CHAPTER. I. LEILA IN THE CASTLE--THE SIEGE.
The calmer contemplations and more holy anxieties of Leila were, atlength, broken in upon by intelligence, the fearful interest of whichabsorbed the whole mind and care of every inhabitant of the castle.Boabdil el Chico had taken the field, at the head of a numerous army.Rapidly scouring the country, he had descended, one after one, upon theprincipal fortresses, which Ferdinand had left, strongly garrisoned,in the immediate neighbourhood. His success was as immediate as it wassignal; the terror of his arms began, once more to spread far and wide;every day swelled his ranks with new recruits; and from the snow-cladsummits of the Sierra Nevada poured down, in wild hordes, the fiercemountain race, who, accustomed to eternal winter, made a strangecontrast, in their rugged appearance and shaggy clothing, to theglittering and civilised soldiery of Granada.
Moorish towns, which had submitted to Ferdinand, broke from theirallegiance, and sent their ardent youth and experienced veterans to thestandard of the Keys and Crescent. To add to the sudden panic of theSpaniards, it went forth that a formidable magician, who seemed inspiredrather with the fury of a demon than the valour of a man, had made anabrupt appearance in the ranks of the Moslems. Wherever the Moors shrankback from wall or tower, down which poured the boiling pitch, or rolledthe deadly artillery of the besieged, this sorcerer--rushing into themidst of the flagging force, and waving, with wild gestures, a whitebanner, supposed by both Moor and Christian to be the work of magic andpreternatural spells--dared every danger, and escaped every weapon: withvoice, with prayer, with example, he fired the Moors to an enthusiasmthat revived the first days of Mohammedan conquest; and tower aftertower, along the mighty range of the mountain chain of fortresses, waspolluted by the wave and glitter of the ever-victorious banner. Theveteran, Mendo de Quexada, who, with a garrison of two hundred andfifty men, held the castle of Almamen, was, however, undaunted by theunprecedented successes of Boabdil. Aware of the approaching storm, hespent the days of peace yet accorded to him in making every preparationfor the siege that he foresaw; messengers were despatched to Ferdinand;new out-works were added to the castle; ample store of provisions laidin; and no precaution omitted that could still preserve to the Spaniardsa fortress that, from its vicinity to Granada, its command of the Vegaand the valleys of the Alpuxarras, was the bitterest thorn in the sideof the Moorish power.
It was early, one morning, that Leila stood by the lattice of her loftychamber gazing, with many and mingled emotions, on the distant domesof Granada, as they slept in the silent sunshine. Her heart, for themoment, was busy with the thoughts of home, and the chances and peril ofthe time were forgotten.
The sound of martial music, afar off, broke upon her reveries; shestarted, and listened breathlessly; it became more distinct and clear.The clash of the zell, the boom of the African drum, and the wild andbarbarous blast of the Moorish clarion, were now each distinguishablefrom the other; and, at length, as she gazed and listened, winding alongthe steeps of the mountain were seen the gleaming spears and pennants ofthe Moslem vanguard. Another moment and the whole castle was astir.
Mendo de Quexada, hastily arming, repaired, himself, to the battlements;and, from her lattice, Leila beheld him, from time to time, stationingto the best advantage his scanty troops. In a few minutes she was joinedby Donna Inez and the women of the castle, who fearfully clustered roundtheir mistress,--not the less disposed, however, to gratify the passionof the sex, by a glimpse through the lattice at the gorgeous array ofthe Moorish army.
The casements of Leila's chamber were peculiarly adapted to command asafe nor insufficient view of the progress of the enemy; and, with abeating heart and flushing cheek, the Jewish maiden, deaf to the voicesaround her, imagined she could already descry amidst the horsemen thelion port and snowy garments of Muza Ben Abil Gazan.
What a situation was hers! Already a Christian, could she hope for thesuccess of the infidel? ever a woman, could she hope for the defeat ofher lover? But the time for meditation on her destiny was but brief; thedetachment of the Moorish cavalry was now just without the walls of thelittle town that girded the castle, and the loud clarion of the heraldssummoned the garrison to surrender.
"Not while one stone stands upon another!" was the short answerof Quexada; and, in ten minutes afterwards, the sullen roar of theartillery broke from wall and tower over the vales below.
It was then that the women, from Leila's lattice, beheld, slowlymarshalling themselves in order, the whole power and pageantry of thebesieging army. Thick-serried--line after line, column upon column--theyspread below the frowning steep. The sunbeams lighted up that goodlyarray, as it swayed, and murmured, and advanced, like the billows of aglittering sea. The royal standard was soon descried waving above thepavilion of Boabdil; and the king himself, mounted on his cream-colouredcharger, which was covered with trappings of cloth-of-gold, wasrecognised amongst the infantry, whose task it was to lead the assault.
"Pray with us, my daughter!" cried Inez, falling on her knees.-Alas!what could Leila pray for?
Four days and four nights passed away in that memorable siege; for themoon, then at her full, allowed no respite, even in night itself. Theirnumbers, and their vicinity to Granada, gave the besiegers the advantageof constant relays, and troop succeeded to troop; so that the weary hadever successors in the vigour of new assailants.
On the fifth day, all of the fortress, save the keep (an immense tower),was in the hands of the Moslems; and in this last hold, the worn-out andscanty remnant of the garrison mustered, in the last hope of a brave,despair.
Quexada appeared, covered with gore and dust-his eyes bloodshot, hischeek haggard and hollow, his locks blanched with sudden age-in the hallof the tower, where the women, half dead with terror, were assembled.
"Food!" cried he,--"food and wine!--it may be our last banquet."
His wife threw her arms round him. "Not yet," he cried, "not yet; wewill have one embrace before we part."
"Is there, then, no hope?" said Inez, with a pale cheek, yet steady eye.
"None; unless to-morrow's dawn gild the spears of Ferdinand's armyupon yonder hills. Till morn we may hold out." As he spoke, he hastilydevoured some morsels of food, drained a huge goblet of wine, andabruptly quitted the chamber.
At that moment, the women distinctly heard the loud shouts of the Moors;and Leila, approaching the grated casement, could perceive the approachof what seemed to her like moving wails.
Covered by ingenious constructions of wood and thick hides, thebesiegers advanced to the foot of the tower in comparative shelter fromthe burning streams which still poured, fast and seething, from thebattlements; while, in the rear came showers of darts and cross-boltsfrom the more distant Moors, protecting the work of the engineer, andpiercing through almost every loophole and crevice in the fortress.
Meanwhile the stalwart governor beheld, with dismay and despair, thepreparations of the engineers, whom the wooden screen-works protectedfrom every weapon.
"By the Holy Sepulchre!" cried he, gnashing his teeth, "they are miningthe tower, and we shall be buried in its ruins! Look out, Gonsalvo! seeyou not a gleam of spears yonder over the mountain? Mine eyes are dimwith watching."
"Alas! brave Mendo, it is only the sloping sun upon the snows--but thereis hope yet."
The soldier's words terminated in a shrill and sudden cry of agony; andhe fell dead by the side of Quexada, the brain crushed by a bolt from aMoorish arquebus.
"My best warrior!" said Quexada; "peace be with him! Ho, there! see youyon desperate infidel urging on the miners? By the heavens above, it ishe of the white banner!--it is the sorcerer! Fire on him! he is withoutthe shelter of the woodworks."
Twenty shafts, from wearied and nerveless arms, fell innocuous round theform of Almamen: and as, waving aloft his ominous banner, he disappearedagain behind the screen-works, the Spaniards almost fancied they couldhear his exulting and demon laugh.
The sixth day came, and the work of the enemy was completed. The towerwas enti
rely undermined--the foundations rested only upon wooden props,which, with a humanity that was characteristic of Boabdil, had beenplaced there in order that the besieged might escape ere the final crashof their last hold.
It was now noon: the whole Moorish force, quitting the plain, occupiedthe steep that spread below the tower, in multitudinous array andbreathless expectation. The miners stood aloof--the Spaniards layprostrate and exhausted upon the battlements, like mariners who, afterevery effort against the storm, await, resigned, and almost indifferent,the sweep of the fatal surge.
Suddenly the lines of the Moors gave way, and Boabdil himself, with Muzaat his right hand, and Almamen on his left, advanced towards the foot ofthe tower. At the same time, the Ethiopian guards, each bearing a torch,marched slowly in the rear; and from the midst of them paced theroyal herald and sounded the last warning. The hush of the immensearmament--the glare of the torches, lighting the ebon faces and giantforms of their bearers--the majestic appearance of the king himself--theheroic aspect of Muza--the bare head and glittering banner ofAlmamen--all combined with the circumstances of the time to invest thespectacle with something singularly awful, and, perhaps, sublime.
Quexada turned his eyes, mutely, round the ghastly faces of hiswarriors, and still made not the signal. His lips muttered--his eyesglared: when, suddenly, he heard below the wail of women; and thethought of Inez, the bride of his youth, the partner of his age, cameupon him; and, with a trembling hand, he lowered the yet unquailingstandard of Spain. Then, the silence below broke into a mighty shout,which shook the grim tower to its unsteady and temporary base.
"Arise, my friends," he said, with a bitter sigh; "we have fought likemen--and our country will not blush for us." He descended the windingstairs--his soldiers followed him with faltering steps: the gates of thekeep unfolded, and these gallant Christians surrendered themselves tothe Moor.
"Do with it as you will," said Quexada, as he laid the keys at the hoofsof Boabdil's barb; "but there are women in the garrison, who--"
"Are sacred," interrupted the king. "At once we accord their liberty,and free transport whithersoever ye would desire. Speak, then! To whatplace of safety shall they be conducted?"
"Generous king!" replied the veteran Quexada, brushing away his tearswith the back of his hand; "you take the sting from our shame. We acceptyour offer in the same spirit in which it is made. Across the mountains,on the verge of the plain of Olfadez, I possess a small castle,ungarrisoned and unfortified. Thence, should the war take thatdirection, the women can readily obtain safe conduct to the queen atCordova."
"Be it so," returned Boabdil. Then, with Oriental delicacy, selectingthe eldest of the officers round him, he gave him instructions to enterthe castle, and, with a strong guard, provide for the safety of thewomen, according to the directions of Quexada. To another of hisofficers he confided the Spanish prisoners, and gave the signal to hisarmy to withdraw from the spot, leaving only a small body to completethe ruin of the fortress.
Accompanied by Almamen and his principal officers, Boabdil now hastenedtowards Granada; and while, with slower progress, Quexada and hiscompanions, under a strong escort, took their way across the Vega, asudden turn in their course brought abruptly before them the tower theyhad so valiantly defended. There it still stood, proud and stern, amidstthe blackened and broken wrecks around it, shooting aloft, dark andgrim, against the sky. Another moment, and a mighty crash soundedon their ears, while the tower fell to the earth, amidst volumes ofwreathing smoke and showers of dust, which were borne, by the concussionto the spot on which they took their last gaze of the proudest fortresson which the Moors of Granada had beheld, from their own walls, thestandard of Arragon and Castile.
At the same time, Leila--thus brought so strangely within the veryreach of her father and her lover, and yet, by a mysterious fate, stilldivided from both,--with Donna Inez, and the rest of the females of thegarrison, pursued her melancholy path along the ridges of the mountains.
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