he Spaniard persisted until he had converted the fruitful
paradise into a hopeless desert, and then marched away, leaving the
citizens to a winter of despair.

The next year he came again, encamped his army near the city, destroyed
what little verdure remained near its walls, and waited calmly until
famine and anarchy should force the citizens to yield. He attempted no
siege. It was not necessary. He could safely trust to his terrible allies.
The crowded city held out desperately while the summer passed and autumn
moved on to winter's verge, and then, with famine stalking through their
streets and invading their homes, but one resource remained to the
citizens,--surrender.

Ferdinand did not wish to distress too deeply the unhappy people. To
obtain possession of the city on any terms was the one thought then in his
mind. Harshness could come later, if necessary. Therefore, on the 25th of
November, 1492, articles of capitulation were signed, under which the
Moors of Granada were to retain all their possessions, be protected in
their religious exercises, and governed by their own laws, which were to
be administered by their own officials; the one unwelcome proviso being
that they should become subjects of Spain. To Boabdil were secured all his
rich estates and the patrimony of the crown, while he was to receive in
addition thirty thousand castellanos in gold. Excellent terms, one would
say, in view of the fact that Granada was at the mercy of Ferdinand, and
might soon have been obliged to surrender unconditionally.

On the night preceding the surrender doleful lamentations filled the halls
of the Alhambra, for the household of Boabdil were bidding a last farewell
to that delightful abode. The most precious effects were hastily packed
upon mules, and with tears and wailings the rich hangings and ornaments of
the beautiful apartments were removed. Day had not yet dawned when a
sorrowful cavalcade moved through an obscure postern gate of the palace
and wound through a retired quarter of the city. It was the family of the
deposed monarch, which he had sent off thus early to save them from
possible scoffs and insults.

The sun had barely risen when three signal-guns boomed from the heights of
the Alhambra, and the Christian army began its march across the vega. To
spare the feelings of the citizens it was decided that the city should not
be entered by its usual gates, and a special road had been opened leading
to the Alhamb