CHAPTER XIII
It is certainly extraordinary that a king, so well informed and cautious as Philip II, did not foresee at once the terrible consequences which the rebellion of the Moors of Granada in 1568 might have for Spain and for all Christendom. And it is the more surprising considering that all nations, alarmed from the beginning, never removed their eyes off that corner of the Alpujarras and took precautions according as the defeat or triumph of the rebels suited their interests. The rebels triumphant and the shores of Andalucia open to the "Berberiscos," Moors and Turks who favoured and encouraged them, would make realisable the treasured dream of Selim II of subjugating Spain, a not impossible task for the formidable power of the Turk at that time.
The rebellion had been well prepared beforehand, but it broke out suddenly, as flames fanned by the gentlest wind may burst out from a heap of dry wood which has long lain on embers.
It was whispered in Granada that the Moors of the Albaicin had joined with those of the Vega and the Alpujarras to invade the town and behead the old Christians, and it was held for certain that they were in treaty with the Kings of Algiers and Tunis and Selim's Turks to raise their standards and make over the kingdom to them. All in Granada was consequently suspicion, want of confidence and of trust: houses shut up, shops deserted, commerce with the neighbouring places interrupted and the people always nervous and cautious, taking refuge every moment in the Alhambra and the churches, as being the strongest places.
Things were in this state on the 16th of April, 1568, Easter Eve; the night was closing in, dark and rainy, when between eight and nine o'clock suddenly the bell of the fortress of the Alhambra began to ring the alarm furiously. Fear was everywhere, which was even more increased by hearing the sentinel who rang cry, terrified, "Christians, save yourselves. Look out for yourselves, Christians! This night you are to be beheaded."
The confusion was dreadful; half-dressed women threw themselves even from the windows; men came out buttoning their jackets and clothes and trooped to charge the arquebuses and get ready the crossbows. The brothers of St. Francis arrived at the square all armed with arquebuses, and other friars formed up before the "Audiencia Real" in a company with pikes and halberds.
There also hurried up, each one as he could, the Corregidor, the President of the Chancellery, D. Pedro Deza, and the Conde de Tendella, Captain-General in the absence of his father the Marqués de Mondejar, and then it was known to be a false alarm.
The alguacil Bartolme de Santa Maria, who was on guard, had sent four soldiers at nightfall to the tower of the Aceituno on the top of the hill on which the suburb of the Albaicin was situated; the night was extremely dark; the soldiers had torches of esparto grass to light them, and arriving at the foot of the tower, the ascent to which was open and difficult, those who first gained the summit waved their torches to give light to those who were climbing up, and when they had arrived, threw the torches down. The watchman on the Vela tower, seeing this movement of lights and thinking that the Moors of the Albaicin were making "almenares," that is signals to those of the Vega from the tower of the Aceituno, hastened to ring the tocsin; which showed the state of excitement of those souls and how much they certainly feared from one moment to another that the Moors intended to slay the Christians.
This simple explanation did not quiet the frightened people, and the crowd began to attack the Albaicin and to be beforehand with the Moors by killing them. So the Corregidor, with gentlemen and other trustworthy persons, then guarded the lanes which mounted up to the Albaicin to impede the passage of the crowd. But nothing would have stopped the pillage and bloodshed, if a violent storm of thunder and lightning had not come at that moment to clear the streets and damp the fury of the citizens.