The right wing of this second battalion was led by Gonsalvo de Cordova, afterward renowned as grand captain of Spain; the left by Diego Lopez de Avila. They were accompanied by several distinguished cavaliers and certain captains of the Holy Brotherhood with their men-at-arms.
The duke of Medina Sidonia and the count de Cabra commanded the third battalion, with the troops of their respective houses. They were accompanied by other commanders of note with their forces.
The rearguard was brought up by the senior commander and knights of Alcantara, followed by the Andalusian chivalry from Xeres, Ecija, and Carmona.
Such was the army that issued forth from the gates of Antiquera on one of the most extensive “talas,” or devastating inroads, 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 and plantations of olives round that city. It then proceeded through the rich valleys and fertile uplands of Coin, Cazarabonela, Almexia, and Cartama, and in ten days all those fertile regions were a smoking and frightful desert. Hence it pursued its slow and destructive course, like the stream of lava of a volcano, through the regions of Pupiana and Alhendin, and so on to the vega of Malaga, laying waste the groves of olives and almonds and the fields of grain, and destroying every green thing. The Moors of some of those places interceded in vain for their groves and fields, offering to deliver up their Christian captives. One part of the army blockaded the towns, while the other ravaged the surrounding country. Sometimes the Moors sallied forth desperately to defend their property, but were driven back to their gates with slaughter and their suburbs pillaged and burnt. It was an awful spectacle at night to behold the volumes of black smoke mingled with lurid flames rising from the burning suburbs, and the women on the walls of the town wringing their hands and shrieking at the desolation of their dwellings.
The destroying army on arriving at the seacoast found vessels lying off shore laden with all kinds of provisions and munitions sent from Seville and Xeres, and was thus enabled to continue its desolating career. Advancing to the neighborhood of Malaga, it was bravely assailed by the Moors of that city, and there was severe skirmishing for a whole day; but, while the main part of the army encountered the enemy, the rest ravaged the whole vega and destroyed all the mills. As the object of the expedition was not to capture places, but merely to burn, ravage, and destroy, the host, satisfied with the mischief they had done in the vega, turned their backs upon Malaga and again entered the mountains. They passed by Coin and through the regions of Allazayna, and Gatero, and Alhaurin, all which were likewise desolated. In this way did they make the circuit of a 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 person of this destructive army; he increased its force, and added to its means of mischief several lombards and other heavy artillery, intended for the battering of towns and managed by engineers from France and Germany. With these the (7) marques of Cadiz assured the king he would soon be able to reduce the Moorish fortresses, which 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. 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 surrender. The place was given up on the 20th of June, on condition that the inhabitants might depart with their effects. The people of Malaga, as yet unacquainted with the power of this battering ordnance, were so incensed at those of Alora for what they considered a tame surrender that they would not admit them into their city.
A similar fate attended the town of Setenil, built on a lofty rock and esteemed impregnable. Many times had it been besieged under former Christian kings, but never 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 attack this unconquerable place.*
* Cura de los Palacios.
On the same night that these reproaches were uttered the marques directed the artillery himself: he levelled the lombards 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 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 defending their towns; they were formidable in their sallies and skirmishes, and patient in enduring hunger and thirst when besieged; but this terrible ordnance, which demolished their walls with such ease and rapidity, overwhelmed them with 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.
The last operation of this year, so disastrous to the Moors, was an inroad by Ferdinand, in the latter part of summer, 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 Abul Hassan was overwhelmed with dismay at the desolation which during the whole year had raged throughout his territories and had now reached 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 content without its complete fulfilment. Having supplied and strengthened the garrisons of the places 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 campaigns which 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 supported 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, endeavored 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 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 co
unsels, and in a little time the evils his mother had predicted fell upon him.
Old Muley Abul Hassan was almost extinguished by age and paralysis. 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 commander-in-chief of the Moorish armies, and gradually took upon himself most of the cares of sovereignty. Among other things, he was particularly zealous in espousing his brother’s quarrel with his son, and he prosecuted it with such vehemence 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 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 Granada. Boabdil was secretly but actively denounced by the alfaquis as an apostate leagued with the Christians against his country and his early faith; the affections of the populace and soldiery were gradually alienated from him, and a deep conspiracy 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. The latter 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 Aben Haxig, a younger brother of the monarch, and several Abencerrages, who rallied round them to protect them. “Where is the traitor Boabdil?” exclaimed El Zagal.
“I know no traitor more perfidious than thyself,” exclaimed the intrepid sultana; “and I trust my son is in safety, to take vengeance on thy treason.”
The rage of El Zagal was without bounds when he learnt that his intended victim had escaped. In his fury he slew the prince Aben Haxig, and his followers fell upon and massacred the Abencerrages. 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 his fleetest horses and followed by a handful of adherents, he galloped in the confusion out of the gates of Almeria. Several of the cavalry of El Zagal, 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 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 humiliated 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 I was 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 sympathy in the misfortunes of the monarch which becomes men of lofty and chivalrous souls. They received him with great distinction, 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, repaired to Malaga, where an attack of the Christians was apprehended. The young monarch being driven out of the land, and the old monarch blind and bedridden, El Zagal at the head of the armies was virtually the sovereign of Granada. He was supported by the brave and powerful families of the Alnayans and Vanegas; 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 recent effect of the battering ordnance in demolishing the Moorish fortresses induced King Ferdinand to procure a powerful train for the campaign of 1485, intending to assault some of the most formidable holds of the enemy.
An army of nine thousand cavalry and twenty thousand infantry assembled at Cordova early in the spring, and the king took the field on the 5th of April. It had been determined in secret council to attack the city of Malaga, that ancient and important seaport on which Granada depended for foreign aid and supplies. It was thought proper previously, however, to get possession of various towns and fortresses in the valleys of Santa Maria and Cartama, through which pass the roads to Malaga.
The first place assailed was the town of Benamexi or Bonameji. 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 carried by storm: one hundred and eight of the principal inhabitants were either put to the sword or hanged on the battlements; the rest were carried into captivity.*
* Pulgar, Garibay, Cura de los Palacios.
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 Alonso 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 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 Gomeres. He had not yet recovered from the rage and mortification of his defeat on the banks of the Lopera in the disastrous foray of old Bexir, when he had been obliged to steal back furtively to his 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 assembled at Monda. “Who among you,” cried he, “feels pity for the women and children of Coin exposed to captivity and death? Whoever he is, let him follow me, who am ready to die as a Moslem for the relief of Moslems.” So saying, he seized a white banner, and, waving it over his head, rode forth from the town, followed by the Gomeres. Many of the warriors, roused by his words and his example, spurred resolutely after his banner. The people of Coin, being prepared for this attempt, sallied forth as they saw the 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 b
esieged, and Hamet exhorted 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 Ferdinand, who was impatient of the resistance of the place, ordered the duke of Naxara and the count of Benavente to enter with their troops, and, as their forces were not sufficient, he sent word to Luis de Cerda, duke of Medina Celi, to send a part of his people to their assistance.
The feudal pride of the duke was roused at this demand. “Tell my lord the king,” said the haughty grandee, “that I have come to 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 mantas or portable bulwarks, and their other defences, they made a gallant assault and fought their way in at the breach. The Moors were so overcome by the fury of their assault that they retreated, fighting, to the square of the town. Pero Ruyz de Alarcon thought the place was carried, when suddenly Hamet and his Gomeres came scouring through the streets with wild war-cries, and fell furiously upon the Christians. The latter were in their turn beaten back, and, while attacked in front by the Gomeres, were assailed by the inhabitants with all kinds of missiles from their roofs and windows. They at length gave way and 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 Gomeres; his companions fled for their lives: the last they saw of him he was covered with wounds, but still fighting desperately for the fame of a good cavalier.*
Complete Fictional Works of Washington Irving (Illustrated) Page 264
