University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.
Expedition of the Marques of Cadiz against Alhama.

Great was the indignation of king Ferdinand,
when he heard of the storming of Zahara—more
especially as it had anticipated his intention of giving
the first blow in this eventful war. He valued
himself upon his deep and prudent policy; and there
is nothing which politic monarchs can less forgive,
than thus being forestalled by an adversary. He
immediately issued orders to all the adelantados and
alcaydes of the frontiers, to maintain the utmost
vigilance at their several posts, and to prepare to
carry fire and sword into the territories of the
Moors.

Among the many valiant cavaliers who rallied
round the throne of Ferdinand and Isabella, one of
the most eminent in rank and renowned in arms was
Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon, marques of Cadiz.
As he was the distinguished champion of this holy
war, and commanded in most of its enterprises and
battles, it is meet that some particular account
should be given of him. He was born in 1443, of
the valiant lineage of the Ponces, and from his earliest
youth had rendered himself illustrious in the
field. He was of the middle stature, with a muscular
and powerful frame, capable of great exertion
and fatigue. His hair and beard were red and curled,
his countenance was open and magnanimous, of a

ruddy complexion, and slightly marked with the
small-pox. He was temperate, chaste, valiant, vigilant;
a just and generous master to his vassals;
frank and noble in his deportment towards his
equals; loving and faithful to his friends; fierce and
terrible, yet magnanimous, to his enemies. He was
considered the mirror of chivalry of his times, and
compared by contemporary historians to the immortal
Cid.

The marques of Cadiz had vast possessions in the
most fertile parts of Andalusia, including many towns
and castles, and could lead forth an army into the
field from his own vassals and dependants. On receiving
the orders of the king, he burned to signalize
himself by some sudden incursion into the kingdom
of Granada, that should give a brilliant commencement
to the war, and should console the
sovereigns for the insult they had received in the
capture of Zahara. As his estates lay near to the
Moorish frontiers, and were subject to sudden inroads,
he had always in his pay numbers of adalides,
or scouts and guides, many of them converted Moors.
These he sent out in all directions, to watch the
movements of the enemy, and to procure all kinds
of information important to the security of the
frontier. One of these spies came to him one day
in his town of Marchena, and informed him that the
Moorish town of Alhama was slightly garrisoned and
negligently guarded, and might be taken by surprise.
This was a large, wealthy, and populous place,
within a few leagues of Granada. It was situated

on a rocky height, nearly surrounded by a river, and
defended by a fortress to which there was no access
but by a steep and cragged ascent. The strength of
its situation, and its being embosomed in the centre
of the kingdom, had produced the careless security
which now invited attack.

To ascertain fully the state of the fortress, the
marques dispatched secretly a veteran soldier, who
was highly in his confidence. His name was Ortega
de Prado, a man of great activity, shrewdness, and
valor, and captain of escaladors, or those employed
to scale the walls of fortresses in time of attack.
Ortega approached Alhama one moonless night,
and paced along its walls with noiseless step, laying
his ear occasionally to the ground or to the wall.
Every time, he distinguished the measured tread of
a sentinel, and now and then the challenge of the
night-watch going its rounds. Finding the town thus
guarded, he clambered to the castle:—there all was
silent. As he ranged its lofty battlements, between
him and the sky he saw no sentinel on duty. He
noticed certain places where the wall might be ascended
by scaling-ladders; and, having marked the
hour of relieving guard, and made all necessary
observations, he retired without being discovered.

Ortega returned to Marchena, and assured the
marques of Cadiz of the practicability of scaling the
castle of Alhama, and taking it by surprise. The
marques had a secret conference with Don Pedro
Henriquez Adelantado, of Andalusia; Don Diego de
Merlo, commander of Seville; and Sancho de Avila,

alcayde of Carmona, who all agreed to aid him with
their forces. On an appointed day, the several commanders
assembled at Marchena with their troops
and retainers. None but the leaders knew the object
or destination of the enterprise; but it was enough
to rouse the Andalusian spirit, to know that a foray
was intended into the country of their old enemies,
the Moors. Secrecy and celerity were necessary
for success. They set out promptly, with three thousand
genetes, or light cavalry, and four thousand infantry.
They chose a route but little travelled, by
the way of Antiquera, passing with great labor
through rugged and solitary defiles of the Sierra or
chain of mountains of Alzerifa, and left all their
baggage on the banks of the river Yeguas, to be
brought after them. Their march was principally in
the night; all day they remained quiet; no noise
was suffered in their camp, and no fires were made,
lest the smoke should betray them. On the third day
they resumed their march as the evening darkened,
and forcing themselves forward at as quick a pace as
the rugged and dangerous mountain roads would permit,
they descended towards midnight into a small
deep valley, only half a league from Alhama. Here
they made a halt, fatigued by this forced march, during
a long dark evening towards the end of February.

The marques of Cadiz now explained to the
troops, the object of the expedition. He told them
it was for the glory of the most holy faith, and to
avenge the wrongs of their countrymen of Zahara;
and that the rich town of Alhama, full of wealthy

spoil, was the place to be attacked. The troops
were roused to new ardor by these words, and desired
to be led forthwith to the assault. They arrived
close to Alhama about two hours before day-break.
Here the army remained in ambush, while
three hundred men were dispatched to scale the
walls and get possession of the castle. They were
picked men, many of them alcades and officers, men
who preferred death to dishonor. This gallant band
was guided by the escalador Ortega de Prado, at the
head of thirty men with scaling-ladders. They clambered
the ascent to the castle in silence, and arrived
under the dark shadow of its towers without being
discovered. Not a light was to be seen, not a sound
to be heard; the whole place was wrapped in profound
repose.

Fixing their ladders, they ascended cautiously and
with noiseless steps. Ortega was the first that
mounted upon the battlements, followed by one
Martin Galindo, a youthful esquire, full of spirit and
eager for distinction. Moving stealthily along the
parapet to the portal of the citadel, they came upon
the sentinel by surprise. Ortega seized him by the
throat, brandished a dagger before his eyes, and ordered
him to point the way to the guard-room. The
infidel obeyed, and was instantly dispatched, to prevent
his giving an alarm. The guard-room was a
scene rather of massacre than combat. Some of the
soldiery were killed while sleeping, others were cut
down almost without resistance, bewildered by so
unexpected an assault: all were dispatched, for the

scaling party was too small to make prisoners or to
spare. The alarm spread throughout the castle, but
by this time the three hundred picked men had
mounted the battlements. The garrison, startled
from sleep, found the enemy already masters of the
towers. Some of the Moors were cut down at once,
others fought desperately from room to room, and
the whole castle resounded with the clash of arms,
the cries of the combatants, and the groans of the
wounded. The army in ambush, finding by the uproar
that the castle was surprised, now rushed from
their concealment, and approached the walls with
loud shouts, and sound of kettle-drums and trumpets,
to increase the confusion and dismay of the garrison.
A violent conflict took place in the court of the
castle, where several of the scaling party sought to
throw open the gates to admit their countrymen.
Here fell two valiant alcaydes, Nicholas de Roja
and Sancho de Avila; but they fell honorably, upon
a heap of slain. At length Ortega de Prado succeeded
in throwing open a postern, through which
the marques of Cadiz, the adelantado of Andalusia,
and Don Diego de Merlo, entered with a host of followers,
and the citadel remained in full possession of
the christians.

As the Spanish cavaliers were ranging from room
to room, the marques of Cadiz, entering an apartment
of superior richness to the rest, beheld, by the
light of a silver lamp, a beautiful Moorish female,
the wife of the alcayde of the castle, whose husband
was absent, attending a wedding-feast at Velez Malaga.

She would have fled at the sight of a Christian
warrior in her apartment, but, entangled in the covering
of the bed, she fell at the feet of the marques,
imploring mercy. The christian cavalier, who had
a soul full of honor and courtesy towards the sex,
raised her from the floor, and endeavored to allay
her fears; but they were increased at the sight of
her female attendants pursued into the room by the
Spanish soldiery. The marques reproached his soldiers
with their unmanly conduct, and reminded
them that they made war upon men, not on defenceless
women. Having soothed the terrors of the
females by the promise of honorable protection, he
appointed a trusty guard to watch over the security
of their apartment.

The castle was now taken; but the town below
it was in arms. It was broad day, and the people,
recovered from their panic, were enabled to see and
estimate the force of the enemy. The inhabitants
were chiefly merchants and trades-people; but the
Moors all possessed a knowledge of the use of weapons,
and were of brave and warlike spirit. They
confided in the strength of their walls, and the certainty
of speedy relief from Granada, which was
but about eight leagues distant. Manning the battlements
and towers, they discharged showers of stones
and arrows, whenever the part of the christian army,
without the walls, attempted to approach. They
barricadoed the entrances of their streets, also, which
opened towards the castle; stationing men expert at
the cross-bow and arquebuse. These kept up a constant

fire upon the gate of the castle, so that no one
could sally forth without being instantly shot down.
Two valiant cavaliers, who attempted to lead forth a
party in defiance of this fatal tempest, were shot
dead at the very portal.

The christians now found themselves in a situation
of great peril. Reinforcements must soon arrive
to the enemy from Granada; unless, therefore, they
gained possession of the town in the course of the
day, they were likely to be surrounded and beleagured,
without provisions, in the castle. Some observed
that, even if they took the town, they should not be
able to maintain possession of it. They proposed,
therefore, to make booty of every thing valuable, to
sack the castle, set it on fire, and make good their
retreat to Seville.

The marques of Cadiz was of different counsel.
“God has given the citadel into christian hands,”
said he; “he will no doubt strengthen them to maintain
it. We have gained the place with difficulty
and bloodshed; it would be a stain upon our honor
to abandon it through fear of imaginary dangers.
The adelantado and Don Diego de Merlo joined in
his opinion; but without their earnest and united
remonstrances, the place would have been abandoned;
so exhausted were the troops by forced marches
and hard fighting, and so apprehensive of the approach
of the Moors of Granada.

The strength and spirits of the party within the
castle, were in some degree restored by the provisions
which they found. The Christian army beneath

the town, being also refreshed by a morning's
repast, advanced vigorously to the attack of the
walls. They planted their scaling-ladders, and,
swarming up, sword in hand, fought fiercely with the
Moorish soldiery upon the ramparts.

In the mean time, the marques of Cadiz, seeing
that the gate of the castle, which opened toward the
city, was completely commanded by the artillery of
the enemy, ordered a large breach to be made in the
wall, through which he might lead his troops to the
attack; animating them, in this perilous moment, by
assuring them that the place should be given up to
plunder, and its inhabitants made captives.

The breach being made, the marques put himself
at the head of his troops, and entered sword in
hand. A simultaneous attack was made by the christians
in every part—by the ramparts, by the gate, by
the roofs and walls which connected the castle with
the town. The Moors fought valiantly in their
streets, from their windows, and from the tops of
their houses. They were not equal to the christians
in bodily strength, for they were for the most part
peaceful men, of industrious callings, and enervated
by the frequent use of the warm bath; but they
were superior in number, and unconquerable in
spirit; old and young, strong and weak, fought with
the same desperation. The Moors fought for property,
for liberty, for life. They fought at their thresholds
and their hearths, with the shrieks of their
wives and children ringing in their ears, and they
fought in the hope that each moment would bring

aid from Granada. They regarded neither their own
wounds nor the deaths of their companions; but
continued fighting until they fell, and seemed as if,
when they could no longer contend, they would
block up the thresholds of their beloved homes with
their mangled bodies. The christians fought for
glory, for revenge, for the holy faith, and for the
spoil of these wealthy infidels. Success would place
a rich town at their mercy; failure would deliver
them into the hands of the tyrant of Granada.

The contest raged from morning until night, when
the Moors began to yield. Retreating to a large
mosque near the walls, they kept up so galling a fire
from it with lances, cross-bows, and arquebuses,
that for some time the christians dared not approach.
Covering themselves, at length, with bucklers and
mantelets[1] to protect them from the deadly shower,
they made their way to the mosque, and set fire to
the doors. When the smoke and flames rolled in
upon them, the Moors gave all up as lost. Many
rushed forth desperately upon the enemy, but were
immediately slain; the rest surrendered themselves
captives.

The struggle was now at an end; the town remained
at the mercy of the christians; and the inhabitants,
both male and female, became the slaves
of those who made them prisoners. Some few escaped
by a mine or subterranean way, which led to
the river, and concealed themselves, their wives and

children, in caves and secret places; but in three or
four days, were compelled to surrender themselves
through hunger.

The town was given up to plunder, and the booty
was immense. There were found prodigious quantities
of gold and silver, and jewels, and rich silks,
and costly stuffs of all kinds; together with horses
and beeves, and abundance of grain and oil, and
honey, and all other productions of this fruitful kingdom;
for in Alhama were collected the royal rents
and tributes of the surrounding country; it was the
richest town in the Moorish territory, and, from its
great strength and its peculiar situation, was called
the key to Granada.

Great waste and devastation were committed by
the Spanish soldiery; for, thinking it would be impossible
to keep possession of the place, they began
to destroy whatever they could not take away. Immense
jars of oil were broken, costly furniture shattered
to pieces, and magazines of grain broken open,
and their contents scattered to the winds. Many
christian captives, who had been taken at Zahara,
were found buried in a Moorish dungeon, and were
triumphantly restored to light and liberty; and a
renegado Spaniard, who had often served as guide to
the Moors in their incursions into the christian territories,
was hanged on the highest part of the battlements,
for the edification of the army.