On the borders of the Yeguas, the queen was met by an advanced corps, under the command of the marquis-duke of Cadiz, and, at the distance of a league and a half from Moclin, by the duke del Infantado, with the principal nobility and their vassals, splendidly accoutred. On the left of the road was drawn up in battle array the militia of Seville, and the queen, making her obeisance to the banner of that illustrious city, ordered it to pass to her right. The successive battalions saluted the queen as she advanced, by lowering their standards, and the joyous multitude announced with tumultuous acclamations her approach to the conquered city.
The queen was accompanied by her daughter, the infanta Isabella, and a courtly train of damsels, mounted on mules richly caparisoned. The queen herself rode a chestnut mule, seated on a saddle-chair embossed with gold and silver. The housings were of a crimson color, and the bridle was of satin, curiously wrought with letters of gold. The infanta wore a skirt of fine velvet, over others of brocade; a scarlet mantilla of the Moorish fashion; and a black hat trimmed with gold embroidery. The king rode forward at the head of his nobles to receive her. He was dressed in a crimson doublet, with chausses, or breeches, of yellow satin. Over his shoulders was thrown a cassock or mantle of rich brocade, and a sopravest of the same materials concealed his cuirass. By his side, close girt, he wore a Moorish scimitar, and beneath his bonnet his hair was confined by a cap or headdress of the finest stuff.
Ferdinand was mounted on a noble war-horse of a bright chestnut color. In the splendid train of chivalry which attended him, Bernaldez dwells with much satisfaction on the English lord Scales. He was followed by a retinue of five pages arrayed in costly liveries. He was sheathed in complete mail, over which was thrown a French surcoat of dark silk brocade. A buckler was attached by golden, clasps to his arm, and on his head he wore a white French hat with plumes. The caparisons of his steed were azure silk, lined with violet and sprinkled over with stars of gold, and swept the ground, as he managed his fiery courser with an easy horsemanship that excited general admiration.
The king and queen, as they drew near, bowed thrice with formal reverence to each other. The queen at the same time raising her hat, remained in her coif or headdress, with her face uncovered; Ferdinand, riding up, kissed her affectionately on the cheek, and then, according to the precise chronicler, bestowed a similar mark of tenderness on his daughter Isabella, after giving her his paternal benediction. The royal party were then escorted to the camp, where suitable accommodations had been provided for the queen and her fair retinue. [33]
It may readily be believed that the sovereigns did not neglect, in a war like the present, an appeal to the religious principle so deeply seated in the Spanish character. All their public acts ostentatiously proclaimed the pious nature of the work in which they were engaged. They were attended in their expeditions by churchmen of the highest rank, who not only mingled in the councils of the camp, but, like the bold bishop of Jaen, or the grand cardinal Mendoza, buckled on harness over rochet and hood, and led their squadrons to the field. [34] The queen at Cordova celebrated the tidings of every new success over the infidel, by solemn procession and thanksgiving, with her whole household, as well as the nobility, foreign ambassadors, and municipal functionaries. In like manner Ferdinand, on the return from his campaigns, was received at the gates of the city, and escorted in solemn pomp beneath a rich canopy of state to the cathedral church, where he prostrated himself in grateful adoration of the Lord of hosts. Intelligence of their triumphant progress in the war was constantly transmitted to the pope, who returned his benediction, accompanied by more substantial marks of favor, in bulls of crusade, and taxes on ecclesiastical rents. [35]
The ceremonials observed on the occupation of a new conquest were such as to affect the heart no less than the imagination. "The royal alferez," says Marineo, "raised the standard of the Cross, the sign of our salvation, on the summit of the principal fortress; and all who beheld it prostrated themselves on their knees in silent worship of the Almighty, while the priests chanted the glorious anthem, Te Deum laudamus. The ensign or pennon of St. James, the chivalric patron of Spain, was then unfolded, and all invoked his blessed name. Lastly was displayed the banner of the sovereigns, emblazoned with the royal arms; at which the whole army shouted forth, as if with one voice, 'Castile, Castile!' After these solemnities, a bishop led the way to the principal mosque, which, after the rites of purification, he consecrated to the service of the true faith." The standard of the Cross above referred to was of massive silver, and was a present from Pope Sixtus the Fourth to Ferdinand, in whose tent it was always carried throughout these campaigns. An ample supply of bells, vases, missals, plate, and other sacred furniture, was also borne along with the camp, being provided by the queen for the purified mosques. [36]
The most touching part of the incidents usually occurring at the surrender of a Moorish city was the liberation of the Christian captives immured in its dungeons. On the capture of Ronda, in 1485, more than four hundred of these unfortunate persons, several of them cavaliers of rank, some of whom had been taken in the fatal expedition of the Axarquia, were restored to the light of heaven. On being brought before Ferdinand, they prostrated themselves on the ground, bathing his feet with tears, while their wan and wasted figures, their dishevelled locks, their beards reaching down to their girdles, and their limbs loaded with heavy manacles, brought tears into the eye of every spectator. They were then commanded to present themselves before the queen at Cordova, who liberally relieved their necessities, and, after the celebration of public thanksgiving, caused them to be conveyed to their own homes. The fetters of the liberated captives were suspended in the churches, where they continued to be revered by succeeding generations as the trophies of Christian warfare. [37]
Ever since the victory of Lucena, the sovereigns had made it a capital point of their policy to foment the dissensions of their enemies. The young king Abdallah, after his humiliating treaty with Ferdinand, lost whatever consideration he had previously possessed. Although the sultana Zoraya, by her personal address, and the lavish distribution of the royal treasures, contrived to maintain a faction for her son, the better classes of his countrymen despised him as a renegade, and a vassal of the Christian king. As their old monarch had become incompetent, from increasing age and blindness, to the duties of his station in these perilous times, they turned their eyes on his brother Abdallah, surnamed El Zagal, or "The Valiant," who had borne so conspicuous a part in the rout of the Axarquia. The Castilians depict this chief in the darkest colors of ambition and cruelty; but the Moslem writers afford no such intimation, and his advancement to the throne at that crisis seems to be in some measure justified by his eminent talents as a military leader.
On his way to Granada, he encountered and cut to pieces a body of Calatrava knights from Alhama, and signalized his entrance into his new capital by bearing along the bloody trophies of heads dangling from his saddlebow, after the barbarous fashion long practised in these wars. [38] It was observed that the old king Abul Hacen did not long survive his brother's accession. [39] The young king Abdallah sought the protection of the Castilian sovereigns in Seville, who, true to their policy, sent him back into his own dominions with the means of making headway against his rival. The alfakies and other considerate persons of Granada, scandalized at these fatal feuds, effected a reconciliation, on the basis of a division of the kingdom between the parties. But wounds so deep could not be permanently healed. The site of the Moorish capital was most propitious to the purposes of faction. It covered two swelling eminences, divided from each other by the deep waters of the Darro. The two factions possessed themselves respectively of these opposite quarters. Abdallah was not ashamed to strengthen himself by the aid of Christian mercenaries; and a dreadful conflict was carried on for fifty days and nights, within the city, which swam with the blood that should have been shed only in its defence. [40]
Notwithstanding these auxiliary circumstances, the progress of the Christians was comparatively slow. Every cliff seemed to be crowned with a fortress; and every fortress was defended with the desperation of men willing to bury themselves under its ruins. The old men, women, and children, on occasions of a siege, were frequently despatched to Granada. Such was the resolution, or rather ferocity of the Moors, that Malaga closed its gates against the fugitives from Alora, after its surrender, and even massacred some of them in cold blood. The eagle eye of El Zagal seemed to take in at a glance the whole extent of his little territory, and to detect every vulnerable point in his antagonist, whom he encountered where he least expected it; cutting off his convoys, surprising his foraging parties, and retaliating by a devastating inroad on the borders. [41]