"The servants of Queen Isabella of Castile, who bear on their armor the
cross of St. Iago, never enter the temples of Mohammed, except to level
them to the earth and trample on them."
This discourteous reply was repeated by the courtier to a renegade, who,
having newly adopted the Moorish faith, was eager to show his devotion to
the Moslem creed, and proposed to engage the hot-tempered Catholic knight
in argument. Seeking Don Juan, they found him playing chess with the
alcaide of the palace, and the renegade at once began to comment on the
Christian religion in uncomplimentary terms. Don Juan was quick to anger,
but he restrained himself, and replied, with grave severity,--
"You would do well to cease talking about what you do not understand."
The renegade and his jesting companion replied in a series of remarks
intended as wit, though full of insolence, Don Juan fuming inwardly as he
continued to play. In the end they went too far, the courtier making an
obscene comparison between the Virgin Mary and Amina, the mother of
Mohammed. In an instant the old knight sprang up, white with rage, and
dashing aside chess-board and chessmen. Drawing his sword, he dealt such a
"_hermosa cuchillada_" ("handsome slash") across the head of the offending
Moor as to stretch him bleeding on the floor. The renegade fled in terror,
rousing the echoes of the palace with his outcries and stirring up guards
and attendants, who rushed into the room where the irate Christian stood
sword in hand defying Mohammed and his hosts. The alarm quickly reached
the ears of the king, who hurried to the scene, his appearance at once
restoring order. On hearing from the alcaide the cause of the affray, he
acted with becoming dignity, ordering the guards from the room and
directing that the renegade should be severely punished for daring to
infringe the hospitality of the palace and insult an embassador.
Don Juan, his quick fury evaporated, sheathed his sword, thanked the king
for his courtesy, and proposed a return to the camp. But this was not easy
of accomplishment. A garbled report of the tumult in the palace had spread
to the streets, where it was rumored that Christian spies had been
introduced into the palace with treasonable intent. In a brief time
hundreds of the populace were in arms and thronging about the gate of
Justice of the Alhambra, where they loudly demanded the death of all
Christians in the palace and of all who had introduced them.
It was impossible for Don Juan to leave the palace by the route he had
followed on his arrival. The infuriated mob would have torn him to pieces.
But it was important that he should depart at once. All that El Zagal
could do was to furnish him with a disguise, a swift horse, and an escort,
and to let him out of the Alhambra by a private gate. This secret mode of
departure was not relished by the proud Spaniard, but life was just then
of more value than dignity, as he appreciated when, in Moorish dress, he
passed through crowds who were thirsting for his blood. A gate of the city
was at length reached, and Don Juan and his escort rode quietly out. But
he was no sooner on the open plain than he spurred his horse to its speed,
and did not draw rein until the banners of Don Fadrique waved above his
head.
Don Fadrique heard with much approval of the boldness of his envoy. His
opinion of Don Juan's discretion he kept to himself. He rewarded him with
a valuable horse, and wrote a letter of thanks to El Zagal for his
protection to his emissary. Queen Isabella, on learning how stoutly the
knight had stood up for the chastity of the Blessed Virgin, was highly
delighted, and conferred several distinctions of honor upon the cavalier
besides presenting him with three hundred thousand maravedis.
The outcome of the advances of the two kings was that Don Fadrique chose
Boabdil as his ally, and sent him a reinforcement of foot-soldiers and
arquebusiers. This introduction of Christians into the city rekindled the
flames of war, and it continued to rage in the streets for the space of
fifty days.
The result of the struggle between the two kings may be briefly told.
While they contended for supremacy Ferdinand of Aragon invaded their
kingdom with a large army and marched upon the great seaport of Malaga. El
Zagal sought an accommodation with Boabdil, that they might unite their
forces against the common foe, but the short-sighted young man spurned his
overtures with disdain. El Zagal then, the better patriot of the two,
marched himself against the Christian host, hoping to surprise them in the
passes of the mountains and perhaps capture King Ferdinand himself.
Unluckily for him, his well-laid plan was discovered by the Christians,
who attacked and defeated him, his troops flying in uncontrollable
disorder.
The news of this disaster reached Granada before him and infuriated the
people, who closed their gates and threatened the defeated king from the
walls. Nothing remained to El Zagal but to march to Almeria and establish
his court in that city in which Boabdil had formerly reigned. Thus the
positions of the rival kings became reversed. From that time forward the
kingdom of Granada was divided into two, and the work of conquest by the
Christians was correspondingly reduced.