CHAPTER XXX.
The bold Hamet el Zegri, the alcayde
of Ronda, had returned sullenly to his
stronghold after the surrender of Coin.
He had fleshed his sword in battle with
the Christians; but his thirst for vengeance
was still unsatisfied. Hamet
gloried in the strength of his fortress
and the valour of his people. A fierce
and warlike populace was at his command;
his signal-fires would summon all
the warriors of the Serrania; his Gomeres
almost subsisted on the spoils of
Andalusia; and in the rock on which
his fortress was built were hopeless dungeons,
filled with Christian captives, who
had been carried off by these war-hawks
of the mountains.
Ronda was considered as impregnable.
It was situate in the heart of wild and
rugged mountains, and perched upon an
isolated rock, crested by a strong citadel,
with triple walls and towers. A deep
ravine, or rather a perpendicular chasm
of rocks, of frightful depth, surrounded
three parts of the city; through this
flowed the Rio Verde, or Green River.
There were two suburbs to the city, fortified
by walls and towers, and almost
inaccessible, from the natural asperity of
the rocks. Around this rugged city were
deep rich valleys, sheltered by the mountains,
refreshed by constant streams,
abounding with grain and the most delicious
fruits, and yielding verdant meadows;
in which was reared a renowned
breed of horses, the best in the whole
kingdom for a foray.
Hamet el Zegri had scarcely returned
to Ronda, when he received intelligence,
that the Christian army was marching
to the siege of Malaga, and orders from
El Zagal to send troops to his assistance.
Hamet sent a part of his garrison for
that purpose. In the mean time, he
meditated an expedition to which he was
stimulated by pride and revenge. All
Andalusia was now drained of its troops:
there was an opportunity, therefore, for
an inroad, by which he might wipe out
the disgrace of his defeat at the battle of
Lopera. Apprehending no danger to his
mountain city, now that the storm of
war had passed down into the vega of
Malaga, he left but a remnant of his
garrison to man its walls; and, putting
himself at the head of his band of Gomeres,
swept down suddenly into the
plains of Andalusia. He careered, almost
without resistance, over those vast
campiñas, or pasture-lands, which form
a part of the domains of the Duke of
Medina Sidonia. In vain the bells were
rung, and the alarm-fires kindled; the
band of Hamet had passed by before any
force could be assembled; and was only
to be traced, like a hurricane, by the devastation
it had made.
Hamet regained in safety the Serrania
de Ronda, exulting in his successful inroad.
The mountain glens were filled
with long droves of cattle, and flocks of
sheep, from the campiñas of Medina
Sidonia. There were mules, too, laden
with the plunder of the villages; and
every warrior had some costly spoil of
jewels for his favourite mistress.
As El Zegri drew near to Ronda, he
was roused from his dream of triumph
by the sound of heavy ordnance, bellowing
through the mountain defiles. His
heart misgave him: he put spurs to his
horse, and galloped in advance of his
lagging cavalgada. As he proceeded,
the noise of the ordnance increased,
echoing from cliff to cliff. Spurring his
horse up a craggy height, which commanded
an extensive view, he beheld,
to his consternation, the country about
Ronda white with the tents of a besieging
army. The royal standard, displayed
before a proud encampment,
showed that Ferdinand himself was present;
while the incessant blaze and
thunder of artillery, and the volumes of
overhanging smoke, told the work of
destruction that was going on.
The royal army had succeeded in
coming upon Ronda by surprise, during
the absence of its alcayde, and most of
its garrison; but its inhabitants were
warlike, and defended themselves bravely,
trusting that Hamet and his Gomeres
would soon return to their assistance.
The fancied strength of their bulwarks
had been of little avail against the batteries
of the besiegers. In the space of
four days, three towers, and great masses
of the walls which defended the suburbs,
were battered down, and the suburbs
taken and plundered. Lombards and
other heavy ordnance were now levelled
at the walls of the city, and stones and
missiles of all kinds hurled into the
streets. The very rock on which the
city stood shook with the thunder of
the artillery; and the Christian captives,
deep within its dungeons, hailed the sound
as the promise of deliverance.
When Hamet el Zegri beheld his city
thus surrounded and assailed, he called
upon his men to follow him and make
a desperate attempt to cut their way
through to its relief. They proceeded
stealthily through the mountains, until
they came to the nearest heights above
the Christian camp. When night fell,
and part of the army was sunk in sleep,
they descended the rocks, and rushing
suddenly upon the weakest part of the
camp, endeavoured to break their way
through, and gain the city. The camp
was too strong to be forced; they were
driven back to the crags of the mountains,
whence they defended themselves
by showering down darts and stones
upon their pursuers.
Hamet now lighted alarm-fires about
the heights; his standard was joined by
the neighbouring mountaineers, and by
troops from Malaga. Thus reinforced,
he made repeated assaults upon the
Christians, cutting off all stragglers from
the camp. All his attempts, however,
to force his way into the city were fruitless.
Many of his bravest men were
slain, and he was obliged to retreat into
the fastnesses of the mountains.
In the mean while, the distress of
Ronda was hourly increasing. The Marquis
of Cadiz, having possession of the
suburbs, was enabled to approach to the
very foot of the perpendicular precipice,
rising from the river, on the summit of
which the city is built. At the foot of
this rock is a living fountain of limpid
water, gushing into a great natural basin.
A secret mine led down from within the
city to this fountain, by several hundred
steps, cut in the solid rock. From this
the city obtained its chief supply of
water; and the steps were deeply worn
by the weary feet of Christian captives
employed in the painful labour. The
Marquis of Cadiz discovered this subterranean
passage, and directed his pioneers
to countermine it through the solid
body of the rock. They pierced to the
shaft; and, stopping it up, deprived the
city of the benefit of this precious fountain.
While the brave Marquis of Cadiz was
thus pressing the siege with zeal, and
glowing with the generous thoughts of
soon delivering his companions in arms
from the Moorish dungeons, far other
were the feelings of the alcayde, Hamet
el Zegri. He smote his breast, and
gnashed his teeth, in impotent fury, as
he beheld, from the mountain cliffs, the
destruction of the city. Every thunder
of the Christian ordnance seemed to
batter against his heart. He saw tower
after tower tumbling by day, and at
night the city blazed like a volcano.
"They fired not merely stones from
their ordnance," says a chronicler of the
times, "but likewise great balls of iron,
cast in moulds, which demolished every
thing they struck." They threw also
balls of tow, steeped in pitch and oil and
gunpowder, which, when once on fire,
were not to be extinguished, and which
set the houses in flames.
Great was the horror of the inhabitants.
They knew not where to flee for
refuge: their houses were in a blaze, or
shattered by the ordnance. The streets
were perilous, from the falling ruins
and the bounding balls, which dashed to
pieces every thing they encountered. At
night the city looked like a fiery furnace:
the cries and wailings of the women
were heard between the thunders of the
ordnance, and reached even to the Moors
on the opposite mountains, who answered
them by yells of fury and despair.
All hope of external succour being at
an end, the inhabitants of Ronda were
compelled to capitulate. Ferdinand was
easily prevailed upon to grant them favourable
terms. The place was capable
of longer resistance; and he feared for
the safety of his camp, as the forces
were daily augmenting on the mountains,
and making frequent assaults. The inhabitants
were permitted to depart with
their effects, either to Barbary or elsewhere;
and those who chose to reside
in Spain had lands assigned them, and
were indulged in the exercise of their
religion.
No sooner did the place surrender,
than detachments were sent to attack
the Moors, who hovered about the neighbouring
mountains. Hamet el Zegri,
however, did not remain, to try a fruitless
battle. He gave up the game as
lost, and retreated with his Gomeres,
filled with grief and rage, but trusting
to fortune to give him future vengeance.
The first care of the good Marquis of
Cadiz, on entering Ronda, was to deliver
his unfortunate companious in arms from
the dungeons of the fortress. What a
difference in their looks, from the time,
when, flushed with health and hope, and
arrayed in military pomp, they had
sallied forth upon the mountain foray!
Many of them were almost naked, with
irons at their ankles, and beards reaching
to their waists. Their meeting with
the marquis was joyful, yet it had the
look of grief; for their joy was mingled
with many bitter recollections. There
was an immense number of other captives,
among whom were several young
men of noble families, who, with filial
piety, had surrendered themselves prisoners
in place of their fathers.
The captives were all provided with
mules, and sent to the queen at Cordova.
The humane heart of Isabella melted at
the sight of the piteous cavalcade. They
were all supplied by her with food and
raiment, and money to pay their expenses
to their homes. Their chains were hung
as pious trophies against the exterior of
the church of St. Juan de los Reyes in
Toledo, where the Christian traveller
may regale his eyes with the sight of
them at this very day.
Among the Moorish captives was a
young infidel maiden of great beauty,
who desired to become a Christian, and
to remain in Spain. She had been inspired
with the light of the true faith,
through the ministry of a young man,
who had been a captive in Ronda. He
was anxious to complete his good work
by marrying her. The queen consented
to their pious wishes, having first taken
care that the young maiden should be
properly purified by the holy sacrament
of baptism.
"Thus this pestilent nest of warfare
and infidelity, the city of Ronda," says
the worthy Fray Antonio Agapida, "was
converted to the true faith by the thunder
of our artillery. An example which was
soon followed by Casanbonelas, Alarbella,
and other towns in these parts;
insomuch that, in the course of this expedition,
no less than seventy-two places
were rescued from the vile sect of Mahomet,
and placed under the benignant domination
of the cross."
