Pelistes The Defender Of Cordova
No sooner had Tarik defeated the Christian army on the fatal field of
Sidonia than he sent out detachments of horsemen in all directions, hoping
to win the leading cities of Spain before the people should recover from
their terror. One of these detachments, composed of seven hundred horse,
was sent against Cordova, an ancient city which was to become the capital
of Moslem Spain. This force was led by a brave soldier named Magued, a
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Roman or Greek by birth, who had been taken prisoner when a child and
reared in the Arab faith. He now ranked next to Tarik in the arts and
stratagems of war, and as a horseman and warrior was the model and
admiration of his followers.
Among the Christian leaders who had fled from the field of the Guadalete
was an old and valiant Gothic noble, Pelistes by name, who had fought in
the battle front until his son sank in death and most of his followers had
fallen around him. Then, with the small band left him, he rode in all
haste to Cordova, which he hoped to hold as a stronghold of the Goths. But
he found himself almost alone in the town, most of whose inhabitants had
fled with their valuables, so that, including the invalids and old
soldiers found there, he had but four hundred men with whom to defend the
city.
A river ran south of the city and formed one of its defences. To its banks
came Magued,--led, say some of the chronicles, by the traitor, Count
Julian,--and encamped in a forest of pines. He sent heralds to the town,
demanding its surrender, and threatening its defenders with death if they
resisted. But Pelistes defied him to do his worst.
What Magued might have found difficult to do by force he accomplished by
stratagem. A shepherd whom he had captured told him of the weakness of the
garrison, and acquainted him with a method by which the city might be
entered. Forcing the rustic to act as guide, Magued crossed the river on a
stormy night, swimming the stream with his horses, each cavalier having a
footman mounted behind him. By the time they reached the opposite shore
the rain had changed to hail, whose loud pattering drowned the noise of
the horses' hoofs as the assailants rode to a weak place in the wall of
which the shepherd had told them. Here the battlements were broken and
part of the wall had fallen, and near by grew a fig-tree whose branches
stretched towards the breach. Up this climbed a nimble soldier, and by
hard effort reached the broken wall. He had taken with him Magued's
turban, whose long folds of linen were unfolded and let down as a rope, by
whose aid others soon climbed to the summit. The storm had caused the
sentries to leave their posts, and this part of the wall was left
unguarded.
In a short time a considerable number of the assailants had gained the top
of the wall. Leaping from the parapet, they entered the city and ran to
the nearest gate, which they flung open to Magued and his force. The city
was theirs; the alarm was taken too late, and all who resisted were cut
down. By day-dawn Cordova was lost to Spain with the exception of the
church of St. George, a large and strong edifice, in which Pelistes had
taken refuge with the remnant of his men. Here he found an ample supply of
food and obtained water from some secret source, so that he was enabled to
hold out against the enemy.
For three long months the brave garrison defied its foes, though Magued
made every effort to take the church. How they obtained water was what
most puzzled him, but he finally discovered the secret through the aid of
a negro whom the Christians had captured and who escaped from their hands.
The prisoner had learned during his captivity that the church communicated
by an underground channel with a spring somewhere without. This was sought
for with diligence and at length found, whereupon the water supply of the
garrison was cut off at its source, and a new summons to surrender was
made.
There are two stories of what afterwards took place. One is that the
garrison refused to surrender, and that Magued, deeply exasperated,
ordered the church to be set on fire, most of its defenders perishing in
the flames. The other story is a far more romantic one, and perhaps as
likely to be true. This tells us that Pelistes, weary of long waiting for
assistance from without, determined to leave the church in search of aid,
promising, in case of failure, to return and die with his friends.
Mounted on the good steed that he had kept alive in the church, and armed
with lance, sword, and shield, the valiant warrior set forth before the
dawn, and rode through the silent streets, unseen by sentinel or early
wayfarer. The vision of a Christian knight on horseback was not likely to
attract much attention, as there were many renegade Christians with the
Moors, brought thither in the train of Count Julian. Therefore, when the
armed warrior presented himself at a gate of the city just as a foraging
party was entering, he rode forth unnoticed in the confusion and galloped
briskly away towards the neighboring mountains.
Having reached there he stopped to rest, but to his alarm he noticed a
horseman in hot pursuit upon his trail. Spurring his steed onward,
Pelistes now made his way into the rough intricacies of the mountain
paths; but, unluckily, as he was passing along the edge of a declivity,
his horse stumbled and rolled down into the ravine below, so bruising and
cutting him in the fall that, when he struggled to his feet, his face was
covered with blood.
While he was in this condition the pursuer rode up. It proved to be Magued
himself, who had seen him leave the city and had followed in haste. To his
sharp summons for surrender the good knight responded by drawing his
sword, and, wounded and bleeding as he was, put himself in posture for
defence.
The fight that followed was as fierce as some of those told of King
Arthur's knights. Long and sturdily the two champions fought, foot to
foot, sword to scimitar, until their shields and armor were rent and
hacked and the ground was red with their blood. Never had those hills seen
so furious a fight by so well-matched champions, and during their
breathing spells the two knights gazed upon each other with wonder and
admiration. Magued had never met so able an antagonist before, nor
Pelistes encountered so skilfully wielded a blade.
But the Gothic warrior had been hurt by his fall. This gave Magued the
advantage, and he sought to take his noble adversary alive. Finally, weak
from loss of blood, the gallant Goth gave a last blow and fell prostrate.
In a moment Magued's point was at his throat, and he was bidden to ask for
his life or die. No answer came. Unlacing the helmet of the fallen knight,
Magued found him insensible. As he debated with himself how he would get
the captive of his sword to the city, a group of Moorish cavaliers rode up
and gazed with astonishment on the marks of the terrible fight. The
Christian knight was placed by them on a spare horse and carried to
Cordova's streets.
As the train passed the beleaguered church its garrison, seeing their late
leader a captive in Moorish hands, sallied fiercely out to his rescue, and
for some minutes the street rang sharply with the sounds of war. But
numbers gathered to the defence, the assailants were driven back, and the
church was entered by their foes, the clash of arms resounding within its
sacred precincts. In the end most of the garrison were killed and the rest
made prisoners.
The wounded knight was tenderly cared for by his captor, soon regaining
his senses, and in time recovering his health. Magued, who had come to
esteem him highly, celebrated his return to health by a magnificent
banquet, at which every honor was done the noble knight. The Arabs knew
well how to reward valor, even in a foe.
In the midst of the banquet Pelistes spoke of a noble Christian knight he
once had known, his brother in arms and the cherished friend of his heart,
one whom he had most admired and loved of all the Gothic host,--his old and
dear comrade, Count Julian.
"He is here!" cried some of the Arabs, enthusiastically, pointing to a
knight who had recently entered. "Here is your old friend and comrade,
Count Julian."
"That Julian!" cried Pelistes, in tones of scorn; "that traitor and
renegade my friend and comrade! No, no; this is not Julian, but a fiend
from hell who has entered his body to bring him dishonor and ruin."
Turning scornfully away he strode proudly from the room, leaving the
traitor knight, overwhelmed with shame and confusion, the centre of a
circle of scornful looks, for the Arabs loved not the traitor, however
they might have profited by his treason.
The fate of Pelistes, as given in the Arab chronicles, was a tragic one.
Magued, who had never before met his equal at sword play, proposed to send
him to Damascus, thinking that so brave a man would be a fitting present
to the caliph and a living testimony to his own knightly prowess. But
others valued the prize of valor as well as Magued, Tarik demanding that
the valiant prisoner should be delivered to him, and Musa afterwards
claiming possession. The controversy ended in a manner suitable to the
temper of the times, Magued slaying the captive with his own hand rather
than deliver to others the prize of his sword and shield.