CHAPTER LIII.
Advance of King Ferdinand against Malaga.
The army of Ferdinand advanced in
lengthened line, glittering along the foot
of the mountains which border the Mediterranean;
while a fleet of vessels,
freighted with heavy artillery and warlike
munitions, kept pace with it, at a
short distance from the land, covering
the sea with a thousand gleaming sails.
When Hamet el Zegri saw this force
approaching, he set fire to the houses of
the suburbs which adjoined the walls,
and sent forth three battalions to encounter
the advance guard of the enemy.
The Christian army drew near to the
city at that end where the castle and
rocky height of Gibralfaro defend the
seaboard. Immediately opposite to the
castle, and about two bow-shots' distance,
and between it and the high chain of
mountains, was a steep and rocky hill,
commanding a pass through which the
Christians must march to penetrate to
the vega, and surround the city. Hamet
el Zegri ordered the three battalions to
take their stations, one on this hill, another
in the pass near the castle, and a
third on the side of the mountain near
the sea.
A body of Spanish foot-soldiers of the
advance guard, sturdy mountaineers of
Gallicia, sprang forward to climb the side
of the height next the sea; at the same
time a number of cavaliers and hidalgos
of the royal household attacked the
Moors who guarded the pass below. The
Moors defended their posts with obstinate
valour. The Gallicians were repeatedly
overpowered and driven down the hill,
but as often rallied; and, being reinforced
by the hildalgos and cavaliers, returned
to the assault. This obstinate struggle
lasted for six hours. The strife was of
a deadly kind, not merely with crossbows
and arquebuses, but hand to hand,
with swords and daggers: no quarter
was claimed or given on either side:
they fought not to make captives, but to
slay. It was but the advance guard of
the Christian army that was engaged: so
narrow was the pass along the coast,
that the army could proceed only in file.
Horse and foot, and beasts of burden,
were crowded one upon another, impeding
each other, and blocking up the
narrow and rugged defile. The soldiers
heard the uproar of the battle, the sound
of trumpets, and the war-cries of the
Moors, but tried in vain to press forward
to the assistance of their companions.
At length a body of foot-soldiers of the
Holy Brotherhood climbed, with great
difficulty, the steep side of the mountain
which overhung the pass, and advanced
with seven banners displayed. The
Moors, seeing this force above them,
abandoned the pass in despair.
The battle was still raging on the
height. The Gallicians, though supported
by Castilian troops, under Don Hurtado
de Mendoza, and Garcilasso de la Vega,
were severely pressed, and roughly
handled by the Moors. At length a
brave standard-bearer, Luys Mazedo by
name, threw himself into the midst of the
enemy, and planted his banner on the
summit. The Gallicians and the Castilians,
stimulated by this noble self-devotion,
followed him, fighting desperately,
and the Moors were at length driven to
their castle of Gibralfaro.[77]
This important height being taken, the
pass lay open to the army: but by this
time, evening was advancing, and the
host was too weary and exhausted to
seek proper situations for the encampment.
The king, attended by several
grandees and cavaliers, went the rounds
at night, stationing outposts towards the
city, and guards and patrols to give the
alarm on the least movement of the
enemy. All night the Christians lay
upon their arms, lest there should be
some attempt to sally forth and attack
them.
When the morning dawned, the king
gazed with admiration at this city, which
he hoped soon to add to his dominions.
It was surrounded on one side by vineyards,
gardens, and orchards, which
covered the hills with verdure; on the
other side its walls were bathed by
the smooth and tranquil sea. Its vast
and lofty towers and prodigious castles
showed the labours of magnanimous men,
in former times, to protect their favourite
abode. Hanging gardens, groves of
oranges, citrons, and pomegranates, with
tall cedars and stately palms, were mingled
with the stern battlements and
towers, bespeaking the opulence and
luxury that reigned within.
In the mean time the Christian army
poured through the pass, and throwing
out its columns, and extending its lines,
took possession of every vantage-ground
around the city. King Ferdinand surveyed
the ground, and appointed the
stations of the different commanders.
The important mount, which had cost
so violent a struggle, and which faced the
powerful fortress of Gibralfaro, was given
in charge to Roderigo Ponce de Leon,
the Marquis of Cadiz, who in all sieges
claimed the post of danger. He had
several noble cavaliers, with their retainers,
in his encampment, which consisted
of fifteen hundred horse, and fourteen
thousand foot; and extended from
the summit of the mount to the margin
of the sea, completely blocking up the
approach to the city on that side. From
this post a line of encampments extended
quite round the city to the seaboard, fortified
by bulwarks and deep ditches; while
a fleet of armed ships and galleys
stretched before the harbour, so that the
place was completely invested by sea
and land. The various parts of the
valley now resounded with the din of
preparation, and were filled with artificers
preparing warlike engines and
munitions; armourers and smiths, with
glowing forges and deafening hammers;
carpenters and engineers constructing
machines wherewith to assail the walls;
stonecutters shaping stone balls for the
ordnance; and burners of charcoal preparing
fuel for the furnaces and forges.
When the encampment was formed,
the heavy ordnance was landed from the
ships, and mounted in various parts of
the camp. Five huge lombards were
placed on the mount commanded by the
Marquis of Cadiz, so as to bear upon the
castle of Gibralfaro.
The Moors made strenuous efforts to
impede these preparations. A heavy
fire was kept up from their ordnance
upon the men employed in digging
trenches or constructing batteries, so that
the latter had to work principally in the
night. The royal tents had been stationed
conspicuously and within reach
of the Moorish batteries, but were so
warmly assailed that they had to be removed
behind a hill.
When the works were completed, the
Christian batteries opened in return, and
kept up a tremendous cannonade, while
the fleet, approaching the land, assailed
the city vigorously on the opposite side.
It was a glorious and delectable sight,
observes Fray Antonio Agapida, to behold
this infidel city thus surrounded by
sea and land by a mighty Christian force.
Every mound in its circuit was, as it
were, a little city of tents, bearing the
standard of some renowned catholic
warrior. Besides the warlike ships and
galleys which lay before the place, the
sea was covered with innumerable sails,
passing and repassing, appearing and
disappearing, being engaged in bringing
supplies for the subsistence of the army.
It would have seemed a vast spectacle
contrived to recreate the eye, had not the
volleying bursts of flame and smoke
from the ships, which appeared to lie
asleep on the quiet sea, and the thunder
of ordnance from camp and city, from
tower and battlement, told the deadly
warfare that was waging.
At night the scene was far more direful
than in the day. The cheerful light
of the sun was gone; there was nothing
but the flashes of artillery, or the baleful
gleams of combustibles thrown into the
city, and the conflagration of the houses.
The fire kept up from the Christian batteries
was incessant; there were seven
great lombards, in particular, called the
Seven Sisters of Ximenes, which did tremendous
execution. The Moorish ordnance
replied in thunder from the walls;
Gibralfaro was wrapped in volumes of
smoke, rolling about its base; and Hamet
el Zegri and his Gomeres looked out with
triumph upon the tempest of war they
had awakened. "Truly they were so
many demons incarnate," says the pious
Fray Antonio Agapida, "who were permitted
by Heaven to enter into and possess
this infidel city for its perdition."
