CHAPTER VIII.
Crece el tumulto, y el espanto crece: Y todos le abandonan--uno solo Fiel se presenta, y con valor perece.
_Anon._
Don Manuel de Monteblanco has already been described as a man weigheddown by years and the iron pressure of infirmities and sorrows. Thedisappearance of his daughter, in whom all his thoughts, all theaffections of his heart were solely centred, tended to fill the measureof his misery and reduce him to that gloomy state of despondency withwhich his lost energies and increasing age in vain attempted tostruggle. Totally unsuccessful in his endeavours to discover the retreatof Theodora, time at length reconciled him to his state of desolation,but it was the resignation of despair; that feeling which makes manacquiesce with gloomy calmness in the decrees of fate, and look withtranquillity on the approach of death as the happy termination of hissufferings.
Don Manuel had sent despatches, and made diligent inquiries to recoverhis daughter, but in vain. Martha, the old duenna, from whom he mighthave obtained a knowledge of the truth, had successfully baffled hispursuit, the sanctimonious hag having embarked at Barcelona, for Italy.The vessel was wrecked, and it was supposed she perished, as noinformation of her could be afterwards obtained. Don Lope Gomez Ariashad all the time kept up a correspondence with the deluded and ill-fatedfather, who, far from harbouring the least suspicion against thebetrayer of his daughter, considered him as one in whose advice andservices he could implicitly confide. Thus in proportion as theintelligence from Gomez Arias grew more cold and less frequent, thehopes of the old cavalier decreased, until he was at last reduced to astate bordering upon distraction. He lay prostrate on the couch ofsickness; it was presaged he was doomed never more to rise. Slowly deathwas stealing over him, and all his friends and dependants bitterlydeplored the causes which contributed to render so miserable the lastdays of the good old cavalier. Indeed, it appeared as if the angel ofdeath hovered round his fated mansion, and awed all its inmates into amelancholy tranquillity. At this time the sudden and unexpectedappearance of Theodora worked a powerful revolution in the feelings ofthe family, whilst the frame of Don Manuel, instead of sinking under theweight of the impression which it produced, seemed to revive. His latentfeelings were roused from their gloomy torpor, the slumbering energieswere called into action by the powerful excitement of new ideas, and themind rendered buoyant in proportion as new projects called for theexertion of its faculties. The unparalleled effrontery and cruelty ofGomez Arias formed the source from which the drooping frame ofMonteblanco gathered life. His wrongs, instead of accelerating theprogress of death, seemed instantly to check its strides, while thedesire of revenge so powerfully operated on his mind, that it warmed thetorpid energies of decaying mortality.
Three days had scarcely elapsed since the arrival of Theodora, when DonManuel already considered himself equal to the exertion of a journey toGranada. The distance was short, and his feelings would not allow him alonger delay; for he conceived every dilatory suggestion to be asdetrimental to the success of his design. The renegade, instead ofchecking Monteblanco's views, contributed to encourage them by hisinstigations.
Early, therefore, on the fourth day, every thing was prepared for theirdeparture. Theodora habited herself in robes of deep mourning, anddeparted from Guadix with her father and her former companions inflight. The presence of Roque was indispensable, and Marien Rufa wentwith the pious intention of being reconciled as soon as possible to thechurch, by the Archbishop of Granada.
Whilst our travellers are journeying towards that city, let me entreatyou, kind or unkind reader, to suffer them to go in peace, and accompanyme in another direction. We must now revert to the Moors, whom we leftin high excitement at Alhaurin, though the rage of Caneri at the flightof his captive had considerably damped the joy produced by theirvictory.
The disappointed Moor roamed about like a discontented mastiff, growlingand casting around his revengeful glances; whilst his dependants, awedby his ferocity, cared not to encounter the ebullition of his wrath, buttimidly skulked away: strange phenomenon of human nature! Amongst thoseMoors there was not one who did not inwardly despise the petty despot;not one that was not endowed with a greater share of personal courage,and yet they all trembled before the man they contemned, and shrankfrom an object invested with no other terrors than those which they hadvoluntarily conferred upon it. Where lies the spell of a tyrant thatenables him _alone_, hated and contemned, to tyrannize over his fellowcreatures! However, the Moors had now a respite from their fears, forthe approach of the Christians compelled Caneri to forsake thegratification of his petty malice, and direct his thoughts to the publicdanger. The town of Alhaurin, which he commanded, was well garrisoned,and had a plentiful store of provisions; and yet the mind of the chiefsadly misgave him. Every moment straggling Moors arrived, who depicted,in the most lively colours, the terrible appearance of the Christians.These reports, and the names of the gallant chiefs who headed the enemy,failed not to depress the hearts of those who a week before had lookedupon their triumph as certain, imagining that the lustre of their glorywas beyond the possibility of a blemish.
In the mean time Mohabed, contrary to the advice of El Feri, haddescended the Sierra Bermeja with the Moors under his command. El Ferihad expostulated with his brother chief, but could not persuade him topostpone an attempt which, planned with haste, and executed withrashness, could only be attended with disaster. The Moors, thoughpossessed of courage, were unskilled in the discipline of war, andbetter calculated, therefore, to harrass the Spaniards by detachedbodies, in petty skirmishes, than to oppose them in the open field.Mohabed was callous to all remonstrances; and this want of unity in thechiefs, proved a mortal blow to the Moorish cause. El Feri saw withgrief his companions descending that mountain which, to them, hadafforded a strong hold, and a secure home, to risk, by an act ofimprudence, the advantages which they had already gained.
Mohabed boldly directed his course towards Granada, in which directionGomez Arias was said to be advancing. The enemies shortly came in sight;but no sooner did they come within hearing, than the Moors sent forth awild shout of exultation, which was answered by the war-cry of theChristians, who were burning to revenge the defeat of their countrymenin the Sierra Bermeja.
Gomez Arias beheld the advance of the enemy with transports of joy. Hehailed an opportunity of avenging the death of Aguilar, and ofacquiring, by a brilliant act, fresh laurels to sanction his ambitiousand enterprizing schemes. Besides the many deceitful stratagems to whichhe had resorted on account of Theodora, his unsatisfactory conduct onthe day of his intended wedding, and a degree of mystery that remainedover that affair, had combined to throw a shade over his character whichhe was anxious to remove by the _eclat_ of a military exploit. The hopeof victory, the desire of retrieving the late disgrace of theChristians, and the sweet whispers of ambition, produced a state of wildexcitation he could scarcely restrain. His soldiers were equallyimpatient to signalize themselves, and every one awaited the moment ofaction in a ferment of expectation.
Gomez Arias made choice of an advantageous position near _Rio Gordo_,and there resolved to receive the attack of the enemy. Meantime Mohabed,as if to forward the wishes of the Spaniards, hurried on withoutconsidering the fatigue and exhaustion to which his men were reduced bya forced march. The Christians, in their turn, beheld the approach ofthe rebels, as an approaching holocaust to the spirits of those who fellin the Sierra Bermeja with the gallant Aguilar. Don Lope commanded hismen to sustain the first attack without moving, and then, takingadvantage of the confusion excited by a repulse, suddenly to chargetheir enemies with the united advantages of discipline and courage. Hiswishes succeeded to their utmost extent. The Moors rushed on to thecharge in a blind and disorderly manner, totally heedless of theconsequences of their want of organization. The Spaniards suffered theattack with the greatest coolness and intrepidity; when their fierycourage, acquiring additional stimulus from having been compressed, nowspurred them on, and
, with their entire force, they fell on theconfused and crowded masses of the enemy with an overwhelming shock.
A dreadful carnage ensued. Terror had succeeded the first ebullition ofcourage, and the Moors perceived their own rout and confusion only whenit was too late. Mohabed exerted all his powers to rally hispanic-stricken followers, but it was in vain. Disorder and dismay everywhere prevailed, and the Christians obtained a victory as easy as it wascomplete. The greater part of the Moors were slain in the field; a fewonly escaped to carry the disheartening tale to their companions. Therest, with their chief, Mohabed, fell into the hands of the enemy.
The news of this disaster caused the wildest consternation amongst therebels at Alhaurin and the Sierra Bermeja. El Feri de Benastepar,grieved but not surprised at the unfortunate results of Mohabed'srashness, was active in repairing the loss, but his numbers being somuch reduced, he was now more fully confirmed in his design of confiningtheir warfare against the Christians to the Sierra Bermeja. With thevigour of a superior character, he did not feel dejected by thisoverthrow, as he had not been wildly elated by his previous success. Notso with Caneri: the total rout of Mohabed, described in the darkestcolours by those who had succeeded in effecting their escape, began toawaken apprehensions for his own safety. His fear was considerablyaggravated by the arrival of the Alcayde de los Donceles, who, by forcedmarches, had suddenly made his appearance before Alhaurin, to which heimmediately laid siege. The disorder and discontent of the Moors hourlyincreased, and the absence of the renegade was severely felt.
At this moment the Alcayde de los Donceles sent a herald to summon therebels to surrender, promising a full pardon should they be willing tolay down their arms and deliver up their chiefs. But in case theyneglected to adopt in time this conciliatory measure, it was threatenedthat they should all be put to the sword, and the town reduced toashes. Discontent and insubordination now prevailed amongst the rebels.The sense of their danger--the formidable array of the enemy--and aboveall, the unpopularity of their chief, Caneri, conspired to render agreat portion of the troops willing to accede to the proposals of theAlcayde.
Soon a numerous and powerful cabal was formed, and the malcontents,deciding that their cause was desperate, agreed to surrender. In a largebody they proceeded to the palace, and insolently demanded that thegates of the town should be opened to the Christians. Caneri, and someof his adherents, aware that they were made an exception to the amnesty,were naturally anxious to defend the city, as the only means of avertingtheir fate.
Caneri, no longer an unruly despot, now crouched to the danger like anabject slave, and in a piteous tone began to expostulate with themutineers. It was a striking contrast to see the man, who lately was theterror of all, converted into so gentle an animal as to astonish eventhe Moors when they contemplated the cowardly being who had held themso long in dread. They were not moved by his entreaties; for thesupplications of a despot, instead of awakening sympathy, serve only toaugment the rage of mankind, by placing in a more striking light hispusillanimity and unworthiness, and the shame of having suffered sodespicable a thing to tyrannize over and oppress them.
The uproar and insubordination increased as the term allowed by theAlcayde to effect a surrender was drawing near. All obedience was nowdisregarded, and a party of the most turbulent resolved to put theirchief to death, and, by this means, propitiate the favor of theirenemies. Accordingly, with wild exclamations and terrific yells, theysurrounded the mansion of Caneri, and insolently summoned the few Moorswho still adhered to him to give up the despot, or that they wouldimmediately commit the palace to the flames. Caneri, pale, haggard, andtrembling, stood like a convicted culprit in the scene of his formerbrief authority, bewildered with fear, and without knowing what courseto pursue. To escape was utterly impossible, the palace being surroundedby the infuriate Moors, and the town beleaguered by the Spaniards. Inthis emergency he cast an imploring look on his followers, and saw withdespair the limited number of his adherents. In vain he attempted toharangue the infuriated throng from the window; he was driven back by ashower of stones and other missiles. In this suspense and agony heremained some time, during which he had the mortification to behold hisfew remaining friends gradually deserting his side in proportion as thedanger became more imminent. All was tumult and anarchy, and the crieswhich proceeded from without, predicted to Caneri's ears his approachingand terrible fate. To the curses heaped on his devoted and abhorredperson, succeeded the appalling threats and the wild savage laugh ofexultation over his near downfall. Those who were formerly the mostabject of his slaves, were now more particularly conspicuous inmanifesting their revengeful disposition.
The outward gates had now given way to the ponderous hammers with aterrible crash, and the frenzied mutineers rushing impetuously in,traversed the hall and gallery without opposition, and directed theircourse to the apartment of the chief.
The wretched Caneri, alike unable to meet his death like a man, byopposing his rebellious soldiers, or to prevent by his own hand theignominy which threatened him, awaited in stupor the crisis of thebursting storm. Aghast he rolled his starting eyes, glazed with agonizedterror; and he saw himself deserted in that dreadful moment by all hisdependants. All had forsaken him--all but one man; he alone, in spite ofthe fate which inevitably awaited his adherence to the fallen chief,still remained faithful to his side: it was Malique. There is aninstinctive fidelity, existing sometimes in the most unrefined andbarbarous minds, honorable to human nature,--the uncouth Malique was ofthis stamp; he had received no favors from his master when inprosperity, yet he now scorned to abandon him in adversity.
Caneri looked at him, and in spite of his forlorn and periloussituation, could not but be moved at the sight of the faithful Malique.The noble minded Moor stood by his side, his scymitar drawn, andevincing on his countenance no signs of terror or dismay. Caneri, frailas was the protection that could be derived from a single man, stillfondly clung to hope with the sordidness of a cowardly mind.
"My faithful Malique," he cried in a tone of agony; "Is there no hope?"
"None," replied Malique, sadly, but resolutely: "none, but to die likebrave Moors; draw your weapon, noble Caneri, and perish as becomes yourrace." The trembling chief answered with a groan, for the mutinoussoldiers had succeeded in bursting the door of the apartment, and nowwith a dreadful clamour poured in, eager to strike the first blow attheir wretched and defenceless chief. Their very impatience retarded theaccomplishment of their fell desire, for as they thronged the narrowpassages, some were thrown down, the impatience of the one impeding theprogress of the other.
His suspense between life and death was protracted by the confusion; andthe miserable Caneri suffered the additional torture of hearing for sometime the appalling heralds of his fate, before the blow was struck. Thedoor burst open, and the savage eyes of his enemies glared upon theirvictim, and the glitter of their weapons struck fearfully on hissickening sight. He stood gazing with the petrified look of despair;Malique boldly advanced and placed himself before his master, with theresolute courage of one who has determined upon his part.
"Malique," cried the foremost of the conspirators, who happened to beone whom Caneri had favored; "Sheath thy weapon; we seek not for thylife." Malique made no reply, but with a single blow he levelled thetraitor with the ground; he then sprung fearlessly amongst therebellious crowd, and after having laid prostrate two or three of themost infuriated, he was himself struck down, and met his death with thecourage of a soldier, and the coolness of a man, who dies in thedischarge of his duty.
Grown desperate by the very impulse of terror, and moved by the sight ofMalique bleeding at his feet, Caneri assumed a courage arising fromdesperation, and as the mutineers closed round him, he dealt severalblows with a stubborn resistance that might have done him honour in thefield. He was, however, soon overpowered, and fell covered withinnumerable wounds. His head was immediately severed from the body, andbeing affixed to a long pole, the disorderly and motley crowd nowproceeded to the camp
of the Spaniards, bearing before them the bleedingand ghastly token of their surrender.
The whole town now became the scene of indiscriminate riot; men andwomen, old and young, ran about in a tumult of hope and fear, whilst thediscordant shouts of the soldiery, and the appalling sight of theprocession, bearing the ensanguined trophy, greatly contributed toincrease the confusion.
El Alcayde de los Donceles having taken the necessary precautions toinsure the safety of his men, in case of treason, now entered the townof Alhaurin amidst the acclamations of his late foes; the chiefs of therebels had already been secured, and the disorderly multitude takingadvantage of the proffered pardon, soon evacuated the place, anddispersed in every direction.
Meantime the Alcayde, having left a garrison in the town to prevent anyfurther trouble, proceeded towards the Sierra Bermeja, the last and onlyrefuge of the Moors; for the little villages where the fire of seditionyet burned, were too insignificant to engross his attention. TheChristians therefore continued their march towards the dreadful spot,where the spirit of the noble Aguilar seemed to hover, in expectation ofredress, and where the terrible El Feri, the most valiant of the Moors,still kept his ground.