owly and reluctantly,
therefore, he retreated to the city, his bosom swelling with indignation
and despair. Entering the gates, he ordered them to be closed and
secured with bolts and bars; for he refused to place any further
confidence in the archers and arquebusiers stationed to defend them, and
vowed never more to sally with foot-soldiers to the field.

In the mean time, the artillery thundered from the walls and checked all
further advance of the Christians. King Ferdinand therefore called off
his troops, and returned in triumph to his camp, leaving the beautiful
city of Granada wrapped in the smoke of her fields and gardens and
surrounded by the bodies of her slaughtered children.

Such was the last sally of the Moors in defence of their favorite city.
The French ambassador, who witnessed it, was filled with wonder at the
prowess, the dexterity, and the daring of the Moslems.

In truth, this whole war was an instance, memorable in history, of
the most persevering resolution. For nearly ten years had the war
endured--an almost uninterrupted series of disasters to the Moorish
arms. Their towns had been taken, one after another, and their brethren
slain or led into captivity. Yet they disputed every city and town
and fortress and castle, nay, every rock itself, as if they had been
inspirited by victories. Wherever they could plant foot to fight,
or find wall or cliff whence to launch an arrow, they disputed their
beloved country; and now, when their capital was cut off from all
relief and a whole nation thundered at its gates, they still maintained
defence, as if they hoped some miracle to interpose in their behalf.
Their obstinate resistance (says an ancient chronicler) shows the grief
with which they yielded up the Vega, which was to them a paradise and
heaven. Exerting all the strength of their arms, they embraced, as it
were, that most beloved soil, from which neither wounds nor defeats, nor
death itself, could part them. They stood firm, battling for it with the
united force of love and grief, never drawing back the foot while they
had hands to fight or fortune to befriend them.*

* Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, R. 30, c. 3.

CHAPTER XCV.

CONFLAGRATION OF THE CHRISTIAN CAMP.--BUILDING OF SANTA FE.

The moors now shut themselves up gloomily within their walls; there
were no longer any daring sallies from their gates, and even the martial
clangor of the drum and trumpet, which had continually resoun