The Invasion Of Africa
As Italy was invaded by Gonsalvo de Cordova, the Great Captain, so Africa
was invaded by Cardinal Ximenes, the Great Churchman, one of the ablest
men who ever appeared in Spain, despite the fact that he made a dreadful
bonfire of thousands of Arabian manuscripts in the great square of
Granada. The greater part of these were copies of the Koran, but many of
them were of high scientific and literary value, and impossible to
/>
replace. Yet, while thus engaged in a work fitted for an unlettered
barbarian, Ximenes was using his large revenues to found the University of
Alcala, the greatest educational institution in Spain, and was preparing
his famous polyglot Bible, for which the rarest manuscripts were
purchased, without regard to cost, that the Scriptures might be shown at
one view in their various ancient languages. To indicate the cost of this
work, it is said that he paid four thousand golden crowns for seven
manuscripts, which came too late to be of use in the work. It is strange,
under these circumstances, that he failed to preserve the valuable part of
the Arabian manuscripts.
The vast labors undertaken by Ximenes at home did not keep him from
enterprises abroad. He was filled with a burning zeal for the propagation
of the Catholic faith, formed plans for a crusade to the Holy Land, and
organized a remarkably successful expedition against the Moslems of
Africa. It is of the latter that we desire to speak.
Soon after the death of Isabella, Mazalquivir, a nest of pirates on the
Barbary coast, had been captured by an expedition organized by the
energetic Ximenes. He quickly set in train a more difficult enterprise,
one directed against Oran, a Moorish city of twenty thousand inhabitants,
strongly fortified, with a large commerce, and the haunt of a swarm of
piratical cruisers. The Spanish king had no money and little heart for
this enterprise, but that did not check the enthusiastic cardinal, who
offered to loan all the sums needed, and to take full charge of the
expedition, leading it himself, if the king pleased. Ferdinand made no
objection to this, being quite willing to make conquests at some one
else's expense, and the cardinal set to work.
It is not often that an individual can equip an army, but Ximenes had a
great income of his own and had the resources of the Church at his back.
By the close of the spring of 1509 he had made ready a fleet of ten
galleys and eighty smaller vessels, and assembled an army of four thousand
horse and ten thousand foot, fully supplied with provisions and military
stores for a four months' campaign. Such was the energy and activity of a
man whose life, until a few years before, had been spent in the solitude
of the cloister and in the quiet practices of religion, and who was now an
infirm invalid of more than seventy years of age.
The nobles thwarted his plans, and mocked at the idea of "a monk fighting
the battles of Spain." The soldiers had little taste for fighting under a
father of the Church, "while the Great Captain was left to stay at home
and count his beads like a hermit." The king threw cold water on the
enterprise. But the spirit and enthusiasm of the old monk triumphed over
them all, and on the 16th of May the fleet weighed anchor, reaching the
port of Mazalquivir on the following day. Oran, the goal of the
expedition, lay about a league away.
As soon as the army was landed and drawn up in line, Ximenes mounted his
mule and rode along its front, dressed in his priestly robes, but with a
sword by his side. A group of friars followed, also with monastic garbs
and weapons of war. The cardinal, ascending a rising ground, made an
animated address to the soldiers, rousing their indignation by speaking of
the devastation of the coast of Spain by the Moslems, and awakening their
cupidity by dwelling on the golden spoil to be found in the rich city of
Oran. He concluded by saying that he had come to peril his own life in the
service of the cross and lead them in person to battle.
The officers now crowded around the warlike old monk and earnestly begged
him not to expose his sacred person to the hazards of the fight, saying
that his presence would do more harm than good, as the men might be
distracted from the work before them by attending to his personal safety.
This last argument moved the warlike cardinal, who, with much reluctance,
consented to keep in the rear and leave the command of the army to its
military leader, Count Pedro Navarro.
The day was now far advanced. Beacon-fires on the hill-tops showed that
the country was in alarm. Dark groups of Moorish soldiers could be seen on
the summit of the ridge that lay between Oran and Mazalquivir, and which
it would be necessary to take before the city could be reached. The men
were weary with the labors of landing, and needed rest and refreshment,
and Navarro deemed it unsafe to attempt anything more that day; but the
energetic prelate bade him "to go forward in God's name," and orders to
advance were at once given.
Silently the Spanish troops began to ascend the steep sides of the
acclivity. Fortunately for them, a dense mist had arisen, which rolled
down the skirts of the hills and filled the valley through which they
moved. As soon as they left its cover and were revealed to the Moors a
shower of balls and arrows greeted them, followed by a desperate charge
down the hill. But the Spanish infantry, with their deep ranks and long
pikes, moved on unbroken by the assault, while Navarro opened with a
battery of heavy guns on the flank of the enemy.
Thrown into disorder by the deadly volleys, the Moors began to give
ground, and, pressed upon heavily by the Spanish spearsmen, soon broke
into flight. The Spaniards hotly pursued, breaking rank in their eagerness
in a way that might have proved fatal but for the panic of the Moors, who
had lost all sense of discipline. The hill-top was reached, and down its
opposite slope poured the Spaniards, driving the fleeing Moors. Not far
before them rose the walls of Oran. The fleet had anchored before the city
and was vigorously cannonading it, being answered with equal spirit by
sixty pieces of artillery on the fortifications. Such were the excitement
and enthusiasm of the soldiers that they forgot weariness and disregarded
obstacles. In swift pursuit they followed the scattering Moors, and in a
brief time were close to the walls, defended by a deeply discouraged
garrison.
The Spaniards had brought few ladders, but in the intense excitement and
energy of the moment no obstacle deterred them. Planting their long pikes
against the walls, or thrusting them into the crevices between the stones,
they clambered up with remarkable dexterity,--a feat which they were
utterly unable to repeat the next day, when they tried it in cold blood.
A weak defence was made, and the ramparts soon swarmed with Spanish
soldiers. Sousa, the captain of the cardinal's guard, was the first to
gain the summit, where he unfurled the banner of Ximenes,--the cross on one
side and the cardinal's arms on the other. Six other banners soon floated
from the walls, and the soldiers, leaping down into the streets, gained
and threw open the gates. In streamed the army, sweeping all opposition
before it. Resistance and flight were alike unavailing. Houses and mosques
were tumultuously entered, no mercy being shown, no regard for age or sex,
the soldiers abandoning themselves to the brutal license and ferocity
common to the wars of that epoch.
In vain Navarro sought to check his brutal troops; they were beyond
control; the butchery never ceased until, gorged with the food and wine
found in the houses, the worn-out soldiers flung themselves down in the
streets and squares to sleep. Four thousand Moors had been slain in the
brief assault, and perhaps twice that number were taken prisoners. The
city of Oran, that morning an opulent and prosperous community, was at
night a ruined and captive city, with its ferocious conquerors sleeping
amidst their slaughtered victims.
LIBERATION OF THE CAPTIVES FROM THE DUNGEON OF ORAN.
It was an almost incredible victory, considering the rapidity with which
it had been achieved. On the morning of the 16th the fleet of transports
had set sail from Spain. On the night of the 17th the object of the
expedition was fully accomplished, the army being in complete possession
of Oran, a strongly manned and fortified city, taken almost without loss.
Ximenes, to whose warlike enthusiasm this remarkable victory was wholly
due, embarked in his galley the next morning and sailed along the city's
margin, his soul swelling with satisfaction at his wonderful success. On
landing, the army hailed him as the true victor of Oran, a wave of
acclamations following him as he advanced to the alcazar, where the keys
of the fortress were put into his hands. A few hours after the surrender
of the city a powerful reinforcement arrived for its relief, but on
learning of its loss the disconcerted Moors retired. Had the attack been
deferred to the next day, as Navarro proposed, it would probably have
failed. The people of Spain ascribed the victory to inspiration from
heaven; but the only inspiration lay in the impetuous energy and
enthusiasm of the cardinal. Yet at that period it was by no means uncommon
to invent stories of miracles, and it is soberly asserted that the sun
stood still for several hours while the action went on, Heaven repeating
the miracle of Joshua, and halting the solar orb in its career, that more
of the heathen might be slaughtered. The greatest miracle of all would
have been had the sun stood still nowhere else than over the fated city of
Oran.
It may not be amiss to add to this narrative an account of a second
expedition against Africa, made by Charles V. some thirty years later, in
which Heaven failed to come to the aid of Spain, and whose termination was
as disastrous as that of the expedition of Ximenes had been fortunate.
It was the city of Algiers that Charles set out to reduce, and, though the
season was late and it was the time of the violent autumnal winds, he
persisted in his purpose in spite of the advice of experienced mariners.
The expedition consisted of twenty thousand foot and two thousand horse,
with a large body of noble volunteers. The storms came as promised and
gave the army no small trouble in its voyage, but at length, with much
difficulty and danger, the troops were landed on the coast near Algiers
and advanced at once upon the town.
Hascan, the Moorish leader, had only about six thousand men to oppose to
the large Spanish army, and had little hope of a successful resistance by
force of arms. But in this case Heaven--if we admit its interference at
all--came to the aid of the Moors. On the second day after landing, and
before operations had fairly begun, the clouds gathered and the skies grew
threatening. Towards evening rain began to fall and a fierce wind arose.
During the night a violent tempest swept the camp, and the soldiers, who
were without tents or shelter of any kind, were soon in a deplorable
state. Their camp, which was in a low situation, was quickly overflowed by
the pouring rains, and the ground became ankle deep in mud. No one could
lie down, while the wind blew so furiously that they could only stand by
thrusting their spears into the ground and clinging to them. About
day-dawn they were attacked by the vigilant Hascan, and a considerable
number of them killed before the enemy was forced to retire.
Bad as the night had been, the day proved more disastrous still. The
tempest continued, its force increasing, and the sea, roused to its utmost
fury by the winds, made sad havoc of the ships. They were torn from their
anchorage, flung violently together, beat to pieces on the rocks, and
driven ashore, while many sank bodily in the waves. In less than an hour
fifteen war-vessels and a hundred and forty transports were wrecked and
eight thousand men had perished, those of the crews who reached shore
being murdered by the Moors as soon as they touched land.
It was with anguish and astoundment that the emperor witnessed this wreck
of all his hopes, the great stores which he had collected for subsistence
and military purposes being in one fatal hour buried in the depths of the
sea. At length the wind began to fall, and some hopes arose that vessels
enough might have escaped to carry the distressed army back to Europe. But
darkness was again at hand, and a second night of suspense and misery was
passed. In the morning a boat reached land with a messenger from Andrew
Doria, the admiral of the fleet, who sent word that in fifty years of
maritime life he had never seen so frightful a storm, and that he had been
forced to bear away with his shattered ships to Cape Metafuz, whither he
advised the emperor to march with all speed, as the skies were still
threatening and the tempest might be renewed.
The emperor was now in a fearful quandary. Metafuz was at least three
days' march away. All the food that had been brought ashore was consumed.
The soldiers, worn out with fatigue, were in no condition for such a
journey. Yet it was impossible to stay where they were. There was no need
of deliberation; no choice was left; their only hope of safety lay in
instant movement.
The sick, wounded, and feeble were placed in the centre, the stronger in
front and rear, and the disastrous march began. Some of the men could
hardly bear the weight of their arms; others, worn out with toiling
through the nearly impassable roads, lay down and died; many perished from
hunger and exhaustion, there being no food but roots and berries gathered
by the way and the flesh of horses killed by the emperor's order; many
were drowned in the streams, swollen by the severe rains; many were killed
by the enemy, who followed and harassed them throughout the march. The
late gallant army was a bedraggled and miserable fragment when the
survivors at length reached Metafuz. Fortunately the storm was at an end,
and they were able to obtain from the ships the provisions of which they
stood so sorely in need.
The calamities which attended this unlucky expedition were not yet at an
end. No sooner had the soldiers embarked than a new storm arose, less
violent than the former, but sufficient to scatter the ships to right and
left, some making port in Spain, some in Italy, all seeking such harbors
of refuge as they could find. The emperor, after passing through great
perils, was driven to the port of Bugia in Africa, where contrary winds
held him prisoner for several weeks. He at length reached Spain, to find
the whole land in dismay at the fate of the gallant expedition, which had
set out with such high hopes of success. To the end of his reign Charles
V. had no further aspirations for conquest in Africa.