CHAPTER XXII

TERMINATION OF THE RECONQUEST

1486–1492

Summary of the Causes of the Decay of the Moslem Empire--Loja taken by Storm--Progress of the Feud between Al-Zagal and Boabdil--The Christians assist the Latter--Anarchy in Granada--Siege of Velez--Ineffectual Attempt of Al-Zagal to relieve it--Surrender of the City--Situation of Malaga--Its Delightful Surroundings--Its Vast Commercial and Manufacturing Interests--It is invested by Ferdinand--Desperate Resistance of the Garrison--Its Sufferings--Capitulation of the City--Enslavement of the Population--Duplicity of the Spanish Sovereigns--War with Al-Zagal--Siege of Baza--Discontent of the Christian Soldiery--Energy and Firmness of the Queen--Embassy from the Sultan--Baza surrenders--Al-Zagal relinquishes His Crown--War with Boabdil--The Last Campaign--Blockade of Granada--Distress of Its Inhabitants--Submission of the Capital--Fate of Boabdil--Isabella the Inspiring Genius of the Conquest.

The relentless policy of the Spanish sovereigns, which, in addition to the resources of honorable warfare, adopted without reserve every crafty expedient to weaken the power of their adversaries, pursued its end with unflagging perseverance and indomitable energy. The paramount value of the old Roman maxim, “Divide et impera,” which had been the corner-stone of the great political fabric that dominated the ancient world, had long been fully recognized by the Christian sovereigns of the Peninsula. The animosity of the Moslem factions that so frequently, in the settlement of their sanguinary disputes, summoned from the Desert great hordes of Mauritanian barbarians, first afforded to the struggling Castilian monarchy an example whose teachings it was not slow to appreciate and to follow. From the earliest times, its surreptitious aid to or its open alliance with the weaker party had fomented and encouraged the feuds of the Spanish Arabs. It was this incessant interference which, countenancing the aspirations of bold and unprincipled adventurers and in direct contravention of the principles of national amity, kept every Moslem court in a state of continued apprehension and turmoil. Even the frequent seditions, the general disorganization consequent upon the encroachments of powerful nobles and the protracted minority of infant kings, while they somewhat diminished by no means abrogated this useful and effective method of conquering an enemy by the promotion of internecine strife. The pre-eminent valor of the Castilian chivalry can never be disputed. But, as important a factor as it was in the military affairs of Europe, the part it played in the Conquest of Granada was a subordinate one. The destruction of Moslem power was mainly effected by the machinations of political intrigue, and to this end the deplorable state of a society where an absolute want of moral principle was disclosed by the perpetration of the most atrocious crimes largely contributed. The popularity of the khalifs and the emirs was always superficial, and often only nominal. Their superior dignity both as sovereigns and legatees of the holy office of Mohammed exalted them far above the most eminent of their subjects. With the masses, whom they seldom condescended to notice, they could have nothing in common. Their empire, obtained by conquest, was ruled by despotism and preserved by force. The incalculable benefits conferred by their wise and enlightened administration were never appreciated by those who enjoyed them. The savage ferocity of the Bedouin, transmitted through countless generations, dominated every other impulse. It exercised its baleful influence in the gorgeous palace of the sovereign, in the busy haunts of commerce, in the hut of the stolid and irascible peasant, even in the temple where were publicly inculcated the obligations of forgiveness and peace. The prospect of boundless empire, the advantages of a lucrative trade, the acquisition of enormous wealth, the prosecution of philosophical studies, the remembrance of great achievements, the conscious pride of mental superiority, the omnipresent tokens of a magnificent civilization, could never erase from the Arab mind the traditions of hereditary prejudice or fuse into an harmonious whole the discordant elements of the Arab character.

There is nothing more pathetic in human annals than the destruction of a nation whose works have for ages contributed to the welfare and happiness of mankind, whose discoveries in every department of knowledge have called forth the applause of the learned and elicited the grateful acknowledgment of subsequent generations, and which, consumed by the unquenchable fire of internal discord, has squandered in civil war the talents and the resources which, properly applied, might have for centuries maintained its greatness and perpetuated its power. The fall of the Moslem empire in Europe is a striking example of the inexorable law of human destiny. Had the Moslems not succumbed to the encroachments of Castilian conquest, their eternal dissensions must have eventually invited the interference of some other aggressor. Commercial prosperity, which, while encouraging selfishness and luxury, degrades in the eyes of an effeminate and cowardly population the profession of arms, had sapped the vitality of the kingdom of Granada. Its bravest defenders were not natives of the soil, but mercenaries from Africa. Partisan frenzy which hesitated at no excesses had usurped the rights and supplanted the sentiments of patriotism. The most flagrant depravity permeated every class of society. The beauties of a terrestrial paradise were polluted by scenes which proclaimed the shocking degradation of mankind; by crimes which cannot be conceived without dismay; by vices which cannot be mentioned without shame. Thus infected with corruption, enfeebled by treason, its treasures dissipated by civil war, its blood lavishly shed in the suicidal strife of its factions, with one party in open alliance with the enemy of its race and its creed, no nation could long preserve its integrity or its existence.

In accordance with the concerted plan of the Spanish court, which contemplated the prosecution of hostilities interrupted only by the inclemency of the seasons, it was determined to again attempt the conquest of Loja. A force of fifty-two thousand men was considered necessary to carry this enterprise to a successful termination. The memory of former disaster suggested the expediency of the most ample and thorough preparation. It was decided to establish, in the form of a triangle, three different camps in the lines of circumvallation, each of which, strongly fortified and independent of the others, should be capable of resisting, if necessary, the entire power of the Moslem armies. The uneven character of the ground, rendered more difficult of access by the groves and houses with which it was covered, afforded such opportunities for ambush and surprise that the reduction of the city by the ordinary method of investment was considered impracticable. In addition to this disadvantage, its proximity to Granada and its consequent pre-eminent value as a bulwark of that city, rendered it certain that an attempt would be made to relieve it. The military organization was more complete than had been aimed at in any previous campaign. Gradually, and with a tact which concealed its object while perfecting its designs, the reins of discipline were tightened without giving offence to the naturally proud and insubordinate spirit of the Spanish soldiery. To convey the artillery and the supplies for the camp, two thousand carts and seventy thousand beasts of burden were assembled. The fame of the war and the reported wealth of the Moors had by this time become familiar to Europe, and numerous adventurers from other countries hastened to serve under the banners of Castile and Aragon, in a cause which, promoted by liberal indulgences and sanctified by the papal benediction, had been invested with the character of a pious crusade. It was no unusual occurrence for the chivalry of France to participate in the glory of Spanish campaigns; in the wars of Don Pedro el Cruel, the English knights had obtained an enviable reputation for valor and courtesy amidst a people whose national distinction was the possession of these attributes in an eminent degree; and now, inspired by the example of his countrymen, the Earl of Rivers, connected by blood with Elizabeth of York, Queen Consort of England, came to tender his services to the sovereigns of Spain. Besides his esquires, three hundred archers and battle-axemen followed in his train, sturdy yeomen armed with those weapons which, almost unknown in the wars of the Peninsula, were wielded by the strangers with matchless dexterity and strength.

The reported advance of the Spanish army on Loja was received by the feeble and unprincipled Boabdil with feelings of undisguised consternation. His prudence, which at times bordered upon abject cowardice, prompted him to abandon the city to its fate. While motives of policy, dictated by fears inspired by the threats of an offended suzerain, impelled him to adopt a pusillanimous inaction, the menacing clamors of the people, refusing to witness unmoved the sacrifice of a frontier fortress of such importance, admonished him that if he neglected to heed their remonstrances his crown might be endangered. Therefore, without further delay, he called together forty-five hundred well-armed troops, and entered Loja a short time before the arrival of the Christian vanguard. The approach of the latter was the signal for a sortie from the city. A bloody skirmish took place in one of the suburbs near the scene of the former Christian discomfiture, but the Moors were repulsed with loss; and Boabdil, who had greatly distinguished himself by his reckless bravery, received two painful wounds, which for the time disabled him.

As the investment proceeded, the incessant activity of the besieged made it necessary to adopt the greatest vigilance in protecting the camps. As soon as they had been thoroughly fortified the suburbs were stormed, an undertaking of much difficulty, and only accomplished after the loss of many lives. In these contests the brawny arm of Hamet-al-Zegri, who had come from Malaga, and, with his ferocious troopers, appeared in the thickest of the fight, was eminently conspicuous. The lombards, brought within easy range of the walls, soon opened a breach, through which the impetuous soldiery made their way. In the streets barricades impeded their advance; and the Moors, in the exertion of desperate but unavailing efforts, casting aside all other weapons, defended the passage with their daggers. For eight hours, without cessation, the battle went on. The ground, won foot by foot, was covered with corpses and slippery with blood. In no engagement of the war was an attack met with more determined obstinacy. The Earl of Rivers, who sustained with distinguished gallantry the reputation of the English name, was wounded in the mouth, and escaped death by a miracle. The path of the storming column was marked by the bodies of his archers who had fallen in the ranks, and who, on that fiercely contested field, surpassed in serene and inflexible courage even the glorious prowess of the famous chivalry of Spain. At length the garrison and the surviving inhabitants were driven into the citadel. Its area was so circumscribed that all available space was densely packed with a mass of struggling, shrieking humanity. The terrible lombards were drawn forward and trained upon the fortress. At the first discharge a tower where a large number of men and women had taken refuge was shattered and fell, burying hundreds in its ruins. In addition to the havoc made by the artillery, arrows, to which were attached flaming balls of tow steeped in naphtha, were shot into the castle, bearing conflagration in their wake, and consuming buildings into which, for greater security, the sick and wounded had been carried. The helpless citizens, thus exposed to inevitable death, now clamored for surrender; but even the desperate condition which confronted him failed to move the timorous and irresolute Boabdil, who was justly apprehensive of the wrath of the Spanish King. The situation soon became so critical, however, that the Moslem prince was compelled to make overtures for capitulation, which were received with greater indulgence than he had reason to expect; and, after an humble apology, he was permitted to retire in safety from the city he had defended with such heroic but fruitless valor. The people of Loja were granted the privilege of retaining their personal property on condition of abandoning their homes, and the roads leading to Granada and Malaga were soon crowded with weeping exiles, whose lamentations and distress affected even the iron hearts of the Spanish soldiery, hardened by repeated scenes of suffering and blood.

Illora and Moclin soon shared the fate of Loja. Their vicinity to Granada, affording the greatest facilities for reinforcement and relief, the vital importance of their possession, located, as they were, almost at the gates of the capital, and practically controlling its approaches, their stupendous defences, especially those of Moclin, which almost rivalled in strength the walls and towers of Ronda, did not prevent Boabdil from basely abandoning these keys of the Vega to the Christian enemy. In vain were messengers repeatedly despatched to implore the help of their countrymen. The King, a prey to conflicting emotions, hesitating between fear of the Spaniards and apprehension of domestic violence, remained insensible to the appeals of his beleaguered subjects, who, resisting the besiegers with every resource within their power, cursed the destiny that had placed them in the hands of such an unworthy sovereign. During the siege of Moclin, a tower containing the magazine was blown up by a fire-arrow, and the surrender was precipitated by this casualty, which not only killed many soldiers, but deprived the survivors of an indispensable means of defence. The campaign was concluded by the voluntary submission of Montefrio and Colomera, and by a foray through the Vega marked by the pitiless devastation that always accompanied these expeditions.

The series of disasters which continued to afflict the Moslem cause, and to suggest the imminence of the final catastrophe in which everything would be lost, began, when too late, to arouse public feeling against Boabdil, who, blind to the dangers that menaced him, saw from his palace his nominal allies storming his cities and wasting his territory with fire and sword. Especially violent was the fury of Al-Zagal, who, realizing that nothing short of the death of his nephew could mitigate the evils that harassed the kingdom, adopted every expedient to accomplish that object. His emissaries sought opportunities to stab or poison Boabdil, but in vain. Foiled in his attempts, the fierce old veteran wreaked his vengeance without pity on all the principal adherents of the adverse faction who fell into his hands. His machinations in the absence of Boabdil, who remained at Velez el Blanco under treatment for the wounds he had received at Loja, so increased the public discontent at Granada that the authority of the absent King was in danger of being undermined in his own stronghold, the Albaycin. To counteract these intrigues, Boabdil one night suddenly appeared before a gate of that riotous quarter of the city. His arrival was the signal for the renewal of the fratricidal strife which had already decimated the ranks of the Moorish nobles, and sacrificed to the rancor of partisan hostility the bravest youths of the kingdom. National misfortunes, the subject of mutual accusation and reproach, had intensified the hatred of both factions; the war now became one of extermination; quarter was neither asked nor expected; the wounded were killed as they lay, and every prisoner was despatched without mercy. From the streets, reeking like a shambles with the horrible butchery, the conflict was transferred to the Vega. Entire days were consumed in these scenes of horror, until the combatants, exhausted by their efforts, but not satiated with bloodshed, retired to their quarters to recuperate their failing strength. In all these encounters the adherents of Al-Zagal had the advantage, but the crafty old King, desirous of sparing his soldiers, determined to reduce his enemy by siege. A strong intrenchment was drawn around the Albaycin, and the inhabitants, whose allegiance to their sovereign had already been shaken by the apathy he evinced during the public distress, in addition to the evils of warfare, were now threatened with the sufferings of famine. The general disaffection, no longer concealed, threatened the sacrifice of an obnoxious ruler to the public peace, when Boabdil anticipated this treasonable intention by an act which has condemned his name to everlasting disgrace. The aid of the Christians was invoked to sustain his tottering throne; and Don Fadrique de Toledo, governor of the frontier, advanced without delay, at the head of a considerable force, to maintain the pretensions of the nominal ally, but actual dupe, of the astute and unprincipled Ferdinand. The instructions given to all the Spanish commanders forbade the weakening of either faction to such an extent as to endanger the equilibrium of the balance of power, which, carefully maintained during the ruthless struggle, must eventually prove fatal to both parties and result in the complete disintegration of the monarchy. Don Fadrique therefore amused each prince in turn with the prospect of negotiation and alliance, alarming both and assisting neither, until their mutual exasperation was again excited to the verge of frenzy, when he quietly withdrew. But the enthusiasm of Boabdil’s partisans, largely feigned and artificial, vanished with the departure of the Spaniards. The merchants and artificers of the Albaycin were weary of the ruinous interruption of their trade, and the majority of the inhabitants of that quarter of the city, long the scene of insurrection and bloodshed, began to turn towards Al-Zagal in the hope of security and peace. The tidings of this revulsion of feeling alarmed the scheming diplomats of the Spanish court, and measures were at once taken to counteract it. Martin Alarcon, Governor of Moclin, and Gonsalvo de Cordova, Governor of Illora,--afterwards famous as the Great Captain, and now fast rising to distinction among the Castilian commanders,--both eminent for tactical genius and intrepidity, were secretly admitted with a body of picked men into the Albaycin. The gold with which they were abundantly provided proved more attractive to the mercenary populace of Granada than loyalty to king or love of country. Multitudes hastened to enlist; a few hours were sufficient to collect a force respectable in numbers, if not in character and discipline; and the discouraged Boabdil, with the appearance of prosperous fortune secured at the expense of national honor and personal integrity, was again able to indulge the hope of gratifying his furious and insatiable thirst for vengeance and of maintaining the precarious existence of his ephemeral power. The introduction of armed Christians within the walls of the Moorish capital was, of itself, to many reflecting Moslems a most inauspicious omen. But when to this was added the dishonorable reason for their presence, the fact that the hereditary sovereign of the Alhamares had implored against his own countrymen the support of enemies, who, for seven hundred years, had pursued his race with all the rancor of theological hatred and national hostility, and was employing the gold donated by the Christian infidel to secure the doubtful allegiance of men who, degraded by every abject vice, were equally insensible to the influence of personal merit or patriotic principle, the portent became still darker and more menacing. The degradation of the contemptible Boabdil was now complete. Nothing of which he might hereafter be guilty could add to the overwhelming measure of his infamy. He had already sacrificed the welfare of his country to retain a kingdom which he had neither the capacity to govern nor the resolution to defend. He was now putting his subjects up at auction, and tempting them to assist in their own enslavement by the acceptance of money furnished by foes who aspired to become their masters. Supine in every emergency requiring action, he only displayed energy in furthering the designs of those who struck at the independent existence of his people, the permanence of his dynasty, and the retention of his crown.

It was not characteristic of Al-Zagal to witness unmoved the treacherous introduction of enemies into the heart of his capital. Strong detachments were summoned from Baza and Guadix, sharp-shooters were stationed on the roofs of houses within range of the Alcazaba, the streets were obstructed by barricades, and all attempts of the Spaniards to penetrate into the city having been repulsed, the scene of hostilities was transferred to the suburbs, where, for two months, with varying success, the two factions indulged to satiety their thirst for blood, expended in daily encounters the strength which, judiciously applied, would have repelled the common enemy, and prosecuted, to the exultant satisfaction of the Christians, the war of extermination, which insured to the latter the ultimate triumph of their power. It was in vain that the citizens most eminent for wealth and position, appalled by the enormities they were daily compelled to witness, endeavored to stem the tide of slaughter and anarchy. Some of these were impelled by sincerely patriotic sentiments, others by simulated indignation assumed to gratify the sordid motives of personal ambition and private interest. Among the latter were many santons, or ascetics, who, in addition to the reverence attached to their calling, exercised among the populace the pernicious influence of the demagogue. In this class the emissaries of Ferdinand found most ardent and efficient supporters, who greedily accepted the gold which was to be the price of their treason. No greater proof of national decadence can exist than that thus exhibited by the corruption of spiritual guides who have voluntarily assumed the vow of poverty, and yet are willing to barter for the bribes of an enemy the peace and honor of their country and the maintenance of its religious faith. Those partisans of Boabdil who amidst the general distress had been fortunate enough to preserve intact a portion of their possessions were induced to remain steadfast in their allegiance by fallacious promises of exclusive commercial privileges with the Christian kingdoms of the Peninsula, promises which were conveniently forgotten when the time arrived for their fulfilment. To further confirm the timid in their adherence to an unpopular and unpatriotic cause, the severest penalties were denounced against all who wavered in their allegiance to Boabdil, or in any way assisted the opposite faction, which was not only secretly regarded by the Christians themselves as the exponent of Moorish nationality, but was recognized by the better class of the population of the kingdom as representative of the remaining dignity of the Alhamares and the rallying point of the Moslem power. Having expended their treasure and secured the continuance of the suicidal strife so necessary to the successful realization of the designs of their sovereign, the Spaniards retired from Granada.

The attention of the Moors having been thus distracted from the operations of Ferdinand by their frenzied efforts at mutual destruction, the Christian army, assembled at Archidona, took up its march for the South with a view to the conquest of Velez. This city, situated on the mountain slope within a quarter of a mile of the sea, possessed the advantages of commanding the roads to Granada and the coast, and was considered the key of Malaga. Fortified with great strength, and inaccessible to heavy artillery on account of the rugged nature of the country, it had long been celebrated as the head-quarters of the most audacious and savage troopers who visited with their desolating presence the fertile plains of Andalusia. In addition to its walls and its citadel,--one of the strongest in the kingdom,--its suburbs, which were of great extent, were protected by extensive works and by ditches impassable by cavalry. A league away, on the very summit of the mountain, was Bentomiz, a fortress whose proximity might prove dangerous to a besieging army, and whose approaches were so difficult as almost to defy attack.

The arrival of the Spaniards was followed by a skirmish, where the King, exposed to great danger, behaved with his habitual intrepidity, and by his heroic example saved his followers from defeat. The next day, six hours of constant fighting were required to dislodge the Moors from the suburbs, where a sharp hand-to-hand contest was maintained as far as the walls of the city. Every effort was now exerted to hasten the advance of the siege-train. The progress of the latter was exceedingly slow. It was found necessary to construct roads for its passage through a region hitherto traversed only by steep and dangerous paths. Only the smaller pieces could be transported at all, and the lombards, whose effectiveness had been felt in every previous campaign, were left at Antequera. But three miles a day could be accomplished owing to these obstacles, to which was added the danger of surprise from the enemy, who was constantly hovering above on the sierras, and whose chain of fires at night illumined the horizon for many a league. The uncertainty of the event, the perils with which he was surrounded, and the caution born of costly experience, impressed upon Ferdinand the necessity of maintaining a rigorous discipline. The freebooting character of the Spanish levies, accustomed for generations to the uncontrolled exercise of military license, rendered the enforcement of such a measure an undertaking of extreme difficulty. But the iron will of the King, supported by the co-operation of his principal commanders, proved equal to the task. Drunkenness, gambling, and fighting were severely punished. No one was permitted to engage the enemy without authority from his superior. Rapine and incendiarism were sternly repressed. Vicious persons of both sexes were expelled from the lines. The adoption of these regulations, enforced by the summary execution of a few offenders, effected a remarkable transformation in the manners of the soldiery, and quiet and order began to reign in the camp, which, but a short time before, had been the scene of riot, insubordination, and boisterous revelry. Such a sudden and complete metamorphosis was without parallel in the history of European armies. The severe discipline established by Ferdinand before Velez laid the foundation of the celebrity for steadiness in battle subsequently attained by the armies of Spain. The efforts of Gonsalvo de Cordova and his illustrious comrades and successors in perfecting the system inaugurated by their sovereign, maintained and improved that high state of efficiency which carried the arms of Castile and Aragon over two worlds in an uninterrupted career of victory and conquest.

In the mean time, while the loss of the southern portion of the kingdom was imminent, the murderous hostility of the contending parties in Granada continued unabated. Anarchy, in its most dreadful form, prevailed throughout the entire capital. The streets, the scene of daily encounters, were strewn with the dead. In every home were the signs of conflict, in every household the melancholy evidences of bereavement and distress. All trade was at an end. The city was a prey to outlaws. Reputation for the ownership of gold and jewels was equivalent to a sentence of death. The ruffian soldiery, cruel, sensual, and rapacious, intruded unchallenged into the private apartments of the most noble families of the kingdom. Even the retired precincts of the harem, sacred and inviolate in the eyes of every sincere believer, were not respected. Female virtue was sacrificed to the licentious passions of those whose first duty was to defend it. Every dwelling that promised a rich return was plundered. In these deeds of rapine and bloodshed the partisans of the mean-spirited Boabdil were disgracefully conspicuous. To such extremes of ignominy was that prince driven to earn the support and approbation of perfidious allies, only to eventually merit the contempt and abhorrence of posterity.

The pugnacious instincts of Al-Zagal were aroused by the new invasion of his enemies which menaced his supremacy on the coast. But scarcely able to maintain his ground against his nephew in the Albaycin, he was in no condition to successfully contend with the numerous and well-appointed squadrons of Castile. He was justly fearful that his absence would be immediately followed by the triumph of his adversary and his permanent exclusion from the capital; in his perplexity he made overtures for peace. His patriotic suggestion that all Moslems should unite and expel the enemy from their borders was rejected with scorn by Boabdil, who insulted with opprobrious epithets the age and dignity of his uncle, and, recounting in detail the attempts to murder him, declared that his desire was not for reconciliation but for vengeance. Apprehensive of misfortune, yet unable longer to withstand the importunity of his counsellors, who realized the disastrous consequences which must ensue from the fall of Velez, and confident that his success would insure the ruin of his rival, whose authority was more dependent on the pecuniary aid of the Christians than on the attachment of his adherents, Al-Zagal summoned all the troops at his disposal, and, leaving the city secretly, prepared to surprise the Spaniards in their intrenchments. His army, though formidable in numbers, was far from being equal in efficiency and prowess to those he had formerly led to victory. His bravest followers, the flower of the chivalry of Granada, and the fierce horsemen of the Desert, whose impetuosity and prowess had so often prevailed over the seasoned veterans of Castile, had fallen in the bloody encounters provoked by the treason and the enmity of Boabdil or had perished by the hand of the assassin. His partisans, with the exception of a few detachments drawn from the district still faithful to his cause, were composed of raw levies, most of them mere boys, unaccustomed to discipline, and unfamiliar with military evolutions and the practice of warfare except as they had been learned in the melancholy school of civil discord and in the sanguinary riots which daily polluted with the blood of unarmed citizens the streets of the Moorish capital. Such were the inadequate means with which Al-Zagal was about to confront the most thoroughly organized and equipped force which had ever served under the banners of the Spanish monarchy. Immense bonfires on the mountain peaks announced to the Christians the approach of the enemy. A reconnoissance soon revealed his identity. The capture of a scout to whom the plan of a midnight attack had been imprudently intrusted enabled Ferdinand to defeat the project of his adversary. The designs of Al-Zagal, though conceived with his usual sagacity, were not executed with the vigor and caution which had previously characterized his operations. Traitors in the pay of the Spaniards lurked in his camp, and his intended movements were hardly planned before they were communicated to the enemy. It was the intention of the Moorish king to destroy the siege-train, which, loaded on fifteen hundred carts, had at last been brought with infinite toil to a spot two miles from Velez. Isolated from the main body of the army, with its guard unsuspicious of danger, a nocturnal surprise would probably have insured its destruction, and, as an inevitable consequence, have compelled the retirement of the besiegers. The scout who had been taken was on his way to Velez to detail the plan and obtain the co-operation of the garrison at the signal of an immense fire to be kindled on the highest peak of the sierra. At the appointed hour the beacon blazed forth against the sky, and the Moslem battalions moved silently forward. As soon as they were fairly involved in the labyrinth of lanes and shaded avenues traversing the suburbs, they were assailed on all sides by overwhelming numbers of the enemy lying in ambush. The suddenness of the attack precipitated a panic. The darkness prevented organized defence, retreat was intercepted, and the Moors were exposed for hours to the deadly fire of foes who fought in comparative security under the shelter of trees and hedges. The cries of the combatants filled the air; the repeated flashes of musketry lighted up the field, revealing the heaps of the dead and dying; the desperate charges of the Moors failed to pierce the lines of the Christians,--indeed they were hardly able in the dense obscurity of an unfamiliar locality to even determine their position; and the contest begun under such disadvantageous conditions for those who had themselves planned a surprise terminated in a massacre. The din of battle reached the city, and the garrison attempted a sortie. The prudence of Ferdinand had anticipated this movement, however, and the Moors, advancing to the relief of their countrymen, were driven back into their fortifications. The first light of dawn fell upon the broken remnant of the Moslem army, which, to the number of more than twenty thousand, had the evening before covered the sierra, and whose soldiers, magnified by the uncertain light of myriads of fires into gigantic spectres, seemed to threaten with annihilation the Spaniards encamped in the valleys far below. Those who survived were scattered everywhere through the mountains, and so complete was their dispersion that the Christians could not realize at first the extent and importance of their victory, nor was it until the discovery of countless weapons abandoned in the hurry of flight and the reports of scouts who had seen the crowds of fugitives had reassured them, that they ventured to relax the unusual vigilance assumed through apprehension of a ruse, or were convinced that a host of well-armed warriors could vanish thus like mist before the rising sun. This overwhelming rout practically decided the fate of the kingdom of Granada. It invested with new and extraordinary prestige the reputation of the Spanish sovereigns. The influence of Boabdil, the discredited hireling and tool of the Castilian court, had long ceased to be formidable. The power of Al-Zagal as a disturbing factor in the hopeless struggle for national existence was forever destroyed. The old monarch, after his defeat, fled to Almuñecar. While journeying from there to Granada, he learned that the mob of that city had risen and declared for his nephew, who was then in possession of the Alhambra, and that such of his own partisans as had not been able to escape had been decapitated without ceremony. Accompanied by a slender escort, the melancholy remnant of that valiant African guard which had participated in the glory and plunder of so many campaigns, Al-Zagal betook himself to Guadix, henceforth to be the capital and centre of his restricted and enfeebled sovereignty.

The result of the battle was, in a double sense, unfavorable to the people of Velez, cooped up within the walls of the doomed city. They had seen their hopes of deliverance dashed to pieces in an instant. On one side could be discerned parties of the enemy collecting the weapons cast away by their kinsmen in their nocturnal flight. On the other, saluted by the cheers of thousands, the long train of heavy carts bearing the artillery against which recent experience had demonstrated the strongest defences were of no avail came in view, guarded by a numerous body of cavalry, winding through the mountains for a distance of many leagues. Not until the ordnance was in sight would the inhabitants of Velez credit that the successful transportation of such ponderous masses of iron through the mountains was possible. It was their first experience of invasion. Their warriors had repeatedly carried fire and sword into the territory of the enemy. Their streets had been frequently obstructed with the spoil of the border foray. Their dungeons were even then crowded with Christian captives. The fair complexions of the children in the harems indicated the offspring of many a Sabine wedding. But never, during the long centuries of the Reconquest, had a hostile force been marshalled before their gates, and rarely had the hated banner of the infidel been seen from the summits of their towers. Dispirited by the prospect, absolutely destitute of hope, aware that a stubborn resistance would only render the terms of capitulation more severe, unable alone to cope with a veteran army of seventy thousand men, abundantly provided with every improved appliance known to the science of the age, subject to the strictest discipline and fighting under the eye of its sovereign, the people of Velez, before the batteries had been planted, despatched envoys to negotiate for surrender. Every consideration consistent with the usages of war was shown to the Moors by the politic Spaniards, who desired, by this example of leniency, to provide in the future for the easy prosecution of other conquests. Secure in the possession of their liberty and their personal effects, the Moslems of Velez were permitted to seek homes in Africa or to become the tributary subjects of the crown, on condition of not bearing arms or holding communication with their countrymen at war with the Spanish monarchy. The practice of their religious rites, the use of their language, and the unmolested enjoyment of their customs were solemnly assumed, an obligation which, like many similar ones, eventually vanished before the ingenious casuistry of the Holy Office. Before leaving the camp, the Catholic sovereigns issued an order granting protection to the subjects of Boabdil, allowing them to till their lands, to resume their mercantile pursuits, and to purchase without hindrance in the Spanish kingdoms such commodities as they might require. Proclamation was also made that all towns and cities within the jurisdiction of Al-Zagal which should voluntarily surrender within six months should receive the most ample privileges heretofore conceded to any place that had tendered its submission, and threatening all such as might prove recalcitrant with the direct consequences which the savage customs of the time might either authorize or inflict.

And now the iron hand of Christian power, menacing, resistless, inexorable, whose advance never slackened, whose grasp never relaxed, extended itself towards the beautiful city of Malaga. Celebrated from the highest antiquity for its picturesque surroundings, for its wealth, for the attractions of its women, for the enterprise of its citizens, for the unusual advantages conferred by its situation, which made it the seat of an immense commerce, in the fifteenth century that city divided with Almeria the lucrative trade of the Western Mediterranean. The keen sagacity of the Phœnicians had early recognized its maritime importance. Carthage inherited its dominion, and long maintained there the agencies and the warehouses of her most opulent merchants. Under the Romans it enjoyed the highest prosperity, but it was reserved for the Spanish Arabs to develop to the utmost the mineral and agricultural wealth of its territory, and to extend the commerce of Malaga to the most remote and inaccessible countries of the Orient, to every port whose location or communications promised a profitable return. Its defences were of the strength demanded by the interests of a great international emporium. Walls of extraordinary height and thickness encompassed the entire circuit of the city. Within this line of circumvallation the different quarters and suburbs, in accordance with Moorish custom, were themselves strongly fortified. One of these was inhabited by the Jews, who, always enjoying unusual privileges under the Moslems, had prospered in the congenial atmosphere of Malaga, which fostered their trading instincts and aspirations until their colony had become in number, in wealth, and in distinction second to none of similar character in Europe. The tolerant and enlightened policy of the Moors had assigned to the enterprising Genoese another suburb which was designated by their name. The extensive and varied commercial relations of that republic were thus intimately connected with those of the principal seaport of Granada. Through its portals constantly passed a vast and growing traffic, which bartered the commodities of every country for the silks, the weapons, the jewelry, the gilded pottery, and the delicious fruits of Spain. The great factories of the merchants of the Adriatic, who at that time possessed the larger share of the carrying trade of the world, lined the crowded quays of Malaga, and their flag was always the most conspicuous among the ensigns of the maritime nations whose vessels rode at anchor in the bay. In their private life the Genoese residents of Malaga exhibited a sybaritic luxury which might vie in pomp and elegance with that of royalty itself. Their palaces were of great extent and of surpassing magnificence. Buried in groves of odoriferous trees, brightened by beds of gorgeous flowers, cooled by innumerable rivulets and fountains, they combined all the ingenious devices of the Moorish landscape-gardener with the taste and symmetry of classic Italy. The most exquisite creations of the Arab artificer in tiles and stucco, in gold and silver, in porcelain and in embroidered tapestry, decorated their apartments. Retinues of swarthy, turbaned slaves obsequiously waited to do the bidding of their masters. Mysterious eunuchs glided silently through the splendid halls. Long familiarity with the customs of their voluptuous and infidel neighbors had erased the memory and the reverence associated with the country of their birth, so closely connected with the Holy See, to such an extent that their disregard of ancient traditions and their laxity of faith might not unjustly merit the imputation of heresy. In the homes of many were lovely concubines, some the spoil of marauding expeditions on the Andalusian border, others purchased by their fastidious masters in the distant markets of Africa and the East.

The Atarazana, a great dock-yard and arsenal provided with every facility for the construction and repair of shipping, occupied one side of the harbor. Its portals of polished marble and jasper were formed by horseshoe arches of an elegance that rather suggested the tranquillity of a sacred shrine than the noise and bustle inseparable from an edifice devoted to the purposes of trade and war. Embracing an area of more than eighteen thousand square feet, it was one of the most notable constructions of the kind in the world. While no ships were actually built within its precincts,--these works being carried on at the adjacent mole and quays,--it contained, nevertheless, all the material and equipment necessary for the completion of every kind of craft. Immense quantities of naval supplies and munitions of war were stored in its ample magazines. It was approached by many gates on the sides towards the city and the sea, but the massive wall which protected its western exterior disclosed no opening which might tempt the attack of an alert and daring enemy. The government of the Atarazana was committed to an officer of high rank, whose post was one of great responsibility, as a large portion of the city was at the mercy of its garrison. For the benefit of the thousands of workmen employed there a mosque was provided, from whose minaret, at the hours designated by the Moslem ritual, the muezzin regularly called the faithful to prayer.

The general aspect of the city was strikingly Oriental,--in the narrow and tortuous streets, often covered by awnings to exclude the heat or spanned by arches; in the sombre dwellings whose frowning walls were occasionally broken by narrow, projecting lattices; in the bazaars, each allotted to a special branch of commerce, where transactions involving the expenditure of great sums were concluded in an apartment scarcely exceeding the dimensions of a modern closet; in the mosques, with their glittering minarets; in the baths, with their ever-moving, ever-changing crowds; in the long strings of camels, each one tied to the croup of his leader, laden with every variety of merchandise; in the groups of richly apparelled ladies, escorted by female slaves and scowling eunuchs; in the confusing babel of a thousand tongues, was faithfully reproduced the picturesque life of Cairo, Bagdad, and Damascus. Moorish Malaga was the most cosmopolitan of cities. No restrictions were laid upon her trade, no vexatious or humiliating conditions attached to a residence within her walls. She numbered among her inhabitants natives of every clime. In her markets were exposed for sale the products of the most widely separated countries of the globe. In her port, after the occupation of Almeria, whose mercantile supremacy was never restored, was centred the foreign commerce of Mohammedan Spain. The merchants of Fez and Alexandria, of Bassora and Teheran, mingled in her thoroughfares and markets with representatives of every nation of Christian Europe. The intimate relations of the city with Genoa had more than once called forth the indignant protests of Castile to the Papal Court and the government of Italy. The silk manufacture of Granada, the beauty and excellence of whose stuffs modern skill has never been able to equal, owed its marvellous development to the maritime facilities afforded by Malaga. The weaving of this delicate product, furnished in incredible quantities by the peasantry of the kingdom, was one of the most important branches of industry pursued in the city. The great buildings where it was carried on rivalled in extent the famous establishments of Almeria, once the centre of the silk manufacture in Europe. The superior quality and harmony of colors that characterized the tissues and brocades that came from the hands of the Malagan artificers gave them a peculiar value, and enabled them to readily command extravagant prices in foreign markets.

Not for the fabrication of silks alone was Malaga famous. Her glass and paper, her utensils of iron and copper, the complex and elegant labors of her cabinet-makers and joiners, enjoyed a wide and deserved celebrity. Here also were made the gilded pottery and the stamped and enamelled leather, the knowledge of both which processes completely disappeared with the dominion of the Spanish Arabs.

In the number and profusion of its agricultural products Malaga was excelled by no city in the temperate zone. Its location, like that of Granada, afforded every degree of temperature and every variety of climate. But it possessed in this respect many advantages over the capital. Lying further to the south its air was milder, and its breezes were tempered by its proximity to the sea. The greater volume of moisture in the atmosphere was more favorable to the labors of the cultivator of the soil, and insured greater fertility. Frost was unknown, and the sugar-cane and other exotics grew with a luxuriance almost tropical. The adjacent hills were not then denuded of vegetation, but covered with groves of olives, mulberries, and chestnuts. The elaborate system of hydraulics perfected by the Moors conducted everywhere the sparkling waters of the mountain streams. There was no fruit or vegetable at that time known to horticulture that was not grown in the vicinity. Ibn-Beithar, the most distinguished botanist of the Middle Ages, and who may be said to have been largely instrumental in the foundation of that science, was a native of the city. His knowledge of plants, obtained by years of travel and study in foreign lands, had enriched the flora of his country with many additions useful for their culinary or medicinal properties. Modern medicine owes much to Ibn-Beithar, who was also an eminent physician, for his valuable contributions to the pharmacopœia.

During the Moslem domination the view of Malaga from any point was most enchanting. From Velez to Fuengirola, a distance of more than forty miles, the coast exhibited an unbroken series of fig plantations. Farther back, covering the slopes of the sierra, were groves of oranges and pomegranates. The vineyards were the most extensive, and the grapes the most luscious, of Moorish Spain. Their vintage was of superior excellence, and no small portion of it was consumed by those whose religion condemned the use of wine as an unpardonable sin. The belt of frowning gray walls which enclosed the city was relieved by the palm-trees which at frequent intervals overtopped them. The mountains in the rear were enveloped in a haze of mingled tints of crimson, orange, and violet. On the southern horizon, the sapphire blue of a sky without a cloud blended almost imperceptibly with the deep ultramarine of the sea. Viewed at a distance, the white buildings with their red roofs nestling in a wilderness of verdure whose foliage displayed every tint of green, the harbor dotted with hundreds of snowy sails, the numerous mosques with their elegant towers encrusted with glittering tile-work, the palaces of the noble and the wealthy decorated with all the caprices of Moorish architecture, and each surrounded by spacious and shaded grounds, the boundless profusion of limpid and refreshing waters, bearing fertility to every garden and comfort to every household, the interminable plantations of every fruit that contributes to the sustenance and enjoyment of man, all presented a landscape whose counterpart probably did not exist in the most favored regions of the habitable world. The walls, which enclosed an area almost circular in form, were strengthened by a hundred and twelve towers. Far above the city on an isolated promontory stood the fortress of the Alcazaba, and the Gibralfaro, or citadel. The former was constructed on the slope of the declivity, and, though of great extent and massive defences, was still but an outwork of the Gibralfaro. The position of the latter was such as to bid defiance to any military engines or ordnance at the command of the captains of the fifteenth century. The steep and rugged escarpment of the cliff below it made successful assault impossible. It could not be mined. The angle at which the artillery of a besieging army must be trained was such as to render its fire ineffective. No means could therefore be successfully employed to reduce its garrison except starvation. The water-supply was obtained from numerous cisterns and from a remarkable well a hundred and forty feet in depth. Subterranean passages hewn through the living rock, whose existence was known to but few and which now survive only in well-authenticated tradition, connected the Alcazaba and the Gibralfaro with the city. These two castles were enclosed by walls of unusual height and solidity. No stronghold in Europe during the Middle Ages was better adapted to resist an enemy than the Gibralfaro,--its difficulty of access, its intricate approaches, and the prodigious strength of its fortifications rendering it practically impregnable.

The inhabitants of Malaga, notwithstanding their generally cosmopolitan character, prided themselves upon the purity of their Arab blood. The literary history of the time abounds in accounts of their intelligence, their wit, and their attachment to science and letters. Their charity and benevolence have been celebrated by every Moslem writer who has had occasion to examine their characteristics or to describe their virtues. The desperate and protracted defence they offered the army of Ferdinand is convincing evidence of their bravery and patriotism. But, on the other hand, they were impetuous to a fault, irascible, unrelenting, and treacherous, ever ready to take offence, ever slow to forgive, jealous to an extreme bordering on insanity, and anxious to settle the most trivial dispute by an appeal to arms. Every vice familiar to a prosperous and voluptuous community was practised at Malaga. The drunkenness of its inhabitants was so common as to be proverbial, and the fact that its occurrence aroused so little comment is indicative of the popular indulgence with which a custom abhorrent to the rules of the Koran was regarded. The integrity of the merchants was not beyond suspicion; their reputation was better for shrewdness than for honesty; and the remarkable cheapness of many of the commodities retailed by peddlers is said to have been due to the fact that they were stolen from the markets.

The capture of this great city was a matter of vital importance to the Castilian cause. Not only was it of paramount necessity, but the difficulties attending the project rendered it by no means certain of a favorable termination. An enterprise of such magnitude had never before been attempted by Ferdinand. The great population, its warlike spirit, the facility with which supplies might be introduced by sea, the enormous dimensions of the walls, were all important factors to be considered before the siege was undertaken. On the other hand, there were many conditions favorable to Christian success. Malaga was now practically isolated. The exhausting effects of domestic strife, the apathy and moral cowardice of Boabdil, the recent defeat of his uncle, the depressing influence of the repeated forays which had swept the Vega like a tempest, rendered hopeless any expectation of relief from the territory still under Moorish control. The commercial pursuits of the citizens for the most part rendered them averse to violence, and ready to make almost any sacrifice for the sake of peace. It was certain, however, that a stubborn resistance would be offered. The commandant of the garrison and governor of the city was the intrepid Hamet-al-Zegri, whose resolution and prowess were well known to every soldier in the Spanish army. His troops were largely composed of Gomeres and other African mercenaries, some of them survivors of former campaigns, but the majority new recruits from Mauritania who had succeeded in avoiding the cruisers of the blockading fleet. With such antagonists it was preposterous to indulge the hope of an easy or a bloodless victory. The extraordinary strength of the fortifications, which had hitherto defied attack, imparted to the Moors a plausible but fallacious confidence in their impregnability.

The Spaniards having broken camp at Velez, which was only eighteen miles from Malaga, advanced to a point within two leagues of that city, and the King, desirous of testing the disposition of his adversary, sent an embassy to Hamet-al-Zegri offering advantageous terms of capitulation. The Moslem general haughtily replied that the city had been intrusted to him to defend and not to surrender, and dismissed the royal messengers with scant courtesy. The vessels in which the ordnance and camp equipage had been placed for greater facility of transportation moved in a line parallel with the march of the troops on shore, and, thus advancing with equal speed, both arrived simultaneously at their destination. The approach of the enemy was met with the usual energy of the Moorish commander. The garrison was called to arms; detachments were sent out to occupy the neighboring hills; the highway through which the Christians must pass was ambushed by a force sufficient to impede their progress; and every house beyond the defences, which, through its proximity to them, might furnish shelter, was set on fire. On the side of Velez a path so narrow that the soldiers were compelled to march in single file offered the sole approach to the city; and, in its most rugged part, commanded by eminences on either side, the Moors, with every advantage of numbers, position, and familiarity with the ground, resolutely barred the way. The Christians, ignorant of the difficulties of the march, had suffered themselves to be entangled among the rocks and fairly surrounded before they realized their peril. The contracted passage prevented those in the rear from aiding their comrades; the elevated position of the Moors, who, from the summit of the hills, were enabled to fight with little danger to themselves and had the Christians at their mercy, gave them such superiority that they threatened for a time to seriously check the advance of the entire army. In another locality, below the Gibralfaro, a battle was raging. An attempt to force the Moorish lines and turn the flank of the detachment engaged below was fiercely contested. In the words of the ancient chronicler, the Moslems “fought so desperately that they seemed to have a greater desire to kill the Christians than to save their own lives.” They neither offered nor accepted quarter. The fate of such as fell into their hands was instant death. For six hours, without intermission, the combatants, inflamed with mutual hatred, discarding their missile weapons and relying on their swords, contended with equal spirit and obstinacy,--the Moors with the consciousness that their lives and liberties were at stake; the Castilians, animated by fanatical zeal, and fighting in the presence of their King. At length, after heavy losses, both positions were stormed and taken. The enemy retired, the invading force pursued its way without further molestation, and a thorough blockade of the port was at once established. Malaga, surrounded by a strongly intrenched line of circumvallation, and effectually deprived of all hope of relief, now prepared to face the privations and calamities of a protracted siege.

The permanent character of the blockading camps and the perfect military organization of the Spaniards, marked features of the closing operations of the Reconquest, became more and more conspicuous with the advance of the Christian power. A deep ditch protected the intrenchments, which were fortified by parapets and towers. The soldiers were sheltered by huts. In the rear of the lines were large workshops, where skilled mechanics repaired the cannon and the various engines of war. A gunpowder factory, which gave employment to three hundred men, was erected, and its dangerous product was stored for security in adjacent caves. Hundreds of artisans cast the balls destined for the ponderous lombards. There were twelve of these great pieces, of fourteen-inch calibre, and more than twelve feet long, from which were thrown projectiles weighing five hundred pounds. Such was their clumsy construction that their muzzles could neither be elevated nor depressed, and they could be discharged only eight times a day. A ship-load of stone balls was transported from Algeziras, where they had been fired from the ordnance of Alfonso XI. during the siege of that city, one hundred and forty-three years before. The Spanish army, composed of nearly seventy thousand men, was supported by numerous vessels of every description, many of them armed with guns of medium calibre. When the batteries were mounted, a terrible bombardment of the city began by sea and land. The minarets, the domes, the houses, the towers, crumbled under the incessant cannonade. The city was ablaze in many places from fire-balls shot from the ballistas. The highways and pleasure-grounds were strewed with the dying and the dead. Many of the inhabitants were overwhelmed by the ruins of their fallen dwellings. The martial splendor of the spectacle excited the admiration of the chroniclers who witnessed it. They allude with unconcealed pride to the picturesque beauty of the landscape, soon to be marred by the cruel hand of war; to the formidable entrenchments guarded by many towers, to the fleet encircling the capacious harbor, to the innumerable tents covering the slopes of every hillside and following the winding lines of circumvallation, to the magnificent silken standards displaying the familiar arms of Castile and Leon, or emblazoned with the insignia of the proudest houses of the kingdom. Behind all this pomp was an unflinching energy, a confidence of ultimate success, which awed and discouraged the besieged. The calm deliberation, denoting an absolute tenacity of purpose, which characterized the first steps of the enemy augured ill for the people of Malaga, now cut off from the world.

But, in many respects, they might well be hopeful of a favorable result. Their means of resistance were the most formidable which the Christians had yet encountered. Their citadel had been pronounced by the most competent military engineers to be impregnable. Their provisions were abundant, the munitions of war, stored in their magazines and arsenals, inexhaustible. Their batteries were mounted with cannon but little inferior in weight and equal in range to those of the Spaniards; the artillerists who served them were among the most skilful marksmen of the age. The garrison of the city was numerous and well equipped; the governor, a veteran grown gray in a score of wars. Every circumstance contributed to animate the Moors to a desperate resistance. Should the invader be repelled, it would restore the lost prestige of the Moorish name. Defeat meant the infliction of every injury that could be devised by fanaticism and hatred. It was well known in Malaga that the agents of the Inquisition, while not yet officially recognized, were present with the army, and were treated with marked distinction by the Spanish court. The duplicity of Ferdinand, the blind bigotry of Isabella, although masked by a plausible appearance of candor and equity, had not escaped the observation of the keen-witted Moslems. A vague horror, intensified by past misfortune and by the apprehension of future calamity and associated with that awful tribunal whose atrocities were soon to fill the land with mourning, pervaded every Mussulman community. The possession of these advantages and the anticipation of future evils were sufficient to stimulate the Malagans to the highest exertion of courage and endurance. But unfortunately there existed among them a party largely composed of wealthy merchants to whom every patriotic consideration was subservient to the enjoyment of momentary quiet and safety. It was headed by Ali Dordux, a citizen of immense wealth, distinguished lineage, and unimpeachable integrity. Related to the royal house of Granada, he enjoyed, from this connection, from the consideration attaching to his great possessions, and from the munificence and charity with which he contributed to public enterprises and relieved private misfortune, the highest confidence and respect of his countrymen.

Through his mediation, an attempt had already been made to deliver the city to the Christians, and thereby escape the dreadful consequences of a siege. The commander of the Alcazaba, Ibn-Comixa, had been a party to this transaction, which, discountenanced in the beginning by Hamet-al-Zegri, had afterwards been conducted with secrecy. These proceedings having been communicated to Hamet by spies, he issued from the Gibralfaro with his guards, and put to death the brother of Ibn-Comixa and all others implicated with him in these treasonable designs wherever they could be apprehended. Henceforth absolute master of the city, the terror of his name and the fatal example of those who had rashly endeavored to defy his authority, while they might not entirely prevent, yet would probably render futile, any future negotiations looking to a clandestine and unauthorized capitulation.

The investment of the city had not been accomplished without a constant succession of skirmishes, in which, although the besiegers uniformly had the advantage, they not infrequently sustained serious loss. The Moorish artillerists kept up an incessant fire, and their aim was so accurate that portions of the Christian line were forced back for a distance of several hundred yards before it could be permanently established. Especially were their efforts directed against the royal pavilion, which occupied a conspicuous position, and the plunging balls of the lombards passing in dangerous proximity made it necessary to remove the quarters of the King. As the suburbs of Malaga covered an extensive area, had formerly sheltered a numerous population, and were protected by defences not inferior to those of the city itself, their speedy occupation became a matter of great moment to Ferdinand. While larger, they presented the same general characteristics as similar localities in the neighborhood of other cities of Moorish Spain. An uneven line of massive towers, walls, and barbicans crowned with battlements; a labyrinth of tortuous lanes shaded by hedges of myrtle and laurel; in one quarter the stately villas of the rich, in another the crowded hovels of squalid poverty; orchards of fragrant tropical fruits; pastures where hundreds of cattle might graze in security; mysterious passages, obscured by overhanging vegetation, through which a squadron could burst unseen and unexpected upon an unwary outpost,--such were the features of the environs of Malaga. As much injury had already been suffered from sallying parties which issued from the depths of the dark and silent groves, it was determined that this dangerous ground should be cleared and occupied without delay. A tower of unusual dimensions defending the salient angle of the largest of these enclosures, and which was seen to be the key of the position, was designated as the point of attack. The command of the Count of Cifuentes was selected for this perilous duty. The Castilians rushing forward applied their scaling-ladders, but the enemy, fully prepared, met them with a destructive fire, and, by means of bundles of burning flax steeped in pitch and naphtha, destroyed the ladders and many soldiers who had ventured to ascend them. Through successive arrivals of reinforcements on both sides the engagement began to assume the character of a battle, whose result for a time promised to be indecisive; but after a day and a night of desperate fighting the Christians prevailed, and the Moors, dislodged from the tower, took up a position within the walls. Their cannon in turn now played upon the tower, the upper portion of which was soon destroyed, and, having succeeded in mining the foundations, it was blown up, carrying to death several hundred Spaniards, whose valor in the face of imminent peril had so recently effected its capture. This dearly purchased victory was followed by the occupation of the larger suburb, but not until a considerable force of infantry had been decoyed by Moorish cunning into a maze of crooked lanes, where, bewildered by the surroundings and encompassed by superior numbers, they were mercilessly slaughtered. In the ground still retained by the Moslems the trees were cut down, palisades strengthened by ditches were erected, and thus doubly entrenched the attacks of the subtle and ferocious enemy kept the camp of the besiegers in a condition of continual excitement and alarm. The determined resistance with which the slow advance of the Christians was encountered, causing every foot of territory won to be drenched with blood, the dread of the pestilence, which had already appeared in dangerous proximity to the camp, and the rumor, persistently circulated, that the Queen was urging the abandonment of the siege, began to produce great discontent throughout the Spanish ranks. Aware of this feeling and prompt to take advantage of it, the Moors redoubled their efforts. The guards and patrols were increased. Skirmishes became more frequent and bloody. Boats armed with light pieces of artillery were sent out at night to harass the vessels of the blockading fleet. The garrison was organized into companies, to which was assigned in turn the performance of regular duties of patrol, attack, relief; and discipline was enforced among the usually insubordinate Moslems with an impartiality and a rigor heretofore unknown. All communication with the enemy was forbidden by proclamation, and the very mention of surrender, even among the citizens, incurred the penalty of death. The Moors relied, however, not so much upon their training and resolution as upon the evils which, at all times and especially in that age, were liable to hamper the tedious and laborious operations of a besieging army. The rainy season was approaching, when the mountain streams, swollen to the dimensions of torrents, swept away everything in their course, and the sudden tempests rendered the harbor, always insecure, almost untenable for shipping. The exposure of the camp was certain to induce disease and might invite a visitation of the plague, while the physical disadvantages incident to the situation would probably be magnified by the fears and the discontent of a large body of men subjected to daily inconvenience and condemned to inglorious inaction. A reign of terror had been inaugurated in Malaga by the savage measures adopted by Hamet-al-Zegri, who had executed without examination or warning several prominent citizens whose former conduct had rendered their loyalty suspicious, and, as a result of this severity, to all outward appearances, the inhabitants were at last heartily united in the public defence. An atmosphere of distrust and apprehension, however, enveloped the community; no man dared to publicly address his friend; the denunciation of a prominent personage to the authorities was followed by his immediate execution; and the merchants, whose wealth, influence, and pacific inclinations made them obnoxious to the ferocious soldiery, exposed on the one side to the violence of the garrison, menaced on the other by the prospect of enslavement and of financial and domestic ruin, were driven by their forebodings into the apathy of despair. In order to counteract the feeling of confidence with which the false rumor of the Queen’s disapproval of the siege inspired the enemy, a request was now made urging her to repair to the camp.

The arrival of Isabella was marked by all the pomp of a royal reception, and her presence at the post of danger brought to the front many cavaliers not liable to military service, but actuated by the chivalrous spirit so prominent in the Castilian, and who, in this instance, combined the hope of military distinction with that ardent devotion to the sex always regarded as one of the noblest and most meritorious attributes of knighthood. The occasion seemed an advantageous one for the renewal of negotiations, and fresh overtures were made to the citizens of Malaga, but no reply was vouchsafed to the messengers, and they returned without having obtained an audience with the authorities. Foiled in this attempt and encouraged by the counsels of the Queen, Ferdinand pushed the approaches with increased energy. The entrenchments were moved into the suburbs, and often within a stone’s throw of the walls. An attack was made upon the castle, which resulted in the repulse and wounding of the Marquis of Cadiz. Vessels were sent to Barcelona, Valencia, Lisbon, and Palermo for powder. Hundreds of mechanics were employed in the construction of military engines,--ladders like masts, raised on sliding platforms, mangonels, battering-rams, movable towers, and mantelets. The wood required for this purpose was obtained from the orchards and groves of the vicinity. Mines were secretly opened at four different points, and in each of these hundreds of men labored constantly day and night. The appearance of the Queen, who was accompanied by the dignitaries and ladies of the court, infused fresh courage into the faltering ranks of the disheartened soldiery. The intrepid defence of the Moors had exceeded the anticipation of the Spaniards, who, encouraged by the remembrance of former triumphs, expected a rapid if sharply contested conquest. Instead of this, after three weeks, each day of which was marked by a series of sanguinary combats, no substantial progress had been made. The trifling advantages gained had been purchased at the expense of many lives; the success of the day was certain to be counteracted by the repulse of the morrow; when a wall was demolished, a new line was formed, composed of ditches and palisades, and defended by troops whose tireless efforts and apparently exhaustless resources seemed to bid defiance to every artifice of military experience and engineering skill. The discouraging prospect of the campaign, and the gradual spread of the pestilence in the neighborhood, caused numerous desertions and much consequent demoralization. Some soldiers returned to their homes; others, renouncing the further prosecution of an enterprise which they considered impracticable, sought the insidious friendship and uncertain rewards of the Moslems of Malaga. To insure their welcome, they sedulously magnified the distress of the comrades whom they had thus dishonorably abandoned,--alleging the shortness of rations, the want of powder, the number of deserters, the universal discontent which they declared even the exhortations and promises of the King had failed to appease. The effect of these representations soon became evident. The Moslems, encouraged to continue steadfast, maintained the contest with renewed obstinacy, and the attention of the Christians was occupied in guarding their lines, liable at any moment of the day or night to be broken by an assault from some remote and unexpected quarter. A cloud of smoke hung over the city and the camp, lighted at frequent intervals by the flashes of the cannon whose dull roar was occasionally followed by the crash of falling buildings, the cheers of the artillerists, and the cries of the wounded. The inflexible resolution and inspiring example of Hamet-al-Zegri, whose heroism was so tarnished by remorseless cruelty, sustained the defence of Malaga amidst the most frightful privation and suffering. The difficulty of supporting a great multitude of non-combatants under such circumstances increased day by day. All the provisions that could be found were unceremoniously seized for the benefit of the garrison. Whenever it was ascertained that some unfortunate citizen had secreted food for the maintenance of his family, all of the inmates of the house were at once put to the sword. The Jews, the especial objects of official tyranny, were inhumanly and maliciously deprived of the necessities of life, and the poorest and most helpless of this persecuted race perished by hundreds of starvation. In the extremity of famine the most loathsome and innutritious substances were eagerly devoured. Not an animal of any kind was left alive in the city; and many persons reared in abundance and luxury were forced to blunt the pangs of hunger with the leather of saddles, the stalks of cabbage, and the leaves of trees long since stripped of their fruit and blossoms. Rendered desperate by distress and by the enforced military duty for which they had been impressed by the governor, who took a grim satisfaction in assigning to the most perilous stations those who had least experience in the operations of war, a number of merchants, including Ali Dordux, again opened communications with the enemy. Their designs miscarried, for their messenger while returning from the Spanish camp was intercepted by a patrol, and, in trying to escape, fell pierced with a cross-bow bolt.

The extremity of their countrymen who so resolutely held their ground against the united resources of Castile and Aragon excited the compassion and applause of every patriotic Moslem in the kingdom. There were many in the capital who would have gladly volunteered to go to their assistance, but the known hostility of Boabdil repressed the public exhibition of the general feeling. With the sanction of Al-Zagal a band of picked warriors set out from Guadix to endeavor to cut their way into Malaga. Information of the expedition was communicated to Boabdil by spies, and an ambush was planned for the party by a squadron of Moorish cavalry from Granada. The unfortunate adventurers, unsuspicious of treachery, were surprised on the march, and less than half of them succeeded in escaping to Guadix. For this infamous service, so thoroughly in keeping with his character, Boabdil received the congratulations of the politic Ferdinand, who viewed with inward complacency the effects of the fatal policy of his enemies who were unconsciously fighting his battles, and were destined eventually to realize the futility of their efforts to maintain even a tributary existence in the face of adversaries prepared to renounce every consideration of honor and justice, to violate every covenant, to repudiate every suggestion of humanity and pity, in the final accomplishment of an object, pursued with unshaken tenacity, through the vicissitudes, the triumphs, and the reverses of twenty-five generations.

Despite the fact that famine threatened the garrison and was already decimating the non-combatants, the Moors never relaxed their efforts. Great trenches were excavated outside the walls at points where the cannon had effected breaches. The mines opened by the besiegers had in many instances reached the fortifications, when they were detected, countermined, and rendered worthless. One of them was blown up and destroyed after a bloody subterranean combat. This success was not obtained without the greatest difficulty, and only after six days of incessant fighting. Little by little every prospect of relief was removed from the minds of the despairing garrison. The Emir of Tlemcen, whose coast was constantly patrolled by armed galleys, and who recognized the hopelessness of the struggle, sent an embassy to the Catholic sovereigns, soliciting their friendship and imploring that the commercial restrictions imposed upon his subjects by the maintenance of the blockade might be removed. Magnificent presents of horses, trappings, and garments, silks, gold, and perfumes accompanied his request. The offer was graciously accepted; the naval commanders were instructed to treat their new allies with due consideration; but at the same time a vigilant watch was kept up to prevent any supplies of men or provisions from being clandestinely introduced into the devoted city. The sympathy of the Moslems throughout the kingdom, awakened by the heroism of the Malagans, increasing with the duration of the siege, found expression not only in lamentations, but in the execration of Boabdil, whose agency was recognized as principally responsible for the sufferings of his valiant countrymen.

In the mountains of Guadix there lived a certain Ibrahim-al-Guerbi, a santon, or hermit of African origin, whose uncouth appearance, emaciated form, and reputed sanctity had obtained for him the superstitious veneration with which the ignorant are accustomed to invest those whose lives are passed in localities apart from the abodes of men, and whose extravagant claims to superior holiness are supposed to be confirmed by habitual austerity and the frenzy born of incessant meditation and long-continued abstinence. His progress through the streets of Guadix was always attended by an immense multitude of admirers, who, regarding him as inspired and in frequent communication with the Prophet, listened to his ravings with a reverence equal to that with which they would have received a command of God. Calling the people together, this fanatic proclaimed in the market-place of the city that Allah, moved by the wretchedness of his faithful worshippers, had decreed that Malaga should be delivered from her extremity, and that he himself had been appointed as the instrument to carry the divine will into execution. The credulous populace heard this announcement with boundless enthusiasm; at the call for volunteers a great number of soldiers and citizens responded; and from these the santon selected a band of four hundred, most of them Africans, and all ready to sacrifice their lives in any desperate undertaking which might bring them glory on earth or secure their entrance into Paradise. Leaving the city secretly, the party, avoiding the frequented roads, hastened through the mountain wilds to Malaga. In the early morning they made a sudden charge on the Spanish lines near the sea; two hundred succeeded in cutting their way into the city, and the others remained dead or captive in front of the intrenchments. During the attack the santon withdrew to a retired spot near at hand, where, on his knees and with uplifted face and hands, he assumed an attitude of devotion. Discovered by the patrol, he maintained a dogged silence until taken before the Marquis of Cadiz, to whom he announced his calling and declared his ability to foretell coming events through revelations from the Almighty. The Marquis, who like all of his countrymen was not a little superstitious and disposed to give credit to the pretension of a religious charlatan even if he came in the guise of an enemy, asked if he knew when and how the city would be taken. The santon answered in the affirmative, but declared that he would only impart this information to the King and Queen, unattended and in secret. Thereupon the Marquis inquired the pleasure of the sovereigns, who ordered the Moor to be brought before them; and, in the same condition in which he was captured, clothed with a ragged cloak, and armed with a short but heavy scimetar, he was at once conducted to the royal pavilion. Fortunately Ferdinand was asleep and Isabella employed in some feminine occupation when the guard arrived with the santon, who was taken into an adjoining tent, where Don Alvaro of Portugal, of the royal House of Braganza, and Doña Beatrice de Bobadilla, Marchioness of Moya, the intimate friend of the Queen, were engaged in a game of chess. The Moor, to whom the persons of the Catholic sovereigns were unknown, supposing, as a matter of course, that the couple before him, whose splendid apparel denoted personages of the highest distinction, were the objects of his nefarious design, drew his scimetar and inflicted a dangerous wound on Don Alvaro. He then aimed several blows at the Marchioness, who had fallen to the ground in terror, but his weapon striking the canvas of the tent each time he raised it disconcerted his aim, and his intended victim escaped injury. The savage fanatic was instantly killed by the soldiers, and his mutilated remains cast over the walls from a catapult. Collected reverently by the Moslems, they were sewed together, dressed in silken robes, and, after being sprinkled with the costliest perfumes, were buried with all the honors due to a martyr who had sacrificed his life in a bold if a reprehensible and fruitless attempt to render a service to his country. In reprisal, a Galician captive of rank was killed and tied upon an ass, which was driven into the Christian lines, an act as impolitic as cruel, for it only served to further exasperate the besiegers, already rendered sufficiently implacable by their losses, their hardships, and the unexpected severity of the labors imposed upon them by the desperate resistance of the enemy.

While famine and suffering daily increased within the walls of Malaga, the condition of the Spaniards, for a time discouraging, was now steadily improving. Many nobles from Valencia and Catalonia, desirous of serving under their monarchs and provided with substantial aid in men and money, repaired to the camp. The Duke of Medina-Sidonia, with his son and a great following of retainers, brought the influence of his name and presence and, what was even more acceptable, the tender of twenty thousand doubloons of gold. By these means the army, originally consisting of seventy thousand men, was considerably augmented. The magazines were replenished. Vast heaps of grain were tantalizingly exposed to the view of the starving Moslems. New recruits were enlisted. Great stores of ammunition were collected, and the increased enthusiasm and renewed fury of the assaults apprised the besieged that only some crushing reverse could overcome the inflexible determination of their foes.

Scarcely a day now passed that a number of the citizens of Malaga did not enter the Christian camp, forfeiting their liberty to escape death by starvation. Reduced to skeletons and staggering with weakness, they devoured with the ravenous appetite of famine the food that was given them, exciting by their deplorable condition the compassion even of their unfeeling conquerors. The accounts they gave of the straits to which their brethren were reduced convinced the Spaniards that the struggle could not much longer be maintained. The streets were covered with decomposing corpses. Those wounded in battle and the perishing victims of hunger lay side by side, both helpless and uncared for. The terrible Gomeres, restricted to quarter-rations, and rendered still more savage by suffering and by daily familiarity with carnage, stalked unquestioned through every house, enforcing their demands for food with threats whose bloody significance the slightest inattention was quick to realize. Most pitiable was the state of the women and children, many of them left unprotected by the fortune of war, without the means of sustaining life, exposed to hourly danger, oppressed by the sad remembrance of their losses, with no prospect save death or the even more unhappy one of perpetual servitude. The Castilians listened to these statements with incredulity, for it seemed impossible that under such trials the spirit of the Moslems could remain unbroken and undismayed. The assaults on the trenches continued. The ships of the fleet were attacked and some of them destroyed. The hopes of the besieged were sustained by the assurances of ultimate victory proclaimed by another fanatic, who, in spite of the failure of his predecessor, found it easy to obtain among his credulous countrymen implicit belief in his extravagant promises. Under his advice, six strong battalions attacked simultaneously the Spanish intrenchments held by the commands of the Grand Masters of Alcantara and Santiago. The Christians, although habitually on their guard, were surprised and driven back; but the success of the Moslems was but temporary; a determined effort sufficed to repulse them, and after losing many men they retired in disorder.

This engagement was the crisis of the siege. The garrison was no longer able to man the fortifications, fast crumbling under the enemy’s guns. Of five thousand picked men that originally composed it, three-fifths had been killed and wounded, and the remainder were greatly weakened by disease and privation. The lamentations of the starving, and the remonstrances of those citizens whose personal interests had always inclined them to peace, now became too importunate to longer remain unheeded. The indomitable Hamet-al-Zegri and his guards sullenly betook themselves to the Gibralfaro. Five prominent merchants, empowered by the people to sue for peace, were sent to the head-quarters of the King. Their proposal to yield on substantially the same terms which had been granted other conquered cities was rejected with haughty disdain, and they were informed that nothing short of an agreement involving the unconditional surrender of their persons and property would be entertained. In despair the envoys returned; the citizens consented to abandon everything provided their liberty was assured; and, if this should still be denied, they threatened to hang from the battlements every Christian captive in their power, and, having placed the women and children in the Alcazaba, to set fire to the city, and then, sallying forth, sell their lives dearly in battle with their unrelenting foes. To this menace Ferdinand replied that if a single captive was killed he would put every Moor in Malaga to death, and that no other terms would be given except those already communicated to their messengers. The desperate circumstances of the besieged allowed them no alternative but absolute submission to the will of the conqueror, and after much altercation they signified their consent to surrender without conditions. Hostages were given to secure their fidelity; the victorious army marched into the city; all of the inhabitants were compelled to assemble in the Alcazaba, there to await the pleasure of the King; the brave Hamet-al-Zegri was placed in irons and sold in the slave-market of Carmona; the Christian deserters, whose information had been instrumental in confirming the obstinacy of the Moors, were put to death by torture; the streets were cleansed of impurities; and in the great mosque, consecrated to Christianity amidst the imposing forms of the Catholic ritual, mass was said in gratitude for the prosperous event of an enterprise which, in difficulty, in duration, and in the intrepidity and fertility of resource exhibited by the enemy, was without parallel in the history of the Reconquest. Five hundred captives, whose survival proved that they had been better cared for than many of their masters, came in solemn procession to return thanks for their deliverance. Not a few of them, who had long abandoned all hope of liberty, had been enslaved for twenty years. Many villages near Malaga were occupied by the Spanish troops, and their inhabitants were confined with their countrymen for future disposition in the spacious enclosure of the citadel.

In deciding the fate of the people of Malaga, the remarkable constancy and heroism which they had displayed in defence of their homes--qualities that must have awakened the admiration and respect of every mind susceptible to the sentiments of generosity and pity--were not taken into consideration by Ferdinand and Isabella, except to the prejudice of the victims. In accordance with mediæval custom the vanquished were absolutely at the mercy of the conquerors. By a refinement of political casuistry they were also branded as rebels. The grounds for this accusation are now difficult to determine. The Moslems of Malaga were, and always had been, the subjects of Al-Zagal, the uncompromising enemy of the Christians, and, by the most ingenious and far-fetched application of Castilian law or feudal practice, could never have been included among the dependents or tributaries of the Spanish Crown. It is probable that the claim may have been founded on the suzerainty exercised by former kings, and acknowledged by the princes of Granada as a political necessity, but never conceded as an inalienable right. Exasperation caused by prolonged resistance, and the conviction that a severe example might deter other cities from opposing the march of Spanish sovereignty, induced certain persons attached to the court and army, concerning whose names history is silent, to urge with vehemence an indiscriminate massacre of the prisoners,--a proposal which, fortunately for the reputation of the victors, through considerations of public expediency, if not from sentiments of humanity, they were induced to reject. The royal decree, published by sound of trumpet, condemned every Moor to slavery for life. The severity of this sentence was, however, modified by a provision which, while it apparently held out a prospect of relief, yet, so far from abating its rigor, was in fact designed to intensify it by the infliction of bitter disappointment. Malaga was one of the most opulent cities of the Mediterranean. Her merchants had amassed great fortunes by commerce, and their personal property, so valuable and so likely to be concealed in the face of endless servitude, was a prize not to be lightly relinquished by Spanish rapacity. The priceless jewels worn by the Moorish women in rich and barbaric profusion were famous throughout Granada, and reports of their value and beauty had spread to the Castilian court. Rumors were already in circulation that the most of these treasures had disappeared. The crafty dissimulation of the Christian sovereigns readily devised an expedient to recover this wealth. By royal proclamation it was announced that the entire number of Moors could be delivered from slavery on the payment within eight months of a sum amounting to thirty doubloons of gold for each man, woman, and child. This, however, was only applicable collectively. No individual could offer a separate ransom; and no death within the allotted time was to be taken into consideration,--all were to be redeemed alike and together, whether living or dead. It was an indispensable condition of this extraordinary grant of indulgence that the entire personal property of the people of Malaga should be at once transferred to the officers of the treasury, to be credited on account. The Moors, without calculating the enormous sum required to ransom such a multitude or reflecting upon the numerous pretexts by which an agreement made with a perfidious conqueror might be repudiated, eagerly grasped at the tempting but fallacious prospect of freedom.

As the entire number of the citizens and garrison was not far from eleven thousand, it required three hundred and thirty thousand doubloons, equal to twenty-one million one hundred and twenty thousand dollars at the present estimate of values, to effect their deliverance. Every encouragement was at once extended the captives to unearth their hidden treasures. Conducted to their houses, they brought forth from the depths of wells and cisterns, from excavations in the gardens, from concealed vaults and secret receptacles, from fountains and walled-up niches, gold and silver ornaments, jewels, coin, and plate, and every conceivable species of portable riches. A list of all the owners was made, together with an inventory and appraisement of their property, which we may rest assured was not valued at an extravagant figure. History does not inform us of the amount secured or of the deficit. As the ransom of a captive is one of the most meritorious acts of a Moslem, and one explicitly enjoined by his religion, the Malagans expected that their fellow-sectaries would readily contribute the remaining sum required for their liberty. In this they were sadly disappointed; the subjects of Boabdil refused to compromise themselves by assisting the enemies of Ferdinand, and by order of their king the letters and petitions were intercepted and sent to the Spanish court. The partisans of Al-Zagal, impoverished through contributions demanded by the exigencies of war and disheartened by defeat, were unable to respond to the pressing importunities of their brethren, harassed by the memory of recent distress and menaced by the most deplorable of human calamities. The charity of the Moslems hence fell far short of the demands which the necessities of their countrymen exacted. Although even the inhabitants of Morocco and Tlemcen--whom recently established relations with the Spanish Crown may have unfavorably influenced--were appealed to, it was found impossible to collect the required amount.

The Moorish prisoners were divided into three classes,--one destined to be exchanged for Christians detained in captivity in Africa; the second to be distributed as spoil among the most eminent personages in the army according to rank or merit; and the third to be sold at auction for the benefit of the treasury, to partially defray the expenses of the siege. As an acknowledgment of the aid his endorsement had afforded a war waged in the name of religion, and to get rid of captives whose reputation and character indicated they might prove troublesome, a hundred of the most ferocious Gomeres were presented to the Pope. Fifty of the most comely Moslem damsels were given to the Queen of Naples. Thirty others became the slaves of the Queen of Portugal. Isabella also distributed a large number of these attractive maidens among the ladies of the court, and several of them were retained for her own service in the palace.

Those prominent citizens who had vainly attempted at different times to procure the surrender of Malaga were suffered to retain their property and enjoy their freedom in the condition of tributaries. Ali-Dordux as a recompense for his peculiar services received twenty houses, with many valuable lands and villas, and was appointed alcalde of the Mudejares. The surviving Jews of the city, amounting in all to four hundred and fifty persons, the majority of them women, were ransomed by Abraham Señor, a rich Hebrew, collector for the royal treasury of the Jewish tribute of Castile. Their chattels were received and accounted for in part payment of their ransom, which was twenty thousand doubloons of gold.

Thus ends the mournful story of the capture of Malaga. No similar event in history exhibits in a more striking manner the heroism of the conquered and the perfidy and malevolence of the conquerors. Human valor and self-sacrifice under the most discouraging circumstances could not accomplish more than was effected by the Moslems. No greater disregard for those virtues which appeal most strongly to the human heart--loyalty, patriotism, intrepidity, firmness--or for those sufferings which arouse the chivalrous sympathy of the brave could be shown than was displayed by the triumphant Christians. The honorable terms ever accorded by a magnanimous victor to a courageous but unfortunate foe were insolently refused. The enslavement of an entire community, while not repugnant to the barbarous customs of mediæval warfare, was unusual, and was certainly unmerited by those whose only crime was a resolute defence of home and country. The infamy of the scheme through which they were deluded by false hopes of deliverance from servitude, and, at the same time, despoiled of their possessions, is deserving of the severest reprobation. It was well known to Ferdinand, who fixed the amount and whose influence was no doubt employed in counteracting the efforts of the emissaries of the captives, that the exorbitant ransom could never be paid. Even if the obligation had been discharged, there is little doubt, in view of the subsequent course pursued by the Spanish Crown in similar transactions, that the result would have been the same. The spirit which did not reject with indignation, but could calmly discuss, the deliberate massacre of eleven thousand defenceless persons as a matter of public convenience, would hardly refuse to repudiate a contract when its violation was sanctioned by the plausible and popular suggestions of sacerdotal casuistry. The part taken by the Queen in this disreputable transaction, more characteristic of the arts of a pettifogger than of the justice of a high-minded sovereign, is incapable of excuse or palliation even by the artifices of the most fulsome apologist. Her responsibility was equal to that of her husband. She was fully cognizant of the entire negotiation. A single word from her would have arrested it, but that word was not spoken. Unfortunately for her fame, on this as on many other occasions, she seems to have sacrificed the noblest attributes of her sex to considerations of momentary advantage and spurious morality at the dictation of malignant and intriguing ecclesiastics, whose power as keepers of the royal conscience and whose insidious counsels had already begun to exert a marked and most pernicious influence on the policy of the crown.

In the midst of their reverses the infuriated temper of the Moors of the capital and the consequent insecurity of the throne of Boabdil had become daily more apparent. His frantic appeals for assistance were answered by the despatch of Gonsalvo de Cordova with three thousand men, whose presence awed the malcontents and confirmed for a time the falling power of a monarch whose selfish and short-sighted measures continued to afford the most substantial aid to the enemies of his country. As a recompense for his invaluable services, the subjects of Boabdil passed their lives in comparative peace; their labors were uninterrupted; their harvests ripened and were gathered in security; and their merchants, transporting their wares beyond the frontier, carried on a profitable trade with the cities of Andalusia and Castile. The boundaries of the royal vassal’s domain, constantly growing more narrow through the vicissitudes of revolution, the encroachments of perfidious allies, and the ravages of war, could now be discerned from the battlements of the Alhambra. His name, loaded with the most insulting epithets, was openly cursed in the streets. By a cruel stratagem, worthy of his Christian patron, he suppressed a spirit of rebellion which daily threatened a serious outbreak. Five of the most influential agitators were invited to a conference in the palace. Relying upon the royal word and unsuspicious of treachery they repaired to the Alhambra. Seized and manacled, they were at once delivered to an equal number of executioners, decapitated, and their heads, fixed on pikes, were borne through the city, preceded by a crier, as a suggestive warning to the disaffected. To such atrocious methods was this petty tyrant compelled to resort in order to maintain the existence of his uncertain and tottering authority. While they were temporarily successful, they in fact still further weakened a power based exclusively upon fear. All persons of wealth and consequence who could do so secretly departed from the capital, and the populace, suppressing the grief and indignation they felt on account of the execution of their leaders, awaited impatiently the moment of vengeance. On the other hand, the tireless and impetuous Al-Zagal, taking advantage of the opportunity afforded by the retirement of the Christians, carried ruin and dismay beyond the frontier. The garrison of Nijar was massacred. Cullar was taken and burnt. From Almeria and the towns of its jurisdiction predatory expeditions swept the fertile valleys of Murcia. In the Serrania of Ronda and the Sierra Bermeja the mountaineers revolted, visited with their destructive forays the plains of Andalusia, and repulsed an attack of the Marquis of Cadiz, whose operations were soon afterwards suspended on account of a succession of tornadoes and earthquakes.

Meanwhile, the Spanish King had not been idle. Entering the dominions of Al-Zagal from the side of Murcia,--a territory hitherto remote from the seat of war and consequently exempt from its ravages,--he had brought into subjection a large and important region, together with the towns of Vera, Cuevas, Huescar, and many others, which, at the appearance of the army, surrendered without resistance. Encouraged by his success, he next appeared before Almeria. Unfortunately for his plans, concerted with Moslem traitors in the city who had arranged to betray their trust to the Christians, Al-Zagal had learned of this design, had foiled it with his usual energy, and at that moment the heads of the conspirators were fixed on the battlements of the castle. The force of the Moorish King, which numbered twenty-one thousand, attacked the advance guard of the enemy with irresistible fury, defeated it, and compelled the whole army to retreat. Ferdinand retired towards Baza, closely followed by Al-Zagal. Near that city the Moslem veteran placed an ambush, into which he had no difficulty in decoying the Spaniards. The advance guard was again routed, this time with serious loss, and it required all the efforts of the King and his ablest captains to save the army from destruction. Among the dead was Don Philip of Aragon, nephew of Ferdinand, and many other distinguished officers. The march of the Christians was severely harassed by the enemy’s cavalry as far as the river Guadalquiton, a distance of twenty miles.

In the month of May, 1489, Ferdinand once more invaded the Moorish kingdom with the design of besieging Baza. His plans were well known to Al-Zagal months before they were put into execution, and every possible expedient was employed to counteract them. The entire country was scoured for provisions. The magazines of the city were filled with grain. Its arsenal was stocked with weapons. A stirring appeal from their sovereign summoned to the defence of Baza the veterans of many a hard-fought field, bold mountaineers of the Alpujarras, desperate adventurers who had lost home and kindred by the casualties of war, and hundreds of the gallant cavaliers of Granada, who, weary of inaction, disgusted with their prince, and dreading the imputation of cowardice, were eager to once more draw their swords in the cause of their country and their religion.

The command of Baza was intrusted to Sidi Yahya, one of the ablest and most conspicuous examples of Moslem chivalry produced by the wars of the Reconquest. Of royal lineage and distinguished connections,--for he was at once the nephew and the brother-in-law of Al-Zagal as well as the hereditary prince of Almeria,--he had early exhibited talents for war and diplomacy far beyond his years. A division of ten thousand cavalry organized, equipped, and disciplined by him had attained the highest state of efficiency possible in the rapid evolutions and crafty stratagems which constituted the favorite tactics of Arab warfare. In addition to this force, which in perfection of organization and drill had no equal in the Moorish or Christian armies, Sidi Yahya had at his disposal an equal number of well-armed troops, commanded by experienced generals who had seen service under Al-Zagal and Muley Hassan. The garrison of Baza consisted of ten thousand men, most of them selected for their valor and fidelity from the flower of the Moorish army, and the rest, animated by the memory of past injuries and eager for retaliation, made up in ferocity what they lacked in experience and discipline. In the arrangements for defence everything had been taken into consideration which could either annoy an enemy or deprive him of even the slightest advantage. The suburbs, by which Baza in common with most Andalusian cities was surrounded, were evacuated. The ripened crops were gathered and transported inside the walls. The trees were stripped of their fruits. New passages were opened in the suburban labyrinth of lanes and alleys to facilitate the movements of the garrison and perplex the enemy, who, under similar circumstances, had more than once encountered disaster. The well-fortified city of Baza was of high antiquity, and had been a place of importance even under the Carthaginian domination. It occupied the slope of a lofty hill forming a spur of the sierra, was surrounded by walls of great solidity, and defended by a castle of remarkable strength. Its environs were occupied by groves and gardens, intersected by pathways arched with verdure and bordered by hedges. A fertile valley thirty-two miles long by twelve in width, irrigated by canals, and producing a succession of harvests, displayed at every point evidences of the highest degree of industry. Amidst its luxuriant plantations appeared the white walls of numerous palaces and country-seats, inhabited or frequented by the prominent residents of the city. From the ramparts of the castle more than a thousand towers, distributed over the valley, could be counted, places of refuge for the shepherd and the laborer in case of a sudden alarm or a hostile inroad. The orchards extended more than a mile from the walls of the suburbs, which, constructed rather for enclosure than protection, were low, and composed of rough stones put together with mud and lime.

Arrived before Baza, the great army of the Christians attempted to penetrate the orchards and intrench itself near their inner border. Conscious of the importance of preventing this movement, the garrison issued from the city in force, and a hand-to-hand battle began. Perfectly familiar with the locality, and able to thread at will the maze of intersecting paths darkened by overhanging foliage, fighting on foot against horsemen encumbered with heavy weapons and armor, and more accustomed to such encounters than their adversaries, the Moors readily obtained the advantage. Each tower and house sent forth a stream of deadly missiles. Every hedge concealed a body of enemies ready to fall upon the rear of an advancing column. The confined and perplexing nature of the ground made it impossible to maintain the line of battle, to obey the word of command, and often, amidst the smoke and confusion, to distinguish friend from foe. The result of the struggle was therefore largely dependent on the efforts of individual courage. Each soldier sought an antagonist, and the savage combat terminated only with the death of an enemy. The shady arcades of the forest rang with the reports of musketry, the shouts of the combatants, and the clash of steel upon steel. To add to the horrors of the scene, some towers which had been taken by the Christians, and others, still held by the Moors, were set on fire, and the shrieks of the tortured wretches who occupied them and whose escape was cut off rose high above the din of battle. Many prudent Spanish officers, recognizing the disadvantages under which they labored and apprehensive of a disastrous result, endeavored to withdraw their commands; but, utterly bewildered, and unable to ascertain the direction of the camp, they were forced to participate, against their will, in the dangers of the unequal and uncertain contest. It raged with fury for twelve long hours; the press of reinforcements hindered the retirement of those in the front of the lines, and many unhurt fell from sheer exhaustion. At length, as night was approaching, the superior endurance of the Christians prevailed, and the Moslems, oppressed with fatigue but still undaunted, withdrew to a palisade in the centre of the orchards, leaving to their opponents the doubtful advantage of a bloody and barren victory.

After a short respite, the Moors, under cover of the darkness and aided by the dense foliage which the Spaniards in the obscurity dared not attempt to penetrate, resumed the fight; and until dawn the entire force remained under arms, exposed to a galling fire of balls and arrows discharged at easy range, which they were powerless to check and unable to answer.

With the morning light appeared a scene of desolation where but the day before had been displayed a picture of serenity and peace. The elegant villas had been transformed into shapeless heaps of ashes. Over the ground, trampled like a highway by the feet of thousands, were strewn the melancholy proofs of the obstinacy with which the contest had been waged,--broken weapons, dinted armor, tattered banners, blood-stained garments, and hundreds of bodies distorted by the frightful agonies of death. The grass and the flowers, which so recently presented a pleasing contrast of many colors, had now assumed a uniform, crimson hue. The air was still murky with the smoke of battle, which, absorbed by the mist, the rays of the sun were slow to dissipate. When the Spaniards had collected their wounded and buried their dead their heavy loss was disclosed; and it became apparent that the present position, taken in violation of every consideration of prudence, was untenable. Convinced of his error, Ferdinand at once ordered the camp to be removed to the plain, and, under a continuous fire, the soldiers retired from the spot where the enterprise of its commanders had met with such an inauspicious beginning. A council of war was then held to determine the course to be adopted. A large preponderance of votes favored the abandonment of the undertaking. In his perplexity, Ferdinand, as was his custom in all important emergencies, solicited the opinion of the Queen. Isabella, whose martial spirit and vigorous understanding were averse to countenancing even an appearance of indecision or cowardice, while leaving the determination of the question to the army, plainly indicated her desire that the siege should be prosecuted. Her answer was received with acclamations; the misgivings of the wavering were removed by the confidence of success which now pervaded the camp; and the city, soon invested on all sides, excepting that of the sierra, began to realize that its deliverance, if achieved at all, could only be secured after a severe and protracted struggle. The immense extent of the lines which required to be guarded exceeded the capacity and exhausted the power of even ninety-five thousand men. In order to deprive the Moors of one of their most valuable means of defence, the order was issued to cut down the orchards. This proceeding, of itself one of extreme difficulty, was rendered doubly hazardous by the enemy, who exhausted every resource to prevent its accomplishment. An advance guard of seven thousand men protected those detailed for the work of destruction. The number and size of the trees were so great that the axemen could scarcely advance ten paces in as many hours; and it required the incessant labor of four thousand men forty days to complete the stupendous task. The possession of every foot of ground was stubbornly contested; and, besides the desultory attacks of skirmishers, twice every day the Moors charged the slowly advancing line at several different points, confusing the workmen with their cries, and taxing to the utmost the energy and the resolution of those appointed to defend them. When, finally, every tree had been removed, the line of circumvallation was established. A ditch, protected by palisades, was excavated on the sides towards the valley, and strengthened by fifteen castles built of stone, which were distributed at intervals of three hundred paces along the intrenchments. On the declivity of the sierra a double wall was constructed, so that an attack from any quarter might be repelled. The entire circuit of the fortified line was upward of twelve miles. Thus completely surrounded, the activity of the besieged, hitherto incessant and dangerous, was effectually restrained. An attempt to cut off the water-supply of the city, which was obtained from a spring at the foot of the mountain, was frustrated by the prudent diligence of the Moslems.

The monotonous course of the siege dragged wearily on, broken occasionally by some gallant exploit or by some encounter marked by the courtesy whose practice was inculcated by the chivalrous rules of the tilt and the tournament. A foray to the gates of Guadix, undertaken by that daring cavalier, Hernan Perez del Pulgar, whose intrepid and often foolhardy achievements contribute so much to the romantic interest attaching to the history of the War of Granada, resulted in the defeat of a squadron of Moorish cavalry and the seizure of a considerable number of cattle. The responsibility of the entire expedition devolved on Pulgar, whose courage at a critical moment saved the day and prevented the rout and capture of the entire detachment. As rumors of the peril of Baza spread through the remaining provinces of the kingdom, the Moors, aware that the fall of that city would involve their own destruction, were everywhere overcome with indignation and terror. An attempt to elude the vigilance of the besiegers and introduce provisions and troops into the town met with signal failure. Even in the capital, the selfish interests of the mercantile community could no longer withstand the reproaches of the people, who viewed with feverish apprehension the prospect of the dissolution of their monarchy and the extinction of their religion. Their seditious murmurs, which did not hesitate to suggest the assassination of a treacherous king, reached the Alhambra; the emissaries of Boabdil readily ascertained the identity of the leaders; they were apprehended and beheaded; and this summary exhibition of severity awed the indiscreet populace, which seemed never able to learn that the first and most indispensable requisite of successful insurrection is secrecy. Unable to grasp or appreciate the significance of the events transpiring around him, unsuspicious or careless of the part he was taking in the undermining of his dynasty, Boabdil remained in inglorious retirement amidst the voluptuous delights of that palace from whose enchanting precincts he was erelong to be expelled under every circumstance of obloquy and shame. By his orders, the guaranty of security and the promise of additional favors from Ferdinand and Isabella to all who acknowledged his authority were proclaimed in every market-place throughout his jurisdiction. Insensible to disgrace, he accepted each month from the Spanish Court the stipend which confirmed his subservient infamy; and, in return for this degrading compensation, he subverted every attempt to repel the invaders of his country, and diligently suppressed at its inception each demonstration in favor of national integrity and independence.

In their despair, the Spanish Moslems now resorted to a strange expedient. Distracted by their misfortunes, which seemed but the prelude to greater calamities, and without friends or allies, they turned in their distress to the Sultan of Turkey, a potentate who, not only for his eminence as a Mussulman ruler, but also as Commander of the Faithful, the religious representative of the Prophet, was entitled to the reverence, as he was intrusted with the protection, of the various nations of the Mohammedan world. In pathetic terms they represented the evils to which they had for centuries been subjected by Christian encroachment, their inability to longer resist the progress of conquest, the sacrifices and losses they had been compelled to endure, the enslavement of their brethren, and the difficulties which their ultimate subjection must inevitably impose upon the existence and perpetuation of the Moslem faith. Moved by the piteous supplication of his fellow-sectaries, Bajazet II. despatched two Franciscan friars to Rome, to threaten the Pope with retaliation upon the Christians in his dominions--who under Turkish rule enjoyed the utmost liberty of thought and action--unless he used his power to restrain his Catholic dependents in Spain. His Holiness sent the envoys of the Sultan to the Spanish Court bearing a letter from himself, which simply recounted the facts, but prudently omitted any recommendations. The answer of Ferdinand and Isabella was both ingenious and plausible. They claimed, not unjustly, the entire Peninsula by right of inheritance; an inheritance usurped by the ancestors of those who now laid claim to territory about to be lost in the same manner in which it was acquired; they declared that their title to this empire had never been renounced or forfeited, but had been constantly asserted through seven centuries of warfare; and that under their dominion all infidel tributaries enjoyed privileges equal to those conferred upon Christians in any Mohammedan community in the world. In order to gain the favor of the Mussulman monarch, Ferdinand promised to assist him with men and ships in the war which he was then waging against the Emir of Egypt. The Catholic sovereigns seem to have had the best of the argument, for nothing further is related of the controversy; and the Sultan interfered no more in the affairs of the Peninsula, but left the unfortunate votaries of Islam to their fate.

As the nature of the country through which Baza was approached made the transportation of heavy artillery extremely difficult, it was deemed preferable to reduce the city by blockade. All supplies were necessarily conveyed by pack-train, and, in consequence of the great amount required, there was occasionally a scarcity of provisions. No inconvenient effects after five months of enforced seclusion were apparent in the conduct of the people of Baza. The daily attacks, skirmishes, defiances, continued without intermission; and while deserters frequently reported the insufficiency of food, no evidence of want was visible in the movements of the soldiers, whose activity and prowess indicated anything but the weakness born of famine and emaciation. The approach of winter, a season of great severity in the mountains of Baza, inspired the Moors with renewed and enthusiastic confidence. On the other hand, the Christians, admonished of the hardships they were liable to encounter, prepared as best they could to alleviate and endure them.

The executive ability of Isabella, who in every campaign had assumed the arduous duty of keeping the army provided with whatever was required for the conduct of military operations, was never more eminently displayed than at the siege of Baza. Notwithstanding the difficulties attaching to the carriage of supplies, plenty, for the greater portion of the time, reigned in the besieging army. From the head-quarters of the Queen at Jaen, convoys under strong escorts were constantly passing and repassing through the mountains with vast quantities of grain and munitions of war. Such confidence was felt in the security of transportation through the enemy’s country that, from every province of the Peninsula as well as from Sicily, merchants brought their wares to the camp, where a ready market was found for objects of luxury,--“articles,” as a contemporaneous chronicler plaintively remarks, “which render soldiers effeminate and injure armies, while they are in no respect advantageous to them.”

In accordance with their usual policy, the Spaniards proceeded to impress the enemy with the permanent character of their enterprise. A great number of huts of stone, cemented with mud, were built, and laid out in streets with all the regularity of a town. In addition to these, destined for the nobility and their vassals, many rude shelters were constructed from the trunks and branches of trees for the accommodation of the common soldiers, the horses, and the followers of the camp. These labors had hardly been completed when a furious storm undermined the walls, demolished the buildings, and involved in a scene of chaos the quarters of the entire army. The lighter materials were instantly swept away by the mountain torrents. Many soldiers were killed by the crumbling hovels, or, pinned down by heavy weights, were suffocated in the mire. The provisions were nearly all destroyed, and the roads so damaged that communication with Jaen was completely interrupted. The greatest distress soon prevailed. For nearly two weeks the soldiers remained without shelter and almost without food. Wading knee-deep in mud, drenched with constant rain, debilitated by hunger, hundreds died from exposure and from the fevers resulting from unsanitary conditions. During all this time the hostility of the Moors never for a moment slackened. In sheer desperation the Christians, although faint with weakness and disease, maintained their ground. Those who had from the first advised against the siege as impracticable now became importunate. The King listened to their remonstrances, and began to consider in his own mind the propriety of a retreat. Once more the inflexible resolution of Isabella revived the sinking spirits of her consort and her subjects and restored the fortunes of the campaign. In reply to the communications of Ferdinand, recounting the difficulties and discouragements he was forced to endure, she urged patience, determination, courage. Six thousand men were sent forth at once from Jaen to clear and repair the paths through the sierra. Convoys with ample supplies followed closely upon the heels of the pioneers. In addition to this, knowing that the soldiers deprived of their pay for months were impatient and inclined to be mutinous, the Queen wrote personal letters to the wealthy nobles requesting advances of money, and deposited her own gold and silver plate and jewels in Barcelona and Valencia, as security for loans. An idea may be formed of the straits to which the treasury had been reduced by the war from the fact that the royal crown of Castile and a magnificent necklace of great value on which sixty thousand florins had been advanced remained in the latter city unredeemed in 1490, six years after they had been pledged. By these energetic measures a large sum was obtained, from which all arrears could be discharged and the remainder applied to the prosecution of war.

But while this substantial assistance was of the greatest value in preserving the army, it was far from removing the prevalent apprehension and discontent. The great reliance that was placed on the Queen, and the universal respect entertained for her judgment, were now manifested in the general desire that she should visit the camp. The King did not hesitate to declare that he sorely needed her advice. Those who still favored the continuance of active operations hoped that her presence would infuse fresh enthusiasm into the minds of the disheartened troops; the malcontents, weary of hardship and sighing for the pleasures of Cordova and Seville, were convinced that personal experience of the dangers of the siege, which, while productive of enormous expense and loss of life, offered little prospect of adequate compensation, would induce their sovereign to favor the abandonment of such an unprofitable enterprise. Six months had elapsed without the acquirement of any substantial advantage. In spite of the fact that every day of that time had been marked by one or more bloody encounters, the Moslems were apparently as determined as ever. The reports of deserters now conveyed the information that provisions for several months still remained in the city. The women of Baza, animated by a noble spirit of self-denial, had contributed their jewels to pay the garrison. All attempts at negotiation--considered by the Moors as conclusive evidences of weakness--had been repulsed, and the latter did not conceal their expectation that the winter storms would yet force the retreat of the enemy. But the inability to employ heavy ordnance was the most serious drawback of all. Without it the fortifications of Baza were impregnable. The reduction by blockade was tedious, perilous, uncertain. While, as in the case of Malaga, no relief from exterior sources could be expected, the besieged were not exposed to artillery fire, and the event was, in fact, entirely a question of physical endurance.

Under these discouraging circumstances, Isabella set out from Jaen. In her train were members of the Royal Council, Cardinal Mendoza, the Archbishop of Seville, and an imposing array of prelates and nobles, of knights and ladies, who represented the piety, the dignity, and the beauty of the Court. The arrival of the Queen diffused universal joy and confidence throughout the camp; hostilities, which heretofore had been incessant, were suspended; silence and peace reigned where but a few hours before had resounded the noise and turmoil of conflict; and the Moors began to evince a disposition to entertain proposals for surrender, which until this time they had persistently refused to consider. In consequence of this favorable inclination of the besieged, an interview was held between the Don Gutierre de Cardenas, Commander of Leon, as the representative of the Catholic sovereigns, and Sidi Yahya, the Moslem governor. The question was submitted to the citizens of Baza, and by them referred to Al-Zagal. In their representations to the King, the people set forth the painful circumstances of their extremity, the hopelessness of aid, the apparently inexhaustible resources of the enemy, and their dread of the consequences, if misfortune should follow further resistance. To this appeal Al-Zagal generously replied that it was his wish that his subjects should act in this case as might seem most advantageous to them.

When this decision became known the utmost consternation spread throughout the great city of Guadix. Long the seat of royal power, isolated by its retired situation and by the mountains that surrounded it from active participation in, or personal experience of, the events which had contributed to the downfall of the monarchy, its inhabitants looked forward with undisguised repugnance and fear to the supremacy of a foreign ruler and the introduction of a hostile religion. The people, divided into two parties, one of which favored submission and the other resistance, were distracted by the contradictory arguments of the leaders, whose indignation was intensified by the acrimony of dispute; general distrust prevailed; the exercise of authority was for the moment suspended; the streets resounded with pathetic lamentations; and the trembling citizens, with pallid faces and half-frenzied with terror, asked each other if even their lives would be spared. It was with the utmost difficulty that persons of influence and distinction could pacify their ignorant neighbors, whose excited feelings had rendered them a prey to the most dismal apprehensions.

The reply of Al-Zagal was no sooner received than Sidi Yahya made arrangements for the surrender of Baza. Some provisions of the articles of capitulation were secret, and were never divulged. Many Moors of high rank were enriched by their subserviency to the enemy, which indicated a previous understanding, unsuspected at the time by their countrymen. The terms made public were almost identical with the most favorable ones granted to other cities. Non-residents who had volunteered their assistance during the siege were dismissed without restraint or ransom. All were confirmed in the possession of their personal effects; to the citizens was accorded the choice of continued residence or emigration; no restriction was to be imposed on the use of laws, customs, language, or religion; the taxes were to remain unchanged; and, in consideration of their obedience, the people were to fully enjoy the protection and receive the assistance of their new sovereigns. Hostages were delivered by the governor and the principal officials of the city; valuable gifts were presented to the latter, who did homage to the King and Queen; and the six days within which the city was to be evacuated, as provided by the treaty, having elapsed, Baza, after a most memorable defence, passed into the hands of the Christians on the fourth day of December, 1489.

As soon as information of its surrender had reached the various towns within its jurisdiction, their magistrates hastened to secure equal advantages by a timely submission. Within a few days, Almuñecar, Purchena, Tabernas, the innumerable settlements of the Alpujarras--in short, all the territory lying between Almeria and Granada--were added to the rapidly extending dominions of the Spanish Crown. The influence of Sidi Yahya, who visited Guadix for that purpose, was the means of inducing Al-Zagal to relinquish that city and Almeria, with their dependencies, the last relics of his diminished empire. The valiant old soldier, who had so long and so stoutly withstood the attacks of adverse fortune, was certainly deserving of a better fate. His sagacity and penetration readily convinced him of the futility of further resistance; he submitted with humility to the inexorable decree of Allah, and yielded with apparent willingness, but inward abhorrence, the sole remaining vestiges of his power. In return for these concessions his conquerors generously granted him his life, and the government of the small and barren principality of Andarax, where the habitual deference of his inferiors and the indulgence of fortune permitted him, for a time, the enjoyment of the titles and the exercise of the privileges of royalty.

Of the fragments of the vast and opulent Hispano-Arab monarchy, with its scores of magnificent cities, its landscape diversified by all the evidences of agricultural science and industry, its harbors the seat of a world-wide commerce, its society graced by every refinement of literary and artistic culture, there remained now but a limited and distracted province, bounded by the mountain ranges which encompassed its capital. That capital, although for years subjected to the pernicious and destructive effects of constant revolution and sanguinary disorder, still preserved, to a great extent, untarnished and unimpaired, its pristine elegance and beauty. Through the interested and politic forbearance of its enemies, it retained the delusive semblance of freedom and the pretensions of an imperial metropolis. No diminution in the number of its inhabitants was perceptible. The places of those sacrificed in foreign and domestic wars had been filled by refugees from ravaged lands and plundered cities. It was only in the decimated ranks of the nobility that the appalling results of national misfortune were apparent. Few indeed remained of those gallant cavaliers whose exploits in the field had for years sustained the exalted reputation of the Granadan chivalry. Of the five thousand present at the accession of Muley Hassan, but three hundred had survived. In the superb palaces, a royal slave, supported by a monthly pension from the Spanish Crown, maintained the unsubstantial parade of sovereignty and power. There were few indications visible to suggest the frightful scenes through which the city had passed. The barricades raised by armed sedition had been removed. The blood-stains had disappeared from the streets. Far above, on the highest tower of the citadel, might be discerned, impaled on pikes and beaten by many a storm, the grisly heads of those political agitators who had paid the penalty of unsuccessful insurrection with their lives. Except these significant tokens of despotic severity there was nothing to indicate the threatening cloud which hung over fair Granada. Within the ample circuit of its walls the hand of war had not yet placed its withering grasp. Its orchards still yielded their delicious fruits. Its gardens were still fragrant with the mingled odors of myriads of blossoms. In the bazaars, traders from every province of the Peninsula, relying upon the assurance of Christian protection, exchanged in peace their various wares. In the factories, which still produced in diminished quantities the richest fabrics, the busy artisans plied their trades. But this condition of apparent tranquillity was delusive. In the breasts of the aristocracy still rankled the enmity of generations. The populace was exasperated by tyranny and the infliction of long-continued outrage. The calamities induced by treason and barbarity were first in the minds of all. No exhibition of royal pomp could conceal the fact that the King had been for years a vassal of the infidel. No concession to public prejudice could atone for the butchery of relatives, the invasion of privacy, the confiscation of treasure. Over palace and mosque, over park and thoroughfare, hovered the ineffaceable memories of recent and bloody fraternal strife. In every public edifice, in every private abode, the trophies of victory reposed in suggestive proximity to the emblems of mourning and death.

The Vega, however, once the marvel of agricultural perfection and the centre of Moslem industry, presented a far different appearance. The verdant groves with which its surface had been diversified were gone. Its hydraulic system was disarranged and in part destroyed; the canals were filled up with rubbish; the rivulets diverted from their former course, and useless. Instead of the splendid villas, the graceful mosques, the snowy cottages embowered in roses, a few straggling huts rose at intervals over the uniform scene of ruin and devastation. Here and there, a patch of green, marking the spot where cultivation had begun to revive, contrasted with the generally charred and desolate aspect of the landscape. An occasional half-demolished tower indicated the former refuge of the laborer, sufficient against an ordinary marauding party, but powerless before armies numbering tens of thousands.

To such limited dimensions was the once all-powerful Moslem empire in Europe now reduced. Almost from the very day of its foundation it had been distracted by feud and sedition. It had witnessed the rise and growth of kingdoms; the birth of dynasties which from insignificant beginnings now bade fair to overshadow the world with their power; the portentous growth of a religious system that already menaced liberty of thought, and was soon to exert a potent and wide-spread influence for evil. The banner of the Cross had moved in a slow but steady progress from the frozen valleys of the Pyrenees to the verdant banks of the Darro. The cold, inhospitable region of the Asturias, destitute of the smiling attractions of Nature, without military roads or adequate subsistence, had repelled the assaults and checked the enterprise of the Moslems, who disdained and avoided a foe equally remarkable for poverty, fanaticism, and valor. The inability to appreciate and the neglect to crush this once despised but eventually formidable enemy was the first step in the decline of the Moorish power. Its fall was accelerated by many diverse circumstances. The glaring defects of its monarchical system, the absolute want of cohesion of its numerous and discordant political elements, the manifold evils derived from polygamous institutions and disputed inheritance, all became manifest when the factions of Islam began to contend for superiority in the bitter and interminable struggle for wealth and dominion.

In the rapidity and perfection of its intellectual development no nation ever approached the Spanish Arabs. But as their rise was sudden and brilliant, so their fall was the more crushing and disastrous. The truism that progressive degeneracy is the inevitable fate of every people who have reached the highest point of intellectual culture and material progress was once more to be demonstrated. Unfortunately for humanity, while the physical sciences advance, the art of government almost invariably retrogrades. The most perfect form of civilization is not favorable to the permanence of a state existing under the most finished social conditions. The greater the degree of intelligence, the lower the standard of political morality. These facts are strikingly exemplified in the closing history of the kingdom of Granada. At that period no people was as far advanced in the attainment of knowledge; in the practical application of scientific principles; in familiarity with and appreciation of the mechanical and the elegant arts. And, it must be added, nowhere was there less patriotism, less loyalty, less of that spirit of mutual concession and self-sacrifice indispensable to the preservation of communities and the maintenance of empire. Sovereign and subject alike, by turns, betrayed each other to the enemy. The most sacred obligations that can exist between the governors and the governed were repudiated without a blush. Crimes that would have appalled barbarians were so common as scarcely to excite comment. An ignoble competition seemed to exist between bodies of citizens of the same blood, and professing the same religious faith, to throw themselves into the power of an artful and perfidious adversary who was the mortal enemy of all. A universal degradation, from whose blight even the most illustrious were not exempt, pervaded all classes,--a condition which had at last reached its climax after its gradual development through centuries, and was finally disclosed by that perversion of manners, morals, government, and laws which so significantly indicates the corruption and the decadence of nations.

The main provision in the compact exacted at Loja by the Catholic sovereigns from Boabdil in his distress involved the surrender of Granada and all the contiguous territory subject to his jurisdiction, as soon as the dominions of Al-Zagal had been incorporated into the Spanish monarchy. Compliance with the terms of this agreement was now formally demanded. The weak and unprincipled King, who in making the bargain had never anticipated its enforcement or appreciated the debilitated condition of the kingdom and the imminent danger of its downfall, was thunderstruck when he learned that the power of his uncle had suddenly collapsed. It had been his hope that the complacent subserviency he had exhibited in the protection of the interests of his country’s enemies, the abject submission with which he had implored their aid against his subjects, and the costly gifts which he had secretly distributed among influential courtiers standing in the shadow of the throne, would suffice to procure for him the enjoyment of at least the name and the appearance of royal authority for the remainder of his life. Therefore, with a view to deferring the evil, yet with no definite expectation of preventing it, he tried to temporize. He represented that immediate fulfilment of his contract was impossible, for the reason that, as great numbers of persons driven out of the conquered territory had since become citizens of Granada, it was necessary to consult their interests and obtain their acquiescence in the terms demanded. Anxious to avoid a renewal of hostilities, Ferdinand offered to bestow upon him certain estates from whose revenue he might live in luxury, dependent solely upon the acknowledgment of vassalage and the payment of a moderate tribute. But Boabdil, always vacillating when promptness and decision were required, always headstrong when the exigencies of the occasion demanded compliance, as usual adopted an impolitic course. Turning a deaf ear to the remonstrances of his most sagacious advisers, who recognized the advantages of submission and the folly of resistance, he began to listen to the rash counsels of the youthful nobles and desperate adventurers whose votes were unanimously for war.

Then Ferdinand sent to the people of Granada a copy of the secret treaty which revealed the perfidy and dishonor of their King. Its publication aroused such universal indignation and contempt that nothing but his inaccessible position in the citadel of the Alhambra saved his life. The streets were filled with a surging mob, whose clamors rose menacingly to the battlements of the palace. The renegades, santons, exiles, and soldiers of fortune inflamed the fickle and turbulent populace, whose supremacy signified anarchy, proscription, and death. Fortunately for the detested monarch, the soldiers remained faithful to his cause, and their devotion alone preserved him from the violence of his infuriated subjects. By strenuous efforts the old Arab aristocracy and the wealthy merchants finally succeeded in restoring order. The crowds, still uttering ominous threats, sullenly dispersed. The shops were once more opened. Traffic was resumed, and the citizens, with a despairing sense of helplessness and trepidation, moved uneasily through the streets. Boabdil, conscious that the only choice now left to him was that of abdication or war, selected the latter alternative, and publicly announced his intention to fight, and to prolong, if he could not palliate, the last throes of an expiring monarchy. The conditions resulting from the suddenly altered relations of the courts of Castile and Granada obtained for the Moors some minor advantages; the castle of Padul and a few other forts near the capital were taken; an expedition led by Ferdinand in person through the Vega for the purpose of destroying the harvests failed to thoroughly accomplish its object; and, constantly harassed by the enemy, the Christians were eventually forced to retreat.

The pitiful remnant of the kingdom of Granada, heretofore torn by sedition and threatened with conquest, was now to experience the active hostility of those who should have ventured their lives to defend it before it was reduced to extremity. The eminent qualities of Sidi Yahya, the former governor of Baza, his courtesy and his prowess, his illustrious birth, and the gallantry with which he had maintained his trust, had extorted the reluctant applause of his enemies, commendation formerly denied to others of equal merit but inferior lineage. These noble attributes had, however, recently been darkened by actions which brought upon him the imputation of corruption, apostasy, venality, and treason. He was more than suspected of having sacrificed the people of Baza for his personal benefit. Men eyed with suspicion the favor he enjoyed with the Christians, the sudden wealth he had acquired, the close relations he maintained with the enemy. These accusations, which his subsequent conduct tended rather to confirm than to remove, were well grounded. In recognition of his influence great interest was taken in him. Every attempt was made to induce him to renounce his religion. The most learned and distinguished prelates labored to convince him of his errors. Even the Queen interposed her good offices in an attempt at proselytism. Magnificent presents were bestowed upon him as an earnest of greater and more substantial rewards. At first, amidst all of the importunity and temptation of his zealous advisers, the constancy of the subtle Moor remained apparently unshaken. This firmness was, however, simulated. He had long before determined to profit by the certain benefits of a voluntary conversion. His resistance only served to enhance the credit of those who effected his apparent change of heart. After having been duly “catechised,” as the chronicler significantly remarks, he became a good Christian, and was secretly received into the bosom of the Church.

Sidi Yahya, anxious to demonstrate his fidelity to his new suzerain and to remove any prejudice that might result from his contumacy, evinced the greatest enthusiasm for the Spanish cause. With a hundred and fifty followers, he assisted in the foray which laid waste the environs of Granada; and, by the use of a well-worn stratagem, captured an important outpost of the capital, and earned at the same time the applause of his recently acquired friends and the execration of those still bound to him by the ties of a common ancestry, and who had been so lately professors of a common faith. Upon the elevation now known as The Soto de Roma, two leagues from the city, stood in the fifteenth century a strong castle, built to protect the royal orchards and parks by which it was surrounded. At the head of his command and apparently escorting a number of Christian captives, Sidi Yahya approached the fortress, and, stating that he was closely pursued, requested immediate shelter. The soldiers of the garrison, deceived by the dress, by the arms, and especially by the language of the strangers, whom they supposed to be a party from Granada, without hesitation opened the gates. A few moments afterwards they were prisoners; their pretended friends disclosed the fact that they were the vassals of Spain; and the banner of Castile and Leon was raised upon the battlements. By such methods did the renowned Moorish captain attempt to emphasize his new allegiance, thereby meriting the detestation of every faithful Moslem, and tarnishing the lustre of a military record which, until his political and religious apostasy, had remained without a blemish. Al-Zagal also answered the summons of Ferdinand with two hundred cavalry; and, in sight of those towers where he had formerly reigned supreme, displayed the same dash and courage which had signalized his operations while he was the most formidable adversary of those sovereigns whom the fortunes of war now compelled him to serve in a subordinate capacity.

The exploit of the princely apostate was soon eclipsed by the capture of Alhendin. That castle, situated near Granada, was one of the strongest in the Vega, and had not long before surrendered to the Spaniards without resistance. Invested suddenly by the forces of Boabdil, the slender garrison was unable to withstand the impetuous attack of the Moors, who fought in relays and left the besieged no respite day or night. Four days sufficed to reduce the Christians to extremity; all communication with their friends being interrupted left them no alternative but submission; they were led in triumph to the dungeons of the capital, and Alhendin was razed to the ground. After Alhendin, the castles of Alboloduy and Marchena attracted the hostility of the Moorish King. Both were stormed and pillaged; their Castilian garrisons were enslaved, and the lands dependent on them, which formed part of the fief of Sidi Yahya, were ravaged without mercy. The Mudejares of the surrounding country were tortured or massacred; the cattle driven away; and the victorious Boabdil returned to Granada, where he was received with the greatest enthusiasm. These brilliant deeds raised the fainting hopes of the Moslems; prompted by the deceptive but plausible expectations of victory, they dreamed of the return of independence and the restoration of empire; the army increased rapidly in numbers; and arrangements were made for the prosecution of an extensive and vigorous campaign. The siege of Salobreña, whose port offered easy communication with the African coast, was next undertaken. Its defenders, provided with insufficient rations, were soon oppressed with hunger, and, exhausted by the desperate charges of the Moslem soldiery, who, adopting the tactics successful at Alhendin, maintained a furious and incessant combat, the suburbs and the town were stormed; and the garrison, driven to the citadel, began to yield to despair. The numbers of the enemy and their strong position rendered the relief of the place impossible without the aid of a powerful army; but Hernan Perez del Pulgar, with seventy lances, cut his way through the lines, and his arrival infused new energy into the despondent minds of the besieged. Again and again the Moorish battalions were repulsed; there was no time for the employment of the slow but more certain operations of artillery; intelligence reached the Moslems that Ferdinand was approaching; and Boabdil, after a rapid and inglorious retreat, found safety within the walls of his capital. The unexpected spirit displayed by the Moorish King aroused the martial ardor of the Mudejares, who had so recently renounced their allegiance to Al-Zagal, and were eager to cast off the yoke which they had assumed from necessity. Communication was secretly opened between the malcontents of Guadix, Almeria, Baza, and the Moslem court; many recruits from these and other cities enlisted in the army of Granada; and preparations for a conspiracy were inaugurated which only awaited a propitious moment to burst forth into a general and bloody insurrection.

It was impossible to preserve a secret known to whole communities, and, informers being abundant among the Moors, it was not long before full details of the plot were in possession of the Spanish authorities. As practically all of the Mudejares were implicated, either as active participants or as sympathizers, it was not considered advisable to inflict the extreme severity of punishment that the case demanded, so milder, but fully as effective, measures were decided upon. Guadix was the centre of the disaffection, and the Marquis of Villena, Captain-General of the district, induced all the inhabitants of that city to gather outside the walls under pretext of an enumeration. He then closed the gates, acquainted them with the reason for this precaution, and ordered them to await the arrival of the King. When Ferdinand came, a few days subsequently, he declared that the unfortunate people of Guadix had forfeited their claims to protection or clemency, and he gave them the alternative of immediate exile or a tributary residence in his dominions in open and unfortified villages. The same rigorous terms were offered to Baza and Almeria; a large emigration to Tlemcen and Fez took place; a considerable number of industrious Moors established themselves in Andalusia, where the Inquisition eventually visited its tortures upon them or their descendants; and thus, without the least effort or even apparent formality of confiscation, the rich possessions of the Moors--their elegant villas, their plantations and vineyards, their sumptuous residences, mosques, and gardens--passed into the rapacious hands of the Christians.

The mountaineer subjects of Al-Zagal regarded with anything but approval his renunciation of his rights of sovereignty and the zeal he displayed in the service of the national enemy. After the capture of Alhendin they rebelled, declared for Boabdil, and attempted the murder of the venerable monarch whom in the day of his glory they had honored with almost the reverence due to a divinity. Al-Zagal, well aware of what the consequences would be if he remained, signified his willingness to surrender the paltry dignity he had received in exchange for his abdication for five million maravedis and free transportation to Africa, which had been among the conditions of the treaty. Ferdinand eagerly accepted his proposition; the Moslem prince with a great following passed the sea; and thus the Spanish monarchy not only acquired a considerable increase of territory, but was delivered from a vassal who lacked only the provocation, which might at any time arise, to prove a most dangerous enemy. Nothing in mediæval history is more sad than the ultimate fate of this brave old warrior who had faced death with undaunted spirit on a hundred fields of battle. The perfidious Sultan of Fez, in ruthless violation of the laws of hospitality, plundered, imprisoned, and blinded him. The dashing general, who had once been the idol of the populace of Granada and the pride of its soldiery, wandered for many years a beggar, clad in rags, through the cities of Northern Africa, an object of pity and curiosity to the rabble of the Desert, by whom he was pointed out to strangers as the former King of Andalusia.

It was at this time that the Quixotic personage Pulgar, whose reckless spirit delighted in the achievement of hazardous undertakings, which, to men of rational judgment, seemed foolhardy and impracticable, performed the most noted and perilous of all his feats. With fifty followers he set out one night from Alhama to burn the city of Granada. Guided by a faithful renegade, the party remained concealed during the day in an obscure and unfrequented valley of the sierra, and, as darkness came on, they silently approached the walls enclosing the channel of the Darro until they reached a bridge. Under this, six were detailed to remain and guard the horses, while Pulgar and the others entered the city. The Moslem capital was plunged in slumber, and the adventurers, issuing from a sewer into the silent streets, proceeded to the principal mosque. There Pulgar, in a characteristic spirit of bravado, unfolded a paper on which was inscribed the legend, “Ave Maria,” and pinned it with his dagger to the bronze-plated door. Then hastening to the Alcaiceria, or Silk-Market, he produced a fagot with which he was provided and prepared to start the conflagration. At the last moment, it was discovered that the tinder, indispensable for this purpose, had been left at the mosque. While trying to strike fire with flint and steel, a patrol suddenly appeared. The Spaniards, drawing their swords, drove back the enemy, and, retiring to the spot where they had left their companions, all rode rapidly away. This exploit of Pulgar, which appealed so strongly to the romantic natures of his countrymen, gained for him also the admiring commendation of his sovereigns, who granted him during his lifetime the seat of honor in the cathedral choir, and at his death placed his tomb upon the very spot where he knelt to plant his dagger in the door of the great Moslem temple.

Everything now being in readiness for the final campaign, Ferdinand, on the twentieth of April, 1491, at the head of fifty thousand men in two grand divisions, again entered the Vega. The Marquis of Villena was despatched to the Alpujarras to destroy the provisions collected there for the use of the capital. Then the army went into permanent quarters in an intrenched camp near Granada, where it was soon joined by the Queen. On account of its great population, as well as the desire to preserve as mementos of conquest its splendid architectural monuments, it had been determined to reduce the city by famine. Parties were organized to scour the country in every direction and cut off all supplies. Frequent expeditions, made in force, swept for a radius of many miles every trace of verdure from the face of the land. The beautiful suburbs, which had hitherto been exempt from hostile violence, now became a prey to the ruthless destroyer. In vain, Boabdil, charging at the head of his cavalry, endeavored to stay his resistless progress. His soldiers were repulsed; his guard was cut to pieces; and he himself only escaped the evils of a second and a more disastrous captivity through the superior swiftness of his horse. The orchards and vineyards on the western side of the city were laid waste, and all the buildings within reach of the Spaniards--castles, mills, villas, palaces, and towers--were involved in one common destruction.

Two months after the resumption of hostilities, the carelessness of a servant of the royal household set fire to a tent; and the conflagration caused by the accident swept away in a few moments the entire Christian camp. Great confusion ensued; the troops were called to arms, and means at once taken to repel an attack should one be attempted; but the enemy remained quietly behind his defences. Any fallacious hopes that might have arisen in the minds of the Moors as a result of this catastrophe were soon dissipated. A substantial city, regularly laid out and fortified, guarded by ditches and gates, and provided with an ample square in the centre for the parade and exercise of troops, soon rose upon the site of the ruined encampment, and was named, with the characteristic piety of its founders, Santa Fé.

The siege of Granada, while one of the most important in the history of the Reconquest, was not, like many others, diversified by any incidents of absorbing interest. An occasional skirmish with indecisive results; a foray and the burning of some isolated castle; a chivalric encounter of knights challenged by mortal defiance; a perpetual succession of rounds and patrols,--such were the monotonous events which characterized the investment of the last Moslem stronghold. Every reliance was placed upon the blockade, and the use of heavy ordnance was not adopted at any time in the reduction of the city. The intrepidity of the Moslems was never more conspicuous than in this their final struggle for national existence. The rapid and terrifying evolutions, the wild and furious charge, the unsuspected and treacherous ambuscade peculiar to their tactics, were all employed with audacious courage and crafty resource, but with indifferent success. Before long, the great multitude within the walls began to experience the agonies of hunger. With want came discontent; with discontent, clamorous demands for capitulation, and ominous murmurs of sedition and violence. The infuriated populace swarmed in the public places, threatening the wealthy with pillage and the monarch with death. The prospect of the triumph of the odious infidel aroused the fanaticism of the santons, who, counselling resistance to the end, communicated their frenzy to their superstitious followers, thus vastly increasing the difficulties of the situation. Outside of the citadel anarchy reigned supreme. The doors of all the shops and houses were closed and barricaded. The nobles and the principal citizens took refuge in the Alhambra; and there an assembly of all those of conspicuous dignity and influence was held to determine on the course to be pursued. The vote was unanimous in favor of submission. Boabdil acquiesced in silence; and Abul-Kasim, the governor of the city, was deputed to visit the Christian camp in the character of envoy and open negotiations relative to surrender. Received with every mark of courtesy, the Moorish ambassador obtained at once the concession of a truce of thirty days’ duration from the first day of December. The articles of capitulation were much more liberal than any heretofore granted to the vanquished Moslems, but in their scope and significance there was a general similarity. Rendered wise by experience, the Moors endeavored to have the treaty guaranteed by the Pope, and its observance sworn to by the Spanish monarchs; but the omission of these doubtful warrants of security was obtained by the bribery of their commissioners, who quietly and successfully ignored the instructions of their countrymen. In consideration of the delivery of Granada and its surrounding territory, the Catholic sovereigns bound themselves and their royal descendants to forever permit the Moors to practise without molestation or injury the rites of their faith and the observances prescribed by their customs and their laws. Their mosques were to be always consecrated to their worship, and their sanctity was to be inviolate and never profaned by the presence of a misbeliever. All regulations relative to the collection of revenues for sacred purposes were to continue in force; Moslem judges were to preside in the tribunals; and the laws which governed the transfers of real property, as well as those of inheritance and every form of civil rights, were to remain unaltered. In regard to public instruction, absolute independence was solemnly guaranteed, and the interference of Christians with schools or with anything pertaining thereto was prohibited. Unqualified liberty of conscience was conceded to the children of mingled Spanish and Moorish blood; all debts and obligations previously incurred were to be faithfully discharged and all penalties exacted; disputes between Christian and Moslem were to be settled amicably by arbitration; and the alguazils and other executive officers appointed under the Moslem code were to discharge, without interruption, their various and respective duties. In other articles were embodied sanitary and police regulations,--the distinction of markets, the preservation and purity of the waters, and numerous matters of inferior importance arising from the dissimilarity of social customs and the wide divergence exhibited by the forms and ceremonies of two irreconcilable religions. In addition to these were certain provisions defining the rights and privileges conferred upon Boabdil and his relatives, and the enumeration of the possessions they were hereafter to enjoy. As a return for the invaluable services he had rendered his enemies at the expense of his country, the richest portions of the royal patrimony, embracing twelve extensive districts, were declared to be vested in perpetuity in himself and his descendants; all the members of his family received large estates; the Valley of Purchena was allotted to him as the principality for which he was to render homage; and an ample pension was added by the apparent gratitude or suspicious generosity of the conquerors.

On the second day of January, 1492, preparations were made for the relinquishment of the last vestige of Moslem power in the Spanish Peninsula. Seven hundred and eighty years had elapsed since the army of Tarik had shattered and overthrown the crumbling fabric of the Visigothic monarchy. As a result of that event, a handful of despised and neglected peasants, hidden in the mist-clad mountains of the North, had formed a nucleus around which had clustered the elements of a great nation and the fame and prestige of an invincible soldiery. The conquest just achieved, important as it was, was still but trifling in comparison with those which, in the succeeding century, were to be gained by the arms of that far-famed and chivalrous nation. The wealth of the Spanish Arabs was insignificant when contrasted with the incalculable treasures of Mexico and Peru. The capture of Malaga and Granada was almost inappreciable in national glory and political effect when compared with the battle of Pavia or the siege and sack of Rome. But it was still a magnificent triumph; the culmination of centuries of battle; the realization of the dreams of many generations of princes and prelates, the accomplishment of whose aims seemed often chimerical and hopeless. Every circumstance was called into play, every resource adopted, to make the spectacle of the rendition of the Moslem capital imposing and memorable. The entire army was drawn up in military array. The field was gay with waving banners, burnished armor, many-colored mantles, and surcoats of silk and cloth of gold. All the splendid chivalry of Castile were present; some, representatives of ancient and illustrious houses who traced their lineage back to the court of Roderick; others, whose patents of nobility of more recent date had been won in long and honorable warfare against the infidel. Among these were to be seen the white turban and striped burnous of the Arab, who would have resented the epithets of traitor and renegade, but who, actuated by inherited prejudice or tribal jealousy, had not hesitated to draw his sword against his brethren. Not less conspicuous than the nobles were the prelates, in full canonicals, preceded by Cardinal Mendoza, Primate of Spain, one of whose attendants bore the massive cross, still preserved in the Cathedral of Toledo, soon to be raised, symbolizing the triumph of Christian over Moorish superstition, on the loftiest tower of the Alhambra. The heralds who preceded the royal escort were dressed in tabards emblazoned with the arms of Castile and Leon in silver, gold, and scarlet. In the centre of a brilliant group came Isabella, attired in rich brocade and mounted upon a white palfrey, whose housings of embroidered velvet swept the ground.

There, too, was Ferdinand, proud, stern, impassive; his stolid features bearing no evidence of the exultation he must have felt, yet willing to concede to his martial consort the larger portion of the credit attaching to the crowning glory of the Christian cause. Around the monarchs were assembled the princes of the blood, the great dignitaries of the realm in their robes and bearing their insignia of office, the haughty grandees, the female members of the Queen’s household in splendid costumes and glittering jewels, the famous warriors whose prowess had made their names familiar to every nation in Europe,--sheathed in polished steel, with lance and buckler, with pennon and heraldic device,--in all a picture worthily representing the pomp and the magnificence, the pride and the renown, of the Spanish monarchy. As the splendid procession swept forward amidst the blare of trumpets, the strains of martial music, the waving of banners, and the tumultuous applause of thousands, and halted on an elevation near the Genil, a gate of the Alhambra swung slowly open. From it issued a band of horsemen, whose appearance and dress indicated that their origin and customs were foreign to the continent of Europe. At their head rode a cavalier encased in armor exquisitely damascened, and whose fair complexion and tawny beard offered a striking contrast to the swarthy features of those who formed his retinue. The latter were clothed in flowing robes of silk woven in stripes of every hue, revealing, when moved by the morning breeze, shining coats of mail and scimetars set with gems and inlaid with gold.

The interview of the sovereigns was short and almost devoid of ceremony. Obsequious to the last, Boabdil attempted to dismount and kiss the hand of his conqueror, but the Spanish King, with generous and unaffected courtesy, prevented this act of voluntary abasement, insisted on his remaining mounted, and received the kiss upon his sleeve. With a few words, which betrayed the bitterness of his mortification and anguish, the Moslem prince surrendered the keys of the city to Ferdinand. He gave them to Isabella, and she, in turn, transferred these evidences of possession and sovereignty to the Count of Tendilla, who had been appointed Governor of Granada. The latter, with many nobles as escort and a garrison of five thousand men, without delay entered and took possession of the Alhambra, and raised upon the tower of Comares the gold and silver cross of the Archiepiscopate of Toledo, the royal ensign, and the consecrated standard of Santiago. The appearance of the sacred emblem and the familiar banners upon the battlements of the Moorish citadel aroused the wildest enthusiasm among the spectators. The priests of the royal chapel chanted the Te Deum Laudamus. Thousands of gray and battle-scarred veterans fell upon their knees and wept for joy. The heralds, in all the magnificence of their striking costumes, made proclamation, by sound of trumpet, that the authority of the Moslems had forever vanished from the Peninsula in the words, “Castilla! Castilla! Granada! Granada! por los reyes Don Fernando y Doña Isabel?” The stately Castilian nobles, in the glittering panoply of war, one after another, then came forward, knelt before Isabella, and kissed her hand in homage for her newly acquired dignity as Queen of Granada.

Followed by the principal Moorish officials, some of whom, including the vizier, were secret renegades and in the pay of Ferdinand, Boabdil retired to his dominions in the Alpujarras. Even there he was not destined to remain long in tranquillity. Subjected to ceaseless espionage, his every word and action were reported to Hernando de Zafra, secretary of the Catholic monarchs. Despite his apparent apathy, his presence was considered a menace to the public peace, especially when the discontent arising from open violations of the treaty began to be manifested. Emissaries were sent to attempt the purchase of his estates and to suggest the probable dangers of insurrection, as contrasted with the advantages of voluntary exile. This failing of success, a bolder plan was resolved upon. The false vizier, Ibn-Comixa, was induced to assume an authority which he did not possess, to sell to the Spanish Crown the possessions of the princes of the Moorish dynasty of Granada, and to even stipulate, in detail, the time and manner of their departure from Spain. The price this corrupt and treacherous agent received for his services was never known. The rights of Boabdil and his family thus were disposed of, without their consent, for the paltry sum of twenty-one thousand doubloons of gold. When apprised by his unblushing minister of the manner in which he had been betrayed, he drew his sword, and Ibn-Comixa only saved his life by instant flight. The unfortunate prince well knew who had suggested the employment of this ignoble and perfidious artifice, and that it would be dangerous, as well as useless, to attempt to repudiate a measure which, dictated by cunning, would certainly be enforced by violence. He therefore ratified the spurious contract, received in exchange for his estates and all claims upon the crown nine millions of maravedis; and, on the fourteenth of October, 1493, sailed with all his household for Africa, where the Sultan of Fez had offered him an asylum. Thirty-four years afterwards he fell in battle, fighting bravely in the service of his benefactor against the savage mountaineers of the Atlas. His body, never recovered, remained unburied in the Desert, under a strange sky, far from the scene of his early triumphs, his misfortunes, and his disgrace.

Thus ended the implacable contest waged by Christian and Moslem so long and so desperately in the southwestern corner of Europe. To the heroic queen of Ferdinand is to be attributed the success of the last campaign of that portentous struggle. It was her administrative ability that regulated the internal affairs of the kingdom, suppressed lawlessness, established order, restored public confidence, developed the resources and consolidated the strength of a powerful and warlike nation. Her martial genius was ever with the army, whether encouraging it by her presence on the march or collecting and transporting supplies over mountain paths beset by bold and cunning enemies; ever animating the living, ever aiding and consoling the relatives of the dead. She was universally recognized as the head and front of the crusade; every opinion was tacitly subordinated to her judgment; her advice was sought in all important undertakings; her cheerful personality brought courage and enthusiasm to the disheartened camp; her masculine spirit did not shrink from participation in the exposure of a reconnoissance or from the certain and omnipresent dangers of the field of battle. In the closing scenes of the eventful drama hers was the prominent figure. On the day of the capitulation, she alone carried the sceptre and wore the crown, tacitly belying the motto, “Tanto Monta,” which admitted the equality of Aragon; it was her hand which bestowed the keys of the city and the authority of governor on her hereditary vassal, the Count of Tendilla; it was “Castile” that the heralds proclaimed from the highest battlements of the palace; it was not before the politic craft of Ferdinand that the haughty aristocracy of the North bowed with profound and graceful obeisance in acknowledgment of the sovereignty of a newly conquered realm, but before the eminent talents, the earnest piety, the affable but majestic and ever impressive dignity of Isabella the Catholic, Queen of Castile and Granada.

END OF VOLUME II.

Transcriber’s Notes:

1. Obvious printers’, punctuation and spelling errors have been corrected silently.

2. Where hyphenation is in doubt, it has been retained as in the original.

3. Some hyphenated and non-hyphenated versions of the same words have been retained as in the original.

4. Italics are shown as _xxx_.