University of Virginia Library

30. CHAPTER XXX.
Continuation of the Siege of Baza.

The old Moorish king El Zagal mounted a tower,
and looked out eagerly to enjoy the sight of the christian
marauders brought captive into the gates of
Guadix; but his spirits fell, when he beheld his own
troops stealing back in the dusk of the evening, in
broken and dejected parties.

The fortune of war bore hard against the old monarch;
his mind was harassed by the disastrous tidings
brought each day from Baza, of the sufferings of the
inhabitants, and the numbers of the garrison slain in
the frequent skirmishes. He dared not go in person
to the relief of the place, for his presence was necessary
in Guadix, to keep a check upon his nephew in
Granada. He made efforts to send reinforcements
and supplies; but they were intercepted, and either
captured or driven back. Still his situation was in
some respects preferable to that of his nephew Boabdil.
The old monarch was battling like a warrior,
on the last step of his throne; El Chico remained a
kind of pensioned vassal, in the luxurious abode of
the Alhambra. The chivalrous part of the inhabitants
of Granada could not but compare the generous
stand made by the warriors of Baza for their country
and their faith, with their own timeserving submission
to the yoke of an unbeliever. Every account they
received of the woes of Baza, wrung their hearts

with agony; every account of the exploits of its devoted
defenders, brought blushes to their cheeks.
Many stole forth secretly with their weapons, and
hastened to join the besieged; and the partisans of
El Zagal wrought upon the patriotism and passions
of the remainder, until another of those conspiracies
was formed, that were continually menacing the unsteady
throne of Granada. It was concerted by the
conspirators, to assail the Alhambra on a sudden; to
slay Boabdil; to assemble all the troops, and march
to Guadix; where, being reinforced by the garrison
of that place, and led on by the old warrior monarch,
they might fall with overwhelming power upon the
christian army before Baza.

Fortunately for Boabdil, he discovered the conspiracy
in time, and had the heads of the leaders
struck off, and placed upon the walls of the Alhambra,—an
act of severity unusual with this mild and
wavering monarch, which struck terror into the disaffected,
and produced a kind of mute tranquillity
throughout the city.

King Ferdinand had full information of all these
movements and measures for the relief of Baza, and
took timely precautions to prevent them. Bodies
of horsemen held watch in the mountain passes, to
prevent all supplies, and to intercept any generous
volunteers from Granada; and watch-towers were
erected, or scouts were placed on every commanding
height, to give the alarm at the least sign of a
hostile turban.

The prince Cidi Yahye and his brave companions

in arms, were thus gradually walled up, as it were,
from the rest of the world. A line of towers, the
battlements of which bristled with troops, girdled
their city; and behind the intervening bulwarks and
palisadoes, passed and repassed continual squadrons
of troops. Week after week, and month after month,
passed away, but Ferdinand waited in vain for the
garrison to be either terrified or starved into surrender.
Every day they sallied forth with the spirit
and alacrity of troops high fed, and flushed with confidence.
“The christian monarch,” said the veteran
Mohammed ben Hassan, “builds his hopes upon our
growing faint and desponding—we must manifest
unusual cheerfulness and vigor. What would be
rashness in other service, becomes prudence with
us.” The prince Cidi Yahye agreed with him in
opinion, and sallied forth with his troops upon all
kinds of harebrained exploits. They laid ambushes,
concerted surprises, and made the most desperate
assaults. The great extent of the christian works
rendered them weak in many parts: against these
the Moors directed their attacks, suddenly breaking
into them, making a hasty ravage, and bearing off
their booty in triumph to the city. Sometimes they
would sally forth by the passes and clefts of the
mountain in the rear of the city, which it was difficult
to guard, and, hurrying down into the plain,
would sweep off all cattle and sheep that were grazing
near the suburbs, and all stragglers from the camp.

These partisan sallies brought on many sharp and
bloody encounters, in some of which Don Alonzo de

Aguilar and the alcayde de los Donzeles distinguished
themselves greatly. During one of these hot skirmishes,
which happened on the skirts of the mountain,
about twilight, a valiant cavalier, named Martin
Galindo, beheld a powerful Moor dealing deadly
blows about him, and making great havoc among the
christians. Galindo pressed forward, and challenged
him to single combat. The Moor, who was of the
valiant tribe of the Abencerrages, was not slow in
answering the call. Couching their lances, they
rushed furiously upon each other. At the first shock
the Moor was wounded in the face, and borne out
of his saddle. Before Galindo could check his steed,
and turn from his career, the Moor sprang upon his
feet, recovered his lance, and, rushing upon him,
wounded him in the head and the arm. Though
Galindo was on horseback and the Moor on foot,
yet such was the prowess and address of the latter,
that the christian knight being disabled in the arm,
was in the utmost peril, when his comrades hastened
to his assistance. At their approach, the valiant
pagan retreated slowly up the rocks, keeping them
at bay, until he found himself among his companions.

Several of the young Spanish cavaliers, stung by
the triumph of this Moslem knight, would have challenged
others of the Moors to single combat; but
king Ferdinand prohibited all vaunting encounters
of the kind. He forbade his troops, also, to provoke
skirmishes, well knowing that the Moors were more
dextrous than most people in this irregular mode of
fighting, and were better acquainted with the ground.