Виктория Холт - Spain for the Sovereigns

Boabdil said that all might hear: ‘I bring you the keys of the Alhambra. They belong to you, O King of the Christians. Allah decrees that it should be so. I beg you to show clemency to my sorrowing people.’

Boabdil then prostrated himself before Ferdinand, and turning went to Isabella, who was some short distance behind Ferdinand, and made similar obeisance to her.

He then left her and rode towards the sad group who were waiting for him. This was his family, at the head of which was the angry Zoraya.

‘Come,’ said Boabdil. ‘Now is the time to say farewell to Granada and greatness.’

Zoraya was about to speak, but, with a gesture full of dignity, Boabdil signed for all to fall in behind him; and spurring his horse, he galloped away in the direction of the Alpujarras.

On he rode, followed by his family and those of his courtiers and troops whom he had been allowed to take with him.

At the hill called Padul he stopped. This was the last point from which he could hope to see Granada in all its glory.

He looked back to that most beautiful of cities – the city which had once been the capital of his kingdom and was now lost to him.

His emotions overcame him, and the tears began to flow down his cheeks.

Zoraya pushed her horse beside his.

‘Weep!’ she cried. ‘Weep! It is what we expect of you. Weep like a woman for the city you could not defend like a man!’

Boabdil turned his horse, and the melancholy cavalcade moved on. Boabdil did not look back on the city he would never see again.

* * *

Meanwhile Isabella and Ferdinand, side by side, made their triumphant entry into the city, where the streets had already been anointed with holy water that it might be washed clean of the contamination of Infidels.

Magnificently clad, the Sovereigns rode at the head of the cavalcade. They both realised the need to impress with their grandeur the people of Granada, who had been used to the splendour of their Sultans. And although neither Isabella nor Ferdinand cared for fine clothing and outward displays of riches, they were determined to appear at their most magnificent on this progress through the city.

Christian troops lined the hill-road leading to the Alhambra and, raising her eyes, Isabella saw that which she had determined to see since, as a girl, she had made her solemn vows. The flag of Christian Spain was flying over the Alhambra; the last Moorish stronghold in Spain had capitulated, and the reconquest was complete.

Joyous shouts filled the air.

‘Granada! Granada for the Kings – Isabella and Ferdinand!’

Cristobal Colon had arrived at Santa Fe in time to see the triumphant procession.

A day after the Sovereigns had made their entry and taken formal possession of the city he was brought to their presence by Beatriz de Bobadilla.

Cristobal’s hopes were high, for the war was over, and it was the war which had made them hesitate.

Again he described all that he hoped to do; to Isabella he stressed the importance of conquering new lands that poor ignorant savages might be brought into the Christian fold; to Ferdinand he talked of the riches which these countries must contain.

The Sovereigns were excited.

‘Your Highnesses will understand,’ said Cristobal, ‘that I must be granted certain concessions.’

‘These concessions are?’ Ferdinand demanded.

‘I should ask to be made Admiral of the lands I discover during my lifetime, and that on my death this title should be the right of my heirs.’

Isabella, shocked, caught her breath. The title of Admiral was only bestowed on members of the nobility, and the Admiral of Castile was now Don Alonso Enriquez, Ferdinand’s own uncle. Yet here was this humble sailor asking for a noble title!

Ferdinand’s face had hardened also. It seemed to the Sovereigns that this man was insolent.

Cristobal went on serenely: ‘I should be Governor and Viceroy of the discovered lands.’

‘You do not know,’ said Ferdinand coldly, ‘but how could you – not being conversant with the ways of the Court – that it is the Sovereign’s prerogative to choose and dismiss governors and viceroys.’

‘I know it, Highness,’ went on Cristobal stubbornly. ‘I should also need one-tenth of all the treasure I bring back, and one-eighth share in every expedition which leaves Spain for the Indies. If any dispute should arise concerning this, the right should be mine to appoint judges to try the case, and their decision should be final. I would also ask for a place at Court for my son.’

The Sovereigns were dumbfounded. Isabella recovered her composure first.

‘Señor Colon,’ she said, ‘these demands astonish us. You may leave us now, and we will discuss them; and in time you will hear our decision.’

Cristobal bowed low. He said: ‘Highness, I would beg you not to delay the decision, for I have news that I should be very welcome at the Court of France.’

He then left the presence of the Sovereigns.

* * *

‘Impudence!’ cried Ferdinand.

Talavera, who had been present, said: ‘Your Highnesses, the man should be sent about his business. Clearly he comes from the devil. Perhaps it would be advisable to hand him over to the Holy Office. They would discover what evil prompts him.’

‘He is a very bold man,’ commented Isabella, ‘but I think this boldness grows out of his certainty. I should like a little time to consider his claims, which we might induce him to modify.’

‘Your Highness heard what he said about the Court of France?’ cried Talavera.

‘Yes,’ answered Isabella. ‘But he will wait awhile, I think.’

Ferdinand’s anger seemed to abate suddenly, and Isabella, who knew him so well, realised that he was considering all the treasure which might be his.

‘There is little money to spare for such an expedition,’ she said.

‘Highness,’ insisted Talavera, ‘God has given a city of Infidels into our care. Should we not devote ourselves to bringing them to the true faith, rather than waste time and money on an adventurer?’

‘I do not think it would be easy to find the money to equip the expedition,’ said Isabella. ‘But Cristobal Colon should be told that we still consider the matter.’

* * *

The case of Cristobal Colon was temporarily forgotten by the Sovereigns, for another matter of the greatest importance had arisen.

Torquemada’s campaign against the Jews had been relentlessly pursued since he had established his new form of Inquisition with himself as Inquisitor General, and the time had now come, he said, to make the supreme gesture against the Jews.

He wanted every Jew who would not accept Christianity to be driven from Spain.

Now, he declared, was the moment to do this. The Sovereigns had clearly been selected by the Divine will to create an all-Christian Spain. After seven hundred years they had recaptured the land from the Moors, so that the conquest was complete.

‘This is a sign,’ said Torquemada.

Public opinion was ready. The Jews had never been so hated as they were at this time.

This was due to a case which had excited much public attention.

A year or so before, a Jew, named Benito Garcia, was travelling in the course of his business, when he had been robbed; and in his knapsack was found a consecrated wafer.

The robbers took this wafer to the magistrate and told him where they had found it. They were immediately forgiven their crime, and Garcia was arrested for what was considered an even greater one. He was cruelly tortured; in his agony he mentioned the names of other Jews, and a story emerged. It was the old story of a Christian boy who was kidnapped by Jews, taken to a cave where he had been subjected to ritual murder, his heart having been cut out, after which he was crucified in the manner in which Christ had been.

The case had excited public opinion, and Torquemada and his officials had seen that it received the utmost publicity. The Christian boy’s body could not be found, but this, it was explained, was due to the fact that he had ascended to heaven as Christ had done. He became known then as Santo Niño, and miracles were said to have been performed in his name. Hysteria and superstition were intensified.

All those who were accused of being concerned in the case were tortured and met death at the stake. Two of them, however, had been considered too evil even for death by burning. These were an old man of eighty and his young son, who refused to accept the Christian faith and remained loyal to that of their forefathers to the end. Their flesh was torn with red-hot pincers, but before they died they were set over faggots which had been dampened that they might not burn too quickly, and these two – the old man and the youth – were finally killed by roasting over a slow fire.

Torquemada now believed the moment was ripe for the banishment of the Jews, and for this reason he came to Granada to see the Sovereigns.

* * *

Ferdinand’s greed was now well known and, as the fury of the people had been whipped up against them, the anxious Jews met together to discuss what could be done.

It was suggested that they should collect a large sum of money which they would offer to Ferdinand in exchange for permission to keep their homes.

So, shortly after Torquemada reached Granada to obtain the consent of Ferdinand and Isabella to his plan, a deputation of Jews arrived and asked for an audience with the Sovereigns.

Ferdinand and Isabella received this deputation.

‘Highnesses,’ they were told, ‘we could raise a sum of thirty thousand ducats which we would present to you in exchange for permission to stay in Spain and keep our homes. We implore Your Highnesses to allow us to set about collecting this money and to give us your sacred promise that when it is yours we shall be unmolested.’

Even Isabella hesitated. The exchequer was perilously low, for the war had cost so much more than she had believed possible and there was still a great deal to be done. The need for money was desperate.

Thirty thousand ducats! The words were the sweetest music in Ferdinand’s ears. And all they had to do was refuse to sign the Edict which Torquemada was preparing.

‘I see that you are eager to become good citizens,’ said Ferdinand. ‘I believe that we might come to some arrangement.’

The members of the deputation were almost weeping with relief; and Isabella felt a certain pleasure that she could agree to please both them and Ferdinand at the same time.

* * *

Meanwhile one of Torquemada’s lieutenants had sought out his master.

‘Holy Prior,’ he said, ‘a deputation is now in the presence of the Sovereigns. I have made it my business to discover theirs, and I have learned that they are offering thirty thousand ducats in exchange for the Sovereigns’ promise that they may remain in Spain.’

Torquemada’s face was paler than usual.

He snatched up a crucifix and made his way to the royal apartments.

He did not ask for an audience but stormed into the chamber, where Ferdinand and Isabella sat at a table while the Jewish deputation stood by, presenting documents which the Sovereigns were about to sign.

Ferdinand looked at the Prior with astonishment.

‘What means this?’ he demanded.

‘I will tell you what it means!’ cried Torquemada. ‘The angels are weeping this day. And the reason! Judas Iscariot sold his Master for thirty pieces of silver. The Sovereigns of Christian Spain are preparing to sell Him for thirty thousand!’

He took the crucifix from under his robe and, holding it up, he raised his eyes to Heaven.

‘Holy Mother of God,’ he went on, ‘you have interceded for us. Great victories have been granted us. Now you look down and see our unworthiness. I pray you do not hesitate to take our greatness from us. We have been granted grace, and in return we desecrate the holy name of God.’

Then he threw the crucifix onto the table, and continued: ‘You are bartering Christ for your pieces of silver. Here He is. Barter Him away!’

Torquemada then strode out of the apartment.

Isabella and Ferdinand looked at each other, then at the crucifix on the table, and a terrible fear came to them.