The Story of Majorca and Minorca. Sir Clements R. Markham
had arrived in the rear squadron and had been landed at Porrasa, where it was ascertained that the Moorish Amír with a large army was at Porto Pi, a small harbour between Porrasa and the capital of the island. This news was brought to the King at midnight, and he called a council of war, when it was determined to give the troops a good night’s rest before the expected battle. At dawn Jayme and his nobles heard Mass, and a sermon was preached by the Bishop of Barcelona. All prayed fervently, and were resolved upon victory. The King and most of his friends had received the Sacrament before starting, at Salou; but En Guillem de Moncada had delayed until this moment, desiring to do so on the very eve of battle.
Then the Moncadas, Mataplana, and some other knights, with 5,000 men, commenced a rapid advance against the enemy, apparently without orders. The Count of Ampurias followed with his men. A desperate fight was commenced, the Moors being in overwhelming numbers. Seeing the danger, the King galloped forward with a single knight, named Rocafort, in hopes of being in time to make the vanguard halt until the rest of the army could come up. He sent back Rocafort, when he heard the clang of arms; with an urgent message to En Nuño to bring up supports, as the vanguard was surrounded. Jayme was in extreme anxiety. He was heard to say to himself, ‘En Nuño delays much. The Holy Virgin preserve us!’ An experienced veteran, En Nuño saw that all was in order before he led the main body of the army into battle.
In about an hour En Nuño came to where the King was, who had galloped forward without arming himself. Bertran de Naya, one of his servants, brought the royal accoutrements, and Jayme put on his quilted coat, his coat of mail, and iron cap in the field. He told the general that the vanguard was engaged with the whole force of the enemy, and a rapid advance was made to the scene of action. Here the King met a knight named En Guillem de Mediona, who had great fame as a jouster in tournaments. He was coming out of the battle. He said he had been wounded by a stone on the lip. In a severe tone, King Jayme said that it was not seemly to retire owing to so slight a hurt. Mediona blushed with shame, turned his horse’s head and galloped into the thick of the fight, where he found a soldier’s death.
The King had been delayed by the necessity of putting on his armour. He then advanced up a hill which to this day is called ‘El Collado del Rey,’ attended by only twelve soldiers. On reaching the summit he found En Nuño marshalling his forces for the battle, and close at hand the vast army of the Moors, with the Amír’s red-and-white banner, the staff surmounted by a human head. The King, full of martial ardour, wanted to charge at once, but was restrained by En Nuño. Both armies joined battle, and, after a long contested engagement, the Moors broke and fled. The rout was so complete that the Amír took refuge in the mountains instead of returning to his capital. The Aragonese troops were too tired to continue the pursuit, and soon very sad news was brought respecting the fate of the vanguard.
The Bishop of Barcelona had to announce to the King that both En Guillem de Moncada, Viscount of Bearne, and En Ramon Moncada were slain, and that nearly all their men were cut to pieces before the main body of the army arrived on the field. Hugo de Mataplana was also among the slain. Young Jayme burst into tears at the loss of so many dear friends and comrades. The whole army mourned with their King. But they were now in sight of the beautiful city, the capture of which would be the crown of their enterprise. The King was dead tired and nearly famished, for he had eaten nothing all day. Going down a mountain spur, in company with En Nuño, they came upon a tent pitched under the pine-trees, amidst brushwood consisting of tree heaths, lentisco, and wild lavender. There was the smell of a good dinner in preparation, and here the tired warriors appeased their hunger, their host being En Oliver de Termens, a gallant Frenchman of Roussillon. When the King rose from an excellent meal he said, ‘Ben dinat,’ which in Catalan means ‘well dined.’ The spot retains the name to this day. Long the property of the Caro family, from which sprang that gallant Marquis de la Romana who brought the Spanish troops from Denmark to join in the War of Independence, the historical spot has been much changed in recent times. A stately castle with towers at the angles, surrounded by gardens and orange-groves, has taken the place of En Oliver’s tent where the young King dined so well 680 years ago. It was built in recent years by the Hungarian Marquesa de la Romana, who afterwards sold it. The castle of Bendinat is now owned by the Marquis de la Torre.
The interment of the great lords who were slain in the vanguard was conducted with all the pomp that was possible. A stone pillar surmounted by an iron cross now marks the spot. On one side is the date, September 12, 1229; on another the date of erection, 1884; and on a third the arms of Barcelona impaling those of Moncada (gules, four bezants in pale). It is on the left-hand side of the road, just halfway between Palma and Andraix, under the shade of a fine old pine-tree.
The scene of these military operations is exceedingly beautiful. The spurs from the main chain of mountains by the western sea are well covered with pine and ilex forests, and rise one behind the other. From them spurs covered with olives and carob-trees and an undergrowth of bright green crops and grass slope down to the sea. Some of the spurs form a lower chain, called the Sierra de Burguesa, overlooking Porto Pi and the capital.
The exposed bay of Palma, fifteen miles across, has the little harbour of Porto Pi on the west side, and the city of Mallorca, afterwards called Palma, in its centre. In Moorish times the city was an important commercial port, with a great fleet of piratical galleys. It had a strong wall and ditch, and eight gates. The bed of a mountain torrent formed the moat on the west side. On the sea-face there were three gates: one leading to the mole, called ‘the Gate of Chains’; another to the west, called Balbelet, leading from the Dar-as-Sanâá or arsenal, corrupted by the Catalans into ‘Atarazana.’ In the east of the sea-wall was the Hicolbelet. On the right of the Gate of Chains, within the walls, stood the Moorish palace, which appears to have been a small town in itself, called El Medînah, and by the Spaniards to this day Almudaina. On the east side there was a gate near the south-east angle, since closed up. Near the north-east angle was the Belalcofol, called by the Spaniards ‘Pintada.’ On the north side was the Barbolet, now the Puerto de Jesus. The Moors had two gates on the side of the torrent, facing west, the Belalbelet, since closed, and the gate of Porto Pi, now called Catalina. Altogether there seem to have been eight gates in the Moorish walls. Besides the Almudaina there was a strong castle near the south-east angle of the town, which was given to the Knights Templars, and near the centre stood the chief mosque. Of other public buildings in Moorish times there is no notice.
The city of the Moors, owing to its wealth and importance, must have contained many fine and richly furnished houses; but such an active energetic people as the Catalans very soon replaced them with churches, convents, and houses in their own style, and there is but one vestige left. Walking down a street at the back of the cathedral, called ‘Serra,’ to the sea-face, the shrubs and flowers of a garden show themselves over a high wall. A flight of steps leads to the garden, and in one corner an archway opens on the ruins of a Moorish bath, though nothing is left but the bare brickwork. There is a dome supported by twelve pillars, with capitals apparently from the ruins of a Roman temple, the pillars about eight feet high, and the conventional leaf capitals not exactly fitting them. Round the dome there is a vaulted passage, with recesses for piping. This is all that remains to bear witness of the Moorish palaces and houses, with their wealth of arabesque work and bright colouring, their marble pillars and pavements, their cool gardens and fountains and luxurious baths. All is now a dream of the long-buried past.
CHAPTER III
Tells how En Jayme besieged and took the capital, conquered the whole island, and became the first Christian King of Majorca
The rout of the Moorish army removed any obstacle to the commencement of the siege of the capital. The western side of the walls faced the Catalans as they approached from the hills above Porto Pi, but it was defended by a torrent-bed. After a careful reconnaissance, it was resolved to deliver the main attack on the north-east side, at the Belalcofol gate, called by the Spaniards ‘Pintada.’ Accordingly the King formed his camp facing this gate and about a mile distant, at a place still called ‘El Real,’