When intelligence of these events reached the marquis of Mondejar, after providing for the defence of Granada, he took the field. Ibn Humeya, confiding in the defiles of the Alpujarras, prepared to receive him; while another band of the rebels placed themselves in opposition to the marquis de los Velez, on the southern frontier of this mountainous district. In some isolated actions, the Moriscos had the advantage; but this was only when the Christians went in scattered detachments, and were consequently subject to surprise. The former were too weak, even with the succours they derived from Africa, to risk a general engagement. Fortress after fortress fell into the power of the royal generals, who vigorously pursued the enemy.
The marquis de Mondejar continued the desultory warfare with more or less success. That success would have been much more decisive, but for the opposition between him and the marquis de los Velez: the former was for tempering mercy with justice; the latter for extermination. Horrors now were as much the work of the Christians as of the Moriscos. An event, which happened in the fortress of Jubiles made a deep impression on the rebels, and contributed more than any other cause to feed the flame of civil strife. That fortress being invested by the marquis, three aged Moriscos issued from it with the banner of peace, and agreed to its surrender, on the condition that the lives of the garrison, consisting of three hundred men and fifteen hundred women, should be respected. It was accordingly entered by the royal troops, to whom the plunder was abandoned. The men were lodged with the inhabitants of the town; the women were ordered to be accommodated in the church. As that edifice, however, would contain no more than five hundred, the remaining thousand were compelled to pass the night in the square before it. Guards were posted to protect them.
About the middle of the night, one of the soldiers, being enamoured with a young Morisca, wished to detach her from her companions. She resisted; he pulled her away by force; when one of the persons by her side—her husband or brother, in the disguise of a woman—took her part, engaged, and disarmed the soldier. The confusion produced by this struggle led to a tumult; the soldiers rushed from their camp; it was proclaimed that many armed Moriscos were disguised among the prisoners; and, in the fury of the moment, the whole number were pitilessly massacred. In vain did the marquis endeavour to stay the carnage: the authority of the officers was disregarded. At break of day their fury cooled, and gave way to remorse on perceiving the bloody corpses of one thousand helpless, unarmed women. This bloody crime will never be blotted from the minds of men.[88]
The tyranny of Ibn Humeya somewhat counterbalanced the effect which this terrific tragedy was so well calculated to produce. He assassinated his father-in-law, repudiated his wife, put to death several of her relatives, and threatened the same fate for her brother, Diego de Rojas, one of his ablest adherents. By this hasty vengeance he naturally estranged many of his followers. As the Christian army advanced into the mountains, he was compelled to flee from one position to another; but not without loss to his pursuers.
Mondejar considered that the war was at an end, and that the fugitive would infallibly be captured. He did not know that, notwithstanding the heavy losses sustained by the enemy, they were still six thousand in number; many of them determined to resist to the last extremity. In a few days, however, on the heights of the Sierra Nevada, one thousand were exterminated by the marquis de los Velez.
But such were the excesses of the Christian soldiers, the want of faith which characterised some of their leaders, and the rapacity of all, that no reverses could make the rebels lay down their arms; and on several occasions they were enabled to inflict a suitable revenge. The Moriscos had learned, to their cost, that even when conditions of capitulation had been proposed and accepted, in violation of their terms the prisoners were plundered or massacred. It was asserted that no faith could be placed in a Christian’s word or bond; and the report naturally strengthened the bands of Ibn Humeya. Philip saw that the two marquises would never cordially co-operate so long as each led an independent power; and he subjected both to the authority of his bastard brother, Don John of Austria.
Several districts which had submitted rebelled anew, and Ibn Humeya was at the head of a far more numerous force than had ever yet taken the field.
At Valor, whither the marquis de los Velez penetrated, Ibn Humeya made a vigorous stand; but notwithstanding his valour, which was never perhaps surpassed, and his abilities, which were of a high order, he was signally defeated and compelled to flee almost alone. This disaster was partially repaired by a reinforcement from Africa, and by the spirit of desertion which prevailed in the camp of the marquis. His own conduct, however, continually increased the number of his enemies. One night he was strangled, and Ibn Abu was proclaimed under the name of Mulei Abdallah.
The war now raged with various success; to each party the loss of one day was counterbalanced by the gain of the next, until Don John of Austria, who had assembled troops on every side, again took the field in person. He proceeded to reduce the mountain fortresses. One after another fell into his hands. To prevent another insurrection after submission, the inhabitants of the newly subdued towns were transplanted to other parts, generally to the towns of Andalusia; a few into New Castile. This measure contributed more than any other to weaken the rebels, and to hasten the conclusion of the war. In almost every partial action—the enemy could no longer dream of a general one—the advantage lay with the Christians; nor was the success less rapid than decided.