EVENTS AT GRANADA, AND RISE OF THE MOORISH KING, BOABDIL EL CHICO.
The Moorish king, Abul Hassan, returned, baffled and disappointed, from
before the walls of Alhama, and was received with groans and smothered
execrations by the people of Granada. The prediction of the santon was
in every mouth, and appeared to be rapidly fulfilling, for the enemy was
already strongly fortified in Alhama, in the very heart of the kingdom.
At the same time, the nobles who had secretly conspired to depose the
old king and elevate his son Boabdil to the throne had matured their
plans in concert with the prince, who had been joined in Guadix by hosts
of adherents. An opportunity soon presented to carry their plans into
operation.
Muley Abul Hassan had a royal country palace, with gardens and
fountains, called the Alixares, situated on the Cerro del Sol, or
Mountain of the Sun, a height the ascent to which leads up from the
Alhambra, but which towers far above that fortress, and looks down as
from the clouds upon it and upon the subjacent city of Granada. It was
a favorite retreat of the Moorish kings to inhale the pure
mountain-breezes and leave far below the din and turmoil of the city;
Muley Abul Hassan had passed a day among its bowers, in company with
his favorite wife Zoraya, when toward evening he heard a strange sound
rising from the city, like the gathering of a storm or the sullen roar
of the ocean. Apprehensive of evil, he ordered the officers of his guard
to descend with all speed to the city and reconnoitre. The intelligence
brought back was astounding. A civil war was raging in the city. Boabdil
had been brought from Guadix by the conspirators, the foremost of whom
were the gallant race of the Abencerrages. He had entered the Albaycin
in triumph, and been hailed with rapture and proclaimed king in that
populous quarter of the city. Abul Cacim Vanegas, the vizier, at the
head of the royal guards had attacked the rebels, and the noise which
had alarmed the king was the din of fighting in the streets and squares.
Muley Abul Hassan hastened to descend to the Alhambra, confident that,
ensconced in that formidable fortress, he could soon put an end to the
rash commotion. To his surprise and dismay, he found the battlements
lined with hostile troops: Aben Comixa, the alcayde, had declared in
favor of Boabdil and elevated his standard on the towers: thus cut off
from his stronghold, the old monarch was fain to return to the Alixares.
The conflict lasted throughout the night with carnage on both sides. In
the morning Abul Cacim, driven out of the city, appeared before the old
king with his broken squadrons, and told him there was no safety but in
flight. “Allah Akbar!” (God is great!) exclaimed old Muley; “it is in
vain to contend against what is written in the book of fate. It was
predestined that my son should sit upon the throne--Allah forfend the
rest of the prediction.” So saying, he made a hasty retreat, escorted
by Abul Cacim Vanegas and his troops, who conducted him to the castle
of Mondujar in the valley of Locrin. Here he was joined by many powerful
cavaliers, relatives of Abul Cacim and partisans of Zoraya, among whom
were Cid Hiaya, Aben Jamy, and Reduan Vanegas, men who had alcaydes,
vassals, at their command, and possessed great influence in Almeria and
Baza. He was joined also by his brother Abdallah, commonly called El
Zagal, or the Valiant, who was popular in many parts of the kingdom. All
these offered to aid him with their swords in suppressing the rebellion.
Thus reinforced, Muley Abul Hassan determined on a sudden blow for the
recovery of his throne and the punishment of the rebels. He took his
measures with that combination of dexterity and daring which formed his
character, and arrived one night under the walls of Granada with five
hundred chosen followers. Scaling the walls of the Alhambra, he threw
himself with sanguinary fury into its silent courts. The sleeping
inmates were roused from their repose only to fall by the exterminating
scimetar. The rage of Abul Hassan spared neither age nor rank nor sex;
the halls resounded with shrieks and yells, and the fountains ran red
with blood. The alcayde, Aben Comixa, retreated to a strong tower with
a few of the garrison and inhabitants. The furious Abul Hassan did not
lose time in pursuing him; he was anxious to secure the city and to
wreak his vengeance on its rebellious inhabitants. Descending with his
bloody band into the streets, he cut down the defenceless inhabitants
as, startled from their sleep, they rushed forth to learn the cause of
the alarm. The city was soon completely roused; the people flew to arms;
lights blazed in every street, revealing the scanty number of this
band that had been dealing such fatal vengeance in the dark. Muley
Abul Hassan had been mistaken in his conjectures: the great mass of the
people, incensed by his tyranny, were zealous in favor of his son. A
violent but transient conflict took place in the streets and squares:
many of the followers of Abul Hassan were slain, the rest driven out of
the city, and the old monarch, with the remnant of his band, retreated
to his loyal city of Malaga.
Such was the commencement of those great internal feuds and divisions
which hastened the downfall of Granada. The Moors became separated into
two hostile factions, headed by the father and the son, the latter of
whom was called by the Spaniards “El Rey Chico,” or the Young King; but,
though bloody encounters took place between them, they never failed to
act with all their separate force against the Christians as a common
enemy whenever an opportunity occurred.