The terms to which both sides finally agreed, besides guaranteeing to the inhabitants of Granada the safety of their lives and property, granted them also the free exercise of their religion, laws, and customs. They were to speak their own language, keep their own schools, and appoint their own judges and priests, submitting to no Christian authority save that of the Governor-General of the city. For three years they were to pay no taxes, and after that date none that should exceed those that had been ordinarily exacted by their Mahometan rulers. These rights were to be enjoyed by Jews as well as Moors; while the Christian captives then in the city were to be exchanged for an equal number of Moorish slaves. Above all Boabdil stipulated that no partisan or servant of “El Zagal” should be allowed a share in the government.
The surface value of these conditions was fair enough; treacherously fair, according to the Moorish warriors still disinclined for peace.
“If you think,” exclaimed one of them, “that the Christians will remain faithful to what they have promised, or that their sovereign will prove as generous a conqueror as he has been a valiant enemy, you deceive yourselves.”
His contemptuous refusal to have part or parcel in the transaction was echoed through the streets.
“Traitors and cowards all!” cried an old dervish, gathering behind him the more excitable element of the town; and soon a mob was beating on the gates of the Alhambra.
Boabdil succeeded in restoring order; but the fear of another riot made him hastily dispatch a letter to Ferdinand and Isabel, asking them in view of his critical position to take possession of the town some days earlier than they had settled. His interest in smoothing out all difficulties is explained by the secret stipulations affixed to the general terms of surrender. By these he and his immediate relations were to keep the lands that already formed their private patrimony, while he himself was to receive in addition the lordship and revenue of a large district in the Alpujarras, the sovereigns paying him the sum of thirty thousand castellanos on the day of their entry.
Thus Boabdil hoped to buy peace, and in the guise of a territorial magnate to free himself from the unlucky star that had haunted his path as King.[[3]] On the 2d of January, 1492, at the signal of a cannon fired from the Alhambra he left for ever the palace that had been the scene of so many vicissitudes in his life. At the same moment the Christian army in festival attire, with banners flying and amid the blare of trumpets issued from the gates of Santa Fé; the Cardinal of Spain and Don Gutierre de Cardenas leading the triumphal march that was to end at last in the goal of all their ambitions.
[3]. Boabdil, like his uncle “El Zagal,” finally sold his patrimony to the Catholic sovereigns and sailed to Africa. He was killed in a battle some years later fighting on behalf of the King of Fez against an African tribe.
The two Kings met on the banks of the Genil, where Boabdil would have knelt to kiss the other’s hand, had not Ferdinand with quick courtesy prevented him. “Take these, Señor, for I and all in the city are thine,” exclaimed the Moor, as in profound melancholy he yielded up the keys of his capital. Then he passed on his way. As the turrets of the Alhambra grew dim behind him, the vanguard of the Christian army crossed its threshhold; and Ferdinand and Isabel without the gate saw raised on the Tower of Colmares, first, the silver cross that had been blessed at Rome, and then the royal banner and the standard of Santiago.
“Granada! Granada! for the sovereigns Don Fernando and Doña Isabel,” cried the king-at-arms in a loud voice; and the Queen falling on her knees and all with her, the solemn chant of the Te Deum rose to Heaven. The object of ten years of arduous warfare was achieved, the dream of eight centuries realized; and none of those who knelt in heartfelt thankfulness doubted that the gift was of God.