CHAPTER LXII

Chronicle of the Conquest of Granada

by Washington Irving

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

HOW THE PEOPLE OF MALAGA EXPOSTULATED WITH HAMET EL ZEGRI.


While the dervise was deluding the garrison of Malaga with vain hopes
the famine increased to a terrible degree. The Gomeres ranged about
the city as though it had been a conquered place, taking by force
whatever they found eatable in the houses of the peaceful citizens,
and breaking open vaults and cellars and demolishing walls wherever
they thought provisions might be concealed.

The wretched inhabitants had no longer bread to eat; the horse-
flesh also now failed them, and they were fain to devour skins and
hides toasted at the fire, and to assuage the hunger of their children
with vine-leaves cut up and fried in oil. Many perished of famine or
of the unwholesome food with which they endeavored to relieve it,
and many took refuge in the Christian camp, preferring captivity to
the horrors which surrounded them.

At length the sufferings of the inhabitants became so great as to
conquer even their fears of Hamet and his Gomeres. They assembled
before the house of Ali Dordux, the wealthy merchant, whose stately
mansion was at the foot of the hill of the Alcazaba, and they urged
him to stand forth as their leader and to intercede with Hamet for a
surrender. Ali Dordux was a man of courage as well as policy; he
perceived also that hunger was giving boldness to the citizens,
while he trusted it was subduing the fierceness of the soldiery. He
armed himself, therefore, cap-a-pie, and undertook this dangerous
parley with the alcayde. He associated with him an alfaqui named
Abraham Alhariz and an important inhabitant named Amar ben Amar,
and they ascended to the fortress of Gibralfaro, followed by several
of the trembling merchants.

They found Hamet el Zegri, not, as before, surrounded by ferocious
guards and all the implements of war, but in a chamber of one of
the lofty towers, at a table of stone covered with scrolls traced with
strange characters and mystic diagrams, while instruments of singular
and unknown form lay about the room. Beside Hamet stood the
prophetic dervise, who appeared to have been explaining to him
the mysterious inscriptions of the scrolls. His presence filled the
citizens with awe, for even Ali Dordux considered him a man inspired.

The alfaqui, Abraham Alhariz, whose sacred character gave him
boldness to speak, now lifted up his voice and addressed Hamet el
Zegri. "We implore thee," said he, solemnly, "in the name of the
most powerful God, no longer to persist in a vain resistance which
must end in our destruction, but deliver up the city while clemency
is yet to be obtained. Think how many of our warriors have fallen by

the sword; do not suffer those who survive to perish by famine. Our
wives and children cry to us for bread, and we have none to give
them. We see them expire in lingering agony before our eyes, while
the enemy mocks our misery by displaying the abundance of his camp.
Of what avail is our defence? Are our walls, peradventure, more
strong than the walls of Ronda? Are our warriors more brave than the
defenders of Loxa? The walls of Ronda were thrown down and the
warriors of Loxa had to surrender. Do we hope for succor?--whence
are we to receive it? The time for hope is gone by. Granada has lost
its power; it no longer possesses chivalry, commanders, nor a king.
Boabdil sits a vassal in the degraded halls of the Alhambra; El
Zagal is a fugitive, shut up within the walls of Guadix. The kingdom
is divided against itself--its strength is gone, its pride fallen, its very
existence at an end. In the name of Allah we conjure thee, who art
our captain, be not our direst enemy, but surrender these ruins of
our once-happy Malaga and deliver us from these overwhelming
horrors."

Such was the supplication forced from the inhabitants by the
extremity of their sufferings. Hamet listened to the alfaqui without
anger, for he respected the sanctity of his office. His heart too
was at that moment lifted up with a vain confidence. "Yet a few
days of patience," said he, "and all these evils will suddenly have
an end. I have been conferring with this holy man, and find that
the time of our deliverance is at hand. The decrees of fate are
inevitable; it is written in the book of destiny that we shall sally
forth and destroy the camp of the unbelievers, and banquet upon
those mountains of grain which are piled up in the midst of it. So
Allah hath promised by the mouth of this his prophet. Allah Akbar!
God is great! Let no man oppose the decrees of Heaven!"

The citizens bowed with profound reverence, for no true Moslem
pretends to struggle against whatever is written in the book of
fate. Ali Dordux, who had come prepared to champion the city and
to brave the ire of Hamet, humbled himself before this holy man
and gave faith to his prophecies as the revelations of Allah. So the
deputies returned to the citizens, and exhorted them to be of good
cheer. "A few days longer," said they, "and our sufferings are to
terminate. When the white banner is removed from the tower, then
look out for deliverance, for the hour of sallying forth will have
arrived." The people retired to their homes with sorrowful hearts;
they tried in vain to quiet the cries of their famishing children, and
day by day and hour by hour their anxious eyes were turned to
the sacred banner, which still continued to wave on the tower of
Gibralfaro.