ented master of
Calatrava.

The battle continued with incredible obstinacy. The Moors knew the
importance of the height to the safety of the city; the cavaliers felt
their honors staked to maintain it. Fresh supplies of troops were poured
out of the city: some battled on the height, while some attacked the
Christians who were still in the valley and among the orchards and
gardens to prevent their uniting their forces. The troops in the valley
were gradually driven back, and the whole host of the Moors swept around
the height of Albohacen. The situation of the marques de Cadiz and his
companions was perilous in the extreme: they were a mere handful, and,
while fighting hand to hand with the Moors who assailed the height, were
galled from a distance by the crossbows and arquebuses of a host
that augmented each moment in number. At this critical juncture King
Ferdinand emerged from the mountains with the main body of the army, and
advanced to an eminence commanding a full view of the field of action.
By his side was the noble English cavalier, the earl of Rivers. This was
the first time he had witnessed a scene of Moorish warfare. He looked
with eager interest at the chance-medley fight before him, where there
was the wild career of cavalry, the irregular and tumultuous rush of
infantry, and where Christian and Moor were intermingled in deadly
struggle. The high blood of the English knight mounted at the sight, and
his soul was stirred within him by the confused war-cries, the clangor
of drums and trumpets, and the reports of arquebuses. Seeing that the
king was sending a reinforcement to the field, he entreated permission
to mingle in the affray and fight according to the fashion of his
country. His request being granted, he alighted from his steed: he was
merely armed "en blanco"--that is to say, with morion, back-piece,
and breast-plate--his sword was girded by his side, and in his hand he
wielded a powerful battle-axe. He was followed by a body of his yeomen
armed in like manner, and by a band of archers with bows made of the
tough English yew tree. The earl turned to his troops and addressed then
briefly and bluntly, according to the manner of his country. "Remember,
my merry men all," said he, "the eyes of strangers are upon you; you are
in a foreign land, fighting for the glory of God and the honor of merry
old England!" A loud shout was the reply. The earl waved his battle-axe
over his head. "St. George for England