CHAPTER XIV

Chronicle of the Conquest of Granada

by Washington Irving

CHAPTER XIV, CHRONICLE OF THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA by Washington Irving

HOW KING BOABDIL EL CHICO MARCHED OVER THE BORDER.


The defeat of the Christian cavaliers among the mountains of Malaga,
and the successful inroad of Muley Abul Hassan into the lands of
Medina Sidonia, had produced a favorable effect on the fortunes of
the old monarch. The inconstant populace began to shout forth
his name in the streets, and to sneer at the inactivity of his son
Boabdil el Chico. The latter, though in the flower of his age and
distinguished for vigor and dexterity in jousts and tournaments,
had never yet fleshed his weapon in the field of battle; and it was
murmured that he preferred the silken repose of the cool halls of
the Alhambra to the fatigue and danger of the foray and the hard
encampments of the mountains.

The popularity of these rival kings depended upon their success
against the Christians, and Boabdil el Chico found it necessary to
strike some signal blow to counterbalance the late triumph of
his father. He was further incited by his father-in-law, Ali Atar,
alcayde of Loxa, with whom the coals of wrath against the Christians
still burned among the ashes of age, and had lately been blown into
a flame by the attack made by Ferdinand on the city under his
command.


Ali Atar informed Boabdil that the late discomfiture of the Christian
knights had stripped Andalusia of the prime of her chivalry and
broken the spirit of the country. All the frontier of Cordova and
Ecija now lay open to inroad; but he especially pointed out the
city of Lucena as an object of attack, being feebly garrisoned and
lying in a country rich in pasturage, abounding in cattle and grain,
in oil and wine. The fiery old Moor spoke from thorough information,
for he had made many an incursion into these parts, and his very
name was a terror throughout the country. It had become a by-
word in the garrison of Loxa to call Lucena the garden of Ali Atar,
for he was accustomed to forage its fertile territories for all his
supplies.

Boabdil el Chico listened to the persuasions of this veteran of the
borders. He assembled a force of nine thousand foot and seven
hundred horse, most of them his own adherents, but many the
partisans of his father; for both factions, however they might fight
among themselves, were ready to unite in any expedition against the
Christians. Many of the most illustrious and valiant of the Moorish
nobility assembled round his standard, magnificently arrayed in
sumptuous armor and rich embroidery, as though for a festival or
a tilt of canes rather than an enterprise of iron war. Boabdil's
mother, the sultana Ayxa la Horra, armed him for the field, and gave
him her benediction as she girded his scimetar to his side. His
favorite wife Morayma wept as she thought of the evils that might
befall him. "Why dost thou weep, daughter of Ali Atar?" said the
high-minded Ayxa: "these tears become not the daughter of a
warrior nor the wife of a king. Believe me there lurks more danger
for a monarch within the strong walls of a palace than within the
frail curtains of a tent. It is by perils in the field that thy husband
must purchase security on his throne."

But Morayma still hung upon his neck with tears and sad forebodings,
and when he departed from the Alhambra she betook herself to her
mirador, overlooking the Vega, whence she watched the army as it
went in shining order along the road leading to Loxa, and every
burst of warlike melody that came swelling on the breeze was
answered by a gush of sorrow.

As the royal cavalcade issued from the palace and descended
through the streets of Granada the populace greeted their youthful
sovereign with shouts, anticipating deeds of prowess that would
wither the laurels of his father. The appearance of Boabdil was well
calculated to captivate the public eye, if we may judge from the
description given by the abbot of Rute in his manuscript history of
the House of Cordova. He was mounted on a superb white charger
magnificently caparisoned. His corselets were of polished steel
richly ornamented, studded with gold nails, and lined with crimson
velvet. He wore a steel casque exquisitely chiselled and embossed;
his scimetar and dagger of Damascus were of highest temper; he had a
round buckler at his shoulder and bore a ponderous lance. In passing
through the gate of Elvira, however, he accidentally broke his lance
against the arch. At this certain of his nobles turned pale and
entreated him to turn back, for they regarded it as an evil omen.
Boabdil scoffed at their fears as idle fancies. He refused to take
another spear, but drew forth his scimetar and led the way (adds
Agapida) in an arrogant and haughty style, as though he would set
both Heaven and earth at defiance. Another evil omen was sent to
deter him from his enterprise: arriving at the rambla, or dry ravine,
of Beyro, which is scarcely a bowshot from the city, a fox ran through
the whole army and close by the person of the king, and, though
a thousand bolts were discharged at it, escaped uninjured to the
mountains. The principal courtiers now reiterated their remonstrances
against proceeding; the king, however, was not to be dismayed by
these portents, but continued to march forward.*

*Marmol, Rebel. de los Moros, lib. 1, c. xii., fol. 14.


At Loxa the army was reinforced by old Ali Atar with the chosen
horsemen of his garrison and many of the bravest warriors of the
border towns. The people of Loxa shouted with exultation when
they beheld Ali Atar armed at all points and mounted on his Barbary
steed, which had often borne him over the borders. The veteran
warrior, with nearly a century of years upon his head, had all the
fire and animation of youth at the prospect of a foray, and careered
from rank to rank with the velocity of an Arab of the desert. The
populace watched the army as it paraded over the bridge and wound
into the passes of the mountains, and still their eyes were fixed
upon the pennon of Ali Atar as if it bore with it an assurance
of victory.

The Moorish army entered the Christian frontier by forced marches,
hastily ravaging the country, driving off the flocks and herds, and
making captives of the inhabitants. They pressed on furiously,
and made the latter part of their march in the night, to elude
observation and come upon Lucena by surprise. Boabdil was
inexperienced in warfare, but had a veteran counsellor in his old
father-in-law; for Ali Atar knew every secret of the country, and as
he prowled through it his eye ranged over the land, uniting in its
glare the craft of the fox with the sanguinary ferocity of the wolf.
He had flattered himself that their march had been so rapid as to
outstrip intelligence, and that Lucena would be an easy capture,
when suddenly he beheld alarm-fires blazing upon the mountains.
"We are discovered," said he to Boabdil; "the country will be up in
arms; we have nothing left but to strike boldly for Lucena: it is but
slightly garrisoned, and we may carry it by assault before it can
receive assistance." The king approved of his counsel, and they
marched rapidly for the gate of Lucena.