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CONQUEST OF GRANADA. After a ten-years' bloody war, the Moorish kingdom of Granada was conquered. The capital, with the famous castle of Alhambra, was captured . The dethroned Moorish king, Boabdil, robbed of his possessions, sailed to Africa, where he fell in battle. By the terms of their surrender, the Moors were to have the free exercise of their religion. But the promise was not kept.
But he, whose faintest word had once breathed fire into the dullest, had now poured out his spirit upon frigid and lifeless matter. No man answered no man moved. Boabdil alone, clinging to the shadow of hope, turned at last towards the audience.
Before Boabdil could reply, a light and rapid step sped through the glittering arcades; and weeping with joy, and breaking all the Oriental restraints, Amine fell upon his bosom. "My beloved! my king! light of mine eyes! thou hast returned. Welcome for thou art safe." The different form of these several salutations struck Boabdil forcibly.
Admitted to the intimacy of Muley Hassan, with Boabdil, and the queen mother, he had conspired against that monarch; and had lived, at least, to avenge his father upon the royal murderer. He was no less intimate with Boabdil; but steeled against fellowship or affection for all men out of the pale of his faith, he saw in the confidence of the king only the blindness of a victim.
"Will ye suffer a Jew to lead ye, O race of the Prophet?" cried the king. The crowd stood confused and bewildered. Almamen felt his hour was come; he remained silent, his arms folded, his brow erect. "Be there any of the tribes of Moisa amongst the crowd?" cried Boabdil, pursuing his advantage; "if so, let them approach and testify what they know."
Having surrendered the last symbol of power, the unfortunate Boabdil continued on toward the Alpujarras, that he might not behold the entrance of the Christians into his capital. His devoted band of cavaliers followed him in gloomy silence; but heavy sighs burst from their bosoms as shouts of joy and strains of triumphant music were borne on the breeze from the victorious army.
Boabdil el Chico, or Boabdil the Young, as he was called, was the son of Muley Abul Hassan, against whom he had rebelled, and with such effect that, after a bloody battle in the streets of the city, the old king was driven without its walls. His tyranny had caused the people to gather round his son.
The words of Musa were without effect. Boabdil yielded to the general voice; it was determined to capitulate with the Christian sovereigns; and the venerable Abul Kazim was sent forth to the camp empowered to treat for terms.
"Prove to me thy power," said Boabdil, awed less by the words than by the thrilling voice and the impressive aspect of the enchanter. "Is not the king's will my law?" answered Almamen; "be his will obeyed. To-morrow night I await thee." "Where?" Almamen paused a moment, and then whispered a sentence in the king's ear: Boabdil started, and turned pale. "A fearful spot!"
The Abencerrages had supported the claim of Ayesha's rival, Zoraya; and it is said that Boabdil invited the Princes of this clan, some thirty in number, to a friendly conference in the Alhambra, and there had them treacherously beheaded at the fountain. But whether this blood-stain upon his memory is as doubtful as those upon the stones at the fountain, seems an open question.
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