THE SURRENDER OF BAZA.
The old warrior-king was seated in an inner chamber of the castle of
Guadix, much cast down in spirit and ruminating on his gloomy fortunes,
when an envoy from Baza was announced, and the veteran alcayde Mohammed
stood before him. El Zagal saw disastrous tidings written in his
countenance. “How fares it with Baza,” said he, summoning up his spirits
to the question. “Let this inform thee,” replied Mohammed, and he
delivered into his hands the letter from the prince Cid Hiaya.
This letter spoke of the desperate situation of Baza, the impossibility
of holding out longer without assistance from El Zagal, and the
favorable terms held out by the Castilian sovereigns. Had it been
written by any other person, El Zagal might have received it with
distrust and indignation; but he confided in Cid Hiaya as in a second
self, and the words of his letter sank deep in his heart. When he had
finished reading it, he sighed deeply, and remained for some time lost
in thought, with his head drooping upon his bosom. Recovering himself
at length, he called together the alfaquis and the old men of Guadix
and solicited their advice. It was sign of sore trouble of mind and
dejection of heart when El Zagal sought the advice of others, but his
fierce courage was tamed, for he saw the end of his power approaching.
The alfaquis and the old men did but increase the distraction of his
mind by a variety of counsel, none of which appeared of any avail, for
unless Baza were succored it was impossible that it should hold out; and
every attempt to succor it had proved ineffectual. El Zagal dismissed
his council in despair, and summoned the veteran Mohammed before him.
“God is great,” exclaimed he; “there is but one God, and Mahomet is his
prophet! Return to my cousin, Cid Hiaya; tell him it is out of my power
to aid him; he must do as seems to him for the best. The people of
Baza have performed deeds worthy of immortal fame; I cannot ask them to
encounter further ills and perils in maintaining a hopeless defence.”
The reply of El Zagal determined the fate of the city. Cid Hiaya and
his fellow-commanders capitulated, and were granted the most favorable
terms. The cavaliers and soldiers who had come from other parts to the
defence of the place were permitted to depart with their arms, horses,
and effects. The inhabitants had their choice either to depart with
their property or dwell in the suburbs in the enjoyment of their
religion and laws, taking an oath of fealty to the sovereigns and
paying the same tribute they had paid to the Moorish kings. The city
and citadel were to be delivered up in six days, within which period the
inhabitants were to remove all their effects; and in the mean time they
were to place as hostages fifteen Moorish youths, sons of the principal
inhabitants, in the hands of the commander of Leon. When Cid Hiaya and
the alcayde Mohammed came to deliver up the hostages, among whom were
the sons of the latter, they paid homage to the king and queen, who
received them with the utmost courtesy and kindness, and ordered
magnificent presents to be given to them, and likewise to the other
Moorish cavaliers, consisting of money, robes, horses, and other things
of great value.
The prince Cid Hiaya was so captivated by the grace, the dignity, and
generosity of Isabella and the princely courtesy of Ferdinand that he
vowed never again to draw his sword against such magnanimous sovereigns.
The queen, charmed with his gallant bearing and his animated professions
of devotion, assured him that, having him on her side, she already
considered the war terminated which had desolated the kingdom of
Granada.
Mighty and irresistible are words of praise from the lips of sovereigns.
Cid Hiaya was entirely subdued by this fair speech from the illustrious
Isabella. His heart burned with a sudden flame of loyalty toward the
sovereigns. He begged to be enrolled amongst the most devoted of their
subjects, and in the fervor of his sudden zeal engaged not merely to
dedicate his sword to their service, but to exert all his influence,
which was great, in persuading his cousin, Muley Abdallah el Zagal, to
surrender the cities of Guadix and Almeria and to give up all further
hostilities. Nay, so powerful was the effect produced upon his mind
by his conversation with the sovereigns that it extended even to his
religion; for he became immediately enlightened as to the heathenish
abominations of the vile sect of Mahomet, and struck with the truths
of Christianity as illustrated by such powerful monarchs. He consented,
therefore, to be baptized and to be gathered into the fold of the
Church. The pious Agapida indulges in a triumphant strain of exultation
on the sudden and surprising conversion of this princely infidel:
he considers it one of the greatest achievements of the Catholic
sovereigns, and indeed one of the marvellous occurrences of this holy
war. “But it is given to saints and pious monarchs,” says he, “to work
miracles in the cause of the faith; and such did the most Catholic
Ferdinand in the conversion of the prince Cid Hiaya.”
Some of the Arabian writers have sought to lessen the wonder of this
miracle by alluding to great revenues granted to the prince and his
heirs by the Castilian monarchs, together with a territory in Marchena,
with towns, lands, and vassals; but in this (says Agapida) we only see a
wise precaution of King Ferdinand to clinch and secure the conversion of
his proselyte. The policy of the Catholic monarch was at all times equal
to his piety. Instead also of vaunting of this great conversion and
making a public parade of the entry of the prince into the Church, King
Ferdinand ordered that the baptism should be performed in private and
kept a profound secret. He feared that Cid Hiaya might otherwise be
denounced as an apostate and abhorred and abandoned by the Moors,
and thus his influence destroyed in bringing the war to a speedy
termination.*
* Conde, tom. 3, cap. 40.
The veteran Mohammed Ibn Hassan was likewise won by the magnanimity and
munificence of the Castilian sovereigns, and entreated to be received
into their service; and his example was followed by many other Moorish
cavaliers, whose services were generously accepted and magnificently
rewarded.
Thus; after a siege of six months and twenty days, the city of Baza
surrendered on the 4th of December, 1489, the festival of the glorious
Santa Barbara, who is said in the Catholic calendar to preside over
thunder and lightning, fire and gunpowder, and all kinds of combustious
explosions. The king and queen made their solemn and triumphant entry
on the following day, and the public joy was heightened by the sight
of upward of five hundred Christian captives, men, women, and children,
delivered from the Moorish dungeons.
The loss of the Christians in this siege amounted to twenty thousand
men, of whom seventeen thousand died of disease, and not a few of
mere cold--a kind of death (says the historian Mariana) peculiarly
uncomfortable; but (adds the venerable Jesuit) as these latter were
chiefly people of ignoble rank, baggage-carriers and such-like, the loss
was not of great importance.
The surrender of Baza was followed by that of Almunecar, Tavernas, and
most of the fortresses of the Alpuxarras mountains; the inhabitants
hoped by prompt and voluntary submission to secure equally favorable
terms with those granted to the captured city, and the alcaydes to
receive similar rewards to those lavished on its commanders; nor were
either of them disappointed. The inhabitants were permitted to remain as
mudexares in the quiet enjoyment of their property and religion; and as
to the alcaydes, when they came to the camp to render up their charges
they were received by Ferdinand with distinguished favor, and rewarded
with presents of money in proportion to the importance of the places
they had commanded. Care was taken by the politic monarch, however, not
to wound their pride nor shock their delicacy; so these sums were paid
under color of arrears due to them for their services to the former
government. Ferdinand had conquered by dint of sword in the earlier part
of the war, but he found gold as potent as steel in this campaign of
Baza.
With several of these mercenary chieftains came one named Ali Aben
Fahar, a seasoned warrior who had held many important commands. He was
a Moor of a lofty, stern, and melancholy aspect, and stood silent and
apart while his companions surrendered their several fortresses and
retired laden with treasure. When it came to his turn to speak, he
addressed the sovereigns with the frankness of a soldier, but with the
tone of dejection and despair.
“I am a Moor,” said he, “and of Moorish lineage, and am alcayde of the
fair towns and castles of Purchena and Paterna. These were entrusted
to me to defend, but those who should have stood by me have lost all
strength and courage and seek only for security. These fortresses,
therefore, most potent sovereigns, are yours whenever you will send to
take possession of them.”
Large sums of gold were immediately ordered by Ferdinand to be delivered
to the alcayde as a recompense for so important a surrender. The Moor,
however, put back the gift with a firm and dignified demeanor. “I came
not,” said he, “to sell what is not mine, but to yield what fortune has
made yours; and Your Majesties may rest assured that had I been properly
seconded death would have been the price at which I would have sold my
fortresses, and not the gold you offer me.”
The Castilian monarchs were struck with the lofty and loyal spirit of
the Moor, and desired to engage a man of such fidelity in their service;
but the proud Moslem could not be induced to serve the enemies of his
nation and his faith.
“Is there nothing, then,” said Queen Isabella, “that we can do to
gratify thee, and to prove to thee our regard?”--“Yes,” replied the
Moor; “I have left behind me, in the towns and valleys which I have
surrendered, many of my unhappy countrymen, with their wives and
children, who cannot tear themselves from their native abodes. Give me
your royal word that they shall be protected in the peaceable enjoyment
of their religion and their homes.”--“We promise it,” said Isabella;
“they shall dwell in peace and security. But for thyself--what dost
thou ask for thyself?”--“Nothing,” replied Ali, “but permission to pass
unmolested with my horses and effects into Africa.”
The Castilian monarchs would fain have forced upon him gold and silver
and superb horses richly caparisoned, not as rewards, but as marks
of personal esteem; but Ali Aben Fahar declined all presents and
distinctions, as if he thought it criminal to flourish individually
during a time of public distress, and disdained all prosperity that
seemed to grow out of the ruins of his country.
Having received a royal passport, he gathered together his horses and
servants, his armor and weapons, and all his warlike effects, bade adieu
to his weeping countrymen with a brow stamped with anguish, but without
shedding a tear, and, mounting his Barbary steed, turned his back upon
the delightful valleys of his conquered country, departing on his lonely
way to seek a soldier’s fortune amidst the burning sands of Africa.*
* Pulgar, part 3, cap. 124; Garibay, lib. 40, cap. 40; Cura de
los Palacios.