But the spring faded into summer and through the long, hot months the
Castilian army lay intrenched; autumn came, and still no signs of
departure; instead, in place of the city of tents, with which the plain
had been flecked and whitened, arose the stone city of Santa Fé, which
exists in our time, and which may be seen to–day, covering the site of
the Christian camp.
Then the Moors despaired of succour indeed, for hitherto it had been
Ferdinand’s custom to retire to his capital for the winter season,
and campaign in summer only. The Moors had planted no crops, reaped
no harvests, and now gaunt famine was staring them in the face; the
_cavalgadas_ of supplies, sent to them by friendly chiefs, were
captured by the watchful Christians, and their condition was most
pitiable. Still, the siege had not been without its incidents of
startling character, its display of chivalrous deeds of high renown;
for, after the arrival of Isabella at the camp, the spirited cavaliers
vied with each other as to which should perform the most daring
deed, until, the Moors usually getting the best of those individual
encounters, Ferdinand forbade them.
However, you may see, high up between the towers of the church
subsequently erected at Santa Fé, the marble effigy of a Moor’s head,
which reminds us of the most notable of those encounters. One of the
most defiant and insolent of the Moorish cavaliers was Yarfe the
Moslem, who carried his insolence so far as one day to dash into the
Spanish camp and throw his spear into the tent of the queen. To offset
this reckless deed, one of the Spanish _caballeros_, seeing the gate
of Granada one day but negligently guarded, passed the sentinels and
rode into the city, right up to the door of the great mosque, against
which, with the point of his poniard, he affixed a piece of wood,
with “_Ave Maria_” printed on it. Then he wheeled about and clattered
down the street, now thronging with astonished and angered Moors, and
miraculously escaped, hurling cries of defiance at his enemies as he
passed through the gate.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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