The furious spirit of the jealous Ayesha had pursued its designs with all the energy of disappointed ambition and implacable revenge. The hated slave Zoraya was now the first sultana, and had superseded her rival in royal precedence as well as in the affections of her husband. The vizier, Abul-Kasim-Venegas, the son of a noble Christian renegade, to whom the Emir, infatuated with the beautiful favorite, had resigned the direction of affairs, was practically the ruler of the kingdom. The intimacy enjoyed by these two confidants of foreign descent and detested lineage was urged as little less than treason by the scheming adherents of Ayesha. Some time previously, by the advice of the vizier, the insolence of certain chiefs of the Abencerrages had been punished by summary execution. The support of that powerful tribe was thus forever alienated from the King; its members eagerly listened to the overtures of the rebellious party; and the proud and vindictive African cavaliers expected with impatience the hour of retribution.
The reverse at Alhama was the signal for revolt. The King had scarcely returned before serious riots, led by the Abencerrages, were reported in the Albaycin. It was no secret who was really responsible for these disturbances; and Ayesha and her son Boabdil, whom, although still a youth, it was intended to place upon the throne, were promptly arrested and imprisoned in the great tower of Comares in the Alhambra. This decisive step insured the public safety for the time. The rioters dispersed, the leaders concealed themselves, and the city resumed its ordinary aspect of quiet and peace. But this apparent tranquillity was of short duration. The female slaves of Ayesha, having made a rope of their veils, lowered the young prince from a window of the tower overlooking the Darro, where the Abencerrage chieftains awaited him; and at dawn, escorted by a considerable band of horsemen, he was far on his way to Guadix, whose alcalde was one of his partisans.
Ignorant of the extent of the conspiracy or of the number of exalted personages implicated in it, Muley Hassan attached but little importance to the escape of his rebellious son. But, a few days afterwards, while the King was enjoying the luxurious seclusion of one of his suburban palaces, a great tumult arose in the city. Information was brought to him that the Abencerrages had proclaimed the sovereignty of Boabdil; that, incited by the presence of the prince and the shouts of his supporters, the populace of the Albaycin had again risen in arms; that the revolution was rapidly gaining ground and seemed about to involve the entire city; and, worse than all, that the alcalde Ibn-Comixa had raised the rebel standard on the citadel of the Alhambra. The African guards, led by the vizier, in vain attempted to stem the tide of insurrection. Muley Hassan himself, who hoped by his presence to awe the seditious multitude, was received with shouts of defiance and derision. At dawn the entire population of Granada assembled and expelled the King and his adherents, who fled in disorder to the castle of Mondujar. The friends and relatives of the dethroned monarch, apprised of his misfortune, hastened to tender their aid and sympathy. A band of five hundred was selected for an attempt to recover the capital. Attired in black, on a cloudy night, they scaled the walls of the Alhambra. Every soldier whom they encountered was put to death. The alarm spread; the garrison withdrew to the towers of the citadel; and the assailants, descending to the city, were soon engaged with the insurgents in a hand-to-hand conflict in the streets. The midnight tumult aroused the entire population, and the light of torches and tapers soon disclosed the insignificant numbers of the enemy. The citizens, animated by the consciousness of strength, by the constant arrival of reinforcements, and by the fear of punishment, fought with determined courage; and the King, after leaving more than half of his followers on the field, only escaped through the obscurity of the night. Extricating himself with difficulty from the labyrinth of narrow lanes in the suburbs, he pursued his way to Malaga, which city remained loyal to his cause. An implacable triangular struggle, in which Moslem autonomy could not fail in the end to be destroyed, was now inaugurated. Two kings and two courts, inflamed with mutual resentment, each determined, by any expedient, to accomplish the ruin of the other, were in arms. Every community was distracted by the quarrels of hostile factions. Partisan discord afflicted even the remote settlements of the Sierras. On the other side was the common enemy, aggressive, united, vigilant; more powerful in numbers, more fertile in resources, than at any former period. At no time in the history of the Moorish occupation had the demand for unanimity in the national councils been so imperative, and yet at no time had those councils been so divided. Anxiety for party success had in the minds of the infuriated Moors obliterated all concern for the public welfare. Even the semblance of patriotism, and that religious zeal more important in the eyes of the Moslem than attachment to his country, were overcome by the bitterness of factional animosity. With union and co-operation the ultimate result of the contest could not be doubtful, but it might have been prolonged, and the evil day of persecution and servitude have been deferred for perhaps another century. Under the existing political conditions, with provincial disintegration aided by foreign hostility, national ruin was swift and certain.
The Christians were quick to grasp the opportunities afforded by these dissensions. Already Ferdinand, at the head of a numerous force, had overrun the Vega, leaving behind him a smoking track of devastation. From the ramparts of Granada the Moors beheld, with impotent rage and despair, the flames of mills and farm-houses, the massacre of peasants, and the destruction of orange-groves and olive-plantations. Thousands of sheep and cattle became the spoil of the Castilians in this foray, and the supplies of Alhama, already sufficient for a siege of many months’ duration, were again replenished, this time with the plundered harvests of the unfortunate Moslems of the Vega. In spite of its massive defences, its plentiful supplies, and its numerous garrison, the retention of that place was doubtful so long as its communications with the provinces of the Spanish monarchy might be interrupted. The Vega of Granada was approached through an opening in the mountains guarded by the ancient city of Loja. Founded by Abdallah, Khalif of Cordova, it had long been regarded as one of the most important fortified places in the Peninsula. Its great castle and frowning walls imparted a forbidding aspect to the town, which was, however, more than compensated by the beautiful and picturesque environs that encircled it, not the least important of its attractions being the vineyards and olive-orchards which covered every declivity. Its irrigating system, dependent upon the Genil and other smaller streams, had been extended by the industrious inhabitants until the country, for many leagues, exhibited the highest attainable state of cultivation.
The capture of Loja was now a military necessity. While it remained in the hands of the Moors the possession of Alhama could never be absolutely secure. Once in the power of the Spaniards, an unobstructed way was opened into the Vega, and the capital itself might at any time be threatened. The governor of the city was Aliatar, who, reared amidst the quiet of mercantile pursuits, had, by the display of military ability and reckless courage, attained great renown in arms. His exploits were the theme of all Andalusia. The frequency of his marauding expeditions in the vicinity of Lucena had gained for that district the name of the “Garden of Aliatar.” Moraima, his favorite daughter, was the wife of Boabdil. For nearly two generations he had been an active spirit in every campaign against the Christians, but the accumulation of years had neither damped his ardor nor diminished his activity. His wealth was expended in the maintenance of troops and the ransom of captives. So few were the luxuries which he reserved for his family that his daughter was compelled to borrow jewels in order to appear with becoming dignity before her betrothed lover, the heir to the Moslem throne. This famous chieftain was now more than seventy years of age. Familiar with every artifice of guerilla warfare, brave even to the extreme of rashness, fertile in the resources imparted by the varied experiences of a long and adventurous career, beloved by his followers, dreaded by his enemies, it would have been difficult to find within the limits of Granada a more formidable and capable adversary than this doughty old Moslem commander.
Elated by the success of his recent expedition in the Vega, Ferdinand, expecting an easy conquest, hastened to lay siege to Loja. With only thirteen thousand men, ill-provided with the necessary equipment and without even sufficient rations to supply him for a week, on the first day of July, 1482, he encamped before the city. It was soon perceived that his army was not strong enough to even properly invest it. The inequalities of the ground, whose natural ruggedness was increased by innumerable trees and hedges, rendered it impossible for the lines to remain unbroken or for the various divisions to preserve communication with each other. On the level land and in the valley, a maze of intersecting canals made the evolutions of cavalry difficult and often impracticable. The partial isolation of the different detachments of the besieging army not only rendered them constantly liable to surprise, but diminished their confidence and greatly impaired their efficiency. The disorderly arrangement of the Spaniards, thus seriously hampered by the nature of their surroundings, was soon perceived by the Moors. Aliatar, at the head of three thousand horsemen, quietly issued from the western gate, concealed several hundred of his bravest warriors amidst the rank vegetation of the orchards, and suddenly attacked the post commanded by Don Rodrigo Giron, Master of Calatrava. The Christians, although taken unawares, defended themselves bravely; the Moors retreated in apparent confusion; and their unwary antagonists, impelled by their headlong impetuosity, were soon intercepted by the ambuscade. The retiring enemy now returned to the charge, and the Spanish knights, assailed in both front and rear, with difficulty held their ground. The Master of Calatrava, conspicuous for his gallantry as well as well as for the richness of his dress, which bore the peculiar cross of his order, became the target for a cloud of missiles, two of which having penetrated a vital part, the intrepid young cavalier fell dying from his horse. It was only by superhuman efforts that any of his followers escaped a similar fate. Many were killed and wounded, but at last the superior weight and armor of the Spaniards prevailed, and the Moorish trumpets sounded a retreat. Encumbered with the bodies of their unfortunate companions, the surviving knights returned to their encampment, where the overturned tents and broken equipage which, mingled in dire confusion, everywhere strewed the ground, attested the fierceness of an attack that had resulted so disastrously to the Christian arms. It now became evident to even the arrogant and opinionated Ferdinand that something more than military enthusiasm was necessary to successfully conduct a siege. Without reluctance he consented to withdraw to the Rio Frio until an army already on the march from Cordova to reinforce him should arrive. Want of discipline or inexcusable neglect prevented the communication of this design to the different commanders; and when, at daybreak, the tents were struck on the height of Abul-Hassan, and the vigilant Aliatar, ready for any emergency, stormed the outpost, a frightful panic arose. The exultant cries of the Moors and the appearance of their standards in the Spanish camp created the impression among the besiegers that Aliatar had been reinforced, and that they were in imminent danger of defeat and capture. The general alarm was increased by the unexpected removal of the tents of the detachment, by the memory of the prowess of their enemies and the advantage the latter had recently gained, and especially by their own lamentable want of self-reliance, inspired by their isolated position and defective discipline. The terrified infantry fled at once in a body, throwing the knights, who in vain attempted to rally them, into confusion. The Moors, planting a battery on a commanding eminence, by the accuracy of their fire increased the general disorder. Their desperate charges against the escort guarding the King, which, though outnumbered and surrounded, maintained its ground with inflexible resolution, for a time made the issue doubtful. Never during his life was Ferdinand in greater danger. His bravest captains were wounded and unhorsed. The Marquis of Cadiz, at the head of seventy knights, received undismayed the furious attack of the Moslem horsemen. Dismounted, and armed only with his sword, this gallant hero, fighting in the front of the line, performed prodigies of valor; and his followers, emulating his example, made such an obstinate resistance that the assailants, exhausted by their efforts, finally withdrew from the field. The rout of the Christian army was complete. The siege had lasted only five days. Some of the terror-stricken fugitives did not halt until they had placed a distance of twenty miles between themselves and the scene of their disgrace. Only the heroic efforts of a handful of cavaliers had saved the King from capture. For more than a league the ground was strewn with abandoned clothing, standards, and weapons. The siege-train fell into the hands of the enemy. Flushed with victory, the soldiers of Aliatar, amidst the acclamations of their countrymen, re-entered the city enriched with the spoils of the Christian camp.
The disastrous result of the attempt upon Loja filled the isolated garrison of Alhama with the direst apprehensions. It required all the address and authority of the governor, Don Luis Portocarrero, to dissuade his command from wholesale desertion. The sudden appearance of a Moorish army added to their fears, and only the prompt relief sent by Isabella preserved to the Spanish Crown this important fortress, gained at such cost, and defended with such difficulty. The Moors retired; a new garrison was introduced; and Don Juan de Vera assumed command, supported by several youthful knights who had voluntarily sought this post of danger, ambitious of adventure and distinction. Among them was Hernan Perez del Pulgar, whose career resembles that of a paladin of romance, and who was destined to great celebrity in the ensuing operations of the war with Granada.
Muley Hassan, in his palace at Malaga, had learned with indignation of the investment of Loja. Collecting his forces, he prepared to go to the aid of that city when news reached him of the repulse and withdrawal of the Christians. Deeming himself secure from interference, and bent on revenge, he descended with seventy-five hundred men upon the fertile district of Medina-Sidonia. The vicinity of Gibraltar and Algeziras, the plains of Estepona—in short, all of that region as far as the River Celemin—experienced the awful atrocities of border warfare. The operations were planned and executed with systematic regularity under the direction of the King in person. The army was divided into detachments, to each of which was assigned a separate territory as its exclusive prey. By this arrangement much time was saved, and the devastation was rendered more complete. On all sides rose the smoke of burning harvests and dwellings. From every point of the compass armed squadrons brought spoil and prisoners to the Moslem head-quarters. The cattle alone numbered more than five thousand. It was years since the Moors had secured such a booty. Impunity had relaxed the vigilance of the inhabitants of that portion of Andalusia, long exempt from the efforts of Moslem enterprise and audacity. The accumulations of industry were therefore more accessible and less diligently guarded than in localities constantly exposed to the inroads of the enemy. On his return, Muley Hassan fell into an ambuscade, where his cattle were stampeded and many of them lost; but the injury he received was trifling, and a few days afterwards he entered Malaga in triumph.
This bold achievement of the Moorish king aroused the martial emulation of the Castilian cavaliers, mortified by the triumph of an infidel foe. In March, 1483, several of the chiefs of the greatest houses of the kingdom met at Antequera, accompanied by their vassals, to agree upon a plan of campaign. The influence and obstinacy of Don Alonzo de Cardenas, Grand Master of Santiago, dominated the assembly, in opposition to the counsels of leaders of great and varied experience; and the Ajarquia, a rugged and sparsely settled district north of Malaga, which exaggerated reports had declared to be filled with innumerable herds of cattle, was selected as the object of the expedition. In a long and irregular line the adventurers entered the gloomy defiles of the Sierra. The advance guard was commanded by Don Alonzo de Aguilar; in the centre were the Count of Cifuentes and the Marquis of Cadiz; the rear, as the post of danger and honor, was in charge of the Grand Master of Santiago. As the Spaniards penetrated farther into the mountains, the aspect of the country became more and more forbidding. The paths were dangerous and uncertain. Precipitous cliffs towered far above their heads. At times the road skirted the borders of chasms whose depths were invisible and denoted only by the faint roaring of some distant torrent. Not a living thing was in sight. Everywhere the silence of desolation prevailed, and, except a few deserted hovels, there was nothing to indicate the presence of man. The soldiers, exasperated by disappointment and careless of danger, pursued their way in noisy disorder. The huts of the shepherds, set on fire by the advance guard, cast a lurid light over the gloomy landscape and disclosed the broken and scattered ranks of the Spaniards, who, in an unknown country, buried in the cavernous recesses of the mountains and surrounded by enemies, neglected to observe even the precautions of an ordinary march. The approach of night redoubled the embarrassment, already sufficiently serious. The guides, misled by a multiplicity of paths and apprehensive of danger, lost their way. All order was now at an end; the number of stragglers grew more numerous in the darkness; the main body, whose progress was impeded by the mule-train loaded with camp equipage, was thrown into confusion; and through the obscurity the signal-fires of the enemy could be seen on the mountain-tops flashing far and wide the movements of the expedition. While the trouble and turmoil were greatest, the rear guard, where the military habits of the Knights of Santiago still preserved an appearance of obedience and discipline, was attacked by the mountaineers. From inaccessible heights showers of arrows and stones of enormous size descended upon the helpless cavaliers, whose disadvantageous position did not suffer them either to defend themselves or to dislodge their enemies. As the number of the latter, summoned by the signal-fires, increased, the rest of the army became involved in the hopeless contest; where, in a contracted valley, crowded together in a struggling mass, the foolhardy band of Christian adventurers seemed devoted to inevitable destruction. Meanwhile, the chain of lights and the swiftness of agile couriers had conveyed to Malaga information of the presence of enemies in the Ajarquia. Abdallah-al-Zagal, brother of the King, and his equal in military experience and prowess, and Redwan Venegas, a distinguished chieftain, at once set out with a strong body of cavalry for the scene of action. The first ray of dawn revealed to the harassed Christians the well-armed troops of the King on the heights far above them. With almost inconceivable rapidity, considering the obstacles presented by the ground, the mountaineers for a distance of many miles had assembled in defence of their homes. All the exits of the Ajarquia were guarded. A detachment of Berbers occupied the pass on the side of the sea, prepared to intercept all who might attempt to escape in that direction. As soon as the light of day enabled the Spaniards to fully realize the extent of the peril that threatened them, they were almost ready to give way to despair. From the shelter of rock and trees, the adroit cross-bowmen of Venegas picked off with impunity all conspicuous for their dress or armor. Those who were not pierced with missiles or crushed with rocks were hurled headlong over precipices. Resistance and flight seemed equally useless. The Spaniards deserting their colors, each solicitous for his individual safety, scattered in every direction. The Grand Master of Santiago, by a resolute charge in which the most of his surviving comrades were lost, managed to reach the summit of the mountain, and, cutting his way through the astonished peasants, made his escape. Abdallah-al-Zagal, who, with the larger part of the detachment from Malaga, was posted at the only pass south of the Ajarquia, intercepted a small band of fugitives whose broken weapons and battered armor indicated the desperate peril to which they had recently been exposed. Among these were the Marquis of Cadiz, Alonzo de Aguilar, and the Count of Cifuentes. Unable to advance farther, by dint of strenuous efforts they maintained their position until night. Then the Marquis, guided by a resolute and experienced scout in his service, threaded the dangerous paths of the sierra and finally reached Antequera. The Count of Cifuentes was surrounded and taken. Alonzo de Aguilar and his companions concealed themselves in caves and thickets, remaining quiet by day and travelling at night, subsisting upon roots and herbs, until they succeeded in joining their countrymen at the frontier outposts. For many days the unfortunate Castilians, one by one, their arms and armor lost, their clothes torn to rags, gaunt with famine, tottering with fatigue, straggled, half-demented, into the cities of Alhama and Antequera. Of the entire number who had enlisted in the hazardous enterprise less than half escaped. Nearly a hundred were killed. Eight hundred and twenty-five were carried captive to Malaga. Four hundred of those highest in rank were set aside for ransom. Two hundred more were imprisoned in the dungeons of Granada and Ronda. Among the dead were two brothers of the Marquis of Cadiz, Gomez Mendez de Sotomayor, Governor of Utrera, and many other noblemen of illustrious rank. More than thirty commanders of the Order of Santiago perished or were captured. So great was the terror of the Christians who strayed aimlessly through the defiles and along the slopes of the mountains, that in many cases four or five surrendered to a single unarmed enemy. Even the peasant women made prisoners of fugitives overcome with terror and weakness whom they encountered in the suburbs of Malaga. The booty was increased by the large sums of money intrusted to the soldiers by their friends for the purchase of cattle, slaves, and jewels, in the expectation of certain victory and abundant spoil. Nothing in the annals of Spanish conquest indicates its mercenary character more clearly than this significant circumstance. The devout chroniclers, lamenting the avarice of their countrymen, refer to this crushing defeat as a manifest proof of the wrath of Providence. The example of Alhama had induced the Spaniards to consider their arms as invincible. The treasure found in that city had aroused the cupidity of every adventurer in the Peninsula. This overweening confidence had now received a serious check. In all the cities of Andalusia there was distress and mourning; in the court unconcealed dismay; in nearly every family the anguish of suffering or the more harrowing bitterness of suspense. A fatal blow had been struck at Spanish prestige. The affair of the Ajarquia, following closely upon the repulse at Loja, had not only tarnished the lustre of their arms, but had diminished the estimate in which the Catholic sovereigns were held in Europe. Less than six hundred peasants were engaged in the fight which terminated in the rout of the Andalusian nobles, who, with their retainers, outnumbered their assailants seven to one. The banners, the emblazoned surcoats, the magnificent harnesses, the war-horses, followed by the most illustrious captives in chains, were exhibited, for the exultation of the people and the glory of Al-Zagal, in the cities of Ronda, Loja, Malaga, and Granada. The prisoners not considered valuable enough to be reserved for ransom and the camp followers and traders, who expected anything but this result, were sold at auction with the equipage, the mules, and the other spoils of war.
These successive military exploits of Muley Hassan contributed greatly to his popularity and imparted a prodigious impulse to his cause. Many adventurous spirits of the kingdom, who had hitherto held aloof, now joined his standard. The defection of a number of influential partisans, attracted to Malaga by the prospect of plunder and renown, alarmed the faction of Boabdil, who, heedless of the perils that menaced his country, remained shamefully inert in the paradise of the Alhambra. Forced at length to action by the indignant remonstrances of his mother and the Abencerrages, who daily observed the evidences of his waning power, he reluctantly prepared for a foray into the land of the Christians. The frontiers of Cordova were selected as the scene of operations, for the lords of that territory had nearly all been left on the field of the Ajarquia or were still immured in Moorish dungeons. At the head of nine thousand infantry and seven hundred cavalry, the Moslem prince took his departure from Granada. With ill-advised ostentation the army proceeded to Loja, where Aliatar joined it with a squadron of veterans, whose experience was of far more practical value than the vainglorious array of young cavaliers who formed the splendid bodyguard of the King. Unlike his father, whose plans were carried out with the silence and rapidity which insure success, Boabdil displayed in his march all the pomp and deliberation of a royal progress. Indebted to his folly and inexperience, the Christians, fully apprised of his movements, were already prepared for his reception. A small but resolute body of cavaliers under Don Diego Fernandez de Cordova, Alcalde de los Donceles, had been collected at Lucena. The Moors, having passed the Genil and ravaged the districts of Montilla and Aguilar, marching in disorder and encumbered with booty, directed their course towards that place, with a view of taking it by storm. On the twentieth of April the Castilian signals announced the proximity of the enemy. The city of Lucena was not adapted, either by reason of formidable defences or of a numerous population, to offer a prolonged resistance to such an army as now threatened it. The citizens, accustomed to border alarms, behaved with the utmost intrepidity. An attack of the Moors was repulsed with great loss. In retaliation for this unexpected result, the orchards in the vicinity were cut down and every building that could be reached destroyed. This work of ruin accomplished, a peremptory demand to surrender was sent to the governor. The latter, aware of the approach of the Count of Cabra with reinforcements, temporized with the Moslems until their scouts advised them that the Christian banners were in sight, when, unwilling to risk the loss of their plunder, they retired slowly towards the Genil. The Spaniards, though greatly inferior in number, were unwilling to abandon the present opportunity for an engagement upon more equal terms, and followed closely the retreating Moslems. Dividing their forces near the river, one detachment was sent forward to surprise the vanguard,—which was conducting the flocks and the captives,—while the remainder harassed the rear. Thus attacked on every side, where the dense forest concealed the insignificant numbers of the enemy, the Moors, unaccustomed to the restraints of discipline, became terror-stricken and fled. The efforts of Boabdil and his commanders to rally them were fruitless. A frightful massacre resulted; the fugitives were pierced with lances or trampled under the hoofs of the charging squadrons; on the banks of the stream, already heaped up with the dead, hundreds sank under the strokes of the heavy Toledo blades. With conspicuous gallantry, Boabdil and Aliatar, supported by a handful of followers, attempted to check the irresistible onset of their foes. Oppressed by the weight of numbers, the veteran Moslem captain was cut down, and his body, swept away by the swift current of the Genil, was never seen again. The magnificent appearance of the King; his damascened armor and cloak of crimson velvet embroidered with gold; the rich caparison of his horse; the beauty of his weapons, indicating a person of distinction, made him the target for a thousand missiles. Pierced with a shot, his horse fell under him. Mingled with a crowd of foot-soldiers, who were pressing on to the river, he found his progress obstructed by a pile of cattle, which during the confusion of the rout had been trampled to death in the mire. The impetuosity of the pursuers admitted of no delay, and the distressed fugitive, turning aside, attempted to conceal himself among the laurels and brambles that lined the banks of the stream. His showy costume betrayed him, and he was at once intercepted by Martin Hurtado, a petty official of Lucena, who, after a slight resistance, effected his capture. While his identity was unsuspected, his exalted rank was evident; and the comrades of Hurtado, desirous of sharing the ransom of such a distinguished personage, attempted to deprive him of the credit of the exploit. A serious altercation ensued, and the soldiery prepared to establish their rival pretensions by force of arms, when the opportune arrival of the Alcalde de los Donceles ended the dispute. Interposing his authority, he caused the illustrious prisoner to be conducted to Lucena, where, although closely guarded, he was treated with the greatest respect until an investigation might establish his rank and determine the sum to be exacted for his release.