Volume 2 — CHAPTER XX PROSECUTION OF THE RECONQUEST 1252–1475 (continued 2)

The enemy’s fleet had passed the strait during the night, apparently through the supineness of the Spanish admiral, whose inferior force, however, could not have even delayed its progress; but, from this apparent neglect of duty, a rumor arose that Don Geoffrey Tenorio, one of the most honorable and high-spirited of men, had betrayed his trust for a bribe. Stung to the quick by the unjust imputation, the brave soldier ordered his ships to prepare for battle. His adversaries outnumbered him three to one, and no courage or dexterity could compensate for the disadvantage of position or the disparity of numbers. The conflict was short and bloody. The Christian admiral, after a desperate struggle on the deck of his ship, fell sword in hand; the majority of the Christian vessels were taken or sunk; and only five succeeded in reaching the harbor of Tarifa. Abul-Hassan, from the loftiest minaret of Ceuta, witnessed the victory which established his maritime supremacy in the Western Mediterranean, and destroyed for nearly a generation the naval power of the kingdom of Castile.

In September, 1340, the Sultan of Fez formally assumed command of his troops at Algeziras. Not long afterwards the army of Granada, commanded by Yusuf, arrived, and the long-expected campaign began in earnest. The chronicles of the time differ greatly in their numerical estimates of the allied host. That it was very large, however, does not admit of doubt, and, even after due allowance for priestly exaggeration and Castilian gasconade, it would seem to have exceeded two hundred and fifty thousand men. Of these, nearly a hundred thousand were Mauritanian and Granadan horsemen, the finest light-armed cavalry in the world. The military skill which disposed of this great force corresponded in no degree with the irresistible power it was capable of exerting if intelligently directed. The most obvious course would have been to advance rapidly into the country of the enemy, already paralyzed with fear at its approach, and bring about an engagement before the Christians were fully prepared. The capture of Tarifa was, however, in the eyes of the two sovereigns, a more certain advantage than the precarious issue of a pitched battle on their own ground with the redoubtable chivalry of Castile, and, in consequence of their determination, a line of intrenchments was drawn around that city. It is uncertain whether any incentive other than mere caprice influenced the Moslem commanders in their decision. Tarifa was a place of comparatively small strategic value. So long as the more important fortresses of Gibraltar and Algeziras remained in the hands of the Moslems, affording ready communication with the shores of Africa, no material advantage could result from its possession. Its harbor was neither extraordinarily safe nor commodious. While the country in its vicinity was rich and fertile, its extent was not great enough to justify the expenditure of any large amount of blood and treasure for its subjection. And finally, the formidable character of the defences of Tarifa, which had, upon more than one occasion, demonstrated that a garrison insignificant in numbers could readily maintain its position against an immense army, should have convinced the Moorish princes of the difficulties to be encountered in its reduction, in addition to the probabilities of ultimate disaster. The siege of the city, once decided upon, was pushed with the utmost energy. Quantities of munitions of war, provisions, the ponderous engines used in military operations, and a few pieces of rude artillery were transported from Ceuta. The Castilian galleys which endeavored to intercept these supplies were wrecked by a tempest, and the sailors were killed by the enemy or captured and compelled to renounce their religion. The apathy of the Christians, partly the result of constitutional indifference, but largely due to royal oppression, seemed about to abandon their country to ruin. Alfonso XI., reduced to despair, convoked an assembly of the grand masters of the military orders, the most eminent prelates, and such of the principal nobles as he had not degraded, exiled, or put to death. After a pathetic appeal to their patriotism, he deposited upon a table his sword and crown, and, leaving with them these insignia of royal dignity as mute representatives of his honor and distress, he retired from the room. In the deliberations which followed, it was resolved to at once attempt the relief of Tarifa, an undertaking which, if successful, would avert a national misfortune. Every effort was exerted to assemble an army. The nobles summoned their retainers and vassals. The clergy proclaimed a crusade, raised the holy banner blessed by the Pope, and inflamed the religious zeal of their audiences by all the artifices of bigotry and all the powers of eloquence of which they were masters. Appeals were made to the Kings of Aragon and Portugal. A fleet of galleys was obtained from the Republic of Genoa, a proceeding which utterly exhausted the already bankrupt treasury of the kingdom, while the well-known duplicity of these mercenaries caused no little apprehension lest their power might yet be turned against their allies through the machinations of a rich and unscrupulous adversary.

After an investment of several weeks, after numerous assaults and many stratagems, all of which were repulsed or foiled, the undaunted garrison of Tarifa still maintained unimpaired the honor and reputation of the Castilian arms. To this handful of heroic soldiers the prospect was indeed discouraging. From the battlements of the castle, as far as the eye could reach, could be descried the countless tents of the besieging army. Amidst the coarse brown shelters of camel’s hair, the home of the migratory Arab, appeared the more pretentious quarters of the various division commanders, indicated by pennons of gaudy colors and by patrols of heavily armed sentinels. On a slight eminence, in the centre of the vast encampment, stood side by side the royal pavilions of the Sultan, Abul-Hassan, and Yusuf, Emir of Granada. Embellished with every adornment procurable by the boundless resources of wealth and power, they were conspicuous from afar. Their material was blue and crimson silk, profusely and elaborately embroidered. Globes of silver surmounted the stakes which sustained their folds. Before the tent of the Sultan of Fez waved the great standard of the Holy War,—of green silk inscribed with passages from the Koran, and with the name of Allah repeated hundreds of times in characters of gold. With armor and weapons glittering with jewels, a numerous guard watched over the safety of their sovereigns,—fierce warriors of the Zenetah, and of the Beni-Saraj, those “Sons of the Saddler,” destined in after-years to play a prominent part in the history of Granada, and whose valor, amidst the sinking fortunes of the Moslem empire, sustained in many sanguinary battles the reputation of their ancestry and the terror of their name. Outside the harbor was ranged the hostile fleet, covering the sea with its snowy sails; its gay ensigns emblazoned with the devices of the commanders or with the mottoes of the Koran assumed as their peculiar insignia by the princes of the House of Fez.

Well might the hearts of the little band of Christians in the beleaguered city of Tarifa sink within them. To all appearances, they were abandoned by their sovereign. No tidings of approaching relief could reach their ears. The din of incessant battle resounded through the streets. The walls were crumbling under the blows inflicted by formidable engines of war. More than once had scaling-parties obtained a foothold on the ramparts, only to be repulsed by superhuman efforts. Even in capitulation there was little prospect of safety, for such of their comrades as had fallen into the enemy’s hands were tendered the alternative of apostasy or death. For in this Holy War, waged more earnestly for the extension of religious faith than for the acquisition of territory or the spoils of conquest, the humane rules which ordinarily governed the surrender of enemies or the treatment of prisoners were either suspended or abrogated. Their stubborn and prolonged resistance had exasperated the besiegers, and there was slender hope of quarter in the event of submission or capture. The Moslem army was largely composed of barbarians, ignorant of the laws and usages of civilized nations; and, whether taken by storm or surrendered, the city would inevitably be sacked and would probably be destroyed. In the last moment of extremity and despair the Christian banners were discovered from the battlements. In the organization of the approaching army the efforts of the Spaniards had been absolutely exhausted. Castile, in the fourteenth century, could not command the men, the funds, the military resources, which had been under the control of the grim old warrior Ferdinand III. The population was diminished by wars, sedition, famine, disease. Agriculture was impossible where life and property were constantly unsafe. Articles which in the contiguous kingdom of Granada were in the hands of every peasant were unknown to most Castilians. The flocks, once the chief source of Estremadura’s and Andalusia’s wealth, had been swept away by the alternate incursions of friend and foe. The extravagance of mistresses, the peculation of officials, the exactions of the clergy, the rapacity of the nobles, had drained the public treasury. The administration of the finances was mainly in the hands of Jews and churchmen, who thwarted each other whenever possible, and always at the expense of the state; who, not unjustly, regarded each other with suspicion; and who, in turn, were cordially hated by those on whom were imposed the onerous burdens of tribute and taxation. Successive regencies organized for plunder; the flagrant abuse of power, and the prostitution of justice to the gratification of personal revenge; the insolence of royal concubines; the sanguinary tyranny which disgraced the throne; the invasion of private rights and the insecurity of private property; the impunity of crime; the omnipresent evidences of distress and penury; the degradation of labor, and the distinction attending the prosecution of successful rapine, had embittered public sentiment, and alienated the allegiance of a gallant and romantic people who formerly held the royal dignity of Castile as second only to the omnipotent authority of God. It was a momentous crisis in the history of Spain. The existence of an extensive monarchy, the integrity of a religion hoary with the venerable traditions of thirteen hundred years, were at stake. The numerical superiority of the Moslems was overwhelming. In the Christian ranks, on the very eve of battle, dissension still reigned, and princes of the royal blood were suspected of treasonable correspondence with the enemy. Under such circumstances, when every hand was needed, the publicity of such rumors, giving rise to mutual distrust, greatly impaired the efficiency of the army. The importance of the contest was evinced by the rank of those who followed in the train of the sovereigns of Castile and Portugal. The Primate of Spain; the Archbishops of Santiago, of Seville, of Braga; the bishops of Palencia and Mondoñedo; the grand masters of every martial brotherhood in both kingdoms; the representatives of every noble house from the Pyrenees to the Mediterranean, from the frontiers of France to the shores of the Atlantic, rode in the train of the monarch. The duties of these belligerent prelates were not restricted to the celebration of masses, to the invocation of saints, to the shriving of sinners. Nearly all of them had laid aside the sacred habiliments of their profession, and appeared sheathed in mail at the head of companies of well-appointed retainers. No contemptible adversaries were they, these sturdy champions of the Cross, equally at home before the quiet altars of magnificent cathedrals or surrounded by tumult and carnage in the very front of the line of battle. Such had been the custom of members of the Christian hierarchy even before the battle of the Guadalete. The crusading character of the Moorish wars, undertaken for the spread of religion, indorsed by the infallible authority of the Pope, assisted by the generous piety of foreign princes, had imparted a martial cast to every ecclesiastical organization in the Peninsula. There were more military orders in Spain than in any other country in the world. Not only were the Templars and Hospitallers represented there by wealthy priories and commanderies, but no less than four powerful bodies of monastic knights owed their origin to the wars of the Reconquest. The influence of these military monks in politics and war was extensive and formidable. They appointed regencies. They made and unmade sovereigns. Their counsels directed the measures of great principalities and kingdoms. Under the cloak of religious austerity they concealed many odious vices, ambition, venality, licentiousness, cruelty, avarice. In conjunction with the Church, they absolutely controlled the policy of the monarchy of Castile. To no class of its subjects was that monarchy so greatly indebted for its origin, its extension, its glory, the consolidation of its power, the formation of its manners. Ecclesiastical domination, established during a crusade of seven hundred years, made possible the atrocities of the Inquisition. It placed its seal upon the national character, noticeable in the grave and haughty demeanor, the taciturn disposition, the suspicious nature of the modern Spaniard. It was not without far-reaching results that the iron grasp of episcopal despotism was placed upon a people at its formation, and continued through long and eventful centuries of alternate success and disaster. As no caste contributed so much to the greatness of Spain as the clergy, none profited so much by its opportunities. Theirs was the most opulent branch of the Catholic hierarchy in Christendom. Their primate, first in precedence among prelates of corresponding dignity, ranked next to the Pope. No other country could boast such rich benefices, such vast domains, such princely revenues; religious houses like palaces in their variegated marbles and mosaics; cathedrals which even after ages of neglect are still matchless specimens of grandeur and beauty, filled with works of art of unapproachable excellence, furnished with sacred vessels of massy gold and sparkling gems, lighted by windows whose gorgeous tints, mellowed by age, offer to the admiring and awe-stricken worshipper a veritable glimpse of Paradise. Notwithstanding all these evidences of opulence and splendor, with its boundless possibilities for human happiness and human progress, the country did not advance. Its subsequent acquisitions cursed instead of benefiting it. The present degeneracy and weakness of the Spanish monarchy afford a melancholy example of a country founded upon, sustained by, and destroyed through the influence of superstition.

On the morning of the thirtieth day of October, 1340, upon the banks of the Salado, an insignificant stream, but one destined to immortality in the annals of the Spanish Reconquest, the two great armies prepared for battle. The first intelligence of the enemy’s approach was the signal for the abandonment of the siege. The outposts were recalled. The lines of circumvallation which for so long had enclosed the suffering and famished city were deserted. The cannon and catapults whose projectiles had opened many breaches in the walls were broken up or burnt. With the first light of dawn the King of Castile and his entire army received the communion administered by the Archbishop of Toledo, whose sacerdotal robes were thrown over his armor. The decimated garrison of Tarifa, leaving its defences, took up a position in the rear of the Moslems. The left wing of the latter was commanded by Abul-Hassan; in front of him was the great standard of the Faith; in his hands the open Koran. At the right was posted Yusuf with the chivalry of Granada. In the mighty host of the invaders there was little knowledge of tactics and still less of discipline, each tribe fighting independently under the banner of its chieftain, and relying on the impetuosity of the first attack; in case of repulse equally unable to rally or by skilful evolutions to take advantage of the errors or the momentary disorder of an enemy. At this distance of time, it is impossible to even correctly approximate to the numbers of the opposing forces, as each was interested in magnifying the strength of the other, either to increase the credit of victory or to diminish the ignominy of defeat. The numerical preponderance of the Moors was, however, unquestionable. Their superiority in this respect was largely modified by the character of their adversaries. The Christian knight, sheathed with his horse in steel, was more than a match for a score of ill-armed, half-naked barbarians. A few resolute cavaliers, acting in concert, could rally many thousands of fugitives; to an undisciplined mob, once stricken with a panic, numbers were only an impediment.

Thus, upon the opposite banks of the Salado were ranged the hostile armies whose respective success or misfortune was to decide the fate of the Peninsula. After a few skirmishes the Christians succeeded in crossing the stream. A body of nobles, by a flank movement, entered the enemy’s camp and destroyed it. Alfonso XI., advancing with the main body, encountered Abul-Hassan and was at once enveloped by the entire left wing of the Moslem army. The Castilians were almost overpowered; the royal guards were struck down by a hail of missiles; and the King, in despair, was with difficulty restrained from rushing almost alone upon the lances of the enemy. At this moment the flanking party and the garrison of Tarifa fell suddenly upon the rear of the Africans. Taken by surprise, the ranks of the latter were thrown into disorder, and, the confusion spreading on all sides, they broke into flight. In another part of the field the King of Portugal was engaged with the Emir of Granada. The troops of the latter, now forced to sustain the onslaught of the entire Christian army and dispirited by the retreat of their allies, abandoned their position. Their retirement became a rout, and the immense multitude, defenceless, and crowded together in an unwieldy mass, fell an easy prey to their merciless pursuers.

Nothing is so remarkable in this decisive battle as the short time it took to gain it. But a few hours sufficed to destroy that gigantic armament which required the combined efforts of two powerful kingdoms many months to organize and bring into the field. Frightful slaughter ensued. The plain, slippery with blood, was strewed with tens of thousands of corpses. A crimson torrent rushed through the narrow and precipitous channel of the Salado. The dead far exceeded the prisoners in numbers, but the greater part of the defeated army escaped to Granada. Both the Emir and Abul-Hassan regained their capitals by sea. The harem of the Sultan of Fez, and several of his sons, who, in the vain confidence of victory, had accompanied him, fell into the hands of the Christians. The implacable character of the struggle is shown by the treatment of these helpless unfortunates, whom the savage Castilians butchered in their tents. Since the memorable day of Las Navas de Tolosa, no such a display of booty had regaled the eyes of a victorious soldiery. The quantity of gold and silver bullion was so great that the commercial value of those metals was, in consequence, decreased one-sixth throughout the kingdoms of Spain and France. The wealth represented by bracelets and necklaces, by jewelled scimetars and enamelled daggers, by spurs whose material of massy gold was entirely concealed by their sparkling settings, by heaps of gems of unusual size and dazzling brilliancy, by precious ingots, requiring the united efforts of many men to lift them, was beyond all computation. To these attractive objects were added others of less interest, perhaps, but of more utility,—magnificent saddles and housings set with sapphires and topazes; pavilions of silk brocade; garments curiously embroidered with texts from the Koran; robes stiff with cloth of gold and silver; thousands of Arabian horses renowned for swiftness, gentleness, beauty, and endurance. The money subsequently obtained from the ransom of illustrious captives formed no inconsiderable amount of the spoils of this great victory. One hundred of the finest chargers, fully caparisoned, each led by a Moor of rank in splendid apparel, the royal standard of Castile, and the captured arms and armor of the Sultan of Fez were sent to the Pope at Avignon, as evidences of the power of papal intercession and as trophies of Christian triumph.

With the defeat of the Salado disappeared the active interference of the Sultans of Africa in the affairs of the Peninsula. They no longer seemed to possess either the capacity or energy to conduct great military enterprises to a successful issue. Henceforth defensive warfare alone exercised the talents and wasted the resources of the kings of Granada, the sole representations of Saracen power in Europe, in a conflict which, protracted for nearly two centuries longer by the suicidal feuds of Spanish princes, was destined to exhibit features that seem to belong rather to the fabulous realms of romance than to the rugged domain of history; while the royal line of the Alhamares, preserving from destruction the remnants of Moorish civilization transmitted from the Western Khalifate, by the protection of the arts and the encouragement of letters, for a time seemed about to restore the glories of Cordova and to render instinct with life and vigor the fast-vanishing phantom of Moslem greatness.

Abul-Hassan justly imputed the calamity which had overtaken him to the cowardice of his allies, who fled almost before they had crossed swords with their adversaries; and, henceforth, the struggling Moslems of Granada were abandoned to their own resources against the combined and overwhelming energy of the Christian powers.

Two years after the battle of the Salado, Alfonso XI. laid siege to Algeziras. For nineteen months the garrison held out against the entire forces of the Castilian monarchy. An ineffectual attempt was made by the Emir of Granada to relieve the city; but the memory of the recent catastrophe was too vivid, and the troops of that kingdom could not be driven to encounter their terrible enemies in battle. Algeziras surrendered, and its inhabitants and garrison were permitted to retire under a safe-conduct; the former with their personal effects, the latter with their arms and the honors of war.

The capture of Gibraltar was the next enterprise which claimed the attention of the martial King of Castile. In the year 1349, this stronghold, whose position and defensive works had made it proverbially impregnable, was invested. Unable to carry it by storm, an attempt was made to reduce it by famine. The siege had lasted a year, when, the plague having broken out in the Castilian camp, Alfonso became one of the first victims, leaving the crown to his son, Pedro el Cruel, a name of hideous import in the annals of royal infamy. The magnanimous courtesy of the Moslems was never more conspicuously exhibited than on this melancholy occasion. The Emir of Granada, who was encamped in the rear of the Christian army, permitted the funeral cortege to proceed to Seville without molestation, and many cavaliers of his court assumed mourning in honor of the deceased sovereign, the oppressor of their countrymen and the enemy of their faith.

The remaining years of Yusuf were passed in peace. The series of misfortunes, which, in melancholy succession, had afflicted the Moslem arms, were, for the time, suspended. In Castile, the dissensions incident to a minority again distracted that kingdom; again the factious nobles contended for political supremacy by conspiracy and rebellion; again the course of justice was interrupted; again the royal dignity was degraded and fell into general contempt. Thus relieved from the heretofore omnipresent fear of invasion, the kingdom of Granada was enabled to pursue, without interruption, its course in the progressive march of civilization. The treasures formerly employed in the unprofitable operations of war were now expended in the development and application of the arts of peace. Pre-eminently fortunate in the character of its princes, the dynasty of the Alhamares produced no superior to Yusuf in every noble trait and aspiration which can contribute either dignity or honor to the reputation of a king. Passionately devoted to building, the most magnificent apartments of the Alhambra were constructed during his reign and under his personal supervision. At this epoch were realized those conceptions of architectural genius which rendered that splendid edifice without a parallel among the most sumptuous abodes of royalty. In imitation of its beauties, scores of mansions and villas were erected in the city and its environs by the illustrious nobles of Granada. In the plan of these magnificent palaces the prevailing tastes and customs of the Orient were universally observed. The courts were surrounded by columns of white marble and alabaster, whose capitals were carved of massy silver, whose shafts were often covered with gold. The stuccoes were painted scarlet, green, and blue; upon this brilliant background in high relief appeared with bewildering variety a maze of sacred legends, of geometric tracery, of intertwined arabesques, all gilded, and shining with gorgeous splendor. The pavements and dadoes of the courts and halls were alike composed of mosaics disposed in a thousand fantastic patterns; the balusters of the galleries and the beams of the ceilings of larch and cedar were carved and inlaid with ebony, mother-of-pearl, tortoise-shell, and ivory; in the flower-beds the tropical luxuriance and brilliancy of choice and fragrant blossoms reproduced with wonderful fidelity the designs, the texts, and the tracery of the walls. On every side was a profuse abundance of water; a reminiscence of that greatest of blessings to the sojourners in the hot and arid atmosphere of the Desert, the simple and abstemious progenitors of the proud lords of these stately edifices, sybarites in fastidiousness, familiar to satiety with every refinement of vice and luxury. Introduced through great aqueducts, from reservoirs in the Sierra fed by melting snows, it was distributed in every form which human ingenuity could devise for the benefit or gratification of man. It shone in basins of alabaster filled with goldfish. It coursed through the tiny channels of conduits in hall and vestibule. It displayed the hues of the rainbow in the fountains of garden and court-yard. It ran swiftly in the balustrades of marble staircases, at each landing throwing up a sparkling jet to the height of many feet. And lastly in the bath, that indispensable requisite of the abode of every wealthy and conscientious Moslem, it was lavished with a prodigality and convenience unknown even to the luxurious Roman in the most fortunate days of the Empire.

It was not only in the encouragement of architecture that the practical genius of Yusuf found employment. His attainments as a scholar far surpassed his knowledge of, or his capacity for, government. There were few branches of science known in that age with which he was not familiar. In astronomy and chemistry his learning was especially extensive and accurate. It was during his reign that the famous Ibn-Beithar, the first botanist, physician, and natural philosopher of his time, travelled under the patronage of his sovereign through every accessible country of the world with a view to the improvement of medical science and the acquisition of botanical information. The measures taken by Yusuf to improve the condition of his subjects were adapted to every grade of society, to all branches of industry, to the regulation and practice of religious ceremonies, to the encouragement and direction of intellectual progress. His enlightened mind perceived at a glance the steps required to confer a public benefit or to correct a grievous abuse. His edicts prescribed the performance of the often neglected ritual of Islam; they defined and enforced the injunctions of cleanliness, of regularity, of formality in worship—that the believer should always live within hearing of the call to prayer; that with every twelve houses a mosque should be erected; they recalled the meritorious character of duties to the poor and the helpless; the protection of the orphan; the visitation of the sick; the distribution of alms. They regulated the police of cities, fixed the hours for opening and closing the gates, and appointed for each ward a magistrate responsible for the preservation of order. They enjoined the prosecution of military operations with humanity, and severely prohibited injury to non-combatants or molestation of the peaceful ministers of a hostile religion. The barbarous punishments instituted by Koranic law were greatly modified by the generous indulgence of Yusuf, who not infrequently permitted the mitigation of a sentence where the severity of the penalty was disproportionate to the nature of the crime. Public edifices of great size and palatial character, mints and universities, mosques and arsenals, were multiplied throughout his dominions during his reign. By importations from Arabia, by the institution of rewards, by the publication of ordinances, he improved the breed of Andalusian horses, even before that time famous in Europe. In the manly pride of health and vigor, this great monarch, the representative of an advanced civilization, the patron of learning, the father of his people, came to an ignoble and untimely end. An assassin, so obscure that the chronicles neither mention his name nor disclose his motive, stabbed him while performing his devotions in the mosque. His murder was probably the act of a fanatic or the culmination of a plot contrived by some unprincipled aspirant to the throne, whose identity was not discovered and whose treason certainly failed of its object. Mourned by every class of his subjects, Yusuf was buried in the royal vault of the Alhambra, where his marble sarcophagus, inscribed with a lengthy and pompous epitaph, once resplendent with blue and gold, still remains.

The accession of his son Mohammed V. in the midst of peace seemed to promise a long and happy reign. The Castilians were too busily employed in fighting each other to concern themselves about their Moslem neighbors. Their King, Pedro el Cruel, who considered a large proportion of his subjects in the light of personal enemies, had already, by his sanguinary measures, earned the ferocious appellation by which he is known to posterity.

The new Emir possessed all the noble attributes which characterized the most distinguished of his predecessors,—affability, generosity, courage, solicitude for the happiness of his subjects, devotion to letters. But his gentle disposition lacked the sternness and resolution indispensable to a sovereign whose empire included so many discordant national and political elements. Of simpler tastes than his father, he at once banished from the precincts of the court that herd of cringing parasites who live by flattery and corruption,—consumers of the public revenues, ministers of pride and sensuality. In their place he substituted a number of dignified and capable officials of approved integrity and wide experience. This step, while it increased the popular respect, created a number of treacherous and formidable enemies, the effects of whose secret animosity were soon disclosed. The generosity of Mohammed had assigned to his step-mother and her sons as a residence the palace of the Alcazar, not far from the Alhambra, and, while of less extent, almost rivalling it in beauty and splendor. This woman, whose ambition was boundless, had permitted the thirst of avarice to predominate over the natural sentiments of grief, and had taken advantage of the confusion resulting from the assassination of her husband to secretly abstract a large quantity of gold and jewels from the public treasury. By means of this, with the design of raising her eldest son Ismail to the throne, she corrupted princes of the blood and representatives of powerful families, some of whom had been driven from the court by the political reformation instituted by the Emir. When the plot was ripe, a hundred picked men scaled the walls of the Alhambra at night. The sentinels, unsuspicious of danger, were killed at their posts. Distracted by the suddenness of the attack, and deceived by the cries of the assailants and the movements of their torches which magnified their numbers, the garrison fled. Oblivious of the object of the enterprise, and tempted by the riches about them, the insurgents at once gave themselves up to plunder. Through the devotion of a favorite slave, Mohammed was provided with female clothing, and escaped through one of the secret subterranean passages that connected the Alhambra with the other royal abodes of the city. Swift horses soon carried the fugitives to Guadix, whose loyalty was unshaken; Ismail was proclaimed Emir, under the direction of his brother-in-law, Abu-Said; and another revolution, with its train of evils—discontent, proscription, confiscation, and wide-spread calamity—was inaugurated to embitter the factions and undermine the power of the fair and happy kingdom of Granada. The efforts of Mohammed to recover his crown proving fruitless, he undertook a journey to Africa to enlist, if possible, the sympathy and support of Abu-Selim, the Sultan of Fez. Received with every courtesy, a large army was placed at his disposal and transported to Andalusia; but the death of Abu-Selim, and the accession of another prince, either neutral or unfriendly to the aspirations of the dethroned sovereign, caused the recall of the troops before they had begun operations. Thwarted thus by his allies, Mohammed now had recourse to the King of Castile. His appeal was heard, and a Christian army was assembled to effect his restoration. In the mean time, the idle and voluptuous character of Ismail, combined with the arbitrary assumption of authority by Abu-Said, had aroused the hatred and contempt of his subjects. Those feelings were not diminished by the bloody usurpation of Abu-Said, who caused the reigning prince and his brothers to be murdered, and then took formal possession of the throne which he had already occupied, so far as the actual government of the kingdom was concerned. The Christian forces entered Granada; the smaller towns at once signified their submission; there remained nothing to be taken but the capital and its Vega; when Mohammed, affected by the sight of the sufferings incident to the progress of an invading army, abandoned his project, and requested the retirement of his allies. Rather than inflict upon his people the misery which must inevitably result from a siege of the capital by an army alien to his people in nationality and religion, unrestrained by discipline, and careless of the dictates of humanity or the usages of war, he was prepared to renounce his royal inheritance.

Despite the discomfiture of his rival, the universal odium entertained towards Abu-Said on account of his tyranny, as well as for his crimes, rendered the stability of his power so uncertain that he determined to temporarily abandon his kingdom. As a preliminary step, he restored, without ransom and loaded with valuable gifts, a number of Castilian cavaliers, including the brother-in-law of the King, all of whom had been taken in a marauding expedition; and, in return for this unusual generosity, requested their mediation to induce Pedro el Cruel to espouse his cause. The daily increase of Mohammed’s influence, the desertion of important cities, among them the stronghold of Malaga, the treachery of his partisans, who, in increasing numbers, constantly resorted to the hostile camp, determined Abu-Said to confide no longer in the doubtful loyalty of his courtiers, tempted by every consideration of personal interest and political advantage to betray him. Attended by a considerable retinue of those who still remained faithful to his decaying fortunes, he left his kingdom and threw himself upon the royal honor and hospitality of Pedro el Cruel at Seville. A more unfortunate and ill-timed resolution had never been entertained by a despairing monarch. With an eye to future contingencies, he had collected and taken with him all the wealth which the treasury of Granada, depleted by continuous peculation, mismanagement, and theft, contained. This, however inconsiderable when compared with the riches of former times, was more than sufficient to arouse the cupidity of a perfidious king, often almost reduced to penury by extravagance, and absolutely unscrupulous as to the means of supplying his necessities. The Moors, in the presence of a hostile court, displayed with ostentatious profusion all the rare and tempting objects of luxury so coveted by the poverty-stricken Castilians,—horses of the finest Arabian blood; sumptuous housings shining with gold and silver embroidery; lances, javelins, and scimetars, elaborately inlaid, and set with jewels; coffers filled with precious stones of extraordinary size and beauty—rubies, emeralds, sapphires, pearls, and hyacinths; quantities of rich stuffs of silk and cloth of gold. The apparel of the most plainly attired noble who attended the exiled Moslem prince far surpassed in elegance and value the garments of the Castilian sovereign. The effects of the folly which permitted such a display by persons assuming the character of suppliants soon became apparent. The King received his guests with much ceremony and apparent cordiality. Abu-Said was lodged in the Alcazar, as became his royal rank, and his attendants were distributed through the Jewish Quarter, a locality near the palace and easily accessible to the soldiery, which traversed by a labyrinth of narrow and crooked lanes enclosed by lofty walls was a veritable prison from which there was no escape. The resolution of Don Pedro had already been taken. The sight of this great wealth within his grasp was too much for his equanimity. It was true that the Moors were in his capital under the royal safe-conduct, as well as with his personal assurance of protection. It was notorious that the laws of hospitality were respected by even the lowest races of men, and were by no people more highly regarded than by the Arab ancestors of his guests. In a formal audience, surrounded by all the evidences of civil pomp and military array, he had solemnly pledged his word to carefully examine the respective claims of the contestants for the throne of Granada, both of whom acknowledged themselves his vassals, and to decide impartially between them. These considerations, however, weighed but little with the treacherous monarch. The fact that he was the suzerain of Abu-Said afforded him a ready pretext for prompt and decisive action. Under feudal law he could dispose of the property and life of an unfaithful vassal. The Moslems, invited to a banquet, were seized by the guard. All were searched, and the jewels and money concealed on their persons confiscated. Thrown into prison, they remained for two days in suspense; on the third, they were conducted to a plain outside the city and fastened to stakes. In mockery of his rank, Abu-Said was clothed in a scarlet robe, and, mounted upon an ass, led the melancholy procession to the place of execution. Thirty-seven of his retinue, including several personages of the highest distinction, shared his fate. These deluded victims of their own credulity were used as marks for the lances of the nobles of Don Pedro’s court; and the King himself gave the signal by a thrust which pierced the body of his most distinguished guest. The heads of the murdered Moslems were sent to Mohammed as a testimonial of the friendship of his suzerain, and as an indication that the power of the faction which had dethroned and exiled him was broken.

Whatever might be the moral aspect of this transaction, it was certainly advantageous to the King of Castile both in a financial and political point of view. Enormous wealth was obtained by the spoliation resulting from an unparalleled act of perfidy. There was not a Moor who had not in his effects or on his person treasures of great value. The pages, as least liable to suspicion, were the custodians of the most precious jewels. From one was taken a necklace of a hundred pearls as large as filberts; from another, who wore a leathern girdle, seven hundred and twenty-three rubies; the search of a third revealed three of the same stones of the size of pigeon-eggs and of extraordinary brilliancy; almost a peck of beautiful pearls was found upon a fourth. The gems of inferior lustre, or less highly prized, sapphires, hyacinths, and turquoises, with embossed and damascened arms and armor and gold in coin and bullion, were scarcely less valuable, and far exceeded the booty ordinarily yielded by a marauding expedition. In addition to the pecuniary profit derived from this outrage of the rites of hospitality, the power of Don Pedro was materially strengthened by it. The removal of a dangerous enemy, and the destruction of a party whose influence had been sufficient to subvert the royal succession, must necessarily insure the gratitude and support of Mohammed, who was indebted to it for his restoration to power. The Castilians, entirely controlled by the principles of the time, viewed with indifference a breach of faith which, however reprehensible when committed against a Christian, was almost meritorious when it involved the sacrifice and plunder of an infidel. Mohammed received with mingled joy and abhorrence the information of the death of his rival, and, amidst the real or pretended rejoicings of the people, again ascended the throne. Magnificent presents—horses and trappings, jewels and gold— were sent to Don Pedro as tokens of gratitude, and a perpetual treaty of alliance was soon after ratified between the courts of Castile and Granada.

In the domestic and foreign disturbances which oppressed the Castilian monarchy during the troubled reign of Don Pedro, the Andalusian Moslems remained the steadfast adherents of the Christian king. They served in the war with Aragon. They rendered substantial and timely aid in the implacable contest which, in spite of their efforts, finally established the political supremacy of the bastard line of Trastamara. During the siege of Cordova, animated by the sight of their famous temple, the holy mosque of the Ommeyade khalifs, they scaled the walls in the face of a desperate resistance and took the Alcazar under the very shadow of the ancient Moslem shrine. The city was almost within their grasp and must have fallen had their efforts been seconded by their Christian allies with half the resolution they themselves displayed. In the battles of Najera and Montiel, so vital to the fortunes of Don Pedro, the one confirming for a brief period his waning power, the other involving the forfeit of his life and crown, the Moorish soldiers of Granada, intrusted with the safety of the royal person, displayed a fidelity and a heroism far surpassing that of the Castilian chivalry, oppressed by tyranny, corrupted by intrigue, and continually wavering in their political inclinations through the tempting inducements of the rival camps.

From the battle of Montiel, which closed the career of Don Pedro I., to the death of Mohammed in 1391, the kingdom of Granada enjoyed, with but few trifling exceptions, the blessings of peace. The Emir, a few months after the accession of Henry II., stormed the city of Algeziras, and, unable to retain it, razed its fortifications, and filled up the harbor. The defences were subsequently restored, but so effectually was the port obstructed that its commodiousness was destroyed, and, in consequence, the commercial and strategic importance of the place was greatly diminished. An occasional border foray, undertaken by irresponsible marauders in times of internal commotion when the restraints of royal authority were barely tolerated or scarcely acknowledged, was the only interruption of a cessation of hostilities maintained, on the one hand, by policy and choice, and, on the other, by necessity, which lasted twenty-two years. The prudence of Yusuf II., the son and successor of Mohammed V., at once suggested and obtained a renewal of the treaty which had long united the two kingdoms, and whose existence had been so propitious to the security, the wealth, and the happiness of Granada.

In 1394, Don Martin Yañez de Barbudo, Grand Master of Alcantara, Portuguese by birth, fanatic by nature, and adventurer from inclination, sent to the Emir of Granada an absurd defiance, whose grandiloquent terms recall the extravagances of the romances of chivalry. Raising the banner of the crusade, which bore the green cross of his order, at the head of eighteen hundred followers he advanced to the conquest of a populous kingdom, which astrological calculation and the suspicious predictions of a hermit had assured him he would easily achieve. The remonstrances of provincial governors, and the peremptory commands of the King, who saw with indignation this unprovoked attack upon a friendly power, were insufficient to divert him from his purpose, which he declared was sanctioned by the Almighty and confirmed by many portentous visions and miracles. The Moors permitted this band of fanatics to approach within a few miles of their capital. It was then surrounded by an army of a hundred thousand men and annihilated. Not a single Christian escaped. The knowledge that the expedition had been undertaken contrary to the orders of the King of Castile prevented a rupture between the two kingdoms. About this time, Yusuf died suddenly, an event attributed, through the Oriental love of the marvellous, to a poisoned mantle sent him by the Sultan of Fez. He was succeeded by his second son, Mohammed VI., whose intriguing and ambitious spirit had long since prompted him to subvert the hereditary right of his elder brother Yusuf in order to obtain the crown. Yusuf was confined, with his harem, in the castle of Salobreña, where, although furnished with every luxury suitable to his rank, he was subjected to strict restraint and constant espionage. Solicitous concerning the validity of his title, and apprehensive of the manner in which his usurpation might be regarded by the Castilian king, Mohammed formed a romantic design, eminently characteristic of the manners of the East, and whose danger and novelty, added to the attractiveness of an enterprise remarkable for its boldness, were almost a guaranty of success. In the character of his own ambassador, with a retinue of twenty splendidly mounted and appointed cavaliers, he traversed, unrecognized alike by his subjects and his Christian neighbors, the provinces of his own and the states of the Castilian kingdom as far as Toledo. A renewal of the treaty of alliance was readily obtained from Henry III.; and the Emir returned to Granada secure, for the time, from a renewal of hostilities from an adversary whose supremacy every reflecting statesman in the Peninsula felt could not be much longer delayed.

In 1406, serious trouble having arisen on the frontier, in consequence of mutual depredations, King Henry summoned the Cortes with the avowed object of using all the available resources of the monarchy for the final subjugation of the Moslems of Granada. His sudden death, and the occurrence of another long minority with its inevitable series of plots and disasters, prevented the realization of this project; and the existence of the Moorish kingdom, which fortune seemed to have made the especial object of her favor, was protracted for nearly eighty-five years longer. The demise of the king, however, only deferred for a short time the prosecution of hostilities. The restless spirit of the Spanish chivalry, nourished by war and sedition, was never content with the formal and tedious ceremonial of the court. The perils of the battle-field; the surprise of an isolated fortress; the foray, with its excitements and its spoil; the flocks and herds of the rich pastures; the treasures of splendid villas; the beauty and fascinations of the inmates of princely harems,—these were at once the school of the Christian cavaliers, the objects of their highest aspirations, the incentives of their warlike and vainglorious ambition. The enthusiasm aroused by the crusading enterprise of Henry III., while somewhat cooled, was far from being dissipated by his death. A large sum was voted by the Cortes. The cities of Leon and Castile resounded with preparations for the conflict. A fleet of twenty-three galleys, equipped by the Emirs of Tunis and Tlemcen and sent to aid the Spanish Moslems, was defeated and destroyed in the Strait of Gibraltar by an inferior force under the Admiral of Castile. Mohammed, well aware of the plans of his enemies, endeavored to anticipate them by invading the province of Jaen with a numerous army, and began the siege of that city. Information of the approach of a Christian force caused him to make an inglorious retreat without a battle. On the way he stormed Bedmar, where, out of a numerous population, less than one hundred prisoners survived to experience the bitterness of slavery. In return, the Christians took the strong outpost of Zahara, and ravaged without mercy the fertile environs of Ronda.

In 1408, Mohammed, at the head of twenty thousand soldiers, besieged Alcaudete. The spirit of Arab tactics, intolerable of delay and unreliable in the face of strong walls and obstinate resistance, faltered before the determined courage of the garrison. Both Christians and Moslems had suffered greatly during this war, which had hitherto yielded no perceptible advantage to either; a suspension of hostilities for eight months was readily agreed to; and the Castilians, to whom a temporary respite was even more advantageous than to their adversaries, having previously exhausted their available resources by the enrolment of troops, now with forty million maravedis in the treasury, impatiently expected the expiration of the truce.

In the mean time, Mohammed VI., stricken with a fatal disease, was admonished by his physicians that he had but a short time to live. Recognizing that the life of his brother, still detained in the castle of Salobreña, might prove a serious obstacle to the prospects of his own son whom he had destined to succeed him, he sent a peremptory order to the alcalde of Salobreña to send him the head of Yusuf by the messenger. The alcalde received the latter while playing chess with the imprisoned prince, whose affable manners, engaging address, and unmerited misfortunes had won the esteem of all his guards and attendants. The manifest agitation of his companion revealed to Yusuf, ever in expectation of such a catastrophe, the serious nature of the despatch. Acquainted with its import, the prince begged for a few hours’ delay to bid farewell to his family; but the command was urgent, and the messenger, a standard-bearer of the Emir, accustomed to implicit and instant compliance, demanded its immediate execution. It was finally agreed that a respite should be granted until the conclusion of the game. Short as the time was, it had not elapsed when two nobles of the court arrived, and, with every mark of respect and homage, saluted Yusuf as Emir of Granada.

Mohammed VI. had suddenly expired; his subjects, recognizing the superior claims of the unfortunate Yusuf, had repudiated his nephew; and the sorrowing prisoner, under sentence of death and with but a few moments to live, saw himself raised in an instant from the lowest depths of misfortune to the throne of a powerful kingdom and the absolute sovereignty of more than a million souls. The accession of Yusuf was followed by the usual embassy, bearing rich presents to the Castilian court; his advances were met with courtesy; and the personal hostility to Mohammed having been terminated by his death, a new truce for two years was without difficulty concluded. At its expiration in 1410, Yusuf, in accordance with the wise policy which had for so long governed the Moslem princes of his line, attempted to obtain its renewal. His request was insolently refused, and he was offered the alternative of vassalage and tribute or war. He chose the latter; assembled an army of a hundred and thirty thousand men, and met the Christians who were about to besiege Antequera. The Moors, despite their superior numbers, were routed in a bloody engagement; their country was laid waste; and Antequera was taken by Ferdinand, uncle of the King, chief of the regency, and practically ruler of the kingdom. His success he piously attributed to the sword of St. Ferdinand, a priceless souvenir of victory long deposited in the Cathedral of Seville, and which, in this as in former campaigns, had been carried in battle, where it was supposed to exert the miraculous powers of a sacred relic, as well as the more appropriate virtues of a military talisman. Peace was soon afterwards established conditionally upon the liberation of several hundred Christian captives by the Emir of Granada.

The Moslems of Gibraltar, subject to the extortion and tyranny of a grasping alcalde and seeing no prospect of relief, communicated secretly with the Sultan of Fez, and offered to deliver to him the fortress. That monarch, seeing in this proposition an opportunity to disembarrass himself of his brother Abu-Said, whose talents and popularity already menaced the continuance of his power, despatched him to Gibraltar with two thousand men. The agreement was kept by the citizens; the gates were opened; the Africans occupied the city; and the alcalde with the garrison took refuge in the citadel. In a short time, Ahmed, son of Yusuf, arrived with a large detachment of troops, and the Africans, engaged in front and rear, were compelled to surrender. The prince, Sidi-Abu-Said, was taken to Granada, where he received the attentions due to his distinguished rank.

As soon as these facts became known to the Sultan of Fez, he despatched messengers to the Emir, requesting the murder of his brother, both as a measure of safety to himself and an evidence of friendship from his neighbor. The generous nature of Yusuf revolted at the proposal. He showed the letter to his prisoner; tendered him his sympathy and his assistance; and sent him with a force of picked men and a great treasure to avenge his wrongs and drive his inhuman brother from the throne. The Sultan was defeated near his capital and died in prison; Sidi-Abu-Said seized the crown without further opposition; and the disinterested generosity of Yusuf cemented anew the relations of the two Moorish kingdoms, so frequently interrupted by national jealousy, sectarian discord, and the projects of unscrupulous ambition.

For the remainder of his life, no further hostilities occurred to vex the repose of Yusuf, and a career begun in trouble and persecution was passed amidst the pleasures and amusements of an enduring peace. The cavaliers of Castile and Aragon, who had deserved the jealousy or provoked the resentment of their respective sovereigns, found in the Moslem court a refuge from the vengeance of their enemies, and their feuds were sometimes permanently reconciled through the mediation and the good offices of the Moorish king. In the same manner, he was not infrequently appealed to for the settlement of disputes which had arisen between the haughty Christian knights. Opportunities were afforded, in accordance with the chivalric custom of the age, for the decision of these quarrels by a contest of arms. The lists were placed in the famous Plaza de la Bab-al-Rambla, in the heart of the Moslem capital. Every formality of the tourney, as known and exercised by the most refined and polished people in Europe, was observed,—the proclamation by heralds, the adherence to the established rules of knighthood, the practice of dignified courtesy, the presentation of favors, the distribution of the rewards of valor and address by the hands of beauty. The attractiveness of the spectacle was enhanced by the character of the surroundings, by the splendor of the costumes, by the romantic features of the encounter, by the presence of the monarch, by the charms of the beautiful Moorish women. The quaint old houses with their overhanging balconies and sculptured lattices were hung with silken tapestry and garlanded with flowers. From them, the ladies of the court, whom the liberal customs of the Andalusian Moor allowed to appear unveiled, looked down upon an exhibition of daring horsemanship and dexterity in the use of weapons to which modern equestrian exercises offer no parallel and can afford no adequate conception. Their garments of silk, curiously embroidered, were of every color; their dark tresses glittered with jewels; about their necks were strings of enormous pearls and many chains of gold. Upon a balcony more elevated than the rest sat the Emir, the judge of the combat, with rows of black eunuchs and mamelukes in magnificent uniforms and armed with gleaming weapons grouped around him. The heralds, whose tabards were emblazoned with the armorial bearings and cipher of the monarch, proclaimed the mutual defiance of the champions, enforced compliance with the regulations of the lists, and prevented the excited contestants from exceeding the limits prescribed by the rules of chivalric honor and deferential courtesy. Second only to the rewards of military renown were the distinctions of the tourney and the tilt of reeds among the dashing Moorish cavaliers, passionately fond of every martial exercise and of every pastime which required the exhibition of activity and skill.

In ordinary encounters, as well as in the more serious contests of the Castilian champions presided over by Yusuf, blood was rarely spilled. The impetuosity of the ruder Christian knights, whose customs demanded a serious duel in satisfaction of injured honor, was restrained by the politic Emir, who used every effort to pacify his infuriated guests and to change their enmity into temporary if not lasting friendship. This course, indicative of the noble generosity and inherent justice of his nature, obtained for him the highest esteem and popularity at the Castilian court. The confidence reposed in him, the admiration evinced for his talents and his integrity by the hereditary foes of his nationality and his creed, are the most unequivocal testimonials of the greatness of his character. The dowager Queen of Castile maintained a regular and intimate correspondence with him, and presents were frequently exchanged between them. The asperities of war were softened by this friendly intercourse; the condition of the frontiers, always unsettled, became more peaceful; and, in the midst of hostilities, Christian captives were frequently liberated without ransom.

Under the pacific reign of Yusuf, Granada increased in wealth, in all the vices engendered by the abuse of luxury, and in that effeminacy so fatal to military power and so characteristic of general decadence. His death ushered in a period of civil wars and general disorder, insignificant when considered singly, but which collectively portended the ruin of a nation.

Mohammed VII., the son of Yusuf, received from his father a kingdom in appearance powerful, but in fact without stability in its institutions or loyalty among its people. The calamities of his reign, the result of his arrogance and want of tact, procured for him the appellation of Al-Hayzari, The Left-Handed, rather a synonym of misfortune than a nick-name of awkwardness. Far from imitating the virtues of his father, he seemed to cultivate the dislike of his subjects by his neglect of their welfare and by his insufferable pride. The viziers and great officers of the court received at his hands as little consideration as the eunuchs and slaves. He refused audiences to the people, long accustomed to the patriarchal method of redressing wrongs inherited from the informal administration of justice by the sheiks of the Desert. Adopting the unpopular custom of the Orient, so inconsistent with the traditions and the practice of Islam, he secluded himself within the walls of the palace. The martial amusements of chivalry were prohibited. The populace were deprived of their games and festivals. All classes of society were soon united in the hatred of their monarch; he was deposed and driven to Tunis, and his cousin, Mohammed VIII., Al-Zaguer, ascended the throne. His first act was to exile the powerful family of the Abencerrages, whose intrigues with the King of Castile and the Emir of Tunis eventually accomplished his ruin. Mohammed-al-Hayzari was restored, and Al-Zaguer, eminent for political and literary talents, dexterous in military exercises, and possessed of every quality which contributes to the power and popularity of kings, was dethroned and beheaded. In return for the substantial aid afforded him, the Castilian king demanded the payment of an annual tribute and the acknowledgment of vassalage from Al-Hayzari. This being refused, another conspiracy was hatched, with Yusuf-Ibn-Alahmar, a wealthy noble of royal descent, at its head. His success was assured by the support of a powerful faction which, with a Castilian army, encountered the forces of the Emir at the base of the Sierra Elvira. The battle which ensued was one of the most bloody and destructive recorded in Moorish history. The Emir was overwhelmingly defeated; and another engagement, scarcely less disastrous, completely destroyed the power of Al-Hayzari, who was a second time driven into exile. His advanced age and the grave responsibilities of government shortened the life of Yusuf-Ibn-Alahmar, whose reign lasted only six months. His death was the signal for the return of Al-Hayzari, whom the fickle populace, which had twice expelled him, received with every token of joy and loyalty. The unpopularity of this monarch, who had learned nothing from adversity, extended even to members of his family, and his own nephews conspired against him. One of them, Ibn-Othman, by the lavish distribution of gold among the mob of the capital, excited a riot, seized the Alhambra, and threw his uncle into prison. His triumph was of short duration, however, for another nephew, Ibn-Ismail, with the support of the Christians, usurped the crown of Granada, now become the prize of every daring adventurer. The civil war between the two princes lasted for several years, with incalculable damage to the country and the people. The struggle was prolonged by the intrigues of Castile, through whose assistance the supremacy of Ibn-Ismail was finally secured. These serious commotions, which absorbed and exhausted the resources of the monarchy by the destruction of its wealth and the diminution of its population, left neglected and almost forgotten the fortresses of the frontier, the bulwarks of its safety, and the guarantees of its power. Many of these by voluntary relinquishment or by conquest passed into the hands of the Castilians, among them Gibraltar, the most important of all, which was surprised and taken by the Duke of Medina-Sidonia in 1462.

At the death of Ismail, in 1466, his eldest son, Muley Hassan, ascended the throne. A bitter foe of the Christians, he had more than once, while a mere youth, resented their interference in aid of pretenders and would-be usurpers, a feeling which became intensified a hundred-fold when he assumed the supreme direction of affairs. His implacable temper, the ferocity of his manners, his flagrant disregard of treaties, his pitiless forays, which gave no quarter and left behind a smoky waste, struck terror into the hearts of his enemies. The forces of the kingdom were at that time engaged in suppressing the rebellion of the alcalde of Malaga, brother of the monarch and claimant of the succession. In the palace, the plots of the inmates of the harem—rival wives who aimed at the exaltation of their progeny to royal power—disturbed the peace and further embittered the naturally morose disposition of the King, already irritated by the ingratitude of his kinsmen and the bloody experiences of incessant war and rebellion.

An important crisis, ever memorable in Moorish annals, was now reached in the affairs of Granada. For nearly two hundred years that kingdom had gradually, but none the less surely, been approaching dissolution. The political conditions which foster individual heroism, the patriotic loyalty which preserves a prosperous empire, imperceptibly diminishing with each succeeding generation, had finally disappeared. The expansive power so marked in the early ages of Islam, and especially conspicuous in the conquest and occupation of the Peninsula, no longer existed. The principle of hereditary right, practically unknown to the Arabs, adopted only for convenience by their descendants, frequently abrogated by the arbitrary will or the uncertain caprice of monarchs, and always weak among polygamous nations, was no longer recognized by the Andalusian Moslems. This custom, although weak in theory, had been one of the safeguards of the royal succession, and consequently an assurance of stability of government and of security to the citizen. Now, however, a swarm of pretenders disputed with each other the possession of the throne. The inheritance of royal blood, the possession of great wealth, the enjoyment of popular favor, were qualifications, any one of which was sufficient to tempt an adventurer to aspire to the crown of the Alhamares. Even the spirit of tribal loyalty, an ancient legacy of the Arab, had been weakened by a rapid succession of rulers of uncertain title and obscure antecedents. The populace was debauched by the gold which the leaders of every revolt scattered with prodigal hand. Successive irruptions of a score of tribes and nations, of fanatics of hostile sects and barbarian manners, had destroyed the comparatively homogeneous character at one time so noticeable in the inhabitants of Granada. The selfish vices peculiar to mercantile communities, the timidity incident to the holding of great possessions and the control of vast commercial interests, had engendered a spirit of cowardice, which was willing to purchase even when it was able to defend. The martial spirit which had once inspired a nation of warriors, bent upon proselytism and conquest, was extinct. Military ardor and ambition existed, it is true, among the higher classes which had adopted the profession of arms, but the number of the latter was comparatively insignificant, and their achievements were limited to the irregular operations of the foray. The levies summoned to battle by the sudden exigencies of war scarcely deserved the name of soldiers. Without discipline or obedience, often without weapons, they were little better than a disorderly rabble, whose first onset once repulsed caused them to flee incontinently from the field. While the arts of civilization had progressed in such an unparalleled degree, the science of war had remained stationary or had actually retrograded. The tactics of the Spanish Moors of the fifteenth century were still the ancient tactics of the Desert. Heavy-armed cavaliers they had none; foot-soldiers were represented by untrained peasants, armed largely with the implements of domestic use and husbandry. Their light-horse, however, were the finest troops of the kind in Europe. The rapidity of their evolutions, the ambuscade, the feigned retreat, the sudden rally, often confounded, to his sorrow, the rash and unguarded pursuer. This superiority, formidable as it was, was not sufficient to save, or even to protect, the kingdom. The vulnerable character of the military organization of the Moslems of Granada was disclosed by the number of important battles fought within sight and almost under the shadow of the walls of their capital. The incursions of an active foe ravaged, almost without interference, the fairest portions of their territory. The endurance of Moorish dominion, protracted for two centuries beyond the natural term of a nation in the age of its decadence, is to be chiefly attributed to two causes,—the natural obstacles which formed the frontiers of the monarchy, and the incessant discord of its neighbors. On one side of Granada a chain of rugged mountains, whose passes were defended by well-fortified castles, on the other, the sea, intercepted the progress of the invader. In the long interval between the death of Ferdinand IV. and the union of the crowns of Castile and Aragon, minor princes came to the throne. The advent of each, and the regency which ensued, were signalized by dissensions, intrigue, conspiracy, and revolt. But, while turmoil and sedition weakened Castile in one respect, it strengthened it immensely in another. Its people, from the highest to the lowest, became accustomed to the presence of danger, convinced of the necessity of discipline, familiar with the use of arms. In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries there were scarcely any manufacturers in the Christian dominions but those of weapons and armor. The specimens of these existing in museums to-day disclose the perfection of strength and elegance to which their fabrication had attained. The swords forged upon the Tagus were, even then, unequalled for the excellence of their steel and their wonderful durability. The product of the Spanish armorer was proof against the fiercest assault of the battle or the tourney. In weight, in stature, in endurance, in religious fervor, in martial enthusiasm, the Castilian knight was far superior to his Moslem antagonist. During the Moorish wars and the contemporaneous domestic seditions was formed the model of the invincible Spanish infantry, destined in the next century to become the dread and the admiration of Europe. Heretofore the Moors had had the power of the Castilian monarchy alone to contend with; now, however, they were to encounter the combined forces of the various kingdoms of the Peninsula, moving grimly and irresistibly forward to the attainment of a single end. In the ensuing catastrophe, a great people—learned, hospitable, accomplished, industrious, ingenious, long inspired by the most noble incentives which have ever directed the course of human progress—were to be abandoned to extortion, robbery, persecution, and exile; a land whose natural fertility had been enhanced a hundred-fold by the patient labor and inventive talent of man was to be swept clean by the desolating tempest of war; and a civilization, far surpassing that of any country in that age in the knowledge, the culture, the graces, the refinement, which confer national distinction and individual happiness, was to be ruthlessly blotted out from the face of the earth.