The Boys' Book of Rulers

Meanwhile, the Princess Isabella was nearly sacrificed to the ambition of her half-brother, who was king of Castile. The beautiful princess, who had now been brought from her retirement in Arevalo to her brother’s court, had many suitors for her hand. Her half-brother, King Henry, promised his sister in marriage to a rich but wicked old nobleman; and great preparations were made for the wedding. The anguish of the poor Princess Isabella was so great that she shut herself up in her apartment, praying to God, with groans and tears, that He would deliver her from this impending doom. Still, the wedding preparations went on. Meanwhile, the wicked old nobleman set out from his palace to claim his youthful and beautiful bride. But God had heard the prayers of the afflicted princess; and, as the aged bridegroom reached a small village, at the end of the first day’s travel, he was suddenly seized with an attack of quinsy, which terminated his life.

The nobles of Castile now entreated Isabella to allow herself to be proclaimed Queen of Castile, in opposition to her brother, whom they all hated. Her other brother, Alfonso, who would have been heir, had previously died. But Isabella was too noble to seek such revenge upon her cruel brother; but the nobles forced the king to declare her his successor to the throne, and to promise that she should not be forced to marry against her will.

The king of Portugal now desired to secure Isabella for his bride; and her brother threatened to imprison her unless she would yield. As overtures had been made by the young and handsome Prince Ferdinand of Aragon for the hand of the fair Isabella, and as her heart was also inclined towards this handsome prince, she determined, in spite of her brother, to accept the proffered hand of Ferdinand. The marriage articles were signed on the 7th of January, 1469. Isabella was aided by the archbishop of Toledo, who raised a regiment of dragoons, and carried her in triumph to Valladolid, where she was greeted by the people with the wildest enthusiasm. Meanwhile, her brother attempted to prevent Ferdinand from entering Castile to marry Isabella. As the father of Ferdinand was so pressed by a war with his nobles, he could not afford his son an armed escort sufficient to secure his safety. So Ferdinand resolved to go disguised as a merchant. With half a dozen companions, Ferdinand started upon this adventuresome expedition to secure his lovely bride, in spite of hostile foes. Amidst many perils they pressed on their way. One night, at an inn, they lost their purse, containing all their money. At length they were met by an escort, sent by Isabella for their protection. The fair princess, with her little court, was at Valladolid. Ferdinand, accompanied by four attendants, rode privately to Valladolid, where he was received by the bishop of Toledo, and conducted to the presence of Isabella. The young prince was very handsome, tall and fair, with an intelligent countenance and intellectual brow. He was eighteen years of age. He was well educated, and of temperate habits. He was graceful and courtly in manner, and seemed a fitting mate for the beautiful princess of nineteen, of whom a contemporary writer says, “She was the handsomest lady whom I ever beheld, and the most gracious in her manners.”

Isabella was highly educated for those times, and spoke the Castilian language with grace and purity. After a brief lover’s interview of two hours, Ferdinand returned to Duenas, where he had left his companions. Preparations were immediately made for the marriage, which was solemnized at the palace of one of the nobles in Valladolid, on the morning of the 19th of October, 1469. Ferdinand, having lost his slender purse by the way, was without money; and Isabella, being a fugitive from her brother’s court, was also without means. But the royal couple readily borrowed the money necessary to defray the expenses of the wedding. King Henry now determined to cast aside Isabella, and place upon the throne Joanna, the daughter of his second wife. This was a blow to Isabella, for now the court of Castile, aided by the king of France, were combined against her. Ferdinand and Isabella held their little court at Duenas, in humble style. In 1474, the brother of Isabella, Henry IV., king of Castile, died, and she was proclaimed queen. Isabella was at that time in Segovia. Attended by an imposing retinue, she rode upon a beautiful steed, whose bridle was held by two high officers of the crown, and she was escorted to her seat upon the splendid throne, which had been erected in one of the public squares of the city. As the people gazed with admiration upon their beautiful queen, a herald cried, —

“Castile, Castile, for the king Don Ferdinand, and his consort Dona Isabella, queen proprietor of these kingdoms!”

The queen took the oath of office, and then repaired to the cathedral, to pray at the altar. Ferdinand was at this time in Aragon, and when he returned he was greatly displeased with the document prepared by the dignitaries of Castile, in which Isabella alone was declared heir to the throne of Castile, but Ferdinand was associated with her in the performance of many acts of royalty. But, persuaded by his wife, he agreed to submit.

Alfonso V., the king of Portugal, now invaded Castile. Ferdinand and Isabella raised an army and met the foe at Toro. The powerful bishop of Toledo, exasperated by the independence of opinion which Ferdinand and Isabella displayed, whom he had supposed would be pliant tools in his hands, joined Alfonso against them. The strife was too desperate to last long. There was a hand-to-hand fight along the entire line. At length a storm arose. A dark night came down upon the conflicting hosts. A deluge of rain fell, and the field was flooded with mingled blood and water. The Portuguese were utterly routed. Ferdinand displayed great humanity to his prisoners, furnishing them with food, clothing, and a safe return to their own country.

Isabella was awaiting the issue of the battle at Tordisillas, twenty miles above on the river. When she received tidings of the victory, she ordered a procession to the Church of St. Paul, as an expression of her gratitude to God, and she herself walked barefoot in the garb of a penitent. In a few months, the entire kingdom of Castile acknowledged the supremacy of Ferdinand and Isabella.

In 1479, the king of Aragon died, leaving the kingdoms of Aragon and Navarre to his son Ferdinand. Aragon, Castile, and Navarre, being thus united under these two illustrious monarchs, the great Spanish monarchy was thereby founded.

Ferdinand and Isabella now commenced the enterprise of conquering Granada, thus expelling the Moors from their last foothold in Spain. Malaga, on the coast of the Mediterranean, was one of the principal Moorish towns. The Moors were aware of the importance of this position, and had strongly fortified it. The Moors were as brave as the Christians, and were led by famous chieftains. In April, 1487, Ferdinand, at the head of fifty thousand men, arrived before Malaga, and commenced its siege. There were continual ambuscades, and nightly sallies. One day, while Ferdinand was dining in his tent, which commanded a view of the field of conflict, he perceived a party of Christians, who had been sent to fortify an eminence, retreating in confusion, pursued by the Moors. King Ferdinand leaped upon his horse, not delaying for any defensive armor, rallied his men, and charged against the enemy. Having thrown his lance, he endeavored to draw his sword from its scabbard. But the sword held fast, the scabbard having been by some accident, indented. Just then several Moors surrounded him. The king would have been slain had not two brave cavaliers rushed to his rescue. The nobles remonstrated with the king for so risking his life, but Ferdinand unselfishly answered, —

“I cannot stop to calculate chances, when my subjects are perilling their lives for my sake.”

After a siege of ten days, one of the outposts of Malaga was captured by the Spaniards, who now pressed triumphantly forward to assault the city itself. Ferdinand first attempted to induce the Moors to capitulate, by generous offers, to the commander. But he loyally replied, “I am stationed here to defend the place to the last extremity. The Christian king cannot offer a bribe large enough to induce me to betray my trust.” Ferdinand then encompassed the city by sea and by land. Queen Isabella joined him, and her presence inspired the Spaniards with fresh courage. When she arrived with a brilliant train of ladies and cavaliers, an imposing escort was sent to meet her, and she was conducted to the encampment with great magnificence of parade, and many demonstrations of joy.

The assault was now renewed more fiercely than ever. Famine at length caused great suffering amongst the Moors. They had consumed most of their ammunition, while the Spanish army was constantly re-enforced by new volunteers. King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella maintained strict religious discipline in their camp. Neither oaths nor gambling was allowed, and the rites of the Roman Catholic Church were performed with imposing ceremony. Gradually the Christians gained ground. They succeeded in blowing up one of the towers, thereby obtaining entrance into the city. The citizens of Malaga, suffering from pestilence and famine, had been reduced to living upon the flesh of horses, dogs, and cats. Everywhere the most appalling misery was seen. Many were dying in the streets. In view of their sufferings, Hamet Zeli, the Moorish commander, gave the citizens permission to make the best terms they could with their conqueror. Ferdinand would listen to nothing, however, but unconditional surrender. At length the citizens sent a deputation to Ferdinand, declaring that they were willing to resign to him the city, the fortifications, and all the property, if he would spare their lives, and give them their freedom. “If these terms are refused,” they added, “we will take the six hundred Christian captives, who are in our hands, and hang them like dogs on the battlements. We will then enclose our old men, women, and children in the fortress, set fire to the town, and sell our lives as dearly as possible, in the attempt to cut our way through our enemies. Thus if you gain a victory, it shall be such a one as will make the name of Malaga ring throughout the world, to ages yet unborn.”

In answer, Ferdinand replied, “If a single hair of a Christian’s head is harmed, I will put to the sword every man, woman, and child in the city.”

The citizens in hopeless despair, cast themselves upon the mercy of Ferdinand, unconditionally surrendering the city.

On the 18th day of August, 1487, the Spanish army, headed by Ferdinand and Isabella, with great military and ecclesiastical pomp, entered the city, and repaired to the cathedral, where the Te Deum was for the first time performed within its walls. The Christian captives were liberated from the Moorish dungeons. They presented a dreadful spectacle, which drew tears from all eyes. This band of sufferers, many of whom had languished in dark cells for fifteen years, were brought forth, haggard, emaciated, and heavily manacled with chains. Being freed from their fetters, Ferdinand and Isabella addressed to them kind words of sympathy, and dismissed them with rich gifts.

The heroic Moorish chieftain, who had so gallantly defended the city, was brought loaded with chains before his conqueror. Upon being questioned why he had so long persisted, he replied, “I was commissioned to defend the place to the last extremity. Had I been properly supported, I would have died sooner than have surrendered.”

Then came the doom of the Moors. The entire population of the city, amounting to about twenty thousand, were condemned to slavery. Men, women, and children were alike sentenced by the Christians. One-third were sent to Africa in exchange for Christians imprisoned there. Another portion were sold to the highest bidder, to procure money to defray the expenses of the war. The Pope at Rome received one hundred Moorish soldiers. The Moorish girls were renowned for their great beauty; fifty of the most beautiful of these were sent by Isabella as a gift to the Queen of Naples, and thirty to the Queen of Portugal. All the property of the victims was seized by the crown. Cruel as this doom appears to us, it was regarded at that time as mild and humane, though now one shudders at such unchristian barbarity. But in justice, the excuse must be made for Ferdinand and Isabella, that they supposed that thereby the Moslem Moors would be more likely to become converts to the Christian religion, even in slavery. It is said that Isabella was urged by the clergy to put all the captured Moors to death, as a warning to others. The city of Malaga was now re-inhabited by the Spaniards.

In the next year, Ferdinand, with a force of twenty thousand men, marched against Granada, the capital of the Moorish kingdom. The Christians were driven back in confusion into their own territory. The year following, King Ferdinand collected an army of ninety-five thousand men. The cavalry was composed of the highest nobility of the realm. The Christians advanced upon Baza. The Moors sallied forth from the city to meet their foes; a fierce battle lasted for twelve hours, when the Moors were forced to retreat within the city walls. The conflict had been so severe, however, that the Spanish generals counselled an abandonment of the siege. Ferdinand, relying upon the wisdom and great mental endowments of his wife, sent dispatches to Jaen, where Isabella then was, asking her advice. Her reply was so encouraging that the siege was renewed. The summer and winter passed away; the Christians suffered much during the floods of rain which inundated their camp. The energetic queen, however, came to their rescue, and sent six thousand pioneers to repair the roads; and she even pawned the crown jewels and her own ornaments, to raise money to furnish her husband’s forces with supplies. The Moorish women within the city displayed heroism equal to that of the Christian queen. At length, as the Spanish troops began to despond, Ferdinand sent for his brave wife to come to the camp, that her presence might inspire them with fresh courage. An historian thus describes the coming of the queen: —

“On the 7th of November, the queen, accompanied by her daughter Isabella, several ladies of honor, a choir of beautiful maidens, and a brilliant escort, entered the camp of Ferdinand. The inhabitants of Baza crowded their walls and towers to gaze upon the glittering pageant as it wound its way through the defiles of the mountains and emerged upon the plain, with gold-embroidered banners and strains of martial music. The Spanish cavaliers sallied forth in a body from their camp to receive their beloved queen and to greet her with an enthusiastic reception. The presence of this extraordinary woman, in whose character there was combined with feminine grace so much of manly self-reliance and energy, not only reanimated the drooping spirits of the besiegers, but convinced the besieged that the Spanish army would never withdraw until the place was surrendered. Though there was no want of food for the beleagured Moors, their ammunition was nearly expended, and the garrison was greatly reduced by sickness, wounds, and death.”

Soon after the arrival of Isabella, the Moorish garrison offered to capitulate. Ferdinand was so anxious to secure the place, that he agreed to allow the army to march out with the honors of war, and the citizens to retire with their property at their pleasure. The fall of Baza secured the surrender of many other important strongholds of the Moslems. Granada, the capital of the Moorish kingdom, was still in the possession of the Moors. Ferdinand, in 1491, having raised another army, encamped within six miles of this city. Abdallah, the king of the Spanish Moors, was in personal command at Granada. The city possessed a population of two hundred thousand people.

The situation of Granada was exceedingly picturesque. A wild, rugged mountain range, whose summits were crowned with snow, protected the city upon the south. On the north was a beautiful plain, blooming with flowers, and beyond, groves and vineyards reached for thirty leagues. But upon this lovely spot occurred scenes of blended heroism and revolting carnage, which have made the fall of Granada famous for all time.

Sometimes a company of Moors, clad in armor, and mounted upon their fiery Arabian chargers, would ride forth from the gates, while bugle-blasts rang shrill upon the air, and challenge an equal number of Christian knights to combat. Promptly the defiance was met. All the citizens of Granada crowded the house-tops, battlements, and towers of the city, to watch the exciting conflict. Both armies rested upon their arms, breathlessly awaiting the issue. Again, some brave Christian knight would ride forth alone and challenge a Moorish cavalier to combat. The ladies of the two hostile courts cheered their respective champion with their fair presence and encouraging smiles; and never did knight or cavalier fight more valiantly to win the prize of victory. The memory of these brilliant but deadly tourneys still inspires the songs of the Castilians. Spanish ballads glow with thrilling descriptions of these knightly tourneys; and the prowess of Moslem, as well as Christian warriors, sheds undying glory over the conquest of Granada.

Queen Isabella took an active part in all the military operations of the Spanish army. She often appeared upon the field, encased in full armor, mounted upon a splendid steed; and her presence always inspired her troops to fresh deeds of valor. Isabella occupied in the camp a pavilion, richly draped with silken hangings. One night, a gust of wind blew the fringes of one of the curtains into the flame of a lamp, and soon the entire pavilion was in a blaze. The conflagration spread to other tents, and it was only with great difficulty that the entire camp was preserved from destruction. The queen and her children were in great danger of being destroyed. In consequence of this accident, Ferdinand, to prevent a like occurrence, ordered a city of substantial houses to be built upon the spot occupied by his army. In three months, a large and stately city arose. The soldiers wished to call it Isabella, in honor of their idolized queen, but she named it Santa Fé, in recognition of her faith in Providence. The city still stands.

The Moors were now convinced that their Spanish foes were determined to remain until the Crescent should give place to the Cross. The citizens of Granada were suffering from famine. Abdallah, therefore, surrendered Granada to the Christians on the second day of January, 1492.

This last great act in one of the sublimest of historical dramas – the invasion of Spain by the Moors – was performed with the most imposing martial and religious rites. The Alhambra was first taken possession of by veteran Christian troops, including the body-guard of the king. Ferdinand, surrounded by a very brilliant cortège glittering in polished armor, took his station near an Arabian mosque, now called the hermitage of St. Sebastian. At a short distance in the rear the queen Isabella took her position, accompanied by a no less splendid retinue, her high-born warriors proudly displaying the armorial bearings of their families. The immense column of the Christian army commenced its march up the Hill of Martyrs into the city. Abdallah, accompanied by fifty cavaliers, passed them, descending the hill to make the surrender of himself to Ferdinand. The heart-broken Moor threw himself from his horse, and would have seized the hand of Ferdinand to kiss it in token of homage, but the Christian king magnanimously spared him the humiliation, and threw his arms around the deposed monarch in a respectful and affectionate embrace. Abdallah then presented the keys of the Alhambra to the conqueror, saying, —

“They are thine, O king, since Allah so decrees it. Use thy success with clemency and moderation.”

He then, not waiting for the words of consolation which the king was about to utter, rode on to offer the same acts of submission and homage to Queen Isabella. In the mean time the Castilian army, winding slowly up the hill and around the walls, entered the city by the gate of Los Molinos. The large silver cross which Ferdinand had ever borne with him in his crusade against the Moors was now elevated upon the Alhambra, while the banners of the conqueror were proudly unfurled from its towers. “It was the signal for the whole army to fall upon its knees in recognition of that providence which had granted them so great a victory. The solemn strains of the Te Deum, performed by the choir of the royal chapel, then swelled majestically over the prostrate host. The Spanish grandees now gathered around Isabella, and kneeling, kissed her hand, in recognition of her sovereignty as queen of Granada.”

Abdallah, however, did not remain as a sad witness of these scenes. With a small band he took his way to the mountains. From one of the rocky eminences he sorrowfully gazed upon the beautiful realms over which his ancestors had reigned for more than seven hundred years. With eyes filled with tears he exclaimed, “Alas! when were woes ever equal to mine!”

Whereupon his mother cruelly replied, “You do well to weep as a woman for what you could not defend like a man!”

Thus “The Last Sigh of the Moor,” and the cruel yet Spartan-like heroism of the Moorish queen-mother, have passed into the romantic annals of history.

While Ferdinand and Isabella were at Santa Fé, Columbus arrived at their camp. We have not space to give here a history of Christopher Columbus. We can but note a few important incidents. The Atlantic Ocean was then unexplored. Columbus, who was employed in the construction of maps and charts, became convinced that countries existed upon the other side of the globe. He was laughed at as an enthusiast, and when he declared that the world was round, one of the sages of the fifteenth century replied, “Can any one be so foolish as to believe that the world is round, and that there are people on the side opposite to ours who walk with their heels upward and their heads hanging down, like flies clinging to the ceiling? that there is a part of the world where trees grow with their branches hanging downwards, and where it rains, hails, and snows upwards?”

The doctrine of Columbus was not only regarded as absurd, but it was thought to be heretical. Columbus, fully convinced of the truth of his ideas, appealed first to the king of Portugal for means to fit out a fleet to start out on a voyage of discovery. Meeting with refusal, he visited the Spanish court in 1487. At this time Ferdinand and Isabella were with the army, encamped before Malaga. The war with the Moors continuing, the Spanish sovereigns declared that they could give the matter no attention until the conclusion of the war. Disheartened, Columbus was about to apply to the king of France, when the prior of the convent of La Rabida, at Palos, who firmly believed in the scheme of Columbus, and who had formerly been confessor to Isabella, wrote to the queen, urging that Spain might not lose so great an opportunity. Isabella was so much impressed by the letter of the worthy prior that she immediately requested that Columbus should come to Santa Fé, where she was then residing, as the Spanish army were still besieging Granada. Columbus arrived there just as the Moorish banner was torn down, and the flag of Spain was unfurled upon the towers of the Alhambra. In the midst of these rejoicings Columbus presented his plans. “I wish,” said he, “for a few ships and a few sailors to traverse between two and three thousand miles of the ocean, thus to point out a new and short route to India, and reveal new nations, majestic in wealth and power. These realms are peopled by immortal beings, for whom Christ has died. It is my mission to search them out, and to carry to them the Gospel of salvation. Wealth will also flow in from this discovery. With this wealth we can raise armies, and rescue the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem from the hands of the infidels. I ask only in return that I may be appointed viceroy over the realms I discover, and that I shall receive one-tenth of the profits which may accrue.”

The Spanish courtiers were astonished at what they deemed audacious demands, and persuaded the queen to refuse. Whereupon, Columbus sadly saddled his mule to retrace his steps, and to offer his services to the king of France. Isabella was troubled, as she thought over these offers and requests of Columbus, and she expressed to Ferdinand her perplexities. He replied, “The royal finances are exhausted by the war. We have no money in the treasury for such an enterprise.” The queen then enthusiastically exclaimed, —