A numerous army was collected at Cordova during the first days of June, 1484. The train of artillery which was to accompany it was the most complete and powerful that the imperfect knowledge of ordnance possessed by that age was capable of providing. Experience had taught the Spaniards that the most substantial masonry could not stand against the ponderous projectiles of the clumsy, ill-aimed lombards. The principal difficulty to be encountered in the prosecution of military operations was in the transportation of these heavy pieces. The use of wheels for cannon was unknown, and they had to be painfully dragged by long teams of oxen or by the combined efforts of hundreds of men. In Andalusia the highways were none of the best; in the mountainous regions, where the cannon were required, it was necessary to clear away obstacles and to build roads to allow their passage. The time was favorable for an invasion by the Christians. The truce secured the neutrality and, if demanded, the active co-operation of Boabdil. Muley Hassan, old and broken by infirmity, blind and helpless, lay inert in the Alhambra. Universal depression and apathy, aroused only by the apprehension of more serious disasters and the dismal foreboding of impending ruin, hung over the land. The bravest champions of the monarchy had been slain in the bloody scenes of internecine strife or in the skirmishes of unsuccessful expeditions. The superior prowess of the odious infidel began to be reluctantly acknowledged; famine, in a region of proverbial fertility, grew imminent; and the hostile partisans, eager to cast upon each other the blame of which all were equally culpable, indulged in the most bitter recriminations.
The campaign was opened by the siege of Alora, whose walls were soon demolished by the fire of the Spanish artillery, and many neighboring places of inferior importance surrendered without a blow. The capitulation of Setenil followed, and the Christians, emboldened by success and confident of impunity, carried their ravages to the very environs of the three great cities which represented the royal dignity of Muley Hassan, and where had long been concentrated the wealth, the culture, the commerce, and the valor which had exalted the civilization and maintained the existence of the few remaining provinces of the Moorish empire.
The invading army, with banners displayed and ready for action, advanced to a point one mile from the capital. The beautiful suburbs of that city, already described in these pages, were now ruthlessly sacrificed to the stern necessities of war. Not only was every tree levelled with the ground, but every sign of vegetation was obliterated, not even a leaf or a blade of grass escaped. An area of more than a hundred square miles was burned. The threshing-floors were torn up and great stores of grain consumed by fire. The mosques, the villas, and the towers scattered through the Vega underwent a similar fate. For a distance of two leagues in all directions from Granada every evidence of human occupation was blotted out, and the landscape assumed the aspect of a charred and blackened wilderness. While the Spanish king was thus employed in the vicinity of the Moorish capital, the Duke of Medina-Sidonia and the Count of Cabra had wasted with fire and sword the districts of Loja and Jimena. In the short space of forty days greater and more permanent injury was inflicted on the country than during any corresponding period for eight centuries, diversified as they had been by the struggles of mighty nations for supremacy, by the inroads of Mauritanian savages, by the sanguinary ambition of adventurous usurpers, and by the prolonged and ruthless atrocities of many successive revolutions. Nor did even temporary relief result from the withdrawal of the invading force. The governors of the captured towns were ordered to pursue the enemy with unremitting hostility. In vain did the despairing Moors offer vast sums of gold, the release of all captives, the delivery of hostages, if their homes and their remaining means of subsistence might only be spared. In vain did the once haughty King, who, from the very palace where he now lay oppressed with old age and blindness, had returned a message of mortal defiance when summoned to pay tribute—now a pathetic example of the uncertainty of human aspirations and the instability of earthly grandeur—descend to the humiliation of requesting as a favor what he had formerly indignantly rejected as an insult in terms of hatred and menace. In vain did the infuriated peasantry, rendered desperate by the prospect of starvation and beggary and by the failure to propitiate their relentless foes, attempt a resistance which might formerly have arrested the tide of destruction, but now only aggravated their misery. Conscious of their superiority, the Catholic sovereigns refused even the slightest concession to an adversary whom they considered already in their power.
Meanwhile, the cause of Boabdil, who maintained at Almeria the shadow of royalty and the empty ceremonial of a court, was daily losing ground. His close relations with the national enemy, who constantly provided him with money and with the supplies which the abhorrence of his subjects withheld, his absolute want of filial affection, and the fact that his unnatural revolt had been the immediate cause of all the evils which afflicted the monarchy, so impaired his influence that his orders were reluctantly obeyed in the very apartments of his palace. A correspondence was opened between some disaffected faquis of Almeria and Abdallah-al-Zagal, who was de facto regent of the kingdom, then resident at Malaga. That redoubtable warrior, with his African guards, was secretly introduced into the city at night. A tumult arose; the governor was killed in the confusion which ensued; and the partisans of Muley Hassan, almost without resistance, added to his dominions the rich and populous seaport of Almeria. The seizure of the city was not the sole object of the intrepid old warrior. Sword in hand, and followed by his escort, he entered the palace and sought the apartments of Boabdil. He found them empty; but continuing his search he encountered the young Abul-Haxig, brother of the King, and the fearless Ayesha, who overwhelmed him with abuse and reproaches. Infuriated by the failure to secure his nephew, who, awakened by the noise, had become alarmed and fled, he wreaked his vengeance upon the youthful prince, whom he cut down with his scimetar; Ayesha was placed in close confinement; and every Abencerrage prominent in rank or distinguished by reputation who fell into his hands was unceremoniously put to death.
Accompanied by a handful of attendants, Boabdil escaped to the frontier, and sought the protection of the Christian court. The supplications of the exile were heard with sympathy, but they scarcely accelerated the preparations for the campaign already determined upon. With a force of twenty-nine thousand men, Ferdinand laid siege to Coin. The fortifications had been already shaken by the artillery fire when Hamet-al-Zegri, Alcalde of Ronda, at the head of a squadron of African cavalry, cut his way through the lines and entered the city. Encouraged by this reinforcement, the inhabitants redoubled their efforts. A strong party led by Pedro Ruiz de Alarcon, which had become entangled in the narrow streets, was annihilated. But personal valor and heroism could avail nothing against the huge balls of stone that, fired from the lombards, crushed into shapeless ruin every obstacle they encountered. Favorable terms of capitulation were asked for and readily granted. The citizens deserted their homes and sought the hospitality of their kinsmen; and the valiant Hamet-al-Zegri, at the head of his veteran troop of Mauritanian horsemen, grimly and in silence traversed the enemy’s lines and repaired to the seat of his government in the castle of Ronda.
To that city the attention of Ferdinand and Isabella was now directed. The difficulties which must attend its siege were apparently insuperable. It was everywhere recognized as the strongest fortress in the Peninsula. Built upon a rocky eminence, one-half of its circumference was protected by an abyss two hundred feet wide and three hundred and fifty in depth, whose walls, overhanging or perpendicular, defied all efforts to ascend them; the other was enclosed by fortifications of gigantic dimensions and apparently impenetrable solidity. A great citadel, commanding all, towered far above the roofs of the surrounding buildings. Without artillery the place was impregnable, and the transportation of ordnance through a range of mountains of proverbial ruggedness was a task sufficient to tax to the utmost the resources of the Spanish engineers. Roads must be constructed, forests levelled, paths cut through the rock, frightful ravines bridged, before the lombards could be trained upon the mighty defences of the city.
The greatest reliance of Ronda was not so much upon the peculiar advantages of its situation as upon the character of its defenders. It furnished the best cross-bowmen in the Moslem armies. Even the boys were expert marksmen, having been familiar with the use of that formidable arm from early childhood. The inhabitants of the Sierra were noted for their activity, their courage, and their indomitable ferocity. The peasantry, who ordinarily adopted the avocation of shepherds, were hardened by daily exposure and the constant presence of danger to the endurance of every privation. The famous Hamet-al-Zegri, who had, with unshaken loyalty and distinguished courage, long upheld the cause of Muley Hassan, was, as previously stated, the governor of the city; and a numerous band of Gomeres—those African warriors so conspicuous in the closing scenes of the Reconquest, and whose prowess had already been so often exhibited in the present war—composed the garrison.
Uncertain at first whether it would be more advantageous to attack Ronda or Malaga, Ferdinand, having again advanced into the mountains, made a reconnoissance in force near the latter city. The warmth of his reception and the multitude of armed men who appeared on the ramparts and took part in the skirmishes convinced him that the siege of Malaga at that time would be too hazardous, and might fail of success. Information of the approach of the Christians had attracted for the distance of leagues thousands of fighting mountaineers. Among them were many from the vicinity of Ronda, including the governor himself and most of his command, and a number of citizens who little suspected that their own homes would soon be in danger. With characteristic astuteness, Ferdinand concealed the plan of the campaign from all but a few of his commanders. It was generally supposed in the army that the destination of the expedition was Loja. An advance guard of eleven thousand men under the Marquis of Cadiz was despatched by forced marches to blockade the city of Ronda, and prevent its being reinforced or supplied with provisions. On the arrival of the main body the lines were permanently intrenched, ditches were excavated, and the approaches to the camp of the besiegers fortified by the carts used for the transportation of supplies. On the eighth of May, batteries stationed at three different points opened fire on the fortifications. The one belonging to the division of the Marquis of Cadiz, whose gunners were directed by Moorish renegades, demolished the bottom of the cliff, which concealed from observation the secret gallery by means of which the inhabitants were furnished with water. This passage, which resembled the one at Alhama, was descended by an angular stairway of a hundred and thirty steps hewn by Christian slaves in the solid rock. The approach to the stream, commanded by the missiles of the enemy, could now only be made at the peril of death. Four days afterwards a breach was made in the walls, the city was entered by storm, and the castle, to which the garrison had retired, closely invested. It required but a few discharges from the lombards to demonstrate the hopelessness of further resistance. A deputation of the principal citizens implored with success the clemency of the besiegers, and the inhabitants were permitted to depart unmolested, bearing with them their personal effects, to seek a precarious asylum in cities soon to be shaken, in their turn, by the Christian cannon, and to be exposed to the fate of places abandoned to the fierce passions of an exasperated soldiery. The Alcalde of Setenil and the Alguacil of Ronda, with more than a hundred families, desiring to adopt the condition of Mudejares, or tributary Moors, and thereby to retain their religion and their customs under the protection of the Spanish Crown, were permitted to settle near Seville, where, in after-years, their wealth and the heresy of their detested belief furnished abundant profit and occupation to the familiars of the Inquisition.
From the dungeons of Ronda, on the day of the surrender, issued four hundred Christian captives. Their forlorn appearance, their clothes in rags, and many of them almost naked, their hair and beards long and tangled, their emaciated forms tottering with the weakness of famine and confinement, their limbs laden with ponderous fetters, excited the profound compassion of all who saw them. In the wretched procession were many victims of the Ajarquia disaster, and a number of noble youths who, with a devotion rare even in the days of chivalrous self-sacrifice, had voluntarily delivered themselves into the hands of the enemy to insure the freedom and safety of their fathers.
The signal-fires announcing the danger which threatened Ronda had called together from far and near the warlike peasantry of the mountains. The beacons on the lofty summits of the Serrania were answered by others forty miles away. At their appearance the redoubtable Hamet-al-Zegri returned, followed by the bravest soldiers of Malaga, but his desperate charges upon the Christian lines were fruitless, and the duration of the siege was so short that no time remained for more organized effort, either by assault or stratagem. The amazing rapidity and apparent ease with which one of the most strongly fortified cities in Europe was driven to extremity created a profound impression upon the already disheartened Moslems. From almost every mountain town and settlement as far as Cartama and Marbella messengers bearing offers of submission hastened to the Christian camp. In less than a week, fifty places of more or less importance, and the large extent of territory controlled by them, were added to the Spanish monarchy. The terms upon which the Mudejares were received as tributary subjects were exceedingly favorable, and dictated both by clerical dissimulation and political expediency. On condition of swearing allegiance to the sovereigns, through their chief’s and magistrates, of promising to obey the laws, and of paying the same tribute and taxes which they had formerly been accustomed to render to their own monarchs, they were permitted to practise unmolested their religious rites, to possess their own mosques, to be judged by their kadis, and to transmit and receive by inheritance every species of property, real and personal. It did not take many years to disclose the insincere and perfidious motives by which these apparently humane and generous concessions were dictated. The pathetic history of the Mudejares, subsequently known as Moriscoes, is one of the bloodiest chapters in the annals of the Inquisition.