others to desist, and continued the combat alone. The count,
already exhausted, was soon compelled to surrender; his brother, Don
Pedro de Silva, and the few of his retainers who survived, were
likewise taken prisoners. The Moorish cavalier who had manifested such a
chivalrous spirit in encountering the count singly was (3) Reduan Vanegas,
brother of the former vizier of Muley Abul Hassan, and one of the
leaders of the faction of the sultana Zoraya.
The dawn of day found Don Alonso de Aguilar with a handful of his
followers still among the mountains. They had attempted to follow the
marques of Cadiz, but had been obliged to pause and defend themselves
against the thickening forces of the enemy. They at length traversed
the mountain, and reached the same valley where the marques had made his
last disastrous stand. Wearied and perplexed, they sheltered themselves
in a natural grotto under an overhanging rock, which kept off the darts
of the enemy, while a bubbling fountain gave them the means of slaking
their raging thirst and refreshing their exhausted steeds. As day
broke the scene of slaughter unfolded its horrors. There lay the noble
brothers and nephews of the gallant marques, transfixed with darts
or gashed and bruised with unseemly wounds, while many other gallant
cavaliers lay stretched out dead and dying around, some of them partly
stripped and plundered by the Moors. De Aguilar was a pious knight, but
his piety was not humble and resigned, like that of the worthy master
of Santiago. He imprecated holy curses upon the infidels for having thus
laid low the flower of Christian chivalry, and he vowed in his heart
bitter vengeance upon the surrounding country.
By degrees the little force of De Aguilar was augmented by numbers of
fugitives who issued from caves and chasms where they had taken refuge
in the night. A little band of mounted knights was gradually formed,
and, the Moors having abandoned the heights to collect the spoils of
the slain, this gallant but forlorn squadron was enabled to retreat to
Antiquera.
This disastrous affair lasted from Thursday evening, throughout Friday,
the twenty-first of March, the festival of St. Benedict. It is still
recorded in Spanish calendars as the defeat of the mountains of Malaga,
and the spot where the greatest slaughter took place is called "la
Cuesta de la Matanza," or the Hill of the Massacre. The principal
leaders who survived returned to Antiquera. Many of the kn
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