HOW BOABDIL RETURNED SECRETLY TO GRANADA, AND HOW HE WAS
RECEIVED.--SECOND EMBASSY OF DON JUAN DE VERA, AND HIS PERILS IN THE
ALHAMBRA.
“In the hand of God,” exclaimed an old Arabian chronicler, “is the
destiny of princes; he alone giveth empire. A Moorish horseman, mounted
on a fleet Arabian steed, was one day traversing the mountains which
extended between Granada and the frontier of Murcia. He galloped swiftly
through the valleys, but paused and looked out cautiously from the
summit of every height. A squadron of cavaliers followed warily at
a distance. There were fifty lances. The richness of their armor and
attire showed them to be warriors of noble rank, and their leader had
a lofty and prince-like demeanor.” The squadron thus described by
the Arabian chronicler was the Moorish king Boabdil and his devoted
followers.
For two nights and a day they pursued their adventurous journey,
avoiding all populous parts of the country and choosing the most
solitary passes of the mountains. They suffered severe hardships and
fatigues, but suffered without a murmur: they were accustomed to rugged
campaigning, and their steeds were of generous and unyielding spirit.
It was midnight, and all was dark and silent as they descended from the
mountains and approached the city of Granada. They passed along quietly
under the shadow of its walls, until they arrived near the gate of
the Albaycin. Here Boabdil ordered his followers to halt and remain
concealed. Taking but four or five with him, he advanced resolutely to
the gate and knocked with the hilt of his scimetar. The guards demanded
who sought to enter at that unseasonable hour. “Your king!” exclaimed
Boabdil; “open the gate and admit him!”
The guards held forth a light and recognized the person of the youthful
monarch. They were struck with sudden awe and threw open the gates,
and Boabdil and his followers entered unmolested. They galloped to the
dwellings of the principal inhabitants of the Albaycin, thundering
at their portals and summoning them to arise and take arms for their
rightful sovereign. The summons was instantly obeyed: trumpets resounded
throughout the streets--the gleam of torches and the flash of arms
showed the Moors hurrying to their gathering-places; by daybreak the
whole force of the Albaycin was rallied under the standard of Boabdil,
and Aben Comixa was made alcayde of the fortress. Such was the success
of this sudden and desperate act of the young monarch, for we are
assured by contemporary historians that there had been no previous
concert or arrangement. “As the guards opened the gates of the city to
admit him,” observes a pious chronicler, “so God opened the hearts of
the Moors to receive him as their king.” *
* Pulgar.
In the morning early the tidings of this event roused El Zagal from his
slumbers in the Alhambra. The fiery old warrior assembled his guard in
haste and made his way, sword in hand, to the Albaycin, hoping to come
upon his nephew by surprise. He was vigorously met by Boabdil and
his adherents, and driven back into the quarter of the Alhambra. An
encounter took place between the two kings in the square before the
principal mosque; here they fought hand to hand with implacable fury, as
though it had been agreed to decide their competition for the crown by
single combat. In the tumult of this chance-medley affray, however, they
were separated, and the party of El Zagal was ultimately driven from the
square.
The battle raged for some time in the streets and places of the city,
but, finding their powers of mischief cramped within such narrow limits,
both parties sallied forth into the fields and fought beneath the walls
until evening. Many fell on both sides, and at night each party
withdrew into its quarter until the morning gave them light to renew the
unnatural conflict. For several days the two grand divisions of the city
remained like hostile powers arrayed against each other. The party of
the Alhambra was more numerous than that of the Albaycin, and contained
most of the nobility and chivalry; but the adherents of Boabdil were
men hardened and strengthened by labor and habitually skilled in the
exercise of arms.
The Albaycin underwent a kind of siege by the forces of El Zagal; they
effected breaches in the walls, and made repeated attempts to carry it
sword in hand, but were as often repulsed. The troops of Boabdil, on the
other hand, made frequent sallies, and in the conflicts which took
place the hatred of the combatants arose to such a pitch of fury that no
quarter was given on either side.
Boabdil perceived the inferiority of his force; he dreaded also that his
adherents, being for the most part tradesmen and artisans, would
become impatient of this interruption of their gainful occupations and
disheartened by these continual scenes of carnage. He sent missives,
therefore, in all haste to Don Fadrique de Toledo, who commanded the
Christian forces on the frontier, entreating his assistance.
Don Fadrique had received instructions from the politic Ferdinand to
aid the youthful monarch in all his contests with his uncle. He advanced
with a body of troops near to Granada. The moment Boabdil discerned,
from the towers of the Albaycin, the Christian banners and lances
winding round the base of the mountain of Elvira, he sallied forth to
meet them, escorted by a squadron of Abencerrages under Aben Comixa.
El Zagal, who was equally on the alert, and apprised that the Christian
troops came in aid of his nephew, likewise sallied forth and drew up his
troops in battle array. Don Fadrique, wary lest some treachery should be
intended, halted among some plantations of olives, retained Boabdil by
his side, and signified his wish that Aben Comixa would advance with his
squadron and offer battle to the old king. The provocation was given,
but El Zagal maintained his position. He threw out some light parties,
however, which skirmished with the Abencerrages of Aben Comixa, after
which he caused his trumpets to sound a recall, and retired into the
city, mortified, it is said, that the Christian cavaliers should witness
these fratricidal discords between true believers.
Don Fadrique, still distrustful, drew off to a distance, and encamped
for the night near the bridge of Cabillas.
Early in the morning a Moorish cavalier with an escort approached the
advance guard, and his trumpets sounded a parley. He craved an audience
as an envoy from El Zagal, and was admitted to the tent of Don Fadrique.
El Zagal had learnt that the Christian troops had come to aid his
nephew, and now offered to enter into an alliance with them on terms
still more advantageous than those of Boabdil. The wary Don Fadrique
listened to the Moor with apparent complacency, but determined to send
one of his most intrepid and discreet cavaliers, under the protection of
a flag, to hold a conference with the old king within the very walls of
the Alhambra. The officer chosen for this important mission was Don Juan
de Vera, the same stanch and devout cavalier who in times preceding the
war had borne the message from the Castilian sovereigns to old Muley
Abul Hassan demanding arrears of tribute. Don Juan was received
with great ceremony by the king. No records remain of his diplomatic
negotiations, but they extended into the night, and, it being too late
to return to camp, he was sumptuously lodged in an apartment of the
Alhambra. In the morning one of the courtiers about the palace, somewhat
given to jest and raillery, invited Don Juan to a ceremony which some
of the alfaquis were about to celebrate in the mosque of the palace.
The religious punctilio of this most discreet cavalier immediately took
umbrage at what he conceived a banter. “The servants of Queen Isabella
of Castile,” replied he, stiffly and sternly, “who bear on their armor
the cross of St. Jago, never enter the temples of Mahomet but to level
them to the earth and trample on them.”
The Moslem courtier retired somewhat disconcerted by this Catholic but
not very courteous reply, and reported it to a renegado of Antiquera.
The latter, eager, like all renegados, to show devotion to his
newly-adopted creed, volunteered to return with the courtier and have a
tilt of words with the testy diplomatist. They found Don Juan playing
a game of chess with the alcayde of the Alhambra, and took occasion to
indulge in sportive comments on some of the mysteries of the Christian
religion. The ire of this devout knight and discreet ambassador began
to kindle, but he restrained it within the limits of lofty gravity.
“You would do well,” said he, “to cease talking about what you do not
understand.” This only provoked light attacks of the witlings, until one
of them dared to make some degrading and obscene comparison between the
Blessed Virgin and Amina, the mother of Mahomet. In an instant Don Juan
sprang to his feet, dashed chess-board and chess-men aside, and, drawing
his sword, dealt, says the curate of los Palacios, such a “fermosa
cuchillada” (such a handsome slash) across the head of the blaspheming
Moor as felled him to the earth. The renegado, seeing his comrade
fall, fled for his life, making the halls and galleries ring with his
outcries. Guards, pages, and attendants rushed in, but Don Juan
kept them at bay until the appearance of the king restored order.
On inquiring into the cause of the affray he acted with proper
discrimination. Don Juan was held sacred as an ambassador, and the
renegado was severely punished for having compromised the hospitality of
the royal palace.
The tumult in the Alhambra, however, soon caused a more dangerous tumult
in the city. It was rumored that Christians had been introduced into
the palace with some treasonable design. The populace caught up arms and
ascended in throngs to the Gate of Justice, demanding the death of all
Christian spies and those who had introduced them. This was no time
to reason with an infuriate mob, when the noise of their clamors might
bring the garrison of the Albaycin to back them. Nothing was left for
El Zagal but to furnish Don Juan with a disguise, a swift horse, and an
escort, and to let him out of the Alhambra by a private gate. It was
a sore grievance to the stately cavalier to have to submit to these
expedients, but there was no alternative. In Moorish disguise he passed
through crowds that were clamoring for his head, and, once out of the
gate of the city, gave reins to his horse, nor ceased spurring until he
found himself safe under the banners of Don Fadrique.
Thus ended the second embassy of Don Juan de Vera, less stately but more
perilous than the first. Don Fadrique extolled his prowess, whatever
he may have thought of his discretion, and rewarded him with a superb
horse, while at the same time he wrote a letter to El Zagal thanking him
for the courtesy and protection he had observed to his ambassador. Queen
Isabella also was particularly delighted with the piety of Don Juan and
his promptness in vindicating the immaculate character of the Blessed
Virgin, and, besides conferring on him various honorable distinctions,
made him a royal present of three hundred thousand maravedis.*
* Alcantara, Hist. Granad., vol. 3, c. 17, apud De Harro, Nobiliario
Genealogico, lib. 5, cap. 15.
The report brought by this cavalier of affairs in Granada, together
with the preceding skirmishings between the Moorish factions before the
walls, convinced Don Fadrique that there was no collusion between the
monarchs: on returning to his frontier post, therefore, he sent Boabdil
a reinforcement of Christian foot-soldiers and arquebusiers, under
Fernan Alvarez de Sotomayor, alcayde of Colomera. This was as a
firebrand thrown in to light up anew the flames of war in the city,
which remained raging between the Moorish inhabitants for the space of
fifty days.