. What a tri 
 umph, to lodge another captive monarch in his castle of 
 Vaena ! what a prisoner to deliver into the hands of his royal 
 mistress! Fired with the thoughts, the good count forgot 
 all the arrangements of the king ; or rather, blinded by former 
 success, he trusted every thing to courage and fortune, and 
 thought that, by one bold swoop, he might again bear off the 
 royal prize, and wear his laurels without competition.* His 
 only fear was that the Master of Calatrava, and the belliger 
 ent bishop, might come up in time to share the glory of the 
 victory ; so, ordering every one to horse, this hot-spirited cava 
 lier pushed on for Moclin, without allowing his troops the 
 necessary time for repose. 
 
 The evening closed, as the count arrived in the neighborhood 
 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 mountains 
 by the brief but tremendous torrents which prevail during the 
 autumnal rains. It was walled on each side by lofty and 
 almost perpendicular cliffs, but great masses of moonlight 
 were thrown into the bottom of the glen, glittering on the 
 armor of the shining squadrons, as they silently passed through 
 it. Suddenly the war-cry of the Moors rose in various parts 
 
 * Mariana, lib. 25, <;. 17, Abarca, Zurita, <&Q, 
 
136 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 of the valley; " El Zagal! El 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 light of the moon, every cliff glistening 
 with Moorish soldiery. The deadly shower fell thickly round 
 him, and the shining armor 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 arquebuss. 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 
 fatal valley. 
 
 The Moors, rushing down from the heights, pursued the re 
 treating Christians. The chase endured for a league, but it 
 was a league of rough and broken road, 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, com 
 prising numbers of the noblest warriors of Vaena and its 
 vicinity. Many of the Christians, disabled by wounds or ex 
 hausted by fatigue, turned aside and endeavored to conceal 
 themselves among rocks and thickets, but never more rejoined 
 their companions, being slain or captured by the Moors, or 
 perishing in their wretched retreats. f 
 
 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, arid, ordering the 
 trumpets to call off his men from the pursuit, returned in 
 great triumph to Moclin.* 
 
 Queen Isabella was at Vaena, awaiting with 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 watch-towers that 
 crowned the neighboring heights, in hopes of favorable signals. 
 The prince and princess, her children, were with her, and her 
 venerable counsellor, the grand cardinal. All shared in the 
 anxiety of the moment. At length couriers were seen riding 
 
 * Zurita, lib. 20, c. 4. Pulgar, Cronica. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 137 
 
 towards the town. They entered its gates, but before they 
 reached the castle, the nature of their tidings was known to 
 the queen, by the shrieks and wailings that rose from the 
 streets below. The messengers were soon followed by wounded 
 fugitives, hastening home to be relieved, or to die among their 
 friends and^ families. The whole town resounded with lamen 
 tations ; 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 wo which pre 
 sented itself on every side ; her maternal heart mourned over 
 the death of so many loyal subjects, 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 which this 
 success would impart to the Moors ; she feared also for the im 
 portant fortress of Alhama, the garrison of which had not been 
 reinforced since its foraging party had been cut off by this 
 same El Zagel. On every side the queen saw danger and dis 
 aster, and feared that a general reverse was about to attend 
 the Castilian arms. 
 
 The 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 conquerors ; 
 that the Moors were a warlike people, fortified in a rough and 
 mountainous country, where they never could be conquered 
 by her ancestors, and that in fact her armies had already, in 
 three years, taken more cities than those of any of her pre 
 decessors had been able to do in twelve. He concluded by 
 offering himself 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 undertake any other ex 
 pedition her majesty might command. The discreet words of 
 the cardinal soothed the spirit of the queen, who always looked 
 to him for consolation; and she soon recovered her usual 
 equanimity. 
 
 Some of the counsellors of Isabella, of that politic class .who 
 seek to rise by the faults of others, were loud in their censures 
 of the rashness of the count. The queen defended him, with 
 prompt generosity. " The enterprise," said she, "was rash, 
 but not more rash than that of Lucena, which was crowned 
 with success, and which we have all applauded as the height 
 of heroism. Had the count do C.ibra succeeded in capturing 
 
138 TEX CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 the uncle, as he did the nephew, who is there that would not 
 h:ive praised him to the skies?" 
 
 The magnanimous words of the queen put a stop to all in 
 vidious remarks in her presence ; but certain of the courtiers, 
 vlio had envied the count the glory gained by his former 
 ; -hievemeiits, continued to magnify, among themselves, his 
 present imprudence, and we are told by Fray Antonio Agapida, 
 that they sneeringly 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 precipita 
 tion of the counv, but forbore to express himself with severity, 
 for he knew tlnv value of that loyal and valiant cavalier.* He 
 held a council of war, to determine what course was to be pur 
 sued. Some of his cavaliers advised him to abandon the at 
 tempt upon Moclin, the place being strongly reinforced, and 
 the enemy inspirited by his recent victory. Certain old Span 
 ish hidalgos reminded him that he had but few Castilian troops 
 in his army, without which staunch soldiery his predecessors 
 never presumed to enter the Moorish territory ; while others 
 remonstrated that it would be beneath the dignity of a king to 
 retire from an enterprise, on account of the defeat of a single 
 cavalier and his retainers. In this way the king was dis 
 tracted by a multitude of counsellors, when fortunately a let 
 ter from the queen put an end to his perplexities. Proceed we, 
 in the next chapter, to relate what was the purport of that 
 letter. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 EXPEDITION AGAINST THE CASTLES OF CAMBIL AND ALBAHAB. 
 
 " 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 counsel." While 
 Ferdinand and his captains were confounding each other in 
 their deliberations at the Fountain of the King, a quiet but 
 deep little council of war was held in the state apartment of 
 
 * Abarca, Anales de Aragon. 
 
THE CONQUEST 07 GRANADA. ICQ 
 
 the old castle of Vaena, between qreen Isabella, the venerable 
 Pedro Gonzalez do Mendoza, grand 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 Yaena, full of a project for the employment of the 
 army, the advancement of the faith, and the benefit of his 
 own diocese. He knew that the actions of the king were in 
 fluenced 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, with the customary wisdom of his 
 cloth, to turn the ideas of the queen into the proper chan 
 nel; and this was the purport of the worthy bishop s sug 
 gestions. 
 
 The bishopric of Jaen had for a long time been harassed by 
 two Moorish castles, the scourge and terror of all that part of 
 the country. They were situated on the frontiers of the king 
 dom of Granada, about four leagues from Jaen, in a deep, nar 
 row, and rugged valley, surrounded by lofty mountains. 
 Through this valley runs the Rio Frio, (or Cold river,) in a 
 deep channel, worn between high precipitous banks. On each 
 side of the stream rise two vast rocks, nearly perpendicular, 
 within a stone s-throw of each other ; blocking up the gorge of 
 the valle} 7 . On the summits of these rocks stood the two for 
 midable castles, Cambil and Albahar, fortified with battle 
 ments 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 cas 
 tles, 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 Abencerrages, the 
 troops of the royal household, and others of the choicest chival 
 ry of Granada, made them their strong-holds, or posts of arms, 
 from whence to sally forth on those predatory and roving en 
 terprises which were the delight of the Moorish cavaliers. As 
 the wealthy bishopric of Jaen lay immediately at hand, it suf 
 fered more peculiarly from these marauders. They drove off the 
 fat beeves and the flocks of sheep from the pastures, and swept 
 
140 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 the laborers from the field ; they scoured the country to the 
 very gates of Jaen, so that the citizens could not venture from 
 their walls, without the risk of being borne off. captive to the 
 dungeons of these castles. 
 
 The worthy 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 thoughts 
 that the possessions of the church should thus be at the mercy 
 of a crew of infidels. It was the urgent counsel of the bishop, 
 therefore, that the military force, thus providentially assem 
 bled in the neighborhood, 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 de 
 clared that he had long meditated the policy of a measure of 
 the kind. Their united opinions found" favor with the queen, 
 and she dispatched 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 those castles. 
 
 The marques of Cadiz was accordingly sent in advance, 
 with two thousand horse, to keep a watch upon the garri 
 sons, 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 quar 
 ters to the city of Jaen, where she was received with mar 
 tial honors 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 mean time, the marques of Cadiz arrived in the val 
 ley, and completely shut up the Moors within their walls. 
 The castles were under *he command of Mahomet 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 sharp combats between 
 small parties and single knights; but the Moors were driven 
 back to their castles, and all attempts to send intelligence of 
 their situation to Granada, were frustrated by the vigilance 
 of the marques of Cadiz. 
 
 
TILE COXqUEST OF GRANADA. 14 j 
 
 At length the legions of the royal army came pouring, with 
 vaunting trumpet and fluttering banner, 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 neighboring 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 nar 
 row and 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, there 
 fore, as he saw their tents by day and their fires by night cov 
 ering the 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, ann the Christians remained inactive in their camp, he 
 noticed, one calm autumnal day, the sound of implements of 
 labor echoing among the mountains, and now and then the 
 crash of a, falling tree, or a thundering report, as if some rock 
 had been heaved from its bed and hurled into the vaUey. 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 battlements, 
 heard some crash echoing among the heights. The return of 
 day explained the mystery. Scarcely did the sun shine against 
 the summits of the mountains, than shouts burst from the cliffs 
 opposite to the castles, and were answered 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 
 
142 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 iron, clearing away every obstacle; while behind them slowly 
 moved along great teams of oxen, dragging heavy ordnance, 
 and all the munitions of battering artillery. 
 
 "What cannot women and priests effect, when they unite 
 in council?" exclaims again the worthy Antonio Agapida. Tho 
 queen had held another consultation with the grand cardinal 
 and the belligerent bishop of Jaen. It was clear that tlio 
 heavy ordnance could never be conveyed to the camp by the 
 regular road of the country ; and without battering artillery, 
 nothing could be effected. 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 un 
 dertaking extravagant and chimerical, with ordinary means ; 
 and, therefore, unlocked for by the enemy; but what could 
 not kings effect, who had treasures and armies at command? 
 
 The project struck the enterprising spirit of the queen. Six 
 thousand men, with pickaxes, crowbars, and every other nec 
 essary 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 rumored that El Zagal was about to 
 march with a mighty host to the relief of the castles. The 
 bustling bishop of Jaen acted as pioneer, to mark the route 
 and superintend the laborers; and the grand cardinal took 
 care that the work should never languish through lack of 
 means.* 
 
 "When kings 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, entirely and promptly van 
 ished. In little more than twelve days, this gigantic work 
 was effected, and the ordnance dragged to the camp, to the 
 great triumph of the Christians and confusion of the Moors, t 
 
 No sooner was the heavy artillery arrived, than it was 
 mounted, in all haste, upon the neighboring heights; Fran 
 cisco Ramirez de Madrid, the first engineer in Spain, superin 
 tended the batteries, and soon opened a destructive fire upon 
 the castles. 
 
 When the valiant alcayde, Mahomet Lentin, found his 
 
 * Zurita, Anales de Aragon, lib. 20, c. 61. Pulgar, part 3, cap. 51. t Idem. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 143 
 
 towers tumbling about him, and ids bravest men dashed from 
 the walls, without the power of inflicting a wound upon the 
 foe, his haughty spirit was greatly exasperated. Of what 
 avail," said he, bitterly, "is all the prowess of knighthood 
 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 Chris 
 tian 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 operation of great skill and excessive labor, 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 alcayde made 
 signal for a parley. The articles of capitulation were soon 
 arranged. The alcayde and his garrisons were permitted 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 garrisoned, and delivered 
 in charge to the city of Jaen. 
 
 The effects of this triumph were immediately apparent. 
 Quiet and security once more settled upon the bishopric. The 
 husbandmen tilled their fields in peace, the herds and flocks 
 fattened unmolested in the pastures, and the vineyards yielded 
 corpulent skinsful of rosy wine. The good bishop enjoyed, in 
 the gratitude of his people, the approbation of his conscience, 
 the increase of his revenues, and the abundance of his table, a 
 reward for all his toils and perils. "This glorious victory," 
 exclaims Fray Antonio Agapida, achieved by such extraor 
 dinary management and infinite labor, is a shining example of 
 what a bishop can effect, for the promotion of the faith and 
 the good of his diocese." 
 
144 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIV. 
 
 ENTERPRISE OF THE KNIGHTS OF CALATRAVA AGAINST ZALEA, 
 
 WHILE these events were taking place on the northern fron 
 tier of the kingdom of Granada, the important fortress of 
 Alhama was neglected, and its commander, Don Gutiere de 
 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, being obliged to abandon their cavalgada, and to fly, 
 pursued by a superior force : of the flower of their party, the 
 gallant knights of Calatrava, who had remained behind in the 
 valley, they knew nothing. A few days cleared up all the 
 mystery of their fate : tidings were brought that their bloody 
 heads had been borne in triumph into Granada by the fero 
 cious El Zagal. The surviving knights of Calatrava, who 
 formed a part of the garrison, burned to revenge the death of 
 their comrades, and to wipe out the stigma of this defeat ; but 
 the clavero had been rendered cautious by disaster, he re 
 sisted all their entreaties for a foray. His garrison was weak 
 ened by the loss of so many of its bravest men ; the vega was 
 patrolled by numerous and powerful squadrons, sent forth by 
 the warlike El Zagal ; above all, the movements of the garrison 
 were watched by the warriors of Zalea, a strong town, only 
 two leagues distant, on the road towards Loxa. This place 
 was a continual check upon Alhama when in its most powerful 
 state, placing ambuscades to entrap the Christian cavaliers in 
 the course of their sallies. Frequent and bloody skirmishes 
 had taken place, in consequence ; and the troops of Alhama, 
 when returning from their forays, had often to fight their way 
 back through the squadrons of Zalea. Thus surrounded by 
 dangers, Don Gutiere de Padilla restrained the eagerness of his 
 troops for a sally, knowing that any additional disaster might 
 be followed by the loss of Alhama. 
 
 In the meanwhile, provisions began to grow scarce; they 
 were unable to forage the country as usual for supplies, and 
 depended for relief upon the Castilian sovereigns. The defeat 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 145 
 
 of the count de Cabra filled the measure of their perplexities, 
 as it interrupted the intended reinforcements and supplies. To 
 such extremity were they reduced, that they we^e compelled 
 to kill some of their horses for provisions. 
 
 The worthy clavero, Don Gutiere de Padilla, was pondering 
 one day on this gloomy state of affairs, when a Moor was 
 brought before him who had surrendered himself at the gate 
 of Alhama, and claimed an audience. Don Gutiere was ac 
 customed to visits of the kind from renegade Moors, who 
 roamed the country as spies and adalides; but the counte 
 nance of this man was quite unknown to him. He had a box 
 strapped to his shoulders, containing divers articles of traffic, 
 and appeared to be one of those itinerant traders, who often 
 resorted to Alhama and the other garrison towns, under pre 
 text of vending trivial merchandise, such as amulets, perfumes, 
 and trinkets, but who often produced rich shawls, golden 
 chains and necklaces, and valuable gems and jewels. 
 
 The Moor requested a private conference with the clavero : 
 " I have a precious jewel," said he, "to dispose of." 
 
 " I want no jewels," replied Don Gutiere. 
 
 "For the sake of him who died on the cross, the great 
 prophet of your faith," said the Moor, solemnly, "refuse not 
 my request ; the jewel I speak of you alone can purchase, but 
 I can only treat about it in secret." 
 
 Don Gutiere perceived there was something hidden under 
 these mystic and figurative terms, in which the Moors were 
 often accustomed to talk. He motioned to his attendants to 
 retire. When they were alone, the Moor looked cautiously 
 round the apartment, and then, approaching close to the 
 knight, demanded in a low voice, What will you give me if 
 I deliver the fortress of Zalea into your hands?" 
 
 Don Gutiere looked with surprise at the humble individual 
 that made such a suggestion. 
 
 " What means have you," said he, " of effecting such a pro 
 position?" 
 
 " I have a brother in the garrison of Zalea," replied the 
 Moor, "who, for a proper compensation, would admit a body 
 of troops into the citadel." 
 
 Don Gutiere turned a scrutinizing eye upon the Moor. 
 " What right have I to believe," said he, "that thou wilt be 
 truer to me, than to those of thy blood and thy religion?" 
 
 "I renounce all ties to them, either of blood or religion," 
 replied the Moor; "my mother was a Christian captive; her 
 
146 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 country shall henceforth be my country, and her faith my 
 faith."* 
 
 The doubts of Don Gutiere were not dispelled by this profes 
 sion of mongrel Christianity. u Granting the sincerity of thy 
 conversion," said he, "art thou under no obligations of grati 
 tude or duty to the alcayde of the fortress thou wouldst be 
 tray?" 
 
 The eyes of the Moor flashed fire at the words ; he gnashed 
 his teeth with fury. " The alcayde," cried he, " is a dog! He 
 has deprived my brother of his just share of booty ; he has 
 robbed me of my merchandise, treated me worse than a Jew 
 when I murmured at his injustice, and ordered me to be thrust 
 forth ignominiously from his walls. May the curse of God fall 
 upon my head, if I rest content until I have full revenge !" 
 
 " Enough," said Don Gutiere: " I trust more to thy revenge 
 than thy religion." 
 
 The good clavero called a council of his officers. The 
 knights of Calatrava were unanimous for the enterprise zeal 
 ous to appease the manes of their slaughtered comrades. Don 
 Gutiere reminded them of the state of the garrison, enfeebled 
 by their late loss, and scarcely sufficient for the defence of the 
 walls. The cavaliers replied that there was no achievement 
 without risk, and that there would have been no great actions 
 recorded in history, had there not been daring spirits ready to 
 peril life to gain renown. 
 
 Don Gutiere yielded to the wishes of his knights, for to have 
 resisted any further might have drawn on him the imputation 
 of timidity : he ascertained by trusty spies that every thing in 
 Zalea remained in the usual state, and he made all the requisite 
 arrangements for the attack. 
 
 When the appointed night arrived, all the cavaliers were 
 anxious to engage in the enterprise ; but the individuals were 
 decided by lot. They set out, under the guidance of the Moor ; 
 and when they arrived in the vicinity of Zalea, they bound his 
 hands behind his back, and their leader pledged his knightly 
 word to strike him dead on the first sign of treachery. He 
 then bade him to lead the way. 
 
 It was near midnight, when they reached the walls of the 
 fortress. They passed silently along until they found them 
 selves below the citadel. Here their guide made a low and 
 preconcerted signal : it was answered from above, and a cord 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 147 
 
 let down from the wall. The knights attached to it a ladder, 
 which was drawn up and fastened. Gutiere Munoz was the 
 first that mounted, followed by Pedro de Alvanado, both brave 
 and hardy soldiers. A handful succeeded ; they were attacked 
 by a party of guards, but held them at bay until more of their 
 comrades ascended ; with their assistance, they gained posses 
 sion of a tower and part of the wall. The garrison, by this 
 time, was aroused ; but before they could reach the scene of 
 action, most of the cavaliers were within the battlements. A 
 bloody contest raged for about an hour several of the Chris 
 tians were slain, but many of the Moors ; at length the whole 
 citadel was carried, and the town submitted without resist 
 ance. 
 
 Thus did the gallant knights of Calatrava gain the strong 
 town of Zalea with scarcely any loss, and atone for the inglori 
 ous defeat of their companions by El Zagal. They found the 
 magazines of the place well stored with provisions, and were 
 enabled to carry a seasonable supply to their own famishing 
 garrison. 
 
 The tidings of this event reached the sovereigns, just after 
 the surrender of Cambil and Albahar. They were greatly re 
 joiced at this additional success of their arms, and immediately 
 sent strong reinforcements and ample supplies for both Alha 
 ma and Zalea. They then dismissed the army for the winter. 
 Ferdinand and Isabella retired to Alcala de Henares, where 
 the queen, on the 16th of December, 1485, gave birth to the 
 princess Catharine, afterwards wife of Henry VIII. of Eng 
 land. Thus prosperously terminated the checkered campaign 
 of this important year. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 DEATH OF MULEY ABEN HASSAN. 
 
 MULEY ABDALLAH EL ZAGAL had been received with great 
 acclamations at Granada, on his return from defeating the 
 count de Cabra. He had endeavored to turn his victory to the 
 greatest advantage, with his subjects; giving tilts and tour 
 naments, and other public festivities, in which the Moors de 
 lighted. The loss of the castles of Cambil and Albahar, and 
 of the fortress of Zalea, however, checked this sudden tide of 
 
148 THE CONQUEST OF GEANADA. 
 
 popularity; and some of the fickle populace began to doubt 
 whether they had not been rather precipitate in deposing his 
 brother, Muley Aben Hassan. 
 
 That superannuated monarch remained in his faithful town 
 of Almunecar, on the border of the Mediterranean, surrounded 
 by a few adherents, together with his wife Zorayna and his 
 children ; and he had all his treasures safe in his possession. 
 The fiery heart of the old king was almost burnt out, and all 
 his powers of doing either harm or good seemed at an end. 
 
 While in this passive and helpless state, his brother El Zagal 
 manifested a sudden anxiety for his health. He had him re 
 moved, with all tenderness and care, to Salobreila, another 
 fortress on the Mediterranean coast, famous for its pure and 
 salubrious air ; and the alcay de, who was a devoted adherent 
 of El Zagal, was charged to have especial care that nothing 
 was wanting to the comfort and solace of his brother. 
 
 Salobreila was a smalltown, situated on a lofty and rocky 
 hill, in the midst of a beautiful and fertile vega, shut up on 
 three sides by mountains, and opening on the fourth to the 
 Mediterranean. It was protected by strong walls and a power 
 ful castle, and, being deemed impregnable, was often used by 
 the Moorish kings as a place of deposit for their treasures. 
 They were accustomed also to assign it as a residence for such 
 of their sons and brothers as might endanger the security of 
 their reign. Here the princes lived, in luxurious repose : they 
 had delicious gardens, perfumed baths, a harem of beauties at 
 their command nothing was denied them but the liberty to 
 depart ; that alone was wanting to render this abode an earthly 
 paradise. 
 
 Such was the delightful place appointed by El Zagal for the 
 residence of his brother; but, notwithstanding its wonderful 
 salubrity, the old monarch had not been removed thither 
 many days before he expired. There was nothing extraordi 
 nary in his death : life with him had long been glimmering in 
 the socket, and for some time past he might rather have been 
 numbered with the dead than with the living. The public, 
 however, are fond of seeing things in a sinister and mysterious 
 point of view, and there were many dark surmises as to the 
 cause of this event. El Zagal acted in a manner to heighten 
 these suspicions: he caused the treasures of his deceased 
 brother to be packed on mules and brought to Granada, where 
 he took possession of them, to the exclusion of the children of 
 Aben Hassan. The sultana Zorayna and her two sons were 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 149 
 
 lodged in the Alhambra, in the tower of Cimares. This was 
 a residence in a palace but it had proved a royal prison to the 
 sultana Ayxa la Horra, and her youthful son Boabdil. There 
 the unhappy Zorayna had time to meditate upon the dis 
 appointment of all those ambitious schemes for herself and 
 children, for which she had stained her conscience with so 
 many crimes, and induced her cruel husband to imbrue his 
 hands in the blood of his other offspring. 
 
 The corpse of old Muley Aben Hassan was also brought to 
 Granada, not in a state becoming the remains of a once power 
 ful sovereign, but transported on a mule, like the corpse of the 
 poorest peasant. It received no honor or ceremonial from El 
 Zagal, and appears to have been interred obscurely, to prevent 
 any popular sensation; and it is recorded by an ancient and 
 faithful chronicler of the time, that the body of the old mon 
 arch was deposited by two Christian captives in his osario, or 
 charnel-house.* Such was the end of the turbulent Mulcy 
 Aben Hassan, who, after passing his life in constant contests 
 for empire, could scarce gain quiet admission into the corner 
 of a sepulchre. 
 
 No sooner were the populace well assured that old Muley 
 Aben Hassan was dead, and beyond recovery, than they all 
 began to extol his memory and deplore his loss. They ad 
 mitted that he had been fierce and cruel, but then he had 
 been brave; he had, to be sure, pulled this war upon their 
 heads, but he had likewise been crushed by it. In a word, he 
 was dead; and his death atoned for every fault; for a king, 
 recently dead, is generally either a hero or a saint. 
 
 In proportion as they ceased, to hate old Muley Aben Hassan, 
 they began to hate his brother El Zagal. The circumstances 
 of the old king s death, the eagerness to appropriate his trea 
 sures, the scandalous neglect of his corpse, and the imprison 
 ment of his sultana and children, all filled the public mind 
 with gloomy suspicions; and the epithet of Fratracide! was 
 sometimes substituted for that of El Zagal, in the low mur- 
 murings of the people. 
 
 As the public must always have some object to like as well 
 as to hate, there began once more to be an inquiry after their 
 fugitive king, Boabdil el Chico. That unfortunate monarch 
 was still at Cordova, existing on the cool courtesy and meagre 
 friendship of Ferdinand ; which had waned exceedingly, ever 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios, c. 77. 
 
150 THE CONQUEST OF GHANADA. 
 
 since Boabdil had ceased to have any influence in his late 
 dominions. The reviving interest expressed in his fate by the 
 Moorish public, and certain secret overtures made to him, once 
 more aroused the sympathy of Ferdinand: he immediately 
 advised Boabdil again to set up his standard within the fron 
 tiers of Granada, and furnished him with money and means 
 for the purpose. Boabdil advanced but a little way into his 
 late territories; he took up his post at Velez el Blanco, a 
 strong town on the confines of Murcia; there he established 
 the shadow of a court, and stood, as it were, with one foot 
 over the border, and ready to draw that back upon the least 
 alarm. His presence in the kingdom, however, and his as 
 sumption of royal state, gave life to his faction in Granada. 
 The inhabitants of the Albaycin, the poorest but most warlike 
 part of the populace, were generally in his favor: the more 
 rich, courtly, and aristocratical inhabitants of the quarter of 
 the Alhambra, rallied round what appeared to be the most 
 stable authority, and supported the throne of El Zagal. So it 
 is, in the admirable order of sublunary affairs: every thing 
 seeks its kind ; the rich befriend the rich, the powerful stand 
 by the powerful, the poor enjoy the patronage of the poor 
 and thus a universal harmony prevails. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 OF THE CHRISTIAN ARMY WHICH ASSEMBLED AT THE CITY OF 
 
 CORDOVA. 
 
 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 curfcain rises to the inspiring sound 
 of martial melody, and the whole stage glitters with the array 
 of warriors and the pomp of arms. The 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 Guadalquivir resounded with the shrill blast of 
 trumpet, and the impatient neighing of the war-horse. In this 
 splendid era of Spanish chivalry, there was a rivalship among 
 the nobles who most should distinguish himself by the splen- 
 
THE CONQUEST OF OR AN AD A. ]5l 
 
 dor of his appearance, and the number and equipments 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 displaying 
 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 armor. 
 
 Such was the state of Don Inigo Lopez de Mendoza, duke of 
 Inf antado ; who may be cited as a picture of a warlike noble of 
 those times. He brought with him five hundred men-at-arms 
 of his household, armed and mounted a la gineta and a la 
 guisa. The cavaliers who attended him were magnificently 
 armed and dressed. The housings of fifty of his horses were 
 of rich cloth, embroidered with gold ; and others were of bro 
 cade. The sumpter mules had housings of the same, with hal 
 ters of silk ; while the bridles, head-pieces, and all the harness 
 ing glittered with silver. 
 
 The camp equipage of these noble and luxurious warriors was 
 equally magnificent. Their tents were gay pavilions, of vari 
 ous colors, 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 stern 
 encounters of rugged and mountainous warfare. Sometimes 
 they passed through the streets of Cordova at night, in splen 
 did cavalcade, with great numbers of lighted torches, the rays 
 of which falling upon polished armor 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 them 
 selves in so holy a cause. There were several valiant cheva 
 liers 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 with 
 rich surtouts and panaches of feathers. These cavaliers, it is 
 said, eclipsed all others in the light festivities of the court: 
 
 * Pulgar, parts, cap. 41, 56. 
 
152 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 they were devoted to the fair, hut not after the solemn and 
 passionate manner of the Spanish lovers ; they were gay, gal 
 lant, and joyous in their amours, and captivated hy the vivacity 
 of their attacks. They were at first held in light estimation by 
 the grave and stately Spanish knights, until they made them 
 selves to be respected by their wonderful prowess in the field. 
 
 The most conspicuous of the volunteers, however, who ap 
 peared in Cordova on this occasion, was an English knight 
 of royal connection. This was the lord Scales, earl of Rivers, 
 brother 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 Richmond, 
 overcame Richard III. That decisive battle having left the 
 country at peace, the earl of Rivers, having conceived a pas 
 sion for warlike scenes, repaired to the Castilian court, to keep 
 his arms 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 yeoman, 
 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, with his accustomed accuracy and minute 
 ness. 
 
 "This cavalier," he observes, "was from the far island of 
 England, and brought with him a train of his vassals ; men who 
 had been hardened in certain civil wars which raged in their 
 country. They were a comely race of men, but too fair and 
 fresh for warriors, not having the sun-burnt warlike 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 country. 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 inflamn^ 
 ble Spanish pride ; they stood not much upon the pundonor, 
 the high punctilio, and rarely drew the stiletto in their dis> 
 putes ; but their pride was silent and contumelious. Though 
 from a remote and somewhat barbarous island, they believed 
 themselves the most perfect men upon earth, and magnified 
 their chieftain, the lord Scales, beyond the greatest of their 
 grandees. With all this, it must be said of them that they 
 were marvellous good men in the field, dexterous archers, and 
 
THE Co:\qUKST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 on fiercely to the fight, nor 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, but coveted 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 honored by the 
 king and queen, and found great favor 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 cava 
 liers of his country, who had enrolled themselves 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 English 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 affirms, were the flower 
 of Christian chivalry: being constantly in service, 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 
 endeavor to signalize themselves by any fiery vivacity, or des 
 perate 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 achievements in the field. 
 
 The gorgeous magnificence of the Spanish nobles found but 
 little favor in the eyes of the sovereigns. They saw that it 
 caused a competition in expense, ruinous to cavaliers of 
 
154 Tim CONQUEST, OF GRANADA. 
 
 moderate fortune ; and they feared that a softness and effemi 
 nacy might thus be introduced, incompatible with the stern 
 nature of the war. They signified their disapprobation to 
 several of the principal noblemen, and recommended a more 
 sober and soldierlike display while in actual service. 
 
 "These are rare troops for a tourney, my lord," said Ferdi 
 nand to the duke of Infantado, as he beheld his retainers 
 glittering in gold and embroidery; "but gold, though gor 
 geous, 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 gratifica 
 tion 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 odium. 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 Alhama, 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 his most powerful chivalry. 
 
 It was in the month of May, that the king sallied from 
 Cordova, at the head of his army. He had twelve thousand 
 cavalry and forty thousand foot-soldiers, armed with cross 
 bows, lances, and arquebusses. There were six thousand 
 pioneers, with hatchets, pickaxes, and crowbars, for level 
 ling roads. He took with him, also, a great train of lombards 
 and other heavy artillery, with a body of Germans skilled in 
 the service of ordnance and the art of battering walls. 
 
 It was a glorious spectacle (says Fray Antonio Agapida) to 
 behold this pompous 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 plumes; to see it slowly moving, with flash of 
 helm, and cuirass, and buckler, across the ancient bridge, 
 and reflected in the waters of the Guadalquivir, while the 
 
THE CONQUEST OF OR AN AD A. 155 
 
 neigh of steed and blast of trumpet vibrated in the air, and 
 resounded to the distant mountains. "But, above all," con 
 cludes the good father, with his accustomed zeal, "it was 
 triumphant to behold the standard of the faith every where 
 displayed, and to reilect 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. 
 
 HOW FRESH COMMOTIONS BROKE OUT IN GRANADA, AND HOW 
 THE PEOPLE UNDERTOOK TO ALLAY THEM. 
 
 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 
 gaining strength: the Albaycin and the Alhambra were 
 again arrayed against each other in deadly strife, and the 
 streets of unhappy Granada were daily dyed in the blood 
 of her children. In the midst of these dissensions, tidings 
 arrived of the formidable army assembling at Cordova. The 
 rival factions paused in their infatuated brawls, and were 
 roused to a temporary 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 El 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, surnamed El Santo, arose among them. This was the 
 same wild, melancholy man, who 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 Mountain. His appearance was more haggard than 
 ever; for the unheeded spirit of prophecy seemed to have 
 turned inwardly, and preyed upon his vitals. "Beware, 
 
156 THE CONQUEST OF OR AN AD A. 
 
 Moslems," exclaimed he, "of men who are eager to govern, 
 yet are unable to protect. Why slaughter each other for El 
 Chico or El Zagal? Let your kings renounce their contests, 
 unite for the salvation of Granada, or let them be deposed." 
 
 Hamet Aben Zarrax had long been revered as a saint he 
 was now considered an oracle. The old men and the nobles 
 immediately consulted together, how the two rival kings 
 might be brought to accord. They had tried most expe 
 dients : it was now determined to divide the kingdom between 
 them ; giving Granada, Malaga, Velez Malaga, Almeria, Almu- 
 necar, and their dependencies, to El Zagal and the residue to 
 Boabdil el Chico. Among the cities granted to the latter, 
 Loxa was particularly specified, with a condition that he 
 should immediately take command of it in person; for the 
 council thought the favor he enjoyed with the Castilian mon- 
 archs might avert the threatened attack. 
 
 El Zagal readily acceded to this arrangement ; he had been 
 hastily elevated to the throne by an ebullition of the people, 
 and might be as hastily cast down again. It sec?ired him one- 
 half of a kingdom to which he had no hereditary right, and he 
 trusted to force or fraud to gain the other half hereafter. The 
 wily old monarch even sent a deputation to his nephew, mak 
 ing a merit of offering him cheerfully the half which he had 
 thus been compelled to relinquish, and inviting him to enter 
 into an amicable coalition for the good of the country. 
 
 The heart of Boabdil shrunk from all connection with a 
 man who had sought his life, and whom he regarded as the 
 murderer of his kindred. He accepted one-half of the king 
 dom as an offer from the nation, not to be rejected by a prince 
 who scarcely held possession of the ground he stood on. He 
 asserted, nevertheless, his absolute right to the whole, and 
 only submitted to the partition out of anxiety for the present 
 good of his people. He assembled his handful of adherents, 
 and prepared to hasten to Loxa. As he mounted his horse to 
 depart, 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 mining 
 the earth beneath thy feet. Choose one of two things ; be a 
 sovereign or a slave thou canst not be both. " 
 
 Boabdil ruminated on these words; lie made many wise 
 resolutions, but he was prone always to act from the impulse 
 of the momentj and was unfortunately given to temporize in 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 157 
 
 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, according 
 to their convention. He conjured him, therefore, to refrain 
 from any meditated attack, offering free passage to the Span 
 ish army to Malaga, or any other place under the dominion 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 
 war. 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, "thus 
 did this most sagacious sovereign act upon the text in the 
 eleventh chapter of the Evangelist St. Luke, that a kingdom 
 divided against itself cannot stand. He had induced these in 
 fidels to waste and destroy themselves by internal dissensions, 
 and finally cast forth the survivor ; while the Moorish mon- 
 archs, by their ruinous contests, made good the old Castilian 
 proverb in cases of civil war, El vencido vencido, y el venci- 
 dor perdido, (the conquered conquered, and the conqueror un 
 done.)"! 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXVIII. 
 
 HOW KING FERDINAND HELD A COUNCIL OF WAR, AT THE ROCK 
 OF THE LOVERS. 
 
 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 cliff called the Rock of 
 the Lovers. The quarters of each nobleman formed as it were 
 a separate little encampment ; his stately pavilion, surmount 
 ed by his fluttering pennon, rising above the surrounding tents 
 of his vassals and retainers. A little apart from the others, as 
 it were in proud reserve, was the encampment of the English 
 earl. It was sumptuous in its furniture, and complete in all 
 
 * Zurita, lib. 20, c. 68. t Garibay, lib. 40, c. 33. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 its munitions. Archers, and soldiers armed with battle-axes, 
 kept guard around it; while above, the 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 twilight : the gay chanson of the 
 Frenchman, singing of his amours on the pleasant banks of 
 the Loire, or the sunny regions of the Garonne ; the broad gut 
 tural tones of the German, chanting some doughty krieger lied, 
 or extolling the vintage of the Rhine ; the wild romance of the 
 Spaniard, reciting the achievements of the Cid, and many a 
 famous passage of the Moorish wars ; and the long and melan 
 choly 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 Avhole 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 as 
 sembled the principal commanders of the army, having been 
 summoned by Ferdinand to a council of war, on receiving 
 tidings that Boabdil had thrown himself into Loxa with a con 
 siderable reinforcement. After some consultation, it was de 
 termined to invest Loxa on both sides : one part of the army 
 should seize upon the dangerous but commanding height of 
 Santo Albohacen, in front of the city ; while the remainder, 
 making a circuit, should encamp on the opposite side. 
 
 No sooner was this resolved upon, than the marques of 
 Cadiz stood forth and claimed the post of danger in behalf of 
 himself and those cavaliers, his companions in arms, Avho 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 pitch their tents upon it, and to avenge the blood of 
 their valiant compeer, the Master of Calatrava, who had fallen 
 upon it, was due to their fame ; the marques demanded there 
 fore that they might lead the advance and secure that height, 
 engaging to hold the enemy employed until the main army 
 should take its position on the opposite side of the city. 
 
 King Ferdinand readily granted his permission ; upon which 
 the count de Cabra entreated to be admitted to a share of the 
 enterprise. He had always been accustomed to serve in the 
 advance ; and now that Boabdil was in the field, and a king 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. lf>9 
 
 was to be taken, he could not content himself with remaining 
 in the 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 an enterprise ot 
 danger in question, was hot to be admitted to the party; but 
 the king restrained his ardor. "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 peril 
 ous service." 
 
 The marques of Cadiz, and his companions in arms, struck 
 their tents before daybreak; they were five thousand horse 
 and twelve thousand foot, and marched rapidly along the de 
 files of the mountains; the cavaliers being anxious to strike 
 the blow, and get possession of the height of Albohacen, be 
 fore the king with the main army should arrive to their assis 
 tance. 
 
 The city of Loxa stands on a high hill, between two moun 
 tains, on the banks of the Xenel. To attain the height of Al 
 bohacen, the troops had to pass over a trat of rugged and 
 broken country, and a deep valley, intersected by those canals 
 and water-courses with which the Moors irrigated 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, endeavored to 
 push across this valley, in defiance of every obstacle: he, in 
 consequence, soon became entangled 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 
 pontoons; while the marques of Cadiz, Don Alonzo de Aguilar, 
 and the count de Ureiia, being more experienced in the ground 
 from their former campaign, made a circuit round the bottom 
 of the height, and, winding up it, began to display their squa 
 drons and elevate their banners on the redoubtable post, 
 which, in the former siege, they had been compelled so reluc 
 tantly to abandon. 
 
160 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 HOW THE ROYAL ARMY APPEARED BEFORE THE CITY OF LOXA, 
 AND HOW IT WAS RECEIVED ; AND OF THE DOUGHTY ACHIEVE 
 MENTS OF THE ENGLISH EARL. 
 
 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 glitter 
 ing upon the height of Albohacen, and by the clamors 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 deci 
 sion. When he had once made up his mind, he acted vigor 
 ously ; the misfortune was, he either did not make it up at all, 
 or he made it up too late. He who decides tardily generally 
 acts rashly, endeavoring to make up by hurry of action for 
 slowness of deliberation. Boabdil hastily buckled on his 
 armor, and sallied forth, surrounded by his guards, and at the 
 head of five hundred horse and four thousand foot, the flower 
 of his army. Some he detached to skirmish with the Chris 
 tians who were scattered and perplexed 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 Albohacen, 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 ove* 
 the bridge. He recognized Boabdil himself, by his splendid 
 armor, the magnificent caparison of his steed, and the brilliant 
 guard which surrounded him. The royal host swept on to 
 ward the height of Albohacen : an intervening hill hid it from 
 his sight; but loud shouts and cries, the din of drums and 
 trumpets, and the reports of arquebusses, gave note that the 
 battle had begun. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 161 
 
 Here was a royal prize in the field" and the count de Cabra 
 unable to get into 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 difficulties. At length, 
 after many eager but ineffectual efforts, he was obliged to 
 order his troops to dismount, and slowly and carefully to lead 
 their horses back, along slippery paths, and amid plashes of 
 mire and water, where often there was scarce a foothold. The 
 good count groaned in spirit, and 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 
 toilfully unravelled the mazes of the valley, and arrived at 
 firmer ground, he ordered his troops to mount, and led them 
 full gallop to the height. Part of the good count s wishes were 
 satisfied, but the dearest were disappointed : 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 valor, 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 valor, and bore him, bleeding, out of the action. 
 The count de Cabra arrived just in time to see the loyal squa 
 dron crossing the bridge, and slowly conveying their disabled 
 monarch towards the gate of the city. 
 
 The departure of Boabdil made no difference in the fury of 
 the battle. 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 Hamet el 
 Zegri, the fierce alcayde of Eonda, with 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 marques 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. The 
 count de Ureiia took his stand upon the fatal spot where his 
 brother had fallen; his followers entered with zeal into the 
 feelings of their commander, and heaps of the enemy sunk 
 beneath their weapons 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 honors staked to maintain it. Fresh 
 
162 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 supplies of troops were poured out of the city ; some battled on 
 the height, while some attacked the Christians who were still 
 in the valley and among the orchards and gardens, to prevent 
 their uniting their forces. The troops in the valley were 
 gradually driven back, and the whole host of the Moors swept 
 around the height of Albohacen. The situation of the marques 
 de Cadiz and his companions was perilous in the extreme: 
 they were a mere handful ; and, while they were fighting hand 
 to hand with the Moors who assailed the height, they were 
 galled from a distance by the cross-bows and arquebusses of a 
 host that augmented each moment in number. At this critical 
 juncture, king Ferdinand emerged from the mountains with 
 the main body of the army, and advanced to an eminence com 
 manding a full view 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 warfare. He looked 
 with eager interest at the chance medley fight before him, 
 where there was the wild career of cavalry, the irregular and 
 tumultuous rush of infantry, and where Christian helm and 
 Moorish turban were intermingled in deadly struggle. The 
 high blood of the English knight mounted at the sight, and his 
 soul was stirred within him, by the confused war-cries, the 
 clangor of drums and trumpets, and the reports of arquebusses, 
 that came echoing up the mountains. Seeing that the king 
 was sending a reinforcement to the field, he entreated permis 
 sion to mingle in the affray, and fight according to the fashion 
 of his country. His request being granted, he alighted from 
 his steed : he was merely armed en bianco, that is to say, with 
 morion, back-piece, and breast-plate ; his sword was girded by 
 his side, and in his hand he wielded a powerful battle-axe. 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 English 
 yew-tree. The earl turned to his troops, and addressed them 
 briefly and bluntly, according to the manner of his country. 
 "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 honor of merry old England !" A 
 loud shout was the reply. The earl waved his battle-axe over 
 his head: "St. George for England!" cried he; and to the in 
 spiring sound of this old English war-cry, he and his followers 
 rushed down to the battle with manly and courageous heart. * 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 They soon made their way into the midst of the enemy ; but 
 when engaged in the hottest of the fight, they made no shouts 
 or outcries. They pressed steadily forward, dealing their 
 blows to right and left, hewing down the Moors, and cutting 
 their way, with their battle-axes, like woodmen in a forest; 
 while the archers, pressing into tjie opening they made, plied 
 their bows vigorously, and spread death on every side. 
 
 When the Castilian mountaineers beheld the valor of the 
 English yeomanry, they would not be outdone in hardihood. 
 They could not vie with them in weight or bulk, but for vigor 
 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 Englishmen. 
 
 The Moors were confounded by the fury of these assaults, 
 and disheartened by the loss of Hemet el Zegri, who was car 
 ried 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 Fer 
 dinand came up to the scene of action with his royal guard, 
 and the infidels were driven within the city walls. Thus were 
 the suburbs gained by the hardihood of the English lord, with 
 out such an event having been premeditated.* 
 
 The earl of Rivers, notwithstanding he had received a 
 wound, still urged forward 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 sense 
 less 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 many of their inhabitants had died in the de 
 fence of their thresholds, or been slaughtered without resist 
 ance. 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 await the foe here ; for better is it to die quickly 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios. MS. 
 
164 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 by the steel, than to perish piecemeal in chains and dun 
 geons." 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 proceeded 
 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 : the marques of Cadiz 
 and his brave companions once more pitched their tents upon 
 the heights of Santo Albohacen : but the English earl planted 
 his standard sturdily within the suburb he had taken. 
 
 CHAPTEE XL. 
 
 CONCLUSION OF THE SIEGE OF LOXA. 
 
 HAVING possession of the heights of Albohacen and the 
 suburb of the city, the Christians were enabled to choose the 
 most favorable situations for their batteries. They imme 
 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. Through the openings thus 
 made, they could behold the interior of the city houses 
 tumbling or in flames men, women, and children, flying in 
 terror through the streets, and slaughtered by the shower of 
 missiles, sent through the openings from smaller artillery, and 
 from cross-blows and arquebusses. 
 
 The Moors attempted to repair the breaches, but fresh dis 
 charges 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, scimitars, and 
 
 * Pulgar, part 3, c. 58. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 165 
 
 poniards, seeking to destroy rather than defend, and heedless 
 of death, in the confidence that to die fighting with an un 
 believer, was to be translated at once to paradise. 
 
 For two nights and a day this awful scene continued ; when 
 certain of the principal inhabitants began to reflect upon the 
 hopelessness of the conflict: their king was disabled, their 
 principal captains were either killed or wounded, their fortifi 
 cations little better than heaps of ruins. They had urged the 
 unfortunate Boabdil to the conflict ; they now clamored for a 
 capitulation. A parley was procured from the Christian mon 
 arch, 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 could take with them. The marques of Cadiz, on whose 
 honor 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 Cuadix was to be assigned to 
 him, and the territory thereto annexed, provided it should be 
 recovered from El Zagal within 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 Ali Atar. The 
 warriors of Loxa then issued forth, humbled and dejected at 
 having to surrender those walls which they had so long main 
 tained with valor 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 El Zogoybi, the 
 unlucky. Accustomed, as he was, to be crowned and un 
 crowned, to be ransomed and treated as a matter of bargain, 
 he had acceded of course to the capitulation. He was en 
 feebled by his wounds, 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 valor he had dis 
 played had caused a sympathy for him among many of the 
 Christian cavaliers. He knelt to Ferdinand according to the 
 forms of vassalage, and then departed, in melancholy mood, 
 for Priego, a town about three leagues distant. 
 
166 TllK CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 Ferdinand immediately ordered Loxa to be repaired, and 
 strongly garrisoned. He was greatly elated at the capture of 
 this place, in consequence of his former defeat before its walls. 
 He passed great encomiums upon the commanders who had 
 distinguished themselves; and historians dwell particularly 
 upon Ms visit to the tent of the English earl. His majesty 
 consoled him for the loss of his teeth, by the consideration that 
 he might otherwise have lost them by natural decay ; whereas 
 the lack of them would now be esteemed a beauty, rather than 
 a defect, serving as a trophy of the glorious cause in which he 
 had been engaged. 
 
 The earl replied, that he gave thanks to God and to the holy 
 virgin, for being thus honored by a visit from the most potent 
 king in Christendom ; that he accepted with all gratitude his 
 gracious consolation for the loss of his teeth, 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 should have been made by a native of an island so far 
 distant from Castile." 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 CAPTURE OF ILLORA. 
 
 KING FERDINAND followed up his victory at Loxa, by laying 
 siege to the strong town of Illora. This redoubtable fortress 
 was perched upon a high rock, in the midst of a spacious val 
 ley. 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 co defend his for 
 tress to the last extremity. He sent the women and children, 
 the aged and infirm, to the metropolis. He placed barricades 
 in the suburbs, opened doors of communication from house to 
 house, and pierced their walls with loop-holes for the discharge 
 of cross-bows, arquebusses, and other missiles. 
 
 King Ferdinand arrived before the place, with all his forces ; 
 he stationed himself upon the hill of Encinilla, and distributed 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 167 
 
 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 the en 
 campments to be fortified with trenches and pallisadoes, the 
 guards to be doubled, and sentinels to be placed in all the 
 watch-towers 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 dis 
 prove the royal insinuation made against the hardihood of his 
 embroidered chivalry. Kind Ferdinand granted his demand, 
 with a becoming compliment to his spirit; he ordered the 
 count de Cabra to make a simultaneous attack upon a differ 
 ent quarter. Both chiefs led forth their troops ; those of the 
 duke in fresh and brilliant armor, richly ornamented, and as 
 yet uninjured by the service of the field ; those of the count 
 were weatherbeaten veterans, whose armor was dented and 
 hacked in many a hard-fought battle. The youthful duke 
 blushed at the contrast. "Cavaliers," cried he, u we have 
 been reproached with the finery of our array: 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 affray 
 knights well accoutred, so we shall leave it cavaliers well 
 proved." His men responded by eager acclamations, 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 se 
 vere conflict, they succeeded in driving the Moors into the 
 town, about the same time that the other suburb was car 
 ried 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 huge lombards, were opened upon the fortress. 
 The damage and havoc 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 -esolved to 
 
168 THE COX QUEST OF G HAN AD A. 
 
 defend the place until the last extremity ; he beheld it a heap 
 of rubbish ; there was no prospect of aid from Granada ; his 
 people had lost all spirit to fight, and were vociferous for a 
 surrender ; with a reluctant heart, he capitulated. The inhabi 
 tants were permitted to depart with all their effects, excepting 
 their arms ; and were escorted in safety by the duke del In- 
 fantado and the count de 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, Gonsalvo de Cordova, 
 younger brother of Don Alonzo de Aguilar. This gallant ca 
 valier was captain of the royal guards of Ferdinand and Isa 
 bella, and gave already proofs of that prowess which after 
 wards rendered him so renowned. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 OF THE ARRIVAL OF QUEEN ISABELLA AT THE CAMP BEFORE 
 MOCLIN; AND OF THE PLEASANT SAYINGS OF THE ENGLISH 
 EARL. 
 
 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 characterized it ; yet we find him on one 
 occasion pausing in the full career of victory over the infidels, 
 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. v 
 
 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 Rock of the 
 
THE CONQUEST OF OR AN AD A. K>9 
 
 Lovers, on the banks of the river Yeguas, they beheld a splen 
 did train of knights advancing to meet them. It was headed 
 by that accomplished .cavalier the marques duke de Cadiz, ac 
 companied by the adelantado of Andalusia. He had left the 
 camp the day after the capture of Illora, and advanced thus 
 far to receive the queen and escort her over the borders. The 
 queen received the marques with distinguished honor ; for he 
 was esteemed the mirror of chivalry. His actions in this war 
 had become the theme of every tongue, 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 along the pleasant 
 banks of the Xenel, so lately subject to the scourings of the 
 Moors. She stopped at Loxa, where she administered aid and 
 consolation to the wounded, distributing 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 besieging it. 
 Thither the queen proceeded, still escorted through the moun 
 tain roads by the marques 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 city ; 
 and the Prior of St. Juan, with his followers. They arrayed 
 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 chestnut 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 regal skirt of velvet, under which 
 were others of brocade ; a scarlet mantle, ornamented in the 
 Moresco fashion; and a black hat, embroidered round the 
 crown and brim. 
 
 The Infanta was likewise mounted on a chestnut mule, richly 
 caparisoned : she wore a brial or skirt of black brocade, and a 
 black mantle ornamented like that of the queen. 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios. 
 
170 THE CONQUKST OF GRANADA. 
 
 When the royal cavalcade passed by the chivalry of the duke 
 del Infantado, which was drawn out in battle array, the queen 
 made a reverence 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 demonstrations of 
 joy ; for she was 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 
 salutation as she passed. 
 
 The king now came forth in royal state, mounted on a superb 
 chestnut horse, and attended by many grandees of Castile. 
 He wore a jubon or close vest of crimson cloth, with cuisses or 
 short skirts of yellow satin, a loose cassock of brocade, a rich 
 Moorish scimitar, and a hat with plumes. The grandees who 
 attended him were arrayed with wonderful magnificence, each 
 according to his taste and invention. 
 
 These high and mighty princes (says Antonio Agapida) re 
 gard each other with great deference, as allied sovereigns, 
 rather than with connubial familiarity as mere husband and 
 wife. When they approached each other, therefore, before 
 embracing, they made three profound reverences; the queen 
 taking of? 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 em 
 braced 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 
 wiin tht, appearance of the sovereigns, than with that of the 
 EnglisL earl. He followed (says he) immediately after the 
 king, with great pomp, and, in an extraordinary manner, tak 
 ing precedence of all the rest. He was mounted " a la guisa, " 
 or with long stirrups, on a superb chestnut horse, with trap 
 pings of azure silk which reached to the ground. The housings 
 were of mulberry, powdered with stars of gold. He was armed 
 in proof, and wore over his armor a short French mantle of 
 black brocade; he had a white French hat with plumes, and 
 carried 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 caparisoned; he had also a 
 train of followers, bravely attired after the fashion of his 
 country. 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 171 
 
 He advanced in a chivalrous and courteous manner, making 
 his reverences first to the queen and Infanta, and afterwards 
 to the king. Queen Isabella received him graciously, compli 
 menting him on his courageous conduct at Loxa, and condoling 
 with him on the loss of his teeth. The earl, however, made 
 light of his disfiguring wound ; saying, that our blessed Lord, 
 who had built all that house, had opened a window there, that 
 he might see more readily what passed within:" * whereupon 
 the worthy Fray Antonio Agapida is more than ever astonished 
 at the pregnant wit of this island cavalier. The earl continued 
 some little distance by the side of the royal family, compli 
 menting them all with courteous speeches, his horse curvet 
 ting and caracoling, but being managed with great grace and 
 dexterity ; leaving the grandees and the people at large, not 
 more filled with admiration at the strangeness and magnifi 
 cence oi % his state", than at the excellence of his horseman 
 ship.! 
 
 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 nrany 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 glorious 
 pomp of the Catholic sovereigns, the worthy Antonio Agapida 
 returns with renewed relish to his pious work of discomfiting 
 the Moors. 
 
 The description of this royal pageant, and the particulars 
 concerning the English earl, thus given from the manuscript 
 of Fray Antonio Agapida, agree precisely with the chronicle of 
 Andres Bernaldes, the curate of los Palacios. The English 
 earl makes no further figure in this war. It appears from 
 various histories, that he returned in the course of the year to 
 England. In the following year, his passion for fighting took 
 him to the continent at the head of four hundred adventurers, 
 in aid of Francis, duke of Brittany, against Louis XI. of 
 France. He was killed in the same year [1 18SJ in the battle of 
 St. Alban s, between the Bretons and the French. 
 
 * Pietro Martyr, Epist 61. t Cura do los Palacios. 
 
172 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 HOW KING FERDINAND ATTACKED MOCLIN, AND OF THE STRANGE 
 EVENTS THAT ATTENDED ITS CAPTURE. 
 
 THE Catholic sovereigns, " says Fray Antonio Agapida, 
 had by this time closely clipped the right wing of the Moor 
 ish vulture." In other words, most of the strong fortresses 
 along the western f rontier of Granada had fallen beneath the 
 Christian artillery. The army now lay encamped before the 
 town of Moclin, on the frontier of Jaen, one of the most stub 
 born fortresses of the border. It stood on a high rocky hill, 
 the base of which was nearly girdled by a river : a thick forest 
 protected the back part of the town, towards the mountain. 
 Thus strongly situated, it domineered, with its frowning 
 battlements and massive towers, all the mountain passes into 
 that part of the country, and was called " the shield of Grana 
 da." It had a double arrear of blood to settle with the Chris 
 tians ; two hundred years before, a Master of Santiago and all 
 his cavaliers had been lanced by the Moors before its gates. 
 It had recently made terrible slaughter among the troops of 
 the good count de Cabra, in his precipitate attempt to entrap 
 the old Moorish monarch. The pride of Ferdinand had been 
 piqued by being obliged on that occasion to recede from his 
 plan, and abandon his concerted attack on the place ; he was 
 now prepared to take a full revenge. 
 
 El Zagal, the old warrior king of Granada, anticipating a 
 second attempt, had provided the place with ample ammuni 
 tions and provisions; had ordered trenches to be digged, and 
 additional bulwarks thrown up ; and caused all the old men, 
 the women, and the children, to be removed to the capital. 
 
 Such was the strength of the fortress, and the difficulties of 
 ifs position, that Ferdinand anticipated much trouble in reduc 
 ing it, and made every preparation for a regular siege. In the 
 centre of his camp were two great mounds, one of sacks of 
 flour, the other of grain, which \verc called the royal granary. 
 Three batteries of heavy ordnance were opened against the 
 citadel and principal towers, while smaller artillery, engines 
 for the discharge of missiles, arquebiisses and cross-bows, 
 were distributed in various places, to keep up a fire into 
 
THE CONQUEST Of Oil AN AD A. 173 
 
 any breaches that might be made, and upon those of the 
 garrison who should appear on the battlements. 
 
 The lombards soon made an impression on the works, 
 demolishing a part of the wall, and tumbling down several 
 of those haughty towers, which from their height had been 
 impregnable before the invention of gunpowder. The Moors 
 repaired their walls as well as they were able, and, still 
 confiding in the strength of their situation, kept up a reso 
 lute defence, firing down from their lofty battlements and 
 towers upon the Christian camp. For two nights and a day 
 an incessant fire was kept up, so that there was not a moment 
 in wlu ch the roaring of ordnance was not heard, or some 
 damage sustained by the Christians or the Moors. It was a 
 conflict, however, more of engineers and artillerists than of 
 gallant cavaliers; there was no sally of troops, or shock of 
 armed men, or rush and charge of cavalry. The knights stood 
 looking on with idle weapons, waiting until they should have 
 an opportunity of signalizing their prowess by scaling the 
 walls, or storming the breaches. As the place, however, 
 was assailable only in one part, there was every prospect 
 of a long and obstinate resistance. 
 
 The engineers, as usual, discharged not merely balls of 
 stone and iron, to demolish the walls, but flaming balls of 
 inextinguishable 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 gunpowder. The tower blew up, with a tremendous ex 
 plosion ; the Moors who were upon its battlements were hurled 
 into the air, and fell mangled 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 the 
 kind, ascribed the destruction of the tower to a miracle. 
 Some who had peen the descent of the flaming ball, imagined 
 that fire had fallen from heaven to punish them for their 
 pertinacity. The pious Agapida, himself, believes that this 
 fiery missive was conducted by divine agency to confound 
 the infidels; an opinion in which he is supported by other 
 Catholic historians.* 
 
 Seeing heaven and earth as it were combined against them, 
 
 * J tilgar, Garibay. Lucio Marino Siculo, Cosas Memoral. de Hispan. lib- **). 
 
174 Tim CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 the Moors lost all heart: they capitulated, and were permitted 
 to depart with their effects, leaving behind all arms and muni 
 tions of war. 
 
 The Catholic army (says Antonio Agapida) entered Moclin in 
 solemn state, not as a licentious host, intent upon plunder and 
 desolation, but as a band of Christian warriors, coming to 
 purify and regenerate the land. The standard of the cross, 
 that ensign of this holy crusade, was borne in the advance, 
 followed by the other banners of the army. Then came the 
 king and queen, at the head of a vast number of armed 
 cavaliers. They were accompanied by a band of priests and 
 friars, with the choir of the royal chapel, chanting the can 
 ticle " Te deum laudamus" As they were moving through 
 the streets in this solemn manner, every sound hushed except 
 ing the anthem of the choir, they suddenly heard, issuing as 
 it were from under ground, a chorus of voices chanting the 
 solemn response, Benedictum qui venit in nomine domini. " * 
 The procession paused in wonder. The sounds arose from 
 Christian captives, and among them several priests, who were 
 confined in subterraneous dungeons. 
 
 The heart of Isabella was greatly touched. She ordered the 
 captives to be drawn forth from their cells, and was still more 
 moved at beholding, by their wan, discolored, and emaciated 
 appearance, how much they had suffered. Their hair and 
 beards were overgrown and shagged; they were wasted by 
 hunger, half naked, and in chains. She ordered that they 
 should be clothed and cherished, and money furnished them 
 te bear them to their homes, t 
 
 Several of the captives were brave cavaliers, who had been 
 wounded and made prisoners, in the defeat of the count de 
 Cabra by El Zagal, in the preceding year. There were also 
 found other melancholy traces of that disastrous affair. On 
 visiting the narrow pass where the defeat had taken place, the 
 remains of several Christian warriors were found in thickets, 
 or hidden behind rocks, or in the clefts of the mountains. 
 These were some who had been struck from their horses, and 
 wounded too severely to fly. They had crawled away from 
 the scene of action, and concealed themselves to avoid falling 
 into the hands of the enemy, and had thus perished miserably 
 and alone. The remains of those of note were known by their 
 
 * Marino Siculo. 
 
 t Illescas, Hist. Fontif. lib. 5, c. 20, 1. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 175 
 
 armor and devices, and were mourned over by their com 
 panions who had shared the disasters of that day.* 
 
 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 the mosques of 
 Mocliii, which had been purified and consecrated to Christian 
 worship. " There," says Antonio Agapida, "rest the bones of 
 those truly Catholic knights, in the holy ground which in a 
 manner had been sanctified by their blood ; and all pilgrims 
 passing through those mountains offer up prayers and masses 
 for the repose of their souls." 
 
 The queen remained for some time at Moclin, administering 
 comfort to the wounded and the prisoners, bringing the 
 newly acquired territory into order, and founding 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 traces as the binder follows the reaper, gathering 
 and garnering the rich harvest that has fallen beneath his 
 sickle. In this she was greatly assisted by the counsels of that 
 cloud of bishops, friars, and other saintly men, which continu 
 ally surrounded her, garnering the first fruits of this infidel 
 land into the granaries of the church." Leaving her thus 
 piously employed, the king pursued his career of conquest, 
 determined to lay waste the vega, and carry fire and sword to 
 the very gates of Granada. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 HOW KING FERDINAND FORAGED THE VEGA; AND OF THE BAT 
 TLE OF THE BRIDGE OF PINOS, AND THE FATE OF THE TWO 
 MOORISH BROTHERS. 
 
 MULEY ABDALLAH EL ZAGAL 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 
 
 * Pi%ar, part 3, cap. 61, 
 
176 # CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 all confidence in his people. The Christian army marched in 
 open defiance through his territories, and sat down deliber 
 ately before his fortresses; yet he dared not lead forth his 
 legions to oppose them, lest the inhabitants of the Albaycin, 
 ever ripe for a revolt, should rise and shut the gates of Gra 
 nada against his return. 
 
 Every few days, some melancholy train entered the metro 
 polis, the inhabitants of some captured town, bearing the few 
 effects that had been spared them, and weeping and bewailing 
 the desolation of their homes. When the tidings arrived that 
 Illora and Moclin had fallen, the people were seized with con 
 sternation. "The right eye c>f Granada is extinguished," ex 
 claimed they; "the shield of Granada is broken: what shall 
 protect us from the inroad of the foe?" When the survivors 
 of the garrisons of those towns arrived, with downcast looks, 
 bearing the marks of battle, and destitute of arms and stan 
 dards, the populace reviled them in their wrath; but they 
 answered, " We fought as long as we had force to fight, or 
 walls to shelter us; but the Christians laid our towns and 
 battlements in ruins, and we looked in vain for aid from 
 Granada." 
 
 The alcaydes of Illora and Moclin were brothers ; they were 
 alike in prowess, and the bravest among the Moorish cheva 
 liers. 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. Yet now, when 
 they returned after the capture of their fortresses, they were 
 followed by the unsteady populace 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 trium 
 phant legions to lay waste the country about Granada. Still 
 El Zagal did not dare to take the field. The two alcaydes of 
 Illora and Moclin stood before him: " We have defended your 
 fortresses," said they, "until we were almost buried under 
 their ruins, and for our reward we receive scofSngs and revil- 
 ings; give us, O king, an opportunity where knightly valor 
 may signalize itself, not shut up behind stone walls, but in the 
 open conflict of the field. The enemy approaches to lay our 
 country desolate ; give us men to meet him in the advance, 
 
TITK CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 177 
 
 and let sharne light upon our heads if we be found wanting in 
 the battle!" 
 
 The two brothers were sent forth, with a large force of horse 
 and foot; El Zagal intended, should they be successful, to 
 issue forth 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 on with 
 stern countenances, for they knew the same voices would 
 curse them were they to return unfortunate. They cast a 
 farewell look upon fair Granada, and upon the beautiful fields 
 of their infancy, as if for these they were willing to lay down 
 their lives, but not for an ungrateful people. 
 
 The army of Ferdinand had arrived within two leagues of 
 Granada, at the Bridge of Pines, a pass famous in the wars of 
 the Moors and Christians for many a bloody conflict. It was 
 the pass by which the Castilian monarchs generally made 
 their inroads, and was capable of great defence, from the rug- 
 gedness of the country and the difficulty of the bridge. The 
 king, with the main body of the army, had attained the 
 brow of a hill, when they beheld the advance guard, under 
 the marques of Cadiz and the Master of Santiago, furiously 
 attacked by the enemy, in the vicinity of the bridge. 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 knew the importance of that pass. 
 
 The king particularly noted the prowess of two Moorish 
 cavaliers, alike in arms and devices, and whom by their bear 
 ing and attendance he perceived 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 Christians ; but they fought 
 with desperation, rather than valor. The count de Cabra, apd 
 his brother Don Martin de Cordova, pressed forward wit> 
 eagerness against them; but having advanced too precipi 
 tately, were surrounded by the foe, and in imminent danger, 
 A young Christian knight, seeing their peril, hastened with 
 his followers 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, illegitimate 
 brother of king Ferdinand. The splendid armor of Don Juan, 
 and the sumptuous caparison of his steed, rendered him a bril 
 liant object of attack. He was assailed on all sides, and his 
 
178 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 superb steed slain under him; yet still he fought valiantly, 
 bearing for a time the brunt of the fight, and giving the ex 
 hausted forces of the count de Cabra time to recover breath. 
 
 Seeing the peril of these troops and the general obstinacy of 
 the fight, the king ordered the royal 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 commanders endea 
 vored to rally their troops, and animate them to defend this 
 pass to the utmost: they used prayers, remonstrances, men 
 acesbut almost in vain. They could only collect a scanty 
 handful of cavaliers; with these they planted themselves at 
 the head of the bridge, and disputed it inch by inch. The 
 fight was hot and obstinate, for but few could contend hand 
 to hand, yet many discharged cross-bows and arquebusses 
 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 so 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 greatly their deaths, and extolled 
 their memory: a column was erected to their honor in the 
 vicinity of the bridge, which long went by the name of u tho 
 Tomb of the Brothers." 
 
 The army of .Ferdinand now marched on, and established its 
 camp in the vicinity of Granada. The worthy Agapida gives 
 many triumphant details of the ravages committed 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 in 
 effectual sallies and skirmishes of the Moors, in defence of their 
 favorite plain; among which, one deserves to be mentioned, a 
 it records the achievements of one of the saintly heroos of this 
 war. 
 
 During one of the movements of the Christian army, no.ii 1 
 the walls of Granada, a battalion of fifteen hundred cavalry, 
 and a largo force of foot, had sallied from the city, and posted 
 themselves near some gardens, which Avere 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 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 179 
 
 cavalry, armed a la gineta. In company with him, but follow 
 ing as a rear-guard, was Don Garcia Osorio, the belligerent 
 bishop of Jaen, attended by Francisco Bovadillo, the corregidor 
 of his city, and followed by two squadrons of men-at-arms, from 
 Jaen, Anduxar, Ubeda, and Baeza.* The success of last year s 
 campaign had given the good bishop an inclination for warlike 
 affairs, and he had once more buckled on his cuirass. 
 
 The Moors were much given to stratagem in warfare. They 
 looked wistfully at the magnificent squadrons of the duke del 
 Infantado; but their martial discipline precluded all attack: 
 the good bishop promised to be a more easy prey. Suffering 
 the duke and his troops to pass unmolested, they approached 
 the squadrons of the bishop, and, making a pretended attack, 
 skirmished slightly, and fled in apparent confusion. The 
 bishop considered the day his own, and, seconded by his cor 
 regidor Bovadillo, followed with valorous precipitation. The 
 Moors fled into the Huerta del Rey, or orchard of the king ; the 
 troops of the bishop followed hotly after them. 
 
 When the Moors perceived their pursuers fairly embarrassed 
 among the intricacies of the garden, they turned fiercely upon 
 them, while some of their number threw open the sluices of the 
 Xenel. 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, t A scene of great confusion suc 
 ceeded. Some of the men of Jaen, stoutest of heart and hand, 
 fought with the Moors in the garden, while others struggled 
 with the water, endeavoring to escape across the canal, in 
 which attempt many horses were drowned. 
 
 Fortunately, the duke del Infantado perceived the snare into 
 which his companions had fallen, and dispatched his light 
 cavalry to their assistance. The Moors were compelled to 
 flight, and driven along the road of Elvira up to the 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 saving himself by holding 
 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, in the fruition of all good things, he gradually waxed 
 too corpulent for his corselet, which was hung up in the hall of 
 
 * Pulgar. part 3, cap, 62. t Pulgar, $ Pulgar, 
 
180 THE CONQUEST OF GUANADA. 
 
 his episcopal palace; and we hear no more of lus military 
 deeds, throughout the residue of the holy war of Granada.* 
 
 King Ferdinand, having completed his ravage ot she vega, 
 and kept El Zagal shut up in his capital, conducted his army 
 back through the pass of Lope to rejoin queen Isabella at 
 Moclin. The fortresses lately taken being well garrisoned and 
 supplied, he gave the command of the frontier to his cousin, 
 Don Fadrique de Toledo, afterwards so famous in the Nether 
 lands as the duke of Alva. The campaign being thus com 
 pletely crowned with success, the sovereigns returned in tri 
 umph to the city of Cordova. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 ATTEMPT OF EL ZAGAL UPON THE LIFE OF BOABDIL, AND HOW 
 THE LATTER WAS ROUSED TO ACTON. 
 
 No sooner did the last squadron of Christian cavalry disap 
 pear behind the mountain of Elvira, and the note of its trum 
 pets die away upon the ear, than the long-suppressed wrath of 
 old Muley El Zagal burst forth. He determined no longer to 
 be half a king, reigning over a divided kingdom, in a divided 
 capital; but to exterminate, by any means, fair or foul, his 
 nephew Boabdil and his faction. He turned furiously upon 
 those whose factious conduct had deterred him from sallying 
 upon the foe; some he punished by confiscations, others by 
 banishment, others by death. Once undisputed monarch of 
 the entire kingdom, he trusted to his military skill to retrieve 
 his fortunes, 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, in case of 
 emergency, of any assistance or protection afforded him by the 
 policy of Ferdinand. His defeat had blighted his reviving for 
 tunes, for the people considered him as inevitably doomed to 
 misfortune. Still, while he lived, El Zagal knew he would be 
 a rallying point for faction, and liable at any moment to be 
 
 *"Don Luis Osorio fue obispo de Jaen desde el afio del 483, y presidio in esta 
 igrlesia hasta el de 1496 in que murlo en Flandes, a donde fue acompafiando a la 
 princesa Dona Juana, esposadel archiduque Don Felipe, "Espana 
 M. Risco, torn, 41, trot, 77, cap, 4, 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 131 
 
 elevated into power by the capricious multitude. He had 
 recourse, therefore, to the most perfidious means to compass 
 his destruction. He sent embassadors 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 he could live in 
 tranquil retirement. But while the embassadors bore 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 dispatch 
 him openly, while engaged in conversation. They were insti 
 gated to this treason by promises of great reward, and by as 
 surances from the alfaquis that Boabdil was an apostate, 
 whose death would be acceptable to Heaven. 
 
 The young monarch was secretly apprised of the concerted 
 treason, and refused an audience to the embassadors. He de 
 nounced his uncle as the murderer of his father and his kin 
 dred, and the usurper of his throne ; and vowed never to relent 
 in hostility to him, until he should place his head on the walls 
 of the Alhambra. 
 
 Open war again broke out between the two monarchs, though 
 feebly carried on, in consequence of their mutual embarrass 
 ments. 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 de Bonavides, who 
 commanded in Lorca, even made inroads in his name, into 
 the territories of Almeria, Baza, and Guadix, 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 was 
 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-starred banner, began to desert him ; for he had not where 
 withal to reward, or even to support them. His spirits sunk 
 with his fortune, and he feared that in a little time he should 
 not have a spot of earth whereon to plant his standard, nor 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 
 
182 THE CONQUEST OP GHANADA. 
 
 shame, " said she, "to linger timorously about the borders of 
 your kingdom, when a usurper is seated in your capital. Why 
 look abroad for perfidious aid, when you have loyal hearts 
 beating true to you in Granada ? The Albaycin 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 honorable medium. " 
 
 Boabdil was of an undecided character, but there are circum 
 stances which bring the most wavering to a decision, and when 
 once resolved they are apt to act with a daring impulse un 
 known to steadier judgments. The message of the sultana 
 roused him from a dream. Granada, beautiful Granada, with 
 its stately Alhambra, its delicious gardens, its gushing and 
 limpid fountains sparkling among groves of orange, citron, 
 and myrtle, rose before him. "What have I done," exclaimed 
 he, that I should be an exile from this paradise of my fore 
 fathers 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 scimitar. "Enough!" said he; "let 
 each man arm himself and prepare his steed in secret, for an 
 enterprise of toil and peril : if we succeed, our reward is em 
 pire." 
 
 [END OF VOL. ONE.] 
 
A CHRONICLE 
 
 OP 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA 
 
 VOLUME SECOND. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HOW BOABDIL RETURNED SECRETLY TO GRANADA, AND HOW HE 
 WAS RECEIVED. 
 
 "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 frontier 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. There were fifty lances. The richness of their 
 armor and attire showed them to be warriors of noble rank, 
 and their leader had a lofty and prince-like demeanor." The 
 squadron thus described by the Arabian 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 choos 
 ing the most solitary passes of the mountains. They suffered 
 severe hardships and fatigues, but they suffered without a 
 murmur : they were accustomed to rugged campaigning, 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 
 
184 TBB CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 his followers to halt, and remained concealed. Taking but four 
 or five with him, he advanced resolutely to the gate, and 
 knocked with the hilt of his scimitar. The guards demanded 
 who sought to enter at that unseasonable hour. " Your king !" 
 exclaimed Boabdil, "open the gate and admit him!" 
 
 The guards held forth a light, and recognized the person of 
 the, youthful monarch. They were struck with sudden awe, 
 and threw open the gates ; and Boabdil and his followers en 
 tered unmolested. They galloped to the dwellings of the prin 
 cipal inhabitants of the Albaycin, thundering at their portals, 
 and summoning them to rise and take arms for their rightful 
 sovereign. The summons was instantly obeyed: trumpets re 
 sounded throughout the streets the gleam of torches and the 
 flash of arms showed the Moors hurrying to their gathering 
 places and by daybreak, the whole force of the Albaycin was 
 rallied under the standard of Boabdil. Such was the success 
 of this sudden and desperate act of the young monarch ; for 
 we are assured by contemporary historians, that there had 
 been no previous concert or arrangement. "As the guards 
 opened the gates of the city to admit him," observes a pious 
 chronicler, " so God opened the hearts of the Moors to receive 
 him as their king." * 
 
 In the morning early, the tidings of this event roused El 
 Zagal from his slumbers in the Alhambra. The fiery old war 
 rior assembled his guard in haste, and made his way sword in 
 hand to the Albaycin, hoping to come upon his nephew by sur 
 prise. He was vigorously met by Boabdil and his adherents, 
 and driven back into the quarter of the Alhambra. An en 
 counter took place between the two kings, in the square before 
 the principal mosque ; here they fought hand to hand with im 
 placable fury, as though it had been agreed to decide their 
 competition for the crown by single combat. In the tumult 
 of this chance medley affray, however, they were separated, 
 and the party of El Zagal was ultimately driven from the 
 square. 
 
 The battle raged for some time in the streets and places of 
 the city, but finding their powers of mischief cramped within 
 such narrow limits, both parties sallied forth into the fields, and 
 fought beneath the walls until evening. Many fell on both 
 sides, and at night each party withdrew into its quarter, until 
 the morning gave them light to renew the unnatural conflict. 
 
 Pulgar. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 185 
 
 For several days, the two grand divisions of the city remained 
 like hostile powers arrayed against each other. The party of 
 the Alhambra was more numerous than that of the Albaycin, 
 and contained most of the nobility and chivalry ; but the ad 
 herents of Boabdil were men hardened and strengthened by 
 labor and habitually skilled in the exercise of arms. 
 
 The Albaycin underwent a kind of siege by the forces of El 
 Zagal ; they effected breaches in the walls, and made repeated 
 attempts to carry it sword in hand, but were as often repulsed. 
 The troops of Boabdil, on the other hand, made frequent sal 
 lies ; and in the conflicts which took place, the hatred of the 
 combatants arose to such a pitch of fury, that no quarter was 
 given on either side. 
 
 Boabdil perceived the inferiority of his force; he dreaded also 
 that his adherents, being for the most part tradesmen and arti 
 sans, would become impatient of this interruption of their gain 
 ful occupations, and disheartened by these continual scenes of 
 carnage. He sent missives, therefore, in all haste, to Don Fa- 
 drique de Toledo, who commanded the Christian forces on the 
 frontier, entreating his assistance. 
 
 Don Fadrique had received instructions 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 lest some treachery might be intended, he 
 stood for some time aloof, watching the movements of the par 
 ties. The furious and sanguinary nature of the conflicts which 
 distracted unhappy Granada, soon convinced him that there 
 was no collusion between the monarchs. He sent Boabdil, 
 therefore, a reinforcement of Christian foot-soldiers and arque- 
 busiers, under Fernan Alvarez de Sotomayer, alcayde of Colo- 
 mera. This was as a firebrand 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 II. 
 
 HOW KING FERDINAND LAID SIEGE TO VELEZ MALAGA. 
 
 HITHERTO, the events of this renowned war have been little 
 else than a succession of brilliant but brief exploits, such as 
 /sudden forays and wild skirmishes, among the mountains, or 
 
186 THE CONQUEST OF OR AN AD A. 
 
 the surprisaJs of castles, fortresses, and frontier towns. We 
 approach now to more important and prolonged operations, in 
 which ancient and mighty cities, the bulwarks of Granada, 
 were invested by powerful armies, subdued by slow and regu 
 lar sieges, and thus the capital left naked and alone. 
 
 The glorious triumphs of the Catholic sovereigns (says Fray 
 Antonio Agapida) had resounded throughout the east, and 
 filled all heathenesse with alarm. The Grand-Turk Bajazet II. 
 and his deadly foe, the grand soldan of Egypt, suspending for 
 time their bloody feuds, entered into a league to protect the 
 religion of Mahomet and the kingdom of Granada from the 
 hostilities of the Christians. It was concerted between them, 
 that Bajazet should send a powerful armada against the island 
 of Sicily, then appertaining to the Spanish crown, for the pur 
 pose of distracting the attention of the Castilian sovereigns; 
 while, at the same time, great bodies of troops should be 
 poured into Granada, from the opposite coast of Africa. 
 
 Ferdinand and Isabella received timely intelligence of these 
 designs. They resolved at once to carry the war into the sea 
 board of Granada, 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 attack : it was the 
 principal seaport of the kingdom, and almost necessary to its 
 existence. It had long been the seat of opulent commerce, 
 sending many 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, and 
 steeds, from Tunis, Tripoli, Fez, Tremezan, and other Barbary 
 powers. It was emphatically called, therefore, "the hand and 
 mouth of Granada." Before laying siege to this redoubtable 
 city, however, it was deemed necessary to secure the neigh 
 boring city of Velez Malaga and its dependent places, which 
 might otherwise harass the besieging army. 
 
 For this important campaign, the nobles of the kingdom were 
 again summoned to take the field with their forces, in the 
 spring of 1487. The menaced invasion of the infidel powers of 
 the east had awakened new ardor in the bosoms of all true 
 Christian knights ; and so zealously did they respond to the 
 summons of the sovereigns, that an army of twenty thousand 
 cavalry and fifty thousand foot, the flower of Spanish warriors, 
 led by the bravest of Spanish cavaliers, thronged the renowned 
 city of Cordova, at the appointed time. 
 
 On the night before this mighty host set forth upon its marsu, 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 187 
 
 an earthquake shook the city. The inhabitants, awakened by 
 the shaking of the walls and rocking of the towers, fled to the 
 courts and squares, fearing to be overwhelmed by the ruins of 
 their dwellings. The earthquake was most violent in the 
 quarter of the royal residence, the site of the ancient palace of 
 the Moorish kings. Many looked upon this as an omen of some 
 impending evil ; but Fray Antonio Agapida, in that infallible 
 spirit of divination which succeeds an event, plainly reads in 
 it a presage that the entire empire of the Moors was about to be 
 shaken to its centre. 
 
 It was on Saturday, the eve of the Sunday of Palms, (says a 
 worthy and loyal chronicler of the time,) that the most 
 Catholic monarch departed with his army, to render service 
 to Heaven, and make war upon the Moors.* Heavy rains had 
 swelled all the streams, and rendered the roads deep and diffi 
 cult. The king, therefore, divided his host into two bodies. 
 In one he put all the artillery, guarded by a strong body of 
 horse, and commanded by the Master of Alcantara and Martin 
 Alonzo, Senior of Montemayor. This division was to proceed 
 by the road through the valleys, where pasturage abounded 
 for the oxen which drew the ordnance. 
 
 The main body of the army was led by the king in person. 
 It was divided into numerous battalions, each commanded by 
 some distinguished 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 Donzeles, to 
 conquer, in some degree, the asperities of the road. Some had 
 pickaxes and crowbars to break the rocks, others had imple 
 ments to construct bridges over the mountain torrents, while 
 it was the duty of others to lay stepping-stones in the smaller 
 streams. As the country was inhabited by fierce Moorish 
 mountaineers, Don Diego de Castrillo was dispatched, with a 
 body of horse and foot, to take possession of the heights and 
 passes. Notwithstanding every precaution, the royal arnry 
 suffered excessively on its march. At one tiro, there was no 
 place to encamp, for five leagues of the most toilsome and 
 
 * Pulgar. Cronica de los 
 
18 THE CONQUEST OF 
 
 mountainous country ; and many of the beasts of burden sunk 
 down, and perished on the road. 
 
 It was with the greatest joy, therefore, that the royal army 
 emerged from these stern and frightful denies, and came to 
 where they looked down upon the vega of Velez Malaga. The 
 region before them was one of the most delectable to the 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 the Mediter 
 ranean. The sloping hills were covered with vineyards and 
 olive-trees; the distant fields waved with grain, or were ver 
 dant with pasturage; while around the city were delightful 
 gardens, the favorite retreats of the Moors, where their white 
 pavilions gleamed among groves of oranges, citrons, and 
 pomegranates, and 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 Velez 
 Malaga reared its warrior battlements in stern contrast to the 
 landscape. It was built on the declivity of a steep and insu 
 lated hill, and strongly fortified by wall 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 capped with clouds, 
 which rose to the north, were inhabited by a hardy and war 
 like race, whose strong fortresses of Comares, Camillas, Com- 
 peta, and Benemarhorga, frowned down from cragged 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, 
 conveying a number of caravels, laden with supplies for the 
 army. 
 
 After surveying the ground, king Ferdinand encamped on 
 the side of a mountain which advanced close to the city, and 
 which was the last of a rugged sierra, or chain of heights, that 
 extended quite to Granada. On the summit of this mountain, 
 and overlooking the camp, was a Moorish town ? powerfully 
 
Tllfi CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 189 
 
 fortified, called Bcntomiz, and which, from its vicinity, had 
 been considered capable of yielding great assistance to Velez 
 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. 
 
 King 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 tak 
 ing 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 other 
 armor 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-bowbut in vain. Never 
 had he been exposed to such peril ; he was surrounded by the 
 enemy, without a weapon wherewith to defend himself. 
 
 In this moment of awful jeopardy, the marques of Cadiz, 
 the count de Cabra, the adelantado of Murcia, with two other 
 cavaliers, named Garcilasso 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 marques was pierced by an 
 arrow, and that worthy cavalier exposed to imminent danger ; 
 but, with the aid of his valorous companions, he quickly put 
 the enemy to flight, and pursued them, with slaughter, to the 
 very gates of the city. 
 
 When those loyal warriors returned from the pursuit, they 
 remonstrated with the king for exposing his life in personal 
 conflict, seeing that he had so many valiant captains whose 
 business it was to fight. They reminded him that the life of a 
 prince was the life of his people, and that many a brave army 
 was lost by the loss of its commander. They entreated hnja, 
 
100 Tim CONQUEST OP GRANADA. 
 
 therefore, in future, to protect them with the force of his mind 
 in the cabinet, rather than of his arm in the field. 
 
 Ferdinand acknowledged the wisdom of their advice, but 
 declared that he could not see his people in peril without ven 
 turing his person to assist them : a reply (say the old chroni 
 clers) which delighted the whole army, inasmuch as they saw 
 that he not only governed them as a good king, but protected 
 them as a valiant captain. Ferdinand, however, was con 
 scious of the extreme peril to which 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, 
 she trembled 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 labor, 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 mean time, king Ferdinand ordered an assault on the 
 suburbs of the city. They were carried, after a sanguinary 
 conflict of six hours, in which many Christian cavaliers were 
 killed and wounded, and, among the latter, Don Alvaro of 
 Portugal, son of the duke of Braganza. The suburbs were 
 then fortified towards the city, with trenches and palisades, 
 and garrisoned by a chosen force, under Don Fadrique de 
 Toledo. Other trenches were digged round the city, and from 
 the. suburbs to the royal camp, so as to cut oft all communica 
 tion with the surrounding country. 
 
 Bodies of troops were also sent to take possession of the 
 mountain passes, by which the supplies for the army had to 
 be brought. The mountains, however, were so steep and 
 rugged, and so full of defiles and lurking-places, that the 
 Moors could sally forth and retreat in perfect security; fre 
 quently swooping down upon Christian convoys, and bearing 
 off both booty and prisoners to their strong-holds. Some 
 times the Moors would light fires at night, on the sides of the 
 mountains, which would be Answered by fires from the watch- 
 towers arid fortresses. By these signals, they would concert 
 assaults upon the Christian camp, which, in consequence, was 
 
 *IH:jas, Hist. Pontif. lib. 6, c. 20. Wwhnar, Hist Vle7 Matega. t Idem. 
 
CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 191 
 
 obliged to be continually on the alert, and ready to fly to 
 arms. 
 
 King Ferdinand flattered himself that the manifestation of 
 his force had struck sufficient 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 per 
 mitted to depart with their effects ; but threatening them with 
 fire and sword, if they persisted in defence. This letter was 
 dispatched by a cavalier named Carvagal, 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 artillery 
 could not be brought to the camp, and they were promised 
 succor by the king of Granada. 
 
 At the same time that he received this reply, the king learnt 
 that at the strong town of Comares, upon a height about two 
 leagues distant from the camp, a large number of warriors had 
 assembled from the Axarquia, the same mountains in which 
 the Christian cavaliers had been massacred in the beginning of 
 the war; others were daily expected, for this rugged sierra 
 was capable of furnishing fifteen thousand fighting men. 
 
 King Ferdinand felt that his army, thus disjointed, and 
 inclosed 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 com 
 manders ; that none should set fire to the woods on the neigh 
 boring mountains; and that all word of security given to 
 Moorish places or individuals, should be inviolably observed. 
 These regulations were enforced by severe penalties, and had 
 such salutary effect, that, though a vast host of various people 
 was collected together, not an opprobrious epithet was heard, 
 nor a weapon drawn in quarrel. 
 
 In the mean time, the cloud of war went on, gathering about 
 the summits of the mountains ; multitudes of the fierce war 
 riors of the sierra descended to the lower heights of Bentomiz, 
 which overhung the camp, intending to force their way to the 
 city. A detachment was sent against them, which, after sharp 
 
192 TUfi CONQVEST OF GltAXADA. 
 
 fighting, drove them to the higher cliffs of the mountain, 
 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 heavy ordnance were left in despair, at Antiquera ; 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 III. 
 
 HOW KING FERDINAND AND HIS ARMY WERE EXPOSED TO 
 IMMINENT PERIL BEFORE VELEZ MALAGA. 
 
 WHILE the standard of the cross waved on the hills before 
 Velez Malaga, and every height and cliff bristled with hostile 
 arms, the civil war between the factions of the Alhambra and 
 the Albaycin, or rather between El Zagal and El Chico, con 
 tinued to convulse the city of Granada. The tidings of the 
 investment of Velez Malaga at length roused the attention of 
 the old men and the alfaquis, whose heads were not heated by 
 the daily broils. They spread themselves through the city, and 
 endeavored 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 the land won by the valor 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 encamped on the mountain of 
 Bentomiz. Do you want a field for the display of your valor? 
 you will find it before the walls of Velez Malaga. " 
 
 When they had roused the spirit of the people, they made 
 their way to the rival kings, and addressed them with like 
 remonstrances. Hamet Aben Zarrax, the inspired santon, 
 reproached El Zagal with his blind and senseless ambition; 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 193 
 
 "You are striving to be king," said he, bitterly, "yet suffer 
 the kingdom to be lost !" 
 
 El Zagal found himself in a perplexing dilemma. He had a 
 double war to wage, with the enemy without, and the enemy 
 within. Should the Christians gain possession of the sea-coast, 
 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, endeavored to com 
 promise with Boabdil. He expressed deep concern at the daily 
 losses of the country, caused by the dissensions of the capital ; 
 an opportunity now presented 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 of Velez Malaga, and to 
 take full vengeance on the Christians. 
 
 Boabdil spurned his proposition, as the artifice of a hypo 
 crite and a traitor. "How shall I trust a man," said he, 
 " who has murdered my father and my kindred by treachery, 
 and has repeatedly sought my own life, both by violence and 
 stratagem?" 
 
 El Zagal boiled with rage and vexation but there was no 
 time 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 mercy of 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 much more powerful force than his nephew, having 
 lately received reinforcements from Baza, Guadix, and Alme- 
 ria ; he could march with a large force, therefore, to the relief 
 of Velez Malaga, and yet leave a strong garrison in the Alham- 
 bra. He took his measures accordingly, and departed sudden 
 ly in the night, at the head of one thousand horse and twenty 
 thousand foot. He took the most unfrequented roads, along 
 the chain of mountains extending from Granada to the height 
 of Bentomiz, and proceeded with "such rapidity as to arrive 
 there before king Ferdinand had notice of his approach. 
 
 The Christians were alarmed one evening by the sudden 
 blazing of great fires on the mountains about the fortress of 
 
194 THE CONQUEST OF QRANADA. 
 
 Bentomiz. By the ruddy light, they beheld the flash of wea 
 pons and the array of troops, and they heard the distant sound 
 of Moorish drums and trumpets. The fires of Bentomiz were 
 answered by fires on the towers of Velez Malaga. The shouts 
 of "El Zagal! El Zagal!" echoed along the cliffs, and re 
 sounded from the city ; and the Christians found that the old 
 warrior king of Granada 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. The 
 count de Cabra, with his accustomed eagerness when there was 
 a king in the field, would fain have scaled the heights, and 
 attacked El Zagel 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 
 every 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 
 splendor. 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 morn 
 ing breeze. The sumptuous pavilions of the king, with the 
 holy 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 full 
 blaze of the rising sun, were descried the tents of the Moor, his 
 turbaned troops clustering about them, and his infidel banners 
 floating against the sky. Columns of smoke rose where the 
 night-fires had blazed, and the clash of the Moorish cymbal, 
 the bray of trumpet, and the neigh of steed, were faintly heard 
 from the airy heights. So pure and transparent is the atmos 
 phere in this region, that every object can be distinctly seen 
 at a great distance ; and the Christians were able to behold the 
 formidable hosts of foes that were gathering on the summits 
 of the surrounding mountains. 
 
 One of the first measures of the Moorish king, was to detach 
 a large force, under Rodovan de Vanegas, alcayde of Granada, 
 to fall upon the convoy of ordnance, which stretched, for a 
 
TllK CONQUKST OF GRANADA. 195 
 
 great distance, through the mountain defiles. Ferdinand had 
 anticipated this attempt, and sent the commander of Leon, 
 with a body of horse and foot, to reinforce the Master of 
 Alcantara. El Zagal, from his mountain height, beheld the 
 detachment issue from the camp, and immediately recalled 
 Eodovan de Vanegas. The armies now remained quiet 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 fearful jeapordy a hostile city below them, a power 
 ful army above them, and on every side mountains filled with 
 implacable foes. 
 
 After El Zagal had maturely considered 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 insure their ruin, and perhaps the cap 
 ture of king Ferdinand. He wrote a letter to the alcayde of 
 the city, commanding him, in the dead of the night, on a sig 
 nal-fire being made from the mountain, to sally forth with all 
 his troops, and fall furiously upon the Christian camp. The 
 king would, at the same time, rush down with his army from 
 the mountain, and assail it at the opposite side; thus over 
 whelming it, at the hour of deep repose. This letter he dis 
 patched by a renegado Christian, who knew all the secret 
 roads of the country, and, if taken, could pass himself for a 
 Christian who had escaped from captivity. 
 
 The fierce El Zagal, confident in his stratagem, 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, appar 
 ently unconscious of the impending danger. Allah Achbar !" 
 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, retrieve all that we have 
 lost. Happy he who falls fighting in the cause of the Prophet! 
 he will at once be transported to the paradise of the faith 
 ful, and surrounded by immortal houris. 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 El Zagal were received with ac 
 clamations by his troops, who waited impatiently for the ap 
 pointed hour, to pour down from their mountain-hold upon 
 the Christians. 
 
196 TUE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 RESULT OF THE STRATAGEM OF EL ZAGAL TO SURPRISE KING 
 
 FERDINAND. 
 
 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 state of the army. 
 
 While in this state of anxious suspense, couriers arrived 
 with all speed from the frontiers, bringing tidings of the sud 
 den sally of El Zagal from Granada, to surprise the camp. 
 All Cordova was in consternation. The destruction of the 
 Andalusian chivalry, among the mountains of this very neigh 
 borhood, was called to mind ; it was feared that similar ruin 
 was about to burst forth, from rocks and precipices, upon 
 Ferdinand and his army. 
 
 Queen Isabella shared 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 arm and hasten to the relief of their sovereign; 
 and she prepared to set out with the first levies. The grand 
 cardinal of Spain, old Pedro Gonzalez de Mendoza, in whom 
 the piety of the saint and the wisdom of the counsellor were 
 mingled with the fire of the cavalier, offered high pay to all 
 horsemen who would follow him to aid their king and the 
 Christian cause; and, buckling on armor, prepared 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 
 had sent their sons to battle, now seized the sword and lance 
 that were rusting on the wall, and marshalled forth thoir 
 gray-headed domestics and their grandchildren for the field. 
 The great dread was, that all aid would arrive too late: 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 mean time, the night had closed which had been 
 appointed by El Zagal for the execution of his plan. He had 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 197 
 
 watched the last light of day expire, and all the Spanish camp 
 remained tranquil. As the hours wore away, the camp-fires 
 were gradually extinguished. No drum or trumpet sounded 
 from below. Nothing was heard, but now and then the dull 
 heavy tread of troops, or the echoing tramp of horses the 
 usual patrols of the camp, and the changes of the guards. El 
 2agal restrained his own impatience, and that of his troops, 
 until the night should be advanced, and the camp 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 
 Bentomiz; but El Zagal looked in vain for the responding 
 light from the city. His impatience would brook no longer 
 delay; he ordered the advance of the army to descend the 
 mountain defile and attack the camp. The defile was narrow, 
 and overhung by rocks: as the troops proceeded, they came 
 suddenly, in a shadowy hollow, upon a dark mass of Christian 
 warriors. A loud shout burst forth, and the Christians rushed 
 to assail them; the Moors, surprised and disconcerted, re 
 treated in confusion to the height. When El Zagal heard 
 there was a Christian force posted in the defile, he doubted 
 some counter-plan cf 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, prepared for the 
 purpose : cliff blazed out after cliff, until the whole atmosphere 
 was in a glow of furnace light. The ruddy glare lit up the 
 glens and passes of the mountain, and fell strongly upon the 
 Christian camp, revealing all its tents and every post and bul 
 wark. Wherever El Zagal turned his eyes, he beheld 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 array, awaiting his attack. 
 
 In fact, the letter of El Zagal to the alcayde of Velez Malaga 
 iiad been intercepted by the vigilant Ferdinand ; the renegado 
 messenger hanged ; and secret measures taken, after the night 
 had closed in, to give the enemy a warm reception. 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, but were again en 
 countered by the mass of Christian warriors, being the advance 
 guard of the army, commanded by Don Hurtado de Mendoza, 
 
198 277# CO^qUi-^T Ob UlUX ABA. 
 
 brother of the grand cardinal. The Moors were again re 
 pulsed, and retreated up the height. Don Hurtado would 
 have followed them, but the ascent was steep and rugged, and 
 easily defended by the Moors. A sharp action was kept up, 
 through the night, with cross-bows, darts, and arquebuses. 
 The cliffs echoed with deafening uproar, while the fires blazing 
 upon the mountains threw a lurid and uncertain light upon 
 the scene. 
 
 When the day dawned, and the Moors saw that there was 
 no co-operation from the city, they began to slacken in their 
 ardor: they beheld also every pass of the mountain filled with 
 Christian troops, and began to apprehend an assault in return. 
 Just then king Ferdinand sent the marques of Cadiz, with 
 horse and foot, to seize upon a height occupied by a battalion 
 of the enemy. The marques assailed the Moors with his usual 
 intrepidity, and soon put them to flight. The others, who 
 were above, seeing their comrades flying, were seized with a 
 sudden alarm: they threw down their arms, and retreated. 
 One of those unaccountable panics, which now and then seize 
 upon great bodies of people, and to which the light-spirited 
 Moors were very prone, now spread throughout the camp. 
 They were terrified, they knew not why, or at what. They 
 threw away swords, lances, breast- plates, cross-bows, every 
 thing that could burthen or impede their flight ; and, spread 
 ing themselves wildly over the mountains, fled headlong down 
 the defiles. They fled without pursuers from the glimpse of 
 each other s arms, from the sound of each other s footsteps. 
 Rodovan de Vanegas, the brave alcayde of Granada, alone 
 succeeded in collecting a body of the fugitives; he made n 
 circuit with them through the passes of the mountain, and 
 forcing his way across a weak part of the Christian lines, 
 galloped towards Velez Malaga. The rest of tne Moorish hop t 
 was completely scattered. In vain diet El Zagal and his 
 knights attempt to rally them; they were leit almost alone, 
 and had to consult their own security by flight. 
 
 The marques of Cadiz, finding no opposition, ascended from 
 height to height, cautiously reconnoitring, and fearful of 
 some stratagem or ambush. All, however, was quiet. He 
 reached with his men the place which the Moorish army 
 had occupied : the heights were abandoned, and shewed with 
 cuirasses, scimitars, cross-bows, and other weapons. His force 
 was too small to pursue the enemy, but returned w? the royoJ 
 camp laden with the spoils, 
 
THE vox QUEST OF UUANADA. 199 
 
 King Ferdinand, at first, could not credit so signal and mi 
 raculous a defeat : he suspected some lurking stratagem. He 
 ordered, therefore, that a strict watch should be maintained 
 throughout the camp, and every one be ready for instant 
 action. The following night, a thousand cavaliers and hidal 
 gos kept guard about the royal tent, as they had done for sev 
 eral preceding nights; nor did the king relax this vigilance, 
 until he received certain intelligence that the enemy was com 
 pletely scattered and El Zagal flying in confusion. 
 
 The tidings of this rout, and of the safety of the Christian 
 army, arrived at Cordova just as reinforcements were on tho 
 point of setting out. The anxiety and alarm of the queen and 
 the public were turned to transports of joy and gratitude. Tho 
 forces were disbanded, solemn processions were made, and te 
 deums chanted in the churches, for so signal a victory. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 HOW THE PEOPLE OF GRANADA REWARDED THE VALOR OF EL 
 
 ZAGAL. 
 
 THE daring spirit of the old warrior, Muley Abdallah El Zagal, 
 in sallying forth to defend his territories, while he left an 
 armed rival in his capital, had struck the people of Granada 
 with admiration. They recalled his former exploits, and again 
 anticipated some hardy achievement from his furious valor. 
 Couriers from the army reported its formidable position on the 
 height of Bentomiz. For a time, there was a pause in the 
 bloody commotions of the city ; all attention was turned to the 
 blow about to be struck at the Christian camp. The same con 
 siderations which diffused anxiety and terror through Cor 
 dova, swellecl every bosom with exulting confidence in Gra 
 nada. The Moors expected to hear of another massacre, like 
 that in the mountains of Malaga. El Zagal has again 
 entrapped the enemy!" was the cry. "The power of the un 
 believers is about to be struck to the heart. We shall soon see 
 the Christian king led captive to the 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. Boabdil was reviled as basely remaining 
 
200 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 passive while his country was invaded ; and sc violent became 
 the clamor of the populace, that his adherents trembled for his 
 safety. 
 
 While the people of Granada were impatiently looking out 
 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 unac 
 countable 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 bale-fires ; 
 of multitudes of armed foes in every pass, seen by gleams and 
 flashes; of the sudden horror that seized upon the army at 
 daybreak; its headlong flight, and total dispersion. Hour 
 after hour, the arrival of other fugitives confirmed the story 
 of ruin and disgrace. 
 
 In proportion to their recent vaunting, was the humiliation 
 that now feh 1 upon the people of Granada. There was a uni 
 versal burst, not of grief, but indignation. They confounded 
 the leader with the army the deserted, with those who had 
 abandoned him; and El Z.agal, from being their idol, became 
 suddenly the object of their execration. He had sacrificed the 
 army ; he had disgraced the nation ; he had betrayed the coun 
 try. He was a dastard, a traitor ; he was unworthy to reign ! 
 
 On a sudden, one among the multitude shouted, Long live 
 Boabdil el Chico !" the cry was echoed on all sides, and every 
 one shouted, Long live Boabdil el Chico ! long live the legiti 
 mate king of Granada : and death to all usurpers !" In the ex 
 citement of the moment, they thronged to the Albaycin; and 
 those who had lately besieged Boabdil with arms, now sur 
 rounded his palace with acclamations. The keys of the city, 
 and of all the fortresses, were laid at his feet ; he was borne in 
 state to the Alhambra, and once more seated, with all due cere 
 mony, 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 knew that 
 he was 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 four of the principal nobles to be struck o*t who had 
 
THE CONQUEST OF, GRANADA. 201 
 
 been most zealous in support of the usurper. Executions of 
 the kind were matters of course, on any change of Moorish 
 government ; and Boabdil was lauded for his moderation and 
 humanity, in being content with so small a sacrifice. The 
 factions were awed into obedience ; the populace, delighted with 
 any change, extolled Boabdil to the skies; and the name of 
 Muley Abdallah El Zagal was for a time a by-word of scorn 
 and opprobrium throughout the city. 
 
 Never was any commander more astonished and confounded 
 by a sudden reverse of fortune, than El 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 army. He saw his squadrons breaking and dispersing 
 among the cliffs of the mountains, until, of all his host, only 
 ahandful of cavaliers remained faithful to Mm. With these 
 he made a gloomy retreat towards Granada, but with a 
 heart full of foreboding. When he drew near to the city, 
 he paused on the banks of the Xenel, and sent forth scouts 
 to collect intelligence. They returned with dejected coun 
 tenances: "The gates of Granada," said they, "are closed 
 against you. The banner of Boabdil floats on the tower of 
 the AJhambra." 
 
 El Zagal turned his steed, and departed in silence. He re 
 treated to the town of Almunecar, and from thence to Almeria, 
 which places still remained faithful to him. Restless and un 
 easy at being so distant from the capital, he again changed his 
 abode, and repaired to the city of Guadix, within a few leagues 
 of Granada. Here he remained, endeavoring to rally his forces, 
 and preparing to avail himself of any sudden change in the 
 fluctuating politics of the metropolis. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 SURRENDER OF VELEZ MALAGA AND OTHER PLACES. 
 
 THE people of Velez Malaga had beheld the camp of Muley 
 Abdallah El Zagal, covering the summit of Bentomiz, and glit 
 tering in the last rays of the setting sun. During the night, they 
 
202 THE CONQUEST OF G8AXADA. 
 
 had been alarmed and perplexed by signal-fires on the moun 
 tain, and by the sound of distant battle. When the nior; 
 broke, the Moorish army had vanished as if by enchantment. 
 While the inhabitants were lost in wonder and conjecture, d 
 body of cavalry, the fragment of the army saved by Rodov; : 
 de Vanegas, the brave alcayde of Granada, came galloping l< < 
 the gates. The tidings of the strange discomfiture of the host, 
 filled the city with consternation; but Rodovan exhorted Un 
 people to continue their resistance. He was devoted to El Za- 
 gal, and confident in his skill and prowess; and felt assured 
 that he would soon collect his scattered forces, and return with 
 fresh troops from Granada. 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 locked up in the impassable defiles of the 
 mountains. This hope was soon at an end. The very next 
 day, they beheld long laborious lines of ordnance slowly mov 
 ing into the Spanish camp, lombards, ribadoquines, catapultas, 
 and cars laden with munitions, while the escort, under the 
 brave Master of Alcantara, wheeled in great battalions into 
 the camp, to augment the force of the besiegers. 
 
 The intelligence that Granada had shut its gates against El 
 Zagal, and that no reinforcements were to be expected, com 
 pleted the despair of the inhabitants ; even Rodovan himself 
 lost confidence, and advised capitulation. 
 
 The terms were arranged between the alcayde and the noble 
 count de Cifuentes ; the latter had been prisoner of Rodovan 
 at Granada, who had treated him with chivalrous courtesy. 
 They had conceived a mutual esteem for each other, and met 
 as ancient friends. 
 
 Ferdinand granted favorable conditions, for he was eager to 
 proceed against Malaga. The inhabitants were permitted to 
 depart with their effects, except their arms, and to reside, if 
 they chose it, in Spain, in any place distant from the sea. 
 One hundred and twenty Christians, of both sexes, were res 
 cued from captivity by the surrender of Velez Malaga, and 
 were sent to Cordova, where they were received with great 
 tenderness by the queen and her daughter the Infanta Isa 
 bella, in the famous cathedral, in the midst of public rejoic 
 ings for the victory. 
 
 The capture of Velez Malaga was followed by the surrender 
 of Bentomiz, Comares, and all the towns and fortresses of the 
 which were strongly garrisoned, and discreet and 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 203 
 
 valiant cavaliers appointed as their alcaydes. The inhabitants 
 of nearly forty towns of the Alpaxarra mountains, also, sent 
 deputations to the Castilian sovereigns, taking the oath of 
 allegiance as Mudehares, or Moslem vassals. 
 
 About the same time came letters from Boabdil el Chico, 
 announcing to the sovereigns the revolution of Granada in 
 his favor. He solicited kindness and protection for the inhab 
 itants who had returned to their allegiance, and for those of 
 all other places which should renounce adherence to his uncle. 
 By this means (he observed) the whole kingdom of Granada 
 would soon be induced to acknowledge his sway, and would 
 be held by him in faithful vassalage to the Castilian crown. 
 
 The Catholic sovereigns complied with his request. Protec 
 tion was immediately extended to the inhabitants of Granada, 
 permitting them to cultivate their fields in peace, and to trade 
 with the Christian territories in all articles excepting arms ; 
 being provided with letters of surety, from some Christian 
 captain or alcayde. The same favor was promised to all other 
 places, which, within six months, should renounce El Zagal 
 and come under allegiance to the younger king. Should they 
 not do so within that time, the sovereigns threatened to make 
 war upon them, and conquer them for themselves. This meas 
 ure had a great effect, in inducing many to return to the stan 
 dard of Boabdil. 
 
 Having made every necessary arrangement for the govern 
 ment and security of the newly conquered territory, Ferdi 
 nand turned his attention to the great object of his campaign, 
 the reduction of Malaga. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 OF THE CITY OF MALAGA, AND ITS INHABITANTS. 
 
 THE city of Malaga lies in the lap of a fertile valley, sur 
 rounded by mountains, excepting on the part which lies open 
 to the sea. As it was one of the most important, so it was one 
 of the strongest, cities of the Moorish kingdom. It was forti 
 fied by walls of prodigious strength, studded with a great 
 number of huge towers. On the land side, it was protected 
 by a natural barrier of mountains; and on the other, the 
 
204 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 waves of the Mediterranean beat against the foundations of 
 its massive bulwarks. 
 
 At one end of the city, near the sea, on a high mound, stood 
 the Aleazaba or citadel, a fortress of great strength. Imme 
 diately above this, rose a steep and rocky mount, on the top 
 of which, in old times, had been a Pharo or light-house, from 
 which the height derived its name of Gibralf aro. * It was at 
 present crowned by an immense castle, which, from its lofty 
 and cragged situation, its vast walls and mighty towers, was 
 deemed impregnable. It communicated with the Aleazaba by 
 a covered way, six paces broad, leading down between two 
 walls, along the profile or ridge of the rock. The castle of 
 Gibralfaro 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 the dwell 
 ing-houses of the most opulent inhabitants, adorned with hang 
 ing 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 
 was 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 privileges of 
 safe traffic with the Christian territories, granted to all places 
 which declared for Boabdil. At the head of these gainful citi 
 zens was Ali Dordux, a mighty merchant of uncounted wealth, 
 whose ships traded to every part of the Levant, and whose 
 word was as a law in Malaga. Ali Dordux assembled the most 
 opulent and important of his commercial brethren, and they 
 repaired in a body to the Aleazaba, where they were received 
 by the alcayde, Albozen Connixa, with that deference gener 
 ally 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 
 effect therefore upon the alcayde, as he represented the hope 
 lessness of a defence of Malaga, the misery that must attend a 
 siege, and the ruin 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 
 
 * A corruption of Gibel-faro; the hill of the light-house. 
 
TIIK COX QUEST OF GRANADA. 205 
 
 voluntary acknowledgment 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 sec 
 onded by his weighty and important coadjutors ; and the al- 
 cayde, accustomed to regard them as the arbiters of the affairs 
 of the place, yielded to their united counsels. He departed, 
 therefore, with all speed, to the Christian camp, empowered to 
 arrange a capitulation with the Castilian monarch ; and in the 
 mean time, his brother remained in command of the Alcazaba. 
 
 There was at this time, as alcayde, in the old crag-built cas 
 tle of Gibralfaro, a warlike and fiery Moor, an implacable 
 enemy of the Christians. This was no other than Hamet Zeli, 
 surnamed El Zegri, the once formidable alcayde of Ronda, and 
 the terror of its mountains. He had never forgiven the cap 
 ture of his favorite fortress, and panted for vengeance on the 
 Christians. Notwithstanding his reverses, he had retained the 
 favor of El Zagal, who knew how to appreciate a bold warrior 
 of the kind, and had Dlaced 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 communion with 
 its trading, gainful inhabitants, and even considered the garri 
 son of the Alcazaba as their inferiors. War was their pursuit 
 and fashion ; 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 inva 
 sion. There were among them, also, many apostate Moors, 
 who had once embraced Christianity, but had since recanted, 
 and had fled from the ve"ngeance*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 Gibralfaro ; 
 and its rage may easily be conceived, at hearing that Malaga 
 was to be given up without a blow ; that they were to sink into 
 Christian vassals, under the intermediate sway of Boabdil el 
 Chico; and that the alcayde of the Alcazaba had departed, to 
 arrange the terms of capitulation. 
 
 Hamet el Zegri determined to avert, by desperate means, the 
 
206 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 threatened degradation. He knew that there was a large 
 party in the city faithful to El Zagal, being composed of war 
 like men, who had taken refuge from the various mountain 
 towns which had been captured : their feelings were desperate 
 as their fortunes, and, like Hamet, they panted for revenge 
 upon the Christians. With these he had a secret conference, 
 and received assurances of their adherence to him in any meas 
 ures of defence. As to the counsel of the peaceful inhabitants, 
 he considered it unworthy the consideration of a soldier ; and 
 he spurned at the interference of the wealthy merchant Ali 
 Dordux, in matters of warfare. 
 
 " Still," said Hamet el Zegri, "let us proceed regularly." So 
 he descended with his Gomeres to the citadel, entered it sud 
 denly, put to death the brother of the alcayde, and such of the 
 garrison as made any demur, and then summoned the princi 
 pal inhabitants of Malaga, to deliberate on measures for the 
 welfare of the city.* The wealthy merchants again mounted 
 to the citadel, excepting Ali Dordux, wko refused to obey the 
 summons. They entered with hearts tilled with awe, for they 
 found Hamet surrounded by his grim African guard, and all 
 the stern array of military power, and they beheld the bloody 
 traces of the recent massacre. 
 
 Hamet el Zegri rolled a dark and searching eye upon the 
 assembly. "Who, "said he, "is loyal and devoted to Muley 
 Abdallah el Zagal?" Every one present asserted his loyalty. 
 "Good!" said Hamet; " and who is ready to prove his devo 
 tion to his sovereign, by defending this his important city to 
 the last extremity ?" Every one present declared his readiness. 
 "Enough!" observed Hamet: "the alcayde Albozen Connixa 
 has proved himself a traitor to his sovereign, and to you all ; 
 for he has conspired to deliver the place to the Christians, it 
 behoves you to choose some other commander capable of 
 defending your city againjft the approaching enemy." The 
 assembly declared unanimously, that there was no one so 
 worthy of the command as himself. So Hamet el Zegri was 
 appointed alcayde of Malaga, and immediately proceeded to 
 man the forts and towers with his partisans, and to make 
 every preparation for a desperate resistance. 
 
 Intelligence of these occurrences put an end to the negotia 
 tions between king Ferdinand and the superseded alcayde Al 
 bozen Connixa, and it was supposed there was no alternative 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios, c. 82. 
 
TJ.h Cv-\Qi }-:$T OF GRANADA. 207 
 
 but to lay siege to tho placa. The marques of Cadiz, howevar, 
 found at Velez a Moorish cavalier of some note, a native of 
 Malaga, who offered to tamper with Harriet el Zegri for the 
 surrender of the city, or at least of the castle of Gibralfaro. 
 The marques communicated this to the king : "I put this busi 
 ness, and the key of my treasury, into your hands, " said Fer 
 dinand; "act, stipulate, and disburse, in my name, as you think 
 proper. " 
 
 The marques armed the Moor with his own lance, cuirass, 
 and target, and mounted him on one of -his own horses. He 
 equipped in similar Style, also, another Moor, his companion 
 and relation. They bore secret letters to Hamet from the mar 
 ques, offering him the town of Coin in perpetual inheritance, 
 and four thousand doblas in gold, if he would deliver up Gib 
 ralfaro ; together with large sums, to be distributed among his 
 officers and soldiers : and he offered unlimited rewards for the 
 surrender of the city.* 
 
 Hamet had a warrior s admiration of the marques of Cadiz, 
 and received his messengers with courtesy in his fortress of 
 Gibralfaro. He even listened to their propositions with pa 
 tience, and dismissed them in safety, though with an absolute 
 refusal. The marques thought his reply was not so peremp 
 tory as to discourage another effort. The emissaries were dis 
 patched, therefore, a second time, with further propositions. 
 They approached Malaga in the night, but found the guards 
 doubled, patrols abroad, and the whole place on the alert. 
 They were discovered, pursued, and only saved themselves by 
 the fleetness of their steeds, and their knowledge of the passes 
 of the mountains. 
 
 Finding all attempts to tamper with the faith of Hamet el 
 Zegri utterly futile, king Ferdinand publicly summoned the 
 city to surrender, offering the most favorable terms in case of 
 immediate compliance ; but threatening captivity to all the in 
 habitants, in case of resistance. 
 
 The message was delivered in presence of the principal in 
 habitants, Avho, however, were too much in awe of the stern 
 alcayde to utter a word. Hamet 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, t 
 
 The messengers returned with formidable accounts of the 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios, c. 82. t Fvdgar, part 3 k cap. V4- 
 
208 TUB CONQUEST OF GRANAD.A. 
 
 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 Antiquera ; and, on the 7th of May, marched with his 
 army towards Malaga. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. ^ 
 
 ADVANCE OF KING FERDINAND AGAINST MALAGA. 
 
 THE army of Ferdinand advanced in lengthened line, glitter 
 ing along the foot of the mountains which border the Mediter 
 ranean ; 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 thousand 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 sea 
 board. Immediately opposite, at about two bow-shots distance, 
 stood the castle ; and between it and the high chain of moun 
 tains, 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 three battal 
 ions 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 body of Spanish 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 cava 
 liers and hidalgos of the royal household attacked the Moors 
 who guarded the pass below. The Moors defended their posts 
 with obstinate valor. The Gallicians were repeatedly over 
 powered and driven down the hill, but as often rallied, and 
 being reinforced by the hidalgos and cavaliers, returned to the 
 assault. This obstinate struggle lasted for six hours : the strife 
 was of a deadly kind, not merely with cross-bows and arque- 
 busses, but hand to hand, with swords and daggers ; no quarter 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 209 
 
 was claimed or given, on either side they fought not to make 
 captives, but to slay. It was but the advance of the Christian 
 army that was engaged; so narrow was the pass along the 
 coast, that the army could proceed only in file : horse and foot, 
 and beasts of burden, were crowded one upon another, imped 
 ing each other, and blocking up the narrow and rugged defile. 
 The soldiers heard the uproar of the battle, the sound of trum 
 pets, 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 mountain 
 which overhung the pass, and advanced with seven banners 
 displayed. The Moors, seeing this force 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 Garcilasso 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 summit. The Gallicians and Castilians, 
 stimulated by this noble self-devotion, followed him, fighting 
 desperately, and the Moors were at length driven to their 
 castle of Gibralf aro. * 
 
 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 to 
 wards the city, and guards and patrols to give the alarm 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 gazed with admiration 
 at this city, which he hoped soon to add to his dominions. It 
 was surrounded on one side by vineyards, gardens, and 
 orchards, which covered the hills with verdure ; on the other 
 side, its walls were bathed by the smooth and tranquil sea. 
 Its vast and lofty towers and prodigious castles, hoary with 
 age, yet unimpaired in strength, showed the labors of magnani 
 mous men in former times to protect their favorite abode. 
 Hanging gardens, groves of oranges, citrons, and pome- 
 
 * Pulgar. Cronica. 
 
210 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 granates, with tall cedars and stately palms, wore mingled 
 with the stern battlements and towers bespeaking the opu 
 lence and luxury that reigned within. 
 
 In the mean time, the Christian army poured through the 
 pass, and, throwing out its columns and extending its lines, 
 took possession of every vantage-ground around the city. 
 King Ferdinand surveyed the ground, and appointed the 
 stations of the different commanders. 
 
 The important mount which had cost so violent a struggle, 
 and faced the powerful fortress of Gibralfaro, was given in 
 charge to Roderigo Ponce de Leon, marques of Cadiz, who, in 
 all sieges, claimed the post of danger. He had several noble 
 cavaliers with their retainers in his encampment, which con 
 sisted 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 encampments extended 
 quite round the city to the seaboard, fortified by bulwarks and 
 deep ditches ; while a fleet of armed ships and galleys stretched 
 before the harbor; so that the place was completely invested, 
 by sea and land. The various parts of the valley now re 
 sounded with the din of preparation, and were filled with arti 
 ficers preparing warlike engines and munitions : armorers 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, preparing fuel for the furnaces and forges. 
 
 When the encampment was formed, the heavy ordnance was 
 landed from the ships, and mounted in various parts of the 
 camp. Five huge lombards were placed on the mount com 
 manded by the marques of Cadiz, so as to bear upon the castle 
 of Gibralfaro. 
 
 The Moors made strenuous efforts to impede these prepara 
 tions. They kept up a heavy fire from their ordnance, upon 
 the men employed in digging trenches or constructing batter 
 ies, so that the latter had to work principally in the night. 
 The royal tents had been stationed conspicuously, and within 
 reach of 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. 
 
THE COSQUKST OF GRANADA. 
 
 "It was a glorious and delectable sight." observes Fray An 
 tonio 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 stan 
 dard of some renowned Catholic warrior. Beside the warlike 
 ships and galleys which lay before the place, the sea was cov 
 ered with innumerable sails, passing and repassing, appearing 
 and disappearing, being engaged in bringing supplies for the 
 subsistence of the army. It seemed a vast spectacle contrived 
 to recreate the eye, did not the volleying bursts of flame and 
 smoke from the ships, which seemed to lie asleep on the quiet 
 sea, and the thunder of ordnance from camp and city, from 
 tower and battlement, tell the deadly warfare that was raging. 
 
 " 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 combustibles 
 thrown into the city, and the conflagration of the houses. The 
 fire kept up from the Christian batteries was incessant ; there 
 were seven great lombards in particular, called The Seven Sis 
 ters of Ximenes, which did tremendous execution. The Moor 
 ish ordnance replied in thunder from the walls ; Gibralfaro was 
 wrapped in volumes of smoke, rolling about its base; and 
 Hamet el Zegri and his Gomeres looked out with triumph upon 
 the tempest of war they had awakened. Truly they were so 
 many demons incarnate," continues the pious Fray Antonio 
 Agapida, "who were permitted by Heaven to enter into and 
 possess this infidel city, for its perdition." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 SIEGE OF MALAGA. 
 
 THE attack on Malaga, by sea and land, was kept up for sev 
 eral days with tremendous violence, but without producing any 
 great impression, so strong were the ancient bulwarks of the 
 city. The count de Cifuentes was the first to signalize himself 
 by any noted achievement. A main tower of the suburb had 
 been shattered by the ordnance, and the battlements demol 
 ished, so as to yield no shelter to its defenders, Seeing this, 
 the count assembled a gallant band of cavaliers of the royal 
 
212 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 household, and advanced to take it by storm. They applied 
 scaling-ladders, and mounted, sword in hand. The Moors, hav 
 ing no longer battlements to protect them, descended to a lower 
 floor, and made furious resistance from the windows and loop 
 holes. They poured down boiling pitch and rosin, and hurled 
 stones and darts and arrows on the assailants. 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 he renewed the attack with 
 superior force, and, after a severe combat, succeeded in plant 
 ing 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 foundation sunk, and 
 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 assistance of 
 their comrades. A continued battle was kept up, for two days 
 and a night, by reinforcements from camp and city. The par 
 ties fought backwards and forwards through the breach of the 
 wall, with alternate success ; and the vicinity of the tower was 
 strewn with the dead and wounded. At length the Moors gradu 
 ally gave way, disputing every inch of ground, until they were 
 driven into the city ; and the Christians remained masters of 
 the greater part of the suburb. 
 
 This partial success, though gained with great toil and blood 
 shed, gave temporary animation to the Christians ; they soon 
 found, however, that the attack on the main works of the city 
 was a much more arduous task. The garrison contained vete 
 rans who had served in many of the towns captured by the 
 Christians. They were no longer confounded and dismayed by 
 the battering ordnance and other strange engines of foreign in 
 vention, and had become expert in parrying 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 ot a scarcity of provisions, 
 from the difficulty of subsisting so numerous a host in the heart 
 of the enemy s country, where it was necessary to transport 
 supplies across rugged and hostile mountains, or subjected to 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 213 
 
 the uncertainties of the sea. Many also were alarmed at a pes 
 tilence which broke out in the neighboring 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 all 
 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 
 as daily returning home in bands. Above all, they declared 
 that the gunpowder was nearly exhausted, so that the artillery 
 would soon be useless. They assured the Moors, therefore, that 
 if they persisted a little longer in their defence, 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, harassing 
 it by night and day, and obliging every part to be guarded 
 with the most painful vigilance. They fortified the weak parts 
 of their walls with ditches and palisadoes, 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 understood that they had been 
 informed, likewise, that the queen was alarmed for the safety 
 of the camp, and had written repeatedly urging him to aban 
 don the siege. As the best means of disproving all these false 
 hoods, and of destroying the vain hopes of the enemy, Ferdi 
 nand wrote to the queen, entreating her to come and take up 
 her residence in the camp. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 SIEGE OF MALAGA CONTINUED OBSTINACY OF HAMET EL ZEGRI. 
 
 GREAT was the enthusiasm of the army, when they beheld 
 their patriot queen advancing in state, to share the toils and 
 dangers of her people. Isabella entered the camp, attended by 
 the 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 cardinal of 
 Spain, Hernando de Talavera, the prior of Prado, confessor to 
 
214 THE CONQUEST OF GR 
 
 the queen, followed with a great train of prelates, courtiers, 
 cavaliers, and ladies of distinction. The cavalcade moved in 
 calm and stately order through the camp, softening the iron 
 aspect of war by this array of courtly grace and female beauty. 
 
 Isabella had commanded, that on her coming to the camp, 
 the horrors of war should be suspended, and fresh offers of 
 peace made to the enemy. On her arrival, therefore, there 
 had been a general cessation of firing throughout the camp. 
 A messenger was, at the same time, dispatched to the besieged, 
 informing 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 Velez Mal 
 aga ; but the inhabitants were threatened with captivity and 
 the sword, should they persist in their defence. 
 
 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 offer in 
 consequence of their despair. The silence of their batteries 
 proves the truth of what has been told us, that their powder is 
 exhausted. They have no longer the means of demolishing 
 our walls ; and if they remain much longer, the autumnal rains 
 will interrupt their convoys, and fill their camp with famine 
 and disease. The first storm will disperse their fleet, which 
 has no neighboring port of shelter : Africa will then be open to 
 us, to procure reinforcements and supplies." 
 
 The words of Hamet el Zegri were hailed as oracular, by his 
 adherents. Many of the peaceful part of the community, how 
 ever, ventured to remonstrate, and to implore him to accept 
 the proffered mercy. The stern Hamet silenced them with a 
 terrific threat : he declared, that whoever should talk of capitu 
 lating, or should hold any communication with the Christians, 
 should be put to death. The fierce Gomeres, like true men of 
 the sword, acted upon the menace of their chieftain 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 ter 
 ror into the citizens, that those who had been loudest in their 
 murmurs became suddenly mute, and were remarked as evinc 
 ing the greatest bustle and alacrity in the defence of the city. 
 
 When the messenger returned to the camp, and reported the 
 contemptuous reception of the royal message, king Ferdinand 
 was exceedingly indignant. Finding the cessation of firing, on; 
 
THE CONQUEST OP GRANADA. 
 
 the queen s arrival, had encouraged a belief among the enemy 
 that there was a scarcity of powder in the camp, he ordered a 
 general discharge from all the batteries. The sudden burst of 
 war from every quarter soon convinced the Moors jpf 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 Gomeres. 
 
 That evening the sovereigns visited the encampment of the 
 marques of Cadiz, which commanded a view over a great part 
 of the city and the camp. The tent of the marques was of 
 great magnitude, furnished 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 Gibralfaro. 
 Here a splendid collation was served up to the sovereigns ; and 
 the courtly revel that prevailed in this chivalrous encamp 
 ment, the glitter of pageantry, and the bursts of festive music 
 made more striking the gloom and silence that reigned over 
 the Moorish castle. 
 
 The marques of Cadiz, while it was yet light, conducted his 
 royal visitors to every point that commanded a view of the 
 warlike scene below. He caused the heavy lombards also to 
 be discharged, that the queen and ladies of the court might 
 witness the effect of those tremendous engines. The fair 
 dames were filled with awe and admiration, as the mountain 
 shook beneath their feet with the thunder of the artillery, and 
 they beheld great fragments of the Moorish walls tumbling 
 down the rocks and precipices. 
 
 While the good marques was displaying these things to his 
 royal guests, he lifted up his eyes, and to his astonishment be 
 held his wn banner hanging out from the nearest tower of 
 Gibralfaro. The blood mantled in his cheek, for it was a ban 
 ner which he had lost at the time of the memorable massacre 
 of the heights of Malaga.* To make this taunt more evident, 
 several of the Gomeres displayed themselves upon the battle 
 ments, arrayed in the helmets and cuirasses of some of the 
 cavaliers slain or captured on that occasion. The marques of 
 Cadiz restrained his indignation, and held his peace ; but sev 
 eral of his cavaliers vowed loudly to revenge this cruel bra 
 vado, on the ferocious garrison of Gibralfaro. 
 
 * Diego de Valera. Cronica, MS. 
 
216 THE CONQtTEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 M CHAPTER XI. 
 
 ATTACK OF THE MARQUES OF CADIZ UPON GIBRALFARO. 
 
 THE marques of Cadiz was not a cavalier that readily for 
 gave an injury or an insult. On the morning after the royal 
 banquet, his batteries opened a tremendous fire upon Gibral- 
 faro. All day, the encampment was wrapped in wreaths of 
 smoke ; nor did the assault cease with the day but, through 
 out the night, there was an incessant flashing and thundering 
 of the lombards, and, the following morning, the assault rather 
 increased than slackened in fury. The Moorish bulwarks were 
 no proof against those formidable engines. In a few days, the 
 lofty tower on which the taunting banner had been displayed, 
 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 storming 
 the breach, sword in hand ; others, more cool and wary, pointed 
 out the rashness of such an attempt ; for the Moors had worked 
 indefatigably in the night ; they had digged 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 
 done so, in return for the insolent defiance of the enemy. 
 
 The marques of Cadiz felt the temerity of the measure, but 
 he was unwilling to dampen 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 
 it might appear perilous. He ordered his outposts, therefore, 
 to be advanced within a stone s-throw of the breach, but ex 
 horted the soldiers to maintain the utmost vigilance. 
 
 The thunder of the batteries had ceased; the troops, ex 
 hausted by two nights fatigue and watchfulness, and appre 
 hending no danger from the dismantled walls, were half of 
 them asleep ; the rest were scattered about in negligent secu 
 rity. On a sudden, upwards of two thousand Moors sallied 
 forth from the castle, led on by Alrahan Zenete, the principal 
 captain under Hamet. They fell with fearful havoc upon the 
 advanced guard, slaying many of them in their sleep, and 
 putting the rest to headlong flight. 
 
 The marques was in his tent, about a bow-shot distance, 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. . 217 
 
 when he heard the tumult of the onset, and beheld his men 
 flying in confusion. He rushed forth, followed by his stan 
 dard-bearer. " Turn again, cavaliers !" exclaimed he; "lam 
 here, Ponce de Leon ! to the foe ! to the foe !" The flying troops 
 stopped at hearing his well-known voice, rallied under his ban 
 ner, 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 Gal- 
 licians 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 numerous com 
 bats : Christian and Moor fought hand to hand, with swords 
 and daggers; and often, grappling and struggling, rolled to 
 gether down the precipices. 
 
 The banner of the marques was in danger of being taken : he 
 hastened to its rescue, followed by some of his bravest cava 
 liers. They were surrounded by the enemy, and several of 
 them cut down. Don Diego Ponce de Leon, brother to the 
 marques, 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. The battle 
 lasted for an hour; the height was covered with killed and 
 wounded, and the blood flowed in streams down the rocks ; at 
 length, Alrahan Zenete being disabled by the thrust of a lance, 
 the Moors gave way and retreated to the castle. 
 
 They now opened a galling fire from their battlements and 
 towers, approaching the breaches so as to discharge their cross 
 bows and arquebusses into the advanced guard of the encamp 
 ment. The marques was singled out ; the shot fell thick 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 counselled it, were now 
 urgent that it should be withdrawn. It was accordingly 
 removed back to its original ground, from which the marques 
 had most reluctantly advanced it. Nothing but his valor and 
 timely aid had prevented this attack on his outpost from end 
 ing 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 devised the first successful blow of 
 the war, the storming of Alhama, where he was the first to 
 
218 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 plant and mount the scaling-ladders. He had always been 
 high in the favor and confidence of the noble Ponce de Leon, 
 who knew how to appreciate and avail himself of the merits 
 of all able and valiant men.* 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 SIEGE OF MALAGA CONTINUED STRATAGEMS OF VARIOUS KINDS. 
 
 GREAT were the exertions now made, both by the besiegers 
 and the besieged, to carry on this contest with the utmost 
 vigor. Hamet el Zegri went the rounds of the walls and 
 towers, doubling the guards, and putting every thing in the 
 best posture of defence. The garrison was divided into parties 
 of a hundred, to each of which a captain was appointed. Some 
 were to patrol, others to sally forth and skirmish with the 
 enemy, and others to hold themselves armed and in reserve. 
 Six albatozas, 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 com 
 munication 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 Portugal. 
 They made great preparations also 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 were encased, to be let 
 down for the descent of the troops into the city. There were 
 gallipagos 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 pre 
 parations, the ordnance kept up a fire upon the city, to divert 
 the attention of the besieged. 
 
 *Zurjtft, Mariana, Abarca, 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 219 
 
 In the mean time, Hamet el Zegri displayed wonderful vigor 
 and ingenuity in defending the city, and in repairing or forti 
 fying, by deep ditches, the breaches made by the enemy. He 
 noted, also, every place where the camp might be assailed with 
 advantage, and gave the besieging army no repose night or 
 day. While his troops sallied on the land, his floating bat 
 teries attacked the besiegers on the sea : so that there was in 
 cessant skirmishing. The tents called the Queen s Hospital 
 were crowded with wounded, and the whole army suffered 
 from constant watchfulness and fatigue. 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 fac 
 ing Gibralfaro, where the rocky heights did not admit of such 
 defences, a hi^fe rampart of earth was thrown up. The cava 
 liers Garcilasso de la Vega, Juan de Zuniga, and Diego de 
 Atayde, were appointed to go the rounds, and keep vigilant 
 watch that these 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. Encour 
 aged by this success, the Moors attempted a general attack 
 upon the camp, 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 dis 
 played wonderful intrepidity, but were finally repulsed at all 
 points, and obliged to retire into the city, where they were 
 closely invested, without the means of receiving any assistance 
 from abroad. 
 
 The horrors of famine were now added to the other miseries 
 of Malaga. Hamet el Zegri, with the spirit of a man bred up 
 to war, considered every thing 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 evening, for 
 his daily allowance. 
 
 The wealthy inhabitants, and all those peacefully inclined, 
 mourned over a resistance which brought destruction upon 
 their houses,, death into their families, and which they saw 
 must end in their ruin and captivity ; still none of them dared 
 
220 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 and a considerable portion of the walls. Draw 
 ing Ali Dordux aside, they poured forth their griefs to him in 
 secret. " Why," said they, " should we suffer our native city 
 to be made a mere bulwark and fighting-place for foreign bar 
 barians and desperate 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 becomes a ruin and its 
 people slaves. Let us think and act for ourselves, our wives, 
 and our children. Let us make private terms with the Chris 
 tians before it is too late, and 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 traffic. The idea 
 also of a secret negotiation or bargain with the Castilian sover 
 eigns, for the redemption of his native city, was more conform 
 able 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 
 conformed to his opinion. Concerting together, they wrote a 
 proposition to the Castilian sovereigns, offering to admit the 
 army into the part of the city intrusted to their care, on receiv 
 ing assurance of protection for the lives and properties 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 unper- 
 ceived. 
 
 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 htm, he 
 was descried by a patrolling band of Gomeres, and considered 
 a spy coming from the camp of the besiegers. They issued 
 forth and seized him, in sight of his employers, who gave them- 
 
CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 selves up for lost. The Gomeres had conducted him nearly to 
 the gate, when he escaped from their grasp and fled. They en 
 deavored to overtake him, but were encumbered with armor ; 
 he was lightly clad, and fled for his life. One of the Gomeres 
 paused, and, levelling his cross-bow, let fly a bolt, which 
 pierced the fugitive between the shoulders ; he fell, and was 
 nearly within their grasp, but rose again, and with a desperate 
 effort attained the Christian camp. The Gomeres gave over the 
 pursuit, and the citizens returned thanks to Allah for their de 
 liverance 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 XIII. 
 
 SUFFERINGS OF THE PEOPLE OF MALAGA. 
 
 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 hands of the un 
 believers. The old warrior king, Abdallah 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 warlike 
 nature made him feel a sympathy for a place that made so gal 
 lant a resistance ; and he dispatched as powerful a reinforce 
 ment as he could spare, under conduct of a chosen 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 hostility against 
 his uncle, and desirous of proving his loyalty to the Castilian 
 sovereigns, he immediately sent forth a superior force of horse 
 and foot, under an able commander, to intercept the detach 
 ment. 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 
 his melancholy triumph. He sent tidings of it to the Castilian 
 Sovereigns, accompanied with rich silks, boxes of Arabian per- 
 
222 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 fume, a cup of gold, richly wrought, and a female captive of 
 Ubeda, as presents to the queen ; and four Arabian steeds mag 
 nificently caparisoned, a sword and dagger richly mounted, 
 and several albornozes and other robes sumptuously embroi 
 dered, for the king. He entreated them at the same time, 
 always to look upon him with favor as their devoted vassal. 
 
 Boabdil was fated to be unfortunate even in his victories. 
 His 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 might 
 rejoice in their golden interval of peace ; but the chivalrous 
 spirits of Granada spurned a security purchased by such sacri 
 fices of pride and affection. The people at large, having grati 
 fied their love of change, began to question whether they had 
 acted generously by their old fighting monarch. "ElZagal," 
 said they, was fierce and bloody, but then he was true to his 
 country ; he was an usurper, it is true, but then he maintained 
 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 religion, friends, country, 
 every thing, 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 military 
 aid to keep him on his throne. Ferdinand graciously complied 
 with a request so much in unison with his policy. A detach 
 ment of one thousand cavalry, and two thousand infantry, was 
 sent, under the command of Don Fernandez Gonsalvo of Cor 
 dova, subsequently renowned as the great captain. With this 
 succor, Boabdil expelled from the city all those who were hos 
 tile to him, and in favor of his uncle. He felt secure in these 
 troops, from their being distinct in manners, language, and re 
 ligion, 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 latine sails, and several banks of oars, displaying 
 the standard of the crescent, but likewise a white flag in sign 
 of amity, came one day into the harbor. An ambassador 
 \anded from it, within the Christian lines. He came from the 
 
THE CONQUEST OP GRANADA. 223 
 
 king of Tremezan, and brought presents similar to those of 
 Boabdil, consisting of Arabian coursers, with bits, stirrups, 
 and other furniture of gold, together with costly Moorish man 
 tles: for the queen, there were sumptuous shawls, robes, and 
 silken stuffs, ornaments of gold, and exquisite oriental per 
 fumes. 
 
 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 sovereigns, and that 
 they would extend such favor 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 recognize and respect their standard, 
 whenever they encountered it. At the tame time he implored 
 their clemency towards unhappy Malaga, and that its inhabi 
 tants might experience the same favor that had been shown 
 towards the Moors of other captured cities. 
 
 The embassy was graciously received by the Christian sove 
 reigns. They granted the protection required ; ordering their 
 commanders to respect the flag of Tremezan, unless it should 
 be found rendering assistance to the enemy. They sent also 
 to the Barbary monarch their royal arms, moulded in escutch 
 eons of gold, a hand s-breadth in size.* 
 
 While thus the chances of assistance from without daily de 
 creased, famine raged in the city. The inhabitants were com 
 pelled 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 ships, daily arriving with 
 provisions for the besiegers. Day after day, also, they saw 
 1-nrds of fat cattle, and flocks of sheep, driven into the camp. 
 Wheat and flour were piled in huge mounds in the centre of 
 ^ift encampments, glaring in the sunshine, and tantalizing the 
 . retched citizens, who, while they and their children were 
 . rishing with hunger, beheld prodigal abundance reigning 
 
 ithin a bow-shot of their walls. 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios, c. 84. Pulgar, part 3, c. 86. 
 
THE CONQUKST OF GRANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 HOT/ A MOORISH SANTON UNDERTOOK TO DELIVER THE CITY OF 
 MALAGA FROM THE POWER OF ITS ENEMIES. 
 
 THERE lived at this time, in a hamlet in the neighborhood of 
 Guadix, an ancient Moor, of the name of Abrahin Algerbi. 
 lie was a native of Guerba, in the kingdom of Tunis, and had 
 for several years led the life of a santon or hermit. The hot 
 sun of Africa had dried his blood, and rendered him of an ex 
 alted yet melancholy temperament. He passed most of his 
 time in meditation, prayer, and rigorous abstinence, until his 
 body was wasted and his mind bewildered, and he fancied him 
 self favored 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 prophe 
 cies, and denominated him el 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 indigna 
 tion this beautiful country wrested from the dominion of the 
 faithful, and becoming a prey to the unbelievers. He had 
 implored the blessings of Allah on the troops 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 melancholy. 
 
 On 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 de 
 livering Malaga from its perils, and striking horror and con 
 fusion into the camp of the unbelievers. The Moors listened 
 with eager credulity to his words : four hundred of them of 
 fered to follow him even to the death, and to obey implicitly 
 1 is commands. Of this number many were Gomeres, 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 travel 
 ling only in the night, to elude the Christian scouts. At length 
 they arrived at the mountains which tower above Malaga, and, 
 
< THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 225 
 
 looking down, beheld the city completely invested ; a chain of 
 encampments extending round 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 p*rts, 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 marques of Cadiz which 
 was at the foot of the height, and on the margin of the sea, 
 was most assailable, the rocky soil not admitting ditches or 
 palisadoes. Remaining concealed all day, he descended with 
 his followers at night to the sea-coast, and approached silently 
 to the outworks. He had given them their instructions ; they 
 were to rush suddenly upon the camp, fight their way through, 
 an.d 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 round 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 succeeded 
 in getting into the gates of Malaga. 
 
 The santon took no part in the conflict, nor did he endeavor 
 to enter the city. His plans were of a different nature. Draw 
 ing apart from the battle, he threw himself on his knees on u 
 rising ground, and, lifting "his hands to Heaven, appeared to 
 be absorbed in prayer. The Christians, as they were search 
 ing for fugitives in the clefts of the rocks, found him at his de 
 votions. He stirred not at their approach, but remained fixed 
 as a statue, without changing color or moving a muscle. 
 Filled with surprise not unmingled with awe, they took him 
 to the marques of Cadiz. He was wrapped in a coarse albor- 
 noz, or Moorish mantle; his beard was long and grizzled, and 
 there was something wild and melancholy in his look, that in 
 spired curiosity. On being examined, he gave himself out as 
 a saint to whom Allah had revealed the events that were to 
 take place in that siege. The marques demanded when and 
 how Malaga was to be taken. He replied that he knew full 
 well, but he was forbidden to reveal those important secrets 
 except to the king and queen. The good marques was not 
 more given to superstitious fancies than other commanders of 
 his time, yet there seemed something singular and mysterious 
 about this man ; he might have some important intelligence to 
 communicate ; so he was persuaded to send him to the king 
 
226 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 and queen. He was conducted to the royal tent, surrounded 
 by a curious multitude, exclaiming El 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 man, yet, from a natural delicacy and reserve, delayed 
 until the 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 Portugal, son of the 
 duke of Braganza, with two or three attendants. The Moor, 
 ignorant of the Spanish tongue, had not understood the con 
 versation of the guards, and supposed, from the magnificence 
 of the furniture and the silken hangings, that this was the 
 royal tent. From the respect paid by the attendants to Don 
 Alvaro and the marchioness, he concluded that they were the 
 king and queen. 
 
 He now asked for a draught of water ; a jar was brought to 
 him, and 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 unfolded his albornoz, so 
 as to grasp a scimitar which he wore concealed beneath ; then, 
 dashing down the jar, he drew his weapon, and gave Don. 
 Alvaro a blow on the head, that struck him to the earth, and 
 nearly deprived him of life. Turning then upon the marchion 
 ess, he made a violent blow at her ; but in his eagerness and 
 agitation, his scimitar caught in the drapery of the tent ; the 
 force of the blow was broken, and the weapon struck harmless 
 upon some golden ornaments of her head-dress.* 
 
 Ruy Lopez de Toledo, treasurer to the queen, and Juan de 
 Belalcazar, a sturdy friar, who were present, grappled and 
 struggled with the desperado; and immediately the guards, 
 who had conducted him from the marques de Cadiz, foil upon 
 him and cut him to pieces, t 
 
 The king and queen, brought out of their tents by the noise, 
 were filled with horror when they learned the imminent peril 
 from which they had escaped. The mangled body of the Moor 
 was taken by the people to the camp, and thrown into the city 
 from a catapult. The Gomeres gathered up the body with deep 
 
 * Pietro Martyr, Epist. 62. t Cura de los Palacios, 
 
THE! CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 227 
 
 reverence, as the remains of a saint; they washed and per 
 fumed it, and buried it with great honor and loud lamentations. 
 In revenge of his death, they slew one of their principal Chris- 
 ian 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 
 Arragon. 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 sover 
 eigns. 
 
 An act of treachery of such ferocious nature, gave rise to a 
 train of gloomy apprehensions. There were many cabins and 
 sheds about the camp, constructed of branches of trees which 
 had become dry and combustible ; and fears were entertained 
 that they might be set on fire by the Mudexares, or Moorish 
 vassals, who visited the army. Some even dreaded that at 
 tempts might be made to poison the wells and fountains. To 
 quiet these dismal alarms, all Mudexares were ordered to leave 
 the camp ; and all loose, idle loiterers, who could not give a 
 good account of themselves, were taken into custody. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 HOW HAMET EL ZEGRI WAS HARDENED IN HIS OBSTINACY, BY 
 THE ARTS OF A MOORISH ASTROLOGER. 
 
 AMONG those followers of the santon that had effected their 
 entrance into the city, was a dark African of the tribe of the 
 Gomores, who was likewise a hermit or dervise, and passed 
 among the Moors for a holy and inspired man. No sooner 
 were the mangled remains of his predecessor buried with the 
 honors of martyrdom, than this dervise elevated himself in his 
 place, and professed to be gifted with the spirit of prophecy. 
 He displayed a white banner, which, he assured the Moors, was 
 sacred ; that he had retained it for twenty years for some signal 
 purpose, and that Allah had revealed to him that under that 
 banner the inhabitants of Malaga should sally forth upon the 
 
228 TIIE CONQUEST OP GHANADA. 
 
 camp of the unbelievers, put it to utter rout, and banquet upon 
 the provisions in which it abounded.* The hungry and credu 
 lous Moors were elated at this prediction, and cried out to be 
 led forth 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 profound reverence, 
 and his example had great effect in increasing the awe and 
 deference of his followers. He took the holy man up into his 
 strong-hold 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 mean time, the prime chivalry of Spain was gradually 
 assembling before the walls of Malaga. The army which had 
 commenced the siege had been worn out by extreme hardships, 
 having had to construct immense works, to dig trenches and 
 mines, to mount guard by sea and land, to patrol the moun 
 tains, and to sustain incessant conflicts. The sovereigns were 
 obliged, therefore, to call upon various distant cities, for rein 
 forcements of horse and foot. Many nobles, also, assembled 
 their vassels, and repaired, of their own accord, to the royal 
 camp. 
 
 Every little while, some stately galley or gallant caravel 
 would stand into the harbor, 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 
 from the mountains to the sound of drum and trumpet, and 
 marching into the camp with glistening arms, as yet unsullied 
 by the toils of war. 
 
 One morning, the whole sea was whitened by the sails and 
 vexed 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 drum and trum 
 pet 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 pos 
 sessions. He came with this princely force, a volunteer to the 
 
 * Cura de los Palaeios. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GEANADA. 229 
 
 royal standard, not having been summoned by the sovereigns ; 
 and he brought, moreover, 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 promise of life, liberty, and pro 
 perty, 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 that 
 he, as well as his followers, had an infatuated belief in the pre 
 dictions of the dervise. 
 
 The worthy Fray Antonio Agapida does not scruple to 
 affirm, that the pretended prophet of the city was an arch 
 nigromancer, or Moorish magician, of which there be count 
 less many," says he, "in the filthy sect of Mahomet;" and 
 that he was leagued with the prince of the powers of the air, 
 to endeavor to work the confusion and defeat of the Christian 
 army. The worthy father asserts, also, that Hamet 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 instruments, 
 to defeat the Christian ships and forces, whenever they were 
 engaged with the Moors. 
 
 To the potent spells of this sorcerer, he ascribes the perils 
 and losses sustained by a party of cavaliers of the royal house 
 hold, in a desperate combat to gain two towers of the suburb, 
 near the gate of the city called la Puerto de Granada. The 
 Christians, led on by Ruy Lopez de Toledo, the valiant trea 
 surer 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 influence 
 he attributes the damage done to the Christian fleet, which 
 was so vigorously assailed by the albatozas, or floating bat 
 teries of the Moors, that one ship, belonging to the duke of 
 Medina Sidonia, was sunk, and the rest were obliged to retire. 
 
 "Hamet el Zegri," says Fray Antonio Agapida, "stood on 
 
230 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 the top of the high tower of Gibralfaro, and beheld this injury 
 wrought upon the Christian force, and his proud heart was 
 puffed up. And the Moorish nigromancer stood beside him. 
 And he pointed out to him the Christian host below, encamped 
 on every eminence around the city, and covering its fertile val 
 ley, 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 ban 
 ner, and attack this host and utterly defeat it, and make spoil 
 of those sumptuous tents ; and Malaga should 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 XVI. 
 
 SIEGE OP MALAGA CONTINUED DESTRUCTION OF A TOWER, BY 
 FRANCISCO RAMIREZ DE MADRID. 
 
 SEEING the infatuated obstinacy of the besieged, the Chris 
 tians now approached their works to the walls, gaining one 
 position after another, preparatory to a general assault. Near 
 the barrier of the city was a bridge with four arches, defended 
 at each end by a strong and lofty tower, by which a part of 
 the army would have to pass in making an attack. The com- 
 mander-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 number of Moors that garrisoned the 
 towers. Francisco Ramirez, therefore, secretly excavated a 
 mine leading beneath the first tower, and placed a piece of 
 ordnance with its mouth upwards, 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 face of the towers, erecting bulwarks at every step, and 
 gradually gaining ground, until he arrived near to the bridge. 
 He then planted several pieces of artillery in his works, and 
 began to batter the tower. The Moors replied bravely from 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 231 
 
 their battlements ; but in the heat of the combat, the piece of 
 ordnance under the foundation was discharged. The 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 bursting beneath their feet, 
 and at beholding the earth vomiting flames and smoke ; for 
 never before had they witnessed such a stratagem in warfare. 
 The Christians rushed forward and took possession of the 
 abandoned post, and immediately commenced an attack upon 
 the other tower at the opposite end of the bridge, to which the 
 Moors had retired. An incessant fire of cross-bows and arque- 
 busses was kept up between the rival towers, volleys of stones 
 were discharged, and no one dared to venture upon the inter 
 mediate bridge. 
 
 Francisco de Ramirez at length renewed his former mode of 
 approach, making bulwarks step by step, while the Moors, 
 stationed at the other end, swept the bridge with their artil 
 lery. The combat was long and bloody, furious on the part 
 of the Moors, patient and persevering on the part of the Chris 
 tians. By slow degrees, they accomplished their advance 
 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, conferred the dignity of knight 
 hood upon Francisco Ramirez, in the tower which he had so 
 gloriously gained.* The worthy 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 XVII. 
 
 HOW THE PEOPLE OF MALAGA EXPOSTULATED WITH HAMET EL 
 
 ZEGRI. 
 
 WHILE the dervise was deluding the garrison of Malaga with 
 vain hopes, the famine increased to a terrible degree. The 
 Gomeres ranged about the city as though it had been a con 
 quered place, taking by force whatever they found eatable in 
 
 * Pulgar, part 3, c. 91. 
 
232 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 
 horse-flesh 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 endeavored to relieve it; and many took refuge 
 in the Christian camp, preferring 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 Ah 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 courage, as well as policy ; he per 
 ceived also that hunger was giving boldness to the citizens, 
 while he trusted it was subduing the fierceness of the soldiery. 
 He armed blmself, therefore, cap-a-pie, and undertook this 
 dangerous parley with the alcayde. He associated with him 
 an alfaqui named Abrahen Alharis, and an important inhabi 
 tant named Amar ben Amar ; and they ascended to the for 
 tress of Gibralfaro, followed by several of the trembling mer 
 chants. 
 
 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 traced with strange characters and mystic dia 
 grams ; while instruments of singular and unknown form lay 
 about the room. Beside Hamet el Zegri stood the prophetic 
 dervise, who appeared to have been explaining to him the mys 
 terious inscriptions of the scrolls. His presence filled the citi 
 zens with awe, for even Ali Dordux considered him a man in 
 spired. 
 
 The alfaqui Abrahen Alharis, whose sacred character 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 
 vain resistance, which mast end in our destruction, but de 
 liver up the city while clemency is yet to be obtained. Think 
 how many of our warriors have fallen by the sword ; do not 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 233 
 
 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 per- 
 adventure more strong than the walls of Roiida? Are our war 
 riors 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 succor? from whence are we to 
 receive it? The time for hope is gone by. Granada has lost 
 its power ; it no longer possesses chivalry, commanders, or a 
 king. Boabdil sits a vassal in the degraded halls of the Al- 
 hambra; El 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 us from these overwhelming horrors." 
 
 Such was the supplication forced from 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 con 
 ferring with this holy man, and find that the time of our de 
 liverance is a thand. The decrees of fate are inevitable ; it is 
 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 bowed with profound 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, hum Vied 
 himself before this holy man, and gave faith to his prophe 
 cies as the revelations of Allah. So the deputies returned to 
 the citizens, and exhorted them to be of good cheer : " A few 
 days longer," said they, " and our sufferings are to terminate. 
 When the white banner is removed from the tower, then look 
 out for deliverance ; for the hour of sallying forth will have 
 arrived." The people retired to their homes, with sorrowful 
 
234 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 hearts ; they tried in vain to quiet the cries of their famishing 
 children ; and day by day, and hour by hour, their anxious 
 eyes were turned to the sacred banner, which still continued 
 to wave on the tower of Gibralfaro. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 HOW HAMET EL ZEGRI SALLIED FORTH WITH THE SACRED BAN 
 NER, TO ATTACK THE CHRISTIAN CAMP. 
 
 "THE Moorish nigromancer, " observes the worthy Fray 
 Antonio Agapida, "remained shut up in a tower of the Gibral 
 faro, devising devilish means to work mischief and discomfit 
 ure 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 astrolo 
 ger, and was studying the stars, and endeavoring to calcu 
 late the day and hour when a successful 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 hunger, and they became 
 restless and turbulent, and impatient for action. 
 
 Hamet el Zegri was one day in counsel 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. Remember, 
 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 
 offences ; for those who are charitable towards each other, will 
 be victorious over the foe." The words of the dervise were 
 received with rapture: all Gibralfaro and the Alcazaba re 
 sounded immediately with the din of arms; and Hamet sent 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 235 
 
 throughout the towers and fortifications of the city, and 
 selected the choicest troops and most distinguished captains 
 for this eventful combat. 
 
 In the morning early, the rumor went throughout the city 
 that the sacred banner had disappeared from the tower of Gib- 
 ralf aro, and all Malaga was roused to witness the sally that was 
 to destroy the unbelievers. Hamet descended from his strong 
 hold, accompanied by his principal captain, Abrahen Zenete, 
 and followed by his Gomeres. The dervise led the way, dis 
 playing the white banner, the sacred pledge of victory. The 
 multitude shouted " Allah Acbar!" and prostrated themselves 
 before the banner as it passed. Even the dreaded Hamet was 
 hailed with praises; for in their hopes of speedy relief through 
 the prowess of his arm, the populace forgot every thing but 
 his bravery. Every bosom in Malaga was agitated by hope 
 and fear the old men, the women arid 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 enterprise, 
 and warning them not to forfeit the protection of the sacred 
 banner by any unworthy act. They were not to pause to make 
 spoil nor to take prisoners : they were to press forward, fight 
 ing valiantly, and granting no quarter. The gate was then 
 thrown open, and the dervise issued forth, followed by the 
 army. They directed their assaults upon the encampments of 
 the Master of Santiago and the Master of Alcantara, 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 Christian striplings just start 
 ing 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 
 tke edge of the sword. Away, imps," cried he, "away to 
 your mothers." The fanatic dervise reproached him with his 
 clemency "I did not kill them," replied Zenete, "because I 
 saw no beards I" * 
 
 The alarm was given in the camp, and the Christians rushed 
 from all quarters to defend the gates of the bulwarks. Don 
 Pedro Puerto Carrero, Senior of Moguer, and his brother Don 
 Alonzo Pachcco, planted themselves, with their followers, in 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios, c. 84. 
 
236 fm CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 the gateway of the encampment of the Master of Santiago, and 
 bore the whole brunt of 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 repeatedly 
 to the attack, hoping to force the gates before succor should 
 arrive : they fought with vehement ardor, 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-fire of all kinds of missiles, from their bulwarks ; 
 the Moors could effect but little damage upon a foe thus pro 
 tected behind their works, while they themselves were exposed 
 from head to foot. The Christians singled out the most 
 conspicuous cavaliers, the greater part of whom were either 
 slain or wounded. Still the Moors, infatuated by the predic 
 tions of the prophet, fought desperately and devotedly, and 
 they were furious to avenge the slaughter of their leaders. 
 They rushed upon certain death, endeavoring 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, seek 
 ing an opening for attack. He gnashed his teeth with fury, as 
 he saw so many of his chosen warriors slain around him. He 
 seemed to have a charmed life ; for, though constantly 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 maniac 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 catapult struck him on 
 the head, and dashed out his bewildered 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 dervise. 
 He covered the flight of his broken forces, turning repeatedly 
 upon their pursuers, and slowly making his retreat into the 
 city. 
 
 The inhabitants of Malaga witnessed from their walls, with 
 trembling anxiety, the whole of this disastrous conflict. At 
 
 * Garibay, lib. 18, c. 33 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 337 
 
 the first onset, when they beheld the guards of the camp put 
 to flight, they exclaimed, "Allah has given us the victory!" 
 and they sent up shouts of triumph. Their exultation, how 
 ever, was soon turned into doubt, when they heheld their 
 troops repulsed in repeated attacks. They could see, 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 heard nothing but 
 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, 
 exclaiming, " 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 Mala 
 ga from the mountain fortresses, now joined in the popular 
 clamor, 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 ascen 
 dancy was at an end ; for most of his officers, and the prime 
 warriors of his African band, had faUen in this disastrous 
 sally. Turning his back, therefore, upon the city, and aban 
 doning it to its own councils, he retired with the remnant of 
 his Gomeres to his strong-hold in the Gibralfaro. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 HOW THE CITY OF MALAGA CAPITULATED. 
 
 THE people of Malaga, being no longer overawed by Hamet 
 el Zegri and his Gomeres, turned to Ali Dordux, the magnani 
 mous Merchant, and put the fate of the city into his hands. 
 He had already gained the alcaydes of the castle of the Geno 
 ese, ai^ of the citadel, into his party, and in the late con- 
 
238 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 fusion had gained the sway over those important fortresses. 
 He now associated himself with the alfaqui Abrahen Alhariz 
 and four of the principal inhabitants, and, forming a provi 
 sional junta, they sent heralds to the Christian sovereigns, 
 offering to surrender the city on certain terms, protecting the 
 persons and property of the inhabitants, permitting them to 
 reside as Mudexares or tributary vassals, either in Malaga or 
 elsewhere. 
 
 When the heralds arrived at the camp, and made known 
 their missis to king Ferdinand, his anger was kindled. "Re 
 turn to your fellow-citizens," said he, " and tell them that the 
 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 favorable terms. When the people 
 beheld this great and wealthy merchant, who was so eminent 
 in their city, departing with his associates on this mission, 
 they plucked up heart ; for they said, * Surely the Christian 
 king will 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 
 passion, to the commander of Leon ; * I ll not see them. Let 
 them get back to their city. They shall all surrender to my 
 mercy, as vanquished enemies." * 
 
 To give emphasis to this reply, 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 of war, thundered furiously upon 
 the city, doing great damage. 
 
 Ali Dordux and his companions returned to the city with 
 downcast countenances, and could scarce make the reply of 
 the Christian sovereign be heard, for the roaring of the ar 
 tillery, the 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 ; but the warriors who were in the city exclaimed, , What 
 has this merchant to do with questions between men of battle? 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios, cap. 84. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF OR AN AD A. 339 
 
 Let us not address the enemy as abject suppliants who have 
 no power to injure, but as valiant men, who have weapons in 
 their hands." 
 
 So they dispatched another message to the Christian sover 
 eigns, offering to yield up the city and all their effects, on con 
 dition of being secured in their personal liberty. Should this 
 be denied, they declared they would hang from the battle 
 ments fifteen hundred Christian captives, male and female; 
 that they would put all their old men, their women and chil 
 dren, 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." 
 
 To this fierce and swelling message, Ferdinand replied, that 
 if a single Christian captive were injured, not a Moor in Mal 
 aga but should be put to the edge of the sword. 
 
 A great conflict of counsels now arose in Malaga. The war 
 riors were for following up their menace by some desperate 
 act of vengeance or of self-devotion. Those who had families 
 looked with anguish upon their wives and daughters, and 
 thought it better to die than live to see them captives. By 
 degrees, however, the transports of passion and despair sub 
 sided, the love of life resumed its sway, and they turned once 
 more to Ali Dordux, as the man most prudent in council and 
 able in negotiation. By his advice, fourteen of the principal 
 inhabitants were chosen from the fourteen districts of the city, 
 and sent to the camp, bearing a long letter, couched in terms 
 of the most humble supplication. 
 
 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 favorite companions. It had long been a 
 strong-hold also for Moorish depredators, and the mart where 
 most of the warriors captured in the Axarquia had been ex 
 posed in triumph and sold to slavery. They represented, 
 moreover, that there were many Moorish cities yet to be be 
 sieged ; and that an example ought to be made of Malaga, to 
 prevent all obstinate resistance thereafter. They advised, 
 therefore, that all the inhabitants should be put to the sword ! * 
 
 The humane heart of Isabella revolted at such sanguinary 
 counsels: she insisted that their triumph should not be dis- 
 
 * Pulgar. 
 
240 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 graced by cruelty. Ferdinand, however, was inflexible in re 
 fuging to grant any preliminary terms, insisting on an uncon 
 ditional surrender. 
 
 The people of Malaga now abandoned themselves to par 
 oxysms 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 sig 
 nalizing their fall by some illustrious action. "Let us sacri 
 fice our Christian captives, and then destroy ourselves/ cried 
 some. Let us put all the women and children to death, set 
 fire 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 
 general clamor. He addressed himself to the principal inhabi 
 tants, and to those who had children. "Let those who live by 
 the sword, die by the sword," cried he; "but let us not follow 
 their desperate counsels. Who knows what sparks of pity 
 may be awakened in the bosoms of the Christian sovereigns, 
 when they behold our unoffending wives and daughters, and 
 our helpless little ones ! The Christian queen, they say, is full 
 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 their city to the mercy of the Castilian sov 
 ereigns. 
 
 The merchant now went to and fro, and had several com 
 munications with Ferdinand and Isabella, and interested sev 
 eral principal cavaliers in his cause ; and he sent rich presents 
 to 1.J3 king a^J queen, of oriental merchandise, and silks and 
 stuffs of gold, and jewels and precious stones, and spices and 
 perfumes, and many other sumptuous things, which he had 
 accumulated in his great tradings with the east ; and he grad 
 ually found favor in the eyes of the sovereigns.* Finding that 
 there was nothing to be obtained for the city, he now, like a 
 prudent man and able merchant, began to negotiate for him 
 self 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 con 
 founded with the guilty. 
 
 * MS. Chron. of Vjilera. 
 
TIIS CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 The sovereigns had accepted the presents of Ah Dordux 
 how could they then turn a deaf ear to his petition? So they 
 granted a pardon to him, and to forty families which ho 
 named ; and it was agreed that they should be protected in 
 their liberties and property, and permitted to reside in Malaga 
 as Mudexares or Moslem vassals, and to follow their customary 
 pursuits.* All this being arranged, Ali Dordux delivered up 
 twenty or the principal inhabitants, to remain as hostages, 
 until the whole city should be placed in the possession of the 
 Christians. 
 
 Don Gutiere de Cardenas, senior commander of Leon, now 
 entered the city, armed cap-a-pie, on horseback, and took pos 
 session in the name of the Castilian sovereigns. He was fol 
 lowed by his retainers, and by the captains and cavaliers of 
 the army ; and in a little while, the standards of the cross, and 
 of the blessed Santiago, and of the Catholic sovereigns, were 
 elevated on the principal tower of the Alcazaba. When these 
 standards were beheld from the camp, the queen and the 
 princess and the ladies of the court, and all the royal retinue, 
 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 clergy who were present, and the choristers 
 of the royal chapel, chanted " Te Deum Laudamus," and 
 " Gloria in Excelsis" 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 FULFILMENT OF THE PROPHECY OF THE DERVISE FATE OF 
 HAMET EL ZEGRI. 
 
 No sooner was the city delivered up, than the wretched in 
 habitants implored permission to purchase bread for them 
 selves and their children, from the heaps of grain which they 
 had so often gazed at wistfully from their walls. Their prayer 
 was granted, and they issued forth with the famished eager 
 ness of starving men. It was piteous to behold the struggles 
 of those unhappy people, as they contended who first should 
 have their necessities relieved. 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios. 
 
242 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 "Thus, "says the pious Fray Antonio Agapida, "thus are 
 the predictions of false prophets sometimes permitted to be 
 verified, but always to the confusion of those who trust in 
 them : for the words of the Moorish nigromancer came to pass, 
 that the people of Malaga should eat of those heaps of bread ; 
 but they ate 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 from the castle of Gibralfaro 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 ourselves 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 tum 
 bling tower of Gibralfaro, or, rushing down from among its 
 ruins, carry havoc among the unbelievers, as they throng the 
 streets of Malaga!" 
 
 The fierceness of the Gomeres, howaver, was broken. They 
 could have died in the breach, had their castle been assailed ; 
 but the slow advances of famine subdued their strength with 
 out rousing their passions, and sapped the force both of soul 
 and body. They were almost unanimous for a surrender. 
 
 It was a hard struggle for the proud spirit of Hamet, to bow 
 itself to ask for terms. Still he trusted that the valor of his 
 defence would gain him respect in the eyes of a chivalrous 
 foe. "Ali," said he, "has negotiated like a merchant; I will 
 capitulate as a soldier." He sent a herald, therefore, to Ferdi 
 nand, offering to yield up his castle, but demanding a separate 
 treaty.* The Castilian sovereign made a laconic and stern re 
 ply : " He shall receive no terms but such as have been granted 
 to the community of Malaga. " 
 
 For two days Hamet el Zegri remained brooding in his 
 castle, after the city was in possession of the Christians; at 
 length, the clamors of his followers compelled him to sur 
 render. When the broken remnant of this fierce African gar 
 rison 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 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 243 
 
 Zenete. The instance of clemency which he had shown in re 
 fraining to harm the Spanish striplings, on the last sally from 
 Malaga, won him favorable terms. It was cited as a magna 
 nimous act by the Spanish cavaliers, and all admitted, 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 undertook my 
 command, I pledged myself to fight in defence of my faith, my 
 city, and my sovereign, until slain or made prisoner ; and de 
 pend upon it, had I had men to stand by me, I should have 
 died fighting, instead of thus tamely surrendering myself with- 
 out a weapon in my hand." 
 
 "Such," says the pious Fray Antonio Agapida, "was the 
 diabolical hatred and stiff-necked opposition of this infidel to 
 our holy cause. But he was justly served by our most Catho 
 lic and high-minded sovereign, for his pertinacious defence of 
 the city ; for Ferdinand ordered that he should be loaded with 
 chains, and thrown into a dungeon, "t 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 HOW THE CASTILIAN SOVEREIGNS TOOK POSSESSION OF THE 
 CITY OF MALAGA, AND HOW KING FERDINAND SIGNALIZED 
 HIMSELF BY HIS SKILL IN BARGAINING WITH THE INHABI 
 TANTS FOR THEIR RANSOM. 
 
 ONE of the first cares of the conquerors, on entering Malaga, 
 was to search for Christian captives. Nearly sixteen hundred 
 men and women were found, and among them were persons of 
 distinction. Some of them had been ten, fifteen, and twenty 
 years in captivity. Many had been servants to the Moors, or 
 laborers 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 
 
 * Oura 4e*los fatecios, cap. 84. tPulgar, Croaica, 
 
244 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 waited to receive the Christian captives. They were assem 
 bled 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 over 
 grown and matted, and their faces pale and haggard from 
 long confinement. When they beheld themselves restored to 
 liberty, and surrounded 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 pro 
 cession 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 thanksgiving. When they came in presence of 
 the king and queen, they threw themselves 011 their knees and 
 would have kissed their feet, as their saviours and deliverers ; 
 but the sovereigns prevented such humiliation, and graciously 
 extended to them their hands. They then prostrated them 
 selves 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 be 
 fore them. After they had eat and drunk, and were refreshed 
 and invigorated, they were provided with money and all things 
 necessary for their journey, and were sent joyfully to their 
 homes. 
 
 While the old chroniclers dwell with becoming enthusiasm 
 on this pure and affecting triumph of humanity, they go on, in 
 a strain of equal eulogy, to describe a spectacle of a far different 
 nature. It so happened, that there were found in the city 
 twelve of those renegado Christians who had deserted to the 
 Moors, and conveyed false intelligence, during the siege: a 
 barbarous species of punishment was inflicted upon them, bor 
 rowed, it is said, from the Moors, and peculiar to these wars. 
 They were tied to stakes in a public place, and horsemen exer 
 cised 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 Christianity, had afterwards re 
 lapsed into their early faith and had taken refuge in Malaga 
 from the vengeance of the Inquisition, were publicly burnt. 
 " These, 1 says an old Jesuit historian, exultingly, " these were 
 the tilts of reeds and the illuminations most pleasing for this 
 
THE CONQUEST OF QHANADA. 245 
 
 victorious festival, and for the Catholic piety of our sove 
 reigns !" * 
 
 When the city was cleansed from the impurities and offen 
 sive odors which had collected during the siege, the bishops and 
 other clergy 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 Incarna- 
 cion. This done, the king and queen entered the city, accom 
 panied by the grand cardinal of Spain, and the principal nobles 
 and cavaliers of the army, and heard a solemn mass. The 
 church was then elevated into a cathedral, and Malaga was 
 made a bishopric, and many of the neighboring towns were 
 comprehended in its diocese. The queen took up her residence 
 in the Alcazaba, in the apartments of her valiant treasurer, 
 Ruy Lopez, from whence she had a view of the whole city ; but 
 the king established his quarters in the warrior castle of Gib- 
 ralfaro. 
 
 And now came to be considered the disposition of the Moorish 
 prisoners. All those who were strangers in the city, and had 
 either taken 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, in redeeming Christian 
 captives from bondage, either in the kingdom of Granada or in 
 Africa ; the second lot was divided among those who had aided 
 either in field or cabinet, in the present siege, according to their 
 rank ; the third was appropriated to defray, by their sale, the 
 grea.t expenses incurred in the reduction of the place. A hun 
 dred of the Gomeres were sent as presents to Pope Innocent 
 VIII. , and were led in triumph through the streets of Rome, 
 and afterwards 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, and 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 
 language, and dressed in the Moresco fashion. These were 
 ransomed by a wealthy Jew of Castile, farmer-general of the 
 royal revenues derived from the Jews of Spain. He agreed to 
 
 *"Los renegados fueron acanavareados : y los converses quemados: y estoa 
 fueron las cafias, y luminarias mas alegres, por la fiesta de la vitoria, para la piedad 
 Catholica de nuestros Reyes." Abarca. Anales de Aragon, torn. 2, Key xxx. c. 3. 
 
246 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 make up, within a certain time, the sum of twenty thousand 
 doblas, or pistoles of gold; all the money and jewels of the 
 captives being taken in part payment. They were sent to Cas 
 tile, 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 part 
 payment, nothing will be destroyed." The king relished 
 greatly this advice ; and it was arranged that all the inhabi 
 tants should be ransomed at the general rate of thirty doblas 
 or pistoles in gold for each individual, male or female, large or 
 small ; that all their gold, jewels, and other valuables should be 
 received immediately in part payment of the general amount, 
 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 paid. If, however, the 
 whole of the amount were not paid at the expiration of the 
 eight months, they should 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 conditions. The 
 most rigorous precautions were taken to exact them to the 
 uttermost. The inhabitants were numbered by houses and 
 families, and their names taken down; their most precious 
 effects were made up into parcels, and sealed and inscribed with 
 their names ; and they were ordered to repair with them to cer 
 tain large corrales or inclosures adjoining the Alcazaba, which 
 were surrounded by high walls and overlooked by watch- 
 towers, to which places the cavalgadas of Christian captives 
 had usually been driven, to be confined until the time of sale, 
 like cattle in the 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 
 taken from them at the threshold, and their persons so rigor 
 ously 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 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 247 
 
 through the streets, heavily burdened, towards the Alcaza"ba. 
 As they left their homes, they smote their breasts, and wrung 
 their hands, and raisetl their weeping eyes to heaven in anguish ; 
 and, this is recorded as their plaint: "O Malaga! city so 
 renowned and beautiful ! where now is the strength of thy cas 
 tles, where the grandeur of thy towers? Of what avail have 
 been thy mighty walls, for the protection of thy children? 
 Behold them driven from thy pleasant abodes, 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 gray hairs shall be no longer reverenced? 
 What will become of thy maidens, so delicately reared and 
 tenderly cherished, when reduced to hard and menial servi 
 tude? Behold, thy once happy families are scattered asunder, 
 never again to be united ; 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. O 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 Mixas and 
 Osuna, which had frequently harassed the Christian camp. 
 The inhabitants were threatened with the sword, unless they 
 instantly surrendered. They claimed the same terms that had 
 been granted to Malaga, imagining them to be freedom of per 
 son and security of property. Their claim was granted ; they 
 were transported to Malaga with all their riches, and, on ar 
 riving there, were overwhelmed with consternation at finding 
 themselves captives. "Ferdinand," observes Fray Antonio 
 Agapida, "was a man of his word; they were shut up in the 
 inclosure at the Alcazaba with the people of Malaga, 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 distributed 
 about in city and country, each Christian family having one 
 or more to feed and maintain as servants, until the term fixed 
 for the payment of the residue of the ransom should expire. 
 The captives had obtained permission that several of their num 
 ber should go about among the Moorish towns of the kingdom 
 
 * Pulgar. 
 
248 THE CONQUEST Of 1 GRANADA. 
 
 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 distresses, to lend a 
 listening ear : so the time expired without the residue of the 
 ransom being paid, and all the captives of Malaga, to the 
 number, as some say, of eleven, and others of fifteen thousand, 
 became slaves! "Never," exclaims the worthy Fray Anto 
 nio Agapida, in one of his usual bursts of zeal and loyalty, 
 "never has there been recorded a more adroit and sagacious ar 
 rangement than this made by the Catholic monarch, by which 
 he not only secured all the property 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 generality of conquerors, who hrve merely the 
 valor to gain victories, but lack the prudence and management 
 necessary to turn them to account." 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 HOW KING FERDINAND PREPARED TO CARRY THE WAR INTO A 
 DIFFERENT PART OF THE TERRITORIES OF THE MOORS. 
 
 THE western part of the kingdom of Granada had now been 
 conquered by the Christian arms. The sea-port of Malaga was 
 captured : the fierce and warlike inhabitants of the Serrania 
 de Ronda, and the other mountain holds of the frontier, were 
 all disarmed, and reduced to peaceful and laborious vassalge ; 
 their haughty fortresses, which had so long overawed the val 
 leys of Andalusia, now displayed the standard of Castile and 
 Arragon ; the watch-towers, which crowned every height, and 
 from whence the infidels had kept a vulture eye over the Chris 
 tian territories, were now either dismantled, or garrisoned 
 with Catholic troops. "What signalized and sanctified this 
 great triumph," adds the worthy Fray Antonio Agapida, 
 * were the emblems of ecclesiastical domination which every 
 where appeared. In every direction arose stately convents 
 and monasteries, those fortresses of the faith, garrisoned by 
 its spiritual soldiery of monks and friars. The sacred melody 
 of Christian bells was again heard among the mountains, call- 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 249 
 
 Ing to early matins, or sounding 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 city of Granada, 
 forming the heart of the Moorish territory, was held in vassal 
 age of the Castilian monarch, by Boabdil, surnamed El Chico. 
 That unfortunate prince lost no occasion to propitiate the con 
 querors of his country by acts of homage, and by professions 
 that must have been foreign to his heart. No sooner had he 
 heard of the capture of Malaga, than he sent congratulations 
 to the Catholic sovereigns, accompanied with presents of horses 
 richly caparisoned for the king, and precious cloth 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 secur 
 ing the lasting friendship of that monarch. 
 
 The policy of Boabdil had its transient and superficial advan 
 tages. The portion of Moorish territory under his immediate 
 sway had a respite from the calamities of war : the husband 
 men cultivated their luxuriant fields in security, and the vega 
 of Granada once more blossomed like the rose. The merchants 
 again carried on a gainful traffic : the gates of the city were 
 thronged with beasts of burden, bringing 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 an apostate and an unbeliever. 
 Muley Abdallah el Zagal was now the hope of the unconquered 
 part of the kingdom ; and every Moor, whose spirit was not 
 quite subdued with his fortunes, lauded the valor of the old 
 monarch and his fidelity to the faith, and wished success to 
 his standard. 
 
 El Zagal, 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, situated in the midst of fertile 
 regions. He had the important sea-port of Almeria, also, 
 which at one time rivalled Granada itself in wealth and popu 
 lation. Beside these, his territories included a great part of 
 the Alpuxarra mountains, which extend across the kingdom 
 
250 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 and shoot out branches towards the sea-coast. This mountain 
 ous region was a strong-hold of wealth and power. Its stern 
 and rocky heights, 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 skirts and 
 slopes of the hills, and, collecting in silver rivers in the 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 em 
 ployment to thousands of manufacturers. The sun-burnt 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 impregnated. In a 
 word, the Alpuxarra mountains had ever been the great source 
 of revenue to the monarchs of Granada. Their inhabitants, 
 also, were hardy and warlike, and a sudden summons from 
 the Moorish king could at any time call forth fifty thousand 
 fighting men from their rocky fastnesses. 
 
 Such was the rich but rugged fragment of an empire which 
 remained under the sway of the old warrior monarch El Zagal. 
 The mountain barriers by which it was locked up, had pro 
 tected it from most of the ravages of the present war. El 
 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 first fruits of that glorious institution, the Inquisi 
 tion." 
 
 It so happened, that about this time there were many fami 
 lies of wealth and dignity in the kingdoms of Arragon and 
 Valentia, and the principality of Qatajonia, whose forefather^ 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 had been Jews, but had been converted to Christianity. Not 
 withstanding the outward piety of these families, it was sur 
 mised, 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 con 
 duct of these pseudo Christians. Inquisitors were sent into 
 these provinces for the purpose, who proceeded with their ac 
 customed zeal. The consequence was, that many families were 
 convicted of apostasy from the Christian faith, and of the pri 
 vate practice of Judaism. Some, who had grace and policy 
 sufficient to reform in time, were again received into the Chris 
 tian fold, after being severely mulcted and condemned to 
 heavy penance; others were burnt at auto dafes, for the edi 
 fication of the public, and their property was confiscated for 
 the good of the state. 
 
 As these Hebrews were of great wealth, and had a hereditary 
 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 emergen 
 cies of war. "In this way," concludes the pious Agapida, 
 "these backsliders, by the all-seeing contrivances of Provi 
 dence, were made to serve the righteous cause w^hich they had 
 so treacherously deserted ; and their apostate wealth was sanc 
 tified by being devoted to the service of Heaven and the crown, 
 in this holy crusade against the infidels. " 
 
 It must be added, however, that these pious financial expe 
 dients received some check from the interference of queen 
 Isabella. Her penetrating eyes discovered that many enormi 
 ties had been committed under color of religious zeal, and 
 many innocent persons accused by false witnesses of apostasy, 
 either through malice or a hope of obtaining their wealth: she 
 caused strict investigation, therefore, into the proceedings 
 which had been held; many of which were reversed, and 
 suborners punished in proportion to their guilt.* 
 
 * Pulgar, part 3, c, 100. 
 
252 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 HOW KING FERDINAND INVADED THE EASTERN SIDE OF THE 
 KINGDOM OF GRANADA, AND HOW HE WAS RECEIVED BY EL 
 ZAGAL. 
 
 "MULEY ABD ALLAH EL ZAGAL," says the venerable Jesuit 
 father, Pedro Abarca, "was the most venomous Mahometan 
 in all Morisma:" and the worthy Fray Antonio Agapida most 
 devoutly echoes his opinion; "Certainly," adds the latter, 
 "none ever opposed a more heathenish and diabolical obstinacy 
 to the holy inroads of the cross and sword." 
 
 El Zagal felt that it was necessary to do something to quicken 
 his popularity with the people, and that nothing was more 
 effectual than a successful inroad. The Moors loved the stir 
 ring call to arms, and a wild foray among the mountains ; and 
 delighted more in a hasty spoil, wrested with hard fighting 
 from the Christians, than in all the steady and certain gains 
 secured by peaceful traffic. 
 
 There reigned at this time a careless security along the fron 
 tier of Jaen. The alcaydes of the Christian fortresses were 
 confident of the friendship of Boabdil el Chico, and they fan 
 cied his uncle too distant and too much engrossed by his own 
 perplexities, to think of molesting them. On a sudden, El 
 Zagal issued out of Guadix with a chosen band, passed rapidly 
 through the mountains which extend behind Granada, and fell 
 like a thunderbolt upon the territories in the neighborhood of 
 Alcala la Real. Before the alarm could be spread and the fron 
 tier roused, he had made a wide career of destruction through 
 the country, sacking and burning villages, sweeping off flocks 
 and herds, and carrying away captives. The warriors of the 
 frontier assembled ; but El Zagal was already far on his return 
 through the mountains, and he re-entered the gates of Guadix 
 in triumph, his army laden with Christian spoil, and conduct 
 ing an immense cavalgada. Such was one of the fierce El 
 Zagal s preparatives for the expected invasion of the Christian 
 king, exciting the warlike spirit of his people, and gaming for 
 himself a transient popularity. 
 
 King Ferdinand assembled his army at Murcia in the spring 
 of 1488. He left that city on the fifth of June, with a flying 
 camp of four thousand horse and fourteen thousand foot. The 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GttANADA. Qfe 
 
 marques of Cadiz led the van, followed by the adelantado of 
 Murcia. The army entered the Moorish frontier by the sea- 
 coast, spreading terror through the land ; wherever it appeared, 
 the towns surrendered without a blow, so great was the dread 
 of experiencing the woes which had desolated the opposite 
 frontier. In this way, Vera, Yelez el Rubio, Velez el Blanco, 
 and many towns of inferior note, to the number of sixty, 
 yielded at the first summons. 
 
 It was not until it approached Almeria, that the army met 
 with resistance. This important city was commanded by 
 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 Ferdi 
 nand came up with the main body of the army, and called off 
 his troops from the skirmish. He saw that to attack the place 
 with his present force was fruitless. Having reconnoitred the 
 city and its environs, therefore, against a future campaign, he 
 retired with his army and marched towards Baza. 
 
 The old warrior El Zagal was himself drawn up in the city 
 of Baza, with a powerful 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 tract of gardens, like a continued 
 grove, and intersected by canals and water-courses. In this he 
 stationed a powerful ambuscade of arquebusiers and cross-bow 
 men. The vanguard of the Christian army came marching 
 gayly up the valley, with great sound of drum and trumpet, 
 and led on by the marques of Cadiz and the adelantado of 
 Murcia. . As they drew near, El Zagal sallied forth with horse 
 and foot, and attacked them for a time with great spirit. 
 Gradually falling back, as if pressed by their superior valor, he 
 drew the exulting Christians among the gardens. Suddenly 
 the Moors in ambuscade burst from their concealment, and 
 opened such a terrible fire in flank and rear, that many of 
 the Christians were slain, and the rest thrown into confusion. 
 King Ferdinand arrived in time to see the disastrous situation 
 of his troops, and gave signal for the vanguard to retire. 
 
 El Zagal did not permit the foe to draw off unmolested. Or 
 dering out fresh squadrons, he fell upon the rear of the retreat 
 ing troops with loud and triumphant shouts, driving them 
 before him with dreadful havoc. . The old war-cry of "El 
 Zagal ! El Zagal !" was again put up by the Moors, and was 
 echoed with transport from the walls of the city. The Chris- 
 
254 Tim CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 tians were for a time in imminent peril of a complete route, 
 when fortunately the adelantado of Murcia threw himself with 
 a large body of horse and foot between the pursuers 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 this skir 
 mish, among the number of whom was Don Philip of Arragon, 
 Master of the chivalry of St. George of Montesor; 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 cas 
 sock for the euirass, and had thus, according to Fray Antonio 
 Agapida, gained a glorious crown of martyrdom by falling in 
 this holy war. 
 
 The warm reception of his advanced guard by the old war 
 rior El Zagal, brought king Ferdinand to a pause : he encamped 
 on the banks of the neighboring river Guadalquiton, and began 
 to consider whether he had acted wisely in undertaking this 
 campaign with his present force. His late successes had prob 
 ably rendered him over-confident : El Zagal had again schooled 
 him into his characteristic caution. He saw that the old war 
 rior was too formidably ensconced in Baz a, to be dislodged by 
 any thing except a powerful army and battering artillery ; and 
 he feared, that should he persist in his invasion, some disaster 
 might befall his army, either from the enterprise of the foe, Or 
 from a pestilence which prevailed in various parts of the coun 
 try. 
 
 Ferdinand retired, therefore, from before Baza, as he had on 
 a former occasion from before Loxa, all the wiser for a whole 
 some lesson in warfare, but by no means grateful to those who 
 had given it, and with a solemn determination to have his re 
 venge 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 alcaydes to be vigilant on their 
 posts and to give no rest to the enemy. The whole of the fron 
 tier was placed under the command of the brave Luis Fernan 
 dez Puerto Carrero. As it was evident, from the warlike 
 character of El Zagal, that there would be abundance of active 
 service and hard fighting, many hidalgos and young cavaliers, 
 eager for distinction, remained with Puerto Carrero. 
 
 All these dispositions being made, king Ferdinand closed the 
 
T1IK CONQUEST OP GHANADA. 
 
 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 XXIV. 
 
 HOW THE MOORS MADE VARIOUS ENTERPRISES AGAINST THE 
 CHRISTIANS. 
 
 u WHILE the pious king Ferdinand," observes Fray Antonie 
 Agapida, " was humbling himself before the cross, and devout 
 ly praying for the destruction of his enemies, that fierce pagan 
 El Zagal, depending merely on his arm of flesh and sword of 
 steel, pursued his diabolical outrages upon the Christians." No 
 sooner was the invading army disbanded, than El Zagal sallied 
 forth from his strong-hold, and carried fire and sword into all 
 those parts that had submitted to the Spanish yoke. The castle 
 of Nixar, being carelessly guarded, was taken by surprise, and 
 its garrison put to the sword. The old warrior raged with 
 sanguinary fury about the whole frontier, attacking convoys, 
 slaying, wounding, and making prisoners, and coming by sur 
 prise upon the Christians wherever they were off their guard. 
 
 The alcayde of the fortress of Cullar, confiding in the 
 strength of its walls and towers, and in its difficult situation, 
 being built on the summit of a lofty hill, and surrounded by 
 precipices, ventured to absent himself from his post. The vigi 
 lant El Zagal was suddenly before it, with a powerful force : he 
 stormed the town sword in hand, fought the Christians from 
 street to street, and drove them, with great slaughter, to the 
 citadel. Here a veteran captain, by the name of Juan de Ava- 
 los, a gray-headed warrior scarred in many a battle, assumed 
 the command and made an obstinate defence. Neither the mul 
 titude of the enemy, nor 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 their way into the exterior court. 
 The alcayde manned the tops of his towers, pouring down 
 melted pitch, and showering darts, arrows, stones, and all 
 
Tim CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 kinds of missiles, upon the assailants. The Moors were driven 
 out of the court ; but, being reinforced with fresh troops, re 
 turned repeatedly to the assault. For five days the combat 
 was kept up : the Christians were nearly exhausted, but they 
 were sustained by the cheerings of their staunch old alcayde ; 
 and they feared death from the cruel El Zagal, should they 
 surrender. 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 Salobreila, laid waste 
 the country of the subjects of Boabdil, and the places which 
 had recently submitted to the Christians : they swept off the 
 cattle, carried off captives, and harassed the whole of the 
 newly conquered frontier. 
 
 The Moors also of Almeria, and Tavernas, and Purchena, 
 made inroads into Murcia, and carried fire and sword into its 
 most fertile regions On the opposite frontier, also, among 
 the wild valleys and rugged recesses of the Sierra Bormeja, or 
 Red Mountains, many of the Moors who had lately submitted 
 again flew to arms. The marques of Cadiz suppressed by 
 timely vigilance the rebellion of the mountain town of Gausin, 
 situated 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, from whence they car 
 ried 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 them. 
 
 The worthy father Fray Antonio Agapida closes his history 
 of this checkered year, in quite a different strain from those 
 triumphant periods with which he is accustomed to wind up 
 the victorious campaigns of the sovereigns. Great and 
 mighty," says this venerable chronicler, " were the floods and 
 tempests which prevailed throughout the kingdoms of Castile 
 and Arragon, about this time. It seemed as though the win 
 dows of Heaven were again opened, and a second deluge over 
 whelming the face of nature. The clouds burst as it were in 
 cataracts upon the earth; torrents rushed down from the 
 mountains, overflowing the valleys ; brooks were swelled into 
 raging rivers; houses were undermined; mills were swep\; 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 257 
 
 away by their own streams ; the affrighted 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 
 Guadalquivir for a time became a roaring and tumultuous sea, 
 inundating the immense plain of the Zablada, and filling the 
 fair city of Seville with affright. 
 
 u A vast black cloud moved over the land, accompanied by a 
 hurricane and a trembling of the earth. Houses were im- 
 roofed, 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 waves, and cast 
 upon the land, where the whirlwind rent them in pieces and 
 scattered them in fragments in the air. Doleful was the ruin 
 and great the terror, when this baleful cloud passed by ; and 
 it left a long track of desolation over sea and land. Some of 
 the faint-hearted, adds Antonio Agapida, "looked upon this 
 torment of the elements as a prodigious event, out of the 
 course of nature. In the weakness of their fears, they con 
 nected it with those troubles which occurred in various places, 
 considering it a portent of some great calamity, about to be 
 wrought by the violence of the bloody-handed El Zagal and 
 his fierce adherents." 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 HOW KING FERDINAND PREPARED TO BESIEGE THE CITY OF BAZA 
 AND HOW THE CITY PREPARED FOR DEFENCE. 
 
 THE stormy winter had passed away, and the spring of 1489 
 was advancing ; yet the heavy rains had broken up the roads, 
 the mountain brooks were swoln 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 entangled 
 in the miry defiles of the mountains, or fretted impatiently 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 
 
258 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 cardinal of Spain, and those rev 
 erend 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 El Zagal would 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, especially the town of Cuxar. The Christians as 
 sailed the walls with various machines, to sap them and batter 
 them down. The brave alcayde, Hubec Adalgan, 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 assailants, and those who managed them. 
 
 The siege was protracted for several days : the bravery of 
 the alcayda could not save his fortress from an overwhelming 
 foe, but it gained him honorable terms. Ferdinand permitted 
 the garrison and the inhabitants to repair with their effects to 
 Baza; and the valiant Hubec Adalgan marched forth with the 
 remnant of his force, and took the way to that devoted city. 
 
 The delays which had been caused to the invading army by 
 these various circumstances, had been diligently improved by 
 the old Moorish monarch El Zagal; who felt that ho 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 
 remaining 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 
 assault ; and he profited by the delays of the Christian army, 
 to supply it with all possible means of defence, He sent 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. Ofr) 
 
 thither all the troops he could spare from his garrison of 
 Guadix, and dispatched missives throughout his territories, 
 calling upon true Moslems to hasten to Baza, to make a de 
 voted stand in defence of their homes, their liberties, and their 
 religion. The cities of Tavernas and Purchena, and the sur 
 rounding heights and valleys, responded to his orders and sent 
 forth their fighting men to the field. The rocky fastnesses of 
 the Alpuxarras 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 Granada 
 also, spurning the quiet and security of Christian vassalage, 
 secretly left the city and hastened to join their fighting 
 countrymen. The great dependence of El Zagal, however, was 
 upon the valor and loyalty of his cousin and brother-in-law, 
 Cidi Yah ye Alnayar Aben Zelim, who was alcayde of Almeria, 
 a cavalier experienced in warfare, and redoubtable in the 
 field. He wrote to him to leave Almeria, and repair, with all 
 speed, at the head of his troops, to Baza. Cidi Yahye departed 
 immediately, with ten thousand of the bravest Moors in the 
 kingdom. These were for the most part hardy mountaineers, 
 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, ambuscadocs, and 
 evolutions. Impetuous in their 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, wheel off and disperse ; and at another sound 
 of a trumpet, they would as suddenly re-assemble and return 
 to the attack. They were upon the enemy when least ex 
 pected, coming like a rushing blast, spreading havoc and con 
 sternation, and then passing away in an instant ; so that when 
 one recovered from the shock and looked around, behold noth 
 ing was to be seen or heard of this tempest of war, but a cloud 
 of dust and the clatter of retreating hoofs. 
 
 When Cidi Yahye led his train of ten thousand valiant 
 warriors into the gates of Baza, the city rang 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 mon 
 arch who has his kindred to command his armies." 
 
260 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 With all these reinforcements, the garrison of Baza amount 
 ed to above twenty thousand men. There were at this time 
 three principal leaders in the city : Mohammed ben Hassan, 
 surnamed the veteran, who was military governor or alcayde, 
 an old Moor of great experience and discretion; the second 
 was Hamet Abu Zali, who was captain of the troops stationed 
 in the place; and the third was Hubec Adalgan, the valiant 
 alcayde of Cuxar, who had repaired hither with the remains 
 of his garrison. Over all these Cidi Yahye exercised a su 
 preme command, in consequence of his being of the blood- 
 royal, and in the especial confidence of Muley Abdallah el 
 Zagal. He was eloquent and ardent in council, and fond of 
 striking and splendid achievements ; but he was a little prone 
 to be carried 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 the old alcayde Mohammed ben Hassan, for 
 whose shrewdness, caution, and experience, Cidi Yahye him 
 self felt the greatest deference. 
 
 The city of Baza was situated in a great valley, eight leagues 
 in length and three in breadth, called the Hoya, or basin of 
 Baza. It was surrounded by a range of mountains, called the 
 Sierra of Xabalcohol, the streams of which, collecting them 
 selves 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 con 
 tinual forest. Here, every citizen who could afford it, had his 
 little plantation, and his garden of fruits and flowers and 
 vegetables, watered by canals and rivulets, and dominated by 
 a small tower to serve for recreation or defence. This wil 
 derness 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 perplexed, 
 and affording covert to the defenders. 
 
 While the Christian army had bocii detained before the fron 
 tier posts, the city of Baza had been a scene of hurried and 
 unremitting preparation. All the grain of the surrounding 
 
TllK CONQUEST Ob 1 U 11 AX AD A. 261 
 
 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 herds 
 were driven, bleating and bellowing, into the gates; long 
 trains of beasts of burthen, some laden with food, others with 
 lances, darts, and arms of all kinds, kept pouring into the 
 place. Already there were munitions collected sufficient for a 
 siege of fifteen months ; yet still the eager and hasty prepara 
 tion was 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 burthened animals, all anxious to get under shelter 
 before the gathering storm; on the other side, the cloud of 
 war came sweeping down the valley, the roll of drum or clang 
 of trumpet resounding occasionally from its deep bosom, or 
 the bright glance of arms flashing forth, like vivid lightning, 
 from its columns. King Ferdinand pitched his tents in the 
 valley, beyond the green labyrinth of gardens. He sent his 
 heralds to summon the city to surrender, promising the most 
 favorable terms in case of immediate compliance, and avowing 
 in the most 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 under 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 endeavor 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 offer of favorable terms, but informing 
 him they were placed in the city to defend, not to surrender it. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF THE GARDENS BEFORE BAZA. 
 
 WHEN the reply of the Moorish commanders was brought to 
 King Ferdinand, he prepared to press the siege with the utmost 
 
262 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 rigor. 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 tho 
 space between them and the suburbs, where his batteries would 
 have full play upon the city walls. A detachment 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 commanders en 
 tered the orchards at different points. The young cavaliers 
 marched fearlessly forward, but the experienced veterans fore 
 saw infinite peril in the mazes of this verdant labyrinth. The 
 Master of St. Jago, as he led his troops into the centre of the 
 gardens, exhorted them to keep by one another, and to press 
 forward in defiance of all difficulty or danger ; assuring them 
 that God would give them the victory, if they attacked hardily 
 and persisted resolutely. 
 
 Scarce had they entered the verge of the orchards, when a 
 din of drums and trumpets, mingled with war-cries, was heard 
 from the suburbs, and a legion of Moorish warriors on foot 
 poured forth. They were led on by the prince Cidi Yahye. He 
 saw the imminent danger of the city, should the Christians 
 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 almighty pro 
 tection of Allah." The Moors answered him with shouts of war, 
 and rushed to the encounter. The two hosts met in the midst 
 of the gardens. A chance medley combat ensued, with lances, 
 arquebusses, cross-bows, and scimitars ; the perplexed nature of 
 the ground, cut up and intersected by canals and streams, the 
 closeness of the trees, the multiplicity of towers and petty edi 
 fices, gave greater advantages to the Moors, who were on foot, 
 than to the Christians, who were on horseback. The Moors, 
 too, knew the ground, with all its alleys and passes ; and were 
 thus enabled to lurk, to sally forth, to attack, and to retreat, 
 almost without injury. 
 
 The Christian commanders, seeing this, ordered many of the 
 horsemen to dismount and fight on foot. The battle then be 
 came fierce and deadly, each disregarding his own life, provided 
 he could slay his enemy. It was not so much a general battle 
 
 * " Illi (Mauri) pro fortunis, pro liberate, pro laribus patriis, pro vita denique cerr 
 tabant." Pietro Martyr, Epist, 79. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 263 
 
 as a multitude of petty actions ; for every orchard and garden 
 had its distinct contest. No one could see further than the little 
 scene of fury and bloodshed around him, nor know how the 
 general battle fared. In vain the captains 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. In some places the Christians had the advantage, in 
 others the Moors ; often, a victorious party, pursuing the van- 
 quished, came upon a superior and 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 
 obscurity of the groves. The Moors were more adroit in these 
 wild skirmishings, from their flexibility, lightness, 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 and 
 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 horrors of the fight by the wreaths of smoke and flame in 
 which they wrapped 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 standard-bearer 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 Roderigo 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 combat, followed 
 by his shouting soldiery. 
 
 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 multiplicity of trees and towers, and the wreaths 
 of smoke ; and those who were driven out defeated, or came 
 
 * Mariana, lib. 25, oap. 13, 
 
264 TUtt CONQUEST OP GRANADA. 
 
 out wounded and exhausted, gave different accounts, accord 
 ing to the fate of the partial conflicts in which they had been 
 engaged. Ferdinand exerted himself to the utmost to animate 
 and encourage his troops to this blind encounter, sending rein 
 forcements of horse and foot to those points where the battle 
 was most sanguinary and doubtful. 
 
 Among those who were brought forth mortally wounded was 
 Don Juan de Luna, a youth of uncommon merit, greatly prized 
 by the king, beloved by the army, and recently married to 
 Donna Catalina de Urrea, a young lady of distinguished 
 beauty.* They laid Mm at the foot of a tree, and endeavored 
 to stanch and bind up his wounds with a scarf which his bride 
 had wrought for him ; but his life-blood flowed too profusely ; 
 and while a holy friar was yet administering to him the last 
 sacred offices of the church, he expired, almost at the feet of 
 his sovereign. 
 
 On the other halid, the veteran alcayde Mohammed ben Has 
 san, surrounded by a little band of chieftains, kept an anxious 
 eye upon the scene of combat from the wans of the city. For 
 nearly twelve hours the battle had raged without intermission. 
 The thickness of the foliage hid all the particulars from their 
 sight ; but they could see the flash of swords and glance of hel 
 mets among the trees. Columns of smoke rose in every direc 
 tion, while tlie clash of arms, the thundering of ribadoquines 
 and arquebusses, 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 children, as their wounded relations 
 were brought bleeding from the scene of action; and were 
 stunned by a general outcry of woe on the part of the inhabi 
 tants, as the body of Eedoan Zalfarga, a renegado Christian, 
 and one of the bravest of their generals, was borne breathless 
 into the city. 
 
 At length the din of battle approached 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 place 
 between the orchards and the suburbs, which was fortified 
 with palisadoes. 
 
 The Christians immediately planted opposing palisadoes, and 
 
 * Mariana. P. Martyr. Zurita. 
 
THE CONQUEST G F OR AN AD A, 265 
 
 established strong outposts near to this retreat of the Moors ; 
 while, at the same time, king Ferdinand ordered that his en 
 campment should be pitched within the 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 impres 
 sion. The Moors, however, kept up constant assaults and 
 alarms, throughout the night; and the weary Christians, ex 
 hausted by the toils and sufferings of the day, were not allowed 
 a moment of repose.* 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 SIEGE OF BAZA EMBARRASSMENTS OF THE ARMY. 
 
 THE morning sun rose upon a piteous scene, before the walls 
 of Baza. The Christian outposts, harassed throughout the 
 night, were pale and haggard; while the multitudes 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 Baza ; once, the 
 favorite resorts for recreation and delight now, a scene of 
 horror and desolation. The towers and pavilions were smok 
 ing ruins ; the canals and water-courses were discolored 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 these sanguinary scenes arose the Christian tents, 
 which had been hastily pitched among the gardens in the pre 
 ceding evening. The experience of the night, however, and 
 the forlorn aspect of every thing in the morning, convinced 
 king Ferdinand of the perils and hardships to which his camp 
 must be exposed, in its present situation ; and, after a consul- 
 
 * Vulgar, part 3, cap. 106, 107. Cura de los Palacios, cap. 92. Zurita, lib. 20, 
 cap. 81. 
 
66 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 tation 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 the mean time, the most active 
 and unremitting exertions were made to remove all the bag 
 gage and furniture of the camp back to the original station. 
 
 AH day, the Moors beheld a formidable show of war main 
 tained in front of the gardens ; while in the rear, the tops of 
 the Christian tents, and the pennons of the different com 
 manders, were seen rising above the groves. Suddenly, to 
 wards evening, the tents sunk and disappeared : the outposts 
 broke up their stations and withdrew, and the whole shadow 
 of an encampment was fast vanishing from their eyes. 
 
 The Moors saw too late the subtle manoeuvre of king Ferdi 
 nand. Cidi Yahye again 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 
 this wayTthe army was extricated, without much further loss, 
 from the perilous labyrinths 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 hindrance. The king called a council of 
 war, to consider in what manner to proceed. The marques of 
 Cadiz was for abandoning the siege for the present, the place 
 being too strong, too well garrisoned and provided, and too ex 
 tensive, to be either carried by assault or invested and reduced 
 by famine, with their limited forces ; while, in lingering before 
 it, the army wauld be exposed to the usual maladies and suf 
 ferings of besieging armies, and, when the rainy season came 
 on, would be shut up by the swelling of the rivers. He recom 
 mended, instead, that the king should throw garrisons of horse 
 and foot into all the towns captured in the neighborhood, and 
 leave them to keep up a predatory war upon Baza, while he 
 should overrun and ravage all the country ; so that, in the fol 
 lowing year, Almeria and Guadix, having all their subject 
 towns and territories taken from them, might be starved into 
 submission. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF -GxAflALA. 267 
 
 Don Gutiere de Cardenas, senior commander of Leon, on the 
 other hand, maintained that to abandon the siege would be 
 construed by the enemy into a sign of weakness and irresolu 
 tion. It would give new spirits to the partisans of El Zagal, 
 and would gain to his standard many of the wavering subjects 
 of Boabdil, if it did not encourage the fickle populace of Gra 
 nada to open rebellion. He advised therefore that the siege 
 should be prosecuted with vigor. 
 
 The pride of Ferdinand pleaded in favor of the last opinion ; 
 for it would be doubly humiliating, again to return from a 
 campaign in this part of the Moorish kingdom, without effect 
 ing a blow. But when he reflected on all that his army had 
 suffered, and on all that they must suffer should the siege con 
 tinueespecially from the difficulty of obtaining a regular sup 
 ply of provisions for so numerous a host, across a great extent 
 of rugged and mountainous country he determined to consult 
 the safety of his people, and to adopt the advice of the marques 
 of Cadiz. 
 
 When the soldiery heard that the king was about to raise 
 the siege in mere consideration of 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 counsels, the king dispatched mes 
 sengers to the queen at Jaen, requesting her advice. Posts 
 had been stationed between them, in such manner that mis 
 sives 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 cap 
 tains ; but should they determine to persevere, she pledged her 
 self, with the aid of God, to forward them men, money, pro 
 visions, and all other supplies, until the city should be taken. 
 
 The reply of the queen determined Ferdinand to persevere 
 and when his determination was made known to the army, it 
 was hailed with as much joy as if it had been tidings of a 
 victory. 
 
268 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 SIEGE OF BAZA CONTINUED HOW KING FERDINAND COMPLETELY 
 INVESTED THE CITY. 
 
 THE Moorish prince Cidi Yahye had received tidings 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 alcayde Mohammed shook his 
 head with incredulity at the suggestion. A sudden movement, 
 one morning, in the Christian camp, seemed to confirm the 
 sanguine hopes of the prince. The tents were struck, the ar 
 tillery and baggage were conveyed away, and bodies of soldiers 
 began to march along the valley. The momentary gleam of 
 triumph was soon dispelled. The Catholic king had merely 
 divided his host into two camps, the more effectually to dis 
 tress the city. One, consisting of four thousand horse and 
 eight thousand foot, with all the artillery and battering en 
 gines, took post on the side of the city towards the mountain. 
 This was commanded by the valiant marques of Cadiz, with 
 whom were Don Alonzo de Aguilar, Luis Fernandez Puerto 
 Carrero, and many other distinguished cavaliers. 
 
 The other camp was commanded by the king, having six 
 thousand horse and a great host of foot-soldiers, the hardy 
 mountaineers of Biscay, Guipuscon, Gallicia, and the Asturias. 
 Among the cavaliers who were with the king were the brave 
 count de Tendilla, Don Roderigo de Mendoza, and Don Alonzo 
 de Cardenas, Master of Santiago. The two camps were wide 
 asunder, on opposite sides of the city, and between them lay 
 the thick wilderness of orchards. Both camps were therefore 
 fortified by great trenches, breastworks, and palisadoes. The 
 veteran Mohammed, as he saw these two formidable camps 
 glittering on each side of the city, and noted the well-known 
 pennons of renowned commanders fluttering above them, still 
 comforted his companions: "These camps, " said he, "are too 
 far removed from each other, for mutual succor and co-opera 
 tion; and the forest of orchards is as a gulf between them." 
 This consolation was but of short continuance. Scarcely were 
 the Christian camps fortified, when the ears of the Moorish 
 garrison were startled by the sound of innumerable axes, and 
 the crash of fallen trees. They looked with anxiety from their 
 
THE CONQUEST OF OR AN AD A. 269 
 
 highest towers, and behold, their favorite groves were sinking 
 beneath the blows of the Christian pioneers. The Moors sallied 
 forth with fiery zeal to protect their beloved gardens, and the 
 orchards in which they so much delighted. The Christians, 
 however, were too well supported to be driven from their work. 
 Day after day, the gardens became the scene of incessant and 
 bloody skirmishings; yet still the devastation of the groves 
 went on, for king Ferdinand was too well aware of the neces 
 sity of clearing away this screen of woods, not to bend all his 
 forces to the undertaking. It was a work, however, of gigantic 
 toil and patience. The trees were of such magnitude, and so 
 closely set together, and spread over so wide an extent, that, 
 notwithstanding four thousand men were employed, they 
 could scarcely clear a strip of land ten paces broad within a 
 day; and such were the interruptions from the incessant 
 assaults of the Moors, that it was full forty days before the 
 orchards were completely levelled. 
 
 The devoted city of Baza now lay stripped of its beautiful 
 covering of groves and gardens, at once its ornament, its 
 delight, and its protection. The besiegers went on slowly and 
 surely, with almost incredible labors, 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 pali 
 sadoes, fortified by fifteen castles, at regular distances. They 
 dug a deep trench, also, . two leagues in length, across the 
 mountain in the rear of the city, reaching from camp 4:o camp, 
 and fortified it on each side with walls of earth, and stone, and 
 wood. Thus the Moors were inclosed on all sides by trenches, 
 palisadoes, walls, and castles; so that it was impossible for 
 them to sally beyond this great line of circumvallation nor 
 could any force enter to their succor. Ferdinand made an 
 attempt, likewise, to cut off the supply of water from the city ; 
 "for water," observes the worthy Agapida, "is more neces 
 sary to these infidels than bread, making use of it in repeated 
 daily ablutions enjoined by their damnable religion, and em 
 ploying it in baths and in a thousand other idle and extrava 
 gant 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 Albohacen, just behind the city. The 
 Moors had almost a superstitious fondness for this fountain, 
 and chiefly depended upon it for their supplies. Receiving in- 
 
270 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 timation 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 impending 
 hill, as to set all attempts of the Christian assailants at 
 defiance. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 EXPLOIT OF HERNANDO PEREZ DEL PULGAR AND OTHER 
 CAVALIERS. 
 
 THE siege of Baza, while it displayed the skill and science of 
 the Christian commanders, gave but little scope for the adven 
 turous spirit and fiery valor 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 diffi 
 culty and danger. Two of the most spirited of these youth 
 ful cavaliers were Francisco de Bazan 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 
 venting their impatience at this life of inaction, they were 
 overheard by a veteran adalid, one of those scouts or guides 
 who are acquainted with all parts of the country. "Senors," 
 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, Alhen- 
 den, and other towns of the Alpuxarras, had recently harassed 
 the Christian territories by expeditions of the kind. Francisco 
 de Bazan and Antonio de Cueva soon found ether young cava 
 liers of their age, eager to join 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 
 
THE COX QUEST OF GRANADA. 271 
 
 on the edge of an evening, and, guided by the adalid, made 
 their way by star-light 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 flocks and herds. 
 Without giving themselves time to rest, they set out upon their 
 return, making with all speed for 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 hun 
 dred of his choicest horse and foot, with orders to recover 
 the booty, and to bring those insolent marauders captive to 
 Guadix. 
 
 The Christian cavaliers were urging their cavalgada of cat 
 tle 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 
 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 relinquish 
 their spoil, and save themselves by flight. The captains, 
 Francisco de Bazan and Antonio de Cueva, spurned 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 counsel 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 words, and de 
 clared that they would 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 companions 
 As the enemy approached, the tumult of opinions increased, 
 
27.2 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 and every thing was in confusion. The captains, to put an 
 end to the dispute, ordered the standard-hearer to advance 
 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 Hernando 
 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 ye 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 gen 
 erous emulation: all turned with one accord, and, following 
 the valiant Pulgar, rushed with shouts upon the enemy. The 
 Moors scarcely waited to receive the shook of their encounter. 
 Seized with a sudden panic, they took to flight, and were pur 
 sued for a considerable 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 cavalgada 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 honor of knighthood, and ordered, that in memory of his 
 achievement, he should bear for arms a lance with a handker 
 chief at the end of it, together with a castle and twelve lions. 
 This is but one of many hardy and heroic deeds done by this 
 brave cavalier, in the wars against the Moors ; by which he 
 gained great renown, and the distinguished appellation of "El 
 de las hazanas," or " He of the exploits." * 
 
 * Hernando del Pulgar, the historian, secretary to queen Isabella, is confounded 
 with this cavalier, by some writers. He was also present at the siege of Baza, and 
 has recounted this transaction in his chronicle of the Catholic sovereigns Ferdinand, 
 and Isabella. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 * 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 CONTINUATION OF THE SIEGE OF BAZA. 
 
 THE 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 Guadix ; but his spirits fell, 
 when he beheld his own troops stealing back in the dusk of 
 the evening, in broken and dejected parties. 
 
 The fortune of war bore hard against the old monarch ; his 
 mind was harassed by the disastrous tidings brought each day 
 from Baza, of the sufferings of the inhabitants, and the num 
 bers of the garrison slain in the frequent skirmishes. He 
 dared not go in person to the relief of the place, for his pre 
 sence 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 pre 
 ferable to that of his nephew Boabdil. The old monarch was 
 battling like a warrior, on the last step of his throne ; El Chico 
 remained a kind of pensioned vassal, in the luxurious abode of 
 the Alhambra. The chivalrous part of the inhabitants of 
 Granada could not but compare the generous stand made by 
 the warriors of Baza for their country and their faith, with 
 their own timeserving submission to the yoke of an unbeliever. 
 Every account they received of the woes 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 with their weapons, and hastened to join the besieged ; 
 and the partisans of El Zagal wrought upon the patriotism and 
 passions of the 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 
 
274 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 movements 
 and measures for the relief of Baza, and took timely precau 
 tions to prevent them. Bodies of horsemen held watch in the 
 mountain passes, to prevent all supplies, and to intercept any 
 generous volunteers from Granada; and watch-towers were 
 erected, or scouts were placed on every commanding height, 
 to give the alarm at the least sign of a hostile turban. 
 
 The prince Cidi Yahye and his 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 squa 
 drons of troops. Week after week, and month after month, 
 passed away, but Ferdinand waited in vain for the garrison 
 to be either terrified or starved into surrender. Every clay 
 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 our growing faint and desponding we must manifest 
 unusual cheerfulness and vigor. What would be rashness in 
 other service, becomes prudence with us." The prince Cidi 
 Yahye agreed with him in opinion, and sallied forth with his 
 troops upon all kinds of harebrained exploits. They laid am 
 bushes, concerted surprises, and made the most desperate as- 
 saults. The great extent of the Christian works rendered 
 them weak in many parts : against these the Moors directed 
 their attacks, 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, hurrying 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 Galindo. beheld a powerful Moor dealing 
 deadly blows about him, and making great havoc among the 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 275 
 
 Christians. Galindo 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 
 first shock the Moor was wounded in the face, and borne out 
 of his saddle. Before Galiiido 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 arid 
 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 comrades 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 
 Moors to single combat; buf king Ferdinand prohibited all 
 vaunting encounters of the kind. He forbade his troops, also, 
 to provoke skirmishes, well knowing that the Moors were 
 more dexterous than most people in this irregular mode of 
 fighting, and were better acquainted with the ground. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 HOW TWO FRIARS ARRIVED AT THE OAMP, AND HOW THEY CAME 
 FROM THE HOLY LAND. 
 
 WHILE the holy Christian army (says Fray Antonio Aga- 
 pida) was thus beleaguring 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 authoritative 
 air: he bestrode a goodly steed, well conditioned and well 
 caparisoned; while his companion rode beside him, upon a 
 humble hack, poorly accoutred, and, as he rode, he 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 
 
276 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 always seen together; but it was soon discovered that these 
 worthy saints-errant were from a far country, and on a mis 
 sion of great import. 
 
 They were, in truth, just arrived from the Holy Land, being 
 two of the 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 Millan, 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 be 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 he was one of the most active, zeal 
 ous, 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 corner, which showed, that though harmless as a 
 dove, he was nevertheless as wise as a serpent. 
 
 These holy men had come on a momentous embassy from the 
 grand soldan of Egypt ; or, as Agapida terms him in the lan 
 guage of the day, the soldan of Babylon. The league which had 
 been made between that potentate and his arch-foe the Grand- 
 Turk Bajazet II. , to unite in arms for the salvation of Granada, 
 as has been mentioned in a previous chapter of this chronicle, 
 had come to nought. The infidel princes had again taken up 
 arms 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 dispatched, there 
 fore, these two holy friars with letters ^) the Castilian sove 
 reigns, as well as to the pope and to the king of Naples, remon 
 strating 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 full enjoyment of their property, their 
 liberty, and their faith, in his dominions. He insisted, there 
 fore, 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 ths 
 
THE COX QUEST OF GRANADA. 217 
 
 Christians of Palestine ; and when the intrepid Fray Antonio 
 Millaii and his lowly companion departed 011 their mission, 
 they were accompanied far from the gates of Jerusalem by an 
 anxious throng of brethren and disciples, who remained watch 
 ing them with tearful eyes, as they journeyed over the plains 
 of Judea. 
 
 These holy ambassadors were received with great distinction 
 by king Ferdinand ; for men of their cloth had ever high honor 
 and consideration in his court. He had long and frequent con 
 versations with them, about the Holy Land; the state of the 
 Christian church in tli3 dominions of the grand soldan, and of 
 the policy and conduct of that arch-infidel towards it. The 
 portly prior of the Franciscan convent was full, 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 lowly companion, " whose discourse," 
 adds Agapida, "though modest and low, was clear and fluent, 
 and full of subtle wisdom." These holy friars had visited 
 Rome in their journeying, where they had delivered the letter 
 of the soldan to the sovereign pontiff. His holiness had writ 
 ten by them to the Castilian sovereigns, 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 cause of this war with 
 the Moors of Granada, and expressed great marvel at its 
 events, as if (says Agapida) both were not notorious through 
 out all the Christian world. "Nay, "adds the worthy friar 
 wit h becoming indignation, "he uttered opinions savoring 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 Cas 
 tilian sovereigns did not suffer any crying injury from the 
 Moors, it would be improper to do any thing which might 
 draw great damage upon the Christians: as if, when once the 
 sword of the faith was drawn, it ought ever to be sheathed 
 until this scum of heathendom were utterly destroyed or 
 driven from the land. But this monarch," he continues, "was 
 more kindly disposed towards the infidels than was honest and 
 hopeful in a Christian prince, and was at that very time in 
 league with the soldan against their common enemy the 
 Grand-Turk." 
 
278 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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, should 
 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 Abar 
 ca, was no less master of dissimulation than his cousin of 
 Naples ; so he replied to him with the utmost suavity of man 
 ner, going into a minute and patient vindication of the war, 
 and taking great apparent pains to inform him of those things 
 which all the world knew, but of which the other pretended to 
 be ignorant, "f At the same time he soothed 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. 
 
 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 inflicted upon 
 the Christians ; and finally, that it was a holy crusade for the 
 glory and advancement of the church. 
 
 "It was a truly edifying sight," says Agapida, "to behold 
 these friars, after they had 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 sepul 
 chre of our Lord, and the sufferings of the devoted brethren 
 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 resounding eloquence on the his 
 tory of the sepulchre ; but the humbler brother would ever and 
 anon sigh deeply, and in low tones utter some tale of suffering 
 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, 
 
 * Mariana, lib. 25, cap. 15. 
 
 t Abarca, Anales de Aragon, Rey xxx. cap. 3. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 279 
 
 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, received them as 
 sacred men, invested with more than human dignity. During 
 their residence at Jaen, they were continually in the royal 
 presence; the respectable prior of the convent moved and 
 melted the ladies of the court by his florid rhetoric, but his 
 lowly companion was observed to have continual access to the 
 royal ear. That saintly and soft-spoken messenger (says Aga- 
 pida) received the reward of his humility; 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 convent of the holy sepulchre.* 
 
 Moreover, on the departure of these holy ambassadors, the 
 excellent and most Catholic queen delivered to them a veil 
 devoutly embroidered with her own royal hands, to be placed 
 over the holy sepulchre ; a precious and inestimable present, 
 which called forth a most eloquent tribute of thanks from the 
 portly prior, but which brought tears into the eyes of his lowly 
 companion, t 
 
 * " La Reyna dio a los Frayles mil ducados de renta cado ano para el sustanto de 
 los religiosos del santo sepulcro, que es la mejor limosna y sustanto que hasta nu- 
 estros dias ha quedado a estos religiosas de Gerusalem: para donde les dio la Reyna 
 un velo labrado por sus manos, para poner encima de la santa sepultura del 
 Senor." Garibay, Compend. Hist. lib. 18, cap. 36. 
 
 t It is proper to mention the result of this mission of the two friars, and which 
 the worthy Agapida has neglected to record. At a subsequent period, the Catholic 
 sovereigns sent the distinguished historian, Pietro Martyr, of Angleria, as ambassa 
 dor to the grand soldan. That able man made such representations as were per 
 fectly satisfactory to the oriental potentate. He also obtained from him the re 
 mission 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 ac 
 count of his embassy to tke grand soldan a work greatly esteemed by the learned, 
 and containing much curious information. It is entitled, De Legatione Sabylonica. 
 
280 Tim CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXTI. 
 
 HOW QUEEN ISABELLA DEVISED MEANS TO SUPPLY THE ARMY 
 WITH PROVISIONS. 
 
 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 coun 
 sels and measures of the queen, who, he observes, though less 
 ostensible in action, was in truth the very soul, the vital prin 
 ciple, 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 
 herself to keep up a supply of men, and money, and provi 
 sions, until the city should be taken. The 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 either repaired in person or sent forces to the camp ; the 
 ancient and warlike families vied with each other in marshal 
 ling forth their vassals, and thus the besieged Moors beheld 
 each day fresh troops arriving before their city, and new en 
 signs and pennons displayed, emblazoned with arms well 
 known to the veteran warriors. 
 
 But the most arduous task was to keep up a regular supply 
 of provisions. It was not the army alone that had to be sup 
 ported, but also the captured towns and their garrisons ; for 
 the whole country around them had been ravaged, and the 
 conquerors were in danger of starving in the midst of the land 
 they had desolated. To transport the daily supplies for such 
 immense numbers, was a gigantic undertaking, in a country 
 where there was neither water conveyance nor roads for car 
 riages. Every thing had to be borne by beasts of burthen over 
 rugged and broken paths of the mountains, and through dan 
 gerous defiles, exposed to the attacks and plunderings of the 
 Moors. 
 
 The wary and calculating merchants, accustomed to supply 
 the army, shrunk from engaging, at their own risk, in so 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA 281 
 
 hazardous an undertaking. The queen therefore hired four 
 teen thousand beasts of burthen, and ordered all the wheat 
 and barley to be bought up in Andalusia, and in the domains 
 of the knights of Santiago and Calatrava. She distributed the 
 administration of these supplies among able and confidential 
 persons. Some were employed to collect the grain ; others, to 
 take it to the mills ; others, to superintend the 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 con 
 stant movement, traversing 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 immense granary, and sold to the army at a 
 fixed price, which was never either raised or lowered. 
 
 Incredible were the expenses incurred in these supplies ; but 
 the queen had ghostly advisers, thoroughly versed in the art 
 of getting at the resources of the country. Many worthy pre 
 lates 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 Provi 
 dence an hundred fold. Merchants and other wealthy indi 
 viduals, confident of the punctual faith of the queen, advanced 
 large sums on the security of her word ; many noble families 
 lent their plate, without waiting to be asked. The queen also 
 sold certain annual rents in inheritance at great sacrifices, 
 assigning the revenue of towns and cities for the payment. 
 Finding all this insufficient to satisfy the enormous expendi 
 ture, she sent her gold and plate and all her jewels to the 
 cities of Valentia and Barcelona, where they were pledged for 
 a great amount of money, which was immediately appro 
 priated to keep up the supplies of the army. 
 
 Thus, through the wonderful activity, judgment, and enter 
 prise 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 artificers 
 from all parts, to repair, as if in caravans, to this great mili 
 tary market. In a little while, the camp abounded with 
 tradesmen and artists of all kinds, to administer to the luxury 
 
282 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 and ostentation of the youthful chivalry. Here might be seen 
 cunning artificers in steel, and accomplished armorers, achiev 
 ing those rare and sumptuous helmets and cuirasses, richly 
 gilt, inlaid, and embossed, in which the Spanish cavaliers 
 delighted. Saddlers and harness-makers and horse-milliners, 
 also, were there, whose tents glittered with gorgeous housings 
 and caparisons. The merchants spread forth their sumptuous 
 silks, cloths, brocades, fine linen, and tapestry. The tents of 
 the nobility were prodigally decorated with all kinds of the 
 richest stuffs, and dazzled the eye with their magnificence: 
 nor could the grave looks and grave speeches of king Ferdi 
 nand prevent his youthful cavaliers from vying with each 
 other in the splendor of their dresses and caparisons, on all 
 occasions of parade and ceremony. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 OF THE DISASTERS WHICH BEFELL THE CAMP. 
 
 WHILE the Christian camp, thus gay and gorgeous, spread 
 itself out like a holyday pageant before the walls of Baza 
 while a long line of beasts of burthen, laden with provisions 
 and luxuries, were seen descending the valley from morning 
 till night, and pouring into the camp a continued stream of 
 abundance, the unfortunate garrison found their resources 
 rapidly wasting away, and famine already began to pinch the 
 peaceful part of the community. 
 
 Cidi Yahye had acted with great spirit and valor, 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 reve 
 ries and cogitations. The veteran alcayde, Mohammed ben 
 Hassan, noticed these desponding moods, and endeavored 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 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 283 
 
 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 be 
 held it one morning in universal commotion: there was an 
 unusual sound of hammers in every part, as if some new 
 engines of war were oonstructing. 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 edi 
 fices 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, thatched with straw. Thus, to the dismay of the Moors, 
 within four days the light tents and gay pavilions which had 
 whitened their hills and plains, passed away like summer 
 clouds ; and the unsubstantial camp assumed the solid appear 
 ance of a city laid out into streets and squares. In the centre 
 rose a large edifice which overlooked 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 
 dwellings, however, the Spanish cavaliers had not properly 
 considered 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 ramblas, 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 
 of water, which, tinkling down the bottoms of the deep bar 
 rancas or ravines, scarce feed and keep alive the rivers of the 
 valleys. The rivers, almost lost in their wide and naked beds, 
 seem like thirsty rills, winding in serpentine mazes through 
 desarts of sand and stones ; and so shallow and tranquil 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 suddenly filled 
 
 * Qura 4e los Palacios, Pwlgar, etc, 
 
284 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 with raging floods ; the tinkling rivulets swell to thundering 
 torrents, that come roaring down from the mountains, tum 
 bling great masses of rocks in their career. The late mean 
 dering river spreads over its once naked bed, lashes its surges 
 against the banks, and rushes like a wide and foaming inunda- 
 tipn 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, undermined 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 pro 
 duced 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 pro 
 vided against its recurrence. She dispatched six thousand 
 foot-soldiers, under the command of experienced officers, to re 
 pair the roads, and to make causeways and bridges, for the 
 distance of seven Spanish leagues. The troops, also, who had 
 been stationed in the mountains by the king to guard the de 
 files, 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 de 
 molished by the late floods were rebuilt in a firmer manner, 
 and precautions were taken to protect the camp from future 
 inundations. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 285 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 ENCOUNTERS BETWEEN THE CHRISTIANS AND MOORB, BEFORE 
 BAZA; AND THE DEVOTION OF THE INHABITANTS TO THE DE 
 FENCE OF THEIR CITY. 
 
 WHEN King Ferdinand beheld the ravage and confusion 
 produced by a single autumnal storm, and bethought him of 
 all the nlaladies to which a besieging camp is exposed in in 
 clement seasons, he began to feel his compassion kindling for 
 the suffering people of Baza, and an inclination to grant them 
 more favorable terms. He sent, therefore, several messages to 
 the alcayde Mohammed ben Hassan, offering liberty of person 
 and security of property for the inhabitants, and large rewards 
 for himself, if he would surrender the city. 
 
 The veteran Mohammed was not to be dazzled by the splen 
 did offers of the monarch; he had received exaggerated ac 
 counts of the damage done to the Christian camp by the late 
 storm, and of the sufferings and discontents of the army in 
 consequence of the transient interruption of supplies ; he con 
 sidered the overtures of Ferdinand as proofs of the desperate 
 state of his affairs. "A little more patience, a little more 
 patience," said the shrewd old warrior, " and we shall see this 
 cloud of Christian locusts driven away before the winter 
 storms. When they once turn their backs, it will be our turn 
 to strike; and with the help of Allah, the blow shall be de 
 cisive." He sent a firm though courteous refusal to the Casti- 
 lian monarch, and in the mean time animated his companions 
 to sally forth with more spirit than ever, to attack the Spanish 
 outposts and those laboring in the trenches. The consequence 
 was, a daily occurrence of the most daring and bloody skirm 
 ishes, that cost the lives of many of the bravest and most ad 
 venturous cavaliers of either army. 
 
 In one of these sallies, nearly three hundred horse and two 
 thousand foot mounted the heights behind the city, to capture 
 the Christians who were employed upon the works. They 
 came by surprise upon a body of guards, esquires of the count 
 de Urena, killed some, put the rest to flight, and pursued 
 them down the mountain, until they came in sight of a small 
 
286 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 count de Tendilla betook themselves to flight. 
 The brave count considered it less dangerous to fight than to 
 fly. 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, marshal 
 ling the troops which remained with them, they made a valiant 
 front to the Moors. 
 
 The infidels pressed them hard, and were gaining the ad 
 vantage, when Alonzo de Aguilar, hearing of the danger of his 
 brother Gonsalvo, flew to his assistance, accompanied by the 
 count of Urena and a body of their troops. A hot fight ensued, 
 from cliff to cliff and glen to glen. The Moors were fewer in 
 number, but they excelled in the dexterity and lightness re 
 quisite for their scrambling skirmishes. They were at length 
 driven from their vantage-ground, and pursued 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 not 
 withstanding repeated defeats and losses, continued to sally 
 forth daily, with astonishing spirit and vigor, and the obsti- 
 nacy 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 
 maintain 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 enjoyment of your homes 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, without your aid." 
 
 Upon this the citizens consulted together, and they collected 
 all their vessels of gold and silver, and brought them to Mo 
 hammed ben Hassan: "Take these," said they, "and coin 
 them, or sell them, or pledge them, for money wherewith to 
 
THto CONQUEST Of GRANADA. 287 
 
 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 put them in the hands of the veteran alcayde: 
 "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 fall, of what avail are ornaments to the captive?" 
 
 By these contributions was Mohammed enabled to pay the 
 soldiery, and to carry on the defence of the city with una 
 bated 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 dispair. 
 "They shall have a convincing proof of the fallacy of such 
 hopes," said the politic monarch: so he wrote forth 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. By this means, the Moors would be convinced 
 of the settled determination of the sovereigns to persist in the 
 siege until the city should surrender, and he trusted they 
 would be brought to speedy capitulation. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 HOW QUEEN ISABELLA ARRIVED AT THE CAMP, AND THE CONSE 
 QUENCES OF HER ARRIVAL. 
 
 MOHAMMED BEN HASSAN still encouraged his companions 
 with hopes that the royal army would soon relinquish the 
 siege; when they heard, one day, shouts of joy from the 
 Christian camp, and thundering salvos of artillery. Word was 
 brought, at the same time, from the sentinels on the watch- 
 towers, that a Christian army was approaching down the val 
 ley. Mohammed and his fellow-commanders ascended one of 
 the highest towers of the walls, and beheld in truth a num 
 erous force, in shining array, descending the hills, and heard 
 
288 & CON QU ESI OP GRANADA. 
 
 the distant clangor of the trumpet and the faint swell of 
 triumphant music. 
 
 As the host drew nearer, they descried a stately dame mag 
 nificently 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; and on her left, the venerable grand 
 cardinal of Spain. A noble train of ladies and cavaliers fol 
 lowed her, together with pages and esquires, and a numerous 
 guard of hidalgos of high rank, arrayed in superb armor. 
 When the veteran Mohammed ben Hassan beheld that this 
 was the queen Isabella, arriving in state to take up her resi 
 dence in the camp, his heart failed him; he shook his head 
 mournfully, and, turning to his captains, " Cavaliers," said he, 
 u 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 fall of their city. Some of the troops 
 would have sallied forth on 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 no 
 blest 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 tur- 
 baned heads gazing at the glorious spectacle. They beheld 
 king Ferdinand issue forth in royal state, attended by the 
 marques of Cadiz, the Master of Santiago, the duke of Alva the 
 admiral of Castile, and many other nobles of renown; wiiilethe 
 whole chivalry of the camp, sumptuously arrayed, followed in 
 his tram, and the populace rent the air with acclamations fit 
 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 martial 
 pomp; and the eyes of the infidel beholders were dazzled by 
 the flash of armor, the splendor of golden caparisons, the gor 
 geous display of silks and brocades and velvets, of tossing 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GUANADA. 289 
 
 plumes and fluttering banners. There was at the same time a 
 triumphant sound of drums and trumpets, clarion and sack- 
 buts, mingled with the sweet melody of the dulcimer, which 
 came swelling in bursts of harmony that seemed to rise up to 
 the heavens.* 
 
 On the arrival of the queen, (says the historian Hernando 
 del Ptilgar, who was present at the time,) it was marvellous to 
 behold how all at once the rigor and turbulence of war were 
 softened, and the storm of passion sunk into calm. The sword 
 was sheathed; the cross-bow no longer lanched its deadly 
 shafts ; and the artillery, which had hitherto kept up an inces 
 sant uproar, now ceased its thundering. 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 weary of exasperating the 
 enemy by an obstinate yet hopeless defence. 
 
 At the request of prince Cidi Yahye, a parley was granted, 
 and the Master commander of Leon, Don Gutiere de Cardenas, 
 was appointed to confer with the veteran alcayde Mohammed. 
 They met at an appointed place, within view of both camp and 
 city, honorably attended by cavaliers of cither army. Their 
 meeting was highly courteous, for they had learnt, from rough 
 encounters in the field, to admire each other s prowess. The 
 commander of Leon, in an earnest speech, pointed out the 
 hopelessness of any further defence, and warned Mohammed 
 of the ills which Malaga had incurred by its obstinacy, 
 promise, in the name of my sovereigns," said he, "that if you 
 surrender immediately, the inhabitants shall be treated as sub 
 jects, and protected in property, liberty, and religion. If you 
 refuse, you, who are now renowned as an able and judicious 
 commander, will be chargeable with the confiscations, cap 
 tivities, and deaths, which may be suffered by the people of 
 Baza." 
 
 The commander ceased, and Mohammed returned to the city 
 
 * Cura cle los Palacios. 
 
2QO TW VUXQUKiST Ob GRANADA. 
 
 to consult with his companions. It was evident that all fur 
 ther resistance was hopeless; but the Moorish commanders 
 felt that a cloud might rest upon upon their names, should 
 they, of their 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, 
 with a letter to the old monarch El Zagal, treating of the sur 
 render ; the request was granted, a safe-conduct assured tc the 
 envoy, and the veteran alcayde Mohammed ben Hassan de* 
 parted upon this momentous mission. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 SURRENDER OF BAZA. 
 
 THE old warrior king was seated in an inner chamber of the 
 castle of Guadix, much cast down in spirit, and ruminating on 
 his gloomy fortunes, when an envoy from Baza was an 
 nounced, and the veteran alcayde Mohammed stood befor^ 
 him. El Zagal saw disastrous tidings written in his counter . 
 ance: " How fares it with Baza?" said he, summoning up I i> 
 spirits to the question "Let this inform thee," replied Mo 
 hammed ; and he delivered into his hands the letter from the 
 prince Cidi Yahye. 
 
 This letter spoke of the desperate situation of Baza ; the im 
 possibility of holding out longer, without assistance from El 
 Zagal; and the favorable terms held out by the Castilian 
 sovereigns. Had it been written by any other person, El Za 
 gal might have received it with distrust and indignation ; but 
 he confided in Cidi Yahye ar in a second self, and the words of 
 his letter sunk deep in his heart. When he had finished read 
 ing it, he sighed deeply, and remained for some time lost in 
 thought, with his head drooping upon his bosom. Recovering 
 himself, at length, he called together the alfaquis and the old 
 men of Guadix, and, communicating the tidings from Baza, 
 solicited their 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 approaching. The alfaquis and the old men did 
 but increase the distraction of his mind by a variety of 
 
THE; CONQUEST Of GRANADA. 291 
 
 sel, none of which appeared of any avail ; for unless Baza were 
 succored, it was impossible that it should hold out ; and every 
 attempt to succor it had proved ineffectual. 
 
 El Zagal dismissed his council in despair, and summoned the 
 veteran Mohammed before him. "Allah Acbar!" exclaimed 
 he, "God is 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 performed deeds worthy of im 
 mortal 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 favorable 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 their 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 inhabitants 
 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 commander of Leon. 
 When Cidi Yahye and the alcayde Mohammed came to de 
 liver 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 magnifi 
 cent presents to be given to them, and likewise to the othei\ 
 Moorish cavaliers, consisting of money, robes, horses, and other 
 things of great value. 
 
 The prince Cidi Yahye was so captivated by the grace, the 
 .ignity, and generosity of Isabella, and the princely courtesy 
 o Ferdinand, that he vowed never again to draw his sword 
 
 gainst such magnanimous sovereigns. The queen, charmed 
 with his gallant bearing and his animated professions of devo* 
 tion, assured him, that, having him on her side, she already 
 considered the war terminated which had desolated the king 
 dom of Granada. 
 
 Mighty and irresistible are words of praise from the lips of 
 sovereigns. Cidi Yahye was entirely subdued by this fair 
 speech from the illustrious Isabella. His heart burned with a 
 
f3 THE CONQUEST OP GHAXADA. 
 
 sudden flame of loyalty towards the sovereigns. He begged 
 to be enrolled amongst the most devoted of their subjects; 
 cind, in the fervor of his sudden zeal, engaged not merely to 
 dedicate his sword to their service, but to exert all his influ 
 ence, which was great, in persuading his cousin, Muley Ab- 
 dalla el Zagal, 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 conversation with 
 the sovereigns, that it extended even to his religion; for he 
 became immediately enlightened as to the heathenish abomi 
 nations of the vile 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 occurrences of this holy war: " But it is 
 given to saints and pious monarchs," says he, "to work mira 
 cles in the cause of the faith ; 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 won 
 der of this miracle, by alluding to great revenues granted to 
 the prince and his heirs by the Castilian monarchs, together 
 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 conversion of his 
 proselyte. The policy of the Catholic monarch was at all 
 times equal to his piety. Instead also of vaunting of this 
 great conversion, and making a public parade of the entry of 
 the prince into the church, king Ferdinand ordered that the 
 baptism should be performed in private, and kept a profound 
 secret. He feared that Cidi Yahye might otherwise be de 
 nounced as an apostate, and abhorred and abandoned by the 
 Moors, and thus his influence destroyed in bringing the war to 
 a speedy termination.* 
 
 The veteran Mohammed ben Hassan was likewise won by 
 the magnanimity and munificence of the Castilian sovereigns, 
 and entreated to be received into their service; and his 
 example was followed by many other Moorish cavaliers, whose 
 services were generously accepted and magnificently rewarded. 
 
 * Conde, torn. 3, cap. 40. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 293 
 
 Thus, after a siege of six months and twenty days, the city 
 of Baza surrendered on the 4th of December, 1489; the festival 
 of the glorious Santa Barbara, who is said, in the Catholic 
 calendar, to preside over thunder and lightning, fire and gun 
 powder, and all kinds of combustions explosions. The king 
 and queen made their solemn and triumphant entry 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 his 
 torian Mariana) peculiarly uncomfortable ; but (adds the ven 
 erable 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 Almunecar, 
 Tavernas, and most of the fortresses of the Alpuxarra moun 
 tains; the inhabitants hoped, by prompt and voluntary sub 
 mission, to secure equally favorable terms with those granted 
 to the captured city, and the alcaydcs to receive similar re 
 wards to those lavished on its commanders ; nor were either of 
 them disappointed. The inhabitants were permitted to remain 
 as Mudexares, 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 favor, and rewarded with presents of 
 money in proportion to the importance of the places they had 
 commanded. Care was taken by the politic monarch, how 
 ever, not to wound their pride nor shock their delicacy; so 
 these sums were paid under color of arrears due to them for 
 their services to the former government. Ferdinand had con 
 quered by dint of sword, in the earlier part of the war; but he 
 found gold as potent as steel, 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, stern, and 
 melancholy aspect, and stood silent and apart, while his com 
 panions surrendered their several fortresses and retired laden 
 with treasure. When it came to his turn to speak, he ad 
 dressed the sovereigns with the frankness of a soldier, but with 
 a tone of dejection and despair. 
 
 "I am a Moor," said he, "and of Moorish lineage, and am 
 
294 # CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 alcayde of the fair towns and castles of Purchena and Paterna. 
 These were intrusted to me to defend ; but those who should 
 have stood by me have lost all strength and courage, and seek 
 only for security. These fortresses, therefore, most potent 
 sovereigns, are yours, whenever you will send to take possess 
 ion of them. " 
 
 Large sums of gold were immediately ordered by Ferdinand 
 to be delivered to the alcayde, as a recompense for so impor 
 tant a surrender. The Moor, however, put back the gift with 
 a firm and haughty demeanor: "I came 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 would have been the price at which I would 
 have sold my fortresses, and not the gold you offer me." 
 
 The Castilian monarchs 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 thee our regard?" "Yes," 
 replied the Moor ; " I have left behind me, in the towns and 
 valleys which I have surrendered, many of my unhappy 
 countrymen, with their wives and children, who cannot tear 
 themselves from their native abodes. Give me your royal 
 word that they shall be protected in the peaceable enjoyment 
 of their religion and their homes." "We promise it," said 
 Isabella; "they shall dwell in peace and security. But for 
 thyself what dost thou ask for thyself?" " Nothing," replied 
 Ali, "but permission to pass unmolested, with my horses and 
 effects into Africa. " 
 
 The Castilian monarchs would fain have forced upon him 
 gold and silver, and superb horses richly caparisoned, not as 
 rewards, but as marks of personal esteem ; but Ali Aben Fahai 
 declined all presents and distinctions, as if he thought it crimi 
 nal 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 received a royal passport, he gathered together his 
 horses and servants, his armor and weapons, and all his war 
 like effects; bade adieu to his weeping countrymen with a brow 
 stamped with anguish, but without shedding a tear; and, 
 mounting his Barbary steed, turned his back upon the delight 
 ful valleys of his conquered country, departing on his lonely 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GHANA DA. 295 
 
 way, to seek a soldier s fortune amidst the burning sands of 
 Africa.* 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 SUBMISSION OF EL ZAGAL TO THE CASTILIAN SOVEREIGNS. 
 
 EVIL tidings never fail by the way, through lack of messen 
 gers ; they are wafted on the wings of the wind, and it is as 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 prosperously upon him ; but every 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 do 
 mains, and added to the territories of the conquerors. Scarce 
 ly a remnant remained to him, except a tract of the Alpux- 
 arras, 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 
 \jhat stage of adversity, when a man s friends feel emboldened 
 to tell him hard truths, and to give him unpalatable 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 
 interests of the conquerors of his country, had hastened to 
 Guadix with all the fervor 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 faith and surren 
 der his possessions. 
 
 Cidi Yahye still bore the guise of a Moslem, for his conver 
 sion was as yet a secret. The stern 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 thanks to Allah 
 
 * Pulgar. Garibay, lib. 40, cap. 40. Cura de los Palacios. 
 
296 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 that amidst all his troubles he had still a friend and counsellor 
 on whom he might rely. 
 
 Cidi Yahye soon entered upon the real purpose of his mis 
 sion. He t represented to El Zagal the desperate state of affairs, 
 and the ir retriveable 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 pro 
 found and pious reverence, "such is the almighty will of 
 God!" 
 
 El Zagal listened to these words in mute attention, without 
 so much as moving a muscle of his face, or winking an eyelid. 
 When the prince had concluded, he remained for a long 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 Gra 
 nada, this arm and this scimitar would have maintained it." * 
 
 "What then remains," said Cidi Yahpe, "but to draw the 
 most advantage from the wreck of empire that is left you? To 
 persist in a war is to bring complete desolation upon the land, 
 and ruin and death upon its faithful inhabitants. Are you dis 
 posed to yield up your remaining towns to your nephew El 
 Chico, that they may augment his power, and derive protec 
 tion from his alliance with the Christian sovereigns ?" 
 
 The eye of El Zagal flashed fire at this suggestion. He 
 grasped the hilt of his scimitar, and gnashed his teeth in fury. 
 "Never," cried he, "will I make terms with that recreant and 
 slave ! Sooner would I see the banners of the Christian mon 
 archs floating above my walls, than that they should add to 
 the possessions of the vassal Boabdil !" 
 
 Cidi Yahpe immediately seized upon this idea, and urged El 
 Zagal to make a frank and entire surrender: " Trust," said he, 
 
 * Conde, torn. 3, c. 40. 
 
CONQUEST OF GRAXADA. 297 
 
 "to the magnanimity of the Castilian sovereigns; they will 
 doubtless grant you high and honorable terms. It is better to 
 yield to them as friends, what they must infallibly and before 
 long wrest from you as enemies ; for such, my cousin, is the 
 almighty will of God !" 
 
 "Alahuma subahana hul" repeated El Zagal, "the will of 
 God be done !" So the old monarch bowed his haughty neck, 
 and agreed to surrender his territories 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, as he expatiated 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 metro 
 polis to the Mediterranean sea, with their series of beautiful 
 valleys, like precious emeralds set in a golden chain. Above 
 all, there were Guadix and Almeria, two of the most inestim 
 able jewels in the crown of Granada. 
 
 In return for these possessions, and for the claim El 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 Andarax and the valley of Alhauriii in the 
 Alpuxarras, with half of the silinas or salt-pits of Maleha. He 
 was to enjoy the title of king of Andarax, with two thousand 
 Mudexares, or conquered Moors, for subjects; and his reven 
 ues were to be made up to the sum of four millions of mareve- 
 dies.* 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 a city of 
 Almeria. 
 
 On the 17th 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 valor. 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 inhabitants 
 on horseback. The fierce brow of El Zagal was clouded with 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios, cap. 94. 
 
298 THE CONQUEST OF OR AN AD A. 
 
 a kind of forced humility, but there was an impatient curl of 
 the lip, with now and then a swelling of the bosom and an 
 indignant breathing from the distended nostril. It was evi 
 dent 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 he approached the Chris 
 tian king, he alighted from his horse, and advanced to kiss his 
 hand in taken of homage. Ferdinand, however, respected the 
 title which the Moor had held, and would not permit the cere 
 mony ; 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 ad 
 herents, to seek his petty territory of Andarax, to bury his 
 humiliation from the world, and to console himself with the 
 shadowy title of king.f 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 EVENTS OF GRANADA, SUBSEQUENT TO THE SUBMISSION OF EL 
 
 ZAGAL. 
 
 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 Yusef Aben 
 Comixa, 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 defeated 
 and dethroned, and he reigned without a rival, sole monarch 
 of Granada. At length, he was about to enjoy the fruits 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 its stability. "Allah Ac- 
 bar!" exclaimed he, "God is great! Rejoice with me, oh 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios, cap. 93. t Piilgar, Garibay, &c., &c. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 299 
 
 Yusef; the stars have ceased their persecution. Henceforth 
 let no man call me El Zogoybi. " 
 
 In the first moment of his exultation, Boabdil would have 
 ordered public rejoicings; but the shrewd Yusef shook his 
 head. u The tempest has ceased," said he, "from one point of 
 the heavens, but it may begin to rage from another. A troub 
 led sea is beneath us, and we are surrounded by rocks and 
 quicksands: let my lord the king defer rejoicing until all has 
 settled into a calm." El Chico, however, could not remain 
 tranquil in this day of exultation : he ordered his steed to be 
 sumptuously caparisoned, 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 agi 
 tation; but, as he approached, what was his surprise to hear 
 groans and murmurs and bursts of execration! The tidings 
 had spread through Granada, that Muley Abdalla el Zagal had 
 been driven to capitulate, and that all 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 mon- 
 archs, scorning to compromise the dignity of his crown by any 
 act of vassalage. Boabdil, on the contrary, had looked on ex- 
 ultingly at the hopeless yet heroic struggle of his uncle ; he had 
 rejoiced in the defeat of the faithful, and the triumph of unbe 
 lievers ; he had aided in the dismemberment and downfall of 
 the empire. When they beheld him riding forth in gorgeous 
 state, on what they considered a day of humiliation for all true 
 Moslems, they could not contain their rage; and amidst the 
 clamors that met his ears, Boabdil more than once heard his 
 name coupled with the epithets of traitor and renegado. 
 
 Shocked and discomfited, the youthful monarch returned in 
 confusion to the Alhambra. He shut himself up within its in 
 nermost courts, and remained a kind of voluntary prisoner 
 until the first burst 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. 
 
300 THE CONQUEST 0& GKANADA. 
 
 The first missives from the politic Ferdinand showed Boabdil 
 the value of his friendship. The Catholic monarch reminded 
 him of a treaty which he 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 Alme- 
 ria, 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. Ferninand now informed him 
 that Gaudix, Baza and Almeria had fallen ; he called upon him, 
 therefore, to fulfil his engagement. 
 
 If the unfortunate Boabdil had possessed the Avill, he had not 
 the power to comply with this demand. He was shut up in the 
 Alhambra, while a tempest of popular fury raged without. 
 Granada was thronged by refuges from the captured towns, 
 many of them disbanded soldiers, and others broken-down 
 citizens, rendered fierce and desperate by ruin. All railed at 
 Boabdil, as the real cause of their misfortunes. 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 dan 
 ger 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 inhabitants, it would but be 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 re 
 cently taken refuge within its walls. If the inhabitants should 
 comply with this summons, he promised them the indulgent 
 terms Avhich had been granted to Baza, Guadix and Almeria ; 
 if they should refuse he threatened them with the fate of 
 Mnlaga.* 
 
 The message of the Catholic monarch produced the greatest 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios, cap. 96. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 301 
 
 commotion in the city. The inhabitants of the Alcaiceria, that 
 busy hive of traffic, and all others who had tasted the sweets of 
 gainful commerce during the late cessation of hostilities, were 
 for securing their golden advantages by timely submission: 
 others, who had wives and children, looked on them with ten 
 derness and solicitude, and dreaded, by resistance, to bring 
 upon them the horrors of slavery. 
 
 But, 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 hostilities, who had lived by the sword, and whom a 
 return of peace would leave without home or hope. Beside 
 these, there were others no less fiery and warlike in disposi 
 tion, but animated by a loftier spirit. These were valiant and 
 haughty cavaliers of the old chivalrous lineages, who had in 
 herited 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 Moor 
 ish grandeur and delight, should become the abode of unbe 
 lievers. 
 
 Among these cavaliers, the most eminent was Musa ben Abil 
 Gazan. He was of royal Jineage, of a proud and generous nat 
 ure, and a form combining manly strength and beauty. None 
 could excel him in the management of the horse, and dextrous 
 use of all kinds of weapons : his gracefulness and skill in the 
 tourney were 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 the timid policy of Boabdil, 
 and had endeavored to counteract its enervating effects, and to 
 keep alive the martial spirit of Granada. For this reason, he 
 had promoted jousts and tiltings with the reed, and all those 
 other public games which bear the semblance of war. He en 
 deavored also to inculcate into his companions in arms those 
 high chivalrous sentiments which lead to valiant and mag 
 nanimous deeds, but which are apt to decline with the inde 
 pendence of a nation. The generous efforts of Muza had been 
 in a great measure successful : he was the idol of the youthful 
 cavaliers; they regarded him as a mirror of chivalry, and 
 endeavored to imitate his lofty and heroic virtues. 
 
 When Muza heard the demand of Ferdinand that they should 
 deliver up their arms, his eye flashed fire : Does the Chris 
 tian king think that we are old men," said he "and that staffs 
 will suffice us? or that we are women and can be contented 
 
302 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 with distaffs? Let him know that a Moor is born to the spear 
 and scimitar ; to career the steed, bend the bow, and lanch the 
 javelin : deprive him of these, and you deprive him of his 
 nature. If the Christian king desires our arms, let him come 
 and win them ; but let him win them dearly. For my part, 
 sweeter were a grave beneath the walls of Granada, on the 
 spot I had died to defend, than the richest couch within her 
 palaces, earned by submission to the unbeliever. " 
 
 The words of Muza were received with enthusiastic shouts 
 by the warlike part of the populace. Granada once more 
 awoke, as a warrior shaking off a disgraceful lethargy. The 
 commanders and council partook of the public excitement, 
 and dispatched a reply to the Christian sovereigns, declaring 
 that they would suffer death rather than surrender their 
 city. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 HOW KING FERDINAND TURNED HIS HOSTILITIES AGAINST THE 
 C ITY OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 contented him 
 self, therefore, with throwing strong garrisons into all his 
 towns and fortresses in the neighborhood of Granada, and 
 gave the command of all the frontier of Jaen to Inigo Lopez 
 de Mendoza, count of Tendilla, who had shown such consum 
 mate vigilance and address in maintaining the dangerous 
 post of Alhama. This renowned veteran established his head 
 quarters in the mountain city of Alcala la Real, within eight 
 leagues of the city of Granada, and commanding the most 
 important passes of that rugged frontier. 
 
 In the mean time, the city of Granada resounded with the 
 stir of war. The chivalry of the nation had again control 
 of its councils ; and the populace, having once more resumed 
 their weapons, were anxious to wipe out the disgrace of their 
 late passive submission, by signal and daring exploits. 
 
 Muza ben Abil Gazan was the soul of action. He com 
 manded the cavalry, which he had disciplined with uncom- 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 303 
 
 mon skill: he was surrounded by the noblest youth of Gra 
 nada, who had caught his own generous and martial fire, 
 and panted for the field ; while the common soldiers, devoted 
 to his person, were ready to follow him in the most desper 
 ate enterprises. He did not allow their courage to cool for 
 want of action. The gates of Granada once more poured 
 forth legions of light scouring cavalry, which skirred the coun 
 try up to the very gates of the Christian fortresses, sweeping 
 off 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 su 
 perior lightness and dexterity of his cavalry gave him the 
 advantage. The sight of his glistening legion, returning across 
 the vega with long cavalgadas of booty, was hailed by the 
 Moors as a revival of their ancient triumphs ; but when they 
 beheld Christian banners borne into their gates as trophies, 
 the exultation of the light-minded populace was beyond all 
 bounds. 
 
 The winter passed away; the spring advanced, yet Ferdi 
 nand delayed to take the field. He knew the city of Gra 
 nada 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 pro 
 duce 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 borders 
 of the Xenel were covered with flocks and herds ; the bloom 
 ing orchards gave promise of abundant fruit, and the open 
 plain was waving with ripening corn. The time was at hand 
 to put in the sickle and reap the golden harvest, when sud 
 denly a torrent of war came sweeping down from the moun 
 tains; and Ferdinand, with an army of five thousand horse 
 and twenty thousand foot, appeared before the walls of Gra 
 nada. He had left the queen and princess at the fortress of 
 Moclin, and came attended by the duke of Medina Sidonia, 
 the marques of Cadiz, the marques de Villena, the counts of 
 Urefia and Cabra, 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 
 him the dignity of knighthood. As if to stimulate him to 
 
304 TUE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 enterprises, and 
 in the midst of that famous vega which had been the field of 
 so many chivalrous exploits. Above them shone resplendent 
 the red towers of the Alhambra, rising from amidst delicious 
 groves, with the standard of Mahomet waving defiance to the 
 Christian arms. 
 
 The duke of Medina Sidonia, and the valiant Roderigo Ponce 
 de Leon, marques of Cadiz, were sponsors; and all the chiv 
 alry of the camp was assembled on the occasion. The prince, 
 after he was knighted, bestowed the same honor on several 
 youthful cavaliers of high rank, just entering, like himself, 
 on the career of arms. 
 
 Ferdinand did not loiter, in carrying his desolating plans 
 into execution. He detached parties in every direction, to 
 lay waste the country, villages were sacked, burnt, and de 
 stroyed, and the lovely vega once more laid waste with fire 
 and sword. The ravage was carried so close to Granada, that 
 the city was wrapped in the smoke of its gardens and hamlets. 
 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. Tlie hapless 
 monarch smote his breast, as he looked down from his moun 
 tain palace on the desolation effected by his late ally. He 
 dared not even show himself in arms among the populace, for 
 they cursed him as the cause of the miseries once more brought 
 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 incessant sallies. He divided his cavalry into small 
 squadrons, each led by a daring commander. They were 
 taught to hover round the Christian camp ; to harass it from 
 various and opposite quarters, cutting off convoys and strag 
 gling detachments ; to waylay the army in its ravaging expe 
 ditions, lurking among rocks and passes of the mountains, or 
 in hollows and thickets of the plain, and practising a thousand 
 stratagems and surprises. 
 
 The Christian army had one day spread itself out rather 
 unguardedly, in its foraging about the vega. As the troops 
 commanded by the marques of Villena approached the skirts 
 of the mountains, they beheld a number of Moorish peasants 
 hastily driving a herd of cattle into a narrow glen. The sol- 
 
THE CONQUEST OP GRANADA. 305 
 
 diers, eager for booty, pressed in pursuit of them. 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 valiantly. The Moors had the van 
 tage-ground ; some showered darts and arrows from the cliffs 
 of the rocks, others fought hand to hand on the plain; while 
 their cavalry, rapid as lightning in their movements, carried 
 havoc and confusion into the midst of the Christian forces. 
 
 The marques de Villena, with his brother Don Alonzo de 
 Pacheco, at the first onset of the Moors, spurred into the hot 
 test of the fight. They had scarce entered, when Don Alonzo 
 was struck lifeless from his horse, before the eyes of his 
 brother. Estevan de Luzon, a gallant captain, fell fighting 
 bravely by the side of the marques, who remained, with 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 Ferdinand, seeing 
 that the Moors had the vantage-ground and that the Christians 
 were suffering severely, gave signal for retreat. The marques 
 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 val 
 iantly against six Moors. The marques 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 retreat 
 ing, rose in his stirrups, and, hurling his lance at the marques, 
 wounded him in the right arm and crippled him for life.* 
 
 Such was one of the many ambuscadoes concerted by Muza ; 
 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 ground ; 
 and that though the Christians generally appeared to have the 
 victory, they suffered the greatest loss ; for retreating was a 
 part of the Moorish system, by which they would draw their 
 
 * In consequence of this wound, the marques was ever after obliged to write his 
 Signature with his left hand, though capable of managing his lance with his right 
 The queen one day demanded 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 
 marques as an heroic example to the chivalry of the age.-Mariana, lib. 25. c. 15. 
 
Tllti GQJtQ&E&T OF GllANADA. 
 
 pursuers into confusion, and then turn upon them with a more 
 violent and fatal attack. He commanded his captains, there 
 fore, to decline all challenges to skirmish, and to pursue a sure 
 system of destruction, ravaging the country, and doing all 
 possible injury to the enemy, with slight risk to themselves. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 THE FATE OF THE CASTLE OF ROMA. 
 
 ABOUT two leagues from Granada, on an eminence com 
 manding an extensive view of the vega, stood the strong 
 Moorish castle of Roma, a great place of refuge and security. 
 Hither the neighboring peasantry drove their flocks and herds, 
 and hurried with their most precious effects, on the irruption 
 of a Christian . force ; and any foraging or skirmishing party 
 from Granada, on being intercepted in their return, threw 
 themselves into Roma, manned its embattled towers, and set 
 the enemy at defiance. The garrison were accustomed to 
 these sudden claims upon their protection; 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 cavaliers had 
 many a time reined in their panting steeds at the very en 
 trance of the barbacan, 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: turbans and Moorish weapons soon caught their 
 eyes ; and as the whole approached, they descried a drove of 
 cattle, urged on in great haste, and convoyed by one hundred 
 and fifty Moors, who led with them two Christian captives in 
 chains. 
 
 When the cavalgada had arrived near to the castle, a Moor 
 ish cavalier, of noble and commanding mien and splendid 
 attire, rode up- to the foot of the tower, and entreated admit 
 tance. Tie 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 overtaken 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRAKADA. 807 
 
 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 and bleating flocks and herds, with neighing and 
 stamping steeds, and with fierce-looking Moors from the moun 
 tains. The cavalier who had asked admission was the chief of 
 the party ; he was somewhat advanced in life, of a lofty and 
 gallant bearing, and had with him a son, a young man 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 distrib 
 uted themselves about the castle, to seek refreshment or re 
 pose. Suddenly a shout arose, that was echoed from court 
 yard, and hall, and battlement. The garrison, astonished and 
 bewildered, would have rushed to their arms, but found them 
 selves, almost before they could make resistance, completely 
 in the power of an enemy. 
 
 The pretended foraging party consisted of Mudexares, or 
 Moors tributary to the Christians ; and the commanders were 
 the prince Cidi Yahye, and his son Alnayer. They had hast 
 ened from the mountains with this small force, to aid the 
 Catholic sovereigns during the summer s campaign ; and they 
 had concerted to surprise this important castle, and present it 
 to King Ferdinand, as a gage of their faith, and the first fruits 
 of their devotion. 
 
 The polite monarch overwhelmed his new converts and allies 
 with favors and distinctions, in return for this important 
 acquisition; but he took care to despatch a strong force of 
 veteran and genuine Christian troops, to man the fortress. 
 
 As to the Moors who had composed the garrison, Cidi Yahye 
 remembered that they were his country -men, and could not 
 prevail upon himself to deliver them into Christian bondage. 
 He set them at liberty, and permitted them to repair to Gra 
 nada; "a proof," says the pious Agapida, "that his conver 
 sion 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 country 
 men ; 011 the contrary, the inhabitants of Granada, when they 
 learnt from the liberated garrison the stratagem by which 
 Roma had been captured, cursed Cidi Yahye for & traitor ; and 
 the garrison joined in the malediction, 
 
r,OS THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 But the indignation of the people of Granada was destined 
 to be aroused to tenfold violence. The old warrior Muley Ab- 
 dalla el Zagal had retired to his little mountain territory, and 
 for a short time endeavored to console himself with his petty 
 title of king of Andarax. He soon grew impatient, however, 
 of the quiet and inaction of his mimic kingdom. His fierce 
 spirit was exasperated by being shut up within such narrow 
 limits, and his hatred rose to downright fury against Boabdil, 
 whom he considered as the cause of his downfall. When 
 tidings were brought him that king Ferdinand was laying 
 waste the vega, 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 a vassal the 
 enemy of his faith and his nation, so that he might see Gra 
 nada wrested from the sway of his nephew. 
 
 In his blind passion, the old wrathful monarch injured his 
 cause, and strengthened the cause of his adversary. The 
 Moors of Granada had been clamorous in his praise, extoll 
 ing him as a victim to his patriotism, and had refused to 
 believe all reports of his patriotism, and had refused to be 
 lieve 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 kind of stigmas 
 upon his name. 
 
 Their next emotion, of course, was in favor of Boabdil. They 
 gathered under the walls of the Alhambra, and hailed him an 
 their only hope, as the sole dependence of the country. Boab 
 dil could scarcely believe his senses, when he heard his name 
 mingled with praises and greeted with acclamations. Encour 
 aged by this unexpected gleam of popularity, he ventured forth 
 from his retreat, and was 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 popu 
 lace could spare from uttering curses on El Zagal, was ex 
 pended in shouts in honor of El Chico. 
 
THE COXQU&ST 01< GUAM ADA. 3Q9 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 HOW BOABDIL EL CHICO TOOK THE FIELD; AND HIS EXPEDITION 
 AGAINST ALHENDIN. 
 
 FOR thirty days had the vega been overrun by the Christian 
 forces; and that vast plain, late so luxuriant and beautiful, 
 was one wide scene of desolation. The destroying army, hav 
 ing accomplished its task, passed over the ridge of Pinos and 
 wound up into the mountains, on the way 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 Chris 
 tian trumpet died away along the side of the mountain of El 
 vira, and not a hostile squadron was seen glistening on the 
 mournful fields of the vega. 
 
 The eyes of Boabdil el Chico were at length opened to the 
 real policy of king Ferdinand, and he saw that he had no 
 longer any thing to depend upon but the valor of his arm. No 
 time was to be lost in hastening to counteract the effect of the 
 late Christian ravage, and in opening the channel for distant 
 supplies to Granada. 
 
 Scarcely had the retiring squadrons of Ferdinand disap 
 peared among the mountains, when Boabdil buckled on his 
 armor, sallied forth from the Alhambra, and prepared to take 
 the field. When the populace beheld him actually in arms 
 against his late ally, feoth parties thronged with zeal to his 
 standard. The hardy inhabitants also of the Sierra Nevada, 
 or chain of snow-capped mountains which rise above Granada, 
 descended from 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 the colors and devices of the 
 most ancient Moorish families, 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 
 forth from the pates of Granada on martial enterprise. A few 
 leagues from the city, within full view of it, and at the en 
 trance of the Alpuxarra mountains, stood the powerful castle 
 of Alhendin. It was built on an eminence, rising from the 
 midst of a smrll town, and commanding a great part of the 
 
810 THE COSQUKS? OF GRANADA. 
 
 vega, and the main road to the rich valleys of the Alpuxarras. 
 The castle was commanded by a valiant Christian cavalier 
 named Mendo de Quexada, and garrisoned by two Lundred 
 and fifty men, all seasoned and experienced warriors. It was 
 a continual thorn in the side of Granada: the laborers of the 
 vega were swept off from their fields, by its hardy soldiers ; 
 convoys were cut off, in 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 
 Alhenclin. 
 
 It was against this important fortress, that EoaLdil led his 
 troops. For six days and nights, the fortress was closely be 
 sieged. The alcayde and his veteran garrison defended them 
 selves valiantly, but they were exhausted by fatigue and con 
 stant watchfulness ; for the Moors, being continually relieved 
 by fresh troops from Granada, kept up an unr emitted and vig 
 orous attack. Twice the barbacan 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 sufficient 
 to man the walls and gateway; and the brave alcayde was 
 compelled to retire, with, his surviving force, to the keep of 
 the castle, in which he continued to make desperate resistance. 
 
 The Moors now approached the foot of the tower, under 
 shelter of wooden screens 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 founda 
 tions, 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 cross-bows and arquebusses to defend the 
 workmen, and to drive the Christians from the wall ; while 
 the latter showered down stones, and darts, and melted pitch, 
 and flaming combustibles, on the miners. 
 
 The brave Mendo .de Quexada had cast many an anxious eye 
 across the vega, in hopes of seeing some Christian force hast 
 ening to his assistance. Not a gleam of spear or helm was to 
 be descried, for no one had dreamt of this sudden irruption 
 of the Moors. The alcayde beheld his bravest men dead or 
 wounded around him, while the remainder were sinking with 
 watchfulness and fatigue. In defiance of all opposition, the 
 Moors had accomplished their mine; the fire was brought be 
 fore the walls, that was to be applied to the stanchions, in case 
 
THE CONQUEST OP GRANADA. 31 1 
 
 the garrison persisted in defence. In a little while, the tower 
 would crumble beneath him, and be rent and hurled a ruin to 
 the plain. At the very last moment, the brave alcayde made 
 the signal of surrender. He marched forth with the remnant 
 of his veteran garrison, who were all made prisoners. Boabdil 
 immediately ordered the walls 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 led in de 
 jected convoy across the vega, when they heard a tremendous 
 crash behind them. They turned to look upon their late for 
 tress, but beheld nothing but a heap of tumbling ruins, and a 
 vast column of smoke and dust, where once had stood the lofty 
 tower of Alhendin. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 EXPLOIT OF THE COUNT DE TENDILLA. 
 
 BOABDIL EL CHICO followed up his success, by capturing the 
 two fortresses of Marchena and Buldy ; 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 armor, and hasten to the standard of the 
 faith. The tidings spread far and wide, that Boabdil el Chico 
 was once more in the field, and was victorious. The Moors of 
 various places, dazzled by this gleam of success, hastened to 
 throw off their sworn allegiance to the Castiliaii crown, and to 
 elevate the standard of Boabdil; and the youthful monarch 
 flattered himself that the whole kingdom was on the point of 
 returning to its allegiance. 
 
 The fiery cavaliers of Granada were eager to renew those 
 forays into the Christian lands, in which they had formerly 
 delighted. A number of them therefore concerted an irruption 
 to the north, into the territory of Jaen, to harass the country 
 ahout Quezada. They had heard of a rich convoy of merchants 
 and wealthy travellers, on the way to the city of Baza ; and 
 they anticipated a glorious conclusion to their foray, in cap 
 turing this convoy. 
 
 Assembling a number of horsemen, lightly armed and fleetly 
 
312 TIIE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 mountains, crossed the frontier with 
 out 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 
 Jaen was at this time under the command of 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 impregnable fortress, perched high among the 
 mountains, about six leagues from Granada, and dominating 
 all the frontier. From this cloud-capt hold among the rocks, 
 he kept an eagle eye upon Granada, and had his scouts and 
 spies in ail directions, so that a crow could not fly over the 
 border without his knowledge. His fortress was- a place of 
 refuge for the Christian captives who escaped by night from 
 the Moorish dungeons of Granada. Often, however, they mis 
 sed their way in the defiles of the mountains, 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 accidents, 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 surrounding 
 country. 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 bor 
 der !" was the cry. A Christian soldier, pale and emaciated, 
 and who still bore traces of the Moorish chains, was brought 
 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 ac 
 count of the fugitive, and questioned him minutely as to the 
 time of departure of the Moors, and the rapidity and direction 
 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 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 313 
 
 were always on the alert, and ready to take the field at a mo 
 ment s warning. Choosing one hundred and fifty lances, 
 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, but three leagues from 
 Granada, on the road by which the marauders would have to 
 return. In the mean time, he sent out scouts, to posts them 
 selves upon different heights, and look out for the approach of 
 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 returning from 
 his labor, or a solitary muleteer hastening towards Granada. 
 The cavaliers of the count began to grow restless and impatient ; 
 they feared that the enemy might have taken some other route, 
 or might have received intelligence of their ambuscade. They 
 urged the count to abandon the enterprise, and return to Alcala. 
 " We are here," said they, " almost at the gates of the Moorish 
 capital; our movements may have been descried, and, before 
 we are aware, Granada may pour forth its legions of swift 
 cavalry, and crush us with an overwhelming force." The 
 count de Tendilla, however, persisted in remaining until his 
 scouts should come in. About two hours before daybreak, 
 there were signal-fires on certain Moorish watch-towers 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 Baza. 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, finding themselves 
 so near to Granada, they fancied themselves in perfect security, 
 
314 THE CONQUEST OF Gil AX AD A. 
 
 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 were heard the plaint of some female captive bewailing 
 the jeopardy of her honor ; and the heavy sighing of the mer 
 chant 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 cav 
 aliers set up great shouts and cries, and charged furiously 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 desperately, and fell cov 
 ered with wounds. Thirty-six were killed, and fifty-five were 
 made prisoners; the rest, under cover of the darkness, made 
 their escape to the rocks and defiles of the mountains. 
 
 The good count unbound the prisoners, gladdening the hearts 
 of the merchants by restoring to them their merchandise. 
 To the female captives also he restored the jewels of which 
 they had been despoiled, excepting such as had been lost be 
 yond recovery. Forty-five saddle horses, of the choice Bar- 
 bary breed, remained as captured spoils of the Moors, together 
 with costly armor, and booty of various kinds. Having collec 
 ted every thing in haste, and arranged his cavalgada, the 
 count urged his way with all speed for Alca la Real, lest he 
 should be pursued and overtaken by the Moors of Granada. 
 As hie wound up the steep ascent to his mountain city, the 
 inhabitants poured forth to meet him with shouts of joy. His 
 triumph was doubly enhanced by being received at the gates 
 of the city by his wife, the daughter of the marques of Vil- 
 lena, 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. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 EXPEDITION OF BOABDIL EL CHICO AGAINST SALOBRENA EX 
 PLOIT OF HERNANDO PEREZ DEL PULGAR. 
 
 KING BOABDIL found that his diminished territory was too 
 closely dominated by Christian fortresses like Alcala la Real, 
 too strictly watched by vigilant alcayto like the count of. 
 
THE CONQUEST OP GRANADA. 315 
 
 Tendilla, to be able to maintain itself by internal resources. 
 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. He 
 felt the want of a sea-port, through which, as formerly, he 
 might keep open a communication with Africa, and obtain 
 reinforcements and supplies from beyond the sea. All the 
 ports and harbors 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 sea-port 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 situated on a rocky hill, dividing one of those 
 rich little vegas or plains which lie open to the Mediterranean, 
 but run like deep green bays into the stern bosoms of the moun 
 tains. The vega was covered with beautiful vegetation, with 
 rice and cotton, with groves of oranges, citrons, figs and mul 
 berries, 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 continually 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 Salobrena 
 reared its rugged back, nearly dividing the plain, and advanc 
 ing to the margin of the sea, with just a strip of sandy beach 
 at its foot, laved by the blue waves of the Mediterranean. 
 
 The town covered the ridge and sides of the rocky hill, and 
 was fortified by strong walls and towers ; while on the highest 
 and most precipitous part stood the citadel, a huge castle that 
 seemed to form a part of the living 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 been intrusted to the command 
 of Don Francisco Eamirez 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 Cor 
 dova, having left a valiant cavalier as alcayde of the place. 
 
 Boabdil el Chico had full information of the state of the gar* 
 
316 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 rison and the absence of its commander. Putting himself at 
 the head of a powerful force, therefore, he departed from Gra 
 nada, and made a rapid march through the mountains ; hop 
 ing, by this sudden move, to seize upon Salobrena before king 
 Ferdinand could come to its assistance. 
 
 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 trumpets, and beheld the 
 squadrons of their countrymen advancing across the vega, 
 their hearts yearned towards the standard of their nation and 
 their faith. A tumult arose in the place ; the populace shouted 
 the name of Boabdil el Chico, and, throwing open the gates, 
 admitted him within the walls. 
 
 The Christian garrison was too few in number to contend 
 for the possession of the town ; they retreated to the citadel, 
 and shut themselves within its massive walls, which were con 
 sidered impregnable. Here they maintained a desperate 
 defence, hoping to hold out until succor should arrive from the 
 neighboring fortresses. 
 
 The tidings that Salobrena was invested by the Moorish 
 king, spread along the sea-coast, and filled the Christians with 
 alarm. Don Francisco Enriquez, uncle of the king, com 
 manded the city of Velez Malaga, about twelve leagues distant, 
 but separated by ranges of those vast rocky mountains which 
 are piled along the Mediterranean, and tower in steep promon 
 tories and precipices above its waves. 
 
 Don Francisco summoned the alcaydes of his district to has 
 ten 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, surnamed " El de las 
 Hazanas," (he of the exploits,) the same who had signalized 
 himself in a foray, by elevating a handkerchief on a lance for a 
 banner, 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 speed for Salobrena. The march was 
 rugged and severe, climbing and descending immense moun 
 tains, and sometimes winding along the edge of giddy preci 
 pices, with the surges of the sea raging far below. When Don 
 Francisco arrived with his followers at the lofty promontory 
 that stretches along one side of the little vega of Salobrena, he 
 looked down 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 walls, showed that the town 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 317 
 
 was already in possession of the infidels. A solitary Christian 
 standard alone floated on the top of the castle-keep, showing 
 that the brave garrison were hemmed up in their rock-built 
 citadel. 
 
 Don Francisco found it impossible, with his small force, to 
 make any impression on the camp of the Moors, or to get to 
 the relief of the castle. He stationed his little band upon 
 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 neighborhood cheered the heart of the garrison, and 
 conveyed to them assurance of speedy succor from the king. 
 
 In the mean time, Fernando Perez del Pulgar, who always 
 burned to distinguish himself by bold and striking exploits, in 
 the course of a prowling expedition along the borders of the 
 Moorish camp, remarked a postern-gate of the castle, opening 
 upon the steep part of the rocky hill which looked towards the 
 mountains. 
 
 A sudden though flashed upon the daring mind of Pulgar: 
 " Who will follow my banner," said he, " and make a dash for 
 yonder postern?" 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 their way up to the gate, which was 
 eagerly thrown open to receive them ; and succeeded in mak 
 ing their way into the fortress, before the alarm of their 
 attempt had spread through the Moorish army. 
 
 The garrison was roused 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 
 in the idea that this additional number of warriors would 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 battlements, 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. They began to fear that all succor would arrive too 
 late, when one day they beheld a little squadron of vessels far 
 at sea, but standing towards the shore. There was some doubt 
 
318 THE CONQUEST OF OltANADA. 
 
 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 all haste by the gov 
 ernor of the fortress, Don Francisco Ramirez. The squadron 
 anchored at a steep rocky island, which rises from the very 
 margin of the smooth sandy beach, directly in front of the 
 rock of Salobrena, and stretches out into the sea. On this 
 island Ramirez landed his men, and was as strongly posted as 
 if in a fortress. His force was too scanty to attempt a battle, 
 but he assisted to harass and distract the besiegers. When 
 ever king Boabdil made an attack upon the fortress, his camp 
 was assailed on one side by the troops of Ramirez, who landed 
 from their island, and on another by those of Don Francisco 
 Enriquez, who swept down from their rock, while Fernando 
 del Pulgar kept up a fierce defence, from every tower and 
 battlement of the castle. 
 
 The attention of the Moorish king was diverted, also, for a 
 time, by an ineffectual attempt to relieve the little port of 
 Adra, which had recently declared in his favor, but which had 
 been recaptured for the Christians by Cidi Yahye and his son 
 Alnayar. Thus the unlucky Boadbil, bewildered on every 
 hand, lost all the advantage that he had gained by his rapid 
 march from Granada. While he was yet besieging the ob 
 stinate 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 
 should get between him and his capital. On his way back to 
 Granada, however, he in some sort consoled himself for his 
 late disappointment, by overrunning a part of the territories 
 and possessions lately assigned to his uncle El Zagal, and to 
 Cidi Yahye. He defeated their alcaydes, destroyed several of 
 their fortresses, burnt their villages, and leaving the country 
 behind him reeking and smoking with his vengeance, returned 
 with considerable booty, to repose himself within the walls of 
 the Alhambra. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 319 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 HOW KING FERDINAND TREATED THE PEOPLE OF GUADIX AND 
 HOW EL ZAGAL FINISHED HIS REGAL CAREER. 
 
 SCARCELY had Boabdil ensconced himself in his capital, when 
 king Ferdinand, at the head of seven thousand horse and 
 twenty thousand foot, again appeared in the vega. He had 
 set out in all haste from Cordova to the relief of Salobrena ; 
 but, hearing on his march that the siege was raised, he turned 
 with his army to make a second ravage round the walls of 
 devoted Granada. His present forage lasted fifteen days, in 
 the course of which every thing that had escaped his former 
 desolating visit was destroyed, and scarce a green thing or a 
 living animal was left on the face of the land. The Moors 
 sallied frequently, and fought desperately, in defence of their 
 fields, but the work of destruction was accomplished and 
 Granada, once the queen of gardens, was left surrounded by a 
 desert. 
 
 From hence Ferdinand marched to crush a conspiracy which 
 had lately manifested itself in the cities of Guadix, Baza, and 
 Almeria. These recently conquered places had 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 marques of Villena had received notice of 
 the conspiracy, and had suddenly thrown himself, with a 
 large force, into Guadix. Under pretence of making a review 
 of the inhabitants, he made them sally forth into the fields be 
 fore the city. When the whole Moorish population capable of 
 bearing arms was thus without the walls, he ordered the gates 
 to be closed. He then permitted them to enter, two by two 
 and three by three, and to take forth their wives, 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 ex 
 cluded 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 known.* 
 
 * Zurita, lib. 20, c. 85. Cura de los Palacios, c. 97. 
 
320 TUB CONQUEST OF QHANADA. 
 
 When 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 among them, 
 and implored permission to return to the city, and live peace 
 ably in their dwellings, as had been promised them in their 
 articles of capitulation. 
 
 King Ferdinand listened graciously to their complaints: 
 "My friends," said he, in reply, "I am informed that there 
 has been a conspiracy among you to kill my alcayde and gar 
 rison, and to take part with my enemy the king of Granada. 
 I shall make a thorough investigation of this conspiracy. 
 Those among you who shall be proved innocent shall be re 
 stored 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 you your choice, either to depart 
 at once without further question, going wherever you please, 
 and taking with you your families and effects, under an assur 
 ance of safety ; or to deliver up those who are guilty, not one 
 of whom, I give you my royal word, shall escape punishment." 
 
 When the people of Guadix heard these words, they com 
 muned among themselves; and as most of them (says the 
 worthy Agapida) were either culpable or feared to be con 
 sidered so, they accepted the alternative, and departed sorrow 
 fully, they and their wives and their little ones. "Thus," in 
 the words of that excellent and cotemporary historian, Andres 
 Bemaldez, commonly 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, ever since the time of Roderick 
 the Goth ; and this was one of the mysteries of our Lord, who 
 would not consent that the city should remain longer in the 
 power of the Moors:" a pious and sage remark, which is 
 quoted with peculiar approbation by the worthy Agapida. 
 
 King Ferdinand offered similar alternatives 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.* 
 
 * Garibay, lib. 13, cap. 39. Pulgar, part 3, cap. 132. 
 
THE COXQUEtiT OF GRANADA. 321 
 
 While Ferdinand was thus occupied at Guadix, dispensing 
 justice and mercy, and receiving cities in exchange, the old 
 monarch Muley Abdalla, surnamed El Zagal, appeared before 
 him. He was haggard with care, and almost crazed with pas 
 sion. He had found his little territory of Andarax, and his 
 two thousand subjects, as difficult to govern as had been the 
 distracted kingdom of Granada. The charm, which had 
 bound the Moors to him, was broken when he appeared in 
 arms under the banner of Ferdinand. He had returned from 
 his inglorious campaign with his petty army of two hundred 
 men, followed by the execrations of the people of Granada, 
 and the secret repining of those he had led into the field. No 
 sooner had his subjects heard of the successes of Boabdil el 
 Chico, than they had siezed their arms, assembled tumultu- 
 ously, declared for the young monarch, and threatened the life 
 of El Zagal.* 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. He now entreated 
 Ferdinand to purchase the towns and castles and other posses 
 sions which \iad 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 of him three-and-twenty towns and villages in 
 the valleys of Andarax and Alhaurin, for which he gave him 
 five millions of maravedies. El Zagal relinquished his right to 
 one half of the salinas or salt-pits of Maleha, in favor of his 
 brother-in-law Cidi Yahye. Having thus disposed of his petty 
 empire and possessions, he packed up all his treasure, of which 
 he had a great amount, and, followed by many Moorish fam 
 ilies, passed over to Africa, f 
 
 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 ambi 
 tion of the kind fated. to be blind to precept and example. 
 When he arrived in Africa, instead of meeting with kindness 
 and sympathy, he was seized and thrown into prison by the 
 king of Fez, as though he had been his vassal. He was ac 
 cused of being the cause of the dissensions and downfall of the 
 kingdom of Granada ; and the accusation being proved to the 
 satisfaction of the king of Fez, he condemned the unhappy El 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios, cap, 9T, t Conde, part 4, cap. 41, 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 Zagal to perpetual darkness. A basin of glowing copper was 
 passed before his eyes, which effectually destroyed his sight. 
 His wealth, which had prabably 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, upon the world. In this wretched condition, the 
 late Moorish monarch groped his way through the regions of 
 Tingitania, until he reached the city of Yelez de Gromera. The 
 king of Velez had formerly been his ally, and felt some move 
 ment 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 un tasted 
 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 Velez. He 
 wandered about blind and disconsolate, an object of mingled 
 scorn and pity, and bearing above his raiment a parchment, 
 on which was written in Arabic, "This is the unfortunate 
 king of Andalusia." * 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 PREPARATIONS OF GRANADA FOR A DESPERATE DEFENCE. 
 
 How is thy strength departed, oh Granada? how is thy 
 beauty withered and despoiled, oh city of groves and foun 
 tains ! The commerce that 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 tri 
 bute 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 from his lofty 
 balconies upon a naked waste, where once had extended the 
 blooming glories of the vega ! 
 
 Such is the lament of the Moorish writers, over the lament- 
 
 * Marmol, 4e Rebelione Maur. lib. 1, cap. 16. Padraza, Hist, Gmnat, part 8, Q, 4, 
 Hist, 4e OWsp&dog de 0ua.aix 7 Paza, cap, 1Q. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF OR AN AD A. 328 
 
 able state of Granada, which now remained a mere phantom 
 of its former greatness. The two ravages of the vega, follow 
 ing 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 the door. 
 
 During the winter season, king Ferdinand made diligent 
 preparations for the last campaign, that was to decide the 
 fate of Granada. As this war was waged purely for the pro 
 motion of the Christian faith, he thought it meet that its 
 enemies should bear the expenses. He levied, therefore, a 
 general contribution upon all the Jews throughout his king 
 dom, by synagogues and districts ; and obliged them to render 
 in the proceeds, at the city of Seville.* 
 
 On the llth 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 be a tedious 
 siege, requiring patience and vigilance rather than hardy 
 deeds of arms, contented themselves with sending their 
 vassals, while they staid at home, to attend to their domains. 
 Many cities furnished soldiers at their cost, and the king took 
 the field with an army of forty thousand infantry and ten 
 thousand horse. The principal captains who followed the 
 king in this campaign, were Roderigo Ponce de Leon, the 
 marques of Cadiz, the Master of Santiago, the marques of 
 Villena ; the counts of Tendilla, Cifuentes, Cabra, and Urena ; 
 and Don Alonzo de Aguilar. 
 
 Queen Isabella, accompanied by her son the Prince Juan, 
 and by the princesses Juana, 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 23d 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 
 
 * Garibay, lib. 18, c. 39. 
 
304 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 this formidable force, the harassed inhabitants turned pale 
 and even many of the warriors trembled ; for they felt that tho 
 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 honorable terms. 
 
 The Wazir of the city, Abul Casim Abdel Melic, 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 posses 
 sion of merchants and other rich inhabitants. " But of what 
 avail," said he, "is a supply for a few months, against the 
 sieges ^f the Castilian monarch, which are interminable?" 
 
 He produced, also, the lists of men capable of bearing arms. 
 "The number, "said he, "is great; but what can be expected 
 from mere citizen soldiers? They vaunt and menace, in time 
 of safety; none are so arrogant, when the enemy is at a dis 
 tancebut when the din of war thunders at their gates, they 
 hide themselves in terror." 
 
 When Muza heard these words, he rose with generous 
 warmth: " What reason have we," said he, " to despair? The 
 blood of those illustrious Moors, the 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 
 valor? 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 valiant veterans. Do we want 
 provisions? Our horses are fleet, and our horsemen daring in 
 the 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. " 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 825 
 
 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 ardor 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 in 
 sults 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 charge of the arms, and provisions, and the enroll 
 ing of the people. Muza was to command the cavalry, to 
 defend the gates, and to take the lead in all sallies and skir 
 mishes Nairn Reduan, and Muhamed Aben Zayde, were his ad 
 jutants, Abdel Kerim Zegri, and the other captains, were to 
 guard the walls; and the alcaydes cf the Alcazaba, and of 
 the Red Towers, had command of the fortresses. 
 
 Nothing now was heard but the din of arms, and the bustle 
 of preparation. The Moorish spirit, quick to catch fire, was 
 immediately in a flame ; and the populace, in the excitement 
 of the moment, set at nought the power of the Christians. 
 Muza was in all parts of the city, infusing his own generous 
 zeal into the bosoms of the soldiery. The young cavaliers 
 rallied round him as their model; the veteran warriors re 
 garded him with a soldier s admiration; the vulgar throng 
 followed him with shouts, and the helpless part of the inhabi 
 tants, the old men and the women, hailed him with blessings 
 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 completely 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 horsemen gathered within the gate, ready to lanch forth 
 like the bolt from the thunder-cloud. Muza made no empty 
 bravado nor haughty threat; he was more terrible in deeds 
 than in words, and executed daring exploits, beyond even the 
 
 * Conde, 
 
326 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 XLVI. 
 
 HOW KING FERDINAND CONDUCTED THE SIEGE CAUTIOUSLY; AND 
 HOW QUEEN ISABELLA ARRIVED AT THE CAMP. 
 
 THOUGH Granada was shorn of its glories, and nearly cut off 
 from all external aid, still its mighty castles and massive bul 
 warks seemed to set all attacks 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-born and high-bred chivalry, was here; 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 for 
 midable aspect in the hour of its despair. 
 
 Ferdinand saw that any attempt to subdue the city by main 
 force, would be perilous and bloody. Cautious in his policy, 
 and fond of conquests gained by art rather than valor, he 
 resorted to the plan which had been so successful with Baza, 
 and determined to reduce the place by famine. For this pm\ 
 pose, his armies penetrated into the very heart of the AL 
 puxarras, and ravaged the valleys, and sacked and burnt 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 Moore 
 became more daring, as their situation became more hopeless. 
 Never had Ferdinand experienced such vigorous sallies and 
 assaults. Muza, at the head of his cavalry, harassed the 
 borders of the camp, and even penetrated into the interior, 
 making sudden spoil and ravage, and leaving his course to be 
 traced by the slain and wounded. To protect his camp from 
 those assaults, Ferdinand fortified it with deep trenches 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 327 
 
 strong bulwarks. It was of a quadrangular 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 reduce 
 the besieged to despair, by showing the determination of the 
 sovereigns to reside in the camp until the city should surren 
 der. 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 the commanders vied 
 with each other, in the pomp and ceremony with which they 
 received her. Nothing was heard, from morning until night, 
 but shouts and acclamations, and bursts of martial music ; so 
 that it appeared to the Moors as if a continual festival and 
 triumph reigned in the Christian camp. 
 
 The arrival of the queen, however, and the menaced obstin 
 acy of the siege, had no effect in damping the fire of the Moor 
 ish chivalry. Muza inspired the youthful warriors with the 
 most devoted heroism: " We have nothing left to fight for, v 
 said he, but the ground we stand on ; when this is lost, we 
 cease to have a country and a name." 
 
 Finding the Christian king forbore to make an attack, Muza 
 incited his cavaliers to challenge the youthful chivalry of the 
 Christian army to single combat, or partial skirmishes. Scarce 
 a day passed without gallant conflicts of the kind, in sight of 
 the city and the camp. The combatants rivalled each other in 
 the splendor of their armor and array, as well as in the prow 
 ess of their deeds. Their contests were more like the stately 
 ceremonials of tilts and tournaments, than the rude conflicts 
 of the field. Ferdinand soon perceived that they animated th 
 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 stern policy of the Catholic sovereign bore hard upon 
 the generous spirits of either army, but roused the indignation 
 of the Moors, when they found that they were to be subdued 
 in this inglorious manner: "Of what avail," said they, "are 
 chivalry and heroic valor? the crafty monarch of the Chris 
 tians has no magnanimity in warfare ; he seeks to subdue us 
 through the weakness of our bodies, but shuns to encounter 
 the courage of our souls," 
 
328 THE COXQUM8T OF GRANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 OP THE INSOLENT DEFIANCE OF YARFE THE MOOR, AND THE 
 DARING EXPLOIT OF HERNAMDO PEREZ DEL PULGAR. 
 
 WHEN the Moorish knights beheld that all courteous chal 
 lenges 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, having his name inscribed upon it, or a label affixed 
 to it, containing some taunting defiance. These bravadoes 
 caused great irritation, but still the Spanish warriors were 
 restrained by the prohibition of the king. 
 
 Among the Moorish cavaliers was one named Yarfe, re 
 nowned for his great strength and daring spirit ; but whose 
 courage partook of fierce audacity, rather than chivalric hero 
 ism. In one of these sallies, when they were skirting the 
 Christian camp, this arrogant Moor outstripped his compan 
 ions, overleaped the barriers, and, galloping close to the royal 
 quarters, launched his lance so far within, that it remained 
 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 in 
 tended for the queen. 
 
 Nothing could equal the indignation of the Christian war - 
 riors, at the insolence of the bravado, and the discourteous 
 insult offered to the queen. Hernando Perez del Palgar, sur- 
 named "he of the exploits," was present, and resolved not to 
 be outbraved by this daring infidel: "Who will stand by me," 
 said he, " in an enterprise of desperate peril?" The Christian 
 cavaliers well knew the harebrained valor of Hernando del 
 Pulgar, yet not one hesitated to step forward. He chose 
 fifteen companions, all men of powerful arm and dauntless 
 heart. 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 foot-soldiers. The guards, little thinking of such 
 
TllE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 329 
 
 an unwonted and partial attack, were for the most part asleep. 
 The gate was forced, and a confused and chance-medley skir 
 mish ensued : Hernando del Pulgar stopped not to take part 
 in the affray : 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 
 testimonial of the ceremony, he took a tablet which he had 
 brought with him, on which was inscribed in large characters, 
 " AVE MARIA," 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 galloping from 
 the interior of the city. Hernando del Pulgar overturned 
 some, cut down others, rejoined his companions, who still 
 maintained possession of the gate by dint of hard fighting, and 
 all made good their retreat to the camp. The Moors were at 
 a loss to imagine the meaning of this wild and apparently 
 fruitless assault; but great was their exasperation, on the 
 following day, when the trophy of hardihood and prowess, 
 the " AVE MARIA," was discovered thus elevated in bravado 
 in the very centre of the city. The mosque thus boldly sancti 
 fied by Hernando del Pulgar was actually consecrated into a 
 cathedral, after the capture of Granada.* 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 HOW QUEEN ISABELLA TOOK A VIEW OF THE CITY OF GRANADA 
 AND HOW HER CURIOSITY COST THE LIVES OF MANY CHRIS 
 TIANS AND MOORS. 
 
 THE royal encampment lay at such a distance from Gran 
 ada, that the general aspect of the city only could be seen, as 
 
 * In commemoration of this daring feat, the emperor Charles V., in after years 
 conferred on Pulgar and his descendants the right of sepulture in that church, and 
 the privilege of sitting in the choir during high mass. This Hernando Perez del 
 Pulgar was a man of letters, as well as arms, and inscribed to Charles V. a sum 
 mary of the achievements of Gonsalvo of Cordova, surnamed the great captain, 
 who had been one of his comrades in arms. He is often confounded with Hernando 
 del Pulgar, historian and secretary to queen Isabella. See note to Pulgar s Chron. 
 of the Catholic Sovereigns, part 3, c. iii. edit, Valencia, 178& 
 
330 T1TK CONQVMRT OF GftANAfiA. 
 
 it rose gracefully from the vega, covering the sides of the hiQs 
 with palaces and towers. Queen Isabella had expressed an 
 earnest desire to behold, nearer at hand, a city whose beauty 
 was so renowned throughout the world ; and the marques of 
 Cadiz, with the accustomed courtesy, prepared a great mili 
 tary escort and guard, to protect the queen and the ladies of 
 the court, while they enjoyed this perilous gratification. 
 
 It was on the morning after the events recorded in the pre 
 ceding chapter, that a magnificent and powerful train issued 
 forth from the Christian camp. The advanced guard was com 
 posed of legions of cavalry, heavily armed, that looked like 
 moving masses of polished steel. Then came the king and 
 queen, with the prince and princess, and the ladies of the 
 court, surrounded by the royal body-guard, sumptuously ar 
 rayed, 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 admiration 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 banner 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 mountain to the left of Granada, and command 
 ing a view of the Alhambra, and the most beautiful quarter of 
 the city. As they approached the hamlet, the marques of Vil- 
 lena, the count Urena, and Don Alonzo de Aguilar, filed off 
 with their battalions, and were soon seen glittering along the 
 side of the mountain above the village. In the mean time, the 
 marques of Cadiz, the count de Tendilla, the count de Cabra, 
 and Don Alonzo Fernandez, Senior of Alcandrete and Monte- 
 mayor, drew up their forces in battle array on the plain below 
 the hamlet, presenting a living barrier of loyal chivalry be 
 tween the sovereigns and the city. 
 
 Thus securely guarded, the royal party alighted, and, enter 
 ing one of the houses of the hamlet, which had been prepared 
 for their reception, enjoyed a full view of the city from its ter 
 raced roof. The ladies of the court gazed with delight at the 
 red towers of the Alhambra, rising from amidst shady groves, 
 anticipating the time when the Catholic sovereigns should bo 
 enthroned within its walls, and its courts shine with the splen- 
 
THE COXQUtiST OF GRANADA. 
 
 dor of Spanish chivalry. "The reverend prelates and holy 
 friars, who always surrounded the queen, looked with sereae 
 satisfaction," says Fray Antonio Agapida, "at this modern 
 Babylon, enjoying the triumph that awaited them, when those 
 mosques and minarets should be converted into churches, and 
 goodly priests and bishops should succeed to the infidel alfa 
 quis." 
 
 When the Moors beheld the Christians thus drawn forth in 
 full array in the plain, they supposed it was to offer them bat 
 tle ; and they hesitated not to accept it. In a little while, the 
 queen beheld a body of Moorish cavalry pouring into the vega, 
 the riders managing their fleet and fiery steeds with admirable 
 address. They were richly armed, and clothed in the most 
 brilliant colors, and the caparisons of their steeds flamed with 
 gold and embroidery. This was the favorite squadron of 
 Muza, composed of the flower of the youthful cavaliers of 
 Granada. Others succeeded, some heavily armed, some a la 
 ginete with lance and buckler; and lastly came the legions of 
 foot-soldiers, with arquebuss and cross-bow, and spear and 
 scimitar. 
 
 When the queen saw this army issuing from the city, she 
 sent to the marques of Cadiz, and forbade any attack upon the 
 enemy, or the acceptance of any challenge to a skirmish ; for 
 she was loth that her curiosity should cost the life of a single 
 human being. 
 
 The marques promised to obey, though sorely against his 
 will ; and it grieved the spirit of the Spanish cavaliers, to be 
 obliged to remain with sheathed swords while bearded by the 
 foe. The Moors could not comprehend the meaning of this 
 inaction of the Christians, after having apparently invited a 
 battle. They sallied several times from their ranks, and ap 
 proached near enough to discharge their arrows; but the 
 Christians were immovable. Many of the Moorish horsemen 
 galloped close to the Christian ranks, brandishing their lances 
 and scimitars, and defying various cavaliers to single combat ; 
 but king Ferdinand had rigorously prohibited all duels of the 
 kind, and they dared not transgress 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 
 
332 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 was more robust and brawny than was common with his coun 
 trymen. His visor was closed ; he bore a huge buckler and a 
 ponderous lance; his scimitar 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 Yarfe, the most in 
 solent, yet valiant, of the Moslem warriors the same who had 
 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 distended nostrilj 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 Hernando 
 Perez del Pulgar had afiixed to the door of the mosque ! A 
 burst of horror and indignation broke forth from the army. 
 Hernando del Pulgar was not at hand to maintain his previous 
 achievement ; but one of his young companions in arms, Gar- 
 cilasso de la Vega by name, putting spurs to his horse, gal 
 loped to the hamlet of Zubia, threw himself on his knees 
 before the king, and besought permission to accept the defi 
 ance of this insolent infidel, and to revenge the insult offered 
 to our blessed Lady. The request was too pious to be refused : 
 Garcilasso remounted his steed ; he closed his helmet, graced 
 by four sable plumes, grasped his buckler of Flemish work 
 manship, and his lance of matchless temper, and defied the 
 haughty Moor in the midst of his career. A combat took 
 place in view of the two armies and of the Castilian court. 
 The Moor was powerful in wielding his weapons, and dex 
 terous in managing his steed. He was of larger frame than 
 Garcilasso, and more completely armed; and the Christians 
 trembled for their champion. The shock of their encounter 
 was dreadful ; their lances were shivered, and sent up splinters 
 in the air. Garcilasso was thrown back in the saddle his 
 horse made a wide career, before he could recover, gather up 
 the reins, and return to the conflict. They now encountered 
 each other with swords. The Moor circled round his opponent, 
 as hawk circles whereabout 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 knight must 
 sink beneath his flashing scimitar. But if Garcilasso were in 
 ferior to him in power, he was superior in agility : many of his 
 blows he parried ; others he received upon his Flemish shield, 
 which was proof against the Damascus blade- The blood 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 333 
 
 streamed from numerous wounds received by either warrior. 
 The Moor, seeing his antagonist exhausted, availed himself of 
 his superior force, and, grappling, endeavored to wrest him 
 from his saddle. They both fell to earth ; the Moor placed his 
 knee upon the breast of his victim, and, brandishing his dag 
 ger, aimed a blow at his throat. A cry of despair was uttered 
 by the Christian warriors, when suddenly they beheld the 
 Moor rolling lifeless in the dust. . Garcilasso had shortened his 
 sword, and, as his adversary raised his arm to strike, had 
 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." 
 
 The 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 
 MARIA" from its^degrading situation, he elevated it on the 
 point of his sword, and bore it off 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 ord 
 nance to open a fire upon the Christians. A confusion was 
 produced in one part of their ranks : Muza called to the chiefs 
 of the army, "Let us waste no more time in empty challenges 
 let us charge upon the enemy : he who assaults has always an 
 advantage in the combat." So saying, he rushed forward, fol 
 lowed by a large body of horse and foot, and charged so furi 
 ously upon the advance guard of the Christians, that he drove 
 it in upon the battalion of the marques of Cadiz. 
 
 The gallant marques now considered himself absolved 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 ex 
 ample, 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 im 
 plored the holy virgin to protect her faithful warriors. The 
 prince and princess, the ladies of the court, and the prelates 
 and friars who were present, did the same ; and the effect of 
 the prayers of these illustrious and saintly persons, was im- 
 
334 THS CONQUEST OP GEAXAVA. 
 
 mediately 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 en 
 deavored to rally them. Some took refuge in the mountains-, 
 but the greater part fled to the city, in such confusion that 
 they overturned and trampled upon each other. The Chris 
 tians pursued them to the very gates. Upwards of two thou 
 sand were either killed, wounded, or taken prisoners ; and the 
 two pieces of ordnance were brought off, as trophies of the vic 
 tory. Not a Christian lance but was bathed that day in the 
 blood of an infidel.* 
 
 Such was the brief but bloody action, which was known 
 among the Christian warriors by the name of "the queen s 
 skirmish; for when the marques of Cadiz waited upon her 
 majesty to apologize for breaking her commands, he attri 
 buted the victory entirely to her presence^ The queen, how 
 ever, insisted that it was all owing to her troops being led on 
 by so valiant a commander. Her majesty had not yet re 
 covered from her agitation at beholding so terrible a scene of 
 bloodshed; though certain veterans present pronounced it as 
 gay and gentle a skirmish as they had ever witnessed. 
 
 To commemorate this victory, the queen afterwards erected 
 a monastery in this village of Zubia, dedicated to St. Fran 
 Cisco, which still exists ; and in its garden is a laurel, planted 
 by the hands of her majesty. f 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios. 
 
 t The house from whence the king and queen contemplated the battle, is likewise 
 to be seen at the present day. It is in the first street to the right, on entering the 
 village from the vega; and the royal arms are painted on the ceilings. It is in 
 habited by a worthy farmer, Francisco Garcia, who, in showing the house, refuses 
 all compensation, with true Spanish pride; offering, on the contrary, the hospi 
 talities of his mansion to the stranger. His children are versed in the old Spanish 
 ballads, about the exploits of Hernando Perez del Pulgar and Garcilasso de la 
 Vega. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 CONFLAGRATION OF THE CHRISTIAN CAMP. 
 
 THE ravages of war had as yet spared a little portion of the 
 vega of Granada. A green belt of gardens and orchards still 
 flourished round the city, extending along the hanks of the 
 Xenel 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 de 
 termined to make a final and exterminating ravage to the very 
 walls of the 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 the 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 various 
 tents of the royal family and the attendant nobles, were 
 adorned with rich hangings, and sumptuous devices, and costly 
 furniture ; forming, as it were, a little city of silk and brocade, 
 where the pinnacles of pavilions of various gay colors, sur 
 mounted with waving standards and fluttering pennons, might 
 vie with the domes and minarets of the capital they were be 
 sieging. 
 
 In the midst of this little gaudy metropolis, the lofty tent of 
 the queen domineered over the rest like a stately palace. The 
 marques of Cadiz had courteously surrendered his own tent to 
 the queen : it was the most complete and sumptuous in Chris 
 tendom, and had been carried about with him throughout the 
 war. In the centre rose a stately alfaneque or pavilion in ori 
 ental taste, the rich hangings being supported by columns of 
 lances and ornamented with martial devices. This central pa 
 vilion, or silken tower, was surrounded by other compartments, 
 some of painted linen lined with silk, and all separated from 
 each other by curtains. It was one of those camp palaces 
 which are raised and demolished in an instant, like the city of 
 canvas that surrounds them. 
 
 As the evening advanced, the bustle in the camp subsided. 
 Every one sought repose, preparatory to the next day s trial. 
 The king retired early, that he might be up with the crowing 
 
336 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 suffocating smoke. In an in 
 stant, the whole tent was in a blaze : there was a high gusty 
 wind, which whirled the light flames from tent to tent, and 
 wrapped the whole 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 at the first alarm, and fancying it an assault of the enemy, 
 he had seized his sword and buckler, and sallied forth un 
 dressed, with his cuirass upon his arm. 
 
 The late gorgeous camp was now a scene of wild confusion. 
 The flames kept spreading from one pavilion to another, glar 
 ing upon the rich armor, and golden and silver vessels, which 
 seemed melting in the fervent heat. Many of the soldiers had 
 erected booths and bowers of brances, which, being dry, crack 
 led 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 dis 
 tracted hurry about the camp of men half armed. The prince 
 Juan had been snatched out of bed by an attendant, and con 
 veyed 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 cousin Don Alonzo de Montemagor, 
 and formed 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 they might take advantage of it to as 
 sault the camp. The marques of Cadiz, therefore, sallied forth 
 with three thousand horse to check any advance from the city. 
 As they passed along, the whole camp was a scene of hurry 
 and consternation some hastening to their posts, at the call of 
 drum and trumpet ; some attempting to save rich effects and 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 337 
 
 glittering armor from the tents, others dragging along terrified 
 and restive horses. 
 
 When they emerged from the camp, they found the whole 
 firmament illuminated. 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 every bat 
 tlement and tower. Turbaned heads were seen gazing from 
 every roof, and armor gleamed along the walls ; yet not a sin 
 gle warrior salh ed 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 
 f aded from sight ; all again became dark and quiet, and the 
 marques of Cadiz returned with his cavalry to the camp. 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 THE LAST RAVAGE BEFORE GRANADA. 
 
 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 corselets 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 armor of the luxurious 
 nobles. The fire at first had been attributed to treachery, but 
 on investigation it proved to be entirely accidental. The 
 queen, on retiring to her prayers, had Ordered her lady in at 
 tendance 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, 
 which being blown against it by a gust of wind, immediately 
 took fire. 
 
 The wary Ferdinand knew the sanguine temperament of the 
 Moors, and hastened to prevent their deriving confidence from 
 the night s disaster. At break of day, the drums and trum 
 pets 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 melody, as though 
 the preceding night had been a time of high festivity, instead 
 of terror. 
 
338 THE VO&QVEtiT OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 
 roass. 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, when they beheld the Christiam 
 army advancing towards their walls. They considered it a 
 feint, to cover their desperate situation and prepare for a re 
 treat. Boabdil el Chico had one of his impulses of valor he 
 determined 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 orchards, when Boabdil sallied 
 forth, surrounded by all that was left of the flower and chiv 
 alry of Granada. There is one place where even the coward 
 becomes brave that sacred spot called home. What then 
 must have been the valor of the Moors, a people always of 
 fiery spirit, when the war was thus brought to their thresholds ! 
 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 ; for all Granada, crowded on tower 
 and battlement, watched with trembling heart the fate of this 
 eventful day. 
 
 There 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, with an agony of grief and 
 valor, by the Moors ; every inch of ground that the Christians 
 advanced, they valiantly maintained ; but never did they ad 
 vance with severer fighting, or greater loss of blood. 
 
 The cavalry of Muza was in every part of the field ; wherever 
 it came, it gave fresh ardor to the fight. The Moorish soldier, 
 fainting with heat, fatigue, and wounds, was roused to new 
 life at the approach of Muza ; and even he who lay gasping in 
 the. agonies of death, turned his face towards him, and faintly 
 uttered cheers and blessings as he passed. 
 
 The Christians had by this time gained possession of various 
 towers near the city, from whence they had been annoyed by 
 cross-bows and arquebusses. The Moors, scattered in various 
 actions, were severely pressed. Boabdil, at the head of the 
 cavaliers of his guard, displayed the utmost valor, mingling in 
 the fight in various parts of the field, and endeavoring to in- 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 339 
 
 spirit the foot-soldiers in the combat. But the Moorish infan 
 try was never to be depended upon. In the heat of the action, 
 a panic seized upon them; they 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, wheeling round, Avith his followers, they 
 threw the reins on the necks of their fleet steeds, and took 
 refuge by dint of hoof within the walls of the city.* 
 
 Muza endeavored to retrieve the fortune of the field. He 
 threw himself before the retreating infantry, calling upon them 
 to turn and fight for their homes, their families, for every 
 thing 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 would fain have kept the field with his 
 cavalry ; but this devoted band, having stood the brunt of war 
 throughout this desperate campaign, was fearfully reduced in 
 numbers, and many of the survivors were crippled and enfee 
 bled by their wounds. Slowly and reluctantly Muza retreated 
 to the city, his bosom swelling with indignation 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 fur 
 ther confidence in the archers and arquebusiers who were sta 
 tioned to defend them, and he vowed never more to sally forth 
 with foot-soldiers to the field. 
 
 In the mean time the artillery thundered from the walls, and 
 checked all further advances of the Christians. King Ferdi 
 nand, therefore, called off his troops, and returned in triumph 
 to the ruins of his camp, leaving the beautiful city of Granada 
 wrapped 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 favorite city. The French ambassador, who witnessed 
 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 his 
 tory, of the most persevering resolution. For nearly ten years 
 had the war endured an almost uninterrupted series of disas 
 ters 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 victor- 
 
 * Zurita. lib. 20. c. 8R 
 
340 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA 
 
 ies. Wherever they could plant foot to fight, or find wall or 
 cliff from whence to lanch an arrow, they disputed their be 
 loved country ; and now, when their capital was cut off from 
 all relief, and had a whole nation thundering at his gates, they 
 still maintained defence, as if they hoped some miracle to inter 
 pose in their behalf. Their obstinate resistance (says an an 
 cient chronicler) shows the grief with which the Moors yielded 
 up the vega, which was to them a paradise and heaven. Ex 
 erting all the strength of their arms, they embraced, as it were, 
 that most beloved soil, from which neither wounds, nor -de 
 feat, nor death itself, could part them. They stood firm, bat 
 tling for it with the united force of love and grief, never draw 
 ing back the foot while they had hands to fight, or fortune to 
 befriend them.* 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 BUILDING OF THE CITY OF SANTA FE DESPAIR OF THE MOORS. 
 
 THE Moors now shut themselves up gloomily within their 
 walls ; there were no longer any daring sallies from their gates ; 
 and even the martial clangor of the drum and trumpet, which 
 had continually resounded within that warrior city, was now 
 seldom heard from its battlements. V or a time, they flattered 
 themselves with hopes that the late conflagration 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 en 
 dure until the surrender of Granada. Nine of the principal 
 cities of Spain were charged with the stupendous undertaking ; 
 and they emulated each other, with a zeal worthy of the cause. 
 "It verily seems," says Fray Antonio Agapida, "as though 
 some miracle operated to aid this pious work, so rapidly did 
 arise a formidable city, with solid edifices, and powerful walls, 
 and mighty towers, where lately had been seen nothing but 
 
 * Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, R. 30, c. 3. 
 

 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 341 
 
 tents and light pavilions. The city was traversed by two prin 
 cipal streets in form of a cross, terminating in four gates facing 
 the four 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 na 
 tion; " but that pious princess," adds Antonio Agapida, " call 
 ing 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 re 
 mains 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 place, while 
 unhappy Granada remained shut up and desolute. 
 
 In the mean time, the besieged city began to suffer 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 marques 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 
 destitute of provisions. The people sank into deep despon 
 dency. They called to mind all that had been predicted by 
 astrologers 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 without, 
 and by the clamors of his starving people. He summoned a 
 council, composed of the principal officers of the army, the 
 alcaydes of the fortresses, the xequis or sages of the city, and 
 the alfaquis or doctors of the faith. They assembled in the 
 great hall of audience of the Alhambra, and despair wag 
 painted in their countenances. Boabdil demanded of them, 
 what was to be done in their present extremity; and their 
 answer was, "Surrender." The venerable Abul Cazin Abdel 
 Melic, governor of the city, represented its unhappy state: 
 " Our granaries are nearly exhausted, and no further supplies 
 are to be expected. The provender for the war-horses is re 
 quired as sustenance for the soldiery ; the very horses them 
 selves are killed for food ; of seven thousand steeds which once 
 
342 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 could be sent into the field, three hundred only remain. Our 
 city contains two hundred thousand inhabitants, old and 
 young, with each a mouth that calls piteously for bread." 
 
 The xequis and principal citizens declared that the people 
 could no longer sustain the labors and sufferings of a defence : 
 "And of what avail is our defence," said they, "when the 
 enemy is determined to persist in the siege? what alternative 
 remains, but to surrender or to die?" 
 
 The heart of Boabdil was touched by this appeal, and he 
 maintained a gloomy silence. He had cherished some faint 
 hope of relief from the soldan of Egypt or the Barbary pow 
 ers : but it was now at an end ; even if such assistance were to 
 be sent, he had no longer a sea-port 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 surrender. 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 victories 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 surrender !" 
 
 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 ar 
 rived at that state of public depression, when heroes and hero 
 ism 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 tho Chris 
 tian sovereigns; and the venerable Abul Cazim Abdul Melic 
 was sent forth to the camp, empowered to treat for terms. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF QliANAVA. 343 
 
 CHAPTER LIT. 
 
 CAPITULATION OP GRANADA. 
 
 THE old governor, Abul Cazim Abdel Melic, was received 
 with great distinction by Ferdinand and Isabella, who ap 
 pointed Gonsalvo of Cordova and Fernando de Zafra, secre 
 tary to the king, to confer with him. All Granada awaited, 
 in trembling anxiety, the result of his negotiations. After re 
 peated conferences, he at length returned with the ultimate 
 terms of the Catholic sovereigns. They agreed to suspend all 
 attack for seventy days, at the end of which time, if no succor 
 should arrive to the Moorish king, the city of Granada was to 
 be surrendered. 
 
 All Christian captives should be liberated, without ransom. 
 
 Boabdil and his principal cavaliers should take an oath of 
 fealty to the Castilian crown, and certain valuable territories 
 in the Alpuxarra mountains should be assigned to the Moorish 
 monarch for his maintenance. 
 
 The Moors of Granada should become subjects of the Span 
 ish sovereigns, retaining their possessions, their arms and 
 horses, and yielding up nothing but their artillery. They 
 should be protected in the exercise of their religion, and gov 
 erned by their own laws, administered by cadis of their own 
 faith, under governors appointed by the sovereigns. They 
 should be exempted from tribute tor three years, after which 
 term they should pay the same that they had been accustomed 
 to render to their native monarchs. 
 
 Those who chose to depart for Africa within three years, 
 should be provided with a passage for themselves and their 
 effects, free of charge, from whatever port they should prefer. 
 
 For the fulfilment of these articles, four hundred hostages 
 from the principal families were required, previous to the sur 
 render, to be subsequently restored. The son of the king of 
 Granada, and all other hostages in possession of the Castilian 
 sovereigns, were to be restored at the same time. 
 
 Such were the conditions that the wazir Abul Cazim 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 mo- 
 
344 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 ment had arrived when they were to sign and seal the perdi 
 tion of their empire, aud blot themselves out as a nation, all 
 firmness deserted them, and many gave way to tears. Muza 
 alone retained an unaltered mien: "Leave, seniors," 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 de 
 fending 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 conqueror ; or, should 
 any fail 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 care 
 worn men, in whose hearts enthusiasm was dead, and who 
 had grown callous to every chivalrous appeal. Allah 
 Acbar ! 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 Acbar! God is great!" echoed the viziers and alfa 
 quis ; " the will of God be done !" So they all accorded with the 
 king, that these evils were preordaind ; that it was hopeless to 
 contend with them ; and that the terms offered by the Castilian 
 monarchs were as favorable as could be expected. 
 
 When Muza saw that they were about to sign the treaty of 
 surrender, he rose in violent indignation : Do not deceive 
 yourselves," cried he, "nor think the Christains will be faithful 
 to their promises, or their king as magnanimous in conquest as 
 he has been victorious in war. Death is the least we have to 
 fear. It is the plundering and sacking of our city, the pro 
 fanation of our mosques, the ruin of our homes, the violation 
 of our wives and* daughters cruel oppression, bigoted intoler 
 ance, whips and chains, the dungeon, the fagot, and the stake 
 such are the miseries and indignities we shall see and suffer ; 
 at least, those groveling souls will see them, who now shrink 
 from an honorable death. For my part, by Allah, I will nevei 
 witness them !" 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 345 
 
 With these words he left the council-chamber, and strode 
 gloomily through the Court of Lions and the outer halls of the 
 Alhambra, without deigning to speak to the obsequious cour 
 tiers who attended in them. He repaired to his dwelling, 
 armed himself at all points, mounted his favorite war-horse, 
 and, and issuing forth from the city by the gate of Elvira, was 
 never seen or head of more.* 
 
 Such is the account given by Arabian historians, of the exit 
 of Muza ben Abel Gazan; but the venerable Fray Antonio 
 Agapida endeavors to clear up the mystery of his fate. That 
 very evening, a small party of Andalusian cavaliers, some 
 what more than half a score of lances, were riding along 
 the banks of the Xenel, 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 him 
 self in steel. The Christians were lightly armed, with corselet, 
 helm, and target ; for, during the truce, they apprehended no at 
 tack. Seeing, however, the unknown warrior approach 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 
 rest with his scimitar. His blows were furious and deadly ; he 
 seemed regardless what wounds he received, so he could but 
 slay. He was evidently fighting, not for glory, but revenge 
 eager to inflict death, but careless of surviving to enjoy 
 victory. Near one-half of the fell cavaliers beneath his sword, 
 before he received a dangerous wound, so completely was he 
 cased in -armor of proof. At length he was desperately 
 wounded, and his steed, being pierced by a lance, sank to the 
 ground. The Christains, admiring the valor of the Moor, would 
 have spared his life : but he continued to fight upon his knees, 
 brandishing a keen dagger of Fez. Finding at length he could 
 no longer battle, and determined not to be taken prisoner, he 
 threw himself, with an expiring exertion, into the Xenel, and 
 his armor sank him to the bottom of the stream. 
 
 This unknown warrior the venerable Agapida pronounces to 
 have been Muza ben Abel Gazan, and says his horse was re 
 cognised by certain converted Moors of the Christian camp: 
 the fact, however, has always remained in doubt. 
 
 * Conde, part 4. 
 
346 THE CONQUEST OF U LI AN AD A. 
 
 CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 COMMOTIONS IN GRANADA. 
 
 THE capitulation for the surrender of Granada was signed on 
 the 25th of November, 1481, and produced a sudden cessation of 
 those hostilities which had raged for so many years. Christian 
 and Moor might now be seen mingling courteously on the 
 banks of .the Xenel and the Darro, where to have met a few 
 days previous would have produced a scene of sanguinary con 
 test. Still, as the Moors might be suddenly aroused to defence, 
 if, within the allotted term of seventy days, succors should 
 arrive from abroad ; and as they were at all times a rash, in 
 flammable 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 cruisers in the 
 Straits of Gibraltar, were ordered likewise to guard against 
 any relief from the grand soldan of Egypt, or the princes of 
 Barbary. There was no need of such precautions. Those 
 powers were either too much engrossed by their own wars, or 
 too much daunted by the success of the .Spanish arms, to in 
 terfere in a desperate cause; and the unfortunate Moors of 
 Granada were abandoned to their fate. 
 
 The month of December had nearly passed away: the fa 
 mine became extreme, and there was no hope of any favorable 
 even t within the terms pecified in the capitulation. Boabdil 
 saw, that to hold out to the end of the allotted time would but 
 be to protract the miseries of his people. With the consent 
 of his council, he determined to surrender the city on the sixth 
 of January. On the 30th of December, he sent his grand vizier 
 Yusef Aben Comixa, with the four hundred hostages, to king 
 Ferdinand, to make known his intention ; bearing him, at the 
 same time, a present of a magnificent scimitar, and two Ara 
 bian steeds superbly caparisoned. 
 
 The unfortunate Boabdil was doomed to meet with trouble, 
 to the end of his career. The very next day, the santon or 
 dervise Hamet Aben Zarrax, the same who had uttered 
 prophecies and excited commotions on former occasions, sud 
 denly made his appearance. Whence he came, no one knew ; 
 it was rumored that he had been in the mountains of the 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 347 
 
 Alpuxarras, and on the coast of Barbary, endeavoring to rouse 
 the Moslems to the reliei of Granada. He was reduced to a 
 skeleton; his eyes glowed like coals in their sockets, and his 
 speech was little better than frantic raving. He harangued 
 the populace, in the streets and squares ; inveighed against 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 remained a kind of prisoner in the Al- 
 hambra. 
 
 The turbulent multitude continued roaming and shouting 
 and howling about the city, during the day and a part 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 
 known: his disappearance remains a mystery.* 
 
 The Moorish king now issued from the Alhambra, attended 
 by his principal nobles, and harangued the populace. He 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 unfortunate Boabdil attrib 
 uted to himself the miseries of the country. It was my crime 
 in ascending the throne in rebellion against my father, " said 
 he, mournfully, which has brought these woes upon the king 
 dom ; 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 Boabdil." 
 
 The volatile population were touched by the humanity of 
 their sovereign they agreed to adhere to the capitulation, and 
 there was even a faint shout of " Long live Boabdil the unfor- 
 
 * Mariana. 
 
348 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 tunate !" and they all returned to their homes in perfect tran 
 quillity. 
 
 Boabdil immediately sent missives to king Ferdinand, ap 
 prizing him of these events, and of his fears lest further delay 
 should produce new tumults. He proposed, therefore, to sur 
 render the city on the following day. The Oastilian sovereigns 
 assented, with great satisfaction ; and preparations were made 
 in city and camp for this great event, that was to seal the fate 
 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, were 
 hastily packed upon mules; the beautiful apartments were 
 despoiled, with tears and wailings, by their own inhabitants. 
 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, which 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 Bo 
 abdil, the sultana Ayxa la Horra, rode on in silence, with de 
 jected yet dignified demeanor ; but his wife Zorayma, and all 
 the females of his household, gave way to loud lamentations, 
 as they looked back upon their favorite abode, now a mass of 
 gloomy towers behind them. They were attended by the an 
 cient domestics of the household, 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 ched tears, as they 
 opened it for their departure. They paused not, but proceeded 
 along the banks of the Xenel on the road that leads to the Al- 
 puxarras, 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. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 349 
 
 CHAPTEE LIV. 
 
 SURRENDER OF GRANADA. 
 
 THE sun had scarcely begun to shed his beams upon the sum 
 mits of the snowy mountains which rise above Granada, when 
 the Christian canip was in motion. A detachment of horse and 
 foot, led by distinguished cavaliers, and accompanied by Her- 
 nando de Talavera, bishop of Avila, proceeded to take posses 
 sion of the Alhambra 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 there 
 fore been opened, outside of the walls, leading by the Puerta 
 de los Milinos, or the Gate of the Mills, to the summit 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 Yusef Abed 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 powerful sovereigns, in punish 
 ment of the sins of the Moors." He said no more, but passed 
 mournfully on, along the same road by which the Spanish cav 
 aliers 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 mean time, the Christian court and army poured out 
 of the city of Santa Fe, and advanced across the vega. The 
 king and queen, with the prince and princess, and the digni 
 taries 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 de 
 parture of the detachment seemed to them more than necessary 
 
350 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 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 Vala, or Great Watch-Tower, and 
 sparkling in the sunbeams. This was done by Hernando de 
 Talavera, 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 king Ferdinand and queen Isabella !" The words 
 were echoed by the whole army, with acclamations that re 
 sounded across the vega. At sight of these signals of posses 
 sion, the sovereigns sank 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" 
 
 The 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 Xenel, 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 unfortunate 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 
 forward and kissed 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 libera 
 tion 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 : thine, oh 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. 1 t 
 
 * Zurita, Anales de Aragon. t Abarca, Anales de Aragon, Rey 30, c. 3 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 351 
 
 King Ferdinand restrained his exultation into an air of 
 serene magnanimity. "Doubt not our promises, " replied he, 
 nor that thou shalt regain from our friendship the pros 
 perity of which the fortune of war has deprived thee." 
 
 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 de Tendilla, that brave and 
 loyal cavalier being appointed alcayde of the city, and 
 captain-general of the kingdom of Granada. 
 
 Having surrendered the last symbol of power, the unfortu 
 nate Boabdil continued on towards the Alpuxarras, that he 
 might 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. 
 
 Having rejoined his family, Boabdil set forward with a 
 heavy heart for his allotted residence in the valley of Pur- 
 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 arrived 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, lit 
 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 Xenel. 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 was taken possession of, and the throne of the Moslem 
 kings was lost for ever. The heart of Boabdil, softened by 
 misfortunes and overcharged with grief, could no longer 
 contain itself: " Allah Acbar! 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 indig 
 nant 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 endeavored to console his royal 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 master. "Consider, sire," said he, "that the most signal 
 misfortunes often render men as renowned as the most pros 
 perous achievements, provided they sustain them with mag 
 nanimity." 
 
 The unhappy monarch, however, was not to be consoled; 
 his tears continued to flow. Allah Acbar !" exclaimed he ; 
 " when did misfortunes ever equal mine?" 
 
 From this circumstance, the hill, which is not far from the 
 Padul, took the name of Feg Allah Acbar; but the point of 
 view commanding the last prospect of Granada, is known 
 among Spaniards by the name of El ultimo suspiro del Moro; 
 or, " The last sigh of the Moor." 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 HOW THE CASTILIAN SOVEREIGNS TOOK POSSESSION OF GRA 
 NADA. 
 
 WHEN 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 insured. The marques de 
 Villena and the count de Tendilla, with three thousand 
 cavalry and as many infantry, marched in and took possess 
 ion, 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 
 
 * Abarca, lib. sup. Zurita, &c. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 353 
 
 of the Moorish inhabitants, and by his son the late prince 
 Alnayar, 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 every tower, and the 
 thundering salvoes of the ordnance told that the subjugation 
 of the city was complete. 
 
 The 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 sixth of January, the day of kings and 
 festival of the Epiphany, that the sovereigns made their 
 triumphal entry. The king and queen (says the worthy Fray 
 Antonio Agapida) looked, on this occasion, as more than 
 mortal ; the venerable ecclesiastics, to whose advice and zeal 
 this glorious conquest ought in a great measure to be attribu 
 ted, 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 finding 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 
 glory of their race, but suppressed their groans, lest they 
 should 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 sov 
 ereigns 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 accursed 
 heathen race, and for the elevation of the cross in that city 
 wherein the impious doctrines of Mahomet had so long been 
 cherished. In the fervor of his spirit, he supplicated from 
 Heaven a continuance of its grace, and that this glorious 
 triumph might be perpetuated.* The prayer of the pious 
 
 * The words of Fray Antonio Agapida are little more than an echo of those of 
 th worthy Jesuit father Mariana. (L. 25. c. 18.) 
 
354 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 monarch was responded by the people, and even his 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 gush 
 ing fountains, its halls decorated with elegant arabesques and 
 storied with inscriptions, and the splendor of its gilded and 
 brilliantly painted ceilings. 
 
 It had been a last request of the unfortunate Boabdil, and 
 one which showed how deeply he felt the transition of his 
 fate, that no person might be permitted to enter or depart by 
 the gate of the Alhambra, through which 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.* 
 
 The Spanish sovereigns fixed their throne in the presence- 
 chamber of the palace, so long the seat 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 fighting; equalling (says Fray 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 
 
 * Garibay, Compend. Hist. lib. 40. c. 42. The existence of this gateway, and the 
 story connected 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 the 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 fortress 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 halls among the 
 ruins of the Alhambra, where his family has resided for many generations, pointed 
 out the gateway, still closed up with stones. He remembered to have heard his 
 father and grandfather 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 unfortu 
 nate king may be traced from thence across the garden of the convent of Los 
 Martyros, and down 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 CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 355 
 
 the Moors in Spain, having endured seven hundred and 
 seventy-eight years, from the memorable defeat of Eoderick, 
 the last of the Goths, on the banks of the Guadalete. The 
 authentic Agapida is uncommonly particular in fixing the 
 epoch of this event. This great triumph of our holy Catholic 
 faith, according to his computation, took place in the begin 
 ning of January, in the year of our Lord 1492, being 3G55 
 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 eight hundred and ninty-seventh year of the 
 Hegira, or flight of Mahomet; whom may God confound! 
 saith the pious Agapida. 
 
 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 Purchena, 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 Yusef Aben Comixa and 
 his valiant relation and friend Yusef Venegas, both of whom 
 resided near him. Were it in the heart of man in the enjoy 
 ment of present competence to forget past splendor, 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 
 remembrance of the regal splendors of Granada, made all 
 present comforts contemptible in his eyes. No exertions were 
 spared by Ferdinand and Isabella to induce 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. 
 
356 THE CONQUEST OF ORANADA. 
 
 It is probable that his residence in the kingdon was equally 
 irksome to the politic Ferdinand, who could not feel perfectly 
 secure in his newly conquered territories, while there was one 
 within their bounds who might revive pretensions to the 
 throne. A private bargain was therefore made, in the year 
 1496, between Ferdinand and Yusef Aben Comixa, in which 
 the latter, as vizier of Boabdil, undertook to dispose of his 
 master s scanty territory, 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 have made any 
 question about the right of the vizier to make the sale, but 
 paid the money with secret exultation. Yusef Aben Comixa 
 loaded the treasure upon mules, and departed joyfully for the 
 Alpuxarras. He spread the money in triumph before Boadbil : 
 " Senior," said he, "I have observed that as long as ;V\AI live 
 here, you are exposed to constant peril. The Moors are 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 far greater possessions in Africa, where you may 
 live in honor and security." 
 
 When Boabdil heard these words, he burst into a sudden 
 transport of rage, and, drawing his scimitar, would have sacri 
 ficed the officious Yusef on the spot, had not the attendants 
 interfered, and hurried the vizier from 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 money, 
 therefore, and all his jewels and precious effects, he departed 
 with his family and household for a port where a vessel had 
 been carefully provided by the Castilian king to transport 
 them to Africa. 
 
 A crowd of his former subjects witnessed his embarkation. 
 As the sails were unfurled and swelled to the breeze, and 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 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 357 
 
 ominous surname of his youth rose involuntarily to their 
 tongues: "Farewell, Boabdil! Allah preserve thee, El Zogoy- 
 bi /" burst spontaneously from their lips. The unlucky appel 
 lation 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 years in his 
 territories. How he passed his life, whether repining or re 
 signed, history does not mention. The last we find recorded 
 of him is in the year 1536, thirty-four years after the surrender 
 of Granada, when he followed the King of Fez to the field, to 
 quell the rebellion of two brothers named Xerifes. The 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 remained firing at each 
 other across the stream, neither venturing to attempt the dan 
 gerous ford. 
 
 At length the King of Fez divided his army into three bat 
 talions ; the first led on by his son, and by Boabdil el Chico. 
 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; multitudes were 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 scat 
 tered baggage of the army. In this scene of horrible carnage 
 fell Boabdil, truly called El Zogoybi, or the unlucky ; an in 
 stance, 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.* 
 
 * Marmol, Descrip. de Africa, p. 1, 1. 2, c. 40. Idem, Hist. Reb. de los Moros, lib. 
 1, c. 21. 
 
 NOTE. A portrait of Boabdil el Chico is to be seen in the picture-gallery of the 
 Generaliffe. He 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 armory of Madrid are two 
 suits of armor, said to have belonged to him. One is of solid steel, with very little 
 ornament, the helmet closed. From the proportions of these suits of armor, he 
 must have been of full stature and vigorous form. 
 
358 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 DEATH OF THE MAEQUES OF CADIZ. 
 
 THE renowned Eoderigo Ponce de Leon, Marques, Duke of 
 Cadiz, was unquestionably the most distinguished among the 
 cavaliers of Spain, for his zeal, enterprise, and heroism in the 
 great crusade of Granada. He began the war by the capture 
 of Alhama ; he was engaged in almost every inroad and siege 
 of importance, during its continuance ; and he was present at 
 the surrender of the capital, which was the closing scene of the 
 conquest. The renown he thus acquired was sealed by his 
 death, which happened in the forty-eighth year of his age, 
 almost immediately at the close of his triumphs, and before a 
 leaf of his laurels had time to wither. He died at his palace in 
 the city of Seville, on the 27th day of August, 1492, but a few 
 months after the surrender of Granada, and of an illness 
 caused by the exposures and fatigues he had undergone in this 
 memorable war. That honest chronicler, Andres Bernaldes, 
 the curate of Los Palacios, who was a contemporary of the 
 marques, draws his portrait from actual knowledge and obser 
 vation. 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, vassals, 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 sack- 
 buts, of drums and trumpets. Like a true cavalier, he was a 
 protector of the sex on all occasions, and an injured 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 tathe wars, rejoiced 
 to find themselves under his protection ; for wherever his ban 
 ner was displayed, the Moors dreaded to adventure. He was a 
 faithful and devoted friend, but a formidable enemy; for he 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 859 
 
 was slow to forgive, and his vengeance was persevering and 
 terrible. 
 
 The death of this good cavalier spread grief and lamentation 
 throughout all ranks, for he was universally honored and be 
 loved. His relations, dependants, and companions in arms, 
 put on mourning for his loss ; and so numerous were they, 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 sumpt 
 uous kind. The body of the marques 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 magni 
 ficently attired, the body was inclosed 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 as by the 
 pages and esquires, and innumerable vassals of the marques. 
 
 In the close of the evening, just before the Ave Maria, the 
 funeral procession issued from the palace. Ten banners were 
 borne around the bier, the particular trophies of the marques, 
 won from the Moors by his valor in individual enterprises, 
 before King Ferdinand had commenced the war of Granada. 
 The procession was swelled 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 Cifuentes, at that time intendente or com 
 mander of the city. It moved slowly and solemnly through 
 the streets, stopping occasionally, and chanting litanies and 
 responses. Two hundred and forty waxen tapers shed a light 
 like the day about the bier. The balconies and windows were 
 crowded with ladies, who shed tears as the funeral train 
 passed by ; while the women of the lower classes were loud in 
 their lamentations, as if bewailing the loss of a father or a 
 brother. On approaching the convent of St. Augustine, the 
 monks came forth with the cross and tapers, and eight censers, 
 and conducted the body into the church, where it lay in state 
 until all the vigils were performed, by the different orders; 
 after which it was deposited in the family tomb of the Ponces 
 
360 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 in the same church, and the ten banners were suspended over 
 the sepulchre.* 
 
 The tomb of the valiant Roderigo Ponce de Leon, with his 
 banners mouldering 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 by the French, its altars overturned, and the sepulchres 
 of the family of Ponces shattered to pieces. The present duch 
 ess of Benevente, the worthy descendent 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 ; an inscription in gold letters, 
 on the wall of the chapel, to the right of the altar, is all that 
 denotes the place of sepulture of the brave 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, marques of Cadiz, and one of the most dis 
 tinguished heroes of the war of Granada, a few particulars of 
 his remarkable fate will not be unacceptable. They are found 
 among the manuscripts of the worthy padre Fray Antonio 
 Agapida, and appear to have been appended to this Chronicle. 
 
 For several years after the conquest of Granada, the country 
 remained feverish and unquiet. The zealous efforts of the 
 Catholic clergy to effect the conversion of the infidels, and the 
 pious coercion used for that purpose by government, exas 
 perated the stubborn Moors of the mountains. Several mission 
 aries were maltreated ; and in the town of Dayrin, two of them 
 were seized, and exhorted, with many menaces, to embrace 
 the Moslem faith; on their resolutely refusing, they were 
 killed with staves and stones, by the Moorish women and 
 children, and their bodies burnt to ashes, t 
 
 Upon this event, a body of Christian cavaliers assembled in 
 Andalusia to the number of eight hundred, and, without wait 
 ing for orders from the king, revenged the death of these mar- 
 
 * Cura de los Palacios, c. 104. t Ibid, c. 165. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 861 
 
 tyrs, by plundering and laying waste the Moorish towns and 
 villages. The Moors fled to the mountains, and their 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 AJpuxarras. They were echoed from 
 the Serrania of Honda, ever ready for rebellion; but the 
 strongest hold of the insurgents was in the Sierra Vermeja, or 
 chain of Eed Mountains, which lie near the sea, and whose 
 savage rocks and precipices may be seen from Gibraltar. 
 
 When king Ferdinand heard of these tumults, he issued a 
 proclamation ordering all the Moors of the insurgent regions to 
 leave them within ten days, and repair to Castile ; giving secret 
 instructions, however, that those who should voluntarily em 
 brace the Christian faith might be permitted to remain. At 
 the same time, he ordered Don Alonzo de Aguilar, and the 
 counts of Urena and Cifuentes, to march against the rebels. 
 
 Don Alonzo de Aguilar 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; yet they do not give us man to man." These words of 
 the brave Alonzo de Aguilar were afterwards frequently re 
 peated ; but though he saw the desperate nature of the enter 
 prise, he did not hesitate to undertake it. 
 
 Don Alonzo was at that time in the fifty-first year of his age. 
 He was a veteran warrior, 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 muscular frame had 
 acquired the firmness of iron, without the rigidity of age. 
 His armor 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 the freshness 
 of his days and armed and arrayed with all the bravery of a 
 young Spanish cavalier. When the populace of Cordova be 
 held the veteran father, the warrior of a thousand battles, 
 leading forth his youthful son to the field, they bethought 
 themselves of the family appelation: "Behold," cried they, 
 
362 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 tlie eagle teaching his young to fly ! Long live the valiant 
 line of Aguilar I" * 
 
 The prowess of Don Alonzo, and of his companions in 
 arms, was renowned throughout the Moorish towns. At their 
 approach, therefore, numbers of the Moors submitted, and has 
 tened to Honda to embrace Christianity. Among the moun 
 taineers, however, there were many of the Gaudules, 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 instiga 
 tions, his followers gathered together their families and most 
 precious effects, placed them on mules, and, driving before 
 them their flocks and herds, abandoned their valleys, and re 
 tired up the craggy passes of the Sierra Vermeja. On the 
 summit was a fertile plain, surrounded by rocks and precipices, 
 which formed a natural fortress. Here El Feri placed all the 
 women and children, and all the property. By his orders, his 
 followers piled great stones on the rocks and cliffs, which com 
 manded the defiles and the steep sides of the 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 Monarda, a strong place, curiously fortified, 
 and situated at the foot of the highest part of the Sierra Ver 
 meja. Here they remained for several days, unable to compel 
 a surrender. They were separated from the skirt of the moun 
 tain by a deep barranca or ravine, at the bottom of which 
 flowed a small stream. The Moors, commanded by El Feri, 
 drew down from their mountain height, and remained 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 followed 
 by numbers of their companions, some in aid, some in emula 
 tion, but most in hope of booty. A sharp action ensued on the 
 mountain side. The Moors were greatly superior in number, 
 and had the vantage ground. When the counts of Urena and 
 Cifuentes beheld this skirmish, they asked Don Alonzo de 
 Aguilar his opinion: "My opinion," 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 
 
 * AQuilar the Spanish for Eagie. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 363 
 
 in 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 mountain 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 denies 
 with ferocious valor, but were driven from height to height, 
 until they reached the plain on the summit of the mountain, 
 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 hun 
 dred 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 thsy found so much treasure of various 
 kinds collected in this spot, that they threw by their armor 
 and weapons, to load themselves with booty. 
 
 Evening was closing. The Christians, intent upon spoil, had 
 ceased to pursue 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 he, " whither do you fly? Whither can you 
 seek refuge, where the enemy cannot follow you? Your wives, 
 your children, are behind you turn and defend them; you 
 have no chance for safety but from the weapons in your 
 hands." 
 
 The Moors turned at his words. They beheld the Christians 
 scattered about the plain, many of them without armor, and 
 all encumbered with spoil. "Now 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, followed 
 by his Moors, with shouts and cries that echoed through the 
 mountains. The scattered Christians were seized with panic, 
 and, throwing down their booty, began to fly in all directions. 
 Don Alonzo de Aguilar advanced his banner, and endeavored 
 to rally them. Finding his horse of no avail in these rocky 
 heights, he dismounted, and caused his men to do the same ; 
 
 ttleda. L. 5. c. 
 
364 TEE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 he hsfld a small band of tried followers, with which he opposed 
 a bold front to the Moors, calling on the scattered troops to 
 rally in the rear. 
 
 Night had completely closed. It prevented the Moors from 
 seeing the smallness of the force with which they were con 
 tending ; and Don Alonzo and his cavaliers dealt their blows 
 so vigorously, that, aided by the darkness, they seemed multi 
 plied to ten times their number. Unfortunately, a small cask 
 of gunpowder blew up, near to the scene of action. It shed a 
 momentary but brilliant light over all the plain, and on every 
 rock and cliff. The Moors beheld, with surprise, 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 ardor, others pursued the fugitives, hurling 
 after them stones and darts, and discharging showers of ar 
 rows. Many of the Christians, in their terror and their igno 
 rance 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 some of the Moors assailed him in front, others galled 
 him with all kinds of missiles from the impending cliffs. 
 Some of the cavaliers, seeing the hopeless nature of the con 
 flict, proposed that they should abandon the height and re 
 treat down the mountain: "No," said Don Alonzo, proudly: 
 "never did the banner of 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 cliff had struck out two of his teeth, and a lance 
 passed quivering through his thigh. The youth attempted to 
 rise, and, with one knee on the ground, to fight by the side of 
 his father. Don Alonzo, finding him wounded, urged him to 
 quit the field. " Fly, my son!" said he; "let us not put every 
 thing at venture upon one hazard. Conduct thyself as a good 
 Christian, and live to comfort and honor thy mother." 
 
 Don Pedro still refused to leave his side. Whereupon Don 
 Alonzo ordered several of his followers to bear him off by 
 force. His friend Don Francisco Alvarez of Cordova, taking 
 him in his arms, conveyed him to the quarters of the count 
 of Ureiia, who had halted on the height, at some distance from 
 the scene of battle, for the purpose of rallying and succoring 
 the fugitives. Almost at the same moment, the count beheld 
 his own son, Don Pedro Giron, brought in grievously wounded. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 365 
 
 In the mean time, 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, without 
 horse, and almost without armor his corselet unlaced, and 
 his bosom gashed with wounds. Still he kept a brave front 
 towards the enemy, and, retiring between two rocks, defended 
 himself with such valor, 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 doubt 
 ful ; 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 departed from his body, and he 
 expired in the grasp of the Moor. 
 
 Thus fell Alonzo de Aguilar, the mirror of Andalusian chiv 
 alry one of the most powerful grandees of Spain, for person, 
 blood, estate, and office. For forty years he had made suc 
 cessful war upon the Moors in childhood by his household 
 and retainers, in manhood by the prowess of his arm, and in 
 the wisdom and valor of his spirit. His pennon had always 
 been f oremest in danger ; he had been general of armies, vice 
 roy of Andalusia, and the author of glorious enterprises, in 
 which kings were vanquished, and mighty alcaydes and war 
 riors laid low. He had slain many Moslem chiefs with his own 
 arm, and among others the renowned Ali Atar of Loxa, fight 
 ing foot to foot, on the banks of the Xenel. His judgment, 
 discretion, magnanimity, and justice vied with his prowess. 
 He was the fifth lord of his warlike house that fell in battle 
 with the Moors. 
 
 "His soul," observes the worthy padre Abarca, "it is be 
 lieved, ascended to heaven, to receive the reward of so Chris 
 tian a captain ; for that very day he had armed himself with 
 the sacraments of confession and communion. " * 
 
 * Abacra, Anales de Aragon, Key xxx. cap. ii. 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 The Moors, elated with their success, pursued the fugitive 
 Christians down the denies 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 maintain 
 ing 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 Francisco 
 Ramirez of Madrid, who had been captain-general of artillery 
 throughout the war of Granada, and had contributed greatly 
 by his valor and ingenuity to that renowned conquest. But 
 all other griefs and cares were forgotten, in anxiety for the 
 fate of Don Alonzo de Aguilar. His son, Don Pedro de Cor 
 dova, had been brought off with great difficulty from the bat 
 tle, and afterwards lived to be marques of Priego ; but of Don 
 Alonzo nothing was known, except that he was left with a 
 handful of cavaliers, fighting valiantly against an overwhelm 
 ing force. 
 
 As the rising sun lighted up the red cliffs of the mountains, 
 the soldiers watched with anxious eyes, if perchance his pen 
 non might be descried, fluttering from any precipice or defile ; 
 but nothing of the kind was to be seen. The trumpet-call was 
 repeatedly sounded, but empty echoes alone replied. 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 clefts and 
 rocks; but, on being questioned, he shook his head mournfully, 
 and could tell nothing of the fate of his commander. 
 
 The tidings of this disastrous defeat, and of the perilous 
 situation of the survivors, reached Icing Ferdinand at Gran- 
 
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 367 
 
 ada ; he immediately marched at the head of all the chivalry of 
 his court, to the mountains of Honda. 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 towns where the Christian missionaries had been 
 massacred were sold as slaves. From the conquered Moors, 
 the mournful but heroic end of Alonzo de Aguilar was as 
 certained. 
 
 On the morning after the battle, when the Moors came to 
 strip and bury the dead, the body of Don Alonzo was found, 
 among those of more than two hundred of his followers, many 
 of them alcaydes and cavaliers of distinction. 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 recognized. They preserved it with great care, 
 and, on making their submission, delivered it up to king Ferdi 
 nand. It was conveyed with great state to Cordova, amidst 
 the tears and lamentations of all Andalusia. When the funeral 
 train entered Cordova, and the inhabitants saw the coffin con 
 taining the remains of their favorite 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. Hypolito. 
 
 Many years afterwards, his grand-daughter, Doiia 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 
 popular theme of the chronicler and poet, and is endeared to 
 the public 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 con 
 tinued him in honor and office. It was proved that neither he 
 nor his people could succor 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 
 
368 THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. 
 
 count de Ureiia to Cordova, assailed him with one of its plain 
 tive and reproachful verses: 
 
 Count Urena! count Urefia J 
 Tell us, where is Don Alonzo! 
 
 (Dezid Conde de Urefia! 
 Don Alonzo, donde queda?)* 
 
 Bleda, L. 5, c. 26. 
 
 THE EN1? 
 
CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 WASHINGTON IRTING. 
 
 CHICAGO, NEW YORK, AND SAN FRANCISCO: 
 
 BELFORD, CLARKE & CO.. 
 
 PUBLISHERS. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 FEW events in history have been so signal and striking in 
 their main circumstances, and so overwhelming and enduring 
 in their consequences, as that of the conquest of Spain by the 
 Saracens ; yet there are few where the motives, and characters, 
 and actions of the agents have been enveloped in more doubt 
 and contradiction. As in the memorable story of the Fall of 
 Troy, we have to make out, as well as we can, the veritable de 
 tails through the mists of poetic fiction ; yet poetry has so com 
 bined itself with, and lent its magic colouring to, every fact, 
 that to strip it away would be to reduce the story to a meagre 
 skeleton and rob it of all its charms. The storm of Moslem in 
 vasion that swept so suddenly over the peninsula, silenced for 
 a time the faint voice of the muse, and drove the sons of learn 
 ing from their cells. The pen was thrown aside to grasp the 
 sword and spear, and men were too much taken up with bat 
 tling against the evils which beset them on every side, to find 
 time or inclination to record them. 
 
 When the nation had recovered in some degree from the 
 effects of this astounding blow, or rather, had become accus 
 tomed to the tremendous reverse which it produced, and sage 
 men sought to inquire and write the particulars, it was too late 
 to ascertain them in their exact verity. The gloom and melan 
 choly 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 portents, and the 
 actors in the fearful drama had already assumed the dubious 
 characteristics of romance. Or if a writer from among the con 
 querors undertook to touch upon the theme, it was embellished 
 with all the wild extravagancies of an oriental imagination; 
 which afterwards stole into the graver works of the monkish 
 historians. 
 
 Hence, the earliest chronicles which treat of the downfall of 
 Spain, are apt to be tinctured with those saintly miracles which 
 
4 PREFACE. 
 
 savour of the pious labours of the cloister, or those fanciful fic 
 tions that betray their Arabian authors. Yet, from these apoc 
 ryphal 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. It is true, the 
 authors, with cautious discrimination, have discarded those par 
 ticulars 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 con 
 nected in the original with some romantic fiction, and, even in 
 its divorced state, bears traces of its former alliance. 
 
 To discard, however, every thing wild and marvellous in this 
 portion of Spanish history, is to discard some of its most beau 
 tiful, instructive, and national features ; it is to judge of Spain 
 by the standard of probability suited to tamer and more pro 
 saic countries. Spain is virtually a land of poetry and ro 
 mance, where every-day life partakes of adventure, and where 
 the least agitation or excitement carries every thing up into ex 
 travagant enterprise and daring exploit. The Spaniards, in all 
 ages, have been of swelling and braggart spirit, soaring in 
 thought, pompous in word, and valiant, though vain-glorious, 
 in deed. Their heroic aims have transcended the cooler con 
 ceptions 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 
 and occupation of their country by the Arabs, a strong infusion 
 of oriental magnificence has entered into the national charac 
 ter, and rendered the Spaniard distinct from every other na 
 tion of Europe. 
 
 In the following pages, therefore, the author has ventured to 
 dip more deeply into the enchanted fountains of old Spanish 
 chronicles, than has usually been done by those who, in modern 
 times, have treated of the eventful period of the conquest ; but in 
 so doing, he trusts he will illustrate more fully the character of 
 the people and the times. He has thought proper to throw these 
 records into the form of legends, not claiming for them the au 
 thenticity of sober history, 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 acknowledged truths, and might be supported 
 by learned and imposing references in the margin. 
 
LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN, 
 
 THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK.* 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 OF THE ANCIENT INHABITANTS OF SPAIN OF THE MISRULE OF 
 WITIZA THE WICKED. 
 
 SPAIN, or Iberia as it was called in ancient days, has been a 
 country harassed from the earliest times by the invader. The 
 Celts, the Greeks, the Phenicians, 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 subju 
 gated 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 re- 
 conquest of Iberia, and succeeded, after a desperate struggle ol 
 three years duration. They drove before them the barbarous 
 hordes, their predecessors, intermarried and incorporated 
 themselves with the original inhabitants, and founded a power 
 ful and splendid empire, comprising the Iberian peninsula, 
 the ancient Narbonnaise, afterwards called Gallia Gotica, or 
 
 * Many of the facts in this legend are taken from an old chronicle, written in 
 quaint and antiquated Spanish, and professing to be a translation from the Arabian 
 chronicle of the Moor Rasis, by Mohammed, a Moslem writer, and Gil Perez, a Span 
 ish priest. It is supposed to be a piece of literary mosaic work, made up from both 
 Spanish and Arabian chronicles: yet, from this work most of the Spanish historian* 
 have drawn their particulars relative to the fortunes of Don Roderick. 
 
8 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 Gothic Gaul, and a part of the African coast called Tingitania. 
 A new nation was, in a manner, produced by this mixture of 
 the Goths and Iberians. Sprung from a union of warrior races, 
 reared and nurtured amidst the din of arms, the Gothic Span 
 iards, if they may be so termed, were a 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, when they had no external foes to con 
 tend with, they fought with one another ; and, when engaged 
 in battle, says an old chronicler, the very thunders and light 
 nings of heaven could not separate them.* 
 
 For two centuries and a half the Gothic power remained un 
 shaken, and the sceptre was wielded by twenty-five successive 
 kings. The crown was elective, in a council of palatines, com 
 posed of the bishops and nobles, who, while they swore alle 
 giance to the newly-made sovereign, bound him by a recipro 
 cal 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 abso 
 lute. The king was commander-in-chief of the armies; the 
 whole patronage of the kingdom was in his hands ; he sum 
 moned and dissolved the national councils; he made and re 
 voked laws according to his pleasure ; and, having ecclesiasti 
 cal 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 
 free from many of the gross superstitions of the church at 
 Borne, and this unity of faith contributed more than any thing 
 else to blend and harmonize the two races into one. The bish 
 ops 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, of luxury, and re 
 finement ; but there was a gradual decline of the simple, hardy, 
 
 * Florian de Ocampo, lib. 3, c. 12. Justin, Abrev. Trog. Pomp. L. 44. Bleda, 
 Cronica, L. 2, c. 3. 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 9 
 
 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 tributes of his subjects, and con 
 ducted himself with mingled mildness and energy in the ad 
 ministration 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, sons of a preceding king, awakened his 
 jealousy for the security of his throne. One of them, named 
 Favila, duke of Cantabria, he put to death, and would have in 
 flicted the same fate upon his son 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. Rod 
 erick, 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 yield 
 ing to the example of the sect of Mahomet, which suited his 
 lascivious temperament, he indulged in a plurality of wives 
 and concubines, encouraging his subjects to do the same. Nay, 
 he even sought to gain the sanction of the church to his ex 
 cesses, promulgating a law by which the clergy were released 
 from their vows of celibacy, and permitted to marry and to 
 entertain paramours. 
 
 The sovereign Pontiff Constantine threatened to depose and 
 excommunicate him, unless he abrogated this licentious law; 
 but Witiza set him at defiance, threatening, like his Gothic 
 predecessor Alaric, to assail the eternal city with his troops, 
 and make spoil of her accumulated treasures.* "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 
 spirit of the monarch, and endeavoured from the pulpits to 
 
 * Chron. de Luitprando, 709. Abarca, Anales de Aragon (el Mahometismo, Fol. 5). 
 
10 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 rally the people to the pure doctrines of their faith; but they 
 were deposed from their sacred office, and banished as sedi 
 tious mischief-makers. The church of Toledo continued re 
 fractory ; 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 chas 
 tity. Since the church of Toledo will not yield itself to our 
 will," 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 episcopal chair 
 of Toledo, and made him primate of Spain. He was a priest 
 after his own heart, and seconded him in all his profligate 
 abuses. 
 
 It was in vain the denunciations of the church were fulmi 
 nated from the chair of St. Peter; Witiza threw off all alle 
 giance to the Roman Pontiff, threatening with pain of death 
 those who should obey the papal mandates. "We will suffer 
 no foreign ecclesiastic, with triple crown," said he, "to domi 
 neer 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, when scat 
 tered throughout the earth by the fall of Jerusalem, had car 
 ried with them into other lands the gainful arcana of traffic, 
 and were especially noted as opulent money-changers and 
 curious dealers in gold and silver and precious stones ; on this 
 occasion, therefore, 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 demol 
 ished the castles and fortresses that might serve as rallying 
 points for the factious. He disarmed the people also, and con 
 verted the weapons of war into the implements of peace. It 
 seemed, in fact, as if the millennium were dawning upon the 
 land, for the sword was beaten into a ploughshare, and the 
 spear into a pruning-hooc. 
 
 While thus the ancient martial fire of the nation was extin- 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK . H 
 
 guished, its morals likewise were corrupted. The altars were 
 abandoned, the churches closed, wide disorder and sensuality 
 prevailed throughout the land, so that, according to the old 
 chroniclers, within the compass of a few short years, " Witiza 
 the Wicked taught all Spain to sin." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE RISE OF DON RODERICK HIS GOVERNMENT. 
 
 WOE to the ruler who founds his hope of sway on the weak 
 ness or corruption of the people. The very measures taken 
 by Witiza to perpetuate his power ensured his downfall. 
 While the whole nation, under his licentious rule, was sink 
 ing into vice and effeminacy, and the arm of war was 
 unstrung, the youthful Roderick, son of Theodofredo, was 
 training up for action in the stern but wholesome school of 
 adversity. He instructed himself in the use of arms ; became 
 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 friends 
 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 himself. 
 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 Gothic 
 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 histori 
 ans, but all agree that the nation submitted cheerfully to his 
 
12 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 sway, and looked forward to prosperity and happiness under 
 their newly elevated monarch. His appearance 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 stern and simple virtues 
 unimpaired, which he had acquired 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 Witiza, 
 who was brought in chains into his presence. Roderick be 
 held the captive monarch with an unpitying eye, remembering 
 only his wrongs and cruelties to his father. 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 lan 
 guished. There he passed the brief remnant of his days in 
 perpetual darkness, a prey to wretchedness and remorse. 
 
 Roderick now cast an uneasy and suspicious eye upon Evan 
 and Siseburto, the two sons of Witiza. Fearful lest they 
 should 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, by Witiza, in the archiepiscopal chair at Toledo, 
 would have likewise fallen under the 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 suf 
 fered, 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 clergy from 
 their vows of celibacy. 
 
 The jealousy of Roderick for the security of his crown was 
 
. THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 13 
 
 soon again aroused, and his measures were prompt and severe. 
 Having been informed that the governors of certain castles 
 and fortresses in Castie land Andalusia had conspired against 
 him, he caused them to be put to death and their strongholds 
 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 fortifica 
 tions, but these were intrusted to alcaydes in whom he had 
 especial confidence ; the greater part of the kingdom was left 
 defenceless; the nobles, who had been roused to temporary 
 manhood during the recent stir of war, sunk back into the 
 inglorious state of inaction which had disgraced them during 
 the reign of Witiza, passing their time in feasting and dancing 
 to the sound of loose and wanton minstrelsy.* It was scarcely 
 possible to recognize in these idle wassailers and soft voluptu 
 aries the descendants of the stern 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 
 all plume and banner and silken pageantry, the gorgeous 
 trappings for tilt and tourney and courtly revel ; but the iron 
 soul 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 
 Roderick indulged in the same pernicious errors, and was 
 doomed, in like manner, to prepare the way for his own per 
 dition. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 OF THE LOVES OF RODERICK AND THE PRINCESS ELYATA. 
 
 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 
 
 * Mariana, Hist. Esp. L. 6, c. 21. 
 
14 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 women; but in the present voluptuous calm, the amorous 
 propensities of his nature assumed their sway. There are 
 divers accounts of the youthful beauty who first found favour 
 in his eyes, and was elevated by him to the throne. We fol 
 low in our legend the details of an Arabian chronicler,* au 
 thenticated 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 Eoderick, was the ancient city of Denia, situated on 
 the Mediterranean coast, and defended on a rock-built castle 
 that overlooked the sea. 
 
 The Alcayde of the castle, with many of the people of Denia, 
 was one day on his knees in the cliapel, imploring the Virgin 
 to allay a tempest which was strewing the coast with wrecks, 
 when a sentinel brought word that a Moorish cruiser was 
 standing for the land. The 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 curisers. 
 
 In a little while the horsemen of the neighbourhood were 
 seen pricking along the beach, armed with such weapons as 
 they could find, and the Alcayde and his scanty garrison de 
 scended from the hill, In the mean time the Moorish bark 
 came rolling and pitching towards the land. As it drew near, 
 the rich carving and gilding with which it was decorated, its 
 silken bandaroles and banks of crimson oars, showed it to be 
 no warlike vessel, but a sumptuous galiot 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 galiot 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 
 illustrious company on board. There were Moors of both 
 sexes sumptuously 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 surrounded her with drawn swords, 
 threatening death to any that approached; others sprang 
 
 * Perdidade EspaSa, por Abulcasim Tarif Abentarique, lib. 1. 
 
 * Lope de Vega. 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 15 
 
 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 be, ore you," said they, u the only daughter of 
 the king of Algiers, he betrothed bride of the son of the king 
 of Tunis. We were conducting her to the court of her expect 
 ing 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." 
 
 The Alcayde listened to their prayers. He conducted the 
 princess and her train to the castle, where every honour due 
 to her rank was paid her. Some of her ancient attendants 
 interceded for her liberation, promising countless sums to 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 castle, 
 and recovered from the fatigue and terror of the seas, he 
 caused her to be conducted, with all her train, in magnificent 
 state to the court of Don Eoderick. 
 
 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 dam 
 sels 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 costly looms of the orient; 
 her diadem sparkled with diamonds, and was decorated 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 be 
 hold 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 voluptuous life had dis 
 posed him for tender and amorous affections, and at the first 
 sight of the beautiful Elyata he was enraptured with her 
 charms. Seeing her face clouded with sorrow and anxiety, 
 
 * By some she is called Zar a. 
 
16 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 he soothed her with gentle and courteous words, and conduct 
 ing her to a royal palace, " Behold," said he, " thy habitation, 
 where no one shall molest thee ; consider thyself at home in 
 the mansion of thy father, and dispose of r .iy thing 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 permitted 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 spacious apartments of the palace, and sported 
 among the groves and alleys of its garden. Every day the 
 remembrance of the paternal home grew less and less painful, 
 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 mon 
 arch s wishes, and this was the religion of the princess. Kod- 
 erick forthwith employed the archbishop of Toledo to instruct 
 the beautiful Elyata in the mysteries of the Christian faith. 
 The female intellect is quick in perceiving the merits of new 
 doctrines; the archbishop, therefore, soon succeeded in con 
 verting, not merely the princess, but most of her attendants, 
 and a day was appointed for their public baptism. The cere 
 mony 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 an 
 gels, strewed their 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 baptized by the name of Exilona, 
 by which she was thenceforth called, and has generally been 
 known in history. 
 
 The nuptials of Roderick and the beautiful convert took 
 place shortly afterwards, and were celebrated with great mag 
 nificence. There were jousts, and tourneys, and banquets, 
 and other rejoicings, which lasted twenty days, and were at 
 tended by the principal nobles from all parts of Spain. After 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 17 
 
 these were over, such of the attendants of the princess as re 
 fused to embrace Christianity and desired to return to Africa, 
 were dismissed with munificent presents ; and an embassy was 
 sent to the king of Algiers, to inform him of the nuptials of his 
 daughter, and to proffer him the friendship of King Roderick.* 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 OF COUNT JULIAN. 
 
 FOR a time Don Roderick lived happily with his young and 
 beautiful queen, and Toledo was the seat of festivity and splen 
 dour. The principal nobles throughout the kingdom repaired 
 to his court to pay him homage, and to receive his commands ; 
 and none were more devoted in their reverence than those who 
 were obnoxious to suspicion from their connexion with the late 
 king. 
 
 Among the foremost of these was Count Julian, a man des 
 tined to be infamously renowned in the dark story of his coun 
 try s woes. He was of one of the proudest Gothic families, 
 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 connex 
 ion, and of his own merits, he had enjoyed the highest dig 
 nities and commands, being one of the Espatorios, or royal 
 sword-bearers ; an office of the greatest confidence about the 
 person of the sovereign, t He had, moreover, been entrusted 
 with the military government of the Spanish possessions on 
 the African coast of the strait, which at that time were threat 
 ened by the Arabs of the East, the followers of Mahomet, who 
 were advancing their victorious standard to the extremity of 
 
 * " Como esta Infanta era muy hermosa, y el Rey [Don Rodrigo] dispuesta y gen- 
 til hombre, entro por medio el amor y aficion, y junto con el regalo con que la avia 
 mandado hospedar y servir f ul causa que el rey persuadio esta Infanta, que si se 
 tornava a su ley de christiano la tomaria por muger, y que la haria sefiora de sus 
 Reynos. Con esta persuasion ella feu contenta, y aviendose vuelto Christiana, se 
 caso con ella, y se celebraron sus bodas con muchas fiestas y regozijos, conio era 
 razon." Abulcasim, Conq st de Espan. cap. 3. 
 
 t Condes Espatorios; so called from the drawn swords of ample size and breadth 
 with which they kept guard in the ante-chambers of the Gothic kings. Comes 
 Spathariorum, custodum corporis Regis Profectus. Hunc et Propospatharium ap- 
 pellatuin existimo. Patr. Pant, de Offic. Goth. 
 
18 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 Western Africa. Count Julian established his seat of govern 
 ment 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 fate 
 of Witiza. They had hastened, therefore, 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, 
 and continued him 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 families in the royal house] told. They 
 served as pages to the king, and handmaids and ladies of hon 
 our to the queen, and were instructed in all manner of accom 
 plishments befitting their gentle blood. When about to depart 
 for Ceuta, to resume his command, Don Julian brought his 
 daughter Morinda to present her to the sovereigns. She was 
 a beautiful virgin that had not as yet attained to womanhood. 
 " I confide her to your protection," 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 Eoderick received the timid and blushing maiden into 
 his paternal care ; promising to watch over her happiness with 
 a parent s eye, and that she should be enrolled among 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 STORY OF FLORINDA. 
 
 THE beautiful daughter of Count Julian was received with 
 great favour by the Queen Exilona and admitted among the 
 noble damsels that attended upon her person. Here she lived 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 19 
 
 in honour and apparent security, and surrounded by innocent 
 delights. To gratify his queen, Don Roderick had built for her 
 rural recreation a palace 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 water 
 falls, and the distant murmur of the Tagus, made it a delight 
 ful retreat during fche sultry days of summer. The charm of 
 perfect privacy also reigned throughout the place, for the gar 
 den walls were high, and numerous guards kept watch with 
 out to protect it from all intrusion. 
 
 In this delicious abode, more befitting an oriental voluptuary 
 than a Gothic king, Don Roderick was accustomed to while 
 away much of that time which should have been devoted to 
 the toilsome cares of government. The very security and 
 peace which he had produced throughout his dominions by 
 his precautions to abolish the means and habitudes 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. Surrounded by the 
 pleasures of an idle and effeminate court, and beguiled by the 
 example of his degenerate nobles, he gave way to a fatal sen 
 suality that had lain dormant in his nature during the virtu 
 ous 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 follow 
 ing 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 fa 
 ther 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 
 overhung with myrtles and jessamines. It looked into an 
 interior garden or court, set out with ^ tinge-trees, in the 
 
;;0 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 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 the 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 King Rod 
 erick beheld delicate limbs shining 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 
 Mauritanian damsel revealed limbs of voluptuous symmetry 
 that seemed to defy all rivalry. 
 
 The Spanish beauties were on the point of giving up the 
 contest, when they bethought themselves of the young Flo- 
 rinda, the daughter of Count Julian, who lay on the grassy 
 bank, abandoned to a summer slumber. The soft glow of 
 youth and health mantled on her cheek ; her fringed eyelashes 
 scarcely covered their sleeping orbs ; her moist and ruby lips 
 were slightly parted, just revealing a gleam of her ivory teeth, 
 while her innocent bosom rose and fell beneath her bodice, 
 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 like 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, 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 21 
 
 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 sunk beneath his gaze, and remained bent on the earth in 
 virgin modesty. 
 
 It was in vain he called to mind the sacred trust reposed 
 in him by Count Julian, and the promise he had given to 
 watch over his daughter with paternal care; his heart was 
 vitiated by sensual indulgence, and the consciousness of power 
 had rendered him selfish in his gratifications. 
 
 Being one evening in the garden where the queen was divert 
 ing herself with her damsels, and coming to the fountain 
 where he had beheld the innocent maidens at their sport, he 
 could no longer restrain the passion that raged within his 
 breast. Seating himself beside the fountain, 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 bodice, and her timid blushes increased the efful 
 gence of her charms. 
 
 Having examined the monarch s hand in vain, she looked 
 up in his face with artless perplexity. 
 
 "Senor," 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 canst pluck it forth !" 
 
 "My lord!" exclaimed the blushing and astonished maiden. 
 
 "Florinda!" said Don Roderick, "dost thou love me ?" 
 
 "Senor," 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." So saying, the 
 maiden dropped her eyes to the ground, and continued kneel 
 ing : 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 understand me. I would have thee love me, not as a 
 father, nor as a monarch, but as one who adores thee. Why 
 
22 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 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. Seilor, " 
 said she, "the line I spring from can receive no dignity by 
 means so vile ; and my father would rather die than purchase 
 rank and power by the dishonour of his child. But I see," 
 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 majesty 
 to pardon me, that I have taken your pleasantry in such 
 serious part." 
 
 In this way the agitated maiden sought to evade the ad 
 dresses 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. "May 
 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 absolute mistress of myself and my domains." 
 
 The damsel rose from the earth where she had hitherto 
 knelt, and her whole countenance glowed with virtuous in 
 dignation. "My lord," said she, "I am your subject, and in 
 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 wan 
 ton imagination, leaving them to poems and romances, and 
 such like highly seasoned works of fantasy and recreation. 
 
 Let it suffice to say, that Don Roderick pursued his suit to 
 the beautiful Florinda, his passion being more and more in 
 flamed by the resistance of the 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 violence. 
 
TEE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 23 
 
 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 heen treated with opprobrium in several of 
 the ancient chronicles and legendary ballads that have trans 
 mitted, from generation to generation, the story of the woes of 
 Spain. In very truth, however, she appears to have 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 
 earth 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 hast entrusted thy lamb to 
 the guardianship of the lion. Thy daughter has been dis 
 honoured, the royal cradle of the Goths polluted, and our line 
 age 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 
 father. " Saddle thy steed," said she, " and if thou dost aspire 
 to knightly hortfcur, 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 
 thou 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. 
 
24 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 DON RODERICK RECEIVES AN EXTRAORDINARY EMBASSY. 
 
 THE heart of Don Roderick was not so depraved by sensual 
 ity, but that the wrong he had been guilty of toward the in 
 nocent Florinda, and the disgrace he had inflicted on her 
 house, weighed heavy on his spirits, and a cloud began to 
 gather on his on:>,e clear and un wrinkled brow. 
 
 Heaven, at this time, say the old Spanish chronicles, per 
 mitted a marvellous intimation of the wrath with which it in 
 tended to visit the monarch and his people, in punishment of 
 their sins; nor are we, say the same orthodox writers, to 
 startle and withhold our faith when we meet in the page of 
 discreet and sober history with these 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 shake the physical as well as the moral world, and are 
 often announced by forerunning marvels and prodigious omens. 
 
 With such like cautious preliminaries do the wary but credu 
 lous historiographers of yore usher in a marvellous event of 
 prophecy and enchantment, linked in ancient story with the 
 fortunes of Don Roderick, but which modern 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, sur 
 rounded 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 garments 
 of foreign or antiquated fashion, which swept the ground, and 
 were cinctured 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 Libya, sur- 
 named 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, 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 25 
 
 secured by a great lock of steel, and he left a command 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 at 
 tempted to enter, but have paid dearly for their temerity. 
 Some have perished within the threshold, others have been 
 overwhelmed with horror at tremendous sounds, which shook 
 the foundations of the earth, and have hastened to reclose the 
 door and secure it with its thousand locks. Thus, since the 
 days of Hercules, the inmost recesses of the pile have never 
 been penetrated by mortal man, and a profound 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, tfoe 
 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 ad 
 vanced age, and his overhanging eyebrows showed him a man 
 full of wary counsel. 
 
 "Father," said the king, " I have an earnest desire to pene 
 trate the mystery of this 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 
 in might and empire. A knowledge of it, therefore, is not 
 material to the welfare of your kingdom. Seek not then to 
 indulge a rash and unprofitable curiosity, which is interdicted 
 under such awful menaces. " 
 
 " Of what importance," cried the king, "are the menaces of 
 Hercules the Libyan? was he not a pagan; and can his en 
 chantments have aught avail against a believer in our holy 
 faith? Doubtless in this tower are locked up treasures of gold 
 
 * Perdida de Espafia, por Abulcasim Tarif Abentarique, 1. 1, c. 6. Cronica del Rey 
 Don Rodrigo, por el Moro Rasis, 1. 1, c. 1. Bleda, Cron. cap. vii. 
 
26 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 and jewels, amassed in days of old, the spoils of mighty kings, 
 the riches of the pagan world. My coffers are exhausted; 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 I will 
 explore the hidden mystery, or rather the hidden treasures, of 
 this tower." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 STORY OF THE MARVELLOUS AND PORTENTOUS TOWER. 
 
 fl?HE 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. 
 
 Of 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 mystery, and every thing is full of 
 type and portent. To such a mind the necromantic 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 mystic prophecy, 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. " 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 27 
 
 This singular tower was round and of great height and gran 
 deur, erected upon a lofty rock, and surrounded by crags and 
 precipices. The foundation was supported by four brazen 
 lions, each taller than a cavalier on horseback. The walls were 
 built of small pieces of jasper and various coloured marbles, 
 not larger than a man s hand; so subtilely joined, however, 
 that, but for their different 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 
 long since passed away, and the whole surface was so admirably 
 polished that the stones were as lustrous as glass, and reflected 
 the rays of the sun with such resplendent brightness as to daz 
 zle all beholders.* 
 
 King Roderick and his courtiers arrived wondering 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 differ 
 ent centuries, which had been affixed by the predecessors of 
 Don Roderick. On either side of the portal stood the two an 
 cient guardians of the tower, laden with the keys appertaining 
 to the locks. 
 
 The king alighted, and approaching the portals, ordered the 
 guardians to unlock the gate. The hoary-headed men drew 
 back with terror. Alas !" cried they, what is it your majesty 
 requires of us? Would you have the mischiefs of this tower 
 unbound, 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 genera 
 tion to generation within the memory of man, and which even 
 Csesar himself, when sovereign of Spain, had not ventured to 
 invade. The youthful cavaliers, however, were eager to pur 
 sue the adventure, and encouraged him in his 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, whereupon the young cavaliers 
 
 *From the minute account of the good friar, drawn from the ancient chronicles, 
 it would appear that the walls of the tower were pictured in mosaic work. 
 
28 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 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. " Whatever is within this tower," said they, "is 
 as yet harmless and lies bound under a mighty 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 immovable. 
 
 The patience of the king was now exhausted, and he ad 
 vanced 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 tempestuous sound. 
 The hearts of the ancient guardians quaked within them, and 
 their knees smote together ; but several of the youthful cava 
 liers rushed in, eager to gratify their curiosity, or to signalize 
 themselves in this redoubtable enterprise. 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 should be kindled to dispel the dark 
 ness, 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 ante 
 chamber, on the opposite 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 twirled 
 incessantly, giving such cruel and resounding 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 do my duty." t After a little while Roder 
 ick plucked up heart, and addressed it with great solemnity : 
 
 * Bleda, Cronica, cap. 7. t Idem. 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 29 
 
 "Whatever thou be," said he, " know that I come not to vio 
 late this sanctuary, but to inquire into the mystery it con 
 tains ; I conjure thee, therefore, to let me pass in safety. " 
 
 Upon this the figure paused with uplifted mace, and the king 
 and his train passed unmolested through the door. 
 
 They now entered a vast chamber, of a rare and sumptu 
 ous architecture, difficult to be described. The walls were 
 encrusted 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, lus 
 trous 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 
 characters, that Hercules Alcides, 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 venerable 
 archbishop laid his hand upon his arm, and made a last remon 
 strance. "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 concealed." 
 
 "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 found 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, after the fashion 
 of the Arabs, with scimitars hanging from their necks and 
 
30 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 cross-bows at their saddle-backs, and they carried banners and 
 pennons with divers devices. Above them was inscribed in 
 Greek characters, Rash monarch ! behold the men who are to 
 hurl thee from thy throne, and subdue thy kingdom !" 
 
 At sight of these things the king was troubled in spirit, and 
 dismay fell upon his attendants. While they were yet regard 
 ing 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 army ; but all was heard indistinctly, as if afar 
 off, or in a reverie or dream. The more they gazed, the plainer 
 became the motion, and the louder 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 trans 
 parent cloud. And the shadowy figures appeared 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 wtiistling of arrows and the 
 hurtling 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 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. 
 
 Roderick stayed to see no more, but rushed from the fatal 
 hall, followed by his terrified attendants. They fled through 
 the outer chamber, where the gigantic figure with the whirling 
 mace had disappeared from his pedestal, and on issuing into 
 the open air, they found the two ancient guardians of the 
 tower lying dead at the portal, as though they had been 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 31 
 
 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 immovable, and the cavaliers were dismayed by 
 the tremendous turmoil and the mingled shouts and groans 
 that continued to prevail within. The king and his train hast 
 ened back to Toledo, pursued and pelted by the tempest. The 
 mountains shook and echoed with the thunder, trees were up 
 rooted and blown down, and the Tagus raged and roared and 
 flowed above its banks. It seemed to the affrighted courtiers as 
 if the phantom legions of the tower had issued forth and min 
 gled with the storm ; for amidst the claps of thunder and the 
 howling of the wind, they 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 head 
 long 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 burn 
 ing 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 that ashes fell 
 it was as a stain of blood. It is furthermore recorded by 
 ancient men and writers 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 
 
r,2 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 of this necromantic tower was a sign and token of the ap 
 preaching perdition of Spain. 
 
 "Let all those," concludes the cautious friar, " who question 
 the verity of this most marvellous occurrence, consult those 
 admirable sources of our history, the chronicle of the Moor 
 Basis, and the work entitled, The Fall of Spain, written by the 
 Moor Abulcasim Tarif Abentarique. Let them consult, more 
 over, 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 our 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. 
 
 COUNT JULIAN HIS FORTUNES IN AFRICA. HE HEARS OF THE 
 DISHONOUR OF HIS CHILD HIS CONDUCT THEREUPON. 
 
 THE course of our 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 under his command was threatened with inva 
 sion. 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 subjugated 
 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 Almagreb, or Western Africa, 
 had submitted to the standard of the Prophet, with the ex 
 ception of a portion of Tingitania, lying along the straits ; being 
 the province held by the Goths of Spain, and commanded by 
 Count Julian. The Arab invaders were a hundred thousand 
 strong, most of them veteran troops, seasoned in warfare and 
 accustomed to victory. They were led by an old Arab Gen 
 eral, Muza ben Nosier, to whom was confided the government 
 of Almagreb ; most of which he had himself conquered. The 
 
TIIK LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 33 
 
 ambition of this veteran was to make the Moslem conquest 
 complete, by expelling the Christians 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 ren 
 dered 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 spirit, but the Goths, inured to 
 danger on this frontier, retained the stubborn valour of their 
 race, so impaired among their brethren in Spain. They were 
 commanded, too, by one skilled in warfare and ambitious of re 
 nown. 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 
 exultation 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 upon my name, if I cease until I have full 
 measure of revenge." 
 
 Count Julian was vehement in his passions, and took no 
 counsel in his wrath. His spirit was haughty in the extreme, 
 
34 LEO ENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 but destitute of true magnanimity, and when once wounded, 
 turned to gall and venom. A dark and malignant hatred en 
 tered into his soul, not only against Don Roderick, but against 
 all Spain ; he looked upon it as the scene of his disgrace, a land 
 in which his 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 from 
 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; Ins 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 
 court at Toledo. Wherever he came he was hailed with accla 
 mation, as a victorious general, and appeared in the presence 
 of his sovereign radiant with the victory at Ceuta. Conceal 
 ing from King Roderick his knowledge of the outrage upon his 
 house, he professed nothing but the most devoted loyalty and 
 affection. 
 
 The king loaded him with favours ; seeking to appease his 
 own conscience by heaping honours upon the father in atone 
 ment of the deadly wrong inflicted upon his child. He re 
 garded Count Julian, also, as a man able and experienced in 
 warfare, and took his advice in al] matters relating to the 
 military affairs of the kingdom. The count magnified the 
 dangers that threatened the frontier under 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 with 
 out defence against any sudden irruption from the south. 
 
 Having thus artfully arranged his plans, and all things being 
 prepared for his return to Africa, he obtained permission to 
 withdraw his daughter from the court, and leave her with her 
 mother, the Countess Frandina, who, he pretended, lay dan 
 gerously ill at Algeziras, Count Julian issued out of the gate 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 35 
 
 of the city, followed by a shining band of chosen followers, 
 while beside him, on a palfrey, 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 Tagus 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 deso 
 lation fall upon thy dwelling, and confusion and defeat upon 
 thy realm !" 
 
 In his journeyings through the country, he looked round 
 Mm 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 Countess Frandina. When the hap 
 less 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 dark man and perfidious as the night, 
 but devout in demeanour, and smooth and 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, Evan and Siseburto, the exiled 
 sons of Witiza, to return into Spain. They resided in Andalu 
 sia, 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 Moor- 
 
36 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 ish appellation of " La Sierra de Calderin, " or the mountain oi 
 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 
 offered to their house. He represented to them that Eoderick 
 was their legitimate enemy; that he had dethroned Witiza, 
 their relation, and had now stained the honour of one of tho 
 most illustrious daughters of their line. The Countess Fran 
 dina 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 assembled cavaliers 
 to fury. 
 
 The count took advantage of the excitement of the moment 
 to unfold his plan. The main object was to dethrone Don 
 Roderick, and give the crown to the sons of the late King 
 Witiza. By this means they 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 in 
 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 secretly 
 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 negotiate for his aid, while the 
 bishop 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 to 
 gether his treasure, and taking his wife and daughter and all 
 his household, abandoned the country he meant to betray; 
 embarking at Malaga for Ceuta. The gate of the wall of that 
 city, through which they went forth, continued for ages to 
 bear the name of Puerto, de la Cava, or the gate of the harlot ; 
 for such was the opprobrious and unmerited appellation be 
 stowed by the Moors 011 the unhappy Florinda.f 
 
 * Bleda, cap. 5. t Idem., cap. 4. 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 37 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 SECRET VISIT OF COUNT JULIAN TO THE ARAB CAMP FIRST 
 EXPEDITION OF TARIC EL TUERTO. 
 
 WHEN Count Julian had placed his family in security in 
 Ceuta, surrounded by soldiery devoted to his fortunes, he took 
 with him a few confidential followers, and departed in secret 
 for the camp of the Arabian Emir, 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 mountains towering in the distance. In the motley 
 army here assembled were warriors of every tribe and nation, 
 that had been united by pact or conquest in the cause of Islam. 
 There were those who had followed Muza from the fertile re 
 gions of Egypt, across the deserts of Barca, and those who had 
 joined his standard from among the sun-burnt tribes of Mauri 
 tania. These were Saracen and Tartar, Syrian and Copt, and 
 swarthy Moor ; sumptuous warriors from the civilized cities of 
 the east, and the gaunt and predatory 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 century of 
 continual wars "with the cultivated nations of the east had 
 rendered them accomplished warriors ; and the occasional so 
 journ in luxurious countries and populous cities, had acquaint 
 ed them with the arts and habits of civilized life. Still the 
 roving, restless, and predatory habits of the genuine son of 
 Ishmael prevailed, in defiance of every change of clime or 
 situation. 
 
 Count Julian found the Arab conqueror Muza surrounded by 
 somewhat of oriental state and splendour. He was advanced 
 in life, but of a noble presence, and concealed his age by ting 
 ing 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 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 
 
38 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 deliver all Spain into thy hands ; a land far exceeding in fer 
 tility 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 west 
 ern Africa, had often cast a wistful eye to the mountains 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 approba 
 tion 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 confidential counsellors 
 and officers, and demanded their opinion. "These words of 
 Count 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 our 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 be 
 yond his steed, his lance, and scimitar. He was a native of 
 Damascus ; his name was Taric ben Zeyad, but, from having 
 lost an eye, he was known among the Spaniards by the appel 
 lation 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 gal 
 leys 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 
 expedition of the Arabs against Spain took place, according to 
 certain historians, in the year of our Lord seven hundred and 
 
 * Beuter, Cron. Gen. de Espana, L. 1, c. 28. Marmol. Descrip. de Africa, L. 
 2, c. 10. 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 39 
 
 twelve ; though others differ 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 
 frbm some authorities, also, that the galleys of Taric cruised 
 along the coasts of Andalusia and Lusitania, under the feigned 
 character of merchant barks, nor is this at all improbable, 
 while they were seeking merely to observe the land, and get a 
 knowledge of the harbours. Wherever they touched, Count 
 Julian despatched emissaries to assemble his friends and ad 
 herents 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 
 Zeyad.* Here they again avowed their readiness to flock to 
 his standard whenever it should be openly raised, and made 
 known their various preparations 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 inclina 
 tions, 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. 
 
 LETTER OF MUZA TO THE CALIPH SECOND EXPEDITION OF TARIC 
 EL TUERTO. 
 
 ON hearing the tidings brought by Taric el Tuerto, and be 
 holding the spoil he had collected, Muza wrote a letter to the 
 Caliph Waled Almanzor, setting forth the traitorous proffer of 
 Count Julian, and the probability, through his means, of mak 
 ing a successful invasion of Spain. "Anew 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 ; 
 Hegiaz in its fruits and flowers ; Cathay in its precious min 
 erals, and Aden in the excellence of its ports and harbours. It 
 
 * Bleda, Cron. c. 5. t Conde, Hist. Dom Arab, part 1, c. 8. 
 
40 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 is populous also, and wealthy ; having many splendid cities and 
 majestic monuments of ancient art. What is to prevent this 
 glorious land from becoming 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 stand 
 ard 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! 
 It has been foretold by the ambassador of God that his law 
 should extend to the ultimate parts of the west, and be carried 
 by the sword into new and unknown regions. Behold another 
 land is opened 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, authorizing him to undertake the con 
 quest. 
 
 Upon this, there was a great stir of preparation, and numer 
 ous vessels were assembled and equipped at Tangier to convey 
 the invading army across the straits. Twelve thousand men 
 were chosen for this expedition : most of them light Arabian 
 troops, seasoned in warfare, and fitted for hardy and rapid en 
 terprise. Among them were many horsemen, mounted on fleet 
 Arabian steeds. The whole was put under the command of the 
 veteran Taric el Tuerto, or the one-eyed, in whom Muza re 
 posed implicit confidence as in a second self. Taric accepted 
 the command with joy ; his martial fire was roused at the idea 
 of having such an 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 straits 
 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 op 
 posed their landing, but were easily put to flight. Taric stood 
 on the sea-side, and watched until the last squadron had 
 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 be- 
 
 * Conde, part 1, c. 8. 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 41 
 
 held their fleet wrapped in flames and smoke, and sinking 
 beneath the waves. " How shall we escape," exclaimed they, 
 "if the fortune of war should be against us?" "There is no 
 escape for the coward !" cried Taric, " the brave man thinks of 
 none; your 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 your swords." 
 
 While Taric was yet talking with his followers, says one of 
 the ancient chroniclers, a Christian female was descried wav 
 ing a white pennon on a reed, in signal of peace. On being 
 brought into the presence of Taric, she prostrated herself be 
 fore him. Seiior, " said she, I am an ancient woman ; and 
 it is now full sixty years past 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 prophecy said to have 
 been written by a holy friar ; and this was the purport of the 
 prophecy, that a time would arrive when our country would 
 be 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 his 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 this cir 
 cumstance as it is set down in ancient chronicle, yet withholds 
 his belief from the pretended prophecy, considering the whole 
 a cunning device of Taric to increase the courage of his troops. 
 " Doubtless," says he, " there was a collusion between this an 
 cient sibyl and the crafty son of Ishmr,el; for these infidel 
 leaders were full of damnable inventions to work upon the su 
 perstitious 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 pos 
 session of a strong-hold, which was, in a manner, the key to 
 ill the adjacent country. This was a lofty mountain or pro- 
 
42 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 montory 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, commanded the 
 entrance to the Mediterranean Sea. Here in old times, Her 
 cules 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 Theodo- 
 mir, but he has universally been called Tadmir by the Arabian 
 historians, and is renowned as being the first commander 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 triumphed 
 over the land. 
 
 Theodomir had but seventeen hundred men under his com 
 mand, and these but rudely armed; yet he made a resolute 
 stand against the army of Taric, and defended the pass to the 
 promontory 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 strong-hold, and as the 
 means of securing an entrance into the land. To commemo 
 rate his first victory, he changed the name of the promontory, 
 and called it Gibel Taric, or the Mountain of Tarib, but in pro 
 cess of time the name has gradually been altered to Gibraltar. 
 
 In the meantime, the patriotic chieftain Theodomir, having 
 collected his routed forces, encamped with them on the skirts 
 of the mountains, and summoned the country round to join his 
 standard. He sent off missives in all speed to the king, im 
 parting in brief and blunt terms the news of the invasion, and 
 craving assistance with equal frankness. "Seilor," said he, 
 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, serior, with instant speed, or rather, come your 
 self to our assistance." * 
 
 * Conde, part i, c. 9. 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 43 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 MEASURES OF DON RODERICK ON HEARING OF THE INVASION- 
 EXPEDITION OF ATAULPHO VISION OF TARIC. 
 
 WHEN Don Roderick heard that legions of turbaned troops 
 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 counsel of Count 
 Julian, 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 ac 
 customed to appear at tournaments and jousts, but most of 
 their vassals were destitute of weapons, and oased 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 campaigns. 
 
 This army Don Roderick put under the command of his kins 
 man Ataulpho, a prince of the royal blood of the Goths, 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, hr.d 
 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 throne. 
 Guided by the count, the troops of Taric penetrated into vari 
 ous 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 in 
 
44 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 ing them before him, and they 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 it 
 self 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 his tent, sur 
 rounded by his captains. Theodomir was frank and abrupt in 
 speech, for the most of his life had been passed far from courts. 
 He delivered, in round terms, the message of the Prince Ataul- 
 pho ; upbraiding the Arab general with his wanton invasion of 
 the land, and summoning him to surrender his army or to ex 
 pect 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 un 
 til 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. Theodomir glanced on them a look of defi 
 ance, but his eye rested on arenegado Christian, one of his own 
 ancient comrades, and a relation of Count Julian. "As to 
 you, Don Graybeard," 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, if 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 from 
 the camp. "Tis well," replied Theodomir; "God will give 
 me the field which you deny. Let yon hoary apostate look to 
 himself to-morrow in the battle, for I pledge myself 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 indigna 
 tion of this patriot knight, while they secretly despised his 
 renagado 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. Cer 
 tainly it was a night of fearful suspense, and Moslem and Chris 
 tian looked forward with doubt to the fortune of the coming 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 45 
 
 day. The Spanish sentinel walked his pensive round, listen 
 ing 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 cliffs beheld the numerous camp-fires of the Chris 
 tians 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. 
 
 Taric marked their despondency, but said nothing. Scarce 
 had the first streak of morning light trembled along the sea, 
 however, when he summoned his principal warriors 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 re 
 tired to my tent last night, when a man of a majestic and vener 
 able 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 Emir Bahamet, and other an- 
 cient men, describe the Prophet, whom they had seen 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 para 
 dise is prepared, and immortal houris await their coming. He 
 spake and vanished ; I heard a strain of celestial melody, and 
 my tent was filled with the odours of Arabia the happy." 
 "Such," say the Spanish chroniclers, "was another of the 
 arts by which this arch son of Ishmael sought to animate the 
 hearts of his followers; and the pretended vision has been re 
 corded by the Arabian writers^ as a veritable occurrence. Mar 
 vellous, indeed, was the effect* produced by it upon the infidel 
 soldiery, who now cried out with eagerness to be led against 
 the foe." 
 
46 LEGENDS OF THE COX QUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 BATTLE OF CALPE FATE OF ATAULPHO. 
 
 THE gray 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 sheath 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 hold. We 
 have a long day before us ; 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 cymbals 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 confi 
 dence by the words of Taric, were sallying forth, with flaunt 
 ing 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 at 
 tacks against the Christian captains, and especially against 
 Ataulpho; "for the chiefs being slain, " said he, " their follow 
 ers 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 con 
 spicuous above all the rest for the youthful grace and majesty 
 of his appearance, and the bravery of his array. He was 
 mounted on a superb Andalusian charger, richly caparisoned 
 with crimson velvet, embroidered with gold. His surcoat was 
 of like colour and adornment, and the plumes that waved 
 above his burnished helmet were of the purest white. Ten 
 mounted pages, magnificently attired, followed him to. the field, 
 but their duty was not so much to tight as to attend upon their 
 lord, and to furnish him with steed or weapon. 
 
 The Christian troops, though "irregular and undisciplined, 
 were full of native courage ; for the old warrior spirit of their 
 Gothic sires still glowed in their bosoms. There were two bat 
 talions of infantry, but Ataulpho stationed them in the rear;* 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 47 
 
 "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 com 
 posed of infantry. Upon tliis the cavaliers checked their 
 steeds, and requested that the foot-soldiery might advance 
 and disperse this losel crew, holding it beneath their dignity 
 to contend with pedestrian 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 poniards 
 of the Moslems. The cavaliers succeeded, however, in break 
 ing into the midst of the battalion and throwing it into con 
 fusion, cutting down some with their swords, transpiercing 
 others with their spears, and trampling many under the hoofs 
 of their horses. At this moment, they were attacked by a 
 band of Spanish horsemen, the recreant partisans of Count 
 Julian. 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 
 unnatural foe. 
 
 The foremost among these recreant warriors was the rene- 
 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 pas 
 sage for thy perjured soul." The renegado 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 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. 
 
 The battle now became general, and lasted throughout the 
 morning with varying success. The stratagem of Taric, how 
 ever, began to produce its effect. The Christian leaders and, 
 
48 7-/vY7A:.Y/>X OF Tllfi COXQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 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, be 
 neath a thousand wounds. StilHhe battle lingered on through 
 out a great part of the day, and as the declining sun shone 
 through the clouds of dust, it seemed as if the conflicting hosts 
 were wrapped in smoke and fire. 
 
 The Prince Ataulpho saw that the fortune of 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 warriors 
 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 fame 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 
 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, 
 ivared and plunged and refused to let him mount. The prince, 
 however, used him as a shield to ward off the press of foes, 
 while with his sword he defended himself against those in 
 front of him. Taric ben Zeyad arrived at the scene of con 
 flict, and paused for a moment in admiration of the surpassing 
 prowess of the prince; 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 
 oould repeat his blow, Theodomir led up a body of Christian 
 cavaliers to the rescue, and Taric was parted from his prey by 
 
THE LEOKM) OF D0.\ RODERICK. 49 
 
 the tumult of the fight. The prince sank to the earth, covered 
 with wounds and exhausted by the loss of blood. A faithful 
 page drew him from under the hoofs of the horses, and, aided 
 by a veteran soldier, an ancient vassal of Ataulpho, conveyed 
 him to a short distance from the scene 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 supported it on his knees, and the 
 veteran 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 soldier, " 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 reck. 
 Continuing to kneel, he confessed himself to that ancient sol 
 dier, 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 Christian 
 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, with the sound of 
 trumpets, atabals, and cymbals. 
 
 When the Christians beheld the surcoat, and knew the fea 
 tures of the prince, they were struck with horror, and heart 
 and hand failed them. Theodomir 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. 
 
50 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 * 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 TERROR OF THE COUNTRY RODERICK ROUSES HIMSELF TO ARMS. 
 
 THE scattered fugitives of the Christian army spread terror 
 throughout the land. The inhabitants of the towns and vil 
 lages gathered around them as they applied at their gates for 
 food, or laid themselves down faint and wounded beside the 
 public fountains. 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 was seated with his beauteous queen, Exilona, 
 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 was brought into his presence. 
 "Tidings of great woe," exclaimed the soldier. "The prince 
 has fallen in battle. I saw his head and surcoat upon a Moor 
 ish lance, and the army was overthrown and fled." 
 
 At hearing these words, Roderick covered his face with his 
 hands, and for some time sat in silence ; and all his courtiers 
 stood mute and aghast, and no one dared to speak a word. In 
 that awful space of time passed before his thoughts all his 
 errors and his crimes, and all the evils that had been predicted 
 in the necromantic tower. His mind was filled with horror 
 and confusion, for the hour of his destruction seemed at hand ; 
 but he subdued his agitation by his strong and haughty spirit; 
 and when he uncovered his face no one could read on his brow 
 the trouble and agony of his heart. Still every hour brought 
 fresh tidings of disaster. Messenger after messenger came 
 spurring into the city, distracting it with new alarms. The 
 infidels, they said, were strengthening themselves in the land : 
 host after host were pouring in from Africa : the seaboard of 
 Andalusia glittered with spears and scimitars. Bands of tur- 
 baned 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 country lay in smoking desolation. v 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 51 
 
 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 army was to assemble. 
 Throwing by, then, all the trappings of his late slothful and 
 voluptuous life, and arming himself for warlike action, he de 
 parted from Toledo at the head of his guard, composed of the 
 flower of the youthful nobility. His queen, Exilona, accom 
 panied 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 
 host of vassals and retainers, all well armed and appointed; 
 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 k-ing, and he was readily admitted into his most secret 
 councils. 
 
 The alarm of the infidel invasion had spread throughout the 
 land, and roused the Gothic valour of the inhabitants. On re 
 ceiving the orders of Roderick, every town and hamlet, every 
 mountain and valley, had sent forth its fighting men, and the 
 whole country was on the march towards Andalusia. In a lit 
 tle while there were gathered together, on the plain of Cor 
 dova, near fifty thousand horsemen, and a countless host of 
 foot-soldiers. The Gothic nobles appeared in burnished ar 
 mour, 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 ; betraying 
 the luxury and ostentation into which they had declined from 
 the iron hardihood of their warlike sires. As to the common 
 people, some had lances and shields and swords and cross 
 bows, but the greater part were unarmed, or provided merely 
 
52 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 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 ineffec 
 tual 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 arrival 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, " said he, 
 " their number is but limited, but every day new hosts arrive, 
 like flocks of locusts, from Africa. They 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. M 
 
 King Roderick listened to the crafty counsel of the bishop, 
 and determined to advance without delay. He mounted his 
 war horse, Orelia, and rode among his troops assembled on 
 that spacious plain, and wherever he appeared he was received 
 with acclamations ; for nothing so arouses the spirit of the sol 
 dier 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. Should 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 yourselves and sons 
 to hard and cruel slavery. No safety remains for you but in 
 the prowess of your arms. For my own part, as I am your 
 king, so will I be your leader, and will be the foremost to en 
 counter every toil and danger." 
 
 The soldiery answered their monarch with loud acclama 
 tions, and solemnly pledged themselves to fight to the last 
 gasp in defence of their country and their faith. The king 
 then arranged the order of their march: ah 1 those who were 
 armed with curiasses and coats of mail were placed in the 
 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 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 53 
 
 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 staff of the standard 
 wa,s broken in twain. Many ancient courtiers who were 
 present, looked upon this as an evil omen, and counselled the 
 king not to set forward on his march that day ; but, disregard 
 ing 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 de 
 parted 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 vcrdad; or, The Field of Truth; a name, says the 
 sage chronicler Abulcasim, which it bears even to the present 
 day.* 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MARCH OF THE GOTHIC ARMY ENCAMPMENT ON THE BANKS OF 
 THE GU AD ALETE MYSTERIOUS PREDICTIONS OF A PALMER 
 CONDUCT OF PELISTES THEREUPON. 
 
 THE hopes of Andalusia revived as this mighty host stretched 
 in lengthening 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 in the land, and, had it possessed arms and disci 
 pline, 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 Guadalete,t 
 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 the 
 clash of cymbal, the note of the trumpet, and the neighing of 
 fiery Arabian, steeds. There were swarthy troops from every 
 
 * La Perdida de Espana, cap. 9. Bleda, L. 2, c. 8. 
 
 t This name was given to it subsequently by the Arabs. It signifies the River of 
 Death. Vide Pedraza, Hist. Granad. p. 3, c. 1. 
 
54 LEO ENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 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 sover 
 eign ; and it was a grievous sight to behold such good soldiers 
 arrayed against their country and their faith. 
 
 The Christians pitched their tents about the hour of vespers, 
 at a short league distant from the enemy, and remained 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 
 a newly enlisted soldier. A marvellous occurrence is recorded 
 by the Arabian chroniclers as having taken place in the Chris 
 tian camp ; but discreet Spanish writers relate it with much 
 modification, and consider it a stratagem of the wily Bishop 
 Oppas, to sound the loyalty of the Christian cavaliers. 
 
 As several leaders of the army were seated with the bishop 
 in his tent, conversing on the dubious fortunes of the ap 
 proaching contest, an ancient pilgrim appeared at the en 
 trance. He was bowed down with years, his snowy beard 
 descended to his girdle, and he supported his tottering steps 
 with a palmer s staff. The cavaliers rose and received him 
 with great reverence as he advanced within the tent. Hold- 
 ing up his withered hand, "Woe, woe to Spain!" exclaimed 
 he, for the vial of the wrath of Heaven is about to be poured 
 out. Listen, warriors, and take warning. Four months since, 
 having performed my pilgrimage to the sepulchre of our Lord 
 in Palestine, I was on my return towards my native land. 
 Wearied and way-worn, I lay down one night to sleep beneath 
 a palm tree, by the side of a fountain, when I was awakened 
 by a voice saying unto me, in soft accents, Son of sorrow, 
 why sleepest thou? I opened my eyes, and beheld one of fair 
 and beauteous countenance, in shining apparel, a<nd with glori 
 ous wings, standing by the fountain ; and I said, Who art 
 thou, who callest upon me in this deep hour of the night? 
 
 " Fear not, replied the stranger; I am an angel from 
 heaven, sent to reveal unto thee the fate of thy country. Be- 
 
TEE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 55 
 
 hold, the sins of Roderick have come up before God, and His 
 anger is kindled against him, and He has given him up to he 
 invaded and destroyed. Hasten then to Spain., and seek the 
 camp of thy countrymen. Warn them that such only shall be 
 saved as shall abandon Roderick; but those who adhere to 
 him shall share his punishment, and shall fall under the sword 
 of the invader. 7 
 
 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 no 
 where 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 aston 
 ishment. The Bishop Oppas sat with his eyes fixed upon the 
 ground, and shadowed by his overhanging brow. At length, 
 breaking silence, in a low and faltering voice: "Doubtless," 
 said he, this message is from God ; and since He has taken 
 compassion upon us, and given us notice of His impending judg 
 ment, it behoves us to hold grave council, and determine how 
 best we may accomplish His will and avert His displeasure." 
 
 The chiefs still remained silent as men confounded. Among 
 them was a veteran noble named Pelistes. He had distin 
 guished himself in the African wars, fighting side by side with 
 Count Julian ; but the latter had never dared to tamper with 
 his faith, for he knew his stern integrity. Polistes had brought 
 with him to the camp his only son, who had never drawn a 
 sword except in tourney. When the young man saw that the 
 veterans held their peace, the blood mantled in his cheek, 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 have given such dastard and per 
 fidious counsel. For my own part, I stand ready to defend my 
 king, my country, and my faith ; I know no higher duty than 
 this ; and if God thinks fit to strike me dead in the perform 
 ance of it, His sovereign will be done !" 
 
 When the young man had risen to speak, his father had 
 fixed his eyes upon him with a grave and stern demeanour, 
 leaning upon a two-handed sword. As soon as the youth had 
 finished, Pelistes embraced him with a father s fondness. 
 "Thou hast spoken well, my son," said he; "if I held my 
 peace at the counsel of this losel pilgrim, it was but to hear thy 
 
56 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 opinion, and to learn whether thou wert worthy 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 disloyal ; so help me God, I would have struck off 
 thy head with this weapon which I hold in my hand. But 
 thou hast counselled like a loyal and a Christian knight, and I 
 thank God for having given me a son worthy to perpetuate the 
 honours of my line. As to this pilgrim, 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 we shall yet prove the pilgrim a lying prophet. " 
 The words of Pelistes roused the spirits of many of the cava 
 liers; others, however, remained full of anxious foreboding, 
 and when this fearful prophecy was rumoured about the camp, 
 as it presently was by the emissaries of the bishop, it spread 
 awe and dismay among the soldiery. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 SKIRMISHING OF THE ARMIES PELISTES AND HIS SON PELISTES 
 AND THE BISHOP. 
 
 ON the following day the two armies remained regarding 
 each other with wary, but menacing aspect. About noontide 
 King Roderick 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 advantage, they 
 might raise the spirits of the army. They were led on by 
 Theodomir, the same Gothic noble who had signalized 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 horsemen 
 sallied forth to the encounter, together with three hundred of 
 the followers of Count Julian. There was hot skirmishing 
 about the field and on the banks of the river; many gallant 
 feats were displayed on either side, and many valiant warriors 
 were slain. As the night closed in, the trumpets from either 
 camp summoned the troops to retire from the combat. In this 
 day s action the Christians suffered greatly in the loss of their 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 57 
 
 distinguished cavaliers ; for it is the noblest spirits who ven 
 ture most, and lay themselves open to danger ; and the Mos 
 lem soldiers had instructions to single out the leaders of the 
 adverse host. All this is said to have been devised by the 
 perfidious Bishop Oppas, who had secret communications with 
 the enemy, while he influenced the councils of the king ; and 
 who trusted that by this skirmishing warfare the flower 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 com 
 manded to stand ready to seize the horses and strip off the 
 armour of the killed and wounded. Among the most illus 
 trious of the warriors who fought that day was Pelistes, the 
 Gothic noble who had so sternly checked the tongue of the 
 Bishop Oppas. He led to the field a large body of his own 
 vassals and retainers, and of cavaliers trained up in 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 immense, 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. None suffered more, however, than 
 the warriors of Pelistes. Their leader himself was bold and 
 hardy, and prone to expose himself to danger ; but years and 
 experience had moderated his early fire ; his son, however, was 
 eager to distinguish himself in this, his first essay, and rushed 
 with impetuous ardour into the hottest of the battle. In vain 
 his father called to caution him ; he was ever in the advance, 
 and seemed unconscious of the perils that surrounded him. 
 The cavaliers and vassals of his father followed him with de 
 voted zeal, and many of them paid for their loyalty with their 
 lives. When the trumpets sounded in the evening for retrea^, 
 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 
 blood trickled from the greaves of his armour. His valiant 
 son 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 
 
58 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN 
 
 grief, but the father restrained his agony, and looked on with 
 the stern resignation of a soldier. 
 
 Don Roderick surveyed the field of battle with a rueful eye, 
 for it was covered with the mangled bodies of his most illus 
 trious warriors; he saw, too, with anxiety, that the common 
 people, unused to war and unsustained by discipline, were har 
 assed by incessant 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 arrived to sway 
 him to his purpose. He called to his mind the various portents 
 and prophecies which had forerun their present danger. " Let 
 not my lord the king," said he, "make light of these mysteri 
 ous revelations, which appear to be so disastrously fulfilling. 
 The hand of Heaven appears to be against us. Destruction 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 grant 
 ing part of his demands, prevent the utter ruin of our country. 
 If such counsel be acceptable to my lord the king, I stand 
 ready to depart upon an embassy to the Moslem camp." 
 
 Upon hearing these words, Pelistes, who had stood in mourn 
 ful silence, regarding the dead body of his son, burst forth 
 with honest indignation. "By this good sword," said he, 
 "the man who yields such dastard counsel deserves, death 
 from the hand of his countryman rather than from the foe ; 
 and, were it not for the presence of the king, may I forfeit 
 salvation if I would not strike him dead upon the spot." 
 
 The 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 should you advance one step without my hastening to 
 meet you." 
 
 The king interposed between the jarring nobles, and rebuked 
 IJje impetuosity of Pelistes, 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 de 
 termined to offer .the enemy general battle on the following 
 day. A herald was despatched defying Taric ben Zeyad to 
 the contest, and the defiance was gladly accepted by the 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 59 
 
 Moslem chieftain.* Don Roderick then formed the plan of ac 
 tion, 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. 
 
 TRAITOROUS MESSAGE OF COUNT JULIAN. 
 
 TARIC BEN ZEYAD 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. Thou 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 I 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 us with guile 
 ful words. " 
 
 Don Julian retired to his tent in great trouble of mind, and 
 fear came upon him that the Bishop Oppas might play him 
 false; for it is the lot of traitors ever to distrust each other. 
 He called to him the same page who had brought him the 
 letter from Florinda, revealing the story of her dishonour. 
 
 "Thou knowest, 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 commune with thee in secret. Then 
 tell him Count Julian greets him as a brother, and demands 
 how the wrongs of his daughter Florinda are to be redressed. 
 
 * Bleda, Cronica 
 
(JO LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 Mark well his reply, and bring it word for word. Have thj 
 lips closed, but thine eyes and ears open; and observe every 
 thing of note 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 discerni 
 ble in the night. He girded on a sword and a dagger, slung an 
 Arab bow with a quiver of arrows at his side, and 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 war 
 rior who had crawled among the reeds on the margin of the 
 river; and sometimes his steed stepped cautiously 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 approached 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 be 
 held the ring of Count Julian, and heard the words of his mes 
 sage, 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, weU armed, and 
 well appointed. The king has confided to myself, aided by the 
 princes Evan and Siseburto, the command 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 Damascus." 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 camp. On pass 
 ing the last outpost, where the guards were half slumbering 
 on their arms, he was overheard and summoned, 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 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 61 
 
 rising in his 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 ar 
 mour, 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 XVII. 
 
 LAST DAY OF THE BATTLE. 
 
 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 the vengeance of 
 heaven upon his head. In the mid- watches of the night, when 
 all was silent except the footsteps of the sentinel, pacing before 
 his tent, the king rose from his couch, and walking forth 
 looked thoughtfully upon the 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 heavy and oppressed ; but he felt only for himself, 
 says Antonio Agapida: he thought nothing of the perils im 
 pending over the thousands of devoted subjects in the camp 
 below him ; sleeping, as it were, on the margin of their graves. 
 The faint clatter of distant hoofs, as if in rapid flight, reached 
 the monarch s ear, but the horsemen were not to be descried. 
 At that very hour, and along the shadowy 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 con 
 fessed his sins before the holy man. After this a solemn mass 
 was performed in the royal tent, and the eucharist adminis 
 tered to the monarch. When these ceremonies were con 
 cluded, he besought the archbishop to depart forthwith for 
 
62 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 Cordova, there to await the issue of the battle, and to be ready 
 to bring forward reinforcements and supplies. The archbishop 
 saddled his mule and departed just as the faint blush of morn 
 ing 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 compassionate 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 benediction, 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. He was arrayed in 
 robes of gold brocade; his sandals were embroidered 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 axle-trees of which were of silver, and 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 cava 
 liers 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 
 an Arabian writer, surrounded by his guards in gilded armour 
 and waying plumes and scarfs and surcoats of a thousand dyes, 
 it was as if the sun were emerging in the dazzling 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 
 
 * Entrand. Chron. an. Chris. 714. 
 
THE LEG EX D OF DON RODERICK. 63 
 
 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 lightning ; while the sound 
 of drum and trumpet, and the clash of Moorish cymbal, were as 
 the warlike 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 
 Arabian horsemen, led by a Greek renegado named Maguel el 
 Kunii, careered in front of the Christian line, launching their 
 darts, and then wheeling off beyond the reach of the missiles 
 hurled after them. Theodomir now brought up his seasoned 
 troops into the .action, seconded by the veteran Pelistes, and 
 in a little while the battle became furious and promiscuous. 
 It was glorious to behold 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. They 
 fought desperately and successfully, for they fought for their 
 country and their faith. The 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 enemy, 
 he threw himself before them, and, rising in his stirrups, O 
 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 
 ,nd the day is ours !" 
 
 With these words he put spurs to his horse and sprung 
 
64 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 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 mo 
 ment 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 Roderick 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 trai 
 torous 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 away 
 their arms and fled in all directions. They were pursued with 
 dreadful slaughter, until the darkness of the night rendered it 
 impossible to distinguish friend from foe. Taric then called off 
 his troops from the pursuit, and took possession of the royal 
 camp ; and the couch which had been pressed so uneasily on 
 the preceding night by Don Roderick, now yielded sound repose 
 to his conqueror.* 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE FIELD OF BATTLE AFTER THE DEFEAT THE FATE OF 
 RODERICK. 
 
 ON the morning after the battle, the Arab leader, Taric ben 
 Zeyad, rode over the bloody field of the Guadalete, strewed 
 with the ruins of those splendid armies which had so lately 
 
 * This battle is called indiscriminately by historians the battle of Guadalete, or 
 of Xeres, from the neighbourhood of that city. 
 
TEE LliGKM) OF DON RODERICK. 61 
 
 passed like glorious pageants along the river banks. There MOOT 
 and Christian, horseman and horse, lay gashed with hideous 
 wounds ; and the river, still red with blood, was filled with the 
 Jbodies 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 bro 
 cades, and all other luxurious decorations in which the Gothic 
 nobles had indulged in the latter times of their degeneracy. 
 A vast amount of treasure was likewise found, which 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 Christians beheld them from the neighbouring hills, they 
 beat their breasts and tore their hair, and lamented over them 
 as over the funeral fires of their country. The carnage of that 
 battle infected the air for two whole months, and bones were 
 seen lying in heaps upon the field for more than forty years ; 
 nay, when ages had passed and gone, the husbandman, turn 
 ing up the soil, would still find fragments of Gothic cuirasses 
 and helms, and Moorish scimitars, the relics of that dreadful 
 fight. 
 
 For three 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 teh 1 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 
 
66 LEGENDS OF THE COXQUK8T OF SPAIN. 
 
 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 Mtiza ben Nosier, 
 who, in like manner, transmitted it to the caliph at Damas 
 cus. 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 Archbishop 
 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, 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, there 
 fore, 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, being 
 restored to some degree of tranquillity, began to occupy them 
 selves about the events of this dismal day, a rumour arose that 
 Roderick had escaped from the carnage on the banks of the 
 Guadalete, and was still alive. It was said, that having from 
 a 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 flight. It is added, that the 
 Arab horsemen, while scouring the mountains in quest of 
 fugitives, found a shepherd arrayed in the royal robes, and 
 brought him before the conqueror, believing him to be the king 
 himself. Count Julian soon dispelled the error. On being 
 questioned, the trembling rustic declared that while tending 
 his sheep in the folds of the mountains, there came a cavalier 
 on a horse wearied and spent and ready to sink beneath the 
 spur. That the cavalier with an authoritative voice and mena 
 cing air commanded him to exchange garments with him, and 
 clad himself in his rude garb of sheep-skin, and took his crook 
 and his scrip of provisions, and continued up the rugged de- 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. 67 
 
 files of the mountains leading towards Castile, until he was 
 lost to view.* 
 
 This tradition was fondly cherished by many, who clung to 
 the belief in the existence of their monarch as their main hope 
 for the redemption of Spain. It was even affirmed that he had 
 taken refuge, with many of his host, in an island of the "Ocean 
 sea," from whence he might yet return once more to elevate 
 his standard, and battle for the recovery of his throne. 
 
 Year after year, however, elapsed, and nothing was heard of 
 Don Roderick ; yet, like Sebastian of Portugal, and Arthur of 
 England, his name continued to be a rallying point for popular 
 faith, and the mystery of his end to give rise to romantic 
 fables. At length, when generation after generation had sunk 
 into the grave, and near two centuries had passed and gone, 
 traces were said to be discovered that threw a light on the final 
 fortunes of the unfortunate Roderick. At that time, Don 
 Alphonso the Great, King of Leon, had wrested the city of 
 Viseo in Lusitania from the hands of the Moslems. As his 
 soldiers were ranging about the city and its environs, one of 
 them discovered in a field, outside of the walls, a small chapel 
 or hermitage, with a sepulchre in front, on which was inscribed 
 this epitaph in Gothic characters : 
 
 HIC REQUIESCIT RUDERICUS, 
 ULTIMUS RKX GOTHORUM. 
 
 (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 clays in solitary penance. The warrior, as he contemplated 
 the supposed tomb of the once haughty Roderick, forgot all his 
 faults and errors, and shed a soldier s 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. 
 
 * Bleda, Cron. L. 2, c. 9. Abulcasim Tarif Abentarique, L. 1, c. 10. 
 
68 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE FOREGOING LEGEND. 
 
 THE TOMB OF RODERICK. 
 
 THE venerable Sebastiano, Bishop of Salamanca, declares 
 that the inscription on the tomb at Viseo in Portugal existed in 
 his time, and that he had seen it. A particular account of the 
 exile and hermit life of Roderick is furnished by Bergaiiza, on 
 the authority of Portuguese chronicles. 
 
 Algunos histcriadores Portugueses asseguran, que el Rey 
 Rodrigo, perdida la battalia, huyo a tierra de Merida, y se 
 recogio en el monasterio de Cauliniano, en donde, arrepentido 
 de sus culpas, procure confessarlas con muchas lagrimas. 
 Deseando mas retiro, y escogiendo por companero a un monge 
 llamado Roman, y elevando la Imagen de Nazareth, que Cy- 
 riaco monge de nacion griego avra traido de Jerusalem al mo 
 nasterio de Cauliniano, se subio a un monte muy aspero, que 
 estaba sobre el mar, junto al lugar de Pederneyra. Vivio 
 Rodrigo en compania de el monge en el hueco de una gruta por 
 espacio de un ailo ; despues se passo a la ermita de sail Miguel, 
 que estaba cerca de Viseo, en donde murio y fue sepultado. 
 
 Puedese ver esta relacion en las notas de Don Thomas Tamayo 
 sobre Paulo deacaiio. El chrom con de san Millan, que llega 
 hasta el ano 883, deze que, hasta su tiempo, si ignora el fin del 
 Rey Rodrigo. Pocos afios despues el Rey Don Alonzo el Magno, 
 aviendo ganado la ciudad de Viseo, encontro en una iglesia el 
 epitafio que en romance dize aqui yaze Rodrigo, ultimo Rey 
 de los Godos. Berganza, L. 1, c. 13. 
 
 THE CAVE OF HERCULES. 
 
 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 ac 
 count of another marvel of the city of Toledo. This ancient 
 city, which dates its existence almost from the time of the 
 flood, claiming as its founder Tubal, the son of Japhet, and 
 grandson of Noah,* has been the warrior hold of many genera 
 tions, and a strange diversity of races. It bears traces of the 
 
 * Salazar, Hist. Gran. Cardinal, Prologo, vol. i. plan 1. 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK 69 
 
 artifices and devices of its various occupants, and is full of 
 mysteries and subjects for antiquarian conjecture and perplex 
 ity. It is built upon a high rocky promontory, with the Tagus 
 brawling round its base, and is overlooked by cragged and pre 
 cipitous 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 are occasionally 
 discovered under the ruins of ancient houses, or beneath the 
 churches and convents. 
 
 These are supposed by some to have been the habitations or 
 retreats of the primitive inhabitants ; for it was the custom of 
 the ancients, according to Pliny, to make caves in high and 
 rocky places, and live in them through fear of floods ; and such 
 a precaution, says the worthy Don Pedro de Roxas, in his his 
 tory of Toledo, was natural enough among the first Toledans, 
 seeing that they founded their city shortly after the deluge 
 while the memory of it was still fresh in their minds. 
 
 Some have supposed these secret caves and vaults to have 
 been places of concealment of the inhabitants and their treas 
 ure, during times of war and violence ; or rude temples for the 
 performance of religious ceremonies in times of persecution. 
 There are not wanting other, and grave writers, who give them 
 a still darker purpose. In these caves, say they, were taught 
 .the diabolical mysteries of magic; and here were performed 
 those infernal ceremonies and incantations horrible in the eyes 
 of God and man. " History," says the worthy Don Pedro de 
 Roxas, is full of accounts that the magi taught and performed 
 their magic and their superstitious 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 practise it. " In the time of the Moors 
 this art, we are 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 ; insomuch 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 city, none in modern times surpass 
 the cave of Hercules, if we may take the account of Don Pedro 
 de Roxas for authentic. The entrance to this cave is within 
 the church of San Gines, situated in nearly the highest part of 
 the city. The portal is secured by massy doors, opening within 
 
70 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 the walls of the church, but which are kept rigorously closed. 
 The cavern extends under 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 supported by columns and arches. 
 
 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, ordered the entrance to be cleaned. 
 A number of persons, furnished with provisions, lanterns, and 
 cords, 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 echoed through the cavern, and smote the hearts of the 
 adventurers with terror. Recovering from their alarm they 
 proceeded onward, 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 time their hearts were so chilled with awe, and their 
 thoughts so bewildered, that they could not seek any other 
 passage by which they might advance ; so they turned back 
 and hastened out of the cave. It was nightfall when they 
 sallied forth, and they were so much affected by the terror 
 they had undergone, and by the cold and damp 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 re 
 search and gratify his curiosity, the history does not mention. 
 
 Alonzo Telles de Meneses, in his history of the world, re 
 cords, 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 grottoes; each having its particular terror, 
 
THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. * 71 
 
 and all under the guardianship of a ferocious dog, who has the 
 key of all the gates, and watches day and night. At the ap 
 proach of any one he shows his teeth, and makes a hideous 
 growling; but no adventurer after wealth has had courage to 
 brave a contest with this terrific Cerberus. 
 
 The most intrepid candidate on record was 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, he determined to venture alone in search of 
 the treasure. He accordingly entered, and wandered many 
 hours, bewildered, about the cave. Of ten^ would he have re 
 turned, but the thoughts of his wife and children urged him 
 on. At length he arrived near to the place where he supposed 
 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 upon him as he fled. He 
 beheld direful phantoms glaring and gibbering around him, 
 and heard the sound of pursuit in the echoes of his footsteps 
 He reached his home overcome with affright; several hours 
 elapsed before he could recover speech to tell his story, and 
 he died on the following day. 
 
 The judicious Don Pedro de Eoxas holds the account of the 
 buried treasure for fabulous, but the adventure of this un 
 lucky man for very possible; being led on by avarice, or 
 rather the hope of retrieving a desperate fortune. He, more 
 over, pronounces his dying shortly after coming forth as very 
 probable ; because the darkness of the cave ; its coldness ; the 
 fright at finding the bones ; the dread of meeting the imagi 
 nary dog, all joining 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 de 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 Egyptian, who made it his 
 
72 ^LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 habitation after he had erected his pillars at the straits of 
 Gibraltar. Here, too, it is said, he read magic to his follow 
 ers, and taught them those supernatural arts by which he 
 accomplished 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 such a grovelling insinuation 
 will be treated with proper scorn by the reader, after the 
 nobler purposes to which he has heard this marvellous cavern 
 consecrated. 
 
 From all the circumstances here adduced from learned and 
 reverend authors, it will be perceived that Toledo is a city 
 fruitful of marvels, and that the necromantic tower of Her 
 cules has more solid foundation than most edifices of similar 
 import in ancient history. 
 
 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 1826, in com 
 pany with a small knot of antiquity- hunters, among whom 
 was an eminent British painter,* and an English nobleman, f 
 wfao has since distinguished himself in Spanish historical re- 
 seareh, 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 be 
 niggard of his tongue about any thing he knew, or slow to 
 boast of any marvel pertaining to his church ; but he professed 
 u+ter ignorance of the existence of any such portal. He re 
 membered to have heard, however, that immediately under 
 the entrance to the church 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 there 
 on; so that whether it led to the magic cave or the necro 
 mantic tower remains a mystery, and so must remain until 
 some monarch or archbishop shall again have courage and 
 authority to break the spell. 
 
 * Mr. D. W-kie. t Lord Mah n. 
 
LEO END OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 73 
 
 LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 CONSTERNATION OF SPAIN CONDUCT OF THE CONQUERORS 
 MISSIVES BETWEEN TARIC AND MUZA. 
 
 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 fled 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 mules and other 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 turban or a 
 Moslem standard, or on hearing the clangour of a trumpet, 
 abandoned their flocks and herds and hastened their flight 
 with their families. If their pursuers gained upon them, they 
 threw by their household goods and whatever was of burthen, 
 and thought themselves fortunate to escape, naked and desti 
 tute, 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 civilized conquerors. 
 Taric el Tuerto, though a thorough man of the sword, and one 
 
 * In this legend most of the facts respecting the Arab inroads into Spain are on 
 the authority of Arabian writers ; who had the most accurate means of informa 
 tion. 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 Span* 
 ish accounts, on the contrary, are full of the marvellous; for there were no greater 
 romancers than the monkish chroniclers. 
 
74 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 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 unfor 
 tified towns, or any unarmed and unresisting people, who re 
 mained 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 restlfiss 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, his Arabs would greet him with shouts of 
 enthusiasm. But what endeared him to them more than all 
 was his soldier-like 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 followers, and 
 squandered his own portion with open-handed generosity. 
 
 While Taric was pushing his triumphant course through 
 Andalusia, tidings of his stupendous victory on the banks of 
 the Guadalete were carried to Muza ben Nosier. Messengers 
 after messengers arrived, vying who should most extol the 
 achievements of the conqueror and the grandeur of the con 
 quest. "Taric, "said they, "has overthrown the whole force 
 of the unbelievers in one mighty battle. Their king is slain ; 
 thousands and tens of thousands of their warriors are de 
 stroyed ; the whole land lies at our mercy ; and city after city 
 is surrendering to the victorious arms of Taric. " 
 
 The heart of Muza ben Nosier sickened at these tidings, and, 
 instead of rejoicing at the success of the cause of Islam, he 
 trembled with jealous fear lest the triumphs of Taric in Spain 
 should eclipse his own victories in Africa. He despatched mis 
 sives 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 judg 
 ment ; but by the 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 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 75 
 
 a letter in advance to interrupt Taric in the midst of his career. 
 " Wherever this letter may find thee," said he, "I charge thee 
 halt with thy army and await my coming. Thy force is inade 
 quate to the subjugation of the land, and by rashly venturing, 
 thou mayst lose every thing. I will be with thee speedily, 
 with a reinforcement of troops competent to so great an enter 
 prise." 
 
 The letter overtook the veteran Taric while in the full glow 
 of triumphant success; having overrun some of the richest- 
 parts of Andalusia, and just received the surrender of the city 
 of Ecija. As he read the letter the blood mantled in his sun 
 burnt 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 Wali with a mighty force 
 to assist us in our conquest." 
 
 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 on to victory?" 
 
 Count Julian, also, who was present, now hastened to give 
 his traitorous counsel. 
 
 "Why pause," cried he, "at this precious moment? The 
 great army 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 yourself 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, therefore, he pre 
 pared 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 sup 
 plied 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 for 
 bidden, also, to encumber themselves with booty, or even with 
 
 *iConde, p. 1, c. 10 
 
76 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 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 renegado, Magued el 
 Rumi, a man of desperate courage ; and sent it against the an 
 cient city of Cordova. Another was sent against the city of 
 Malaga, and was led by Zayd 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 II. 
 
 CAPTURE OF GRANADA SUBJUGATION OF THE ALPUXARRA 
 MOUNTAINS. 
 
 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, <fhe 
 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. 
 
 After marching some distance through the country, he 
 entered one day a vast and beautiful plain, interspersed with 
 villages, adorned with groves and gardens, watered by wind 
 ing rivers, and surrounded by lofty mountains. It was the 
 famous vega, or plain of Granada, destined 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 formida 
 ble 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, con 
 trasting with the smiling beauty of its vega, and the freshness 
 and voluptuous abundance of its hills and valleys. He pitched 
 
 * Cronica de Espafia, de Alonzo el Sabio. P. 3, c. 1. 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 77 
 
 his tents before its walls, and made preparations 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 Gaudalete ; 
 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 disposed 
 to take part with the conquerors. The city, therefore, readily 
 capitulated, and was received into vassalage on favourable 
 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 
 *uch as they had been accustomed to pay to their Gothic 
 kings. 
 
 On taking possession of Granada, Taric garrisoned the tow 
 ers and castles, and left as alcayde or governor a chosen war 
 rior named Betiz Aben Habuz, a native of Arabia 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.f 
 
 Even the delights of Granada had no power to detain the 
 active and ardent Taric. To the east of the city he beheld a 
 lofty chain of mountains, towering to the sky, and crowned 
 with shining snow. These were the " Mountains of the Sun 
 and Air ;" and the perpetual snows on their summits gave birth 
 to streams that fertilized 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 everlasting 
 
 tThe house shown as the ancient residence of Aben Habuz is called la Casa del 
 Gallo, or the house of the weathercock; so named, says Pedraza, in his history of 
 Granada, from a bronze figure of an Arab horseman, armed with lance and buck 
 ler, which once surmounted it, and which varied with every wind. On this warlike 
 weathercock was inscribed, in Arabic characters, 
 
 Dice el sabio Aben Habuz 
 Que asi se defiende el Andaluz. 
 
 (In this way, says Aben Habuz the wise, 
 The Andalusian his foe defies.) 
 
 The Casa del Gallo, even until within twenty years, possessed two great halls 
 beautifully decorated with morisco reliefs. It then caught fire and was so dam 
 aged as to require to be nearly rebuilt. It is now a manufactory of coarse canvas, 
 and has nothing of the Moorish character remaining. It commands a beautiful 
 view of the city and the vega. 
 
78 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 fortresses that could never be taken. The inhabitants of the 
 surrounding country had fled to these natural 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 com 
 mand of Granada, he marched with his army across the vega, 
 and entered the folds of the Sierra, which stretch towards the 
 south. The inhabitants fled with affright on hearing the 
 Moorish trumpets, or beholding the approach of the turbaned 
 horsemen, and plunged deeper into the recesses of their moun 
 tains. 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 precipices of variegated 
 marble. At their feet were little valleys enamelled with 
 groves and gardens, interlaced with silver streams, and stud 
 ded with villages and hamlets ; but all deserted by their in 
 habitants. No one appeared to dispute the inroad of the 
 Moslems, who continued their march with increasing confi 
 dence, 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 mountains seemed to 
 have been rent asunder to make way for a foaming torrent. 
 The narrow and broken road wound along the dizzy edge of 
 precipices, until it came to where a bridge was thrown across 
 the chasm. It was a fearful and gloomy pass; great beetling 
 cliffs overhung the road, and the torrent roared below. This 
 awful defile has ever been famous in the warlike history of 
 those mountains, by the name, in former times, of the Bar- 
 ranco de 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 rug 
 ged road on the opposite side, when great shouts arose, and 
 every cliff 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 cava 
 liers ; and at times great masses of rock, bounding and thun 
 dering along the mountain side, crushed whole ranks at once, 
 or hurled horses and riders over the edge of the precipices. 
 
 It was in vain to attempt to brave this mountain warfare. 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 79 
 
 The enemy were beyond the reach of missiles, and safe from 
 pursuit ; and the horses of the Arabs were here an incumbrance 
 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 surrendering without a blow, was enraged at being 
 braved by a mere horde of mountain boors, and made another 
 attempt to penetrate the mountains, but was again waylaid 
 and opposed with horrible slaughter. 
 
 The fiery 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 
 oe 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 the valour 
 of the magnanimous and 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, guided 
 by the traitor, penetrated to the heart of the sierra, laying 
 every thing waste. The brave mountaineers, thus hemmed in 
 between two armies, destitute of fortresses and without hope 
 of succour, were obliged to capitulate ; but their valour was not 
 without avail, for never, even in Spain, did vanquished people 
 surrender on prouder or more honourable 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 capitulation. In 
 stipulating for the safety of his people, he did not forget that 
 they were brave men, and that they still had weapons in theip 
 
80 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 hands. He 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 to 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 territory, 
 and the whole sierra, or chain of mountains, took his name, 
 which has since been slightly corrupted into that of the 
 Alpuxarras. The subjugation of this rugged region, however, 
 was for a long time incomplete ; many of the Christians main 
 tained a wild and hostile independence, living in green glens 
 and scanty valleys among the heights ; and the sierra of the 
 Alpuxarras has, in all ages, been one of the most difficult parts 
 of Andalusia to be subdued. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 EXPEDITION OF MAGUED AGAINST CORDOVA DEFENCE OF THE 
 PATRIOT PELISTES. 
 
 WHILE the veteran Taric was making this wide circuit 
 through the land, the expedition under Magued the renegado 
 proceeded against the city of Cordova. The inhabitants of 
 that ancient place had beheld the great army of Don Roderick 
 spreading like an inundation over the plain of the Guadal 
 quivir, and had felt confident that it must sweep the infidel 
 invaders from the land. What then was their dismay, when 
 scattered fugitives, wild with horror and affright, brought 
 them tidings of the entire overthrow of that mighty host, and 
 the disappearance of the king ! In the midst of their conster 
 nation, the Gothic noble, Pelistes, arrived at their gates, hag 
 gard 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 Pelistc .,, and rallied round 
 
 * Pedraza, Hist. Granad. p. 3, c. 2. Bleda, Cronica, L. 2, c. 10. 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 81 
 
 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 nattered by the offer of command ; 
 but he felt above every thing 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 till the last, and I will undertake your defence." The 
 inhabitants all promised implicit obedience 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 of 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 deter 
 mined 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 gates and in the towers, 
 and made every preparation for a desperate resistance. 
 
 In the meantime, the army of Moslems and apostate Chris 
 tians advanced, under the command of the Greek renegado, 
 Magued, and 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 Gua- 
 lalquivir. The trembling hind was an inhabitant of Cordova, 
 nd revealed to them the state of the place, and the weakness 
 .1 its garrison. 
 
 "And the walls and gates," said Magued, "are they strong 
 .nd 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 a fig-tree, by the aid of 
 which the wall may easily be scaled." 
 Having received this information, Magued halted with his 
 
82 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 army, and sent forward several renegade Christians, partisans 
 of Count Julian, who entered Cordova as if flying before the 
 enemy. On a dark and tempestuous night, the Moslems ap 
 proached 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 make use of the long folds of their turbans 
 instead of cords, and succeeded without difficulty in clamber 
 ing into the breach. 
 
 Drawing their scimitars, they now hastened to the gate 
 which opened towards the bridge; the guards, 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 with 
 out opposition. 
 
 The alarm had by this time spread throughout the city ; but 
 already a torrent of armed men was pouring through the 
 streets. Pelistes sallied forth with his cavaliers and such of 
 the soldiery as he could collect, and endeavoured to repel the 
 foe ; but every effort was in vain. The Christians were slowly 
 driven from street to street, and square to square, disputing 
 every inch of ground ; until, finding 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 pon 
 derous 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 great thickness; the windows 
 high and grated ; there was a great tank or cistern of water, 
 and the friars, who had fled from the city, had left behind a 
 good supply of provisions. Here, then, Pelistes proposed to 
 make a stand, and to endeavour to hold out until succour should 
 arrive 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. 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 83 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 DEFENCE OF THE CONVENT OF ST. GEORGE BY PELISTES. 
 
 FOR three long and anxious months did the good knight 
 Pelistes and his cavaliers defend their sacred asylum against 
 the repeated assaults of the infidels. The standard of the true 
 faith was constantly displayed from the loftiest tower, and a 
 fire blazed there throughout the night, as signals of distress to 
 the surrounding country. The watchman from his turret kept 
 a wary lookout over the land, hoping in every cloud of dust 
 to descry the glittering helms of Christian warriors. The 
 country, however, was forlorn and abandoned, or if per 
 chance a human being was perceived, it was some Arab horse 
 man, careering the plain of the Guadalquivir as fearlessly as 
 if it were his native desert. 
 
 By degrees the provisions of the convent were consumed, 
 and the cavaliers had to slay their horses, one by one, for food. 
 They suffered the wasting miseries of famine without a mur 
 mur, and always met their commander with a smile. Pelistes, 
 however, read their sufferings in their wan and emaciated 
 countenances, and felt more for them than for himself. He 
 was grieved at heart that such loyalty and valour 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 their being 
 opened; no one will suspect a solitary horseman; I shall be 
 taken 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 vigilant lookout 
 toward the nearest mountain. If you behold five lights blaz 
 ing upon its summit, be assured I am at hand with succour, 
 and prepare yourselves to sally forth upon the city as I attack 
 
84 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 the gates. Should I fail in obtaining aid, I will return to die 
 with you. " 
 
 When he had finished, his warriors would fain have severally 
 undertaken the 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 Pelistes appeared in complete armour. As 
 sembling 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, "God knows, my com 
 panions, " said he, whether we have any longer a country ; if 
 not, better were we in our graves. Loyal and true have ye been 
 to me, and loyal have ye been to my son, even to the hour of 
 his death ; and grieved am I that I have no other means of 
 proving 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 brave men 
 and Christian cavaliers, and never to renounce your faith, or 
 throw yourselves on the mercy of the renegado Magued, or the 
 traitor Julian." They aU pledged their words, and took a 
 solemn oath to the same effect before the altar. 
 
 Pelistes 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 companion in arms and as 
 a commander, but as a father; and he took lea\e of them as if 
 he had been going to his death. The warriors, on their part, 
 crowded round him in silence, kissing his hands and the hem 
 of his surcoat, and many of the sternest shed tears. 
 
 The gray of the dawning had just streaked the east, when 
 Pelistes took lance in hand, hung his shield about his neck, 
 and mounting his steed, issued quietly forth from a postern of 
 the convent. He paced slowly through the vacant streets, and 
 the tramp of his steed echoed afar 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 party was entering with cattle 
 and with beasts of burden, and he passed unheeded through 
 the throng. As soon as he was out of sight of the soldiers who 
 guarded the gate, he quickened his pace, and at length, gallop 
 ing at full speed, succeeded in gaining the mountains. Here 
 he paused, and alighted at a solitary farm-house to breathe his 
 panting steed; but had scarce put foot to ground when he 
 
5 . BJCGATIOy OF SPAiy. S5 
 
 I the distant sound of pursuit, and beheld a horseman 
 purring up the mountain. 
 
 Throwing himself again upon his steed, he abandoned the 
 xid and galloped across the rugged heights. The deep dry 
 :el of a torrent checked his career, and his horse stum- 
 g upon the margin, rolled with his rider to the bottom. 
 :es was sorely bruised by the fall, and his whole visage 
 athed in blood. His horse, too. was maimed and unable 
 - nd. so that there was no hope of escape. The enemy drew 
 near, and proved to be no other than Magued. the renegado 
 general, who had perceived him as he issued forth from the 
 city, and had followed singly in pursuit. Well met, s 
 alcayde!" exclaimed he. "and overtaken in good time. Sur 
 render yourself my prisoner. " 
 
 Pelistes made no other reply than by drawing his sword, 
 bracing his shield, and preparing for defence. Magued. though 
 an apostate, and a fierce warrior, possessed some sparks ^>f 
 knightly magnanimity. Seeing his adversary dismounted, he 
 disdained to take him at a disadvantage, but, alighting, tied 
 his horse to a tree. 
 
 The conflict that ensued was desperate and doubtful, for 
 :n had two warriors met so well matched or of equal 
 -ss. Their shields were hacked to pieces, the ground was 
 strewed with fragments of their armour, and stained with 
 their blood. They paused repeatedly to take breath : regard- 
 ich other with wonder and admiration. Pelistes, how 
 ever, had been previously injured by his fall, and fought to 
 disadvantage. The renegado perceived it, and sought not 
 y him, but to take him alive. Shifting his ground con- 
 -ly. he wearied his antagonist, who was growing weaker 
 -eaker from the loss of blood. At length Pelistes seemed 
 -iimon up all his remaining strength to make a signal 
 blow . it was skilfully parried, and he f ell prostrate upon the 
 ground. The renegado ran up. and putting his foot upon his 
 1. and the point of his scimitar to his throat, called upon 
 liim to ask his life : 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 were found by cer 
 tain Moorish cavaliers, who marvelled much at the traces of 
 that stern and bloody combat. 
 
 Finding there was yet life in the Christian knight, they laid 
 him upon one of their horses, and aiding Magued to remount 
 
86 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 his steed, proceeded slowly to the city. As the convoy passed 
 by the convent, the cavaliers 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. The 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. 
 
 MEETING BETWEEN THE PATRIOT PELISTES AND THE TRAITOR 
 
 JULIAN. 
 
 THE loyalty and prowess of the good knight Pelistes had 
 gained him the reverence even of his enemies. He was for a 
 long time disabled by his wounds, during which he was kindly 
 treated by the Arab chieftains, who strove by every courteous 
 means to cheer his sadness and make him forget that he was 
 a captive. When he was recovered from his wounds they 
 gave him a magnificent banquet, to testify their admiration of 
 his virtues. 
 
 Pelistes appeared at the banquet clad in sable armour, and 
 with a countenance pale and dejected, for 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 served 
 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 
 created him as one unknown. 
 
 When the banquet was nearly at a close, the discourse 
 turned upon the events of the war, and the Moslem chieftains, 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 87 
 
 in great courtesy, dwelt upon the merits of many of the Chris 
 tian cavaliers who had fallen in battle, and all extolled the 
 valour of those who had recently perished in the defence of the 
 convent. Pelistes remained silent for a time, and checked the 
 grief which swelled within his bosom as he thought of his de 
 voted 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 spared 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; \. 
 have beheld kindred, friends, and followers 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 cease to grieve. He was the loved companion of 
 my youth, and the steadfast associate of my graver years. He 
 was one of the most loyal of Christian knights. As a friend 
 he was loving and sincere ; as a warrior his achievements were 
 above all praise. What has become of him, alas ! I know not. 
 If fallen in battle, and I knew where his bones were laid, 
 whether bleaching on the plains of Xeres, or buried in the 
 waters of the Guadalete, I would seek them out and enshrine 
 them as the relics of a sainted patriot. Or if, like many of his 
 companions in arms, he should be driven to wander 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 good Pelistes, and they said "Who was this 
 peerless friend in whose praise thou art so fervent?" 
 
 " His name," replied Pelistes. " was Count Julian." 
 
 The Moslem warriors stared with surprise. "Noble cava 
 lier," exclaimed they, "has grief disordered thy senses? Be 
 hold thy friend living and standing before thee, and yet thou 
 dost not know him ! This, this is Count Julian !" 
 
 Upon this, Pelistes turned his eyes upon the count, and 
 regarded 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 honour 
 able 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 count reddened with anger at these words. " Pelistes," 
 
88 LEGENDS OF, THE CONQ UEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 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 mon 
 grel Moorish garb. Count Julian was a Christian, faithful and 
 devout ; but I behold in thee a renegado and an infidel. Count 
 Julian was ever loyal to his king, and foremost in his coun 
 try 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 invaders ; 
 but thou art a hoary traitor ! thy hands are stained with the 
 royal blood of the Goths, and thou hast betrayed thy country 
 and thy God! Therefore, I again repeat, man unknown! if 
 thou sayest thou art Count Julian, thou liest! My friend, 
 alas! is dead; and thou art some fiend from hell, which hast 
 taken possession of his body to dishonour his memory and 
 render him an abhorrence among men!" So saying, Pelistes 
 turned his back upon the traitor, and went forth from the 
 banquet; leaving Count Julian overwhelmed with confusion, 
 and an object of scorn to all the Moslem cavaliers. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 HOW TARIC EL TUERTO CAPTURED THE CITY OF TOLEDO THROUGH 
 THE AID OF THE JEWS, AND HOW HE FOUND THE FAMOUS 
 TALISMANIC TABLE OF SOLOMON. 
 
 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 caused by the rapid conquests of the 
 invaders, that at the very rumour of their approach, many 
 of the inhabitants, though thus in the very citadel of the 
 kingdom, abandoned it and fled to the mountains with their 
 families. Enough remained, however, to have made a formi 
 dable defence ; and. as the city was seated on a lofty rock, 
 surrounded by massive walls and towers, and almost girdled 
 by the Tagus, 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. 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 89 
 
 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 patrols of the camp brought a stranger before him. 
 As Ave 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 im 
 portant 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 for 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 com 
 pelled us to work like slaves, repairing their walls ; and they 
 oblige us 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 guard into thy hands, 
 and to give thee safe entrance into the city." 
 
 The Arab chief was overjoyed at this 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 assurance," replied the rabbi: "Ten of 
 the principal Israelites will come to this tent and remain 
 as hostages." 
 
 "It is enough," said Taric; and he made oath to accomplish 
 
90 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 all that he had promised ; 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 
 secretly admitted into a postern gate and concealed within a 
 tower. Three thousand Arabs were at the same time placed 
 in ambush among rocks and thickets, in a place on the op 
 posite 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 lance to be seen in the vega. 
 They attributed it all to the special intervention of their 
 patron saint, Leocadia; and the following day being palm 
 Sunday, they sallied forth in procession, man, woman, and 
 child, to the church of that blessed saint, which is situated 
 without the walls, that they might return thanks for her 
 marvellous protection. 
 
 When all Toledo had thus poured itself forth, and was 
 marching with cross and relic and solemn chaunt towards 
 the chapel, the Arabs, who had been concealed in the tower, 
 rushed forth and barred the gates of the city. Yfhile 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 
 who were thronging to the church of St. Leocadia. There 
 was a great massacre, although the people were without 
 arms, and made no resistance; and it is said, in ancient 
 chronicles, that it w r as 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 taken 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 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 91 
 
 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 surviving 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. Those 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 Taric in the alcazar, or royal 
 castle, situated on a rocky eminence, in the highest part of the 
 city. Among the regalia 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 crown 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 
 sound of timbrel and psaltery, hailing him as their lord, and 
 reminding him of his promises. 
 
 The 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 moneys, t 
 
 A subsequent expedition was led by Taric against Guadalax. 
 ara, which surrendered without resistance ; he moreover cap 
 tured the city of Medina Celi, where he found an inestimable 
 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 traditions affirm 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 preserved by Taric, as the most precious of all 
 his spoils, being intended by him as a present to the caliph ; 
 
 *Conde, Hist, de las Arahes en Espana, c. 12. 
 
 t 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. 
 
92 LEGENDS OP THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 and in commemoration of it the city was called by the Arabs, 
 Medina Almeyda; that is to say, "The City of the Table."* 
 
 Having made these and other conquests of less importance, 
 and having collected great quantities of gold and silver, and 
 rich stuffs and precious stones, Taric returned with his booty 
 to the royal city of Toledo. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 MUZ A. BEN NOSIER; HIS ENTRANCE INTO SPAIN, AND CAPTURE 
 
 CARMONA. 
 
 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 
 Nosier, the renowned Emir of Almagreb, and the commander- 
 in-chief of the Moslem forces of the west. When that jealous 
 chieftain had despatched his letter commanding Taric to pause 
 and await his coming, he immediately made every preparation 
 to enter Spain with a powerful reinforcement, and to take 
 command of the conquering army. He left his eldest son, 
 Abdalasis, in Caervan, 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 w^hich graced his courage. 
 
 Muza ben Nosier 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 the Koreish. He landed his shining legions on 
 the coast of Andalusia, and pitched his tents near to the Gua- 
 diana. 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. 
 
 * 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 
 feats 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 which he was renowned. 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 1KJ 
 
 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 consideration, 
 however, was to secure to himself a share in the actual con 
 quest of the land before it should be entirely subjugated. 
 
 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. The 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. Short 
 ly 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 
 different quarter of the encampment ; but the Arabs were on 
 their guard, and met them with superior numbers. After 
 fighting fiercely for a time, they were routed, and fled full 
 speed for the city, with the Arabs hard upon their traces. 
 The guards within feared to open the gate, lest with their 
 friends they should admit a torrent of enemies. Seeing them 
 selves thus shut out, the fugitives determined to die like brave 
 soldiers rather than surrender. Wheeling suddenly round, 
 they opened a path through the host of their pursuers, fought 
 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.* 
 
 Muza now ordered that the place should be taken by storm. 
 The Moslems assailed it on all sides, but were vigorously re 
 sisted; many were slain by showers of stones, arrows, and 
 boiling pitch, and many who had mounted with scaling lad 
 ders were thrown headlong from the battlements. The al- 
 cayde, Galo, aided solely by two men, defended a tower and a 
 portion of the wall ; killing and wounding with a cross-bow 
 
 * Abulcasim, Perdida de spafia, L. 1, c. 13. 
 
94 LEGENDS 01? TUB CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 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 
 a formidable resistance from so small a city ; for it was one of 
 the few places, during that memorable conquest, 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 renegado, and Count Julian the traitor, with one 
 thousand horsemen ; most of them recreant Christians, base 
 betrayers of their country, and more savage in their warfare 
 than the Arabs of the desert. To find favour in the eyes 
 of Muza, 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 warlike 
 munitions. "Open the gate quickly," cried they; "we bring 
 supplies for the garrison, but the Arabs have discovered, and 
 are in pursuit of us." The gate was thrown open, the mer 
 chants entered with their beasts of burden, and were joyfully 
 received. Meat and drink were placed before them, and after 
 they had refreshed themselves 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 
 silently, and assembling together, proceeded to what was 
 called the Gate of Cordova. Here setting suddenly upon the 
 unsuspecting guards, they put them to the edge of the sword, 
 and throwing open the 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 the streets; a horrible massacre was commenced, in 
 which none were spared but such of the females as were young 
 and beautiful, and fitted to grace the harems of the conquerors. 
 The arrival of Muza, put an end to the pilla,ge and the slaugh 
 ter, and he granted favourable terms to the survivors. Thus 
 the valiant little city of Carmona, after nobly resisting the 
 open assaults of the infidels, fell a victim to the treachery of 
 apostate Christians. * 
 
 * Cron. gen. de Espafia, por Alonzo el Sabio. P. 3, c. 1. 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 95 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MUZA MARCHES AGAINST THE CITY OF SEVILLE. 
 
 AFTER the capture of Carmona, Muza descended into a noble 
 plain, covered with fields of grain, with orchards and gardens, 
 through which glided the soft-flowing Guadalquivir. On the 
 borders of the river stood the .ancient city of Seville, sur 
 rounded by Roman walls, and defended by its golden tower. 
 Understanding from his spies that the city had lost the flower of 
 its youth in the battle of the Guadalete, Muza anticipated but a 
 faint resistance. A considerable force, however, still remained 
 within the place, and what they wanted in numbers they made 
 up in resolution. For some days they withstood the assaults 
 of the enemy, and defended their walls with great courage. 
 Their want of warlike munitions, however, and the superior 
 force and skill of the besieging army, left them no hope of 
 being able to hold out long. There were two youthful cava 
 liers of uncommon valour in the city. They assembled the 
 warriors and addressed them. "We cannot save the city," 
 said they ; but at least we may save ourselves, and preserve 
 so many strong arms for the service of our country. Let us 
 cut our way through the infidel force and gain some secure 
 fortress, from whence we may return with augmented num 
 bers for the rescue of the city. " 
 
 The 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 horse oack. 
 Suddenly sallying from one of the gates, they rushed in a com 
 pact body upon the camp of the Saracens, which was negli 
 gently guarded, for the Moslems expected no such act of 
 desperation. The 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 his tent, offering submission and imploring 
 mercy, for none were left in the place but the old, the infirm, 
 and the miserable. Muza listened to them with compassion, 
 
96 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN . 
 
 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. 
 
 MUZA BESIEGES THE OITY OF MERIDA. 
 
 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 into 
 peaceful vassalage. One city alone prepared for vigorous de 
 fence, the ancient Merida, a place of great extent, uncounted 
 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 
 country, with their horses and mules, their flocks and herds 
 and most precious effects. To insure for a long time a supply 
 of bread, he filled the magazines with grain, and erected wind 
 mills on the churches. This done, he laid waste the surround 
 ing country to a great extent, so that a besieging army would 
 have to encamp in a desert. 
 
 When Muza came in sight of this magnificent city, he was 
 struck with admiration. He remained for some time gazing 
 in silence upon its mighty walls and lordly towers, its vast ex 
 tent, and the stately palaces and temples with which it was 
 adorned. "Surely," cried he, at length, "all the people of the 
 earth have combined their power and skill to embellish and 
 aggrandize this city. Allah Achbar ! Happy will he be who 
 shall 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 resistance, 
 he sent messengers to Africa to his son Abdalasis, to collect all 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 97 
 
 the forces that could be spared from the garrisons of Mauri 
 tania, and to hasten and reinforce him. 
 
 While Muza was forming his encampment, deserters from 
 the city brought him word that a chosen band intended to 
 sally forth at midnight and surprise his camp. The Arab com 
 mander immediately took measures to receive them with a 
 counter surprise. Having formed his plan, and communicated 
 it to his principal officers, he ordered that, throughout the day, 
 there should be kept up an appearance of negligent confusion 
 in his encampment. The outposts were feebly guarded ; fires 
 were lighted in various places, as 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 
 security on the plunder of the land. As the night advanced, 
 the fires were gradually extinguished, and silence ensued, as if 
 the soldiery had sunk into deep sleep after the carousal. 
 
 In the meantime, bodies of troops had been secretly and 
 silently marched to reinforce the outposts; 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 ap 
 proach of the enemy in- breathless silence. 
 
 About midnight, the chosen force intended for the sally 
 assembled, and the command was confided to Count Tendero, 
 a Gothic cavalier of tried prowess. After having heard a 
 solemn mass and received the benediction of the priest, they 
 marched out of the gate with all possible silence. They were 
 suffered to pass the ambuscade in the quarry without molesta 
 tion; as they approached the Moslem camp, every thing ap 
 peared quiet, for the foot-soldiers were concealed in slopes and 
 hollows, and every Arab horseman lay in his armour beside 
 his steed. The sentinels on the outposts waited until the 
 Christians were close at hand, and then fled in apparent con 
 sternation. 
 
 Count Tendero gave the signal for assault, and the Chris 
 tians rushed confidently forward. In an instant an uproar of 
 drums, trumpets, and shrill war-cries burst forth from every 
 side. An army seemed to spring up from the earth ; squadrons 
 of horse came thundering on them in front, while the quarry 
 poured forth legions of armed warriors in their rear. 
 
 The noise of the terrific 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 confusion of the 
 
08 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 Arab camp. In a little while, however, they were undeceived 
 by fugitives from the fight, 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 devils !" 
 
 The greater part of the chosen troops who had sallied, were 
 cut to pieces in that scene of massacre, for they had been con 
 founded 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. The renegado Magued cut off his head and 
 tied it to the tail of his horse, and repaired with this savage 
 trophy to the tent of Muza ; but the hostility of the Arab gen 
 eral was of a less malignant kind. He ordered that the head 
 and body should be placed together upon a bier and treated 
 with becoming reverence. 
 
 In the course of the day a train of priests and friars came 
 forth from the city to request permission to seek for the body 
 of the count. Muza delivered it to them, with many soldier 
 like encomiums on the valour of that good cavalier. The 
 priests covered it with a pall of cloth of- gold, and bore it back 
 in melancholy procession to the city, where it was received 
 with loud lamentations. 
 
 The siege was now pressed with great vigour, and repeated 
 assaults were made, but in vain. Muza saw, at length, that the 
 walls were too high to be scaled, and the gates too strong to be 
 burst open without the aid of engines, and he desisted from 
 the attack until machines for the purpose could be constructed. 
 The governor suspected from this cessation of active warfare, 
 that the enemy flattered themselves tc reduce the place by fa 
 mine; he caused, therefore, large baskets of bread to be thrown 
 from the wall, and sent a messenger to Muza to inform him that 
 if his army should be in want of bread, he would supply it, hav 
 ing sufficient corn in his granaries for a ten years siege.* 
 
 The citizens, however, did not possess the undaunted spirit 
 of their governor. When they found that the Moslems were 
 constructing tremendous engines for the destruction of their 
 walls, they lost all courage, and, surrounding the governor in 
 a clamorous multitude, compelled him to send forth persons to 
 capitulate. 
 
 * jBJeda, Crouica, L. 3. c, 11, 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 99 
 
 The ambassadors came into the presence of Muza with awe, 
 for 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 the previous night without sleep, and had been all 
 day in the field ; he was exhausted, therefore, by watchfulness 
 and fatigue, and his garments were covered with dust. 
 
 "What a devil of a man is this," murmured the ambassa 
 dors, one to another, u 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 than the life of this gray- 
 beard." 
 
 They returned to the city, therefore, scoifing at an invader 
 who seemed fitter to lean on a crutch than wield a lance ; and 
 the terms offered by Muza, which would otherwise have been 
 thought favourable, were scornfully rejected by the inhabitants. 
 A few days put an end to this mistaken confidence. Abdalasis, 
 the son of Muza, arrived from Africa at the head of his rein 
 forcement ; he brought seven thousand horsemen and a host of 
 Barbary archers, and made a glorious display as he marched 
 into the camp. The arrival of this youthful warrior was 
 hailed with great acclamations, so much had he won the hearts 
 of the soldiery by the frankness, the suavity, and generosity 
 of his conduct. Immediately after his arrival a grand assault 
 was made upon the city, and several of the huge 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 surrender. 
 When admitted to the presence of Muza, the ambassadors 
 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 him 
 self old and young at pleasure." 
 
 Muza received them haughtily. * Hence, " said he, and tell 
 your people I grant them the same terms I have alreadv prof- 
 
100 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 fered, 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 pleasure? Behold, we left the leader 
 of the infidels an old and feeble man, and to-day we find him 
 youthful and vigorous. " * 
 
 The place was, therefore, surrendered forthwith, and Muza 
 entered it in triumph. His terms were merciful. Those who 
 chose to remain were protected in persons, possessions, and 
 religion ; he took the property of those only who abandoned 
 the city or had fallen in battle ; together with all arms and 
 horses, and the treasures and ornaments 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 
 Nabuchodonosor. This precious relic was sent by Muza to the 
 caliph, and was placed in the principal mosque of the city of 
 Damascus.! 
 
 Muza knew how to esteem merit even in an enemy. When 
 Sacarus, the governor of Merida, appeared before him, he 
 lauded him greatly for the skill and courage he had displayed 
 in the defence of his city ; and, taking off his own scimitar, 
 which was of great value, girded it upon him with his own 
 hands. "Wear this," said he, "as a poor memorial of my 
 admiration ; a soldier of such virtue and valour is worthy of 
 far 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 refused to bend to the 
 yoke of the conquerors; nor could he bring himself 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 ocean pilgrims landed upon has 
 never been revealed ; but tradition vaguely gives us to believe 
 
 * Conde. p. 1, c. 13. Ambrosio de Morales. N. B. In the chronicle of Spain, 
 composed by order of Alonzo the Wise, this anecdote is given as having happened 
 at the siege of Seville. 
 
 t Marmol. Descrip. de Africa, T. 1, L. 2. 
 
LEGEND Of THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 101 
 
 that it was some unknown island far in the bosom of the 
 Atlantic.* 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 EXPEDITION OP ABDALASIS AGAINST SEVILLE AND THE "LAND 
 OF TADMIR." 
 
 AFTER the capture of Merida, Muza gave a grand banquet 
 to his captains and distinguished warriors in that magnificent 
 city. At this martial feast were many Arab cavaliers who had 
 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. While 
 they talked with ardour and exultation, Abdalasis, the son of 
 Muza, alone kept silence, and sat with a dejected countenance. 
 At length, when there was a pause, he turned to his father 
 and addressed him with modest earnestness. " My lord and 
 father," said he, "I blush to hear your warriors recount the 
 toils and dangers they have passed, while I have done nothing 
 to entitle me to their companionship. When I return to Egypt 
 and present myself before the caliph, he will ask me of my 
 services in Spain; what battle I have gained; what town or 
 castle I have taken. How shall I answer him? If you love 
 me, then, as your son, give me a command, entrust to me 
 an enterprise, and let me acquire a name worthy to be men 
 tioned among men." 
 
 The eyes of Muza kindled with joy at finding Abdalasis thus 
 ambitious of renown in arms. " Allah be praised!" exclaimed 
 he, "the heart of my son is in the right place. It is becoming 
 in youth to look upwards and be aspiring. Thy desire, Ab 
 dalasis, shall be gratified." 
 
 An opportunity at that very tune presented itself to prove 
 the prowess and discretion of the youth. During the siege of 
 Merida, the Christian troops which had taken refuge at Beja 
 had reinforced themselves from Penaflor, and suddenly return 
 ing, had presented themselves before the gates of the city of 
 Seville, t Certain of the Christian inhabitants threw open the 
 
 * Abulcasim, Perdida de Espafia, L. 1, c. 13. 
 t Espinosa, Antq. 7 Grand, de Seville, L. 2, c. 3. 
 
302 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 gates and admitted them. The troops rushed to the alcazar, 
 took it by surprise, and put many of the Moslem garrison tc 
 the sword; the residue made their escape, and fled to the 
 Arab camp before Merida, leaving Seville in the hands of the 
 Christians. 
 
 The veteran Muza, 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 ambition ! 
 Take with thee all the troops thou hast brought from Africa ; 
 reduce the city of Seville again to subjection, und plant thy 
 standard upon its alcazar. But stop not there : carry thy con 
 quering sword into the southern parts of Spain ; thou will find 
 there a harvest of glory yet to be reaped." 
 
 Abdalasis lost no time in departing upon this enterprise. 
 He took with him Count Julian, Magued el Rumi, and the 
 Bishop Oppas, that he might benefit by their knowledge of the 
 country. When he came in sight of the fair city of Seville, 
 seated like a queen in the midst of its golden plain, with the 
 Guadalquivir flowing beneath its walls, he gazed upon it with 
 the admiration of a lover, and lamented in his soul that he 
 had to visit it as an avenger. His troops, however, regarded 
 it with wrathful eyes, thinking only of its rebellion, and of 
 the massacre of their countrymen in the alcazar. 
 
 The principal people in the city had taken no part in this 
 gallant but fruitless insurrection ; and now, when they beheld 
 the army of Abdalasis encamped upon the banks ot the 
 Guadalquivir, would fain have gone forth to make explana 
 tions, and intercede for mercy. The populace, however, for 
 bade any one to leave the city, and barring the gates, prepared 
 to defend themselves to the last. 
 
 The place was attacked with resistless fury. The gates were 
 soon burst open; the Moslems rushed in, panting for revenge. 
 They confined not their slaughter to the soldiery in the alca 
 zar, but roamed through every street, confounding the inno 
 cent with the guilty in one bloody massacre, and it was with 
 the utmost difficulty that Abdalasis could at length succeed in 
 staying their sanguinary career.* 
 
 The son of Muza proved himself as mild in conquest as he 
 had been intrepid in assault. The moderation and benignity 
 of his conduct soothed the terrors of the vanquished, and his 
 
 * Conae, P. 1, c, 14. 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 103 
 
 wise precautions restored tranquillity. Having made proper 
 regulations for the protection of the inhabitants, he left a 
 strong garrison in tne place to prevent any future insurrec 
 tion, 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 magnanimity. 
 At length he arrived on the confines of that beautiful region 
 comprising lofty and precipitous mountains and rich and deli 
 cious plains, afterwards known by the name of the kingdom 
 of Murcia. All this part of the country was defended by the 
 veteran Theodomir, who, by skilful management, had saved a 
 remnant of his forces after the defeat on the banks of the 
 Guadalete. 
 
 Theodomir was a stanch warrior, but a wary and prudent 
 man. He had experienced the folly of opposing the Arabs in open 
 field, where their cavalry and armour gave them such superior 
 ity; on their approach, therefore, he assembled all his people 
 capable of bearing arms, and took possession of the cliffs and 
 mountain passes. 4 Here, " said he, "a simple goatherd, who 
 can hurl down rocks and stones, is as good as 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 waylaying it in narrow and 
 rugged defiles, where a few raw troops could make stand 
 against a host. 
 
 Theodomir was in a fair way to baffle his foes and oblige 
 them to withdraw from his territories; unfortunately, how 
 ever, the wary veteran had two sons with him, young men of 
 hot and heavy valour, 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 they, "is 
 to be gained by destroying an enemy in this way, from the co 
 vert 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 seized 
 on the opportunity and threw himself between the Goths and 
 their mountain fastnesses. 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 cas- 
 
104 LBQBNDS OP THE CONQUEST OP SPAIfr 
 
 ties? Let us make a rapid retreat to Orihuela and defend our* 
 selves 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 advance. 
 Fear nothing; am not I your son, and would I not die to de 
 fend you?" 
 
 " In truth," replied the veteran, " I have my doubts whether 
 you are my son. But if I remain here, and you should all be 
 killed, where then would be my protection? 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 late." 
 
 "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 act 
 with valour, but her curse should I prove craven and fly the 
 field. Fear nothing, father; I will defend you while living, 
 and even after you are dead. You shall never fail of an hon 
 ourable sepulture among your kindred." 
 
 "A pestilence on ye both," cried Theodomir, " for a brace of 
 misbegotten madmen ! What care 1, think ye, where ye lay my 
 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 cavaliers, * let us leave these 
 hot-headed striplings and make our retreat ; if we tarry any 
 longer the enemy will be upon us." 
 
 Upon this the cavaliers and proud hidalgoes drew up scorn 
 fully and tossed their heads: "What do you see in us," said 
 they, " that you think we will show our backs to the enemy? 
 Forward ! was ever the good old Gothic watchword, and with 
 that we will 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 spur 
 ring 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 offspring of one of 
 my handmaids who was kind unto me." And indeed the youth 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 105 
 
 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 be barred and bolted, he prepared to 
 receive the enemy. There were but few men in the city capa 
 ble of bearing arms, most of the youth having fallen in the field. 
 He caused the women, therefore, to clothe themselves 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 these 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 numer 
 ously 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 commander 
 of this city to treat for terms worthy of your magnanimity and 
 of his dignity. You perceive that the city is capable of with 
 standing a long siege, but he is desirous of spa-ring the lives of 
 his soldiers, promise that the inhabitants sliall be at liberty 
 to depart unmolested with their property, and the city will be 
 delivered up to you to-morrow morning without a blow ; other 
 wise we are prepared to fight until not a man be left." 
 
 Abdalasis was well pleased to get so powerful a place upon 
 such easy terms, but stipulated that the garrison should lay 
 down their arms. To this Theodomir readily assented, with 
 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 Abdalasis had 
 affixed his name and seal, Theodomir 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 commander 
 of the place in thus venturing personally into his power, and 
 entertained the veteran with still greater honour. When Theo 
 domir returned to the city, he made known the capitulation, 
 and charged the inhabitants to pack 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 Abdala 
 sis looked to see a great force issuing forth, but, to his surprise, 
 
106 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 beheld merely Tkeodomir and his page in battered armour, 
 followed by a multitude of old men, women, and children. 
 
 Abdalasis waited until the whole had come forth, then turn 
 ing to Theodomir, "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 gar 
 rison, 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 com 
 plied with; but Abdalasis relished the stratagem of the old 
 soldier, and ordered that the stipulations of the treaty should 
 be faithfully performed. Nay, so high an opinion did he con 
 ceive of the subtle wisdom of this commander, that he permit 
 ted him to remain in authority over the surrounding country 
 on his acknowledging allegiance and engaging to pay tribute 
 to the caliph ; and all that part of Spain, comprising the beau 
 tiful provinces of Murcia and Valencia, was long after known 
 by the Arabic name of its defender, and is still 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 as 
 valour, Abdalasis returned with the chief part of his army to 
 the city of Seville. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 MUZA ARRIVES AT TOLEDO INTERVIEW BETWEEN HIM AND 
 
 TARIC. 
 
 WHEN Muza ben Nosier 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 jealous and ambitious heart? 
 As Muza passed through the land, towns and cities submit 
 ted to him without resistance ; he was lost in wonder at the 
 richness of the country and noble monuments of art with 
 which it was adorned ; when he beheld the bridges, construct- 
 
 * Conde, p. 1. Crouica del Moro Rasis. Cron. gen. Espaiia, por Alonzo el Sabio, 
 p. 3, c. 1. 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 107 
 
 ed in ancient times by the Romans, they seemed to him the 
 work, not of men, bub of genii. Yet all these admirable ob 
 jects only made htm repine the more that he had not had the 
 exclusive glory of invading and subduing the land ; and exas 
 perating him the more against Taric, for having apparently 
 endeavoured to monopolize the conquest. 
 
 Taric heard of his approach, and came forth to meet him at 
 Talavera, accompanied by many of the most distinguished 
 companions of his victories, and with a train of horses and 
 mules laden with spoils, with which he trusted to propitiate 
 the favour of his commander. Their meeting took place on 
 the banks of the rapid river Tietar, 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, had cherished and considered him as a sec 
 ond 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, he regarded him for a moment with a stern and in 
 dignant aspect. " Why hast thou disobeyed my orders?" said 
 he. "I commanded thee to await my arrival with reinforce 
 ments, but thou hast rashly overrun the country, endangering 
 the loss of our armies and the ruin of our cause." 
 
 " I have acted," replied Taric, "in such manner 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 commander-in-chief , of 
 the spoils which I have collected." So saying, he produced an 
 immense treasure in silver and gold and costly stuffs, and pre 
 cious stones, and spread it before Muza. 
 
 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 pres 
 ent, 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 ac 
 count 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 conscience in. fortune hast thou 
 
108 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 shown," said he, "in overrunning such a country and assail 
 ing such powerful cities with thy scanty force ! What mad 
 ness, to venture every thing 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 
 judgment 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, and their countenances were gloomy and discontented ; 
 for they felt the injustice done to their favourite leader. As to 
 Taric, though his eye burned like fire, he kept his passion 
 within bounds. I have done the best I could to serve God 
 and the caliph, "said he, emphaticalty ; " my conscience 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 every thing at hazard. Such a 
 general is unworthy to be intrusted with the fate of armies." 
 
 So saying, he divested Taric of his command, and gave it to 
 Magued the renegado. The gaunt Taric still maintained an air 
 of stern composure. His 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, Magued el Rumi, though he had risen by the dis 
 grace of Taric, had the generosity to speak out warmly in his 
 favour. "Consider," said he to Muza, " what may be the con 
 sequences of this severity. Taric 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 dis 
 grace 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 Magued. 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 
 
 * Conde, Part 1, c. J& 
 
LEGEND OF TUP: SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 109 
 
 Upon himself, in endeavouring 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 around him a severe censure upon his conduct. He con 
 cealed, however, his deep humiliation, and affected to obey 
 the orders of his sovereign with great alacrity ; he released 
 Taric from prison, feasted him at his own table, and then pub 
 licly replaced him at the head of his troops. The army re 
 ceived its favourite veteran with shouts of joy, and celebrated 
 with rejoicings the reconciliation of the commanders ; but the 
 shouts of the soldiery were abhorrent to the ears of Muza. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MUZA PROSECUTES THE SCHEME OF CONQUEST SIEGE OF SARA- 
 GOSSA. COMPLETE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 
 
 THE dissensions, which for a time had distracted the con 
 quering army, being appeased, and the Arabian generals being 
 apparently once more reconciled, Muza, as commander-in- 
 chief, proceeded to complete the enterprise by subjugating 
 the northern parts of Spain. The same expeditious mode of 
 conquest that had been sagaciously adopted by Taric, was still 
 pursued. The troops were lightly armed, and freed from 
 every superfluous 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 surcout 
 and for bed. The infantry carried nothing but their arms. 
 To each regiment or squadron was allowed a limited number of 
 simipter mules and attendants ; barely enough to carry their 
 necessary baggage and supplies: nothing was permitted that 
 could needlessly diminish the number of fighting men, delay 
 their rapid movements, or consume their provisions. 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 
 
 * Conde, p. 1, c. 15. 
 
110 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 under Taric departed towards the northeast; beating up the 
 country towards the source of the Tagus; traversing the chain 
 of the Iberian or Arragonian mountains, and pouring down 
 into the plains and valleys watered by the Ebro. It was won 
 derful to see, in so brief a space of time, such a vast and diffi 
 cult country penetrated and subdued, and the invading army, 
 like an inundating flood, pouring its streams into the most 
 remote recesses. 
 
 While Taric was thus sweeping the country to the northeast, 
 Muza departed in an opposite direction ; yet purposing to meet 
 him, and join their forces in the north. Bending his course 
 westwardly, he made a circuit behind the mountains, and 
 then, advancing into the open country, displayed his banners 
 before Salamanca, which surrendered without resistance. 
 From hence 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 east ; crossed the Sierra de Moncayo, and, arriving 
 on the banks of the Ebro, marched down along its stream, 
 until he approached the strong city of Saragossa, the citadel of 
 all that part of Spain. In this place had taken refuge many of 
 the most valiant of the Gothic warriors; the remnants of 
 armies, and fugitives from conquered cities. It was one of the 
 last rallying points of the land. When Muza arrived, Taric 
 had already been for some time before the place, laying close 
 siege ; the inhabitants were pressed by famine, and had suffered 
 great losses in repeated combats, but there was a spirit and 
 obstinacy in their resistance surpassing any thing that had 
 yet been witnessed by the invaders. 
 
 Muza now took command of the siege, and ordered a general 
 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 combusti 
 bles to be placed against one of the gates, and set on fire. The 
 inhabitants attempted in vain from the barbican to extinguish 
 the flames. They burnt so fiercely, that in a little while the 
 gate fell from its 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 renegado, with $ 
 troop of horse. 
 
LEGEND OP TllH SUBJUGATION OF SPATtf. Hi 
 
 The inhabitants disputed every street and public square; 
 they made barriers of dead bodies, fighting behind these rani- 
 parts of their slaughtered countrymen. Every window and 
 roof was filled with combatants ; the very women and children 
 joined in the desperate fight, throwing down stones and mis 
 siles 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 surrender. 
 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 the 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 themselves 
 from the edge of the sword. The people were obliged to com 
 ply. They collected all the jewels of their richest families, 
 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 Saragossa was subdued to the yoke 
 of the conqueror. 
 
 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 Denia. 
 
 Muza undertook with his host a wider range of conquest. 
 He overcame the cities of Barcelona, Gerona, 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 found seven equestrian images of silver, 
 which he brought off as trophies of his victory.* Returning 
 into Spain, he scoured its northern regions along Gallicia and 
 the Asturias; passed triumphantly through Lusitania, 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 
 
 * Conde, p. 1, c. 16. 
 
LEGENDS OF Tim COKQUKST OF SPAIN. 
 
 indefatigable chronicler, Fray Antonio Agapida, goes on to 
 record the fate of those persons who were most renowned in 
 the enterprise. We shall follow his steps, and avail ourselves 
 of his information, laboriously collected from various sources ; 
 and, truly, the story of each of the actors in this great his 
 torical drama, bears with it its striking moral, and is full of 
 admonition and instruction 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 FEUD BETWEEN THE ARAB GENERALS THEY ARE SUMMONED TO 
 APPEAR BEFORE THE CALIPH AT DAMASCUS RECEPTION OF 
 TARIC. 
 
 THE heart of Muza ben Nosier was now lifted up, for he con 
 sidered his glory complete. He held a sway that might have 
 gratified the ambition of the proudest sovereign, for all west 
 ern 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 outward reconciliation of Muza and 
 Taric, a deep and implacable hostility continued to exist be 
 tween them; and each had busy partisans who distracted the 
 armies by their feuds. Letters were incessantly despatched to 
 Damascus by either party, exalting the merits of their own 
 leader and decrying his rival. Taric was represented 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. Muza 
 was lauded as prudent, sagacious, dignified, and systematic in 
 his dealings. The friends of Taric, on the other hand, repre 
 sented him as brave, generous, and high-minded; scrupulous 
 in reserving to his sovereign his rightful share of the spoils, 
 but distributing the rest bounteously among his soldiers, and 
 thus increasing their alacrity in the service. "Muza, on the 
 contrary," said they, "is grasping and insatiable; he levies 
 intolerable contributions and collects immense treasure, but 
 sweeps it all into his own coffers." 
 
LEGEND OF TllK SUBJUGATION 0V SPAIN. 113 
 
 The caliph was at length wearied 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, there 
 fore, ordering them to leave suitable persons in charge of their 
 several commands, and appear, forthwith, before him at Da 
 mascus. 
 
 Such was the greeting from his sovereign that awaited Muza 
 on his return from the conquest of northern Spain. It was 
 a grievous blow to a man of his pride and ambition ; but he 
 prepared instantly to obey. He returned to Cordova, collect 
 ing by the way all the treasures he had deposited in various 
 places. At that city he called a meeting of his principal 
 officers, and of the leaders of the faction of apostate Christians, 
 and made them all do homage to his son Abdalasis, as emir or 
 governor of Spain. He gave this favourite- 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 con 
 fidence ; assuring them that he would soon return, loaded with 
 new favours and honours by his sovereign, and enabled to re 
 ward them all for their faithful services. 
 
 When Muza sallied forth from Cordova, to repair to Damas 
 cus, his cavalgada appeared like the sumptuous pageant of 
 some oriental potentate; for he had numerous guards and 
 attendants splendidly armed and arrayed, together with four 
 hundred hostages, who were youthful cavaliers of the noblest 
 families 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 con 
 quered, he looked 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, lie checked 
 his steed upon the summit of a hill, and gazed for a long time 
 upon its palaces and towers. O Cordova I" exclaimed he, 
 " great and glorious art thou among cities, and abundant in all 
 
114 EK&EtfDS OF THE COXQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 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 wayfaring; but his eyes 
 were bent upon the ground, and frequent sighs bespoke the 
 heaviness of his heart. 
 
 Embarking at Cadiz he passed over to Africa with all his 
 people and eft ects, to regulate his government in that country. 
 He divided the command between his sons, Abdelola and Me- 
 ruan, 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 
 country he had conquered, he departed for Syria, bearing with 
 him the sumptuous spoils of the west. 
 
 While Muza was thus disposing of his commands, and mov 
 ing cumbrously under the weight of wealth, the veteran Tarie 
 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 spoils 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 was re 
 ceived, 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-! Behold the true 
 model of a warrior, who despises gain and seeks for nought but 
 glory!" 
 
 Taric was graciously received by the caliph, who asked 
 tidings of his victories. He gave a soldier-like account of hig 
 actions, frank and full, without any feigned modesty, yet with 
 out 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 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. H5 
 
 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 
 vanquished 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 hospitality; 
 but they are the most perfidious people upon earth, and never 
 regard promise or plighted faith. " 
 
 " And the people of Afranc; what sayest thou of them?" 
 
 They are infinite in number, rapid in the onset, fierce in 
 battle, but confused and headlong in flight. " 
 
 "And how fared 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. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MUZA ARRIVES AT DAMASCUS HIS INTERVIEW WITH THE CA 
 LIPHTHE TABLE OF SOLOMON A RIGOROUS SENTENCE. 
 
 SHORTLY after the arrival of Taric el Tuerto at Damascus, the 
 caliph fell dangerously ill, insomuch that his life was despaired 
 of. During his illness, tidings were brought that Muza ben 
 Nosier had entered Syria with a vast cavalcade, bearing all 
 the riches and trophies gained in the western conquests. 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 commencement of his reign by 
 this triumphant display of the spoils of Christendom ; he sent 
 messengers, therefore, to Muza, saying, "The caliph is ill 
 
116 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 cannot receive thee at present ; I pray thee tarry on the road 
 until 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 heart. 
 
 Muza entered the city in a kind of triumph, with a long 
 train of horses and mules and camels laden with treasure, 
 and with the four 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 be 
 holders. As lie passed through the streets he ordered purses 
 of gold to be thrown among the populace, who rent the air 
 with acclamations. "Behold," cried they, "the veritable 
 conqueror of the unbelievers ! Behold the true model of a 
 conqueror, who brings home wealth to his conntry!" And 
 they heaped benedictions on the head of Muza. 
 
 The Caliph Waled 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, magnificentlr 
 attired, and with Christian damsels, lovely as the houries ot 
 paradise. When the caliph demanded an account of the con 
 quest 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 deli 
 vered to the caliph the miraculous table of Solomon, he dwelt 
 with animation on the virtues of that inestimable talisman. 
 
 Upon this, Taric, who was present, could no longer hold his 
 peace. " Commander of the faithful, " said he, "examine this 
 precious table, if any part be wanting." The caliph examined 
 the table, which was composed of a single emerald, and he 
 found that one foot was supplied with a foot of gold. The 
 caliph turned to Muza and said, Where is the other foot of 
 the table?" Muza answered, "I know not; one foot was 
 wanting when it came into my hands." Upon this, Taric drew 
 from beneath his robe a foot of emerald of like workmanship 
 to the others, and fitting exactly to the table. Behold, O com 
 mander 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 achievements. It was I 
 who gained them, and who captured the cities in which they 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. H7 
 
 were found. If you want proof, demand of these Christian 
 cavaliers here present, most of whom I captured ; demand of 
 those Moslem warriors who aided me in my battles." 
 
 Muza was confounded for a moment, but attempted to vindi 
 cate 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 are 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 gathers all the booty, though all are enumerated in the 
 records of his triumph." The caliph, however, was wroth, and 
 heeded not his words. You have vaunted your own de 
 serts," said 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 covetousness be upon 
 your own 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 Waled died, and was succeeded by 
 his brother Suleiman. The new sovereign cherished deep re 
 sentment against Muza for having presented himself at court 
 contrary to his command, and he listened readily to the calum 
 nies 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 slanders on 
 his head ; charging him with embezzling much of the share of 
 the booty belonging to the sovereign. The new caliph lent a 
 willing ear 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 bitterness. " I have been a 
 faithful servant to the throne from my youth upwards," said 
 he, and now I am 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 me !" 
 
 The caliph was still more exasperated at his repining, and 
 stripped him of his commands; confiscated his effects; fined 
 him two hundred thousand pesants of gold, and ordered that 
 he should be scourged and exposed to the noontide sun, and 
 afterwards thrown into prison.* The populace also reviled 
 
 * Conde, p. 1, c. 17. 
 
118 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 and scoffed at him in hie 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. 
 
 CONDUCT OF ABDALASIS AS EMIR OF SPAIN. 
 
 WHILE these events were happening in Syria, the youthful 
 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 
 opinions 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 ad 
 ministered the public affairs prudently and prosperously. 
 
 Not long after the departure of his father, he received a let 
 ter 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 father. 
 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 false to 
 others will prove true to thee? Beware, O my 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 
 nourishes and bears seed, and produces fruit an 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. 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 119 
 
 ** 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 be 
 trayed 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 ser 
 vice, and had no longer r country to betray ; but they might 
 turn and betray their employers. Abdalasis, therefore, re 
 moved them to a distance from his court, and placed them in 
 situations where they could do no harm, and he warned his 
 commanders from being in any wise influenced by their 
 counsels, or aided by their arms. 
 
 He now confided entirely in 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 viii l 
 rugged sierras, which rise like ramparts along the ocean bor 
 ders of the peninsula ; and they carried the standard of Islam 
 in triumph even to the mountains of Biscay, collecting all 
 manner of precious spoil. 
 
 " It is not enough, O Abdalasis," said Ayub, " that we con 
 quer and rule this- country with the sword ; if we wish our 
 dominion to be secure, we must cultivate the arts of peace, 
 and study to secure the confidence- and promote the welfare 
 of the people we have conquered." Abdalasis relished counsel 
 which accorded so well with his own beneficent nature. He 
 endeavoured, therefore, to allay the ferment and confusion of 
 the conquest ; forbade, under rigorous punishment, all wanton 
 spoil or oppression, and protected the native inhabitants in 
 the enjoyment and cultivation of their lands, and the pursuit 
 
 * Algarbe, or Algarbia, in Arabic signifies the west, as Axarkia is the east, 
 Algufia the north, and Aquibla the south. This will serve to explain some of the 
 geographical names on the peninsula, which are of Arabian origin. 
 
120 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 of all useful occupations. By the advice of Ayub, also, he 
 encouraged great numbers of industrious Moors and Arabs 
 to emigrate from Africa, and gave them houses and lands; 
 thus introducing a peaceful Mahometan population into the 
 conquered provinces. 
 
 The good effect of the counsels of Ayub were soon apparent. 
 Instead of a sudden but transient influx of wealth, made by 
 the ruin of the land, which left the country desolate, a regular 
 and permanent revenue sprang up, 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 Damuscus 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, who 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, 
 who forbids us to make spoil of the enemies of Islam, and to 
 enjoy the land we have wrested from the unbelievers? The 
 partisans of Julian, also, whispered their calumnies. "Be 
 hold," said they, "with what kindness he treats the enemies 
 of your faith ; all the Christians who have borne arms against 
 you, and withstood your entrance into the land, are favoured 
 and protected; but it is enough for a Christian to have be 
 friended the cause of the Moslems to be singled out by 
 Abdalasis 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 moderation of 
 the youthful emir. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 LOVES OF ABDALASIS AND EXILONA. 
 
 ABDALASIS had fixed his seat of government at Seville, as 
 permitting easy and frequent communications with the coast 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 
 
 
 
 of Africa. His palace was of noble architecture, with delight 
 ful gardens extending to the banks of the Guadalquivir. In a 
 part of this palace resided many of the most beautiful Christian 
 females, who were detained as captives, or rather hostages, to 
 insure the tranquillity of the country. 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 em 
 broidered, they sang, they danced, and passed their times 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 intervals of public duty, Abdalasis solaced himself in the 
 repose of this palace, and in the society of these Christian cap 
 tives. 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. Abdalasis 
 found her one day in the garden with her companions; they 
 had adorned their heads with flowers, and were singing the 
 songs of their country, but she sat by herself and wept. The 
 youthful emir was moved by her tears, and accosted her in 
 gentle accents. "O fairest of women!" said he, "why dost 
 thou weep, and why is thy heart troubled?" "Alas!" replied 
 she, "have I not cause to weep, seeing how sad is my condi 
 tion, and how great the height from which I have fallen ? In 
 me you behold the wretched Exilona, but lately the wife of 
 Roderick, and the queen of Spain, now a captive and a slave !" 
 and, having said these words, cast her eyes upon the earth, and 
 her tears began to flow afresh. 
 
 The generous feelings of Abdalasis 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 
 
122 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 t 
 
 society; and he even neglected his divan, and suffered his 
 counsellors to attend in vain, while he lingered in the apart 
 ments and gardens of the palace, listening to the voice of 
 Exilona. 
 
 The discreet Ayub saw the danger into which he was falling. 
 "O Abdalasis," said he, "remember the words of thy father. 
 Beware, my son, said he, of the seductions of love. It ren 
 ders the mighty weak, and makes slaves of princes ! " A blush 
 kindled on the cheek of Abdalasis, and he was silent for a mo 
 ment. "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 misfor 
 tunes. It is the duty of my station 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 propor 
 tion as he was dissatisfied with others or with himself, he sought 
 the society of Exilona, for there was a charm in her conversa 
 tion that banished every care. He daily became more and 
 more enamoured, and Exilona gradually ceased to weep, and 
 began 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 countenance grave and 
 severe. 
 
 "Fortune," said she, "has cast me 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 lack 
 force to defend my honour, I have resolution to wash out all 
 stain upon it with my blood. I trust, however, in thy courtesy 
 as a cavalier to respect me in my reverses, remembering what 
 I have been, and that though the crown has been wrested 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, promising 
 that she should have no rival nor copartner in his heart. What 
 ever scruples the captive queen might originally have felt to a 
 union with one of the conquerors of her lord, and an enemy 
 
 * Faxardo. corona, Gothica, T. 1, p. 492. Joan. Mar. de reb. Hisp. L. 6, c, 27. 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 123 
 
 of her adopted faith, they were easily vanquished, and she be 
 came the bride of Abdalasis. He would fain 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!" said 
 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 interrupted him with 
 impatience. My father, " said he, spake but of the blandish 
 ments 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 Mahomet ; 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 : * but she continued to be known among 
 the Christians by the name of Exilona. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 FATE OF ABDALASIS AND EXILONA DEATH OF MUZA. 
 
 POSSESSION, instead of cooling the passion of Abdalasis, only 
 added to its force ; he became blindly enamoured of his beau 
 tiful bride, and consulted her will in all things ; nay, having 
 lost all relish for the advice of the discreet Ayub, he 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 should be encircled 
 
 t Conde, p. 1, c. 17. 
 
124 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 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 be offended," said she, " if I make 
 an unwelcome request ?" Abdalasis regarded her with a smile. 
 " What canst thou ask of me, Exilona," 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 Eoderick, and said, "Behold, thou art king in 
 authority, be so in thy outward state. There is majesty and 
 glory in a crown; 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 
 persisted in her prayer. " Never," said she, " has there been a 
 king in Spain that did not wear a crown." So Abdalasis suf 
 fered himself to be beguiled by the blandishments of his wife, 
 and to be invested with the crown and sceptre and other signs 
 of royalty.* 
 
 It is affirmed by ancient and discreet chroniclers, that Abda 
 lasis 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 assump 
 tion of the insignia of the ancient Gothic kings was soon ru 
 moured about, and caused the most violent suspicions. The 
 Moslems had already felt jealous of the ascendancy of this 
 beautiful woman, and it was now confidently asserted that 
 Abdalasis, won by her persuasions, had secretly turned Chris 
 tian. 
 
 The enemies of Abdalasis, those whose rapacious spirits had 
 been kept in check by the beneficence of his rule, seized upon 
 this occasion to ruin him. They sent letters to Damascus ac 
 cusing him of apostasy, and of an intention to seize upon the 
 throne in right of his wife, Exilona, 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 regaining ascen 
 dancy in their country. 
 
 These accusations arrived at Damascus just after the acces 
 sion of the sanguinary Suleiman to the throne, and in the 
 height of his persecution of the unfortunate Muza. The caliph 
 
 * Cron. Ren. de Alonzo el Sabio, p. 3. Joan. Mar. de reb. Hisp. lib. 6, c. 27. Conde, 
 p. 1, c. 19. 
 
LEGEND OF T^**, CUBJUOATION OP SPAIN. 125 
 
 waited for no proofs in confirmation; he immediately 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 Abdalasis was sent to Abhilbar 
 ben Obeidah and Zeyd ben Nabegat, both of whom had been 
 cherishc 1 friends of Muza, and had lived in intimate favour 
 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 great and glorious ser 
 vices?" The cavaliers remained for some time plunged in 
 horror and consternation. The order, however, was absolute, 
 and left them no discretion. "Allah is great," said they, u and 
 commands us to obey our sovereign." So they prepared to 
 execute the bloody mandate with the blind fidelity of Moslems. 
 
 It was necessary to proceed with caution. The open and 
 magnanimous character of Abdalasis had won the hearts of a 
 great part of the soldiery, and his magnificence pleased the 
 cavaliers who formed his guard ; it was feared, therefore, that 
 a sanguinary opposition would be made to any attempt upon 
 his person. The rabble, however, had been imbittered against 
 him from his having restrained their depredations, and because 
 they thought him an apostate in his heart, secretly bent upon 
 betraying them to the Christians. While, therefore, the two 
 officers made vigilant dispositions to check any movement on 
 the part of the soldiery, they let loose the blind fury 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 first to execute the orders of the caliph. 
 
 Abdalasis was at this time at a palace in the country not far 
 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 
 
126 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 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. All the be 
 neficent 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 
 inherent in human nature, was awakened, and woe to the vic 
 tims when that eagerness is quickened by religious hate. The 
 illustrious couple, adorned with all the grace of youth and 
 beauty, were hurried to a scaffold in the great square of Se 
 ville, and there beheaded amidst the shouts and execrations of 
 an infatuated multitude. Their bodies were left exposed upon 
 the ground, and would have been devoured by dogs, had they 
 not been gathered at night by some friendly hand, and poorly 
 interred in one of the courts of their late dwelling. 
 
 Thus terminated the loves and lives of Abdalasis and Exilona, 
 in the year of the incarnation seven hundred and fourteen. 
 Their names were held sacred as martyrs to the Christian 
 faith ; but many read in their untimely 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 cas 
 ket, and sent to Syria to the cruel Suleiman. The messenger 
 who bore it overtook the caliph as he was performing a pil 
 grimage to Mecca. Muza was among the courtiers in his train, 
 having been released from prison. On opening the casket and 
 regarding its contents, the eyes of the tyrant sparkled with 
 malignant satisfaction. Calling the unhappy father to his 
 side: "Muza," said he, "dost thou know this head?" The 
 veteran recognized the features of his beloved son, and turned 
 his face away with anguish. "Yes! well do I know it," re 
 plied he; " and may the curse of God 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 victims 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 sorrow 
 ing and broken-hearted. 
 
LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. 127 
 
 Such was the lamentable 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. 
 
128 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN, 
 
 LEGEND OF COUNT JULIAN AND HIS FAMILYc 
 
 IN the preceding legends is darkly shadowed out a true story 
 of the woes of Spain. It is a story full of wholesome admoni 
 tion, 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 disappearing, 
 one by one, from the scene, and going down, conqueror and 
 conquered, to gloomy and unhonoured graves. It remains 
 to close this eventful history by holding up, as a signal warn 
 ing, the fate of the traitor whose perfidious scheme of ven 
 geance brought ruin on his native land. 
 
 Many and various are the accounts given in ancient chroni 
 cles of the fortunes of Count Julian and his family, and many 
 are the traditions on the subject still extant among the popu 
 lace 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 pro 
 vinces ; rambling among the rugged defiles and secluded val 
 leys 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 
 arid 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, either recited 
 with the true ore rotundo and modulated cadences of Spanish 
 elocution, or chaunted 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 particulars, 
 however, of the following wild legend are chiefly gathered 
 
LEO END OF COUNT JULIAN ADD Illti FAMILY. 120 
 
 from the writings of the pseudo Moor, Rasis ; how far 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 every thing 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. But it is not outward success that constitutes pros 
 perity. The tree flourishes with fruit and foliage while blast 
 ed and withering at the heart. Wherever he went, Count 
 Julian read hatred in every eye. The Christians cursed him as 
 the cause of all their woe ; the Moslems despised and distrusted 
 him as a traitor. Men whispered together as he approached, 
 and then turned away in scorn ; and mothers snatched away 
 their children with horror if he offered to caress them. He 
 withered under the execration of his fellow-men, and last, 
 and worst of all, he began to loathe himself. He tried in vain 
 to persuade himself that he had but taken a justifiable ven 
 geance ; he felt that no personal wrong can justify the crime 
 of treason to one s country. 
 
 For a time, he sought in luxurious indulgence to soothe or 
 forget 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 slumber from his pillow. He sent to Ceuta for 
 his wife Frandina, his daughter Florinda, and his youthful son 
 Alarbot ; hoping in the bosom of his family to find that sym 
 pathy 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 
 undertaken this signal vengeance, was sinking a victim to its 
 effects. Wherever she went, she found herself a by-word of 
 shame and reproach. The outrage she had suffered was im 
 puted to her as wantonness, and her calamity was magnified 
 into a crime. The Christians never mentioned her name with 
 out a curse, and the Moslems, the gainers by her misfortune, 
 spake of her only by the appellation 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 conauest and Derdition of her country. The 
 
130 LEGENDS OF THE COXtyUKST OF SPAIN". 
 
 anguish of her mind preyed upon the beauty of her person. 
 Her eye, once soft and tender in its expression, became wild 
 and haggard ; her cheek lost its bloom, and became hollow and 
 pallid, and at times there was desperation 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 upon Spain. Her wretchedness in 
 creased 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. From 
 thence she called to them in piercing accents, expressive of 
 her insupportable anguish and desperate determination. "Let 
 this city," said she, "be henceforth called Malacca, in memo 
 rial of the most wretched of women, who therein put an end 
 to her days." So saying, she threw herself headlong from the 
 tower and was dashed to pieces. The city, adds the ancient 
 chronicler, 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 be 
 longing to the citadel. Count Julian departed for Carthagena, 
 where he remained plunged in horror at this doleful event. 
 
 About this time, the cruel Suleiman, having destroyed the 
 family of Muza, had sent an Arab general, named Alahor, to 
 succeed 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 look back with regret to the easy rule of Abdalasis. 
 He regarded with an eye of distrust the renegado Christians 
 who had aided in the conquest, and who bore arms in the ser 
 vice of the Moslems ; but his deepest suspicions fell upon Count 
 Julian. " He has been a traitor to his own countrymen," said 
 he; " how can we be sure that he will not prove traitor to us?" 
 
 A sudden insurrection of the Christians who had taken re 
 fuge 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 snge named Yuza, who had accompanied him from 
 Africa. This son of science was withered in form, and looked 
 
LEGEND OF COUNT JULIAN AND HIS FAMILY. 131 
 
 as if he had outlived the usual term of m ^rtal life. In the 
 course of his studies and travels in the east, he had collected 
 the knowledge and experience of ages ; being skilled in astro 
 logy, and, it is said, in necromancy, and possessing the mar 
 vellous gift of prophecy or divination. To this expounder of 
 mysteries Alahor 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 
 supernatural intelligences subservient to his wisdom. At an 
 appointed hour the emir sought him in his cell. It was filled 
 with the smoke of perfumes ; squares and circles and various 
 diagrams were described upon the floor, 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 and mystic visions. 
 
 "O emir," said he, "be on your guard! treason is around 
 you and in your path ; your life is in peril. Beware of Count 
 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 him 
 self, 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 construed by the jealous 
 mind of the emir into proofs of guilt. He no longer doubted 
 his being concerned in the recent insurrections, and that he 
 had sent his family away, preparatory to an attempt, by force 
 of arms, to subvert the Moslem 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 fatal battle of the G-uadalete. 
 
 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 moun 
 tains of Arragon. The emir, enraged to be disappointed of his 
 
132 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 prey, embarked at Carthagena and crossed the straits to Ceuta, 
 to make captives of the Countess Frandina and her son. 
 
 The old chronicle from which we take this part of our legend, 
 presents a gloomy picture of the countess in the stern fortress 
 to which she had fled for refuge; a picture heightened by 
 supernatural horrors. These latter, the sagacious reader will 
 admit or reject according to the measure of his faith and 
 judgment; always remembering that in dark and eventful 
 times, like those in question, involving the destinies of nations, 
 the downfall of kingdoms, and the crimes of rulers and mighty 
 men, the hand of fate is sometimes strangely visible, and con 
 founds the wisdom t of the worldly wise, by intimations and 
 portents above the ordinary course of things. With this pro 
 viso, we make no scruple to follow the venerable chronicler in 
 his narration. 
 
 Now so it happened, that the Countess Frandina was seated 
 late at night in her chamber in the citadel of Ceuta, whicl: 
 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 moan 
 ing about the castle walls. Eaising her eyes, she beheld 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 are upon his track. His inno 
 cence 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 cham 
 ber 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, arid had died in fetters in 
 a tower of the mountains. The same messenger brought word 
 that the j&nir 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 
 
LEGEND OF COUNT JULIAN AND HIS FAMILY. 133 
 
 would prove treacherous, and take part with their country 
 men. Summoning her officers, therefore, she informed them 
 of their danger, and commanded them to put those Moors to 
 death. The guards sallied forth to obey her orders. Thirty- 
 five of the Moors were in the great square, unsuspicious of any 
 danger, when they were severally singled out by their execu^ 
 tioners, and, at a concerted signal, killed on the spot. The 
 remaining fifteen took refuge in a tower. They saw the arma^ 
 da of the emir at a distance, and hoped to be able to hold out 
 until its arrival. The soldiers of the countess saw it also, and 
 made extraordinary efforts to destroy these internal enemies 
 before they should be attacked from without. They made 
 repeated attempts to storm the tower, but were as often re 
 pulsed with severe loss. They then undermined it, supporting 
 its foundations by stanchions of wood. To these they set fire 
 and withdrew to a distance, keeping up a constant shower of 
 missiles to prevent the Moors from sallying forth to extinguish 
 the flames. The stanchions were rapidly consumed, and when 
 they gave way the tower fell to the ground. Some of the 
 Moors 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 ves 
 pers. He landed, but found 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 safe from his 
 power, and would effect 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 desperate de 
 fence ; 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, ancl what should I fear from my sister?" 
 
134 LEGENDS OF THE CONOUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 The countess opened the sepulchre. " Listen, my son," said 
 she. u There are fierce and cru^l people who have come hither 
 to murder thee. Stay here in company with thy sister, and 
 be 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, "lam not to be deceived; tell 
 me where you have concealed the boy, or tortures shall wring 
 from you the secret." 
 
 "Emir," replied the countess, "may the greatest torments 
 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 stood by his side re 
 garding the countess from beneath his bushed eyebrows, per 
 ceived trouble in her countenance and equivocation in her 
 words. "Leave this matter to me," whispered he to Alahor. 
 " I will produce the child." 
 
 He ordered strict search to be made by the soldiery, and 
 he obliged the countess to be always present. When they 
 came to the chapel, her cheek turned pale and her lip quivered. 
 "This," said the subtile astrologer, "is the place of conceal 
 ment!" 
 
 The search throughout the chapel, however, was equally 
 vain, and the soldiers were about to depart, when Yuza re 
 marked a slight gleam of joy in the eye of the countess. "We 
 are leaving our prey behind," thought he; "the countess is 
 exulting." 
 
 He now called to mind the words of her asseveration, that 
 her child was with the dead. Turning suddenly to the soldiers 
 he ordered them to search the sepulchres. "If you find him 
 not, " said he, drag forth the bones of that wanton Cava, 
 that they may b burnt, ancl the ashes scattered to the 
 winds," 
 
LEGEND OF COUNT JULIAN AND HIS FAMILY. 135 
 
 The soldiers searched among the tombs and found that of 
 Florinda partly open. Within lay the boy in the sound sleep 
 of childhood, and one of the solders too 1 ?: him gently in his 
 arms to bear him to the emir. 
 
 When the countess beheld that her child was discovered, she 
 rushed into the presence of Alahor, and, forgetting all her 
 pride, threw 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 soldiery without re 
 gard to her struggles and her cries, and confined in a dungeon 
 of the citadal. 
 
 The child was now brought to the emir. He had been 
 awakened by the tumult, but gazed fearlessly on the stern 
 countenances of the soldiers. Had the heart of the emir been 
 capable of pity, it would have been touched by the tender youth 
 and innocent beauty of the child; but his heart was as the 
 nether millstone, and he was bent upon 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 Yuza placed him on the battlements. 
 
 " 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 eyes. The breeze 
 blew his curling locks from about his face, and his cheek 
 glowed at the boundless prospect ; for the tower was reared 
 upon that lofty promontory on which Hercules founded one of 
 his pillars. The surges of the sea were heard far below, beat 
 ing upon the rocks, the sea-gull screamed and wheeled about 
 the foundations of the tower, and the sails of lofty caraccas 
 were as mere specks on the bosom of the deep. 
 
 " Dost thou know yonder land beyond the blue water?" said 
 Yuza. 
 
 "It is Spain," replied the boy; " it is the land of my fa,ther 
 and my mother." 
 
LEGENDS OP 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 aged son of Ishmael, exerting all the strength of 
 his withered limbs, 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. 
 
 Alalior came to the foot of the winding stair. 
 
 " Is the boy safe?" cried he. 
 
 "He is safe," replied Yuza; "come and behold the truth 
 with thine own eyes." 
 
 The emir ascended the tower and looked over the battle 
 ments, and beheld the body of the child, a shapeless mass, on 
 the rocks far below, and the sea-gulls hovering about ; 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 dungeon into the public square. She knew of the death of 
 her child, and that her own death was at hand, 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 commanding beauty in 
 her countenance, and the majesty of her presence 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; be 
 hold one of that traitoi*ous 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." Upon 
 this the emir swore with horrid imprecations that whoever of 
 the captives refused should himself be stoned to death. So the 
 cruel order was executed, and the Countess Frandina perished 
 by the hands of her countrymen. Having thus accomplished 
 his barbarous errand, the emir embarked for Spain, and or 
 dered 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 after, 
 closed the tragic story of his family. How he died remains in 
 volved in doubt. Some assert that the cruel Alahor pursued 
 him to his retreat among the mountains, and, having taken 
 
LEGEND OF COUNT JULIAN AND HIS FAMILY. 137 
 
 him prisoner, beheaded him; others that the Moors confined 
 him in a dungeon, and put an end to his life with lingering 
 torments ; while others affirm that the tower of the castle of 
 Marcuello, near Huesca, in Arragon, in which he took refuge, 
 fell on him and crushed him to pieces. All agree that his lat 
 ter 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 him shelter ; 
 for we are told that the castle is no longer inhabited on ac 
 count of the strange and horrible noises that are heard in it ; 
 and that visions of armed men are seen above it in the air ; 
 which are supposed to be the troubled spirits of the apostate 
 Christians who favoured the cause of the traitor. 
 
 In after-times a stone sepulchre was shown, outside of the 
 chapel of the castle, as the tomb of Count Julian; but the 
 traveller and the pilgrim avoided it, or bestowed upon it a 
 malediction ; and the name of Julian has remained a by- word 
 and a scorn in the land for the warning of all generations. 
 Such ever be the lot of him who betrays his country. 
 
 Here end the legends of the Conquest of Spain. 
 
 Written in the Alhambra, June 10, 1829. 
 
 NOTE TO THE PRECEDING LEGEND. 
 
 EL licenciado Arde vines (Lib. 2, c. 8) dize que dichos 
 Duendos caseros, o los del aire, hazen aparacer exercitos y 
 peleas, como lo que se cuenta por tradicion (y aim algunos per- 
 sonas lo deponen como testigos de vista) de la torre y castello 
 de Marcuello, lugar al pie de las montanas de Aragon (aora in 
 habitable, por las grandes y espantables ruidos, que en el se 
 oyen) donde se retraxo el Conde Don Julian, causa de la per- 
 dicion de Espafia ; sobre el qual castillo, deze se ven en el aire 
 ciertas visiones, como de soldados, que el vulgo dize son los 
 cavalleros y gente que le favorecian. 
 
 Vide "el Ente Dislucidado, " por Fray Antonio de Fuentala> 
 pena Capuchin. Seccion 3, Subseccion 5, Instancia 8, Num. 644. 
 
 As readers unversed in the Spanish language may wish to 
 know the testimony of the worthy and discreet Capuchin friar, 
 Antonio de Fuentalapeila, we subjoin a translation of it: 
 
 " The licentiate Ardevines (Book II., chap. 8) says, that the 
 
138 LEGENDS OF TIIE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. 
 
 said house-fairies, (or familiar spirits,) or those of the air 
 cause the apparitions of armies and battles; such as those 
 which are related in tradition, (and some persons even depose 
 to the truth of them as eye-witnesses,) of the town and castle 
 of Marcuello, a fortress at the foot of the mountains of Ar- 
 ragon, (at present uninhabitable, on account of the sreat and 
 frightful noises heard in it,) the place of retreat of Count Don 
 Julian, the cause of the perdition of Spain. It is said that cer 
 tain apparitions of soldiers are seen in the air, which the vul 
 gar^ say are those of the courtiers and the people who aided 
 
SPANISH 
 
 VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY, 
 
 BT 
 
 WASHINGTON IRVING. 
 
 CHICAGO, NEW YORK, AND SAN FRANCISCO: 
 
 BELFORD, CLARKE & CO., 
 
 PUBLISHERS, 
 
nTTEODUOTIOK 
 
 THE first discovery of the western hemisphere has already 
 been related by the author in his History of Columbus. It is 
 proposed by him, in the present work, to narrate the enterprises 
 of certain of the companions and disciples of the admiral, who, 
 enkindled by his zeal, and instructed by his example, sallied 
 forth separately in the vast region of adventure to which he 
 had led the way. Many of them sought merely to skirt the 
 continent which he had partially visited, and to secure the first 
 fruits of the pearl fisheries of Paria and Cubaga, or to explore 
 the coast of Veragua, which he had represented as the Aurea 
 Chersonesus of the Ancients. Others aspired to accomplish a 
 grand discovery which he had meditated toward the close of 
 his career. In the course of his expeditions along the coast of 
 Terra Firma, Columbus had repeatedly received information 
 of the existence of a vast sea to the south. He supposed it to 
 be the great Indian Ocean, the region of the Oriental spice 
 islands, and that it must communicate by a strait with the Ca 
 ribbean Sea. His last and most disastrous voyage was made 
 for the express purpose of discovering that imaginary strait, 
 and making his way into this Southern Ocean. The illustrious 
 navigator, however, was doomed to die, as it were, upon the 
 threshold of his discoveries. It was reserved for one of his fol 
 lowers, Vasco Nunez de Balboa, to obtain the first view of the 
 promised ocean, from the lofty mountains of Darien, some 
 years after the eyes of the venerable admiral had been closed 
 in death. 
 
 The expeditions herein narrated, therefore, may be considered 
 as springing immediately out of the voyages of Columbus, and 
 fulfilling some of his grand designs. They may be compared 
 to the attempts of adventurous knights errant to achieve the 
 enterprise left unfinished by some illustrious predecessor. 
 Neither is this comparison entirely fanciful. Qii the contrary, 
 
6 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 it is a curious fact, well worthy of notice, that the spirit of 
 chivalry entered largely into the early expeditions of the Span 
 ish discoverers, giving them, a character wholly distinct from 
 similar enterprises undertaken by other nations. It will not, 
 perhaps, be considered far sought, if we trace the cause of this 
 peculiarity to the domestic history of the Spaniards during the 
 middle ages. 
 
 Eight centuries of incessant warfare with the Moorish usurp 
 ers of the peninsula produced a deep and lasting effect upon the 
 Spanish character and manners. The war being ever close at 
 home, mingled itself with the domestic habits and concerns of 
 the Spaniard. He was born a soldier. The wild and predatory 
 nature of the war, also, made him a kind of chivalrous marauder. 
 His horse and weapon were always ready for the field. His 
 delight was in roving incursions and extravagant exploits, and 
 no gain was so glorious in his eyes as the cavalgada of spoils 
 and captives, driven home in triumph from a plundered prov 
 ince. Religion, which has ever held great empire in the Span 
 ish mind, lent its aid to sanctify these roving and ravaging pro 
 pensities, and the Castilian cavalier, as he sacked the towns 
 and laid waste the fields of his Moslem neighbour, piously be 
 lieved he was doing God service. 
 
 The conquest of Granada put an end to the peninsula wars 
 between Christian and infidel; the spirit of Spanish chivalry 
 was thus suddenly deprived of its wonted sphere of action ; but 
 it had been too long fostered and excited to be as suddenly ap 
 peased. The youth of the nation, bred up to daring adventure 
 and heroic achievement, could not brook the tranquil and regu 
 lar pursuits of common life, but panted for some new field of 
 romantic enterprise. 
 
 It was at this juncture that the grand project of Columbus 
 was carried into effect. His treaty with the sovereigns was, in 
 a manner, signed with the same pen that had subscribed the 
 capitulation of the Moorish capital, and his first expedition may 
 almost be said to have departed from beneath the walls of Gra 
 nada. Many of the youthful cavaliers who had fleshed their 
 swords in that memorable war, crowded the ships of the dis 
 coverers, thinking a new career of arms was to be opened to them. 
 a kind of crusade into splendid and unknown regions of infi 
 dels. The very weapons and armour that had been used against 
 the Moors were drawn from the arsenals to equip the discover 
 ers, and some of the most noted of the early commanders in the 
 new world will be found to have made their first essay in anns 
 
INTRODUCTION. 7 
 
 under the banner of Ferdinand and Isabella, in their romantic 
 campaigns among the mountains of Andalusia. 
 
 To these circumstances may, in a great measure, be ascribed 
 that swelling chivalrous spirit which will be found continually 
 mingling, or rather warring, with the technical habits of the 
 seamen, and the sordid schemes of the mercenary adventurer ; 
 in these early Spanish discoveries, chivalry had left the land 
 and launched upon the deep. The Spanish cavalier had em 
 barked in the Caraval of the discoverer ; he carried among the 
 trackless wildernesses of the new world, the same contempt of 
 danger and fortitude under suffering, the same restless roaming 
 spirit, the same passion for inroad and ravage, and vain-glori 
 ous exploit, and the same fervent, and often bigoted, zeal for 
 the propagation of his faith that had distinguished him during 
 his warfare with the Moors. Instances in point will be found 
 in the extravagant career of the daring Ojeda, particularly in 
 his adventures along the coast of Terra Firma and the wild 
 shores of Cuba. In the sad story of the unfortunate Nicuesa ;" 
 graced as it is with occasional touches of high-bred courtesy ; 
 in the singular cruise of that brave, but credulous, old cavalier, 
 Juan Ponce de Leon, who fell upon the flowery coast of Florida, 
 in his search after an imaginary fountain of youth ; and above 
 all in the chequered fortunes of Vasco Nunez de Balboa, whose 
 discovery of the Pacific ocean, forms one of the most beautiful 
 and striking incidents in the history of the new world, and 
 whose fate might furnish a theme of wonderful interest for a 
 poem or a drama. 
 
 The extraordinary actions and adventures of these men, 
 while they rival the exploits recorded in chivalric tale, have 
 the additional interest of verity. They leave us in admiration 
 of the bold arid heroic qualities inherent in the Spanish char 
 acter, which led that nation to so high a pitch of power and 
 glory, and which are still discernible in the great mass of that 
 gallant people, by those who have an opportunity of judging 
 of them rightly. 
 
 Before concluding these prefatory remarks, the author 
 would acknowledge how much he has been indebted to the 
 third volume of the invaluable Historical collection of Don 
 Martin Fernandez de Navarrete, wherein he has exhibited his 
 usual industry, accuracy, and critical acumen. He has like 
 wise profited greatly by the second volume of Oviedo s general 
 history, which only exists in manuscript, and a copy of which 
 lie found in the Columbian library of the Cathedral of Seville, 
 
8 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCO VKRY. 
 
 He has had some assistance also from the documents of the 
 law-case between Don Diego Columbus and the Crown, which 
 exist in the archives of the Indies ; and for an inspection of 
 which he is much indebted to the permission of the Spanish 
 Government and the kind attentions of Don Josef de La Hi- 
 guera Lara, the keeper of the archives. These, with the his 
 torical works of Las Casas, Herrera, G-omera, and Peter Martyr, 
 have been his authorities for the facts contained in the follow 
 ing work ; though he has not thought proper to refer to them 
 continually at the bottom of his page. 
 
 While his work was going through the press he received a 
 volume of Spanish Biography, written with great elegance and 
 accuracy, by Don Manuel Josef Quintana, and containing a 
 life of Vasco Nunez de Balboa. He was gratified to find that 
 his arrangement of facts was generally corroborated by this 
 work; though he was enabled to correct his dates in several 
 instances, and to make a few other emendations from the vol 
 ume of Seilor Quintana, whose position in Spain gave him the 
 means of attaining superior xxactness en these points. 
 
VOYAGES AND DISCOVERIES 
 
 OF THE 
 
 COMPANIONS OF COLUMBUS. 
 
 To declare my opinion herein, whatsoever hath heretofore been discovered by 
 the famous travayles of Saturnus and Hercules, with such other whom the An- 
 tiquitie for their heroical acts honoured as gods, seemeth but little and obscure, if 
 it be compared to the victorious labors of the Spanyards. P. Martyr, Decad. III. c. 
 4. Lock s translation 
 
 ALONZO DE OJEDA.* 
 
 HIS FIRST VOYAGE, IN WHICH HE WAS ACCOMPANIED BY 
 AMERIGO VESPUCCI.* 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF OJEDA OF JUAN DE LA COSA OF AMERIGO 
 VESPUCCI PREPARATIONS FOR THE VOYAGE. (1499.) 
 
 THOSE who have read the History of Columbus will, doubt 
 less, remember the character and exploits of Alonzo de Ojeda ; 
 as some of the readers of the following pages, however, may 
 not have perused that work, and as it is proposed at present to 
 trace the subsequent fortunes of this youthful adventurer, a 
 brief sketch of him may not be deemed superfluous. 
 
 Alonzo de Ojeda was a native of Cuenca, in New Castile, 
 and of a respectable family. He was brought up as a page or 
 esquire, in the service of Don Luis de Cerda, Duke of Medina 
 Celi, one of the most powerful nobles of Spain ; the same who 
 for some time patronised Columbus during his application to 
 the Spanish court.! 
 
 * Ojeda is pronounced in Spanish Oheda, with a strong aspiration of the h. 
 
 t Vespucci, Vespuchy. 
 
 $ Varoiies Ilustres, por F. Pizarro y Orellana, p. 41. Las Casas, Hist. Ind. 1 i. c. 82, 
 
10 SPANISH VOYAGES OP DISCOVERY. 
 
 In those warlike days, when the peninsula was distracted by 
 contests between the Christian kingdoms, by feuds between the 
 nobles and the crown, and by the incessant and marauding 
 warfare with the Moors, the household of a Spanish nobleman 
 was a complete school of arms, where the youth of the country 
 were sent to be trained up in all kinds of hardy exercises, and 
 to be led to battle under an illustrious banner. Such was es 
 pecially the case with the service of the Duke of Medina Celi, 
 who possessed princely domains, whose household was a petty 
 court, who led legions of armod retainers to the field, and who 
 appeared in splendid state and with an immense retinue, more 
 as an ally of Ferdinand and Isabella, than as a subject. He 
 engaged in many of the roughest expeditions of the mem 
 orable war of Granada, always insisting on leading his own 
 troops in person, when the service was of peculiar difficulty 
 and danger. Alonzo de Ojeda was formed to signalize himself 
 in such a school. Though small of stature, he was well made, 
 and of wonderful force and activity, with a towering spirit 
 and a daring eye that seemed to make up for deficiency of 
 height. He was a bold and graceful horseman, an excellent 
 foot soldier, dexterous with every weapon, and noted for his 
 extraordinary skill and adroitness in all feats of strength and 
 agility. 
 
 He must have been quite young when he followed the duke 
 of Medina Celi, as page, to the Moorish wars ; for he was but 
 about twenty-one years of age when he accompanied Colum 
 bus in his second voyage; he had already, however, distin 
 guished himself by his enterprising spirit and headlong valour ; 
 and his exploits during that voyage contributed to enhance his 
 reputation. He returned to Spain with Columbus, but did not 
 accompany him in his third voyage, in the spring of 1498. He 
 was probably impatient of subordination, and ambitious of a 
 separate employment or command, which the influence of his 
 connexions gave him a great chance of obtaining. He had a 
 cousin-german of his own name, the reverend Padre Alonzo de 
 Ojeda, a Dominican friar, who was one of the first inquisitors 
 of Spam, and a great favourite with the Catholic sovereigns.* 
 This father inquisitor was, moreover, an intimate friend of the 
 bishop Don Juan Rodriguez Fonseca, who had the chief man 
 agement of the affairs of the Indies, under which general name 
 were comprehended all the countries discovered in the new 
 
 * Pizarro. Varones Ilustres. 
 
ALONZO DE OJEDA. 11 
 
 world. Through the good offices of his cousin inquisitor, there 
 fore, Ojeda had been introduced to the notice of the bishop, 
 who took him into his especial favour and patronage. Men 
 tion has already been made, in the History of Columbus, of a 
 present made by the bishop to Ojeda of a small Flemish paint 
 ing of the Holy Virgin. This the young adventurer carried 
 about with him as a protecting relic, invoking it at all times of 
 peril, whether by sea or land ; and to the special care of the 
 Virgin he attributed the remarkable circumstance that he had 
 never been wounded in any of the innumerable brawls and 
 battles into which he was continually betrayed by his rash and 
 fiery temperament. 
 
 While Ojeda was lingering about the court, letters were 
 received from Columbus, giving an account of the events of 
 his third voyage, especially of his discovery of the coast of 
 Paria, which he described as abounding with drugs and spices, 
 with gold and silver, and precious stones, and, above all, with 
 oriental pearls, and which he supposed to be the borders of 
 that vast and unknown region of the East, wherein, according 
 to certain learned theorists, was situated the terrestrial para 
 dise. Specimens of the pearls, procured in considerable quan 
 tities from the natives, accompanied his epistle, together with 
 charts descriptive of his route. These tidings caused a great 
 sensation among the maritime adventurers of Spain; but no 
 one was more excited by them than Alonzo de Ojeda, who, 
 from his intimacy with the bishop, had full access to the 
 charts and correspondence of Columbus. He immediately 
 conceived the project of making a voyage in the route thus 
 marked out by the admiral, and of seizing upon the first fruits 
 of discovery which he had left ungathered. His scheme met 
 with ready encouragement from Fonseca, who, as has hereto 
 fore been shown, was an implacable enemy to Columbus, and 
 willing to promote any measure that might injure or molest 1 
 him. The bishop accordingly granted a commission to Ojeda, 
 authorizing him to fit out an armament and proceed on a 
 voyage of discovery, with the proviso merely that he should 
 not visit any territories appertaining to Portugal, or any of 
 the lands discovered in the name of Spain previous to the year 
 1495. The latter part of this provision appears to have been 
 craftily worded by the bishop, so as to leave the coast of Paria 
 and its pearl fisheries open to Ojeda, they having been recently 
 discovered by Columbus in 1498. 
 
 The commission wag signed by Fonseca alone, in virtue of 
 
12 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 general powers vested in him for such purposes, but the signa 
 ture of the sovereigns did not appear on the instrument, and 
 it is doubtful whether their sanction was sought on the occa 
 sion. He knew that Columbus had recently remonstrated 
 against a royal mandate issued in 1495, permitting voyages of 
 discovery, by private adventurers, and that the sovereigns 
 had in consequence revoked their mandate wherever it might 
 be deemed prejudicial to the stipulated privileges of the 
 admiral.* It is probable, therefore, that the bishop avoided 
 raising any question that might impede the enterprise ; being 
 confident of the ultimate approbation of Ferdinand, who 
 would be well pleased to have his dominions in the new world 
 extended by the discoveries of private adventurers, under 
 taken at their own expense. It was stipulated in this, as well 
 as in subsequent licenses for private expeditions, that a certain 
 proportion of the profits, generally fourth or fifth, should be 
 reserved for the crown. 
 
 Having thus obtained permission, to make the voyage, the 
 next consideration with Ojeda \w..; to find the means. He was 
 a young adventurer, a mere soldier of fortune, and destitute of 
 wealth; but he had a high reputation for courage and enter 
 prise, and with these, it was thought, would soon make his 
 way to the richest parts of the newly discovered lands, and 
 have the wealth of the Indies at his disposal. He had no diffi 
 culty, therefore, in finding monied associates among the -rich 
 merchants of Seville, who, in that arp of discovery, were ever 
 ready to stake their property upon the schemes of roving navi 
 gators. With such assistance he soon equipped a squadron of 
 four vessels at Port St. Mary, opposite Cadiz. Among the 
 seamer who engaged with him were several who had just 
 returned from accompanying Columbus in his voyage to this 
 very coast of Paria. The principal associate of Ojeda, and one 
 on whom he placed great reliance, was Juan de la Cosa ; who 
 accompanied him as first mate, or, as it was termed, chief pilot. 
 This was a bold Biscayan, who may be regarded as a disciple 
 of Columbus, with whom he had sailed in his second voyage, 
 when he coasted Cuba and Jamaica, and he had since accom 
 panied Rodrigo de Bastides, in an expedition along the coast of 
 Terra Firma. The hardy veteran was looked up to by his con 
 temporaries as an oracle of the seas, and was pronounced one 
 of the most able mariners of the day; he may be excused, 
 
 , t. \{. pocwment, cxiii, 
 
ALONZO DE OJEDA, 13 
 
 therefore, if in his harmless vanity he considered himself on a 
 par even with Columbus.* 
 
 Another conspicuous associate of Ojeda, in this voyage, was 
 Amerigo Vespucci, a Florentine merchant, induced by broken 
 fortunes and a rambling disposition to seek adventures in the 
 new world. Whether he had any pecuniary interest in the 
 expedition, and in what capacity he sailed, does not appear. 
 His importance has entirely arisen from subsequent circum 
 stances ; from his having written and published a narrative of 
 his voyages, and from his name having eventually been given 
 to the new world. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 DEPARTURE FROM SPAIN ARRIVAL ON THE COAST OF PARIA 
 CUSTOMS OF THE NATIONS. 
 
 OJEDA sailed from Port St. Mary on the 20th of May, 1499, 
 and, having touched for supplies at the Canaries, took a depar 
 ture from Gomara, pursuing the route of Columbus, in his 
 third voyage, being guided by the chart he had sent home, at 
 well as by the mariners who had accompanied him on that 
 occasion. At the end of twenty-four days he reached the 
 continent of the new world, about two hundred leagues far 
 ther south than the part discovered by Columbus, being, as it 
 is supposed, the coast of Surinam, f 
 
 From hence he ran along the coast of the Gulf of Paria, 
 passing the mouths of many rivers, but especially those of the 
 Esquivo and the Oronoko. These, to the astonishment of 
 the Spaniards, unaccustomed as yet to the mighty rivers of 
 the new world, poured forth such a prodigious volume of 
 water, as to freshen the sea for a great extent. They beheld 
 none of the natives until they arrived at the Island of Trini 
 dad, on which island they met with traces of the recent visit 
 of Columbus. 
 
 Vespucci, in his letters, gives a long description of the people 
 of this island and of the coast of Paria, who were of the Carib 
 race, tall, well-made and vigorous, and expert with the bow, 
 the lance, and the buckler. His description, in general, resem- 
 
 * Navarette. Collec. Viag., t. iii., p. 4. tNavarrete, t. iii., p. 211. 
 
14 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 bles those which have frequently been given of the Aboriginals 
 of the new world; there are two or three particulars, however,, 
 worthy of citation. 
 
 They appeared, he said, to believe in no religious creed, to 
 have 110 place of worship, and to make no prayers or sac 
 rifices; but, he adds, from the voluptuousness of their lives, 
 they might be considered Epicureans.* Their habitations 
 were built in the shape of bells ; of the trunks of trees, thatched 
 with palm leaves, and were proof against wind and weather. 
 They appeared to be in common, and some of them were of 
 such magnitude as to contain six hundred persons: in one 
 place there were eight principal houses capable of sheltering 
 nearly ten thousand inhabitants. Every seven or eight years 
 the natives were obliged to change their residence, from the 
 maladies engendered by the heat of the climate in their 
 crowded habitations. 
 
 Their riches consisted in beads and ornaments made from 
 the bones of fishes; in small white and green stones strung 
 like rosaries, with which they adorned their persons, and in 
 the beautiful plumes of various colours for which the tropical 
 birds are noted. 
 
 The Spaniards smiled at their simplicity in attaching an 
 extraordinary value to such worthless trifles ; while the sav 
 ages, in all probability, were equally surprised at beholding 
 the strangers so eager after gold, and pearls and precious 
 stones, which to themselves were objects of indifference. 
 
 Their manner of treating the dead was similar to that ob 
 served among the natives of some of the islands. Having 
 deposited the corpse in a cavern or sepulchre, they placed a jar 
 of water and a few eatables at its head, and then abandoned 
 it without moan or lamentation. In some parts of the coast, 
 when a person was considered near his end, his nearest rela 
 tives bore him to the woods and laid him in a hammock sus 
 pended to the trees. They then danced round him until 
 evening, when, having left within his reach sufficient meat 
 and drink to sustain him for four days, they repaired to their 
 habitations. If he recovered and returned home, he was re 
 ceived with much ceremony and rejoicing; if he died of his 
 malady or of famine, nothing more was thought of him. 
 
 Their mode of treating a fever is also worthy of mention. 
 In the height of the malady they plunged the patient in a bath 
 
 * Viages de Vespucci. Navarrete, t. iii., p. 211. 
 
ALOAZO DE OJEDA. 15 
 
 of the coldest water, after which they obliged him to make 
 many evolutions round a great fire, until he was in a violent 
 heat, when they put him to bed, that he might sleep : a treat 
 ment, adds Amerigo Vespucci, by which we saw many cured. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 COASTING OF TERRA FIRMA MILITARY EXPEDITION OF OJEDA. 
 
 AFTER touching at various parts of Trinidad and the Gulf 
 of Paria, Ojeda passed through the strait of the Boca del 
 Drago, or Dragon s Mouth, which Columbus had found so 
 formidable, and then steered his course along the coast of 
 Terra Firma, landing occasionally until he arrived at Curiana, 
 or the Gulf of Pearls. From hence he stood to the opposite 
 island of Margarita, previously discovered by Columbus, and 
 since renowned for its pearl fishery. This, as well as several 
 adjacent islands, he visited and explored; after which he re 
 turned to the main land, and touched at Cumana and Mara- 
 capana, where he found the rivers infested with alligators re 
 sembling the crocodiles of the Nile. 
 
 Finding a convenient harbour at Maracapana he unloaded 
 and careened his vessels there, and built a small brigantine. 
 The natives came to him in great numbers, bringing abundance 
 of venison, fish, and cassava bread, and aiding the seamen in 
 their labours. Their hospitality was not certainly disinter 
 ested, for they sought to gain the protection of the Spaniards, 
 whom they reverenced as superhuman beings. When they 
 thought they had sufficiently secured their favour, they repre 
 sented to Ojeda that their coast was subject to invasion from 
 a distant island, the inhabitants of which were cannibals, and 
 carried their people into captivity, to be devoured at their 
 unnatural banquets. They besought Ojeda, therefore, to 
 avenge them upon these ferocious enemies. 
 
 The request was gratifying to the fighting propensities of 
 Alonzo de Ojeda, and to his love of adventure, and was readily 
 granted. Taking seven of the natives on board of his vessels, 
 therefore, as guides, he set sail in quest of the cannibals. 
 After sailing for seven days he came to a chain of islands, 
 
16 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 some of which were peopled, others uninhabited, and which 
 are supposed to have been the Carribee islands. One of these 
 was pointed out by his guides as the habitation of their foes. 
 On running near the shore he beheld it thronged with savage 
 warriors, decorated with coronets of gaudy plumes, their 
 bodies painted with a variety of colours. They were armed 
 with bows and arrows, with darts, lances, and bucklers 5 and 
 seemed prepared to defend their island from invasion. 
 
 This show of war was calculated to rouse the martial spirit 
 of Ojeda. He brought his ships to anchor, ordered out his 
 boats, and provided each with a paterero or small cannon. 
 Beside the oarsmen, each boat contained a number of soldiers, 
 who were told to crouch out of sight in the bottom. The 
 boats then pulled in steadily for the shore. As they ap 
 proached, the Indians let fly a cloud of arrows, but without 
 much effect. Seeing the boats continue to advance, the sav 
 ages threw themselves into the sea, and brandished thoir lances 
 to prevent their landing. Upon this, the soldiers sprang up in 
 the boats and discharged the patereroes. At the sound and 
 smoke of these unknown weapons the savages abandoned the 
 water in affright, while Ojeda and his men leaped on shore 
 and pursued them. The Carib warriors rallied on the banks, 
 and fought for a long time with that courage peculiar to their 
 race, but were at length driven to the woods, at the edge of the 
 sword, leaving many killed and wounded on the field of battle. 
 
 On the following day the savages were seen on the shore in 
 still greater numbers, armed and painted, and decorated with 
 war plumes, and sounding defiance with their conchs and 
 drums. Ojeda again landed fifty-seven men, whom he sep 
 arated into four companies, and ordered them to charge the 
 enemy from different directions. The Caribs fought for a 
 time hand to hand, displaying great dexterity in covering 
 themselves with their bucklers, but were at length entirely 
 routed and driven, with great slaughter, to the forests. The 
 Spaniards had but one man killed and twenty-one wounded in 
 these combats, such superior advantage did their armour 
 give them over the naked savages. Having plundered and set 
 fire to the houses, they returned triumphantly to their ships, 
 with a number of Carib captives, and made sail for the main 
 land. Ojeda bestowed a part of the spoil upon the seven 
 Indians who had accompanied him as guides, and sent them 
 exulting to their homes, to relate to their countrymen the 
 signal vengeance that had been wreaked upon their foes, He 
 
ALONZO DE OJEDA. 17 
 
 then anchored in a bay, where he remained for twenty days, 
 until his men had recovered from their wounds.* 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 DISCOVERY OF THE GULF OF VENEZUELA TRANSACTIONS THERE 
 OJEDA EXPLORES THE GULF PENETRATES TO MARACAIBO. 
 
 His crew being refreshed, and the wounded sufficiently re 
 covered, Ojeda made sail, and touched at the island of Curazao, 
 which, according to the accounts of Vespucci, was inhabited by 
 a race of giants, * every woman appearing a Penthesilea, and 
 every man an Antseus."! As Vespucciwas a scholar, and as he 
 supposed himself exploring the regions of the extreme East, the 
 ancient realm of fable, it is probable his imagination deceived 
 him, and construed the formidable accounts given by the In 
 dian "5 of their cannibal neighbours of the islands, into some 
 thing according with his recollections of classic fable. Certain 
 it is, that the reports of subsequent voyagers proved the in 
 habitants of the island to be of the ordinary size. 
 
 Proceeding along the coast, he arrived at a vast deep gulf, 
 resembling a tranquil lake ; entering which, he beheld on the 
 eastern side a village, the construction of which struck him 
 with surprise. It consisted of twenty large houses, shaped like 
 bells, and built on piles driven into the bottom of the lake, 
 which, in this part, was limpid and of but little depth. Each 
 house was provided with a drawbridge, and with canoes, by 
 which the communication was carried on. From these resem 
 blances to the Italian city, Ojeda gave to the bay the name of 
 the Gulf of Venice : and it is called at the present day Vene 
 zuela, or Little Venice : the Indian name was Coquibacoa. 
 
 When the inhabitants beheld the ships standing into the 
 bay, looking like wonderful and unknown apparitions from the 
 deep, they fled with terror to their houses, and raised the 
 drawbridges. The Spaniards remained for a time gazing with 
 
 * There is some discrepance in the early accounts of this battle, as to the time 
 and place of its occurrence. The author has collated the narratives of Vespucci, 
 Las Casas, Herrera, and Peter Martyr, and the evidence given in the law-suit of 
 Diego Columbus, and has endeavoured as much as possible to reconcile them, 
 
 t Vespucci. Letter to Lorenzo de Pier Francisco de Medicis. 
 
18 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 admiration at this amphibious village, when a squadron of 
 canoes entered the harbour from the sea. On beholding the 
 ships they paused in mute amazement, and on the Spaniards 
 attempting to approach them, paddled swiftly to shore, and 
 plunged into the forest. They soon returned with sixteen 
 young girls, whom they conveyed in their canoes to the ships, 
 distributing four on board of each, either as peace-offerings or 
 as tokens of amity and confidence. The best of understanding 
 now seemed to be established ; and the inhabitants of the vil 
 lage came swarming about the ships in their canoes, and others 
 swimming in great numbers from the shores. 
 
 The friendship of the savages, however, was all delusive. u On 
 a sudden, several old women at the doors of the houses uttered 
 loud shrieks, tearing their hair in fury. It appeared to be a 
 signal for hostility. The sixteen nymphs plunged into the sea 
 and made for shore; the Indians in the canoes caught up 
 their bows and discharged a flight of arrows, and even those 
 who were swimming brandished darts and lances, which they 
 had hitherto concealed beneath the water. 
 
 Ojeda was for a moment surprised at seeing war thus start 
 ing up on every side, and the very sea bristling with weapons. 
 Manning his boats, he immediately charged among the thick 
 est of the enemy, shattered and sunk several of their canoes, 
 killed twenty Indians and wounded many more, and spread 
 such a panic among them, that most of the survivors flung 
 themselves into the sea and swam to shore. Three of them 
 were taken prisoners, and two of the fugitive girls, and were 
 conveyed on board of the ships, where the men were put in 
 irons. One of them, however, and the two girls, succeeded in 
 dexterously escaping the same night. 
 
 Ojeda had but five men wounded in the affray, all of whom 
 recovered. He visited the houses, but found them abandoned 
 and destitute of booty ; notwithstanding the unprovoked hos 
 tility of the inhabitants, he spared the buildings, that he might 
 not cause useless irritation along the coast. 
 
 Continuing to explore this gulf, Ojeda penetrated to a port 
 or harbour, to which he gave the name of St. Bartholomew, 
 but which is supposed to be the same at present known by the 
 original Indian name of Maracaibo. Here, in compliance with 
 the entreaties of the natives, he sent a detachment of twenty- 
 seven Spaniards on a visit to the interior. For nine days they 
 were conducted from town to town, and feasted and almost 
 idolized by the Indians, who regarded them as angelic beings, 
 
ALONZO DE OJEDA. 19 
 
 performing their national dances and games, and chaunting 
 their traditional ballads for their entertainment. 
 
 The natives of this part were distinguished for the symme 
 try of their forms ; the females in particular appeared to the 
 Spaniards to surpass all others that they had yet beheld in the 
 new world for grace and beauty ; neither did the men evince, 
 in the least degree, that jealousy which prevailed in other 
 parts of the coast ; but, on the contrary, permitted the most 
 frank and intimate intercourse with their wives and daughters. 
 
 By the time the Spaniards set out on their return to the ship, 
 the whole country was aroused, pouring forth its population, 
 male and female, to do them honour. Some bore them in lit 
 ters or hammocks, that they might not be fatigued with the 
 journey, and happy was the Indian who had the honour of 
 bearing a Spaniard on his shoulders across a river. Others 
 loaded themselves with the presents that had been bestowed on 
 their guests, consisting of rich plumes, weapons of various 
 kinds, and tropical birds and animals. In this way they re 
 turned in triumphant procession to the ships, the woods and 
 shores resounding with their songs and shouts. 
 
 Many of the Indians crowded into the boats that took 
 the detachment to the ships; others put off in canoes, or 
 swam from shore, so that in a little while the vessels were 
 thronged with upwards of a thousand wondering natives. 
 While gazing and marvelling at the strange objects around 
 them, Ojeda ordered the cannon to be discharged, at the sound 
 of which, says Vespucci, the Indians " plunged into the water, 
 like so many frogs from a bank." Perceiving, however, that 
 it was done in harmless mirth, they returned on board, and 
 passed the rest of the day in great festivity. The Spaniards 
 brought away with them several of the beautiful and hospitable 
 females from this place, one of whom, named by them Isabel, 
 was much prized by Ojeda, and accompanied him in a subse 
 quent voyage.* 
 
 * Navarette, t. iii., p. 8. Idem, pp 107, 108. 
 
 It is worthy of particular mention that Ojeda, in his report of his voyage to the 
 Sovereigns, informed them of his having met with English voyagers in the vicinity 
 of Coquihacoa, and that the Spanish government attached such importance to his 
 information as to take measures to prevent any intrusion into those parts by the 
 English. It is singular that no record should exist of this early and extensive ex 
 pedition of English navigators. If it was undertaken in the service of the Crown, 
 some document might be found concerning it among the archives of the reign of 
 Henry VII. The English had already discovered the continent of North America. 
 This had been done in 1497, by John Cabot, a Venetian, accompanied by his son 
 
20 SPANISH VOYAGES 0* DISCOVERY. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PROSECUTION OF THE VOYAGE RETURN TO SPAIN. 
 
 LEAVING the friendly port of Coquibacoa, Ojeda continued 
 along the western shores of the gulf of Venezuela, and standing 
 out to sea, and doubling Cape Maracaibo, he pursued his 
 coasting voyage from port to port, and promontory to promon 
 tory, of this unknown continent, until he reached that long 
 stretching headland called Cape de la Vela. There, the state 
 of his vessels, and perhaps the disappointment of his hopes at 
 not meeting with abundant sources of immediate wealth, 
 induced him to abandon all further voyaging along the coast, 
 and, changing his course, he stood across the Caribbean Sea for 
 Hispaniola. The tenor of his commission forbade his visiting 
 that island; but Ojeda was not a man to stand upon trifles 
 when his interest or inclination prompted the contrary. He 
 trusted to excuse the infraction of his orders by the alleged 
 necessity of touching at the island to caulk and refit his ves 
 sels, and to procure provisions. His true object, however, is 
 supposed to have been to cut dyewood, which abounds in the 
 western part of Hispaniola. 
 
 He accordingly, anchored at Yaquimo in September, and 
 landed with a large party of his men. Columbus at that time 
 held command of the island, and, hearing of this unlicensed 
 intrusion, despatched Francesco Roldan, the quondam rebel, 
 to call Ojeda to account. The contest of stratagem and man 
 agement that took place between these two adroit and daring 
 adventurers has already been detailed in the History of Colum 
 bus. Roldan was eventually successful, and Ojeda, being 
 obliged to leave Hispaniola, resumed his rambling voyage, vis 
 iting various islands, from whence he carried off numbers of 
 the natives. He at length arrived at Cadiz, in June, 1500, 
 with his ships crowded with captives, whom he sold as slaves. 
 
 Sebastian, who was born in Bristol. They sailed under a license of Henry VII., who 
 was to have a fifth of the profits of the voyage. On the 24th June they dis 
 covered Newfoundland, and afterwards coasted the continent quite to Florida, 
 bringing back to England a valuable cargo and several of the natives. This was the 
 firxt discovery of the mainland of America. The success of this expedition may 
 have prompted the one which Ojeda encountered in the neighbourhood of Coqu* 
 bacoa. 
 
ALONZO DE OJEDA. 21 
 
 So meagre, however, was the result of this expedition, that we 
 are told, when all the expenses were deducted, but five hun 
 dred ducats remained to be divided between fifty-five adven 
 turers. What made this result the more mortifying was, that 
 a petty armament which had sailed sometime after that of 
 Ojeda, had returned two months before him, rich with the 
 spoils of the New World. A brief account of this latter expe 
 dition is necessary to connect this series of minor discoveries. 
 
22 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 PEDRO ALONZO NINO* AND CHRISTOVAL 
 GUERRA.-CL499.) 
 
 THE permission granted by Bishop Fonseca to Alonzo de 
 Ojeda, to undertake a private expedition to the New World, 
 roused the emulation of others of the followers of Columbus. 
 Among these was Pedro Alonzo Nino, a hardj seaman, native 
 of Moguer in the vicinity of Palos, who had sailed with Colum 
 bus, as a pilot, in his first voyage, and also in his cruisings 
 along the coasts of Cuba and Paria.f He soon obtained from 
 the bishop a similar license to that given to Ojeda, and, like 
 the latter, sought for some monied confederate among the 
 rich merchants of Seville. One of these, named Luis Guerra, 
 offered to fit out a caravel for the expedition ; but on condition 
 that his brother, Christoval Guerra, should have the command. 
 The poverty of Nino compelled him to assent to the stipula 
 tions of the man of wealth, and he sailed as subaltern in his 
 own enterprise; but his nautical skill and knowledge soon 
 gained him the ascendancy, he became virtually the captain, 
 and ultimately enjoyed the whole credit of the voyage. 
 
 The bark of these two adventurers was but of fifty tons bur 
 then, and the crew thirty -three souls all told. With this slen 
 der armament they undertook to traverse unknown and dan 
 gerous seas, and to explore the barbarous shores of that vast 
 continent recently discovered by Columbus; such was the 
 daring spirit of the Spanish voyagers of those days. 
 
 It was about the beginning of June, 1499, and but a few days 
 after the departure of Ojeda, that they put to sea. They 
 sailed from the little port of Palos, the original cradle of Amer^ 
 ican discovery, whose brave and skilful mariners long contin 
 ued foremost in all enterprises to the New World. Being 
 guided by the chart of Columbus, they followed his route, and 
 
 * Pronounced Ninyo. The N in Spanish is always pronounced as if followed by 
 the letter y. 
 t Testimony of Bastides in the law-suit of Diego Columbus. 
 
PEDRO AL03ZO AINO AND CHR1STOVAL GUERRA. 23 
 
 reached the southern continent, a little beyond Paria, about 
 fifteen days after the same coast had been visited by Ojeda. 
 
 They then proceeded to the gulf of Paria, where they landed 
 to cut dye-wood, and were amicably entertained by the 
 natives. Shortly after, sallying from the gulf by the Boca del 
 Drago, they encountered eighteen canoes of Caribs, the pirate- 
 rovers of these seas and the terror of the bordering lands. 
 This savage armada, instead of being daunted as usual by the 
 sight of a European ship with swelling sails, resembling some 
 winged monster of the deep, considered it only as an object of 
 plunder or hostility, and assailed it with showers of arrows. 
 The sudden burst of artillery, however, from the sides of the 
 caravel and the havoc made among the Caribs by this seeming 
 thunder, struck them with dismay and they fled in all direc 
 tions. The Spaniards succeeded in capturing one of the canoes, 
 with one of the warriors who had manned it. In the bottom 
 of the canoe lay an Indian prisoner bound hand and foot. On 
 being liberated, he informed the Spaniards by signs that these 
 Caribs had been on a marauding expedition along the neigh 
 bouring coasts, shutting themselves up at night in a stockade 
 which they carried with them, and issuing forth by day to 
 plunder the villages and to make captives. He had been 
 one of seven prisoners. His companions had been devoured 
 before his eyes at the cannibal banquets of these savages, and 
 he had been awaiting the same miserable fate. Honest Nino 
 and his confederates were so indignant at this recital, that, 
 receiving it as established fact, they performed what they con 
 sidered an act of equitable justice, by abandoning the Carib to 
 the discretion of his late captive. The latter fell upon the 
 defenceless warrior with fist and foot and cudgel ; nor did his 
 rage subside even after the breath had been mauled out of his 
 victim, but, tearing the grim head from the body, he placed it 
 on a pole as a trophy of his vengeance. 
 
 Niilo and his fellow-adventurers now steered for the island 
 of Margarita, where they obtained a considerable quantity of 
 pearls by barter. They afterwards skirted the opposite coast 
 of Cumana, trading cautiously and shrewdly from port to port, 
 sometimes remaining on board of their little bark, and obliging 
 the savages to come off to them, when the latter appeared too 
 numerous, at other times venturing on shore, and even into 
 the interior. They were invariably treated with amity by the 
 natives, who were perfectly naked, excepting that they were 
 adorned with necklaces and bracelets of pearls. These they 
 
24 SPANISH VOYAUES Utf DISCOVERY. 
 
 sometimes gave freely to the Spaniards, at other times the;? 
 exchanged them for glass beads and other trinkets, and 
 smiled at the folly of the strangers in making such silly bar 
 gains.* 
 
 The Spaniards were struck with the grandeur and density 
 of the forests along this coast, for in these regions of heat 
 and moisture, vegetation appears in its utmost magnificence. 
 They heard also the cries and roarings of wild and unknown 
 animals in the woodlands, which, however, appeared not to be 
 very dangerous, as the Indians went about the forest armed 
 solely with bows and arrows. From meeting with deer and 
 rabbits, they were convinced that that was a part of Terra 
 Firma, not having found any animals of the kind on the 
 islands, t 
 
 Nino and Guerra were so well pleased with the hospitality 
 of the natives of Cumana, and with the profitable traffic for 
 pearls, by which they obtained many of great size and beauty, 
 that they remained upwards of three months on the coast. 
 
 They then proceeded westward to a country called Cauchieto, 
 trading as usual for pearls, and for the inferior kind of gold 
 called guanin. At length they arrived at a place where there 
 was a kind of fortress protecting a number of houses and 
 gardens situated on a river, the whole forming to the eyes of 
 the Spaniards one of the most delicious abodes imaginable. 
 They were about to land and enjoy the pleasures of this 
 fancied paradise, when they beheld upwards of a thousand 
 Indians, armed with bows and arrows and war-clubs, prepar 
 ing to give them a warm reception; having been probably 
 incensed by the recent visit of Ojeda. As Nino and Guerra 
 had not the fighting propensities of Ojeda, and were in quest 
 of profit rather than renown, having, moreover, in all proba 
 bility, the fear of the rich merchant of Seville before their 
 eyes, they prudently abstained from landing, and, abandoning 
 this hostile coast, returned forthwith to Cumana to resume 
 their trade for pearls. They soon amassed a great number, 
 many of which were equal in size and beauty to the most cele 
 brated of the East, though they had been injured hi boring 
 from a want of proper implements. 
 
 Satisfied with their success they now set sail for Spain, and 
 piloted their little bark safely to Bayonne in Gallicia, where 
 they anchored about the middle of April, 1500, nearly two 
 
 * Las Casas. Hist. Ind., lib. i. c. 171. t Navarrete, t. iii. p. 14. 
 
PEDRO ALONZO NlffO AND CHRISTOVAL GUERRA. 25 
 
 months before the arrival of Ojeda and his associates, La Cosa 
 and Vespucci.* 
 
 The most successful voyagers to the New World were doomed 
 to trouble from their very success. The ample amount of 
 pearls paid to the treasury, as the royal portion of the profits 
 of this expedition, drew suspicion instead of favour upon the 
 two adventurers. They were accused of having concealed a 
 great part of the pearls collected by them, thus defrauding 
 their companions and the crown. Pedro Alonzo Nino was 
 actually thrown into prison on this accusation, but, nothing 
 being proved against hkn, was eventually set free, and enjoyed 
 the enviable reputation of having performed the richest 
 voyage that had yet been made to the New World, t 
 
 * Peter Martyr. Other historians give a different date for their arrival. Herrera, 
 says Feb. 6. 
 t Navarrete. Collect, t. iii. p. 11. Herrera, d. i. 1. iv. c. v. 
 
26 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 VICENTE YANEZ PINZON.-(1499). 
 
 AMONG the maritime adventurers of renown who were 
 roused to action by the licenses granted for private expeditions 
 of discovery, we find conspicuous the name of Vicente Yaiiez 
 Pinzon, of Palos, one of the three brave brothers who aided 
 Columbus in his first voyage and risked life and fortune with 
 him in his doubtful and perilous enterprise. 
 
 Of Martin Alonzo Pinzon, the eldest and most important of 
 these three brothers, particular mention has been made in the 
 History of Columbus, and of the unfortunate error in conduct 
 which severed him from the admiral, brought on him the dis 
 pleasure of the sovereigns, and probably contributed to his 
 premature and melancholy death. 
 
 Whatever cloud of disgrace may have overshadowed his 
 family, it was but temporary. The death of Martin Alonzo, 
 as usual, atoned for his faults, and his good deeds lived after 
 him. The merits and services of himself and his brothers 
 were acknowledged, and the survivors of the family were 
 restored to royal confidence. A feeling of jealous hostility 
 prevented them from taking a part in the subsequent voyages 
 of Columbus ; but the moment the door was thrown open for 
 individual enterprise, they pressed forward for permission to 
 engage in it at their own risk and expense and it was readily 
 granted. In fact, their supposed hostility to Columbus was 
 one of the surest reeommendations they could have to the 
 favour of the Bishop Fonseca, by whom, the license was issued 
 for their expedition. 
 
 Vicente Yanez Pinzon was the leader of this new enterprise, 
 and he was accompanied by two nephews named Arias Perez 
 and Diego Fernandez, sons of his late brother, Martin Alonzo 
 Pinzon. Several of his sailors had sailed with Columbus in 
 liis recent voyage to Paria, as had also his three principal 
 pilots, Juan Quintero, Juan de Umbria, and Juan de Jerez. 
 ILu.ufj these minor voyages seemed all to emanate from the 
 
V1CKXTE YANEZ P1XZON. 27 
 
 great expeditions of Columbus, and to aim at realizing the 
 ideas and speculations contained in the papers transmitted by 
 him to Spain. 
 
 The armament consisted of four caravels, and was fitted out 
 at the port of Palos. The funds of Vicente Yanez were com 
 pletely exhausted before he had fitted out his little squadron ; 
 he was obliged, therefore, to purchase on credit the sea-stores 
 and articles of traffic necessary for the enterprise. The mer 
 chants of Palos seemed to have known how to profit by the 
 careless nature of sailors and the sanguine spirit of dis 
 coverers. In their bargains they charged honest Pinzon 
 eighty and a hundred per cent, above the market value of 
 their merchandise, and in the hurry and urgency of the 
 moment he was obliged to submit to the imposition.* 
 
 The squadron put to sea in the beginning of December, 1499, 
 and, after passing the Canary and Cape de Verde Islands, stood 
 to the south-west. Having sailed about seven hundred leagues, 
 they crossed the equator and lost sight of the north star. 
 They had scarcely passed the equinoctial line when they 
 encountered a terrible tempest, which had well-nigh swallowed 
 up their slender barks. The storm passed away and the 
 firmament was again serene ; but the mariners remained tossing 
 about in confusion, dismayed by the turbulence of the waves 
 and the strange aspect of the heavens. They looked in vain to 
 the south for some polar star by which to shape their course, 
 and fancied that some swelling prominence of the globe con 
 cealed it from their view. They knew nothing as yet of the 
 firmament of that hemisphere, nor of that beautiful constella 
 tion, the southern cross, but expected to find a guiding star at 
 the opposite pole, similar to the cynosure of the north. 
 
 Pinzon, however, who was of an intrepid spirit, pursued his 
 course resolutely to the west, and after sailing about two hun 
 dred and forty leagues, and being in the eighth degree of 
 southern latitude, he beheld land afar off on the 28th of 
 January, to which he gave the name of Santa Maria de la 
 Consolation, from the sight of it having consoled him in the 
 midst of doubts and perplexities. It is now called Cape St. 
 Augustine, and forms the most prominent part of the immense 
 empire of Brazil. 
 
 The sea was turbid and discoloured as in rivers, and on 
 
 * Navarrete, vol. iii. See Doc. No. 7, where Vincente Yanez Pinzon petitions for 
 redress, 
 
28 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 sounding they had sixteen fathoms of water. Pinzon landed, 
 accompanied by a notary and witnesses, and took formal pos 
 session of the territory for the Castilian crown ; no one appear 
 ed to dispute his pretensions, but he observed the print of 
 footsteps on the beach which seemed of gigantic size. 
 
 At night there were fires lighted upon a neighbouring part 
 of the coast, which induced Pinzon on the following morning 
 to send forty men well armed to the spot. A band of Indians, 
 of about equal number, sallied forth to encounter them, armed 
 with bows and arrows, and seemingly of extraordinary stature. 
 A still greater number were seen in the distance hastening to 
 the support of their companions. The Indians arrayed them 
 selves for combat, and the two parties remained for a short 
 time eyeing each other with mutual curiosity and distrust. 
 The Spaniards now displayed looking-glasses, beads, and other 
 trinkets, and jingled strings of hawks bells, in general so capti 
 vating to an Indian ear ; but the haughty savages treated all 
 their overtures with contempt, regarding these offerings care 
 lessly for a short time, and then stalking off with stoic gravity. 
 They were ferocious of feature, and apparently warlike in dis 
 position, and are supposed to have been a wandering race of 
 unusual size, who roamed about in the night, and were of the 
 most fierce, untractable nature. By nightfall there was not an 
 Indian to be seen in the neighbourhood. 
 
 Discouraged by the inhospitable character of the coast, Pin 
 zon made sail and stood to the north-west, until he came to the 
 mouth of a river too shallow to receive his ships. Here he 
 sent his boats on shore with a number of men well armed. 
 They landed on the river banks, and beheld a multitude of 
 naked Indians on a neighbouring hill. A single Spaniard armed 
 simply with sword and buckler was sent to invite them to 
 friendly intercourse. He approached them with signs of amity, 
 and threw to them a hawk s bell. They replied to him with 
 similar signs, and threw to him a small gilded wand. The 
 soldier stooped to pick it up, when suddenly a troop of sav 
 ages rushed down to seize him ; he threw himself immediately 
 upon the defensive, with sword and target, and though but a 
 small man, and far from robust, he handled his weapons with 
 such dexterity and fierceness, that he kept the savages at bay, 
 making a clear circle round him, and wounding several who 
 attempted to break it. His unlooked-for prowess surprised 
 and confounded his assailants, and gave time for his comrades 
 to come to his assistance. The Indians then made a general 
 
VICEXTE YAffEZ P1KZON. 29 
 
 assault, with such a galling discharge of darts and arrows that 
 almost immediately eight or ten Spaniards were slain, and 
 many more wounded. The latter were compelled to retreat to 
 their boats disputing every inch of ground. The Indians pur 
 sued them even into the water, surrounding the boats and 
 seizing hold of the oars. The Spaniards made a desperate 
 defence, thrusting many through with their lances, and cutting 
 down and ripping up others with their swords ; but such was 
 the ferocity of the survivors, that they persisted in their at 
 tack until they overpowered the crew of one of the boats, and 
 bore it off in triumph. With this they retired from the com 
 bat, and the Spaniards returned, defeated and disheartened, to 
 their ships, having met with the roughest reception that the 
 Europeans had yet experienced in the New World. 
 
 Pinzon now stood forty leagues to the north-west, until he 
 arrived in the neighbourhood of the equinoctial line. Here 
 he found the water of the sea so fresh that he was enabled to 
 replenish his casks with it. Astonished at so singular a phe 
 nomenon he stood in for the land, and arrived among a number 
 of fresh and verdant islands, inhabited by a gentle and hospi 
 table race of people, gaily painted, who came off to the ships 
 with the most frank and fearless confidence. Pinzon soon 
 found that these islands lay in the mouth of an immense river, 
 more than thirty leagues in breadth, the water of which entered 
 upwards of forty leagues into the- sea before losing its sweet 
 ness. It was, in fact, the renowned Maranon, since known as 
 the Orellana and the Amazon. While lying in the mouth of 
 this river there was a sudden swelling of the stream, which, 
 being opposed by the current of the sea, and straitened by the 
 narrow channels of the islands, rose more than five fathoms, 
 with mountain waves, and a tremendous noise, threatening 
 the destruction of the ships. Pinzon extricated his little 
 squadron with great difficulty from this perilous situation, 
 and finding there was but little gold or any thing else of value 
 to be found among the simple natives, he requited their hospi 
 tality, in the mode too common among the early discoverers, 
 by carrying off thirty-six of them captive. 
 
 Having regained the sight of the polar star, Pinzon pursued 
 his course along the coast, passing the mouths of the Oronoko, 
 and entering the Gulf of Paria, where he landed and cut Bra 
 zil-wood. Sallying forth by the Boca del Drago, he reached 
 the island of Hispaniola about the 23d of June, from whence 
 he sailed for the Bahamas. Here, in the month of July, while 
 
30 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 at anchor, there came such a tremendous hurricane that two 
 of the caravels were swallowed up with all their crews in the 
 sight of their terrified companions ; a third parted her cables 
 and was driven out to sea, while the fourth was so furiously 
 beaten by the tempest that the crew threw themselves into 
 the boats and made for shore. Here they found a few naked 
 Indians, who offered them no molestation; but, fearing that 
 they might spread the tidings of a handful of shipwrecked 
 Spaniards being upon the coast, and thus bring the savages of 
 the neighbouring islands upon them, a council of war was held 
 whether it would not be a wise precaution to put these Indians 
 to death. Fortunately for the latter, the vessel which had 
 been driven from her anchors returned and put an end to the 
 alarm, and to the council of war. The other caravel also rode 
 out the storm uninjured, and the sea subsiding, the Spaniards 
 returned on board, and made the best of their way to the 
 Island of Hispaniola. Having repaired the damages sustained 
 in the gale, they again made sail for Spain, and came to anchor 
 in the river before Palos about the end of September. 
 
 Thus ended one of the most chequered and disastrous voy 
 ages that had yet been made to the New World. Yailez Pinzon 
 had lost two of his ships, and many of his men; what made 
 the loss of the latter more grievous was that they had been en 
 listed from among his neighbours, his friends, and relatives. 
 In fact, the expeditions to the New World must have realized 
 the terrors and apprehensions of the people of Palos by filling 
 that little community with widows and orphans. When the 
 rich merchants, who had sold goods to Pinzon, at a hundred 
 per cent, advance, beheld him return in this sorry condition, 
 with two shattered barks and a handful of poor tattered, 
 weather-beaten seamen, they began to tremble for their 
 money. No sooner, therefore, had he and his nephews de 
 parted to Granada, to give an account of their discoveries to 
 the sovereigns, than the merchants seized upon their caravels 
 and cargoes, and began to sell them to repay themselves. Hon 
 est Pinzon immediately addressed a petition to the govern 
 ment, stating the imposition that had been practised upon 
 him, and the danger he was in of imprisonment and utter ruin, 
 should his creditors be allowed to sacrifice his goods at a pub 
 lic sale. He petitioned that they might be compelled to return 
 the property thus seized, and that he might be enabled to sell 
 three hundred and fifty quintals of Brazil-wood, which he had 
 brought back with him, and which would be sufficient to 
 
VICENTE YAX EZ PINZON. 31 
 
 satisfy the demands of his creditors. The sovereigns granted 
 his prayer. They issued an order to the civil authorities of 
 Palos to interfere in the matter, with all possible promptness 
 and brevity, allowing no vexatious delay, and administering 
 justice so impartially that neither of the parties should have 
 cause to complain. 
 
 Pinzon escaped from the fangs of his creditors, but, of 
 course, must have suffered in purse from the expenses of the 
 law ; which, in Spain, is apt to bury even a successful client 
 under an overwhelming mountain of documents and writings. 
 We infer this in respect to Pinzon from a royal order issued in 
 the following year allowing him to export a quantity of grain, 
 in consideration of the heavy losses he had sustained in his 
 voyage of discovery. He did but share the usual lot of the 
 Spanish discoverers, whose golden anticipations too frequently 
 ended in penury; but he is distinguished from among the 
 crowd of them by being the first European who crossed the 
 Equinoctial line, on the western ocean, and by discovering 
 the great kingdom of Brazil.* 
 
 * On the 5th of September, 1501, a royal permission was given to Vicente Yanez 
 Pinzon to colonize and govern the lands he had discovered, beginning a little north 
 of the river Amazon, and extending to Cape St. Augustine. The object of the gov 
 ernment in this permission was to establish an outpost and a resolute commander 
 on this southern frontier, that should check any intrusions the Portugese might 
 make in consequence of the accidental discovery of a part of the coast of Brazil by 
 Pedro Alvarez Cabral. in 1500. The subsequent arrangement of a partition line be 
 tween the two countries prevented the necessity of this precaution, and it does not 
 appear that Vicente Yanez Pinzon made any second voyage to those parts. 
 
 In 150(3 he undertook an expedition in company with Juan Diaz de Solis, a native 
 of Lebrija, the object of which was to endeavour to find the strait or passage sup 
 posed by Columbus to lead from the Atlantic to a southern ocean. It was neces 
 sarily without success, as was also another voyage made by them, for the same 
 purpose, in 1508. As no such passage exists, no blame could attach to those able 
 navigators for being foiled in the object of their search. 
 
 In consequence of the distinguished merits and services of the Pinzon family they 
 were raised, by the emperor Charles V., to the dignity of a Hidalguia, or nobility, 
 without any express title, and a coat of arms was granted them, on which were 
 emblazoned three caravels, with a hand at the stern pointing to an island covered 
 with savages. This coat of arms is still maintained by the family, who have added 
 to it the motto granted to Columbus, merely substituting the nam of Pinzon for 
 that of the Admiral, 
 
 A Castile y a Leon, 
 Nuevo Mundo dio Pinzon. 
 
32 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 DIEGO DE LEPE AND RODRIGO DE BASTIDES. 
 
 (1500.) 
 
 NOTWITHSTANDING the hardships and disasters that had heset 
 the voyages to the New World, and the penury in which their 
 golden anticipations had too frequently terminated, adventur 
 ers continued to press forward, excited by fresh reports of 
 newly-discovered regions, each of which, in its turn was repre 
 sented as the real land of promise. Scarcely had Vicente 
 Yaiiez Pinzon departed on the voyage recently narrated, when 
 his townsman, Diego de Lepe, likewise set sail with two 
 vessels from the busy little port of Palos on a like expedition. 
 No particulars of importance are known of this voyage, 
 excepting that Lepe doubled Cape St. Augustine, and beheld 
 the southern continent stretching far to the southwest. On re 
 turning to Spain he drew a chart of the coast for the bishop 
 Fonseca, and enjoyed the reputation, for upwards of ten years 
 afterwards, of having extended his discoveries further south 
 than any other voyager. 
 
 Another contemporary adventurer to the New World was 
 Eodrigo de Bastides, a wealthy notary of Triana, the suburb of 
 Seville inhabited by the maritime part of its population. Be 
 ing sanctioned by the sovereigns, to whom he engaged to 
 yield a fourth of his profits, he fitted out two caravels in Octo 
 ber, 1500, to go in quest of gold and pearls. 
 
 Prudently distrusting his own judgment in nautical matters, 
 this adventurous notary associated with him the veteran pilot 
 Juan de la Cosa, the same hardy Biscayan who had sailed 
 with Columbus and Ojeda. A general outline of their voyage 
 has already been given in the life of Columbus ; it extended the 
 discoveries of the coast of Terra Firma from Cape de la Vela, 
 where Ojeda had left oif, quite to the port of Nombre de Dios. 
 
 Bastides distinguished himself from the mass of discoverers 
 by his kind treatment of the natives, and Juan de la Cosa by 
 his .sound discretion and his able seamanship. Their voyage 
 
DIEGO DE LEVK AJD RODRIGO DE BASTIDES. 33 
 
 had been extremely successful, and they had collected, by 
 barter, a great amount of gold and pearls, when their prosper 
 ous career was checked by an unlooked-for evil. Their vessels, 
 to their surprise, became leaky in every part, and they discov 
 ered, to their dismay, that the bottoms were pierced in innum 
 erable places by the broma, or worm which abounds in the 
 waters of the torrid zone, but of which they, as yet, had 
 scarcely any knowledge. It was with great difficulty they 
 could keep afloat until they reached a small islet on the coast 
 of Hispaniola. Here they repaired their ships as well as they 
 were able, and again put to sea to return to Cadiz. A succes 
 sion of gales drove them back to port ; the ravages of the 
 worms continued ; the leaks broke out afresh ; they landed the 
 most portable and precious part of their wealthy cargoes, and 
 the vessels foundered with the remainder. Bastides lost, 
 moreover, the arms and ammunition saved from the wreck, 
 being obliged to destroy them lest they should fall into the 
 hands of the Indians. 
 
 Distributing his men. into three bands, two of them headed 
 by La Cosa and himself, they set off for San Domingo by three 
 several routes, as the country was not able to furnish provis 
 ions for so large a body. Each band was provided with a 
 coffer stored with trinkets and other articles of Indian traffic, 
 with which to buy provisions on the road. 
 
 Francisco de Bobadilla, the wrong-headed oppressor and 
 superseder of Columbus, was at that time governor of San Do 
 mingo. The report reached him that a crew of adventurers had 
 landed on the island, and were marching through the country 
 in three bands, each provided with a coffer of gold, and carry 
 ing on illicit trade with the natives. The moment Bastides 
 made his appearance, therefore, he was seized and thrown into 
 prison, and an investigation commenced. In his defence he 
 maintained that his only traffic with the natives was for the 
 purpose of procuring provisions for his followers, or guides for 
 bis journey. It was determined, however, to send him to 
 Spain for trial, with the written testimony and the other docu 
 ments of his examination. 
 
 He was accordingly conveyed in the same fleet in which Bo- 
 babilla embarked for Spain, and which experienced such an 
 awful shipwreck in the sight of Columbus. The ship Rodrigo 
 Bastides was one of the few that outlived the tempest: it 
 arrived safe at Cadiz in September, 1502. Bastides was ulti 
 mately acquitted of the charges advanced against him. So 
 
34 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 lucrative had been his voyage, that, notwithstanding the losses 
 sustained by the foundering of his vessels, he was enabled 
 to pay a large sum to the crown as a fourth of his profits, 
 and to retain a great amount for himself. In reward of his 
 services and discoveries the sovereigns granted him an annual 
 revenue for Life, to arise from the proceeds of the province of 
 Uraba, which he had discovered. An equal pension was like 
 wise assigned to the hardy Juan de la Cosa, to result from the 
 same territory, of which he was appointed Alguazil Mayor.* 
 Such was the economical generosity of King Ferdinand, who 
 rewarded the past toils of his adventurous discoverers out 
 of the expected produce of their future labours. 
 
 * Navarrete. Collec. t. iii. 
 
SECOND VOYAGE OF ALONZO DE OJEDA. 35 
 
 SECOND VOYAGE OF ALONZO DE OJEDA 
 
 (1502.) 
 
 THE first voyage of Alonzo de Ojeda to the coast of Paria, 
 and its meagre termination in June, 1500, has been related. 
 He gained nothing in wealth by that expedition, but he added 
 to his celebrity as a bold and skilful adventurer. His youthful 
 fire, his sanguine and swelling spirit, and the wonderful stories 
 that were told of his activity and prowess, made him extremely 
 popular, so that his patron, the bishop Fonseca, found it an 
 easy matter to secure for him the royal favour. In considera 
 tion of his past services and of others expected from him, a 
 grant was made to him of six leagues of land on the southern 
 part of Hispaniola, and the government of the province of 
 Coquibacoa which he had discovered. He was, furthermore, 
 authorized to fit out any number of ships, not exceeding ten, 
 at his own expense, and to prosecute the discovery of the 
 coast of Terra Firma. He was not to touch or traffic on the 
 pearl coast of Paria ; extending as far as a bay in the vicinity 
 of the island of Margarita. Beyond this he had a right to 
 trade in all kinds of merchandise, whether of pearls, jewels, 
 metals, or precious stones ; paying one-fifth of the profits to 
 the crown, and abstaining from making slaves of the Indians 
 without a special license from the sovereigns. He was to col 
 onize Coquibacoa, and, as a recompense, was to enjoy one-half 
 of the proceeds of his territory, provided the half did not 
 exceed 300,000 maravedies: all beyond that amount was to go 
 to the crown. 
 
 A principal reason, however, for granting this government 
 and those privileges to Ojeda, was that, in his previous voyage, 
 he had met with English adventurers on a voyage of discovery 
 in the neighbourhood of Coquibacoa, at which the jealousy of 
 the sovereigns had taken the alarm. They were anxious, 
 therefore, to establish a resolute and fighting commander like 
 Ojeda upon this outpost, and they instructed him to set up the 
 
36 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCO VERf. 
 
 arms of Castile and Leon in every place he visited, as a signal 
 of discovery and possession, and to put a stop to the intrusions 
 of the English.* 
 
 With this commission in his pocket, and the government of 
 an Indian territory in the perspective, Ojeda soon found asso 
 ciates to aid him in fitting out an armament. These were 
 Juan de Vergara, a servant of a rich canon of the cathedral of 
 Seville, and Garcia de Campos, commonly called Ocampo. 
 They made a contract of partnership to last for two years, 
 according to which the expenses and profits of the expedition, 
 and of the government of Coquibacoa, were to be shared 
 equally between them. The purses of the confederates were 
 not ample enough to afford ten ships, but they fitted out four. 
 1st, The Santa Maria de la Antigua, commanded by Garcia dd 
 Campo; 2d, The Santa Maria de la Granada, commanded by 
 Juan de Vergara ; 3d, The Caravel Magdalena, commanded by 
 Pedro de Ojeda, nephew to Alonzo; and 4th, The Caravel 
 Santa Ana, commanded by Hernando de Guevara. The 
 whole was under the command of Alonzo de Ojeda. The 
 expedition set sail in 1502, touched at the Canaries, according 
 to custom, to take in provisions, and then proceeded westward 
 for the shores of the New World. 
 
 After traversing the Gulf of Paria, and before reaching the 
 Island of Margarita, the Caravel Santa Ana, commanded by 
 Hernando de Guevara, was separated from them, and for sev 
 eral days the ships were mutually seeking each other, in these 
 silent and trackless seas. After they were all reunited they 
 found their provisions growing scanty ; they landed therefore 
 at a part of the coast called Cumana by the natives, but to 
 which, from its beauty and fertility, Ojeda gave the name of 
 Valfermoso. While foraging here for their immediate sup 
 plies, the idea occurred to Ojeda that he should want furniture 
 and utensils of all kinds for his proposed colony, and that it 
 would be better to pillage them from a country where he was 
 a mere transient visitor, than to r/rest them from his neigh 
 bours in the territory where he was to set up his government. 
 His companions were struck with the policy, if not the justice, 
 of this idea, and they all set to work to carry it into execution. 
 Dispersing themselves, therefore, in ambush in various direc 
 tions, they at a concerted signal rushed forth from their con 
 cealment, and set upon the natives. Ojeda had issued orders 
 
 * Navarrete, t. iii., document x. 
 
8ECOSD VOYAGE OF ALONZO DE OJEDA. 37 
 
 to do as little injury and damage as possible, and on no ac 
 count to destroy the habitations of the Indians. His followers, 
 however, in their great zeal, transcended his orders. Seven or 
 eight Indians were killed and many wounded in the skirmish 
 which took place, and a number of their cabins were wrapped 
 in flames. A great quantity of hammocks, of cotton, and of 
 utensils of various kinds, fell into the hands of the conquerors ; 
 they also captured several female Indians, some of whom were 
 ransomed with the kind of gold called guanin; some were 
 retained by Vergara for himself and his friend Ocampo ; others 
 were distributed among the crews ; the rest, probably the old 
 and ugly, were set at liberty. As to Ojeda, he reserved noth 
 ing for himself of the spoil excepting a single hammock. 
 
 The ransom paid by the poor Indians for some of their effects 
 and some of their women, yielded the Spaniards a trifling 
 quantity of gold, but they found the place destitute of pro 
 visions, and Ojeda was obliged to despatch Vergara in a cara 
 vel to the island of Jamaica to forage for supplies, with 
 instructions to rejoin him at Maracaibo or Cape de la Vela. 
 
 Ojeda at length arrived at Coquibacoa, at the port destined 
 for his seat of government. He found the country, however, 
 so poor and sterile, that he proceeded along the coast to a bay 
 which he named Santa Cruz, but which is supposed to be the 
 same at present called Bahia Honda, where he found a Span 
 iard who had been left in the province of Citarma by Bastides 
 in his late voyage about thirteen months before, and had re 
 mained ever since among the Indians, so that he had acquired 
 their language. 
 
 Ojeda determined to form his settlement at this place ; but 
 the natives seemed disposed to defend their territory, for, the 
 moment a party landed to procure water, they were assailed 
 by a galling shower of arrows, and driven back to the ships. 
 Upon this Ojeda landed with all his force, and struck such 
 terror into the Indians, that they came forward with signs of 
 amity, and brought a considerable quantity of gold as a peace- 
 offering, which was graciously accepted. 
 
 Ojeda, with the concurrence of his associates, now set to 
 work to establish a settlement, cutting down trees, and com 
 mencing a fortress. They had scarce begun, when they were 
 attacked by a neighbouring cacique, but Ojeda sallied forth 
 upon him with such intrepidity and effect as not merely to de 
 feat, but to drive him from the neighbourhood. He then pro 
 ceeded quietly to finish his fortress, which was defended by 
 
38 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 lombards, and contained the magazine of provisions and the 
 treasure amassed in the expedition. The provisions were 
 dealt out twice a day, under the inspection of proper officers ; 
 the treasure gained by barter, by ransom, or by plunder, was 
 deposited in a strong box secured by two locks, one key being 
 kept by the royal supervisor, the other by Ocampo. 
 
 In the mean time provisions became scarce. The Indians 
 never appeared in the neighbourhood of the fortress, except to 
 harass it with repeated though ineffectual assaults. Vergara 
 did not appear with the expected supplies from Jamaica, and a 
 caravel was despatched in search of him. The people, worn 
 out with labour and privations of various kinds, and dis 
 gusted with the situation of a settlement, which was in a poor 
 and unhealthy country, grew discontented and factious. They 
 began to fear that they should lose the means of departing, as 
 their vessels were in danger of being destroyed by the broma 
 or worms. Ojeda led them forth repeatedly upon foraging 
 parties about the adjacent country, and collected some pro 
 visions and booty in the Indian villages. The provisions he 
 deposited in the magazine, part of the spoils he divided among 
 his followers, and the gold he locked up in the strong box, the 
 keys of which he took possession of, to the great displeasure of 
 the supervisor and his associate Ocampo. The murmurs of the 
 people grew loud as their sufferings increased. They insinu 
 ated that Ojeda had no authority over this part of the coast, 
 having passed tho boundaries of his government, and formed 
 his settlement in the country discovered by Bastides. By the 
 time Vergara arrived from Jamaica, the factions of this petty 
 colony had risen to an alarming height. Ocampo had a per 
 sonal enmity to the governor arising probably from some feud 
 about the strong box ; being a particular friend of Vergara, he 
 held a private conference with him, and laid a plan to entrap 
 the doughty Ojeda. In pursuance of this the latter was in 
 vited on board of the caravel of Vergara to see the provisions 
 he had brought from Jamaica, but no sooner was he on board 
 than they charged him with having transgressed the limits of 
 his government, with having provoked the hostility of the 
 Indians, and needlessly sacrificed the lives of his followers, 
 and above all, with having taking possession of the strong box, 
 in contempt of the authority of the royal supervisor, and with 
 the intention of appropriating to himself all the gains of the 
 enterprise ; they informed him, therefore, of their intention to 
 convey him a prisoner to Hispaniola, to answer to tho Gov- 
 
SECOND VOYAGE OF ALONZO DE OJEDA. 39 
 
 ernor for his offences. Ojeda finding himself thus entrapped, 
 proposed to Vergara and Ocampo that they should return to 
 Spain with such of the crews as chose to accompany them, 
 leaving him with the remainder to prosecute his enterprise. 
 The two recreant partners at first consented, for they were 
 disgusted with the enterprise, which offered little profit and 
 severe hardships. They agreed to leave Ojeda the smallest of 
 the caravels, with a third of the provisions and of their gains, 
 and to build a row boat for him. They actually began to 
 labour upon the boat. Before ten days had elapsed, however, 
 they repented of the arrangement, the ship-carpenters were 
 ill, there were no caulkers, and moreover, they recoUected that 
 as Ojeda, according to their representations, was a defaulter to 
 the crown, they would be liable as his sureties, should they re 
 turn to Spain without him. They concluded, therefore, that 
 the wisest plan was to give him nothing, but to carry him off 
 prisoner. 
 
 When Ojeda learned the determination of his wary partners, 
 he attempted to make his escape and get off to St. Domingo, 
 but he was seized, thrown in irons, and conveyed on board of 
 the caravel. The two partners then set sail from Santa Cruz, 
 bearing off the whole community, its captive governor, and the 
 litigated strong box. 
 
 They put to sea about the beginning of September, and 
 arrived at the western part of the island of Hispaniola. While 
 at anchor within a stone s throw of the land, Ojeda, con 
 fident in his strength and skill as a swimmer, let himself 
 quietly slide down the side of the ship into the water during 
 the night, and attempted to swim for the shore. His arms 
 were free, but his feet were shackled, and the weight of his 
 irons threatened to sink him. He was obliged to shout for 
 help ; a boat was sent from the vessel to his relief, and the un 
 fortunate governor was brought back half drowned to his un 
 relenting partners.* 
 
 The latter now landed and delivered their prisoner into the 
 hands of Gallego, the commander of the place, to be put at the 
 disposal of the governor of the island. In the mean time the 
 strong box, which appears to have been at the bottom of all 
 these feuds, remained in the possession of Vergara and Ocam 
 po, who, Ojeda says, took from it whatever they thought 
 proper, without regard to the royal dues or the consent of the 
 
 * Hist. Gen. de Viages. Hen-era, Hist. Ind. 
 
40 SPANISH VOTAQKS OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 royal supervisor. They were all together, prisoner and ac 
 cusers, in the city of San Domingo, about the end of Septem 
 ber 1502, when the chief judge of the island, after hearing 
 both parties, gave a verdict against Ojeda that stripped him 
 of all his effects, and brought him into debt to the crown for 
 the royal proportion of the profits of the voyage. Ojeda ap 
 pealed to the sovereign, and, after some time, was honour 
 ably acquitted, by the royal council, from all the charges, and 
 a mandate was issued in 1503, ordering a restitution of his 
 property. It appears, however, that the costs of justice, 
 or rather of the law, consumed his share of the treasure of 
 the strong box, and that a royal order was necessary to libe 
 rate him from the hands of the governor; so that, like too 
 many other litigants, he finally emerged from the labyrinths 
 of the law a triumphant client but a ruined man. 
 
THIRD VOYAGE OF ALONZO DE OJEDA. 41 
 
 THIRD VOYAGE OF ALONZO DE OJEDA. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 OJEDA APPLIES FOR A COMMAND HAS A RIVAL CANDIDATE IN 
 DIEGO DE NICUESA HIS SUCCESS. 
 
 FOR several years after his ruinous, though successful law 
 suit, we lose all traces of Alonzo de Ojeda, excepting that we 
 are told he made another voyage to the vicinity of Coquibacoa, 
 in 1505. No record remains of this expedition, which seems to 
 have been equally unprofitable with the preceding, for we find 
 him, in 1508, in the island of Hispaniola, as poor in purse, 
 though as proud in spirit, as ever. In fact, however fortune 
 might have favoured him, he had a heedless, squandering dis 
 position that would always have kept him poor. 
 
 About this time the cupidity of King Ferdinand was greatly 
 excited by the accounts which had been given by Columbus, of 
 the gold mines of Veragua, in which the admiral fancied he 
 had discovered the Aurea Chersonesus of the ancients, from 
 Avhence King Solomon procured the gold used in building the 
 temple of Jerusalem. Subsequent voyagers had corroborated 
 the opinion of Columbus as to the general riches of the coast 
 of Terra Firma ; King Ferdinand resolved, therefore, to found 
 regular colonies along that coast and to place the whole under 
 some capable commander. A project of the kind had been 
 conceived by Columbus, when he discovered that region in the 
 course of his last voyage, and the reader may remember the 
 disasters experienced by his brother Don Bartholomew and 
 himself, in endeavouring to establish a colony on the hostile 
 shores of Veragua. The admiral being dead, the person who 
 should naturally have presented himself to the mind of the 
 sovereign for this particular service was Don Bartholomew, 
 but the wary and selfish monarch knew the Adelantado to be 
 as lofty in his terms as his late brother, and preferred to accom 
 plish his purposes by cheaper agents. He was unwilling, also, 
 
42 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 to increase the consequence of a family, whose vast, but just, 
 claims were already a cause of repining to his sordid and jeal 
 ous spirit. He looked round, therefore, among the crowd of 
 adventurers, who had sprung up in the school of Cclumbus, 
 for some individual who might be ready to serve him on more 
 accommodating terms. Among those, considered by their 
 friends as most fitted for this purpose, was Alonzo de Ojeda, for 
 his roving voyages and daring exploits had made him famous 
 among the voyagers ; and it was thought that an application 
 on his part would be attended with success, for he was known 
 to possess a staunch friend at court in the Bishop Fonseca. 
 Unfortunately he was too far distant to urge his suit to the 
 bishop, and what was worse, he was destitute of money. At 
 this juncture there happened to be at Hispaniola the veteran 
 navigator and pilot, Juan de la Cosa, who was a kind of Nestor 
 in all nautical affairs.* The hardy Biscayan had sailed with 
 Ojeda, and had conceived a great opinion of the courage and 
 talents of the youthful adventurer. He had contrived, also, to 
 fill his purse in the course of his cruising, and now, in the gen 
 erous spirit of a sailor, offered to aid Ojeda, with it in the 
 prosecution of his wishes. 
 
 His offer was gladly accepted ; it was agreed that Juan de la 
 Cosa should depart for Spain, to promote the appointment of 
 Ojeda to the command of Terra Firma, and, in case of success, 
 should fit out, with his own funds, the necessary armament. 
 
 La Cosa departed on his embassy ; he called on the Bishop 
 Fonseca, who, as had been expected, entered warmly into the 
 views of his favourite, Ojeda, and recommended him to the 
 ambitious and bigot king, as a man well fitted to promote his 
 empire in the wilderness, and to dispense the blessings of Chris 
 tianity among the savages. 
 
 The recommendation of the bishop was usually effectual in 
 the affairs of the New World, and the opinion of the veteran 
 de la Cosa had great weight even with the sovereign ; but a 
 
 * Peter Martyr gives the following weighty testimony to the knowledge and skill 
 of this excellent seaman: "Of the Spaniards, as many as thought themselves to 
 have any knowledge of what pertained to measure the land and sea, drew cardes 
 (charts) on parchment as concerning these navigations. Of all others they most 
 esteem them which Juan de la Cosa, the companion of Ojeda, and another pilot, 
 called Andres Morales, had set forth, and this as well for the great experience 
 which both had, (to whom these tracks were as well known as the chambers of their 
 own houses,) as also that they were thought to be cunninger in that part of cos 
 mography which teacheth the description and measuring of the sea." P. Martyr, 
 Decad. ii. c. 10. 
 
THIRD VOYAGE OF ALONZO DE OJEDA. 43 
 
 rival candidate to Ojeda had presented himself, and one who 
 had the advantage of higher connexions and greater pecuniary 
 means. This was Diego de Nicuesa, an accomplished courtier 
 of noble birth, who had filled the post of grand carver to Don 
 Enrique Enriquez, uncle of the king. Nature, education, and 
 habit seemed to have combined to form Nicuesa as a complete 
 rival of Ojeda, Like him he was small of stature, but remark 
 able for symmetry and compactness of form and for bodily 
 strength and activity ; like him he was master at all kinds of 
 weapons, and skilled, not merely in feats of agility but in those 
 graceful and chivalrous exercises, which the Spanish cavaliers 
 of those days had inherited from the Moors; being noted for 
 his vigour and address in the jousts or tilting matches after the 
 Moresco fashion. Ojeda himself could not surpass him in feats 
 of horsemanship, and particular mention is made of a favourite 
 mare, which he could make caper and carricol in strict cadence 
 to the sound of a viol ; beside all this, he was versed in the 
 legendary ballads or romances of his country, and was renowned 
 as a capital performer on the guitar ! Such were the qualifica 
 tions of this candidate for a command in the wilderness, as 
 enumerated by the reverend Bishop Las Casas. It is probable, 
 however, that he had given evidence of qualities more adapted 
 to the desired post ; having already been out to Hispaniola in 
 the military train of the late Governor Ovando. 
 
 Where merits were so singularly balanced as those of Ojeda 
 and Nicuesa, it might have been difficult to decide ; King Ferdi 
 nand avoided the dilemma by favouring both of the candidates ; 
 not indeed by furnishing them with ships and money, but by 
 granting patents and dignities which cost nothing, and might 
 bring rich returns. 
 
 He divided that part of the continent which lies along the 
 Isthmus of Darien into two provinces, the boundary line run 
 ning through the Gulf of Uraba. The eastern part, extending 
 to Cape de la Vela, was called New Andalusia, the government 
 of it given to Ojeda. The other, to the west, including Veragua, 
 and reaching .to Cape Gracias a Dios, was assigned to Nicuesa. 
 The island of Jamaica was given to the two governors in com 
 mon, as a place from whence to draw supplies of provisions. 
 Each of the governors was to erect two fortresses in his dis 
 trict, and to enjoy for ten years the profits of all the mines he 
 should discover, paying to the crown one-tenth part the first 
 year, one-ninth the second, one-eighth the third, one-seventh 
 the fourth, and one-fifth part in each of the remaining years. 
 
44 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 Juan de la Cosa, who had been indefatigable in promoting 
 the suit of Ojeda, was appointed his lieutenant in the govern 
 ment, with the post of Alguazil Mayor of the province. He 
 immediately freighted a ship and two brigantines, in which he 
 embarked with about two hundred men. It was a slender 
 armament, but the purse of the honest voyager was not very 
 deep, and that of Ojeda was empty. Nicuesa, having ampler 
 means, armed four large vessels and two brigantines, furnished 
 them with abundant munitions and supplies, both for the voy 
 age and the projected colony, enlisted a much greater force, 
 and set sail in gay and vaunting style, for the golden shores ot 
 Veragua, the Aurea Chersonesus of his imagination. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 FEUD BETWEEN THE RIVAL GOVERNORS, OJEDA AND NICUESA 
 A CHALLENGE. (1509.) 
 
 THE two rival armaments arrived at San Domingo about the 
 same time. Nicuesa had experienced what was doubtless con 
 sidered a pleasant little turn of fortune by the way. Touching 
 at Santa Cruz, one of the Carribee islands, he had succeeded in 
 capturing a hundred of the natives, whom he had borne off in 
 his ships to be sold as slaves at Hispaniola. This was deemed 
 justifiable in those days, even by the most scrupulous divines, 
 from the belief that the Caribs were all anthropophagi, or 
 man-eaters ; fortunately the opinion of mankind, in this more 
 enlightened age, makes but little difference in atrocity between 
 the cannibal and the kidnapper. 
 
 Alonzo de Ojeda welcomed with joy the arrival of his nau 
 tical friend and future lieutenant in the government, the 
 worthy Juan de la Cosa ; still he could not but feel some mor 
 tification at the inferiority of his armament to that of his rival 
 Nicuesa, whose stately ships rode proudly at anchor in the 
 harbour of San Domingo. He felt, too, that his means were 
 inadequate to the establishment of his intended colony. 
 Ojeda, however, was not long at a loss for pecuniary assist 
 ance. Like many free-spirited men, who are careless and 
 squandering of their own purses, he had a facility at com 
 manding the purses of his neighbours. Among the motley 
 population of San Domingo there was a lawyer of some abili* 
 
THIRD VOYAGE OF ALONZO DE OJEDA. 43 
 
 ties, the Bachelor Martin Fernandez de Enciso, who had made 
 two thousand castillanos by his pleading ;* for it would appear 
 that the spirit of litigation was one of the first fruits of civilized 
 life transplanted to the New World, and nourished surprisingly 
 among the Spanish colonists. 
 
 Alonzo de Ojeda became acquainted with the Bachelor, and 
 finding him to be of a restless and speculative character, soon 
 succeeded in inspiring him with a contempt for the dull but 
 secure and profitable routine of his office in San Domingo, and 
 imbuing him with his own passion for adventure. Above all, 
 he dazzled him with the offer to make him Alcalde Mayor, or 
 chief judge of the provincial government he was about to 
 establish in the wilderness. 
 
 In an evil hour the aspiring Bachelor yielded to the tempta 
 tion, and agreed to invest all his money in the enterprise. It 
 was agreed that Ojeda should depart with the armament which 
 had arrived from Spain, while the Bachelor should remain at 
 Hispaniola to beat up for recruits and provide supplies ; with 
 these he was to embark in a ship purchased by himself, and 
 proceed to join his high-mettled friend at the seat of his in 
 tended colony. Two rival governors, so well matched as 
 Ojeda and Nicuesa, and both possessed of swelling spirits, pent 
 up in small but active bodies, could not remain long in a little 
 place like San Domingo without some collision. The. island of 
 Jamaica, which had been assigned to them in common, fur 
 nished the first ground of contention ; the province of Darien 
 furnished another, each pretending to include it within the 
 limits of his jurisdiction. Their disputes on these points ran 
 so high that the whole place resounded with them. In talk 
 ing, however, Nicuesa had the advantage; having been 
 brought up in the court, he was more polished and ceremoni 
 ous, had greater self-command, and probably perplexed his 
 rival governor in argument. Ojeda was no great casuist, but 
 he was an excellent swordsman, and always ready to fight his 
 way through any question of right or dignity which he could 
 not clearly argue with the tongue ; so he proposed to settle the 
 dispute by single combat. Nicuesa, though equally brave, 
 was more a man of the world, and saw the folly of such arbit 
 rament. Secretly smiling at the heat of his antagonist, he 
 proposed, as a preliminary to the duel, and to furnish some 
 thing worth fighting for, that each should deposit five thou- 
 
 * Equivalent to 10,650 dollars of the present day. 
 
46 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 sand castillanos, to be the prize of the victor. This, as he 
 foresaw, was a temporary check upon the fiery valour of his 
 rival, who did not possess a pistole in his treasury, but prob 
 ably was too proud to confess it. 
 
 It is not likely, however, that the impetuous spirit of Ojeda 
 would long have remained in check, had not the discreet Juan 
 de la Cosa interposed to calm it. It is interesting to notice the 
 great ascendency possessed by this veteran navigator over his 
 fiery associate. Juan de la Cosa was a man whose strong 
 natural good sense had been quickened by long and hard 
 experience; whose courage was above all question, but tem 
 pered by time and trial. He seems to have been personally 
 attached to Ojeda, as veterans who have outlived the rash im 
 pulse of youthful valour are apt to love the fiery quality in 
 their younger associates. So long as he accompanied Ojeda in 
 Ms enterprises, he stood by him as a Mentor in council, and a 
 devoted partisan in danger. 
 
 In the present instance the interference of this veteran of the 
 seas had the most salutary effect ; he prevented the impending 
 duel of the rival governors, and persuaded them to agree that 
 the river Darien should be the boundary line between their 
 respective jurisdictions. 
 
 The dispute relative to Jamaica was settled by the Admiral 
 Don Diego Columbus himself. He had already felt aggrieved 
 by the distribution of these governments by the king, without 
 his consent or even knowledge, being contrary to the privileges 
 which he inherited from his father, the discoverer. It was in 
 vain to contend, however, when the matter was beyond his 
 reach and involved in technical disputes. But as to the island 
 of Jamaica, it in a manner lay at his own door, and he could 
 not brook its being made a matter of gift to these brawling 
 governors. Without waiting the slow and uncertain course of 
 making remonstrances to the king, he took the affair, as a 
 matter of plain right, into his own hands and ordered a brave 
 officer, Juan de Esquibel, the same who had subjugated the 
 province of Higuey, to take possession of that island, with 
 seventy men, and to hold it subject to his command. 
 
 Ojeda did not hear of this arrangement until he was on the 
 point of embarking to make sail. In the heat of the moment 
 he loudly defied the power of the admiral, and swore that if he 
 ever found Juan de Esquibel on the island of Jamaica he would 
 strike off his head. The populace present heard this menace, 
 and had too thorough an idea of the fiery and daring character 
 
THIRD VOYAGE OF ALONZO DE OJKDA. 47 
 
 of Ojeda to doubt that he would carry it into effect. Notwith 
 standing his bravado, however, Juan de Esquibel proceeded 
 according to his orders to take possession of the island of 
 Jamaica. 
 
 The squadron of Nicuesa lingered for some time after the 
 sailing of his rival. His courteous and engaging manners, 
 aided by the rumour of great riches in the province of Vera- 
 gua, where he intended to found his colony, had drawn numer 
 ous volunteers to his standard, insomuch that he had to pur 
 chase another ship to convey them. 
 
 Nicuesa was more of the courtier and the cavalier than the 
 man of business, and had no skill in managing his pecuniary 
 affairs. He had expended his funds with a free and lavish 
 hand, and involved himself in debts which he had not the im 
 mediate means of paying. Many of his creditors knew that 
 his expedition was regarded with an evil eye by the Admiral, 
 Don Diego Columbus ; to gain favour with the latter, therefore, 
 they threw all kinds of impediments in the way of Nicuesa. 
 Never WP.S an unfortunate gentleman more harassed and dis 
 tracted by duns and demands, one plucking at his skirts as 
 soon as the other was satisfied. He succeeded, however, in 
 getting all his forces embarked. He had seven hundred men, 
 well chosen and well armed, together with six horses. He 
 chose Lope de Olano to be his captain-general, a seemingly 
 impolitic appointment, as this Olano had been concerned with 
 the notorious Roldan in his rebellion against Columbus. 
 
 The squadron sailed out of the harbour and put to sea, ex 
 cepting one ship, which, with anchor a-trip and sails unfurled, 
 waited to receive Nicuesa, who was detained on shore until 
 the last moment by the perplexities which had been artfuDy 
 multiplied around him. 
 
 Just as he was on the point of stepping into his boat he 
 was arrested by the harpies of the law, and carried before the 
 Alcalde Mayor to answer a demand for five hundred ducats, 
 which he was ordered to pay on the spot, or prepare to go to 
 prison. 
 
 This was a thunderstroke to the unfortunate cavalier. In 
 vain he represented his utter incapacity to furnish such a sum 
 at the moment ; in vain he represented the ruin that would 
 accrue to himself and the vast injury to the public service, 
 should he be prevented from joining his expedition. The Al 
 calde Mayor was inflexible, and Nicuesa was reduced to de 
 spair. At this critical moment relief came from a most unex- 
 
48 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 pected quarter. The heart of a public notary was melted by 
 his distress ! He stepped forward in court and declared that 
 rather than see so gallant a gentleman reduced to extremity 
 he himself would pay down the money. Nicuesa gazed at him 
 with astonishment, and could scarcely believe his senses, but 
 when he saw him actually pay off the debt, and found himself 
 suddenly released from this dreadful embarrassment, he em 
 braced his deliverer with tears of gratitude, and hastened with 
 all speed to embark, lest some other legal spell should be laid 
 upon his person. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 EXPLOITS AND DISASTERS OF OJEDA ON THE COAST OF CARTHA- 
 GENA FATE OF THE VETERAN JUAN DE LA COSA. (1509.) 
 
 IT was on the 10th of November, 1509, that Alonzo de Ojeda, 
 set sail from San Domingo with two ships, two brigantines, 
 and three hundred men. He took with him also twelve brood 
 mares. Among the remarkable adventurers who embarked 
 with him was Francisco Pizarro, who was afterwards re 
 nowned as the conqueror of Peru.* Hernando Cortez had like 
 wise intended to sail in the expedition, but was prevented by 
 an inflammation in one of his knees. 
 
 The voyage was speedy and prosperous, and they arrived late 
 in the autumn in the harbour of Carthagena. The veteran 
 Juan de la Cosa was well acquainted with this place, having 
 sailed as pilot with Rodrigo de Bastides, at the time he discov 
 ered it in 1501. He warned Alonzo de Ojeda to be upon his 
 guard, as the natives were a brave and warlike race, of Carib 
 
 * Francisco Pizarro was a native of Truxillo in Estremadura. He was the ille 
 gitimate fruit of an amour between Gonsalvo Pizarro, a veteran captain of in 
 fantry, and a damsel in low life. His childhood was passed in grovelling occu 
 pations incident to the humble condition of his mother, and he is said to have 
 been a swineherd. When he had sufficiently increased in years and stature he en 
 listed as a soldier. His first campaigns may have been against the Moors in the 
 war of Granada. He certainly served in Italy under the banner of the Great Cap 
 tain, Gonsalvo of Cordova. His roving spirit then induced him to join the bands 
 of adventurers to the New World. He was of ferocious courage, and, when en 
 gaged in any enterprise, possessed an obstinate perseverance that was neither to 
 be deterred by danger, weakened by fatigue and hardship, or checked by repeated 
 disappointment. After having conquered the great kingdom of Peru, he was as 
 sassinated, at an advanced age, in 1541, defending himself_bravely to the last. 
 
THIRD VOYAGE OF ALONZO DE OJEDA. 49 
 
 origin, far different from the soft and gentle inhabitants of the 
 islands. They wielded great swords of palm-wood, defended 
 themselves with osier targets, and dipped their arrows in the 
 subtle poison. The women, as well as the men, mingled in bat 
 tle, being expert in drawing the bow and throwing a species of 
 lance called the azagay. The warning was well timed, for the 
 Indians of these parts had been irritated by the misconduct of 
 previous adventurers, and flew to arms on the first appearance 
 of the ships. 
 
 Juan de la Cosa now feared for the safety of the enterprise 
 in which he had person, fortune, and official dignity at stake. 
 He earnestly advised Ojeda to abandon this dangerous neigh 
 bourhood, and to commence a settlement in the guK of Uraba, 
 where the people were less ferocious, and did not use poisoned 
 weapons. Ojeda was too proud of spirit to alter his plans 
 through fear of a naked foe. It is thought, too, that he had 
 no objection to a skirmish, being desirous of a pretext to make 
 slaves to be sent to Hispaniola in discharge of the debts he 
 had left unpaid.* He landed, therefore, with a considerable 
 part of his force, and a number of friars, who had been sent 
 out to convert the Indians. His faithful lieutenant, being un 
 able to keep him out ot danger, stood by to second him. 
 
 Ojeda advanced towards the savages, and ordered the friars 
 to read aloud a certain formula which had recently been di 
 gested by profound jurists and divines in Spain. It began in 
 stately form. "I, Alonzo de Ojeda, servant of the most high 
 and mighty sovereigns of Castile and Leon, conquerors of bar 
 barous nations, their messenger and captain, do notify unto 
 you, and make you know, in the best way I can, that God our 
 Lord, one and eternal, created the heaven and the earth, and 
 one man and one woman, from whom you and we, and all the 
 people of the earth proceeded, and are descendants, as well as 
 those who shall come hereafter." The formula then went on 
 to declare the fundamental principles of the Catholic Faith: 
 the supreme power given to St. Peter over the world and all 
 the human race, and exercised by his representative the pope ; 
 the donation made by a late pope of all this part of the world 
 and all its inhabitants, to the Catholic sovereigns of Castile; 
 and the ready obedience which had already been paid by many 
 of its lands and islands and people to the agents and represent 
 atives of those sovereigns. It called upon those savages pre&. 
 
 *Las Casas. Hist. Ind. 1. ii. c- 57, MS 
 
50 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 ent, therefore, to do the same, to acknowledge the truth of the 
 Christian doctrines, the supremacy of the pope, and the sov 
 ereignty of the Catholic King, but, in case of refusal, it de 
 nounced upon them all the horrors of war, the desolation of 
 their dwellings, the seizure of their property, and the slavery 
 of their wives and children. Such was the extraordinary doc 
 ument, which, from this time forward, was read by the Span 
 ish discoverers to the wondering savages of any newly-found 
 country, as a prelude to sanctify the violence about to be in 
 flicted on them.* 
 
 When the friars had read this pious manifesto, Ojeda made 
 signs of amity to the natives, and held up glittering presents ; 
 they had already suffered, however, from the cruelties of the 
 white men, and were not to be won by kindness. On the con 
 trary, they brandished their weapons, sounded their conchs, 
 and prepared to make battle. 
 
 Juan de la Cosa saw the rising choler of Ojeda, and knew his 
 fiery impatience. He again entreated him to abandon these 
 hostile shores, and reminded him of the venomous weapons of 
 the enemy. It was all in vain : Ojeda confided blindly in the 
 protection of the Virgin. Putting up, as usual, a short prayer 
 to his patroness, he drew his weapon, braced his buckler, and 
 charged furiously upon the savages. Juan de la Cosa followed 
 as heartily as if the battle had been of his own seeking. The 
 Indians were soon routed, a number killed, and several taken 
 prisoners ; on their persons were found plates of gold, but of an 
 inferior quality. Flushed by this triumph, Ojeda took several 
 of the prisoners as guides, and pursued the flying enemy four 
 leagues into the interior. He was followed, as usual, by his 
 faithful lieutenant, the veteran La Cosa, continually remon 
 strating against his useless temerity, but hardily seconding 
 him in the most hare-brained perils. Having penetrated far 
 into the forest, they came to a strong-hold of the enemy, where 
 a numerous force was ready to receive them, armed with clubs, 
 lances, arrows, and bucklers. Ojeda led his men to the charge 
 with the old Castilian war cry> "Santiago !" The savages soon 
 took to flight. Eight of their bravest warriors threw them 
 selves into a cabin, and plied their bows and arrows so vigor 
 ously, that the Spaniards were kept at bay. Ojeda cried shame 
 upon his followers to be daunted by eight naked men. Stung 
 
 * The reader will find the complete form of this curious manifesto in the 
 pendix. 
 
THIRD VOYAGE OF ALO.NZO DE OJEDA. 51 
 
 by this reproach, an old Castilian soldier rushed through a 
 shower of arrows, and forced the door of the cabin, but re 
 ceived a shaft through the heart, and fell dead on the thresh 
 old. Ojeda, furious at the sight, ordered fire to be set to the 
 combustible edifice ; in a moment it was in a blaze, and the 
 eight warriors perished in the flames. 
 
 Seventy Indians were made captive and sent to the ships, 
 and Ojeda, regardless of the remonstrances of Juan de la Cosa, 
 continued his rash pursuit of the fugitives through the forest. 
 In the dusk of the evening they arrived at a village called 
 Yurbaco ; the inhabitants of which had fled to the mountains 
 with their wives and children and principal effects. The Span 
 iards, imagining that the Indians were completely terrified and 
 dispersed, now roved in quest of booty among the deserted 
 houses, which stood distant from each other, buried among the 
 trees. While they were thus scattered, troops of savages 
 rushed forth, with furious yells, from all parts of the forest. 
 The Spaniards endeavoured to gather together and support 
 each other, but every little party was surrounded by a host of 
 foes. They fought with desperate bravery, but for once their 
 valour and their iron armour were of no avail ; they were over 
 whelmed by numbers, and sank beneath war-clubs and poi 
 soned arrows. 
 
 Ojeda on the first alarm collected a few soldiers and en 
 sconced himself within a small enclosure, surrounded by pali 
 sades. Here he was closely besieged and galled by flights of 
 arrows. He threw himself on his knees, covered himself with 
 his buckler, and, being small and active, managed to protect 
 himself from the deadly shower, but all his companions were 
 slain by his side, some of them perishing in frightful agonies. 
 At this fearful moment the veteran La Cosa, having heard of 
 the peril of his commander, arrived, with a few followers, to 
 his assistance. Stationing himself at the gate of the palisades, 
 the brave Biscayan kept the savages at bay until most of his 
 men were slain and he himself was severely wounded. Just 
 then Ojeda sprang forth like a tiger into the midst of the 
 enemy, dealing his blows on every side. La Cosa would have 
 seconded him, but was crippled by his wounds. He took refuge 
 with the remnant of his men in an Indian cabin ; the straw roof 
 of which he aided them to throw off, lest the enemy should set 
 it on fire. Here he defended himself until all his comrades, 
 but one, were destroyed. The subtle poison of his wounds at 
 length overpowered him, and he sank to the ground. Feeling 
 
52 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 death at hand, he called to his only surviving companion. 
 4 Brother, "said he, "since God hath protected thee from harm, 
 sally forth and fly, and if ever thou shouldst see Alonzo de 
 Ojeda, tell him of my fate!" 
 
 Thus fell the hardy Juan de la Cosa, faithful and devoted to 
 the very last ; nor can we refrain from pausing to pay a pass 
 ing tribute to his memory. He was acknowledged by his con 
 temporaries to be one of the ablest of those gallant Spanish 
 navigators who first explored the way to the New World. But 
 it is by the honest and kindly qualities of his heart that his 
 memory is most endeared to us ; it is, above all, by that loyalty 
 in friendship displayed in this his last and fatal expedition. 
 Warmed by his attachment for a more youthful and a hot 
 headed adventurer, we see this wary veteran of the seas for 
 getting his usual prudence and the lessons of his experience, 
 and embarking, heart and hand, purse and person, in the wild 
 enterprises of his favourite. We behold him watching over 
 him as a parent, remonstrating with him as a counsellor, but 
 fighting by him as a partisan ; following him, without hesita 
 tion, into known and needless danger, to certain death itself, 
 and showing no other solicitude in his dying moments but to 
 be remembered by his friend. 
 
 The histories of these Spanish discoveries abound in noble 
 and generous traits of character, but few have charmed us 
 more than this instance of loyalty to the last gasp, in the 
 death of the staunch Juan de la Cosa. The Spaniard who es 
 caped to tell the story of his end was the only survivor of 
 seventy that had followed Ojeda in this rash and headlong 
 inroad. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ARRIVAL OF NICUESA VENGEANCE TAKEN ON THE INDIANS. 
 
 WHILE these disastrous occurrences happened on shore, 
 great alarm began to be felt on board of the ships. Days had 
 elapsed since the party had adventured so rashly into the wil 
 derness ; yet nothing had been seen or heard of them, and the 
 forest spread a mystery over their fate. Some of the Spaniards 
 ventured a little distance into the woods, but were deterred by 
 the distant shouts and yells of the savages, and the noise of 
 
THIRD VOYAGE OF ALONZO DE OJEDA. 53 
 
 their conchs and drums. Armed detachments then coasted 
 the shore in boats, landing occasionally, climbing the rocks and 
 promontories, firing signal-guns, and sounding trumpets. It 
 was all in vain ; they heard nothing but the echoes of their 
 own noises, or perhaps the wild whoop of an Indian from the 
 bosom of the forest. At length, when they were about to give 
 up the search in despair, they came to a great thicket of man 
 grove trees on the margin of the sea. These trees grow within 
 the water, but their roots rise, and are intertwined, above the 
 surface. In this entangled and almost impervious grove, they 
 caught a glimpse of a man in Spanish attire. They entered, 
 and, to their astonishment, found it to be Alonzo de Ojeda. 
 Tie was lying on the matted roots of the mangroves, .his buck 
 ler on his shoulder, and his sword in his hand; but so wasted 
 with hunger and fatigue that he could not speak. They bore 
 him to the firm land ; made a fire on the shore to warm him, 
 for he was chilled with the damp and cold of his hiding-place, 
 and when he was a little revived they gave him food and wine. 
 In this way he gradually recovered strength to tell his doleful 
 story.* 
 
 He had succeeded in cutting his way through the host of 
 savages, and attaining the woody skirts of the mountains ; but 
 when he found himself alone, and that all his brave men had 
 been cut off, he was ready to yield up in despair. Bitterly did 
 he reproach himself for having disregarded the advice of the 
 veteran La Cosa, and deeply did he deplore the loss of that 
 loyal follower, who had fallen a victim to his devotion. He 
 scarce knew which way to bend his course, but continued on, 
 in the darkness of the night and of the forest, until out of hear 
 ing of the yells of triumph uttered by the savages over the 
 bodies of his men. When the day broke, he sought the rudest 
 parts of the mountains, and hid himself until the night ; then 
 struggling forward among rocks, and precipices, and matted 
 forests, he made his way to the sea-side, but was too much ex 
 hausted to reach the ships. Indeed it was wonderful that one 
 
 * The picture here given is so much like romance, that the author quotes his 
 authority at length : " Llegaron adonde havia. junto al agua de la mar, vinos Man- 
 glares, quo son arboles, que siempre nacen, i crecen i permanecen dentro del agua 
 de la mar. con grandes raices, asidas, i enmarafiadas unas con otras, i alii metido, 
 i escondido hallaron a Alon/o de Ojeda, con su espada en la mano, i la rodela en 
 las espaklas, i en ella sobre trecientas senales de flechazos. Estabo descaido de 
 hambre. que no podia hechar de si la habla; i si no fuera tan robusto, aunque chico 
 de cuerpo, fuera muerto." 
 
 Las Casas. 1. ii. c. 58. MS. Herrara, Hist. Ind. D. i. 1. vii. c. xv. 
 
4 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVEHf. 
 
 so small of frame should have been able to endure such great 
 hardships; but he was of admirable strength and hardihood. 
 His foRowers considered his escape from death as little less 
 than miraculous, and he himself regarded it as another proof 
 of the special protection of the Virgin ; for, though he had, as 
 usual, received no wound, yet it is said his buckler bore the 
 dints of upwards of three hundred arrows.* 
 
 While the Spaniards were yet on the shore, administering 
 to the recovery of their commander, the v beheld a squadron 
 of ships standing towards the harbour of Carthagena, and 
 soon perceived them to be the ships of Nicuesa. Ojeda was 
 troubled in mind at the sight, recollecting his late intem 
 perate defiance of that cavalier; and, reflecting that, should 
 he seek him in enmity, he was in no situation to main 
 tain his challenge or defend himself. He ordered his men, 
 therefore, to return on board the ships and leave him alone on 
 the shore, and not to reveal the place of his retreat while 
 Nicuesa should remain in the harbour. 
 
 As the squadron entered the harbour, the boats sallied forth 
 to meet it. The first inquiry of Nicuesa was concerning Ojeda. 
 The followers of the latter replied, mournfully, that their com 
 mander had gone on a warlike expedition into the country, 
 but days had elapsed without his return, so that they feared 
 some misfortune had befallen him. They entreated Nicuesa, 
 therefore, to give his word, as a cavalier, that should Ojeda 
 really be in distress, he would not take advantage of his mis 
 fortunes to revenge himself for their late disputes. 
 
 Nicuesa, who was a gentleman of noble and generous spirit, 
 blushed with indignation at such a request. Seek your com 
 mander instantly, " said he ; bring him to me if he be alive ; 
 and I pledge myself not merely to forget the past, but to aid 
 him as if he were a brother, t 
 
 When they met, Nicuesa received his late foe with open 
 arms. "It is not," said he, "for Hidalgos, like men of vulgar 
 souls, to remember past differences when they behold one an 
 other in distress. Henceforth, let all that has occurred be 
 tween us be forgotten. Command rne as a brother. Myself 
 and my men are at your orders, to follow you wherever you 
 please, until the deaths of Juan de la Cosa and his comrades 
 are revenged." 
 
 The spirits of Ojeda were once more lifted up by this gallant 
 
 $ Las Casas, ubi sup. t Ibid. 
 
THIRD VOYAGE OF ALONZO DE OJEDA. 55 
 
 and generous offer. The two governors, no longer rivals, 
 landed four hundred of their men and several horses, and set 
 off with all speed for the fatal village. They approached it 
 in the night, and, dividing their forces into two parties, gave 
 orders that not an Indian should be taken alive. 
 
 The village was buried in deep sleep, but the woods were- 
 filled with large parrots, which, being awakened, made a pro 
 digious clamour. The Indians, however, thinking the Span^ 
 iards all destroyed, paid no attention to these noises. It was 
 hot until their houses were assailed, and wrapped in flames, 
 that they took the alarm. They rushed forth, some with arms, 
 some weaponless, but were received at their doors by the exas 
 perated Spaniards, and either slain on the spot, or driven back 
 into the fire. Women fled wildly forth with children in their 
 arms, but at sight of the Spaniards glittering in steel, and of 
 the horses, which they supposed ravenous monsters, they ran 
 back, shrieking with horror, into their burning habitations. 
 Great was the carnage, for no quarter was shown to age or sex. 
 Many perished by the fire, and many by the sword. 
 
 When they had fully glutted their vengeance, the Spaniards 
 ranged about for booty. While thus employed, they found the 
 body of the unfortunate Juan de la Cosa. It was tied to a tree, 
 but swoln and discoloured in a hideous manner by the poison 
 of the arrows with which he had been slain. This dismal 
 spectacle had such an effect upon the common men, that not 
 one would remain in that place during the night. Having 
 sacked the village, therefore, they left it a smoking ruin, and 
 returned in triumph to their ships. The spoil in gold and other 
 articles of value must have been great, for the share of Nicuesa 
 and his men amounted to the value of seven thousand castil- 
 lanos.* The two governors, now faithful confederates, parted 
 with many expressions of friendship, and with mutual admira 
 tion of each other s prowess, and Nicuesa continued his voyage 
 for the coast of Veragua. 
 
 * Equivalent to 37,281 dollars of the present day. 
 
56 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY, 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 OJEDA FOUNDS THE COLONY OF SAN SEBASTIAN BELEAGUERED 
 BY THE INDIANS. 
 
 OJEDA now adopted, though tardily, the advice of his un 
 fortunate lieutenant, Juan de la Cosa, and, giving up all 
 thoughts of colonising this disastrous part of the coast, steered 
 his course for the Gulf of Uraba. He sought for some time the 
 river Darien, famed among the Indians as abounding in gold, 
 but not finding it, landed in various places, seeking a favour 
 able site for his intended colony. His people were disheart 
 ened by the disasters they had already undergone, and the 
 appearance of surrounding objects was not calculated to reas 
 sure them. The country, though fertile and covered with rich 
 and beautiful vegetation, was in their eyes a land of cannibals 
 and monsters. They began to dread the strength as well as 
 fierceness of the savages, who could transfix a man with their 
 arrows even when covered with armour, and whose shafts 
 were tipped with deadly poison. They heard the bowlings of 
 tigers, panthers, and, as they thought, lions in the forests, and 
 encountered large and venomous serpents among the rocks and 
 thickets. As they were passing along the banks of a river, 
 one of their horses was seized by the leg by an enormous 
 alligator, and dragged beneath the waves.* 
 
 At length Ojeda fixed upon a place for his town on a height 
 at the east side of the Gulf. Here, landing all that could be 
 spared from the ships, he began with all diligence to erect 
 houses, giving this embryo capital of his province the name of 
 San Sebastian, in honour of that sainted martyr, who was slain 
 by arrows ; hoping he might protect the inhabitants from the 
 empoisoned shafts of the savages. As a further protection he 
 erected a large wooden fortress, and surrounded the place with 
 a stockade. Feeling, however, the inadequacy of his handful 
 of men to contend with the hostile tribes around him, he de 
 spatched a ship to Hispaniola, with a letter to the Bachelor, 
 Martin Fernandez de Enciso, his Alcalde Mayor, informing him 
 of his having established his seat of government, and urging 
 him to lose no time in joining him with all the recruits, arms, 
 
 * Herrera, Hist. Ind, D. i. 1. vii. c. xvi, 
 
Till III) VOYAGE OF ALONZO DK OJEDA. 57 
 
 and provisions he could command. By the same ship he trans 
 mitted to San Domingo all the captives and gold he had col 
 lected. 
 
 His capital being placed in a posture of defence, Ojeda now 
 thought of making a progress through his wild territory, and 
 set out, accordingly, with an armed band, to pay a friendly 
 visit to a neighbouring cacique, reputed as possessing great 
 treasures of gold. The natives, however, had by this time 
 learnt the nature of these friendly visits, and were prepared to 
 resist them. Scarcely had the Spaniards entered into the de 
 files of the surrounding forest when they were assailed by 
 nights of arrows from the close coverts of the thickets. Some 
 were shot dead on the spot; others, less fortunate, expired 
 raving with the torments of the poison ; the survivors, filled 
 with horror at the sight, and losing all presence of mind, re 
 treated in confusion to the fortress. 
 
 It was some time before Ojeda could again persuade his men 
 to take the field, so great was their dread of the poisoned 
 weapons of the Indians. At length their provisions began to 
 fail, and they were compelled to forage among the villages in 
 search, not of gold, but of food. 
 
 In one of their expeditions they were surprised by an am 
 buscade of savages in a gorge of the mountains, and attacked 
 with such fury and effect, that they were completely routed 
 and pursued with yells and bowlings to the very gates of St. 
 Sebastian. Many died in excruciating agony of their wounds, 
 and others recovered with extreme difficulty. Those who were 
 well no longer dared to venture forth in search of food ; for the 
 whole forest teemed with lurking foes. They devoured such 
 herbs and roots as they could find without regard to their 
 quality. The humors of their bodies became corrupted, and 
 various diseases, combined with the ravages of famine, daily 
 thinned their numbers. The sentinel who feebly mounted 
 guard at night was often found dead at his post in the morn 
 ing. Some stretched themselves on the ground and expired of 
 ID ere famine and debility ; nor was death any longer regarded 
 as ?.n evil, but rather as a welcome relief from a life of horror 
 and despair. 
 
8 8PANIS11 VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ALONZO DE OJEDA SUPPOSED BY THE SAVAGES TO HAVE A 
 CHARMED LIFE THEIR EXPERIMENT TO TRY THE FACT. 
 
 IN the mean time the Indians continued to harass the garri 
 son, lying in wait to surprise the foraging parties, cutting off 
 all stragglers, and sometimes approaching the walls in open 
 defiance. On such occasions Ojeda sallied forth at the head of 
 his men, and, from his great agility, was the first to overtake 
 the retreating foe. He slew more of their warriors with his single 
 arm than all his followers together. Though often exposed to 
 showers of arrows, none had ever wounded him, and the In 
 dians began to think he had a charmed life. Perhaps they had 
 heard from fugitive prisoners the idea entertained by him 
 self and hitf followers of his being under supernatural protec 
 tion. Determined to ascertain the fact, they placed four of 
 their most dexterous archers in ambush with orders to single 
 him out. A number of them advanced towards the fort 
 sounding their conchs and drums and uttering yells of defiance. 
 As they expected, the impetuous Ojeda sallied forth immedi 
 ately at the head of his men. The Indians fled towards the am 
 buscade, drawing him in furious pursuit. The archers waited 
 until he was full in front, and then launched their deadly 
 shafts. Three struck his buckler and glanced harmlessly off, 
 but the fourth pierced his thigh. Satisfied that he was 
 wounded beyond the possibility of cure, the savages retreated 
 Avith shouts of triumph. 
 
 Ojeda was borne back to the fortress in great anguish of 
 body and despondency of spirit. For the first time in his lil o 
 he had lost blood in battle. The charm in which he had hith 
 erto confided was broken ; or rather, the Holy Virgin appeared 
 to have withdrawn her protection. He had the horrible death 
 of his followers before his eyes, who had perished of their 
 wounds in raving frenzy. 
 
 One of the symptoms of the poison was to shoot a thrilling 
 chill through the wounded part ; from this circumstance, per 
 haps, a remedy suggested itself to the imagination of Ojeda, 
 which few but himself could have had the courage to undergo. 
 He caused two plates of iron to be made red hot, and ordered a 
 surgeon to apply them to each orifice of the wound. The sur 
 geon shuddered and refused, saying he would, not be the mur. 
 
THIRD VOYAGE OF ALONZO DE OJEDA. 59 
 
 derer of his general.* Upon this Ojeda made a solemn vow 
 that he would hang him unless he obeyed. To avoid the gal 
 lows, the surgeon applied the glowing plates. Ojeda refused 
 to be tied down, or that any one should hold him during this 
 frightful operation. He endured it without shrinking or 
 uttering a murmur, although it so inflamed his whole system, 
 that they had to wrap him in sheets steeped in vinegar to allay 
 the burning heat which raged throughout his body ; and we 
 are assured that a barrel of vinegar was exhausted for the pur 
 pose. The desperate remedy succeeded : the cold poison, says 
 Bishop Las Casas, was consumed by the vivid fire.t How far 
 the venerable historian is correct in his postulate, surgeons 
 may decide; but many incredulous persons will be apt to 
 account for the cure by surmising that the arrow was not en 
 venomed. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ARRIVAL OF A STRANGE SHIP AT SAN SEBASTIAN. 
 
 ALONZO DE OJEDA, though pronounced out of danger, was 
 still disabled by his wound, and his helpless situation com 
 pleted the despair of his companions; for, while he was in 
 health and vigour, his buoyant and mercurial spirit, his active, 
 restless, and enterprising habits, imparted animation, if not 
 confidence, to every one around him. The only hope of relief 
 was from the sea, and that was nearly extinct, when, one day, 
 to the unspeakable joy of the Spaniards, a sail appeared on the 
 horizon. It made for the port and dropped anchor at the foot 
 of the height of San Sebastian, and there was no longer a doubt 
 that it was the promised succour from San Domingo. 
 
 The ship came indeed from the island of Hispaniola, but it 
 had not been fitted out by the Ba,chelor Enciso. The com 
 mander s name was Bernardino de Talavera. This man was 
 one of the loose, heedless adventurers who abounded in San 
 Domingo. His carelessness and extravagance had involved 
 him in debt, and he was threatened with a prison. In the 
 height of his difficulties the ship arrived which Ojeda had 
 
 * Charlevoix, ntsup,, p. 293. 
 
 t Las Casas, Hist. Ind. lib. ii. c. 59, MS. 
 
60 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DTSCOVEHY. 
 
 sent to San Domingo, freighted with slaves and gold, an 
 earnest of the riches to be found at San Sebastian. Bernar 
 dino de Talavera immediately conceived the project of giving 
 his creditors the slip and escaping to this new settlement. He 
 understood that Ojeda was in need of recruits, and felt as 
 sured that, from his own reckless conduct in money -matters, 
 he would sympathize with any one harassed by debt. He 
 drew into his schemes a number of desperate debtors like 
 himself, nor was he scrupulous about filling his ranks with 
 recruits whose legal embarrassments arose from more criminal 
 causes. Never did a more vagabond crew engage in a project 
 of colonization. 
 
 How to provide themselves with a vessel was now the ques 
 tion. They had neither money nor credit ; but then they had 
 cunning and courage, and were troubled by no scruples of con 
 science; thus qualified, a knave will often succeed better for a 
 time than an honest man ; it is in the long run that he fails, as 
 will be illustrated in the case of Talavera and his hopeful asso 
 ciates. While casting about for means to escape to San Sebas 
 tian they heard of a vessel belonging to certain Genoese, which 
 was at Cape Tiburon, at the western extremity of the island, 
 taking in a cargo of bacon and casava bread for San Domingo. 
 Nothing could have happened more opportunely : here was a 
 ship amply stored with provisions, and ready to their hand ; 
 they had nothing to do but seize it and embark. 
 
 The gang, accordingly, seventy in number, made their way 
 separately and secretly to Cape Tiburon, where, assembling at 
 an appointed time and place, they boarded the vessel, over 
 powered the crew, weighed anchor, and set sail. They were 
 heedless, hap-hazard mariners, and knew little of the manage 
 ment of a vessel ; the historian Charlevoix thinks, therefore, 
 that it was a special providence that guided them to San Sebas 
 tian. Whether or not the good father is right in his opinion, 
 it is certain that the arrival of the ship rescued the garrison 
 from the very brink of destruction. * 
 
 Talavera and his gang, though they had come lightly by 
 their prize, were not disposed to part with it as frankly, but 
 demanded to be paid down in gold for the provisions furnished 
 to the starving colonists. Ojeda agreed to their terms, and 
 taking the supplies into his possession, dealt them out spar 
 ingly to his companions. Several of his hungry followers were 
 
 * Higt. S. Domingo, lib. iv. 
 
THIRD VOYAGE 0: ALONZO DE OJEDA. 61 
 
 dissatisfied with their portions, and even accused Ojeda of un 
 fairness in reserving an undue share for himself. Perhaps 
 there may have been some ground for this charge, arising, not 
 from any selfishness in the character of Ojeda, but from one of 
 those superstitious fancies with which his mind was tinged ; for 
 we are told that, for many years, he had been haunted by a 
 presentiment that he should eventually die of hunger.* 
 
 This lurking horror of the mind may have made him depart 
 from his usual free and lavish spirit in doling out these provi 
 dential supplies, and may have induced him to set by an extra 
 portion for himself, as a precaution against his anticipated fate ; 
 certain it is that great clamours rose among his people, some 
 of whom threatened to return in the pirate vessel to Hispa- 
 iiiola. He succeeded, however, in pacifying them for the pres 
 ent, by representing the necessity of husbanding their supplies, 
 and by assuring them that the Bachelor Enciso could not fail 
 soon to arrive, when there would be provisions in abundance. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FACTIONS IN THE COLONY A CONVENTION MADE. 
 
 DAYS and days elapsed, but no relief arrived at San Sebas 
 tian. The Spaniards kept a ceaseless watch upon the sea, but 
 the promised ship failed to appear. With all the husbandry 
 of Ojeda the stock of provisions was nearly consumed ; famine 
 again prevailed, and several of the garrison perished through 
 their various sufferings and their lack of sufficient nourish 
 ment. The survivors now became factious in their misery, and 
 a plot was formed among them to seize upon one of the vessels 
 in the harbour and make sail for Hispaniola. 
 
 Ojeda discovered their intentions, and was reduced to great 
 perplexity. He saw that to remain here without relief from 
 abroad was certain destruction, yet he clung to his desperate 
 enterprise. It was his only chance for fortune or command ; 
 for should this settlement be broken up he might try in vain, 
 with his exhausted means and broken credit, to obtain another 
 post or to set on foot another expedition. Ruin in fact would 
 overwhelm him, should he return without success. 
 
 , \, I viii, Q. 3, 
 
62 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCO VEHT. 
 
 He exerted himself, therefore, to the utmost to pacify his 
 men ; representing the folly of abandoning a place where they 
 had established a foothold, and where they only needed a rein 
 forcement to enable them to control the surrounding country, 
 and to make themselves masters of its riches. Finding they 
 still demurred, he offered, now that he was sufficiently recov 
 ered from his wound, to go himself to San Domingo in quest of 
 reinforcements ana supplies. 
 
 This offer had the desired effect. Such confidence had the 
 people in the energy, ability, and influence of Ojeda, that they 
 felt assured of relief should he seek it in person. They made a 
 kind of convention with him, therefore, in which it was agreed 
 that they should remain quietly at Sebastian s for the space of 
 fifty days. At the end of this time, in case no tidings had been 
 received of Ojeda, they were to be at liberty to abandon the 
 settlement and return in the brigantines to Hispaniola. In the 
 mean time Francisco Pizarro was to command the colony as 
 Lieutenant of Ojeda, until the arrival of his Alcalde Mayor, 
 the Bachelor Enciso. This convention being made, Ojeda em 
 barked in the ship of Bernardino de Talavera. That cut-purse 
 of the ocean and his loose-handed crew were effectually cured 
 of their ambition to colonize. Disappointed in the hope of find 
 ing abundant wealth at San Sebastian s, and dismayed at the 
 perils and horrors of the surrounding wilderness, they pre 
 ferred returning to Hispaniola, even at the risk of chains and 
 dungeons. Doubtless they thought that the influence of Ojeda 
 would be sufficient to obtain their pardon, especially as their 
 timely succour had been the salvation of the colony. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 DISASTOOUS VOYAGE OF OJEDA IN THE PIRATE SHIP. 
 
 OJEDA had scarce put to sea in the ship of these freebooters, 
 when a fierce quarrel arose between him and Talavera. Ac 
 customed to take the lead among his companions, still feeling 
 himself governor, and naturally of a domineering spirit, Ojeda, 
 on coming on board, had assumed the command as a matter of 
 course. Talavera, who claimed dominion over the ship, by 
 the right, no doubt, of trover and conversion, or, in other 
 words, of downright piracy, resisted this usurpation, 
 
THI1W VOYAGE OF ALONZO DE OJEDA. 63 
 
 Ojoda, as usual, would speedily have settled the question by 
 the sword, but he had the whole vagabond crew against him, 
 who overpowered him with numbers and threw him in irons. 
 Still his swelling spirit was unsubdued. He reviled Talavera 
 and his gang as recreants, traitors, pirates, and offered to 
 fight the whole of them successively, provided they would 
 give him a clear deck, and come on two at a time. Notwith 
 standing his diminutive size, they had too high an idea of his 
 prowess, and had heard t<ro much of his exploits, to accept his 
 challenge ; so they kept him raging in his chains while they 
 pursued their voyage. 
 
 They had not proceeded far, however, when a violent storm 
 arose. Talavera and his crew knew little of navigation, and 
 were totally ignorant of those seas. The raging of the ele 
 ments, the baffling winds and currents, and the danger of 
 unknown rocks and shoals filled them with confusion and 
 alarm. They knew not whither they were driving before the 
 storm, or where to seek for shelter. In this hour of peril they 
 called to mind that Ojeda was a sailor as well as soldier, and 
 that he had repeatedly navigated these seas. Making a truce, 
 therefore, for the common safety, they took off his irons, on 
 condition that he would pilot the vessel during the remainder 
 of her voyage. 
 
 Ojeda acquitted himself with his accustomed spirit and 
 intrepidity; but the vessel had been already swept so far to 
 the westward that all his skill was ineffectual in endeavouring 
 to work up to Hispaniola against storms and adverse currents. 
 Borne away by the gulf stream, and tempest-tost for many 
 days, until the shattered vessel was almost in a foundering 
 condition, he Raw no alternative but to run it on shore on the 
 southern coast of Cuba. 
 
 Here then the crew of freebooters landed from their prize in 
 more despei^ite plight than when they first took possession of 
 it. They were on a wild and unfrequented coast, their vessel 
 lay a wreck upon the sands, and their only chance was to 
 travel on foot to the eastern extremity of the island, and seek 
 some means of crossing to Hispaniola, where, after their toils, 
 they might perhaps only arrive to be thrown into a dungeon. 
 Such, however, is the yearning of civilized men after the 
 haunts of cultivated society, that they set out, at every 
 risk, upon their long and painful journey. 
 
64 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 TOILSOME MARCH OF OJEDA AND HIS COMPANIONS THROUGH THB 
 MORASSES OF CUBA. 
 
 NOTWITHSTANDING the recent services of Ojeda, the crew of 
 Talavera still regarded him with hostility; but, if they had 
 felt the value of his skill and courTTge at sea, they were no 
 less sensible of their importance on shore, and he soon ac 
 quired that ascendency over them which belongs to a master 
 spirit in time of trouble. 
 
 Cuba was as yet uncolonized. It was a place of refuge to 
 the unhappy natives of Hayti, who fled hither from the 
 whips and chains of their European task-masters. The for 
 ests abounded with these wretched fugitives, who often 
 opposed themselves to the shipwrecked party, supposing 
 them to be sent by their late masters to drag them back 
 to captivity. 
 
 Ojeda easily repulsed these attacks; but found that these 
 fugitives had likewise inspired the villagers with hostility 
 to all European strangers. Seeing that his companions 
 were too feeble and disheartened to fight their way through 
 the populous parts of the island, or to climb the rugged 
 mountains of the interior, he avoided all towns and villages, 
 and led them through the close forests and broad green 
 savannahs which extended between the mountains and the 
 sea. 
 
 He had only made choice of evils. The forests gradually 
 retired from the coast. The savannahs, where the Spaniards 
 at first had to contend merely with long rank grass and creep 
 ing vines, soon ended in salt marshes, where the oozy bottom 
 yielded no firm foot-hold, and the mud and water reached 
 to their knees. Still they pressed forward, continually hop 
 ing in a little while to arrive at a firmer soil, and flattering 
 themselves they beheld fresh meadow land before them, but 
 continually deceived. The farther they proceeded, the deeper 
 grew the mire, until, after they had been eight days on this 
 dismal journey they found themselves in the centre of a vast 
 morass where the water reached to their girdles. Though 
 thus almost drowned, they were tormented with incessant 
 thirst, for all the water around them was as briny as the 
 
THIRD VOYAGE OF ALONZO DE OJEDA. 65 
 
 ocean. They suffered too the cravings of extreme hunger, 
 having but a scanty supply of cassava bread and cheese, 
 and a few potatoes and other roots, which they devoured 
 raw. When they wished to sleep they had to climb among 
 the twisted roots of mangrove trees, which grew in clusters 
 in the waters. Still the dreary marsh widened and deepened, 
 In many places they had to cross rivers and inlets; where 
 some, who could not swim, were drowned, and others were 
 smothered in the mire. 
 
 Their situation became wild and desperate. Their cassava 
 bread was spoiled by the water, and their stock of roots 
 nearly exhausted. The interminable morass still extended 
 before them, while, to return, after the distance they had 
 come, was hopeless. Ojeda alone kept up a resolute spirit, 
 and cheered and urged them forward. He had the little 
 Flemish painting of the Madonna, which had been given 
 him by the Bishop Fonseca, carefully stored among the pro 
 visions in his knapsack. Whenever he stopped to repose 
 among the roots of the mangrove trees, he took out this 
 picture, placed it among the branches, and kneeling, prayed 
 devoutly to the Virgin for protection. This he did repeatedly 
 in the course of the day, and prevailed upon his companions to 
 follow his example. Nay, more, at a moment of great de 
 spondency he made a solemn vow to his patroness, that if she 
 conducted him alive through this peril, he would erect a chapel 
 in the first Indian village he should arrive at ; and leave her 
 picture there to remain an object of adoration to the Gentiles.* 
 
 This frightful morass extended for the distance of thirty 
 leagues, and was so deep and difficult, so entangled by roots 
 and creeping vines, so cut up by creeks and rivers, and so 
 beset by quagmires, that they were thirty days in traversing 
 it. Out of the number of seventy men that set out from the 
 ship but thirty -five remained. Certain it is, " observes the 
 venerable Las Casas, "the sufferings of the Spaniards in the 
 New World, in search of wealth, have been more cruel and 
 severe than ever nation in the world endured ; but those expe 
 rienced by Ojeda and his men have surpassed all others." 
 
 They were at length so overcome by hunger and fatigue, 
 that some lay down and yielded up the ghost, and others seat 
 ing themselves among the mangrove trees, waited in despair 
 for death to put an end to their miseries. Ojeda, with a few of 
 
 * Las Casas, Hist. Ind. 1. ii. c 60, MS. 
 
66 SPANISH V07AOK8 OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 the lightest and most vigorous, continued to struggle forward, 
 and, to their unutterable joy, at length arrived to where the 
 land was firm and dry. They soon descried a foot-path, and, 
 following it, arrived at an Indian village, commanded by a 
 cacique called Cueybas. No sooner did they reach the village 
 than they sank to the earth exhausted. 
 
 The Indians gathered round and gazed at them with wonder ; 
 but when they learnt their story, they exhibited a humanity 
 that would have done honour to the most professing Chris 
 tians. They bore them to their dwellings, set meat and drink 
 before them, and vied with each other in discharging the 
 offices of the kindest humanity. Finding that a number of 
 their companions were still in the morass, the cacique sent a 
 large party of Indians with provisions for their relief, with 
 orders to bring on their shoulders such as were too feeble to 
 walk. " The Indians," says the Bishop Las Casas, "did more 
 than they were ordered ; for so they always do, when they are 
 not exasperated by ill treatment. The Spaniards were brought 
 to the village, succoured, cherished, consoled, and almost wor 
 shipped as if they had been angels." 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 OJEDA PERFORMS HIS VOW TO THE VIRGIN. 
 
 BEING recovered from his sufferings, Alonzo de Ojeda pre 
 pared to perform his vow concerning the picture of the Virgin, 
 though sorely must it have grieved him to part with a relique 
 to which he attributed his deliverance from so many perils. 
 He built a little hermitage or oratory in the village, and fur 
 nished it with an altar, above which he placed the picture. He 
 then summoned the benevolent cacique, and explained to him 
 as well as his limited knowledge of the language, or the aid of 
 interpreters would permit, the main points of the Catholic 
 faith, and especially the history of the Virgin, whom he repre 
 sented as the mother of the Deity that reigned in the skies, and 
 the great advocate for mortal man. 
 
 The worthy cacique listened to him with mute attention, and 
 though he might not clearly comprehend the doctrine, yet he 
 conceived a profound veneration for the picture. The senti 
 ment was shared by his subjects. They kept the little oratory 
 
THIRD VOYAGE OF ALONZO DE OJEDA. 67 
 
 always swept clean, and decorated it with cotton hangings, 
 laboured by their own hands, and with various votive offer 
 ings. They composed couplets or areytos in honour of the Vir 
 gin, which they sang to the accompaniment of rude musical 
 instruments, dancing to the sound under the groves which 
 surrounded the hermitage. 
 
 A further anecdote concerning this relique may not be unac 
 ceptable. The venerable Las Casas, who records these facts, 
 informs us that he arrived at the village of Cueybas sometime 
 after the departure of Ojeda. He found the oratory preserved 
 with the most religious care, as a sacred place, and the picture 
 of the Virgin regarded with fond adoration. The poor Indians 
 crowded to attend mass, which he performed at the altar ; they 
 listened attentively to his paternal instructions, and at his 
 request brought their children to be baptized. The good Las 
 Casas, having heard much of il.is famous relique of Ojeda, was 
 desirous of obtaining possession of it, and offered to give the 
 cacique in exchange an image of the Virgin which he had 
 brought with him. The chieftain made an evasive answer, 
 and seemed much troubled in mind. The next morning he did 
 not make his appearance. 
 
 Las Casas went to the oratory to perform mass, but found 
 the altar stripped of its precious relique. On inquiring, he 
 learnt that in the night the cacique had fled to the woods, 
 bearing off with him his beloved picture of the Virgin. It was 
 in vain that Las Casas sent messengers after him, assuring him 
 that he should not be deprived of the relique, but on the con 
 trary, that the image should likewise be presented to him. 
 The cacique refused to venture from the fastnesses of the for 
 est, nor did he return to his village and replace the picture in 
 the oratory until after the departure of the Spaniards.* 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ARRIVAL OF OJEDA AT JAMAICA HIS RECEPTION BY JUAN DE 
 
 ESQUIBEL. 
 
 WHEN the Spaniards were completely restored to health and 
 strength, they resumed their journey. The cacique sent a 
 large body of his subject* to carry their provisions and knap- 
 
 * Las Casas, Hist. Ind., c. 01, MS.-Herrera, Hist. lud, d. i, 1, ix, c. xv. 
 
68 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 sacks, and to guide them across a desert tract of country to the 
 province of Macaca, where Christopher Columbus had been 
 hospitably entertained on his voyage along this coast. They 
 experienced equal kindness from its cacique and his people, for 
 such seems to have been almost invariably the case with the 
 natives of these islands, before they had held much inter 
 course with the Europeans. 
 
 The province of Macaca was situated at Cape de la Cruz, the 
 nearest point to the island of Jamaica. HereOjeda learnt that 
 there were Spaniards settled on that island, being in fact the 
 party commanded by the very Juan de Esquibel whose head he 
 had threatened to strike off, when departing in swelling style 
 from San Domingo. It seemed to be the fortune of Ojeda to 
 have his bravadoes visited on his head in times of trouble and 
 humiliation. He found himself compelled to apply for succour 
 to the very man he had so vain-gloriously menaced. This was 
 no time, however, to stand on points of pride ; he procured a 
 canoe and Indians from the cacique of Macaca, and one Pedro 
 de Ordas undertook the perilous voyage of twenty leagues in 
 the frail bark, and arrived safe at Jamaica. 
 
 No sooner did Esquibel receive the message of Ojeda, than, 
 forgetting past menaces, he instantly despatched a caravel to 
 bring to him the unfortunate discoverer and his companions. 
 He received him with .the utmost kindness, lodged him in his 
 own house, and treated him in all things with the most delicate 
 attention. He was a gentleman who had seen prosperous days, 
 but had fallen into adversity and been buffeted about the 
 world, and had learnt how to respect the feelings of a proud 
 spirit in distress. Ojeda had the warm, touchy heart to feel 
 such conduct; he remained several days with Esquibel in 
 frank communion, and when he sailed for San Domingo they 
 parted the best of friends. 
 
 And here we cannot but remark the singular difference in 
 character and conduct of these Spanish adventurers when deal 
 ing with each other, or with the unhappy natives. Nothing 
 could be more chivalrous, urbane, and charitable; nothing 
 more pregnant with noble sacrifices of passion and interest, 
 with magnanimous instances of forgiveness of injuries and 
 noble contests of generosity, than the transactions of the dis 
 coverers with each other ; but the moment they turned to treat 
 with the Indians, even with brave and high-minded caciques, 
 they were vindictive, blood-thirsty, and implacable. The very 
 e Isquibel, who could requite the recent kostilitv of 
 
THIRD VOYAGE OF ALOZZO DE OJliDA. (J9 
 
 Ojeda with such humanity and friendship, was the same who, 
 under the government of Ovando, laid desolate the province of 
 Higuey in Hispaniola, and inflicted atrocious cruelties upon 
 its inhabitants. 
 
 When Alonzo de Ojeda set sail for San Domingo, Bernardino 
 do Talavera and liis rabble adherents remained at Jamaica. 
 They feared to be brought to account for their piratical exploit 
 in stealing the Genoese vessel, and that in consequence of their 
 recent violence to Ojeda, they would find in him an accuser 
 rather than an advocate. The latter, however, in the opinion 
 of Las Casas. who knew him well, was not a man to make ac 
 cusations. With all his faults he did not harbour malice. He 
 was quick and fiery, it is true, and his sword was too apt to 
 leap from its scabbard on the least provocation ; but after the 
 first flash all was over, and, if he cooled upon an injury, he 
 never sought for vengeance. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 ARRIVAL OF ALONZO DE OJEDA AT SAN DOMINGO CONCLUSION 
 OF HIS STORY. 
 
 ON arriving at San Domingo the first inquiry of Alonzo de 
 Ojeda was after the Bachelor Enciso. HeAvas told that he had 
 departed long before, with abundant supplies for the colony, 
 and that nothing had been heard of him since his departure. 
 Ojeda waited for a time, in hopes of hearing, by some return 
 ship, of the safe arrival of the Bachelor at San Sebastian. No 
 tidings, however, arrived, and he began to fear that he had 
 been lost in those storms which had beset himself on his return 
 voyage. 
 
 Anxious for the relief of his settlement, and fearing that, by 
 delay, his whole scheme of colonization would be defeated, he 
 now endeavoured to set on foot another armament, and to en 
 list a new set of adventurers. His efforts, however, were all 
 ineffectual. The disasters of his colony were known, and his 
 own circumstances were considered desperate. He was doomed 
 to experience the fate that too often attends sanguine and bril- 
 jiant projectors. Tjhe world is dazzled by them for a time, and 
 thmn as heroes while successful ; but misfortune dissipates 
 
70 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 the charm, and they become stigmatized with the appellation 
 of adventurers. When Ojeda figured in San Domingo as the 
 conqueror of Coanabo, as the commander of a squadron, as the 
 governor of a province, his prowess and exploits were the 
 theme of every tongue. When he set sail, in vaunting style, 
 for his seat of government, setting the viceroy at defiance, 
 and threatening the life of Esquibel, every one thought that 
 fortune was at his beck, and he was about to accomplish won 
 ders. A few months had elapsed, and he walked the streets of 
 San Domingo a needy man, shipwrecked in hope and fortune. 
 His former friends, dreading some new demand upon their 
 purses, looked coldly on him; his schemes, once so extolled, 
 were now pronounced wild and chimerical, and lie was sub 
 jected to all kinds of slights and humiliations in the very place 
 which had been the scene of his greatest vain-glory. 
 
 While Ojeda was thus lingering at San Domingo, the Admi 
 ral, Don Diego Columbus, sent a party of soldiers to Jamaica 
 to arrest Talavera and his pirate crew. They were brought in 
 chains to San Domingo, thrown into dungeons, and tried tor 
 the robbery of the Genoese vessel. Their crime was too notori 
 ous to admit of doubt, and being convicted, Talavera and sev 
 eral of his principal accomplices were hanged. Such was the 
 end of their frightful journey by sea and land. Never had 
 vagabonds travelled farther or toiled harder to arrive at a gal 
 lows! 
 
 In the course of the trial Ojeda had naturally been summoned 
 as a witness, and his testimony must have tended greatly to 
 the conviction of the culprits. This drew upon him the ven 
 geance of the surviving comrades of Talavera, who still lurked 
 about San Domingo. As he was returning home one night at 
 a late hour he was waylaid and set upon by a number of these 
 miscreants. He displayed his usual spirit. Setting his back 
 against a wall, and drawing his sword, he defended himself ad 
 mirably against the whole gang ; nor was he content with beat 
 ing them off, but pursued them for some distance through the 
 streets ; and having thus put them to utter rout, returned tran 
 quil and unharmed to his lodgings. 
 
 This is the last achievement recorded of the gallant, but reck 
 less, Ojeda; for here his bustling career terminated, and he 
 sank into the obscurity that gathers round a ruined man. His 
 health was broken by the various hardships he had sustained, 
 and by the lurking effects of the wound received at San Sebas 
 tian, which had been but imperfectly cured. Poverty and ne- 
 
THIRD VOYAGE OF ALONZO DE OJEtiA. 71 
 
 gleet, and the corroding sickness of the heart, contributed, no 
 less than the maladies of the body, to quench that sanguine 
 and fiery temper, which had hitherto been the secret of his 
 success, and to render him the mere wreck of his former self ; 
 for there is no ruin so hopeless and complete as that of a tower 
 ing spirit humiliated and broken down. He appears to have 
 lingered some time at San Domingo. Gomara, in his history 
 of the Indies, affirms that he turned monk, and entered in the 
 convent at San Francisco, where he died. Such a change 
 would not have been surprising in a man who, in his wildest 
 career, mingled the bigot with the soldier; nor was it unusual 
 with military adventurers in those days, after passing their 
 youtli in the bustle and licentiousness of the camp, to end their 
 days in the quiet and mortification of the cloister. Las Oasas, 
 however, who was at San Domingo at the time, makes no men 
 tion of the fact, as he certainly would have done had it taken 
 place. He confirms, however, all that has been said of the 
 striking reverse in his character and circumstances; and he 
 adds an affecting picture of his last moments, which may serve 
 as a wholesome comment on his life. He died so poor, that he 
 did not leave money enough to provide for his interment ; and 
 so broken in spirit, that, with his last breath, he entreated his 
 body might be buried in the monastery of San Francisco, just 
 at the portal, in humble expiation of his past pride, " that every 
 one icho entered might tread upon his grave. " * 
 
 Such was the fate of Alonzo de Ojeda, and who does not 
 forget his errors and his faults at the threshold of his humble 
 and untimely grave! He was one of the most fearless and 
 aspiring of that band of "Ocean chivalry" that followed the 
 footsteps of Columbus. His story presents a lively picture of 
 the daring enterprises, the extravagant exploits, the thousand 
 accidents, by flood and field, that chequered the life of a 
 Spanish cavalier in that roving and romantic age. 
 
 "Never," says Charlevoix, "was man more suited for a 
 coup-de-main, or to achieve and suffer great things under the 
 direction of another : none had a heart more lofty, or ambition 
 more aspiring ; none ever took less heed of fortune, or showed 
 greater firmness of soul, or found more resources in his own 
 courage; but none was less calculated to be commander-in- 
 chief of a great enterprise. Good management and good for 
 tune for ever failed him. "f 
 
 
 
 * Las Casas, ubi sup. t Charlevoix, Hist. S. Doming. 
 
72 SPANISH VOYAGES OF 1 DISCOVERY. 
 
 THE VOYAGE OF DIEGO DE NICUESA. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 NICUESA SAILS TO THE WESTWARD HIS SHIPWRECK AND SUB- 
 SEQUENT DISASTERS. 
 
 WE have now to recount the fortunes experienced by the 
 gallant and generous Diego de Nicuesa, after his parting from 
 Alonzo de Ojeda at Carthagena. On resuming his voyage h 
 embarked in a caravel, that he might be able to coast the land 
 and reconnoitre ; he ordered that the two brigantines, one of 
 which was commanded by his lieutenant, Lope de Olano, 
 should keep near to him, while the large vessels, which drew 
 more water, should stand further out to sea. The squadron 
 arrived upon the coast of Veragua, in stormy weather, and, as 
 Nicuesa could not find any safe harbour, and was apprehensive 
 of rocks and shoals, he stood out to sea at the approach of 
 night, supposing that Lope de Olano would follow him with 
 the brigantines according to his orders. The night was bois 
 terous, the caravel was much tossed and driven about, and 
 when the morning dawned, not one of the squadron was in 
 sight. 
 
 Nicuesa feared some accident had befallen the brigantines ; 
 he stood for the land and coasted along it in search of them 
 until he came to a large river, into which he entered and came 
 to anchor. He had not been here long when the stream sud 
 denly subsided, having merely been swoln by the rains. 
 Before he had time to extricate himself the caravel grounded, 
 and at length fell over on one side. The current rushing like 
 a torrent strained the feeble bark to such a degree, that her 
 seams yawned, and she appeared ready to go to pieces. In 
 this moment of peril a hardy seamen threw himself into the 
 water to carry the end of a rope on shore as a means of saving 
 the crew. He was swept away by the furious current and 
 perished in sight of his companions. Undismayed by his fata> 
 
THE VOYAGE OF DIKGO DE NIC VESA. 73 
 
 another brave seaman plunged into the waves and succeeded 
 in reaching the shore. He then fastened one end of a rope 
 firmly to a tree, and, the other being secured on board of the 
 caravel, Nicuesa and his crew passed one by one along it, and 
 reached the shore in safety. 
 
 Scarcely had they landed when the caravel went to pieces, 
 and with it perished their provisions, clothing; and all other 
 necessaries. Nothing remained to them but the boat of the 
 caravel, which was accidentally cast on shore. Here then they 
 were, in helpless plight, on a remote and savage coast, without 
 food, without arms, and almost naked. What had become of 
 the rest of the squadron they knew not. Some feared that 
 the brigantines had been wrecked ; others called to mind that 
 Lope de Olano had been one of the loose lawless men confeder 
 ated with Francisco Eoldan in his rebellion against Columbus, 
 and, judging him from the school in which he had served, 
 hinted their apprehensions that he had deserted with the brig 
 antines. Nicuesa partook of their suspicions, and was anxious 
 and sad at heart. He concealed his uneasiness, however, and 
 endeavoured to cheer up his companions, proposing that they 
 should proceed westward on foot in search of Veragua, the seat 
 of his intended government, observing, that if the ships had 
 survived the tempest, they would probably repair to that 
 place. They accordingly set off along the sea shore, for the 
 thickness of the forest prevented their traversing the interior. 
 Four of the hardiest sailors put to sea in the boat, and kept 
 abreast of them, to help them across the bays and rivers. 
 
 Their sufferings were extreme. Most of them were destitute 
 of shoes, and many almost naked. They had to clamber over 
 sharp and rugged rocks, and to struggle through dense forests 
 beset with thorns and brambles. Often they had to wade 
 across rank fens and morasses and drowned lands, or to trav 
 erse deep and rapid streams. 
 
 Their food consisted of herbs and roots and shellfish gath 
 ered along the shore. Had they even met with Indians they 
 would have dreaded, in their unarmed state, to apply to them 
 for provisions, lest they should take revenge for the outrages 
 committed along this coast by other Europeans. 
 
 To render their sufferings more intolerable, they were in 
 doubt whether, in the storms which preceded their shipwreck, 
 they had not been driven past Veragua, in which case each 
 step would take them so much the farther from their desired 
 haven. 
 
74 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 Still they laboured feebly forward, encouraged by the words 
 and the example of Nicuesa, who cheerfully partook of the 
 toils and hardships of the meanest of his men. 
 
 They had slept one night at the foot of impending rocks, and 
 were about to resume their weary march in the morning, 
 when they were espied by some Indians from a neighbouring 
 height. Among the followers of Nicuesa was a favourite page, 
 whose tattered finery and white hat caught the quick eyes of 
 the savages. One of them immediately singled him out, and 
 taking a deadly aim, let fly an arrow that laid him expiring at 
 the feet of his master. While the generous cavalier mourned 
 over his slaughtered page, consternation prevailed among his 
 companions, each fearing for his own life. The Indians, how 
 ever, did not follow up this casual act of hostility, but suffered 
 the Spaniards to pursue their painful journey unmolested. 
 
 Arriving one day at the point of a great bay that ran far 
 inland, they were conveyed, a few at a time, in the boat to 
 wha.t appeared to be the opposite point. Being all landed, and 
 resuming their march, they found to their surprise that they 
 were on an island, separated from the main land by a great 
 arm of the sea. The sailors who managed the boat were too 
 weary to take them to the opposite shore; they remained 
 therefore all night upon the island. 
 
 In the morning they prepared to depart, but, to their con 
 sternation, the boat with the four mariners had disappeared. 
 They ran anxiously from point to point, uttering shouts and 
 cries, in hopes the boat might be in some inlet; they clam 
 bered the rocks and strained their eyes over the sea. It was 
 all in vain. No boat was to be seen ; no voice responded to 
 their call ; it was too evident the four mariners had either per 
 ished or had deserted them. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 NICUESA AND HIS MEN ON A DESOLATE ISLAND. 
 
 THE situation of Nicuesa and his men was dreary and des 
 perate in the extreme. They were on a desolate island border 
 ing upon a swampy coast, in a remote and lonely sea, where 
 commerce never spread a sail. Their companions in the other 
 ships, if still alive and true to them, had doubtless given them 
 
THE VOYAGE OF DIEGO DE NICUESA. 75 
 
 up for lost ; and many years might elapse before the casual 
 bark of a discoverer might venture along these shores. Long 
 before that time their fate would be sealed, and their bones 
 bleaching on the sands would alone tell their story. 
 
 In this hopeless state many abandoned themselves to frantic 
 grief, wandering about the island, wringing their hands and 
 uttering groans and lamentations ; others called upon God for 
 succour, and many sat down in silent and sullen despair. 
 
 The cravings of hunger and thirst at length roused them to 
 exertion. They found no food but a few shell-fish scattered 
 along the shore, and coarse herbs and roots, some of them of 
 an unwholesome quality. The island had neither springs nor 
 streams of fresh water, and they were fain to slake their thirst 
 at the brackish pools of the marshes. 
 
 Nicuesa endeavoured to animate his men with new hopes. 
 He employed them in constructing a raft of drift-wood and 
 branches of trees, for the purpose of crossing the arm of the 
 sea that separated them from the main land. It was a difficult 
 task, for they were destitute of tools, and when the raft was 
 finished they had no oars with which to manage it. Some of 
 the most expert swimmers undertook to propel it, but they 
 were too much enfeebled by their sufferings. On their first 
 essay the currents which sweep that coast bore the raft out to 
 sea, and they swam back with difficulty to the island. Having 
 no other chance of escape, and no other means of exercising 
 and keeping up the spirits of his followers, Nicuesa repeatedly 
 ordered new rafts to be constructed, but the result was always 
 the same, and the men at length either grew too feeble to work 
 or renounced the attempt in despair. 
 
 Thus, day after day and week after week elapsed without 
 any mitigation of suffering or any prospect of relief. Every 
 day some one or other sank under his miseries, a victim not so 
 much to hunger and thirst as to grief and despondency. His 
 death was envied by his wretched survivors, many of whom 
 were reduced to such debility that they had to crawl on hands 
 and knees in search of the herbs and shell-fish which formed 
 their scanty food. 
 
76 tiP^MSH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ARRIVAL OF A BOAT CONDUCT OF LOPE DE OLANO. 
 
 WHEN the unfortunate Spaniards, without hope of succour, 
 began to consider death as a desirable end to their miseries, 
 they were roused to new life one day by beholding a sail gleam 
 ing on the horizon. Their exultation was checked, however, 
 by the reflection how many chances there were against its 
 approaching this wild and desolate island. Watching it with 
 anxious eyes they put up prayers to God to conduct it to their 
 relief, and at length, to their great joy, they perceived that it 
 was steering directly for the island. On a nearer approach it 
 proved to be one of the brigantines that had been commanded 
 by Lope de Olano. It came to anchor : a boat put off, and 
 among the crew were the four sailors who had disappeared so 
 mysteriously from the island. 
 
 These men accounted in a satisfactory manner for their de 
 sertion. They had been persuaded that the ships were in some 
 harbour to the eastward, and that they were daily leaving them 
 farther behind. Disheartened at the constant, and, in their 
 opinion, fruitless toil which fell to their share in the struggle 
 westward, they resolved to take their own counsel, without 
 risking the opposition of Nicuesa. In the dead of the night, 
 therefore, when their companions on the island were asleep, 
 they had silently cast off their boat, and retraced their course 
 along the coast. After several days toil they found the brig 
 antines under the command of Lope de Olano, in the river of 
 Belen, the scene of the disasters of Columbus in his fourth 
 voyage. 
 
 The conduct of Lope de Olano was regarded with suspicion 
 by his contemporaries, and is still subject to doubt. He is 
 supposed to have deserted Nicuesa designedly, intending to 
 usurp the command of the expedition, lien, however, were 
 prone to judge harshly of him from his having been concerned 
 in the treason and rebellion of Francisco Boldan. On the 
 stormy night when Nicuesa stood out to sea to avoid the dan 
 gers of the shore, Olano took shelter under the lee of an island. 
 Seeing nothing of the caravel of his commander in the morn 
 ing, he made no effort to seek for it, but proceeded with the 
 tg fo$ p> e r Ckares, where lie found the g 
 
THE VOYAGE OF DIEGO DE NICUESA. 77 
 
 anchor. They had landed all their cargo, being almost in a 
 sinking condition from the ravages of the worms. Olano per 
 suaded the crews that Nicuesa had perished in the late storm, 
 and, being his lieutenant, he assumed the command. Whether 
 he had been perfidious or not in his motives, his command was 
 but a succession of disasters. He sailed from Chagres for the 
 river of. Belen, where the ships were found so damaged that 
 they had to be broken to pieces. Most of the people construct 
 ed wretched cabins on the shore, where, during a sudden 
 storm, they were almost washed away by the swelling of the 
 river, or swallowed up in the shifting sands. Several of his 
 men were drowned in an expedition in quest of gold, and he 
 himself merely escaped by superior swimming. Their provi 
 sions were exhausted, they suffered from hunger and from va 
 rious maladies, and many perished in extreme misery. All 
 were clamorous to abandon the coast, and Olano set about con 
 structing a caravel, out of the wreck of the ships, for the pur 
 pose, as he said, of returning to Hispaniola, though many 
 suspected it was still his intention to persist in the enterprise. 
 Such was the state in which the four seamen had found Olano 
 and his party ; most of them living in miserable cabins and 
 destitute of the necessaries of life. 
 
 The tidings that Nicuesa was still alive put an end to the 
 sway of Olano. Whether he had acted with truth or perfidy, 
 he now manifested a zeal to relieve his commander, and imme 
 diately despatched a brigantine in quest of him, which, guided 
 by the four seamen, arrived at the island in the way that hcu 
 been mentioned. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 NICUESA REJOINS HIS CREWS. 
 
 WHEN the crew of the brigantine and the companions of 
 Nicuesa met, they embraced each other with tears, for the 
 hearts, even of the rough mariners, were subdued by the sor 
 rows they had undergone ; and men are rendered kind to each 
 other by a community of suffering. The briganfcine had 
 brought a quantity of palm nuts, and of such other articles of 
 food as they had been able to procure along the coast. These 
 the famished Spaniards devoured with such voracity that 
 Nicuesa was obliged to interfere, l^f- t>irv hould injure them- 
 
78 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 selves. Nor was the supply of fresh water less grateful to 
 their parched and fevered palates. 
 
 When sufficiently revived, they all abandoned the desolate 
 island, and set sail for the river Belen, exulting as joyfully as 
 if their troubles were at an end, and they were bound to a 
 haven of delight, instead of merely changing the scene of 
 suffering and encountering a new variety of horrors. 
 
 In the mean time Lope de Olano had been diligently prepar 
 ing for the approaching interview with his commander, by 
 persuading his fellow officers to intercede in his behalf, and to 
 place his late conduct in the most favourable light. He had 
 need of their intercessions. Nicuesa arrived, burning with 
 indignation. He ordered him to be instantly seized and pun 
 ished as a traitor ; attributing to his desertion the ruin of the 
 enterprise and the sufferings and death of so many of his brave 
 followers. The fellow captains of Olano spoke in his favour ; 
 but Nicuesa turned indignantly upon them: "You do well," 
 cried he, to supplicate mercy for him ; you, who, yourselves, 
 have need of pardon! You have participated in his crime; 
 why else have you suffered so long a time to elapse without 
 compelling him to send one of the vessels in search of me?" 
 
 The captains now vindicated themselves by assurances of 
 their belief in his having foundered at sea. They reiterated 
 their supplications for mercy to Olano; drawing the most 
 affecting pictures of their past and present sufferings, and 
 urging the impolicy of increasing the horrors of their situation 
 by acts of severity. Nicuesa at length was prevailed upon to 
 spare his victim; resolving to send him, by the first opportun 
 ity, a prisoner to Spain. It appeared, in truth, no time to add 
 to the daily blows of fate that were thinning the number of 
 his followers. Of the gallant armament of seven hundred 
 resolute and effective men that had sailed with him from 
 San Domingo, four hundred had already perished by various 
 miseries ; and of the survivors, many could scarcely be said to 
 live. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 SUFFERINGS OF NICUESA AND HIS MEN ON THE COAST OF THE 
 
 ISTHMUS. 
 
 THE first care of Nicuesa, on resuming the general command, 
 was to take moa cures for the relief of his people, w 1 ^ w 
 
THE VOYAGE OF DIEGO DE NICUE8A. 79 
 
 perishing with famine and disease. All those who were in 
 health, or who had strength cufficient to bear the least fatigue, 
 were sent on foraging parties among the fields and villages of 
 the natives. It was a service of extreme peril ; for the Indians 
 cf this part of the coast were fierce and warlike, and were the 
 same who had proved so formidable to Columbus and his 
 brother when -they attempted to found a settlement in this 
 neighbourhood. 
 
 Many of the Spaniards were slain in these expeditions. Even 
 if they succeeded in collecting provisions, the toil of bringing 
 them to the harbour was worse to men in their enfeebled con 
 dition than the task of fighting for them ; for they were obliged 
 to transport them on their backs, and, thus heavily laden, to 
 scramble over rugged rocks, through almost impervious 
 forests, and across dismal swamps. 
 
 Harassed by these perils and fatigues, they broke forth into 
 murmurs against their commander, accusing him, not merely 
 of indifference to their sufferings, but of wantonly imposing 
 severe and unnecessary tasks upon them out of revenge for 
 their having neglected him. 
 
 The genial temper of Nicuesa had, in fact, been soured by 
 disappointment; and a series of harassing cares and evils had 
 rendered him irritable and impatient ; but he was a cavalier of 
 a generous and honourable nature, and does not appear to have 
 enforced any services that were not indispensable to the com 
 mon safety. In fact, the famine had increased to such a 
 degree, that, we are told, thirty Spaniards, having on one 
 occasion found the dead body of an Indian in a state of decay, 
 they were driven by hunger to make a meal of it, and were so 
 infected by the horrible repast, that not one of them survived.* 
 
 Disheartened by these miseries, Nicuesa determined to aban 
 don a place which seemed destined to be the grave of Span 
 iards. Embarking the greater part of his men in the two 
 brigantines and the -caravel which had been built by Olano, he 
 set sail eastward in search of some more favourable situation 
 for his settlement. A number of the men remained behind to 
 await the ripening of some maize and vegetables which they 
 had sown. These he left under the command of Alonzo Nunez, 
 whom he nominated his Alcalde Mayor. 
 
 When Nicuesa had coasted about four leagues to the east, a 
 Genoese sailor, who had been with Columbus in his last voy- 
 
 * Herrera, Hist, lud. p. i. and viii, c. 2, 
 
80 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 age, informed him that there was a fine harbour somewhere 
 in that neighbourhood, which had pleased the old admiral so 
 highly that he had given it the name of Puerto Bello. He 
 added that they might know the harbour by an anchor, hall 
 buried in the sand, which Columbus had left there; near to 
 which was a fountain of remarkably cool and sweet water 
 springing up at the foot of a large tree. Nicuesa ordered 
 search to be made along the coast, and at length they found 
 the anchor, the fountain, and the tree. It was the same har 
 bour which bears the name of Portobello at the present day. 
 A number of the crew were sent on shore in search of provi 
 sions, but were assailed by the Indians ; and, being too weak 
 to wield their weapons with their usual prowess, were driven 
 back to the vessels with the loss of several slain or wounded. 
 
 Dejected at these continual misfortunes, Nicuesa continued 
 his voyage seven leagues farther, until he came to the harbour 
 to which Columbus had given the name of Puerto de Bastimi- 
 entos, or Port of Provisions. It presented an advantageous 
 situation for a fortress, and was surrounded by a fruitful coun 
 try. Nicuesa resolved to make it his abiding place. l Here, " 
 said he, let us stop, en el nombre de Dios /" (in the name of 
 God.) His followers, with the superstitious feeling with 
 which men in adversity are prone to interpret every thing 
 into omens, persuaded themselves that there was favourable 
 augury in his words, and called the harbour "Nombre de 
 Dios," which name it afterwards retained. 
 
 Nicuesa now landed, and, drawing his sword, took solemn 
 possession in the name of the Catholic sovereigns. He im 
 mediately began to erect a fortress to protect his people 
 against the attacks of the savages. As this was a case of exi 
 gency, he exacted the labour of every one capable of exertion. 
 The Spaniards, thus equally distressed by famine and toil, for 
 got their favourable omen, cursed the place as fated to be their 
 grave, and called down imprecations on the head of their com 
 mander, who compelled them to labour when ready to sink 
 with hunger and debility. Those murmured no less who were 
 sent in quest of food, which was only to be gained by fatigue 
 and bloodshed; for, whatever they collected, they had to 
 transport from great distances, and they were frequently 
 waylaid and assaulted by the Indians. 
 
 When he could spare men for the purpose, Nicuesa de 
 spatched the caravel for those whom he had left at the river 
 Belen. Many of them had perished, and the survivors had 
 
THE VOYAGE OF DIEGO DE NICUESA. gl 
 
 been reduced to such famine at times as to eat all kinds of 
 reptiles, until a part of an alligator was a banquet to them. 
 On mustering all his forces when thus united, Nicuesa found 
 that but one hundred emaciated and dejected wretches re 
 mained. 
 
 He despatched the caravel to Hispaniola, to bring a quan 
 tity of bacon which he had ordered to have prepared there, 
 but it never returned. He ordered Gonzalo de Badajos, at the, 
 head of twenty men, to scour the country for provisions ; but 
 the Indians had ceased to cultivate ; they could do with little 
 food, and could subsist on the roots and wild fruits of the forest. 
 The Spaniards, therefore, found deserted villages and barren 
 fields, but lurking enemies at every defile. So deplorably 
 were they reduced by their sufferings, that at length there 
 were not left a sufficient number in health and strength to 
 mount guard at night; and the fortress remained without 
 sentinels. Such was the desperate situation of this once gay 
 and gallant cavalier, and of his brilliant armament, which but 
 .a few months before had sallied from San Domingo, flushed 
 with the consciousness of power and the assurance that they 
 had the means of compelling the favours of fortune. 
 
 It is necessary to leave them for a while, and turn our atten 
 tion to other events which will ultimately be found to bear 
 upon their destinies. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 EXPEDITION OF THE BACHELOR ENCISO IN SEARCH OB 1 THE SEAT 
 OF GOVERNMENT OF OJEDA. (1510.) 
 
 IN calling to mind the narrative of the last expedition of 
 Alonzo de Ojeda, the reader will doubtless remember the 
 Bachelor Martin Fernandez de Enciso, who was inspired by 
 that adventurous cavalier with an ill-starred passion for 
 colonizing, and freighted a vessel at San Domingo with rein 
 forcements and supplies for the settlement at San Sebastian. 
 
 When the Bachelor was on the eve of sailing, a number of 
 the loose hangers-on of the colony, and men encumbered with 
 debt, concerted to join his ship from the coast and the out- 
 ports. Their creditors, however, getting notice of their inten 
 tion, kept a close watch upon every one that went on board 
 
82 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 while in the harbour, and obtained an armed vessel from the 
 Admiral Don Diego Columbus, to escort the enterprising Bach 
 elor clear of the island. One man, however, contrived to 
 elude these precautions, and as he afterwards rose to great 
 importance, it is proper to notice him particularly. His name 
 was Vasco Nuiiez de Balboa. He was a native of Xeres de los 
 Caballeros, and of a noble though impoverished family. He 
 had been brought up in the service of Don Puerto Carrero, 
 Lord of Moguer, and he afterwards enlisted among the adven 
 turers who accompanied Rodrigo de Bastides in his voyage of 
 discovery. Peter Martyr, in his Latin decades, speaks of Mm 
 by the appellation of "egregius digladiator, " which has been 
 interpreted by some as a skilful swordsman, by others as an 
 adroit fencing master. He intimates, also, that he was a mere 
 soldier of fortune, of loose prodigal habits, and the circum 
 stances under which he is first introduced to us justify this 
 character. He had fixed himself for a time in Hispaniola, and 
 undertaken to cultivate a farm at the town of Salvatierra, on 
 the sea coast, but in a little time had completely involved him 
 self in debt. The expedition of Enciso presented him with an 
 opportunity of escaping from his embarrassments, and of in 
 dulging his adventurous habits. To elude the vigilance of his 
 creditors and of the armed escort, he concealed himself in a 
 cask, which was conveyed from Ms farm on the sea coast on 
 board of the vessel, as if containing provisions for the voyage. 
 When the vessel was fairly out at sea, and abandoned by the 
 escort, Vasco Nunez emerged like an apparition from his cask, 
 to the great surprise of Enciso, who had been totally ignorant 
 of the stratagem. The Bachelor was indignant at being thus 
 outwitted, even though he gained a recruit by the deception ; 
 and in the first ebullition of his wrath gave the fugitive debtor 
 a very rough reception, threatening to put him on shore on 
 the first uninhabited island they should encounter. Vasco 
 Nuiiez, however, succeeded in pacifying Mm, "for God," says 
 the venerable Las Casas, reserved him for greater things. " It 
 is probable the Bachelor beheld in him a man well fitted for 
 his expedition, for Vasco Nuiiez was in the prime and vigour 
 of his days, tall and muscular, seasoned to hardsMps, and of 
 intrepid spirit. 
 
 Arriving at the mam land, they touched at the fatal harbour 
 of Carthagena, the scene of the sanguinary conflicts of Ojeda 
 and Nicuesa with the natives, and of the death of the brave Juan 
 de la Gosa. Enciso was ignorant of those events, having had 
 
THE VOYAGE OF DIEGO DE NICUESA. 83 
 
 no tidings from those adventurers since their departure from 
 San Domingo ; without any hesitation, therefore, he landed a 
 number of his men to repair his boat, which was damaged, 
 and to procure water. While the men were working upon the 
 boat, a multitude of Indians gathered at a distance, well 
 armed, and with menacing aspect, sounding their shells and 
 brandishing their weapons. The experience they had had of 
 the tremendous powers of the strangers, however, rendered 
 them cautious of attacking, and for three days they hovered 
 in this manner about the Spaniards, the latter being obliged to 
 keep continually on the alert. At length two of the Spaniards 
 ventured one day from the main body to fill a water cask from 
 the adjacent river. Scarcely had they reached the margin of 
 the stream, when eleven savages sprang from the thickets and 
 surrounded them, bending their bows and pointing their 
 arrows. In this way they stood for a moment or two in fear 
 ful suspense, the Indians refraining from discharging their 
 shafts, but keeping them constantly pointed at their breasts. 
 One of the Spaniards attempted to escape to his comrades, 
 who were repairing the boat, but the other called him back, 
 and understanding something of the Indian tongue, addressed 
 a few amicable words to the savages. The latter, astonished 
 at being spoken to in their own language, now relaxed a little 
 from their fierceness, and demanded of the strangers who they 
 were, who were their leaders, and what they sought upon their 
 shores. The Spaniard replied that they were harmless people 
 who came from other lands, and merely touched there through 
 necessity, and he wondered that they should meet them with 
 such hostility ; he at the same time warned them to beware, 
 as there would come many of his countrymen well armed, and 
 would wreak terrible vengeance upon them for any mischief 
 they might do. While they were thus parleying, the Bachelor 
 Enciso, hearing that two of his men were surrounded by the 
 savages, sallied instantly from his ship, and hastened with an 
 armed force to their rescue. As he approached, however, the 
 Spaniard who had held the parley made him a signal that the 
 natives were pacific. In fact, the latter had supposed that 
 this was a new invasion of Ojeda and Nicuesa, and had thus 
 arrayed themselves, if not to take vengeance for past out 
 rages, at least to defend their houses from a second desolation. 
 When they were convinced, however, that these were a totally 
 different band of strangers, and without hostile intentions, 
 their animosity was at an end ; they threw by their weapons 
 
84 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 and came forward with the most confiding frankness. During 
 the whole time that the Spaniards remained there, they 
 treated them with the greatest friendship, supplying them 
 with bread made from maize, with salted fish, and with the 
 fermented and spirituous beverages common along that coast. 
 Such was the magnanimous conduct of men who were con 
 sidered among the most ferocious and warlike of these savage 
 nations; and who but recently had beheld their shores in 
 vaded, their villages ravaged and burnt, and their friends and 
 relations butchered, without regard to age or sex, by the 
 countrymen of these very strangers. When we recall the 
 bloody and indiscriminate vengeance wreaked upon this people 
 by Ojeda and his followers for their justifiable resistance of 
 invasion, and compare it with their placable and considerate 
 spirit when an opportunity for revenge presented itself, we 
 confess we feel a momentary doubt whether the arbitrary ap 
 pellation of savage is always applied to the right party. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE BACHELOR HEARS UNWELCOME TIDINGS OF HIS DESTINED 
 JURISDICTION. 
 
 NOT long after the arrival of Enciso at this eventful harbour 
 he was surprised by the circumstance of a brigantine entering 
 and coming to anchor. To encounter an European sail in these 
 almost unknown seas, was always a singular and striking oc 
 currence, but the astonishment of the Bachelor was mingled 
 with alarm when, on boarding the brigantine, te found that it 
 was manned by a number of the men who had embarked with 
 Ojeda. His first idea was, that they had mutinied against their 
 commander, and deserted with the vessel. The feelings of the 
 magistrate were aroused within him by the suspicion, and ho 
 determined to take his first step as Alcalde Mayor, by seizing 
 them and inflicting on them the severity of the law. He al 
 tered his tone, however, on conversing with their resolute 
 commander. This was no other than Francisco Pizarro, 
 whom Ojeda had left as his locum tenons at San Sebastian, 
 and who showed the Bachelor his letter patent, signed by that 
 unfortunate governor. In fact, the little brigantine contained 
 the sad remnant of the once vaunted colony. After the de- 
 
THE VOYAGE OF DIEGO DE NICUESA. 85 
 
 parture of Ojeda in the pirate ship, his followers, whom he 
 had left behind under the command of Pizarro, continued in 
 the fortress until the stipulated term of fifty days had expired. 
 Eeceiving no succour, and hearing no tidings of Ojeda, they 
 then determined to embark and sail for Hispaniola ; but here 
 an unthought-of difficulty presented itself : they were seventy 
 in number, and the two brigantines which had been left with 
 them were incapable of taking so many. They came to the 
 forlorn agreement, therefore, to remain until famine, sickness, 
 and the poisoned arrows of the Indians should reduce their 
 number to the capacity of the brigantines. A brief space of 
 time was sufficient for the purpose. They then prepared for 
 the voyage. Four mares, which had been kept alive as ter 
 rors to the Indians, were killed and salted for sea-stores. Then 
 taking whatever other articles of provision remained, they em 
 barked and made sail. One brigantine was commanded by 
 Pizarro, the other by one Valenzuela. 
 
 They had not proceeded far when, in a storm, a sea struck 
 the crazy vessel of Valenzuela with such violence as to cause 
 it to founder with all its crew. The other brigantine was so 
 near that the mariners witnessed the struggles of their drown 
 ing companions and heard their cries. Some of the sailors, 
 with the common disposition to the marvellous, declared that 
 they had beheld a great whale, or some other monster of the 
 deep, strike the vessel with its tail, and either stave in its sides 
 or shatter the rudder, so as to cause the shipwreck.* The sur 
 viving brigantine then made the best of its way to the harbour 
 of Carthagena, to seek provisions. 
 
 Such was the disastrous account rendered to the Bachelor by 
 Pizarro, of his destined jurisdiction. Enciso, however, was of 
 a confident mind and sanguine temperament, and trusted to 
 restore all things to order and prosperity on his arrival. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CRUSADE OF THE BACHELOR ENCISO AGAINST THE SEPULCHRES 
 
 OP ZENU. 
 
 THE Bachelor Enciso, as has been shown, was a man of the 
 sword as well as of the robe ; having doubtless imbibed a pas- 
 
 * Herrera, Hist. Ind. d. i. 1. vii. c. Id 
 
86 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 sion for military exploit from his intimacy with the discos 
 erers. Accordingly, while at Carthagena, he was visited by 
 an impulse of the kind, and undertook an enterprise that 
 would have been worthy of his friend Ojeda. He had been 
 told by the Indians that about twenty-five leagues to the west 
 lay a province called Zenu, the mountains of which abounded 
 with the finest gold. This was washed down by torrents during 
 the rainy season, in such quantities that the natives stretched 
 nets across the rivers to catch the largest particles ; some of 
 which were said to be as large as eggs. 
 
 The idea of taking gold in nets captivated the imagination of 
 the Bachelor, and his cupidity was still more excited by further 
 accounts of this wealthy province. He was told that Zenu was 
 the general place of sepulture of the Indian tribes through 
 out the country, whither they brought their dead, and buried 
 them, according to their custom, decorated with their most 
 precious ornaments. 
 
 It appeared to him a matter of course, therefore, that there 
 must be an immense accumulation of riches in the Indian 
 tombs, from the golden ornaments that had been buried with 
 the dead through a long series of generations. Fired with the 
 thought, he determined to make a foray into this province, 
 and to sack the sepulchres ! Neither did he feel any compunc 
 tion at the idea of plundering the dead, considering the de 
 ceased as pagans and infidels, who had forfeited even the 
 sanctuary of the grave, by having been buried according to 
 the rites and ceremonies of their idolatrous religion. 
 
 Enciso, accordingly, made sail from Carthagena and landed 
 with his forces on the coast of Zenu. Here he was promptly 
 opposed by two caciques, at the head of a large band of war 
 riors. The Bachelor, though he had thus put on the soldier, 
 retained sufficient of the spirit of his former calling not to enter 
 into quarrel without taking care to have the law on his side ; 
 he proceeded regularly, therefore, according to the legal form 
 recently enjoined by the crown. He caused to be read and 
 interpreted to the caciques the same formula used by Ojeda, 
 expounding the nature of the Deity, the supremacy of the pope, 
 and the right of the Catholic sovereigns to all these lands, by 
 virtue of a grant from his holiness. The caciques listened to 
 the whole very attentively and without interruption, accord 
 ing to the laws of Indian courtesy. They then replied that, as 
 to the assertion that there was but one God, the sovereign of 
 heaven and earth, it seemed to them good, and that such must 
 
THE VOYAGE OF DIEGO DE NICUE8A. 87 
 
 be the case ; but as to the doctrine that the pope was regent of 
 the world in place of God, and that he had made a grant of 
 their country to the Spanish king, they observed that the pope 
 must have been drunk to give away what was not his, and the 
 king must have been somewhat mad to ask at his hands what 
 belonged to others. They added, that they were lords of those 
 lands and needed no other sovereign, and if this king should 
 come to take possession, they would cut off his head and put it 
 on a pole ; that being their mode of dealing with their enemies. 
 As an illustration of this custom they pointed out to Enciso 
 the very uncomfortable spectacle of a row of grizzly heads im 
 paled in the neighbourhood. 
 
 Nothing daunted either by the reply or the illustration, the 
 Bachelor menaced them with war and slavery as the conse 
 quences of their refusal to believe and submit. They replied 
 by threatening to put his head upon a pole as a representative 
 of his sovereign. The Bachelor, having furnished them with 
 the law, now proceeded to the commentary. He attacked the 
 Indians, routed them, and took one of the caciques prisoner, 
 but in the skirmish two of his men were slightly wounded with 
 poisoned arrows, and died raving with torment.* 
 
 "It does not appear, however, that his crusade against the se 
 pulchres was attended with any lucrative advantage. Perhaps 
 the experience he had received of the hostility of the natives, 
 and of the fatal effects of their poisoned arrows, prevented his 
 penetrating into the land with his scanty force. Certain it is, 
 the reputed wealth of Zenu, and the tale of its fishery for gold 
 with nets, remained unascertained and uncontradicted, and 
 were the cause of subsequent and disastrous enterprises. The 
 Bachelor contented himself with his victory, aiid returning to 
 his ships, prepared to continue his voyage for the seat of gov 
 ernment established by Ojeda in the Gulf of Uraba. 
 
 * The above anecdote is related by the Bachelor Enciso himself, in a geographical 
 work entitled Suma de Geographia, which he published in Seville, in 1519. As the 
 reply of the poor savages contains something of natural logic we give a part of it 
 as reported by the Bachelor. " Respondieron me: que en lo que dezia que no avia 
 sino un dios y que este governaba el cielo y la tierra y que era senor de todo que les 
 parecia y que asi debia ser: pero que en lo que dezia que el papa era senor de todo 
 el universe en lugar de dios y que el avia fecho merced de aquella tierra al rey de 
 Castilla; dixeron que el papa debiera estar borachoquando lo hizo pues daba lo que 
 no era suyo, y que el rey que pedia y tomava ttu merced debia ser algun loco pues 
 pedia lo que era de otros," etc. 
 
88 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE BACHELOR ARRIVES AT SAN SEBASTIAN HIS DISASTERS 
 THERE, AND SUBSEQUENT EXPLOITS AT DARIEN. 
 
 IT was not without extreme difficulty, and the peremptory 
 exercise of his authority as Alcalde Mayor, that Enciso pre 
 vailed upon the crew of Pizarro to return with him to the fated 
 shores of San Sebastian. He at length arrived in sight of the 
 long-wished-for seat of his anticipated power and authority; 
 but here he was doomed like his principal, Ojeda, to meet with 
 nothing but misfortune. On entering the harbour his vessel 
 struck on a rock on the eastern point. The rapid currents and 
 tumultuous waves rent it to pieces; the crew escaped with 
 great difficulty to the brigantine of Pizarro ; a little flour, cheese, 
 and biscuit, and a small part of the arms were saved, but the 
 horses, mares, swine, and all other colonial supplies were swept 
 away, and the unfortunate Bachelor beheld the proceeds of 
 several years of prosperous litigation swallowed up in an in 
 stant. 
 
 His dream of place and dignity seemed equally on the point 
 of vanishing, for, on landing, he found the fortress and its 
 adjacent houses mere heaps of ruins, having been destroyed 
 with fire by the Indians. 
 
 For a few days the Spaniards maintained themselves with 
 palm nuts, and with the flesh of a kind of wild swine, of which 
 they met with several herds. These supplies failing, the Bache 
 lor sallied forth with a hundred men to forage the country. 
 They were waylaid by three Indians, who discharged all the 
 arrows in their quivers with incredible rapidity, wounded 
 several Spaniards, and then fled with a swiftness that defied 
 pursuit. The Spaniards returned to the harbour in dismay. 
 All their dread of the lurking savages and their poisoned wea 
 pons revived, and they insisted upon abandoning a place marked 
 out for disaster. 
 
 The Bachelor Enciso was himself disheartened at the situation 
 of this boasted capital of San Sebastian ; but whither could he 
 go where the same misfortunes might not attend him? In this 
 moment of doubt and despondency, Vasco Nunez, the same 
 absconding debtor who had been smuggled on board in the 
 cask, stepped forward to give counsel. He informed the 
 
THE VOYAGE OF DIEGO DE NICUESA. 89 
 
 Bachelor that several years previously he had sailed along that 
 coast with Rodrigo de Bastides. They had explored the whole 
 gulf of Uraba ; and he well remembered an Indian village situ 
 ated on the western side, on the banks of a river which the 
 natives called Darien. The country around was fertile and 
 abundant, and was said to possess mines of gold ; and the na 
 tives, though a warlike race, never made use of poisoned 
 weapons. He offered to guide the Bachelor to this place, where 
 they might get a supply of provisions, and even found their 
 colony. 
 
 The Spaniards hailed the words of Vasco Nunez as if reveal 
 ing a land of promise. The Bachelor adopted his advice, and, 
 guided by him, set sail for the village, determined to eject the 
 inhabitants and take possession of it as the seat of government. 
 Arrived at the river, he landed, put his men in martial array, and 
 marched along the banks. The place was governed by a brave 
 cacique named Zemaco. When he heard of the approach of the 
 Spaniards, he sent off the women and children to a place of 
 safety, and posting himself with five hundred of his warriors on 
 a height, prepared to give the intruders a warm reception. The 
 Bachelor was a discoverer at all points, pious, daring, and 
 rapacious. On beholding this martial array he recommended 
 himself and his followers to God, making a vow in their name 
 to " Our Lady of Antigua," whose image is adored with great 
 devotion in Seville, that the first church and town which they 
 built should be dedicated to her, and that they would make a 
 pilgrimage to Seville to offer the spoils of the heathen at her 
 shrine. Having thus endeavoured to propitiate the favour of 
 Heaven, and to retain the Holy Virgin in his cause, he next 
 proceeded to secure the fidelity of his followers. Doubting 
 that they might have some lurking dread of poisoned arrows, 
 he exacted from them all an oath that they would not turn 
 their backs upon the foe, whatever might happen. Never did 
 warrior enter into battle with more preliminary forms and 
 covenants than the Bachelor Enciso. All these points being 
 arranged, he assumed the soldier, and attacked the enemy with 
 such valour, that though they made at first a show of fierce 
 resistance, they were soon put to flight, and many of them 
 slain. The Bachelor entered the village in triumph, took pos 
 session of it by unquestionable right of conquest, and plundered 
 all the hamlets and houses of the surrounding country ; collect 
 ing great quantities of food and cotton, with bracelets, anklets, 
 plates, and other ornaments of gold, to the value of ten thou- 
 
90 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 sand castellanos.* His heart was wonderfully elated by his 
 victory and his booty ; his followers, also, after so many hard 
 ships and disasters, gave themselves up to joy at this turn of 
 good fortune, and it was unanimously agreed that the seat of 
 government should be established in this village ; to which, in 
 fulfilment of his vow, Enciso gave the name of Santa Maria de 
 la Antigua del Darien. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE BACHELOR ENCISO UNDERTAKES THE COMMAND HIS DOWN 
 FALL. 
 
 THE Bachelor Enciso now entered upon the exercise of his 
 civil functions as Alcalde Mayor, and Lieutenant of the absent 
 governor, Ojeda. His first edict was stern and peremptory; 
 he forbade all trafficking with the natives for gold, on private 
 account, under pain of death. This was in conformity to royal 
 command ; but it was little palatable to men who had engaged 
 in the enterprise in the hopes of enjoying free trade, lawless 
 liberty, and golden gains. They murmured among themselves, 
 and insinuated that Enciso intended to reserve all the profit 
 to himself. 
 
 Vasco Nunez was the first to take advantage of the general 
 discontent. He had risen to consequence among his fellow- 
 adventurers, from having guided them to this place, and from 
 his own intrinsic qualities, being hardy, bold, and intelligent, 
 and possessing the random spirit and open-handed generosity 
 common to a soldier of fortune, and calculated to dazzle and 
 delight the multitude. 
 
 He bore no good will to the Bachelor, recollecting his threat 
 of landing him on an uninhabited island, when he escaped in 
 a cask from San Domingo. He sought, therefore, to make a 
 party against him, and to unseat him from his command. He 
 attacked him in his own way, with legal weapons, questioning 
 the legitimacy of his pretensions. The boundary line, he ob 
 served, which separated the jurisdictions of Ojeda and Nicuesa, 
 ran through the centre of the gulf of Uraba. The village of 
 Darien lay on the western side, which had been allotted to 
 
 * Equivalent to a present sum of 53,359 dollars. 
 
THE VOYAGE Of DItiGO DE NICUESA. 01 
 
 Nicuesa. Enciso, therefore, as Alcalde Mayor and Lieutenant 
 of Ojeda, could have no jurisdiction here, and his assumed 
 authority was a sheer usurpation. 
 
 The Spaniards, already incensed at the fiscal regulations of 
 finciso, were easily convinced ; so with one accord they refused 
 aL3giance to him; and the unfortunate Bachelor found the 
 fchair of authority to which he had so fondly and anxiously 
 aspired, suddenly wrested from under him, before he had well 
 time to take his seat. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 PERPLEXITIES AT THE COLONY ARRIVAL OF COLMENARES. 
 
 To depose the Bachelor had been an easy matter, for most 
 men are ready to assist in pulling down : but to choose a suc 
 cessor was a task of far more difficulty. The people at first 
 agreed to elect mere civil magistrates, and accordingly 
 appointed Vasco Nunez and one Zamudio as alcaldes, together 
 with a cavalier of some merit of the name of Valdivia, as 
 regidor. They soon, however, became dissatisfied with this 
 arrangement, and it was generally considered advisable to vest 
 the authority in one person. Who this person should be, was 
 now the question. Some proposed Nicuesa, as they were 
 within his province ; others were strenuous for Vasco Nunez. 
 A violent dispute ensued, which was carried on with such heat 
 and obstinacy, that many, anxious for a quiet life, declared it 
 would be better to reinstate Enciso until the pleasure of the 
 king should be known. 
 
 In the height of these factious altercations the Spaniards 
 were aroused one day by the thundering of cannon from the 
 opposite side of the gulf, and beheld columns of smoke rising 
 from the hills. Astonished at these signals of civilized man on 
 these wild shores, they replied in the same manner, and in a 
 short time two ships were seen standing across the gulf. They 
 proved to be an armament commanded by one Rodrigo de 
 Colmenares, and were in search of Nicuesa with supplies. 
 They had met with the usual luck of adventurers on this dis 
 astrous coast, storms at sea and savage foes on shore, and 
 many of their number had fallen by poisoned arrows. Col 
 menares had touched at San Sebastian to learn tidings of 
 
92 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 Nicuesa ; but, finding the fortress in ruins, had made signals, 
 in hopes of being heard by the Spaniards, should they be yet 
 lingering in the neighbourhood. 
 
 The arrival of Colmenares caused a temporary suspension 
 of the feuds of the colonists. He distributed provisions among 
 them and gained their hearts. Then, representing the legiti 
 mate right of Nicuesa to the command of all that part of the 
 coast as a governor appointed by the king, he persuaded the 
 greater part of the people to acknowledge his authority. It 
 was generally agreed, therefore, that he should cruise along 
 the coast in search of Nicuesa, and that Diego de Albitez, and 
 an active member of the law, called, the Bachelor Corral, 
 should accompany him as ambassadors, to invite that cavalier 
 to come and assume the government of Darien. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 COLMENARES GOES IN QUEST OF NIGUESA. 
 
 RODRIGO DE COLMENARES proceeded along the coast to the 
 westward, looking into every bay and harbour, but for a long 
 time without success. At length one day he discovered a brig- 
 antine at a small island in the sea. On making up to it, he 
 found that it was part of the armament of Nicuesa, and had 
 been sent out by him to forage for provisions. By this vessel 
 he was piloted to the port of Nombre de Dios, the nominal 
 capital of the unfortunate governor, but which was so sur 
 rounded and overshadowed by forests, that he might have 
 passed by without noticing it. 
 
 The arrival of Colmenares was welcomed with transports 
 and tears of joy. It was scarcely possible for him to recognize 
 the once buoyant and brilliant Nicuesa in the squalid and de 
 jected man before him. He was living in the most abject 
 misery. Of all his once gallant and powerful band of fol 
 lowers, but sixty men remained, and those so feeble, yellow, 
 emaciated, and woe-begone, that it was piteous to behold 
 them.* 
 
 * The harbour of Nombre de Dios continued for a long time to present traces of 
 the sufferings of the Spaniards. We are told by Herrera, that several years after 
 the time here mentioned, a band of eighty Spanish soldiers, commanded by Gon- 
 zalo de Badajos, arrived at the harbour with an intention of penetrating into the 
 interior. They found there the ruined fort of Nicuesa, together with skulls an<J 
 
THE VOYAGE OF DIEGO DE NICUESA. 93 
 
 Colmenares distributed food among them, and told them 
 that he had come to convey them to a plenteous country, and 
 one rich in gold. When Nicuesa heard of the settlement at 
 Darien, and that the inhabitants had sent for him to come and 
 govern them, he was as a man suddenly revived from death. 
 All the spirit and munificence of the cavalier again awakened 
 in him. He gave a kind of banquet that very day to Colme 
 nares and the ambassadors, from the provisions brought in the 
 ship. He presided at his table with his former hilarity, and 
 displayed a feat of his ancient office as royal carver, by hold 
 ing up a fowl in the air and dissecting it with wonderful 
 adroitness. 
 
 Well would it have been for Nicuesa haQ. the sudden buoy 
 ancy of his feelings carried him no further, but adversity had 
 not taught him prudence. In conversing with the envoys 
 about the colony of Darien, he already assumed the tone of 
 governor, and began to disclose the kind of policy with which 
 he intended to rule. When he heard that great quantities of 
 gold had been collected and retained by private individuals, 
 his ire was kindled. He vowed to make them refund it, and 
 even talked of punishing them for trespassing upon the privi 
 leges and monopolies of the crown. This was the very error 
 that had unseated the Bachelor Enciso from his government, 
 and it was a strong measure for one to threaten who as yet was 
 governor but in expectation. The menace was not lost upon 
 the watchful ambassadors Diego de Albitez and the Bachelor 
 Corral. They were put still more on the alert by a conversa 
 tion which they held that very evening with Lope de Olano, 
 who was still detained a prisoner for his desertion, but who 
 found means to commune with the envoys, and to prejudice 
 them against his unsuspecting commander. "Take warning," 
 said he, "by my treatment. I sent relief to Nicuesa and 
 rescued him from death when starving on a desert island. 
 Behold my recompense. He repays me with imprisonment 
 and chains. Such is the gratitude the people of Darien may 
 look for at his hands !" 
 
 The subtle Bachelor Corral and his fellow envoy laid these 
 matters to heart, and took their measures accordingly. They 
 
 bones, and crosses erected on heaps of stones, dismal mementos of his followers 
 who had perished of hunger; the sight of which struck such horror cind dismay into 
 the hearts of the soldiers that they would have abandoned their enterprise, had not 
 their intrepid captain immediately sent away the ships, and thus deprived them oi 
 the means of retreating. Herrera, d. xi. 1. i. 
 
94 SPANISH VOYAGKS OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 hurried their departure before Nicuesa, and setting all sail on 
 their caravel, hastened back to Darien. The moment they 
 arrived they summoned a meeting of the principal inhabitants. 
 " A blessed change we have made," said they, "in summoning 
 this Diego de Nicuesa to the command ! We have called in the 
 stork to take the rule, who will not rest satisfied until he has 
 devoured us." They then related, with the usual exaggeration, 
 the unguarded threats that had fallen from Nicuesa, and 
 instanced his treatment of Olano as a proof of a tyrannous and 
 ungrateful disposition. 
 
 The words of the subtle Bachelor Corral and his associate 
 produced a violent agitation among the people, especially 
 among those who had amassed treasures which would have to 
 be refunded. Nicuesa, too, by a transaction which almost de 
 stroys sympathy in his favour, gave time for their passions to 
 ferment. On his way to Darien he stopped for several days 
 among a group of small islands, for the purpose of capturing 
 Indians to be sold as slaves. While committing these outrages 
 against humanity, he sent forward Juan de Cayzedo in a boat 
 to announce his coming. His messenger had a private pique 
 against him, and played him false. He assured the people of 
 Darien that all they had been told by their envoys concerning 
 the tyranny and ingratitude of Nicuesa was true. That he 
 treated his followers with wanton severity ; that he took from 
 them all they won in battle, saying, that the spoils were his 
 rightful property ; and that it was his intention to treat the 
 people of Darien in the same manner. "What folly is it in 
 you, "added he, "being your own masters, and in such free 
 condition, to send for a tyrant to rule over you!" 
 
 The people of Darien were convinced by this concurring tes 
 timony, and confounded by the overwhelming evil they had 
 thus invoked upon their heads. They had deposed Enciso for 
 his severity, and they had thrown themselves into the power 
 of one who threatened to be ten times more severe ! Vasco 
 Nunez de Balboa observed their perplexity and consternation. 
 He drew them one by one apart, and conversed with them in 
 private. "You are cast down in heart," said he, "and so you 
 might well be, were the evil beyond all cure. But do not 
 despair ; there is an effectual relief, and you hold it in your 
 hands. Tf you have committed an error in inviting Nicuesa to 
 Darien, it is easily remedied by not receiving him when he 
 comes !" The obviousness and simplicity of the remedy struck 
 every mind, and it was unanimously adopted. 
 
THE VOYAGE OF DIEGO DE NICUESA 95 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 CATASTROPHE OF THE UNFORTUNATE NICUESA. 
 
 WHILE this hostile plot was maturing at Darien, tlie unsus 
 pecting Nicuesa pursued his voyage leisurely and serenely, and 
 arrived in safety at the mouth of the river. On approaching 
 the shore he beheld a multitude, headed by Vasco Nuiiez, 
 waiting, as he supposed to receive him with all due honour. 
 He was about to land, when the public procurator, or attorney, 
 called to him with a loud voice, warning him not to disembark, 
 but advising him to return with all speed to his government at 
 Nombre de Dios. 
 
 Nicuesa remained for a moment as if thunder-struck by so 
 unlooked-for a salutation. When he recovered his self-posses 
 sion he reminded them that he had come at their own request ; 
 he entreated, therefore, that he might be allowed to land and 
 have an explanation, after which he would be ready to act as 
 they thought proper. His entreaties were vain: they only 
 provoked insolent replies, and threats of violence should he 
 venture to put foot on shore. Night coming on, therefore, he 
 was obliged to stand out to sea, but returned the next morn 
 ing, hoping to find this capricious people in a different mood. 
 
 There did, indeed, appear to be a favourable change, for he 
 was now invited to land. It was a mere stratagem to get him 
 in their power, for no sooner did he set foot on shore than the 
 multitude rushed forward to seize him. Among his many 
 bodily endowments, Nicuesa was noted for swiftness of foot. 
 He now trusted to it for safety, and, throwing off the dignity 
 of governor, fled for his life along the shore, pursued by the 
 rabble. He soon distanced his pursuers and took refuge in the 
 woods. 
 
 Vasco Nuiiez de Balboa, who was himself a man of birth, 
 seeing this high-bred cavalier reduced to such extremity, and 
 at the mercy of a violent rabble, repented of what he had done. 
 He had not anticipated such popular fury, and endeavoured, 
 though too late, to allay the tempest he had raised. He suc 
 ceeded in preventing the people from pursuing Nicuesa into the 
 forest, and then endeavoured to mollify the vindictive rage of 
 his fellow Alcalde, Zamudio, whose hostility was quickened by 
 the dread of losing his office, should the new governor be re 
 ceived ; and who was supported in his boisterous conduct by 
 
96 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 the natural love of the multitude for what are called " strong 
 measures." Nicuesa now held a parley with the populace, 
 through the mediation of Vasco Nunez. He begged that, if 
 they would not acknowledge him as governor, they would at 
 least admit him as a companion. This they refused, saying, 
 that if they admitted him in one capacity, he would end by at 
 taining to the other. He then implored, that if he could be 
 admitted on no other terms, they would treat him as a prisoner, 
 and put him in irons, for he would rather die among them than 
 return to Nombre de Dios, to perish of famine, or by the arrows 
 of the Indians. 
 
 It was in vain that Vasco Nunez exerted his eloquence to 
 obtain some grace for this unhappy cavalier. His voice was 
 drowned by the vociferations of the multitude. Among these 
 was a noisy swaggering fellow named Francisco Benitez, a 
 great talker and jester, who took a vulgar triumph in the dis 
 tresses of a cavalier, and answered every plea in his tfehalf 
 with scoffs and jeers. He was an adherent of the Alcalde Za- 
 mudio, and under his patronage felt emboldened to bluster. 
 His voice was even uppermost in the general clamour, until, to 
 the expostulations of Vasco Nunez, he replied by merely bawl 
 ing with great vociferation, "No, no, no! we will receive no 
 such a fellow among us as Nicuesa !" The patience of Vasco 
 Nunez was exhausted ; he availed himself of his authority as 
 Alcade, and suddenly, before his fellow magistrate could inter 
 fere, ordered the brawling ruffian to be rewarded with a hun 
 dred lashes, which were taled out roundly to him upon the 
 shoulders.* 
 
 Seeing that the fury of the populace was not to be pacified, 
 he sent word to Nicuesa to retire to his brigantine, and not to 
 venture on shore until advised by him to do so. The counsel 
 was fruitless. Nicuesa, above deceit himself, suspected it not 
 in others. He retired to his brigantine, it is true, but suffered 
 himself to be inveigled on shore by a deputation professing to 
 come on the part of the public, with offers to reinstate him as 
 governor. He had scarcely landed when he was set upon by 
 an armed band, headed by the base-minded Zamudio, who 
 seized him and compelled him, by menaces of death, to swear 
 that he would immediately depart, and make no delay in 
 any place until he had presented himself before the king and 
 council in Castile. 
 
 Las Casas, Hist. Ind. 1. ii, c. 68. 
 
THE VOYAGE OF DIEGO DE NICUESA. 97 
 
 It was in vain that Nicuesa reminded them that he was gov 
 ernor of that territory and representative of the king, and 
 that they were guilty of treason in thus opposing him ; it was 
 in vain that he appealed to their humanity, or protested be 
 fore God against their cruelty and persecution. The people 
 were in that state of tumult when they are apt to add cruelty 
 to injustice. Not content with expelling the discarded gov 
 ernor from their shores, they allotted him the worst vessel in 
 the harbour ; an old crazy brigantine totally unfit to encoun 
 ter the perils and labours of the sea. 
 
 Seventeen followers embarked with him ; some being of his 
 household and attached to his person; the rest were volun 
 teers who accompanied him out of respect and sympathy. 
 The frail bark set sail on the first of March, 1511, and steered 
 across the Caribbean sea for the island of Hispaniola, but was 
 never seen or heard of more ! 
 
 Various attempts have been made to penetrate the mystery 
 that covers the fate of the brigantine and its crew. A rumour 
 prevailed some years afterwards that several Spaniards, wan 
 dering along the shore of Cuba, found the following inscription 
 carved on a tree : 
 
 Aqui fenecid el desdicado Nicuesa. 
 (Here perished the unfortunate Nicuesa.) 
 
 Hence it was inferred that he and his followers had landed 
 there, and been massacred by the Indians. Las Casas, how 
 ever, discredits this story. He accompanied the first Span 
 iards who took possession of Cuba, and heard nothing of the 
 fact, as he most probably would have done had it really oc 
 curred. He imagines, rather, that the crazy bark was swal 
 lowed up by the storms and currents of the Caribbean sea, 
 or that the crew perished with hunger and thirst, having 
 been but scantily supplied with provisions. The good old bishop 
 adds, with the superstitious feeling prevalent in that age, that 
 a short time before Nicuesa sailed from Spain on his expedi 
 tion, an astrologer warned him not to depart on the day he had 
 appointed, or under a certain sign ; the cavalier replied, how 
 ever, that he had less confidence in the stars than in God who 
 made them. "I recollect, moreover," adds Las Casas, "that 
 about this time a comet was seen over this island of Hispaniola, 
 which, if I do not forget, was in the shape of a sword ; and it 
 was said that a monk warned several of those about to embark 
 
98 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 with. Nicuesa, to avoid that captain, for the heavens foretold 
 he was destined to be lost. The same, however, " he concludes, 
 "might be said of Alonzo de Ojeda, who sailed at the same 
 time, yet returned to San Domingo and died in his bed. " * 
 
 * Las Casas, ut sup. c. 
 
VA8CO NUffEZ DE BALBOA. 99 
 
 VASCO NUNEZ DE BALBOA, 
 
 DISCOVERER OF THE PACIFIC OCEAN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 FACTIONS AT DARIEN VASCO NUNEZ ELECTED TO THE COMMAND. 
 
 WE have traced the disastrous fortunes of Alonzo de Ojeda 
 and Diego de Nicuesa ; we have now to record the story of 
 Vasco Nunez .le Balboa, an adventurer equally daring, far 
 more renowned, and not less unfortunate, who, in a manner, 
 rose upon their ruins. 
 
 When the bark disappeared from view which bore the ill- 
 starred Nicuesa from the shores of Darien, the community 
 relapsed into factions, as to who should have the rule. The 
 Bachelor Enciso insisted upon his claims as paramount, but he 
 met with a powerful opponent in Vasco Nunez, who had be 
 come a great favourite with the people, from his frank and 
 fearless character, and his winning affability. In fact, he was 
 peculiarly calculated to manage the fiery and factious, yet 
 generous and susceptible nature of his countrymen; for the 
 Spaniards, though proud and resentful, and impatient of indig 
 nity or restraint, are easily dazzled by valour, and won by 
 courtesy and kindness. Vasco Nunez had the external re 
 quisites also to captivate the multitude. He was now about 
 thirty-five years of age ; tall, well formed, and vigorous, with 
 reddish hair, and an open prepossessing countenance. His 
 office of Alcalde, whhe it clothed him with influence and im 
 portance, tempered those irregular and dissolute habits he 
 might have indulged while a mere soldier of fortune; and his 
 superior talent soon gave Iiim a complete ascendancy over his 
 official colleague Zamudio. He was thus enabled to set on foot 
 a vigorous opposition to Enciso, Still he proceeded according 
 to the forms of law, and summoned the Be chelor to trial, on 
 
100 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 the charge of usurping the powers of Alcalde Mayor, on the 
 mere appointment of Alonzo de Ojeda, whose jurisdiction did 
 not extend to this province. 
 
 Enciso was an able lawyer, and pleaded his cause skilfully ; 
 but his claims were, in fact, fallacious, and, had they not been 
 so, he had to deal with men who cared little for law, who had 
 been irritated by his legal exactions, and who were disposed to 
 be governed by a man of the sword rather than of the robe. 
 He was readily found guilty, therefore, and thrown into 
 prison, and all his property was confiscated. This was a vio 
 lent verdict, and rashly executed ; but justice seemed to grow 
 fierce and wild when transplanted to the wilderness of the new 
 world. Still there is no place where wrong can be committed 
 with impunity ; the oppression of the Bachelor Enciso, though 
 exercised under the forms of law, and in a region remote from 
 the pale of civilized life, redounded to the eventual injury of 
 Vasco Nunez, and contributed to blast the fruits of that ambi 
 tion it was intended to promote. 
 
 The fortunes of the enterprising Bachelor had indeed run 
 strangely counter to the prospects with which he had embarked 
 at San Domingo ; he had become a culprit at the bar instead of 
 a judge upon the bench ; and now was left to ruminate in a 
 prison on the failure of his late attempt at general command. 
 His friends, however, interceded warmly in his behalf, and at 
 length obtained his release from confinement, and permission 
 for him to return to Spain. Vasco Nunez foresaw that the 
 lawyer would be apt to plead his cause more effectually at the 
 court of Castile than he had done before the partial and pre 
 judiced tribunal of Darien. He prevailed upon his fellow 
 Alcalde Zamudio, therefore, who was implicated with him in 
 the late transactions, to return to Spain in the same vessel 
 with the Bachelor, so as to be on the spot to answer his 
 charges, and to give a favourable report of the case. He was 
 also instructed to set forth the services of Vasco Nunez, both 
 in guiding the colonists to this place, and in managing the 
 affairs of the settlement ; and to dwell with emphasis on the 
 symptoms of great riches in the surrounding country. 
 
 The Bachelor and the Alcalde embarked in a small caravel ; 
 and, as it was to touch at Hispaniola, Vasco Nunez sent his 
 confidential friend, the Ke^idor Valdivia, to that island to ob 
 tain provisions and recruits. He secretly put into his hands a 
 round sum of gold as a present to Miguel de Pasamonte, the 
 royal treasurer of Hispaniola, whom he kne^y to have great 
 
VASCO J\ 7 UfftiZ DK BALBOA. 101 
 
 credit with the king, and to be invested with extensive powers, 
 craving at the same time his protection in the new world and 
 his influence at court. 
 
 Having taken these shrewd precautions, Vasco Nunez saw 
 the caravel depart without dismay, though bearing to Spain 
 his most dangerous enemy; he consoled himself, moreover, 
 with the reflection that it likewise bore off his fellow Alcalde, 
 Zamudio, and thus left him in sole command of the colony. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 EXPEDITION TO COYBA- VASCO NUNEZ RECEIVES THE DAUGHTER 
 OF A CACIQUE AS HOSTAGE. 
 
 VASCO NUNEZ now exerted himself to prove his capacity for 
 the government to which he had aspired ; and as he knew that 
 no proof was more convincing to King Ferdinand than ample 
 remittances, and that gold covered all sins in the new world, 
 his first object was to discover those parts of the country which 
 most aboumded in the precious metals. Hearing exaggerated 
 reports of the riches of a province about thirty leagues distant, 
 called Coyba, he sent Francisco Pizarro with six men to ex 
 plore it. 
 
 The cacique Zemaco, the native lord of Darien, who cher 
 ished a bitter hostility against the European intruders, and 
 hovered with his warriors about the settlement, received no 
 tice of this detachment, from hie spies, and planted himself in 
 ambush to waylay and destroy it. The Spaniards had scarcely 
 proceeded three leagues along the course of the river when a 
 host of savages burst upon them from the surrounding thick 
 ets, uttering frightful yells, and discharging showers of stones 
 and arrows. Pizarro and his men, though sorely bruised and 
 wounded, rushed into the thickest of the foe, slew many, 
 wounded more, and put the rest to flight ; but, fearing another 
 assault, they made a precipitate retreat, leaving one of their 
 companions, Francisco Hernan, disabled on the field. They 
 arrived at the settlement crippled and bleeding; but when 
 Vasco Nunez heard the particulars of the action, his anger 
 was roused against Pizarro, and he ordered him, though 
 wounded, to return immediately and recover the disabled 
 
102 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 man, "Let it not be said, for shame," said he, "that Span 
 iards fled before savages, and left a comrade in their hands !" 
 Pizarro felt the rebuke, returned to the scene of combat and 
 brought off Francisco Hernan in safety. 
 
 Nothing having been heard of Nicuesa since his departure, 
 Vasco Nuilez despatched two brigantines for those followers of 
 that unfortunate adventurer who had remained at Nombre de 
 Dios. They were overjoyed at being rescued from their for 
 lorn situation, and conveyed to a settlement where there was 
 some prospect of comfortable subsistence. The brigantines, in 
 coasting the shores of the Isthmus, picked up two Spaniards, 
 clad in painted skins and looking as wild as the native In 
 dians. These men, to escape some punishment, had fled from 
 the ship of Nicuesa about a year and a half before, and had 
 taken refuge with Careta, the cacique of Coyba. The savage 
 chieftain had treated them with hospitable kindness; their 
 first return for which, now that they found themselves safe 
 among their countrymen, was to advise the latter to invade 
 the cacique in his dwelling, where they assured them they 
 would find immense booty. Finding their suggestion listened 
 to, one of them proceeded to Darien, to serve as a guide to any 
 expedition that might be set on foot ; the other returned to the 
 cacique, to assist in betraying him. 
 
 Vasco Nunez was elated by the intelligence received through 
 these vagabonds of the wilderness. He chose a hundred and 
 thirty well armed and resolute men, and set off for Coyba, the 
 dominions of Careta. The cacique received the Spaniards in his 
 mansion with the accustomed hospitality of a savage, setting 
 before them meat and drink, and whatever his house afforded ; 
 but when Vasco Nufiez asked for a large supply of provisions 
 for the colony, he declared that he had none to spare, his 
 people having been prevented from cultivating the soil by a 
 war which he was waging with the neighbouring cacique of 
 Ponca. The Spanish traitor, who had remained to betray his 
 benefactor, now took Vasco Nufiez aside, and assured him that 
 the cacique had an abundant hoard of provisions in secret ; he 
 advised him, however, to seem to believe his words, and to 
 make a pretended departure for Darien with his troops, but to 
 return in the night and take the village by surprise. Vasco 
 Nunez adopted the advice of the traitor. He took a cordial leave 
 of Careta, and set off for the settlement. In the dead of the 
 night, however, when the savages were buried in deep sleep, 
 Vasco Nunez led his men into the midst of the village, and, 
 
VA8CO XUffEZ DE BALBOA. 103 
 
 before the inhabitants could rouse themselves to resistance, 
 made captives of Careta, his wives, and children, and many of 
 his people. He discovered also the hoard of provisions, with 
 which he loaded two brigantines, and returned with his booty 
 and his captives to Darien. 
 
 When the unfortunate cacique beheld his family in chains, 
 and in the hands of strangers, his heart was wrung with 
 despair ; What have I done to thee, " said he to Vasco Nunez, 
 "that thou shouldst treat me thus cruelly? None of thy 
 people ever came to my land that were not fed and sheltered 
 and treated with loving-kindness. When thou earnest to my 
 dwelling, did I meet thee with a javelin in my hand? Did I 
 not set meat and drink before thee and welcome thee as a 
 brother? Set me free, therefore, with my family and people, 
 and we will remain thy friends. We will supply thee with 
 provisions, and reveal to thee the riches of the land. Dost thou 
 doubt my faith? Behold my daughter, I give her to thee as a 
 pledge of friendship. Take her for thy wife, and be assured of 
 the fidelity of her family and her people !" 
 
 Vasco Nunez felt the force of these words and knew the im 
 portance of forming a strong alliance among the natives. The 
 captive maid, also, as she stood trembling and dejected before 
 him, found great favour in his eyes, for she was young and 
 beautiful. He granted, therefore, the prayer of the cacique, 
 and accepted his daughter, engaging, moreover, to aid the 
 father against his enemies, on condition of his furnishing pro 
 visions to the colony. 
 
 Careta remained three days at Darien, during which time he 
 was treated with the utmost kindness. Vasco Nunez took him 
 on board of his ships and showed him every part of them. He 
 displayed before him also the war-horses, with their armour 
 and rich caparisons, and astonished him with the thunder of 
 artillery. Lest he should be too much daunted by these war 
 like spectacles, he caused the musicians to perform a harmoni 
 ous concert on their instruments, at which the cacique was lost 
 in admiration. Thus having impressed him with a wonderful 
 idea of the power and endowments of his new allies, he loaded 
 him with presents and permitted him to depart.* 
 
 Careta returned joyfully to his territories, and his daughter 
 remained with Vasco Nunez, willingly, for his sake, giving up 
 her family and native home. They were never married, but 
 
 * P. Martyr, D. 3, c. vi. 
 
104 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 she considered herself his wife, as she really was, according to 
 the usages of her own country, and he treated her with fond 
 ness, allowing her gradually to acquire great influence over 
 him. To his affection for this damsel his ultimate ruin is in 
 some measure to be ascribed. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 VASCO NUNEZ HEARS OF A SEA BEYOND THE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 VASCO NUNEZ kept his word with the father of his Indian 
 beauty. Taking with him eighty men and his companion-in 
 arms, Rodrigo Enriquez de Colmenares, he repaired by sea to 
 Coyba, the province of the cacique. Here landing, he invaded 
 the territories of Ponca, the great adversary of Careta, and 
 obliged him to take refuge in the mountains. He then ravaged 
 his lands and sacked his villages, in which he found consider 
 able booty. Returning to Coyba, where he was joyfully enter 
 tained by Careta, he next made a friendly visit to the adjacent 
 province of Comagre, which was under the sway of a cacique 
 of the same name, who had 3,000 fighting men at his command. 
 
 This province was situated at the foot of a lofty mountain in 
 a beautiful plain twelve leagues in extent. On the approach of 
 Vasco Nunez, the cacique came forth to meet him attended by 
 seven sons, all fine young men, the offspring of his various 
 wives. He was followed by his principal chiefs and warriors, 
 and by a multitude of his people. The Spaniards were con 
 ducted with great ceremony to the village, where quarters were 
 assigned them, and they were furnished with abundance of 
 provisions, and men and women were appointed to attend upon 
 them. 
 
 The dwelling of the cacique surpassed any they had yet seen 
 for magnitude and for the skill and solidity of the architecture. 
 It was one hundred and fifty paces in length, and eighty in 
 breadth, founded upon great logs surrounded with a stone 
 wall ; while the upper part was of wood- work, curiously inter 
 woven and wrought with such beauty, as to fill the Spaniards 
 with surprise and admiration. It contained many commodious 
 apartments. There were store-rooms also; one filled with 
 bread, with venison, and other provisions; another with 
 various spirituous beverages which the Indians made from 
 
VASCO NUftEZ DE BALBOA. 105 
 
 maize, from a species of the palm, and from roots of different 
 kinds. There was also a great hall in a retired and secret part 
 of the building, wherein Comagre preserved the bodies of his 
 ancestors and relatives. These had been dried by the fire, so as 
 to free them from corruption, and afterwards wrapped in man 
 ties of cotton richly wrought and interwoven with pearls and 
 jewels of gold, and with certain stones held precious by the 
 natives. They were then hung about the hall with cords of 
 cotton, and regarded with great reverence, if not a species of 
 religious devotion. 
 
 Among the sons of the cacique, the eldest was of a lofty and 
 rous spirit, and distinguished above the rest by his supe- 
 intelligence and sagacity. Perceiving, says old Peter 
 Martyr, that the Spaniards were a wandering kind of men r 
 living only by shifts and spoil, " he sought to gain favour for 
 himself and family by gratifying their avarice. He gave 
 Vasco Nuiiez and Colmenares, therefore, 4,000 ounces of gold, 
 wrought into various ornaments, together with sixty slaves, 
 being captives that he had taken in the ware. Vasco Nuiiez 
 ordered one-fifth of the gold to be weighed out and set apart 
 for the crown, and the rest to be shared among his fol 
 lowers. 
 
 The division of the gold took place in the porch of the dwell 
 ing of Comagre, in the presence of the youthful cacique who 
 had made the gift. As the Spaniards were weighing it out, a 
 violent quarrel arose among them as to the size and value of 
 the pieces which fell to their respective shares. The high- 
 minded savage was disgusted at this sordid brawl among 
 beings whom he had regarded with such reverence. In the 
 first impulse of his disdain, he struck the scales with his fist 
 and scattered the glittering gold about the porch. Before the 
 Spaniards could recover from their astonishment at this sud 
 den act, he thus addressed them, Why should you quarrel 
 for such a trifle? If this gold is indeed so precious in your 
 eyes that for it alone you abandon your homes, invade the 
 peaceful land of others, and expose yourselves to such suffer 
 ings and perils, I will tell you of a region where you may 
 gratify your wishes to the utmost. Behold those lofty moun 
 tains," continued he, pointing to the south. "Beyond these 
 lies a mighty sea, which may be discerned from their summit. 
 It is navigated by people who have vessels almost as large as 
 yours, and furnished, like them, with sails and oars. All the 
 streams which flow down the southern side of those mountains 
 
106 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY 
 
 into that sea abound in gold, and the kings who reign upon its 
 borders eat and drink out of golden vessels. Gold, in fact, is 
 as plentiful and common among those people of the south as 
 iron is among you Spaniards." 
 
 Struck with this intelligence, Vasco Nunez inquired eagerly 
 as to the means of penetrating to this sea and to the opulent 
 regions on its shores. "The task," replied the prince, "is 
 difficult and dangerous. You must pass through the territo 
 ries of many powerful caciques, who will oppose you with hosts 
 of warriors. Some parts of the mountains are infested by 
 fierce and cruel cannibals a wandering, lawless race; but, 
 above all, you will have to encounter the great cacique, T 
 nama, whose territories are at the distance of six days j 
 ney, and more rich in gold than any other province; this 
 cacique will be sure to come forth against you with a mighty 
 force. To accomplish your enterprise, therefore, will require 
 at least a thousand men armed like those who follow you." 
 
 The youthful cacique gave him further information on the 
 subject, collected from various captives whom he had taken in 
 battle, and from one of his own nation, who had been for a 
 long time in captivity to Tubanama, the powerful cacique of 
 the golden realm. The prince, moreover, offered to prove the 
 sincerity of his words by accompanying Vasco Nunez in any 
 expedition to those parts at the head of his father s warriors. 
 
 Such was the first intimation received by Vasco Nunez of the 
 Pacific Ocean and its golden realms, and it had an immediate 
 effect upon his whole character and conduct. This hitherto 
 wandering and desperate man had now an enterprise opened 
 to his ambition, which, if accomplished, would elevate him to 
 fame and fortune, and entitle him to rank among the great 
 captains and discoverers of the earth. Henceforth the discov 
 ery of the sea beyond the mountains was the great object of 
 his thoughts, and his whole spirit seemed roused and ennobled 
 by the idea. 
 
 He hastened his return to Darien, to make the necessary 
 preparations for this splendid enterprise. Before departing 
 from the province of Comagre he baptized that cacique by the 
 name of Don Carlos, and performed the same ceremony upon 
 his sons and several of his subjects ; thus singularly did ava 
 rice and religion go hand in hand in the conduct of the Spanish- 
 discoverers. 
 
 Scarcely had Vasco Nunez returned to Darien when the 
 Regidor Valdivia arrived there from Hispaniola, but with no 
 
VASCO NUtfEZ DE BALBOA. 107 
 
 more provisions than could be brought in his small caravel. 
 These were soon consumed, and the general scarcity continued. 
 It was heightened also by a violent tempest of thunder, light 
 ning, and rain, which brought such torrents from the moun 
 tains that the river swelled and overflowed its banks, laying 
 waste all the adjacent fields that had been cultivated. In this 
 extremity Vasco Nunez despatched Yaldivia a second time to 
 Hispaniola for provisions. Animated also by the loftier views 
 of his present ambition, he wrote to Don Diego Columbus, who 
 governed at San Domingo, informing him of the intelligence 
 he had received of a great sea and opulent realms beyond the 
 mountains, and entreating him to use his influence with the 
 king that one thousand men might be immediately furnished 
 him for the prosecution of so grand a discovery. He sent him 
 also the amount of fifteen thousand crowns in gold, to be re 
 mitted to the king as the royal fifths of what had already been 
 collected under his jurisdiction. Many of his followers, also, 
 forwarded sums of gold to be remitted to their creditors in 
 Spain. In the mean time, Vasco Nunez prayed the admiral to 
 yield him prompt succour to enable him to keep his footing in 
 the land, representing the difficulty he had in maintaining, 
 with a mere handful of men, so vast a country in a state of 
 subjection. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 EXPEDITION OF VASCO NUNEZ IN QUEST OF THE GOLDEN TEMPLE 
 OF DOBAYBA. (1512.) 
 
 WHILE Vasco Nunez awaited the result of this mission of 
 Valdivia, his active disposition prompted him to undertake 
 foraging excursions into the surrounding country. 
 
 Among various rumours of golden realms in the interior of 
 this unknown land, was one concerning a province called Do- 
 bayba, situated about forty leagues distant, on the banks of a 
 great river which emptied itself, by several mouths, into a 
 corner of the Gulf of Uraba. 
 
 This province derived its name, according to Indian tradi 
 tion., from a mighty female of the olden time, the mother of 
 the god who created the sun and moon and all good things. 
 She had power over the elements, sending thunder and light- 
 
108 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 ning to lay waste the lands of those who displeased her, but 
 showering down fertility and abundance upon the lands of her 
 faithful worshippers. Others described her as having been an 
 Indian princess who once reigned amongst the mountains of 
 Dobayba, and was renowned throughout the land for her 
 supernatural power and wisdom. After her death, divine 
 honours were paid her, and a great temple was erected for her 
 worship. Hither the natives repaired from far and near, on a 
 kind of pilgrimage, bearing offerings of their most valuable 
 effects. The caciques who ruled over distant territories, also 
 sent golden tributes, at certain times of the year, to be de 
 posited in this temple, and slaves to be sacrificed at its shrine. 
 At one time, it was added, this worship fell into disuse, the 
 pilgrimages were discontinued, and the caciques neglected to 
 send their tributes ; whereupon the deity, as a punishment, in 
 flicted a drought upon the country. The springs and fountains 
 failed, the rivers were dried up ; the inhabitants of the moun 
 tains were obliged to descend into the plains, where they digged 
 pits and wells, but these likewise failing, a great part of the 
 nations perished with thirst. The remainder hastened to pro 
 pitiate the deity by tributes and sacrifices, and thus succeeded 
 in averting her displeasure. In consequence of offerings of 
 the kind, made for generations from all parts of the country, 
 the temple was said to be filled with treasure, and its walls to 
 be covered with golden gifts.* In addition to the tale of this 
 temple, the Indians gave marvellous accounts of the general 
 wealth of this province, declaring that it abounded with mines 
 of gold, the veins of which reached from the dwelling of the 
 cacique to the borders of his dominions. 
 
 To penetrate to this territory, and above ah 1 to secure the 
 treasures of the golden temple, was an enterprise suited to the 
 adventurous spirit of the Spaniards. Vasco Nunez chose one 
 hundred and seventy of his hardiest men for the purpose. 
 Embarking them in two brigantines and a number of canoes, 
 he set sail from Darien, and, after standing about nine leagues 
 to the east, came to the mouth of the Eio Grande de San Juan, 
 or the Great River of St. John, also called the Atrato, which is 
 since ascertained to be one of the branches of the river Darien. 
 Here he detached Rodrigo Enriquez de Colmenares with one^ 
 third of his forces to explore the stream, while he himself pro 
 ceeded with the residue to another branch of the river, which 
 
 * P. Martyr, decad. 3, c. vi. Idem. d. 7, c. x. 
 
VASCO NU&KZ DE BALBOA. 109 
 
 he was told flowed from the province of Dobayba, and which 
 he ascended, flushed with sanguine expectations.* 
 
 His old enemy, Zemaco, the cacique of Darien, however, had 
 discovered the object of his expedition, and had taken measures 
 to disappoint it : repairing to the province of Dobayba, he had 
 prevailed upon its cacique to retire at the approach of the 
 Spaniards, leaving his country deserted. 
 
 Vasco Nunez found a village situated in a marshy neighbour 
 hood, on the banks of the river, and mistook it for the residence 
 of the cacique : it was silent and abandoned. There was not an 
 Indian to be met with from whom he could obtain a,ny infor 
 mation about the country, or who could guide him to the golden 
 temple. He was disappointed, also, in his hopes of obtaining a 
 supply of provisions, but he found weapons of various kinds 
 hanging in the deserted houses, and gathered jewels and pieces 
 of gold to the value of seven thousand castellanos. Discour 
 aged by the savage look of the surrounding wilderness, wh^h 
 was perplexed by deep morasses, and having no guides to aid 
 him in exploring it, he put all the booty he had collected into 
 two large canoes, and made his way back to the Gulf of U^aba. 
 Here he was assailed by a violent tempest, which nearly 
 wrecked his two brigantines, and obliged him to throw a great 
 part of their cargoes overboard. The two canoes Containing 
 the booty were swallowed up by the raging sea, and all their 
 crews perished. 
 
 Thus baffled and tempest-tost, Vasco Nunez at length suc 
 ceeded in getting into what was termed c .e Grand River, 
 which he ascended, and rejoined Colmenares and his detach 
 ment. They now extended their excursions up a stream which 
 emptied into the Grand River, and which, u-orn the dark hue 
 of its waters, they called Rio Negro, or the Black River. They 
 also explored certain other tributary streams branching trom 
 h, though not without occasional skirmishes with the natives. 
 
 * In recording this expedition, the author has followed the old Spanish narratives, 
 written when the face of the country was but little known, and he was much per 
 plexed to reconcile the accounts given of numerous streams with the rivers laid 
 down on modern maps. By a clear and judicious explanation, given in the recent 
 work of Don Manuel Josef Quintana, it appears that the different streams explored 
 by Vasco Nufiez and Colmenares were all branches of one grand river, which, de 
 scending from the mountains of the interior, winds about in crystal streams among 
 the plains and morasses bordering the bottom of the ?r?at te ulf of Darien, and dis 
 charges itself by various mouths into the gulf. In fact, the stream which ran by 
 the infant city of Santa Maria de la Antigua was but one of its branches, a fact en 
 tirely unknown to Vasco Nufiez and his conipar..ons. 
 
110 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 Ascending one of these minor rivers with a part of his men, 
 Vasco Nunez came to the territories of a cacique named Abi- 
 beyba, who reigned over a region of marshes and shallow lakes. 
 The habitations of the natives were built amidst the branches 
 of immense and lofty trees. They were large enough to con 
 tain whole family connexions, and were constructed partly of 
 wood, partly of a kind of wicker work, combining strength and 
 pliability, and yielding uninjured to the motion of the branches 
 when agitated by the wind. The inhabitants ascended to 
 them with great agility by light ladders, formed of great reeds 
 split through the middle, for the reeds on this coast grow to 
 the thickness of a man s body. These ladders they drew up 
 after them at night, or in case of attack. These habitations 
 were well stocked with provisions ; but the fermented bever 
 ages, of which these people had always a supply, were buried 
 in vessels in the earth at the foot of the tree, lest they should 
 be rendered turbid by the rocking of the houses. Close by, 
 also, were the canoes with which they navigated the rivers and 
 ponds of their marshy country and followed their main occu 
 pation of fishing. 
 
 On the approach of the Spaniards, the Indians took refuge in 
 their tree-built castles and drew up the ladders. The former 
 called upon them to descend and to fear nothing. Upon this 
 the cacique replied, entreating that he might not be molested, 
 seeing he had done them no injury. They threatened, unless 
 he came down, to fell the trees or to set fire to them, and burn 
 him and his wives and children. The cacique was disposed to 
 consent, but was prevented by the entreaties of his people. 
 Upon this the Spaniards prepared to hew down the trees, but 
 were assailed by showers of stones. They covered themselves, 
 however, with their bucklers, assailed the trees vigorously 
 with their hatchets, and soon compelled the inhabitants to ca 
 pitulate. The cacique descended with his wife and two of his 
 children. The first demand of the Spaniards was for gold. 
 He assured them he had none ; for, having no need of it, he had 
 never made it an object of his search. Being importuned, 
 however, he assured them that if he were permitted to repair 
 to certain mountains at a distance, he would in a few days re 
 turn and bring them what they desired. They permitted him 
 to depart, retaining his wife and children as hostages, but they 
 saw no more of the cacique. After remaining here a few days 
 and regaling on the provisions which they found in abundance, 
 they continued their foraging expeditions, often opposed by 
 
VA8CO NUNEZ DE BALBOA. H] 
 
 the bold and warlike natives, and suffering occasional loss, but 
 inflicting great havoc on their opposers. 
 
 Having thus overrun a considerable extent of country, and 
 no grand object presenting to lure him on to further enterprise, 
 Vasco Nuiiez at length returned to Darien with the spoils and 
 captives he had taken, leaving Bartolome Hurtado with thirty 
 men in an Indian village on the Rio Negro, or Black River, tc 
 hold the country in subjection. Thus terminated the first expe 
 dition in quest of the golden temple Dobayba, which for some 
 time continued to be a favourite object of enterprise among the 
 adventurers of Darien. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 DISASTER ON THE BLACK RIVER INDIAN PLOT AGAINST DARIEN. 
 
 BARTOLOME HURTADO being left to his own discretion on the 
 banks of the Black River, occupied himself occasionally in 
 hunting the scattered natives wno straggled about the sur 
 rounding forests. Saving in this way picked up twenty-four 
 captives, he put them on board of a large canoe, like so much 
 live stock, to be transported to Darien and sold as slaves. 
 Twenty of his followers who were infirm, either from wounds 
 or the diseases of the climate, embarked also in the canoe, so 
 that only ten men remained with Hurtado. 
 
 The great c0n^>?. thus heavily freighted, descended the 
 Black River slowly, between banks overhung with forests. 
 Zemaco, the indefatigable cacique of Darien, was on the watch, 
 and waylaid the ark with four canoes filled with warriors 
 armed with war clubs, and lances hardened in the fire. The 
 Spaniards being sick, could make but feeble resistance ; some 
 were massacred, others leaped into the river and were 
 drowned. Two only escaped, by clinging to two trunks of 
 trees that were floating down the river and covering them 
 selves with the branches. Reaching the shore in safety, they 
 returned to Bartolome Hurtado with the tragical tidings of the 
 death of his followers. Hurtado was so disheartened by the 
 news, and so dismayed at his own helpless situation, in the 
 midst of a hostile country, that he resolved to abandon the 
 fatal pliovcr j of the Black River and return to Darien. He was 
 quickened in this resolution by receiving intimation of a con- 
 
112 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 spiracy forming among the natives. The implacable Zemaco 
 had drawn four other caciques into a secret plan to assemble 
 their vassals and make a sudden attack upon Darien. Hurtado 
 hastened with the remnant of his followers to carry tidings to 
 the settlement of this conspiracy. Many of the inhabitants 
 were alarmed at his intelligence ; others treated it as a false 
 rumour of the Indians, and no preparations were made against 
 what might be a mere imaginary danger. 
 
 Fortunately for the Spaniards, among the female captives 
 owned by Vasco Nunez was an Indian damsel named Fulvia, 
 to whom, in consequence of her beauty, he had shown great 
 favour, and who had become strongly attached to him. She 
 had a brother among the warriors of Zemaco, who often visited 
 her in secret. In one of his visits he informed her that on a 
 certain night the settlement would be attacked and every 
 Spaniard destroyed. He charged her, therefore, to hide her 
 self that night in a certain place until he should come to her 
 aid, lest she should be slain in the confusion of the massacre. 
 
 When her brother was gone a violent struggle took place in 
 the bosom of the Indian girl, between her feeling for her 
 family and her people and her affection for Vasco Nunez. The 
 latter at length prevailed, and she revealed all that had been 
 told to her. Vasco Nunez prevailed upon her to send for her 
 brother under pretence of aiding her to escape. Having him 
 in his power, he extorted from him all that he knew of tne de 
 signs of the enemy. His confessions showed what imminent 
 danger had been lurking round Vasco Nunez in his most un 
 suspecting moments. The prisoner informed him that he had 
 been one of forty Indians sent some time before by che cacique 
 Zemaco to Vasco Nunez, in seeming friendship, GO be employed 
 by him in cultivating the fields adjacent to the settlement. 
 They had secret orders, however, to take an opportunity when 
 Vasco Nuilez should come forth to inspect their work, to set 
 upon him in an unguarded moment and destroy him. for 
 tunately, Vasco Nunez always visited the fields mounted >n 
 his war horse and armed with lance and target. The Indians 
 were therefore so awed by his martial appearance, and by the 
 terrible animal he bestrode, that they dared not attack him. 
 
 Foiled in this and other attempts of the kind, Zemaco re 
 sorted to the conspiracy with the neighbouring caciques with 
 which the settlement was menaced. 
 
 Five caciques had joined in the confederacy; they had 
 prepared a hundred canoes, had amassed provisions for an 
 
VASCO NUftEZ DE BALBOA. 113 
 
 army, and had concerted to assemble five thousand picked 
 warriors at a certain time and place ; with these they Were to 
 make an attack on the settlement by land and water in the 
 middle of the night and to slaughter every Spaniard. 
 
 Having learnt where the confederate chiefs were to be found, 
 and where they had deposited their provisions, Vasco Nunez 
 chose seventy of his best men, well-armed, and made a circuit 
 by land, while Colmenares, with sixty men, sallied forth 
 secretly in four canoes guided by the Indian prisoner. In this 
 way they surprised the general of the Indian army and several 
 of the principal confederates, and got possession of all their 
 provisions, though they failed to capture the formidable ZQ- 
 maco. The Indian general was shot to death with arrows, and 
 the leaders of the conspiracy were hanged in presence of their 
 captive followers. The defeat of this deep-laid plan and the 
 punishment of its devisers, spread terror throughout the neigh 
 bouring provinces and prevented any further attempt at hos- 
 tili: . Vasco Nunez, however, caused a strong fortress of 
 wood to be immediately erected to guard against any future 
 assaults of the savages. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 FURTHER FACTIONS IN T. COLONY ARROGANCE OF ALONZtf 
 . AND THE BACHELOR CORRAL. (1512.) 
 
 A coNSiDEitAfci^ time had now elapsed since the departure ot 
 Valdivia for Hispaniok., yet no tidings had been received from 
 him. Many began to fear that some disaster had befallen him; 
 while others insinuated that it was possible both he and Za- 
 mudio might have neglected the objects of their mission, and, 
 having appropriated to their own use the gold with which they 
 had been entrusted, might have abandoned the colony to its 
 fate. 
 
 Vasco Nunez himself was harassed by these surmises, and 
 by the dread lest the Bachelor Enciso should succeed in preju 
 dicing the mind of his sovereign against him. Impatient of 
 this state of anxious suspense, he determined to repair to 
 Spain to communicate in person all that he had heard concern 
 ing the Southern Sea, and to ask for the troops necessary for 
 its discovery. 
 
114 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 Every one, however, both friend and foe, exclaimed against 
 such a measure, representing his presence as indispensable to 
 the safety of the colony, from his great talents as a commander 
 and the fear entertained of him by the Indians. 
 
 After much debate and contention, it was at length agreed 
 that Juan de Cayzedo and Rodrigo Enriquez de Colmenares 
 should go in his place, instructed to make all necessary repre 
 sentations to the king. Letters were written also containing 
 the most extravagant accounts of the riches of the country, 
 partly dictated by the sanguine hopes of the writers, and 
 partly by the fables of the natives. The rumoured wealth of 
 the province of~Dobayba and the treasures of its golden temple 
 were not forgotten ; and an Indian was taken to Spain by the 
 commissioners, a native of the province of Zenu, where gold 
 was said to be gathered in nets stretched across the mountain 
 streams. To give more weight to all these stories, every one 
 contributed some portion of gold from his private hoard to be 
 presented to -the king in addition to the amount arising from 
 his fifths. 
 
 But little time elapsed after the departure of the commis 
 sioners when new dissensions broke out in the colony. It was 
 hardly to be expected that a fortuitous assemblage of adven 
 turers could remain long tranquil during a time of suffering 
 under rulers of questionable authority. Vasco Nunez, it is 
 true, had risen by his courage and abilities ; but he had risen 
 from among their ranks; he was, in a manner, of their own 
 creation ; and they had not become sufficiently accustomed to 
 him as a governor to forget that he was recently but a mere 
 soldier of fortune and an absconding debtor. 
 
 Their factious discontent, however, was directed at first 
 against a favourite of Vasco Nunez, rather than against him 
 self. He had invested Bartolome Hurtado, the commander of 
 the Black River, with considerable authority in the colony, 
 and the latter gave great offence by his oppressive conduct. 
 Hurtado had particularly aggrieved by his arrogance one 
 Alonzo Perez de la Rua, a touchy cavalier, jealous of his 
 honour, who seems to have peculiarly possessed the sensitive 
 punctilio of a Spaniard. Firing at some indignity, whether 
 real or fancied, Alonzo Perez threw himself into the ranks of 
 the disaffected, and was immediately chosen as their leader. 
 Thus backed by a faction, he clamoured loudly for the punish 
 ment of Hurtado; and, finding his demands unattended to, 
 threw out threats of deposing Vasco Nunez. The latter no 
 
VASCO NUNEZ DE BALBOA. 115 
 
 sooner heard of these menaces, than, with his usual spirit and 
 promptness, he seized upon the testy Alonzo Perez and threw 
 him in prison to digest his indignities and cool his passions at 
 leisure. 
 
 The conspirators flew to arms to liberate their leader. The 
 friends of Vasco Nunez were equally on the alert. The two 
 parties drew out in battle array in the public square, and a 
 sanguinary conflict was on the point of taking place. Fortu 
 nately there were some cool heads left in the colony. These 
 interfered at the critical moment, representing to the angry 
 adversaries that if they fought among themselves, and dimin 
 ished their already scanty numbers, even the conquerors must 
 eventually fall a prey to the Indians. 
 
 Their remonstrances had effect. A parley ensued, and, after 
 much noisy debate, a kind of compromise was made. Alonzo 
 Perez was liberated, and the mutineers dispersed quietly to 
 their homes. The next day, however, they were again in 
 arms, and seized upon Bartolome Hurtado; but after a little 
 while were prevailed upon to set him free. Their factious 
 views seemed turned to a higher object. They broke forth 
 into loud murmurs against Vasco Nunez, complaining that he 
 had not made a fair division of the gold and slaves taken in 
 the late expeditions, and threatening to arrest him and bring 
 him to account. Above all, they clamoured for an immediate 
 distribution of ten thousand castellanos in gold, which yet re 
 mained unshared. 
 
 Vasco Nunez understood too well the riotous nature of the 
 people under him, and his own precarious hold on their obe 
 dience, to attempt to cope with them in this moment of turbu 
 lence. He shrewdly determined, therefore, to withdraw from 
 the sight of the multitude, and to leave them to divide the 
 spoil among themselves, trusting to their own strife for his 
 security. That very night he sallied forth into the country, 
 under pretence of going on a hunting expedition. 
 
 The next morning the mutineers found themselves in pos 
 session of the field. Alonzo Perez, the pragmatical ringleader, 
 immediately assumed the command, seconded by the Bachelor 
 Corral. Their first measure was to seize upon the ten thou 
 sand castellanos, and to divide them among the multitude, by 
 way of securing their own popularity. The event proved the 
 sagacity and forethought of Vasco Nunez. Scarcely had these 
 hot-headed intermeddlers entered upon the partition of the 
 gold, than a furious strife arose. Every one was dissatisfied 
 
116 SPANISH VOYAGES Off DISCOVERT. 
 
 with his share, considering his merits entitled to peculiar rec 
 ompense. Every attempt to appease the rabble only aug 
 mented their violence, and in their rage they sworo that Vasco 
 Nunez had always shown more judgment and discrimination 
 in his distributions to men of merit. 
 
 The adherents of the latter now ventured to lift up their 
 voices; "Vasco Nunez," said they, "won the gold by his en 
 terprise and valour, and would have shared it with the brave 
 and the deserving ; but these men have seized upon it by fac 
 tious means, and would squander it upon their minions. " The 
 multitude, who, in fact, admired the soldier-like qualities of 
 Vasco Nunez, displayed one of the customary reverses of pop 
 ular feeling. The touchy Alonzo Perez, his coadjutor the 
 Bachelor Corral, and several other of the ringleaders were 
 seized, thrown in irons, and confined in the fortress; and 
 Vasco Nunez was recalled with loud acclamations to the settle 
 ment. 
 
 How long this pseudo commander might have been able to 
 manage the unsteady populace it is impossible to say, but just 
 at this juncture two ships arrived from Hispaniola, freighted 
 with supplies, and bringing a reinforcement of one hundred 
 and fifty men. They brought also a commission to Vasco 
 Nunez, signed by Miguel de Pasamonte, the royal treasurer of 
 Hispaniola, to whom he had sent a private present of gold, 
 constituting him captain-general of the colony. It is doubtful 
 whether Pasamonte possessed the power to confer such a com 
 mission, though it is affirmed that the king had clothed him 
 with it, as a kind of check upon the authority of the admiral 
 Don Diego Columbus, then Governor of Hispaniola, of whose 
 extensive sway in the new world the monarch was secretly 
 jealous. At any rate the treasurer appears to have acted in 
 full confidence of the ultimate approbation of his sovereign. 
 
 Vasco Nunez was rejoiced at receiving a commission which 
 clothed him with at least the semblance of royal sanction. 
 Feeling more assured in his situation, and being naturally of a 
 generous and forgiving temper, he was easily prevailed upon, 
 in his moment of exultation, to release and pardor) Alonzo 
 Perez, the Bachelor Corral, and the other ringleaders of the 
 late commotions, and for a time the feuds and factions of this 
 petty community were lulled to repose. 
 
VASCO NUffEZ DE BALBOA. H7 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 7ASCO NUNEZ DETERMINES TO SEEK THE SEA BEYOND THE 
 MOUNT AINS. (1 5 13. ) 
 
 THE temporary triumph of Vasco Nunez was soon overcast 
 by tidings received from Spain. His late colleague, the Alcalde 
 Zamudio, wrote him word that the Bachelor Enciso had car 
 ried Ms complaints to the foot of the throne, and suraj^ied in 
 rousing the indignation of the king, and had obtained a sen 
 tence in his favour, condemning Vasco Nuiiez in costs and 
 damages. Zamudio informed him in addition, that he would 
 be immediately summoned to repair to Spain, and answer in 
 person the criminal charges advanced against him on account 
 of the harsh treatment and probable death of the unfortunate 
 Nicuesa. 
 
 Vasco Nuiiez was at first stunned by this intelligence, which 
 seemed at one blow to annihilate all his hopes and fortunes. 
 He was a man, however, of prompt decision and intrepid 
 spirit. The information received from Spain was private and 
 informal, no order had yet arrived from the king, he was still 
 master of his actions, and had control over the colony. One 
 brilliant achievement might atone for all the past, and fix him 
 in the favour of the monarch. Such an achievement was 
 within his reach the discovery of the southern sea. It is true, 
 a thousand soldiers had been required for the expedition, but 
 were he to wait for their arrival from Spain, his day of grace 
 would be past. It was a desperate thing to undertake the task 
 with the handful of men at his command, but the circum 
 stances of the case were desperate. Fame, fortune, life itself, 
 depended upon the successful and the prompt execution of the 
 enterprise. To linger was to be lost. 
 
 Vasco Nuiiez looked round upon the crew of daring and 
 reckless adventurers that formed the colony, and chose one 
 hundred and ninety of the most resolute and vigorous, and of 
 those most devoted to his person. These he armed with swords, 
 targets, cross-bows, and arquebusses. He did not conceal 
 from them the peril of the enterprise into which he was about 
 to lead them ; but the spirit of these Spanish adventurers was 
 always roused by the idea of perilous and extravagant exploit. 
 To aid his slender forces, he took with him a number of blood- 
 
US SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 hounds, which had been found to be terrific allies in Indian 
 warfare. 
 
 The Spanish writers make particular mention of one of those 
 animals, named Leoncico, which was a constant companion, 
 and, as it were, body-guard of Vasco Nunez, and describe him 
 as minutely as they would a favourite warrior. He was of a 
 middle size.. but immensely strong: of a dull yellow or reddish 
 colour, with a black muzzle, and his body was scarred all over 
 with wounds received in innumerable battles with the Indians. 
 Vasco Nufiez always took him on his expeditions, and some 
 times 3jSb*him to others, receiving for his services the same 
 share orbooty allotted to an armed man. In this way he 
 gained by him, in the course of his campaigns, upwards of a 
 thousand crowns. The Indians, it is said, had conceived such 
 terror of this animal, that the very sight of him was sufficient 
 to put a host of them to flight.* 
 
 In addition to these forces, Vasco Nunez took with him a 
 number of the Indians of Darien, whom he had won to him by 
 kindness, and whose services were important, from their 
 knowledge of the wilderness, and of the habits and resources 
 of savage life. Such was the motley armament that set forth 
 from the little colony of Darien, under the guidance of a dar 
 ing, if not desperate commander, in quest of the great Pacific 
 Ocean. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 EXPEDITION IN QUEST OF THE SOUTHERN SEA. 
 
 IT was on the first of September that Vasco Nufiez embarked 
 with his followers in a brigantine and nine large canoes or 
 pirogues, followed by the cheers and good wishes of those who 
 remained at the settlement. Standing to the north-westward, 
 he arrived without accident at Coyba, the dominions of the 
 cacique Careta, whose daughter he had received as a pledge of 
 amity. That Indian beauty had acquired a great influence 
 over Vasco Nuiiez, and appears to have cemented his friend 
 ship with her father and her people. He was received by the 
 cacique with open arms, and furnished with guides and war 
 riors to aid him in his enterprise. 
 
 * Oviedo, Hist. Indies, p. 2, c. 3, MS. 
 
VASCO XUNUZ DE BALBOA. 119 
 
 Vasco Nunez left about half of his men at Coyba to guard 
 the brigantine and canoes, while he should penetrate the wil 
 derness with the residue. The importance of this present ex 
 pedition, not merely as affecting his own fortunes, but as it 
 were unfolding a mighty secret of nature, seems to have im 
 pressed itself upon his spirit, and to have given corresponding 
 solemnity to his conduct. Before setting out upon his march, 
 he caused mass to be performed, and offered up prayers to God 
 for the success of his perilous undertaking. 
 
 It was on the sixth of September that he struck off for the 
 mountains. The march was difficult and toilsome .in- the ex 
 treme. The Spaniards, encumbered with the weight of their 
 armour and weapons, and oppressed by the heat of a tropical 
 climate, were obliged to climb rocky precipices, and to struggle 
 through close and tangled forests. Their Indian allies aided 
 them by carrying their ammunition and provisions, and by 
 guiding them to the most practicable paths. 
 
 On the eighth of September they arrived at the village of 
 Ponca, the ancient enemy of Careta. The village was lifeless 
 and abandoned; the cacique and his people had fled to the 
 fastnesses of the mountains. The Spaniards remained here 
 several days to recruit the health of some of their number who 
 had fallen ill. It was necessary also to procure guides ac 
 quainted with the mountain wilderness they were approaching. 
 The retreat of Ponca was at length discovered, and he was pre 
 vailed upon, though reluctantly, to come to Vasco Nunez. *The 
 latter had a peculiar facility in winning the confidence and 
 friendship of the natives. The cacique was soon so captivated 
 by his kindness, that he revealed to him in secret all he knew 
 of the natural riches of the country. He assured him of the 
 truth of what had been told him about a great pechry or sea 
 beyond the mountains, and gave him several ornaments inge 
 niously wrought of fine gold, which had been brought from 
 the countries upon its borders. He told him, moreover, that 
 when he had attained the summit of a lofty ridge, to which he 
 pointed, and which seemed to rise up to the skies, he would 
 behold that sea spread out far below him. 
 
 Animated by the accounts, Vasco Nunez procured fresh 
 guides from the cacique, and prepared to ascend the moun 
 tains. Numbers of his men having fallen ill from fatigue and 
 the heat of the climate, he ordered them to return slowly to 
 Coyba, taking with him none but such as were in robust and 
 vigorous health. 
 
120 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 On the 20th of September, he again set forward through a 
 broken rocky country, covered with a matted forest, and inter 
 sected by deep and turbulent streams, many of which it was 
 necessary to cross upon rafts. 
 
 So toilsome was the journey, that in four days they did not 
 advance above ten leagues, and in the mean time they suffered 
 excessively from hunger. At the end of this time they arrived 
 at the province of a warlike cacique, named Quaraqua, who 
 was at war with Ponca. 
 
 Hearing that a band of strangers were entering his terri 
 tories, guided by the subjects of his inveterate foe, the cacique 
 took the field with a large number of warriors, some armed 
 with bows and arrows, others with long spears, or with double- 
 handed maces oi palm- wood, almost as heavy and hard as iron. 
 Seeing the inconsiderable somber of fhe Spaniards, they set 
 upon them with furiotrs yells, thinking to overcome them in 
 an instant. The first discharge of fire-arms, however, struck 
 them with dismay. They thought they were contending with 
 demons who vomited forth thunder and lightning, especially 
 when they saw their companions fall bleeding and dead beside 
 them, without receiving any apparent blow. They took to 
 headlong flight, ancT were hotly pursued by the Spaniards and 
 their bloodhounds. Some were transfixed with lances, others 
 hewn down with swords, and many were torn to pieces by the 
 dogs, so that Quaraqua and six hundred of his warriors were 
 left dead upon the field. 
 
 A brother of the cacique and several chiefs were taken pris 
 oners. They were clad in robes of white cotton. Either from 
 their effeminate dress, or from the accusations of their ene 
 mies, the Spaniards were induced to consider them guilty of 
 unnatural crimes, and, in their abhorrence and disgust, gave 
 them to be torn to pieces by the bloodhounds.* 
 
 It is also affirmed, that among the prisoners were several ne 
 groes, who had been slaves to thecacique. The Spaniards, we 
 are told, were informed by the other captives, that these black 
 men came from a region at no great distance, where there was 
 a people of that colour with whom they were frequently at 
 war. "These, "adds the Spanish writer, "were the first ne 
 groes ever found in the New World, and I believe no others 
 have since been discovered. ! 
 
 * Herrera, Hist. Ind. d. 1, 1. x. c. 1. 
 
 t Peter Martyr, in his third Decade, makes mention of these negro** in the fol- 
 
VASCO NUNEZ DE BALBOA. 
 
 After this sanguinary triumph, the Spaniards marched to 
 the village of Quaraqua, where they found considerable booty 
 in gold and jewels. Of this Vasco Nunez reserved one-fifth for 
 the crown, and shared the rest liberally among his followers. 
 The village was at the foot of the last mountain that remained 
 for them to climb ; several of the Spaniards, however, were so 
 disabled by the wounds they had received in battle, or so ex 
 hausted by the fatigue and hunger they had endured, that they 
 were unable to proceed. They were obliged, therefore, reluc 
 tantly to remain in the village, within sight of the mountain- 
 top that commanded the long-sought prospect. Vasco Nunez 
 selected fresh guides from among his prisoners, who were na 
 tives of the province, and sent back the subjects of Ponca. Of 
 the band of Spaniards who had set out with him in this enter 
 prise, sixty-seven alone remained in sufficient health and 
 spirits for this last effort. These he ordered to retire early to 
 repose, that they might be ready to set off at the cool and fresh 
 hour of day-break, so as to reach the summit of the mountain 
 before the noon-tide heat. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 DISCOVERY OF THE PACIFIC OCEAN. 
 
 THE day had scarcely dawned, when Vasco Nuilez and his 
 followers set forth from the Indian village and began to climb 
 the height. It was a severe and rugged toil for men so way 
 worn, but they were filled with new ardour at the idea of the 
 triumphant scene that was so soon to repay them for all their 
 hardships. 
 
 About ten o clock in the morning they emerged from the 
 thick forests through which they had hitherto struggled, and 
 arrived at a lofty and airy region of the mountain. The bald 
 
 lowing words: "About two days 1 journey distant from Quaraqua is a regio n in 
 habited only by black Moors, exceeding fierce and cruel. It is supposed that in 
 time past certain black Moors sailed thither out of Ethiopia, to rob, and that by 
 shipwreck, or some other chance, they were driven to these mountains." As Mar 
 tyr lived and wrote at the time, he of course related the mere rumour of the day, 
 which all subsequent accounts have disproved. The other historians who men 
 tioned the circumstance, have probably repeated it from him. It must have risen 
 from some misrepresentation, and is not entitled to credit. 
 
122 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 summit alone remained to be ascended, and their guides 
 pointed to a moderate eminence from which they said the 
 southern sea was visible. 
 
 Upon this Vasco Nunez commanded his followers to halt, 
 and that no man should stir from his place. Then, with a 
 palpitating heart, he ascended alone the bare mountain-top. 
 On reaching the summit the long-desired prospect burst upon 
 his view. It was as if a new world were unfolded to him, 
 separated from all hitherto known by this mighty barrier of 
 mountains. Below him extended a vast chaos of rock and 
 forest, and green savannahs and wandering streams, while at 
 a distance the waters of the promised ocean glittered in the 
 morning sun. 
 
 At this glorious prospect Vasco Nunez sank upon his knees, 
 and poured out thanks to God for being the first European to 
 whom it was given to make that great discovery. He then 
 called his people to ascend: "Behold, my friends," said he, 
 that glorious sight which we have so much desired. Let us 
 give thanks to God that he has granted us this great honour 
 and advantage. Let us pray to him that he will guide and aid 
 us to conquer the sea and land which we have discovered, and 
 in which Christian has never entered to preach the holy doc 
 trine of the Evangelists. As to yourselves, be as you have 
 hitherto been, faithful and true to me, and by the favour of 
 Christ you will become the richest Spaniards that have ever 
 come to the Indies ; you will render the greatest services to 
 your king that ever vassal rendered to his lord ; and you will 
 have the eternal glory and advantage of all that is here dis 
 covered, conquered, and converted to our holy Catholic faith. " 
 
 The Spaniards answered this speech by embracing Vasco 
 Nunez and promising to follow him to death. Among them 
 was a priest, named Andres de Vara, who lifted up his voice 
 and chanted Te Deuin laudamus the usual anthem of Spanish 
 discoverers. The people, kneeling down, joined in the strain 
 with pious enthusiasm and tears of joy ; and never did a more 
 sincere oblation rise to the Deity from a sanctified altar than 
 from that wild mountain summit. It was indeed one of the 
 most sublime discoveries that had yet been made in the New 
 World, and must have opened a boundless field of conjecture 
 to the wondering Spaniards. The imagination delights to pic 
 ture forth the splendid confusion of their thoughts. Was this 
 the great Indian Ocean, studded with precious islands, abound 
 ing in gold, in gems, and spices, and bordered by the gorgeous 
 
VASCO NUNEZ DE BALBOA. 123 
 
 cities and wealthy marts of the East? Or was it some lonely 
 sea locked up in the embraces of savage uncultivated conti 
 nents, and never traversed by a bark, excepting the light 
 pirogue of the Indian? The latter could hardly be the case, 
 for the natives had told the Spaniards of golden realms, and 
 populous and powerful and luxurious nations upon its shores. 
 Perhaps it might be bordered by various people, civilized in 
 fact, but differing from Europe in their civilization ; who might 
 have peculiar laws and customs and arts and sciences; who 
 might form, as it were, a world of their own, intercommuning 
 by this mighty sea, and carrying on commerce between their 
 own islands and continents ; but who might exist in total igno 
 rance and independence of the other hemisphere. 
 
 Such may naturally have been the ideas suggested by the 
 sight of this unknown ocean. It was the prevalent belief of 
 the Spaniards, however, that they were the first Christians 
 who had made the discovery. Vasco Nunez, therefore, called 
 upon all present to witness that he took possession of that sea, 
 its islands, and surrounding lands, in the name of the sov 
 ereigns of Castile, and the notary of the expedition made a 
 testimonial of the same, to which all present, to the number of 
 sixty-seven men, signed their names. He then caused a fair 
 and tall tree to be cut down and wrought into a cross, which 
 was elevated on the spot from whence he had at first beheld 
 the sea. A mound of stones was likewise piled up to serve as 
 a monument, and the names of the Castilian sovereigns were 
 caryed on the neighbouring trees. The Indians beheld all these 
 ceremonials and rejoicings in silent wonder, and, while they 
 aided to erect the cross and pile up the mound of stones, 
 marvelled exceedingly at the meaning of these monuments 
 little thinking that they marked the subjugation of their land. 
 
 The memorable even-fc here recorded took place on the 26th 
 of September, 1513; so that the Spaniards had been twenty 
 days performing the journey from the province of Careta to 
 the summit of the mountain, a distance which at present, it is 
 said, does not require more than six days travel. Indeed the 
 isthmus in this neighbourhood is not more than eighteen 
 leagues in breadth in its widest part, and in some places 
 merely seven ; but it consists of a ridge of extremely high and 
 rugged mountains. When the discoverers traversed it, they 
 had no route but the Indian paths, and often had to force their 
 way amidst all kinds of obstacles, both from the savage 
 country and its savage inhabitants, ID fact the details of 
 
124 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 this narrative sufficiently account for the slowness of then 
 progress, and present an array of difficulties and perils which, 
 as has been well observed, none but those " men of iron" could 
 have subdued and overcome.* 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 VASCO NUNEZ MARCHES TO THE SHORES OF THE SOUTH SEA. 
 
 HAVING taken possession of the Pacific Ocean and all its 
 realms from the summit of the mountain, Vasco Nunez now 
 descended with his little band to seek the regions of reputed 
 wealth upon its shores. He had not proceeded far when he 
 came to the province of a warlike cacique, named Chiapes, 
 who, issuing forth at the head of his warriors, looked w r ith 
 scorn upon the scanty number of ctraggling Spaniards, and 
 forbade them to set foot within his territories. Vasco Nunez 
 depended for safety upon his power of striking terror into the 
 ignorant savages. Ordering his arquebusiers to the front, he 
 poured a volley into the enemy, and then let loose the blood 
 hounds. The flash and noise of the fire-arms, and the sul 
 phurous smoke which was carried by the wind among the 
 Indians, overwhelmed them with dismay. Some fell down in 
 a panic as though they had been struck by thunderbolts, the 
 rest betook themselves to headlong flight. 
 
 Vasco Nuilez commanded his men to refrain from needless 
 slaughter. He made many prisoners, and on arriving at the 
 village, sent some of them in search of their Cacique, accom 
 panied by several of his Indian guides. The latter informed 
 Chiapes of the supernatural power of the Spaniards, assuring 
 him that they exterminated with thunder and lightning all 
 who dared to oppose them, but loaded all such as submitted 
 to them with benefits. They advised him, therefore, to throw 
 himself upon their mercy and seek their friendship. 
 
 The cacique listened to their advice, and came trembling to 
 the Spaniards, bringing with him five hundred pounds weight 
 of wrought gold as a peace offering, for he had already learnt 
 the value they set upon that metal. Vasco Nufiez received 
 
 * Vidas de Espanoles Cek-bres, por Don Manuel Josef Quintana. Tom. ii. p. 40. 
 
VASCO NUNEZ DE BALBOA. 125 
 
 him with great kindness, and graciously accepted his gold, 
 for which he gave him beads, hawks bells, and looking-glasses, 
 making him, in his own conceit, the richest potentate on that 
 side of the mountains. 
 
 Friendship being thus established between them, Vasco 
 Nuiiez remained at the village for a few days, sending back 
 the guides who had accompanied him from Quaraqua, and 
 ordering his people, whom he had left at that place, to rejoin 
 him. In the mean time he sent out three scouting parties, of 
 twelve men each, under Francisco Pizarro, Juan de Escary, 
 and Alonzo Martin de Don Benito, to explore the surrounding 
 country and discover the best route to the sea. Alonzo Martin 
 was the most successful. After two days journey he came to 
 a beach, where he found two large canoes lying high and dry, 
 without any water being in sight. While the Spaniards were 
 regarding these canoes, and wondering why they should be so 
 far on land, the tide, which rises to a great height on that 
 coast, came rapidly in and set them afloat ; upon this, Alonzo 
 Martin stepped into one of them, and called his companions to 
 bear witness that he was the first European that embarked upon 
 that sea ; his example was followed by one Bias de Etienza, who 
 called them likewise to testify that he was the second.* 
 
 We mention minute particulars of the kind as being charac 
 teristic of these extraordinary enterprises, and of the extra 
 ordinary people who undertook them. The humblest of these 
 Spanish adventurers seemed actuated by a swelling and 
 ambitious spirit, that rose superior at times to mere sordid 
 considerations, and aspired to share the glory of these great 
 discoveries. The scouting party having thus explored a direct 
 route to the sea coast, returned to report their success to their 
 commander. 
 
 Vasco Nuiiez being rejoined by his men from Quaraqua, now 
 left the greater part of his followers to repose and recover from 
 their sickness and fatigues in the village of Chiapes, and, 
 taking with him twenty-six Spaniards, well armed, he set ou^ 
 on the twenty-ninth of September, for the sea coast, accom 
 panied by the cacique and a number of his warriors. The 
 thick forest which covered the mountains descend I to the 
 very margin of the sea, surrounding and overshadowing the 
 wide and beautiful bays that penetrated far into the land. 
 The whole coast, as far as the eye could reach, was perfectly 
 
 * Hen-era, Hist. Ind. d. i. 1. x. c. 2. 
 
126 /SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCO VERT. 
 
 wild, the sea without a sail, and both seemed never to have 
 been under the dominion of civilized man. 
 
 Vasco Nunez arrived on the borders of one of those vast 
 bays, to which he gave the name of Saint Michael, it being 
 discovered on that saint s day. The tide was out, the water 
 was above half a league distant, and the intervening beach 
 was covered with mud ; he seated himself, therefore, under the 
 shade of the forest trees until the tide should rise. After a 
 while the water came rushing in with great impetuosity, and 
 soon reached nearly to the place where the Spaniards were 
 reposing. Upon this, Vasco Nunez rose and took a banner, on 
 which were painted the Virgin and child, and under them the 
 arms of Castile and Leon; then drawing his sword and throw 
 ing his buckler on his shoulder, he marched into the sea until 
 the water reached above his knees, and waving his banner, ex 
 claimed, with a loud voice, "Long live the high and mighty 
 monarchs, Don Ferdinand and Donna Juanna, sovereigns of 
 Castile, of Leon, and of Arragon, in whose name, and for the 
 royal crown of Castile, I take real, and corporal, and actual 
 possession of these seas, and lands, and coasts, and ports, and 
 islands of the South, and all thereunto annexed; and of the 
 kingdoms and provinces which do or may appertain to them 
 in whatever manner, or by whatever right or title, ancient or 
 modern, in times past, present, or to come, without any con 
 tradiction and if other prince or captain, Christian or infidel, 
 or of any law, sect, or condition whatsoever, shall pretend any 
 right to these lands and seas, I am ready and prepared to 
 maintain and defend them in the name of the Castilian sov 
 ereigns, present and future, whose is the empire and dominion 
 over these Indias, islands, and terra firma, northern and 
 southern, with all their seas, both at the arctic and antarctic 
 poles, on either side of the equinoxial line, whether within or 
 without the tropics of Cancer and Capricorn, both now and in 
 all times, as long as the world endures, and until the final day 
 of judgment of all mankind." 
 
 This swelling declaration and defiance being uttered with a 
 loud voice, and no one appearing to dispute his pretensions, 
 Vasco Nunez called upon his companions to bear witness of the 
 fact of his having duly taken possession. They all declared 
 themselves ready to defend his claim to the uttermost, as be 
 came true and loyal vassals to the Castilian sovereigns ; and 
 the notary having drawn up a document for the occasion, they 
 all subscribed it with their names. 
 
VASCO NUNEZ DE E ALSO A. 127 
 
 This done, they advanced to the margin of the sea, and 
 stooping down tasted its waters. When they found, that, 
 though severed by intervening mountains and continents, they 
 were salt like the seas of the north, they felt assured that 
 they had indeed discovered an ocean, and again returned 
 thanks to God. 
 
 Having concluded all these ceremonies, Vasco Nunez drew a 
 dagger from his girdle and cut a cross on a tree which grew 
 within the water, and made two other crosses on two adjacent 
 trees in honour of the Three Persons of the Trinity, and in 
 token of possession. His followers likewise cut crosses on 
 many of. the trees of the adjacent forest, and lopped off 
 branches with their swords to bear away as trophies. * 
 
 Such was the singular medley of chivalrous and religious 
 ceremonial with which these Spanish adventurers took pos 
 session of the vast Pacific Ocean, and all its lands a scene 
 strongly characteristic of the nation and the age. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 ADVENTURES OF VASCO NUNEZ ON THE BORDERS OF THE PACIFIC 
 
 OCEAN. 
 
 WHILE he made the village of Chiapes his headquarters, 
 Vasco Nuiiea foraged the adjacent country and obtained a 
 considerable quantity of gold from the natives. Encouraged 
 by his success, he undertook to explore by sea the borders of a 
 neighbouring gulf of great extent, which penetrated far into 
 the land. The cacique Chiapes warned him of the danger of 
 venturing to sea in the stormy season, which comprises the 
 months of October, November, and December, assuring him 
 that he had beheld many canoes swallowed up in the mighty 
 waves and whirlpools, which at such times render the gulf 
 almost unnavigable. 
 
 These remonstrances were unavailing: Vasco Nuilez ex 
 pressed a confident belief that God would protect him, seeing 
 that his voyage was to redound to the propagation of the faith, 
 
 * Many of the foregoing particulars are from the unpublished volume of Oviedo s 
 History of the Indias. 
 
128 SPANISH VOYAGES OP DISCOVERT. 
 
 and the augmentation of the power of the Castilian monarchs 
 over the infidels ; and in truth this bigoted reliance on the im 
 mediate protection of heaven seems to have been in a great 
 measure the cause of the extravagant daring of the Spaniards 
 in their expeditions in those days, whether against Moors or 
 Indians. 
 
 Seeing his representations of no effect, Chiapes volunteered 
 to take part in this perilous cruise, lest he should appear want 
 ing in courage, or in good-will to his guest. Accompanied 
 by the cacique, therefore, Vasco Nufiez embarked on the 17th 
 of October with sixty of his men in nine canoes, managed by 
 Indians, leaving the residue of his followers to recruit their 
 health and strength in the village of Chiapes. 
 
 Scarcely, however, had they put forth on the broad bosom 
 of the gulf when the wisdom of the cacique s advice was made 
 apparent. The wind began to blow freshly, raising a heavy 
 and tumultuous sea, which broke in roaring and foaming 
 surges on the rocks and reefs, and among the numerous islets 
 with which the gulf was studded. The light canoes were 
 deeply laden with men unskilled in their management. It was 
 frightful to those in one canoe to behold their "companions, one 
 instant tossed on high on the breaking crest of a wave, the 
 next plunging out of sight, as if swallowed in a watery abyss, 
 The Indians themselves, though almost amphibious in their 
 habits, showed signs of consternation ; for amidst these rocks 
 and breakers even the skill of the expert swimmer would be 
 of little avail. At length the Indians succeeded in tying the 
 canoes in pairs, side by side, to prevent their being overturned, 
 and in this way they kept afloat, until towards evening they 
 were enabled to reach a small island. Here they landed, and 
 fastening the canoes to the rocks, or to small trees that grew 
 upon the shore, they sought an elevated dry place, and 
 stretched themselves to take repose. They had but escaped 
 from one danger to encounter another. Having been for a 
 long time accustomed to the sea on the northern side of the 
 isthmus, where there is little, if any, rise or fall of the tide, 
 they had neglected to take any precaution against such an oc 
 currence. In a little while they were awakened from their 
 sleep by the rapid rising of the water. They shifted their sit 
 uation to a higher ground, but the waters continued to gain 
 upon them, the breakers rushing and roaring and foaming 
 upon the beach like so many monsters of the deep seeking for 
 their prey. Nothing, it is said, can be more dismal and ap 
 
VASCO XUNKZ DE BALBOA. 129 
 
 palling than the sullen bellowing of the sea among the islands 
 of that gulf at the rising and falling of the tide. By degrees, 
 rock after rock, and one sand bank after another disappeared, 
 until the sea covered the whole island, and rose almost to the 
 girdles of the Spaniards. Their situation was now agonizing. 
 A little more and the waters would overwhelm them ; or, even 
 as it was, the least surge might break over them and sweep 
 them from their unsteady footing. Fortunately the wind had 
 lulled, and the sea, having risen above the rocks which had 
 fretted it. was calm. The tide had reached its height and 
 began to subside, and after a time they heard the retiring 
 waves beating against the rocks below them. 
 
 When the day dawned they sought their canoes ; but here a 
 sad spectacle met their eyes. Some were broken to pieces, 
 others yawning open in many parts. The clothing and food 
 left in them had been washed away, and replaced by sand and 
 water. The Spaniards gazed on the scene in mute despair; 
 they were faint and weary, and needed food and repose, but 
 famine and labour awaited them, even if they should escape 
 with their lives. Vasco Nuiiez, however, rallied their spirits, 
 and set them an example by his own cheerful exertions. Obey 
 ing his directions, they set to work to repair, in the best man 
 ner they were able, the damages of the canoes. Such as were 
 not too much shattered they bound and braced up with their 
 girdles, with slips of tjie bark of trees, or with the tough long 
 stalks of certain sea-weeds. They then peeled off the bark 
 from the small sea plants, pounded it between stones, and mixed 
 it with grass, and with this endeavoured to caulk the seams 
 and stop the leaks that remained. When they re-embarked, 
 their numbers weighed down the canoes almost to the water s 
 edge, and as they rose and sank with the swelling waves there 
 was danger of their being swallowed up. All day they laboured 
 with the sea, suffering excessively from the pangs of hunger 
 and thirst, and at nightfall they landed in a corner of the gulf, 
 near the abode of a cacique named Tumaco. Leaving a part of 
 his men to guard the canoes, Vasco Nunez set out with the 
 residue for the Indian town. He arrived there about midnight, 
 but the inhabitants were on the alert to defend their habita 
 tions. The fire-arms and dogs soon put them to flight, and the 
 Spaniards pursuing them with their swords, drove them howl 
 ing into the woods. In the village were found provisions in 
 abundance, beside a considerable amount of gold and a great 
 quantity of pearls, many of them of a large size. In the house 
 
130 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 of the cacique were several huge shells of mother-of-pearl, and 
 four pearl oysters quite fresh, which showed that there was a 
 pearl fishery in the neighbourhood. Eager to learn the sources 
 of this wealth, Vasco Nunez sent several of the Indians of 
 Chiapes in search of the cacique, who traced him to a wild re 
 treat among the rocks. By their persuasions Tiimaco sent his 
 son, a fine young savage, as a mediator. The latter returned 
 to his father loaded with presents, and extolling the benignity 
 of these superhuman beings, who had shown themselves so ter 
 rible in battle. By these means, and by a mutual exchange of 
 presents, a friendly intercourse was soon established. Among 
 other things the cacique gave Vasco Nunez jewels of gold 
 weighing six hundred and fourteen crowns, and two hundred 
 pearls of great size and beauty, excepting that they were some 
 what discoloured in consequence of the oysters having been 
 opened by fire. 
 
 The cacique seeing the value which the Spaniards set upon 
 the pearls, sent a number of his men to fish for them at a place 
 about ten miles distant. Certain of the Indians were trained 
 from their youth to this purpose, so as to become expert divers, 
 and to acquire the power of remaining a long time beneath the 
 water. The largest pearls are generally found in the deepest 
 waters, sometimes in three and four fathoms, and are only 
 sought in calm weather; the smaller sort are found at the 
 depth of two and three feet, and the oysters containing them 
 are often driven in quantities on the beach during violent 
 storms. 
 
 The party of pearl divers sent by the cacique consisted of 
 thirty Indians, with whom Vasco Nuilez sent six Spaniards as 
 eye-witnesses. The sea, however, was so furious at that 
 stormy season that the divers dared not venture into the deep 
 water. Such a number of the shell-fish, however, had been 
 driven on shore, that they collected enough to yield pearls to 
 the value of twelve marks of gold. They were small, but ex 
 ceedingly beautiful, being newly taken and uninjured by fire. 
 A number of these shell-fish and their pearls were selected to 
 be sent to Spain as specimens. 
 
 In reply to the inquiries of Vasco Nunez, the cacique informed 
 him that the coast which he saw stretching to the west con 
 tinued onwards without end, and that far to the south there 
 was a country abounding in gold, where the inhabitants made 
 use of certain quadrupeds to carry burthens. He moulded a 
 figure of clay to represent these animals, which some of the 
 
VAXL U AL S L Z DE BALBOA. 131 
 
 Spaniards supposed to be a deer, others a camel, others a tapir, 
 for as yet they knew nothing of the lama, the native beast of 
 burthen of South America. This was the second intimation 
 received by Vasco Nunez of the great empire of Peru ; and, 
 while it confirmed all that had been told him by the son of 
 Comagre, it filled him with glowing anticipations of the glori 
 ous triumphs that awaited him. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 FURTHER ADVENTURES AND EXPLOITS OF VASCO NUNEZ ON THE 
 BORDERS OF THE PACIFIC OCEAN. 
 
 LEST any ceremonial should be wanting to secure this grand 
 discovery to the crown of Spain, Vasco Nunez determined to 
 sally from the gulf and take possession of the main land be 
 yond. The cacique Tumaco furnished him with a canoe of 
 state, formed from the trunk of an enormous tree, and managed 
 by a great number of Indians. The handles of the paddles 
 were inlaid with small pearls, a circumstance which Vasco 
 Nufiez caused his companions to testify before the notary, that 
 it might be reported to the sovereigns as a proof of the wealth 
 of this newly discovered sea. * 
 
 Departing in the canoe on the 29th of October, he was piloted 
 cautiously by the Indians along the borders of the gulf, over 
 drowned lands where the sea was fringed by inundated forests 
 and as still as a pool. Arrived at the point of the gulf, Vasco 
 Nufiez landed on a smooth sandy beach, laved by the waters 
 of the broad ocean, and, with buckler on arm, sword in hand, 
 and banner displayed, again marched into the sea and took 
 possession of it, with like ceremonials to those observed in the 
 Gulf of St. Michael s. 
 
 The Indians now pointed to a line of land rising above the 
 horizon about four or five leagues distant, which they described 
 as being a great island, the principal one of an archipelago. 
 The whole group abounded with pearls, but those taken on the 
 coasts of this island were represented as being of immense size, 
 many of them as large as a man s eye, and found in shell-fish as 
 
 * Oviedo, Hist. Gen. p. 2, MS. 
 
132 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 big as bucklers. This island and the surrounding cluster of 
 small ones, they added, were under the dominion of a tyranni 
 cal and puissant cacique, who often, during the calm seasons, 
 made descents upon the main land with fleets of canoes, plun 
 dering and desolating the coasts, and carrying the people into 
 captivity. 
 
 Vasco Nunez gazed with an eager and wistful eye at this 
 land of riches, and would have immediately undertaken an ex 
 pedition to it, had not the Indians represented the danger of 
 venturing on such a voyage in that tempestuous season in their 
 frail canoes. His own recent experience convinced him of the 
 wisdom of their remonstrances. He postponed his visit, there 
 fore, to a future occasion, when, he assured his allies, he would 
 avenge them upon this tyrant invader, and deliver their coasts 
 from his maraudings. In the mean time he gave to this island 
 the name of Isla Rica, and the little archipelago surrounding it 
 the general appellation of the Pearl Islands. 
 
 On the third of November Vasco Nunez departed from the 
 province of Tumaco, to visit other parts of the coast. He em 
 barked with his men in the canoes, accompanied by Chiapes 
 and his Indians, and guided by the son of Tumaco, who had 
 become strongly attached to the Spaniards. The young man 
 piloted them along an arm of the sea, wide in some places, but 
 in others obstructed by groves of mangrove trees, which grew 
 within the water and interlaced their branches from shore to 
 shore, so that at times the Spaniards were obliged to cut a pas 
 sage with their swords. 
 
 At length they entered a great and turbulent river, which 
 they ascended with difficulty, and early the next morning 
 surprised a village on its banks, making the cacique Teao- 
 chan prisoner ; who purchased their favour and kind treatment 
 by a quantity of gold and pearls, and an abundant supply of 
 provisions. As it was the intention of Vasco Nunez to aban 
 don the shores of the Southern Ocean at this place, and to 
 strike across the mountains for Darien, he took leave of 
 Chiapes and of the youthful son of Tumaco, who were to re 
 turn to their houses in the canoes. He sent at the same time 
 a message to his men, whom he had left in the village of 
 Chiapes, appointing a place in the mountains where they were 
 to rejoin him on his way back to Darien. 
 
 The talent of Vasco Nuiiez for conciliating and winning the 
 good -will of the savages is often mentioned, and to such a de 
 gree had he exerted it in the present instance, that the two 
 
VASCO NUNEZ DE BALBOA. 333 
 
 chieftains shed tears at parting. Their conduct had a favour 
 able effect upon the cacique Teaochan ; he entertained Vasco 
 Nuiiez with the most devoted hospitality during three days 
 that he remained in his village ; when about to depart he fur 
 nished him with a stock of provisions sufficient for several 
 days, as his route would lay over rocky and sterile mountains. 
 He sent also a numerous band of his subjects to carry the bur 
 thens of the Spaniards. These he placed under the command 
 of his son, whom he ordered never to separate from the stran 
 gers, nor to permit any of his* men to return without the con 
 sent of Vasco Nunez. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 VASCO NUNEZ SETS OUT ON HIS RETURN ACROSS THE MOUNTAINS 
 HIS CONTESTS WITH THE SAVAGES. 
 
 TURNING their backs upon the Southern Sea, the Spaniards 
 now began painfully to clamber the rugged mountains on their 
 return to Darien. 
 
 In the early part of their route an unlooked-for suffering 
 awaited them : there was neither brook nor fountain nor stand 
 ing pool. The burning heat, which produced intolerable thirst, 
 had dried up all the mountain torrents, and they were tanta 
 lized by the sight of naked and dusty channels where water 
 had once flowed in abundance. Their sufferings at length in 
 creased to such a height that many threw themselves fevered 
 and panting upon the earth> and were ready to give up the 
 ghost. The Indians, however, encouraged them to proceed, 
 by hopes of speedy relief, and after a while, turning aside 
 from the direct course, led them into a deep and narrow glen, 
 refreshed and cooled by a fountain which bubbled out of a cleft 
 of the rocks. 
 
 While refreshing themselves at the fountain, and reposing in 
 the little valley, they learnt from their guides that they were 
 in the territories of a powerful chief named Poncra, famous 
 for his riches. The Spaniards had already heard of the golden 
 stores of this Crossus of the mountains, and being now re 
 freshed and invigorated, pressed forward with eagerness for 
 his village. 
 
134 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 The cacique and most of his people fled at their approach, 
 but they found an earnest of his wealth in the deserted houses, 
 amounting to the value of three thousand crowns in gold. 
 Their avarice thus whetted, they despatched Indians in search 
 of Poncra, who found him trembling in his secret retreat, and 
 partly by threats, partly by promises, prevailed upon him and 
 three of his principal subjects to come to Vasco Nunez. He 
 was a savage, it is said, so hateful of aspect, so misshapen in 
 body and deformed in all his members, that he was hideous to 
 behold. The Spaniards endeavoured by gentle means to draw 
 from him information of the places from whence he had pro 
 cured his gold. He professed utter ignorance in the matter, 
 declaring that the gold found in his village had been gathered 
 by his predecessors in times long past, and that as he himself 
 set no value on the metal, he had never troubled himself to 
 seek it. The Spaniards resorted to menaces, and even, it is 
 said, to tortures, to compel him to betray his reputed treasures, 
 but with no better success. Disappointed in their expecta 
 tions, and enraged at his supposed obstinacy, they listened too 
 readily to charges advanced against him by certain caciques 
 of the neighbourhood, who represented him as a monster of 
 cruelty, and as guilty of crimes repugnant to nature ;* where 
 upon, in the heat of the moment, they gave him and his three 
 companions, who were said to be equally guilty, to be torn in 
 pieces by the dogs. A rash and cruel sentence, given on the 
 evidence of avowed enemies ; arid which, however it may be 
 palliated by the alleged horror and disgust of the Spaniards at 
 the imputed crimes of the cacique, bears too much the stamp 
 of haste and passion, and remains a foul blot on the character 
 of Vasco Nunez. 
 
 The Spaniards remained for thirty days reposing in the vil 
 lage of the unfortunate Poncra, during which time they were 
 rejoined by their companions, who had been left behind at the 
 village of Chiapes. They were accompanied by a cacique of 
 the mountains, who had lodged and fed them, and made them 
 presents of the value of two thousand crowns in gold. This 
 hospitable savage approached Vasco Nunez with a serene 
 countenance, and taking him by the hand, "Behold," said he, 
 " most valiant and powerful chief, I bring thee thy companions 
 safe and well, as they entered under my roof. May he who 
 made the thunder and lightning, and who gives us the fruits 
 
 * P. Martyr, d. iii. c. 2, 
 
VASCO NUNEZ DE BALBOA. 135 
 
 of the earth, preserve thee and thine in safety !" So saying, 
 he raised his eyes to the sun, as if he worshipped that as his 
 deity and the dispenser of all temporal blessings.* 
 
 Departing from this village, and being still accompanied by 
 the Indians of Teaochan, the Spaniards now bent their course 
 along the banks of the river Comagre, which descends the 
 northern side of the Isthmus, and flows through the territories 
 of the cacique of the same name. This wild stream, which 
 in the course of ages had worn a cnannel through the deep 
 clefts and ravines of the mountains, was bordered by preci 
 pices, or overhung by shagged forests; they soon abandoned 
 it, therefore, and wandered on without any path, but guided 
 by the Indians. They had to climb terrible precipices, and to 
 descend into deep valleys, darkened by thick forests and beset 
 by treacherous morasses, where, but for their guides, they 
 might have been smothered in the mire. 
 
 In the course of this rugged journey they suffered excessive 
 ly in consequence of their own avarice. They had been warned 
 of the sterility of the country they were about to traverse, and 
 of the necessity of providing amply for the journey. When they 
 came to lade the Indians, however, who bore their burdens, 
 their only thought was how to convey the most treasure ; and 
 they grudged even a slender supply of provisions, as taking up 
 the place of an equal weight of gold. The consequences were 
 soon felt. The Indians could carry but small burthens, and at 
 the same time assisted to consume the scanty stock of food 
 which formed part of their load. Scarcity and famine ensued, 
 and relief was rarely to be procured, for the villages on this 
 elevated part of the mountains were scattered and poor, and 
 nearly destitute of provisions. They held no communication 
 with each other ; each contenting itself with the scanty prod 
 uce of its own fields and forest. Some were entirely deserted ; 
 at other places, the inhabitants, forced from their retreats, 
 implored pardon, and declared they had hidden themselves 
 through shame, not having the means of properly entertaining 
 such celestial visitors. They brought peace-offerings of gold, 
 but no provisions. For once the Spaniards found that even 
 their darling gold could fail to cheer their drooping spirits. 
 Their sufferings from hunger became intense, and many of 
 their Indian companions sank down and perished by the way. 
 At length they reached a village where they were enabled to 
 
 * Herrera, d. i. 1. x. c. 4. 
 
136 8PAX.ISII VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 obtain supplies, and where they remained thirty days, to re 
 cruit their wasted strength. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ENTERPRISE AGAINST TUBANAMA, THE WARLIKE CACIQUE OF THE 
 MOUNTAINS RETURN TO DARIEN. 
 
 THE Spaniards had now to pass through the territories of 
 Tubanama, the most potent and warlike cacique of the moun 
 tains. This was the same chieftain of whom a formidable 
 character had been given by the young Indian prince, who 
 first informed Vasco Nunez of the southern sea. He had erro 
 neously represented the dominions of Tubanama as lying be 
 yond the mountains ; and, when he dwelt upon the quantities 
 of gold to be found in them, had magnified the dangers that 
 would attend any attempt to pass their borders. The name of 
 this redoubtable cacique was, in fact, a terror throughout the 
 country ; and, when Vasco Nunez looked round upon his hand 
 ful of pale and emaciated followers, he doubted whether even 
 the superiority of their weapons and their military skill would 
 enable them to cope with Tubanama and his armies in open 
 contest. He resolved, therefore, to venture upon a perilous 
 stratagem. When he made it known to his men, every one 
 pressed forward to engage in it. Choosing seventy of the most 
 vigorous, he ordered the rest to maintain their post in the vil 
 lage. 
 
 As soon as night had fallen, he departed silently and secretly 
 with his chosen band and made his way with such rapidity 
 through the labyrinths of the forests and the defiles of the 
 mountains that he arrived in the neighbourhood of the resi 
 dence of Tubanama by the following evening, though at the 
 distance of two regular days journey. 
 
 There, waiting until midnight, he assailed the village sud 
 denly and with success, so as to surprise and capture the 
 cacique and his whole family, in which were eighty females. 
 When Tubanama found himself a prisoner in the hands of the 
 Spaniards, he lost all presence of mind and wept bitterly. The 
 Indian allies of Vasco Nuiiez, beholding their once-dreaded 
 enemy thus fallen and captive, now urged that he should ba 
 
VASCO NV3KZ DE BALBOA. 137 
 
 put to death, accusing him of various crimes and cruelties. 
 Vasco Nunez pretended to listen to their prayers, and gave 
 orders that his captive should be tied hand and foot and given 
 to the dogs. The cacique approached him trembling, and laid 
 his hand upon the pommel of his sword. "Who can pretend," 
 said he, to strive with one who bears this weapon, which can 
 cleave a man asunder with a blow? Ever since thy fame has 
 reached among these mountains have I reverenced thy valour. 
 Spare my life and thou shalt have all the gold I can procure. " 
 
 Vasco Nuiiez, whose anger was assumed, was readily paci 
 fied. As soon as the day dawned the cacique gave him arm 
 lets and other jewels of gold to the value of three thousand 
 crowns, and sent messengers throughout his dominions order 
 ing his subjects to aid in paying his ransom. The poor In 
 dians, with their accustomed loyalty, hastened in crowds, 
 bringing their golden ornaments, until, in the course of three 
 days, they had produced an amount equal to six thousand 
 crowns. This done, Vasco Nunez set the cacique at liberty, 
 bestowing on him several European trinkets, with which he 
 considered himself richer than he had been with all his gold. 
 Nothing would draw from him, however, the disclosure of the 
 mines from whence this treasure was procured. He declared 
 that it came from the territories of his neighbours, where gold 
 and pearls were to be found in abundance ; but that his lands 
 produced nothing of the kind. Vasco Nuiiez doubted his sin 
 cerity, and secretly caused the brooks and rivers in his domin 
 ions to be searched, where gold was found in such quantities, 
 that he determined at a future time to found two settlements 
 in the neighbourhood. 
 
 On parting with Tubanama, the cacique sent his son with the 
 Spaniards to learn their language and religion. It is said, also, 
 that the Spaniards carried off his eighty women ; but of this par 
 ticular fact, Oviedo, who writes with the papers of Vasco Nunez 
 before him, says nothing. He affirms generally, however, that 
 the Spaniards, throughout this expedition, were not scrupulous 
 in their dealings with the wives and daughters of the Indians ; 
 and adds that in this their commander set them the example.* 
 
 Having returned to the village, where he had left the greater 
 part of his men, Vasco Nuiiez resumed his homeward march. 
 His people were feeble and exhausted and several of them sick, 
 so that some had to be carried and others led by the arms. He 
 
 * Oviedo, Hist. Gen. Part II. c. 4, MS. 
 
138 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 himself was part of the time afflicted by a fever, and had to be 
 borne in a hammock on the shoulders of the Indians. 
 
 Proceeding thus slowly and toilfully, they at length arrived 
 on the northern sea-coast, at the territories of their ally, Co- 
 niagre. The old cacique was dead and had been succeeded by 
 his son, the same intelligent youth who had first given infor 
 mation of the southern sea and the kingdom of Peru. The 
 young chief, who had embraced Christianity, received them 
 with great hospitality, making them presents of gold. Vasco 
 Nuilez gave him trinkets in return and a shirt and a soldier s 
 cloak ; with which, says Peter Martyr, he thought himself half 
 a god among his naked countrymen. After having reposed for 
 a few days, Vasco Nunez proceeded to Ponca, where he heard 
 that a ship and caravel had arrived at Darien from Hispaniola 
 with reinforcements and supplies. Hastening, therefore, to 
 Coyba, the territories of his ally, Careta, he embarked on the 
 18th of January, 1514, with twenty of his men, in the brigan- 
 tine which he had left there, and arrived at Santa Maria de la 
 Antigua in the river of Darien on the following day. All the 
 inhabitants came forth to receive him ; and, when they heard 
 the news of the great southern sea, and of his returning from 
 its shores laden with pearls and gold, there were no bounds to 
 their joy. He immediately despatched the ship and caravel to 
 Coyba for the companions he had left behind, who brought 
 with them the remaining booty, consisting of gold and pearls, 
 mantles, hammocks, and other articles of cotton, and a great 
 number of captives of both sexes. A fifth of the spoil was set 
 apart for the crown ; the rest was shared, in just proportions, 
 among those who had been in the expedition and those who 
 had remained at Darien. All were contented with their allot 
 ment, and elated with the prospect of still greater gain from 
 future enterprises. 
 
 Thus ended one of the most remarkable expeditions of the 
 early discoverers. The intrepidity of Vasco Nunez in pene 
 trating with a handful of men far into the interior of a wild 
 and mountainous country, peopled by warlike tribes : his skill 
 in managing his band of rough adventurers, stimulating their 
 valour, enforcing their obedience, and attaching their affec 
 tions, show him to have possessed great qualities as a general. 
 We are told that he was always foremost in peril and the last 
 to quit the field. He shared the toils and dangers of the mean 
 est of his followers, treating them with frank affability ; watch 
 ing, fighting, fasting, and labouring with them; visiting and 
 
VASCO NUNEZ DE BALBOA. 139 
 
 consoling such as were sick or infirm, and dividing all his 
 gains with fairness and liberality. He was chargeable at times 
 with acts of bloodshed and injustice, but it is probable that 
 these were often called for as measures of safety and precau 
 tion ; he certainly offended less against humanity than most of 
 the early discoverers; and the unbounded amity and confi 
 dence reposed in him by the natives, when they became inti 
 mately acquainted with his character, speak strongly in 
 favour of his kind treatment of them. 
 
 The character of Vasco Nuiiez had, in fact, risen with his 
 circumstances, and now assumed a nobleness and grandeur 
 from the discovery he had made, and the important charge it 
 had devolved upon him. He no longer felt himself a mere 
 soldier of fortune, at the head of a band of adventurers, but a 
 great commander conducting an immortal enterprise. "Be 
 hold," says old Peter Martyr, "Vasco Nunez de Balboa, at 
 once transformed from a rash royster to a politic and discreet 
 captain :" and thus it is that men are often made by their for 
 tunes; that is to say, their latent qualities are brought out, 
 and shaped and strengthened by events, and by the necessity 
 of every exertion to cope with the greatness of their destiny. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 TRANSACTIONS IN SPAIN PEDRARIAS DA VILA APPOINTED TO THE 
 COMMAND OF DARIEN TIDINGS RECEIVED IN SPAIN OF THE 
 DISCOVERY OF THE PACIFIC OCEAN. 
 
 VASCO NUNEZ de Balboa now nattered himself that he had 
 made a discovery calculated to silence all his enemies at court, 
 and to elevate him to the highest favour with his sovereign. 
 He wrote letters to the king, giving a detail of his expedition, 
 and setting forth all that he had seen or heard of this Southern 
 Sea, and of the rich countries upon its borders. Beside the 
 royal fifths of the profits of the expedition, he prepared a 
 present for the sovereign, in the name of himself and his com 
 panions, consisting of the largest and most precious pearls 
 they had collected. As a trusty and intelligent envoy to bear 
 these tidings, he chose Pedro de Arbolancha, an old and tried 
 friend, who had accompanied him in his toils and dangers, 
 and was well acquainted with ah 1 his transactions. 
 
140 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 The fate of Vasco Nunez furnishes a striking instance 
 prosperity and adversity, how even life and death hang bal 
 anced upon a point of time, and are affected by the improve 
 ment or neglect of moments. Unfortunately, the ship which 
 was to convey the messenger to Spain lingered in port until 
 the beginning of March ; a delay which had a fatal influence 
 on the fortunes of Vasco Nunez. It is necessary here to cast 
 an eye back upon the events which had taken place in Spain 
 while he was employed in his conquests and discoveries. 
 
 The Bachelor Enciso had arrived in Castile full of his wrongs 
 and indignities. He had friends at court, who aided him in 
 gaining a ready hearing, and he lost not a moment in availing 
 himself of it. He declaimed eloquently upon the alleged usur 
 pation of Vasco Nunez, and represented him as governing the 
 colony by force and fraud. It was in vain that the Alcalde 
 Zamudio, the ancient colleague and the envoy of Vasco Nuiiez, 
 attempted to speak in his defence ; he was unable to cope with 
 the facts and arguments of the Bachelor, who was a pleader 
 by profession, and now pleaded his own cause. The king de 
 termined to send a new governor to Darien with power to in 
 quire into and remedy all abuses. For this office he chose 
 Don Pedro Arias Davila, commonly called Pedrarias.* He 
 was a native of Segovia, who had been brought up in the royal 
 household, .and had distinguished himself as a brave soldier, 
 both in the war in Granada and at the taking of Oran and 
 Bugia in Africa. He possessed those personal accomplish 
 ments which captivate the soldiery, and was called el Galan, 
 for his gallant array and courtly demeanour, and el Justador, 
 or the Tilter, for his dexterity in jousts and tournaments. 
 These, it must be admitted, were not the qualifications most 
 adapted for the government of rude and factious colonies in a 
 wilderness; but he had an all-powerful friend in the Bishop 
 Eonseca. The Bishop was as thoroughgoing in patronage as 
 in persecution. He assured the king that Pedrarias had un 
 derstanding equal to his valour; that he was as capable of 
 managing the affairs of peace as of war, and that, having been 
 brought up in the royal household, his loyalty might be im 
 plicitly relied on. 
 
 Scarcely had Don Pedrarias been appointed, when Cayzedo 
 and Colmenares arrived on their mission from Darien, to 
 communicate the intelligence received from the son of the 
 
 * By the English historians he has generally been called Davila. 
 
VASCO NU&EZ D& BALBOA. 141 
 
 cacique Comagre, of the Southern Sea beyond the mountains, 
 and to ask one thousand men to enable Vasco Nuiiez to make 
 the discovery. 
 
 The avarice and ambition of Ferdinand were inflamed by 
 the tidings. Ke rewarded the bearers of the intelligence, and, 
 after consulting with Bishop Fonseca, resolved to despatch 
 immediately a powerful armada, with twelve hundred men, 
 under the command of Pedrarias, to accomplish the enterprise. 
 
 Just about this time the famous Gonsalvo Hernandez de 
 Cordova, commonly called the Great Captain, was preparing 
 to return to Naples, where the allies of Spain had experienced 
 a signal defeat, and had craved the assistance of this renowned 
 general to retrieve their fortunes. The chivalry of Spain 
 thronged to enlist under the banner of Gonsalvo. The Span 
 ish nobles, with their accustomed prodigality, sold or mort 
 gaged their estates to buy gorgeous armour, silks, brocades, 
 and other articles of martial pomp and luxury, that they 
 might figure, with becoming magnificence, in the campaigns 
 of Italy. The armament was on the point of sailing for 
 Naples with this host of proud and gallant spirits, when the 
 jealous mind of Ferdinand took offence at the enthusiasm thus 
 shown towards his general, and he abruptly countermanded 
 the expedition. The Spanish cavaliers were overwhelmed 
 with disappointment at having their dreams of glory thus 
 suddenly dispelled ; when, as if to console them, the enterprise 
 of Pedrarias was set on foot, and opened a different career of 
 adventure. The very idea of an unknown sea and splendid 
 empire, where never European ship had sailed or foot had 
 trodden, broke upon the imagination with the vague wonders 
 of an Arabian tale. Even the countries already known, in the 
 vicinity of the seUfclement of Darien, were described in the 
 usual terms of exaggeration. Gold was said to lie on the 
 surface of the ground, or to be gathered with nets out of 
 the brooks and rivers; insomuch that the region hitherto 
 called Terra Firma now received the pompous and delusive 
 appellation of Castilla del Oro, or Golden Castile. 
 
 Excited by these reports, many of the youthful cavaliers, 
 who had prepared for the Italian campaign, now offered 
 themselves as volunteers to Don Pedrarias. He accepted 
 their services, and appointed Seville as the place of assem 
 blage. The streets of that ancient city soon swarmed with 
 young and noble cavaliers splendidly arrayed, full of spirits, 
 and eager for the sailing of the Indian armada. Pedrarias, 
 
SPANISH VOYAGES OP DISCOVERY. 
 
 on his arrival at Seville, made a general review of his forces, 
 and was embarrassed to find that the number amounted to 
 three thousand. He had been limited in his first armament 
 to twelve hundred; on representing the nature of the case, 
 however, the number was extended to fifteen hundred; but 
 through influence, entreaty, and stratagem, upwards of two 
 thousand eventually embarked.* Happy did he think him 
 self who could in any manner, and by any means, get ad 
 mitted on board of the squadron. Nor was this eagerness 
 for the enterprise confined merely to young and buoyant 
 and ambitious adventurers; we are told that there were 
 ir any covetous old men, who offered to go at their own 
 expense, without seeking any pay from the king. Thus 
 every eye was turned with desire to this squadron of mod 
 ern Argonauts, .as it lay anchored on the bosom of the 
 Guadalquiver. 
 
 The pay and appointments of Don Pedrarias Davila were 
 on the most liberal scale, and no expense was spared in fit 
 ting out the armament ; for the objects of the expedition were 
 both colonization and conquest. Artillery and powder were 
 procured from Malaga. Beside the usual weapons, such as 
 muskets, cross-bows, swords, pikes, lances, and Neapolitan 
 targets, there was armour devised of quilted cotton, as being 
 light and better adapted to the climate, and sufficiently proof 
 against the weapons of the Indians; and wooden bucklers 
 from the Canary Islands, to ward off the poisoned arrows of 
 the Caribs. 
 
 Santa Maria de la Antigua was, by royal ordinance, elevated 
 into the metropolitan city of Golden Castile, and a Franciscan 
 friar, named Juan de Quevedo, was appointed as bishop, with 
 powers to decide in all cases of conscience. A number of 
 friars were nominated to accompany him, and he was pro 
 vided with the necessary furniture and vessels for a chapel. 
 
 Among the various regulations made for the good of the 
 infant colony, it was ordained that no lawyers should be 
 admitted there, it having been found at Hispaniola and else 
 where, that they were detrimental to the welfare of the settle 
 ments, by fomenting disputes and litigations. The judicial 
 affairs were to be entirely confided to the Licentiate Gaspar 
 de Espinosa, who was to officiate as Alcalde Mayor or chief 
 judge. 
 
 * Oviedo, 1. ii., c. 7, MS. 
 
VASCO NUftEZ DE BALBOA. 143 
 
 Don Pedrarias had intended to leave his wife in Spain. Her 
 name was Doiia Isabella de.Bobadilla; she was niece to the 
 Marchioness de Moya, a great favourite of the late Queen 
 Isabella, who had been instrumental in persuading her royal 
 mistress to patronize Columbus.* Her niece partook of her 
 high and generous nature. She refused to remain behind in 
 selfish security, but declared that she would accompany her 
 husband in every peril, whether by sea or land. This self- 
 devotion is the more remarkable when it is considered that 
 she was past the romantic period of youth ; and that she had a 
 family of four sons and four daughters, whom she left behind 
 her in Spain. 
 
 Don Pedrarias was instructed to use great indulgence 
 towards the people of Darien, who had been the followers of 
 Nicuesa, and to remit the royal tithe of all the gold they might 
 have collected previous to his arrival. Towards Vasco Nunez 
 de Balboa alone the royal countenance was stern and severe. 
 Pedrarias was to depose him from his assumed authority, and 
 to call him to strict account before the Alcalde Mayor, Gaspar 
 de Espinosa, for his treatment of the Bachelor Enciso. 
 
 The splendid fleet, consisting of fifteen sail, weighed anchor 
 at St. Lucar on the 12th of April, 1514, and swept proudly out 
 of the Guadalquiver, thronged with the chivalrous adventurers 
 for Golden Castile. But a short time had elapsed after its 
 departure, when Pedro Arbolancho arrived with the tardy 
 missions of Vasco Nunez. Had he arrived a few days sooner, 
 how different might have been the fortunes of his friend ! 
 
 He was immediately admitted to the royal presence, where 
 he announced the adventurous and successful expedition of 
 Vasco Nuiiez, and laid before the king the pearls and golden 
 ornaments which he had brought as the first fruits of the dis 
 covery. King Ferdinand listened with charmed attention to 
 this tale of unknown seas and wealthy realms added to his 
 empire. It filled, in fact, the imaginations of the most sage 
 and learned with golden dreams, and anticipations of un 
 bounded riches. Old Peter Martyr, who received letters 
 from his friends in Darien, and communicated by word of 
 mouth with those who came from thence, writes to Leo the 
 Tenth in exulting terms of this event. "Spain," says he, 
 
 * This was the same Marchioness de Moya, who during the war of Granada, 
 while the court and royal army were encamped before Malaga, was mistahen for 
 the queen by a Moorish fanatic, and Lad nearly fallen beneath his dagger. 
 
144 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 "will hereafter be able to satisfy with pearls the greedy 
 appetite of such as in wanton pleasures are like unto Cleo 
 patra and ^Esopus ; so that henceforth we shall neither envy 
 nor reverence the nice fruitfulness of Trapoban or the Eed 
 Sea. The Spaniards will not need hereafter to mine and dig 
 far into the earth, nor to cut asunder mountains in quest of 
 gold, but will find it plentifully, in a manner, on the upper 
 crust of the earth, or in the sands of rivers dried up by the 
 heats of summer. Certainly the reverend antiquity obtained 
 not so great a benefit of nature, nor even aspired to the know 
 ledge thereof, since never man before, from the known world, 
 penetrated to these unknown regions." * 
 
 The tidings of this discovery at once made all Spain resound 
 with the praises of Vasco Nunez ; and from being considered a 
 lawless and desperate adventurer, he was lauded to the skies 
 as a worthy successor to Columbus. The king repented of 
 the harshness of his late measures towards him, and ordered 
 the Bishop Foiiseca to devise some mode of rewarding his 
 transcendent services. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 ARRIVAL AND GRAND ENTRY OF DON PEDRARIAS DAVILA INTO 
 
 DARIEN. 
 
 WHILE honours and rewards were preparing in Europe for 
 Vasco Nunez, that indefatigable commander, inspired by his 
 fortunes, with redoubled zeal and loftier ambition, was exercis 
 ing the paternal forethought and discretion of a patriotic 
 governor over the country subjected to his rule. His most 
 strenuous exertions were directed to bring the neighbourhood 
 of Darien into such a state of cultivation as might render the 
 settlement independent of Europe for supplies. The town was 
 situated on the banks of a river, and contained upwards of 
 two hundred houses and cabins. Its population amounted to 
 five hundred and fifteen Europeans, all men, and fifteen hun 
 dred Indians, male and female. Orchards and gardens had 
 been laid out, where European as well as native fruits and 
 vegetables were cultivated, and already gave promise of future 
 
 * P. Martyr, decad. 3> chap. iii. Lok s translation. 
 
VASGO NUNEZ DE BALBOA. 145 
 
 abundance. Yasco Nunez devised all kinds of means to keep 
 up the spirits of his people. On holidays they had their 
 favourite national sports and games, and particularly tilting 
 matches, of which chivalrous amusement the Spaniards in 
 those days were extravagantly fond. Sometimes he gratified 
 their restless and roving habits by sending them on expedi 
 tions to various parts of the country, to acquire a knowledge 
 of its resources, and to strengthen his sway over the natives. 
 He was so successful in securing the amity or exciting the awe 
 of the Indian tribes, that a Spaniard might go singly about 
 the land in perfect safety; while his own followers were 
 zealous in their devotion to him, both from admiration of his 
 past exploits and from hopes of soon being led by him to new 
 discoveries and conquests. Peter Martyr, in his letter to Leo 
 the Tenth, speaks in high terms of these old soldiers of 
 Daricn," the remnants of those well-tried adventurers who had 
 followed the fortunes of Ojeda, Nicuesa, and Vasco Nunez. 
 4 They were hardened," says he, "to abide all sorrows, and 
 were exceedingly tolerant of labour, heat, hunger, and watch 
 ing, insomuch that they merrily make their boast that they 
 have observed a longer and sharper Lent than ever your 
 Holiness enjoined, since, for the space of four years, their food 
 has been herbs and fruits, with now and then fish, and very 
 seldom flesh."* 
 
 Such were the hardy and well-seasoned veterans that were 
 under the sway of Vasco Nunez ; and the colony gave signs of 
 rising in prosperity under his active and fostering manage 
 ment, when in the month of June the fleet of Don Pedrarias 
 Davila arrived in the Gulf of Uraba. 
 
 The Spanish cavaliers who accompanied the new governor 
 were eager to get on shore, and to behold the anticipated 
 wonders of the land; but Pedrarias, knowing the resolute 
 character of Vasco Nunez, and the devotion of his followers, 
 apprehended some difficulty in getting possession of the colony. 
 Anchoring, therefore, about a league and a half from the settle 
 ment, he sent a messenger on shore to announce his arrival. 
 The envoy, having heard so much in Spain of the prowess and 
 exploits of Vasco Nunez and the riches of Golden Castile, 
 expected, no doubt, to find a blustering warrior, maintaining 
 barbaric state in the government which he had usurped. 
 Great was his astonishment, therefore, to find this redoubta- 
 
 * P. Martyr, decad. 3, c. iii. Lok s translation. 
 
146 SPANISH VOYAGKS OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 ble hero a plain, unassuming man, clad in a cotton frock and 
 drawers, and hempen sandals, directing and aiding the labour 
 of several Indians who were thatching a cottage in which he 
 resided. 
 
 The messenger approached him respectfully, and announced 
 the arrival of Don Pedrarias Davila as governor of the country. 
 
 Whatever Vasco Nunez may have felt at this intelligence, 
 he suppressed his emotions, and answered the messenger with 
 great discretion : "Tell Don Pedrarias Davila, " said he, "that 
 he is welcome,, that 1 congratulate him on his safe arrival, and 
 am ready, with all who are here, to obey his orders." 
 
 The little community of rough and daring adventurers was 
 immediately in an uproar when they found a new governor 
 had arrived. Some of the most zealous adherents of Vasco 
 Nuiiez were disposed to sally forth, sword in hand, and repel 
 the intruder ; but they were restrained by their more consider 
 ate chieftain, who prepared to receive the new governor with 
 all due submission. 
 
 Pedrarias disembarked on the thirtieth of June, accom 
 panied by his heroic wife, Dona Isabella; who, according to old 
 Peter Martyr, had sustained the roarings and rages of the 
 ocean with no less stout courage than either her husband or 
 even the mariners who had been brought up among the surges 
 of the sea. 
 
 Pedrarias set out for the embryo city at the head of two 
 thousand men, all well armed. He led his wife by the hand, 
 and on the other side of him was the bishop of Darien in his 
 robes; while a brilliant train of youthful cavaliers, in glittering 
 armour and brocade, formed a kind of body-guard. 
 
 All this pomp and splendour formed a striking contrast with 
 the humble state of Vasco Nuiiez, who came forth unarmed, 
 in simple attire, accompanied by his councillors and a handful 
 of the "old soldiers of Darien," scarred and battered, and 
 grown half wild in Indian warfare, but without weapons, and 
 in garments much the worse for wear, 
 
 Vasco Nunez saluted Don Pedrarias Davila with profound 
 reverence, and promised him implicit obedience, both in his 
 own name and in the name of the community. Having en 
 tered the town, he conducted his distinguished guests to his 
 straw-thatched habitation, where he had caused a repast to be 
 prepared of such cheer as his means afforded, consisting of 
 roots and fruits, maize and casava bread, with no other bever 
 age than water from the river; a sorry palace and a meagre 
 
VASCO A US ti/ DE KALUGA. 147 
 
 banquet in the eyes of the gay cavaliers, who had anticipated 
 far other things from the usurper of Golden Castile. Vasco 
 Nunez, however, acquitted himself in his humble wigwam 
 with the courtesy and hospitality of a prince, and showed that 
 the dignity of an entertainment depends more upon the giver 
 than the feast. In the meantime a plentiful supply of European 
 provisions was landed from the fleet, and a temporary abund 
 ance was diffused through the colony. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 PERFIDIOUS CONDUCT OF DON PEDRARIAS TOWARDS VASCO 
 
 NUNEZ. 
 
 ON the day after his entrance into Darien, Don Pedrarias 
 held a private conference with Vasco Nuiiez in presence of the 
 historian Oviedo, who had come out from Spain as the public 
 notary of the colony. The governor commenced by assuring: 
 him that he was instructed by the king to treat him with great 
 favour and distinction, to consult him about the affairs of the 
 colony, and to apply to him for information relative to the 
 surrounding country. At the same time he professed the most 
 amicable feelings on his own part, and an intention to be 
 guided by his counsels in all public measures. 
 
 Vasco Nuiiez was of a frank, confiding nature, and was so 
 captivated by this unexpected courtesy and kindness, that he 
 threw off all caution and reserve, and opened his whole soul to 
 the politic courtier. Pedrarias availed himself of this com 
 municative mood to draw from him a minute and able state 
 ment in writing, detailing the circumstances of the colony, and 
 the information collected respecting various parts of the coun 
 try ; the route by which he had traversed the mountains ; his 
 discovery of the South Sea; the situation and reputed wealth 
 of the Pearl Islands ; the rivers and ravines most productive of 
 gold ; together with the names and territories of the various 
 caciques with whom he had made treaties. 
 
 When Pedrarias had thus beguiled the unsuspecting soldier 
 of all the information necessary for his purposes, he dropped 
 the mask, and within a few days proclaimed a judicial scrutiny 
 into the conduct of Vasco Nuiiez and his officers. It was to 
 
1 48 Sl AXISll VO YA G ES OF DISCO VEll Y. 
 
 be conducted by the Licentiate Gaspar de Espinosa, who had 
 come out as Alcalde Mayor, or chief judge. The Licentiate was 
 an inexperienced lawyer, having but recently left the univer 
 sity of Salamanca. He appears to have been somewhat flexi 
 ble in his opinions, and prone to be guided or governed by 
 others. At the outset of his career he was much under the 
 influence of Quevedo, the Bishop of Darien. Now, as Vasco 
 Nunez knew the importance of this prelate in the colony, he 
 had taken care to secure him to his interests by paying him 
 the most profound deference and respect, and by giving him a 
 share in his agricultural enterprises and his schemes of traffic. 
 In fact, the good bishop looked upon him as one eminently cal 
 culated to promote his temporal prosperity, to which he was 
 by no means insensible. Under the influence of the prelate, 
 therefore, the Alcalde commenced his investigation in the most 
 favourable manner. He went largely into an examination 
 of the discoveries of Vasco Nunez, and of the nature and 
 extent of his various services. The governor was alarmed at 
 the course which the inquiry w T as taking. If thus conducted, 
 it would but serve to illustrate the merits and elevate the repu 
 tation of the man whom it was his interest and intent to ruin. 
 To counteract it he immediately set on foot a secret and invid 
 ious course of interrogatories of the followers of Nicuesa and 
 Ojeda, to draw from them testimony which might support the 
 charge against Vasco Nunez of usurpation and tyrannical abuse 
 of power. The bishop and the Alcalde received information of 
 this inquisition, carried on thus secretly, and without their 
 sanction. They remonstrated warmly against it, as an infringe 
 ment of their rights, being coadjutors in the government; and 
 they spurned the testimony of the followers of Ojeda and 
 Nicuesa, as being dictated and discoloured by ancient enmity. 
 Vasco Nuiiez was, therefore, acquitted by them of the crimi 
 nal charges made against him, though he remained involved in 
 difficulties from the suits brought against him by individuals, 
 for losses and damages occasioned by his measures. 
 
 Pedrarias was incensed at this acquittal, and insisted upon 
 the guilt of Vasco Nuiiez, which he pretended to have estab 
 lished to his conviction by his secret investigations ; and he 
 even determined to send him in chains to Spain, to be tried for 
 the death of Nicuesa, and for other imputed offences. 
 
 It was not the inclination or the interest of the bishop that 
 Vasco Nunez should leave the colony ; he therefore managed 
 to awaken the jealous apprehensions of the governor as to the 
 
VA8CO NUffEZ DE BALBOA. 149 
 
 effect of his proposed measure. He intimated that the arrival 
 of Vasco Nunez in Spain would be signalized by triumph 
 rather than disgrace. By that time his grand discoveries 
 would be blazoned to the world, and would atone for all his 
 faults. He would be received with enthusiasm by the nation, 
 with favour by the king, and would probably be sent back to 
 the colony clothed with new dignity and power. 
 
 Pedrarias was placed in a perplexing dilemma by these sug 
 gestions; his violent proceedings against Vasco Nunez were 
 also in some measure restrained by the influence of his wife, 
 Dona Isabel de Bobadilla, who felt a great respect and sympathy 
 for the discoverer. In his perplexity, the wily governor 
 adopted a middle course. He resolved to detain Vasco Nunez 
 at Darien under a cloud of imputation, which would gradually 
 impair his popularity ; while his patience and means would be 
 silently consumed by protracted and expensive litigation. In 
 the mean time, however, the property which had been seques 
 trated was restored to him. 
 
 While Pedrarias treated Vasco Nuiiez with this severity, he 
 failed not to avail himself of the plans of that able commander. 
 The first of these was to establish a line of posts across the 
 mountains between Darien and the South Sea. It was his 
 eager desire to execute this before any order should arrive 
 from the king in favour of his predecessor, in order that he 
 might have the credit of having colonized the coast, and Vasco 
 Nunez merely that of having discovered and visited it.* 
 Before he could complete these arrangements, however, 
 unlooked-for calamities fell upon the settlement, that for a 
 time interrupted every project, and made every one turn his 
 thoughts merely to his own security. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 CALAMITIES OP THE SPANISH CAVALIERS AT DARIEN. 
 
 THE town of Darien was situated in a deep valley surrounded 
 by lofty hills, which, while they kept off the breezes so grate 
 ful in a sultry climate, reflected and concentrated the rays of 
 the sun, insomuch that at noontide the heat was insupportable ; 
 
 * Oviedo, Hist. Ind., p. 2, c. 8. 
 
150 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 the river which passed it was shallow, with a muddy channel 
 and bordered by marshes ; overhanging forests added to the 
 general humidity, and the very soil on which the town was 
 built was of such a nature, that on digging to the depth of a 
 foot there would ooze forth brackish water.* 
 
 It is not matter of surprise that a situation of this kind, in a 
 tropical climate, should be fatal to the health of Europeans. 
 Many of those who had recently arrived were swept off 
 speedily; Pedrarias himself fell sick and was removed, with 
 most of his people, to a healthier spot on the river Corobari ; 
 the malady, however, continued to increase. The provisions 
 which had been brought out in the ships had been partly dam 
 aged by the sea, the residue grew scanty, and the people were 
 put upon short allowance ; the debility thus produced increased 
 the ravages of the disease ; at length the provisions were ex 
 hausted and the horrors of absolute famine ensued. 
 
 Every one was more or less affected by these calamities; 
 even the veterans of the colony quailed beneath them ; but to 
 none were they more fatal than to the crowd of youthful cava 
 liers who had once glittered so gaily about the streets of 
 Seville, and had come out to the new world elated with the 
 most sanguine expectations. From the very moment of their 
 landing they had been disheartened at the savage scenes 
 around them, and disgusted with the squalid life they were 
 doomed to lead. They shrunk with disdain from the labours 
 with which alone-wealth was to be procured in this land of 
 gold and pearls, and were impatient of the humble exertions 
 necessary for the maintenance of existence. As the famine 
 increased, their case became desperate ; for they were unable 
 to help themselves, and their rank and dignity commanded 
 neither deference nor aid at a time when common misery 
 made every one selfish. Many of them, who had mortgaged 
 estates in Spain to fit themselves out sumptuously for their 
 Italian campaign, now perished for lack of food. Some would 
 be seen bartering a robe of crimson silk, or some garment ot 
 rich brocade, for a pound of Indian bread or European biscuit ; 
 others sought to satisfy the cravings of hunger with the herbs 
 and roots of the field, and one of the principal cavaliers abso 
 lutely expired of hunger in the public streets. 
 
 In this wretched way, and in the short space of one month, 
 perished seven hundred of the little army of youthful and 
 
 * P. Martyr, decad. 3, c. vi. 
 
VASCO NUfiKZ DK BALBOA. 151 
 
 buoyant spirits who had embarked with Pedrarias. Tho 
 bodies of some remained for a day or two without sepulture, 
 their friends not having sufficient strength to bury them. 
 Unable to remedy the evil, Pedrarias gave permission for his 
 men to flee from it. A ship-load of starving adventurers 
 departed for Cuba, where some of them joined the standard of 
 Diego Velasquez, who was colonizing that island ; others made 
 their way back to Spain, where they arrived broken in health, 
 in spirits, arid in fortune. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 FRUITLESS EXPEDITION OF PEDRARIAS. 
 
 THE departure of so many hungry mouths was some tem 
 porary relief to the colony ; and Pedrarias, having recovered 
 from his malady, bestirred himself to send expeditions in vari 
 ous directions for the purpose of foraging the country and 
 collecting the treasure. 
 
 These expeditions, however, were entrusted to his own 
 favourites a*id partisans; while Vasco Nunez, the man most 
 competent to carry them into effect, remained idle and neg 
 lected. A judicial inquiry, tardily carried on, overshadowed 
 him, and though it substantiated nothing, served to embarrass 
 his actions, to cool his friends, and to give him the air of a 
 public delinquent. Indeed, to the other evils of the colony was 
 now added that of excessive litigation, arising out of the dis 
 putes concerning the government of Vasco Nufiez, and which 
 increased to such a degree, that according to the report of the 
 Alcalde Espinosa, if the law-suits should be divided among the 
 people, at least forty would fall to each man s share.* This 
 too was in a colony into which the government had com 
 manded that no lawyer should be admitted. 
 
 Wearied and irritated by the check which had been given to 
 his favourite enterprises, and confident of the ultimate appro 
 bation of the king, Vasco Nunez now determined to take his 
 fortunes in his own hands, and to prosecute in secret his grand 
 project of exploring the regions beyond the mountains. For 
 
 * Herrera, detad. 2, 1. i. c. I. 
 
152 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DLSCOVKliY. 
 
 this purpose he privately despatched one Andres Garabito to 
 Cuba to enlist men, and to make the requisite provisions for an 
 expedition across the isthmus, from Nombre de Dios, and for 
 the founding a colony on the shores of the Southern Ocean, 
 from whence he proposed to extend his discoveries by sea and 
 land. 
 
 While Vasco Nunez awaited the return of Garabito, he had 
 the mortification of beholding various of his colonizing plans 
 pursued and marred by Pedrarias. Among other enterprises, 
 the governor despatched his lieutenant-general, Juan de 
 Ayora, at the head of four hundred men, to visit the provinces 
 of those caciques with whom Vasco Nunez had sojourned and 
 made treaties on his expedition to the Southern Sea. Ayora 
 partook of the rash and domineering spirit of Pedrarias, and 
 harassed and devastated the countries which be pretended to 
 explore. He was received with amity and confidence by vari 
 ous caciques who had formed treaties with Vasco Nunez; but 
 he repaid their hospitality with the basest ingratitude, seizing 
 upon their property, taking from them their wives and 
 daughters, and often torturing them to make them reveal their 
 hidden or supposed treasures. Among those treated with this 
 perfidy, we grieve to enumerate the youthful cacique who first 
 gave Vasco Nunez information of the sea beyond the moun 
 tains. 
 
 The enormities of Ayora and of other captains of Pedrarias 
 produced the usual effect ; the natives were roused to desper 
 ate resistance; caciques who had been faithful friends, were 
 converted into furious enemies, and the expedition ended in 
 disappointment and disaster. 
 
 The adherents of Vasco Nunez did not fail to contrast these 
 disastrous enterprises with those which had been conducted 
 with so much glory and advantage by their favourite com 
 mander ; and their sneers and reproaches had such an effect 
 upon the jealous and irritable disposition of Pedrarias, that he 
 determined to en ploy their idol in a service that would be 
 likely to be attended with defeat and to impair his popularity. 
 None seemed more fitting for the purpose than an expedition 
 to Dotayba, where he had once already attempted in vain to* 
 penetrate, and where so many of his followers had fallen vic< 
 tims to the stratagems and assaults of the natives. 
 
VASCO NUREZ DE BALBOA. 153 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 SECOND EXPEDITION OF VASCO NUNEZ IN QUEST OF THE GOLD 
 TEMPLE OF DOBAYBA. 
 
 THE rich mines of Dobayba and the treasures of its golden 
 temple had continued to form a favourite theme with the 
 Spanish adventurers. It was ascertained that Vasco Nunez 
 had stopped short of the wealthy region on his former expedi 
 tion, and had mistaken a frontier village for the residence of 
 the cacique. The enterprise of the temple was therefore still 
 to be achieved ; and it was solicited by several of the cavaliers 
 in the train of Pedrarias with all the chivalrous ardour of that 
 romantic age. Indeed, common report had invested the enter 
 prise with difficulties and danger sufficient to stimulate the am 
 bition of the keenest seeker of adventure. The savages x who 
 inhabited that part of the country were courageous and adroit. 
 They fought by water as well as by land, forming ambuscades 
 with their canoes in the bays and rivers. The country was 
 intersected by dreary fens and morasses, infested by all kinds 
 of reptiles. Clouds of gnats and musquitoes filled the air; 
 there were large bats also, supposed to have the baneful prop 
 erties of the vampire ; alligators lurked in the waters, and the 
 gloomy recesses of the fens were said to be the dens of dra 
 gons ! * 
 
 Besides these objects of terror, both true and fabulous, the 
 old historian, Peter Martyr, makes mention of another mon 
 strous animal said to infest this golden region, and which 
 deserves to be cited, as showing the imaginary dangers with 
 which the active minds of the discoverers peopled the unex 
 plored wilderness around them. 
 
 According to the tales of the Indians, there had occurred 
 shortly before the arrival of the Spaniards a violent tempest, 
 or rather hurricane, in the neighbourhood of Dobayba, which 
 demolished houses, tore up trees by the roots, and laid waste 
 whole forests. When the tempest had subsided, and the af 
 frighted inhabitants ventured to look abroad, they found that 
 two monstrous animals had been brought into the country by 
 the hurricane. According to their accounts, they were not 
 
 * P, Martyr, 
 
154 SPANISH VOYAGL S OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 Unlike the ancient harpies, and one being smaller than the 
 other was supposed to be its young. They had the faces of 
 women, with the claws and wings of eagles, and were of such 
 prodigious size that the very boughs of the trees on which they 
 alighted broke beneath them. They would swoop down and 
 carry off a man as a hawk would bear off a chicken, flying 
 with him to the tops of the mountains, where they would tear 
 him in pieces and devour him. For some time they were the 
 scourge and terror of the land, until the Indians succeeded in 
 killing the old one by stratagem, and hanging her on their long 
 spears, bore her through all the towns to assuage the alarm of 
 the inhabitants. The younger harpy, says the Indian tradi 
 tion, was never seen afterwards.* 
 
 Such were some of the perils, true and fabulous, with which 
 the land of Dobayba was said to abound ; and, in fact, the very 
 Indians had such a dread of its dark and dismal morasses, 
 that in their journeyings they carefully avoided them, prefer 
 ring the circuitous and rugged paths of the mountains. 
 
 Several of the youthful cavaliers, as has been observed, were 
 stimulated, rather than deterred, by these dangers, and con 
 tended for the honour of the expedition ; but Pedrarias selected 
 his rival for the task, hoping, as has been hinted, that it would 
 involve him in disgrace. Vasco Nuiiez promptly accepted the 
 enterprise, for his pride was concerned in its success. Two 
 hundred resolute men were given to him for the purpose ; but 
 his satisfaction was diminished when he found that Luis Car- 
 rillo, an officer of Pedrarias, who had failed in a perilous 
 enterprise, was associated with him in the command. 
 
 Few particulars remain to us of the events of this affair. 
 They embarked in a fleet of canoes, and, traversing the gulf, 
 arrived at the river which flowed down from the region of 
 Dobayba. They were not destined, however, to achieve the 
 enterprise of the golden temple. As they were proceeding 
 rather confidently and unguardedly up the river, they were 
 suddenly surprised and surrounded by an immense swarm of 
 canoes, filled with armed savages, which darted out from lurk 
 ing places along the shores. Some of the Indians assailed them 
 with lances, others with clouds of arrows, while some, plung 
 ing into the water, endeavoured to overturn their canoes. In 
 this way one-half of the Spaniards were killed or drowned. 
 Among the number fell Luis Carrillo, pierced through tho 
 
 * JP, Martyr, decad, 7, c, 10, 
 
VASCO NU&EZ DE BALBOA. 155 
 
 breast by an Indian lance. Vasco Nuiiez himself was wound 
 ed, and had great difficulty in escaping to the shore with the 
 ~esidue of his forces. 
 
 The Indians pursued him and kept up a skirmishing attack, 
 but he beat them off until the night, when he silently aban 
 doned the shore of the river, and directed his retreat towards 
 Darien. It is easier to imagine than to describe the toils and 
 dangers and horrors which beset him and the remnant of his 
 men, as they traversed rugged mountains or struggled through 
 these fearful morasses, of which they had heard such terrific 
 tales. At length they succeeded in reaching the settlement of 
 Darien. 
 
 The partisans of Pedrarias exulted in seeing Vasco Nuilez 
 returned thus foiled and wounded, and taunted his adherents 
 with their previous boastings. The latter, however, laid ail 
 the blame upon the unfortunate Carrillo. "Vasco Nuiiez," 
 said they, " had always absolute command in his former enter 
 prises, but in this he has been embarrassed by an associate. 
 Had the expedition been confided to him alone, the event had 
 been far different." 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 LETTERS FROM THE KING IN FAVOUR OF VASCO NUNEZ ARRIVAL 
 OF GARABITO ARREST OF VASCO NUNEZ. (1515.) 
 
 ABOUT this time despatches arrived from Spain that promised 
 to give a new turn to the fortunes of Vasco Nunez and to the 
 general affairs of the colony. They were written after the 
 tidings of the discovery of the South Sea, and the subjugation 
 of so many important provinces of the Isthmus. In a letter 
 addressed to Vasco Nuiiez, the king expressed his high sense 
 of his merits and services, and constituted him Adelantado 
 of the South Sea, and Governor of the provinces of Panama 
 and Coyba, though subordinate to the general command of Pe 
 drarias. A letter was likewise written by the king to Pe 
 drarias, informing him of this appointment, and ordering him 
 to consult Vasco Nuiiez on all public affairs of importance. 
 This was a humiliating blow to the pride and consequence of 
 Pedrarias, but he hoped to parry it. In the mean time, as all 
 8 from Spain were first delivered into his hands, he with- 
 
156 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 held that intended for Vasco Nuiiez, until he should deter 
 mine what course of conduct to adopt. The latter, however, 
 heard of the circumstance, as did his friend the Bishop of 
 Darien. The prelate made loud complaints of this interrup 
 tion of the royal correspondence, which he denounced, even 
 from the pulpit, as an outrage upon the rights of the subject, 
 and an act of disobedience to the sovereign. 
 
 Upon this the governor called a council of his public officers ; 
 and, after imparting the contents of his letter, requested their 
 opinion as to the propriety of investing Vasco Nuiiez with 
 the dignities thus granted to him. The Alcalde Mayor, Espi- 
 nosa, had left the party of the bishop, and was now devoted to 
 the governor. He insisted, vehemently, that the offices ought 
 in no wise to be given to Vasco Nuiiez, until the king should 
 be informed of the result of the inquest which was still going 
 on against him. In this he was warmly supported by the 
 treasurer and the accountant. The bishop replied, indig 
 nantly, that it was presumptuous and disloyal in them to 
 dispute the commands of the king, and to interfere with the 
 rewards conscientiously given by him to a meritorious subject. 
 In this way, he added, they were defeating, by their pas 
 sions, the grateful intentions of their sovereign. The governor 
 was overawed by the honest warmth of the bishop, and pro 
 fessed to accord with him in opinion. The council lasted until 
 midnight ; and it was finally agreed that the titles and digni 
 ties should be conferred on Vasco Nunez on the following 
 day.* 
 
 Pedrarias and his officers reflected, however, that if the 
 jurisdiction implied by these titles were absolutely vested in 
 Vasco Nuiiez, the government of Darien and Castilla del Oro 
 would virtually be reduced to a trifling matter ; they resolved, 
 therefore, to adopt a middle course ; to grant him the empty 
 titles, but to make him give security not to enter upon the 
 actual government of the territories in question, until Pe 
 drarias should give him permission. The bishop and Vasco 
 Nuiicz assented to this arrangement ; satisfied, for the present, 
 with securing the titles, and trusting to the course of events to 
 get dominion over the territories.! 
 
 * Oviedo, pjvrt 2, c. 9, MS. Oviedo, the historian, was present at this consultation, 
 and says that he wrote down the opinions given n the occasion, which the parties 
 signed with their proper hands. 
 
 t Oviedo, part 2, c. 9, MS. 
 
VASCO NU&EZ DE BALBOA. 157 
 
 The new honours of Vasco Nunez were now promulgated to 
 the world, and he was every where addressed by the title of 
 Adelantado. His old friends lifted up their heads with exulta 
 tion, and new adherents nocked to his standard. Parties be 
 gan to form for him and for Pedrarias, for it was deemed im 
 possible they could continue long in harmony. 
 
 The jealousy of the governor was excited by these circum 
 stances ; and he regarded the newly created Adelantado as a 
 dangerous rival and an insidious foe. Just at this critical junc 
 ture, Andres Garabito, the agent of Vasco Nunez, arrived on 
 the coast in a vessel which he had procured at Cuba, and had 
 freighted with arms and ammunition, and seventy resolute 
 men, for the secret expedition to the shores of the Pacific 
 Ocean. He anchored six leagues from the harbour, and sent 
 word privately to Vasco Nunes of his arrival. 
 
 Information was immediately carried to Pedrarias, that a 
 mysterious vessel, full of armed men, was hovering 011 the 
 coast, and holding secret communication^ with his rival. The 
 suspicious temper of the governor immediately took the alarm. 
 He fancied some treasonable plot against his authority; his 
 passions mingled with his fears ; and, in the first burst of his 
 fury, he ordered that Vasco Nunez should be seized and con 
 fined in a wooden cage. The Bishop of Darien interposed in 
 time to prevent an indignity which it might have been im 
 possible to expiate. He prevailed upon the passionate gover 
 nor, not merely to retract the order respecting the cage, but to 
 examine the whole matter with coolness and deliberation. The 
 result proved that his suspicions had been erroneous ; and that 
 the armament had been set on foot without any treasonable in 
 tent. Vasco Nunez was therefore set at liberty, after having 
 agreed to certain precautionary conditions; but he remained 
 cast down in spirit and impoverished in fortune, by the har 
 assing measures of Pedrarias. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 EXPEDITION OF MORALES AND PIZARRO TO THE SHORES OF THE 
 PACIFIC OCEAN THEIR VISIT TO THE PEARL ISLANDS THEIR 
 DISASTROUS RETURN ACROSS THE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 THE Bishop of Darien, encouraged by the success of his in 
 tercession, endeavoured to persuade the governor to go tiU 
 
158 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 further, and to permit the departure of Vasco Nunez on his ex- 
 pedition to the South Sea. The jealousy of Pedrarias, how 
 ever, was too strong to permit him to listen to such counsel. 
 He was aware of the importance of the expedition, and was 
 anxious that the Pearl Islands should be explored, which 
 promised such abundant treasures ; but he feared to increase 
 the popularity of Vasco Nunez, by adding such an enterprise 
 to the number of his achievements. Pedrarias, therefore, set 
 on foot an expedition, consisting of sixty men, but gave the 
 command to one of his own relations, named Gaspar Morales. 
 The latter was accompanied by Francisco Pizarro, who had 
 already been to those parts in the train of Vasco Nunez, and 
 who soon rose to importance in the present enterprise by his 
 fierce courage and domineering genius. 
 
 A brief notice of the principal incidents of this expedition is 
 all that is necessary for the present narration. 
 
 Morales and Pizarro traversed the mountains of the isth 
 mus by a shorter and more expeditious route than that which 
 had been taken by Vasco Nunez, and arrived on the shores of 
 the South Sea at the territories of a cacique named Tutibra, by 
 whom they were amicably entertained. Their great object 
 was to visit the Pearl Islands : the cacique, however, had but 
 four canoes, which were insufficient to contain their whole 
 party. One-half of their number, therefore, remained at the 
 village of Tutibra, under the command of a captain named 
 Peiialosa ; the residue embarked in the canoes with Morales 
 and Pizarro. After a stormy and perilous voyage, they landed 
 on one of the smaller islands, where they had some skirmish 
 ing with the natives, and thence made their way to the princi 
 pal island of the Archipelago, to which, from the report of its 
 great pearl fishery, Vasco Nuiiez had given the name of Isla 
 Rica. 
 
 The cacique of this island had long been the terror of the 
 neighbouring coasts, invading the main land with fleets of 
 canoes, and carrying oft the inhabitants into captivity. His 
 reception of the Spaniards was worthy of his fame. Four 
 times did he saiiy forth to defend his territory, and as often 
 was he repulsed with great slaughter. His warriors were over 
 whelmed with terror at the fire-arms of the Spaniards, and 
 at their ferocious bloodhounds. Finding all resistance un 
 availing, the cacique was at length compelled to sue for peace. 
 His prayers being granted, he received the conquerors into 
 hib habitation, which was well ouilt, and of immense 
 
VASCO NUftttZ DE BALBOA. 159 
 
 Here he brought them, as a peace-offering, a basket curiously 
 wrought, and filled with pearls of great beauty. Among these 
 were two of extraordinary size and value. One weighed 
 twenty -five carats ; the other was of the size of a Muscadine 
 pear, weighing upwards of three drachms, and of oriental col 
 our and lustre. The cacique considered himself more than re 
 paid by a present of hatchets, beads, and hawks -bells : and, on 
 the Spaniards smiling at his joy, observed, "These things I 
 can turn to useful purpose, but of what value are those pearls 
 to me?" 
 
 Finding, however, that these baubles were precious in the 
 eyes of the Spaniards, he took Morales and Pizarro to the sum 
 mit of a wooden tower, commanding an unbounded prospect. 
 "Behold, before you," said he, "the infinite sea, which ex 
 tends even beyond the sun beams. As to these islands which 
 lie to the right and left, they are all subject to my sway. 
 They possess but little gold, but the deep places of the sea 
 around them are full of pearls. Continue to be my friends, 
 and you shall have as many as you desire ; for I value your 
 friendship more than pearls, and, as far as in me lies, will 
 never forfeit it." 
 
 He then pointed to the main land, where it stretched to 
 wards the east, mountain beyond mountain, until the summit 
 of the last faded in the distance, and was scarcely seen above 
 the watery horizon. In that direction, he said, there lay a 
 vast country of inexhaustible riches, inhabited by a mighty 
 nation. He went on to repeat the vague but wonderful ru 
 mours which the Spaniards had frequently heard about the 
 great kingdom of Peru. Pizarro listened greedily to his words, 
 and while his eye followed the finger of the cacique, as it 
 ranged along the line of shadowy coast, his daring mind kin 
 dled with the thought of seeking tlu s golden empire beyond 
 the waters.* 
 
 Before leaving the island, the two captains impressed the 
 cacique with so great an idea of the power of the king of Cas 
 tile, that he agreed to become his vassal, and to render him an 
 annual tribute of one hundred pounds weight of pearls. 
 
 The party having returned in satety to the mainland, though 
 to a different place from that where they had embarked, Gas- 
 par Morales sent his relation, Bernardo Morales, with ten men 
 
 * Ilerrera, d. 2, 1. i. c. iv. P. Martyr, d. 3, c. x. 
 
100 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY 
 
 in quest of Penalosa and his companions, who had remained in 
 the village or Tutibra. 
 
 Unfortunately for the Spaniards, during the absence of the 
 commanders, this Penalosa had so exasperated the natives by 
 riis misconduct, that a conspiracy had been formed by the 
 caciques along the coast to massacre the whole of the strangers, 
 when the party should return from the islands. 
 
 Bernardo Morales and his companions, on their way in 
 quest of PenaJosa, put up for the night in the village of a 
 cacique named Chuchama, who was one of the conspirators. 
 They were entertained with pretended hospitality. In the 
 dead of the night, however, the house in which they were 
 sleeping was wrapped in flames, and most of them were de 
 stroyed. Chuchama then prepared with his confederates to 
 attack the main body of the Spaniards who remained with 
 Morales and Pizarro. 
 
 Fortunately for the latter, there was among the Indians who 
 had accompanied them to the islands a cacique named Chi- 
 ruca, who was in secret correspondence with the conspirators. 
 Some circumstances in his conduct excited their suspicions; 
 they put him to the torture and drew from him a relation of 
 the massacre of their companions, and of the attack with 
 which they were menaced. 
 
 Morales and Pizarro were at first appalled by the over 
 whelming danger which surrounded them. Concealing their 
 agitation, however, they compelled Chiruca to send a message 
 to each of the confederate caciques, inviting him to a secret 
 conference, under pretence of giving him important informa 
 tion. The caciques came at the summons: they were thus 
 taken one by one to the number of eighteen, and put in chains. 
 Just at this juncture Penalosa arrived with thirty men who 
 had remained with him at Tutibra. Their arrival was hailed 
 with joy by their comrades, who had given them up for lost. 
 Encouraged by this unexpected reinforcement, the Spaniards 
 now attacked by surprise the main body of confederate In- 
 dians, who, being ignorant of the discovery of their plot, and 
 capture of their caciques, were awaiting the return of the lat 
 ter in a state of negligent security. 
 
 Pizarro led the van, and set upon the enemy at daybreak 
 with the old Spanish war-cry of Santiago ! It was a slaughter 
 rather than a battle, for the Indians were unprepared for re 
 sistance. Before sunrise, seven hundred lay dead iipon the 
 field. Returning from the massacre, the commanders doomed 
 
VASCO NUNEZ DE BALBOA. 161 
 
 the caciques who were in chains to be torn in pieces by the 
 bloodhounds ; nor was even Chiruca spared from this sangui 
 nary sentence. Notwithstanding this bloody revenge, the 
 vindictive spirit of the commanders was still unappeased, and 
 they set off to surprise the village of a cacique named Biru, 
 who dwelt on the eastern side of the Gulf of St. Michael. He 
 was famed for valour and for cruelty ; his dwelling was sur 
 rounded by the weapons and other trophies of those whom he 
 had vanquished ; and he was said never to give quarter. 
 
 The Spaniards assailed his village before daybreak with fire 
 and sword, and made dreadful havoc. Biru escaped from his 
 burning habitation, rallied his people, kept up a galling fight 
 throughout the greater part of that day, and handled the 
 Spaniards so roughly, that, when he drew off at night, they 
 did not venture to pursue him, but returned right gladly from 
 his territory. According to some of the Spanish writers, the 
 kingdom of Peru derived its name from this warlike cacique, 
 through a blunder of the early discoverers; the assertion, 
 however, is believed to be erroneous. 
 
 The Spanish had pushed their bloody revenge to an extreme, 
 and were now doomed to suffer from the recoil. In the fury 
 of their passions, they had forgotten that they were but a 
 handful of men surrounded by savage nations. Returning 
 wearied and disheartened from the battle with Biru, they were 
 waylaid and assaulted by a host of Indians led on by the son 
 of Chiruca. A javelin from his hand pierced one of the 
 Spaniards through the breast and came out between the 
 shoulders; several others were wounded, and the remainder 
 were harassed by a galling fire kept up from among rocks 
 and bushes. 
 
 Dismayed at the implacable vengeance they had aroused, the 
 Spaniards hastened to abandon these hostile shores and make 
 the best of their way back to Darien. The Indians, however, 
 were not to be appeased by the mere departure of the in 
 truders. They followed them perseveringly for seven days, 
 hanging on their skirts, and harassing them by continual 
 alarms. Morales and Pizarro, seeing the obstinacy of their 
 pursuit, endeavoured to gain a march upon them by strata 
 gem. Making large fires as usual one night about the place 
 of their encampment, they left them burning to deceive the 
 enemy while they made a rapid retreat. Among their num 
 ber was one poor fellow named Velasquez, who was so griev 
 ously wounded that he could not walk. Unable to accompany 
 
162 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 his countrymen in their flight, and dreading to fall into the 
 merciless hands of the savages, he determined to hang him 
 self, nor could the prayers and even tears of his comrades dis 
 suade him from his purpose. 
 
 The stratagem of the Spaniards, however, was unavailing. 
 Their retreat was perceived, and at daybreak, to their dismay, 
 they found themselves surrounded by three squadrons of sav 
 ages. Unable, in their haggard state, to make head against 
 so many foes, they remained drawn up all day on the defen 
 sive, some watching while others reposed. At night they lit 
 their fires and again attempted to make a secret retreat. The 
 Indians, however, were as usual on their traces, and wounded 
 several with arrows. Thus pressed and goaded, the Spaniards 
 became desperate, and fought like madmen, rushing upon the 
 very darts of the enemy. 
 
 Morales now resorted to an inhuman and fruitless expedient 
 to retard his pursuers. He caused several Indian prisoners to 
 be slain, hoping that their friends would stop to lament over 
 them ; but the sight of their mangled bodies only increased the 
 fury of the savages and the obstinacy of their pursuit. 
 
 For nine days were the Spaniards hunted in this manner 
 about the woods and mountains, the swamps and fens, wander 
 ing they knew not whither, and returning upon their steps, 
 until, to their dismay, they found themselves in the very place 
 where, several days previously, they had been surrounded by 
 the three squadrons. 
 
 Many now began to despair of ever escaping with life from 
 this trackless wilderness, thus teeming with deadly foes. It 
 was with difficulty their commanders could rally their spirits, 
 and encourage them to persevere. Entering a thick forest 
 they were again assailed by a band of Indians, but despair and 
 fury gave them strength : they fought like wild beasts rather 
 than like men, and routed the foe with dreadful carnage. 
 They had hoped to gain a breathing time by this victory, but a 
 new distress attended them. They got entangled in one of 
 those deep and dismal marshes which abound on those coasts, 
 and in which the wanderer is often drowned or suffocated. 
 For a whole day they toiled through brake and bramble, and 
 miry fen, with the water reaching to their girdles. At length 
 they extricated themselves from the swamp, and arrived at 
 the sea shore. The tide was out, but was about to return, and 
 on this coast it rises rapidly to a great height. Fearing to be 
 overwhelmed by the rising surf, they hastened to climb a rock 
 
VASCO NUfiEZ DE BALBOA. 103 
 
 out of reach of the swelling waters. Here they threw them 
 selves on the earth, panting with fatigue and abandoned to 
 despair. A savage wilderness filled with still more savage 
 foes, was on one side, on the other the roaring sea. How were 
 they to extricate themselves from these surrounding perils? 
 While reflecting on their desperate situation, they heard the 
 voices of Indians. On looking cautiously round, they beheld 
 four canoes entering a neighbouring creek. A party was im 
 mediately despatched who came upon the savages by surprise, 
 drove them into the woods, and seized upon the canoes. In 
 these frail barks the Spaniards escaped from their perilous 
 neighbourhood, and, traversing the Gulf of St. Michael, landed 
 in a less hostile part, from whence they set out a second time 
 across the mountains. 
 
 It is needless to recount the other hardships they endured, 
 and their further conflicts with the Indians; suffice it to say, 
 after a series of almost incredible sufferings and disasters, 
 they at length arrived in a battered and emaciated condition 
 at Darien. Throughout all their toils and troubles, however, 
 they had managed to preserve a part of the treasure they had 
 gained in the islands; especially the pearls given them by the 
 cacique of Isla Rica. These were objects of universal admira 
 tion. One of thorn was put up at auction, and bought by 
 Pedrarias, and was afterwards presented by his wife Dona 
 Isabella de Bobadilla to the Empress, who, in return, gave her 
 four thousand ducats.* 
 
 Such was the cupidity of the colonists, that the sight of 
 these pearls and the reputed wealth of the islands of the 
 Southern Sea, and the kingdoms on its borders, made far 
 greater impression on the public mind, than the tale told by 
 the adventurers of all the horrors they had passed; and every 
 one was eager to seek these wealthy regions beyond the 
 mountains. 
 
 * Herrera, Hist. Ind. d. 2, 1. i. c. 4. 
 
164 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 UNFORTUNATE ENTERPRISES OF THE OFFICERS OF PEDRARIAS 
 MATRIMONIAL COMPACT BETWEEN THE GOVERNOR AND VASCO 
 
 NUNEZ. 
 
 IN narrating the preceding expedition of Morales and Pi- 
 zarro, we have been tempted into what may almost be deemed 
 an episode, though it serves to place in a proper light the lurk 
 ing difficulties and dangers which beset the expeditions of 
 Vasco Nuiiez to the same regions, and his superior prudence 
 and management in avoiding them. It is not the object of 
 this narrative, however, to record the general events of the 
 colony under the administration of Don Pedrarias Davila. 
 We refrain, therefore, from detailing various expeditions set on 
 foot by him to explore and subjugate the surrounding country ; 
 and which, being ignorantly or rashly conducted, too often 
 ended in misfortune and disgrace. One of these was to the 
 province of Zenu, where gold was supposed to be taken in the 
 rivers in nets ; and where the Bachelor Enciso once undertook 
 to invade the sepulchres. A captain named Francisco Be- 
 cerra penetrated into this country at the head of one hundred 
 and eighty men, well armed and equipped, and provided with 
 three pieces of artillery ; but neither the commander nor any 
 of his men returned. An Indian boy who accompanied them 
 was the only one who escaped, and told the dismal tale of their 
 having fallen victims to the assaults and stratagems and 
 poisoned arrows of the Indians. 
 
 Another band was defeated by Tubanama, the ferocious ca 
 cique of the mountains, who bore as banners the bloody shirts 
 of the Spaniards he had slain in former battles. In fine, the 
 colony became so weakened by these repeated losses, and the 
 savages so emboldened by success, that the latter beleaguered 
 it with their forces, harassed it by assaults and ambuscades, 
 and reduced it to great extremity. Such was the alarm in 
 Darien, says the Bishop Las Casas, that the people feared to 
 be burnt in their houses. They kept a watchful eye upon the 
 mountains, the plains, and the very branches of the trees. 
 Their imaginations were infected by their fears. If they 
 looked toward the land, the long, waving grass of the savan 
 nahs appeared to them to be moving hosts of Indians. If they 
 looked towards the sea, they fancied they beheld fleets <?f 
 
VASCO NUNEZ DE BALBOA. 165 
 
 canoes in the distance. Pedrarias endeavoured to prevent all 
 rumours from abroad that might increase this fevered state of 
 alarm ; at the same time he ordered the smelting-house to be 
 closed, which was never done" but in time of war. This was 
 done at the suggestion of the Bishop, who caused prayers to 
 be put up, and fasts proclaimed, to avert the impending 
 calamities. 
 
 While Pedrarias was harassed and perplexed by these com 
 plicated evils, he was haunted by continual apprehensions of 
 the ultimate ascendency of Vasco Nunez. He knew him to be 
 beloved by the people, and befriended by the Bishop ; and he 
 had received proofs that his services were highly appreciated 
 by the king. He knew also that representations had been sent 
 home by him and his partisans, of the evils and abuses of the 
 colony under the present rule, and of the necessity of a more 
 active and efficient governor. He dreaded lest these represen 
 tations should ultimately succeed; that he should be under 
 mined in the royal favour, and Yasco Nunez be elevated upon 
 his ruins. 
 
 The politic bishop perceived the uneasy state of the gover 
 nor s mind, and endeavoured, by means of his apprehensions, 
 to effect that reconciliation which he had sought in vain to 
 produce through more generous motives. He represented to 
 him that his treatment of Vasco Nuilez was odious in the eyes 
 of the people, and must eventually draw on him the displea 
 sure of his sovereign. "But why persist," added he, "in 
 driving a man to become your deadliest enemy, whom you 
 may grapple to your side as your firmest friend? You have 
 several daughters give him one in marriage ; you will then 
 have for a son-in-law a man of merit and popularity, who is a 
 hidalgo by birth, and a favourite of the king. You are ad 
 vanced in life and infirm ; he is in the prime and vigour of his 
 days, and possessed of great activity. You can make him 
 your lieutenant; and while you repose from your toils, he can 
 carry on the affairs of the colony with spirit and enterprise ; 
 and all his achievements will redound to the advancement of 
 . your family and the splendour of your administration." 
 
 The governor and his lady were won by the eloquence of 
 the bishop and readily listened to his suggestions ; and Vasco 
 Nunez was but too happy to effect a reconciliation on such 
 flattering terms. Written articles were accordingly drawn up 
 and exchanged, contracting a marriage between him and the 
 eWest Daughter of Pedre-rias. The young lady was the.u in 
 
166 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 Spain, but was to be sent for, and the nuptials were to be cele 
 brated on her arrival at Darien. 
 
 Having thus fulfilled his office of peace-maker, and settled, 
 as he supposed, all feuds and jealousies on the sure and per 
 manent foundation of family alliance, the worthy bishop de 
 parted shortly afterwards for Spain. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 VASCO NUNEZ TRANSPORTS SHIPS ACROSS THE MOUNTAINS TO 
 THE PACIFIC OCEAN. (1516.) 
 
 BEHOLD Vasco Nuilez once more in the high career of pros 
 perity ! His most implacable enemy had suddenly been con 
 verted into his dearest friend ; for the governor, now that he 
 looked upon him as his son-in-law, loaded him with favours. 
 Above all, he authorized him to buil 1 brigantines and make all 
 the necessary preparations for his long-desired expedition to 
 explore the Southern Ocean. The place appointed for these 
 purposes was the port of Careta, situated to the west of 
 Darien ; from whence there was supposed to be the most con 
 venient roujbe across the mountains. A town called Acla had 
 been founded at this port; and the fortress was already 
 erected, of which Lope de Olano was Alcalde; Vasco Nunez 
 was now empowered to continue the building of the town. 
 Two hundred men were placed under his command to aid him 
 in carrying his plans into execution, and a sum of money was 
 advanced to him out of the royal treasury. His supply of 
 funds, however, was not sufficient ; but he received assistance 
 from a private source. There was a notary at Darieii, named 
 Hernando de Arguello, a man of some consequence in the com 
 munity, and who had been one of the most furious opponents 
 of the unfortunate Nicuesa. He had amassed considerable 
 property, and now embarked a great part of it in the proposed 
 enterprise, on condition, no doubt, of sharing largely in its 
 anticipated profits. 
 
 On arriving at Acla, Vasco Nuiiez set to work to prepare 
 the materials of four brigantines that were to be launched into 
 the South Sea. The timber was felled on the Atlantic sea 
 board; and was then, with the anchors and rigging, trans- 
 
VA8CO NUNEZ DE BALBOA. 167 
 
 ported across the lofty ridge of mountains to the opposite 
 shores of the isthmus. Several Spaniards, thirty Negroes, and 
 a great number of Indians were employed for the purpose. 
 They had no other roads but Indian paths, straggling through 
 almost impervious forests, across torrents, and up rugged 
 defiles, broken by rocks and precipices. In this way they 
 toiled like ants up the mountains, with their ponderous bur 
 thens, under the scorching rays of a tropical sun. Many of 
 the poor Indians sank by the way and perished under this stu 
 pendous task. The Spaniards and Negroes, being of hardier 
 constitutions, were better able to cope with the incredible 
 hardships to which they were subjected. On the summit of 
 the mountains a house had been provided for their temporary 
 repose. After remaining here a little time to refresh them 
 selves and gain new strength, they renewed their labours, 
 descending the opposite side of the mountains until they 
 reached the navigable part of a river, which they called the 
 Balsas, and which flowed into the Pacific. 
 
 Much time and trouble and many lives were expended on 
 this arduous undertaking, before they had transported to the 
 river sufficient timber for two brigantines ; while the timber 
 for the other two, and the rigging and munitions for the whole, 
 yet remained to be brought. To add to their difficulties, they 
 had scarcely begun to work upon the timber before they dis 
 covered that it was totally useless, being subject to the ravages 
 of the worms from having been cut in the vicinity of salt 
 water. They were obliged, therefore, to begin anew, and fell 
 trees on the border of the river. 
 
 Vasco Nunez maintained his patience and perseverance, and 
 displayed admirable management under these delays and diffi 
 culties. Their supply of food being scanty, he divided his 
 people, Spaniards, Negroes, and Indians, into three bands ; one 
 was to cut and saw the wood, another to bring the rigging and 
 iron-work from Acla, which was twenty -two leagues distant ; 
 and the third to forage the neighbouring country for pro 
 visions. 
 
 Scarcely was the timber felled and shaped for use when the 
 rains set in, and the river swelled and overflowed its banks so 
 suddenly, that the workmen barely escaped with their lives 
 by clambering into the trees ; while the wood on which they 
 had been working was either buried in sand or slime, or swept 
 away by the raging torrent. Famine was soon added to their 
 Other distresses. The foraging party was absent and did not 
 
168 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 return with food ; and the swelling of the river cut them oft 
 from that part of the country from whence they obtained their 
 supplies. They were reduced, therefore, to such scarcity, as to 
 be fain to assuage their hunger with such roots as they could 
 gather in the forests. 
 
 In this extremity the Indians bethought themselves of one 
 of their rude and simple expedients. Plunging into the river 
 they fastened a number of logs together with withes, and con 
 nected them with the opposite bank so as to make a floating 
 bridge. On this a party of the Spaniards crossed with great 
 difficulty and peril, from the violence of the current, and the 
 flexibility of the bridge, which often sank beneath them until 
 the water rose above their girdles. On being safely landed, 
 they foraged the neighbourhood, and procured a supply of pro 
 visions sufficient for the present emergency. 
 
 When the river subsided the workmen again resumed their 
 labours; a number of recruits arrived from Acla, bringing 
 various supplies, and the business of the enterprise was pressed 
 with redoubled ardour, until, at length, after a series of in 
 credible toils and hardships, Vasco Nunez had the satisfaction 
 to behold two of his brigantines floating on the river Balsas. 
 As soon as they could be equipped for sea, he embarked in 
 them with as many Spaniards as they could carry ; and, issu 
 ing forth from the river, launched triumphantly on the great 
 ocean he had discovered. 
 
 We can readily imagine the exultation of this intrepid ad 
 venturer, and how amply he was repaid for all his sufferings 
 when he first spread a sail upon that untra versed ocean and 
 felt that the range of an unknown world was open to him. 
 
 There are points in the history of these Spanish discoveries 
 of the western hemisphere that make us pause with wonder 
 and admiration at the daring spirit of the men who conducted 
 them and the appalling difficulties surmounted by their cour 
 age and perseverance. We know few instances, however, 
 more striking than this piecemeal transportation across the 
 mountains of Darien of the first European ships that ploughed 
 the waves of the Pacific; and we can readily excuse the boast 
 of the old Castilian writers when they exclaim that none but 
 Spaniards could ever have conceived or persisted in such an 
 undertaking, and no commander in the new world but Vasco 
 Nunez could have conducted it to a successful issue." * 
 
 * Herrera, d. 2, 1. ii. c. 11. 
 
VASCO NUftEZ Ltt BALBOA. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 CRUISE OF VASCO NUNEZ IN THE SOUTHERN SEA RUMOURS FROM 
 
 ACLA. 
 
 THE first cruise of Vasco Nunez was to the group of Pearl 
 islands, on the principal one of which he disembarked the 
 greater part of his crews, and despatched the brigantines to the 
 main land to bring off the remainder. It was his intention to 
 construct the other two vessels of his proposed squadron at this 
 island. During the absence of the brigantines he ranged the 
 island with his men to collect provisions and to establish a 
 complete sway over the natives. On the return of his vessels, 
 and while preparations were making for the building of the 
 )thers, he embarked with a hundred men and departed on a 
 reconnoitering cruise to the eastward towards the region 
 pointed out by the Indians as abounding in riches. 
 
 Having passed about twenty leagues beyond the Gulf of San 
 Miguel, the mariners were filled with apprehension at behold 
 ing a great number of whales, which resembled a reef of rocks 
 stretching far into the sea and lashed by breakers. In an un 
 known ocean like this every unusual object is apt to inspire 
 alarm. The seamen feared to approach these fancied dangers 
 in the dark; Vasco Nuiiez anchored, therefore, for the night 
 under a point of land, intending to continue in the same direc 
 tion on the following day. When the morning dawned, how 
 ever, the wind had changed and was contrary ; whereupon he 
 altered his course and thus abandoned a cruise, which, if per 
 severed ia, might have terminated in the discovery of Peru! 
 Steering for the main land, he anchored on that part of the 
 coast governed by the cacique Chuchama, who had massacred 
 Bernardo Morales and his companions when reposing in his 
 village. Here landing with his men, Vasco Nunez came sud 
 denly upon the dwelling of the cacique. The Indians sallied 
 forth to defend their homes, but were routed with great loss ; 
 and ample vengeance was taken upon them for their outrage 
 upon the laws of hospitality. Having thus avenged the death 
 of his countrymen, Vasco Nunez re-embarked and returned to 
 Isla Rica. 
 
 Ho now applied himself diligently to complete the building 
 of his brigantines, despatching men to Acla to bring the neces- 
 
HO SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 sary stores and rigging across the mountains. While thus 
 occupied, a rumour reached him that a new governor named 
 Lope de Sosa was coming out from Spain to supersede Pedra- 
 rias. Vasco Nunez was troubled at these tidings. A new gov 
 ernor would be likely to adopt new measures, or to have new 
 favourites. He feared, therefore, that some order might come 
 to suspend or embarrass his expedition, or that the command 
 of it might be given to another. In his perplexity he held a 
 consultation with several of his confidential officers. 
 
 After some debate, it was agreed among them that a trusty 
 and intelligent person should be sent as a scout to Acla un 
 der pretence of procuring munitions for the ships. Should 
 he find Pedrarias in quiet possession of the government, he 
 was to account to him for the delay of the expedition ; to re 
 quest that the time allotted to it might be extended, and to 
 request reinforcements and supplies. Should he find, however, 
 that a new governor was actually arrived, he was to return 
 immediately with the tidings. In such case it was resolved to 
 put to sea before any contrary orders could arrive, trusting 
 eventually to excuse themselves on the plea of zeal and good 
 intentions. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 RECONNOITEEING EXPEDITION OF GARABITO STRATAGEM OP 
 PEDRARIAS TO ENTRAP VASCO NUNEZ. 
 
 THE person entrusted with the reconnoitering expedition to 
 Acla was Andres Garabito, in whose fidelity and discretion 
 Vasco Nuiiex had implicit confidence. His confidence was 
 destined to be fatally deceived. According to the assertions of 
 contemporaries, this Garabito cherished a secret and vindic 
 tive enmity against his commander, arising from a simple but 
 a natural cause. Vasco Nunez had continued to have a fond 
 ness for the Indian damsel, daughter of the cacique Car eta, 
 whom he had received from her father as a pledge of amity. 
 Some dispute arose concerning her on one occasion between 
 him and Garabito, in the course of which he expressed himself 
 in severe and galling language. Garabito was deeply morti 
 fied at some of his expressions, and, being of a malignant 
 spirit, determined on a dastardly revenge. He wrote pri- 
 
VASCO NU&EZ DE BALBOA. 171 
 
 vately to Pedrarias, assuring him that Vasco Nunez had no 
 intention of solemnizing his marriage with his daughter, being 
 completely under the influence of an Indian paramour; that 
 h^ made use of the friendship of Pedrarias merely to further 
 his own selfish views, intending, as soon as his ships were 
 ready, to throw off all allegiance, and to put to sea as an inde 
 pendent commander. 
 
 This mischievous letter Garabito had written immediately 
 after the last departure of Vasco Nuiiez from Acla. Its effects 
 upon the proud and jealous spirit of the governor may easily 
 be conceived. All his former suspicions were immediately re 
 vived. They acquired strength during a long interval that 
 elapsed without tidings being received from the expedition. 
 There were designing and prejudiced persons at hand who per 
 ceived and quickened these jealous feelings of the governor. 
 Among these was the Bachelor Corral, who cherished a deep 
 grudge against Vasco Nuiiez for having once thrown him into 
 prison for his factious conduct ; and Alonzo de la Puente, the 
 royal treasurer, whom Vasco Nuiiez had affronted by demand 
 ing the re-payment of a loan. Such was the tempest that was 
 gradually gathering in the factious little colony of Darien. 
 
 The subsequent conduct of Garabito gives much confirma 
 tion to the charge of perfidy that has been advanced against 
 him. When he arrived at Acla he found that Pedrarias re 
 mained in possession of the government; for his intended 
 successor had died in the very harbour. The conduct and 
 conversation of Garabito was such as to arouse suspicions; he 
 was arrested, and his papers and letters were sent to Pedra 
 rias. When examined he readily suffered himself to be 
 wrought upon by threats of punishment and promises of 
 pardon, and revealed all that he knew, and declared still more 
 that he suspected and surmised, of the plans and intentions of 
 Vasco Nuiiez. 
 
 The arrest of Garabito, and the seizure of his letters, pro 
 duced a great agitation at Darien. It was considered a revival 
 of the ancient animosity between the governor and Vasco 
 Nunez, and the friends of the latter trembled for his safety. 
 
 Hernando de Arguello, especially, Avas in great alarm. He 
 had embarked the most of his fortune in the expedition, and 
 the failure of it would be ruinous to him. He wrote to Vasco 
 Nuiiez, informing him of the critical posture of affairs, and 
 urging him to put to sea without delay. He would be pro 
 tected at all events, he said, by the Jeronimite Fathers at San, 
 
172 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 Domingo, who were at that time all-powerful in the new 
 world, and who regarded his expedition as calculated to pro 
 mote the glory of God as well as the dominion of the king.* 
 This letter fell into the hands of Pedrarias, and convinced hjm 
 of the existence of a dangerous plot against his authority. He 
 immediately ordered Arguello to be arrested ; and now devised 
 means to get Vasco Nunez within his power. While the latter 
 remained on the shores of the South Sea with his brigantines 
 and his band of hearty and devoted followers, Pedrarias knew 
 that it would be in vain to attempt to take him by force. 
 Dissembling his suspicions and intentions, therefore, he wrote 
 to him in the most amicable terms, requesting him to repair 
 immediately to Acla, as he wished to hold a conference with 
 him about the impending expedition. Fearing, however, that 
 Vasco Nufiez might suspect his motives and refuse to comply, 
 "ie, at the same time, ordered Francisco Pizarro to muster all 
 Che armed force he could collect, and to seek and arrest his 
 late patron and commander wherever he might be found. 
 
 So great was the terror inspired by the arrest of Arguello, 
 and by the general violence of Pedrarias, that, though Vasco 
 Nuiiez was a favourite with the great mass of the people, no 
 one ventured to warn him of the danger that attended his 
 return to Acla. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 VASCO NUNEZ AND THE ASTROLOGER HIS RETURN TO ACLA. 
 
 THE old Spanish writers who have treated of the fortunes of 
 Vasco Nuiiez, record an anecdote which is worthy of being 
 cited, as characteristic of the people and the age. Among the 
 motley crowd of adventurers lured across the ocean by the 
 reputed wealth and wonders of the new world, was an Italian 
 
 * In consequence of the eloquent representations made to the Spanish Govern 
 ment by the venerable Las Casas, of the cruel wrongs and oppressions practised 
 upon Ohe Indians in the colonies, the Cardinal Ximenes, m 1516, sent out three 
 Jerommite Friars, chosen for their zeal and abilities, clothed with full powers to 
 inquire into and remedy all abuses, and to take all proper measures for the good 
 go\ eminent, religious instiuction, and effectual protection of the natives. The 
 exercise of their powers at San Domingo made a great sensation in the new world, 
 and, for a time, had a beneficial effect in checking the oppressive and. licentious 
 
VASCO NUNEZ DE BALBOA. 173 
 
 astrologer, a native of Venice, named Micer Codro. At the 
 time that Vasco Nunez held supreme sway at Darien, this 
 reader of the stars had cast his horoscope, and pretended to 
 foretell his destiny. Pointing one night to a certain star, he 
 assured him that in the year in which he should behold that 
 star in a part of the heavens which he designated, his life 
 would be in imminent jeopardy; but should he survive this 
 year of peril, he would become the richest and most renowned 
 captain throughout the Indies. 
 
 Several years, it is added, had elapsed since this prediction 
 was made ; yet, that it still dwelt in the mind of Vasco Nuiiez, 
 was evident from the following circumstance. While waiting 
 the return of his messenger, Garabito, he was on the shore of 
 Isla Rica one serene evening, .in company with some of his 
 officers, when, regarding the heavens, he beheld the fated star 
 exactly in that part of the firmament which had been pointed 
 out by the Italian astrologer. Turning to nis companions, 
 with a smile, "Behold," said he, "the wisdom of those who 
 believe in sooth-sayers, and, above all, in such an astrologer as 
 Micer Codro ! According to his prophecy, I should now be in 
 imminent peril of my life ; yet, here I am, within reach of all 
 my wishes ; sound in health, with four brigantines and three 
 hundred men at my command, and on the point of exploring 
 this great southern ocean." 
 
 At this fated juncture, say the chroniclers, arrived the 
 hypocritical letter of Pedrarias, inviting him to an interview 
 at Acla! The discreet reader will decide for himself what 
 credit to give to this anecdote, or rather what allowance to 
 make for the little traits of coincidence gratuitously added to 
 the original fact by writers who delight in the marvellous. 
 The tenor of this letter awakened no suspicion in the breast of 
 Vasco Nuiiez, who reposed entire confidence in the amity of 
 the governor as his intended father-in-law, and appears, to 
 have been unconscious of any thing in his own conduct that 
 could warrant hostility. Leaving his ships in command of 
 Francisco Companon, he departed immediately to meet the 
 governor at Acla, unattended by any armed force. 
 
 The messengers who had brought the letter maintained at 
 first a cautious silence as to the events which had transpired 
 at Darien. They were gradually won, however, by the frank 
 and genial manners of Vasco Nuiiez, and grieved to see so gal- 
 lant a soldier hurrying into the snare. Having crossed the 
 mountains and drawn near to Acla, their kind feelings got the 
 
174 SPANISH VOYAGES OF 
 
 better of their caution, and they revealed the true nature of 
 their errand, and the hostile intentions of Pedrarias. Vasco 
 Nunez was struck with astonishment at the recital ; but, heing 
 unconscious, it is said, of any evil intention, he could scarcely 
 credit this sudden hostility in a man who had but recently 
 promised him his daughter in marriage. He imagined the 
 whole to be some groundless jealousy which his own appear 
 ance would dispel, and accordingly continued on his journey. 
 He had not proceeded far, however, when he was met by a 
 band of armed men, led by Francisco Pizarro. The latter 
 stepped forward to arrest his ancient commander. Vasco 
 Nunez paused for a moment, and regarded him with a look 
 of reproachful astonishment. "How is this, Francisco?" ex 
 claimed he. "Is this the way you have been accustomed to 
 receive me?" Offering no further remonstrance, he suffered 
 himself quietly to be taken prisoner by his former adherent, 
 and conducted in chains to Acla. Here he was thrown into 
 prison, and Bartolome Hurtado, once his favourite officer, was 
 sent to take command of his squadron. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 TRIAL OF VASCO NUNEZ. 
 
 DON PEDRARIAS concealed his exultation at the success of the 
 stratagem by which he had ensnared his generous and con 
 fiding rival. He even visited him in prison, and pretended 
 deep concern at being obliged to treat him with this tem 
 porary rigour, attributing it entirely to certain accusations 
 lodged against him by the Treasurer Alonzo de la Puente, 
 which his official situation compelled him to notice and inves 
 tigate. 
 
 " Be not afflicted, however, my son!" said the hypocrite, "an 
 investigation will, doubtless, rot merely establish your inno 
 cence, but serve to render your zeal and loyalty towards your 
 sovereign still more conspicuous. " 
 
 While Pedrarias assumed this soothing tone towards his 
 prisoner, he urged the Alcalde Mayor Espinosa to proceed 
 against him with the utmost rigour of the law. 
 
 The charge brought against him of a treasonable conspiracy 
 
VASCO NUffEZ DE BALBOA. 175 
 
 to cast off all allegiance to the crown, and to assume an inde 
 pendent sway on the borders of the Southern Sea, was princi 
 pally supported by the confessions of Andres Garabito. The 
 evidence is also cited of a soldier, who stood sentinel one night 
 near the quarters of Vasco Nunez on Isla Eica, and who, being 
 driven to take shelter from the rain under the eaves of 
 the house, overheard a conversation betwesn that command 
 er and certain of his officers, wherein they agreed to put to 
 sea with the squadron on their own account, and to set the 
 governor at defiance. This testimony, according to Las Casas, 
 arose from a misconstruction on the part of the sentinel, who 
 only heard a portion of their conversation, relating to their in 
 tention of sailing without waiting for orders, in case a new gov 
 ernor should arrive to supersede Pedrarias. 
 
 The governor in the mean time informed himself from day to 
 day and hour to hour of the progress of the trial, and, consid 
 ering the evidence sufficiently strong to warrant his personal 
 hostility, ho now paid another visit to his prisoner, and, throw 
 ing off all affectation of kindness, upbraided him in the most 
 passionate manner. 
 
 "Hitherto," said he, "I have treated you as a son, because I 
 thought you loyal to your king, and to me as his representa 
 tive; but as I find you have meditated rebellion against the 
 crown of Castile, I cast you off from my affections, and shall 
 henceforth treat you as an enemy." 
 
 Vasco Nunez indignantly repelled the charge, and appealed 
 to the confiding frankness of his conduct as a proof of inno 
 cence. "Had I been conscious of my guilt," said he, "what 
 could have induced me to come here ana put myself into your 
 hands? Had I meditated rebellion, what prevented me from 
 carrying it into effect? I had four ships ready to weigh anchor, 
 three hundred brave men at my command, and an open sea 
 before me. What had I to do but to spread sail and press for 
 ward? There was no doubt of finding a land, whether rich or 
 poor, sufficient for me and mine, far beyond the reach of your 
 control. In the innocence of my heart, nowever, I came here 
 promptly, at your mere request, and my reward is slander, in 
 dignity, and chains 1" 
 
 The noble and ingenuous appeal of Vasco Nunez had no effect 
 on the prejudiced feelings of the governor ; on the contrary, he 
 was but the more exasperated against his prisoner, and ordered 
 that his irons should be doubled. 
 
 The trial was now urged by him with increased eagerness, 
 
176 SPAyiSn VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 Lest the present accusation should not be sufficient to effect 
 the ruin of his victim, the old inquest into his conduct as 
 governor, which had remained suspended for many year- 
 revived, and he was charged anew with the wrongs iir 
 on the Bachelor Enciso, and with the death of the unfortunate 
 Nicu 
 
 Notwithstanding all these charges, the trial went on slowly, 
 with frequent delays: for the Alcalde Mayor. Gaspar de Espi- 
 nosa. seems to have had but little relish for the task assigned 
 him, and to have needed frequent spurring from the eager and 
 passionate governor. He probably considered the accused as 
 technically guilty, though innocent of all intentional rebellion, 
 but was ordered to decide according to the strict letter of the 
 law. He therefore at length gave a reluctant verdict against 
 Fasco Nunez, but recommended him to mercy, on account of 
 Ms great services. IT entreated that, at least, lie might be per 
 mitted to appeal No :" said the unrelenting Pedrarias. If 
 he has merited death, let him suffer death !" He accordingly 
 condemned him to be beheaded. The same sentence was 
 passed upon several of his officers who were implicated in his 
 alleged conspiracy : among these was Hernando de Arguello, 
 who had written the letter to Yasco Nunnez. informing him of 
 the arrest of his messenger, and advising him to put to sea, 
 without heeding the hostility of Pedrarias. As to the perfidi 
 ous informer Garabito. he was pardoned and set at liber* 
 
 In considering this case, as far as we are enabled, from the 
 imperfect testimony that remains on record, we are inclined to 
 think it one where passion and self-interest interfered with the 
 pure administration of justice. Pedrarias had always consid 
 ered Yasco Nunez as a dangerous rival, and. though his jeal- 
 had been for some time lulled by looking on him as an 
 intended son-in-law, it ~-as revived by the suggestion that he 
 intended to evade his alliance, and to dispute his authority. 
 His exasperated feelings hurried him too far to retreat, and. 
 having loaded his prisoner with chains and indignities, his 
 death became indispensable to his own security. 
 
 our own part, we have little doubt that it was the fixed 
 intention of Yasco Nunez, after he had once succeeded in 
 the arduous undertaking of transporting his ships across the 
 mountains, to suffer no capricious order from Pedrari :.- 
 any other governor, to defeat the enterprise which he had so 
 long meditated, and for which he had so laboriously prepared. 
 rrobable he may have expressed such general determina 
 
VASCO yUXEZ DE BALBOA. 177 
 
 tion in the hearing of Garabito and of others of his companions. 
 AY.- can find ample excuse for such a resolution in his con 
 sciousness of his own deserts ; his experience of past hindrances 
 to his expedition, arising from the jealousy of others ; his feel 
 ing of some degree of authority, from his office of Adelantado ; 
 and his knowledge of the favourable disposition and kind 
 intentions of his sovereign towards him. We acquit him 
 entirely of the senseless idea of rebelling against the crown; 
 and suggest these considerations in palliation of any meditated 
 disobedience of Pedrarias. should such a charge be supposed to 
 have been substantiated. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 EXECUTION OF VASCO MTXEZ. (1517.) 
 
 IT was a day of gloom and horror at Acla. when Vasco Nunez 
 and his companions were led forth to execution. The populace 
 were moved to tears at the unhappy fate of a man whose gal 
 lant deeds had excited their admiration, and whose generous 
 qualities had won their hearts. Most of them regarded him as 
 the victim of a jealous tyrant : and even those who thought 
 him guilty, saw something brave and brilliant in the very crime 
 imputed to him. Such, however, was the general dread inspired 
 by the severe measures of Pedrarias. that no one dared to lift 
 up his voice, either in murmur or remonstrance. 
 
 The public crier walked before Vasco Xuriez. proclaiming. 
 "This is the punishment inflicted by command of the king and 
 his lieutenant. Don Pedrarias Davila. on this man. as a traitor 
 and an usurper of the territories of the crown." 
 
 "When Vasco Xuriez heard these words, he exclaimed indig 
 nantly. It is false : never did such a crime enter my mind. I 
 have ever served my king with truth and loyalty, and sought 
 to augment his dominions." 
 
 These words were of no avail in his extremity, but they were 
 fully believed by the populace. 
 
 The execution took place in the public square of Acla : and 
 we are assured by the historian. Oviedo. who was in the colony 
 at the time, that the cruel Pedrarias was a secret witiu as : 
 the bloody spectacle, which he contemplated from between tluj 
 
178 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. , 
 
 reeds of the wall of a house, about twelve paces from the scaf 
 fold!* 
 
 Vasco Nunez was the first to suffer death. Having confessed 
 himself and partaken of the sacrament, he ascended the scaffold 
 with a firm step and a calm and manly demeanour ; and lay 
 ing his head upon the block, it was severed in an instant from 
 his body. Three of his officers, Valderrabano, Botello, and 
 Hernan Muiios, were in like manner brought one by one to the 
 block, and the day had nearly expired before the last of them 
 was executed. 
 
 One victim still remained. It was Hernan de Arguello, who 
 had been condemned as an accomplice, for having written the 
 intercepted letter. 
 
 The populace could no longer restrain their feelings. They 
 had not dared to intercede for Vasco Nunez, knowing the im 
 placable enmity of Pedrarias ; but they now sought the gover 
 nor, and throwing themselves at his feet, entreated that this 
 man might be spared, as he had taken no active part in the 
 alleged treason. The daylight, they said, was at an end, and it 
 seemed as if God had hastened the night, to prevent the execu 
 tion. 
 
 The stern heart of Pedrarias was not to be touched. " No," 
 said he, "I would sooner die myself than spare one of them." 
 The unfortunate Arguello was led to the block. The brief 
 tropical twilight was past, and in the gathering gloom of the 
 night the operations on the scaffold could not be distinguished. 
 The multitude stood listening in breathless silence, until the 
 stroke of the executioner told that all was accomplished. They 
 then dispersed to their homes with hearts filled with grief and 
 bitterness, and a night of lamentation succeeded to this day of 
 horrors. 
 
 The vengeance of Pedrarias was not satisfied with the death 
 of his victim ; he confiscated his property and dishonoured his 
 remains, causing his head to be placed upon a pole and exposed 
 for several days in the public square, f 
 
 Thus perished, in his forty-second year, in the prime and 
 vigour of his days and the full career of his glory, one of the 
 most illustrious and deserving of the Spanish discoverers a 
 victim to the basest and most perfidious envy. 
 
 How vain are our most confident hopes, our brightest tri 
 umphs! When Vasco Nunez from the mountains of Darien 
 
 * Oviedo, Hist. Ind. p. 2, c. 9, MS. t Oviedo, ubi sup. 
 
 I 
 
VA8CO NUNEZ DE BALBOA. 179 
 
 beheld the Southern Ocean revealed to his gaze, he considered 
 its unknown realms at his disposal. When he had launched 
 his ships upon its waters, and his sails were in a manner nap 
 ping in the wind, to bear him in quest of the wealthy empire of 
 Peru, he scoffed at the prediction of the astrologer, and defied 
 the influence of the stars. Behold him interrupted at the very 
 moment of his departure ; betrayed into the hands of his most 
 invidious foe ; the very enterprise that was to have crowned 
 liim with glory wrested into a crime ; and himself hurried to a 
 bloody and ignominious grave, at the foot, as it were, of the 
 mountain from whence he had made his discovery ! His fate, 
 like that of his renowned predecessor, Columbus, proves that 
 it is sometimes dangerous even to discern too greatly ! 
 
180 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 THE FORTUNES OF VALDIVIA AND HIS COM 
 PANIONS. 
 
 IT was in the year 1512 that Valdivia, the regidor of Darien, 
 was sent to Hispaniola by Vasco Nimez de Balboa for rein 
 forcements and supplies for the colony. He set sail in a cara 
 vel, and pursued his voyage prosperously until he arrived in 
 sight of the Island of Jamaica. Here he was encountered by 
 one of the violent hurricanes which sweep those latitudes, and 
 driven on the shoals and sunken rocks called the Vipers, since 
 infamous for many a shipwreck. His vessel soon went to 
 pieces, and Valdivia and his crew, consisting of twenty men, 
 escaped with difficulty in the boat, without having time to 
 secure a supply either of water or provisions. Having no sails, 
 and their oars being scarcely fit for use, they were driven 
 about for thirteen days, at the mercy of the currents of those 
 unknown seas. During this time their sufferings from hunger 
 and thirst were indescribable. Seven of their number perished, 
 and the rest were nearly famished, when they were stranded 
 on the eastern coast of Yucatan, in a province called Maya. 
 Here they were set upon by the natives, who broke their boat 
 in pieces, and carried them off captive to the cacique of the 
 province, by whose orders they .were mewed up in a kind of 
 pen. 
 
 At first their situation appeared tolerable enough considering 
 the horrors from which they had escaped. They were closely 
 confined, it is true, but they had plenty to eat and drink, and 
 soon began to recover flesh and vigour. In a little while, how 
 ever, their enjoyment of this good cheer met with a sudden 
 check, for the unfortunate Valdivia, and four of his companions, 
 were singled out by the cacique, on account of their improved 
 condition, to be offered up to his idols. The natives of this 
 coast in fact were cannibals, devouring the flesh of their enemies 
 and of such strangers as fell into their hands. The wretched 
 Valdivia and his fellow victims, therefore, were sacrificed in 
 
THE FORTUNES OF VALDIVIA. 181 
 
 the bloody temple of the idol, and their limbs afterwards served 
 up at a grand feast held by the cacique and his subjects. 
 
 The horror of the survivors may be more readily imagined 
 than described. Their hearts died within them when they 
 heard the yells and howlings of the savages over their victims, 
 and the still more horrible revelry of their cannibal orgies. 
 They turned with loathing from the food set so abundantly be 
 fore them, at the idea that it was but intended to fatten them 
 for a future banquet. 
 
 Recovering from the first stupor of alarm, their despair lent 
 them additional force. They succeeded in breaking, in the 
 night, from the kind of cage in which they were confined, and 
 fled to the depths of the forest. Here they wandered about 
 forlorn, exposed to all the dangers and miseries of the wilder 
 ness; famishing with hunger, yet dreading to approach the 
 haunts of men. At length their sufferings drove them forth 
 from the woods into another part of the country, where they 
 were again taken captive. The cacique of this province, how 
 ever, was an enemy to the one from whom they had escaped, 
 and of less cruel propensities. He spared their lives, and con 
 tented himself with making them slaves, exacting from them 
 the severest labour. They had to cut and draw wood, to pro 
 cure water from a distance, and to carry enormous burthens. 
 Tha cacique died soon after their capture, and was succeeded 
 by another called Taxmar. He was a chief of some talent and 
 sagacity, but he continued the same rigorous treatment of the 
 captives. By degrees they sank beneath the hardships of their 
 lot, until only two were left; one of them, a sturdy sailor 
 named Gonzalo Guerrero, the other a kind of clerical adven 
 turer, named Jeronimo de Aguilar. The sailor had the good 
 luck to be transferred to the service of the cacique of the neigh 
 bouring province of Chatemal, by whom he was treated with 
 kindness. Being a thorough son of the ocean, seasoned to all 
 weathers, and ready for any chance or change, he soon accom 
 modated himself to his new situation, followed the cacique to 
 the wars, rose by his hardihood and prowess to be a distin 
 guished warrior, and succeeded in gaining the heart and hand 
 of an Indian princess. 
 
 The other survivor, Jeronimo de Aguilar, was of a different 
 complexion. He was a native of Ecija in Andalusia., and had 
 been brought, up to the church and regularly ordained, and 
 shortly afterwards had sailed in one of the expeditions to San 
 Domingo, from whence he had passed to Darien. 
 
182 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 He proceeded in a different mode from that adopted by his 
 comrade the sailor in his dealings with the Indians, and in one 
 more suited to his opposite calling. Instead of playing the hero 
 among the men and the gallant among the women, he recol 
 lected his priestly obligations to humility and chastity. Ac 
 cordingly, he made himself a model of meekness and obedi 
 ence to the cacique and his warriors, while he closed his eyes 
 to the charms of the infidel women. Nay, in the latter re 
 spect, he reinforced his clerical vows by a solemn promise to 
 God to resist all temptations of the flesh so he might be deliv 
 ered out of the hands of these Gentiles. 
 
 Such were the opposite measures of the sailor and the saint, 
 and they appear to have been equally successful. Aguilar, by 
 his meek obedience to every order, however arbitrary and 
 capricious, gradually won the good- will of the cacique and his 
 family. Taxmar, however, subjected him to many trials be 
 fore he admitted him to his entire confidence. One day when 
 the Indians, painted and decorated in warlike style, were 
 shooting at a mark, a warrior, who had for some time fixed 
 his eyes on Aguilar, approached suddenly and seized him by 
 the arm. " Thou seest," said he, " the certainty of .these arch 
 ers ; if they aim at the eye, they hit the eye if at the mouth, 
 they hit the mouth what wouldst thou think if thou wert to 
 be placed instead of the mark and they were to shoot at and 
 miss thee?" 
 
 Aguilar secretly trembled lest he should be the victim of 
 some cruel caprice of the kind. Dissembling his fears, how 
 ever, he replied with great submission, I am your slave and 
 you may do with me as you please, but you are too wise to 
 destroy a slave who is so useful and obedient." His answer 
 pleased the cacique, who had secretly sent this warrior to try 
 his humility. 
 
 Another trial of the worthy Jeronimo was less stern and 
 fearful indeed, but equally perplexing. The cacique had re 
 marked his unexampled discretion with respect to the sex, but 
 doubted his sincerity. After laying many petty temptations 
 in his way, which Jeronimo resisted with the self-denial of a 
 saint, he at length determined to subject him to a fiery ordeal. 
 He accordingly sent him on a fishing expedition accompanied 
 by a buxom damsel of fourteen years of age ; they were to pass 
 the night by the sea-side, so as to be ready to fish at the first 
 dawn of day, and were allowed but one hammock to sleep in. 
 It was an embarrassing predicament not apparently to the 
 
THE FORTUNES OF VALDIVIA. 183 
 
 Indian beauty, but certainly to the scrupulous Jeronimo. He 
 remembered, however, his double vow, and, suspending his 
 hammock to two trees, resigned it to his companion; while, 
 lighting a fire on the sea-shore, he stretched himself before it 
 on the sand. It was, as he acknowledged, a night of fearful 
 trial, for his sandy couch was cold and cheerless, the hammock 
 warm and tempting; and the infidel damsel had been in 
 structed to assail him with all manner of blandishments and 
 reproaches. His resolution, however, though often shaken, 
 was never overcome ; and the morning dawned upon him still 
 faithful to his vow. 
 
 The fishing over, he returned to the residence of the cacique, 
 where his companion, being closely questioned, made known 
 the triumph of his self-denial before all the people. From that 
 time forward he was held in great respect ; tke cacique espe 
 cially treated him with unlimited confidence, entrusting to htm 
 the care not merely of his house, but of his wives during his 
 occasional absence. 
 
 Aguilar now felt ambitious of rising to greater consequence 
 among the savages, but this he knew was only to be done by 
 deeds of arms. He had the example of the sturdy seaman, 
 Gonzalo Guerrero, before his eyes, who had become a great 
 captain in the province in which he resided. He entreated 
 Taxmar, therefore, to entrust him with bow and arrows, buck 
 ler and war-club, and to enroll him among his warriors. The 
 cacique complied. Aguilar soon made himself expert at his 
 new weapons, signalized himself repeatedly in battle, and 
 from his superior knowledge of the arts of war, rendered Tax- 
 mar such essential service, as to excite the jealousy of some of 
 the neighbouring caciques. One of them remonstrated with 
 Taxmar for employing a warrior who was of a different religion, 
 and insisted that Aguilar should be sacrificed to their gods. 
 "No," replied Taxmar, "I will not make so base a return 
 for such signal services; surely the gods of Aguilar must be 
 good, since they aid him so effectually in maintaining a just 
 cause." 
 
 The cacique was so incensed at this reply that he assembled 
 his warriors and marched to make war upon Taxmar. Many 
 of the counsellors of the latter urged him to give up the 
 stranger who was the cause of this hostility. Taxmar, how 
 ever, rejected their counsel with disdain and prepared for bat 
 tle. Aguilar assured him that his faith in the Christian s God 
 would be rewarded with victory ; he, in fact, concerted a plarr 
 
184 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 of battle which was adopted. Concealing himself with a 
 chosen band of warriors among thickets and herbage, he suf 
 fered the enemy to pass by in making their attack. Taxmar 
 and his host pretended to give way at the first onset. The foe 
 rushed heedlessly in pursuit ; whereupon Aguilar and his am 
 buscade assaulted them in the rear. Taxmar turned upon 
 them in front; they were thrown in confusion, routed with 
 great slaughter, and many of their chiefs taken prisoners. 
 This victory gave Taxmar the sway over the land, and 
 strengthened Aguilar more than ever in his good graces. 
 
 Several years, had elapsed in this manner, when, in 1517, 
 intelligence was brought to the province of the arrival on the 
 neighbouring coast of great vessels of wonderful construction, 
 filled with white and bearded men, who fought with thunder 
 and lightning. It was, in fact, the squadron of Francisco 
 Hernandez de Cordova, then on a voyage of discovery. The 
 tidings of this strange invasion spread consternation through 
 foe country, heightened, if we may credit the old Spanish 
 writers, by a prophecy current among the savages of these 
 parts, and uttered in former times by a priest named Chilam 
 Jambal, who foretold that a white and bearded people would 
 some from the region of the rising sun, who would overturn 
 tfieir idols and subjugate the land. 
 
 The heart of Jeronimo de Aguilar beat quick with hope when 
 4e heard of European ships at hand ; he was distant from the 
 joast, however, and perceived that he was too closely watched 
 6y the Indians to have any chance of escape. Dissembling his 
 feelings, therefore, he affected to hear of the ships with per 
 fect indifference, and to have no desire to join f -he strangers. 
 The ships disappeared from the coast, and he remained dis 
 consolate at heart, but was regarded with increased confidence 
 by the natives. 
 
 His hopes were again revived in the course of a year or two 
 by the arrival on the coast of other ships, which were those 
 commanded by Juan de Grijalva, who coasted Yucatan in 
 1518; Aguilar, however, was again prevented by the jealous 
 watchfulness of the Indians from attempting his escape, and 
 when this squadron left the coast he considered all chance of 
 deliverance at an end. 
 
 Seven years had gone by since his capture, and he had given 
 up all hopes of being restored to his country and friends, when, 
 in 1519, there arrived one day at the village three Indians, 
 natives of the small island of Cozumel, which lies a few 
 
THE FORTUNES OF VALDIVIA. 185 
 
 leagues in the sea, opposite the eastern coast of Yucatan. 
 They brought tidings of another visit of white bearded men 
 to their shores, and one of them delivered a letter to Aguilar, 
 which, being entirely naked, he had concealed it in the long 
 tresses of his hair which were bound round his head. 
 
 Aguilar received the letter with wonder and delight, and 
 read it in presence of the cacique and his warriors. It proved 
 to be from Hernando Cortez, who was at that time on his 
 great expedition, which ended in the conquest of Mexico. He 
 had been obliged by stress of weather to anchor at the island 
 of Cozumel, where he learned from the natives that several 
 white men were detained in captivity among the Indians on 
 the neighbouring coast of Yucatan. Finding it impossible to 
 approach the mainland with his ships, he prevailed upon three 
 of the islanders, by means of gifts and promises, to venture 
 upon an embassy among their cannibal neighbours, and to 
 convey a letter to the captive white men. Two of the smallest 
 caravels of the squadron were sent under the command of 
 Diego de Ordas, vho was ordered to land the three messengers 
 at the point of Cotoche, and to wait there eight days for their 
 return. 
 
 The letter brought by these envoys informed the Christian 
 captives of the force and destination of the squadron of Cortez, 
 and of his having sent the caravels to wait for them at the 
 point of Cotoche, with a ransom for their deliverance, inviting 
 them to hasten and join him at Cozumel. 
 
 The transport of Aguilar on first reading the letter was mod 
 erated when he reflected on the obstacles that might prevent 
 him from profiting by this chance of deliverance. He had 
 made himself too useful to the cacique to hope that he would 
 readily give him his liberty, and he knew the jealous and irri 
 table nature of the savages too well not to fear that even an 
 application for leave to depart might draw upon him the 
 severest treatment. He endeavoured, therefore, to operate 
 upon the cacique through his apprehensions. To this end he 
 informed him that the piece of paper which he held in his 
 hand brought him a full account of the mighty armament that 
 had arrived on the coast. He described the number of the 
 ships and various particulars concerning the squadron, all 
 which were amply corroborated by the testimony of the mes 
 sengers. The cacique and his warriors were astonished at this 
 strange mode of conveying intelligence from a distance, and 
 regarded the letter as something mysterious and supernatural. 
 
186 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 Aguilar went on to relate the tremendous and superhuman 
 powers of the people in these ships, who, armed with thunder 
 and lightning, wreaked destruction on all who displeased 
 them, while they dispensed inestimable gifts and benefits on 
 such as proved themselves their friends. He at the same time 
 spread before the cacique various presents brought by the 
 messengers, as specimens of the blessings to be expected from 
 the friendship of the strangers. The intimation was effectual. 
 The cacique was filled with awe at the recital of the terrific 
 powers of the white men, and his eyes were dazzled by the 
 glittering trinkets displayed before him. He entreated Aguilar, 
 therefore, to act as his ambassador and mediator, and to 
 secure him the amity of the strangers. 
 
 Aguilar saw with transport the prospect of a speedy deliver 
 ance. In this moment of exultation, he bethought himself of 
 the only surviving comrade of his past fortunes, Gonzalo 
 Guerrero, and, sending the letter of Cortez to him, invited 
 him to accompany him in his escape. The sturdy seaman 
 was at this time a great chieftain in his province, and his 
 Indian bride had borne him a numerous progeny. His heart, 
 however, yearned after his native country, and he might have 
 been tempted to leave his honours and dignities, his infidel 
 wife and lialf-savage offspring behind him, but an insuperable, 
 though somewhat ludicrous, obstacle presented itself to his 
 wishes. Having long since given over all expectation of a 
 return to civilized life, he had conformed to the customs of 
 the country, and had adopted the external signs and decora 
 tions that marked him as a warrior and a man of rank. His 
 face and hands were indelibly painted or tattooed ; his ears 
 and lips were slit to .admit huge Indian ornaments, and his 
 nose was drawn down almost to his mouth by a massy ring of 
 gold, and a dangling jewel. 
 
 Thus curiously garbled and disfigured, the honest seaman 
 felt, that however he might be admired in Yucatan, he should 
 be apt to have the rabble at his heels in Spain. He made up 
 his mind, therefore, to remain a great man among the sav 
 ages, rather than run the risk of being shown as a man- 
 monster at home. 
 
 Finding that he declined accompanying him, Jeronimo de 
 Aguilar set off for the point of Cotoche, escorted by three 
 Indians. The time he had lost in waiting for Guerrero had 
 nearly proved fatal to his hopes, for when he arrived at the 
 point, the caravels sent by Cortez had departed, though sev- 
 
THE FORTUNES OF VALDIVIA. 187 
 
 eral crosses of reeds set up in different places gave tokens of 
 the recent presence of Christians. 
 
 The only hope that remained, was that the squadron of 
 Cortez might yet linger at the opposite island of Cozumel ; but 
 how was he to get there? While wandering disconsolately along 
 the shore, he found a canoe, half buried in sand and water, 
 and with one side in a state of decay ; with the assistance of 
 the Indians he cleaned it, and set it afloat, and on looking 
 further he found the stave of a hogshead which might serve 
 for a paddle. It was a frail embarkation in which to cross an 
 arm of the sea, seven leagues wide, but there was no alter 
 native. Prevailing on the Indians to accompany him, he 
 launched forth in the canoe and coasted the main land until 
 he came to the narrowest part of the strait, where it was but 
 four leagues across ; here he stood directly for Cozumel, con 
 tending, as well as he was able, with a strong current, and at 
 length succeeded in reaching the island. 
 
 He had scarce landed when a party of Spaniards, who had 
 been lying in wait, rushed forth from their concealment, sword 
 in hand. The three Indians would have fled, but Aguilar re 
 assured them, and, calling out to the Spaniards in their own 
 language, assured them that he was a Christian. Then throw 
 ing himself upon his knees, and raising his eyes, streaming 
 with tears, to heaven, he gave thanks to God for having re 
 stored him to his countrymen. 
 
 The Spaniards gazed at him with astonishment: from his 
 language he was evidently a Castilian, but to all appearance 
 he was an Indian. He was perfectly naked; wore his hair 
 braided round his head in the manner of the country, and his 
 complexion was burnt by the sun to a tawny colour. He had 
 a bow in his hand, a quiver at his shoulder, and a net-work 
 pouch at his side in which he carried his provisions. 
 
 The Spaniards proved to be a reconnoitering party, sent out 
 by Cortez to watch the approach of the canoe, which had been 
 descried coming from Yucatan. Cortez had given up all hopes 
 of being joined by the captives, the caravel having waited the 
 allotted time at Cotoche, and returned without news of them. 
 He had, in fact, made sail to prosecute his voyage, but fortu 
 nately one of his ships had sprung a leak, which had obliged 
 him to return to the island. 
 
 When Jeronimo de Aguilar and his companions arrived in 
 presence of Cortez, who was surrounded by his officers, they 
 made a profound reverence, squatted on the ground, laid their 
 
188 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCO VEllY. 
 
 bows and arrows beside them, and touching their right hands, 
 wet with spittle, on the ground, rubbed them about the region 
 of the heart, such being their sign of the most devoted sub 
 mission. 
 
 Cortcz greeted Aguilar with a hearty welcome, and raising 
 him from the earth, took from his own person a large yellow 
 mantle lined with crimson, and threw it over his shoulders. 
 The latter, however, had for so long a time gone entirely 
 naked, that even this scanty covering was at first almost in 
 supportable, and he had become so accustomed to the diet of 
 the natives, that he found it difficult to reconcile his stomach 
 to the meat and drink set before him. 
 
 When he had sufficiently recovered from the agitation of his 
 arrival among Christians, Cortez drew from him the particu 
 lars of his story, and found that he was related to one of his 
 awn friends, the licentiate Marcos de Aguilar. He treated 
 him, therefore, with additional kindness and respect, and re 
 tained him about his person to aid him as an interpreter in his 
 great Mexican expedition. 
 
 The happiness of Jeronimo de Aguilar at once more being 
 restored to his countrymen, was doomed to suffer some alloy 
 from the disasters that had happened in his family. Peter 
 Martyr records a touching anecdote of the effect that had been 
 produced upon his mother by the tidings of his misfortune. A 
 vague report had reached her in Spain that her son had fallen 
 into the hands of cannibals. All the horrible tales that circu 
 lated in Spain concerning the treatment of these savages to 
 their prisoners, rushed to her imagination, and she went dis 
 tracted. Whenever she beheld roasted meat, or flesh upon the 
 spit, she would fill the house with her outcries. Oh, wretched 
 mother! oh, most miserable of women!" would she exclaim, 
 " behold the limbs of my murdered son." * 
 
 It is to be hoped that the tidings of his deliverance had a 
 favourable effect upon her intellect, and that she lived to re 
 joice at his after-fortunes. He served Hernando Cortez with 
 great courage and ability throughout his Mexican conquests, 
 acting sometimes as a soldier, sometimes as interpreter and 
 ambassador to the Indians, and, in reward of his fidelity and 
 services, was appointed regidor, or civil governor of the city 
 of Mexico. 
 
 * P. Martyr, decad. 4, c. 6. 
 
NICER CODRO, THE ASTROLOGER. . 189 
 
 MICER CODRO, THE ASTROLOGER. 
 
 THE fate of the Italian astrologer, Micer Codro, who pre 
 dicted the end of Vasco Nunez, is related by the historian 
 Oviedo, with some particulars that border upon the marvel 
 ous. It appears that after the death of his patron, he con 
 tinued for several years rambling about the New World in the 
 train of the Spanish discoverers ; but intent upon studying the 
 secrets of its natural history, rather than searching after its 
 treasures. 
 
 In the course of his wanderings he was once coasting the 
 shores of the Southern ocean in a ship commanded by one 
 Greronimo de Valenzuela, from whom he received such cruel 
 treatment as to cause his death, though what the nature of the 
 treatment was, we are not precisely informed. 
 
 Finding his end approaching, the unfortunate astrologer ad 
 dressed Valenzuela in the most solemn manner: "Captain," 
 said he, "you have caused my death by your cruelty; I now 
 summon you to appear with me, within a year, before the 
 judgment seat of God !" 
 
 The captain made a light and scoffing answer, and treated 
 his summons with contempt. 
 
 They were then off the coast of Veragua, near the verdant 
 islands of Zebaco, which lie at the entrance of the Gulf of 
 Paria. The poor astrologer gazed wistfully with his dying 
 eyes upon the green and shady groves, and entreated the pilot 
 or mate of the caravel to land him on one of the islands, that 
 he might die in peace. " Micer Codro, " replied the pilot, those 
 are not islands, but points of land ; there are no islands here 
 about." 
 
 "There are, indeed," replied the astrologer, "two good and 
 pleasant islands, well watered, and near to the coast, and 
 within them is a great bay with a harbor. Land me, I pray 
 you, upon one of these islands, that I may have comfort in my 
 dying hour." 
 
190 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 The pilot, whose rough nature had been touched with pity 
 for the condition of the unfortunate astrologer, listened to his 
 prayer, and conveyed him to the shore, where he found the 
 opinion he had given of the character of the coast to be cor 
 rect. He laid him on the herbage in the shade, where the poor 
 wanderer soon expired. The pilot then dug a grave at the foot 
 of a tree, where he buried him with all possible decency, and, 
 carved a cross on the bark to mark the grave. 
 
 Some time afterwards, Oviedo, the historian, was on the 
 island with this very pilot, who showed him the cross on the 
 tree, and gave his honest testimony to the good character and 
 worthy conduct of Micer Codro. Oviedo, as he regarded the 
 nameless grave, passed the eulogium of a scholar upon the 
 poor astrologer: " He died," says he, "like Pliny, in the dis 
 charge of his duties, travelling about the world to explore the 
 secrets of nature. " According to his account, the prediction 
 of Micer Codro held good with respect to Valenzuela, as it had 
 in the case of Vasco Nunez. The captain died within the term 
 in which he had summoned him to appear before the tribunal 
 of God.* 
 
 * Vide Oviedo, Hist. Gen. 1. xxxtx. . 2 
 
JUAN PONCE DE LEON. 191 
 
 JUAN PONCE DE LEON 
 
 CONQUEROR OF PORTO RICO AND DISCOVERER OF FLORIDA. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 EECONNOITERING EXPEDITION OF JUAN PONCE DE LEON TO THE 
 ISLAND OF BORIQUEN. (1508.) 
 
 MANY years had elapsed since the discovery and coloniza 
 tion of Hayti, yet its neighbouring island of Boriquen, or, as 
 the Spaniards called it, St. Juan, (since named Porto Rico,) re 
 mained unexplored. It was beautiful to the eye as beheld 
 Jtrom the sea, having lofty mountains clothed with forest treefe 
 of prodigious size and magnificent foliage. There were broad 
 fertile valleys also, always fresh and green ; for the frequent 
 showers and abundant streams in these latitudes, and the al> 
 sence*of all wintry frost, produce a perpetual verdure. Various 
 ships had occasionally touched at the island, but their crews 
 had never penetrated into the interior. It was evident, how 
 ever, from the number of hamlets and scattered houses, and 
 the smoke rising in all directions from among the trees, that it 
 was well peopled. The inhabitants still continued to enjoy 
 their life of indolence and freedom, unmolested by the ills that 
 overwhelmed the neighbouring island of Hayti. The time had 
 arrived, however, when they were to share the common lot of 
 their fellow savages, and to sink beneath the yoke of the white 
 man. 
 
 At the time when Nicholas de Ovando, Governor of Hispani- 
 ola, undertook to lay waste the great province of Higuey, 
 which lay at the eastern end of Hayti, he sent, as commander 
 of part of the troops, a veteran soldier named Juan Ponce de 
 Leon. He was a native of Leon, in Spain, and in his boyhood 
 had been page to Pedro Nuiiez de Guzman, Senor of Toral.* 
 
 *Iacas, Garcilaso de la Vega, Hist. Florida, t. iv. c. 37. 
 
192 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 From an early age he had been schooled to war, and had served 
 in the various campaigns against the Moors of Granada. He 
 accompanied Columbus in his second voyage in 1493, and was 
 afterwards, it is said, one of the partisans of Francisco Roldan, 
 in his rebellion against the admiral. Having distinguished him 
 self in various battles with the Indians, and acquired a name 
 for sagacity as well as valour, he received a command subor 
 dinate to Juan de Esquibel, in the campaign against Higuey, 
 and seconded his chief so valiantly in that sanguinary expedi 
 tion, that after the subjugation of the province he was ap 
 pointed to the command of it, as lieutenant of the Governor of 
 Hispaniola. 
 
 Juan Ponce de Leon had all the impatience of quiet life and 
 the passion for exploit of a veteran campaigner. He had not 
 been long in the tranquil command of his province of Higuey, 
 before he began to cast a wistful eye towards the green moun 
 tains of Boriquen. They were directly opposite, and but 
 twelve or fourteen leagues distant, so as to be distinctly seen 
 in the transparent atmosphere of the tropics. The Indians of 
 the two islands frequently visited each ot her, and in this way 
 Juan Ponce received the usual intelligence that the mountains 
 ne had eyed so wistfully abounded with gold. He readily ob 
 tained permission from Governor Ovando to make an expedi 
 tion to this island, and embarked in the year 1508 in a caravel, 
 with a few Spaniards and several Indian interpreters and 
 guides. 
 
 After an easy voyage he landed on the woody shores of the 
 island, near to the residence of the principal cacique, Aguey- 
 bana. He found the chieftain seated in patriarchal style under 
 the shade of his native groves and surrounded by his family, 
 consisting of his mother, step-father, brother, and sister, who 
 vied with each other in paying homage to the strangers. Juan 
 Ponce, in fact, was received into the bosom of the family, and 
 the cacique exchanged names with him, which is the Indian 
 pledge of perpetual amity. Juan Ponce also gave Christian 
 names to the mother and step-father of the cacique, and would 
 fain have baptized them, but they declined the ceremony, 
 though they always took a pride in the names thus given 
 them. 
 
 In his zeal to gratify his guests the cacique took them to vari 
 ous parts of the island. They found the interior to correspond 
 with the external appearance. It was wild and mountainous, 
 but magnificently wooded, with deep rich valleys fertilized by 
 
JUAN PONCE DE LEON. 193 
 
 limpid streams. Juan Ponce requested the cacique to reveal 
 to him the riches of the island. The simple Indian showed him 
 his most productive fields of Yuca, the groves laden with the 
 most delicious fruit, the sweetest and purest fountains, and the 
 coolest runs of water. 
 
 Ponce de Leon heeded but little these real blessings, and de 
 manded whether the island produced no gold. Upon this, the 
 cacique conducted him to two rivers, the Manatuabon and the 
 Zebuco, where the very pebbles seemed richly veined with gold, 
 and large grains shone among the sand through the limpid 
 water. Some of the largest of these were gathered by the In 
 dians and given to the Spaniards. The quantity thus procured 
 confirmed the hopes of Juan Ponce ; and leaving several of his 
 companions in the house of the hospitable cacique, he returned 
 to Hayti to report the success of his expedition. He presented 
 the specimens of gold to the Governor Ovando, who assayed 
 them in a crucible. The ore was not so fine as that of Hispani- 
 ola, but as it was supposed to exist in greater quantities, the 
 Governor determined on the subjugation of the island, and con 
 fided the enterprise to Juan Ponce de Leon. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 JUAN PONCE ASPIRES TO THE GOVERNMENT OF PORTO RICO. 
 
 (1509.) 
 
 THE natives of Boriquen were more warlike than those of 
 Hispaniola ; being accustomed to the use of arms from the ne 
 cessity of repelling the frequent invasions of the Caribs. It 
 was supposed, therefore, that the conquest of their island 
 would be attended with some difficulty, and Juan Ponce de 
 Leon made another, as it were a preparatory visit, to make 
 himself acquainted with the country, and with the nature and 
 resources of the inhabitants. He found the companions, whom 
 he had left there on his foianer visit, in good health and spirits, 
 and full of gratitude towards the. cacique Agueybana, who had 
 treated them with undiminished hospitality. There appeared 
 to be no need of violence to win the island from such simple- 
 hearted and confiding people. Juan Ponce flattered himself 
 with the hopes of being appointed to its government by Ovando, 
 
 - 
 
194 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 and of bringing it peaceably into subjection. After remaining 
 some time on the island, he returned to San Domingo to seek 
 the desired appointment, but, to his surprise, found the whole 
 face of affairs had changed during his absence. 
 
 His patron, the Governor Ovando, had been recalled to 
 Spain, and Don Diego Columbus, son of the renowned discov 
 erer, appointed in his place to the command at San Domingo. 
 To add to the perplexities of Juan Ponce, a cavalier had already 
 arrived from Spain, empowered by the king to form a settle 
 ment and build a fortress on the island of Porto Rico. His 
 name was Christoval de Sotomayor; he was brother to the 
 Count of Camina, and had been secretary to Philip I., sur- 
 named the Handsome, king of Castile, and father of Charles V. 
 
 Don Diego Columbus was highly displeased with the act of 
 the king in granting these powers to Sotomayor, as it had been 
 done without his knowledge and consent, and of course in dis 
 regard of his prerogative as viceroy, to be consulted as to all 
 appointments made within his jurisdiction. He refused, there 
 fore, to put Sotomayor in possession of the island. He paid as 
 little respect to the claims of Juan Ponce de Leon, whom he 
 regarded with an ungracious eye as a favourite of his prede 
 cessor Ovando. To settle the matter effectually, he exerted 
 what he considered his official and hereditary privilege, and 
 chose officers to suit himself, appointing one Juan Ceron to the 
 government of Porto Rico, and Miguel Diaz to serve as his 
 lieutenant.* 
 
 Juan Ponce de Leon and his rival candidate, Christoval de 
 Sotomayor, bore their disappointment with a good grace. 
 Though the command was denied them, they still hoped to im 
 prove their fortunes in the island, and accordingly joined the 
 crowd of adventurers that accompanied the newly appointed 
 governor. 
 
 New changes soon took place in consequence of the jealousies 
 and misunderstandings between King Ferdinand and the admi 
 ral as to points of privilege. The former still seemed disposed to 
 maintain the right of making appointments without consulting 
 Don Diego, and exerted it in the present instance ; for, when 
 Ovando, on his return to Spain, made favourable representation 
 of the merits of Juan Ponce de Leon, and set forth his services 
 
 * If the reader has perused the history of Columbus, he may remember the ro 
 mantic adventure of this Miguel Diaz with a female cacique, which led to the dis 
 covery of the gold mines of Hayna, and the founding of the city of San Domingo. 
 
JUAN PONCE DE LEON. 195 
 
 in exploring Porto Eico, the king appointed him governor of 
 that island, and signified specifically that Don Diego Columbus 
 should not presume to displace him. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 JUAN PONCE RULES WITH A STRONG HAND EXASPERATION OF 
 THE INDIANS THEIR EXPERIMENT TO PROVE WHETHER THE 
 SPANIARDS WERE MORTAL. 
 
 JUAN PONCE DE LEON assumed the command of the island 
 of Boriquen in the year 1509. Being a fiery, high-handed old 
 soldier, his first step was to quarrel with Juan Ceron and 
 Miguel Diaz, the ex-governor and his lieutenant, and to send 
 them prisoners to Spain.* 
 
 He was far more favourable to his late competitor, Christoval 
 de Sotomayor. Finding him to be a cavalier of noble blood 
 and high connexions, yet void of pretension, and of most ac 
 commodating temper, he offered to make him his lieutenant, 
 and to give him the post of Alcalde Mayor, an offer which was 
 very thankfully accepted. 
 
 The pride of rank, however, which follows a man even into 
 the wilderness, soon interfered with the quiifc of Sotomayor ; 
 he was ridiculed for descending so much below his birth and 
 dignity, as to accept a subaltern situation to a simple gentleman 
 in the island which he had originally aspired to govern. He 
 could not withstand these sneers,* but resigned his appointment, 
 and remained in the island as a private individual ; establishing 
 himself in a village where ne had a large repartimiento or allot 
 ment of Indians assigned to him by a grant from the king. 
 
 Juan Ponce fixed his seat of government in a town called 
 Caparra, which he founded on the northern side of the island, 
 about a league from the sea, in a neighbourhood supposed to 
 abound in gold. It was in front of the port caUed Rico, which 
 subsequently gave its name to the island. The road to the 
 town was up a mountain, through a dense forest, and so rugged 
 and miry that it was the bane of man and beast. It cost more 
 to convey provisions and merchandise up this league of moun 
 tain than it had to bring them from Spain. 
 
 * Herrera, decad. 1, 1. vii. c. 15. 
 
196 tfPANTSH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 Juan Ponce, being firmly seated in his government, began to 
 carve and portion out the island, to found towns, and to dis 
 tribute the natives into repartimientos, for the purpose of 
 exacting their labour. 
 
 The poor Indians soon found the difference between the 
 Spaniards as guests, and the Spaniards as masters. They were 
 driven to despair by tht heavy tasks imposed upon them ; for 
 to their free spirits and indolent habits, restraint and labour 
 were worse than death. Many of the most hardy and daring 
 proposed a general insurrection, and a massacre of their oppres 
 sors; the great mass, however, were deterred by the belief that 
 the Spaniards were supernatural beings and could not be killed. 
 
 A shrewd and sceptical cacique named Brayoan determined 
 to put their immortalit^ to the test. Hearing that a young 
 Spaniard named Salzedo was passing through his lands, he 
 sent a party of his subjects to escort him, giving them secret 
 instructions how they were to act. On coming to a river they 
 took Salzedo on their shoulders to carry him across, but when 
 in the midst of the stream, they let him fall, and, throwing 
 themselves upon him, pressed him under water until he was 
 drowned. Then dragging his body to the shore, and still doubt 
 ing his being dead, they wept and howled over him, making a 
 thousand apologies for having fallen upon him, and kept him 
 so long beneath the surface. 
 
 The cacique Bravoan came to examine the body and pro 
 nounced it lifeless ; out the Indians, still fearing it might pos 
 sess lurking immortality and ultimately revive, kept watch 
 over it for three days, until it showed incontestable signs of 
 putrefaction. 
 
 Being now convinced that the strangers were mortal men 
 like themselves, they readily entered into a general conspiracy 
 to destroy them.* 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 CONSPIRACY OF THE CACIQUES THE FATE OF SOTOMAYOR. 
 
 THE prime mover of the conspiracy among the natives was 
 Agueybana, brother and successor to the hospitable cacique of 
 
 * Herrera, decad. 1, 1, yiii. c. 13. 
 
JUAN PONCE DE LEON. 197 
 
 the same name, who had first welcomed the Spaniards to the 
 island, and who had fortunately closed his eyes in peace, be 
 fore his native groves were made the scenes of violence and 
 oppression. The present cacique had fallen within the repar- 
 timiento of Don Christoval de Sotomayor, and, though treated 
 by that cavalier with kindness, could never reconcile his 
 proud spirit to the yoke of vassalage. 
 
 Agueybana held secret councils with his confederate ca 
 ciques, in which they concerted a plan of operations. As the 
 Spaniards were scattered about in different places, it was 
 agreed that, at a certain time, each cacique should dispatch 
 those Avithin his province In arranging the massacre of 
 those within his own domains, Agueybana assigned to one of 
 his inferior caciques the task of surprising the village of Soto 
 mayor, giving him 3,000 warriors for the purpose. He was to 
 assail the village in the dead of the night to set fire to the 
 houses, and to slaughter all the inhabitants. He proudly, 
 however, reserved to himself the honour of killing Don Chris 
 toval with his own hand. 
 
 Don Christoval had an unsuspected friend in Che very midst 
 of his enemies. Being a cavalier of gallant appearance and 
 amiable and courteous manners, he had won the affections of 
 an Indian princess, the sister of the cacique Agueybana. She 
 had overheard enough of the war-council of her brother and 
 his warriors to learn that Sotomayor was in danger. The life 
 of her lover was more precious in her eyes than the safety of 
 her brother and her tribe; hastening, therefore, to him, she 
 told him all that she knew or feared, and warned him to be 
 upon his guard. Sotomayor appears to have been of the most 
 easy and incautious nature, void of all evil and deceit himself, 
 and slow to suspect any thing of the kind in others. He con 
 sidered the apprehension of the princess as dictated by her 
 fond anxiety, and neglected to profit by her warning. 
 
 He received, however, about the same time, information 
 from a different quarter, tending to the same point. A Span 
 iard, versed in the language and customs of the natives, had 
 observed a number gathering together one evening, painted 
 and decorated as if for battle. Suspecting some lurking mis 
 chief, he stripped and painted himself in their manner, and, 
 favoured by the obscurity of the night, succeeded in mingling 
 among them undiscovered. They were assembled round a fire 
 performing one of their mystic war-dances, to the chant of an 
 Areyto or legendary ballad. The strophes and responses 
 
198 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 treated of revenge and slaughter, and repeatedly mentioned 
 the death of Sotomayor. 
 
 The Spaniard withdrew unperceived, and hastened to ap 
 prise Don Christ oval of his danger. The latter still made light 
 of these repeated warnings; revolving them, however, in his 
 mind in the stillness of the night, he began to feel some un 
 easiness, and determined to repair in the morning to Juan 
 Ponce de Leon, in his strong-hold at Caparra. With his fated 
 heedlessness, or temerity, however, he applied to Agueybana 
 for Indians to carry his baggage, and departed slightly armed, 
 and accompanied by but three Spaniards, although he had to 
 pass through close and lonely forests, where he would be at 
 the mercy of any treacherous or lurking foe. 
 
 The cacique watched the departure of his intended victim 
 and set out shortly afterwards, dogging his steps at a distance 
 through the forest, accompanied by a few chosen warriors. 
 Agueybana and his party had not proceeded far when they 
 met a Spaniard named Juan Gonzalez, who spoke the Indian 
 language. They immediately assailed him and wounded him 
 in several places. He threw himself at the feet of the cacique, 
 imploring his life in the most abject terms. The chief spared 
 nim for the moment, being eager to make sure of Don Christo- 
 val. He overtook that incautious cavalier in the very heart of 
 the woodland, and stealing silently upon him, burst forth sud 
 denly with his warriors from the covert of the thickets, giv 
 ing the fatal war whoop. Before Sotomayor could put himself 
 upon his guard a blow from the war club of the cacique felled 
 him to the earth, when he was quickly despatched by repeated 
 blows. The four Spaniards who accompanied him shared his 
 fate, being assailed, not merely by the warriors who had come 
 in pursuit of them, but by their own Indian guides. 
 
 When Agueybana had glutted his vengeance on this unfor 
 tunate cavalier, he returned in quest of Juan Gonzalez. The 
 latter, however, had recovered sufficiently from his wounds to 
 leave the place where he had been assailed, and, dreading the 
 return of the savages, had climbed into a tree and concealed 
 himself among the branches. From thence, with trembling 
 anxiety he watched his pursuers as they searched all the sur 
 rounding forest for him. Fortunately they did not think of 
 looking up into the trees, but, after beating th bushes for 
 some time, gave up the search. Though he saw them depart, 
 yet he did not venture from his concealment until the night 
 had closed; he then descended from the tree and made the 
 
JUAN PONCE DE LEON. 199 
 
 best of his way to the residence of certain Spaniards, where 
 his wounds were dressed. When this was done he waited not 
 to take repose, but repaired by a circuitous route to Caparra, 
 and informed Juan Ponce de Leon of the danger he supposed 
 to be still impending over Sotomay or, for he knew not that 
 the enemy had accomplished his death. Juan Ponce immedi 
 ately sent out forty men to his relief. They came to the scene 
 of massacre, where they found the body of the unfortunate 
 cavalier, partly buried, but with the feet out of the earth. 
 
 In the mean time the savages had accomplished the destruc 
 tion of the village of Sotomayor. They approached it unper- 
 ceived, through the surrounding forest, and entering it in the 
 dead of the night, set fire to the straw-thatched houses, and at 
 tacked the Spaniards as they endeavoured to escape from the 
 flames. 
 
 Several were slain at the onset, but a brave Spaniard, named 
 Diego de Salazar, rallied his countrymen, inspirited them to 
 beat off the enemy, and succeeded in conducting the greater 
 part of them, though sorely mangled and harassed, to the 
 strong-hold of the Governor at Caparra. Scarcely had these 
 fugitives gained the fortress, when others came hurrying in 
 from all quarters, bringing similar tales of conflagration and 
 massacre. For once a general insurrection, so often planned 
 in savage life, against the domination of the white men, was 
 crowned with success. All the villages founded by the Span 
 iards had been surprised, about a hundred of their inhabit 
 ants destroyed, and the survivors driven to take refuge in a 
 beleaguered fortress. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 WAR OF JUAN PONCE WITH THE CACIQUE AGUEYBANA. 
 
 JUAN PONCE DE LEON might now almost be considered a gov 
 ernor without territories, and a general without soldiers. His 
 villages were smoking ruins, and his whole force did not 
 amount to a hundred men, several of whom were disabled by 
 their wounds. He had an able and implacable foe in Aguey- 
 bana, who took the lead of all the other caciques, and even 
 sent envoys to the Caribs of the neighbouring islands, entreat 
 ing them to forget all ancient animosities, and to make com- 
 
200 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 mon cause against these strangers the deadly enemies of tho 
 whole Indian race. In the mean time the whole of this wild 
 island was in rebellion, and the forests around the fortress of 
 Caparra rang with the whoops and yells of the savages, the 
 blasts of their war conchs, and the stormy roaring of their 
 drums. 
 
 Juan Ponce was a staunch and wary old soldier, and not 
 easily daunted. He remained grimly ensconced within his 
 fortress, from whence he despatched messengers in all haste 
 to Hispaniola, imploring immediate assistance. In the mean 
 time he tasked his wits to divert the enemy and to keep them 
 at bay. He divided his little force into three bodies of about 
 thirty men each, under the command of Diego Salazar, Miguel 
 de Toro, and Luis de Anasco, and sent them out alternately to 
 make sudden surprises and assaults, to form ambuscades, and 
 to practice the other stratagems of partisan warfare, which he 
 had learnt in early life in his campaigns against the Moors of 
 Granada. 
 
 One of his most efficient warriors was a dog named Berezillo, 
 renowned for courage, strength and sagacity. It is said that 
 he could distinguish those of the Indians who were allies, from 
 those who were enemies of the Spaniards. To the former he 
 was docile and friendly, to the latter fierce and implacable. 
 He was the terror of the natives, who were unaccustomed to 
 powerful and ferocious animals, and did more service in this 
 wild warfare than could have been rendered by several 
 soldiers. His prowess was so highly appreciated that his 
 master received for him the pay-allowance, and share of booty, 
 assigned to a cross-bow man, which was the highest stipend 
 given.* 
 
 At length the stout old cavalier Juan Ponce was reinforced 
 in his strong-hold by troops from Hispaniola, whereupon he 
 sallied forth boldly to take revenge upon those who had thus 
 held him in a kind of durance. His foe Agueybana was at 
 that time encamped in his own territories with more than five 
 thousand warriors, but in a negligent, unwatchfnl state, for 
 he knew nothing of the reinforcements of the Spaniards, and 
 
 * This famous dog was killed some years afterwards by a poisoned arrow, as he 
 was swimming in the sea in pursuit of a Carib Indian. He left, however, a num 
 erous progeny and a gi-eat name behind him; and his merits and exploits were 
 long a favourite theme among the Spanish colonists. He was father to the 
 renowned Leoncico, the faithful dog of Vasco Nufiez, which resembled him in 
 looks and equalled him in prowess. 
 
JUAN PONCE DE LEON. %(}\ 
 
 supposed Juan Ponce shut up with his handful of men in 
 Caparra. The old soldier, therefore, took him completely 
 by surprise, and routed him with great slaughter. Indeed, it 
 is said the Indians were struck with a kind of panic when 
 they saw the Spaniards as numerous as ever, notwithstand 
 ing the number they had massacred. Their belief in their 
 immortality revived ; they fancied that those whom they had 
 slain had returned to life, and they despaired of victory over 
 beings who could thus arise with renovated vigour from the 
 grave. 
 
 Various petty actions and skirmishes afterwards took. place, 
 in which the Indians were defeated. Agueybana, however, 
 disdained this petty warfare, and stirred up his countrymen to 
 assemble their forces, and by one grand assault to decide the 
 fate of themselves and their island. Juan Ponce received 
 secret tidings of their intent, and of the place where they were 
 assembling. He had at that time barely eighty men at his 
 disposal, but then they were cased in steel and proof against 
 the weapons of the savages. Without stopping to reflect, the 
 nigh-mettled old cavalier put himself at their heavl and led 
 them through the forest in quest of the foe. 
 
 It was nearly sunset when he came in sight of the Indian 
 camp, and the multitude of warriors assembled there made 
 him pause, and almost repent of his temerity. He was as 
 shrewd, however, as he was hardy and resolute. Ordering 
 some of his men in the advance to skirmish with the enemy, 
 he hastily threw up a slight fortification with the assistance of 
 the rest. When it was finished he withdrew his forces into it 
 and ordered them to keep merely on the defensive. The 
 Indians made repeated attacks, but were as often repulsed 
 with loss. Some of the Spaniards, impatient of this covert 
 warfare, would sally forth in open field with pike and cross 
 bow, but were called back within the fortification by their 
 wary commander. 
 
 The cacique Agueybana was enraged at finding his host of 
 warriors thus baffled and kept at bay by a mere handful of 
 Spaniards. He beheld the night closing in, and feared that in 
 the darkness the enemy would escape. Summoning his 
 choicest warriors round him, therefore, he led the way in a 
 general assault, when, as he approached the fortress, he re 
 ceived a mortal wound from an arquebus and fell dead upon 
 the spot. 
 
 The Spaniards were not aware at first of the importance of 
 
202 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 the chief whom, they had slain. They soon surmised it, how 
 ever, from the confusion that ensued among the enemy, who 
 bore off the body with great lamentations, and made no 
 further attack. 
 
 The wary Juan Ponce took advantage of the evident distress 
 of the foe, to draw off his small forces in the night, happy to 
 get out of the terrible jeopardy into which a rash confidence 
 had betrayed him. Some of his fiery-spirited officers would 
 have kept the field in spite of the overwhelming force of the 
 enemy. No, no," said the shrewd veteran; "it is better to 
 protract the war than to risk all upon a single battle." 
 
 While Juan Ponce de Leon was fighting hard to maintain 
 his sway over the island, his transient dignity was overturned 
 by another power, against which the prowess of the old 
 soldier was of no avail. King Ferdinand had repented of the 
 step he had ill-advisedly taken, in superceding the governor 
 and lieutenant governor, appointed by Don Diego Columbus. 
 He became convinced, though rather- tardily, that it was an 
 infringement of the rights of the admiral, and that policy, as 
 well as justice, required him to retract it. When Juan Ceron 
 and Miguel Diaz, therefore, came prisoners to Spain, he 
 received them graciously, conferred many favors on them to 
 atone for their rough ejectment from office, and finally, after 
 some time, sent them back, empowered to resume the com 
 mand of the island. They we re ordered, however, on no 
 account to manifest rancour or ill-will against Juan Ponce de 
 Leon, or to interfere with any property he might hold, either 
 in houses, lands or Indians ; but on the contrary, to cultivate 
 the most friendly understanding with him. The king also 
 wrote to the hardy veteran explaining to him, that this resti 
 tution of Ceron and Diaz had been determined upon in council, 
 as a mere act or justice due to them, but was not intended as 
 a censure upon his conduct, and that means should be sought 
 to indemnify him for the loss of his command. 
 
 By the time the governor and hir, lieutenant reached the 
 island, Juan Ponce had completed its subjugation. The death 
 of the island champion, the brave Agueybana, had in fact been 
 a death blow to the natives, and shows how much in savage 
 warfare, depends upon a single chieftain. They never made 
 head of war afterwards ; but, dispersing among their forests 
 and mountains, fell gradually under the power of the Span 
 iards. Their subsequent fate was like that of their neighbours 
 of Hayti. They were employed in the labour of the mines^ 
 
JUAN PONCE DE LEON. 203 
 
 and in other rude toils so repugnant to their nature that they 
 sank beneath them, and, in a little while, almost all the 
 aboriginals disappeared from the island. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 JUAN PONCE DE LEON HEARS OF A WONDERFUL COUNTRY AND 
 MIRACULOUS FOUNTAIN. 
 
 JUAN PONCE DE LEON resigned the command of Porto Rico 
 with tolerable grace. The loss of one wild island and wild 
 government was of little moment, when there was a new 
 world to be shared out, where a bold soldier like himself, with 
 sword and buckler, might readily carve out new fortunes for 
 himself. Beside, he had now amassed wealth to assist him in 
 his plans, and, like many of the early discoverers, his brain 
 was teeming with the most romantic enterprises. He had 
 conceived the idea that there was yet a third world to be dis 
 covered, and he hoped to be the first to reach its shores, and 
 thus to secure a renown equal to that of Columbus. 
 
 While cogitating these things, and considering which way 
 he should strike forth in the unexplored regions around him, 
 he met with some old Indians who gave him tidings of a 
 country which promised, not merely to satisfy the cravings of 
 his ambition, but to realize the fondest dreams of the poets. 
 They assured him that, far to the north, there existed a land 
 abounding in gold and in all manner of delights ; but, above 
 all, possessing a river of such wonderful virtue that whoever 
 bathed in it would be restored to youth ! They added, that in 
 times past, before the arrival of the Spaniards, a large party 
 of the natives of Cuba had departed northward in search of 
 this happy land and this river of life, and, having never 
 returned, it was concluded that they were nourishing in 
 renovated youth, detained by the pleasures of that enchanting 
 country. 
 
 Here was the dream of the alchymist realized ! one had but 
 to find this gifted land and revel in the enjoyment of bound 
 less riches and perennial youth! nay, some of the ancient 
 Indians declared that it was not necessary to go so far in quest 
 of these rejuvenating waters, for that, in a certain island of 
 
204 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 the Bahama group, called Bimini, which lay far out in the 
 ocean, there was a fountain possessing the same marvellous 
 and inestimable qualities. 
 
 Juan Ponce de Leon listened to these tales with fond credu 
 lity. He was advancing in life, and the ordinary term of exis 
 tence seemed insufficient for his mighty plans. Could he but 
 plunge into this marvellous fountain or gifted river, and come 
 out with his battered, war-worn body restored to the strength 
 and freshness and suppleness of youth, and his head still retain 
 ing the wisdom and knowledge of age, what enterprises might 
 he not accomplish in the additional course of vigorous years 
 insured to him ! 
 
 It may seem incredible, at the present day, that a man of 
 years and experience could yield any faith to a story which 
 resembles the wild fiction of an Arabian tale ; but the wonders 
 and novelties breaking upon the world in that age of discovery 
 almost realized the illusions of fable, and the imaginations of 
 the Spanish voyagers had become so heated that they were 
 capable of any stretch of credulity. 
 
 So fuUy persuaded was the worthy old cavalier of the exist 
 ence of the region described to him, that he fitted out three 
 ships at his own expense to prosecute the discovery, nor had 
 he any difficulty in finding adventurers in abundance ready to 
 cruise with him in quest of this fairy-land.* 
 
 * It was not the credulous minds of voyagers and adventurers alone that were 
 heated by these Indian traditions and romantic fables. Men of learning and 
 eminence were likewise beguiled by them: witness the following extract from the 
 second decade of Peter Martyr, addressed to Leo I., then Bishop of Rome: 
 
 " Among the islands on the north side of Hispaniola there is one about 325 leagues 
 distant, as they say which have searched the same, in the which is a continual 
 spring of running water, of such marvellous virtue that the water thereof being 
 drunk, perhaps with some diet, maketh olde men young again. And here I must 
 make protestation to your holiness not to think this to be said lightly or rashly, for 
 they have so spread this rumour for a truth throughout all the court, that not only 
 all the people, but also many of them whom wisdom or fortune hath divided from 
 the common sort, think it to be true; but, if you will ask my opinion herein, I will 
 answer that I will not attribute so great power to nature, but that God hath no 
 lesse reserved this prerogative to himself than to search the hearts of men." &c. 
 P. Martyr, D. 2. c. 10, Z-ofc s translation. 
 
JUAN PONCK DE LEON. 205 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 CRUISE OF JUAN PONCE DE LEON IN SEARCH OF THE FOUNTAIN 
 OF YOUTH. 1512. 
 
 IT was on the third of March, 1512, that Juan Ponce sailed 
 with his three ships from the Port of St. Germain in the 
 island of Porto Rico. He kept for some distance along the 
 coast of Hispaniola, and then, stretching away to the north 
 ward, made for the Bahama islands, and soon fell in with the 
 first of the group. He was favoured with propitious weather 
 and tranquil seas, and glided smoothly with wind and current 
 along that verdant archipelago, visiting one island after 
 another, until, on the fourteenth of the month, he arrived at 
 Guanahani, or St. Salvador s, where Christopher Columbus 
 had first put his foot on the shores of the new world. His 
 inquiries for the island of Bimini were all in vain, and as to 
 the fountain of youth, he may have drank of every fountain 
 and river, and lake of the archipelago, even to the salt pools 
 of Turk s island, without being a whit the younger. 
 
 Still he was not discouraged ; but, having repaired his ships, 
 he again put to sea and shaped his course to the north-west. 
 On Sunday, the 27th of March, he came in sight of what he 
 supposed to be an island, but was prevented from landing by 
 adverse weather. He continued hovering about it for several 
 days, buffeted by the elements, until, in the night of the 
 second of April, he succeeded in coming to anchor under the 
 land in thirty degrees eight minutes of latitude. The whole 
 country was in the fresh bloom of spring ; the trees were gay 
 with blossoms, and the fields covered with flowers; from 
 which circumstance, as well as from having discovered it on 
 Palm Sunday, (Pascua Florida,) he gave it the name of 
 Florida, which it retains to the present day. The Indian name 
 of the country was Cautio. * 
 
 Juan Ponce landed, and took possession of the country in 
 the name of the Castilian Sovereigns. He afterwards con 
 tinued for several weeks ranging the coasts of this flowery 
 land, and struggling against the gulf-stream and the various 
 currents which sweep i(. He doubled Cape Canaveral, and 
 reconnoitered the southern and eastern shores without isuspect- 
 
 t Hen-era, liist. I ml. d. 1. 1. ix. c. 10. 
 
206 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 ing that this was a part of Terra Firma. In all his attempts to 
 explore the country, he met with resolute and implacable 
 hostility on the part of the natives, who appeared to be a fierce 
 and warlike race. He was disappointed also in his hopes of 
 finding gold, nor did any of the rivers or fountains which he 
 examined possess the rejuvenating virtue. Convinced, there 
 fore, that this was not the promised land of Indian tradition, 
 he turned his prow homeward on the 14th of June, with the 
 intention in the way of making one more attempt to find the 
 island of Bimini. 
 
 In the outset of his return he discovered a group of islets 
 abounding with sea-fowl and marine animals. On one of them 
 his sailors, in the course of a single night, caught one hundred 
 and seventy turtles, and might have taken many more, had 
 they been so inclined. They likewise took fourteen sea wolves, 
 and killed a vast quantity of pelicans and other birds. To this 
 group Juan Ponce gave the name of the Tortugas, or turtles, 
 which they still retain. 
 
 Proceeding in his cruise, he touched at another group of 
 islets near the Lucayos, to which he gave the name of La Vieja, 
 or the Old Woman group, because he found no inhabitant 
 there but one old Indian woman.* This ancient sybil he took 
 on board his ship to give him information about tne labyrinth 
 of islands into which he was entering, and perhaps he could not 
 have had a more suitable guide in the eccentric quest he was 
 making. Notwithstanding her pilotage, however, he was ex 
 ceedingly baffled and perplexed in his return voyage among 
 the Bahama islands, for he was forcing his way as it were 
 against the course of nature, and encountering the currents 
 which sweep westward along these islands, and the trade- wind 
 which accompanies them. For a long time he struggled with 
 all kinds of difficulties and dangers ; and was obliged to re 
 main upwards of a month in one of the islands to repair the 
 damages which his ship had suffered in a storm. 
 
 Disheartened at length by the perils and trials with which 
 nature seemed to have beset the approach to Bimini, as to 
 some fairy island in romance, he gave up the quest in person, 
 and sent in his place a trusty captain, Juan Perez de Ortubia, 
 who departed in one of the other ships, guided by the ex 
 perienced old woman of the isles, and by another Indian. As 
 to Juan Ponce, he made the best of his way back to Porto 
 
 *Herrera,d. 1,1. ix. 
 
JUAN PONCE DE LEON. 207 
 
 Rico, where he arrived infinitely poorer in purse and wrinkled 
 in brow, by this cruise after inexhaustible riches and perpetual 
 youth. 
 
 He had not been long in port when his trusty envoy, Juan 
 Perez, likewise arrived. Guided by the sage old woman, he 
 had succeeded in finding the long-sought-for Bimini. He de 
 scribed it as being large, verdant, and covered with beautiful 
 groves. There were crystal springs and limpid streams in 
 abundance, which kept the island in perpetual verdure, but 
 none that could restore to an old man the vernal greenness of 
 his youth. 
 
 Thus ended the romantic expedition of Juan Ponce de Leon. 
 Like many other pursuits of a chimera, it terminated in the 
 acquisition of a substantial good. Though he had failed in 
 finding the fairy fountain of youth, he had discovered in place 
 9i it the important country of Florida.* 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 EXPEDITION OF JUAN PONCE AGAINST THE CARIES HIS DEATH.- 
 
 (1514.) 
 
 JUAN PONCE DE LEON now repaired to Spain to make a re 
 port of his voyage to King Ferdinand. The hardy old cava 
 lier experienced much raillery from the witlings of the court 
 on account of his visionary voyage, though many wise men 
 had been as credulous as himself at the outset. The king, 
 however, received him with great favour, and conferred on 
 him the title of Adelantado of Bimini and Florida, which last 
 was as yet considered an island. Permission was also granted 
 him to recruit men either in Spain or in the colonies for a set- 
 
 *The belief of the existence, in Florida, of a river like that sought by Juan Ponce, 
 was long prevalent among the Indians of Cuba, and the caciques were anxious to 
 discover it. That a party of the natives of Cuba once went in search ofjt, and re 
 mained there, appears to be a fact, as their descendants were afterwards to be 
 traced among the people of Florida. Las Casas says, that even in his days, many 
 persisted in seeking this mystery, and some thought that the river was no other 
 than that called the Jordan, at the point of St. Helena; without considering that 
 the name was given to it by the Spaniards in the year 1520, when they discovered 
 the laud of Chicora. 
 
208 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 tlement in Florida ; but he deferred entering on his command 
 for the present, being probably discouraged and impoverished 
 by the losses in his last expedition, or finding a difficulty in 
 enlisting adventurers. At length another enterprise present 
 ed itself. The caribs had by this time become a terror to the 
 Spanish inhabitants of many of the islands, making descents 
 upon the coasts and carrying off captives, who it was supposed 
 were doomed to be devoured by these cannibals. So fre 
 quent were their invasions of the island of Porto Rico, that 
 it was feared they would ultimately oblige the Spaniards to 
 abandon it. 
 
 At length King Ferdinand, in 1514, ordered that three ships, 
 well armed and manned, should be fitted out in Seville, des 
 tined to scour the islands of the Caribs, and to free the seas 
 from those cannibal marauders. The command of the Armada 
 vas g^ven to Juan Ponce de Leon, from his knowledge in In 
 dian warfare, and his varied and rough experience which had 
 mingled in him the soldier with the sailor. . He was instructed 
 in the first place to assail the Caribs of those islands most con 
 tiguous and dangerous to Porto Eico, and then to make war 
 on those of the coast of Terra Firma, in the neighbourhood of 
 Carthagena. He was afterwards to take the captaincy of 
 Porto Rico, and to attend to the repartimientos or distribu 
 tions of the Indians in conjunction with a person to be ap 
 pointed by Diego Columbus. 
 
 The enterprise suited the soldier-like spirit of Juan Ponce de 
 Leon, and the gallant old cavalier set sail full of confidence in 
 January, 1515, and steered direct for the Caribbees, with a de 
 termination to give a wholesome castigation to the whole sav 
 age archipelago. Arriving at the island of Guadaloupe, he 
 cast anchor, and sent men on shore for wood and water, and 
 Avomen to wash the clothing of the crews, with a party of sol 
 diers to mount guard. 
 
 Juan Ponce had not been as wary as usual, or he had to deal 
 with savages unusually adroit in warfare. While the people 
 were scattered carelessly on shore, the Caribs rushed forth 
 from an ambuscade, killed the greater part of the men, and 
 carried off the women to the mountains. 
 
 This blow at the very outset of his vaunted expedition sank 
 deep into the heart of Juan Ponce, and put an end to all his 
 military excitement. Humbled and mortified, he set sail for 
 the island of Porto Rico, where he relinquished all further 
 prosecution of the enterprise, under pretext of ill health, and 
 
JUAN PONCE DE LEON. 209 
 
 gave the command of the squadron to a captain named Zuniga; 
 but it is surmised that his malady was not so much of the flesh 
 os of the spirit. He remained in Porto Rico as governor ; but, 
 having grown testy and irritable through vexations and disap 
 pointments, he gave great offence, and caused much contention 
 on the island by positive and strong-handed measures, in re 
 spect to the distribution of the Indians. 
 
 He continued for several years in that island, in a state of 
 ^Tov^ling repose, until the brilliant exploits of Hernando Cortez, 
 which threatened to eclipse the achievements of all the veteran 
 discoverers, roused his dormant spirit. 
 
 Jealous of being cast in the shade in his old day s, he deter 
 mined to sally forth on one more expedition. He had heard 
 that Florida, which he had discovered, and which he had 
 hitherto considered a mere island, was part of Terra Firma, 
 possessing vast and unknown regions in its bosom. If so, a 
 grand field of enterprise lay before him, wherein he might 
 make discoveries and conquests to rival, if not surpass, the 
 far-famed conquest of Mexico. 
 
 Accordingly, in the year 1521 he fitted out two ships at the 
 island of Porto Rico, and embarked almost the whole of his 
 property in the undertaking. His voyage was toilsome and 
 tempestuous, but at length he arrived at the wished-for land. 
 He made a descent upon the coast with a great part of his 
 men, but the Indians sallied forth with unusual valour to de 
 fend their shores. A bloody battle ensued, several of the 
 Spaniards were slain, and Juan Ponce was wounded by an 
 arrow, in the thigh. He was borne on board his ship, and 
 finding himself disabled for further action, set sail for Cuba, 
 where he arrived ill in body and dejected in heart. 
 
 He was of an age when there is no longer prompt and health 
 ful reaction either mental or corporeal. The irritations of 
 humiliated pride and disappointed hope, exasperated the fever 
 of his wound, and he died soon after his arrival at the island. 
 " Thus fate," says one of the quaint old Spanish writers, k de 
 lights to reverse the schemes of man. The discovery that 
 Juan Ponce flattered himself was to lead to a means of per 
 petuating his life, had the ultimate effect of hastening his 
 death." 
 
 It may be said, however, that he has at least attained the 
 shadow of his desire, since, though disappointed in extending 
 the natural term of his existence, his discovery has ensured a 
 lasting duration to his name, 
 
210 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 The following epitaph was inscribed upon his tomb, which 
 does justice to the warrior qualities of the stout old cavalier : 
 
 Mole sub hac f ortis requiescat ossa Leonis, 
 Qui vicit factis noraina magna suis. 
 
 It has thus been paraphrased in Spanish by the Licentiate 
 Juan de Castellanos. 
 
 Aqueste lugar estrecho 
 Es sepulchre del varon, 
 Que en el nombre fue Leon, 
 Y mucho mas en el hecho. 
 
 " In this sepulchre rest the bones of a man, who was a lion 
 by name, and still more by nature." 
 
APPENDIX. 211 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 A VISIT TO PALOS. 
 
 [The following narrative was actually commenced, by the author of this work, as 
 a letter to a friend, but unexpectedly swelled to its present size. He has been in 
 duced to insert it here from the idea that many will feel the same curiosity to 
 know something of the present state of Palos and its inhabitants that led him to 
 Tnake the journey.] 
 
 SEVILLE, 1828. 
 
 SINCE I last wrote to you I have made, what I may term, an 
 American Pilgrimage, to visit the little port of Palos in 
 Andalusia, where Columbus fitted out his ships, and whence 
 he sailed for the discovery of the New World. Need I tell you 
 how deeply interesting and gratifying it has been to me? I 
 had long meditated this excursion as a kind of pious, and, if I 
 may say, filial duty of an American, and my intention was 
 quickened when I learnt that many of the edifices mentioned 
 in the history of Columbus still remained in nearly the same 
 state in which they existed at the time of his sojourn at Palos, 
 and that the descendants of the intrepid Pinzons, who aided 
 him with ships and money, and sailed with him in the great 
 voyage of discovery, still nourished in the neighbourhood. 
 
 The very evening before my departure from Seville on the 
 excursion, I heard that there was a young gentleman of the 
 Pinzon family studying law in the city. I got introduced to 
 him, and found him of most prepossessing appearance and 
 manners. He gave me a letter of introduction to his father, 
 Don Juan Fernandez Pinzon, resident of Moguer, and the pre 
 sent head of the family. 
 
 As it was in the middle of August, and the weather in 
 tensely hot, I hired a calesa for the journey. This is a two- 
 wheeled carriage, resembling a cabriolet; but of the most 
 primitive and rude construction; the harness is profusely 
 ornamented with brass, and the horse s head decorated with 
 
212 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 tufts and tassels and dangling bobs of scarlet and yellow 
 worsted. I had, for calasero, a tall, long-legged Andalusian, 
 in short jacket, little round-crowned hat, breeches decorated 
 with buttons from the hip to the knees, and a pair of russet 
 leather bottinas or spatter-dashes. He was an active fellow, 
 though uncommonly taciturn for an Andalusian, and strode 
 along beside his horse, rousing him occasionally to greater 
 speed by a loud malediction or a hearty thwack of his cudgel. 
 
 In this style I set off late in the day to avoid the noon-tide 
 heat, and after ascending the lofty range of hills that borders 
 the great valley of the Guadalquivir, and having a rough ride 
 among their heights, I descended about twilight into one of 
 those vast, silent, melancholy plains, frequent in Spain, where 
 I beheld no other signs of life than a roaming flock of bustards, 
 and a distant herd of cattle, guarded by a solitary herdsman, 
 who, with a long pike planted in the earth, stood motionless in 
 the midst of the dreary landscape, resembling an Arab of the 
 desert. The night had somewhat advanced when we stopped 
 to repose for a few hours at a solitary venta or inn, if it might 
 GO be called, being nothing more than a vast low-roofed stable, 
 divided into several compartments for the reception of the 
 troops of mules and arrieros (or carriers) who carry on the 
 internal trade of Spain. Accommodation for the traveller 
 there was none not even for a traveller so easily accom 
 modated as myself. The landlord had no food to give me, and 
 as to a bed, he had none but a horse cloth, on which his only 
 child, a boy of eight years old, lay naked on the earthen floor. 
 Indeed the heat of the weather and the fumes from the stables 
 made the interior of the hovel insupportable, so I was fain to 
 bivouac on my cloak on the pavement at the door of the venta, 
 where on waking after two or three hours of sound sleep, I 
 found a contrabandista (or smuggler) snoring beside me, with 
 his blunderbuss on his arm. 
 
 I resumed my journey before break of day, and had made 
 several leagues by ten o clock, when we stopped to breakfast 
 and to pass the sultry hours of midday in a large village, from 
 whence we departed about four o clock, and, after passing 
 through the same kind of solitary country, arrived just after 
 sunset at Moguer. This little city (for at present it is a city) is 
 situated about a .league from Palos, of which place it has gra 
 dually absorbed all the respectable inhabitants, and, among 
 the number, the whole family of the Pinzons. 
 
 So remote is this litf?e ^laco from the stir and bustle of 
 
APPENDIX. 213 
 
 travel, and so destitute of the show and vain-glory of this 
 world, that my calesa, as it rattled and jingled along the nar 
 row and ill-paved streets, caused a great sensation; the chil 
 dren shouted and scampered along by its side, admiring its 
 splendid trappings of brass and worsted, and gazing with rev. 
 erence at the important stranger who came in so gorgeous an 
 equipage. 
 
 I drove up to the principal posada, the landlord of which 
 was at the door. He was one of the very civilest men in the 
 world, and disposed to do every thing in his power to make 
 me comfortable ; there was only one difficulty, he had neither 
 bed nor bedroom in his house. In fact, it was a mere venta 
 for muleteers, who are accustomed to sleep on the ground with 
 their mule-cloths for beds and pack-saddles for pillows. It 
 was a hard case, but there was no better posada in the place. 
 Few people travel for pleasure or curiosity in these out-of-the- 
 way parts of Spain, and those of any note are generally re 
 ceived into private houses. I had travelled sufficiently in 
 Spain to find out that a bed, after all, is not an article of indis 
 pensable necessity, and was about to bespeak some quiet 
 corner where I might spread my cloak, when, fortunately, the 
 landlord s wife came forth. She could not have a more oblig 
 ing disposition than her husband, but then God bless the 
 women! they always know how to carry their good wishes 
 into effect. In a little while a small room about ten feet 
 square, that had formed a thoroughfare between the stables 
 and a kind of shop or bar-room, was cleared of a variety of 
 lumber, and I was assured that a bed should be put up there 
 for me. From the consultations I saw my hostess holding 
 with some of her neighbour gossips, I fancied the bed was to 
 be a kind of piecemeal contribution among them for the credit 
 of the house. 
 
 As soon as I could change my dress, I commenced the histori 
 cal researches, which were the object of my journey, and 
 inquired for the abode of Don Juan Fernandez Pinzon. My 
 obliging landlord himself volunteered to conduct me thither, 
 and I set off full of animation at the thoughts of meeting with 
 the lineal representative of one of the coadjutors of Columbus. 
 
 A short walk brought us to the house, which was most re 
 spectable in its appearance, indicating easy if not affluent cir 
 cumstances. The door, as is customary in Spanish villages 
 during summer, stood wide open. We entered with the usual 
 salutation, or rather summons, " Ave Maria!" A trim Anda- 
 
214 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 lusian handmaid answered to the call, and, on our inquiring 
 for the master of the house, led the way across a little patio or 
 court in the centre of the edifice, cooled by a fountain sur 
 rounded by shrubs and flowers, to a back court or terrace, like 
 wise set out with flowers, where Don Juan Fernandez was 
 seated with his family enjoying the serene evening in tfre open 
 air. 
 
 I was much pleased with his appearance. He was a ven 
 erable old gentleman, tall and somewhat thin, with fair com 
 plexion and gray hair. He received me with great urbanity, 
 and, on reading the letter from his son, appeared struck with 
 surprise to find I had come quite to Moguer merely to visit 
 the scene of the embarkation of Columbus ; and still more so on 
 my telling him that one of my leading objects of curiosity was 
 his own family connexion ; for it would seem that the worthy 
 cavalier had troubled his head but little about the enterprises 
 of his ancestors. 
 
 I now took my seat in the domestic circle and soon felt 
 myself quite at home, for there is generally a frankness in 
 the hospitality of Spaniards that soon puts a stranger at his 
 ease beneath their roof. The wife of Don Fernandez was 
 extremely amiable and affable, possessing much of that nat 
 ural aptness for which the Spanish women are remarkable. 
 In the course of conversation with them, I learnt that Don 
 Juan Fernandez, who is seventy-two years of age, is the eldest 
 of five brothers, all of whom are married, have numerous off 
 spring, and lived in Moguer and its vicinity in nearly the 
 same condition and rank of life as at the time of the dis 
 covery. This agreed with what I had previously heard re 
 specting the families of the discoverers. Of Columbus no 
 lineal and direct descendant exists; his was an exotic stock 
 that never took deep and lasting root in the country ; but the 
 race of the Pinzons continues to thrive and multiply in its 
 native soil. 
 
 While I was yet conversing a gentleman entered, who was 
 introduced to me as Don Luis Fernandez Pinzon, the young 
 est of the brothers. He appeared to be between fifty and sixty 
 years of age, somewhat robust, with fair complexion and gray 
 hair, and a frank and manly deportment. He is the only one 
 of the present generation that has followed the ancient pro 
 fession of the family ; having served with great applause as an 
 officer of the royal navy, from which he retired on his mar 
 riage about twenty-two years since. He is the one also who 
 
APPENDIX. 215 
 
 takes the greatest interest and pride in the historical honours 
 of his house, carefully preserving all the legends and docu 
 ments of the achievements and distinctions of his family, a 
 manuscript volume of which he lent me for my inspection. 
 
 Don Juan now expressed a wish that during my residence 
 in Moguer I would make his house my home. I endeavoured 
 to excuse myself, alleging that the good people at the pcsada 
 had been at such extraordinary trouble in preparing quarters 
 for me that I did not like to disappoint them. The worthy old 
 gentleman undertook to arrange all this, and, while supper 
 was preparing, we walked together to the posada. I found 
 that my obliging host and hostess had indeed exerted them 
 selves to an uncommon degree. An old ricketty table had 
 been spread out in a corner of the little room as a bedstead, on 
 top of which was propped up a grand cama de luxo, or state 
 bed, which appeared to be the admiration of the house. I 
 could not for the soul of me appear to undervalue what the 
 poor people had prepared with such hearty good-will and con 
 sidered such a triumph of art and luxury ; so I again entreated 
 Don Juan to dispense with my sleeping at his house, promising 
 most faithfully to make my meals there while I should stay at 
 Moguer, and, as the old gentleman understood my motives for 
 declining his invitation and felt a good-humoured sympathy in 
 then ., we readily arranged the matter. I returned, therefore, 
 with Don Juan to his house and supped with his family. Dur 
 ing the repast a plan was agreed upon for my visit to Palos 
 and to the convent La Rabida, in which Don Juan volunteered 
 to accompany me and be my guide, and the following day was 
 allotted to the expedition. We were to breakfast at a hacienda 
 or country-seat which he possessed in the vicinity of Palos in 
 the midst of his vineyards, and were to dine .ftiere on our re 
 turn from the convent. These arrangements being made, we 
 parted for the night; I returned to the posada highly gratified 
 with my visit, and slept soundly in the extraordinary bed, 
 which, I may almost say, had been invented for my accommo 
 dation. 
 
 On the following morning, bright and early, Don Juan Fer 
 nandez and myself set off in the calesa for Palos. I felt ap 
 prehensive at first, that the kind-hearted old gentleman, in his 
 anxiety to oblige, had left his bed at too early an hour, and 
 was exposing himself to fatigues unsuited to his age. He 
 laughed at the idea, and assured me that he was an early riser, 
 and accustomed to all kinds of exercise on horse and foot, 
 
gl6 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 being a keen sportsman, and frequently passing days together 
 among the mountains on shooting expeditions, taking with 
 him servants, horses, and provisions, and living in a tent. He 
 appeared, in fact, to be of an active habit, and to possess a 
 youthful vivacity of spirit. His cheerful disposition rendered 
 our morning drive extremely agreeable; his urbanity was 
 shown to every one whom we met on the road ; even the com 
 mon peasant was saluted by him with the appellation of cdbal- 
 lero, a mark of respect ever gratifying to the poor but proud 
 Spaniard, when yielded by a superior. 
 
 As the tide was out we drove along the flat grounds border 
 ing the Tinto. The river was on our right, while on our left 
 was a range of hills, jutting out into promontories, one beyond 
 the other; and covered with vineyards and lig trees. The 
 weather was serene, the air was soft and balmy, and the land 
 scape of that gentle kind calculated to put one in a quiet 
 and happy humour. We passed close by the skirts of Palos, 
 and! dvove to the hacienda, which is situated at some little dis 
 tance from the village, between it and the river. The house is 
 a low stone building, well white- washed, and of great length ; 
 one end being fitted up as a summer residence, with saloons, 
 bed-rooms, and a domestic chapel ; and the other as a bodega or 
 magazine for the reception of the wine produced on the estate. 
 
 The house stands on a hill, amidst vineyards, which are sup j 
 posed to cover a part of the site of the ancient town of Palos, 
 no w shrunk to a miserable village. Beyond these vineyards, 
 on the crest of a distant hill, are seen the white walls of the 
 convent of La Rabida rising above a dark wood of pine trees. 
 
 Below the hacienda flows the river Tinto, on which Col urn- 
 bus embarked. It is divided by a low tongue of land, or rather 
 the sand-bar of Saltes, from the river Odiel, with which it soon 
 mingles its waters, and flows on to the ocean. Beside this 
 sand-bar, where the channel of the river runs deep, the squad 
 ron of Columbus was anchored, and from hence he made sail 
 on the morning of his departure. 
 
 The soft breeze that was blowing scarcely ruffled the surface 
 of this beautiful river ; two or three picturesque barks, called 
 mysticks, with long latine sails, were gliding down it. A little 
 aid of the imagination might suffice to picture them as the 
 light caravels of Columbus, sallying forth on their eventful 
 expedition, while the distant bells of the town of Huelva, 
 which were ringing melodiously, might be supposed as cheer 
 ing the voyagers with a farewell peal. 
 
APPENDIX. 217 
 
 I cannot express to you what were my feelings on treading 
 cfae shore which had once been animated by the bustle of 
 departure, and whose sands had been printed by the last foot 
 step of Columbus. The solemn and sublime nature of the 
 event that had followed, together with the fate and fortunes of 
 those concerned in it, filled the mind with vague yet melan 
 choly ideas. It was like viewing the silent and empty stage of 
 some great drama, when all the actors had departed. The 
 very aspect of the landscape, so tranquilly beautiful, had an 
 eft ect upon me, and as I paced the deserted shore by the side of 
 a descendant of one of the discoverers, I felt my heart swelling 
 with emotions and my eyes filling with tears. 
 
 What surprised me was to find no semblance of a seaport ; 
 there was neither wharf nor landing-place nothing but a 
 naked river bank, with the hulk of a ferry-boat, which I was 
 told carried passengers to Huelva, lying high and dry on the 
 sands, deserted by the tide. Palos, though it has doubtless 
 dwindled away from its former size, can never have been 
 important as to extent and population. If it possessed ware 
 houses on the beach, they have disappeared. It is at present a 
 mere village of the poorest kind, and lies nearly a quarter of a 
 mile from the river, in a hollow among hills. It contains a 
 few hundred inhabitants, who suosist principally by labouring 
 in the fields and vineyards. Its race of merchants and marin 
 ers are extinct. There are no vessels belonging to the place, 
 nor any show of traffic, excepting at the season of fruit and 
 wine, when a few mysticks and other light barks anchor in the 
 river to collect the produce of the neighbourhood. The people 
 are totally ignorant, and it is probable that the greater part of 
 them scarce know even the name of America. Such is the 
 place from whence sallied forth the enterprise for the discovery 
 of the western world ! 
 
 We were now summoned to breakfast in a little saloon of the 
 hacienda. The table was covered with natural luxuries pro 
 duced upon the spot fine purple and muscatel grapes from 
 the adjacent vineyard, delicious melons from the garden, and 
 generous wines made on the estate. The repast was heightened 
 by the genial manners of my hospitable host, who appeared to 
 possess the most enviable cheerfulness of spirit and simplicity 
 of heart. 
 
 After breakfast we set off in the calesa to visit the convent 
 of La Rabida, which is about half a league distant. The road, 
 for a part of the way, lay through the vineyards, and was deep 
 
218 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 and sandy. The calasero had been at his wits end to conceive 
 what motive a stranger like myself, apparently travelling for 
 mere amusement, could have in coming so far to see so miser, 
 able a place as Palos, which he set down as one of the very 
 poorest places in the whole world ; but this additional toil and 
 struggle through deep sand to visit the old Convent of La 
 Rabid a, completed his confusion " Hombre!" exclaimed he, 
 " es una ruina ! no hay mas que dos frailes !" " Zounds ! why, 
 it s a ruin! there are only two friars there!" Don Juan 
 laughed, and told him that I had come all the way from Seville 
 precisely to see that old ruin and those two friars. The cala 
 sero made the Spaniard s last reply when he is perplexed he 
 shrugged his shoulders and crossed himself. 
 
 After ascending a hill and passing through the skirts of a 
 straggling pine wood, we arrived in front of the convent. It 
 stands in a bleak and solitary situation, on the brow of a rocky 
 height or promontory, overlooking to the west a wide range of 
 sea and land, bounded by the frontier mountains of Portugal, 
 about eight leagues distant. The convent is shut out from a 
 view of the vineyard of Palos by the gloomy forest of pines 
 which I have mentioned, which cover the promontory to the 
 east, and darken the whole landscape in that direction. 
 
 There is nothing remarkable in the architecture of the con 
 vent ; part of it is Gothic, but the edifice, having been fre 
 quently repaired, and being white- washed, according to a uni 
 versal custom in. Andalusia, inherited from the Moors, it has 
 not that venerable aspect which might be expected from its 
 antiquity. 
 
 We alighted at the gate where Columbus, when a poor 
 pedestrian, a stranger in the land, asked bread and water for 
 his child ! As long as the convent stands, this must be a spot 
 calculated to awaken the most thrilling interest. The gate 
 remains apparently in nearly the same state as at the time of 
 his visit, but there is no longer a porter at hand to administer 
 to the wants of the wayfarer. The door stood wide open, and 
 admitted us into a small court-yard. From thence we passed 
 through a Gothic portal into the chapel, without seeing a 
 human being. We then traversed two interior cloisters, 
 equally vacant and silent, and bearing a look of neglect and 
 dilapidation. From an open window we had a peep at what 
 had once been a garden, but that had also gone to ruin ; the 
 walls were broken and thrown down; a few shrubs, and a 
 scattered fig-tree or two, were all the traces of cultivation that 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 remained. We passed through the long dormitories, but the 
 cells were shut up and abandoned; we saw no living thing 
 except a solitary cat stealing across a distant corridor, which 
 fled in a panic at the unusual sight of strangers. At length, 
 after patrolling nearly the whole of the empty building to the 
 echo of our own footsteps, we came to where the door of a cell, 
 being partly open, gave us the sight of a monk within, seated 
 at a table writing. He rose and received us with much civil 
 ity, and conducted us to the superior, who was reading in an 
 adjacent cell. They were both rather young men, and, 
 together with a novitiate and a lay-brother, who officiated as 
 cook, formed the whole community of the convent. 
 
 Don Juan Fernandez communicated to them the object of 
 my visit, and my desire also to inspect the archives of the 
 convent to find if there was any record of the sojourn of 
 Columbus. They informed us that the archives had been 
 entirely destroyed by the French. The younger monk, how 
 ever, who had perused them, had a vague recollection of 
 various particulars concerning the transactions of Columbus 
 at Palos, his visit to the convent, and the sailing of his 
 expedition. From all that he cited, however, it appeared to 
 me that all the information on the subject contained in the 
 archives, had been extracted from Herrera and other well 
 known authors. The monk was talkative and eloquent, and 
 soon diverged frcgn the subject of Columbus, to one which 
 he considered of infinitely greater importance ; the mirac 
 ulous image of the Virgin possessed by their convent, and 
 known by the name of "Our Lady of La Rabida." He gave 
 us a history of the wonderful way in which the image had 
 been found buried in the earth, where it had lain hidden for 
 ages, since the time of the conquest of Spain by the Moors ; 
 the disputes between the convent and different places in the 
 neighbourhood for the possession of it; the marvellous pro 
 tection it extended to the adjacent country, especially in 
 preventing all madness, either in man or dog, for this malady 
 was anciently so prevalent in this place as to gain it the 
 appellation of La Eabia, by which it was originally called ; a 
 name which, thanks to the beneficent influence of the Virgin, 
 it no longer merited or retained. Such are the legends and 
 reliques with which every convent in Spain is enriched which 
 are zealously cried up by the monks, and devoutly credited by 
 the populace. 
 
 Twice a year on the festival of our Lady of La Rabida, and 
 
220 SrAA ISJI VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 on that of the patron saint of the order, the solitude and 
 silence of the convent are interrupted by the intrusion of a 
 swarming multitude, composed of the inhabitants of Moguer, 
 of Huelva, and the neighbouring plains and mountains. The 
 open esplanade in front of the edifice resembles a fair, the 
 adjacent forest teems with the motley throng, and the image 
 of our Lady of La Rabida is borne forth in triumphant 
 procession. 
 
 While the friar was thus dilating upon the merits and 
 renown of the image, I amused myself with those day dreams, 
 or conjurings of the imagination to which I am a little given. 
 As the internal arrangements of convents are apt to be the 
 same from age to age, I pictured to myself this chamber as the 
 same inhabited by the guardian, Juan Perez de Marchena, at 
 the time of the visit of Columbus. Why might not the old 
 and ponderous table before me be the very one on which he 
 displayed his conjectural maps, and expounded his theory of 
 a western route to India? It required but another stretch of 
 the imagination to assemble the little conclave around the 
 table; Juan Perez the friar, Garci Fernandez the physician, 
 and Martin Alonzo Pinzon, the bold navigator, all listening 
 with rapt attention to Columbus, or to the tale of some old 
 seaman of Palos, about islands seen in the western parts of 
 the ocean. 
 
 The friars, as far as their poor means and scanty knowledge 
 extended, were disposed to do every thing to promote the 
 object of my visit. They showed us all parts of the convent, 
 which, however, has little to boast of, excepting the historical 
 associations connected with it. The library was reduced to a 
 few volumes, chiefly on ecclesiastical subjects, piled promiscu 
 ously in the corner of a vaulted chamber, and covered with 
 dust. The chamber itself was curious, being the most ancient 
 part of the edifice, and supposed to have formed part of a 
 temple in the time of the Romans. 
 
 We ascended to the roof of the convent to enjoy the 
 extensive prospect it commands. Immediately below the 
 promontory on which it is situated, runs a narrow but 
 tolerably deep river, called the Domingo Rubio, which empties 
 itself into the Tinto. It is the opinion of Don Luis Fernandez 
 Pinzon, that the ships of Columbus were careened and fitted 
 out in this river, as it affords better shelter than the Tinto, 
 and its shores are not so shallow. A lonely bark of a fisher 
 man was lying in tin s stream, and not far off, on a sandy 
 
APPEA J)IX. 
 
 point, were the ruins of an ancient watchtower. From the 
 roof of the convent, all the windings of the Odiel and the 
 Tinto were to be seen, and their junction into the main 
 stream, by which Columbus sallied forth to sea. In fact, the 
 convent serves as a landmark, being, from its lofty and 
 solitary situation, visible for a considerable distance to vessels 
 coming on the coast. On the opposite side I looked down 
 up^n the lonely road, through the wood of pine trees, by 
 which the zealous guardian of the convent, Fray Juan Perez, 
 departed at midnight on his mule, when he sought the camp 
 of Ferdinand and Isabella in the Vega of Granada, to plead 
 the project of Columbus before the queen. 
 
 Having finished our inspection of the convent, we prepared 
 to depart, and were accompanied to the outward portal by the 
 two fria_j. Our calasero brought his rattling and ricketty 
 vehicle for us to mount ; at sight of which one of the monks 
 exclaimed, with a smile, "Santa Maria! only to think! A 
 calesa before the gate of the convent of La Rabida!" And, 
 indeed, so solitary and remote is this ancient edifice, and so 
 simple is the mode of living of the people in this bye corner of 
 Spain, that the appearance of even a sorry calesa might well 
 cause astonishment. It is only singular that in such a bye- 
 corner the scheme of Columbus should have found intelligent 
 listeners and coadjutors, after it had been discarded, almost 
 with scoffing and contempt, from learned universities and 
 splendid courts. 
 
 On our way back to the hacienda, we met Don Eafael, a 
 younger son of Don Juan Fernandez, a fine young man about 
 twenty-one years of age, and who, his father informed me, 
 was at present studying French and mathematics. He was 
 well mounted on a spirited gray horse, and dressed in the 
 Andalusian style, with the little round hat and jacket. He 
 sat his horse gracefully, and managed him well. I was 
 pleased with the frank and easy terms on which Don Juan 
 appeared to live with his children. This I was inclined to 
 think his favourite son, as I understood he was the only one 
 that partook of the old gentleman s fondness for the chase, 
 and that accompanied him in his hunting excursions. 
 
 A dinner had been prepared for us at the hacienda, by the 
 wife of the capitaz, or overseer, who, with her husband, 
 seemed to be well pleased with this visit from Don Juan, and 
 to be confident of receiving a pleasant answer from the good- 
 humoured old gentleman whenever they addressed him. The 
 
222 &PAX1M1 VOYAGKS OF DISCOVERT. 
 
 dinner was served up aloi^t two o clock, r\nd was a most 
 agrecabb meal. The fruits an 1 wines were from the estate, 
 and we 3 excellent; he last of the provisions were from 
 Moguer, for the decent vi lage of Palos is too poor to 
 furnish anything. A gentle breeze from the sea played 
 through the hall, and tempered the summer heat. Indeed I 
 do not hnow when I have seen a more enviable spot than this 
 country retreat of the Pinzons. Its situation on a breezy hill, 
 at no great distance from the sea, and in a southern climate, 
 produces a happy temperature, neither hot in summer nor 
 cold in winter. It commands a beautiful prospect, and is 
 surrounded by nataral luxuries. The country abounds with 
 game, the adjacent river affords abundant sport in fishing, 
 both by day and night, and delightful excursions for those 
 fond of sailing. During the busy seasons of rural life, and 
 especially at the joyous period of vintage, the family pass 
 some time here, accompanied by numerous guests, at which 
 times, Don Juan assured me, there was no lack of amuse 
 ments, both by land and water. 
 
 When we had dined, and taken the siesta, or afternoon nap, 
 according to the Spanish custom in summer-time, we set out 
 on our return to Moguer, visiting the village of Palos in the 
 way. Don Gabriel had been sent in advance to procure the 
 keys of the village church, and to apprise the curate of our 
 wish to inspect the archives. The village consists principally 
 of two streets of low white-washed houses. Many of the 
 inhabitants have very dark complexions, betraying a mixture 
 of African blood. 
 
 On entering the village, we repaired to the lowly mansion 
 of the curate. I had hoped to find him some such personage 
 as the curate in Don Quixote, possessed of shrewdness and 
 information in his limited sphere, and that I might gain some 
 anecdotes from him concerning his parisn, its worthies, itSj 
 antiquities, and its historical events. Perhaps I might have 
 done so at any other time, but, unfortunately, the curate was 
 something of a sportsman, and had heard of some game 
 among the neighbouring hills. We met him just sallying 
 forth from his house, and, I must confess, his appearance was 
 picturesque. He was a short, broad, sturdy little man, and 
 had doffed his cassock and broad clerical beaver for a short 
 jacket and a little round Andalusian hat ; he had his gun in 
 hand, and was on the point of mounting a donkey -Qjhich had 
 been led forth by an ancient wtthered handmaid, fearful of 
 
APPENDIX. 223 
 
 being detained from his foray, he accosted my companion the 
 moment he came in sight. "God preserve you, Senor Don 
 Juan! I have received your message, and have but one 
 answer to make. The archives have all been destroyed. We 
 have no trace of any thing you seek for nothing nothing. 
 Don Eafael has the keys of the church. You can examine it 
 at your leisure. Adios, caballero!" With these words the 
 galliard little curate mounted his donkey, thumped his ribs 
 with the butt end of his gun, and trotted off to the hills. 
 
 In our way to the church we passed by the ruins of what 
 had once been a fair and spacious dwelling, greatly superior 
 to the other houses of the village. This, Don Juan informed 
 me, was an old family possession, but since they had removed 
 from Palos it had fallen to decay for want of a tenant. It was 
 probably the family residence of Martin Alonzo or Vicente 
 Yanez Pinzon, in the time of Columbus. 
 
 We now arrived at the church of St. George, in the porch of 
 which Columbus first proclaimed to the inhabitants of Palos 
 the order of the sovereigns, that they should furnish him with 
 ships for his great voyage of discovery. This edifice has 
 lately been thoroughly repaired, and, being of solid mason- 
 work, promises to stand for ages, a monument of the discover 
 ers. It stands outside of the village, on the brow of a hill, 
 looking along a little valley toward the river. The remains of 
 a Moorish arch prove it to have been a mosque in former 
 times ; just above it, on the crest of the hill, is the ruin of a 
 Moorish castle. 
 
 I paused in the porch and endeavoured to recall the 
 interesting scene that had taken place there, when Columbus, 
 accompanied by the zealous friar, Juan Perez, caused the 
 public notary to read the royal order in presence of the 
 astonished alcaldes, regidors, and alguazils; but it is difficult 
 to conceive the consternation that must have been struck into 
 so remote a little community, by this sudden apparition of an 
 entire stranger among them, bearing a command that they 
 should put their persons and ships at his disposal, and sail 
 with him away into the unknown wilderness of the ocean. 
 
 The interior of the church has nothing remarkable, except 
 ing a wooden image of St. George vanquishing the Dragon, 
 which is erected over the high altar, and is the admiration of 
 the good people of Palos, who bear it about the streets in 
 grand procession on the anniversary of the saint. This group 
 existed in the time of Columbus, and now flourishes in 
 
224 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 renovated youth and splendour, having been newly painted 
 and gilded, and the countenance of the saint rendered pecu 
 liarly blooming and lustrous. 
 
 Having finished the examination of the church, we resumed 
 our seats in the calesa and returned to Moguer. One thing 
 only remained to fulfil the object of my pilgrimage. This was 
 to visit the chapel of the Convent of Santa Clara. When 
 Columbus was in danger of being lost in a tempest on his way 
 lion- from his great voyage of discovery, he made a vow, 
 that should he be spared, he would watch and pray one whole 
 night in this chapel; a vow which he doubtless fulfilled 
 immediately after his arrival. 
 
 My kind and attentive friend, Don Juan, conducted me to 
 the convent. It is the wealthiest in Moguer, and belongs to a 
 sisterhood of Franciscan nuns. The chapel is large, and 
 ornamented with some degree of richness, particularly the 
 part about the high altar, which is embellished by magnificent 
 monuments of the brave family of the Puerto Carreros, the 
 ancient lords of Moguer, and renowned in Moorish warfare. 
 The alabaster effigies of distinguished warriors of that house, 
 and of their wives and sisters, lie side by side, with folded 
 hands, on tombs immediately before the altar, while others 
 recline in deep niches on either side. The night had closed in 
 by the time I entered the church, which made the scene more 
 impressive. A few votive lamps shed a dim light about the 
 interior ; their beams were feebly reflected by the gilded work 
 of the high altar, and the frames of the surrounding paintings, 
 and rested upon the marble figures of the warriors and dames 
 lying in the monumental repose of ages. The solemn pile 
 must have presented much the same appearance when the 
 pious discoverer performed his vigil, kneeling before this very 
 altar, and praying and watching throughout the night, and 
 pouring forth heart-felt praises for having been spared to ac 
 complish his sublime discovery. 
 
 I had now completed the main purpose of my journey, 
 having; visited the various places connected with the story of 
 Columbus. It was highly gratifying to find some of them so 
 little changed, though so great a space of time had intervened ; 
 but in this quiet nook of Spain, so far removed from the main 
 thoroughfares, the lapse of time produces but few violent 
 revolutions. Nothing, however, had surprised and gratified 
 me more than the continued stability of the Pinzon family. 
 On the morning after my excursion to Palos, chance gave me 
 
APPENDIX. 225 
 
 an opportunity of seeing something of the interior of most of 
 their households. Having a curiosity to visit the remains of a 
 Moorish castle, once the citadel of Moguer, Don Fernandez 
 undertook to show me a tower which served as a magazine of 
 wine to one of the Pinzon family. In seeking for the key we 
 were sent from house to house of nearly the whole connexion. 
 All appeared to be living in that golden mean equally removed 
 from the wants and superfluities of life, and all to be happily 
 interwoven by kind and cordial habits of intimacy. We 
 found the females of the family generally seated in the patios, 
 or central courts of their dwellings, beneath the shade of 
 awnings and among shrubs and flowers. Here the Andalusian 
 ladies are accustomed to pass their mornings at work, sur 
 rounded by their handmaids, ir. the primitive, or rather, 
 oriental style. In the porches of some of the houses I ob 
 served the coat of arms, granted to the family by Charles V., 
 hung up like a picture in a frame. Over the door of Don Luis, 
 the naval officer, it was carved on an escutcheon of stone, and 
 coloured. I had gathered many particulars of the family also 
 from conversation with Don Juan, and from the family legend 
 lent me by Don Luis. From all that I could learn, it would 
 appear that the lapse of nearly three centuries and a half has 
 made but little change in the condition of the Pinzons. From 
 generation to generation they have retained the same fair 
 standing and reputable name throughout the neighbourhood, 
 filling offices of public trust and dignity, and possessing great 
 influence over their fellow-citizens by their good sense and 
 good conduct. How rare is it to see such an instance of 
 stability of fortune in this fluctuating world, and how truly 
 honourable is this hereditary respectability, which has been 
 secured by no titles or entails, but perpetuated merely by the 
 innate worth of the race! I declare to you that the most 
 illustrious descents of mere titled rank could never command the 
 sincere respect and cordial regard with which I contemplated 
 this staunch and enduring family, which for three centuries 
 and a half has stood merely upon its virtues. 
 
 As I was to eet off on my return to Seville before two 
 o clock, I partook of a farewell repast at the house of Don 
 Juan, between twelve and one, and then took leave of his 
 household with sincere regret. The good old gentleman, with 
 the courtesy, or rather the cordiality of a true Spaniard, 
 accompanied me to the posada to see me off. I had dispensed 
 but little money in the posada thanks to the hospitality of 
 
226 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 the Pinzons yet the Spanish pride of my host and hostess 
 seemed pleased that I had preferred their humble chamber, 
 and the scanty bed they had provided me, to the spacious 
 mansion of Don Juan; and when I expressed my thanks for 
 their kindness and attention, and regaled mine host with a 
 few choice cigars, the heart of the poor man was overcome. 
 He seized me by both hands and gave me a parting bene 
 diction, and then ran after the calasero to enjoin him to take 
 particular care of me during my journey. 
 
 Taking a hearty leave of my excellent friend Don Juan, who 
 had been unremitting in his attentions to me to the last 
 moment, I now set off on my wayfaring, gratified to the 
 utmost with my visit, and full of kind and grateful feelings 
 towards Moguer and its hospitable inhabitants. 
 
 MANIFESTO OF ALONZO DE OJEDA. 
 
 [The following curious formula, composed by learned divines in Spain, was first 
 read aloud by the friars in the train of Alonzo de Ojecla as a prelude to his 
 attack on the savages of Carthagena; and was subsequently adopted by the 
 Spanish discoverers in general, in their invasions of the Indian countries.] 
 
 I, ALONZO DE OJEDA, servant of the high and mighty kings 
 of Castile and Leon, civilizers of barbarous nations, their 
 messenger and captain, notify and make known to you, in the 
 best way I can, that God our Lord, one and eternal, created 
 the heavens and the earth, and one man and one woman, from 
 whom you, and we, and all the people of the earth were and 
 are descendants, procreated, and all those who shall come 
 after us; but the vast number of generations which have 
 proceeded from t^em, in the course of more than five thous 
 and years that have elapsed since the creation of the world, 
 made it necessary that some of the human race should disperse 
 in one direction and some in another, and that they should 
 divide themselves into many kingdoms and provinces, as they 
 could not sustain and preserve themselves in one alone. All 
 these people were given in charge, by God our Lord, to one 
 person, named St. Peter, who was thus made lord and 
 superior of all the people of the earth, and head of fhe whole 
 human lineage, whom all should obey, wherever they might 
 live, and whatever might be their law, sect or belief ; he gave 
 
APPENDIX. 227 
 
 him also the whole world for his service and jurisdiction, and 
 though he desired that he should establish his chair in Rome, 
 as a place most convenient for governing the world, yet he 
 permitted that he might establish his chair in any other part 
 of the world, and judge and govern all the nations, Christians, 
 Moors, Jews, Gentiles, and whatever other sect or belief might 
 b^. This person was denominated Pope, that is to say, 
 admirable, supreme, father and guardian, because he is father 
 and governor of all mankind. This holy father was obeyed 
 and honoured as lord, king, and superior of the universe by 
 those who lived in his time, and, in like manner, have been 
 obeyed and honoured by all those who have been elected to 
 the Pontificate, and thus it has continued unto the present 
 day, and will continue until the end of the world. 
 
 One of these Pontiffs of whom I have spoken, as lord of the 
 world, made a donation of these islands and continents, of the 
 ocean, sea, and all that they contain, to the Catholic kings of 
 Castile, who at that time were Ferdinand and Isabella of 
 glorious memory, and to their successors, our sovereigns, 
 according to the tenor of certain papers drawn up for the 
 purpose, (which you may s:e if you desire.) Thus his majesty 
 is king and sovereign of these islands and continents by virtue 
 of the said donation; and as king and sovereign, certain 
 islands, and almost all to whom .this has been notified, have 
 received his majesty, and have obeyed and served and do 
 actually serve him. And, moreover, like good subjects, and 
 with good-will, and without any resistence or delay, the 
 moment they were informed of the foregoing, they obeyed all 
 the religious men sent among them to preach and teach our 
 Holy Faith ; and these of their free and cheerful will, without 
 any condition or reward, became Christians,, and continue so 
 to be. And his majesty received them kindly and benig- 
 iiaritly, and ordered that they should be treated like his other 
 subjects and vassals : you also are required and obliged to do 
 the same. Therefore, in the best manner I can, I pray and 
 entreat you, that you consider well what I have said, and that 
 you take whatever time is reasonable to understand and 
 deliberate upon it, and that you recognise the church for 
 sovereign and superior of the universal world, and the 
 supreme Poatiff, called Pope, in her name, and his majesty in 
 his place, as superior and sovereign king of the islands and 
 Terra Firraa, by virtue of the said donation; and that you 
 consent that these religious fathers declare and preach to you 
 
228 SPANISH VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY. 
 
 the foregoing ; and if you shall so do, you will do well ; and 
 will do that to which you are bounden and obliged ; and his 
 majesty, and I in his name, will receive you with all due love 
 and charity, and will leave you, your wives and children, free 
 from servitude, that you may freely do with these and with 
 yourselves whatever you please, and think proper, as have 
 done the inhabitants of the other islands. And besides this, 
 his majesty will give you many privileges and exemptions, 
 and ^rant you many favours. If you do not do this, or 
 wickedly and intentionally delay to do so, I certify to you, 
 that by the aid of God, I will powerfully invade and make 
 war upon you in all parts and modes that I can, and will 
 subdue you to the yoke and obedience of the church and of 
 his majesty, and I will take your wives and children and 
 make slaves of them, and sell them as such, and dispose of 
 them as Ins majesty may command; and I will take your 
 effects and will do you all the harm and injury in my power, 
 as vassals who will not obey or receive their sovereign and 
 who resist and oppose him. And I protest that the deaths and 
 disasters which may in this manner be occasioned, will be the 
 fault of yourselves and not of his majesty, nor of me, nor of 
 these cavaliers who accompany me. And of what I here tell 
 you and require of you, I call upon the notary here present to 
 me nirf signed testimonial. 
 
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