“But,” she continued, “seeing that it is now two years since we began our war against the Moors, and that during that time we have been put to great trouble and expense, I hold it as ill-advised that we should burden ourselves with a fresh campaign elsewhere.” She then departed southwards with the Cardinal of Spain to arrange for a renewed invasion of Moorish territory, leaving the King with some Castilian troops to settle his own projects in the north according to his fancy. The result was, after due reflection, to bring him back to her, with his designs on Roussillon and Cerdagne temporarily shelved. There was nothing petty in the relation of either husband or wife; and it is probable that the secret of their unanimity of action lay in their mutual readiness to respond to reason. It was about this date that their military policy developed a new and more modern trend. The surprise of Alhama, the expedition to Ajarquia, and the hasty march to Loja had all been in keeping with the tactics of earlier crusades. That two out of the three expeditions had failed showed either a lack of judgment or of courage; and the reckless daring of the Castilian race forbade even the momentary consideration of the latter suggestion. Where then did the error lie? Experience showed that, in spite of her isolation, the kingdom of Granada would not succumb to ordinary measures of ravage and blockade. Even in the districts trampled underfoot, and burned and pillaged by Christian armies, the vegetation hardly awaited the departure of the invaders to spring up in fresh luxuriance. Ravages that would have made the plains of Castile a desert were quickly effaced in this land of sunshine, both by the help of nature and of the industrious inhabitants. There were, moreover, hidden _vegas_ and tracts of seaboard, protected on the north both from cold winds and foreign armies by high mountain ranges, whose southern slopes, with the land stretching beyond them, were a veritable paradise of fruits and crops. Granada might soon find her luxury curtailed, but to starve her into submission would be a Herculean task. Another lesson learned was the futility of a campaign of midnight assaults and surprises. These were well enough for a single expedition that aimed at no more than intimidating the enemy, or establishing a reputation for heroism amongst the leaders, though it has been shown such glory could be dearly bought. In scaling walls or planting an ambush the Castilian had not anything to teach his foe; while the majority of Moorish fortresses were built in commanding positions by the entrance to ravines, or were perched on almost inaccessible heights that gave to the defender with his javelin and cross-bow an enormous advantage over those scrambling up to the attack from below.