HOW KING FERDINAND HELD A COUNCIL OF WAR AT THE ROCK OF THE LOVERS.
The royal army on its march against Loxa lay encamped one pleasant
evening in May in a meadow on the banks of the river Yeguas, around the
foot of a lofty cliff called the Rock of the Lovers. The quarters
of each nobleman formed as it were a separate little encampment, his
stately pavilion, surmounted by his fluttering pennon, rising above the
surrounding tents of his vassals and retainers. A little apart from the
others, as it were in proud reserve, was the encampment of the English
earl. It was sumptuous in its furniture and complete in all its
munitions. Archers and soldiers armed with battle-axes kept guard around
it, while above the standard of England rolled out its ample folds and
flapped in the evening breeze.
The mingled sounds of various tongues and nations were heard from the
soldiery as they watered their horses in the stream or busied themselves
round the fires which began to glow here and there in the twilight--the
gay chanson of the Frenchman, singing of his amours on the pleasant
banks of the Loire or the sunny regions of the Garonne; the broad
guttural tones of the German, chanting some doughty “krieger lied” or
extolling the vintage of the Rhine; the wild romance of the Spaniard,
reciting the achievements of the Cid and many a famous passage of the
Moorish wars; and the long and melancholy ditty of the Englishman,
treating of some feudal hero or redoubtable outlaw of his distant
island.
On a rising ground, commanding a view of the whole encampment, stood the
ample and magnificent pavilion of the king, with the banner of Castile
and Aragon and the holy standard of the cross erected before it. In this
tent there assembled the principal commanders of the army, having been
summoned by Ferdinand to a council of war on receiving tidings that
Boabdil had thrown himself into Loxa with a considerable reinforcement.
After some consultation it was determined to invest Loxa on both sides:
one part of the army should seize upon the dangerous but commanding
height of Santo Albohacen in front of the city, while the remainder,
making a circuit, should encamp on the opposite side.
No sooner was this resolved upon than the marques of Cadiz stood forth
and claimed the post of danger in behalf of himself and those cavaliers,
his companions-in-arms, who had been compelled to relinquish it by the
general retreat of the army on the former siege. The enemy had exulted
over them as if driven from it in disgrace. To regain that perilous
height, to pitch their tents upon it, and to avenge the blood of their
valiant compeer, the master of Calatrava, who had fallen upon it, was
due to their fame: the marques demanded, therefore, that they might lead
the advance and secure that height, engaging to hold the enemy employed
until the main army should take its position on the opposite side of the
city.
King Ferdinand readily granted his permission, upon which the count
de Cabra entreated to be admitted to a share of the enterprise. He had
always been accustomed to serve in the advance, and now that Boabdil was
in the field and a king was to be taken, he could not content himself
with remaining in the rear. Ferdinand yielded his consent, for he was
disposed to give the good count every opportunity to retrieve his late
disaster.
The English earl, when he heard there was an enterprise of danger in
question, was hot to be admitted to the party, but the king restrained
his ardor. “These cavaliers,” said he, “conceive that they have an
account to settle with their pride; let them have the enterprise to
themselves, my lord: if you follow these Moorish wars long, you will
find no lack of perilous service.”
The marques of Cadiz and his companions-in-arms struck their tents
before daybreak; they were five thousand horse and twelve thousand foot,
and marched rapidly along the defiles of the mountains, the cavaliers
being anxious to strike the blow and get possession of the height of
Albohacen before the king with the main army should arrive to their
assistance.
The city of Loxa stands on a high hill between two mountains on the
banks of the Xenil. To attain the height of Albohacen the troops had
to pass over a tract of rugged and broken country and a deep valley
intersected by those canals and watercourses with which the Moors
irrigated their lands: they were extremely embarrassed in this part of
their march, and in imminent risk of being cut up in detail before they
could reach the height.
The count de Cabra, with his usual eagerness, endeavored to push across
this valley in defiance of every obstacle: he, in consequence, soon
became entangled with his cavalry among the canals, but his impatience
would not permit him to retrace his steps and choose a more practicable
but circuitous route. Others slowly crossed another part of the valley
by the aid of pontoons, while the marques of Cadiz, Don Alonso de
Aguilar, and the count de Urena, being more experienced in the ground
from their former campaign, made a circuit round the bottom of the
height, and, winding up it, began to display their squadrons and elevate
their banners on the redoubtable post which in their former siege they
had been compelled so reluctantly to abandon.