The visit of Charles V. to Granada in 1526 was made the occasion for a strenuous appeal for the reform of the Moriscoes. Petitions and remonstrances without number, reinforced with all the arts of sacerdotal eloquence, were presented to the Emperor, urging that radical measures be taken to correct an evil which was seriously affecting the credit and the discipline of the Church. A commission of thirteen members, most of them high ecclesiastical dignitaries, and presided over by Don Alonso Manrique, Grand Inquisitor of Spain, was therefore appointed, and began an investigation. There was no difficulty in anticipating the decision of such a tribunal. That its decrees might be properly executed, the Holy Office was brought from Jaen and formally established in one of the palaces of the city. Ten sessions sufficed to determine a question in which were involved matters of the greatest consequence to the welfare of the kingdom, the maintenance of national honor, and the justice and integrity of the crown. Every accusation against the Moriscoes was received and considered, but they were not permitted to be heard in their own defence. The determination of the commission was published in a royal edict, which prohibited the Moriscoes the use of their family names, their dress, their language; which compelled the exposure of the faces of their women to the insulting gaze of the loungers in the streets; which required the abandonment of the peculiar ceremonies employed in the slaughter of animals for food; which sanctioned by domiciliary visits invasion of the privacy of their homes; and forbade them to ever lose sight of the Inquisitorial palace, whose officials were directed to henceforth exercise careful supervision over their conduct, and to punish with their customary rigor all infractions of religious discipline.

The terror experienced by the victims of this atrocious decree, which not only violated the conditions upon which Spanish supremacy depended, but deliberately sacrificed every consideration of justice for which national honor had solemnly pledged its faith, can hardly be imagined. But the Moriscoes, whose experience with their spiritual advisers had taught them the efficacy of certain methods in averting impending evil, had recourse to an expedient which, on a smaller scale, had repeatedly proved successful. It was no secret that the royal treasury was empty; and it was suspected that the depressed condition of the national finances was largely responsible for the proselyting zeal so unexpectedly exerted against a peaceable and inoffensive class. In consideration of a “gift” of eight thousand ducats, the execution of the obnoxious decree was suspended, during the pleasure of the Emperor, as soon as it had been signed; but this indulgence, it was expressly declared, did not affect the jurisdiction of the Holy Office. The parasites who surrounded the throne demanded and received an equal amount for an influence they claimed to possess, but which was probably never exerted. Thus a monarch, who posed as the secular representative of Roman Catholicism, consented to sacrifice the religious interests of a large body of his subjects and to compromise the imperial dignity for a sum equivalent at the present day to nine hundred thousand dollars in gold. No event in Spanish history discloses more clearly than this the true motives which instigated the prosecution of heresy, or the extraordinary wealth of those who were the objects of official cupidity and public malevolence.

The Moors of Granada, who had heretofore been almost exempt from the exactions of inquisitorial tyranny, now experienced for the first time the dire powers of the Holy Office. One of the first acts of Isabella, after the Conquest, was the foundation of innumerable monasteries. The favorite sites of these establishments were the suburban palaces of the Moslem princes, it being considered a peculiarly meritorious achievement to erect on the ruins of a splendid villa, devoted to the pleasures of a votary of Islam, an abode for holy men, who, by a pious fiction, were supposed to employ their abundant leisure in praying for the salvation of heretics. In building these structures the baths were first demolished, on account of the scandal the sight of apartments devoted to ablution and luxury caused every good Christian, as well as for the reason that their use was always considered entirely superfluous in a monastic institution. As a result of the partiality exhibited by successive princes towards the monachal orders, the city swarmed with friars of every description. Their prejudices made them the bitter enemies of the Moriscoes, while their numbers and audacity rendered them both influential and formidable. The fact that the inferior officials of the Inquisition were principally recruited from their ranks augmented the terror which their insolence and rapacity inspired, and no familiar who wore the Dominican or Franciscan garb was ever known to incline to the side of mercy. To such hands was now committed the fate of the Moors of Granada. The compact with the Emperor, by which they had been confirmed for the time in the enjoyment of their customs, was broken. Their property was confiscated. They were subjected to the diabolical tortures adopted by the direst of tribunals for the production of testimony and the confession of guilt. In the famous Plaza de la Bab-al-Rambla, the scene of many knightly encounters and of the destruction of Moslem learning by Ximenes, the condemned underwent the final penance, the sacrifice of the auto-da-fé. The annoying restraints imposed upon them by priestly intolerance were the least oppressive of the many evils the Moriscoes were condemned to endure. In the frequent controversies which arose concerning the interpretation of imperial edicts and canonical decrees, the authority of the latter always prevailed. Every official, civil, religious, or military, asserted the privilege of magistracy, and claimed the right to compound an offence or to impose a penalty. In the art of extorting money, as in the direction of all matters pertaining to civil and ecclesiastical jurisdiction, the servants of the Church displayed an extraordinary aptitude. The regular taxes imposed upon the Moriscoes, a grievous burden in themselves, were augmented a hundred-fold by impositions unauthorized by law, and which had no other foundation than the demands of official rapacity. The sums obtained from these enforced contributions were enormous. An idea may be formed of the probable amount they yielded when it is remembered that the legitimate tax paid annually by the silk markets of Almeria, Malaga, and Granada added more than a million dollars to the royal treasury. The irregular means employed were far more profitable in their results than those countenanced by legal authority; and there were few demands, however iniquitous, which a Morisco dared refuse when confronted with the menacing power of the Inquisition.

In Valencia also the Holy Office, supported by Papal sanction and imperial duplicity, found a rich and most fruitful field for its nefarious operations. It was in this kingdom, so remarkable for its natural advantages and the industry of its people, that the Spanish proverb, “Quien tiene Moro, tiene oro,” had its origin. The relation of vassalage which the Moors of that kingdom in general sustained to the nobility was far from sufficient to protect them against the effects of secular and ecclesiastical prejudice. The unquestioned orthodoxy of the lord, his generosity to the Church, the antiquity of his family, the prestige of his name, his services to the crown, were swept aside when the question of disciplining his retainers was involved. The slightest suspicion attaching to a Moslem was enough to invite the descent of a horde of familiars and alguazils, who never failed to discover evidences of irregularity sufficient to render their examination profitable. The visitations of these functionaries were doubly offensive by reason of the unfeeling and insolent manner in which they were conducted. They left no corner of a dwelling unsearched; they destroyed property, insulted women, and without color of right or pretence of concealment appropriated such jewels and trinkets as struck their fancy. Spies of the Holy Office swarmed in the Moorish quarter, ever alert for signs of heresy. For these outrages there was no possibility of redress, and the trembling victim gladly purchased, by the confiscation of his effects, temporary security from greater misfortunes, which, if his worldly possessions were sufficient to warrant further interference, he was certain sooner or later to undergo. The intolerable nature of these persecutions impelled thousands of Moriscoes to seek by flight the only available relief from oppression. The Holy Fathers of the Inquisition were horrified by the retaliatory measures adopted by the friends of those who, for the welfare of their souls, were subjected to the salutary restraints of ecclesiastical discipline. Every time that the Moors condemned by that tribunal expiated their heresies in an auto-da-fé, information was promptly sent to Barbary, and an equal number of Christian captives perished by fire.

The African corsairs, under the command of the relentless Barbarossa, at that time held the empire of the Mediterranean, and by their aid multitudes of Moriscoes succeeded in escaping to Morocco. In vain the nobles protested against a policy which depreciated the value of their estates, depopulated their villages, and daily deprived them of laborers whose services could not be dispensed with and whose loss could not be replaced; both royal power and popular sentiment sanctioned the course of the Church, and the material prosperity of a single province was not worthy of consideration when weighed with the perishing souls of thousands of suspected heretics. Pecuniary arguments were then employed, and after several years of negotiation the operations of the Holy Office were suspended upon the payment of a yearly donative of twenty-five hundred ducats. Once more free from the perils of Inquisitorial visitation and punishment, the Moriscoes at once relapsed into their former religious indifference; the clergy viewed with unconcern the unmistakable evidences of apostasy among their parishioners; the nobles welcomed with undisguised satisfaction the relief of their vassals, the increase of their revenues, and the indications of returning prosperity; while the inquisitors, whose treasury had been filled to overflowing with the gold wrung by fines and confiscations from the wealthiest subjects of the kingdom, sought in other quarters new material for the stake and the dungeon, to be condemned to present torture and eternal infamy in the name of an All-Merciful God.

The abdication of Charles V. brought a grateful respite to the harassed and suffering Moors. The mighty interests of an empire which extended over two worlds engrossed the attention of Philip II., and he had, at first, no time to devote to the persecution of a handful of alleged heretics lost in a corner of his vast dominions. The Roman Pontiff, who, perhaps influenced by motives of humanity, but certainly not absolutely free from political bias or resentment for the outrage inflicted by the Emperor upon the Holy See, had always discountenanced his oppression of the Moriscoes, now heartily co-operated with Philip in alleviating the misery of their condition. A brief issued from the Vatican in 1556 empowered confessors to absolve from the offence of heresy without penance, and deprived the Inquisition of the greater part of its jurisdiction and authority. The nature of the young King had not yet been corrupted by absolute power; nor were his actions now controlled by that morose and pitiless spirit subsequently developed by remorse, disease, and bigotry, which, added to the hereditary taint of insanity which afflicted his family, rendered him, during the greater portion of his life, one of the most unfeeling monsters that has ever disgraced a throne.

The beneficial effects of leniency upon the Moriscoes, as contrasted with the employment of violent measures, were soon disclosed. They conformed, with seeming alacrity, to the often vexatious regulations imposed upon their conduct. They wore the Spanish costume; they adopted, in all public transactions at least, the use of the Castilian language. Colleges were founded for their instruction by devout and enterprising prelates. Their children, male and female, were educated in the schools, and assumed the ecclesiastical habit of the various monastic orders within whose jurisdiction they were enrolled. From Morisco seminaries missionaries went forth to instruct and reconcile their doubting countrymen. In imitation of their patrons, they founded and supported religious brotherhoods. Their professions were apparently sincere; they began to perform their duties with scrupulous regularity; and it seemed as if at last the hitherto delusive hope of Moslem conversion was about to be realized. But the spirit of ferocious intolerance, ever predominant in the Spanish character, and which in the sixteenth century amounted to a frenzy, regarded with anything but complacency the indulgent consideration extended towards the unhappy objects of hereditary aversion. With this sentiment generally prevalent, fresh pretexts for encroachment were easily invented. In 1560 the assistance of the government was invoked by the Christians of Granada to restrain the purchase of slaves by the Moriscoes, who, it was stated, were in the habit of instructing their servants secretly in the doctrines of Islam and thereby multiplying the number of its adherents, to the scandal of the Church and the prejudice of the royal authority. No attempt was made to ascertain the truth or falsity of this accusation, and the Moriscoes were deprived, by royal decree, of the right of possessing slaves, a measure seriously affecting the rural and domestic economy of the entire population of Granada, which was dependent upon the cultivation of the soil by a multitude of negroes held by the Moorish farmers in servitude.

In addition to this virtual confiscation of property for no valid cause and without indemnity, the Moors were compelled to produce the arms whose possession had already been licensed, in order to have them stamped by the government, and thus contribute still further to the gratification of official greed. The penalty incurred for the possession of a weapon without permission was six years in the galleys; that for counterfeiting the royal stamp was death. The enforcement of these regulations, the first of which threatened to paralyze agricultural labor, the principal occupation of the Moriscoes and the main dependence of the revenues of the crown, exasperated beyond endurance those affected by their enactment. The loss of their slaves impoverished many. Some surrendered their arms and procured others clandestinely. Others enlisted in the organized bands of outlaws who, under the name of monfis, roamed through the sierras and levied at will contributions upon the wealthy Spaniards of the Vega. Many of these brigands, through the connivance of their sympathizers, entered the capital by night in force, bore away the wives and children of their enemies, and left in the squares and highways the mutilated corpse of every Christian they encountered. The numbers of the monfis increased with alarming rapidity. Their incursions began to resemble the operations of an organized army; preparations for an insurrection were secretly instituted, and the assistance of the rulers of Fez, Algiers, and Constantinople was earnestly solicited in behalf of those who represented themselves as persecuted Mohammedans, abandoned without any other resource to the tyranny of Christian avarice and power.

Untaught by experience and regardless of consequences, the officials of the various civil and ecclesiastical tribunals pursued their extortionate policy without pity or restraint. The competition existing between them, and the adverse claims involving contested jurisdiction and disputed plunder which constantly arose, often caused serious conflicts of authority, from which the representatives of the Church and the Inquisition generally emerged victorious. These quarrels between these two classes of oppressors embittered them both against their common victims, and dissension increased instead of alleviating the sufferings of the latter. To make their situation even more desperate, the decree of Charles V., promulgated in 1526, was now put in force by the King. The Moriscoes, unable longer to sustain the grievous exactions which they well understood were but preliminaries to the expulsion of their race, now rapidly matured their plans of rebellion. In the accomplishment of this they displayed extraordinary tact and shrewdness. A considerable estate had been granted to them in the neighborhood of Granada for the erection of a hospital. Under pretence of soliciting funds for its completion, trusty emissaries of revolt were despatched to every Moorish community of the kingdom. The collectors employed in this dangerous service visited in their journey one hundred and ten thousand families. The incorruptible faith of the Moors and their loyalty to their race were unprecedented; for among the multitudes intrusted with a secret for which a traitor would have received a fortune not a single individual abused the confidence of his countrymen. The entire sum obtained by this means is not known; it must, however, have been amply sufficient, for the contributions of those who were fit for military service alone amounted to forty-five thousand pieces of gold.

Messengers were next despatched to Africa to purchase arms. Secret and well-organized communication was perfected. The election of a leader now became imperative. In the old Moorish capital there lived a young man of amiable disposition and excellent mental capacity, but of prodigal and licentious habits, named Don Fernando de Valor, in whose veins coursed the blood of the famous Ommeyade dynasty of Cordova. A prince by birth, and enjoying the greatest popularity as a citizen, his prominence in the community had secured for him a place among the councillors who, under the constitution granted by the crown, assisted in the nominal government of the city. Although his dissolute manners and frivolous associations exempted him from the suspicion of the authorities, and his public observance of religious ceremonies stamped him as an orthodox believer, he had not forgotten the glorious traditions of his royal line, and in spite of his apparent sloth was active, brave, aspiring, and unscrupulous. In the house of a wealthy resident of the Albaycin, and within a stone’s throw of the inquisitorial palace, the chiefs of the conspiracy conferred upon this youth the perilous honor of leading a hopeless insurrection. With all the ceremonial of the ancient khalifate, he was invested with the royal insignia; his new subjects rendered him obeisance; he named the dignitaries of his court, and the assemblage invoked the blessing of heaven upon the Servant of Allah and the Representative of the Prophet, Muley Mohammed-Ibn-Ommeyah, King of Granada and Andalusia! The performance of this farcical ceremony neither inspired confidence nor awakened enthusiasm among the Moriscoes of the city. The character of the personage selected to re-establish the glories of Moslem dominion was too well known in Granada to arouse any other sentiments than those of ridicule and contempt. Intolerable as their condition was, the wealthy Moors hesitated to hazard their lives and property in support of a cause in whose success they had little faith; and the populace, while ever prone to riot, waited patiently for the signal from their superiors. For this reason, although several uprisings were projected, and even the hours of their accomplishment appointed, popular indecision and apathy rendered all designs abortive.

In the Alpujarras, where everything was already upon a hostile footing, the case was different, and the wild mountaineers hailed with enthusiasm the advent of a sovereign and the welcome prospect of war and depredation. The tempest of rebellion burst forth at once in every settlement of the sierras. The excesses committed by the insurgents are incredible in their atrocity and worthy of a race of savages. Their animosity was especially directed against the priests, whom they considered as the instigators and the instruments of their misfortunes. Some had their mouths stuffed with gunpowder and their heads blown to atoms. Others were compelled to sit before the altar while their former parishioners tore out the hairs of their heads and eyebrows one by one and then slashed them to death with knives and razors. Others, still, were subjected to ingenious tortures and barbarous mutilation; compelled to swallow their own eyes, which had been torn from the sockets; to be gradually dismembered; to have their tongues and hearts cut out and thrown to dogs. Hundreds of monks were seethed in boiling oil. Nuns were subjected to shocking indignities and then tortured to death. The glaring hypocrisy in which the Moriscoes had been living was disclosed by their conduct as soon as they believed themselves emancipated from the restraints under which they had chafed so long. They exulted in every form of sacrilege. Dressed in sacerdotal habiliments, they travestied the solemn ceremonies of the mass. They defiled and trampled upon the Host. The churches were filled with laughing, jeering crowds that polluted every portion of the sanctuary. Sacred images, donated by pious monarchs and blessed by famous prelates, were broken to pieces and burnt. Ecclesiastical hatred had, as an indispensable sign of regeneration, forced all Moslem converts to eat pork, a kind of food doubly offensive from inherited prejudice and Koranic prohibition. In retaliation for this annoying requirement, the insurgents, with mock solemnity, and invested with all the paraphernalia of Catholic worship, sacrificed hogs upon the Christian altars. Every form of violence, every outrage which newly-found freedom exasperated by the memory of long-continued injury could devise, was perpetrated by the enraged Moriscoes. So unbridled was their fury that even the common usages of war were constantly violated; prisoners taken in battle were put to death without mercy, and it was publicly declared that not a Christian should be left alive within the insurgent territory. This resolution, promulgated without his knowledge, was discountenanced by Ibn-Ommeyah, and he deposed the commanders who had by their arbitrary conduct and impolitic cruelty insulted the honor of his crown, but not until irreparable wrong had been committed.

The news of the insurrection, the exaggeration of its extent, and the horrors which followed in its train produced a general panic in Granada. All Christians who could do so took refuge in the Alhambra. The Moriscoes, in vain protesting their innocence, barricaded themselves in their houses, and such as imprudently ventured into the streets perished at the hands of the infuriated mob. The contest of jurisdiction which had so long existed between the civil and military authorities, each of whom claimed the supremacy, and neither of whom was willing to sacrifice his pretensions, even in the face of a cunning and dangerous enemy, added to the perplexities of the situation. Thoroughly acquainted with the discord of their masters, the Moriscoes, already elated by the exploits of their countrymen, of which they had early and accurate intelligence, began to manifest a suspicious activity. The prospect of war called to arms the turbulent and dissolute spirits of the kingdom. The feudal laws, which were still in force in the Peninsula, prevented, through the disputes of the nobles for precedence, that submission to authority requisite for successful operations. With these independent bands there was no question of patriotism; the national standard was merely a rallying point for pillage, and that commander was the most popular whose neglect of discipline afforded the greatest opportunities for unbounded license. These troops were commanded by the Marquis de Mondejar, Governor of Granada, and the Marquis de los Velez, both of whom were indebted rather to their names than to their qualifications for the prominence they enjoyed, for the one was without discretion and the other without experience.

In the campaign that ensued every consideration of military virtue, of pity, of humanity, was cast aside. The Christians fought with an energy dictated by fanaticism and rapacity, the Moors with all the reckless courage of despair. The Castilian officers, so far from restraining the excesses of the soldiery, encouraged them in order to increase their ferocity and render reconciliation impossible till all the available booty could be secured. The Moors of Granada paid dearly for the apathy with which they had received the overtures of their more daring countrymen. The lawless rabble of the Spanish camp, which recognized no restraint but that of superior force, was quartered upon the wealthy citizens of the Albaycin. It is notorious that even the plain-spoken old chroniclers of the time blushed to record the outrages inflicted by these savage volunteers, callous to every appeal of decency or honor. An extraordinary tax of six thousand ducats was imposed upon the Albaycin for the purpose of provisioning the army; and the Moorish farmers of the Vega were compelled under heavy penalties to furnish every day twenty thousand pounds of bread at a price arbitrarily fixed by the authorities. Thus the unhappy Moriscoes of the capital, too timorous to second an attempt to regain their independence, were forced to contribute to the discomfiture of their friends, to undergo unspeakable insults and frightful suffering, and in the end to sacrifice their property and in many instances their lives as the result of their distrust of a cause which lack of intelligent co-operation rendered hopeless from the very beginning. The activity of the Spanish generals, and the superiority in numbers of their troops, soon gained for them the advantage. The campaign resolved itself into a succession of skirmishes and marauding expeditions, whose monotony was occasionally relieved by promiscuous butchery. In consequence of a disturbance provoked by the insolent conduct of a Spanish soldier, thirteen hundred prisoners, of whom a thousand were women, were massacred at the Castle of Jubiles. The plans of the royal commanders were hampered by the insubordination of the soldiery; their insatiable greed placed the army in desperate situations, whence by good fortune alone it could be extricated, and the frequency of desertion seriously threatened the efficiency of a force unrestrained either by self-respect or military law. Driven from point to point, the army of Ibn-Ommeyah was finally beaten and dispersed. The Alpujarras were occupied by lines of fortified posts, which prevented the assembling of any considerable body of insurgents; the mountaineers of the adjacent sierras were gradually reduced to submission, and the insurrection was at last only represented by the fugitive prince and a handful of followers, whose fidelity was sorely tried by the tempting reward offered for the head of their sovereign.

The Moriscoes, terrified by the misfortunes which they had undergone, offered, for the sake of present security, to submit to any conditions that might be imposed,—to deportation, to exile, to confiscation, to the maintenance of the troops that might be detailed as their guards against future hostility. Different and irreconcilable opinions prevailed among the officials of the crown as to the policy to be adopted; one party advocated amnesty, another extermination. In the mean time, while their superiors were wrangling, the soldiers pursued without interruption the agreeable diversion of rapine. Although hostilities had ceased, small bands of military brigands roamed everywhere without control, robbing houses, destroying property, ravishing women. Inoffensive peasants, who had never borne arms, were seized, carried to Granada, and publicly sold as slaves in the markets of the city by these outlaws, with the knowledge and connivance of the authorities. The latter quarrelled over the division of the spoil and the questionable distinction acquired by conflagration and massacre. No faith was kept with the vanquished. Safe-conducts signed by the highest officials were not respected. No Morisco was exempt from molestation and violence; no house was secure from the intrusion of prowling and bloodthirsty ruffians. When a body of Christian troops passed through a Moorish community everything portable departed with it, the rest was burned. There was deliberate method in this wholesale destruction of property. The army desired nothing so little as peace. War had been profitable even beyond expectation. The booty already secured was immense, but the greater portion had as yet escaped the avarice of the conqueror. The general and the common soldier alike cast longing glances upon the wealth of the Albaycin; upon the productive estates of the Vega, still cultivated by Moorish industry; upon the untold wealth in gold and jewels known to be hoarded by the residents of Guadix, Baza, and Almeria. Leaving all else out of consideration, the Moriscoes themselves, who numbered more than half a million, if condemned to slavery, would realize a prodigious sum. These were the sinister motives which urged an indefinite prosecution of the war, and it was not long before the desired object was attained. The Moriscoes, driven to despair by the duplicity of their enemies whose violence they could not resist, again fled to the mountains and sought the standard of Ibn-Ommeyah. The Spanish mob of Granada, excited by rumors of conspiracy, at once massacred the defenceless Moorish occupants of the prisons to the number of several hundred. Their personal effects were appropriated by the governor; their lands were confiscated for the benefit of the crown; and their widows and orphans were reduced to beggary. A judgment of the court subsequently obtained confirmed this arbitrary act, stating that its decision was based upon the fact that, “while some of the prisoners were actually guilty, all were guilty in intention.” The affair was regarded as a suggestive warning, and in the future the insurgents did not receive or expect assistance from their friends in Granada.

Once more the flames of war were kindled in the sierras, and the scenes of indiscriminate butchery were resumed. The power of Ibn-Ommeyah, strengthened by thousands of desperate men fleeing from persecution, by the monfis, by the corsairs, and by numbers of savage adventurers from the northern coast of Africa, now became more formidable than ever. That power he exercised with ferocious severity. The discipline of his troops was improved. Marauding parties of Christians from the principal cities were surprised and cut to pieces. Prominent officials who had ventured to advocate surrender were promptly executed for treason. The discouraging and hitherto hopeless task of enlisting the sympathy and aid of the Mohammedan princes of Fez and Algiers was resumed, but with no better prospect of success than before.

Philip, fully informed of the incapacity and mutual distrust of those hitherto charged with the government of Granada, now determined to commit the subjection of the rebels to a general whose rank and talents would command the obedience and check the insubordination of the ill-disciplined bands composing the bulk of the Spanish army. Don John of Austria, his half-brother, the natural son of Charles V., a youth whose opportunities had as yet given little indication of the military genius he possessed, but in whom discerning eyes had already perceived the existence of those brilliant qualities subsequently displayed with such lustre at Lepanto, was assigned to the command.

The greatest enthusiasm was aroused by this appointment. Nobles and peasants alike, ambitious of serving under a prince of the blood, flocked by hundreds to the royal standard. The new commander, although inexperienced, perfected his arrangements with all the caution and skill of a veteran. The army was thoroughly reorganized. Disorder was checked. Outlaws and beggars were expelled from the camp. As far as the annoying feudal regulations would permit, discipline was enforced. Licensed brigandage, which had done so much to destroy the efficiency of the troops, was punished with impartial rigor. Under these improved conditions the army, which had hitherto resembled a disorderly mob, now assumed the appearance of a compact and formidable force. Meanwhile, the insurgents had not been idle. Instructed by experience and adversity, Ibn-Ommeyah introduced many necessary reforms into his civil and military administration; purchased arms in Africa; invited the presence of corsairs; procured supplies; and, dividing his territory into districts whose arrangement facilitated mutual support and defence, awaited with resolution and confidence the approach of the enemy. The first operations of the campaign were favorable to the Moriscoes, whose successes, while neither material nor decisive, nevertheless resulted in substantial additions to their ranks. Although able to bring several thousand men into the field, their want of artillery, ignorance of engineering science, and traditional dependence on partisan warfare made their victories worthless. The latter were obtained in skirmishes where but a few hundreds were engaged, the nature of the ground and the opportunities for surprise giving unperceived assailants the advantage.

Irritated by these reverses, a decisive step, long contemplated, and frequently from politic motives postponed, was now resolved upon by the government. The rumor of impending revolt was diligently circulated throughout Granada. As no evidence was subsequently disclosed to confirm this report, it was probably entirely fictitious, but it accomplished the object for which it was promulgated. A panic seized the excitable populace, and a universal demand arose for the expulsion of the Moriscoes. The authorities were quick to profit by the commotion and the fears which their own perfidy aroused; and, at a concerted signal, twenty thousand arquebusiers, with lighted fuses, occupied the approaches to the Albaycin. The Moriscoes, when ordered to assemble in their churches, anticipating a massacre, abandoned themselves to despair. It required all the influence of the municipal authorities, and the royal word of Don John of Austria himself that their lives would be spared, to reassure the terror-stricken prisoners. Crowded together in the aisles, they passed an agonizing and sleepless night. The next morning the males between the ages of ten and sixty years, with their hands bound behind them, were conducted outside the walls, where a decree of perpetual banishment was pronounced against them and their kindred. A few days of grace were accorded to these unfortunates to dispose of, or rather to sacrifice, their personal property; and then, divided into several companies, each escorted by a strong guard, they began their journey towards central Andalusia, Estremadura, and Castile, whither, for purposes of security, it had been decided to conduct them.

The exiles were about eleven thousand in number. They included the descendants of the wealthiest and noblest Moorish families of Granada, and, indeed, of the entire Peninsula. Many of them traced their ancestry back to the princely families of the khalifate, eminent alike for intellectual accomplishments and military renown. In their keeping were the ancient traditions of their race; the rare memorials of the Moslem conquest and domination; the remnants of Arabic literature which had escaped the destructive zeal of Ximenes and the exhaustive search of prying alguazils and inquisitors. Their houses still displayed the splendid decorations peculiar to the palmy days of the emirate; marble halls and alabaster fountains; hangings of embossed and gilded leather; stuccoes that in elegance of design and delicacy of execution equalled those of the Alhambra. In the Vega were many estates, cultivated by their dependents, which returned each year a large and profitable income. All of these landed possessions were unceremoniously appropriated by the Spaniards, and the personal effects sold by the exiles yielded scarcely a tithe of their value. Driven by force from their homes, and despoiled on every side, the Moriscoes pursued their sorrowful way. Reared in comfort and affluence and accustomed to luxury, they were ill-fitted for a long and toilsome journey. Few of the multitude that started arrived at their destination. The hardships incident to travel and exposure to the burning heat proved fatal to hundreds. Many expired from grief, from hunger, from disease. Others were wantonly killed by their guards, who plundered, without hesitancy or compunction, both the living and the dead. When this source of profit was exhausted, the strongest men and the most attractive women were sold as slaves. The condition of the few survivors who arrived at Seville was so deplorable that even the compassion of ecclesiastics, whose lives had been passed in the infliction of persecution and torture, was excited. The greater portion of the inhabitants, however, regarded these victims of tyranny with indifference or curiosity. The sufferings of tender youth, of decrepit age, of beauty in distress, awakened no sympathy; and if any feelings were exhibited by the throngs that lined the highways along which, under a scorching sun, the fainting exiles staggered, they were those of bitter enmity and of exultation at the misfortunes of heretics who had forfeited all title to humanity through the inherited blood of a despised and conquered race.

No beneficial consequences resulted from this measure, as cruel as it was unwise. The insurgents continued their depredations. Every straggler was killed; and no foraging party whose force was less than that of a regiment could hope to return. The Moriscoes by degrees became more daring, and it was no longer safe for individuals to venture beyond the limits of the camp. The encounters were all to the advantage of the rebels; and the great city of Almeria, by the merest accident, escaped falling into their hands. The latter, however, were not only unable to cope with the entire power of the Spanish monarchy, but were even unprovided with the means necessary for the retention of their paltry conquests. Even in a situation where unity was more than ever indispensable to self-preservation, the irrepressible tendency of the Arab mind to factional disturbance began to manifest itself. Nine centuries of national disaster had been insufficient to repress the tribal hatred and the thirst for private vengeance which had sapped the vitality and finally torn into fragments the realm of a vast and splendid empire. The Moor was incapable of profiting by experience. The law of reprisal, that accursed legacy of his Bedouin forefathers, had never been lost sight of, even amidst all the culture and all the wisdom of his civilization. It was the most powerful and effective weapon that his enemies possessed, and it was eternally used to his prejudice. To its aid the Reconquest was far more indebted than to the energy of Alfonso VI. or to the craft of Ferdinand the Catholic. It won more battles than all the conquering sovereigns from Pelayus to Isabella. No Castilian prince had ever failed to recognize its importance or to profit by its employment. And now, in the remote Alpujarras, the last resort of Moorish valor and ambition, it was again to be wielded with even more fatal and demoralizing effects than had ever marked its use since the troublous epoch which followed the decline of the Ommeyade supremacy.

The popularity of Ibn-Ommeyah had of late greatly suffered through the strictness of the discipline which he had inaugurated and the oppressive acts of his advisers, for the most part men of obscure lineage and grasping avarice. The soldiers, accustomed to the exercise of the greatest freedom in their conduct and in their treatment of the enemy, viewed with unconcealed disgust the restraints to which they were subjected. In the councillors of their king, the rich Moriscoes, who had forfeited their lives and expended their treasure in sustaining his pretensions, saw a band of robbers, who abused the opportunities of their positions for their own pecuniary benefit. Especially were those whose wealth made them conspicuous the objects of the selfish animadversion of these base-born officials. No person of eminence, whether civilian or military officer, was safe from the denunciation of informers. The experience of Ibn-Ommeyah, and his frequent escapes from premeditated treachery, had made him impulsive, vindictive, and cruel. Constantly exposed to danger, he was only too ready to listen to the voice of suspicion, and in the court of a despot the punishment follows swiftly upon the accusation. Besides the alienation of many of his principal adherents from the above-mentioned causes, Ibn-Ommeyah had recently gained for himself, by an egregious act of folly, the enmity of one of the most powerful tribes in the kingdom.

Among the most distinguished families of Granada was that of the Beni-Alguazil-al-Karimi, in which was vested, by hereditary right, the office of vizier of the district of Ujijar. Inherited rivalry, the pride of conscious merit, and the jealousy of power had made the Beni-Alguazil the enemies of the house of Ibn-Ommeyah. Their hostility, manifested upon more than one occasion, had aroused the apprehensions of the Moorish prince; and the assassination of Miguel de Rojas, the chief of the tribe, was, not without probability, attributed to his instigation. In consequence, the Beni-Alguazil, while unwilling to assist the Christian foe, maintained a suspicious and sullen demeanor, and, with the characteristic vindictiveness of the Arab, awaited patiently the moment of reprisal. With a perfidy natural to his character, and from the effects of which he was ultimately destined to perish, Ibn-Ommeyah had adopted the custom of promoting to favor and apparent confidence those whom he had already marked for destruction. Among those who shared this perilous honor was Diego Alguazil, a member of the rival clan, whose animosity had been soothed by the gifts and the consideration he received at the hands of his sovereign. In his harem was a lovely slave, the perfection of whose charms, imprudently disclosed by her master, aroused the curiosity and inflamed the desires of Ibn-Ommeyah. Considerations of policy or justice were of trifling moment where the ungovernable passions of the Moorish king were concerned; the slave was rudely appropriated without apology or compensation; and this arbitrary invasion of the rights of a subject raised up for Ibn-Ommeyah an implacable enemy. The ambition of the beautiful Zahrâ, who aspired to the position of Sultana, was disappointed by her continuance in an inferior rank, and, her hopes thus blasted, she found in her former master a pliant and serviceable instrument of revenge. The support of other malcontents, dissatisfied with the cruelty and arrogance of their king, was readily secured; the fears of the royal guard of six hundred Turks were excited by an ingenious, but discreditable, stratagem; and Ibn-Ommeyah, torn from the arms of his women and thrown into prison, perished miserably before morning at the hands of the executioner. His death seemed not entirely unjustifiable, for he proclaimed with his last breath his secret and unshaken belief in the Christian religion. The hypocrisy, which, for the sake of luxury and power, could feign attachment to a creed that upon the slightest pretext it was ready to betray, was not unworthily punished by the treachery of a slave. Ibn-Abu, a cousin of Ibn-Ommeyah, succeeded to the empty honors and dangerous responsibilities of a tottering throne. The treasures of the palace and the seraglio were divided among the conspirators. The guards, whose fidelity to the new administration was suspected, were disbanded; the unpopular officials, deprived of the power which they had abused and the wealth which they had accumulated by extortion and perfidy, were despoiled and exiled; and the new King, crowned at Lanjar with all the pomp which the limited resources that a fugitive court and an impoverished treasury could command, assumed, with an appearance of confidence, the direction of a government divided against itself and confronted with the combined and resistless power of the Spanish monarchy.

Ibn-Abu, when invested with the royal dignity, of whose precarious character he was perfectly aware, but whose acceptance he was afraid to refuse, was far past the prime of life. In the course of an eventful and romantic career, he had undergone many exciting and hazardous experiences. From his youth identified with the party hostile to the Christians, his fidelity to the Moslem cause had been severely tested on numerous occasions. Implicated with the monfis, he had submitted to torture and had been sent to the galleys rather than betray his comrades. Again, for refusing to disclose the hiding-place of his sovereign, he was subjected to a shocking and indescribable mutilation. His sufferings had confirmed his loyalty and intensified his hatred; the noble qualities with which he was endowed endeared him to his countrymen; but his indecision, his lack of energy, and his inability to profit by the means at his disposal in the presence of any sudden exigency unfitted him for the position of responsibility to which he had been so unexpectedly promoted. In spite of the disadvantages under which he labored, he, however, soon placed his forces upon a more effective footing, and his position was greatly strengthened by the discord of his enemies.

The reforms inaugurated by Don John of Austria proved impracticable when their full import became known to the soldiers and they began to experience the inconveniences attendant upon military restraint. Feudal customs also interfered with the enforcement of discipline; and the lords, fearful of a retrenchment of their own privileges, indulged their vassals in acts of rapine prejudicial to the well-being of the entire army. The quarrels and recriminations of the Marquis de Mondejar and the Marquis de los Velez, so far from being extinguished by the appointment of a commander-in-chief, became more aggravated and violent than ever. The power of the latter was hampered by contradictory orders from Madrid, and the prosecution of energetic measures was prevented by incessant and acrimonious disputes. As soon as the prospect of booty was diminished, the army was threatened with dissolution. Desertions were so common and their effect was so demoralizing that all reviews were abandoned, in order that the enemy might not become acquainted with the diminished numbers of their antagonists. Scores of officers were cashiered for peculation; but their successors, unintimidated by the penalty, followed, without hesitation, their disgraceful example. In the markets of the city, the government supplies were publicly exposed for sale by the commissaries. The camp was filled with spies. Not only had many Moriscoes enlisted with the object of betraying their comrades, but the Spaniards themselves constantly sold both official secrets and arms to the rebels. Entire garrisons mutinied because of the necessary precautions instituted by their commanders; and it was not unusual for parties organized for robbery to leave their posts in violation of the express orders of the general. Of these marauders few returned, but their fate failed to deter others; the love of plunder prevailed over every other incentive; and the safety of the troops was often jeopardized by the misconduct of unprincipled adventurers, whose insolence and insubordination even the highest authority seemed unable to restrain. These breaches of order and discipline were by no means confined to the ranks; every grade of the military was affected; and no less a personage than the Marquis de los Velez himself assumed the right to act independently of the commander-in-chief, and to disregard all orders from head-quarters unless they suited his convenience or promoted his interest.

The army of Ibn-Abu amounted to twelve thousand men, of whom four thousand were thoroughly drilled arquebusiers. This force, though for the most part well equipped, experienced in war, aided by the advantages of situation, and fighting for liberty on its own ground, was unable to accomplish any important result, even when engaged with a demoralized enemy. The achievements of the Moriscoes, limited to the blockade of a few fortresses and to marauding expeditions that harassed the cultivators of the Vega, are scarcely worthy of notice, still less of detailed narration. In the vicinity of Orgiba and Baza their troops appeared in force, but retired at once at the approach of the Christians. It was only by the practice of treacherous methods that the Moorish tactics ever prevailed. The want of stability and resolution which had proved fatal to the permanence of the Hispano-Arab empire survived in the final operations of the Morisco rebellion. The superior steadiness of the Spanish infantry invariably carried the day, even against overwhelming odds. The Moors were easily disheartened; after a trifling repulse it was impossible to rally them; and, even when protected by fortifications, they could not withstand the dogged pertinacity which was a prominent trait of the Castilian.

With the appearance of Don John of Austria in the field, hostilities were prosecuted with more rigor and with greater cruelty. The unimportant but bloody successes of the Moors had infused into the Spanish soldiery an even more pitiless spirit than before. The Austrian prince, at first disposed to leniency, soon became, through association and prejudice, as unfeeling as the meanest soldier in the ranks. The siege and assault of Galera, which was the turning-point of the war, exemplified, in a striking degree, the dominant principle which actuated the minds of those who directed the campaign. That town, situated upon an isolated rock, was one of the most strongly fortified places in Spain. In addition to its position, its facilities for defence were excellent. Its garrison was composed of three thousand veterans. Its supplies were ample, and the prudence of Ibn-Abu, who fully appreciated its value, had long before filled to overflowing its magazine and its arsenal. Two falconets, one of which had been captured from the Marquis de los Velez, defended the castle, an unusual advantage, for the Moriscoes were generally unprovided even with such insignificant artillery. A concealed gallery cut through the mountain, and extending below the bed of the river at its base, provided the inhabitants with water, whose existence, unknown to the enemy, made its destruction impossible. In addition to the garrison, the walls of Galera sheltered a population of five thousand, including residents and refugees.

Every precaution that skill and experience could suggest had been adopted to strengthen the defences of a place regarded as already impregnable. Barricades were erected at frequent intervals in the streets, and between them the houses were pierced with openings, to facilitate communication and afford means of retreat. The town, built in terraces upon the sloping rock, offered an ascending series of lines of resistance. Those ordinarily considered as non-combatants were animated by a spirit of determination equal, if not superior, to that of the garrison, and their presence promised to be an important aid rather than a drawback in the impending contest.

Twelve thousand men, commanded by Don John of Austria in person, invested Galera on the eighteenth day of January, 1570. The approaches to the town were defended with stubborn resolution. When forced behind the walls, it became evident that the position of the Moriscoes was so strong that ordinary methods of assault must prove useless. Mining was therefore resorted to; and a passage, terminating under the citadel, was cut with infinite trouble through the solid rock. As soon as it was completed, a storming party was detailed for the attack, and the explosion of forty-five barrels of gunpowder announced that the mine had been sprung. Little damage was done to the castle, however; the walls remained intact; and the Spaniards were driven back with heavy loss. Two other mines were opened and exploded, and three assaults were made simultaneously. One explosion effected some injury, but the ruins raised by the other counteracted it; the loss of the insurgents was trifling; and again the Spaniards sustained a bloody and serious repulse.

Another charge, in which the besiegers—infuriated by the fall of their general, who was struck by a bullet which his armor of proof fortunately deflected—succeeded in passing the ramparts, procured for them admission into the streets. Here they were met by scarcely less formidable obstacles, and their advance was, foot by foot, contested. Amidst these frightful scenes, the people of Galera vied in gallantry with the soldiers of the garrison. Old men fought bravely in the foremost line for the preservation of their homes. The wounded and dying received the grateful ministrations of delicate women, who fearlessly exposed themselves to fire in the discharge of the offices of mercy. Even children of tender years, undismayed by the smoke and din of battle, carried missiles to repel the enemy. The contest soon assumed the character of a hand-to-hand encounter. The barricaded streets, the battlemented houses—built of stone and with few openings—checked at each step the progress of the assailants. For nine hours with incessant fury the battle raged. At length the survivors were driven into an angle of the fortifications from whence there was no escape. Here, in the face of a relentless foe, the Moriscoes made their final stand, without the hope of clemency or the fear of death. Young girls died, scimetar in hand, with a resolution foreign to their age and sex. Fathers deliberately killed their wives and children, and then rushed forward to perish on the weapons of the Spaniards. Even the veterans of Italy, accustomed to the atrocities characteristic of the wars of the sixteenth century, were sickened by the frightful carnage. The population was almost annihilated. Of eight thousand persons who had composed it, fifteen hundred women and children alone survived the final assault, which, not inclusive of the losses of the besiegers, cost thirty-six hundred lives. The avarice of the victors had spared four hundred helpless captives, whom Don John of Austria, enraged at the casualties which his army had suffered, caused to be butchered in his presence. In this diabolical massacre the halberdiers of the royal guard took a conspicuous part, encouraged by the approving gestures of their commander, who regarded with pious complacency the extermination of these rebellious infidels.

The siege of Galera is memorable, not only on account of the gallantry of the defence, but also from the fact that it indicates the true beginning of the military career of the future hero of Lepanto. While in reality reflecting but little credit upon the reputation of that prince, the popularity he acquired by the achievement discloses the moral perversity of the public mind in that fanatical age. Not a word was uttered in censure of the savage vindictiveness directed against the aged and the helpless, a class whose condition appeals to the most generous impulses of mankind, but whose fate was universally applauded by bigots of every degree, as one step more towards the extirpation of heresy. A spirit of inherent deviltry seemed to distinguish for centuries the princes of the monarchy established by Ferdinand and Isabella. The progressive decadence of that monarchy from the day of its foundation—imperceptible at first, and concealing the incurable defects of the Castilian polity by the spurious glory of unprofitable wars and ruinous triumphs, and the genuine splendors of unparalleled discoveries, whose proceeds were employed for the oppression and debasement of countless millions of human beings—is one of the most significant and instructive events in the history of mankind.

The capture of Galera was a dearly purchased victory. The character of the resistance offered by its defenders did not afford a flattering prospect for the success of similar enterprises in the future. Many important strongholds, as difficult of approach, of equal strength, and of larger population, were still in the hands of the insurgents. The fate of the place, while a warning, served rather to confirm the obstinacy than to arouse the trepidation of the Moriscoes. Their dauntless courage had left hundreds of their enemies on the field. The bodies of Moor and Christian alike strewed the ramparts; and in the streets through which had surged the ever-advancing tide of battle had fallen many of the most distinguished nobles in the Spanish service. Realizing the difficulties he was liable to encounter, Don John made a demand upon the King for men and money. Reinforcements were easily obtained, but only through the clergy, who, as a rule, were always ready to profit by a crusade, but who generally regarded their spiritual aid as abundantly sufficient, and were never eager to furnish substantial contributions, could funds for the prosecution of the war be procured. This was accomplished by the establishment of religious brotherhoods in every diocese, whose members, by the purchase of indulgences, could thus perform a service of signal merit to the Church and, at the same time, secure absolution for their sins. The scheme proved remarkably successful; and larger sums were eventually collected than those yielded by the sale of similar concessions issued for this purpose directly from the Holy See.

Papal influence, at that time predominant in European politics, had, immediately after the storming of Galera, tendered to the Austrian prince, through Philip, the place of generalissimo of the Holy League against the Turks. The vast international interests which depended upon the proper exercise of this office could not be neglected or their protection deferred until after many months had been consumed in suppressing the revolt of a few thousand rebels. By that time the Ottoman fleet would have obtained the supremacy of the Mediterranean, and an innumerable horde of bloodthirsty fanatics have descended upon the continent of Europe. While military prestige was presumably essential to one accepting a position of such responsibility and power, the risks were too great and the field too narrow to seek it in a campaign of such doubtful results as that against the Moriscoes. Peremptory orders were sent Don John to hasten by diplomacy what it had been demonstrated would be both difficult and tedious to secure by arms. An attempt was therefore made to corrupt the fidelity of Fernando-al-Habaqui, the favorite councillor of Ibn-Abu, whose wisdom and discernment, like those of many statesmen of his time, were superior to his patriotism and integrity. In various interviews, nominally appointed for purposes relating to the exchange of prisoners, the co-operation of this influential personage was obtained; he was promised an unconditional pardon; and the lives of those who surrendered voluntarily were to be spared. As second in command, he was enabled to control a large extent of territory in the accomplishment of his treacherous design; all the detachments of Morisco troops outside the Alpujarras and within his jurisdiction were suddenly withdrawn; the dismayed inhabitants were abandoned to their fate; many of those taken were reduced to slavery or sent to the galleys; some succeeded in escaping to the mountains; and the entire district of the River Almanzora, thus driven to submission, yielded such a multitude of captives that the general, unable to feed or control them, was compelled to leave them unmolested until arrangements could be made for their final disposition. A royal decree recently promulgated had ordered the removal of all the Moriscoes of the lately conquered districts to Castile. This measure, nominally adopted for public security, had, in fact, its origin in more ignoble motives; in the country of the insurgents a considerable number of Moorish proprietors had succeeded, amidst the general confusion, in retaining their estates; and the effectual means of disposing of obnoxious neighbors by enforced migrations had demonstrated its value when the Moriscoes of the Albaycin had perished miserably on the highways. The unfortunate victims of state policy and religious persecution were surrounded and herded like cattle; their number is unrecorded, but it must have amounted to thousands; the few effects which they possessed they were generously permitted to sell for a trifle; and, shelterless and almost naked, they were distributed over the deserts of La Mancha, where the savage peasantry, considering them as intruders, inflicted upon these wretched exiles every outrage which malignity could devise or lawlessness execute. The presence of the Moriscoes in Castile, at that time a recent event, no doubt suggested to the fertile mind of Cervantes one of the most entertaining episodes in the crowning masterpiece of Spanish literature.

The remaining Morisco strongholds, contrary to general expectation, and discouraged by the treason of Al-Habaqui, were far from emulating the heroic example of Galera. Seron, Purchena, Tijola, all well-fortified towns, submitted without serious resistance. Negotiations, now authorized by Ibn-Abu, were still carried on with Al-Habaqui, whose treachery does not seem to have destroyed the harmony existing between himself and his sovereign. The impatience of Don John for the termination of hostilities induced him to publish a proclamation of partial and conditional amnesty. Its terms granted life to all, without distinction, who within twenty days should surrender; promised that men between the ages of fifteen and fifty, who within the specified time should deliver to the proper officials an arquebuse or a cross-bow, should not be sold as slaves; and required that the leaders of the revolt, and such as were unwilling to take advantage of the proclamation, should be given up as an indispensable preliminary to leniency towards those who submitted. The ambiguity which pervaded the document caused it to be regarded with suspicion, and the Moriscoes, who had learned by repeated experience the duplicity of their enemies, declined to accept conditions whose uncertainty offered such inducements to abuse and misconstruction, even if they had not been actually drawn up for that purpose.

Unable any longer to cope with his adversaries in the open field, Ibn-Abu adopted the more effective policy of guerilla warfare. His army, divided into strong detachments, was posted at advantageous points whence the operations of the enemy could be observed and communication easily maintained. In this way the invaders were placed at a great disadvantage. The Moors retired before their advance; the towns were evacuated; all property was removed or concealed; convoys were cut off; and the army of the Duke of Sesa, who commanded the Christians, was almost reduced to extremity by famine. It became absolutely necessary to establish a base of supplies, and the Marquis of Favara was despatched with a considerable force to Calahorra. The Spaniards reached their destination in safety; but their movements had not escaped the vigilance of the mountaineers; and their return march, conducted without the precautions adopted by every wise commander, encountered an ambuscade in the valley of Ravaha. Here the road, so constructed that four men could with difficulty move abreast, was blocked by loaded beasts of burden, purposely left there by the Moors; and the soldiers, tempted by the hope of plunder, broke into disorder to seize them. The measures of Ibn-Abu had been taken with consummate skill. The Spaniards, hopelessly entangled in the narrow defile and completely surrounded, were ruthlessly slaughtered. In former attacks the mountains had always resounded with the piercing war-cries of the assailants, but now not a sound, save the scattering reports of arquebuses and the whistling of arrows, broke the ominous stillness of the scene. The advance guard and the centre had been destroyed before the Marquis was even apprized of the presence of an enemy. He effected his escape only by superhuman exertion, and of the sixteen hundred soldiers who composed his command fourteen hundred atoned for the military crimes of official negligence and disregard of discipline. On the Moorish side not a man was killed, and less than twenty were wounded. History affords but few parallels to the battle of Ravaha when both the numbers engaged and the immunity of the victors are considered.

This disaster compelled a precipitate retreat, and, unmolested by the enemy, who had ample opportunities to intercept them, the Spaniards fell back upon Adra. Such was their desperate condition from hunger that the gardens and orchards in the neighborhood were stripped of everything edible, and the chronicles relate that not even a leaf remained. The capture of the insignificant fortress of Castil-de-Ferro, whose garrison numbered less than a hundred, was the only exploit which relieved the disastrous monotony of the Duke of Sesa’s campaign. The Alpujarras, although still occupied by the Moriscoes, were practically untenable. Every hostile army which had entered their defiles had marked with utter devastation an area of many square leagues. The fields were laid waste. The villages were burned. Information of the hidden magazines of the inhabitants was sold by their countrymen, and the stores destined for the winter were carried away or destroyed. At many points the peasantry had sought refuge in caves. It was a favorite diversion of the Spaniards to stifle these wretches with smoke, like so many wild animals in their burrows. The survivors were hunted like game through the mountains. On a single occasion, Don John received a most acceptable gift of four hundred heads and eleven hundred captives. It was a remarkable circumstance when any considerable body of insurgents were taken, for indiscriminate massacre was the rule of every campaign. It was considered a peculiarly pious and meritorious action to ransom prisoners and present them to the Inquisition. The fate for which these unfortunate victims were reserved made the most shocking enormities of open warfare seem trivial in comparison.

The relations of Al-Habaqui with the Christians were now generally known; his influence was constantly solicited by his countrymen; and his power became so great that even Ibn-Abu himself was compelled to pay court to his minister, and countenance proceedings of which he heartily disapproved to avoid incurring the hostility of a favorite in whom was practically vested the supreme authority. The latter considered that the time had at last arrived for the conclusion of his treasonable negotiations. With the countenance of Ibn-Abu, and accompanied by seventeen Moriscoes of rank, he met the commissioners of Don John at Andarax. Nothing came of the conference, but the secret understanding between the minister and the Spaniards was carried out as pre-arranged. An adroit substitution of a document embodying the concessions of the Spaniards for the one containing the demands of the Moriscoes completed the deception of the latter; the arrogance of the Castilians caused a withdrawal of the envoys; and Al-Habaqui, with a single companion, appeared before Don John and, in the name of Ibn-Abu, gave up his own scimetar and answered for the surrender of the insurgents. This farce had but little effect, and was speedily repudiated by the Morisco king. Then Al-Habaqui received eight hundred gold ducats from the Spanish general, with which to raise a company whose especial mission it was to bring in Ibn-Abu, dead or alive. The prominence of Al-Habaqui had turned his head. His imprudent boasts betrayed him; he was seized by the Turks, imprisoned, and strangled. The treaty he had negotiated at the sacrifice of every principle of honor and patriotism died with him. Ibn-Abu used every expedient to keep the execution of his treacherous minister from obtaining publicity. Still resolved on resistance, he hoped by temporizing with the enemy to procure better terms. His resources were by no means exhausted. Five thousand well-equipped veterans were under his command. He entertained hopes of assistance from Africa—that ignis fatuus of every Moslem revolution, which promised so much and always ended in nothing. In the mean time all was uncertainty in the Christian camp. Although a formal capitulation by an authorized functionary had been formally signed, no insurgents surrendered. The whereabouts of Al-Habaqui were unknown, and, while his death was unsuspected, his absence could not be explained. Under a safe-conduct an envoy was despatched to the Morisco king; he soon ascertained the truth and carried back a message of defiance. Preparations were at once made for a renewal of hostilities; the Spanish army, in three divisions, advanced upon the Alpujarras from as many different directions, and every effort was exerted to close the war by a vigorously prosecuted campaign. The situation of Ibn-Abu now became critical. The country in which he was compelled to operate had been stripped of everything that could sustain life. Much of it that a few years previously exhibited a high degree of cultivation had been transformed into a primeval solitude, where only the charred remnants of once flourishing settlements attested the former presence of man. His army was discouraged by the unrelenting pursuit of the enemy. As usual, the faithfully promised support from Africa proved a delusion.

The Moorish prince sent his brother, Mohammed-al-Galipa, an experienced captain, to direct the insurrection in the Serrania de Ronda. Betrayed by a Christian guide, who led him within the Spanish lines, he was killed, and his escort of two hundred picked soldiers destroyed. In Valencia, a conspiracy formed in collusion with the Moriscoes of the Alpujarras was detected before it had time to mature, and its instigators were punished with merciless cruelty. Encompassed by a numerous and powerful foe, Ibn-Abu recognized the impossibility of resistance and disbanded his army. A few of his adherents took refuge among their kindred in Barbary. The majority, however, unable to escape and disdaining submission, which implied a slavery worse than death or inquisitorial torture, remained with their sovereign. All were scattered through the mountains and found shelter in the caves of that region, which were known only to shepherds and to those whose haunts were in the wildest and most rugged parts of the sierra. The march of the Spaniards was accomplished amidst the silence of desolation. In the distance at times could be seen flying parties of scouts, but no resistance was encountered. Whatever had escaped the destructive progress of former expeditions was now annihilated. Soldiers wandering in quest of plunder occasionally stumbled upon an inhabited cavern; its inmates were driven out by fire, and the infliction of torture soon disclosed the location of others. In one of these the wife and daughters of Ibn-Abu were suffocated, while he, with two companions, escaped through a secret opening in the mountain. The insatiable thirst of blood and booty which urged on the invaders rendered protracted concealment impossible. With each new discovery, other places of refuge were successively revealed through the unsparing and diabolical torments devised by the Castilians. The women were spared and condemned to slavery. Male captives under twenty, as a rule, shared a similar fate; all over that age were put to death, some amidst prolonged and frightful sufferings. Rank, innocence, the helplessness of age, the touching infirmity of disease, important services previously rendered to the royal cause, the prospect of future loyalty which might result from clemency judiciously bestowed, considerations of public welfare, dependent upon the preservation of an industrious people, afforded no exemption from the inexorable decree of destruction, enforced with every circumstance of savage malignity. The tracking of fugitive Moriscoes was as exciting and far more profitable than the chase of wild beasts. It was no unusual occurrence for a party of these terrified wretches to be pursued for a distance of fifty miles. No obstacles were sufficient to deter the Spaniards in the tireless search for their prey; the more arduous the hardships undergone, the greater the enjoyment when the victims, vainly suppliant for mercy, were put to the sword or burned at the stake. This time no organized enemy was left in the Alpujarras to disturb in future the peace of the monarchy. More than ten thousand insurgents were murdered or enslaved in the space of a month. Wherever the soldiery could penetrate, every vestige of human life and artificial vegetation were alike swept away. The terraced slopes of the mountains, reclaimed by infinite toil to profitable culture, the once smiling and fertile valleys, were restored to their native wildness. No voice remained in that infinite solitude to dispute the dogmas of the Church or to offend the scruples of the orthodox by the celebration of the profane and detested rites of Islam.

In the Serrania de Ronda the rebels still continued active, but the ambition of rival chieftains aiming at supreme power frustrated each other’s plans and eventually caused the discomfiture of all. The reputation for valor which the mountaineers of Ronda had attained was national; military operations in that locality were not prosecuted with the same energy as elsewhere, but the irreconcilable spirit of faction, ever so fatal to the progress and stability of the Arab race, again interposed as a potent factor of disorganization. A sharp campaign directed by the Duke of Arcos scattered the forces of the rebels, and the Serrania de Ronda, while not actually conquered, no longer contained a force capable of even temporary resistance.

The war now substantially ended, it was announced by royal proclamation that every Morisco, without a single exception, should be forever expelled from the kingdom of Granada. The order was carried out to the letter, under the supervision of Don John of Austria. The number of the exiles was from fifty to a hundred thousand. Superior discipline and the personal attention of the prince prevented the horrors that had attended the banishment of the residents of the Albaycin. Some were sent to Seville and Murcia, others to Estremadura, La Mancha, and Navarre. The Castilian peasantry resented their appearance among good Christians and resisted the soldiers, whose presence alone prevented a massacre. As usual, the lands which the Moriscoes possessed were seized for the benefit of the crown; their personal property was sacrificed for much less than its value, and many hitherto accustomed to luxury, plundered of the little they had saved from Spanish rapacity, reached their new homes in a state of absolute destitution. The remote fastnesses of the Alpujarras still concealed a number of fugitives, who cherished the fallacious hope that amidst the rejoicings incident to victory they might remain unnoticed and forgotten. Among them was Ibn-Abu, whose followers, the infamous monfis, alike inaccessible to honor or pity, were ready for every act of treachery, and some of whom had already discussed the expediency of obtaining pardon by the sacrifice of the King. These homeless wanderers soon realized that they were still the objects of Spanish animosity. The establishment of regular garrisons and the disbanding of the rest of the army were coincident with the formation of bands of scouts, whose duty it was to scour the country and capture every Morisco that could be found. In order to stimulate their activity, a reward of twenty ducats was offered for each insurgent. The chase of Moriscoes now became a more lucrative diversion than ever. The wildest portion of the sierra was examined foot by foot. Large numbers of fugitives were taken, and the prisons soon became too small to contain the multitudes that crowded them to suffocation. The utmost diligence of the authorities was unequal to the task of providing quarters for the new-comers, even by the wholesale execution of the old. The most distinguished prisoners were hung. Others were tortured. Many were handed over to the Inquisition, which, while never unsupplied with victims, was glad of the opportunity to make a signal example of such troublesome heretics. The majority were condemned to the galleys, which, all things being taken into account, was perhaps the most severe punishment that a prisoner could undergo. To be considered a mere machine, almost without identity and destitute of feeling, chained for days to the oar, exposed alike to the burning sun and the tempest, subject to hourly laceration by the scourge of a brutal overseer; ill-fed and unprotected from the weapons of an enemy, no fate to which unfortunate humanity is liable would not seem preferable to the lot of the galley-slave. Finally, the available facilities of Granada proved totally inadequate for the disposition of captive Moriscoes; extraordinary powers were conferred upon the commanders of the fortresses and outposts; the scenes of carnage were transferred from the capital to every accessible point of the Alpujarras, and the objects of national hatred and intolerance daily paid by hundreds the extreme penalty of misfortune and defeat.