History of the Moorish Empire in Europe, Vol. 2 (of 3)

by S. P. Scott

The investment of the city had not been accomplished without a constant succession of skirmishes, in which, although the besiegers uniformly had the advantage, they not infrequently sustained serious loss. The Moorish artillerists kept up an incessant fire, and their aim was so accurate that portions of the Christian line were forced back for a distance of several hundred yards before it could be permanently established. Especially were their efforts directed against the royal pavilion, which occupied a conspicuous position, and the plunging balls of the lombards passing in dangerous proximity made it necessary to remove the quarters of the King. As the suburbs of Malaga covered an extensive area, had formerly sheltered a numerous population, and were protected by defences not inferior to those of the city itself, their speedy occupation became a matter of great moment to Ferdinand. While larger, they presented the same general characteristics as similar localities in the neighborhood of other cities of Moorish Spain. An uneven line of massive towers, walls, and barbicans crowned with battlements; a labyrinth of tortuous lanes shaded by hedges of myrtle and laurel; in one quarter the stately villas of the rich, in another the crowded hovels of squalid poverty; orchards of fragrant tropical fruits; pastures where hundreds of cattle might graze in security; mysterious passages, obscured by overhanging vegetation, through which a squadron could burst unseen and unexpected upon an unwary outpost,—such were the features of the environs of Malaga. As much injury had already been suffered from sallying parties which issued from the depths of the dark and silent groves, it was determined that this dangerous ground should be cleared and occupied without delay. A tower of unusual dimensions defending the salient angle of the largest of these enclosures, and which was seen to be the key of the position, was designated as the point of attack. The command of the Count of Cifuentes was selected for this perilous duty. The Castilians rushing forward applied their scaling-ladders, but the enemy, fully prepared, met them with a destructive fire, and, by means of bundles of burning flax steeped in pitch and naphtha, destroyed the ladders and many soldiers who had ventured to ascend them. Through successive arrivals of reinforcements on both sides the engagement began to assume the character of a battle, whose result for a time promised to be indecisive; but after a day and a night of desperate fighting the Christians prevailed, and the Moors, dislodged from the tower, took up a position within the walls. Their cannon in turn now played upon the tower, the upper portion of which was soon destroyed, and, having succeeded in mining the foundations, it was blown up, carrying to death several hundred Spaniards, whose valor in the face of imminent peril had so recently effected its capture. This dearly purchased victory was followed by the occupation of the larger suburb, but not until a considerable force of infantry had been decoyed by Moorish cunning into a maze of crooked lanes, where, bewildered by the surroundings and encompassed by superior numbers, they were mercilessly slaughtered. In the ground still retained by the Moslems the trees were cut down, palisades strengthened by ditches were erected, and thus doubly entrenched the attacks of the subtle and ferocious enemy kept the camp of the besiegers in a condition of continual excitement and alarm. The determined resistance with which the slow advance of the Christians was encountered, causing every foot of territory won to be drenched with blood, the dread of the pestilence, which had already appeared in dangerous proximity to the camp, and the rumor, persistently circulated, that the Queen was urging the abandonment of the siege, began to produce great discontent throughout the Spanish ranks. Aware of this feeling and prompt to take advantage of it, the Moors redoubled their efforts. The guards and patrols were increased. Skirmishes became more frequent and bloody. Boats armed with light pieces of artillery were sent out at night to harass the vessels of the blockading fleet. The garrison was organized into companies, to which was assigned in turn the performance of regular duties of patrol, attack, relief; and discipline was enforced among the usually insubordinate Moslems with an impartiality and a rigor heretofore unknown. All communication with the enemy was forbidden by proclamation, and the very mention of surrender, even among the citizens, incurred the penalty of death. The Moors relied, however, not so much upon their training and resolution as upon the evils which, at all times and especially in that age, were liable to hamper the tedious and laborious operations of a besieging army. The rainy season was approaching, when the mountain streams, swollen to the dimensions of torrents, swept away everything in their course, and the sudden tempests rendered the harbor, always insecure, almost untenable for shipping. The exposure of the camp was certain to induce disease and might invite a visitation of the plague, while the physical disadvantages incident to the situation would probably be magnified by the fears and the discontent of a large body of men subjected to daily inconvenience and condemned to inglorious inaction. A reign of terror had been inaugurated in Malaga by the savage measures adopted by Hamet-al-Zegri, who had executed without examination or warning several prominent citizens whose former conduct had rendered their loyalty suspicious, and, as a result of this severity, to all outward appearances, the inhabitants were at last heartily united in the public defence. An atmosphere of distrust and apprehension, however, enveloped the community; no man dared to publicly address his friend; the denunciation of a prominent personage to the authorities was followed by his immediate execution; and the merchants, whose wealth, influence, and pacific inclinations made them obnoxious to the ferocious soldiery, exposed on the one side to the violence of the garrison, menaced on the other by the prospect of enslavement and of financial and domestic ruin, were driven by their forebodings into the apathy of despair. In order to counteract the feeling of confidence with which the false rumor of the Queen’s disapproval of the siege inspired the enemy, a request was now made urging her to repair to the camp.

The arrival of Isabella was marked by all the pomp of a royal reception, and her presence at the post of danger brought to the front many cavaliers not liable to military service, but actuated by the chivalrous spirit so prominent in the Castilian, and who, in this instance, combined the hope of military distinction with that ardent devotion to the sex always regarded as one of the noblest and most meritorious attributes of knighthood. The occasion seemed an advantageous one for the renewal of negotiations, and fresh overtures were made to the citizens of Malaga, but no reply was vouchsafed to the messengers, and they returned without having obtained an audience with the authorities. Foiled in this attempt and encouraged by the counsels of the Queen, Ferdinand pushed the approaches with increased energy. The entrenchments were moved into the suburbs, and often within a stone’s throw of the walls. An attack was made upon the castle, which resulted in the repulse and wounding of the Marquis of Cadiz. Vessels were sent to Barcelona, Valencia, Lisbon, and Palermo for powder. Hundreds of mechanics were employed in the construction of military engines,—ladders like masts, raised on sliding platforms, mangonels, battering-rams, movable towers, and mantelets. The wood required for this purpose was obtained from the orchards and groves of the vicinity. Mines were secretly opened at four different points, and in each of these hundreds of men labored constantly day and night. The appearance of the Queen, who was accompanied by the dignitaries and ladies of the court, infused fresh courage into the faltering ranks of the disheartened soldiery. The intrepid defence of the Moors had exceeded the anticipation of the Spaniards, who, encouraged by the remembrance of former triumphs, expected a rapid if sharply contested conquest. Instead of this, after three weeks, each day of which was marked by a series of sanguinary combats, no substantial progress had been made. The trifling advantages gained had been purchased at the expense of many lives; the success of the day was certain to be counteracted by the repulse of the morrow; when a wall was demolished, a new line was formed, composed of ditches and palisades, and defended by troops whose tireless efforts and apparently exhaustless resources seemed to bid defiance to every artifice of military experience and engineering skill. The discouraging prospect of the campaign, and the gradual spread of the pestilence in the neighborhood, caused numerous desertions and much consequent demoralization. Some soldiers returned to their homes; others, renouncing the further prosecution of an enterprise which they considered impracticable, sought the insidious friendship and uncertain rewards of the Moslems of Malaga. To insure their welcome, they sedulously magnified the distress of the comrades whom they had thus dishonorably abandoned,—alleging the shortness of rations, the want of powder, the number of deserters, the universal discontent which they declared even the exhortations and promises of the King had failed to appease. The effect of these representations soon became evident. The Moslems, encouraged to continue steadfast, maintained the contest with renewed obstinacy, and the attention of the Christians was occupied in guarding their lines, liable at any moment of the day or night to be broken by an assault from some remote and unexpected quarter. A cloud of smoke hung over the city and the camp, lighted at frequent intervals by the flashes of the cannon whose dull roar was occasionally followed by the crash of falling buildings, the cheers of the artillerists, and the cries of the wounded. The inflexible resolution and inspiring example of Hamet-al-Zegri, whose heroism was so tarnished by remorseless cruelty, sustained the defence of Malaga amidst the most frightful privation and suffering. The difficulty of supporting a great multitude of non-combatants under such circumstances increased day by day. All the provisions that could be found were unceremoniously seized for the benefit of the garrison. Whenever it was ascertained that some unfortunate citizen had secreted food for the maintenance of his family, all of the inmates of the house were at once put to the sword. The Jews, the especial objects of official tyranny, were inhumanly and maliciously deprived of the necessities of life, and the poorest and most helpless of this persecuted race perished by hundreds of starvation. In the extremity of famine the most loathsome and innutritious substances were eagerly devoured. Not an animal of any kind was left alive in the city; and many persons reared in abundance and luxury were forced to blunt the pangs of hunger with the leather of saddles, the stalks of cabbage, and the leaves of trees long since stripped of their fruit and blossoms. Rendered desperate by distress and by the enforced military duty for which they had been impressed by the governor, who took a grim satisfaction in assigning to the most perilous stations those who had least experience in the operations of war, a number of merchants, including Ali Dordux, again opened communications with the enemy. Their designs miscarried, for their messenger while returning from the Spanish camp was intercepted by a patrol, and, in trying to escape, fell pierced with a cross-bow bolt.

The extremity of their countrymen who so resolutely held their ground against the united resources of Castile and Aragon excited the compassion and applause of every patriotic Moslem in the kingdom. There were many in the capital who would have gladly volunteered to go to their assistance, but the known hostility of Boabdil repressed the public exhibition of the general feeling. With the sanction of Al-Zagal a band of picked warriors set out from Guadix to endeavor to cut their way into Malaga. Information of the expedition was communicated to Boabdil by spies, and an ambush was planned for the party by a squadron of Moorish cavalry from Granada. The unfortunate adventurers, unsuspicious of treachery, were surprised on the march, and less than half of them succeeded in escaping to Guadix. For this infamous service, so thoroughly in keeping with his character, Boabdil received the congratulations of the politic Ferdinand, who viewed with inward complacency the effects of the fatal policy of his enemies who were unconsciously fighting his battles, and were destined eventually to realize the futility of their efforts to maintain even a tributary existence in the face of adversaries prepared to renounce every consideration of honor and justice, to violate every covenant, to repudiate every suggestion of humanity and pity, in the final accomplishment of an object, pursued with unshaken tenacity, through the vicissitudes, the triumphs, and the reverses of twenty-five generations.

Despite the fact that famine threatened the garrison and was already decimating the non-combatants, the Moors never relaxed their efforts. Great trenches were excavated outside the walls at points where the cannon had effected breaches. The mines opened by the besiegers had in many instances reached the fortifications, when they were detected, countermined, and rendered worthless. One of them was blown up and destroyed after a bloody subterranean combat. This success was not obtained without the greatest difficulty, and only after six days of incessant fighting. Little by little every prospect of relief was removed from the minds of the despairing garrison. The Emir of Tlemcen, whose coast was constantly patrolled by armed galleys, and who recognized the hopelessness of the struggle, sent an embassy to the Catholic sovereigns, soliciting their friendship and imploring that the commercial restrictions imposed upon his subjects by the maintenance of the blockade might be removed. Magnificent presents of horses, trappings, and garments, silks, gold, and perfumes accompanied his request. The offer was graciously accepted; the naval commanders were instructed to treat their new allies with due consideration; but at the same time a vigilant watch was kept up to prevent any supplies of men or provisions from being clandestinely introduced into the devoted city. The sympathy of the Moslems throughout the kingdom, awakened by the heroism of the Malagans, increasing with the duration of the siege, found expression not only in lamentations, but in the execration of Boabdil, whose agency was recognized as principally responsible for the sufferings of his valiant countrymen.

In the mountains of Guadix there lived a certain Ibrahim-al-Guerbi, a santon, or hermit of African origin, whose uncouth appearance, emaciated form, and reputed sanctity had obtained for him the superstitious veneration with which the ignorant are accustomed to invest those whose lives are passed in localities apart from the abodes of men, and whose extravagant claims to superior holiness are supposed to be confirmed by habitual austerity and the frenzy born of incessant meditation and long-continued abstinence. His progress through the streets of Guadix was always attended by an immense multitude of admirers, who, regarding him as inspired and in frequent communication with the Prophet, listened to his ravings with a reverence equal to that with which they would have received a command of God. Calling the people together, this fanatic proclaimed in the market-place of the city that Allah, moved by the wretchedness of his faithful worshippers, had decreed that Malaga should be delivered from her extremity, and that he himself had been appointed as the instrument to carry the divine will into execution. The credulous populace heard this announcement with boundless enthusiasm; at the call for volunteers a great number of soldiers and citizens responded; and from these the santon selected a band of four hundred, most of them Africans, and all ready to sacrifice their lives in any desperate undertaking which might bring them glory on earth or secure their entrance into Paradise. Leaving the city secretly, the party, avoiding the frequented roads, hastened through the mountain wilds to Malaga. In the early morning they made a sudden charge on the Spanish lines near the sea; two hundred succeeded in cutting their way into the city, and the others remained dead or captive in front of the intrenchments. During the attack the santon withdrew to a retired spot near at hand, where, on his knees and with uplifted face and hands, he assumed an attitude of devotion. Discovered by the patrol, he maintained a dogged silence until taken before the Marquis of Cadiz, to whom he announced his calling and declared his ability to foretell coming events through revelations from the Almighty. The Marquis, who like all of his countrymen was not a little superstitious and disposed to give credit to the pretension of a religious charlatan even if he came in the guise of an enemy, asked if he knew when and how the city would be taken. The santon answered in the affirmative, but declared that he would only impart this information to the King and Queen, unattended and in secret. Thereupon the Marquis inquired the pleasure of the sovereigns, who ordered the Moor to be brought before them; and, in the same condition in which he was captured, clothed with a ragged cloak, and armed with a short but heavy scimetar, he was at once conducted to the royal pavilion. Fortunately Ferdinand was asleep and Isabella employed in some feminine occupation when the guard arrived with the santon, who was taken into an adjoining tent, where Don Alvaro of Portugal, of the royal House of Braganza, and Doña Beatrice de Bobadilla, Marchioness of Moya, the intimate friend of the Queen, were engaged in a game of chess. The Moor, to whom the persons of the Catholic sovereigns were unknown, supposing, as a matter of course, that the couple before him, whose splendid apparel denoted personages of the highest distinction, were the objects of his nefarious design, drew his scimetar and inflicted a dangerous wound on Don Alvaro. He then aimed several blows at the Marchioness, who had fallen to the ground in terror, but his weapon striking the canvas of the tent each time he raised it disconcerted his aim, and his intended victim escaped injury. The savage fanatic was instantly killed by the soldiers, and his mutilated remains cast over the walls from a catapult. Collected reverently by the Moslems, they were sewed together, dressed in silken robes, and, after being sprinkled with the costliest perfumes, were buried with all the honors due to a martyr who had sacrificed his life in a bold if a reprehensible and fruitless attempt to render a service to his country. In reprisal, a Galician captive of rank was killed and tied upon an ass, which was driven into the Christian lines, an act as impolitic as cruel, for it only served to further exasperate the besiegers, already rendered sufficiently implacable by their losses, their hardships, and the unexpected severity of the labors imposed upon them by the desperate resistance of the enemy.

While famine and suffering daily increased within the walls of Malaga, the condition of the Spaniards, for a time discouraging, was now steadily improving. Many nobles from Valencia and Catalonia, desirous of serving under their monarchs and provided with substantial aid in men and money, repaired to the camp. The Duke of Medina-Sidonia, with his son and a great following of retainers, brought the influence of his name and presence and, what was even more acceptable, the tender of twenty thousand doubloons of gold. By these means the army, originally consisting of seventy thousand men, was considerably augmented. The magazines were replenished. Vast heaps of grain were tantalizingly exposed to the view of the starving Moslems. New recruits were enlisted. Great stores of ammunition were collected, and the increased enthusiasm and renewed fury of the assaults apprised the besieged that only some crushing reverse could overcome the inflexible determination of their foes.

Scarcely a day now passed that a number of the citizens of Malaga did not enter the Christian camp, forfeiting their liberty to escape death by starvation. Reduced to skeletons and staggering with weakness, they devoured with the ravenous appetite of famine the food that was given them, exciting by their deplorable condition the compassion even of their unfeeling conquerors. The accounts they gave of the straits to which their brethren were reduced convinced the Spaniards that the struggle could not much longer be maintained. The streets were covered with decomposing corpses. Those wounded in battle and the perishing victims of hunger lay side by side, both helpless and uncared for. The terrible Gomeres, restricted to quarter-rations, and rendered still more savage by suffering and by daily familiarity with carnage, stalked unquestioned through every house, enforcing their demands for food with threats whose bloody significance the slightest inattention was quick to realize. Most pitiable was the state of the women and children, many of them left unprotected by the fortune of war, without the means of sustaining life, exposed to hourly danger, oppressed by the sad remembrance of their losses, with no prospect save death or the even more unhappy one of perpetual servitude. The Castilians listened to these statements with incredulity, for it seemed impossible that under such trials the spirit of the Moslems could remain unbroken and undismayed. The assaults on the trenches continued. The ships of the fleet were attacked and some of them destroyed. The hopes of the besieged were sustained by the assurances of ultimate victory proclaimed by another fanatic, who, in spite of the failure of his predecessor, found it easy to obtain among his credulous countrymen implicit belief in his extravagant promises. Under his advice, six strong battalions attacked simultaneously the Spanish intrenchments held by the commands of the Grand Masters of Alcantara and Santiago. The Christians, although habitually on their guard, were surprised and driven back; but the success of the Moslems was but temporary; a determined effort sufficed to repulse them, and after losing many men they retired in disorder.

This engagement was the crisis of the siege. The garrison was no longer able to man the fortifications, fast crumbling under the enemy’s guns. Of five thousand picked men that originally composed it, three-fifths had been killed and wounded, and the remainder were greatly weakened by disease and privation. The lamentations of the starving, and the remonstrances of those citizens whose personal interests had always inclined them to peace, now became too importunate to longer remain unheeded. The indomitable Hamet-al-Zegri and his guards sullenly betook themselves to the Gibralfaro. Five prominent merchants, empowered by the people to sue for peace, were sent to the head-quarters of the King. Their proposal to yield on substantially the same terms which had been granted other conquered cities was rejected with haughty disdain, and they were informed that nothing short of an agreement involving the unconditional surrender of their persons and property would be entertained. In despair the envoys returned; the citizens consented to abandon everything provided their liberty was assured; and, if this should still be denied, they threatened to hang from the battlements every Christian captive in their power, and, having placed the women and children in the Alcazaba, to set fire to the city, and then, sallying forth, sell their lives dearly in battle with their unrelenting foes. To this menace Ferdinand replied that if a single captive was killed he would put every Moor in Malaga to death, and that no other terms would be given except those already communicated to their messengers. The desperate circumstances of the besieged allowed them no alternative but absolute submission to the will of the conqueror, and after much altercation they signified their consent to surrender without conditions. Hostages were given to secure their fidelity; the victorious army marched into the city; all of the inhabitants were compelled to assemble in the Alcazaba, there to await the pleasure of the King; the brave Hamet-al-Zegri was placed in irons and sold in the slave-market of Carmona; the Christian deserters, whose information had been instrumental in confirming the obstinacy of the Moors, were put to death by torture; the streets were cleansed of impurities; and in the great mosque, consecrated to Christianity amidst the imposing forms of the Catholic ritual, mass was said in gratitude for the prosperous event of an enterprise which, in difficulty, in duration, and in the intrepidity and fertility of resource exhibited by the enemy, was without parallel in the history of the Reconquest. Five hundred captives, whose survival proved that they had been better cared for than many of their masters, came in solemn procession to return thanks for their deliverance. Not a few of them, who had long abandoned all hope of liberty, had been enslaved for twenty years. Many villages near Malaga were occupied by the Spanish troops, and their inhabitants were confined with their countrymen for future disposition in the spacious enclosure of the citadel.

In deciding the fate of the people of Malaga, the remarkable constancy and heroism which they had displayed in defence of their homes—qualities that must have awakened the admiration and respect of every mind susceptible to the sentiments of generosity and pity—were not taken into consideration by Ferdinand and Isabella, except to the prejudice of the victims. In accordance with mediæval custom the vanquished were absolutely at the mercy of the conquerors. By a refinement of political casuistry they were also branded as rebels. The grounds for this accusation are now difficult to determine. The Moslems of Malaga were, and always had been, the subjects of Al-Zagal, the uncompromising enemy of the Christians, and, by the most ingenious and far-fetched application of Castilian law or feudal practice, could never have been included among the dependents or tributaries of the Spanish Crown. It is probable that the claim may have been founded on the suzerainty exercised by former kings, and acknowledged by the princes of Granada as a political necessity, but never conceded as an inalienable right. Exasperation caused by prolonged resistance, and the conviction that a severe example might deter other cities from opposing the march of Spanish sovereignty, induced certain persons attached to the court and army, concerning whose names history is silent, to urge with vehemence an indiscriminate massacre of the prisoners,—a proposal which, fortunately for the reputation of the victors, through considerations of public expediency, if not from sentiments of humanity, they were induced to reject. The royal decree, published by sound of trumpet, condemned every Moor to slavery for life. The severity of this sentence was, however, modified by a provision which, while it apparently held out a prospect of relief, yet, so far from abating its rigor, was in fact designed to intensify it by the infliction of bitter disappointment. Malaga was one of the most opulent cities of the Mediterranean. Her merchants had amassed great fortunes by commerce, and their personal property, so valuable and so likely to be concealed in the face of endless servitude, was a prize not to be lightly relinquished by Spanish rapacity. The priceless jewels worn by the Moorish women in rich and barbaric profusion were famous throughout Granada, and reports of their value and beauty had spread to the Castilian court. Rumors were already in circulation that the most of these treasures had disappeared. The crafty dissimulation of the Christian sovereigns readily devised an expedient to recover this wealth. By royal proclamation it was announced that the entire number of Moors could be delivered from slavery on the payment within eight months of a sum amounting to thirty doubloons of gold for each man, woman, and child. This, however, was only applicable collectively. No individual could offer a separate ransom; and no death within the allotted time was to be taken into consideration,—all were to be redeemed alike and together, whether living or dead. It was an indispensable condition of this extraordinary grant of indulgence that the entire personal property of the people of Malaga should be at once transferred to the officers of the treasury, to be credited on account. The Moors, without calculating the enormous sum required to ransom such a multitude or reflecting upon the numerous pretexts by which an agreement made with a perfidious conqueror might be repudiated, eagerly grasped at the tempting but fallacious prospect of freedom.

As the entire number of the citizens and garrison was not far from eleven thousand, it required three hundred and thirty thousand doubloons, equal to twenty-one million one hundred and twenty thousand dollars at the present estimate of values, to effect their deliverance. Every encouragement was at once extended the captives to unearth their hidden treasures. Conducted to their houses, they brought forth from the depths of wells and cisterns, from excavations in the gardens, from concealed vaults and secret receptacles, from fountains and walled-up niches, gold and silver ornaments, jewels, coin, and plate, and every conceivable species of portable riches. A list of all the owners was made, together with an inventory and appraisement of their property, which we may rest assured was not valued at an extravagant figure. History does not inform us of the amount secured or of the deficit. As the ransom of a captive is one of the most meritorious acts of a Moslem, and one explicitly enjoined by his religion, the Malagans expected that their fellow-sectaries would readily contribute the remaining sum required for their liberty. In this they were sadly disappointed; the subjects of Boabdil refused to compromise themselves by assisting the enemies of Ferdinand, and by order of their king the letters and petitions were intercepted and sent to the Spanish court. The partisans of Al-Zagal, impoverished through contributions demanded by the exigencies of war and disheartened by defeat, were unable to respond to the pressing importunities of their brethren, harassed by the memory of recent distress and menaced by the most deplorable of human calamities. The charity of the Moslems hence fell far short of the demands which the necessities of their countrymen exacted. Although even the inhabitants of Morocco and Tlemcen—whom recently established relations with the Spanish Crown may have unfavorably influenced—were appealed to, it was found impossible to collect the required amount.