The Alhambra 53

The Alhambra 53

The grand master listened to the hermit as to a messenger from heaven,

and followed his counsel in all things. By his advice he dispatched two

of his stoutest warriors, armed _cap-à-pie_, on an embassy to the

Moorish king. They entered the gates of Granada without molestation, as

the nations were at peace; and made their way to the Alhambra, where

they were promptly admitted to the king, who received them in the Hall

of Ambassadors. They delivered their message roundly and hardly. “We

come, O King, from Don Martin Tañez de Barbudo, grand master of

Alcántara; who affirms the faith of Jesus Christ to be true and holy,

and that of Mahomet false and detestable, and he challenges thee to

maintain the contrary, hand to hand, in single combat. Shouldst thou

refuse, he offers to combat with one hundred cavaliers against two

hundred; or, in like proportion, to the number of one thousand, always

allowing thy faith a double number of champions. Remember, O King, that

thou canst not refuse this challenge; since thy prophet, knowing the

impossibility of maintaining his doctrines by argument, has commanded

his followers to enforce them with the sword.”

 

The beard of King Yusef trembled with indignation. “The master of

Alcántara,” said he, “is a madman to send such a message, and ye are

saucy knaves to bring it.”

 

So saying, he ordered the ambassadors to be thrown into a dungeon, by

way of giving them a lesson in diplomacy; and they were roughly treated

on their way thither by the populace, who were exasperated at this

insult to their sovereign and their faith.

 

The grand master of Alcántara could scarcely credit the tidings of the

maltreatment of his messengers; but the hermit rejoiced when they were

repeated to him. “God,” said he, “has blinded this infidel king for his

downfall. Since he has sent no reply to thy defiance, consider it

accepted. Marshal thy forces, therefore; march forward to Granada; pause

not until thou seest the gate of Elvira. A miracle will be wrought in

thy favor. There will be a great battle; the enemy will be overthrown;

but not one of thy soldiers will be slain.”

 

The grand master called upon every warrior zealous in the Christian

cause to aid him in this crusade. In a little while three hundred

horsemen and a thousand foot-soldiers rallied under his standard. The

horsemen were veterans, seasoned to battle and well-armed; but the

infantry were raw and undisciplined. The victory, however, was to be

miraculous; the grand master was a man of surpassing faith, and knew

that the weaker the means the greater the miracle. He sallied forth

confidently, therefore, with his little army, and the hermit strode

ahead, bearing a cross on the end of a long pole, and beneath it the

pennon of the order of Alcántara.

 

As they approached the city of Cordova they were overtaken by

messengers, spurring in all haste, bearing missives from the Castilian

monarch, forbidding the enterprise. The grand master was a man of a

single mind and a single will; in other words, a man of one idea. “Were

I on any other errand,” said he, “I should obey these letters as coming

from my lord the king; but I am sent by a higher power than the king. In

compliance with its commands I have advanced the cross thus far against

the infidels; and it would be treason to the standard of Christ to turn

back without achieving my errand.”

 

So the trumpets were sounded; the cross was again reared aloft, and the

band of zealots resumed their march. As they passed through the streets

of Cordova the people were amazed at beholding a hermit bearing a cross

at the head of a warlike multitude; but when they learnt that a

miraculous victory was to be effected and Granada destroyed, laborers

and artisans threw by the implements of their handicrafts and joined in

the crusade; while a mercenary rabble followed on with a view of

plunder.

 

A number of cavaliers of rank who lacked faith in the promised miracle,

and dreaded the consequences of this unprovoked irruption into the

country of the Moor, assembled at the bridge of the Guadalquivir and

endeavored to dissuade the grand master from crossing. He was deaf to

prayers, expostulations, or menaces; his followers were enraged at this

opposition to the cause of the faith; they put an end to the parley by

their clamors; the cross was again reared and borne triumphantly across

the bridge.

 

The multitude increased as it proceeded; by the time the grand master

had reached Alcala la Real, which stands on a mountain overlooking the

Vega of Granada, upwards of five thousand men on foot had joined his

standard.

 

At Alcala came forth Alonzo Fernandez de Cordova, Lord of Aguilar, his

brother Diego Fernandez, Marshal of Castile, and other cavaliers of

valor and experience. Placing themselves in the way of the grand master,

“What madness is this, Don Martin?” said they; “the Moorish king has two

hundred thousand foot-soldiers and five thousand horse within his walls;

what can you and your handful of cavaliers and your noisy rabble do

against such force? Bethink you of the disasters which have befallen

other Christian commanders, who have crossed these rocky borders with

ten times your force. Think, too, of the mischief that will be brought

upon this kingdom by an outrage of the kind committed by a man of your

rank and importance, a grand master of Alcántara. Pause, we entreat you,

while the truce is yet unbroken. Await within the borders the reply of

the king of Granada to your challenge. If he agree to meet you singly,

or with champions two or three, it will be your individual contest, and

fight it out in God’s name; if he refuse, you may return home with great

honor and the disgrace will fall upon the Moors.”

 

Several cavaliers, who had hitherto followed the grand master with

devoted zeal, were moved by these expostulations, and suggested to him

the policy of listening to this advice.

 

“Cavaliers,” said he, addressing himself to Alonzo Fernandez de Cordova

and his companions, “I thank you for the counsel you have so kindly

bestowed upon me, and if I were merely in pursuit of individual glory I

might be swayed by it. But I am engaged to achieve a great triumph of

the faith, which God is to effect by miracle through my means. As to

you, cavaliers,” turning to those of his followers who had wavered, “if

your hearts fail you, or you repent of having put your hands to this

good work, return, in God’s name, and my blessing go with you. For

myself, though I have none to stand by me but this holy hermit, yet will

I assuredly proceed; until I have planted this sacred standard on the

walls of Granada, or perished in the attempt.”

 

“Don Martin Yañez de Barbudo,” replied the cavaliers, “we are not men to

turn our backs upon our commander, however rash his enterprise. We spoke

but in caution. Lead on, therefore, and if it be to the death, be

assured to the death we will follow thee.”

 

By this time the common soldiers became impatient. “Forward! forward!”

shouted they. “Forward in the cause of faith.” So the grand master gave

signal, the hermit again reared the cross aloft, and they poured down a

defile of the mountain, with solemn chants of triumph.

 

That night they encamped at the river of Azores, and the next morning,

which was Sunday, crossed the borders. Their first pause was at an

atalaya or solitary tower, built upon a rock; a frontier post to keep a

watch upon the border, and give notice of invasion. It was thence called

el Torre del Exea (the tower of the spy). The grand master halted before

it and summoned its petty garrison to surrender. He was answered by a

shower of stones and arrows, which wounded him in the hand and killed

three of his men.

 

“How is this, father?” said he to the hermit; “you assured me that not

one of my followers would be slain!”

 

“True, my son; but I meant in the great battle of the infidel king; what

need is there of miracle to aid in the capture of a petty tower?”

 

The grand master was satisfied. He ordered wood to be piled against the

door of the tower to burn it down. In the mean time provisions were

unloaded from the sumpter-mules, and the crusaders, withdrawing beyond

bow-shot, sat down on the grass to a repast to strengthen them for the

arduous day’s work before them. While thus engaged, they were startled

by the sudden appearance of a great Moorish host. The atalayas had given

the alarm by fire and smoke from the mountain-tops of “an enemy across

the border,” and the king of Granada had sallied forth with a great

force to the encounter.

 

The crusaders, nearly taken by surprise, flew to arms and prepared for

battle. The grand master ordered his three hundred horsemen to dismount

and fight on foot in support of the infantry. The Moors, however,

charged so suddenly that they separated the cavaliers from the

foot-soldiers and prevented their uniting. The grand master gave the old

war-cry, “Santiago! Santiago! and close Spain!” He and his knights

breasted the fury of the battle, but were surrounded by a countless host

and assailed with arrows, stones, darts, and arquebuses. Still they

fought fearlessly, and made prodigious slaughter. The hermit mingled in

the hottest of the fight. In one hand he bore the cross, in the other

he brandished a sword, with which he dealt about him like a maniac,

slaying several of the enemy, until he sank to the ground covered with

wounds. The grand master saw him fall, and saw too late the fallacy of

his prophecies. Despair, however, only made him fight the more fiercely,

until he also fell overpowered by numbers. His devoted cavaliers

emulated his holy zeal. Not one turned his back nor asked for mercy; all

fought until they fell. As to the foot-soldiers, many were killed, many

taken prisoners; the residue escaped to Alcala la Real. When the Moors

came to strip the slain, the wounds of the cavaliers were all found to

be in front.

 

Such was the catastrophe of this fanatic enterprise. The Moors vaunted

it as a decisive proof of the superior sanctity of their faith, and

extolled their king to the skies when he returned in triumph to Granada.

 

As it was satisfactorily shown that this crusade was the enterprise of

an individual, and contrary to the express orders of the king of

Castile, the peace of the two kingdoms was not interrupted. Nay, the

Moors evinced a feeling of respect for the valor of the unfortunate

grand master, and readily gave up his body to Don Alonzo Fernandez de

Cordova, who came from Alcala to seek it. The Christians of the frontier

united in paying the last sad honors to his memory. His body was placed

upon a bier, covered with the pennon of the order of Alcántara; and the

broken cross, the emblem of his confident hopes and fatal

disappointment, was borne before it. In this way his remains were

carried back in funeral procession, through the mountain tract which he

had traversed so resolutely. Wherever it passed, through a town or

village, the populace followed, with tears and lamentations, bewailing

him as a valiant knight and a martyr to the faith. His body was interred