University of Virginia Library

36. CHAPTER XXXVI.
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 Cidi Yahye.

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 Cidi Yahye as in a second self, and
the words of his letter sunk 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, communicating the tidings from
Baza, solicited their advice. It was a 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. “Allah
Acbar!” exclaimed he, “God is great; there is
but one God, and Mahomet is his prophet. Return
to my cousin, Cidi Yahye; 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. Cidi Yahye and his fellow-commanders immediately
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 freely, with their arms,
horses, and effects. The inhabitants had their choice,
either to depart with their property, or to dwell in
the suburgs, 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 Cidi Yahye 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 Cidi Yahye 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. Cidi Yahye was entirely subdued
by this fair speech from the illustrious Isabella.
His heart burned with a sudden flame of loyalty towards
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 Abdalla 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
Cidi Yahye.”

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 Cidi Yahye 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.[1]

The veteran Mohammed ben 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 upwards 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 Alpuxarra 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 or 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 a 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 intrusted 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
haughty 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.[2]