19. CHAPTER XIX.
How the city of Malaga capitulated.
The people of Malaga, being no longer overawed
by Hamet el Zegri and his Gomeres, turned to Ali
Dordux, the magnanimous merchant, and put the fate
of the city into his hands. He had already gained
the alcaydes of the castle of the Genoese, and of the
citadel, into his party, and in the late confusion had
gained the sway over those important fortresses. He
now associated himself with the alfaqui Abrahen
Alhariz and four of the principal inhabitants, and,
forming a provisional junta, they sent heralds to the
christian sovereigns, offering to surrender the city on
certain terms, protecting the persons and property
of the inhabitants, permitting them to reside as Mudexares
or tributary vassals, either in Malaga or
elsewhere.
When the heralds arrived at the camp, and made
known their mission to king Ferdinand, his anger
was kindled. “Return to your fellow-citizens,” said
he, “and tell them that the day of grace is gone by.
They have persisted in a fruitless defence, until they
are driven by necessity to capitulate; they must surrender
unconditionally, and abide the fate of the vanquished.
Those who merit death shall suffer death:
those who merit captivity shall be made captives.”
This stern reply spread consternation among the
people of Malaga; but Ali Dordux comforted them,
and undertook to go in person, and pray for favorable
terms. When the people beheld this great and
wealthy merchant, who was so eminent in their city,
departing with his associates on this mission, they
plucked up heart; for they said, “Surely the christian
king will not turn a deaf ear to such a man as
Ali Dordux!”
Ferdinand, however, would not even admit the
ambassadors to his presence. “Send them to the
devil!” said he, in a great passion, to the commander
of Leon; “I'll not see them. Let them get back to
their city. They shall all surrender to my mercy,
as vanquished enemies.”[1]
To give emphasis to this reply, he ordered a general
discharge from all the artillery and batteries;
and there was a great shout throughout the camp,
and all the lombards and catapults, and other engines
of war, thundered furiously upon the city, doing
great damage.
Ali Dordux and his companions returned to the
city with downcast countenances, and could scarce
make the reply of the christian sovereign be heard,
for the roaring of the artillery, the tumbling of the
walls, and the cries of women and children. The
citizens were greatly astonished and dismayed, when
they found the little respect paid to their most eminent
man; but the warriors who were in the city
exclaimed, “What has this merchant to do with questions
between men of battle? Let us not address the
enemy as abject suppliants who have no power to injure,
but as valiant men, who have weapons in their
hands.”
So they dispatched another message to the christian
sovereigns, offering to yield up the city and all
their effects, on condition of being secured in their
personal liberty. Should this be denied, they declared
they would hang from the battlements fifteen
hundred christian captives, male and female; that
they would put all their old men, their women and
children into the citadel, set fire to the city, and sally
forth sword in hand, to fight until the last gasp. “In
this way,” said they, “the Spanish sovereigns shall
gain a bloody victory, and the fall of Malaga be renowned
while the world endures.”
To this fierce and swelling message, Ferdinand
replied, that if a single christian captive were injured,
not a Moor in Malaga but should be put to the
edge of the sword.
A great conflict of counsels now arose in Malaga.
The warriors were for following up their menace by
some desperate act of vengeance or of self-devotion.
Those who had families looked with anguish upon
their wives and daughters, and thought it better to
die than live to see them captives. By degrees, however,
the transports of passion and despair subsided,
the love of life resumed its sway, and they turned
once more to Ali Dordux, as the man most prudent
in council and able in negotiation. By his advice,
fourteen of the principal inhabitants were chosen
from the fourteen districts of the city, and sent to the
camp, bearing a long letter, couched in terms of the
most humble supplication.
Various debates now took place in the christian
camp. Many of the cavaliers were exasperated
against Malaga for its long resistance, which had
caused the death of many of their relations and
favorite companions. It had long been a strong-hold
also for Moorish depredators, and the mart where
most of the warriors captured in the Axarquia had
been exposed in triumph and sold to slavery. They
represented, moreover, that there were many Moorish
cities yet to be besieged; and that an example
ought to be made of Malaga, to prevent all obstinate
resistance thereafter. They advised, therefore, that
all the inhabitants should be put to the sword![2]
The humane heart of Isabella revolted at such
sanguinary counsels: she insisted that their triumph
should not be disgraced by cruelty. Ferdinand, however,
was inflexible in refusing to grant any preliminary
terms, insisting on an unconditional surrender.
The people of Malaga now abandoned themselves
to paroxysms of despair; on the one side they saw
famine and death, on the other slavery and chains.
The mere men of the sword, who had no families to
protect, were loud for signalizing their fall by some
illustrious action. “Let us sacrifice our christian
captives, and then destroy ourselves,” cried some.
“Let us put all the women and children to death,
set fire to the city, fall on the christian camp, and die
sword in hand,” cried others.
Ali Dordux gradually made his voice be heard,
amidst the general clamor. He addressed himself to
the principal inhabitants, and to those who had children.
“Let those who live by the sword, die by the
sword,” cried he; “but let us not follow their desperate
counsels. Who knows what sparks of pity
may be awakened in the bosoms of the christian
sovereigns, when they behold our unoffending wives
and daughters, and our helpless little ones! The
christian queen, they say, is full of mercy.”
At these words, the hearts of the unhappy people
of Malaga yearned over their families, and they empowered
Ali Dordux to deliver up their city to the
mercy of the Castilian sovereigns.
The merchant now went to and fro, and had several
communications with Ferdinand and Isabella,
and interested several principal cavaliers in his
cause; and he sent rich presents to the king and
queen, of oriental merchandise, and silks and stuffs of
gold, and jewels and precious stones, and spices and
perfumes, and many other sumptuous things, which
he had accumulated in his great tradings with the
east; and he gradually found favor in the eyes of the
sovereigns.[3]
Finding that there was nothing to be
obtained for the city, he now, like a prudent man
and able merchant, began to negotiate for himself
and his immediate friends. He represented that
from the first they had been desirous of yielding up
the city, but had been prevented by warlike and
high-handed men, who had threatened their lives:
he entreated, therefore, that mercy might be extended
to them, and that they might not be confounded
with the guilty.
The sovereigns had accepted the presents of Ali
Dordux—how could they then turn a deaf ear to his
petition? So they granted a pardon to him, and to
forty families which he named; and it was agreed
that they should be protected in their liberties and
property, and permitted to reside in Malaga as Mudexares
or Moslem vassals, and to follow their customary
pursuits.[4]
All this being arranged, Ali Dordux
delivered up twenty of the principal inhabitants,
to remain as hostages, until the whole city should be
placed in the possession of the christians.
Don Gutiere de Cardenas, senior commander of
Leon, now entered the city, armed cap-a-pie, on
horseback, and took possession in the name of the
Castilian sovereigns. He was followed by his retainers,
and by the captains and cavaliers of the
army; and in a little while, the standards of the
cross and of the blessed Santiago, and of the Catholic
sovereigns, were elevated on the principal tower of
the Alcazaba. When these standards were beheld
from the camp, the queen and the princess and the
ladies of the court, and all the royal retinue, knelt
down and gave thanks and praises to the holy virgin
and to Santiago, for this great triumph of the faith;
and the bishops and other clergy who were present,
and the choristers of the royal chapel, chanted “
Te
Deum Laudamus,” and “
Gloria in Excelsis.”
