CHAPTER XLVII

Chronicle of the Conquest of Granada

by Washington Irving

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

HOW KING FERDINAND LAID SIEGE TO VELEZ MALAGA.


Hitherto the events of this renowned war have been little else than
a succession of brilliant but brief exploits, such as sudden forays,
wild skirmishes among the mountains, and the surprisals of castles,
fortresses, and frontier towns. We approach now to more important
and prolonged operations, in which ancient and mighty cities, the
bulwarks of Granada, were invested by powerful armies, subdued by
slow and regular sieges, and thus the capital left naked and alone.

The glorious triumphs of the Christian sovereigns (says Fray Antonio
Agapida) had resounded throughout the East and filled all
heathenesse with alarm. The Grand Turk, Bajazet II., and his deadly
foe, the grand soldan of Egypt, suspending for a time their bloody
feuds, entered into a league to protect the religion of Mahomet and
the kingdom of Granada from the hostilities of the Christians. It
was concerted between them that Bajazet should send a powerful
armada against the island of Sicily, then appertaining to the
Spanish Crown, for the purpose of distracting the attention of the
Castilian sovereigns, while at the same time great bodies of troops
should be poured into Granada from the opposite coast of Africa.

Ferdinand and Isabella received timely intelligence of these
designs. They resolved at once to carry the war into the sea-
board of Granada, to possess themselves of its ports, and thus,
as it were, to bar the gates of the kingdom against all external aid.
Malaga was to be the main object of attack: it was the principal
seaport of the kingdom, and almost necessary to its existence. It
had long been the seat of opulent commerce, sending many ships
to the coasts of Syria and Egypt. It was also the great channel of
communication with Africa, through which were introduced supplies
of money, troops, arms, and steeds from Tunis, Tripoli, Fez, Tremezan,
and other Barbary powers. It was emphatically called, therefore,
"the hand and mouth of Granada." Before laying siege to this
redoubtable city, however, it was deemed necessary to secure the
neighboring city of Velez Malaga and its dependent places, which
might otherwise harass the besieging army.

For this important campaign the nobles of the kingdom were again
summoned to take the field with their forces in the spring of 1487.
The menaced invasion of the infidel powers of the East had awakened
new ardor in the bosoms of all true Christian knights, and so zealously
did they respond to the summons of the sovereigns that an army of
twenty thousand cavalry and fifty thousand foot, the flower of Spanish
warriors, led by the bravest of Spanish cavaliers, thronged the
renowned city of Cordova at the appointed time.

On the night before this mighty host set forth upon its march an
earthquake shook the city. The inhabitants, awakened by the shaking
of the walls and rocking of the towers, fled to the courts and
squares, fearing to be overwhelmed by the ruins of their dwellings.
The earthquake was most violent in the quarter of the royal residence,
the site of the ancient palace of the Moorish kings. Many looked upon
this as an omen of some impending evil; but Fray Antonio Agapida, in
that infallible spirit of divination which succeeds an event, plainly
reads in it a presage that the empire of the Moors was about to be
shaken to its centre.

It was on Saturday, the eve of the Sunday of Palms (says a worthy
and loyal chronicler of the time), that the most Catholic monarch
departed with his army to render service to Heaven and make war
upon the Moors.* Heavy rains had swelled all the streams and
rendered the roads deep and difficult. The king, therefore, divided
his host into two bodies. In one he put all the artillery, guarded
by a strong body of horse, and commanded by the master of Alcantara
and Martin Alonso, senior of Montemayor. This division was to proceed
by the road through the valleys, where pasturage abounded for the
oxen which drew the ordnance.

*Pulgar, Cronica de los Reyes Catholicos.


The main body of the army was led by the king in person. It was
divided into numerous battalions, each commanded by some
distinguished cavalier. The king took the rough and perilous road of
the mountains, and few mountains are more rugged and difficult than
those of Andalusia. The roads are mere mule-paths straggling amidst
rocks and along the verge of precipices, clambering vast craggy
heights, or descending into frightful chasms and ravines, with scanty
and uncertain foothold for either man or steed. Four thousand
pioneers were sent in advance, under the alcayde de los Donceles, to
conquer in some degree the asperities of the road. Some had pickaxes
and crowbars to break the rocks, others had implements to construct
bridges over the mountain-torrents, while it was the duty of others
to lay stepping-stones in the smaller streams. As the country was
inhabited by fierce Moorish mountaineers, Don Diego de Castrillo was
despatched with a body of horse and foot to take possession of the
heights and passes. Notwithstanding every precaution, the royal army
suffered excessively on its march. At one time there was no place to
encamp for five leagues of the most toilsome and mountainous country,
and many of the beasts of burden sank down and perished on the road.

It was with the greatest joy, therefore, that the royal army emerged
from these stern and frightful defiles, and came to where they looked
down upon the vega of Velez Malaga. The region before them was
one of the most delectable to the eye that ever was ravaged by an
army. Sheltered from every rude blast by a screen of mountains, and
sloping and expanding to the south, this lovely valley was quickened
by the most generous sunshine, watered by the silver meanderings
of the Velez, and refreshed by cooling breezes from the Mediterranean.
The sloping hills were covered with vineyards and olive trees; the
distant fields waved with grain or were verdant with pasturage; while
round the city were delightful gardens, the favorite retreats of the
Moors, where their white pavilions gleamed among groves of oranges,
citrons, and pomegranates, and were surrounded by stately palms--
those plants of southern growth bespeaking a generous climate and
a cloudless sky.

In the upper part of this delightful valley the city of Velez Malaga
reared its warrior battlements in stern contrast to the landscape.
It was built on the declivity of a steep and insulated hill, and
strongly fortified by walls and towers. The crest of the hill rose
high above the town into a mere crag, inaccessible on every other
side, and crowned by a powerful castle, which domineered over
the surrounding country. Two suburbs swept down into the valley
from the skirts of the town, and were defended by bulwarks and
deep ditches. The vast ranges of gray mountains, often capped with
clouds, which rose to the north, were inhabited by a hardy and warlike
race, whose strong fortresses of Comares, Canillas, Competa, and
Benamargosa frowned down from cragged heights.

When the Christian host arrived in sight of this valley, a squadron
was hovering on the smooth sea before it displaying the banner of
Castile. This was commanded by the count of Trevento, and consisted
of four armed galleys, convoying a number of caravels laden with
supplies for the army.

After surveying the ground, King Ferdinand encamped on the side of
a mountain which advanced close to the city, and was the last of a
rugged sierra, or chain of heights, that extended quite to Granada.
On the summit of this mountain, and overlooking the camp, was a
Moorish town, powerfully fortified, called Bentomiz, considered capable
of yielding great assistance to Velez Malaga. Several of the generals
remonstrated with the king for choosing a post so exposed to assaults
from the mountaineers, but he replied that he should thus cut off all
communication between Bentomiz and the city, and that, as to the
danger, his soldiers must keep the more vigilant guard against surprise.

King Ferdinand rode about, attended by several cavaliers and a small
number of cuirassiers, appointing the various stations of the camp.
Having directed a body of foot-soldiers to possess themselves, as
an advanced guard, of an important height which overlooked the
city, he retired to a tent to take refreshment. While at table he was
startled by a sudden uproar, and, looking forth, beheld his soldiers
flying before a superior force of the enemy. The king had on no
other armor but a cuirass: seizing a lance, however, he sprang upon
his horse and galloped to protect the fugitives, followed by his
handful of knights and cuirassiers. When the soldiers saw the king
hastening to their aid, they turned upon their pursuers. Ferdinand
in his eagerness threw himself into the midst of the foe. One of his
grooms was killed beside him, but before the Moor who slew him
could escape the king transfixed him with his lance. He then sought
to draw his sword, which hung at his saddle-bow, but in vain. Never
had he been exposed to such peril; he was surrounded by the enemy
without a weapon wherewith to defend himself.

In this moment of awful jeopardy the marques of Cadiz, the count
de Cabra, the adelantado of Murcia, with two other cavaliers, named
Garcilasso de la Vega and Diego de Atayde, came galloping to the
scene of action, and, surrounding the king, made a rampart of their
bodies against the assaults of the Moors. The horse of the marques
was pierced by an arrow, and that worthy cavalier exposed to
imminent danger; but with the aid of his valorous companions he
quickly put the enemy to flight, and pursued them with slaughter
to the very gates of the city.

When those loyal warriors returned from the pursuit they
remonstrated with the king for exposing his life in personal conflict,
seeing that he had so many valiant captains whose business it was
to fight. They reminded him that the life of a prince was the life of
his people, and that many a brave army was lost by the loss of its
commander. They entreated him, therefore, in future to protect
them with the force of his mind in the cabinet, rather than of his
arm in the field.

Ferdinand acknowledged the wisdom of their advice, but declared
that he could not see his people in peril without venturing his
person to assist them--a reply (say the old chroniclers) which
delighted the whole army, inasmuch as they saw that he not only
governed them as a good king, but protected them as a valiant
captain. He, however, was conscious of the extreme peril to which
he had been exposed, and made a vow never again to venture into
battle without having his sword girt to his side.*

*Illescas, Hist. Pontif., lib. 6, c. 20; Vedmar, Hist. Velez Malaga.


When this achievement of the king was related to Isabella, she
trembled amidst her joy at his safety, and afterward, in memorial
of the event, granted to Velez Malaga, as the arms of the city, the
figure of the king on horseback, with a groom lying dead at his feet
and the Moors flying.*

*Ibid.


The camp was formed, but the artillery was yet on the road,
advancing with infinite labor at the rate of merely a league a day,
for heavy rains had converted the streams of the valleys into raging
torrents and completely broken up the roads. In the mean time, King
Ferdinand ordered an assault on the suburbs of the city. They were
carried after a sanguinary conflict of six hours, in which many
Christian cavaliers were killed and wounded, and among the latter
Don Alvaro of Portugal, son of the duke of Braganza. The suburbs
were then fortified toward the city with trenches and palisades, and
garrisoned by a chosen force under Don Fadrique de Toledo. Other
trenches were digged round the city and from the suburbs to the
royal camp, so as to cut off all communication with the surrounding
country.

Bodies of troops were also sent to take possession of the mountain-
passes by which the supplies for the army had to be brought. The
mountains, however, were so steep and rugged, and so full of defiles
and lurking-places, that the Moors could sally forth and retreat in
perfect security, frequently swooping down upon Christian convoys
and bearing off both booty and prisoners to their strongholds.
Sometimes the Moors would light fires at night on the sides of the
mountains, which would be answered by fires from the watch-towers
and fortresses. By these signals they would concert assaults upon
the Christian camp, which in consequence was obliged to be continually
on the alert.

King Ferdinand flattered himself that the manifestation of his force
had struck sufficient terror into the city, and that by offers of
clemency it might be induced to capitulate. He wrote a letter,
therefore, to the commanders, promising, in case of immediate
surrender, that all the inhabitants should be permitted to depart
with their effects, but threatening them with fire and sword if they
persisted in defence. This letter was despatched by a cavalier named
Carvajal, who, putting it on the end of a lance, reached it to the
Moors on the walls of the city. Abul Cacim Vanegas, son of Reduan,
and alcayde of the fortress, replied that the king was too noble and
magnanimous to put such a threat in execution, and that he should
not surrender, as he knew the artillery could not be brought to the
camp, and he was promised succor by the king of Granada.

At the same time that he received this reply the king learnt that
at the strong town of Comares, upon a height about two leagues
distant from the camp, a large number of warriors had assembled
from the Axarquia, the same mountains in which the Christian
cavaliers had been massacred in the beginning of the war, and
that others were daily expected, for this rugged sierra was capable
of furnishing fifteen thousand fighting-men.

King Ferdinand felt that his army, thus disjoined and enclosed in an
enemy's country, was in a perilous situation, and that the utmost
discipline and vigilance were necessary. He put the camp under the
strictest regulations, forbidding all gaming, blasphemy, or brawl,
and expelling all loose women and their attendant bully ruffians,
the usual fomenters of riot and contention among soldiery. He
ordered that none should sally forth to skirmish without permission
from their commanders; that none should set fire to the woods on
the neighboring mountains; and that all word of security given to
Moorish places or individuals should be inviolably observed. These
regulations were enforced by severe penalties, and had such salutary
effect that, though a vast host of various people was collected
together, not an opprobrious epithet was heard nor a weapon
drawn in quarrel.

In the mean time the cloud of war continued to gather about the
summits of the mountains, and multitudes of the fierce warriors of
the sierra descended to the lower heights of Bentomiz, which
overhung the camp, intending to force their way to the city. A
detachment was sent against them, which, after sharp fighting,
drove them to the higher cliffs, where it was impossible to pursue
them.

Ten days had elapsed since the encampment of the army, yet still the
artillery had not arrived. The lombards and other heavy ordnance
were left in despair at Antiquera; the rest came groaning slowly
through the narrow valleys, which were filled with long trains of
artillery and cars laden with munitions. At length part of the smaller
ordnance arrived within half a league of the camp, and the Christians
were animated with the hopes of soon being able to make a regular
attack upon the fortifications of the city.