3. CHAPTER III.
How King Ferdinand and his army were exposed to imminent
peril, before Velez Malaga.
While the standard of the cross waved on the
hills before Velez Malaga, and every height and cliff
bristled with hostile arms, the civil war between the
factions of the Alhambra and the Albaycin, or rather
between El Zagal and El Chico, continued to convulse
the city of Granada. The tidings of the investment
of Velez Malaga at length roused the attention
of the old men and the alfaquis, whose heads were
not heated by the daily broils. They spread themselves
through the city, and endeavored to arouse
the people to a sense of their common danger.
“Why,” said they, “continue these brawls between
brethren and kindred? what battles are these,
where even triumph is ignominious, and the victor
blushes and conceals his scars? Behold the christians
ravaging the land won by the valor and blood of
your forefathers; dwelling in the houses they have
built, sitting under the trees they have planted, while
your brethren wander about, houseless and desolate.
Do you wish to seek your real foe?—he is encamped
on the mountain of Bentomiz. Do you want a field
for the display of your valor?—you will find it before
the walls of Velez Malaga.”
When they had roused the spirit of the people,
they made their way to the rival kings, and addressed
them with like remonstrances. Hamet Aben
Zarrax, the inspired santon, reproached El Zagal
with his blind and senseless ambition: “You are
striving to be king,” said he, bitterly, “yet suffer the
kingdom to be lost!”
El Zagal found himself in a perplexing dilemma.
He had a double war to wage,—with the enemy
without, and the enemy within. Should the christians
gain possession of the sea-coast, it would be
ruinous to the kingdom; should he leave Granada
to oppose them, his vacant throne might be seized
on by his nephew. He made a merit of necessity,
and, pretending to yield to the remonstrances of the
alfaquis, endeavored to compromise with Boabdil.
He expressed deep concern at the daily losses of the
country, caused by the dissensions of the capital; an
opportunity now presented to retrieve all by a blow.
The christians had in a manner put themselves in a
tomb between the mountains—nothing remained but
to throw the earth upon them. He offered to resign
the title of king, to submit to the government of his
nephew, and fight under his standard; all he desired
was to hasten to the relief of Velez Malaga, and to
take full vengeance on the christians.
Boabdil spurned his proposition, as the artifice of
a hypocrite and a traitor. “How shall I trust a
man,” said he, “who has murdered my father and
my kindred by treachery, and has repeatedly sought
my own life, both by violence and stratagem?”
El Zagal boiled with rage and vexation—but there
was no time to be lost. He was beset by the alfaquis
and the nobles of his court; the youthful cavaliers
were hot for action, the common people loud in their
complaints that the richest cities were abandoned to
the mercy of the enemy. The old warrior was
naturally fond of fighting; he saw also that to remain
inactive would endanger both crown and kingdom,
whereas a successful blow would secure his popularity
in Granada. He had a much more powerful
force than his nephew, having lately received reinforcements
from Baza, Guadix, and Almeria; he
could march with a large force, therefore, to the relief
of Velez Malaga, and yet leave a strong garrison
in the Alhambra. He took his measures accordingly,
and departed suddenly in the night, at the head of
one thousand horse and twenty thousand foot. He
took the most unfrequented roads, along the chain
of mountains extending from Granada to the height
of Bentomiz, and proceeded with such rapidity, as
to arrive there before king Ferdinand had notice of
his approach.
The christians were alarmed one evening by the
sudden blazing of great fires on the mountains about
the fortress of Bentomiz. By the ruddy light, they
beheld the flash of weapons and the array of troops,
and they heard the distant sound of Moorish drums
and trumpets. The fires of Bentomiz were answered
by fires on the towers of Velez Malaga. The shouts
of “El Zagal! El Zagal!” echoed along the cliffs,
and resounded from the city; and the christians
found that the old warrior king of Granada was on
the mountain above their camp.
The spirits of the Moors were suddenly raised to
a pitch of the greatest exultation, while the christians
were astonished to see this storm of war ready to
burst upon their heads. The count de Cabra, with
his accustomed eagerness when there was a king in
the field, would fain have scaled the heights, and
attacked El Zagal before he had time to form his
camp; but Ferdinand, who was more cool and wary,
restrained him. To attack the height, would be to
abandon the siege. He ordered every one, therefore,
to keep vigilant watch at his post, and to stand
ready to defend it to the utmost, but on no account
to sally forth and attack the enemy.
All night the signal-fires kept blazing along the
mountains, rousing and animating the whole country.
The morning sun rose over the lofty summit of Bentomiz
on a scene of martial splendor. As its rays
glanced down the mountain, they lighted up the
white tents of the christian cavaliers, cresting its
lower prominences, their pennons and ensigns fluttering
in the morning breeze. The sumptuous pavilions
of the king, with the holy standard of the
cross and the royal banners of Castile and Arragon,
dominated the encampment. Beyond lay the city,
its lofty castle and numerous towers glistening with
arms; while above all, and just on the profile of the
height, in the full blaze of the rising sun, were descried
the tents of the Moor, his turbaned troops
clustering about them, and his infidel banners floating
against the sky. Columns of smoke rose where
the night-fires had blazed, and the clash of the Moorish
cymbal, the bray of trumpet, and the neigh of
steed, were faintly heard from the airy heights. So
pure and transparent is the atmosphere in this region,
that every object can be distinctly seen at a great
distance; and the christians were able to behold the
formidable hosts of foes that were gathering on the
summits of the surrounding mountains.
One of the first measures of the Moorish king, was
to detach a large force, under Rodovan de Vanegas,
alcayde of Granada, to fall upon the convoy of ordnance,
which stretched, for a great distance, through
the mountain defiles. Ferdinand had anticipated
this attempt, and sent the commander of Leon, with
a body of horse and foot, to reinforce the Master
of Alcantara. El Zagal, from his mountain height,
beheld the detachment issue from the camp, and
immediately recalled Rodovan de Vanegas. The
armies now remained quiet for a time, the Moor
looking grimly down upon the christian camp, like a
tiger meditating a bound upon his prey. The christians
were in fearful jeopardy—a hostile city below
them, a powerful army above them, and on every
side mountains filled with implacable foes.
After El Zagal had maturely considered the situation
of the christian camp, and informed himself of
all the passes of the mountain, he conceived a plan
to surprise the enemy, which he flattered himself
would insure their ruin, and perhaps the capture of
king Ferdinand. He wrote a letter to the alcayde
of the city, commanding him, in the dead of the night,
on a signal-fire being made from the mountain, to
sally forth with all his troops, and fall furiously upon
the christian camp. The king would, at the same
time, rush down with his army from the mountain,
and assail it on the opposite side; thus overwhelming
it, at the hour of deep repose. This letter he
dispatched by a renegado christian, who knew all
the secret roads of the country, and, if taken, could
pass himself for a christian who had escaped from
captivity.
The fierce El Zagal, confident in his stratagem,
looked down upon the christians as his devoted victims.
As the sun went down, and the long shadows
of the mountains stretched across the vega, he pointed
with exultation to the camp below, apparently unconscious
of the impending danger. “Alla Acbar!”
exclaimed he, “God is great! Behold the unbelievers
are delivered into our hands; their king and choicest
chivalry will soon be at our mercy. Now is the
time to show the courage of men, and, by one glorious
victory, retrieve all that we have lost. Happy
he who falls fighting in the cause of the Prophet! he
will at once be transported to the paradise of the
faithful, and surrounded by immortal houris. Happy
he who shall survive victorious! he will behold
Granada,—an earthly paradise!—once more delivered
from its foes, and restored to all its glory.” The
words of El Zagal were received with acclamations
by his troops, who waited impatiently for the appointed
hour, to pour down from their mountain-hold
upon the christians.
