Ferdinand and his generals, certain of support from their base of operations, took new heart; and to the dismay of the besieged huts made of clay and timber began to replace the old tents, and traders to appear with their merchandise of comforts and luxuries, till the camp gradually assumed the air of a permanent settlement or village.

To it amongst other strangers came Franciscan friars from the Holy Land, bearing despatches from the Sultan of Egypt, in which he complained of the destruction that was being wrought against the Mahometans in Spain. Unless such hostility ceased, he declared his intention of venting his wrath on any Christians he might find in Palestine. The sovereigns, in answer, protested their right to reconquer the kingdom of Granada which had belonged to their ancestors; but they expressed their willingness to deal kindly by such Moors as proved themselves good subjects. Not content with explaining the situation by letter they even sent an embassy to the Sultan some years later, with Peter Martyr, the young Italian noble who had been an eye-witness of so much of the war, at its head; and his eloquence succeeded in establishing friendly relations.

In November, 1489, Isabel herself visited the camp; and Cid Haya, with that courtesy that often lent so fine a shade to mediæval warfare, granted a truce that she might go and inspect the farthest trenches and outposts in safety. Pulgar declares enthusiastically that her advent changed the whole spirit of the campaign, putting an end to the vindictive bitterness that had hitherto marked the contest on either side. Moors and Christians alike were weary of fighting; and Cid Haya, who had none of Hamet “El Zegri’s” fierce intolerance, recognized that he was waging a lost cause and decided to make good terms while he was in a position to do so. At the beginning of December, Baeza capitulated on the promise of security of life and property for all its defenders and inhabitants; with the proviso that they might live if they chose as Castilian subjects, keeping their own religion and laws.

Cid Haya himself was received by the sovereigns with such marked attention and honour that he was speedily led to abjure his faith and become a Christian, marrying in later years one of the Queen’s favourite ladies-in-waiting. His first service to his new masters was to visit his brother-in-law, “El Zagal,” at Guadix and to persuade him of the futility of further resistance. Almeria had already surrendered, and but for Guadix no independent city of importance remained save Granada, with whom there could be no hope of any alliance.

“El Zagal,” bowing his pride to necessity, agreed to a treaty of capitulation that left him the title “King of Andaraz” with the district of that name and a considerable revenue; but he did not possess Cid Haya’s light-hearted temperament, and soon found life in Spain intolerable under the new conditions. Determined to break with all that could remind him of his lost glory, he sold his estates to Ferdinand and sailed to Africa; but he was to experience worse treatment at the hands of co-religionists than from his Christian foes. A tale of his wealth had spread abroad, and the King of Fez at once proceeded to rob and imprison him. When at length he gained his freedom, “El Zagal,” the once valiant warrior king, whose name had been the terror of the Andalusian border, had fallen to beggary, and blind and ragged sought alms from door to door, until a man who had known him in prosperity took pity on him and granted him an asylum.

With the conquest of eastern Granada, the Moorish war entered on its last phase. Boabdil was nominally at peace with Castile; but pretexts were not lacking to embroil him afresh, as soon as the close of the struggle with his uncle left Ferdinand and Isabel free to embark on a fresh campaign.

By the terms of the capitulation of Loja Boabdil had agreed to surrender his claims to the throne on the capture of Guadix, and to retire to that city with the title of Duke. The sovereigns now demanded the fulfilment of this promise; but the outlook had changed since the days when the young Sultan had been merely doubtful “King of the Albaycin,” and knew not if the next week would find him in exile. Lord of the whole of Granada, the prospect of the Duchy of Guadix was not alluring to his ambitions; nor, had he wished to surrender, was he in a position to do so. Raised to the throne by all the martial element in the kingdom, that had not bowed the knee before the Cross, his very life depended on his popularity with the fierce warriors of the Alpujarras and the rest of the Moorish soldiery, who for one reason or another were pledged to maintain the city’s independence.

BOABDIL, LAST KING OF GRANADA
FROM ALTAMIRA’S “HISTORIA DE ESPAÑOLA”

Thus it was that the Christian demands were met by defiance, and the sovereigns provided with an excuse for prosecuting the war to its bitter end. The Moorish messengers had found them in Seville, whither they had gone in April, 1490, to celebrate the betrothal of their daughter Isabel with Don Alfonso, the heir to the Portuguese throne; but, this concluded, Ferdinand collected an army and, crossing the Sierra Elvira, proceeded to ravage the plains of Granada. Within sight of the city he knighted his son Prince John, on whom so many hopes were centred, that in this last act of the crusade, inheritance of his race, the boy of twelve might receive initiation into a great future.