CHAPTER V.
Un farouche silence, enfant de la fureur, A ces bruyants eclats succede avec horreur. D'un bras determine, d'un oeil brulant de rage, Parmi ses ennemis chacun s'ouvre un passage.
_La Henriade._
Now yield thee, or by him who made The world! thy heart-blood dyes my blade.-- Thy threats, thy mercy I despise, Let recreant yield, who fears to die.--
_Sir Walter Scott._
The shadows of evening were falling round when Alonso de Aguilar and hisgallant army arrived at the plain that skirts the mountain of the SierraBermeja. The rebels, with El Feri de Benastepar at their head, who hadalready been worsted in the plain, had resolved not to hazard anotherbattle, but to keep possession of the mountains, confident of theadvantages of their position. El Feri, therefore, having secured all theheights and passes of the Sierra, beheld with inward satisfaction theapproach of the enemy; indeed, his situation could not be improved;nature had fashioned an impregnable fortress in the whole circumferenceof that huge mountain; large masses of rock frowned at intervals aroundthe summit and extended down the sides, and the hollows were filled upwith large clumps of trees, the growth of ages. There was only one pathby which an ascent appeared practicable, narrow, steep and tortuous, andthis perilous pass from the nature of its position might be defended bya handful of brave men; numerous small ravines were likewise observable,by which a laborious and difficult ascent might be attempted, althoughthey were almost choaked with different impediments, being the beds ofthe torrents which at times poured their headlong course down the sidesof the mountain.
The Christians beheld with dread the formidable array which the Sierrapresented. The Moors from the adjacent country had flocked to thestandard of El Feri, confiding in the prosperous turn which theirenterprise was likely to take; they manifested both their hopes anddefiance by a prolonged succession of shouts and barbaric yells, which,in lengthened and fearful clamour, were reverberated through the rockypasses and solitary caverns of those mountains.
Alonso de Aguilar was struck with the advantages which the rebelsderived from their position, and the attempt to ascend the mountain,crowned as it was with desperate men, might be considered more a deed ofmadness than an act of true courage; but again he thought of the evilwhich procrastinated measures often produce in a war of this nature--thelonger he delayed the attack the greater the number of enemies he shouldhave to encounter, and if the spark of revolt were not immediatelyextinguished, the whole province would soon blaze out in open rebellion.Most alarming symptoms of the refractory spirit of the inhabitants hadalready been manifested during the progress of the army from Granada,and Aguilar well knew that the difficulties he had now to surmount,would increase tenfold each day that he suffered to pass without riskinga battle.
Thus, although aware of the desperate character of his undertaking, henevertheless resolved to engage the Moors in defiance of their superioradvantages, relying with the most unlimited confidence on theenthusiastic valour of his veteran troops, whose hatred to the Moors wasproverbial, and whose bravery and military conduct he had tried on manya well-fought field.
Under this impression, Don Alonso had summoned Count Urena, and otherprincipal chiefs, to communicate to them his determination.
"Perhaps you will think," he said, "that the resolution I have formed isdesperate, but there is no middle course to choose; we must eitherreturn inglorious to our homes, or attack the rebels in their stronghold. An assault must be immediately attempted. Our soldiers burn withimpatience to meet those rebellious and ungrateful Moors. It is on theconfidence of their love to their country, and hatred to their foes,that I found my expectations. However, we will wait until night hasclosed; darkness will be more favorable to us in the passive warfarewhich for some time we shall be obliged to carry on. The shafts of ourenemies cannot thus be aimed with such fatal certainty. And now, mybrave companions, to your posts, and I hope that when next we meet itwill be amidst the shouts of victory."
Aguilar divided his army into three parts, the right wing of which heentrusted to the command of Count de Urena, the left to Don de AntonioLeyva, whilst he, with his gallant son Don Pedro, determined to lead onthe centre to the charge by the more direct ascent, where the chiefforce of the Moors was judiciously placed.
These three bodies were again sub-divided, as a large mass would afforda conspicuous object against which the efforts of the enemy might bemore successfully directed. Thus the different commanders havingreceived their instructions, and the signal being given, variouscolumns advanced towards the mountains from their several points ofattack, whilst the war-cry, _Santiago y Cierra Espana_, was echoed fromone to another with inspiring courage and animated enthusiasm. The Moorsanswered the challenge with wild acclamations, looking on the advancingfoe as a devoted prey on which they were shortly to glut theirlong-desired vengeance. The Christians were, therefore, suffered toproceed unmolested in their course lest, by a premature disclosure ofthe resources of their enemies, they might be induced to retreat, andthus prevent the Moors from obtaining a complete victory. Slowly, then,the Christians began to ascend the rugged and difficult paths of themountain. The deafening shouts had for some time ceased, and weresucceeded by a dismal and deadly silence. The Christians, therefore,continued to ascend in noiseless progression, until El Feri deBenastepar, judging that the enemy was sufficiently drawn into his toilsto ensure success for the artful manoeuvres which he had planned, nowgave the signal of command, and again the whole mountain rung with anoverpowering tumult of cries and yells.
Suddenly the rocks above seemed to be alive, broken into numberlessfragments. With dreadful and overwhelming violence their huge disjointedmasses rolled from their elevated summits, and gathering a new impetusin their headlong course, rushed down the sides of the mountain, andbounding from point to point with an appalling crash, heaped destructionon the advancing enemy. The ominous and redoubled cries from the summitof the Sierra, rose above the terrific sound of the deadly fragments,and were sufficient to strike dismay into the most daring. Astonishmentfor a moment paralyzed the Spaniards; yet their intrepidity did notquail in the hazardous moment, though they perceived a heap of mangledcorpses swept before them with fearful rapidity. Aguilar could notbehold unmoved the destruction wrought amongst his brave followers; andfearing that a second discharge of those terrible missiles mightsucceed in disheartening them, in a voice of enthusiasm----
"Forward, my brave comrades!" he cried: "those rebels will find thatthey will sooner tire of hurling rocks than we shall of withstandingthem. By suffering we will triumph. On, brave companions, on!"
Aguilar succeeded by his example in instilling into the hearts of hismen a degree of maddened courage, which alone could carry them throughthe obstacles that impeded their course. They accordingly continuedfearlessly to advance.
Night had now closed in the most dense and impenetrable darkness. Themoon seemed unsuccessfully struggling through a pile of massy clouds,and the scanty light afforded by the dim stars was insufficient toillumine any distant object. Thus the Christians had no means of wardingoff the dreadful fate which threatened them. They heard, without thepower of resistance, the low rumbling sound of the huge rocks that wereloosened from their beds, and the crash that followed their ponderouscourse, as they tore down every object which came before them, minglingall in one vast and promiscuous ruin.
The voice of Aguilar and other chiefs, in hoarse tones, was heard atintervals encouraging and animating their troops, who, wrought up tomadness by their loss, had now no other feeling than an ardent desire ofattaining the summit, where their enemies lay in security, and quenchingtheir rage in their detested blood. Indeed, the terrors of this dismaland appalling conflict, instead of damping the courage of the soldiers,served only to brace them with redoubled force. Dauntless, therefore,they continued to ascend, unmindful of the cries and groans that rentthe air, and although they were sensible that a similar fate
might thenext moment await themselves. On they proceeded, in the full confidencethat some amongst them would ultimately reach the summit, and take amplevengeance for the death of those whom they left behind. Nor did theMoors consider this stubborn constancy and self-devotion withoutamazement and dread; but El Feri, who read their thoughts, immediatelytook measures to prevent the consequences with which they might beattended, if he allowed his men to indulge their fears; aware that thebest means of keeping up the mettle and ardour of his men was to employthem actively, he ordered a considerable portion of them to descend andmeet the enemy boldly in the path. This order was joyfully obeyed, andthe Moors rushed impetuously to the attack. Aguilar, who hailed thismovement of the enemy as favorable to his troops, by affording them anopportunity of profiting by their superiority, now rushed forward toencounter the charge with increased energy, whilst Don Pedro, with achosen party, led the van.
The young warrior continued gaining ground; the Moors retreated; and theSpaniards considering this movement as the forerunner of success, boldlypushed on, reckless of the thousand shafts which assailed them on everyside. Fresh men supplied, according to instruction, the place of theMoors who retreated; and the wearied Christians had nothing to carrythem through the unequal contest but the undaunted courage which hadsupported them in so many battles. Still they advanced, although theenemy, in spite of the numbers that fell, preserved a fresh and unbrokenfront, disputing every inch of ground apparently with undiminishednumbers.
In the midst of his gallant achievements Don Pedro fell from the blow ofa stone, which disabled him from proceeding. His absence soon becameapparent; but Alonso de Aguilar pressing forwards to the front, by adesperate effort soon compelled the rebels to abandon their defence, andretreat precipitately to their stations. The Spaniards here halted for afew moments and rallied their forces, on which dismal inroads had beenmade by the late conflict. Again they advanced in silence and withoutimpediment. Their gallant leader, however, looked on this change withthe most gloomy apprehensions; for he conjectured that the Moors wereabout to renew that system of defence which had been so destructive atthe first onset. His suspicions were well grounded. Incontinentlyanother ominous shout rent the air, and the tremendous fragments againrolled down, spreading devastation wherever they passed.
And now, to render the unequal strife more terrific, there fell somebroad and scattered drops of rain, announcing the storm which had beengathering in the dark bosom of the swollen and shapeless clouds. Hollowgusts of wind swept through the passes of the mountains, mingling theirgloomy cadences with the loud cries of the Moors and the wildlamentations of their victims. And now the pregnant clouds dischargedtheir contents, which poured like an impetuous cataract down thechannels of the mountain, whilst from those dark and impenetrable massesfitfully glimmered the livid streaks of lightning, followed by thehollow muttering of the distant thunder. This approaching conflict ofthe elements Don Alonso beheld undismayed. Boldly he urged on his men,whilst the power of the storm increasing apace, presented additionalobstacles to their progress. Nearer the tempest advanced, and theflickering sudden gleams of lightning were succeeded by closely repeatedsheets of sulphurous and liquid fire, which in serpentine corruscationsillumined those scenes of carnage and devastation, while loud andprolonged peals sounded like the ominous voice of the spirit ofdestruction riding on the storm, and exulting over the scene of death.But the Spaniards, though moved by the sight of their companions fallingaround, could not be subdued by the gloomy prospect before them, for itis the attribute of noble courage, while it sympathises with the brave,to continue in the path of honor and duty undaunted and undismayed.
Flash now followed upon flash, and by their livid and unearthlyreflection appeared the gallant leader and his band, more resolute inproportion to the fury of the warring elements. The caves and wildrecesses echoed with the hollow moaning of the blast, mingled with theshouts of the combatants. Chilling was the scene; more chilling stillwhen the pause made by the raging storm was filled up with the moreterrific noise of the falling rocks and stones which came thunderingdown. Aghast the Christians beheld, by the vivid flashes, the descendingdestruction; now a block rolled along dyed in the blood of their gallantcompanions, and again some uncouth and unfashioned fragment had gatheredin its career a broken limb, a nerveless arm, or a bleeding leg. Thechannels were now filled with the water that rushed down the sides ofthe mountain, forming gurgling eddies around the crushed bodies of thefallen, and mingling their blood with the turbid waters in their descentbelow.
Such an accumulation of misfortunes began to dishearten the Christians,whose forces were reduced to half their number. Don Pedro, Count deUrena, and other principal chiefs were wounded, others dead; and anhorrific shout on the left, commanded by Don Antonio de Leyva, announcedsome dreadful catastrophe in that direction.
The renegade, with a valiant reinforcement, had by a dexterousmanoeuvre cut off the retreat of the Christians in that quarter; and,though they had fought with the most desperate courage, they werecompletely routed, and the greater number slaughtered on the spot.Savagely Bermudo dealt his blows on his own countrymen, and vented hisdiabolical feelings on many brave and innocent men to take vengeance forthe wrongs he had sustained from one. But few men escaped from thispromiscuous carnage, and those few cut their way with frenzied couragethrough the ranks of the enemy, bearing the bleeding body of theirchief, Don Antonio de Leyva.
The rage of the storm had by this time abated, and Alonso de Aguilar,auguring favorably of men who had withstood, undaunted, such anaccumulation of terrors, had pushed forward, and was now midway on themountain. The rebels beheld his progress with conscious alarm, forthough his numbers were considerably reduced and weakened by fatigue,yet Don Alonso was about to reach a space of even ground, in whichshould he succeed, it would render more doubtful the victory which theyhad till now considered as certain. Still they continued to roll downtheir destructive missiles, but these had lost their former power; forthough some visited the enemy, yet the greater part stopt in theircareer, impeded by the trunks of trees torn up by the tempest, or stuckin the spots of marshy ground caused by the descending torrents. TheMoors, therefore, abandoned this system of aggression, and perceivingthat the gallant band of Don Alonso de Aguilar was extremely small, andthat it could not receive assistance from the Spanish forces below, theycollected a great body, and determined to oppose the further progress ofAguilar, before he could succeed in reaching the little plain. Adesperate contest ensued, in which every Christian exerted his remainingstrength, and their present position was so far favorable, that theMoors were not able to overwhelm them with numbers. Thus Aguilar,encouraging his men with the better aspect of their fortune, continuedfighting desperately, and gaining ground, whilst the affrighted Moorsretreated before his amazing efforts.
But the most exalted courage cannot support the body under theaccumulated sufferings of wounds and exhaustion, and Don Alonso atlength beheld with a look of melancholy resignation, blended with manlyfortitude, the diminution of his numbers, and the state of depressionunder which they laboured. He could no longer hope to accomplish hisdaring enterprise, nor effect an honorable retreat. The day, which hadnow shed its first glimmering light, revealed the forlorn condition ofhis men: he beheld his once gallant army stretched along the path, whichwas so completely covered with the dead, that it seemed to be paved withhuman victims. The Spaniards fought still, but their foes werecontinually supplied with fresh men, and Aguilar foresaw with a pang ofdistress that the Moors would ultimately triumph. In this emergency hecast a desponding look on his troops below, who would in vain haveattempted to assist him, on account of the distance which separatedthem.
The followers of Don Alonso were now reduced to a very limited number,but he perceived on their countenances the noble expression of resignedcourage and high-minded patriotism. A sad smile of satisfaction was onhis lip, as with a firm voice, he exclaimed:--
"Christians, this standard must be planted on the highest point we canattain.
" Then after a pause he added, pointing to the little plain;"Behold your grave!---- advance boldly--there is the last stage of ourexistence--and if any one returns to Granada, he may tell the queen thatAlonso de Aguilar has redeemed his pledge."
These words were electric--the countenances of his companionsbrightened, and they seemed to acquire new vigour from the example oftheir noble leader. They dealt their blows with increased energy, andafter a terrific struggle, they at length reached the fatal plain.There they halted at the goal of their glorious career, and Alonso deAguilar planting the standard of the cross firmly on the ground, placedhimself near a rock which he caused to be surrounded by his men. Therethe devoted warriors resolved to await their fate.
The Moors now rushed on them from all parts with a ferocious joy. Butmany were those who fell before they could succeed in mastering thebrave and infuriated Christians. Man to man they fought, and round therock the gallant soldiers gradually fell. The heroism of the Spaniardsmight protract, but could not avert their fall. Aguilar at length beheldhimself alone amongst a heap of his fallen men; his armour was broken inmany places, and stained with the life-blood which flowed through thecrevices; with his left hand he grasped the remains of a banner, andsupported himself against the rock, while his right still continued towield his ponderous sword. The numerous assailants looked with dreadand awe on the redoubtable champion, and for some time seemed to berivetted to the place. But a host was gathering around to rush at onceupon the formidable foe, when a giant figure made his way through thecrowd, crying aloud--
"Yield thee, Christian, for the Moors know how to respect courage likethine."
"Yield! Never will I yield to a rebel. I am Alonso de Aguilar."
"Thanks to the prophet!" cried the Moor; "look then on thyirreconcileable foe!--I am El Feri de Benastepar."
Aguilar saw the Moor-chief with the fortitude of a noble heart, andrising superior to his adverse fortune, although covered with wounds,and fainting from exhaustion, he sprung forward to meet the advance ofhis terrible adversary, whilst the Moors awed by the meeting of suchwarriors, stood around in breathless silence.
The mighty foes closed in desperate combat. But soon Aguilar consciousof his weakness, retired to his original position against the rock, andin that posture sustained the attack. The fresh and unabated force ofEl Feri became too powerful for the Christian chief, worn out as he waswith the loss of blood, and the fatigue of many hours of battle. Aguilarnow perceived that to die nobly was the only alternative he couldembrace, and accordingly grasping firmly the banner, he continued aresolute but unequal combat. His exhaustion, however, increased, and ashe perceived his end approach, he sprang forward, and with one desperateblow, in which he collected his remaining energies, endeavoured to crushhis enemy. But the exertion far exceeded his strength, and the same blowthat an hour before would have cloven through buckler and hauberk, nowfell almost harmless upon the shield of El Feri. The Moor availedhimself of the moment, and before Aguilar had time to recover, thescymitar of his foe had cleft through the helmet of Don Alonso, and sunkdeep into the brain. The hero fell; with one deep sigh his noble spiritparted from its clay, and the brave, the generous, the heroic Don Alonsode Aguilar was no more![45]
A tremendous shout from the exulting Moors announced the catastrophe tothe Christians below: it sounded through the mountain like the ferociousyell of demons revelling over their victim. El Feri stood silent for amoment gazing on his prostrate enemy, and he could not but contemplatewith veneration and awe that form which even in death preserved thenobleness and dignity which had distinguished it through life. Hishelmet had given way, and rolled to some distance on the plain. Hisblack hair silvered with age, and now dripping with his blood,overshaded part of his noble countenance. Shorn of its proud device, hisbroken shield lay on his left arm, as well as the remains of the bannerwhich he had sworn to defend with his life, whilst his right arm stillretained that sword once the terror of the Moors, now lying harmless onthe ground. Thus fell Aguilar, and the exulting Moors flocked round hiscorpse, led by an instinctive curiosity to behold the prostrate warriorso long the object of their dread.