University of Virginia Library

44. CHAPTER XLIV.
How King Ferdinand treated the people of Gaudix—
and how El Zagal finished his regal career.

Scarcely had Boabdil ensconced himself in his
capital, when king Ferdinand, at the head of seven
thousand horse and twenty thousand foot, again appeared
in the vega. He had set out in all haste from
Cordova, to the relief of Salobreña; but, hearing on
his march that the siege was raised, he turned with
his army to make a second ravage round the walls
of devoted Granada. His present forage lasted fifteen
days, in the course of which every thing that had
escaped his former desolating visit was destroyed,
and scarce a green thing or a living animal was left
on the face of the land. The Moors sallied frequently,
and fought desperately, in defence of their fields;
but the work of destruction was accomplished—and
Granada, once the queen of gardens, was left surrounded
by a desert.

From hence Ferdinand marched to crush a conspiracy
which had lately manifested itself in the cities
of Guadix, Baza, and Almeria. These recently conquered
places had entered into secret correspondence
with king Boabdil, inviting him to march to their
gates, promising to rise upon the christian garrisons,
seize upon the citadels, and surrender themselves
into his power. The marques of Villena had re

ceived notice of the conspiracy, and had suddenly
thrown himself, with a large force, into Guadix.
Under pretence of making a review of the inhabitants,
he made them sally forth into the fields before
the city. When the whole Moorish population capable
of bearing arms was thus without the walls, he
ordered the gates to be closed. He then permitted
them to enter, two by two and three by three, and
to take forth their wives, children, and effects. The
houseless Moors were fain to make themselves temporary
hovels, in the gardens and orchards about the
city; they were clamorous in their complaints at
being thus excluded from their homes, but were told
they must wait with patience until the charges against
them could be investigated, and the pleasure of the
king be known.[1]

When Ferdinand arrived at Guadix, he found the
unhappy Moors in their cabins among the orchards.
They complained bitterly of the deception that had
been practised upon them, and implored permission
to return into the city, and live peaceably in their
dwellings, as had been promised them in their articles
of capitulation.

King Ferdinand listened graciously to their complaints:
“My friends,” said he in reply, “I am informed
that there has been a conspiracy among you
to kill my alcayde and garrison, and to take part
with my enemy the king of Granada. I shall make
a thorough investigation of this conspiracy. Those

among you who shall be proved innocent shall be
restored to their dwellings, but the guilty shall incur
the penalty of their offences. As I wish however to
proceed with mercy as well as justice, I now give
you your choice, either to depart at once without
further question, going wherever you please, and
taking with you your families and effects, under an
assurance of safety; or to deliver up those who are
guilty, not one of whom, I give you my royal word,
shall escape punishment.”

When the people of Guadix heard these words,
they communed among themselves; and as most of
them (says the worthy Agapida) were either culpable
or feared to be considered so, they accepted the
alternative, and departed sorrowfully, they and their
wives and their little ones. “Thus,” in the words
of that excellent and cotemporary historian, Andres
Bernaldez, commonly called the curate of Los Palacios—“thus
did the king deliver Guadix from the
hands of the enemies of our holy faith, after seven
hundred and seventy years that it had been in their
possession, ever since the time of Roderick the
Goth; and this was one of the mysteries of our
Lord, who would not consent that the city should
remain longer in the power of the Moors:”—a pious
and sage remark, which is quoted with peculiar approbation
by the worthy Agapida.

King Ferdinand offered similar alternatives to the
Moors of Baza, Almeria, and other cities accused of
participation in this conspiracy; who generally preferred
to abandon their homes, rather than incur the

risk of an investigation. Most of them relinquished
Spain, as a country where they could no longer live
in security and independence, and departed with
their families for Africa; such as remained were suffered
to live in villages and hamlets, and other unwalled
places.[2]

While Ferdinand was thus occupied at Guadix,
dispensing justice and mercy, and receiving cities in
exchange, the old monarch Muley Abdalla, surnamed
El Zagal, appeared before him. He was haggard
with care, and almost crazed with passion. He had
found his little territory of Andarax, and his two
thousand subjects, as difficult to govern as had been
the distracted kingdom of Granada. The charm,
which had bound the Moors to him, was broken
when he appeared in arms under the banner of Ferdinand.
He had returned from his inglorious campaign
with his petty army of two hundred men, followed
by the execrations of the people of Granada,
and the secret repining of those he had led into the
field. No sooner had his subjects heard of the successes
of Boabdil el Chico, than they had seized
their arms, assembled tumultuously, declared for the
young monarch, and threatened the life of El Zagal.[3]
The unfortunate old king had with difficulty evaded
their fury; and this last lesson seemed entirely to
have cured him of his passion for sovereignty. He
now entreated Ferdinand to purchase the towns and

castles and other possessions which had been granted
to him; offering them at a low rate, and begging safe
passage for himself and his followers to Africa. King
Ferdinand graciously complied with his wishes. He
purchased of him three-and-twenty towns and villages
in the valleys of Andarax and Alhaurin, for
which he gave him five millions of maravedies. El
Zagal relinquished his right to one-half of the salinas
or salt-pits of Maleha, in favor of his brother-in-law
Cidi Yahye. Having thus disposed of his petty empire
and possessions, he packed up all his treasure,
of which he had a great amount, and, followed by
many Moorish families, passed over to Africa.[4]

And here let us cast an eye beyond the present
period of our chronicle, and trace the remaining
career of El Zagal. His short and turbulent reign,
and disastrous end, would afford a wholesome lesson
to unprincipled ambition, were not all ambition of
the kind fated to be blind to precept and example.
When he arrived in Africa, instead of meeting with
kindness and sympathy, he was seized and thrown
into prison by the king of Fez, as though he had been
his vassal. He was accused of being the cause of
the dissensions and downfall of the kingdom of Granada;
and the accusation being proved to the satisfaction
of the king of Fez, he condemned the unhappy
El Zagal to perpetual darkness. A basin of
glowing copper was passed before his eyes, which
effectually destroyed his sight. His wealth, which

had probably been the secret cause of these cruel
measures, was confiscated and seized upon by his
oppressor; and El Zagal was thrust forth, blind,
helpless, and destitute, upon the world. In this
wretched condition, the late Moorish monarch
groped his way through the regions of Tingitania,
until he reached the city of Velez de Gomera. The
king of Velez had formerly been his ally, and felt
some movement of compassion at his present altered
and abject state. He gave him food and raiment, and
suffered him to remain unmolested in his dominions.
Death, which so often hurries off the prosperous and
happy from the midst of untasted pleasures, spares
on the other hand the miserable, to drain the last
drop of his cup of bitterness. El Zagal dragged out
a wretched existence of many years, in the city of
Velez. He wandered about blind and disconsolate,
an object of mingled scorn and pity, and bearing
above his raiment a parchment on which was written
in Arabic, “This is the unfortunate king of Andalusia.”[5]