CHAPTER V

Chronicle of the Conquest of Granada

by Washington Irving

CHAPTER V, CHRONICLE OF THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA by Washington Irving

EXPEDITION OF THE MARQUES OF CADIZ AGAINST ALHAMA.


Great was the indignation of King Ferdinand when he heard of the
storming of Zahara, though the outrage of the Moor happened most
opportunely. The war between Castile and Portugal had come to a
close; the factions of Spanish nobles were for the most part quelled.
The Castilian monarchs had now, therefore, turned their thoughts
to the cherished object of their ambition, the conquest of Granada.
The pious heart of Isabella yearned to behold the entire Peninsula
redeemed from the domination of the infidel, while Ferdinand, in
whom religious zeal was mingled with temporal policy, looked with
a craving eye to the rich territory of the Moor, studded with wealthy
towns and cities. Muley Abul Hassan had rashly or unwarily thrown
the brand that was to produce the wide conflagration. Ferdinand was
not the one to quench the flames. He immediately issued orders to
all the adelantados and alcaydes of the frontiers to maintain the
utmost vigilance at their several posts, and to prepare to carry fire
and sword into the territories of the Moors.

Among the many valiant cavaliers who rallied round the throne of
Ferdinand and Isabella, one of the most eminent in rank and renowned
in arms was Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon, marques of Cadiz. As he
was the distinguished champion of this holy war, and commanded in
most of its enterprises and battles, it is meet that some particular
account should be given of him. He was born in 1443 of the valiant
lineage of the Ponces, and from his earliest youth had rendered
himself illustrious in the field. He was of the middle stature, with a
muscular and powerful frame, capable of great exertion and fatigue.
His hair and beard were red and curled, his countenance was open and
magnanimous, of a ruddy complexion and slightly marked with the small-
pox. He was temperate, chaste, valiant, vigilant; a just and generous
master to his vassals; frank and noble in his deportment toward his
equals; loving and faithful to his friends; fierce and terrible, yet
magnanimous, to his enemies. He was considered the mirror of
chivalry of his times, and compared by contemporary historians to
the immortal Cid.

The marques of Cadiz had vast possessions in the most fertile parts
of Andalusia, including many towns and castles, and could lead forth
an army into the field from his own vassals and dependants. On
receiving the orders of the king he burned to signalize himself by
some sudden incursion into the kingdom of Granada that should give a
brilliant commencement to the war, and should console the sovereigns
for the insult they had received in the capture of Zahara. As his
estates lay near to the Moorish frontiers and were subject to sudden
inroads, he had always in his pay numbers of adalides, or scouts and
guides, many of them converted Moors. These he sent out in all
directions to watch the movements of the enemy and to procure all
kinds of information important to the security of the frontier. One
of these spies came to him one day in his town of Marchena, and
informed him that the Moorish town of Alhama was slightly garrisoned
and negligently guarded, and might be taken by surprise. This was a
large, wealthy, and populous place within a few leagues of Granada.
It was situated on a rocky height, nearly surrounded by a river, and
defended by a fortress to which there was no access but by a steep
and cragged ascent. The strength of its situation and its being
embosomed in the centre of the kingdom had produced the careless
security which now invited attack.

To ascertain fully the state of the fortress the marques despatched
secretly a veteran soldier who was highly in his confidence. His
name was Ortega de Prado, a man of great activity, shrewdness,
and valor, and captain of escaladors (soldiers employed to scale the
walls of fortresses in time of attack). Ortega approached Alhama
one moonless night, and paced along its walls with noiseless step,
laying his ear occasionally to the ground or to the wall. Every time
he distinguished the measured tread of a sentinel, and now and
then the challenge of the night-watch going its rounds. Finding the
town thus guarded, he clambered to the castle: there all was silent.
As he ranged its lofty battlements between him and the sky he saw
no sentinel on duty. He noticed certain places where the wall might
be ascended by scaling-ladders, and, having marked the hour of
relieving guard and made all necessary observations, he retired
without being discovered.

Ortega returned to Marchena, and assured the marques of Cadiz of
the practicability of scaling the castle of Alhama and taking it by
surprise. The marques had a secret conference with Don Pedro
Enriques, adelantado of Andalusia, Don Diego de Merlo, commander
of Seville, Sancho de Avila, alcayde of Carmona, and others, who
all agreed to aid him with their forces. On an appointed day the
several commanders assembled at Marchena with their troops and
retainers. None but the leaders knew the object or destination of
the enterprise, but it was enough to rouse the Andalusian spirit to
know that a foray was intended into the country of their old
enemies, the Moors. Secrecy and celerity were necessary for
success. They set out promptly with three thousand genetes or light
cavalry and four thousand infantry. They chose a route but little
travelled, by the way of Antiquera, passing with great labor through
rugged and solitary defiles of the sierra or chain of mountains of
Arrecife, and left all their baggage on the banks of the river Yeguas,
to be brought after them. This march was principally in the night;
all day they remained quiet; no noise was suffered in their camp,
and no fires were made, lest the smoke should betray them. On
the third day they resumed their march as the evening darkened,
and, forcing themselves forward at as quick a pace as the rugged
and dangerous mountain-roads would permit, they descended toward
midnight into a small deep valley only half a league from Alhama.
Here they made a halt, fatigued by this forced march, during a long
dark evening toward the end of February.

The marques of Cadiz now explained to the troops the object of
the expedition. He told them it was for the glory of the most holy
faith and to avenge the wrongs of their countrymen at Zahara, and
that the town of Alhama, full of wealthy spoil, was the place to be
attacked. The troops were roused to new ardor by these words,
and desired to be led forthwith to the assault. They arrived close to
Alhama about two hours before daybreak. Here the army remained in
ambush, while three hundred men were despatched to scale the walls
and get possession of the castle. They were picked men, many of
them alcaydes and officers, men who preferred death to dishonor.
This gallant band was guided by the escalador Ortega de Prado at the
head of thirty men with scaling-ladders. They clambered the ascent
to the castle in silence, and arrived under the dark shadow of its
towers without being discovered. Not a light was to be seen, not a
sound to be heard; the whole place was wrapped in profound repose.

Fixing their ladders, they ascended cautiously and with noiseless
steps. Ortega was the first that mounted upon the battlements,
followed by one Martin Galindo, a youthful esquire full of spirit
and eager for distinction. Moving stealthily along the parapet to
the portal of the citadel, they came upon the sentinel by surprise.
Ortega seized him by the throat, brandished a dagger before his
eyes, and ordered him to point the way to the guard-room. The
infidel obeyed, and was instantly despatched, to prevent his giving
an alarm. The guard-room was a scene rather of massacre than
combat. Some of the soldiery were killed while sleeping, others
were cut down almost without resistance, bewildered by so unexpected
an assault: all were despatched, for the scaling party was too small
to make prisoners or to spare. The alarm spread throughout the
castle, but by this time the three hundred picked men had mounted
the battlements. The garrison, startled from sleep, found the enemy
already masters of the towers. Some of the Moors were cut down at
once, others fought desperately from room to room, and the whole
castle resounded with the clash of arms, the cries of the combatants,
and the groans of the wounded. The army in ambush, finding by
the uproar that the castle was surprised, now rushed from their
concealment, and approached the walls with loud shouts and sound
of kettle-drums and trumpets to increase the confusion and dismay
of the garrison. A violent conflict took place in the court of the
castle, where several of the scaling party sought to throw open
the gates to admit their countrymen. Here fell two valiant alcaydes,
Nicholas de Roja and Sancho de Avila, but they fell honorably, upon
a heap of slain. At length Ortega de Prado succeeded in throwing
open a postern through which the marques of Cadiz, the adelantado
of Andalusia, and Don Diego de Merlo entered with a host of followers,
and the citadel remained in full possession of the Christians.

As the Spanish cavaliers were ranging from room to room, the marques
of Cadiz, entering an apartment of superior richness to the rest,
beheld, by the light of a silver lamp, a beautiful Moorish female,
the wife of the alcayde of the castle, whose husband was absent
attending a wedding-feast at Velez Malaga. She would have fled at
the sight of a Christian warrior in her apartment, but, entangled in
the covering of the bed, she fell at the feet of the marques, imploring
mercy. That Christian cavalier, who had a soul full of honor and
courtesy toward the sex, raised her from the floor and endeavored
to allay her fears; but they were increased at the sight of her female
attendants pursued into the room by the Spanish soldiery. The
marques reproached his soldiers with unmanly conduct, and reminded
them that they made war upon men, not on defenceless women.
Having soothed the terrors of the females by the promise of honorable
protection, he appointed a trusty guard to watch over the security of
their apartment.

The castle was now taken, but the town below it was in arms. It was
broad day, and the people, recovered from their panic, were enabled
to see and estimate the force of the enemy. The inhabitants were
chiefly merchants and tradespeople, but the Moors all possessed a
knowledge of the use of weapons and were of brave and warlike
spirit. They confided in the strength of their walls and the certainty
of speedy relief from Granada, which was but about eight leagues
distant. Manning the battlements and towers, they discharged
showers of stones and arrows whenever the part of the Christian
army without the walls attempted to approach. They barricadoed
the entrances of their streets also which opened toward the castle,
stationing men expert at the crossbow and arquebuse. These kept
up a constant fire upon the gate of the castle, so that no one could
sally forth without being instantly shot down. Two valiant cavaliers
who attempted to lead forth a party in defiance of this fatal tempest
were shot dead at the very portal.

The Christians now found themselves in a situation of great peril.
Reinforcements must soon arrive to the enemy from Granada: unless,
therefore, they gained possession of the town in the course of the
day, they were likely to be surrounded and beleaguered, without
provisions, in the castle. Some observed that even if they took the
town they should not be able to maintain possession of it. They
proposed, therefore, to make booty of everything valuable, to sack
the castle, set it on fire, and make good their retreat to Seville.

The marques of Cadiz was of different counsel. "God has given the
citadel into Christian hands," said he; "he will no doubt strengthen
them to maintain it. We have gained the place with difficulty and
bloodshed; it would be a stain upon our honor to abandon it through
fear of imaginary dangers." The adelantado and Don Diego de
Merlo joined in his opinion, but without their earnest and united
remonstrances the place would have been abandoned, so exhausted
were the troops by forced marches and hard fighting, and so
apprehensive of the approach of the Moors of Granada.

The strength and spirits of the party within the castle were in some
degree restored by the provisions which they found. The Christian
army beneath the town, being also refreshed by a morning's repast,
advanced vigorously to the attack of the walls. They planted their
scaling-ladders, and, swarming up, sword in hand, fought fiercely
with the Moorish soldiery upon the ramparts.

In the mean time, the marques of Cadiz, seeing that the gate of the
castle, which opened toward the city, was completely commanded by
the artillery of the enemy, ordered a large breach to be made in the
wall, through which he might lead his troops to the attack, animating
them in this perilous moment by assuring them that the place should
be given up to plunder and its inhabitants made captives.

The breach being made, the marques put himself at the head of his
troops, and entered sword in hand. A simultaneous attack was make
by the Christians in every part--by the ramparts, by the gate, by
the roofs and walls which connected the castle with the town. The
Moors fought valiantly in their streets, from their windows, and from
the tops of their houses. They were not equal to the Christians in
bodily strength, for they were for the most part peaceful men, of
industrious callings, and enervated by the frequent use of the warm
bath; but they were superior in number and unconquerable in spirit;
old and young, strong and weak, fought with the same desperation.
The Moors fought for property, for liberty, for life. They fought at
their thresholds and their hearths, with the shrieks of their wives
and children ringing in their ears, and they fought in the hope that
each moment would bring aid from Granada. They regarded neither
their own wounds nor the death of their companions, but continued
fighting until they fell, and seemed as if, when they could no longer
contend, they would block up the thresholds of their beloved homes
with their mangled bodies. The Christians fought for glory, for
revenge, for the holy faith, and for the spoil of these wealthy
infidels. Success would place a rich town at their mercy; failure
would deliver them into the hands of the tyrant of Granada.

The contest raged from morning until night, when the Moors began
to yield. Retreating to a large mosque near the walls, they kept up
so galling a fire from it with lances, crossbows, and arquebuses
that for some time the Christians dared not approach. Covering
themselves, at length, with bucklers and mantelets* to protect them
from the deadly shower, the latter made their way to the mosque and
set fire to the doors. When the smoke and flames rolled in upon
them the Moors gave up all as lost. Many rushed forth desperately
upon the enemy, but were immediately slain; the rest surrendered
themselves captives.

*Mantelet--a movable parapet, made of thick planks, to protect
troops when advancing to sap or assault a walled place.


The struggle was now at an end: the town remained at the mercy of
the Christians; and the inhabitants, both male and female, became
the slaves of those who made them prisoners. Some few escaped
by a mine or subterranean way which led to the river, and concealed
themselves, their wives and children, in caves and secret places,
but in three or four days were compelled to surrender themselves
through hunger.

The town was given up to plunder, and the booty was immense.
There were found prodigious quantities of gold and silver, and
jewels and rich silks and costly stuffs of all kinds, together with
horses and beeves, and abundance of grain and oil and honey,
and all other productions of this fruitful kingdom; for in Alhama
were collected the royal rents and tributes of the surrounding
country: it was the richest town in the Moorish territory, and from
its great strength and its peculiar situation was called the key to
Granada.

Great waste and devastation were committed by the Spanish soldiery;
for, thinking it would be impossible to keep possession of the place,
they began to destroy whatever they could not take away. Immense
jars of oil were broken, costly furniture shattered to pieces, and
magazines of grain broken open and their contents scattered to the
winds. Many Christian captives who had been taken at Zahara were
found buried in a Moorish dungeon, and were triumphantly restored to
light and liberty; and a renegado Spaniard, who had often served as
guide to the Moors in their incursions into the Christian territories,
was hanged on the highest part of the battlements for the edification
of the army.