University of Virginia Library

21. CHAPTER XXI.
Return of Boabdil from captivity.

In the month of August, a noble Moor, of the race
of the Abencerrages, arrived with a splendid retinue
at the city of Cordova, bringing with him the son of
Boabdil el Chico, and other of the noble youth of
Granada, as hostages for the fulfilment of the terms
of ransom. When the Moorish king beheld his son,
his only child, who was to remain in his stead, a sort
of captive in a hostile land, he folded him in his arms
and wept over him. “Wo the day that I was born!”
exclaimed he, “and evil the stars that presided at my
birth! Well was I called El Zogoybi, or the unlucky;
for sorrow is heaped upon me by my father, and sorrow
do I transmit to my son!” The afflicted heart
of Boabdil, however, was soothed by the kindness
of the christian sovereigns, who received the hostage
prince with a tenderness suited to his age, and a distinction
worthy of his rank. They delivered him in
charge to the worthy alcayde Martin de Alarcon, who
had treated his father with such courtesy during his
confinement in the castle of Porcuna, giving orders,
that, after the departure of the latter, his son should
be entertained with great honor and princely attention,
in the same fortress.

On the 2d of September, a guard of honor assembled
at the gate of the mansion of Boabdil, to escort

him to the frontiers of his kingdom. He pressed his
child to his heart at parting, but he uttered not a
word; for there were many christian eyes, to behold
his emotion. He mounted his steed, and never turned
his head to look again upon the youth; but those
who were near him observed the vehement struggle
that shook his frame, wherein the anguish of the father
had well nigh subdued the studied equanimity of the
king.

Boabdil el Chico and king Ferdinand sallied forth,
side by side, from Cordova, amidst the acclamations
of a prodigious multitude. When they were a short
distance from the city, they separated, with many
gracious expressions on the part of the Castilian
monarch, and many thankful acknowledgments from
his late captive, whose heart had been humbled by
adversity. Ferdinand departed for Guadalupe, and
Boabdil for Granada. The latter was accompanied
by a guard of honor; and the viceroys of Andalusia,
and the generals on the frontier, were ordered to
furnish him with escorts, and to show him all possible
honor on his journey. In this way he was conducted
in royal state through the country he had entered to
ravage, and was placed in safety in his own dominions.

He was met on the frontier by the principal nobles
and cavaliers of his court, who had been secretly sent
by his mother, the sultana Ayxa, to escort him to the
capital. The heart of Boabdil was lifted up for a
moment, when he found himself on his own territories,
surrounded by Moslem knights, with his own

standards waving over his head; and he began to
doubt the predictions of the astrologers: he soon
found cause, however, to moderate his exultation.
The loyal train which had come to welcome him,
was but scanty in number, and he missed many of
his most zealous and obsequious courtiers. He had
returned, indeed, to his kingdom, but it was no longer
the devoted kingdom he had left. The story of his
vassalage to the christian sovereigns, had been made
use of by his father to ruin him with the people. He
had been represented as a traitor to his country, a
renegado to his faith, and as leagued with the enemies
of both, to subdue the Moslems of Spain to the yoke
of christian bondage. In this way, the mind of the
public had been turned from him; the greater part
of the nobility had thronged round the throne of his
father in the Alhambra; and his mother, the resolute
sultana Ayxa, with difficulty maintained her faction
in the opposite towers of the Alcazaba.

Such was the melancholy picture of affairs given
to Boabdil by the courtiers who had come forth to
meet him. They even informed him that it would
be an enterprise of difficulty and danger to make his
way back to the capital, and regain the little court
which still remained faithful to him in the heart of
the city. The old tiger, Muley Aben Hassan, lay
couched within the Alhambra, and the walls and
gates of the city were strongly guarded by his troops.
Boabdil shook his head, at these tidings. He called
to mind the ill omen of his breaking his lance against
the gate of Elvira, when issuing forth so vain-gloriously

with his army, which he now saw clearly had foreboded
the destruction of that army on which he had
so confidently relied. “Henceforth,” said he, “let
no man have the impiety to scoff at omens.”

Boabdil approached his capital by stealth, and in
the night, prowling about its walls, like an enemy
seeking to destroy, rather than a monarch returning
to his throne. At length he seized upon a posterngate
of the Albaycin,—that part of the city which
had always been in his favor; he passed rapidly
through the streets before the populace were aroused
from their sleep, and reached in safety the fortress
of the Alcazaba. Here he was received into the
embraces of his intrepid mother, and his favorite wife
Morayma. The transports of the latter, on the safe
return of her husband, were mingled with tears; for
she thought of her father, Ali Atar, who had fallen in
his cause, and of her only son, who was left a hostage
in the hands of the christians.

The heart of Boabdil, softened by his misfortunes,
was moved by the changes in every thing round him;
but his mother called up his spirit. “This,” said
she, “is no time for tears and fondness. A king must
think of his sceptre and his throne, and not yield to
softness like common men. Thou hast done well,
my son, in throwing thyself resolutely into Granada:
it must depend upon thyself, whether thou remain
here a king or a captive.”

The old king Muley Aben Hassan had retired to
his couch that night, in one of the strongest towers
of the Alhambra; but his restless anxiety kept him

from repose. In the first watch of the night, he
heard a shout faintly rising from the quarter of the
Albaycin, which is on the opposite side of the deep
valley of the Darro. Shortly afterwards, horsemen
came galloping up the hill that leads to the main gate
of the Alhambra, spreading the alarm that Boabdil
had entered the city and possessed himself of the
Alcazaba.

In the first transports of his rage, the old king
would have struck the messenger to earth. He
hastily summoned his counsellors and commanders,
exhorting them to stand by him in this critical moment;
and, during the night, made every preparation
to enter the Albaycin sword in hand in the morning.

In the mean time, the sultana Ayxa had taken
prompt and vigorous measures to strengthen her
party. The Albaycin was the part of the city filled
by the lower orders. The return of Boabdil was
proclaimed throughout the streets, and large sums
of money were distributed among the populace. The
nobles, assembled in the Alcazaba, were promised
honors and rewards by Boabdil, as soon as he should
be firmly seated on the throne. These well-timed
measures had the customary effect; and, by day-break,
all the motley populace of the Albaycin were
in arms.

A doleful day succeeded. All Granada was a scene
of tumult and horror. Drums and trumpets resounded
in every part; all business was interrupted; the shops
were shut, the doors barricadoed. Armed bands
paraded the streets, some shouting for Boabdil, and

some for Muley Aben Hassan. When they encountered
each other, they fought furiously and without
mercy; every public square became a scene of battle.
The great mass of the lower orders was in favor of
Boabdil, but it was a multitude without discipline or
lofty spirit; part of the people was regularly armed,
but the greater number had sallied forth with the
implements of their trade. The troops of the old
king, among whom were many cavaliers of pride and
valor, soon drove the populace from the squares.
They fortified themselves, however, in the streets
and lanes, which they barricadoed. They made
fortresses of their houses, and fought desperately from
the windows and the roofs, and many a warrior of the
highest blood of Granada was laid low by plebeian
hands and plebeian weapons, in this civic brawl.

It was impossible that such violent convulsions
should last long, in the heart of a city. The people
soon longed for repose, and a return to their peaceful
occupations; and the cavaliers detested these
conflicts with the multitude, in which there were all
the horrors of war without its laurels. By the interference
of the alfaquis, an armistice was at length
effected. Boabdil was persuaded that there was no
dependence upon the inconstant favor of the multitude,
and was prevailed upon to quit a capital where
he could only maintain a precarious seat upon his
throne by a perpetual and bloody struggle. He fixed
his court at the city of Almeria, which was entirely
devoted to him, and which, at that time, vied with
Granada in splendor and importance. This compromise

of grandeur for tranquillity, however, was
sorely against the counsels of his proud-spirited mother,
the sultana Ayxa. Granada appeared, in her eyes,
the only legitimate seat of dominion; and she observed,
with a smile of disdain, that he was not
worthy of being called a monarch, who was not
master of his capital.