University of Virginia Library

1. CHAPTER I.
Of the Kingdom of Granada, and the tribute which it
paid to the Castilian crown.

The history of those bloody and disastrous wars,
which have caused the downfall of mighty empires,
(observes Fray Antonio Agapida,) has ever been considered
a study highly delectable, and full of precious
edification. What then must be the history of
a pious crusade, waged by the most Catholic of sovereigns,
to rescue from the power of the Infidels one
of the most beautiful but benighted regions of the
globe? Listen then, while, from the solitude of my
cell, I relate the events of the conquest of Granada,
where Christian knight and turbaned Infidel disputed,
inch by inch, the fair land of Andalusia, until
the crescent, that symbol of heathenish abomination,
was cast down, and the blessed cross, the tree of our
redemption, erected in its stead.

Nearly eight hundred years were past and gone,
since the Arabian invaders had sealed the perdition
of Spain, by the defeat of Don Roderick, the last
of her Gothic kings. Since that disastrous event,

kingdom after kingdom had been gradually recovered
by the Christian princes, until the single, but powerful,
territory of Granada alone remained under
domination of the Moors.

This renowned kingdom was situated in the
southern part of Spain, bordering on the Mediterranean
sea, and defended on the land side by lofty
and rugged mountains, locking up within their embraces,
deep, rich, and verdant valleys, where the
sterility of the surrounding heights was repaid by
prodigal fertility. The city of Granada lay in the
centre of the kingdom, sheltered as it were in the
lap of the Sierra Nevada, or chain of snowy mountains.
It covered two lofty hills, and a deep valley
which divides them, through which flows the river
Darro. One of these hills was crowned by the
royal palace and fortress of the Alhambra, capable
of containing forty thousand men within its walls
and towers. There is a Moorish tradition, that the
king who built this mighty pile, was skilled in the
occult sciences, and furnished himself with gold and
silver for the purpose, by means of alchemy.[1] Certainly,
never was there an edifice accomplished in a
superior style of barbaric magnificence; and the
stranger who, even at the present day, wanders
among its silent and deserted courts and ruined
halls, gazes with astonishment at its gilded and fretted
domes and luxurious decorations, still retaining
their brilliancy and beauty in defiance of the ravages
of time.

Opposite to the hill on which stood the Alhambra,
was its rival hill, on the summit of which was a
spacious plain, covered with houses and crowded
with inhabitants. It was commanded by a fortress
called the Alcazaba. The declivities and skirts of
these hills were covered with houses to the number
of seventy thousand, separated by narrow streets
and small squares, according to the custom of Moorish
cities. The houses had interior courts and gardens,
refreshed by fountains and running streams, and
set out with oranges, citrons, and pomegranates, so
that as the edifices of the city rose above each other
on the sides of the hill, they presented a mingled
appearance of city and grove, delightful to the eye.
The whole was surrounded by high walls, three
leagues in circuit, with twelve gates, and fortified
by a thousand and thirty towers. The elevation of
the city, and the neighborhood of the Sierra Nevada
crowned with perpetual snows, tempered the fervid
rays of summer; so that, while other cities were
panting with the sultry and stifling heat of the dog-days,
the most salubrious breezes played through the
marble halls of Granada.

The glory of the city, however, was its vega or
plain, which spread out to a circumference of thirty-seven
leagues, surrounded by lofty mountains. It
was a vast garden of delight, refreshed by numerous
fountains, and by the silver windings of the Xenil.
The labor and ingenuity of the Moors had diverted
the waters of this river into thousands of rills and
streams, and diffused them over the whole surface

of the plain. Indeed, they had wrought up this
happy region to a degree of wonderful prosperity,
and took a pride in decorating it, as if it had been a
favorite mistress. The hills were clothed with orchards
and vineyards, the valleys embroidered with
gardens, and the wide plains covered with waving
grain. Here were seen in profusion the orange, the
citron, the fig, and pomegranate, with great plantations
of mulberry trees, from which was produced
the finest of silk. The vine clambered from tree to
tree; the grapes hung in rich clusters about the
peasant's cottage, and the groves were rejoiced by
the perpetual song of the nightingale. In a word,
so beautiful was the earth, so pure the air, and so
serene the sky, of this delicious region, that the
Moors imagined the paradise of their Prophet to be
situated in that part of the heaven which overhung
the kingdom of Granada.[2]

This rich and populous territory had been left in
quiet possession of the Infidels, on condition of an
annual tribute to the sovereign of Castile and Leon,
of two thousand doblas or pistoles of gold, and sixteen
hundred Christian captives; or, in default of
captives, an equal number of Moors to be surrendered
as slaves; all to be delivered in the city of
Cordova.[3]

As the era at which this chronicle commences,
Ferdinand and Isabella, of glorious and happy memory,
reigned over the united kingdoms of Castile,

Leon, and Arragon; and Muley Aben Hassan sat on
the throne of Granada. This Muley Aben Hassan
had succeeded to his father Ismael in 1465, while
Henry IV., brother and immediate predecessor of
queen Isabella, was king of Castile and Leon. He
was of the illustrious lineage of Mohammed Aben
Alaman, the first Moorish king of Granada, and was
the most potent of his line. He had in fact augmented
in power, in consequence of the fall of other
Moorish kingdoms, which had been conquered by
the Christians. Many cities and strong places of
those kingdoms, which lay contiguous to Granada,
had refused to submit to Christian vassalage, and had
sheltered themselves under the protection of Muley
Aben Hassan. His territories had thus increased in
wealth, extent, and population, beyond all former
example, and contained fourteen cities and ninety-seven
fortified towns, besides numerous unwalled
towns and villages, defended by formidable castles.
The spirit of Muley Aben Hassan swelled with his
possessions.

The tribute of money and captives had been
regularly paid by his father Ismael; and Muley
Aben Hassan had, on one occasion, attended personally
in Cordova, at the payment. He had witnessed
the taunts and sneers of the haughty Castilians;
and so indignant was the proud son of Afric
at what he considered a degradation of his race, that
his blood boiled whenever he recollected the humiliating
scene.

When he came to the throne, he ceased all payment
of the tribute; and it was sufficient to put him
in a transport of rage, only to mention it. “He
was a fierce and warlike Infidel,” says the Catholic
Fray Antonio Agapida; “his bitterness against the
holy Christian faith had been signalized in battle,
during the life-time of his father; and the same diabolical
spirit of hostility was apparent in his ceasing
to pay this most righteous tribute.”