Tells how King Jayme won a victory over the Moors of Majorca; and gives
some account of the Moorish capital
The little bay of Santa Ponza was alive with boats from the ships,
pulling to the shore. The first to land was a young Catalan ensign
named Bernardo de Riudemeya, who waved his pennon as a sign for the
others to follow him. As a reward the King granted him the estate of
Santa Ponza in fee-simple. He was followed by 700 men and the chief
officers, including En Nuño, En Ramon de Moncada, En Bernardo de Santa
Eugenia de Torrella, Bernardo de Champans, the Master of the Temple,
and his knights, making about 150 horse. A reconnaissance by Ramon de
Moncada found an advanced guard of Moors about a mile away, which was
attacked and put to flight. When the King landed, he heard that this
encounter was proceeding, so he galloped off to the scene of action
with forty attendant knights. Seeing a body of 400 Moorish infantry on
a spur of the hills, he attacked them furiously, put them to flight,
and returned well pleased. He found his nobles in some alarm for his
safety, and he was seriously taken to task for running such risks when
so much depended on his life. Guillem de Moncada told him that he ought
to recollect that the lives of all of them depended upon his safety.
The rest of the cavalry had arrived in the rear squadron and had been
landed at Porrasa, where it was ascertained that the Moorish Amír with
a large army was at Porto Pi, a small harbour between Porrasa and the
capital of the island. This news was brought to the King at midnight,
and he called a council of war, when it was determined to give the
troops a good night’s rest before the expected battle. At dawn Jayme
and his nobles heard Mass, and a sermon was preached by the Bishop
of Barcelona. All prayed fervently, and were resolved upon victory.
The King and most of his friends had received the Sacrament before
starting, at Salou; but En Guillem de Moncada had delayed until this
moment, desiring to do so on the very eve of battle.
Then the Moncadas, Mataplana, and some other knights, with 5,000 men,
commenced a rapid advance against the enemy, apparently without
orders. The Count of Ampurias followed with his men. A desperate fight
was commenced, the Moors being in overwhelming numbers. Seeing the
danger, the King galloped forward with a single knight, named Rocafort,
in hopes of being in time to make the vanguard halt until the rest of
the army could come up. He sent back Rocafort, when he heard the clang
of arms; with an urgent message to En Nuño to bring up supports, as the
vanguard was surrounded. Jayme was in extreme anxiety. He was heard to
say to himself, ‘En Nuño delays much. The Holy Virgin preserve us!’ An
experienced veteran, En Nuño saw that all was in order before he led
the main body of the army into battle.
In about an hour En Nuño came to where the King was, who had galloped
forward without arming himself. Bertran de Naya, one of his servants,
brought the royal accoutrements, and Jayme put on his quilted coat,
his coat of mail, and iron cap in the field. He told the general that
the vanguard was engaged with the whole force of the enemy, and a
rapid advance was made to the scene of action. Here the King met a
knight named En Guillem de Mediona, who had great fame as a jouster
in tournaments. He was coming out of the battle. He said he had been
wounded by a stone on the lip. In a severe tone, King Jayme said that
it was not seemly to retire owing to so slight a hurt. Mediona blushed
with shame, turned his horse’s head and galloped into the thick of the
fight, where he found a soldier’s death.
The King had been delayed by the necessity of putting on his armour.
He then advanced up a hill which to this day is called ‘El Collado
del Rey,’ attended by only twelve soldiers. On reaching the summit he
found En Nuño marshalling his forces for the battle, and close at hand
the vast army of the Moors, with the Amír’s red-and-white banner, the
staff surmounted by a human head. The King, full of martial ardour,
wanted to charge at once, but was restrained by En Nuño. Both armies
joined battle, and, after a long contested engagement, the Moors broke
and fled. The rout was so complete that the Amír took refuge in the
mountains instead of returning to his capital. The Aragonese troops
were too tired to continue the pursuit, and soon very sad news was
brought respecting the fate of the vanguard.
The Bishop of Barcelona had to announce to the King that both En
Guillem de Moncada, Viscount of Bearne, and En Ramon Moncada were
slain, and that nearly all their men were cut to pieces before the main
body of the army arrived on the field. Hugo de Mataplana was also among
the slain. Young Jayme burst into tears at the loss of so many dear
friends and comrades. The whole army mourned with their King. But they
were now in sight of the beautiful city, the capture of which would
be the crown of their enterprise. The King was dead tired and nearly
famished, for he had eaten nothing all day. Going down a mountain
spur, in company with En Nuño, they came upon a tent pitched under the
pine-trees, amidst brushwood consisting of tree heaths, lentisco, and
wild lavender. There was the smell of a good dinner in preparation,
and here the tired warriors appeased their hunger, their host being En
Oliver de Termens, a gallant Frenchman of Roussillon. When the King
rose from an excellent meal he said, ‘Ben dinat,’ which in Catalan
means ‘well dined.’ The spot retains the name to this day. Long the
property of the Caro family, from which sprang that gallant Marquis
de la Romana who brought the Spanish troops from Denmark to join in
the War of Independence, the historical spot has been much changed in
recent times. A stately castle with towers at the angles, surrounded
by gardens and orange-groves, has taken the place of En Oliver’s tent
where the young King dined so well 680 years ago. It was built in
recent years by the Hungarian Marquesa de la Romana, who afterwards
sold it. The castle of Bendinat is now owned by the Marquis de la Torre.
The interment of the great lords who were slain in the vanguard
was conducted with all the pomp that was possible. A stone pillar
surmounted by an iron cross now marks the spot. On one side is the
date, September 12, 1229; on another the date of erection, 1884; and
on a third the arms of Barcelona impaling those of Moncada (_gules,
four bezants in pale_). It is on the left-hand side of the road, just
halfway between Palma and Andraix, under the shade of a fine old
pine-tree.
The scene of these military operations is exceedingly beautiful. The
spurs from the main chain of mountains by the western sea are well
covered with pine and ilex forests, and rise one behind the other. From
them spurs covered with olives and carob-trees and an undergrowth of
bright green crops and grass slope down to the sea. Some of the spurs
form a lower chain, called the Sierra de Burguesa, overlooking Porto
Pi and the capital.
The exposed bay of Palma, fifteen miles across, has the little harbour
of Porto Pi on the west side, and the city of Mallorca, afterwards
called Palma, in its centre. In Moorish times the city was an important
commercial port, with a great fleet of piratical galleys. It had a
strong wall and ditch, and eight gates. The bed of a mountain torrent
formed the moat on the west side. On the sea-face there were three
gates: one leading to the mole, called ‘the Gate of Chains’; another
to the west, called _Balbelet_, leading from the _Dar-as-Sanâá_ or
arsenal, corrupted by the Catalans into ‘_Atarazana_.’ In the east
of the sea-wall was the _Hicolbelet_. On the right of the Gate of
Chains, within the walls, stood the Moorish palace, which appears to
have been a small town in itself, called _El Medînah_, and by the
Spaniards to this day _Almudaina_. On the east side there was a gate
near the south-east angle, since closed up. Near the north-east angle
was the _Belalcofol_, called by the Spaniards ‘_Pintada_.’ On the north
side was the _Barbolet_, now the _Puerto de Jesus_. The Moors had two
gates on the side of the torrent, facing west, the _Belalbelet_, since
closed, and the gate of Porto Pi, now called _Catalina_. Altogether
there seem to have been eight gates in the Moorish walls. Besides the
_Almudaina_ there was a strong castle near the south-east angle of the
town, which was given to the Knights Templars, and near the centre
stood the chief mosque. Of other public buildings in Moorish times
there is no notice.
The city of the Moors, owing to its wealth and importance, must
have contained many fine and richly furnished houses; but such an
active energetic people as the Catalans very soon replaced them with
churches, convents, and houses in their own style, and there is but
one vestige left. Walking down a street at the back of the cathedral,
called ‘Serra,’ to the sea-face, the shrubs and flowers of a garden
show themselves over a high wall. A flight of steps leads to the
garden, and in one corner an archway opens on the ruins of a Moorish
bath, though nothing is left but the bare brickwork. There is a dome
supported by twelve pillars, with capitals apparently from the ruins of
a Roman temple, the pillars about eight feet high, and the conventional
leaf capitals not exactly fitting them. Round the dome there is a
vaulted passage, with recesses for piping. This is all that remains
to bear witness of the Moorish palaces and houses, with their wealth
of arabesque work and bright colouring, their marble pillars and
pavements, their cool gardens and fountains and luxurious baths. All is
now a dream of the long-buried past.