RESULT OF THE STRATAGEM OF EL ZAGAL TO SURPRISE KING FERDINAND.
Queen Isabella and her court had remained at Cordova in great anxiety
for the result of the royal expedition. Every day brought tidings of
the difficulties which attended the transportation of the ordnance and
munitions and of the critical state of the army.
While in this state of anxious suspense couriers arrived with all speed
from the frontiers, bringing tidings of the sudden sally of El Zagal
from Granada to surprise the camp. All Cordova was in consternation. The
destruction of the Andalusian chivalry among the mountains of this very
neighborhood was called to mind; it was feared that similar ruin was
about to burst forth from rocks and precipices upon Ferdinand and his
army.
Queen Isabella shared in the public alarm, but it served to rouse all
the energies of her heroic mind. Instead of uttering idle apprehensions,
she sought only how to avert the danger. She called upon all the men of
Andalusia under the age of seventy to arm and hasten to the relief of
their sovereign, and she prepared to set out with the first levies.
The grand cardinal of Spain, old Pedro Gonzalez de Mendoza, in whom the
piety of the saint and the wisdom of the counsellor were mingled with
the fire of the cavalier, offered high pay to all horsemen who would
follow him to aid their king and the Christian cause, and, buckling on
armor, prepared to lead them to the scene of danger.
The summons of the queen roused the quick Andalusian spirit. Warriors
who had long since given up fighting and had sent their sons to battle
now seized the sword and lance rusting on the wall, and marshalled forth
their gray-headed domestics and their grandchildren for the field. The
great dread was, that all aid would arrive too late; El Zagal and his
host had passed like a storm through the mountains, and it was feared
the tempest had already burst upon the Christian camp.
In the mean time, the night had closed which had been appointed by El
Zagal for the execution of his plan. He had watched the last light of
day expire, and all the Spanish camp remained tranquil. As the hours
wore away the camp-fires were gradually extinguished. No drum nor
trumpet sounded from below. Nothing was heard but now and then the dull
heavy tread of troops or the echoing tramp of horses--the usual patrols
of the camp--and the changes of the guards. El Zagal restrained his own
impatience and that of his troops until the night should be advanced
and the camp sunk in that heavy sleep from which men are with difficulty
awakened, and when awakened prone to be bewildered and dismayed.
At length the appointed hour arrived. By order of the Moorish king a
bright flame sprang up from the height of Bentomiz, but El Zagal looked
in vain for the responding light from the city. His impatience would
brook no longer delay; he ordered the advance of the army to descend the
mountain-defile and attack the camp. The defile was narrow and overhung
by rocks; as the troops proceeded they came suddenly, in a shadowy
hollow, upon a dark mass of warriors who, with a loud shout, rushed to
assail them. Surprised and disconcerted, they retreated in confusion to
the height. When El Zagal heard of a Christian force in the defile, he
doubted some counter-plan of the enemy, and gave orders to light the
mountain-fires. On a signal given bright flames sprang up on every
height from pyres of wood prepared for the purpose: cliff blazed out
after cliff until the whole atmosphere was in a glow of furnace light.
The ruddy glare lit up the glens and passes, and fell strongly upon
the Christian camp, revealing all its tents and every post and bulwark.
Wherever El Zagal turned his eyes he beheld the light of his fires
flashed back from cuirass and helm and sparkling lance; he beheld a
grove of spears planted in every pass, every assailable point bristling
with arms, and squadrons of horse and foot in battle array awaiting his
attack.
In fact, his letter to the alcayde of Velez Malaga had been intercepted
by the vigilant Ferdinand, the renegado messenger hanged, and secret
measures taken after nightfall to give the Moors a warm reception. El
Zagal saw that his plan of surprise was discovered and foiled; furious
with disappointment, he ordered his troops forward to the attack.
They rushed down the defile, but were again encountered by the mass of
Christian warriors, being the advance guard of the army commanded by Don
Hurtado de Mendoza, brother of the grand cardinal. The Moors were again
repulsed, and retreated up the height. Don Hurtado would have followed
them, but the ascent was steep and rugged and easily defended. A
sharp action was kept up through the night with crossbows, darts, and
arquebuses. The cliffs echoed with deafening uproar, while the fires
blazing upon the mountains threw a lurid and uncertain light upon the
scene.
When the day dawned and the Moors saw that there was no co-operation
from the city, they slackened in their ardor: they beheld also every
pass of the mountain filled with Christian troops, and began to
apprehend an assault in return. Just then King Ferdinand sent the
marques of Cadiz with horse and foot to seize upon a height occupied by
a battalion of the enemy. The marques assailed the Moors with his usual
intrepidity, and soon put them to flight. The others, who were above,
seeing their comrades fly, threw down their arms and retreated. One of
those unaccountable panics which now and then seize upon great bodies
of people, and to which the light-spirited Moors were prone, now spread
throughout the camp. They were terrified, they knew not why nor at what,
and, throwing away swords, lances, breast-plates, crossbows, everything
that could impede their motions, scattered themselves wildly in every
direction. They fled without pursuers--from the glimpse of each other’s
arms, from the sound of each other’s footsteps. Reduan de Vanegas, the
brave alcayde of Granada, alone succeeded in collecting a body of
the fugitives; he made a circuit with them through the passes of the
mountain, and, forcing his way across a weak part of the Christian
lines, galloped toward Velez Malaga. The rest of the Moorish host was
completely scattered. In vain did El Zagal and his knights attempt to
rally them; they were left almost alone, and had to consult their own
security by flight.
The marques of Cadiz, finding no opposition, ascended from height
to height, cautiously reconnoitring and fearful of some stratagem or
ambush. All, however, was quiet. He reached with his men the place which
the Moorish army had occupied: the heights were abandoned and strewed
with cuirasses, scimetars, crossbows, and other weapons. His force was
too small to pursue the enemy, but returned to the royal camp laden with
spoils.
Ferdinand at first could not credit so signal and miraculous a defeat,
but suspected some lurking stratagem. He ordered, therefore, that a
strict watch should be maintained throughout the camp and every one be
ready for instant action. The following night a thousand cavaliers and
hidalgos kept guard about the royal tent, as they had done for several
preceding nights; nor did the king relax this vigilance until he
received certain intelligence that the enemy was completely scattered
and El Zagal flying in confusion.
The tidings of this rout and of the safety of the Christian army arrived
at Cordova just as reinforcements were on the point of setting out. The
anxiety and alarm of the queen and the public were turned to transports
of joy and gratitude. The forces were disbanded, solemn processions were
made, and “Te Deums” chanted in the churches for so signal a victory.