Spain for the Sovereigns (50 page)

BOOK: Spain for the Sovereigns
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Ferdinand nodded grimly. ‘The loss must amount to a small fortune,’ he grumbled.

‘I have been thinking, Ferdinand. It is now July. Very soon the summer will be over. Suppose we do not take Granada before the winter is upon us?’

Ferdinand was silent.

‘The advantage,’ she went on, ‘will be all on the side of our enemies. They will be in warm winter quarters in their town, while we shall be exposed to the weather in our encampment.’

‘You and the children will have to leave us.’

‘And what effect will that have, do you think? I prefer to remain with the army, Ferdinand. I think it is essential that I remain with the army.’

‘Then we shall have to retire and come back in the spring.’

‘And lose the advantage we now have! No! I have a plan. We will build ourselves a town here . . . here on the plain before Granada.’

‘A town! You cannot mean that.’

‘But I do mean it, Ferdinand. We will build houses of stone which will not take fire so easily as our tents. We will build a great garrison – houses, quarters for the soldiers and stables. And we shall not retreat from our position, but stay here all through the winter as comfortably housed as our enemies!’

‘Is this possible?’

‘With God’s help everything is possible,’ she answered.

‘It would have to be completed in three months.’

‘So shall it be.’

Ferdinand looked at her with admiration. The previous day she had been exhausted by her work in the camp; her night had been disturbed by this disastrous fire; and here she sat, looking fresh and as energetic as ever, calmly proposing a plan which, had anyone but Isabella suggested it, he would have declared to be absurd.

 

Before Granada the work went on. The town grew up with a speed which astonished all who beheld it.

The Moors looked on in despair.

They understood the meaning of this. The Christians would remain there throughout the winter. The respite for which they had longed would be denied them.

‘Allah has turned his face from us,’ wailed the people of Granada. And they cursed Boabdil, their King, who had brought civil war among them when he had challenged the rule of Muley Abul Hassan.

Isabella moved about among her workmen. They must work harder. The task was tremendous, but it must be accomplished. They must ignore the sporadic sallies of the Moors. They must build their town by winter.

There were two avenues traversing this new town as Isabella had planned that there should be.

‘Thus,’ she said, ‘my new town is in the form of the cross – the cross for which we fight. It shall be the only town in Spain which has not been contaminated by Moslem heresy.’

The town must have a name, it was decided; and a deputation of workers came to her and asked if she would honour the town by bestowing her name upon it.

She smiled graciously. ‘I thank you for the honour you have done me,’ she said. ‘I thank you for the good work you have done in this town. But I have decided on a more appropriate name than my own. We shall call this town Santa Fe.’

And there was the town in the shape of a cross – a monument to the determination of the Christians not to rest until they had brought about the reconquest of every inch of Spanish soil.

 

Beatriz de Bobadilla was in her quarters within the fortifications of Santa Fe when one of her women came to her and told her that a friar had arrived and wished to speak to her on the most urgent business.

Beatriz received him at once.

‘My lady,’ said Fray Juan, ‘it is kind of you to receive me so promptly.’

‘Why,’ she said, ‘you have made a long journey and you are exhausted.’

‘I have travelled two hundred miles from La Rabida, but the matter is one which needs urgent attention, and I beg you to give it. It concerns the explorer, Cristobal Colon.’

‘Ah,’ said Beatriz, ‘the explorer.’ She smiled almost tenderly. ‘How fares it with him?’

‘He is frustrated, my lady; indignant and angry with Spain and himself. He is no longer a young man, and he bitterly resents the wasted years.’

‘There has been so much to occupy the mind of the Queen,’ she answered.

‘It is true, and a tragedy for Spain. Unless something is done immediately, he will leave the country, and some other monarch will have the benefit of his genius.’

‘That must not be,’ said Beatriz.

‘It will be, my lady, unless there is no more delay.’

Beatriz made a quick decision. ‘I am going to see that you are given refreshment and an opportunity to wash the travel-stains from your person. I will go to the Queen immediately and, when I have returned, I will let you know whether Señor Colon is to be given help from Spain. I promise to let you know how I have fared with all speed.’

The Prior smiled. He had done his part, and there was no more he could do.

 

Beatrix begged an audience with the Queen. Ferdinand was with Isabella, a fact which dismayed Beatriz.

But Ferdinand was friendly. He was pleased with the way events were moving, and was very much aware of the important part the women were playing before Granada.

‘Highness,’ said Beatriz, ‘I come to you in great haste. Fray Juan Perez de Marchena has arrived in Santa Fe from La Rabida. Cristobal Colon is on the point of leaving Spain.’

‘I am sorry to hear this,’ said the Queen. ‘Was he not told to wait awhile, and that his schemes would have our attention when we had the time to devote to them?’

‘Yes, Highness, he was, but he will wait no longer. He thinks that his expedition is of the greatest importance; and frankly, if your Highnesses will not help him, he has decided to find a Sovereign who will do so. He plans to go to France.’

At the mention of the great enemy of Aragon, Ferdinand flushed with anger. His eyes narrowed, and with a certain delight Beatriz noticed the lights of cupidity shining there.

She went on to talk of the riches which he would bring back if he were successful. ‘For, Your Highnesses, even if he should fail in his discovery of a New World, he will have shown us a new route to the riches of Cathay and the East, of which Marco Polo wrote so glowingly.

‘I thought,’ she finished, ‘that Your Highnesses would wish to stop him before he has an opportunity of bringing to another the riches which, would you but equip his expedition, he would lay at your feet.’

‘Willingly,’ said Isabella, ‘would we equip him for this expedition, but everything we possess must go into the prosecution of the war.’

She looked at Ferdinand.

‘Highness,’ pleaded Beatriz, ‘would it be so costly? It is unbearable to think that all that he might discover may go to another country.’

‘I was impressed by the man,’ said Isabella. She looked at Ferdinand as though expecting him to speak against asking the man to return, but Ferdinand said nothing; his eyes had that glazed look, and she realised that he was seeing the return of the explorer, his ships laden with treasures – gold, jewels, slaves.

Isabella continued: ‘I would be prepared to reconsider what might be done.’ She smiled towards Ferdinand. ‘Perhaps the King would agree with me in this.’

Ferdinand was thinking: The man must be stopped from taking his plans to France. Even if he and the Queen did not fit out his expedition, they must stop him from taking his plans to the enemy.

Ferdinand smiled at Isabella. ‘As usual, Your Highness speaks good sense. Let us recall this man and reconsider what he has to tell us.’

Beatriz cried: ‘Thank you, Your Highnesses. I am sure your munificence will be rewarded.’ She turned to Isabella. ‘Highness, this man is poor. Would you agree that he might be sent money for his journey here, money to buy garments which would make him fit to appear before Your Highnesses?’

‘By all means let that be done,’ said Isabella.

 

Within Granada conditions were deteriorating rapidly. The effect of the building of Santa Fe was disastrous to the morale of the besieged. The blockade, which the people had hoped would be lifted by the retirement of the Christian army during the winter, continued.

There were some who declared that there must be no surrender, that their fellow Moslems in Africa would never allow them to lose their grip on Spanish soil. But there were others who gazed out on the bustling and efficient fortifications of Santa Fe, who considered the destruction of the crops and knew that the end was near.

One of these was Boabdil. He called on Allah; he prostrated himself in his grief. He felt responsible for the plight into which his people had fallen, and he longed to save his country from the terrible fate which had befallen Malaga.

Under cover of darkness he sent messengers from the city to Ferdinand to ask what terms would be offered for the surrender of the town.

Ferdinand wrote:

‘I am prepared to be magnanimous. Surrender the city, and the inhabitants of Granada shall keep possession of their mosques and shall be allowed to retain their own religion. They shall also retain their own laws and be judged by their own
cadis
, although there will be a Castilian governor of the town. They may continue to use their own language and the Arab dress. If they wish to leave the country they may dispose of their property on their own account. There would be no extra taxes for three years. King Boabdil would abdicate, but he should be given a territory in the Alpujarras which would be a protectorate of the Castilian crown. All the fortifications and artillery must be handed over to the Christians, and the surrender must take place in no more than sixty days.’

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