Yet in spite of all these disadvantages the Goths made a brave stand--as brave, indeed, as our Saxon forefathers against the Normans. The first decisive battle in the South[1] lasted, as some writers have declared, six whole days, and the Arabs were at one time on the point of being driven into the sea. This is apparent from Tarik's address to his soldiers in the heat of battle: "Moslems, conquerors of Africa, whither would you fly? The sea is behind you, and the foe in front. There is no help for you save in your own right hands[2] and the favour of God." Nor must we lay any stress on the disparity of forces on either side, amounting to five to one, for a large proportion of Roderic's army was disaffected. It is probable that only the Goths made a determined stand; and even after such a crushing defeat as they received at Guadalete, and after the loss of their king, the Gothic nobles still offered a stubborn resistance in Merida, Cordova, and elsewhere.[3] One of them, Theodomir, after defending himself manfully in Murcia for some time, at last by his valour and address contrived to secure for himself, and even to hand down to his successor Athanagild, a semi-independent rule over that part of Spain. [1] Generally called the battle of Guadalete (Wada Lek, see De Gayangos on Al Makk. i. pp. 524, 527), fought either near Xeres or Medina Sidonia. [2] "Una salus victis nullam sperare salutem." See Al Makk. i. p. 271; Conde i. p. 57 (Bohn's Translation). [3] We must not forget also that the mild and politic conduct of the Saracens towards the towns that surrendered, even after resistance, marvellously facilitated their conquest. But the great proof that the Goths had not lost all their ancient hardihood and nobleness, is afforded by the fact that, when they had been driven into the mountains of the North and West, they seem to have begun at once to organize a fresh resistance against the invaders. The thirty[1] wretched barbarians, whom the Arabs thought it unnecessary to pursue into their native fastnesses, soon showed that they had power to sting; and the handful of patriots, who in the cave of Covadonga gathered round Pelayo, a scion of the old Gothic line, soon swelled into an army, and the army into a nation. Within six years of the death of Roderic had begun that onward march of the new Spanish monarchy, which, with the exception of a disastrous twenty-five years at the close of the tenth century, was not destined to retrograde, scarcely even to halt, until it had regained every foot of ground that had once belonged to the Gothic kings.