University of Virginia Library

36. CHAPTER XXXVI.
Of the Christian army which assembled at the city of
Cordova.

Great and glorious was the style with which the
Catholic sovereigns opened another year's campaign
of this eventful war. It was like commencing another
act of a stately and heroic drama, where the
curtain rises to the inspiring sound of martial melody,
and the whole stage glitters with the array of warriors
and the pomp of arms. The ancient city of
Cordova was the place appointed by the sovereigns
for the assemblage of the troops; and early in the
spring of 1436, the fair valley of the Guadalquivir
resounded with the shrill blast of trumpet, and the
impatient neighing of the war-horse. In this splendid
era of Spanish chivalry, there was a rivalship
among the nobles who most should distinguish himself
by the splendor of his appearance, and the number
and equipments of his feudal followers. Every
day beheld some cavalier of note, the representative
of some proud and powerful house, entering the gates
of Cordova with sound of trumpet, and displaying
his banner and device, renowned in many a contest.
He would appear in sumptuous array, surrounded
by pages and lackeys no less gorgeously attired, and
followed by a host of vassals and retainers, horse and
foot, all admirably equipped in burnished armor.

Such was the state of Don Inigo Lopez de Mendoza,
duke of Infantado; who may be cited as a picture
of a warlike noble of those times. He brought
with him five hundred men-at-arms of his household,
armed and mounted à la gineta and à la guisa.
The cavaliers who attended him were magnificently
armed and dressed. The housings of fifty of his
horses were of rich cloth, embroidered with gold;
and others were of brocade. The sumpter mules
had housings of the same, with halters of silk; while
the bridles, head-pieces, and all the harnessing, glittered
with silver.

The camp equipage of these noble and luxurious
warriors, was equally magnificent. Their tents were
gay pavilions, of various colors, fitted up with silken
hangings and decorated with fluttering pennons.
They had vessels of gold and silver for the service
of their tables, as if they were about to engage in a
course of stately feasts and courtly revels, instead
of the stern encounters of rugged and mountainous
warfare. Sometimes they passed through the streets
of Cordova at night, in splendid cavalcade, with
great numbers of lighted torches, the rays of which
falling upon polished armor and nodding plumes, and
silken scarfs, and trappings of golden embroidery,
filled all beholders with admiration.[1]

But it was not the chivalry of Spain, alone, which
thronged the streets of Cordova. The fame of this
war had spread throughout christendom: it was

considered a kind of crusade; and Catholic knights
from all parts hastened to signalize themselves in so
holy a cause. There were several valiant chevaliers
from France, among whom the most distinguished
was Gaston du Leon, Seneschal of Toulouse.
With him came a gallant train, well armed and
mounted, and decorated with rich surcoats and panaches
of feathers. These cavaliers, it is said, eclipsed
all others in the light festivities of the court: they
were devoted to the fair, but not after the solemn
and passionate manner of the Spanish lovers; they
were gay, gallant and joyous in their amours, and
captivated by the vivacity of their attacks. They
were at first held in light estimation by the grave and
stately Spanish knights, until they made themselves
to be respected by their wonderful prowess in the
field.

The most conspicuous of the volunteers, however,
who appeared in Cordova on this occasion, was an
English knight of royal connexion. This was the
lord Scales, earl of Rivers, brother to the queen of
England, wife of Henry VII. He had distinguished
himself in the preceding year, at the battle of Bosworth
field, where Henry Tudor, then earl of Richmond,
overcame Richard III. That decisive battle
having left the country at peace, the earl of Rivers,
having conceived a passion for warlike scenes, repaired
to the Castilian court, to keep his arms in exercise,
in a campaign against the Moors. He brought
with him a hundred archers, all dexterous with the
long-bow and the cloth-yard arrow; also two hundred

yeomen, armed cap-a-pie, who fought with pike
and battle-axe,—men robust of frame, and of prodigious
strength. The worthy padre Fray Antonio
Agapida describes this stranger knight and his followers,
with his accustomed accuracy and minuteness.

“This cavalier,” he observes, “was from the far
island of England, and brought with him a train of
his vassals; men who had been hardened in certain
civil wars which raged in their country. They were a
comely race of men, but too fair and fresh for warriors,
not having the sun-burnt warlike hue of our
old Castilian soldiery. They were huge feeders also,
and deep carousers, and could not accommodate
themselves to the sober diet of our troops, but must
fain eat and drink after the manner of their own
country. They were often noisy and unruly, also, in
their wassail; and their quarter of the camp was
prone to be a scene of loud revel and sudden brawl.
They were, withal, of great pride, yet it was not
like our inflammable Spanish pride; they stood not
much upon the pundonor, the high punctilio, and
rarely drew the stiletto in their disputes; but their
pride was silent and contumelious. Though from a
remote and somewhat barbarous island, they believed
themselves the most perfect men upon earth, and
magnified their chieftain, the lord Scales, beyond the
greatest of their grandees. With all this, it must be
said of them that they were marvellous good men in
the field, dexterous archers, and powerful with the
battle-axe. In their great pride and self-will, they
always sought to press in the advance and take the

post of danger, trying to outvie our Spanish chivalry.
They did not rush on fiercely to the fight, nor make
a brilliant onset like the Moorish and Spanish troops,
but they went into the fight deliberately and persisted
obstinately, and were slow to find out when they
were beaten. Withal they were much esteemed, yet
little liked by our soldiery, who considered them
staunch companions in the field, yet coveted but
little fellowship with them in the camp.

“Their commander, the lord Scales, was an accomplished
cavalier, of gracious and noble presence
and fair speech; it was a marvel to see so much
courtesy in a knight brought up so far from our Castilian
court. He was much honored by the king and
queen, and found great favor with the fair dames
about the court, who indeed are rather prone to be
pleased with foreign cavaliers. He went always in
costly state, attended by pages and esquires, and accompanied
by noble young cavaliers of his country,
who had enrolled themselves under his banner, to
learn the gentle exercise of arms. In all pageants
and festivals, the eyes of the populace were attracted
by the singular bearing and rich array of the
English earl and his train, who prided themselves in
always appearing in the garb and manner of their
country—and were indeed something very magnificent,
delectable, and strange to behold.”

The worthy chronicler is no less elaborate in his
description of the Masters of Santiago, Calatrava,
and Alcantara, and their valiant knights, armed at all
points, and decorated with the badges of their orders.

These, he affirms, were the flower of christian chivalry:
being constantly in service, they became more
stedfast and accomplished in discipline, than the irregular
and temporary levies of the feudal nobles.
Calm, solemn, and stately, they sat like towers upon
their powerful chargers. On parades, they manifested
none of the show and ostentation of the other troops:
neither, in battle, did they endeavor to signalize
themselves by any fiery vivacity, or desperate and
vain-glorious exploit—every thing, with them, was
measured and sedate; yet it was observed, that none
were more warlike in their appearance in the camp,
or more terrible for their achievements in the field.

The gorgeous magnificence of the Spanish nobles
found but little favor in the eyes of the sovereigns.
They saw that it caused a competition in expense,
ruinous to cavaliers of moderate fortune; and they
feared that a softness and effeminacy might thus be
introduced, incompatible with the stern nature of the
war. They signified their disapprobation to several
of the principal noblemen, and recommended a more
sober and soldierlike display while in actual service.

“These are rare troops for a tourney, my lord,”
said Ferdinand to the duke of Infantado, as he beheld
his retainers glittering in gold and embroidery;
“but gold, though gorgeous, is soft and yielding: iron
is the metal for the field.”

“Sire,” replied the duke, “if my men parade in
gold, your majesty will find they fight with steel.”
The king smiled but shook his head, and the duke
treasured up his speech in his heart.

It remains now to reveal the immediate object of
this mighty and chivalrous preparation; which had,
in fact, the gratification of a royal pique at bottom.
The severe lesson which Ferdinand had received
from the veteran Ali Atar, before the walls
of Loxa, though it had been of great service in rendering
him wary in his attacks upon fortified places,
yet rankled sorely in his mind; and he had ever since
held Loxa in peculiar odium. It was, in truth, one
of the most belligerent and troublesome cities on the
borders; incessantly harassing Andalusia by its incursions.
It also intervened between the christian
territories and Alhama, and other important places
gained in the kingdom of Granada. For all these
reasons, king Ferdinand had determined to make
another grand attempt upon this warrior city; and
for this purpose, he had summoned to the field his
most powerful chivalry.

It was in the month of May, that the king sallied
from Cordova, at the head of his army. He had
twelve thousand cavalry and forty thousand foot-soldiers,
armed with cross-bows, lances, and arquebusses.
There were six thousand pioneers, with
hatchets, pickaxes, and crowbars, for levelling roads.
He took with him, also, a great train of lombards
and other heavy artillery, with a body of Germans
skilled in the service of ordnance and the art of
battering walls.

It was a glorious spectacle (says Fray Antonio
Agapida) to behold this pompous pageant issuing
forth from Cordova, the pennons and devices of the

proudest houses of Spain, with those of gallant
stranger knights, fluttering above a sea of crests and
plumes; to see it slowly moving, with flash of helm,
and cuirass, and buckler, across the ancient bridge,
and reflected in the waters of the Guadalquivir,
while the neigh of steed and blast of trumpet vibrated
in the air, and resounded to the distant mountains.
“But, above all,” concludes the good father,
with his accustomed zeal, “it was triumphant to behold
the standard of the faith every where displayed,
and to reflect that this was no worldly-minded army,
intent upon some temporal scheme of ambition or
revenge; but a christian host, bound on a crusade to
extirpate the vile seed of Mahomet from the land,
and to extend the pure dominion of the church.”