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While the veteran Taric was making this
wide circuit through the land, the expedition
under Magued the renegado proceeded against
the city of Cordova. The inhabitants of that
ancient place had beheld the great army of
Don Roderick spreading like an inundation
over the plain of the Guadalquivir, and had
felt confident that it must sweep the infidel
invaders from the land. What then was
their dismay, when scattered fugitives, wild
with horror and affright, brought them tidings
of the entire overthrow of that mighty host,
and the disappearance of the king! In the
midst of their consternation, the Gothic noble,
Pelistes, arrived at their gates, haggard with fatigue
of body, and anguish of mind, and leading
a remnant of his devoted cavaliers, who
had survived the dreadful battle of the Guadalete.
The people of Cordova knew the valiant
and steadfast spirit of Pelistes, and rallied round

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him as a last hope. “Roderick is fallen,” cried
they, “and we have neither king nor captain;
be unto us as a sovereign; take command of
our city, and protect us in this hour of peril!”

The heart of Pelistes was free from ambition,
and was too much broken by grief to be flattered
by the offer of command; but he felt
above every thing for the woes of his country,
and was ready to assume any desperate service
in her cause. “Your city” said he, “is surrounded
by walls and towers, and may yet check
the progress of the foe. Promise to stand by
me to the last, and I will undertake your defence.”
The inhabitants all promised implicit
obedience and devoted zeal; for what will not
the inhabitants of a wealthy city promise and
profess in a moment of alarm. The instant,
however, that they heard of the approach of
the moslem troops, the wealthier citizens packed
up their effects and fled to the mountains, or to
the distant city of Toledo. Even the monks
collected the riches of their convents and
churches, and fled. Pelistes, though he saw
himself thus deserted by those who had the
greatest interest in the safety of the city, yet
determined not to abandon its defence. He
had still his faithful though scanty band of
cavaliers, and a number of fugitives of the
army; in all amounting to about four hundred

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men. He stationed guards, therefore, at the
gates and in the towers, and made every preparation
for a desperate resistance.

In the meantime, the army of moslems and
apostate christians advanced, under the command
of the Greek renegado, Magued, and
guided by the traitor Julian. While they were
yet at some distance from the city, their scouts
brought to them a shepherd, whom they had
surprised on the banks of the Guadalquivir.
The trembling hind was an inhabitant of Cordova,
and revealed to them the state of the
place, and the weakness of its garrison.

“And the walls and gates,” said Magued,
“are they strong and well guarded?”

“The walls are high, and of wondrous
strength,” replied the shepherd, “and soldiers
hold watch at the gates by day and night. But
there is one place where the city may be secretly
entered. In a part of the wall, not far
from the bridge, the battlements are broken,
and there is a breach at some height from the
ground. Hard by stands a fig tree, by the aid
of which the wall may easily be scaled.”

Having received this information, Magued
halted with his army, and sent forward several
renegado christians, partisans of Count Julian,
who entered Cordova as if flying before the
enemy. On a dark and tempestuous night, the

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moslems approached to the end of the bridge
which crosses the Guadalquivir, and remained
in ambush. Magued took a small party of
chosen men, and, guided by the shepherd, forded
the stream and groped silently along the
wall to the place where stood the fig tree. The
traitors, who had fraudulently entered the city,
were ready on the wall to render assistance.
Magued ordered his followers to make use of
the long folds of their turbans instead of cords,
and succeeded without difficulty in clambering
into the breach.

Drawing their scimitars, they now hastened
to the gate which opened towards the bridge;
the guards, suspecting no assault from within,
were taken by surprise, and easily overpowered;
the gate was thrown open, and the army
that had remained in ambush, rushed over the
bridge, and entered without opposition.

The alarm had by this time spread throughout
the city; but already a torrent of armed
men was pouring through the streets. Pelistes
sallied forth with his cavaliers and such of the
soldiery as he could collect, and endeavoured
to repel the foe; but every effort was in vain.
The christians were slowly driven from street to
street, and square to square, disputing every inch
of ground; until, finding another body of the enemy
approaching to attack them in rear, they took

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refuge in a convent, and succeeded in throwing
to and barring the ponderous doors. The
Moors attempted to force the gates, but were
assailed with such showers of missiles from the
windows and battlements that they were obliged
to retire. Pelistes examined the convent, and
found it admirably calculated for defence. It
was of great extent, with spacious courts and
cloisters. The gates were massive, and secured
with bolts and bars; the walls were of great
thickness; the windows high and grated; there
was a great tank or cistern of water, and the
friars, who had fled from the city, had left behind
a good supply of provisions. Here, then,
Pelistes proposed to make a stand, and to endeavour
to hold out until succour should arrive
from some other city. His proposition was
received with shouts by his loyal cavaliers; not
one of whom but was ready to lay down his
life in the service of his commander.

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