CHAPTER LXXV.
Continuation of the siege of Baza.
The old Moorish king El Zagal
mounted a tower, and looked out eagerly,
to enjoy the sight of the Christian
marauders, brought captive into the
gates of Guadix; but his spirits fell,
when he beheld his own troops stealing
back in the dusk of the evening in
broken, dejected parties.
The fortune of war bore hard against
the old monarch. His mind was harassed
by the disastrous tidings brought each
day from Baza, of the sufferings of the
inhabitants, and the numbers of the garrison
slain in the frequent skirmishes.
He dared not go in person to the relief of
the place; for his presence was necessary
in Guadix, to keep a check upon his
nephew in Granada. He made efforts to
send reinforcements and supplies; but
they were intercepted, and either captured
or driven back. Still his situation
was, in some respects, preferable to that
of his nephew Boabdil. The old monarch
was battling like a warrior on the
last step of his throne. El Chico remained,
a kind of pensioned vassal, in
the luxurious abode of the Alhambra.
The chivalrous part of the inhabitants of
Granada could not but compare the
generous stand made by the warriors of
Baza, for their country and their faith,
with their own time-serving submission
to the yoke of an unbeliever. Every
account they received of the wars of
Baza wrung their hearts with agony;
every account of the exploits of its devoted
defenders brought blushes to their
cheeks. Many stole forth secretly with
their weapons, and hastened to join the
besieged; and the partisans of El Zagal
wrought upon the patriotism and passions
of the remainder, until another of those
conspiracies was formed, that were continually
menacing the unsteady throne of
Granada. It was concerted by the conspirators,
to assail the Alhambra on a
sudden; to slay Boabdil; to assemble all
the troops, and march to Guadix; where,
being reinforced by the garrison of that
place, and led on by the old warrior monarch,
they might fall, with overwhelming
power, upon the Christian army before
Baza.
Fortunately for Boabdil, he discovered
the conspiracy in time, and had the heads
of the leaders struck off, and placed upon
the walls of the Alhambra: an act of
severity, unusual with the mild and
wavering monarch, which struck terror
into the disaffected, and produced a kind
of mute tranquillity throughout the city.
King Ferdinand had full information
of all these movements and measures
for the relief of Baza, and took timely
precautions to prevent them. Bodies of
horsemen held watch in the mountain
passes, to prevent all supplies, and to
intercept any generous volunteers from
Granada; and watchtowers were erected,
or scouts placed, on any commanding
height, to give the alarm, at the least
sign of a hostile turban.
The Prince Cidi Yahye and his brave
companions in arms were thus gradually
walled up, as it were, from the rest of the
world. A line of towers, the battlements
of which bristled with troops, girdled their
city; and behind the intervening bulwarks
and palisadoes passed and repassed continual
bodies of troops. Week after
week, and month after month, glided
away; but Ferdinand waited in vain for
the garrison to be either terrified or
starved into surrender. Every day they
sallied forth with the spirit and alacrity
of troops high fed, and flushed with confidence.
"The Christian monarch," said
the veteran Mohammed ben Hassan,
"builds his hopes upon our growing
faint and desponding: we must manifest
unusual cheerfulness and vigour. What
would be rashness in other service, becomes
prudence with us." The Prince
Cidi Yahye agreed with him in opinion;
and sallied forth, with his troops, upon
all kinds of hare-brained exploits. They
laid ambushes, concerted surprises, and
made the most desperate assaults. The
great extent of the Christian works rendered
them weak in many parts. Against
these the Moors directed their attacks;
suddenly breaking into them, making a
hasty ravage, and bearing off their booty,
in triumph, to the city. Sometimes they
would sally forth, by the passes and clefts
of the mountain in the rear of the city,
which it was difficult to guard, and, hurrying
down into the plain, would sweep
off all cattle and sheep that were grazing
near the suburbs, and all stragglers from
the camp.
These partisan sallies brought on many
sharp and bloody encounters; in some of
which, Don Alonso de Aguilar and the
alcayde de los Donzeles distinguished
themselves greatly. During one of these
hot skirmishes, which happened on the
skirts of the mountain about twilight, a
valiant cavalier, named Martin Galindo,
beheld a powerful Moor dealing deadly
blows about him, and making great havoc
among the Christians. Galindo pressed
forward, and challenged him to single
combat. The Moor, who was of the
valiant tribe of the Abencerrages, was
not slow in answering the call. Couching
their lances, they rushed furiously
upon each other. At the first shock, the
Moor was wounded in the face, and
borne out of his saddle. Before Galindo
could check his steed, and turn from his
career, the Moor sprang upon his feet,
recovered his lance, and, rushing upon
him, wounded him in the head and the
arm. Though Galindo was on horseback,
and the Moor on foot, yet such was
the prowess and address of the latter, that
the Christian knight, being disabled in
the arm, was in the utmost peril, when
his comrades hastened to his assistance.
At their approach, the valiant pagan
retreated slowly up the rocks, keeping
them at bay, until he found himself
among his companions.
Several of the young Spanish cavaliers,
stung by the triumph of this Moslem
knight, would have challenged others of
the Moors to single combat; but King
Ferdinand prohibited all vaunting encounters
of the kind. He forbade his
troops, also, to provoke skirmishes; well
knowing, that the Moors were more dexterous
than most people in this irregular
mode of fighting, and were better acquainted
with the ground.
