10. CHAPTER X.
Siege of Malaga continued—obstinacy of Hamet el
Zegri.
Great was the enthusiasm of the army, when they
beheld their patriot queen advancing in state, to
share the toils and dangers of her people. Isabella
entered the camp, attended by the dignitaries and
the whole retinue of her court, to manifest that this
was no temporary visit. On one side of her was her
daughter, the Infanta; on the other, the grand cardinal
of Spain, Hernando de Talavera, the prior of
Prado, confessor to the queen, followed, with a great
train of prelates, courtiers, cavaliers, and ladies of
distinction. The cavalcade moved in calm and
stately order through the camp, softening the iron
aspect of war by this array of courtly grace and
female beauty.
Isabella had commanded, that on her coming to
the camp, the horrors of war should be suspended,
and fresh offers of peace made to the enemy. On
her arrival, therefore, there had been a general cessation
of firing throughout the camp. A messenger
was, at the same time, dispatched to the besieged,
informing them of her being in the camp, and of the
determination of the sovereigns to make it their settled
residence until the city should be taken. The
same terms were offered, in case of immediate surrender,
that had been granted to Velez Malaga; but
the inhabitants were threatened with captivity and
the sword, should they persist in their defence.
Hamet el Zegri received this message with haughty
contempt, and dismissed the messenger without
deigning a reply. “The christian sovereigns,” said
he, “have made this offer in consequence of their
despair. The silence of their batteries proves the
truth of what has been told us, that their powder is
exhausted. They have no longer the means of demolishing
our walls; and if they remain much longer,
the autumnal rains will interrupt their convoys,
and fill their camp with famine and disease. The
first storm will disperse their fleet, which has no
neighboring port of shelter: Africa will then be
open to us, to procure reinforcements and supplies.”
The words of Hamet el Zegri were hailed as
oracular, by his adherents. Many of the peaceful
part of the community, however, ventured to remonstrate,
and to implore him to accept the proffered
mercy. The stern Hamet silenced them with a
terrific threat: he declared, that whoever should talk
of capitulating, or should hold any communication
with the christians, should be put to death. The
fierce Gomeres, like true men of the sword, acted
upon the menace of their chieftain as upon a written
law, and having detected several of the inhabitants
in secret correspondence with the enemy, they set
upon and slew them, and then confiscated their effects.
This struck such terror into the citizens, that
those who had been loudest in their murmurs became
suddenly mute, and were remarked as evincing the
greatest bustle and alacrity in the defence of the city.
When the messenger returned to the camp, and
reported the contemptuous reception of the royal
message, king Ferdinand was exceedingly indignant.
Finding the cessation of firing, on the queen's arrival,
had encouraged a belief among the enemy that
there was a scarcity of powder in the camp, he ordered
a general discharge from all the batteries.
The sudden burst of war from every quarter soon
convinced the Moors of their error, and completed
the confusion of the citizens, who knew not which
most to dread, their assailants or their defenders,
the christians or the Gomeres.
That evening the sovereigns visited the encampment
of the marques of Cadiz, which commanded
a view over a great part of the city and the camp.
The tent of the marques was of great magnitude,
furnished with hangings of rich brocade and French
cloth of the rarest texture. It was in the oriental
style; and, as it crowned the height, with the surrounding
tents of other cavaliers, all sumptuously
furnished, presented a gay and silken contrast to the
opposite towers of Gibralfaro. Here a splendid collation
was served up to the sovereigns; and the
courtly revel that prevailed in this chivalrous encampment,
the glitter of pageantry, and the bursts
of festive music, made more striking the gloom and
silence that reigned over the Moorish castle.
The marques of Cadiz, while it was yet light,
conducted his royal visiters to every point that com
manded a view of the warlike scene below. He
caused the heavy lombards also to be discharged, that
the queen and ladies of the court might witness the
effect of those tremendous engines. The fair dames
were filled with awe and admiration, as the mountain
shook beneath their feet with the thunder of the
artillery, and they beheld great fragments of the
Moorish walls tumbling down the rocks and precipices.
While the good marques was displaying these
things to his royal guests, he lifted up his eyes, and
to his astonishment beheld his own banner hanging
out from the nearest tower of Gibralfaro. The blood
mantled in his cheek, for it was a banner which he
had lost at the time of the memorable massacre of
the heights of Malaga.[1]
To make this taunt more
evident, several of the Gomeres displayed themselves
upon the battlements, arrayed in the helmets and
cuirasses of some of the cavaliers slain or captured
on that occasion. The marques of Cadiz restrained
his indignation, and held his peace; but several of
his cavaliers vowed loudly to revenge this cruel bravado,
on the ferocious garrison of Gibralfaro.
