37. CHAPTER XXXVII.
Submission of El Zagal to the Castilian Sovereigns.
Evil tidings never fail by the way, through lack
of messengers; they are wafted on the wings of the
wind, and it is as if the very birds of the air would
bear them to the ear of the unfortunate. The old
king El Zagal buried himself in the recesses of his
castle, to hide himself from the light of day, which
no longer shone prosperously upon him; but every
hour brought missives, thundering at the gate, with
the tale of some new disaster. Fortress after fortress
had laid its keys at the feet of the christian sovereigns:
strip by strip, of warrior mountain and green
fruitful valley, was torn from his domains, and added
to the territories of the conquerors. Scarcely a remnant
remained to him, except a tract of the Alpuxarras,
and the noble cities of Guadix and Almeria.
No one any longer stood in awe of the fierce old
monarch; the terror of his frown had declined with
his power. He had arrived at that stage of adversity,
when a man's friends feel emboldened to tell
him hard truths, and to give him unpalatable advice;
and when his spirit is bowed down to listen quietly,
if not meekly.
El Zagal was seated on his divan, his whole spirit
absorbed in rumination on the transitory nature of
human glory, when his kinsman and brother-in-law,
the prince Cidi Yahye, was announced. That illustrious
convert to the true faith and the interests of
the conquerors of his country, had hastened to Guadix
with all the fervor of a new proselyte, eager to
prove his zeal in the service of Heaven and the Castilian
sovereigns, by persuading the old monarch to
abjure his faith and surrender his possessions.
Cidi Yahye still bore the guise of a Moslem, for
his conversion was as yet a secret. The stern heart
of El Zagal softened at beholding the face of a kinsman,
in this hour of adversity. He folded his cousin
to his bosom, and gave thanks to Allah that amidst all
his troubles he had still a friend and counsellor on
whom he might rely.
Cidi Yahye soon entered upon the real purpose
of his mission. He represented to El Zagal the desperate
state of affairs, and the irretrievable decline
of Moorish power in the kingdom of Granada.
“Fate,” said he, “is against our arms; our ruin is
written in the heavens. Remember the prediction of
the astrologers, at the birth of your nephew Boabdil.
We had hoped that their prediction was accomplished
by his capture at Lucena; but it is now evident
that the stars portended not a temporary and passing
reverse of the kingdom, but a final overthrow. The
constant succession of disasters which have attended
our efforts, show that the sceptre of Granada is
doomed to pass into the hands of the christian monarchs.
Such,” concluded the prince emphatically,
and with a profound and pious reverence, “such is
the almighty will of God!”
El Zagal listened to these words in mute attention,
without so much as moving a muscle of his face, or
winking an eyelid. When the prince had concluded,
he remained for a long time silent and pensive; at
length, heaving a profound sigh from the very bottom
of his heart, “Alahuma subahana hu!” exclaimed
he, “the will of God be done! Yes, my cousin, it is
but too evident that such is the will of Allah; and
what he wills, he fails not to accomplish. Had he not
decreed the fall of Granada, this arm and this scimitar
would have maintained it.”[1]
“What then remains,” said Cidi Yahye, “but to
draw the most advantage from the wreck of empire
that is left you? To persist in a war is to bring complete
desolation upon the land, and ruin and death
upon its faithful inhabitants. Are you disposed to
yield up your remaining towns to your nephew El
Chico, that they may augment his power, and derive
protection from his alliance with the christian sovereigns?”
The eye of El Zagal flashed fire at this suggestion.
He grasped the hilt of his scimitar, and gnashed his
teeth in fury. “Never,” cried he, “will I make
terms with that recreant and slave! Sooner would I
see the banners of the christian monarchs floating
above my walls, than they should add to the possessions
of the vassal Boabdil!”
Cidi Yahye immediately siezed upon this idea, and
urged El Zagal to make a frank and entire surrender:
“Trust,” said he, “to the magnanimity of the
Castilian sovereigns; they will doubtless grant you
high and honorable terms. It is better to yield to
them as friends, what they must infallibly and before
long wrest from you as enemies; for such, my cousin,
is the almighty will of God!”
“Alahuma subahana hu!” repeated El Zagal, “the
will of God be done!” So the old monarch bowed
his haughty neck, and agreed to surrender his territories
to the enemies of his faith, rather than suffer
them to augment the Moslem power under the sway
of his nephew.
Cidi Yahye now returned to Baza, empowered by
El Zagal to treat on his behalf with the christian
sovereigns. The prince felt a species of exultation,
as he expatiated on the rich relics of empire which
he was authorized to cede. There was a great part
of that line of mountains which extends from the
metropolis to the Mediterranean sea, with their
series of beautiful green valleys, like precious emeralds
set in a golden chain. Above all, there were
Guadix and Almeria, two of the most inestimable
jewels in the crown of Granada.
In return for these possessions, and for the claim
of El Zagal to the rest of the kingdom, the sovereigns
received him into their friendship and alliance,
and gave him in perpetual inheritance the territory
of Andarax and the valley of Alhaurin in the
Alpuxarras, with half of the salinas or salt-pits of
Maleha. He was to enjoy the title of king of Andarax,
with two thousand Mudexares, or conquered
Moors, for subjects; and his revenues were to be
made up to the sum of four millions of marevedies.
[2]
All these he was to hold, as a vassal of the Castilian
crown.
These arrangements being made, Cidi Yahye returned
with them to Muley Abdalla; and it was concerted
that the ceremony of surrender and homage
should take place at the city of Almeria.
On the 17th of December, king Ferdinand departed
from Baza with a part of his army, and the queen
soon followed with the remainder. Ferdinand passed
in triumph by several of the newly-acquired towns,
exulting in these trophies of his policy rather than
his valor. As he drew near to Almeria, the Moorish
king came forth to meet him, accompanied by the
prince Cidi Yahye, and a number of the principal
inahbitants on horseback. The fierce brow of El
Zagal was clouded with a kind of forced humility;
but there was an impatient curl of the lip, with now
and then a swelling of the bosom and an indignant
breathing from the distended nostril. It was evident
he considered himself conquered, not by the power
of man, but by the hand of Heaven; and, while he
bowed to the decrees of fate, it galled his proud
spirit to have to humble himself before its mortal
agent. As he approached the christian king, he
alighted from his horse, and advanced to kiss his
hand in token of homage. Ferdinand, however, respected
the royal title which the Moor had held, and
would not permit the ceremony; but, bending from
his saddle, graciously embraced him, and requested
him to remount his steed.
[3]
Several courteous speeches
passed between them; and the fortress and city
of Almeria, and all the remaining territories of El
Zagal, were delivered up in form. When all was
accomplished, the old warrior Moor retired to the
mountains with a handful of adherents, to seek his
petty territory of Andarax, to bury his humiliation
from the world, and to console himself with the
shadowy title of a king.
[4]
