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.