The Castilians directed their first efforts towards this elevation. At first they drove back the Moors, but, repulsed in their turn, they recoiled in disorder and began to retreat. Alphonso flew here and there, attempting to rally their broken ranks, "Archbishop," said he to the prelate who everywhere accompanied him, preceded by the grand standard of the Cross, "Archbishop, here are we destined to die!" "Not {106} so, sire," replied the ecclesiastic; "we are destined here to live and conquer!" At that moment the brave canon who carried the chief ensign threw himself with it into the midst of the infidels; the prelate and the king followed him, and the Castilian soldiers rushed forward to protect their sovereign and their sacred standard. The already victorious kings of Aragon and Navarre now advanced at the head of their wings to unite in the attack upon the height. The Moors were assaulted at all points: they bravely resisted their opponents; but the Christians crowded upon them—the Aragonais, the Navarrois, and the Castilians endeavouring mutually to surpass each other in courage and daring. The brave King of Navarre, making a path for himself through the midst of its defenders, reached the enclosure, and struck and broke the chains by which the Moorish commander was surrounded.[6] Mohammed took to flight on beholding this catastrophe; and his soldiers, no longer beholding their king, lost both hope and courage. They gave way in all directions, and fled before the Christians. Thousands of the Mussulmans fell beneath the {107} weapons of their pursuers, while the Archbishop of Toledo, with the other ecclesiastics, surrounding the victorious sovereigns, chanted a Te Deum on the field of battle.
Thus was gained the famous battle of Toloza, of which some details have been given in consequence of its great importance, and in illustration of the military tactics of the Moors. With them the arts of war consisted solely in mingling with the enemy, and fighting, each one for himself, until either the strongest or the bravest of the two parties remained masters of the field.
The Spaniards possessed but little more military skill than their Moslem neighbours; but their infantry, at least, could attack and resist in mass, while the discipline of that of the Saracens amounted to scarcely anything. On the other hand, again, the cavalry of the Moors was admirably trained. The cavaliers who composed it belonged to the principal families in the kingdom, and possessed excellent horses, in the art of managing which they had been trained from childhood. Their mode of combat was to rush forward with the rapidity of light, strike with the sabre or the lance, fly away as quickly, and then wheel suddenly and return again to the {108} encounter. Thus they often succeeded in recalling victory to their standard when she seemed just about to desert them. The Christians, covered as they were with iron, had in some respects the advantage of these knights, whose persons were protected only by a breastplate and headpiece of steel. The Moorish foot-soldiers were nearly naked, and armed only with a wretched pike. It is easy to perceive that, when involved in the mêlée, and, above all, during a route, vast numbers of them must have perished. This, too, renders less incredible the seemingly extravagant accounts given by historians of their losses in the field. They assert, for example, that, at the battle of Toloza, the Christians killed two hundred thousand Moors, while they lost themselves but fifteen hundred soldiers. Even when these assertions are estimated at their true value, it remains certain that the infidels sustained an immense loss; and this important defeat, which is still celebrated yearly at Toledo by a solemn fête, long deprived the kings of Morocco of all hope of subjugating the Spaniards.
The victory of Toloza was followed by more fatal consequences to the unfortunate Mohammed than to the Moors of Andalusia; for the {109} latter retired to their cities, defended them by means of the remains of the African army, and successfully resisted the Spanish princes, who succeeded in taking but few of their strong places, and, speedily dissolving their league, separated for their respective kingdoms. But Mohammed, despised by his subjects after his defeat, and assailed by the treachery of his nearest relations, lost all authority in Spain, and beheld the principal Moors, whom he had now no power to control, again forming little states, the independence of which they were prepared to assert by force of arms.[7] The discomfited El Nazir consequently returned to Africa, where he soon after died of chagrin.
With Mohammed the Green vanished the good fortune of the Almohades. The princes of that house, who followed El Nazir in rapid succession, purchased their royal prerogatives at the expense of continual unhappiness and danger, and were finally driven from the throne. The empire of Morocco was then divided, and three new dynasties were established; that of Fez, of Tunis, and of Tremecen. These three powerful and rival sovereignties greatly multiplied the {110} conflicts, crimes, and atrocities, the narration of which alone constitutes the history of Africa.
About this period some dissensions arose in Castile, which, together with the part assumed by the King of Aragon in the war of the Albigense in France, allowed the Moors time to breathe. The Moslems were still masters of the kingdoms of Valencia, Murcia, Grenada, and Andalusia, with part of Algarva and the Balearic Isles, which last, until that time, had continued to be but little known to the Christians of the Continent.
These states were divided between several sovereigns, the principal of whom was Benhoud, a descendant of the ancient kings of Saragossa, a sagacious monarch and a great commander, who by his genius and courage had obtained dominion over all the southeastern part of Spain. Next to Benhoud in rank, the most important of these Mohammedan princes were the kings of Seville and Valentia. The barbarian who reigned at Majorca was a mere piratical chief, whose enmity was formidable only to the inhabitants of the neighbouring coast of Catalonia.
Such was the condition of Moorish Spain, {111} when two young heroes seated themselves, nearly at the same time, on the thrones of the two principal Christian states; and, after having allayed the commotions created during the period of their minority, directed their concentrated efforts against the Mussulmans, A.D. 1224, Heg. 621.
These princes, who were mutually desirous to emulate each other in fame, but were never rivals in interest, both consecrated their lives to the extirpation of the inflexible enemies of their native land. One of these sovereigns was Jacques I., king of Aragon (a son of the Peter of Aragon who distinguished himself on the field of Toloza), who united to the courage, grace, and energy of his father, a greater degree of genius and success than fell to the lot of that sovereign. The other was Ferdinand III., king of Castile and Leon, a discerning, courageous, and enterprising monarch, whom the Romish Church has numbered with its saints, and history ranks among its great men.
This prince was the nephew of Blanche of Castile, queen of France, and cousin-german of St. Lewis,[8] whom he nearly resembled in his {112} piety, his bravery, and the wise laws he framed for the benefit of his subjects.