The History of the Reign of Ferdinand and Isabella the Catholic — Volume 1

by William Hickling Prescott

Great was the consternation occasioned by the return of the Moorish fugitives to Granada, and loud was the lament through its populous streets; for the pride of many a noble house was laid low on that day, and their king (a thing unprecedented in the annals of the monarchy) was a prisoner in the land of the Christians. "The hostile star of Islam," exclaims an Arabian writer, "now scattered its malignant influences over Spain, and the downfall of the Mussulman empire was decreed."

The sultana Zoraya, however, was not of a temper to waste time in useless lamentation. She was aware that a captive king, who held his title by so precarious a tenure as did her son Abdallah, must soon cease to be a king even in name. She accordingly despatched a numerous embassy to Cordova, with proffers of such a ransom for the prince's liberation, as a despot only could offer, and few despots could have the authority to enforce. [7]

King Ferdinand, who was at Vitoria with the queen, when he received tidings of the victory of Lucena, hastened to the south to determine on the destination of his royal captive. With some show of magnanimity, he declined an interview with Abdallah, until he should have consented to his liberation. A debate of some warmth occurred in the royal council at Cordova, respecting the policy to be pursued; some contending that the Moorish monarch was too valuable a prize to be so readily relinquished, and that the enemy, broken by the loss of their natural leader, would find it difficult to rally under one common head, or to concert any effective movement. Others, and especially the marquis of Cadiz, urged his release, and even the support of his pretensions against his competitor, the old king of Granada; insisting that the Moorish empire would be more effectually shaken by internal divisions, than by any pressure of its enemies from without. The various arguments were submitted to the queen, who still held her court in the north, and who decided for the release of Abdallah, as a measure best reconciling sound policy with generosity to the vanquished. [8]

The terms of the treaty, although sufficiently humiliating to the Moslem prince, were not materially different from those proposed by the sultana Zoraya. It was agreed that a truce, of two years should be extended to Abdallah, and to such places in Granada as acknowledged his authority. In consideration of which, he stipulated to surrender four hundred Christian captives without ransom, to pay twelve thousand doblas of gold annually to the Spanish sovereigns, and to permit a free passage, as well as furnish supplies, to their troops passing through his territories, for the purpose of carrying on the war against that portion of the kingdom which still adhered to his father. Abdallah moreover bound himself to appear when summoned by Ferdinand, and to surrender his own son, with the children of his principal nobility, as sureties for his fulfilment of the treaty. Thus did the unhappy prince barter away his honor and his country's freedom for the possession of immediate, but most precarious sovereignty; a sovereignty, which could scarcely be expected to survive the period when he could be useful to the master whose breath had made him. [9]

The terms of the treaty being thus definitively settled, an interview was arranged to take place between the two monarchs at Cordova. The Castilian courtiers would have persuaded their master to offer his hand for Abdallah to salute, in token of his feudal supremacy; but Ferdinand replied, "Were the king of Granada in his own dominions, I might do this; but not while he is a prisoner in mine." The Moorish prince entered Cordova with an escort of his own knights, and a splendid throng of Spanish chivalry, who had marched out of the city to receive him. When Abdallah entered the royal presence, he would have prostrated himself on his knees; but Ferdinand, hastening to prevent him, embraced him with every demonstration of respect. An Arabic interpreter, who acted as orator, then, expatiated, in florid hyperbole, on the magnanimity and princely qualities of the Spanish king, and the loyalty and good faith of his own master. But Ferdinand interrupted his eloquence, with the assurance that "his panegyric was superfluous, and that he had perfect confidence that the sovereign of Granada would keep his faith as became a true knight and a king." After ceremonies so humiliating to the Moorish prince, notwithstanding the veil of decorum studiously thrown over them, he set out with his attendants for his capital, escorted by a body of Andalusian horse to the frontier, and loaded with costly presents by the Spanish king, and the general contempt of his court. [10]

Notwithstanding the importance of the results in the war of Granada, a detail of the successive steps by which they were achieved would be most tedious and trifling. No siege or single military achievement of great moment occurred until nearly four years from this period, in 1487; although, in the intervening time, a large number of fortresses and petty towns, together with a very extensive tract of territory, were recovered from the enemy. Without pursuing the chronological order of events, it is probable that the end of history will be best attained by presenting a concise view of the general policy pursued by the sovereigns in the conduct of the war.

The Moorish wars under preceding monarchs had consisted of little else than cavalgadas, or inroads into the enemy's territory, [11] which, pouring like a torrent over the land, swept away whatever was upon the surface, but left it in its essential resources wholly unimpaired. The bounty of nature soon repaired the ravages of man, and the ensuing harvest seemed to shoot up more abundantly from the soil, enriched by the blood of the husbandman. A more vigorous system of spoliation was now introduced. Instead of one campaign, the army took the field in spring and autumn, intermitting its efforts only during the intolerable heats of summer, so that the green crop had no time to ripen, ere it was trodden down under the iron heel of war.

The apparatus for devastation was also on a much greater scale than had ever before been witnessed. From the second year of the war, thirty thousand foragers were reserved for this service, which they effected by demolishing farmhouses, granaries, and mills, (which last were exceedingly numerous in a land watered by many small streams,) by eradicating the vines, and laying waste the olive-gardens and plantations of oranges, almonds, mulberries, and all the rich varieties that grew luxuriant in this highly-favored region. This merciless devastation extended for more than two leagues on either side of the line of march. At the same time, the Mediterranean fleet cut off all supplies from the Barbary coast, so that the whole kingdom might be said to be in a state of perpetual blockade. Such and so general was the scarcity occasioned by this system, that the Moors were glad to exchange their Christian captives for provisions, until such ransom was interdicted by the sovereigns, as tending to defeat their own measures. [12]

Still there was many a green and sheltered valley in Granada, which yielded its returns unmolested to the Moorish husbandman; while his granaries were occasionally enriched with the produce of a border foray. The Moors too, although naturally a luxurious people, were patient of suffering, and capable of enduring great privation. Other measures, therefore, of a still more formidable character, became necessary in conjunction with this rigorous system of blockade.

The Moorish towns were for the most part strongly defended, presenting within the limits of Granada, as has been said, more than ten times the number of fortified places that are now scattered over the whole extent of the Peninsula. They stood along the crest of some precipice, or bold sierra, whose natural strength was augmented by the solid masonry with which they were surrounded, and which, however insufficient to hold out against modern artillery, bade defiance to all the enginery of battering warfare known previously to the fifteenth century. It was this strength of fortification, combined with that of their local position, which frequently enabled a slender garrison in these places to laugh to scorn all the efforts of the proudest Castilian armies.