The Story of Majorca and Minorca

by Sir Clements R. Markham

As soon as he found that there was no hope from negotiation, the Amír resolved upon a desperate defence. He addressed his people, urging them to defend their religion, their liberty, and their homes to the death. He met with a determined response, and the resistance became more fierce and desperate than ever. The Count of Ampurias conducted the mining operations, and eventually at least forty yards of the wall fell in. The breach was defended with such furious valour that the besiegers were forced to retire, while the Moors hastily built up another wall. A few days afterwards, on the Saturday after St. Andrew’s,[4] another piece of the wall, with a tower, fell in heaps. With the accord of the army, the King then resolved to deliver the assault on the following Sunday morning. Still the resistance was so resolute, the furious struggles for positions so prolonged, that it was the last day of December before the general assault could be given.

At dawn the troops heard Mass and received the Sacrament. The King made a speech to animate the men, with whom he promised to conquer or die. They advanced to the ruined walls, where the ‘Puerta Pintada’ stood, and 300 footmen rushed over the breach, followed by cavalry. The Moorish Amír was at the head of his bravest warriors, and soon a desperate battle was raging in the street now called ‘San Miguel.’ Mounted on a white horse, and armed at all points, the gallant Moor courted death, and kept shouting to his men, ‘Stand firm! Stand firm!’ The brave defenders died in heaps where they stood, but the impulse of the Catalans was irresistible, and they reached the front of the chief mosque, leaving heaps of dead behind them.

This mosque was turned into the first Christian place of worship, and is now the church of San Miguel. The figure-head of the King’s galley was a Virgin and Child. It was placed in the church of San Miguel, where it remains to this day.

Here there was a pause. The Moors still fought hard to prevent a further advance into their city, while stones and timber were hurled upon the assailants by women and children on the roofs. So long as their Amír led them the Moors continued the struggle, but at last he retired in despair. Then the inhabitants began to pour out of the gates now called Jesus and Catalina, and fled towards the mountains. The dead could be counted by thousands. The King placed himself at the head of his troops and led them through the town until he reached the ‘Almudaina’ palace on the sea-face. Those within it surrendered on condition that their lives were spared.

The house in which his brave antagonist the Amír Abu Yahye had taken refuge was pointed out to King Jayme. He went there, accompanied by his cousin En Nuño. When he entered the room, the Amír, who was in a white burnous and quilted coat, stood up and tendered his submission. The King received it with courtesy, promised the Amír his life, and treated him with consideration, giving him in charge to two of his nobles. En Jayme found the Amír’s son, a boy aged about fourteen, in the ‘Almudaina.’ He adopted the young Moorish prince, converted him, and eventually granted him a considerable estate in Aragon, where he married the fair Eva de Roldan and became Baron of Hillueca and Gotor.

Having placed a strong guard over the treasury in the ‘Almudaina,’ the King, quite worn out by the fatigue of so many days of anxiety and fighting, retired to rest in the Moorish palace. On the following morning the city was given up to sack, and the spoils were enormous, consisting of great quantities of gold and silver in many shapes, rich clothing, arms, horses, and a thousand other forms of riches. The soldiers were well repaid for their labours. The sacking of the town was allowed to proceed for eight days continuously. As many as 180 Christian captives were found and liberated. Efforts were then made to bury the dead, but they were ineffectual, and a terrible pestilence broke out. One of the first victims was the Count of Ampurias; many other leading nobles perished, and great ravages were made among the soldiers before the pestilence subsided.

The Catalan force had been much reduced by losses during the siege, by some having returned home, and by the pestilence, and no reinforcements had arrived. Yet the King insisted upon attacking a large body of Moors who had taken refuge in the mountains. Fortunately, the impregnable castle of Alaro, which he left on his right as he advanced, had been secured by his ally Benahabet, and was not in the hands of the Moors. The King led his men to the skirts of the mountains, at a place called Buñola, where he appears to have sustained a serious reverse. The Catalans fed before the mountaineers, and never stopped until they reached Benahabet’s town of Inca, near the centre of the island. The King followed the fugitives with only forty attendant knights, and sternly upbraided them for their cowardice. He then returned to Palma with his beaten troops.

Soon afterwards a welcome reinforcement arrived, which, however, only consisted of fifteen well-armed knights. But their leader was a man of exceptional importance. Hugo de Folch Alguer was Master of the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem in Aragon and Catalonia, and was a veteran for whom the King had a great regard. His request for a grant of land for his Order was opposed at first by the nobles who had borne the heat and burden of the day. It speaks much for the tact and conciliatory skill of the young King that he eventually succeeded in making the grant to the Master with the consent and approval of all concerned in the division of the land.

En Jayme then resolved to lead an expedition against the Moors who had taken refuge in the hills towards the south-east angle of the island. Accompanied by En Nuño, the Bishop of Barcelona, and the Master of the Hospitallers, the King advanced to the site of Manacor, now the centre of a vine-growing district. Here the news came that many Moors were concealed, with their riches, in almost inaccessible caves near the south coast.

On the coast near Manacor is the Cueva del Drach, one of the largest stalactite caves in Europe, with several subsidiary caves and an underground lake, over which the myriads of stalactites present a fairy-like scene. Farther to the eastward the caves of Arta are of still greater extent, nearly 300 yards long, in three vast vaulted halls, roofed by magnificent stalactites, some of them assuming marvellous shapes. The approach to the entrance, where there is a splendid view over the sea, has now been made easy enough. In the thirteenth century it was extremely difficult and perilous. The young King led an assault on the caves of Arta, but, unable to face the hail storm of missiles on so narrow and dangerous a path, his men were repulsed. A retreat was unavoidable, and En Jayme went to dinner. The Master of St. John, with his knights, then endeavoured to set fire to some huts built round the entrance of the caves. The plan was to send two knights on to the heights above the entrance, whence they were to shower down darts made with artificial fire, so as to burn the huts and fill the cave with suffocating smoke. Two brothers named Antonio and Perote Moix volunteered for this dangerous service. The plan was successful, and the Moors, from fear of suffocation, offered to surrender if no succour reached them in eight days. Meanwhile the Catalans were suffering from want of provisions. The King himself, with En Nuño and a hundred followers, only had seven loaves of bread amongst them for a whole day. The rest of the army fed on corn stored in the farms. The young son of Ramon de Moncada, who secured the bread, received for his arms ‘on a field gules seven loaves or.’