CAPTIVITY OF BOABDIL EL CHICO.
The unfortunate Boabdil remained a prisoner closely guarded, but treated
with great deference and respect, in the castle of Lucena, where the
noblest apartments were appointed for his abode. From the towers of his
prison he beheld the town below filled with armed men, and the lofty
hill on which it was built girdled by massive walls and ramparts, on
which a vigilant watch was maintained night and day. The mountains
around were studded with watch-towers overlooking the lonely roads which
led to Granada, so that a turban could not stir over the border without
the alarm being given and the whole country put on the alert. Boabdil
saw that there was no hope of escape from such a fortress, and that any
attempt to rescue him would be equally in vain. His heart was filled
with anxiety as he thought on the confusion and ruin which his captivity
must cause in his affairs, while sorrows of a softer kind overcame his
fortitude as he thought on the evils it might bring upon his family.
A few days only had passed away when missives arrived from the Castilian
sovereigns. Ferdinand had been transported with joy at hearing of the
capture of the Moorish monarch, seeing the deep and politic uses that
might be made of such an event; but the magnanimous spirit of Isabella
was filled with compassion for the unfortunate captive. Their messages
to Boabdil were full of sympathy and consolation, breathing that high
and gentle courtesy which dwells in noble minds.
This magnanimity in his foe cheered the dejected spirit of the captive
monarch. “Tell my sovereigns, the king and queen,” said he to the
messenger, “that I cannot he unhappy being in the power of such high and
mighty princes, especially since they partake so largely of that grace
and goodness which Allah bestows upon the monarchs whom he greatly
loves. Tell them, further, that I had long thought of submitting myself
to their sway, to receive the kingdom of Granada from their hands in the
same manner that my ancestor received it from King John II., father to
the gracious queen. My greatest sorrow, in this my captivity, is that
I must appear to do that from force which I would fain have done from
inclination.”
In the mean time, Muley Abul Hassan, finding the faction of his son
still formidable in Granada, was anxious to consolidate his power by
gaining possession of the person of Boabdil. For this purpose he sent an
embassy to the Catholic monarchs, offering large terms for the ransom,
or rather the purchase, of his son, proposing, among other conditions,
to release the count of Cifuentes and nine other of his most
distinguished captives, and to enter into a treaty of confederacy with
the sovereigns. Neither did the implacable father make any scruple of
testifying his indifference whether his son were delivered up alive or
dead, so that his person were placed assuredly within his power.
The humane heart of Isabella revolted at the idea of giving up the
unfortunate prince into the hands of his most unnatural and inveterate
enemy: a disdainful refusal was therefore returned to the old monarch,
whose message had been couched in a vaunting spirit. He was informed
that the Castilian sovereigns would listen to no proposals of peace from
Muley Abul Hassan until he should lay down his arms and offer them in
all humility.
Overtures in a different spirit were made by the mother of Boabdil, the
sultana Ayxa la Horra, with the concurrence of the party which still
remained faithful to him. It was thereby proposed that Mahomet Abdallah,
otherwise called Boabdil, should hold his crown as vassal to the
Castilian sovereigns, paying an annual tribute and releasing seventy
Christian captives annually for five years; that he should, moreover,
pay a large sum upon the spot for his ransom, and at the same time give
freedom to four hundred Christians to be chosen by the king; that he
should also engage to be always ready to render military aid, and should
come to the Cortes, or assemblage of nobles and distinguished vassals
of the Crown, whenever summoned. His only son and the sons of twelve
distinguished Moorish houses were to be delivered as hostages.
An embassy composed of the alcayde Aben Comixa, Muley, the royal
standard-bearer, and other distinguished cavaliers bore this proposition
to the Spanish court at Cordova, where they were received by King
Ferdinand. Queen Isabella was absent at the time. He was anxious to
consult her in so momentous an affair, or, rather, he was fearful of
proceeding too precipitately, and not drawing from this fortunate event
all the advantage of which it was susceptible. Without returning any
reply, therefore, to the mission, he ordered that the captive monarch
should be brought to Cordova.
The alcayde of the Donceles was the bearer of this mandate, and summoned
all the hidalgos of Lucena and of his own estates to form an honorable
escort for the illustrious prisoner. In this style he conducted him
to the capital. The cavaliers and authorities of Cordova came forth to
receive the captive king with all due ceremony, and especial care was
taken to prevent any taunt or insult from the multitude, or anything
that might remind him of his humiliation. In this way he entered the
once proud capital of the Abda’rahmans, and was lodged in the house of
the king’s major-domo. Ferdinand, however, declined seeing the Moorish
monarch. He was still undetermined what course to pursue--whether to
retain him prisoner, set him at liberty on ransom, or treat him with
politic magnanimity; and each course would require a different kind of
reception. Until this point should be resolved, therefore, he gave
him in charge to Martin de Alarcon, alcayde of the ancient fortress of
Porcuna, with orders to guard him strictly, but to treat him with
the distinction and deference due unto a prince. These commands were
strictly obeyed: he was escorted, as before, in royal state, to the
fortress which was to form his prison, and, with the exception of being
restrained in his liberty, was as nobly entertained there as he could
have been in his regal palace at Granada.
In the mean time, Ferdinand availed himself of this critical moment,
while Granada was distracted with factions and dissensions, and before
he had concluded any treaty with Boabdil, to make a puissant and
ostentatious inroad into the very heart of the kingdom at the head of
his most illustrious nobles. He sacked and destroyed several towns and
castles, and extended his ravages to the very gates of Granada. Muley
Abul Hassan did not venture to oppose him. His city was filled with
troops, but he was uncertain of their affection. He dreaded that should
he sally forth the gates of Granada might be closed against him by the
faction of the Albaycin.
The old Moor stood on the lofty tower of the Alhambra (says Antonio
Agapida) grinding his teeth and foaming like a tiger shut up in his cage
as he beheld the glittering battalions of the Christians wheeling about
the Vega, and the standard of the cross shining forth from among the
smoke of infidel villages and hamlets. The most Catholic king (continues
Agapida) would gladly have continued this righteous ravage, but his
munitions began to fail. Satisfied, therefore, with having laid waste
the country of the enemy and insulted Muley Abul Hassan in his very
capital, he returned to Cordova covered with laurels and his army
laden with spoils, and now bethought himself of coming to an immediate
decision in regard to his royal prisoner.