nfall of Zahara. Heaven
sometimes speaks (says he) through the mouths of false prophets for the
confusion of the wicked. By the fall of this fortress was the prediction
of the santon of Granada in some measure fulfilled, that "the ruins of
Zahara should fall upon the heads of the infidels."

Our zealous chronicler scoffs at the Moorish alcayde who lost his
fortress by surprise in broad daylight, and contrasts the vigilance of
the Christian governor of Alhama, the town taken in retaliation for the
storming of Zahara.

The important post of Alhama was at this time confided by King Ferdinand
to Don Inigo Lopez de Mendoza, count of Tendilla, a cavalier of noble
blood, brother to the grand cardinal of Spain. He had been instructed by
the king not merely to maintain his post, but also to make sallies and
lay waste the surrounding country. His fortress was critically situated.
It was within seven leagues of Granada, and at no great distance from
the warlike city of Loxa. It was nestled in the lap of the mountains
commanding the high-road to Malaga and a view over the extensive Vega.
Thus situated, in the heart of the enemy's country, surrounded by foes
ready to assail him and a rich country for him to ravage, it behooved
this cavalier to be for ever on the alert. He was in fact an experienced
veteran, a shrewd and wary officer, and a commander amazingly prompt and
fertile in expedients.

On assuming the command he found that the garrison consisted but of one
thousand men, horse and foot. They were hardy troops, seasoned in rough
mountain-campaigning, but reckless and dissolute, as soldiers are apt
to be when accustomed to predatory warfare. They would fight hard for
booty, and then gamble it heedlessly away or squander it in licentious
revelling. Alhama abounded with hawking, sharping, idle hangers-on,
eager to profit by the vices and follies of the garrison. The soldiers
were oftener gambling and dancing beneath the walls than keeping watch
upon the battlements, and nothing was heard from morning till night
but the noisy contests of cards and dice, mingled with the sound of the
bolero or fandango, the drowsy strumming of the guitar, and the rattling
of the castanets, while often the whole was interrupted by the loud
brawl and fierce and bloody contest.

The count of Tendilla set himself vigorously to reform these excesses:
he knew that laxity of morals is generally attended by neglect of duty,
and that the least breach of