It was some time after this conference, before the army from the
Peninsula were all arrived and disembarked at Ceuta. Santa Cruz had
made himself master of every information respecting the condition of
the enemy; and found that a large reinforcement of troops was daily
expected from the interior provinces. He wished to bring Ripperda to
a general battle, before this accession of cavalry should give the
Moors so great an advantage; for his own columns were very slenderly
supported by horse.
The whole strength of the Ceuta army did not amount to more than
twenty-five thousand men; but they were fresh and in spirits; while the
forces under the Basha, were not merely reduced to almost as scanty a
number, but they were in despair at the contempt their leader shewed to
the laws of their prophet. Ten thousand Arabs had lately arrived, to
strengthen the division under Sidi Ali; and were disposed on the side
of the mountain, to cover the camp. Some other general was to bring
up the hordes from the interior; who were coming forward with savage
eagerness, to assist their brethren in driving the Spaniards into the
sea.
Santa Cruz did not disturb the progress of Louis de Montemar's
recovery, with any communication of these designs; but proceeded
without any apparent extraordinary motion in the garrison, to draw out
his troops and prepare for the general attack. His position was fully
taken one morning before it was light; and falling in the darkness upon
the advanced posts of the Moors, the infidels in the trenches were cut
off to a man before a gun was fired.
Martini was the first who brought his master intelligence of this
assault; for the Moors had conceived so sullen a horror of their
leader, that uncertain what to do, many of them would rather have
suffered a total surprise of their camp; than saved themselves by
yielding to the impious Aben Humeya an opportunity of establishing
his power with the Emperor. But a few minutes shewed the irresistible
ascendancy of boldness and decision, over pusillanimity and wavering.
When Ripperda knew the peril of his camp; and issued from his tent
in full military array, the awfulness of his heroic countenance, and
the splendor of his arms, eclipsed all remembrance of his tyranny in
some; and others dreading the resentment of so formidable a man, threw
themselves forward to receive his commands.
He ordered the gates of the camp to be thrown open before his horse;
and he and his battalions, soon occupied the space between the
entrenchments, and the rapid advance of the Spaniards; who were now
nearly within the range of his first line of batteries.
The cannon began their summons of death. The rays of the morning,
and the flashing of guns traversed each other in the passing shadows
and rolling smoke of the contest. During deep night, Santa Cruz had
detached a body of infantry with a few field-pieces, to file off to the
left; and by forming in a pass at the bottom of the hill, between Ali's
camp and the Basha's, cut off the former from coming to the support of
his colleague.
Before Aben Humeya marched out into the field, he dispatched two
messengers; the one to Sidi Ali with his commands, that he should come
forward and attack the Spaniards in flank; and the other to Adelmelek,
who was bringing up the columns from the interior, to hasten onward,
and confirm the anticipated victory.
His orders being issued, the Basha bore down upon the charging enemy
with a shock as terrific as his own; and with so decisive a weight of
cavalry, that the Spaniards gave ground. While the Moors pursued this
advantage, a report reached their leader that Ali was intercepted in
the hills. With the quickness of lightning, he detached a resolute body
of troops to cut off, in their turn, the division of Spaniards which
had been sent on this dangerous enterprize.
The eyes of Santa Cruz were not less alert in viewing the manoeuvres
of his enemy; and at the very moment he was looking around to see whom
he could entrust with the important commission of opposing this force,
to his astonishment he beheld Louis de Montemar at his side. He had
heard the roll of cannon, and required no other summons. He was now
mounted, and in arms, as if in perfect vigour, from his hardly closed
wounds. Without asking a question, the Marquis ordered him to take the
command of a certain body of cavalry; and lead them towards the hill,
to the attack of the detachment dispatched from the Moorish camp.
Louis obeyed; and performed his commission so completely, that the
Moors were obliged to fall back, and shelter their flying squadrons
behind the nearest batteries. But part of the troops which had
previously been sent to watch the motions of Sidi Ali, seeing the way
clear, joined the chase; and so left a passage for the enemy. Profiting
by the oversight, Ali rushed from his lines; and taking the pursuing
Christians in the rear, the shouts of the Moors, reanimated their
fugitive brethren in front, who turned like a host of tigers at bay;
and all at once Louis found himself between two fires.
But it was not the object of Sidi Ali to waste his time in the
extirpation of a part, when the whole was near, to yield a mightier
revenge to the conqueror. He advanced with rapidity and good order,
to the support of the Basha; whose left flank, where he had thrown
himself in person, was already turned by the furious onset of the
Spaniards. Seeing the approaching squadrons of Ali, Aben Humeya rallied
his receding men; and precipitating himself and a chosen cohort upon
the most effective engine of the enemy, (which was one of the Moorish
batteries turned upon themselves,) he retook it, and discharged it on
its late masters. The fresh troops of Ali came on with shouts like
thunder; and the Christians, who expected nothing less than this new
attack, supported the charge only for a while. Aben Humeya brought up
a kind of flying battery of his own construction; and his adversaries
being thrown into confusion by its incessant fire, turned to fly. The
Basha left the fugitives to Ali, and moved to the centre, which was now
hardly pressed by Santa Cruz himself.
Until now, the Spanish leader had not exposed his own person; but when
he found that part of his army assuming the same retrograde motion
with the left wing, he saw the necessity of shewing his own personal
courage, and fighting man to man.
Here was the shock and the tug of the day. Aben Humeya and Santa Cruz,
were alike seen in every part of the field, as if their bodies, as well
as their minds, had the property of omnipresence. Blood streamed on
every side; and the terrific screams of the wounded horses, mingling
with the groans of the dying; and the yells or shouts of the victors;
the braying of the trumpets, the rolling of the drums; and the roaring
of the guns, shook the earth, and seemed to tear the heavens. The
echoes were tremendous from the caves and summits of the overhanging
mountains; and to the crazed imagination of fear, the Genius of Spain
and of Barbary appeared to hang in the clouds of battle, and to clash
their dreadful arms, in horror of the equal fight.
But in the moment of loudest acclaim in the centre, while the helmeted
turban of the Basha shone resplendent in anticipated victory, and
his watchmen looked from his towers in the camp, for the approach of
Adelmelek, a howl of dismay issued from the left; and the thronging
squadrons of half Ali's division spiked themselves upon the points of
the Spanish line.
Louis had no sooner seen that the Sidi had passed, and driven this
wing of the Spaniards from their ground, than recalling his own
squadrons, and marching behind the rolling smoke to the right, he came
in van of their flying comrades; and making a hasty _chevaux de frize_
of his pikes, he permitted the fugitives to pass through and form
behind, while the enemy's horse found their fate on his iron rampart.
Field-pieces were rapidly brought forward to confirm this stand; and
the leader of the Arabs falling by the first explosion, the Moors
turned and fled towards their lines.
The centre and the right flank deserved the confidence of their leader;
but the star of Ripperda was now on its last horizon. The Moors fought
with desperation for empire,--for paradise! He performed prodigies of
valour! The fabled exploits of romance were no longer marvellous to
them who beheld Aben Humeya; but the Spanish numbers and discipline
overpowered it all.
Louis saw that, on that field, his father's power in Africa, and
perhaps himself, would on that day perish. Through the flashes of
musquetry and of cannon shot, he saw that father moving in every
direction, with the consummate generalship of a practised soldier,
with a determined resolution that merited a better cause. Louis was
desperate and devoted as himself; and though actuated by different
principles, and exposing their lives on adverse sides, they seemed
actuated by the same spirit, to conquer or to die.
The Moorish entrenchments were forced in every point, the ditch filled
with the slain, the camp set on fire that no delay might be made for
plunder; and the infidels who survived, flying in every direction,
without a leader, and without a refuge.
The slaughter was as tremendous as the discomfiture was signal and
conclusive.
At the entrance of the mountainous track between the base of Abyla and
the hills of Tetuan, the pursuing army was encountered by an ambuscade
from Adelmelek's division. The envious Moor had disobeyed Aben Humeya's
orders to join him in the field. He waited apart for the defeat of the
Basha; but to ensure his own favour with the Emperor, he planted a
powerful detachment to cover the retreat of any who might escape the
horrors of the day. While the Spaniards were briskly engaged with this
ambuscade, the fugitives retreated safely into the mountains; and the
army of Adelmelek drawing behind some batteries he had prepared, Santa
Cruz's orders to abandon the dangerous pursuit were at last obeyed; and
the infuriate conquerors, drunk with blood and vengeance, returned in
broken ranks to the rescued town of Ceuta.
Louis, who had accompanied the general chase, with no other sense but a
breathless eagerness to know the fate of his father, galloped over the
death-strewn earth with his eyes wandering all around, while his sword
waved without aim over his unhelmeted head. The plumed crescent of Aben
Humeya was no more to be seen. Even his standards had long disappeared
from the field; and with the returning squadrons, the horse of De
Montemar also quitted the pursuit.
The officers of cavalry alighted at the pavilion of Santa Cruz, where
all of distinction in the army were assembled to congratulate the
general on his victory. Louis entered mechanically with the rest. He
was pale as a spectre; and the blood on his garments bore witness that
he had not left his chamber that morning on a vain errand. His presence
of mind had saved the day at its first commencement; and his undaunted
arm had twice turned the Moorish scymetars from the head of his
general. On his entrance, therefore, his brave compeers parted before
him; and the oldest veterans present did not think themselves degraded
in bowing their heads before the youthful hero.
When the eyes of Santa Cruz met his advancing figure, the bleeding
image of Ripperda rose upon his recollection. He had seen him borne
lifeless from the burning camp.
"He was his father!" cried the Marquis to himself, as he looked on the
brave and devoted son; and stepping forward, he pressed him silently
in his arms. Louis felt the pulse of the pitying heart that beat
against his; but he was not then susceptible of comfort from any human
commiseration; and, with an unaltered aspect, he raised himself from
the Marquis's breast, and passed unmoved through the less delicate
crowd, who pressed on him with compliments on his exertions of the
day. He heard nothing but the buzzing of many voices; and bowing
without observation as they approached or retreated from him, left the
pavilion; and as unnotingly proceeded to the city.
The nature of Ferdinand's wounds not allowing him to share in the
service of the day, hourly messengers from the field duly communicated
the progress of the victory. The contest was at last over; and
the Marchioness and her daughter threw themselves in speechless
thanksgiving upon the ground, before the Almighty Preserver of Santa
Cruz. They had known all the agonies of being within hearing of a field
of battle. The distant uproar of death; the thundering of the guns;
the red and billowy clouds which, at every explosion, a strong east
wind drove in darkening volumes over the fortress, were portentous
accompaniments to the terrifying successions of the wounded, which
every hour brought within its walls. The horrid suspense of that day
often came over Marcella in future years, with a recollection so
present of mental torture, that catching the hand dearest to her in the
world, and trembling with dismay at what might have been the issue, she
has wept over it tears of ceaseless gratitude. But in the dreadful hour
of conflict, those tender expressions of anxiety were driven back upon
their source; and, while thinking on no other object than the life of
her father and his friend, her hands, with her mother's, assisted in
binding up fractured limbs, and staunching blood, welling from many a
brave heart.
The trumpet of recall from the victorious chase, sounded near the
walls. The Marchioness rose from her knees; and though unable to move
herself, from strong emotion, she dispatched Ferdinand and Marcella to
meet their father. He supported his sister's agitated steps, while he
sustained his own by the aid of his crutches. They were hastening along
the main gallery of the castle, when Louis de Montemar entered from the
field.
Aware of what must be his feelings on the defeat and fall of his
father, Ferdinand instantly quitted his sister's side, and retreated
from the melancholy greeting. Marcella was not less informed by her
own heart, of what must then be tearing their friend's; but she did
not fly, neither did she move towards him. She stood still, with her
eyes rivetted on him in speechless occupation of soul. He had not seen
Ferdinand: he did not see her though he passed her close. Marcella saw
something dreadful in the fixture of his mien. Could such piety as his
be stricken with despair? She sunk on her knees at the terrible image;
and a sound, between a groan and a cry of supplication to heaven, burst
from her lips, as, with clasped hands, she looked upon his disappearing
steps.
That was a sound which had its chord in Louis's breast. He turned
round. Marcella did not cover her face; for a brighter principle than
terrestrial love actuated her soul for the noble sufferer before
her. She knelt and looked on him. Louis approached her. He stood for
a moment gazing on her. In the next, the whole agony of his mind
agitated his before marbled features. As she started on her feet he
took her hand, and firmly grasping it, said, "Oh, pray for me!" and
then dropping it, again turned away, and passed out of sight along the
gallery.