"In the hand of God is the destiny of princes. He alone giveth empire,"
piously says an old Arabian chronicler, and goes on with the following
story: A Moorish horseman, mounted on a fleet Arabian steed, was one day
traversing the mountains which extend between Granada and the frontier of
Murcia. He galloped swiftly through the valleys, but paused and gazed
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.
For two nights and a day the cavalcade made its way through that rugged
country, avoiding settled places and choosing the most solitary passes of
the mountains. Their hardships were severe, but campaigning was their
trade and their horses were of generous spirit. It was midnight when they
left the hills and rode through darkness and silence to the city of
Granada, under the shadows of whose high walls they passed to the gate of
the Albaycin. Here the leader ordered his followers to halt and remain
concealed. Taking four or five with him, he advanced to the gate and
struck upon it with the handle of his scimitar.
"Who is it knocks at this unseasonable hour of the night?" demanded the
warder within.
"Your king," was the answer. "Open and admit him."
Opening a wicket, the warder held forth a light and looked at the man
without. Recognizing him at a glance, he opened the gate, and the
cavalier, who had feared a less favorable reception, rode in with his
followers and galloped in haste to the hill of the Albaycin, where the
new-comers knocked loudly at the doors of the principal dwellings, bidding
their tenants to rise and take arms for their lawful sovereign. The
summons was obeyed. Trumpets soon resounded in the streets; the gleam of
torches lit the dark avenues and flashed upon naked steel. From right and
left the Moors came hurrying to the rendezvous. By daybreak the whole
force of the Albaycin was under arms, ready to meet in battle the hostile
array on the opposite height of the Alhambra.
To tell what this midnight movement meant we must go back a space in
history. The conquest of Granada was not due to Ferdinand and the
Spaniards alone. It was greatly aided by the dissensions of the Moors, who
were divided into two parties and fought bitterly with each other during
their intervals of truce with the Christians. Ferdinand won in the game
largely by a shrewd playing off of one of these factions against the other
and by taking advantage of the weakness and vacillation of the young king,
whose clandestine entrance to the city we have just seen.
Boabdil el Chico, or Boabdil the Young, as he was called, was the son of
Muley Abul Hassan, against whom he had rebelled, and with such effect
that, after a bloody battle in the streets of the city, the old king was
driven without its walls. His tyranny had caused the people to gather
round his son.
From that time forward there was dissension and civil war in Granada, and
the quarrels of its kings paved the way for the downfall of the state. The
country was divided into the two factions of the young and the old kings.
In the city the hill of the Albaycin, with its fortress of the Alcazaba,
was the stronghold of Boabdil, while the partisans of Abul Hassan dwelt on
the height of the Alhambra, the lower town between being the battle-ground
of the rival factions.
The succeeding events were many, but must be told in few words. King
Boabdil, to show his prowess to the people, marched over the border to
attack the city of Lucena. As a result he was himself assailed, his army
put to the rout, and himself taken prisoner by the forces of Ferdinand of
Aragon. To regain his liberty he acknowledged himself a vassal of the
Spanish monarch, to whom he agreed to pay tribute. On his release he made
his way to the city of Granada, but his adherents were so violently
assailed by those of his father that the streets of the city ran blood,
and Boabdil the Unlucky, as he was now called, found it advisable to leave
the capital and fix his residence in Almeria, a large and splendid city
whose people were devoted to him.
As the years went on Muley Abul Hassan became sadly stricken with age. He
grew nearly blind and was bed-ridden with paralysis. His brother Abdallah,
known as El Zagal, or "The Valiant," commander-in-chief of the Moorish
armies, assumed his duties as a sovereign, and zealously took up the
quarrel with his son. He attempted to surprise the young king at Almeria,
drove him out as a fugitive, and took possession of that city. At a later
date he endeavored to remove him by poison. It was this attempt that
spurred Boabdil to the enterprise we have just described. El Zagal was now
full king in Granada, holding the Alhambra as his palace, and his nephew,
who had been a wanderer since his flight from Almeria, was instigated to
make a bold stroke for the throne.
On the day after the secret return of Boabdil battle raged in the streets
of Granada, a fierce encounter taking place between the two kings in the
square before the principal mosque. Hand to hand they fought with the
greatest fury till separated by the charges of their followers.
For days the conflict went on, death and turmoil ruling in Granada, such
hatred existing between the two factions that neither side gave quarter.
Boabdil was the weaker in men. Fearing defeat in consequence, he sent a
messenger to Don Fadrique de Toledo, the Christian commander on the
border, asking for assistance. Don Fadrique had been instructed by
Ferdinand to give what aid he could to the young king, the vassal of
Spain, and responded to Boabdil's request by marching with a body of
troops to the vicinity of Granada. No sooner had Boabdil seen their
advancing banners than he sallied forth with a squadron to meet them. El
Zagal, who was equally on the alert, sallied forth at the same time, and
drew up his troops in battle array.
The wary Don Fadrique, in doubt as to the meaning of this double movement,
and fearing treachery, halted at a safe distance, and drew off for the
night to a secure situation. Early the next morning a Moorish cavalier
approached the sentinels and asked for an audience with Don Fadrique, as
an envoy from El Zagal. The Christian troops, he said on behalf of the old
king, had come to aid his nephew, but he was ready to offer them an
alliance on better terms than those of Boabdil. Don Fadrique listened
courteously to the envoy, but for better assurance, determined to send a
representative to El Zagal himself, under protection of a flag. For this
purpose he selected Don Juan de Vera, one of the most intrepid and
discreet of his cavaliers, who had in years before been sent by King
Ferdinand on a mission to the Alhambra.
Don Juan, on reaching the palace, was well received by the old king,
holding an interview with him which extended so far into the night that it
was too late to return to camp, and he was lodged in a sumptuous apartment
of the Alhambra. In the morning he was approached by one of the Moorish
courtiers, a man given to jest and satire, who invited him to take part in
a ceremony in the palace mosque. This invitation, given in jest, was
received by the punctilious Catholic knight in earnest, and he replied,
with stern displeasure,--
[Illustration: KING CHARLES'S WELL, ALHAMBRA.]