University of Virginia Library

30. CHAPTER XXX.
Siege of Ronda.

The bold Hamet el Zegri, the alcayde of Ronda,
had returned sullenly to his strong-hold, 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 valor of his people. A fierce
and warlike populace was at his command; his signal-fires
could 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 warhawks
of the mountains.

Ronda was considered as impregnable. It was
situated 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 the 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 formed 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 favorite mistress.

As the 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, endeavored 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, from whence they defended
themselves by showering down darts and stones upon
their pursuers.

Hamet now lit alarm-fires about the heights: his
standard was joined by the neighboring 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 meanwhile, the distress of Ronda was
hourly increasing. The marques 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 hence the city obtained its chief supply
of water; and these steps were deeply worn by the
weary feet of christian captives, employed in this
painful labor. The marques of Cadiz discovered
this subterranean passage, and directed his pioneers
to countermine in the side 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 marques 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 fly 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 succor being at an end, the
inhabitants of Ronda were compelled to capitulate.
Ferdinand was easily prevailed upon to grant them
favorable 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 practice of their religion.

No sooner did the place surrender, than detachments
were sent to attack the Moors who hovered
about the neighboring mountains. Hamet el Zegri,
however, did not remain to make 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 marques of Cadiz, on
entering Ronda, was to deliver his unfortunate companions
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 marques 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 Casanbonela, 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.”