CHAPTER XXI

Chronicle of the Conquest of Granada

by Washington Irving

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

RETURN OF BOABDIL FROM CAPTIVITY.


In the month of August a noble Moor, of the race of the
Abencerrages, arrived with a splendid retinue at the city of
Cordova, bringing with him the son of Boabdil el Chico and other of
the noble youth of Granada as hostages for the fulfilment of the
terms of ransom. When the Moorish king beheld his son, his only
child, who was to remain in his stead a sort of captive in a hostile
land, he folded him in his arms and wept over him. "Woe the day that
I was born!" exclaimed he, "and evil the stars that presided at my
birth! Well was I called El Zogoybi, or the Unlucky, for sorrow is
heaped upon me by my father, and sorrow do I transmit to my son!"
The afflicted heart of Boabdil, however, was soothed by the kindness
of the Christian sovereigns, who received the hostage prince with a
tenderness suited to his age and a distinction worthy of his rank.
They delivered him in charge to the worthy alcayde Martin de
Alarcon, who had treated his father with such courtesy during his
confinement in the castle of Porcuna, giving orders that after the
departure of the latter his son should be entertained with great
honor and princely attention in the same fortress.

On the 2d of September a guard of honor assembled at the gate of
the mansion of Boabdil to escort him to the frontiers of his kingdom.
He pressed his child to his heart at parting, but he uttered not a
word, for there were many Christian eyes to behold his emotion. He
mounted his steed, and never turned his head to look again upon the
youth, but those who were near him observed the vehement struggle
that shook his frame, wherein the anguish of the father had wellnigh
subdued the studied equanimity of the king.

Boabdil el Chico and King Ferdinand sallied forth side by side from
Cordova, amidst the acclamations of a prodigious multitude. When
they were a short distance from the city they separated, with many
gracious expressions on the part of the Castilian monarch, and many
thankful acknowledgments from his late captive, whose heart had been
humbled by adversity. Ferdinand departed for Guadalupe, and Boabdil
for Granada. The latter was accompanied by a guard of honor, and the
viceroys of Andalusia and the generals on the frontier were ordered
to furnish him with escorts and to show him all possible honor on
his journey. In this way he was conducted in royal state through
the country he had entered to ravage, and was placed in safety in
his own dominions.

He was met on the frontier by the principal nobles and cavaliers of
his court, who had been secretly sent by his mother, the sultana
Ayxa, to escort him to the capital. The heart of Boabdil was lifted
up for a moment when he found himself on his own territories,
surrounded by Moslem knights, with his own banners waving over his
head, and he began to doubt the predictions of the astrologers: he
soon found cause, however, to moderate his exultation. The royal
train which had come to welcome him was but scanty in number, and
he missed many of his most zealous and obsequious courtiers. He had
returned, indeed, to his kingdom, but it was no longer the devoted
kingdom he had left. The story of his vassalage to the Christian
sovereigns had been made use of by his father to ruin him with the
people. He had been represented as a traitor to his country, a
renegado to his faith, and as leagued with the enemies of both to
subdue the Moslems of Spain to the yoke of Christian bondage. In
this way the mind of the public had been turned from him; the
greater part of the nobility had thronged round the throne of his
father in the Alhambra; and his mother, the resolute sultana Ayxa,
with difficulty maintained her faction in the opposite towers
of the Alcazaba.

Such was the melancholy picture of affairs given to Boabdil by the
courtiers who had come forth to meet him. They even informed him
that it would be an enterprise of difficulty and danger to make his
way back to the capital and regain the little court which still
remained faithful to him in the heart of the city. The old tiger,
Muley Abul Hassan, lay couched within the Alhambra, and the walls
and gates of the city were strongly guarded by his troops. Boabdil
shook his head at these tidings. He called to mind the ill omen of
his breaking his lance against the gate of Elvira when issuing
forth so vaingloriously with his army, which he now saw clearly
had foreboded the destruction of that army on which he had so
confidently relied. "Henceforth," said he, "let no man have the
impiety to scoff at omens."

Boabdil approached his capital by stealth and in the night, prowling
about its walls like an enemy seeking to destroy rather than a
monarch returning to his throne. At length he seized upon a
postern-gate of the Albaycin, that part of the city which had always
been in his favor; he passed rapidly through the streets before the
populace were aroused from their sleep, and reached in safety the
fortress of the Alcazaba. Here he was received into the embraces of
his intrepid mother and his favorite wife Morayma. The transports of
the latter on the safe return of her husband were mingled with tears,
for she thought of her father, Ali Atar, who had fallen in his cause,
and of her only son, who was left a hostage in the hand of the
Christians.

The heart of Boabdil, softened by his misfortunes, was moved by
the changes in everything round him; but his mother called up his
spirit. "This," said she, "is no time for tears and fondness. A
king must think of his sceptre and his throne, and not yield to
softness like common men. Thou hast done well, my son, in throwing
thyself resolutely into Granada: it must depend upon thyself whether
thou remain here a king or a captive."

The old king, Muley Abul Hassan, had retired to his couch that night
in one of the strongest towers of the Alhambra, but his restless
anxiety kept him from repose. In the first watch of the night he
heard a shout faintly rising from the quarter of the Albaycin, which
is on the opposite side of the deep valley of the Darro. Shortly
afterward horsemen came galloping up the hill that leads to the main
gate of the Alhambra, spreading the alarm that Boabdil had entered
the city and possessed himself of the Alcazaba.

In the first transports of his rage the old king would have struck
the messenger to earth. He hastily summoned his counsellors and
commanders, exhorting them to stand by him in this critical moment,
and during the night made every preparation to enter the Albaycin
sword in hand in the morning.

In the mean time the sultana Ayxa had taken prompt and vigorous
measures to strengthen her party. The Albaycin was the part of
the city filled by the lower orders. The return of Boabdil was
proclaimed throughout the streets, and large sums of money were
distributed among the populace. The nobles assembled in the Alcazaba
were promised honors and rewards by Boabdil as soon as he should be
firmly seated on the throne. These well-timed measures had the
customary effect, and by daybreak all the motley populace of the
Albaycin were in arms.

A doleful day succeeded. All Granada was a scene of tumult and
horror. Drums and trumpets resounded in every part; all business
was interrupted; the shops were shut, the doors barricadoed. Armed
bands paraded the streets, some shouting for Boabdil, and some for
Muley Abul Hassan. When they encountered each other they fought
furiously and without mercy; every public square became a scene of
battle. The great mass of the lower orders was in favor of Boabdil,
but it was a multitude without discipline or lofty spirit: part of the
people were regularly armed, but the greater number had sallied
forth with the implements of their trade. The troops of the old king,
among whom were many cavaliers of pride and valor, soon drove
the populace from the squares. They fortified themselves, however,
in the streets and lanes, which they barricadoed. They made
fortresses of their houses, and fought desperately from the windows
and the roofs, and many a warrior of the highest blood of Granada
was laid low by plebeian hands and plebeian weapons in this
civic brawl.*

*Conde, Domin. de los Arabes, p. 4, c. 37.


It was impossible that such violent convulsions should last long in
the heart of the city. The people soon longed for repose and a
return to their peaceful occupations, and the cavaliers detested
these conflicts with the multitude, in which were all the horrors
of war without its laurels. By the interference of the alfaquis an
armistice was at length effected. Boabdil was persuaded that there
was no dependence upon the inconstant favor of the multitude, and
was prevailed upon to quit a capital where he could only maintain a
precarious seat upon his throne by a perpetual and bloody struggle.
He fixed his court at the city of Almeria, which was entirely
devoted to him, and which at that time vied with Granada in splendor
and importance. This compromise of grandeur for tranquillity,
however, was sorely against the counsels of his proud-spirited
mother, the sultana Ayxa. Granada appeared, in her eyes, the only
legitimate seat of dominion, and she observed, with a smile of
disdain, that he was not worthy of being called a monarch who was
not master of his capital.