CHAPTER IV.

ALLIANCES OF THE ROYAL FAMILY.--DEATH OF PRINCE JOHN AND PRINCESS ISABELLA.

Royal Family of Castile.--Matrimonial Alliances with Portugal.--With Austria.--Marriage of John and Margaret.--Death of Prince John.--The Queen's Resignation.--Independence of the Cortes of Aragon.--Death of the Princess Isabella.--Recognition of her Infant Son Miguel.

The credit and authority which the Castilian sovereigns established by the success of their arms, were greatly raised by the matrimonial connections which they formed for their children. This was too important a spring of their policy to be passed over in silence. Their family consisted of one son and four daughters, whom they carefully educated in a manner befitting their high rank; and who repaid their solicitude by exemplary filial obedience, and the early manifestation of virtues rare even in a private station. [1] They seem to have inherited many of the qualities which distinguished their illustrious mother; great decorum and dignity of manners, combined with ardent sensibilities, and unaffected piety, which, at least in the eldest and favorite daughter, Isabella, was, unhappily, strongly tinctured with bigotry. They could not, indeed, pretend to their mother's comprehensive mind, and talent for business, although there seems to have been no deficiency in these respects; or, if any, it was most effectually supplied by their excellent education. [2]

The marriage of the princess Isabella with Alonso, the heir of the Portuguese crown, in 1490, has been already noticed. This had been eagerly desired by her parents, not only for the possible contingency, which it afforded, of bringing the various monarchies of the Peninsula under one head, (a design of which they never wholly lost sight,) but from the wish to conciliate a formidable neighbor, who possessed various means of annoyance, which he had shown no reluctance to exert. The reigning monarch, John the Second, a bold and crafty prince, had never forgotten his ancient quarrel with the Spanish sovereigns in support of their rival Joanna Beltraneja, or Joanna the Nun, as she was generally called in the Castilian court after she had taken the veil. John, in open contempt of the treaty of Alcantara, and indeed of all monastic rule, had not only removed his relative from the convent of Santa Clara, but had permitted her to assume a royal state, and subscribe herself "I the Queen." This empty insult he accompanied with more serious efforts to form such a foreign alliance for the liberated princess as should secure her the support of some arm more powerful than his own, and enable her to renew the struggle for her inheritance with better chance of success. [3] These flagrant proceedings had provoked the admonitions of the Roman see, and had formed the topic, as may be believed, of repeated, though ineffectual remonstrance from the court of Castile. [4]

It seemed probable that the union of the princess of the Asturias with the heir of Portugal, as originally provided by the treaty of Alcantara, would so far identify the interests of the respective parties as to remove all further cause of disquietude. The new bride was received in Portugal in a spirit which gave cordial assurance of these friendly relations for the future; and the court of Lisbon celebrated the auspicious nuptials with the gorgeous magnificence, for which, at this period of its successful enterprise, it was distinguished above every other court in Christendom. [5]

Alonso's death, a few months after this event, however, blighted the fair hopes which had begun to open of a more friendly feeling between the two countries. His unfortunate widow, unable to endure the scenes of her short-lived happiness, soon withdrew into her own country to seek such consolation as she could find in the bosom of her family. There, abandoning herself to the melancholy regrets to which her serious and pensive temper naturally disposed her, she devoted her hours to works of piety and benevolence, resolved to enter no more into engagements, which had thrown so dark a cloud over the morning of her life. [6]

On King John's death, in 1495, the crown of Portugal devolved on Emanuel, that enlightened monarch, who had the glory in the very commencement of his reign of solving the grand problem, which had so long perplexed the world, of the existence of an undiscovered passage to the east. This prince had conceived a passion for the young and beautiful Isabella during her brief residence in Lisbon; and, soon after his accession to the throne, he despatched an embassy to the Spanish court inviting her to share it with him. But the princess, wedded to the memory of her early love, declined the proposals, notwithstanding they were strongly seconded by the wishes of her parents, who, however, were unwilling to constrain their daughter's inclinations on so delicate a point, trusting perhaps to the effects of time, and the perseverance of her royal suitor. [7]

In the mean while, the Catholic sovereigns were occupied with negotiations for the settlement of the other members of their family. The ambitious schemes of Charles the Eighth established a community of interests among the great European states, such as had never before existed, or, at least, been understood; and the intimate relations thus introduced naturally led to intermarriages between the principal powers, who, until this period, seem to have been severed almost as far asunder as if oceans had rolled between them. The Spanish monarchs, in particular, had rarely gone beyond the limits of the Peninsula for their family alliances. The new confederacy into which Spain had entered, now opened the way to more remote connections, which were destined to exercise a permanent influence on the future politics of Europe. It was while Charles the Eighth was wasting his time at Naples, that the marriages were arranged between the royal houses of Spain and Austria, by which the weight of these great powers was thrown into the same scale, and the balance of Europe unsettled for the greater part of the following century. [8]

The treaty provided, that Prince John, the heir of the Spanish monarchies, then in his eighteenth year, should be united with the princess Margaret, daughter of the emperor Maximilian; and that the archduke Philip, his son and heir, and sovereign of the Low Countries in his mother's right, should marry Joanna, second daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella. No dowry was to be required with either princess. [9]

In the course of the following year, arrangements were also concluded for the marriage of the youngest daughter of the Castilian sovereigns with a prince of the royal house of England, the first example of the kind for more than a century. [10] Ferdinand had cultivated the good-will of Henry the Seventh, in the hope of drawing him into the confederacy against the French monarch; and in this had not wholly failed, although the wary king seems to have come into it rather as a silent partner, if we may so say, than with the intention of affording any open or very active co-operation. [11] The relations of amity between the two courts were still further strengthened by the treaty of marriage above alluded to, finally adjusted October 1st, 1496, and ratified the following year, between Arthur, prince of Wales, and the infanta Doña Catalina, conspicuous in English history, equally for her misfortunes and her virtues, as Catharine of Aragon. [12] The French viewed with no little jealousy the progress of these various negotiations, which they zealously endeavored to thwart by all the artifices of diplomacy. But King Ferdinand had sufficient address to secure in his interests persons of the highest credit at the courts of Henry and Maximilian, who promptly acquainted him with the intrigues of the French government, and effectually aided in counteracting them. [13]

The English connection was necessarily deferred for some years, on account of the youth of the parties, neither of whom exceeded eleven years of age. No such impediment occurred in regard to the German alliances, and measures were taken at once for providing a suitable conveyance for the infanta Joanna into Flanders, which should bring back the princess Margaret on its return. By the end of summer, in 1496, a fleet consisting of one hundred and thirty vessels, large and small, strongly manned and thoroughly equipped with all the means of defence against the French cruisers, was got ready for sea in the ports of Guipuscoa and Biscay. [14] The whole was placed under the direction of Don Fadrique Enriquez, admiral of Castile, who carried with him a splendid show of chivalry, chiefly drawn from the northern provinces of the kingdom. A more gallant and beautiful armada never before quitted the shores of Spain. The infanta Joanna, attended by a numerous suite, arrived on board the fleet towards the end of August, at the port of Laredo, on the eastern borders of the Asturias, where she took a last farewell of the queen her mother, who had postponed the hour of separation as long as possible, by accompanying her daughter to the place of embarkation.

The weather soon after her departure became extremely rough and tempestuous; and it was so long before any tidings of the squadron reached the queen, that her affectionate heart was filled with the most distressing apprehensions. She sent for the oldest and most experienced navigators in these boisterous northern seas, consulting them, says Martyr, day and night on the probable causes of delay, the prevalent courses of the winds at that season, and the various difficulties and dangers of the voyage; bitterly regretting that the troubles with France prevented any other means of communication, than the treacherous element to which she had trusted her daughter. [15] Her spirits were still further depressed at this juncture by the death of her own mother, the dowager Isabella, who, under the mental infirmity with which she had been visited for many years, had always experienced the most devoted attention from her daughter, who ministered to her necessities with her own hands, and watched over her declining years with the most tender solicitude.[16]

At length, the long-desired intelligence came of the arrival of the Castilian fleet at its place of destination. It had been so grievously shattered, however, by tempests, as to require being refitted in the ports of England. Several of the vessels were lost, and many of Joanna's attendants perished from the inclemency of the weather, and the numerous hardships to which they were exposed. The infanta, however, happily reached Flanders in safety, and, not long after, her nuptials with the archduke Philip were celebrated in the city of Lisle with all suitable pomp and solemnity.

The fleet was detained until the ensuing winter, to transport the destined bride of the young prince of the Asturias to Spain. This lady, who had been affianced in her cradle to Charles the Eighth of France, had received her education in the court of Paris. On her intended husband's marriage with the heiress of Brittany, she had been returned to her native land under circumstances of indignity never to be forgiven by the house of Austria. She was now in the seventeenth year of her age, and had already given ample promise of those uncommon powers of mind which distinguished her in riper years, and of which she has left abundant evidence in various written compositions. [17]

On her passage to Spain, in midwinter, the fleet encountered such tremendous gales, that part of it was ship-wrecked, and Margaret's vessel had wellnigh foundered. She retained, however, sufficient composure amidst the perils of her situation, to indite her own epitaph, in the form of a pleasant distich, which Pontenelle has made the subject of one of his amusing dialogues, where he affects to consider the fortitude displayed by her at this awful moment as surpassing that of the philosophic Adrian in his dying hour, or the vaunted heroism of Cato of Utica. [18]

Fortunately, however, Margaret's epitaph was not needed; she arrived in safety at the port of Santander in the Asturias, early in March, 1497.

The young prince of the Asturias, accompanied by the king his father, hastened towards the north to receive his royal mistress, whom they met and escorted to Burgos, where she was received with the highest marks of satisfaction by the queen and the whole court. Preparations were instantly made for solemnizing the nuptials of the royal pair, after the expiration of Lent, in a style of magnificence such as had never before been witnessed under the present reign. The marriage ceremony took place on the 3d of April, and was performed by the archbishop of Toledo in the presence of the grandees and principal nobility of Castile, the foreign ambassadors, and the delegates from Aragon. Among these latter were the magistrates of the principal cities, clothed in their municipal insignia and crimson robes of office, who seem to have had quite as important parts assigned them by their democratic communities, in this and all similar pageants, as any of the nobility or gentry. The nuptials were followed by a brilliant succession of fetes, tourneys, tilts of reeds, and other warlike spectacles, in which the matchless chivalry of Spain poured into the lists to display their magnificence and prowess in the presence of their future queen. [19] The chronicles of the day remark on the striking contrast, exhibited at these entertainments, between the gay and familiar manners of Margaret and her Flemish nobles, and the pomp and stately ceremonial of the Castilian court, to which, indeed, the Austrian princess, nurtured as she had been in a Parisian atmosphere, could never be wholly reconciled. [20]

The marriage of the heir apparent could not have been celebrated at a more auspicious period. It was in the midst of negotiations for a general peace, when the nation might reasonably hope to taste the sweets of repose, after so many uninterrupted years of war. Every bosom swelled with exultation in contemplating the glorious destinies of their country under the beneficent sway of a prince, the first heir of the hitherto divided monarchies of Spain. Alas! at the moment when Ferdinand and Isabella, blessed in the affections of their people, and surrounded by all the trophies of a glorious reign, seemed to have reached the very zenith of human felicity, they were doomed to receive one of those mournful lessons, which admonish us that all earthly prosperity is but a dream. [21]

Not long after Prince John's marriage, the sovereigns had the satisfaction to witness that of their daughter Isabella, who, notwithstanding her repugnance to a second union, had yielded at length to the urgent entreaties of her parents to receive the addresses of her Portuguese lover. She required as the price of this, however, that Emanuel should first banish the Jews from his dominions, where they had bribed a resting- place since their expulsion from Spain; a circumstance to which the superstitious princess imputed the misfortunes which had fallen of late on the royal house of Portugal. Emanuel, whose own liberal mind revolted at this unjust and impolitic measure, was weak enough to allow his passion to get the better of his principles, and passed sentence of exile on every Israelite in his kingdom; furnishing, perhaps, the only example, in which love has been made one of the thousand motives for persecuting this unhappy race. [22]

The marriage, ushered in under such ill-omened auspices, was celebrated at the frontier town of Valencia de Alcantara, in the presence of the Catholic sovereigns, without pomp or parade of any kind. While they were detained there, an express arrived from Salamanca, bringing tidings of the dangerous illness of their son, the prince of the Asturias. He had been seized with a fever in the midst of the public rejoicings to which his arrival with his youthful bride in that city had given rise. The symptoms speedily assumed an alarming character. The prince's constitution, naturally delicate, though strengthened by a life of habitual temperance, sunk under the violence of the attack; and when his father, who posted with all possible expedition to Salamanca, arrived there, no hopes were entertained of his recovery. [23]

Ferdinand, however, endeavored to cheer his son with hopes which he did not feel himself; but the young prince told him that it was too late to be deceived; that he was prepared to part with a world, which in its best estate was filled with vanity and vexation; and that all he now desired was, that his parents might feel the same sincere resignation to the divine will, which he experienced himself. Ferdinand gathered new fortitude from the example of his heroic son, whose presages were unhappily too soon verified. He expired on the 4th of October, 1497, in the twentieth year of his age, in the same spirit of Christian philosophy which he had displayed during his whole illness. [24]

Ferdinand, apprehensive of the effect which the abrupt intelligence of this calamity might have on the queen, caused letters to be sent at brief intervals, containing accounts of the gradual decline of the prince's health, so as to prepare her for the inevitable stroke. Isabella, however, who through all her long career of prosperous fortune may be said to have kept her heart in constant training for the dark hour of adversity, received the fatal tidings in a spirit of meek and humble acquiescence, testifying her resignation in the beautiful language of Scripture, "The Lord hath given, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be his name!" [25]

"Thus," says Martyr, who had the melancholy satisfaction of rendering the last sad offices to his royal pupil, "was laid low the hope of all Spain." "Never was there a death," says another chronicler, "which occasioned such deep and general lamentation throughout the land." All the unavailing honors which affection could devise were paid to his memory. His funeral obsequies were celebrated with melancholy splendor, and his remains deposited in the noble Dominican monastery of St. Thomas at Avila, which had been erected by his parents. The court put on a new and deeper mourning than that hitherto used, as if to testify their unwonted grief. [26] All offices, public and private, were closed for forty days; and sable-colored banners were suspended from the walls and portals of the cities. Such extraordinary tokens of public sorrow bear strong testimony to the interest felt in the young prince, independently of his exalted station; similar, and perhaps more unequivocal evidence of his worth, is afforded by abundance of contemporary notices, not merely in works designed for the public, but in private correspondence. The learned Martyr, in particular, whose situation, as Prince John's preceptor, afforded him the best opportunities of observation, is unbounded in commendations of his royal pupil, whose extraordinary promise of intellectual and moral excellence had furnished him with the happiest, alas! delusive auguries, for the future destiny of his country. [27]

By the death of John without heirs, the succession devolved on his eldest sister, the queen of Portugal. [28] Intelligence, however, was received soon after that event, that the archduke Philip, with the restless ambition which distinguished him in later life, had assumed for himself and his wife Joanna the title of "princes of Castile." Ferdinand and Isabella, disgusted with this proceeding, sent to request the attendance of the king and queen of Portugal in Castile, in order to secure a recognition of their rights by the national legislature. The royal pair, accordingly, in obedience to the summons, quitted their capital of Lisbon, early in the spring of 1498. In their progress through the country, they were magnificently entertained at the castles of the great Castilian lords, and towards the close of April reached the ancient city of Toledo, where the cortes had been convened to receive them. [29]

After the usual oaths of recognition had been tendered, without opposition, by the different branches to the Portuguese princes, the court adjourned to Saragossa, where the legislature of Aragon was assembled for a similar purpose.

Some apprehensions were entertained, however, of the unfavorable disposition of that body, since the succession of females was not countenanced by the ancient usage of the country; and the Aragonese, as Martyr remarks in one of his Epistles, "were well known to be a pertinacious race, who would leave no stone unturned, in the maintenance of their constitutional rights." [30]

These apprehensions were fully realized; for, no sooner was the object of the present meeting laid before cortes in a speech from the throne, with which parliamentary business in Aragon was always opened, than decided opposition was manifested to a proceeding, which it was declared had no precedent in their history. The succession of the crown, it was contended, had been limited by repeated testaments of their princes to male heirs, and practice and public sentiment had so far coincided with this, that the attempted violation of the rule by Peter the Fourth, in favor of his own daughters, had plunged the nation in a civil war. It was further urged that by the will of the very last monarch, John the Second, it was provided that the crown should descend to the male issue of his son Ferdinand, and in default of such to the male issue of Ferdinand's daughters, to the entire exclusion of the females. At all events, it was better to postpone the consideration of this matter until the result of the queen of Portugal's pregnancy, then far advanced, should be ascertained; since, should it prove to be a son, all doubts of constitutional validity would be removed.

In answer to these objections, it was stated, that no express law existed in Aragon excluding females from the succession; that an example had already occurred, as far back indeed as the twelfth century, of a queen who held the crown in her own right; that the acknowledged power of females to transmit the right of succession necessarily inferred that right existing in themselves; that the present monarch had doubtless as competent authority as his predecessors to regulate the law of inheritance, and that his act, supported by the supreme authority of cortes, might set aside any former disposition of the crown; that this interference was called for by the present opportunity of maintaining the permanent union of Castile and Aragon; without which they must otherwise return to their ancient divided state, and comparative insignificance. [31]

These arguments, however cogent, were far from being conclusive with the opposite party; and the debate was protracted to such length, that Isabella, impatient of an opposition to what the practice in her own dominions had taught her to regard as the inalienable right of her daughter, inconsiderately exclaimed, "It would be better to reduce the country by arms at once, than endure this insolence of the cortes." To which Antonio de Fonseca, the same cavalier who spoke his mind so fearlessly to King Charles the Eighth, on his march to Naples, had the independence to reply, "That the Aragonese had only acted as good and loyal subjects, who, as they were accustomed to mind their oaths, considered well before they took them; and that they must certainly stand excused if they moved with caution in an affair, which they found so difficult to justify by precedent in their history." [32] This blunt expostulation of the honest courtier, equally creditable to the sovereign who could endure, and the subject who could make it, was received in the frank spirit in which it was given, and probably opened Isabella's eyes to her own precipitancy, as we find no further allusion to coercive measures.

Before anything was determined, the discussion was suddenly brought to a close by an unforeseen and most melancholy event,--the death of the queen of Portugal, the unfortunate subject of it. That princess had possessed a feeble constitution from her birth, with a strong tendency to pulmonary complaints. She had early felt a presentiment that she should not survive the birth of her child; this feeling strengthened as she approached the period of her delivery; and in less than one hour after that event, which took place on the 23d of August, 1498, she expired in the arms of her afflicted parents. [33]

This blow was almost too much for the unhappy mother, whose spirits had not yet had time to rally, since the death of her only son. She, indeed, exhibited the outward marks of composure, testifying the entire resignation of one who had learned to rest her hopes of happiness on a better world. She schooled herself so far, as to continue to take an interest in all her public duties, and to watch over the common weal with the same maternal solicitude as before; but her health gradually sunk under this accumulated load of sorrow, which threw a deep shade of melancholy over the evening of her life.

The infant, whose birth had cost so dear, proved a male, and received the name of Miguel, in honor of the saint on whose day he first saw the light. In order to dissipate, in some degree, the general gloom occasioned by the late catastrophe, it was thought best to exhibit the young prince before the eyes of his future subjects; and he was accordingly borne in the arms of his nurse, in a magnificent litter, through the streets of the city, escorted by the principal nobility. Measures were then taken for obtaining the sanction of his legitimate claims to the crown. Whatever doubts had been entertained of the validity of the mother's title, there could be none whatever of the child's; since those who denied the right of females to inherit for themselves, admitted their power of conveying such a right to male issue. As a preliminary step to the public recognition of the prince, it was necessary to name a guardian, who should be empowered to make the requisite engagements, and to act in his behalf. The Justice of Aragon, in his official capacity, after due examination, appointed the grandparents, Ferdinand and Isabella, to the office of guardians during his minority, which would expire by law at the age of fourteen. [34]

On Saturday, the 22d of September, when the queen had sufficiently recovered from a severe illness brought on by her late sufferings, the four arms of the cortes of Aragon assembled in the house of deputation at Saragossa; and Ferdinand and Isabella made oath as guardians of the heir apparent, before the Justice, not to exercise any jurisdiction whatever in the name of the young prince during his minority; engaging, moreover, as far as in their power, that, on his coming of age, he should swear to respect the laws and liberties of the realm, before entering on any of the rights of sovereignty himself. The four estates then took the oath of fealty to Prince Miguel, as lawful heir and successor to the crown of Aragon; with the protestation, that it should not be construed into a precedent for exacting such an oath hereafter during the minority of the heir apparent. With such watchful attention to constitutional forms of procedure, did the people of Aragon endeavor to secure their liberties; forms, which continued to be observed in later times, long after those liberties had been swept away. [35]

In the month of January, of the ensuing year, the young prince's succession was duly confirmed by the cortes of Castile, and, in the following March, by that of Portugal. Thus, for once, the crowns of the three monarchies of Castile, Aragon, and Portugal were suspended over one head. The Portuguese, retaining the bitterness of ancient rivalry, looked with distrust at the prospect of a union, fearing, with some reason, that the importance of the lesser state would be wholly merged in that of the greater. But the untimely death of the destined heir of these honors, which took place before he had completed his second year, removed the causes of jealousy, and defeated the only chance, which had ever occurred, of bringing under the same rule three independent nations, which, from their common origin, their geographical position, and, above all, their resemblance in manners, sentiments, and language, would seem to have originally been intended to form but one. [36]

FOOTNOTES

[1] The princess Doña Isabel, the eldest daughter, was born at Dueñas, October 1st, 1470. Their second child and only son, Juan, prince of the Asturias, was not born until eight years later, June 30th, 1478, at Seville. Doña Juana, whom the queen used playfully to call her "mother-in- law," suegra, from her resemblance to King Ferdinand's mother, was born at Toledo, November 6th, 1479. Doña Maria was born at Cordova, in 1482, and Doña Catalina, the fifth and last child, at Alcalá de Henares, December 5th, 1485. The daughters all lived to reign; but their brilliant destinies were clouded with domestic afflictions, from which royalty could afford no refuge. Carbajal, Anales, MS., loc. mult.

[2] The only exception to these remarks, was that afforded by the infanta Joanna, whose unfortunate eccentricities, developed in later life, must be imputed, indeed, to bodily infirmity.

[3] Nine different matches were proposed for Joanna in the course of her life; but they all vanished into air, and the "excellent lady," as she was usually called by the Portuguese, died as she had lived, in single blessedness, at the ripe age of sixty-eight. In the Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., tom. vi., the 19th Ilustracion is devoted to this topic, in regard to which Father Florez shows sufficient ignorance, or inaccuracy. Reynas Cathólicas, tom. ii. p. 780.

[4] Instructions relating to this matter, written with the queen's own hand, still exist in the archives of Simancas. Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., ubi supra.

[5] La Clède, Histoire de Portugal, tom. iv. p. 100.

The Portuguese historian, Faria y Sousa, expends half a dozen folio pages on these royal revelries, which cost six months' preparation, and taxed the wits of the most finished artists and artificers in France, England, Flanders, Castile, and Portugal. (Europa Portuguesa, tom. ii. pp. 452 et seq.) We see, throughout, the same luxury of spectacle, the same elegant games of chivalry, as the tilt of reeds, the rings, and the like, which the Castilians adopted from the Spanish Arabs.

[6] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, tom. v. fol. 38.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, tom. ii. fol. 312.

[7] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, tom. v. fol. 78, 82.--La Clède, Hist. de Portugal, tom. iv. p. 95.--Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 146.

Martyr, in a letter written at the close of 1496, thus speaks of the princess Isabella's faithful attachment to her husband's memory; "Mira fuit hujus foeminae in abjiciendis secundis nuptiis constantia. Tanta est ejus modestia, tanta vidualis castitas, ut neo mensa post mariti mortem comederit, nec lauti quicquam degustaverit. Jejuniis sese vigiliisque ita maceravit, ut sicco stipite siccior sit effecta. Suffulta rubore perturbatur, quandocunque de jugali thalamo sermo intexitur. Parentum tamen aliquando precibus, veluti olfacimus, inflectetur. Viget fama, futuram vestri regis Emmanuelis uxorem." Epist. 171.

[8] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, tom. v. fol. 63.

[9] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, tom. v. lib. 2, cap. 5.--Ferreras, Hist. d'Espagne, tom. viii. p. 160.

[10] I believe there is no instance of such a union, save that of John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster, with Doña Constanza, daughter of Peter the Cruel, in 1371, from whom Queen Isabella was lineally descended on the father's side. The title of Prince of the Asturias, appropriated to the heir apparent of Castile, was first created for the infant Don Henry, afterwards Henry III., on occasion of his marriage with John of Gaunt's daughter, in 1388. It was professedly in imitation of the English title of Prince of Wales; and the Asturias were selected as that portion of the ancient Gothic monarchy, which had never bowed beneath the Saracen yoke. Florez, Reynas Cathólicas, tom. ii. pp. 708-715.--Mendoza, Dignidades, lib. 3, cap. 23.

[11] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 25.--Rymer, Foedera, (London, 1727,) vol. xii. pp. 638-642.

Ferdinand used his good offices to mediate a peace between Henry VII. and the king of Scots; and it is a proof of the respect entertained for him by both these monarchs, that they agreed to refer their disputes to his arbitration. (Rymer, Foedera, vol. xii. p. 671.) "And so," says the old chronicler Hall, of the English prince, "beying confederate and alied by treatie and league with al his neighbors, he gratefied with his moost heartie thanks kyng Ferdinand and the quene his wife, to which woman none other was comparable in her tyme, for that they were the mediators, organes, and instrumentes by the which the truce was concluded betwene the Scottish kynge and him, and rewarded his ambassadoure moost liberally and bountefully." Chronicle, p. 483.

[12] See the marriage treaty in Rymer. (Foedera, vol. xii. pp. 658-666.) The marriage had been arranged between the Spanish and English courts as far back as March, 1489, when the elder of the parties had not yet reached the fifth year of her age. This was confirmed by another, more full and definite, in the following year, 1490. By this treaty, it was stipulated, that Catharine's portion should be 200,000 gold crowns, one-half to be paid down at the date of her marriage, and the remainder in two equal payments in the course of the two years ensuing. The prince of Wales was to settle on her one-third of the revenues of the principality of Wales, the dukedom of Cornwall, and earldom of Chester. Rymer, Foedera, vol. xii. pp. 411-417.

[13] "Procuro," says Zurita, "que se effectuassen los matrimonios de sus hijos, no solo con promesas, pero con dadivas que se hizieron a los privados de aquellos principes, que en ello entendian." Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 3.

[14] Historians differ, as usual, as to the strength of this armament. Martyr makes it 110 vessels, and 10,000 soldiers, (Opus Epist., epist. 168;) while Bernaldez carries the number to 130 sail, and 25,000 soldiers, (Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 153.) Ferreras adopts the latter estimate, (tom. viii. p. 173.) Martyr may have intended only the galleys and regular troops, while Bernaldez, more loosely, included vessels and seamen of every description. See also the royal ordinances, ap. Coleccion de Cédulas, (tom. i. nos. 79, 80, 82,) whose language implies a very large number, without specifying it.

[15] Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 172.--Carbajal, Anales, MS., año 1496.--Mariana, Hist. de España, tom. ii. lib. 26, cap. 12.

[16] Carbajal, Anales, MS., año 1496.--Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 172.

[17] Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 174.--Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib. 19, cap. 6.--Gaillard, Rivalité, tom. iii. pp. 416, 423.--Sandoval, Historia del Emperador Carlos V., (Amberes, 1681,) tom. i. p. 2.

These, comprehending her verses, public addresses, and discourse on her own life, have been collected into a single volume, under the title of "La Couronne Margaritique," Lyons, 1549, by the French writer Jean la Maire de Belges, her faithful follower, but whose greatest glory it is, to have been the instructor of Clement Marot.

[18] Fontenelle, Oeuvres, tom. i. dial. 4.

"Ci gist Margot, la gentil' damoiselle Qu'a deux maris, et encore est pucelle."

It must be allowed that Margaret's quiet nonchalance was much more suited to Fontenelle's habitual taste, than the imposing scene of Cato's death. Indeed, the French satirist was so averse to scenes of all kinds, that he has contrived to find a ridiculous side in this last act of the patriot Roman.

[19] That these were not mere holiday sports, was proved by the melancholy death of Alonso de Cardenas, son of the comendador of Leon, who lost his life in a tourney. Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 2, dial. 1.

[20] Carbajal, Anales, MS., año 1497.--Mariana, Hist. de España, tom. ii. lib. 26, cap. 16.--Lanuza, Historias, lib. 1, cap. 8.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, tom. ii. fol. 330.

"Y aunque," says the last author, "a la princessa se le dexaron todos sus criados, estilos, y entretenimientos, se la advirtio, que en las ceremonias no havia de tratar a las personas Reales, y Grandes con la familiaridad y llaneza de las casas de Austria, Borgoñia, y Francia, sino con la gravedad, y mesurada autoridad de los Reyes y naciones de España!"

The sixth volume of the Spanish Academy of History contains an inventory, taken from the archives of Simancas, of the rich plate and jewels, presented to the princess Margaret on the day of her marriage. They are said to be "of such value and perfect workmanship, that the like was never before seen." (Ilust. 11, pp. 338-342.) Isabella had turned these baubles to good account in the war of Granada. She was too simple in her taste to attach much value to luxury of apparel.

[21] It is precisely this period, or rather the whole period from 1493 to 1497, which Oviedo selects as that of the greatest splendor and festivity at the court of the Catholic sovereigns. "El año de 1493, y uno ó dos despues, y aun hasta el de 1497 años fué cuando la corte de los Reyes Católicos Don Fernando é Doña Isabel de gloriosa memoria, mas alegres tiempos é mas regozijados, vino en su corte, é mas encumbrada andubo la gala é las fiestas é servicios de galanes é damas." Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 4, dial. 44.

[22] Faria y Sousa, Europa Portuguesa, tom. ii. pp. 498, 499.--La Clède, Hist. de Portugal, tom. iv. p. 95.--Zurita, tom. v, lib. 3, cap. 6.-- Lanuza, Historias, ubi supra.

[23] Carbajal, Anales, MS., año 1497.--Florez, Reynas Cathólicas, tom. ii. pp. 846, 848.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, tom. v. fol. 127, 128.--La Clède, Hist. de Portugal, tom. iv. p. 101.

The physicians recommended a temporary separation of John from his young bride; a remedy, however, which the queen opposed from conscientious scruples somewhat singular. "Hortantur medici Reginam, hortatur et Rex, ut a principis latere Margaritam aliquando semoveat, interpellet. Inducias precantur. Protestantur periculum ex frequenti copulâ ephebo imminere; qualiter eum suxerit, quamve subtristis incedat, consideret iterum atque iterum monent; medullas laedi, stomachum hebetari se sentire Reginae renunciant. Intercidat, dum licet, obstetque principiis, instant. Nil proficiunt. Respondet Regina, homines non oportere, quos Deus jugali vinculo junxerit, separare." Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 176.

[24] Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 182.--L. Marineo, Cosas Memorables, fol. 182.--Carbajal, Anales, MS., año 1497.--Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS., dial. de Deza.

Peter Martyr, in more of a classic than a Christian vein, refers Prince John's composure in his latter hours to his familiarity with the divine Aristotle. "Aetatem quae ferebat superabat; nec mirum tamen. Perlegerat namque divini Aristotelis pleraque volumina," etc. Ubi supra.

[25] Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 183.

Martyr draws an affecting picture of the anguish of the bereaved parents, which betrayed itself in looks more eloquent than words. "Reges tantam dissimulare aerumnam nituntur; ast nos prostratum in internis ipsorum animum cernimus; oculos alter in faciem alterius crebro conjiciunt, in propatulo sedentes. Unde quid lateat proditur. Nimirum tamen, desinerent humanâ carne vestiti esse homines, essentque adamante duriores, nisi quid amiserint sentirent."

[26] Blancas, Coronaciones de los Serenissimos Reyes de Aragon, (Zaragoza, 1641,) lib. 3, cap. 18.--Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib. 19, cap. 6.-- Sackcloth was substituted for the white serge, which till this time had been used as the mourning dress.

[27] Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 182.--Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib. 19, cap. 6.--L. Marineo, Cosas Memorables, fol. 182.--Blancas, Coronaciones, p. 248.

It must be allowed to furnish no mean proof of the excellence of Prince John's heart, that it was not corrupted by the liberal doses of flattery with which his worthy tutor was in the habit of regaling him, from time to time. Take the beginning of one of Martyr's letters to his pupil, in the following modest strain. "Mirande in pueritiâ senex, salve. Quotquot tecum versantur homines, sive genere polleant, sive ad obsequium fortunae humiliores destinati ministri, te laudant, extollunt, admirantur." Opus Epist., epist. 98.

[28] Hopes were entertained of a male heir at the time of John's death, as his widow was left pregnant; but these were frustrated by her being delivered of a still-born infant at the end of a few months. Margaret did not continue long in Spain. She experienced the most affectionate treatment from the king and queen, who made her an extremely liberal provision. (Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, tom. v. lib. 3, cap. 4.) But her Flemish followers could not reconcile themselves to the reserve and burdensome ceremonial of the Castilian court, so different from the free and jocund life to which they had been accustomed at home; and they prevailed on their mistress to return to her native land in the course of the year 1499. She was subsequently married to the duke of Savoy, who died without issue in less than three years, and Margaret passed the remainder of her life in widowhood, being appointed by her father, the emperor, to the government of the Netherlands, which she administered with ability. She died in 1530.

[29] Marina has transcribed from the archives of Toledo the writ of summons to that city on this occasion. Teoría, tom. ii. p. 16.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, tom. v. lib. 3, cap. 18.--Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 154.--La Clède, Hist. de Portugal, tom. iv. p. 101.-- Carbajal, Anales. MS., año 1498.--Faria y Sousa, Europa Portuguesa, tom. ii. pp. 500, 501.

The last writer expatiates with great satisfaction on the stately etiquette observed at the reception of the Portuguese monarchs and their suite by the Spanish sovereigns. "Queen Isabella," he says, "appeared leaning on the arm of her old favorite Gutierre de Cardenas, comendador of Leon, and of a Portuguese noble, Don Juan de Sousa. The latter took care to acquaint her with the rank and condition of each of his countrymen, as they were presented, in order that she might the better adjust the measure of condescension and courtesy due to each; a perilous obligation," he continues, "with all nations, but with the Portuguese most perilous!"

[30] Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 194.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, tom. ii. fol. 334.--Mariana, Hist. de España, tom. ii. lib. 27, cap. 3.

[31] Blancas, Commentarii, p. 273.--Idem, Coronaciones, lib. 1, cap. 18.-- Mariana, Hist. de España, tom. ii. lib. 27, cap. 3.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, tom. v. fol. 55, 56.

It is remarkable that the Aragonese should so readily have acquiesced in the right of females to convey a title to the crown which they could not enjoy themselves. This was precisely the principle on which Edward III. set up his claim to the throne of France, a principle too repugnant to the commonest rules of inheritance to obtain any countenance. The exclusion of females in Aragon could not pretend to be founded on any express law, as in France, but the practice, with the exception of a single example three centuries old, was quite as uniform.

[32] Blancas, Coronaciones, lib. 3, cap. 18.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, tom. v. lib. 3, cap. 30.

It is a proof of the high esteem in which Isabella held this independent statesman, that we find his name mentioned in her testament among half a dozen others, whom she particularly recommended to her successors for their meritorious and loyal services. See the document in Dormer, Discursos Varios, p. 354.

[33] Carbajal, Anales, MS., años 1470, 1498.--Florez, Reynas Cathólicas, tom. ii. pp. 846, 847.--Faria y Sousa, Europa Portuguesa, tom. ii. p. 504.

[34] Blancas, Commentarii, pp. 510, 511.--Idem, Coronaciones, lib. 3, cap. 19.--Gerónimo Martel, Forma de Celebrar Cortes en Aragon, (Zaragoza, 1641,) cap. 44.--Alvaro Gomez, De Rebus Gestis a Francisco Ximenio Cisnerio, (Compluti, 1569,) fol. 28.--Lanuza, Historias, lib. 1, cap. 9.

[35] Blancas, Coronaciones, ubi supra.--Idem, Commentarii, pp. 510, 511.

The reverence of the Aragonese for their institutions is shown in their observance of the most insignificant ceremonies. A remarkable instance of this occurred in the year 1481, at Saragossa, when, the queen having been constituted lieutenant general of the kingdom, and duly qualified to hold a cortes in the absence of the king her husband, who, by the ancient laws of the land, was required to preside over it in person, it was deemed necessary to obtain a formal act of the legislature, for opening the door for her admission. See Blancas, Modo de Proceder en Cortes de Aragon, (Zaragoza, 1641,) fol. 82, 83.

[36] Faria y Sousa, Europa Portuguesa, tom. ii. pp. 504, 507.--Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 154.--Carbajal, Anales, MS., año 1499.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, tom. v. lib. 3, cap. 33--Sandoval, Hist. del Emp. Carlos V., tom. i. p. 4.

CHAPTER V.

DEATH OF CARDINAL MENDOZA.--RISE OF XIMENES.--ECCLESIASTICAL REFORM.

Death of Mendoza.--His Early Life and Character.--The Queen his Executor. --Origin of Ximenes.--He Enters the Franciscan Order.--His Ascetic Life.-- Confessor to the Queen.--Made Archbishop of Toledo.--Austerity of his Life.--Reform of the Monastic Orders.--Insults Offered to the Queen.--She Consents to the Reform.

In the beginning of 1495, the sovereigns lost their old and faithful minister, the grand cardinal of Spain, Don Pedro Gonzalez de Mendoza. He was the fourth son of the celebrated marquis of Santillana, and was placed by his talents at the head of a family, every member of which must be allowed to have exhibited a rare union of public and private virtue. The cardinal reached the age of sixty-six, when his days were terminated after a long and painful illness, on the 11th of January, at his palace of Guadalaxara. [1]

In the unhappy feuds between Henry the Fourth and his younger brother Alfonso, the cardinal had remained faithful to the former. But on the death of that monarch, he threw his whole weight, with that of his powerful family, into the scale of Isabella, whether influenced by a conviction of her superior claims, or her capacity for government. This was a most important acquisition to the royal cause; and Mendoza's consummate talents for business, recommended by the most agreeable address, secured him the confidence of both Ferdinand and Isabella, who had long been disgusted with the rash and arrogant bearing of their old minister, Carillo.

On the death of that turbulent prelate, Mendoza succeeded to the archiepiscopal see of Toledo. His new situation naturally led to still more intimate relations with the sovereigns, who uniformly deferred to his experience, consulting him on all important matters, not merely of a public, but of a private nature. In short, he gained such ascendency in the cabinet, during a long ministry of more than twenty years, that he was pleasantly called by the courtiers the "third king of Spain." [2]

The minister did not abuse the confidence so generously reposed in him. He called the attention of his royal mistress to objects most deserving it. His views were naturally grand and lofty; and, if he sometimes yielded to the fanatical impulse of the age, he never failed to support her heartily in every generous enterprise for the advancement of her people. When raised to the rank of primate of Spain, he indulged his natural inclination for pomp and magnificence. He filled his palace with pages, selected from the noblest families in the kingdom, whom he carefully educated. He maintained a numerous body of armed retainers, which, far from being a mere empty pageant, formed a most effective corps for public service on all requisite occasions. He dispensed the immense revenues of his bishopric with the same munificent hand which has so frequently distinguished the Spanish prelacy, encouraging learned men, and endowing public institutions. The most remarkable of these were the college of Santa Cruz at Valladolid, and the hospital of the same name for foundlings at Toledo, the erection of which, completed at his sole charge, consumed more than ten years each. [3]

The cardinal, in his younger days, was occasionally seduced by those amorous propensities, in which the Spanish clergy freely indulged, contaminated, perhaps, by the example of their Mahometan neighbors. He left several children by his amours with two ladies of rank, from whom some of the best houses in the kingdom are descended. [4] A characteristic anecdote is recorded of him in relation to this matter. An ecclesiastic, who one day delivered a discourse in his presence, took occasion to advert to the laxity of the age, in general terms, indeed, but bearing too pertinent an application to the cardinal to be mistaken. The attendants of the latter boiled with indignation at the preacher's freedom, whom they determined to chastise for his presumption. They prudently, however, postponed this until they should see what effect the discourse had on their master. The cardinal, far from betraying any resentment, took no other notice of the preacher than to send him a dish of choice game, which had been served up at his own table, where he was entertaining a party of friends that day, accompanying it at the same time, by way of sauce, with a substantial donative of gold doblas; an act of Christian charity not at all to the taste of his own servants. It wrought its effects on the worthy divine, who at once saw the error of his ways, and, the next time he mounted the pulpit, took care to frame his discourse in such a manner as to counteract the former unfavorable impressions, to the entire satisfaction, if not edification, of his audience. "Now-a-days," says the honest biographer who reports the incident, himself a lineal descendant of the cardinal, "the preacher would not have escaped so easily. And with good reason; for the holy Gospel should be discreetly preached, 'cum grano salis,' that is to say, with the decorum and deference due to majesty and men of high estate." [5]

When Cardinal Mendoza's illness assumed an alarming aspect, the court removed to the neighborhood of Guadalaxara, where he was confined. The king and queen, especially the latter, with the affectionate concern which she manifested for more than one of her faithful subjects, used to visit him in person, testifying her sympathy for his sufferings, and benefiting by the lights of the sagacious mind, which had so long helped to guide her. She still further showed her regard for her old minister by condescending to accept the office of his executor, which she punctually discharged, superintending the disposition of his effects according to his testament, [6] and particularly the erection of the stately hospital of Santa Cruz, before mentioned, not a stone of which was laid before his death. [7]

In one of her interviews with the dying minister, the queen requested his advice respecting the nomination of his successor. The cardinal, in reply, earnestly cautioned her against raising any one of the principal nobility to this dignity, almost too exalted for any subject, and which, when combined with powerful family connections, would enable a man of factious disposition to defy the royal authority itself, as they had once bitter experience in the case of Archbishop Carillo. On being pressed to name the individual whom he thought best qualified, in every point of view, for the office, he is said to have recommended Fray Francisco Ximenez de Cisneros, a friar of the Franciscan order, and confessor of the queen. As this extraordinary personage exercised a more important control over the destinies of his country than any other subject, during the remainder of the present reign, it will be necessary to put the reader in possession of his history. [8]

Ximenez de Cisneros, or Ximenes, as he is usually called, was born at the little town of Tordelaguna, in the year 1436, [9] of an ancient but decayed family. [10] He was early destined by his parents for the church, and, after studying grammar at Alcalá, was removed at fourteen to the university of Salamanca. Here he went through the regular course of instruction then pursued, devoting himself assiduously to the civil and canon law, and at the end of six years received the degree of bachelor in each of them, a circumstance at that time of rare occurrence. [11]

Three years after quitting the university, the young bachelor removed by the advice of his parents to Rome, as affording a better field for ecclesiastical preferment than he could find at home. Here he seems to have attracted some notice by the diligence with which he devoted himself to his professional studies and employments. But still he was far from reaping the golden fruits presaged by his kindred; and at the expiration of six years he was suddenly recalled to his native country by the death of his father, who left his affairs in so embarrassed a condition, as to require his immediate presence. [12]

Before his return, Ximenes obtained a papal bull, or expectative, preferring him to the first benefice of a specified value, which should become vacant in the see of Toledo. Several years elapsed before such a vacancy offered itself by the death of the archpriest of Uzeda; and Ximenes took possession of that living by virtue of the apostolic grant.

This assumption of the papal court to dispose of the church livings at its own pleasure, had been long regarded by the Spaniards as a flagrant imposition; and Carillo, the archbishop of Toledo, in whose diocese the vacancy occurred, was not likely tamely to submit to it. He had, moreover, promised this very place to one of his own followers. He determined, accordingly, to compel Ximenes to surrender his pretensions in favor of the latter, and, finding argument ineffectual, resorted to force, confining him in the fortress of Uzeda, whence he was subsequently removed to the strong tower of Santorcaz, then used as a prison for contumacious ecclesiastics. But Carillo understood little of the temper of Ximenes, which was too inflexible to be broken by persecution. The archbishop in time became convinced of this, and was persuaded to release him, but not till after an imprisonment of more than six years. [13]

Ximenes, thus restored to freedom, and placed in undisturbed possession of his benefice, was desirous of withdrawing from the jurisdiction of his vindictive superior; and not long after effected an exchange for the chaplainship of Siguenza. In this new situation he devoted himself with renewed ardor to his theological studies, occupying himself diligently, moreover, with Hebrew and Chaldee, his knowledge of which proved of no little use in the concoction of his famous Polyglot.

Mendoza was at that time bishop of Siguenza. It was impossible that a man of his penetration should come in contact with a character like that of Ximenes, without discerning its extraordinary qualities. It was not long before he appointed him his vicar, with the administration of his diocese; in which situation he displayed such capacity for business, that the count of Cifuentes, on falling into the hands of the Moors, after the unfortunate affair of the Axarquia, confided to him the sole management of his vast estates during his captivity. [14]

But these secular concerns grew more and more distasteful to Ximenes, whose naturally austere and contemplative disposition had been deepened, probably, by the melancholy incidents of his life, into stern religious enthusiasm. He determined, therefore, to break at once from the shackles which bound him to the world, and seek an asylum in some religious establishment, where he might devote himself unreservedly to the service of Heaven. He selected for this purpose the Observantines of the Franciscan order, the most rigid of the monastic societies. He resigned his various employments and benefices, with annual rents to the amount of two thousand ducats, and, in defiance of the arguments and entreaties of his friends, entered on his novitiate in the convent of San Juan de los Reyes, at Toledo; a superb pile then erecting by the Spanish sovereigns, in pursuance of a vow made during the war of Granada. [15]

He distinguished his novitiate by practising every ingenious variety of mortification with which superstition has contrived to swell the inevitable catalogue of human sufferings. He slept on the ground, or on the hard floor, with a billet of wood for his pillow. He wore hair-cloth next his skin; and exercised himself with fasts, vigils, and stripes, to a degree scarcely surpassed by the fanatical founder of his order. At the end of the year, he regularly professed, adopting then for the first time the name of Francisco, in compliment to his patron saint, instead of that of Gonzalo, by which he had been baptized.

No sooner had this taken place, than his reputation for sanctity, which his late course of life had diffused far and wide, attracted multitudes of all ages and conditions to his confessional; and he soon found himself absorbed in the same vortex of worldly passions and interests, from which he had been so anxious to escape. At his solicitation, therefore, he was permitted to transfer his abode to the convent of our Lady of Castañar, so called from a deep forest of chestnuts, in which it was embosomed. In the midst of these dark mountain solitudes, he built with his own hands a little hermitage or cabin, of dimensions barely sufficient to admit his entrance. Here he passed his days and nights in prayer, and in meditations on the sacred volume, sustaining life, like the ancient anchorites, on the green herbs and running waters. In this state of self-mortification, with a frame wasted by abstinence, and a mind exalted by spiritual contemplation, it is no wonder that he should have indulged in ecstasies and visions, until he fancied himself raised into communication with celestial intelligences. It is more wonderful that his understanding was not permanently impaired by these distempered fancies. This period of his life, however, seems to have been always regarded by him with peculiar satisfaction; for long after, as his biographer assures us, when reposing in lordly palaces, and surrounded by all the appliances of luxury, he looked back with fond regret on the hours which glided so peacefully in the hermitage of Castañar. [16]

Fortunately, his superiors, choosing to change his place of residence according to custom, transferred him at the end of three years to the convent of Salzeda. Here he practised, indeed, similar austerities, but it was not long before his high reputation raised him to the post of guardian of the convent. This situation necessarily imposed on him the management of the institution; and thus the powers of his mind, so long wasted in unprofitable reverie, were again called into exercise for the benefit of others. An event which occurred some years later, in 1492, opened to him a still wider sphere of action.

By the elevation of Talavera to the metropolitan see of Granada, the office of queen's confessor became vacant. Cardinal Mendoza, who was consulted on the choice of a successor, well knew the importance of selecting a man of the highest integrity and talent; since the queen's tenderness of conscience led her to take counsel of her confessor, not merely in regard to her own spiritual concerns, but all the great measures of her administration. He at once fixed his eye on Ximenes, of whom he had never lost sight, indeed, since his first acquaintance with him at Siguenza. He was far from approving his adoption of the monastic life, and had been heard to say, that "parts so extraordinary would not long be buried in the shades of a convent." He is said, also, to have predicted that Ximenes would one day succeed him in the chair of Toledo. A prediction, which its author contributed more than any other to verify. [17]

He recommended Ximenes in such emphatic terms to the queen, as raised a strong desire in her to see and converse with him herself. An invitation was accordingly sent him from the cardinal to repair to the court at Valladolid, without intimating the real purpose of it. Ximenes obeyed the summons, and, after a short interview with his early patron, was conducted, as if without any previous arrangement, to the queen's apartment. On finding himself so unexpectedly in the royal presence, he betrayed none of the agitation or embarrassment to have been expected from the secluded inmate of a cloister, but exhibited a natural dignity of manners, with such discretion and fervent piety, in his replies to Isabella's various interrogatories, as confirmed the favorable prepossessions she had derived from the cardinal.

Not many days after, Ximenes was invited to take charge of the queen's conscience. Far from appearing elated by this mark of royal favor, and the prospects of advancement which it opened, he seemed to view it with disquietude, as likely to interrupt the peaceful tenor of his religious duties; and he accepted it only with the understanding, that he should be allowed to conform in every respect to the obligations of his order, and to remain in his own monastery when his official functions did not require attendance at court. [18]

Martyr, in more than one of his letters dated at this time, notices the impression made on the courtiers by the remarkable appearance of the new confessor, in whose wasted frame, and pallid, care-worn countenance, they seemed to behold one of the primitive anchorites from the deserts of Syria or Egypt. [19] The austerities and the blameless purity of Ximenes's life had given him a reputation for sanctity throughout Spain; [20] and Martyr indulges the regret, that a virtue, which had stood so many trials, should be exposed to the worst of all, in the seductive blandishments of a court. But Ximenes's heart had been steeled by too stern a discipline to be moved by the fascinations of pleasure, however it might be by those of ambition.

Two years after this event, he was elected provincial of his order in Castile, which placed him at the head of its numerous religious establishments. In his frequent journeys for their inspection he travelled on foot, supporting himself by begging alms, conformably to the rules of his order. On his return he made a very unfavorable report to the queen of the condition of the various institutions, most of which he represented to have grievously relaxed in discipline and virtue. Contemporary accounts corroborate this unfavorable picture, and accuse the religious communities of both sexes throughout Spain, at this period, of wasting their hours, not merely in unprofitable sloth, but in luxury and licentiousness. The Franciscans, in particular, had so far swerved from the obligations of their institute, which interdicted the possession of property of any description, that they owned large estates in town and country, living in stately edifices, and in a style of prodigal expense not surpassed by any of the monastic orders. Those who indulged in this latitude were called conventuals, while the comparatively small number who put the strictest construction on the rule of their founder were denominated observantines, or brethren of the observance. Ximenes, it will be remembered, was one of the latter. [21]

The Spanish sovereigns had long witnessed with deep regret the scandalous abuses which had crept into these ancient institutions, and had employed commissioners for investigating and reforming them, but ineffectually. Isabella now gladly availed herself of the assistance of her confessor in bringing them into a better state of discipline. In the course of the same year, 1494, she obtained a bull with full authority for this purpose from Alexander the Sixth, the execution of which she intrusted to Ximenes. The work of reform required all the energies of his powerful mind, backed by the royal authority. For, in addition to the obvious difficulty of persuading men to resign the good things of this world for a life of penance and mortification, there were other impediments, arising from the circumstance that the conventuals had been countenanced in their lax interpretation of the rules of their order by many of their own superiors, and even the popes themselves. They were besides sustained in their opposition by many of the great lords, who were apprehensive that the rich chapels and masses, which they or their ancestors had founded in the various monasteries, would be neglected by the observantines, whose scrupulous adherence to the vow of poverty excluded them from what, in church as well as state, is too often found the most cogent incentive to the performance of duty. [22]

From these various causes, the work of reform went on slowly; but the untiring exertions of Ximenes gradually effected its adoption in many establishments; and, where fair means could not prevail, he sometimes resorted to force. The monks of one of the convents in Toledo, being ejected from their dwelling, in consequence of their pertinacious resistance, marched out in solemn procession, with the crucifix before them, chanting, at the same time, the psalm De exitu Israel, in token of their persecution. Isabella resorted to milder methods. She visited many of the nunneries in person, taking her needle or distaff with her, and endeavoring by her conversation and example to withdraw their inmates from the low and frivolous pleasures to which they were addicted. [23]

While the reformation was thus silently going forward, the vacancy in the archbishopric of Toledo already noticed occurred by the death of the grand cardinal. Isabella deeply felt the responsibility of providing a suitable person to this dignity, the most considerable not merely in Spain, but probably in Christendom, after the papacy; and which, moreover, raised its possessor to eminent political rank, as high chancellor of Castile. [24] The right of nomination to benefices was vested in the queen by the original settlement of the crown. She had uniformly discharged this trust with the most conscientious impartiality, conferring the honors of the church on none but persons of approved piety and learning. [25] In the present instance, she was strongly solicited by Ferdinand, in favor of his natural son Alfonso, archbishop of Saragossa. But this prelate, although not devoid of talent, had neither the age nor experience, and still less the exemplary morals, demanded for this important station; and the queen mildly, but unhesitatingly, resisted all entreaty and expostulation of her husband on his behalf. [26]

The post had always been filled by men of high family. The queen, loath to depart from this usage, notwithstanding the dying admonition of Mendoza, turned her eyes on various candidates before she determined in favor of her own confessor, whose character presented so rare a combination of talent and virtue, as amply compensated any deficiency of birth.

As soon as the papal bull reached Castile, confirming the royal nomination, Isabella summoned Ximenes to her presence, and, delivering to him the parcel, requested him to open it before her. The confessor, who had no suspicion of their real purport, took the letters and devoutly pressed them to his lips; when his eye falling on the superscription, "To our venerable brother Francisco Ximenez de Cisneros, archbishop elect of Toledo," he changed color, and involuntarily dropped the packet from his hands, exclaiming, "There is some mistake in this; it cannot be intended for me;" and abruptly quitted the apartment.

The queen, far from taking umbrage at this unceremonious proceeding, waited a while, until the first emotions of surprise should have subsided. Finding that he did not return, however, she despatched two of the grandees, who she thought would have the most influence with him, to seek him out and persuade him to accept the office. The nobles instantly repaired to his convent in Madrid, in which city the queen then kept her court. They found, however, that he had already left the place. Having ascertained his route, they mounted their horses, and, following as fast as possible, succeeded in overtaking him at three leagues' distance from the city, as he was travelling on foot at a rapid rate, though in the noontide heat, on his way to the Franciscan monastery at Ocana.

After a brief expostulation with Ximenes on his abrupt departure, they prevailed on him to retrace his steps to Madrid; but, upon his arrival there, neither the arguments nor entreaties of his friends, backed as they were by the avowed wishes of his sovereign, could overcome his scruples, or induce him to accept an office, of which he professed himself unworthy. "He had hoped," he said, "to pass the remainder of his days in the quiet practice of his monastic duties; and it was too late now to call him into public life, and impose a charge of such heavy responsibility on him, for which he had neither capacity nor inclination." In this resolution he pertinaciously persisted for more than six months, until a second bull was obtained from the pope, commanding him no longer to decline an appointment which the church had seen fit to sanction. This left no further room for opposition, and Ximenes acquiesced, though with evident reluctance, in his advancement to the first dignity in the kingdom. [27]

There seems to be no good ground for charging Ximenes with hypocrisy in this singular display of humility. The nolo episcopal, indeed, has passed into a proverb; but his refusal was too long and sturdily maintained to be reconciled with affectation or insincerity. He was, moreover, at this time, in the sixtieth year of his age, when ambition, though not extinguished, is usually chilled in the human heart. His habits had been long accommodated to the ascetic duties of the cloister, and his thoughts turned from the business of this world to that beyond the grave. However gratifying the distinguished honor conferred on him might be to his personal feelings, he might naturally hesitate to exchange the calm, sequestered way of life, to which he had voluntarily devoted himself, for the turmoil and vexations of the world.

But, although Ximenes showed no craving for power, it must be confessed he was by no means diffident in the use of it. One of the very first acts of his administration is too characteristic to be omitted. The government of Cazorla, the most considerable place in the gift of the archbishop of Toledo, had been intrusted by the grand cardinal to his younger brother Don Pedro Hurtado de Mendoza. The friends of this nobleman applied to Ximenes to confirm the appointment, reminding him at the same time of his own obligations to the cardinal, and enforcing their petition by the recommendation which they had obtained from the queen. This was not the way to approach Ximenes, who was jealous of any improper influence over his own judgment, and, above all, of the too easy abuse of the royal favor. He was determined, in the outset, effectually to discourage all such applications; and he declared, that "the sovereigns might send him back to the cloister again, but that no personal considerations should ever operate with him in distributing the honors of the church." The applicants, nettled at this response, returned to the queen, complaining in the bitterest terms of the arrogance and ingratitude of the new primate. Isabella, however, evinced no symptoms of disapprobation, not altogether displeased, perhaps, with the honest independence of her minister; at any rate, she took no further notice of the affair. [28]

Some time after, the archbishop encountered Mendoza in one of the avenues of the palace, and, as the latter was turning off to avoid the meeting, he saluted him with the title of adelantado of Cazorla. Mendoza stared with astonishment at the prelate, who repeated the salutation, assuring him, "that, now he was at full liberty to consult his own judgment, without the suspicion of any sinister influence, he was happy to restore him to a station, for which he had shown himself well qualified." It is scarcely necessary to say, that Ximenes was not importuned after this with solicitations for office. Indeed, all personal application he affected to regard as of itself sufficient ground for a denial, since it indicated "the want either of merit or of humility in the applicant." [29]

After his elevation to the primacy, he retained the same simple and austere manners as before, dispensing his large revenues in public and private charities, but regulating his domestic expenditure with the severest economy, [30] until he was admonished by the Holy See to adopt a state more consonant with the dignity of his office, if he would not disparage it in popular estimation. In obedience to this, he so far changed his habits, as to display the usual magnificence of his predecessors, in all that met the public eye,--his general style of living, equipage, and the number and pomp of his retainers; but he relaxed nothing of his own personal mortifications. He maintained the same abstemious diet, amidst all the luxuries of his table. Under his robes of silk or costly furs he wore the coarse frock of St. Francis, which he used to mend with his own hands. He used no linen about his person or bed; and he slept on a miserable pallet like that used by the monks of his fraternity, and so contrived as to be concealed from observation under the luxurious couch in which he affected to repose. [31]

As soon as Ximenes entered on the duties of his office, he bent all the energies of his mind to the consummation of the schemes of reform which his royal mistress, as well as himself, had so much at heart. His attention was particularly directed to the clergy of his diocese, who had widely departed from the rule of St. Augustine, by which they were bound. His attempts at reform, however, excited such a lively dissatisfaction in this reverend body, that they determined to send one of their own number to Rome, to prefer their complaints against the archbishop at the papal court. [32]

The person selected for this delicate mission was a shrewd and intelligent canon by the name of Albornoz. It could not be conducted so privately as to escape the knowledge of Ximenes. He was no sooner acquainted with it, than he despatched an officer to the coast, with orders to arrest the emissary. In case he had already embarked, the officer was authorized to fit out a fast sailing vessel, so as to reach Italy, if possible, before him. He was at the same time fortified with despatches from the sovereigns to the Spanish minister, Garcilasso de la Vega, to be delivered immediately on his arrival.

The affair turned out as had been foreseen. On arriving at the port, the officer found the bird had flown. He followed, however, without delay, and had the good fortune to reach Ostia several days before him. He forwarded his instructions at once to the Spanish minister, who in pursuance of them caused Albornoz to be arrested the moment he set foot on shore, and sent him back as a prisoner of state to Spain; where a close confinement for two and twenty mouths admonished the worthy canon of the inexpediency of thwarting the plans of Ximenes. [33]

His attempts at innovation among the regular clergy of his own order were encountered with more serious opposition. The reform fell most heavily on the Franciscans, who were interdicted by their rules from holding property, whether as a community, or as individuals; while the members of other fraternities found some compensation for the surrender of their private fortunes, in the consequent augmentation of those of their fraternity. There was no one of the religious orders, therefore, in which the archbishop experienced such a dogged resistance to his plans, as in his own. More than a thousand friars, according to some accounts, quitted the country and passed over to Barbary, preferring rather to live with the infidel, than conform to the strict letter of their founder's rules. [34]

One account represents the migration as being to Italy and other Christian countries, where the conventual order was protected; which would seem the most probable, though not the best authenticated, statement of the two.

The difficulties of the reform were perhaps augmented by the mode in which it was conducted. Isabella, indeed, used all gentleness and persuasion; [35] but Ximenes carried measures with a high and inexorable hand. He was naturally of an austere and arbitrary temper, and the severe training which he had undergone made him less charitable for the lapses of others; especially of those, who, like himself, had voluntarily incurred the obligations of monastic rule. He was conscious of the rectitude of his intentions; and, as he identified his own interests with those of the church, he regarded all opposition to himself as an offence against religion, warranting the most peremptory exertion of power.

The clamor raised against his proceedings became at length so alarming, that the general of the Franciscans, who resided at Rome, determined to anticipate the regular period of his visit to Castile for inspecting the affairs of the order. As he was himself a conventual, his prejudices were of course all enlisted against the measures of reform; and he came over fully resolved to compel Ximenes to abandon it altogether, or to undermine, if possible, his credit and influence at court. But this functionary had neither the talent nor temper requisite for so arduous an undertaking.

He had not been long in Castile before he was convinced that all his own power, as head of the order, would be incompetent to protect it against the bold innovations of his provincial, while supported by royal authority. He demanded, therefore, an audience of the queen, in which he declared his sentiments with very little reserve. He expressed his astonishment that she should have selected an individual for the highest dignity in the church, who was destitute of nearly every qualification, even that of birth; whose sanctity was a mere cloak to cover his ambition; whose morose and melancholy temper made him an enemy not only of the elegances, but the common courtesies of life; and whose rude manners were not compensated by any tincture of liberal learning. He deplored the magnitude of the evil, which his intemperate measures had brought on the church, but which it was, perhaps, not yet too late to rectify; and he concluded by admonishing her, that, if she valued her own fame, or the interests of her soul, she would compel this man of yesterday to abdicate the office, for which he had proved himself so incompetent, and return to his original obscurity!

The queen, who listened to this violent harangue with an indignation, that prompted her more than once to order the speaker from her presence, put a restraint on her feelings, and patiently waited to the end. When he had finished, she calmly asked him, "If he was in his senses, and knew whom he was thus addressing?" "Yes," replied the enraged friar, "I am in my senses, and know very well whom I am speaking to;--the queen of Castile, a mere handful of dust, like myself!" With these words, he rushed out of the apartment, shutting the door after him with furious violence. [36]

Such impotent bursts of passion could, of course, have no power to turn the queen from her purpose. The general, however, on his return to Italy, had sufficient address to obtain authority from His Holiness to send a commission of conventuals to Castile, who should be associated with Ximenes in the management of the reform. These individuals soon found themselves mere ciphers; and, highly offended at the little account which the archbishop made of their authority, they preferred such complaints of his proceedings to the pontifical court, that Alexander the Sixth was induced, with the advice of the college of cardinals, to issue a brief, November 9th, 1496, peremptorily inhibiting the sovereigns from proceeding further in the affair, until it had been regularly submitted for examination to the head of the church. [37]

Isabella, on receiving this unwelcome mandate, instantly sent it to Ximenes. The spirit of the latter, however, rose in proportion to the obstacles it had to encounter. He sought only to rally the queen's courage, beseeching her not to faint in the good work, now that it was so far advanced, and assuring her that it was already attended with such beneficent fruits, as could not fail to secure the protection of Heaven. Isabella, every act of whose administration may be said to have had reference, more or less remote, to the interests of religion, was as little likely as himself to falter in a matter which proposed these interests as its direct and only object. She assured her minister that she would support him in all that was practicable; and she lost no time in presenting the affair, through her agents, in such a light to the court of Rome, as might work a more favorable disposition in it. In this she succeeded, though not till after multiplied delays and embarrassments; and such ample powers were conceded to Ximenes, in conjunction with the apostolic nuncio, as enabled him to consummate his grand scheme of reform, in defiance of all the efforts of his enemies. [38]

The reformation thus introduced extended to the religious institutions of very order equally with his own. It was most searching in its operation, reaching eventually to the moral conduct of the subjects of it, no less than the mere points of monastic discipline. As regards the latter; it may be thought of doubtful benefit to have enforced the rigid interpretation of a rule, founded on the melancholy principle, that the amount of happiness in the next world is to be regulated by that of self-inflicted suffering in this. But it should be remembered, that, however objectionable such a rule may be in itself, yet, where it is voluntarily assumed as an imperative moral obligation, it cannot be disregarded without throwing down the barrier to unbounded license; and that the reassertion of it, under these circumstances, must be a necessary preliminary to any effectual reform of morals.

The beneficial changes wrought in this latter particular, which Isabella had far more at heart than any exterior forms of discipline, are the theme of unqualified panegyric with her contemporaries. [39] The Spanish clergy, as I have before had occasion to remark, were early noted for their dissolute way of life, which, to a certain extent, seemed to be countenanced by the law itself. [40] This laxity of morals was carried to a most lamentable extent under the last reign, when all orders of ecclesiastics, whether regular or secular, infected probably by the corrupt example of the court, are represented (we may hope it is an exaggeration) as wallowing in all the excesses of sloth and sensuality. So deplorable a pollution of the very sanctuaries of religion could not fail to occasion sincere regret to a pure and virtuous mind like Isabella's. The stain had sunk too deep, however, to be readily purged away. Her personal example, indeed, and the scrupulous integrity with which she reserved all ecclesiastical preferment for persons of unblemished piety, contributed greatly to bring about an amelioration in the morals of the secular clergy. But the secluded inmates of the cloister were less open to these influences; and the work of reform could only be accomplished there, by bringing them back to a reverence for their own institutions, and by the slow operation of public opinion.

Notwithstanding the queen's most earnest wishes, it may be doubted whether this would have ever been achieved without the co-operation of a man like Ximenes, whose character combined in itself all the essential elements of a reformer. Happily, Isabella was permitted to see before her death, if not the completion, at least the commencement, of a decided amendment in the morals of the religious orders; an amendment, which, so far from being transitory in its character calls forth the most emphatic eulogium from a Castilian writer far in the following century; who, while he laments their ancient laxity, boldly challenges comparison for the religious communities of his own country, with those of any other, in temperance, chastity, and exemplary purity of life and conversation. [41]

* * * * *

The authority on whom the life of Cardinal Ximenes mainly rests, is Alvaro Gomez de Castro. He was born in the village of St. Eulalia, near Toledo, in 1515, and received his education at Alcalá, where he obtained great repute for his critical acquaintance with the ancient classics. He was afterwards made professor of the humanities in the university; a situation which he filled with credit, but subsequently exchanged for the rhetorical chair in a school recently founded at Toledo. While thus occupied, he was chosen by the university of Alcalá to pay the most distinguished honor, which could be rendered to the memory of its illustrious founder, by a faithful record of his extraordinary life. The most authentic sources of information were thrown open to him. He obtained an intimate acquaintance with the private life of the cardinal, from three of his principal domestics, who furnished abundance of reminiscences from personal observation, while the archives of the university supplied a mass of documents relating to the public services of its patron. From these and similar materials, Gomez prepared his biography, after many years of patient labor. The work fully answered public expectation; and its merits are such as to lead the learned Nic. Antonio to express a doubt, whether anything more excellent or perfect in its way could be achieved; "quo opere in eo genere an praestantius quidquam aut perfectius, esse possit, non immerito saepe dubitavi." (Bibliotheca Nova, tom. i. p. 59.) The encomium may be thought somewhat excessive; but it cannot be denied, that the narrative is written in an easy and natural manner, with fidelity and accuracy, with commendable liberality of opinion, though with a judgment sometimes warped into an undue estimate of the qualities of his hero. It is distinguished, moreover, by such beauty and correctness of Latinity, as have made it a text-book in many of the schools and colleges of the Peninsula. The first edition, being that used in the present work, was published at Alcalá, in 1569. It has since been reprinted twice in Germany, and perhaps elsewhere. Gomez was busily occupied with other literary lucubrations during the remainder of his life, and published several works in Latin prose and verse, both of which he wrote with ease and elegance. He died of a catarrh, in 1580, in the sixty-sixth year of his age, leaving behind him a reputation for disinterestedness and virtue, which is sufficiently commemorated in two lines of his epitaph;

"Nemini unquam sciens nocui, Prodesse quam pluribus curavi."

The work of Gomez has furnished the basis for all those biographies of Ximenes which have since appeared in Spain. The most important of these, probably, is Quintanilla's; which, with little merit of selection or arrangement, presents a copious mass of details, drawn from every quarter whence his patient industry could glean them. Its author was a Franciscan, and employed in procuring the beatification of Cardinal Ximenes by the court of Rome; a circumstance which probably disposed him to easier faith in the marvellous of his story, than most of his readers will be ready to give. The work was published at Palermo in 1653.

In addition to these authorities I have availed myself of a curious old manuscript, presented to me by Mr. O. Rich, entitled "Suma de la Vida del R. S. Cardenal Don Fr. Francisco Ximenez de Cisneros." It was written within half a century after the cardinal's death, by "un criado de la casa de Coruña." The original, in "very ancient letter," was extant in the archives of that noble house in Quintanilla's time, and is often cited by him. (Archetypo, apend., p. 77.) Its author evidently had access to those contemporary notices, some of which furnished the basis of Castro's narrative, from which, indeed, it exhibits no material discrepancy.

The extraordinary character of Ximenes has naturally attracted the attention of foreign writers, and especially the French, who have produced repeated biographies of him. The most eminent of these is by Fléchier, the eloquent bishop of Nismes. It is written with the simple elegance and perspicuity, which characterize his other compositions; and in the general tone of its sentiments, on all matters both of church and state, is quite as orthodox as the most bigoted admirer of the cardinal could desire. Another life, by Marsollier, has obtained a very undeserved repute. The author, not content with the extraordinary qualities really appertaining to his hero, makes him out a sort of universal genius, quite ridiculous, rivalling Molière's Dr. Pancrace himself. One may form some idea of the historian's accuracy from the fact, that he refers the commencement and conduct of the war of Granada chiefly to the counsels of Ximenes, who, as we have seen, was not even introduced at court till after the close of the war. Marsollier reckoned largely on the ignorance and gullibility of his readers. The event proved he was not mistaken.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Carbajal, Anales, MS., año 1495.--Salazar de Mendoza, Crón. del Gran Cardenal, lib. 2, cap. 45, 46.--Zurita, Anales, tom. v. fol. 61.--Pulgar, Claros Varones, tit. 4.

His disorder was an abscess on the kidneys, which confined him to the house nearly a year before his death. When this event happened, a white cross of extraordinary magnitude and splendor, shaped precisely like that on his arms, was seen in the heavens directly over his house, by a crowd of spectators, for more than two hours; a full account of which was duly transmitted to Rome by the Spanish court, and has obtained easy credit with the principal Spanish historians.

[2] Alvaro Gomez says of him, "Nam praeter clarissimum tum natalium, tum fortunae, tum dignitatis splendorem, quae in ilio ornamenta summa erant, incredibilem animi sublimitatem cum pari morum facilitate, elegantiâque conjunxerat; ut merito locum in republicâ summo proximum ad supremum usque diem tenuerit." (De Rebus Gestis, fol. 9.) Martyr, noticing the cardinal's death, bestows the following brief but comprehensive panegyric on him. "Periit Gonsalus Mendotiae, domûs splendor et lucida fax; periit quem universa colebat Hispania, quem exteri etiam principes venerabantur, quem ordo cardineus collegam sibi esse gloriabatur." Opus Epist., epist. 158.

[3] Salazar de Mendoza, Crón. del Gran Cardenal, pp. 263-273, 381-410.

[4] "Gran varon, y muy experimentado y prudente en negocios," says Oviedo of the cardinal, " pero a vueltas de las negociaciones desta vida, tuvo trés hijos varones," etc. Then follows a full notice of this graceless progeny. Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 1, dial. 8.

[5] Salazar de Mendoza, Crón. del Gran Cardenal, lib. 2, cap. 66.

The doctor Pedro Salazar de Mendoza's biography of his illustrious relative is a very fair specimen of the Spanish style of book-making in ancient times. One event seems to suggest another with about as much cohesion as the rhymes of "The House that Jack built." There is scarcely a place or personage of note, that the grand cardinal was brought in contact with in the course of his life, whose history is not made the theme of profuse dissertation. Nearly fifty chapters are taken up, for example, with the distinguished men, who graduated at the college of Santa Cruz.

[6] "Non hoc," says Tacitus with truth, "praecipuum amicorum munus est, prosequi defunctum ignavo questu; sed quae voluerit meminisse, quae mandaverit exsequi." Annales, lib. 2, sect. 71.

[7] Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 143.--Carbajal, Anales, MS., año 1494.--Salazar de Mendoza, Crón. del Gran Cardenal, lib. 2, cap. 45.

A foundling hospital does not seem to have come amiss in Spain, where, according to Salazar, the wretched parents frequently destroyed their offspring by casting them into wells and pits, or exposing them in desert places to die of famine. " The more compassionate," he observes, "laid them at the doors of churches, where they were too often worried to death by dogs and other animals." The grand cardinal's nephew, who founded a similar institution, is said to have furnished an asylum in the course of his life to no less than 13,000 of these little victims! Ibid., cap. 61.

[8] Salazar de Mendoza, Crón, del Gran Cardenal, lib. 2, cap. 46.--Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 8.

The dying cardinal is said to have recommended, among other things, that the queen should repair any wrong done to Joanna Beltraneja, by marrying her with the young prince of the Asturias; which suggestion was so little to Isabella's taste that she broke off the conversation, saying, "the good man wandered and talked nonsense."

[9] It is singular, that Fiddlier should have blundered some twenty years in the date of Ximenes's birth, which he makes 1457. (Hist. de Ximenés, liv. 1, p. 3.) It is not singular, that Marsollier should. Histoire du Ministère du Cardinal Ximenez, (Toulouse, 1694,) liv. 1, p. 3.

[10] The honorable extraction of Ximenes is intimated in Juan Vergara's verses at the end of the Complutensian Polyglot:

"Nomine Cisnerius clarâ de stirpe parentum, Et meritis factus clarior ipse suis."

Fray Pedro de Quintanilla y Mendoza makes a goodly genealogical tree for his hero, of which King Pelayo, King Pepin, Charlemagne, and other royal worthies are the respectable roots. (Proemia Dedicatoria, pp. 5-35.) According to Gonzalo de Oviedo, his father was a poor hidalgo, who, having spent his little substance on the education of his children, was obliged to take up the profession of an advocate. Quincuagenas, MS.

[11] Quintanilla, Archetypo, p. 6.--Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, Ximen., fol. 2.--Idem, Miscellanear., MS., ex Bibliothecâ, Regiâ Matritensi, tom. ii. fol. 189.

[12] Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 2.--Idem, Miscellanear., MS., ubi supra.--Eugenio de Robles, Compendio de la Vida y Hazañas del Cardenal Don Fray Francisco Ximenez de Cisneros, (Toledo, 1604,) cap. 11.

[13] Quintanilla, Archetype, pp. 8, 10.--Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 2.-- Fléchier, Hist. de Ximenés, pp. 8-10.--Suma de la Vida del R. S. Cardenal Don Fr. Francisco Ximenez de Cisneros, sacada de los Memoriales de Juan de Vallejo, Paje de CEamara, è de algunas Personas que en su Tiempo lo vieron: para la Ilustrisima Señora Doña Catalina de la Zerda, Condesa de Coruña, a quien Dios guarde, y de su Gracia, por un Criado de su Casa, MS.

[14] Suma de la Vida de Cisneros, MS.--Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 3.-- Robles, Vida de Ximenez, cap. 11.--Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS., dial, de Ximeni.

[15] Quintanilla, Archetypo, p. ll.--Gomez, Miscellanear., MS., ubi supra.--Idem, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 4.

This edifice, says Salazar de Mendoza, in respect to its sacristy, choir, cloisters, library, etc., was the most sumptuous and noted of its time. It was originally destined by the Catholic sovereigns for their place of sepulture; an honor afterwards reserved for Granada, on its recovery from the infidels. The great chapel was garnished with the fetters taken from the dungeons of Malaga, in which the Moors confined their Christian captives. Monarquía, tom. i. p. 410.

[16] Fléchier, Hist. de Ximenés, p. 14.--Quintanilla, Archetype, pp. 13, 14.--Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 4.--Suma de la Vida de Cisneros, MS.-- Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS.

[17] Salazar de Mendoza, Crón. del Gran Cardenal, lib. 2, cap. 63.--Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 4.--Suma de la Vida de Cisneros, MS.--Robles, Vida de Ximenez, cap. 12.

[18] Fléchier, Hist. de Ximenés, pp. 18, 19.--Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 108.--Robles, Vida de Ximenez, ubi supra.--Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS.

[19] Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 108.

"Praeterea," says Martyr, in a letter to Don Fernando Alvarez, one of the royal secretaries, "nonne tu sanotissimum quendam virum à, solitudine abstrusisque silvis, macie ob abstinentiam confectum, relicti Granatensis loco fuisse suffactum, scriptitasti? In istius facie obdnctâ, nonne Hilarionis te imaginem aut primi Pauli vultum conspexisse fateris?" Opus Epist., epist. 105.

[20] "Todos hablaban," says Oviedo, "de la sanctimonia é vida de este religioso." The same writer says, that he saw him at Medina del Campo, in 1494, in a solemn procession, on the day of Corpus Christi, his body much emaciated, and walking barefooted in his coarse friar's dress. In the same procession was the magnificent cardinal of Spain, little dreaming how soon his proud honors were to descend on the head of his more humble companion. Quincuagenas, MS.

[21] Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 201.--Suma de la Vida de Cisneros, MS.--Mosheim, Ecclesiastical History, vol. iii. cent. 14, p. 2. --Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 163.--L. Marineo, Cosas Memorables, fol. 165.--Oviedo, Epilogo Real, Imperial y Pontifical, MS., apud Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., tom. vi. Ilust. 8.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 3, cap. 15.

[22] Fléchier, Hist. de Ximenés, pp. 25, 26.--Quintanilla, Archetypo, pp. 21, 22.--Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 6, 7.--Robles, Vida de Ximenez, cap. 12.

[23] Fléchier, Hist. de Ximenes, p. 25.--Quintanilla, Archetypo, lib. 1, cap. ll.--Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., tom. vi. Ilust. 8--Robles, Vida de Ximenez, ubi supra.

[24] Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 2, dial. 1.--Ferdinand and Isabella annexed the dignity of high chancellor in perpetuity to that of archbishop of Toledo. It seems, however, at least in later times, to have been a mere honorary title. (Mendoza, Dignidades, lib. 2, cap. 8.) The revenues of the archbishopric at the beginning of the sixteenth century amounted to 80,000 ducats, (Navagiero, Viaggio, fol. 9.--L. Marineo, Cosas Memorables, fol. 23,) equivalent to about 702,200 dollars at the present day. See Introd., Sect. I. Note 63, of this History.

[25] "De mas desto," says Lucio Marineo, "tenia por costumbre que quando avia de dar alguna dignidad, o obispado, mas mirava en virtud, honestidad, y sciencia de las personas, que las riquezas, y generosidad, aun que fuessen sus deudos. Lo qual fue causa que muchos de los que hablavan poco, y tenian los cabellos mas cortos que las cejas; comenparon a traer los ojos baxos mirando la tierra, y andar con mas gravedad, y hazer mejor vida, zimulando por venture algunos mas la virtud, que exercitando la." (Cosas Memorables, fol. 182.) "L'hypocrisie est l'hommage que le vice rend à la vertu." The maxim is now somewhat stale, like most others of its profound author.

[26] Quintanilla, Archetype, lib. 1, cap. 16.--Salazar de Mendoza, Crón. del Gran Cardenal, lib. 2, cap. 65. This prelate was at this time only twenty-four years of age. He had been raised to the see of Saragossa when only six. This strange abuse of preferring infants to the highest dignities of the church seems to have prevailed in Castile as well as Aragon; for the tombs of five archdeacons might be seen in the church of Madre de Dios at Toledo, in Salazar's time, whose united ages amounted only to thirty years. See Crón. del Gran Cardenal, ubi supra.

[27] Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib. 19, cap. 4.--Mariana, Hist. de España, tom. ii. lib. 26, cap. 7.--Suma de la Vida de Cisneros, MS.-- Quintanilla, Archetype, lib. 1, cap. 16.--Gomez, De rebus Gestis, fol. 11.--Carbajal, Anales, MS., año 1495.--Robles, Vida de Ximenez, cap. 13.-- Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS.

[28] Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 11.

[29] Ibid., ubi supra.--Robles, Vida de Ximenez, cap. 13, 14.

[30] "He kept five or six friars of his order," says Gonzalo de Oviedo, "in his palace with him, and as many asses in his stables; but the latter all grew sleek and fat, for the archbishop would not ride himself, nor allow his brethren to ride either." Quincuagenas, MS.

[31] Suma de la Vida de Cisneros, MS.--Quintanilla, Archetype, lib. 2, cap. 8, 9.--Gomez, de Rebus Gestis, fol. 12.--Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS.-- Robles, Vida de Ximenez, cap. 13.

[32] Gomez de Rebus Gestis, fol. 16. The Venetian minister Navagiero, noticing the condition of the canons of Toledo, some few years later, celebrates them, as "lording it above all others in their own city, being especial favorites with the ladies, dwelling in stately mansions, passing, in short, the most agreeable lives in the world, without any one to trouble them." Viaggio, fol. 9.

[33] Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 17.

[34] Quintanilla, Archetype, pp. 22, 23.--Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., tom. vi. p. 201.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 3, cap. 15.

[35] "Trataba las monjas," say Riol, "con un agrado y amor tan cariñoso, que las robaba los corazones, y hecha dueña de ellas, las persuadia non suavidad y eficacia á que votasen clausura. Y es cosa admirable, que raro fue el conventu donde entró esta celebre heroina, donde no lograse en el propio dia el efecto de su santo deseo." Informe, apud Semanario Erudito, tom. iii. p. 110.

[36] Fléchier, Hist. de Ximenes, pp. 56, 58.--Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 14.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 3, cap. 15.--Robles, Vida de Ximenez, cap. 13.

[37] Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 23.--Quintanilla, Archetypo, lib. 1, cap. 11.

[38] Quintanilla, Archetypo, lib. 1, cap. 13-14.--Riol discusses the various monastic reforms effected by Ximenes, in his Memorial to Philip V., apud Semanario Erudito, tom. iii. pp. 102-110.

[39] L. Marineo, Cosas Memorables, fol. 165.--Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 201.--et al.

[40] The practice of concubinage by the clergy was fully recognized, and the ancient fueros of Castile permitted their issue to inherit the estates of such parents as died intestate. (See Marina, Ensayo Histórico- Crítico sobre la Antigua Legislacion de Castilla, (Madrid, 1808,) p. 154.) The effrontery of these legalized strumpets, barraganas, as they were called, was at length so intolerable as to call for repeated laws, regulating their apparel, and prescribing a badge for distinguishing them from honest women. (Sempere, Hist. del Luxo, tom. i. pp. 165-169.) Spain is probably the only country in Christendom, where concubinage was ever sanctioned by law; a circumstance doubtless imputable, in some measure, to the influence of the Mahometans.

[41] Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 23.

CHAPTER VI.

XIMENES IN GRANADA--PERSECUTION, INSURRECTION, AND CONVERSION OF THE MOORS.

1499-1500.

Tranquil State of Granada.--Mild Policy of Talavera.--Clergy Dissatisfied with it.--Violent Measures of Ximenes.--His Fanaticism.--Its Mischievous Effects.--Insurrection in Granada.--Tranquillity Restored.--Baptism of the Inhabitants.

Moral energy, or constancy of purpose, seems to be less properly an independent power of the mind than a mode of action, by which its various powers operate with effect. But, however this may be, it enters more largely, perhaps, than mere talent, as commonly understood, into the formation of what is called character, and is often confounded by the vulgar with talent of the highest order. In the ordinary concerns of life, indeed, it is more serviceable than brilliant parts; while, in the more important, these latter are of little weight without it, evaporating only in brief and barren flashes, which may dazzle the eye by their splendor, but pass away and are forgotten.

The importance of moral energy is felt not only, where it would be expected, in the concerns of active life, but in those more exclusively of an intellectual character, in deliberative assemblies, for example, where talent, as usually understood, might be supposed to assert an absolute supremacy, but where it is invariably made to bend to the controlling influence of this principle. No man destitute of it can be the leader of a party; while there are few leaders, probably, who do not number in their ranks minds from which they would be compelled to shrink in a contest for purely intellectual pre-eminence.

This energy of purpose presents itself in a yet more imposing form when stimulated by some intense passion, as ambition, or the nobler principle of patriotism or religion; when the soul, spurning vulgar considerations of interest, is ready to do and to dare all for conscience' sake; when, insensible alike to all that this world can give or take away, it loosens itself from the gross ties which bind it to earth, and, however humble its powers in every other point of view, attains a grandeur and elevation, which genius alone, however gifted, can never reach.

But it is when associated with exalted genius, and under the action of the potent principles above mentioned, that this moral energy conveys an image of power, which approaches, nearer than anything else on earth, to that of a divine intelligence. It is, indeed, such agents that Providence selects for the accomplishment of those great revolutions, by which the world is shaken to its foundations, new and more beautiful systems created, and the human mind carried forward at a single stride, in the career of improvement, further than it had advanced for centuries. It must, indeed, be confessed, that this powerful agency is sometimes for evil, as well as for good. It is this same impulse, which spurs guilty Ambition along his bloody track, and which arms the hand of the patriot sternly to resist him; which glows with holy fervor in the bosom of the martyr, and which lights up the fires of persecution, by which he is to win his crown of glory. The direction of the impulse, differing in the same individual under different circumstances, can alone determine whether he shall be the scourge or the benefactor of his species.

These reflections have been suggested by the character of the extraordinary person brought forward in the preceding chapter, Ximenes de Cisneros, and the new and less advantageous aspect, in which he must now appear to the reader. Inflexible constancy of purpose formed, perhaps, the most prominent trait of his remarkable character. What direction it might have received under other circumstances it is impossible to say. It would be no great stretch of fancy to imagine, that the unyielding spirit, which in its early days could voluntarily endure years of imprisonment, rather than submit to an act of ecclesiastical oppression, might under similar influences have been aroused, like Luther's, to shake down the ancient pillars of Catholicism, instead of lending all its strength to uphold them. The latter position, however, would seem better assimilated to the constitution of his mind, whose sombre enthusiasm naturally prepared him for the vague and mysterious in the Romish faith, as his inflexible temper did for its bold and arrogant dogmas. At any rate, it was to this cause he devoted the whole strength of his talents and commanding energies.

We have seen, in the preceding chapter, with what promptness he entered on the reform of religious discipline, as soon as he came into office, and with what pertinacity he pursued it, in contempt of all personal interest and popularity. We are now to see him with similar zeal devoting himself to the extirpation of heresy; with contempt not merely of personal consequences, but also of the most obvious principles of good faith and national honor.

Nearly eight years had elapsed since the conquest of Granada, and the subjugated kingdom continued to repose in peaceful security under the shadow of the treaty, which guaranteed the unmolested enjoyment of its ancient laws and religion. This unbroken continuance of public tranquillity, especially difficult to be maintained among the jarring elements of the capital, whose motley population of Moors, renegades, and Christians suggested perpetual points of collision, must be chiefly referred to the discreet and temperate conduct of the two individuals whom Isabella had charged with the civil and ecclesiastical government. These were Mendoza, count of Tendilla, and Talavera, archbishop of Granada.

The former, the brightest ornament of his illustrious house, has been before made known to the reader by his various important services, both military and diplomatic. Immediately after the conquest of Granada he was made alcayde and captain general of the kingdom, a post for which he was every way qualified by his prudence, firmness, enlightened views, and long experience. [1]

The latter personage, of more humble extraction, [2] was Fray Fernando de Talavera, a Hieronymite monk, who, having been twenty years prior of the monastery of Santa Maria del Prado, near Valladolid, was made confessor of Queen Isabella, and afterwards of the king. This situation necessarily gave him considerable influence in all public measures. If the keeping of the royal conscience could be safely intrusted to any one, it might certainly be to this estimable prelate, equally distinguished for his learning, amiable manners, and unblemished piety; and, if his character was somewhat tainted with bigotry, it was in so mild a form, so far tempered by the natural benevolence of his disposition, as to make a favorable contrast to the dominant spirit of the time. [3]

After the conquest, he exchanged the bishopric of Avila for the archiepiscopal see of Granada. Notwithstanding the wishes of the sovereigns, he refused to accept any increase of emolument in this new and more exalted station. His revenues, indeed, which amounted to two millions of maravedies annually, were somewhat less than he before enjoyed. [4] The greater part of this sum he liberally expended on public improvements and works of charity; objects, which, to their credit be it spoken, have rarely failed to engage a large share of the attention and resources of the higher Spanish clergy. [5]

The subject which pressed most seriously on the mind of the good archbishop, was the conversion of the Moors, whose spiritual blindness he regarded with feelings of tenderness and charity, very different from those entertained by most of his reverend brethren. He proposed to accomplish this by the most rational method possible. Though late in life, he set about learning Arabic, that he might communicate with the Moors in their own language, and commanded his clergy to do the same. [6] He caused an Arabic vocabulary, grammar, and catechism to be compiled; and a version in the same tongue to be made of the liturgy, comprehending the selections from the Gospels; and proposed to extend this at some future time to the whole body of the Scriptures. [7] Thus unsealing the sacred oracles which had been hitherto shut out from their sight, he opened to them the only true sources of Christian knowledge; and, by endeavoring to effect their conversion through the medium of their understandings, instead of seducing their imaginations with a vain show of ostentatious ceremonies, proposed the only method by which conversion could be sincere and permanent.

These wise and benevolent measures of the good prelate, recommended, as they were, by the most exemplary purity of life, acquired him great authority among the Moors, who, estimating the value of the doctrine by its fruits, were well inclined to listen to it, and numbers were daily added to the church. [8]

The progress of proselytism, however, was necessarily slow and painful among a people reared from the cradle, not merely in antipathy to, but abhorrence of, Christianity; who were severed from the Christian community by strong dissimilarity of language, habits, and institutions; and now indissolubly knit together by a common sense of national misfortune. Many of the more zealous clergy and religious persons, conceiving, indeed, this barrier altogether insurmountable, were desirous of seeing it swept away at once by the strong arm of power. They represented to the sovereigns, that it seemed like insensibility to the goodness of Providence, which had delivered the infidels into their hands, to allow them any longer to usurp the fair inheritance of the Christians, and that the whole of the stiff- necked race of Mahomet might justly be required to submit without exception to instant baptism, or to sell their estates and remove to Africa. This, they maintained, could be scarcely regarded as an infringement of the treaty, since the Moors would be so great gainers on the score of their eternal salvation; to say nothing of the indispensableness of such a measure to the permanent tranquillity and security of the kingdom. [9]

But these considerations, "just and holy as they were," to borrow the words of a devout Spaniard, [10] failed to convince the sovereigns, who resolved to abide by their royal word, and to trust to the conciliatory measures now in progress, and a longer and more intimate intercourse with the Christians, as the only legitimate means for accomplishing their object. Accordingly, we find the various public ordinances, as low down as 1499, recognizing this principle, by the respect which they show for the most trivial usages of the Moors, [11] and by their sanctioning no other stimulant to conversion than the amelioration of their condition. [12] Among those in favor of more active measures was Ximenes, archbishop of Toledo. Having followed the court to Granada in the autumn of 1499, he took the occasion to communicate his views to Talavera, the archbishop, requesting leave at the same time to participate with him in his labor of love; to which the latter, willing to strengthen himself by so efficient an ally, modestly assented. Ferdinand and Isabella soon after removed to Seville; but, before their departure, enjoined on the prelates to observe the temperate policy hitherto pursued, and to beware of giving any occasion for discontent to the Moors. [13]

No sooner had the sovereigns left the city, than Ximenes invited some of the leading alfaquies, or Mussulman doctors, to a conference, in which he expounded, with all the eloquence at his command, the true foundations of the Christian faith, and the errors of their own; and, that his teaching might be the more palatable, enforced it by liberal presents, consisting mostly of rich and costly articles of dress, of which the Moors were at all times exceedingly fond. This policy he pursued for some time, till the effect became visible. Whether the preaching or presents of the archbishop had most weight, does not appear. [14] It is probable, however, that the Moorish doctors found conversion a much more pleasant and profitable business than they had anticipated; for they one after another declared their conviction of their errors, and their willingness to receive baptism. The example of these learned persons was soon followed by great numbers of their illiterate disciples, insomuch that no less than four thousand are said to have presented themselves in one day for baptism; and Ximenes, unable to administer the rite to each individually, was obliged to adopt the expedient familiar to the Christian missionaries, of christening them en masse by aspersion; scattering the consecrated drops from a mop, or hyssop, as it was called, which he twirled over the heads of the multitude. [15]

So far all went on prosperously; and the eloquence and largesses of the archbishop, which latter he lavished so freely as to encumber his revenues for several years to come, brought crowds of proselytes to the Christian fold. [16] There were some, indeed, among the Mahometans, who regarded these proceedings as repugnant, if not to the letter, at least to the spirit of the original treaty of capitulation; which seemed intended to provide, not only against the employment of force, but of any undue incentive to conversion. [17] Several of the more sturdy, including some of the principal citizens, exerted their efforts to stay the tide of defection, which threatened soon to swallow up the whole population of the city. But Ximenes, whose zeal had mounted up to fever heat in the excitement of success, was not to be cooled by any opposition, however formidable; and if he had hitherto respected the letter of the treaty, he now showed himself to be prepared to trample on letter and spirit indifferently, when they crossed his designs.

Among those most active in the opposition was a noble Moor named Zegri, well skilled in the learning of his countrymen, with whom he had great consideration. Ximenes having exhausted all his usual artillery of arguments and presents on this obdurate infidel, had him taken into custody by one of his officers named Leon, "a lion," says a punning historian, "by nature as well as by name," [18] and commanded the latter to take such measures with his prisoner, as would clear the film from his eyes. This faithful functionary executed his orders so effectually, that, after a few days of fasting, fetters, and imprisonment, he was able to present his charge to his employer, penitent to all outward appearance, and with an humble mien strongly contreating with his former proud and lofty bearing. After the most respectful obeisance to the archbishop, Zegri informed him, that "on the preceding night he had had a revelation from Allah, who had condescended to show him the error of his ways, and commanded him to receive instant baptism;" at the same time, pointing to his jailer, he "jocularly" remarked, "Your reverence has only to turn this lion of yours loose among the people, and my word for it, there will not be a Mussulman left many days within the walls of Granada." [19] "Thus," exclaims the devout Ferreras, "did Providence avail itself of the darkness of the dungeon to pour on the benighted minds of the infidel the light of the true faith!" [20]

The work of proselytism now went on apace; for terror was added to the other stimulants. The zealous propagandist, in the mean while, flushed with success, resolved not only to exterminate infidelity, but the very characters in which its teachings were recorded. He accordingly caused all the Arabic manuscripts which he could procure to be heaped together in a common pile in one of the great squares of the city. The largest part were copies of the Koran, or works in some way or other connected with theology; with many others, however, on various scientific subjects. They were beautifully executed, for the most part, as to their chirography, and sumptuously bound and decorated; for, in all relating to the mechanical finishing, the Spanish Arabs excelled every people in Europe. But neither splendor of outward garniture, nor intrinsic merit of composition, could atone for the taint of heresy in the eye of the stern inquisitor; he reserved for his university of Alcalá three hundred works, indeed, relating to medical science, in which the Moors were as pre-eminent in that day as the Europeans were deficient; but all the rest, amounting to many thousands, [21] he consigned to indiscriminate conflagration. [22]

This melancholy auto da fe, it will be recollected, was celebrated, not by an unlettered barbarian, but by a cultivated prelate, who was at that very time actively employing his large revenues in the publication of the most stupendous literary work of the age, and in the endowment of the most learned university in Spain. [23] It took place, not in the darkness of the Middle Ages, but in the dawn of the sixteenth century, and in the midst of an enlightened nation, deeply indebted for its own progress to these very stores of Arabian wisdom. It forms a counterpart to the imputed sacrilege of Omar, [24] eight centuries before, and shows that bigotry is the same in every faith and every age.

The mischief occasioned by this act, far from being limited to the immediate loss, continued to be felt still more severely in its consequences. Such as could, secreted the manuscripts in their possession till an opportunity occurred for conveying them out of the country; and many thousands in this way were privately shipped over to Barbary. [25] Thus Arabian literature became rare in the libraries of the very country to which it was indigenous; the Arabic scholarship, once so flourishing in Spain, and that too in far less polished ages, gradually fell into decay from want of aliment to sustain it. Such were the melancholy results of this literary persecution; more mischievous, in one view, than even that directed against life; for the loss of an individual will scarcely be felt beyond his own generation, while the annihilation of a valuable work, or, in other words, of mind itself embodied in a permanent form, is a loss to all future time.

The high hand with which Ximenes now carried measures, excited serious alarm in many of the more discreet and temperate Castilians in the city. They besought him to use greater forbearance, remonstrating against his obvious violations of the treaty, as well as against the expediency of forced conversions, which could not, in the nature of things, be lasting. But the pertinacious prelate only replied, that, "A tamer policy might, indeed, suit temporal matters, but not those in which the interests of the soul were at stake; that the unbeliever, if he could not be drawn, should be driven, into the way of salvation; and that it was no time to stay the hand, when the ruins of Mahometanism were tottering to their foundations." He accordingly went on with unflinching resolution. [26]

But the patience of the Moors themselves, which had held out so marvellously under this system of oppression, began now to be exhausted. Many signs of this might be discerned by much less acute optics than those of the archbishop; but his were blinded by the arrogance of success. At length, in this inflammable state of public feeling, an incident occurred which led to a general explosion.

Three of Ximenes's servants were sent on some business to the Albayein, a quarter inhabited exclusively by Moors, and encompassed by walls which separated it from the rest of the city. [27] These men had made themselves peculiarly odious to the people by their activity in their master's service. A dispute, having arisen between them and some inhabitants of the quarter, came at last to blows, when two of the servants were massacred on the spot, and their comrade escaped with difficulty from the infuriated mob. [28] The affair operated as the signal for insurrection. The inhabitants of the district ran to arms, got possession of the gates, barricaded the streets, and in a few hours the whole Albayein was in rebellion. [29]

In the course of the following night, a large number of the enraged populace made their way into the city to the quarters of Ximenes, with the purpose of taking summary vengeance on his head for all his persecutions. Fortunately, his palace was strong, and defended by numerous resolute and well-armed attendants. The latter, at the approach of the rioters, implored their master to make his escape, if possible, to the fortress of the Alhambra, where the count of Tendilla was established. But the intrepid prelate, who held life too cheap to be a coward, exclaimed, "God forbid I should think of my own safety, when so many of the faithful are perilling theirs! No, I will stand to my post and wait there, if Heaven wills it, the crown of martyrdom." [30] It must be confessed he well deserved it.

The building, however, proved too strong for the utmost efforts of the mob; and, at length, after some hours of awful suspense and agitation to the beleaguered inmates, the count of Tendilla arrived in person at the head of his guards, and succeeded in dispersing the insurgents, and driving them back to their own quarters. But no exertions could restore order to the tumultuous populace, or induce them to listen to terms; and they even stoned the messenger charged with pacific proposals from the count of Tendilla. They organized themselves under leaders, provided arms, and took every possible means for maintaining their defence. It seemed as if, smitten with the recollections of ancient liberty, they were resolved to recover it again at all hazards. [31] At length, after this disorderly state of things had lasted for several days, Talavera, the archbishop of Granada, resolved to try the effect of his personal influence, hitherto so great with the Moors, by visiting himself the disaffected quarter. This noble purpose he put in execution, in spite of the most earnest remonstrances of his friends. He was attended only by his chaplain, bearing the crucifix before him, and a few of his domestics, on foot and unarmed like himself. At the site of their venerable pastor, with his countenance beaming with the same serene and benign expression with which they were familiar when listening to his exhortations from the pulpit, the passions of the multitude were stilled. Every one seemed willing to abandon himself to the tender recollections of the past; and the simple people crowded around the good man, kneeling down and kissing the hem of his robe, as if to implore his benediction. The count of Tendilla no sooner learned the issue, than he followed into the Albayein, attended by a handful of soldiers. When he had reached the place where the mob was gathered, he threw his bonnet into the midst of them, in token of his pacific intentions. The action was received with acclamations, and the people, whose feelings had now taken another direction, recalled by his presence to the recollection of his uniformly mild and equitable rule, treated him with similar respect to that shown the archbishop of Granada. [32]

These two individuals took advantage of this favorable change of feeling to expostulate with the Moors on the folly and desperation of their conduct, which must involve them in a struggle with such overwhelming odds as that of the whole Spanish monarchy. They implored them to lay down their arms and return to their duty, in which event they pledged themselves, as far as in their power, to allow no further repetition of the grievances complained of, and to intercede for their pardon with the sovereigns. The count testified his sincerity, by leaving his wife and two children as hostages in the heart of the Albayein; an act which must be admitted to imply unbounded confidence in the integrity of the Moors. [33] These various measures, backed, moreover, by the counsels and authority of some of the chief alfaquis, had the effect to restore tranquillity among the people, who, laying aside their hostile preparations, returned once more to their regular employments. [34]

The rumor of the insurrection, in the mean while, with the usual exaggeration, reached Seville, where the court was then residing. In one respect rumor did justice, by imputing the whole blame of the affair to the intemperate zeal of Ximenes. That personage, with his usual promptness, had sent early notice of the affair to the queen by a negro slave uncommonly fleet of foot. But the fellow had become intoxicated by the way, and the court were several days without any more authentic tidings than general report. The king, who always regarded Ximenes's elevation to the primacy, to the prejudice, as the reader may remember, of his own son, with dissatisfaction, could not now restrain his indignation, but was heard to exclaim tauntingly to the queen, "So we are like to pay dear for your archbishop, whose rashness has lost us in a few hours what we have been years in acquiring." [35]

The queen, confounded at the tidings, and unable to comprehend the silence of Ximenes, instantly wrote to him in the severest terms, demanding an explanation of the whole proceeding. The archbishop saw his error in committing affairs of moment to such hands as those of his sable messenger; and the lesson stood him in good stead, according to his moralizing biographer, for the remainder of his life. [36] He hastened to repair his fault by proceeding to Seville in person, and presenting himself before the sovereigns. He detailed to them the history of all the past transactions; recapitulated his manifold services, the arguments and exhortations he had used, the large sums he had expended, and his various expedients, in short, for effecting conversion, before resorting to severity. He boldly assumed the responsibility of the whole proceeding, acknowledging that he had purposely avoided communicating his plans to the sovereigns for fear of opposition. If he had erred, he said, it could be imputed to no other motive, at worst, than too great zeal for the interests of religion; but he concluded with assuring them, that the present position of affairs was the best possible for their purposes, since the late conduct of the Moors involved them in the guilt, and consequently all the penalties of treason, and that it would be an act of clemency to offer pardon on the alternatives of conversion or exile! [37]

The archbishop's discourse, if we are to credit his enthusiastic biographer, not only dispelled the clouds of royal indignation, but drew forth the most emphatic expressions of approbation. [38] How far Ferdinand and Isabella were moved to this by his final recommendation, or what, in clerical language, may be called the "improvement of his discourse," does not appear. They did not at any rate adopt it in its literal extent. In due time, however, commissioners were sent to Granada, fully authorized to inquire into the late disturbances and punish their guilty authors. In the course of the investigation, many, including some of the principal citizens, were imprisoned on suspicion. The greater part made their peace by embracing Christianity. Many others sold their estates and migrated to Barbary; and the remainder of the population, whether from fear of punishment, or contagion of example, abjured their ancient superstition and consented to receive baptism. The whole number of converts was estimated at about fifty thousand, whose future relapses promised an almost inexhaustible supply for the fiery labors of the Inquisition. From this period the name of Moors, which had gradually superseded the primitive one of Spanish Arabs, gave way to the title of Moriscoes, by which this unfortunate people continued to be known through the remainder of their protracted existence in the Peninsula. [39]

The circumstances, under which this important revolution in religion was effected in the whole population of this great city, will excite only feelings of disgust at the present day, mingled, indeed, with compassion for the unhappy beings, who so heedlessly incurred the heavy liabilities attached to their new faith. Every Spaniard, doubtless, anticipated the political advantages likely to result from a measure, which divested the Moors of the peculiar immunities secured by the treaty of capitulation, and subjected them at once to the law of the land. It is equally certain, however, that they attached great value in a spiritual view to the mere show of conversion, placing implicit confidence in the purifying influence of the waters of baptism, to whomever and under whatever circumstances administered. Even the philosophic Martyr, as little tinctured with bigotry as any of the time, testifies his joy at the conversion, on the ground, that, although it might not penetrate beneath the crust of infidelity, which had formed over the mind of the older and of course inveterate Mussulman, yet it would have full effect on his posterity, subjected from the cradle to the searching operation of Christian discipline. [40]

With regard to Ximenes, the real author of the work, whatever doubts were entertained of his discretion, in the outset, they were completely dispelled by the results. All concurred in admiring the invincible energy of the man, who, in the face of such mighty obstacles, had so speedily effected this momentous revolution in the faith of a people, bred from childhood in the deadliest hostility to Christianity; [41] and the good archbishop Talavera was heard in the fulness of his heart to exclaim, that "Ximenes had achieved greater triumphs than even Ferdinand and Isabella; since they had conquered only the soil, while he had gained the souls of Granada!" [42]

FOOTNOTES

[1] "Hombre," says his son, the historian, of him, "de prudencia en negocios graves, de animo firme, asegurado con luenga experiencia de rencuentros i battallas ganadas." (Guerra de Granada, lib. 1, p. 9.) Oviedo dwells with sufficient amplification on the personal history and merits of this distinguished individual, in his garrulous reminiscences. Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 1, dial. 28.

[2] Oviedo, at least, can find no better pedigree for him, than that of Adam. "Quanto á su linage él fué del linage de todos los humanos ó de aquel barro y subcesion de Adan." (Quincuagenas, MS. dial. de Talavera.) It is a very hard case, when a Castilian cannot make out a better genealogy for his hero.

[3] Pedraza, Antiguedad de Granada, lib. 3, cap. 10.--Marmol, Rebelion de Moriscos, lib. 1, cap. 21. Talavera's correspondence with the queen, published in various works, but most correctly, probably, in the sixth volume of the Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., (Ilust. 13,) is not calculated to raise his reputation. His letters are little else than homilies on the love of company, dancing, and the like heinous offences. The whole savors more of the sharp twang of Puritanism than that of the Roman Catholic school. But bigotry is neutral ground, on which the most opposite sects may meet.

[4] Pedraza, Antiguedad de Granada, lib. 3, cap. 10.--Marmol, lib. 1, cap. 21.

Equivalent to 56,000 dollars of the present day; a sum which Pedraza makes do quite as hard duty, according to its magnitude, as the 500 pounds of Pope's Man of Ross.

[5] Pedraza, ubi supra.--Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS., dial. de Talavera.

The worthy archbishop's benefactions on some occasions were of rather an extraordinary character. "Pidiendole limosna," says Pedraza, "Una muger que no tenia camisa, se entró en una casa, y se desnudó la suya y se la dio; diziendo con san Pedro, No tengo oro ni plata que darte, doyte lo que tengo." Antiguedad de Granada, lib. 3, cap. 10.

[6] Marmol, Rebelion de Moriscos, lib. 1, cap. 21.--Pedraza, Antiguedad de Granada, ubi supra.

[7] Fléchier, Hist. de Ximenes, p. 17.--Quintanilla, Archetypo, lib. 2, cap. 2.--Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 32.--Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS.

These tracts were published at Granada, in 1505, in the European character, being the first books ever printed in the Arabic language, according to Dr. M'Crie, (Reformation in Spain, p. 70,) who cites Schnurrer, Bibl. Arabica, pp. 16-18.

[8] Bleda, Corónica, lib. 5, cap. 23.--Pedraza, Antiguedad de Granada, lib. 3, cap. 10.--Marmol, Rebelion de Moriscos, lib. 1, cap. 21.--Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 29.--"Hacia lo que predicaba, é predicó lo que hizo," says Oviedo of the archbishop, briefly, "é así fué mucho provechoso é util en aquella ciudad para la conversion de los Moros." Quincuagenas, MS.

[9] Marmol, Rebelion de Moriscos, lib. 1, cap. 23.

[10] Ibid., ubi supra.

[11] In the pragmática dated Granada, October 30th, 1499, prohibiting silk apparel of any description, an exception was made in favor of the Moors, whose robes were usually of that material, among the wealthier classes. Pragmáticas del Reyno, fol. 120.

[12] Another law, October 31st, 1499, provided against the disinheritance of Moorish children who had embraced Christianity, and secured, moreover, to the female converts a portion of the property which had fallen to the state on the conquest of Granada. (Pragmáticas del Reyno, fol. 5.)-- Llorente has reported this pragmatic with some inaccuracy. Hist. de l'Inquisition, tom. i. p. 334.

[13] Bleda, Corónica, lib. 5, cap. 23.--Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 29.-- Quintanilla, Archetypo, lib. 2, p. 54.--Suma de la Vida de Cisneros, MS. Ferdinand and Isabella, according to Ferreras, took counsel of sundry learned theologians and jurists, whether they could lawfully compel the Mahometans to become Christians, notwithstanding the treaty, which guaranteed to them the exercise of their religion. After repeated conferences of this erudite body, "il fut decidé," says the historian, "qu'on solliciteroit la conversion des Mahometans de la Ville et du Royaume de Grenade, en ordonnant à ceux qui ne voudroient pas embrasser la religion Chrétienne, de vendre leurs biens et de sortir du royaume." (Hist. d'Espagne, tom. viii. p. 194.) Such was the idea of solicitation entertained by these reverend casuists! The story, however, wants a better voucher than Ferreras.

[14] The honest Robles appears to be of the latter opinion. "Alfin," says he, with naïveté, "con halagos, dadivas, y caricias, los truxo a conocimiento del verdadero Dios." Vida de Ximenez, p. 100.

[15] Robles, Vida de Ximenez, cap. 14.--Marmol, Rebelion de Moriscos, lib. 1, cap. 24.--Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 29.--Suma de la Vida de Cisneros, MS.

[16] Robles, Vida de Ximenez, cap. 14.--Quintanilla, Archetypo, fol. 55.-- The sound of bells, so unusual to Mahometan ears, pealing day and night from the newly consecrated mosques, gained Ximenes the appellation of alfaqui campanero from the Granadines. Suma de la Vida de Cisneros, MS.

[17] Marmol, Rebelion de Moriscos, lib. 1, cap. 25.

Take for example the following provisions in the treaty. "Que si algun Moro tuviere alguna renegada por muger, no será apremiada á ser Christiana contra su voluntad, sino que será interrogada, en presencia de Christianos y de Moros, y se siguirá su voluntad; y lo mesmo se entenderá con los niños y niñas nacidos de Christiana y Moro. Que ningun Moro ni Mora serán apremiados á ser Christianos contra su voluntad; y que si alguna doncella, ó casada, ó viuda, por razon de algunos amores se quisiere tornar Christiana, tampoco será recebida, hasta ser interrogada." The whole treaty is given in extenso by Marmol, and by no other author that I have seen.

[18] Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, lib. 1, fol. 29.

[19] Robles, Rebelion de Moriscos, cap. 14.--Suma de la Vida de Cisneros, MS.--Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 30.--Marmol, Rebelion de Moriscos, lib. 1, cap. 25.

Zegri assumed the baptismal name of the Great Captain, Gonzalo Hernandez, whose prowess he had experienced in a personal rencontre in the vega of Granada. Marmol, Rebelion de Moriscos, ubi supra.--Suma de la Vida de Cisneros, MS.

[20] Hist. d'Espagne, tom. viii. p. 195.

[21] According to Robles, (Rebelion de Moriscos, p. 104,) and the Suma de la Vida de Cisneros, 1,005,000; to Conde, (El Nubiense, Descripcion d'España, p. 4, note,) 80,000; to Gomez and others, 5000. There are scarcely any data for arriving at probability in this monstrous discrepancy. The famous library of the Ommeyades at Cordova was said to contain 600,000 volumes. It had long since been dissipated; and no similar collection had been attempted in Granada, where learning was never in that palmy state which it reached under the Cordovan dynasty. Still, however, learned men were to be found there, and the Moorish metropolis would naturally be the depository of such literary treasures as had escaped the general shipwreck of time and accident. On the whole, the estimate of Gomez would appear much too small, and that of Robles as disproportionately exaggerated. Conde, better instructed in Arabic lore than any of his predecessors, may be found, perhaps, here, as elsewhere, the best authority.

[22] Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, lib. 2, fol. 30.--Marmol, Rebelion de Moriscos, lib. 1, cap. 25.--Robles, Vida de Ximenez, cap. 14.--Suma de la Vida de Cisneros, MS.--Quintanilla, Archetypo, p. 58.

[23] Yet the archbishop might find some countenance for his fanaticism in the most polite capital of Europe. The faculty of Theology in Paris, some few years later, declared "que c'en était fait de la religion, si on permettait l'etude du Grec et de l'Hebreu!" Villers, Essai sur l'Esprit et l'Influence de la Réformation de Luther, (Paris, 1820,) p. 64, note.

[24] Gibbon's argument, if it does not shake the foundations of the whole story of the Alexandrian conflagration, may at least raise a natural skepticism as to the pretended amount and value of the works destroyed.

[25] The learned Granadine, Leo Africanus, who emigrated to Fez after the fall of the capital, notices a single collection of 3000 manuscripts belonging to an individual, which he saw in Algiers, whither they had been secretly brought by the Moriscoes from Spain.--Conde, Dominacion de los Arabes, prólogo.--Casiri, Bibliotheca Escurialensis, tom. i. p. 172.

[26] Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 30.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, rey 30, cap. 10.

[27] Casiri, Bibliotheca Escurialensis, tom. ii. p. 281.--Pedraza, Antiguedad de Granada, lib. 3, cap. 10.

[28] Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 31. There are some discrepancies, not important, however, between the narrative of Gomez and the other authorities. Gomez, considering his uncommon opportunities of information, is worth them all.

[29] Suma de la Vida de Cisneros, MS.--Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, lib. 2, fol. 31.--Marmol, Rebelion de Moriscos, lib. 1, cap. 26.

[30] Robles, Vida de Ximenez, cap. 14.--Mariana, Hist. de España, tom. ii. lib. 27, cap. 5.--Quintanilla, Archetype, p. 56.--Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 212.

[31] Mariana, Hist. de España, ubi supra.--Bleda, Corónica, lib. 5, cap. 23.--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, p. 11.

[32] Marmol, Rebelion de Moriscos, lib. 1, cap. 25.--Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 212.--Quintanilla, Archetype, p. 56.--Bleda, Corónica, ubi supra.

[33] Marmol, Rebelion de Moriscos, loc cit.--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, lib. 1, p. 11. That such confidence was justified, may be inferred from a common saying of Archbishop Talavera, "That Moorish works and Spanish faith were all that were wanting to make a good Christian." A bitter sarcasm this on his own countrymen! Pedraza, Antiguedad de Granada, lib. 3, cap. 10.

[34] Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 212.--Bleda, Corónica, loc. cit.-- Marmol, Rebelion de Moriscos, ubi supra.

[35] Mariana, Hist. de España, tom. ii. lib. 27, cap. 5.--Robles, Vida de Ximenez, 14.--Suma de la Vida de Cisneros, MS.

[36] Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 32.--Robles, Vida de Ximenez, cap. 14.

[37] Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, ubi supra.

[38] Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 33.--Suma de la Vida de Cisneros, MS.

[39] Bleda, Corónica, lib. 5, cap. 23.--Mariana, Hist. de España, tom. ii. lib. 27, cap. 5.--Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 215.--Marmol, Rebelion de Moriscos, lib. 1, cap. 27.--Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, lib. 2, fol. 32.-- Lanuza, Historias, tom. i. lib. 1, cap. 11.--Carbajal, Anales, MS., año 1500.--Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 159.--The last author carries the number of converts in Granada and its environs to 70,000.

[40] "Tu vero inquies," he says, in a letter to the cardinal of Santa Cruz, "hisdem in snum Mahometem vivent animis, atque id jure merito suspicandum est. Durum namque majorum institute relinquere; attamen ego existimo, consultum optime fuisse ipsorum admittere postulata: paulatim namque nova superveniente disciplina, juvenun saltem et infantum atque eo tutius nepotum, inanibus illis superstitionibus abrasis, novis imbuentur ritibus. De senescentibus, qui callosis animis induruerunt, haud ego quidem id futurum inficior." Opus Epist., epist. 215.--Also, Carta de Gonzalo, MS.

[41] "Magnae deinceps," says Gomez, "apud omnes veneration! Ximenius esse cospit.--Porro plus mentis acie videre quam solent homines credebatur, qufid re ancipiti, neque plane confirmata, barbara civitate adhoc suum Mahumetum spirante, tanza animi contentione, ut Christi doctrinam amplecterentur, laboraverat et effecerat." (De Rebus Gestis, fol. 33.) The panegyric of the Spaniard is endorsed by Fléchier, (Histoire de Ximenes, p. 119,) who, in the age of Louis XIV., displays all the bigotry of that of Ferdinand and Isabella.

[42] Talavera, as I have already noticed, had caused the offices, catechisms, and other religious exercises to be translated into Arabic for the use of the converts; proposing to extend the translation at some future time to the great body of the Scriptures. That time had now arrived, but Ximenes vehemently remonstrated against the measure. "It would be throwing pearls before swine," said he, "to open the Scriptures to persons in their low state of ignorance, who could not fail, as St. Paul says, to wrest them to their own destruction. The word of God should be wrapped in discreet mystery from the vulgar, who feel little reverence for what is plain and obvious. It was for this reason, that our Saviour himself clothed his doctrines in parables, when he addressed the people. The Scriptures should be confined to the three ancient languages, which God with mystic import permitted to be inscribed over the head of his crucified Son; and the vernacular should be reserved for such devotional and moral treatises, as holy men indite, in order to quicken the soul, and turn it from the pursuit of worldly vanities to heavenly contemplation." De Rebus Gestis, fol. 32, 33.

The narrowest opinion, as usual, prevailed, and Talavera abandoned his wise and benevolent purpose. The sagacious arguments of the primate lead his biographer, Gomez, to conclude, that he had a prophetic knowledge of the coming heresy of Luther, which owed so much of its success to the vernacular versions of the Scriptures; in which probable opinion he is faithfully echoed, as usual, by the good bishop of Nismes. Fléchier, Hist. de Ximenés, pp. 117-119.

CHAPTER VII.

RISING IN THE ALPUXARRAS.--DEATH OF ALONSO DE AGUILAR.--EDICT AGAINST THE MOORS.

1500-1502.

Rising in the Alpuxarras.--Expedition to the Sierra Vermeja.--Alonso de Aguilar.--His Noble Character, and Death.--Bloody Rout of the Spaniards.-- Final Submission to Ferdinand.--Cruel Policy of the Victors.-- Commemorative Ballads.--Edict against the Moors,--Causes of Intolerance.-- Last Notice of the Moors under the Present Reign.

While affairs went forward so triumphantly in the capital of Granada, they excited general discontent in other parts of that kingdom, especially the wild regions of the Alpuxarras. This range of maritime Alps, which stretches to the distance of seventeen leagues in a southeasterly direction from the Moorish capital, sending out its sierras like so many broad arms towards the Mediterranean, was thickly sprinkled with Moorish villages, cresting the bald summits of the mountains, or checkering the green slopes and valleys which lay between them. Its simple inhabitants, locked up within the lonely recesses of their hills, and accustomed to a life of penury and toil, had escaped the corruptions as well as refinements of civilization. In ancient times they had afforded a hardy militia for the princes of Granada; and they now exhibited an unshaken attachment to their ancient institutions and religion, which had been somewhat effaced in the great cities by more intimate intercourse with the Europeans. [1]

These warlike mountaineers beheld with gathering resentment the faithless conduct pursued towards their countrymen, which, they had good reason to fear, would soon be extended to themselves; and their fiery passions were inflamed to an ungovernable height by the public apostasy of Granada. They at length resolved to anticipate any similar attempt on themselves by a general insurrection. They accordingly seized on the fortresses and strong passes throughout the country, and began as usual with forays into the lands of the Christians.

These bold acts excited much alarm in the capital, and the count of Tendilla took vigorous measures for quenching the rebellion in its birth. Gonsalvo de Cordova, his early pupil, but who might now well be his master in the art of war, was at that time residing in Granada; and Tendilla availed himself of his assistance to enforce a hasty muster of levies, and march at once against the enemy.

His first movement was against Huejar, a fortified town situated in one of the eastern ranges of the Alpuxarras, whose inhabitants had taken the lead in the insurrection. The enterprise was attended with more difficulty than was expected. "God's enemies," to borrow the charitable epithet of the Castilian chroniclers, had ploughed up the lands in the neighborhood; and, as the light cavalry of the Spaniards was working its way through the deep furrows, the Moors opened the canals which intersected the fields, and in a moment the horses were floundering up to their girths in the mire and water. Thus embarrassed in their progress, the Spaniards presented a fatal mark to the Moorish missiles, which rained on them with pitiless fury; and it was not without great efforts and considerable loss, that they gained a firm landing on the opposite side. Undismayed, however, they then charged the enemy with such vivacity, as compelled him to give way and take refuge within the defences of the town.

No impediment could now check the ardor of the assailants. They threw themselves from their horses, and, bringing forward the scaling-ladders, planted them against the walls. Gonsalvo was the first to gain the summit; and, as a powerful Moor endeavored to thrust him from the topmost round of the ladder, he grasped the battlements firmly with his left hand and dealt the infidel such a blow with the sword in his right, as brought him headlong to the ground. He then leapt into the place, and was speedily followed by his troops. The enemy made a brief and ineffectual resistance. The greater part were put to the sword; the remainder, including the women and children, were made slaves, and the town was delivered up to pillage. [2]

The severity of this military execution had not the effect of intimidating the insurgents; and the revolt wore so serious an aspect, that King Ferdinand found it necessary to take the field in person, which he did at the head of as complete and beautiful a body of Castilian chivalry as ever graced the campaigns of Granada. [3] Quitting Alhendin, the place of rendezvous, in the latter end of February, 1500, he directed his march on Lanjaron, one of the towns most active in the revolt, and perched high among the inaccessible fastnesses of the sierra, southeast of Granada.

The inhabitants, trusting to the natural strength of a situation, which had once baffled the arms of the bold Moorish chief El Zagal, took no precautions to secure the passes. Ferdinand, relying on this, avoided the more direct avenue to the place; and, bringing his men by a circuitous route over dangerous ravines and dark and dizzy precipices, where the foot of the hunter had seldom ventured, succeeded at length, after incredible toil and hazard, in reaching an elevated point, which entirely commanded the Moorish fortress.

Great was the dismay of the insurgents at the apparition of the Christian banners, streaming in triumph in the upper air, from the very pinnacles of the sierra. They stoutly persisted, however, in the refusal to surrender. But their works were too feeble to stand the assault of men, who had vanquished the more formidable obstacles of nature; and, after a short struggle, the place was carried by storm, and its wretched inmates experienced the same dreadful fate with those of Huejar. [4]

At nearly the same time, the count of Lerin took several other fortified places in the Alpuxarras, in one of which he blew up a mosque filled with women and children. Hostilities were carried on with all the ferocity of a civil, or rather servile war; and the Spaniards, repudiating all the feelings of courtesy and generosity, which they had once shown to the same men, when dealing with them as honorable enemies, now regarded them only as rebellious vassals, or indeed slaves, whom the public safety required to be not merely chastised, but exterminated.

These severities, added to the conviction of their own impotence, at length broke the spirit of the Moors, who were reduced to the most humble concessions; and the Catholic king, "unwilling out of his great clemency," says Abarca, "to stain his sword with the blood of all these wild beasts of the Alpuxarras," consented to terms, which may be deemed reasonable, at least in comparison with his previous policy. These were, the surrender of their arms and fortresses and the payment of the round sum of fifty thousand ducats. [5]

As soon as tranquillity was re-established, measures were taken for securing it permanently, by introducing Christianity among the natives, without which they never could remain well affected to their present government. Holy men were therefore sent as missionaries, to admonish them, calmly and without violence, of their errors, and to instruct them in the great truths of revelation. [6] Various immunities were also proposed, as an additional incentive to conversion, including an entire exemption to the party from the payment of his share of the heavy mulct lately imposed. [7] The wisdom of these temperate measures became every day more visible in the conversion, not merely of the simple mountaineers, but of nearly all the population of the great cities of Baza, Guadix, and Almeria, who consented before the end of the year to abjure their ancient religion, and receive baptism. [8]

This defection, however, caused great scandal among the more sturdy of their countrymen, and a new insurrection broke out on the eastern confines of the Alpuxarras, which was suppressed with similar circumstances of stern severity,. and a similar exaction of a heavy sum of money;--money, whose doubtful efficacy may be discerned, sometimes in staying, but more frequently in stimulating, the arm of persecution. [9]

But while the murmurs of rebellion died away in the east, they were heard in thunders from the distant hills on the western borders of Granada. This district, comprehending the sierras Vermeja and Villa Luenga, in the neighborhood of Ronda, was peopled by a warlike race, among whom was the African tribe of Gandules, whose blood boiled with the same tropical fervor as that which glowed in the veins of their ancestors. They had early shown symptoms of discontent at the late proceedings in the capital. The duchess of Arcos, widow of the great marquis duke of Cadiz, whose estates lay in that quarter, [10] used her personal exertions to appease them; and the government made the most earnest assurances of its intention to respect whatever had been guaranteed by the treaty of capitulation. [11] But they had learned to place little trust in princes; and the rapidly extending apostasy of their countrymen exasperated them to such a degree, that they at length broke out in the most atrocious acts of violence; murdering the Christian missionaries, and kidnapping, if report be true, many Spaniards of both sexes, whom they sold as slaves in Africa. They were accused, with far more probability, of entering into a secret correspondence with their brethren on the opposite shore, in order to secure their support in the meditated revolt. [12]

The government displayed its usual promptness and energy on this occasion. Orders were issued to the principal chiefs and cities of Andalusia, to muster their forces with all possible despatch, and concentrate them on Ronda.

The summons was obeyed with such alacrity, that, in the course of a very few weeks, the streets of that busy city were thronged with a shining array of warriors drawn from all the principal towns of Andalusia. Seville sent three hundred horse and two thousand foot. The principal leaders of the expedition were the count of Cifuentes, who, as assistant of Seville, commanded the troops of that city; the count of Ureña, and Alonso de Aguilar, elder brother of the Great Captain, and distinguished like him for the highest qualities of mind and person.

It was determined by the chiefs to strike at once into the heart of the Sierra Vermeja, or Red Sierra, as it was called from the color of its rocks, rising to the east of Ronda, and the principal theatre of insurrection. On the 18th of March, 1501, the little army encamped before Monarda, on the skirts of a mountain, where the Moors were understood to have assembled in considerable force. They had not been long in these quarters before parties of the enemy were seen hovering along the slopes of the mountain, from which the Christian camp was divided by a narrow river,--the Rio Verde, probably, which has gained such mournful celebrity in Spanish song. [13] Aguilar's troops, who occupied the van, were so much roused by the sight of the enemy, that a small party, seizing a banner, rushed across the stream without orders, in pursuit of them.

The odds, however, were so great, that they would have been severely handled, had not Aguilar, while he bitterly condemned their temerity, advanced promptly to their support with the remainder of his corps. The count of Ureña followed with the central division, leaving the count of Cifuentes with the troops of Seville to protect the camp. [14]

The Moors fell back as the Christians advanced, and, retreating nimbly from point to point, led them up the rugged steeps far into the recesses of the mountains. At length they reached an open level, encompassed on all sides by a natural rampart of rocks, where they had deposited their valuable effects, together with their wives and children. The latter, at sight of the invaders, uttered dismal cries, and fled into the remoter depths of the sierra.

The Christians were too much attracted by the rich spoil before them to think of following, and dispersed in every direction in quest of plunder, with all the heedlessness and insubordination of raw, inexperienced levies. It was in vain, that Alonso de Aguilar reminded them, that their wily enemy was still unconquered; or that he endeavored to force them into the ranks again, and restore order. No one heeded his call, or thought of anything beyond the present moment, and of securing as much booty to himself as he could carry.

The Moors, in the mean while, finding themselves no longer pursued, were aware of the occupation of the Christians, whom they not improbably had purposely decoyed into the snare. They resolved to return to the scene of action, and surprise their incautious enemy. Stealthily advancing, therefore, under the shadows of night, now falling thick around, they poured through the rocky defiles of the inclosure upon the astonished Spaniards. An unlucky explosion, at this crisis, of a cask of powder, into which a spark had accidentally fallen, threw a broad glare over the scene, and revealed for a moment the situation of the hostile parties;--the Spaniards in the utmost disorder, many of them without arms, and staggering under the weight of their fatal booty; while their enemies were seen gliding like so many demons of darkness through every crevice and avenue of the inclosure, in the act of springing on their devoted victims. This appalling spectacle, vanishing almost as soon as seen, and followed by the hideous yells and war-cries of the assailants, struck a panic into the hearts of the soldiers, who fled, scarcely offering any resistance. The darkness of the night was as favorable to the Moors, familiar with all the intricacies of the ground, as it was fatal to the Christians, who, bewildered in the mazes of the sierra, and losing their footing at every step, fell under the swords of their pursuers, or went down the dark gulfs and precipices which yawned all around. [15]

Amidst this dreadful confusion, the count of Ureña succeeded in gaining a lower level of the sierra, where he halted and endeavored to rally his panic-struck followers. His noble comrade, Alonso de Aguilar, still maintained his position on the heights above, refusing all entreaties of his followers to attempt a retreat. "When," said he proudly, "was the banner of Aguilar ever known to fly from the field?" His eldest son, the heir of his house and honors, Don Pedro de Cordova, a youth of great promise, fought at his side. He had received a severe wound on the head from a stone, and a javelin had pierced quite through his leg. With one knee resting on the ground, however, he still made a brave defence with his sword. The sight was too much for the father, and he implored him to suffer himself to be removed from the field. "Let not the hopes of our house be crushed at a single blow," said he; "go, my son, live as becomes a Christian knight,--live, and cherish your desolate mother." All his entreaties were fruitless, however; and the gallant boy refused to leave his father's side, till he was forcibly borne away by the attendants, who fortunately succeeded in bringing him in safety to the station occupied by the count of Ureña. [16]

Meantime the brave little band of cavaliers, who remained true to Aguilar, had fallen one after another; and the chief, left almost alone, retreated to a huge rock which rose in the middle of the plain, and, placing his back against it, still made fight, though weakened by loss of blood, like a lion at bay, against his enemies. [17] In this situation he was pressed so hard by a Moor of uncommon size and strength, that he was compelled to turn and close with him in single combat. The strife was long and desperate, till Don Alonso, whose corselet had become unlaced in the previous struggle, having--received a severe wound in the breast, followed by another on the head, grappled closely with his adversary, and they came rolling on the ground together. The Moor remained uppermost; but the spirit of the Spanish cavalier had not sunk with his strength, and he proudly exclaimed, as if to intimidate his enemy, "I am Don Alonso de Aguilar;" to which the other rejoined, "And I am the Feri de Ben Estepar," a well-known name of terror to the Christians. The sound of this detested name roused all the vengeance of the dying hero; and, grasping his foe in mortal agony, he rallied his strength for a final blow; but it was too late,-his hand failed, and he was soon despatched by the dagger of his more vigorous rival. [18]

Thus fell Alonso Hernandez de Cordova, or Alonso de Aguilar, as he is commonly called from the land where his family estates lay. [19] "He was of the greatest authority among the grandees of his time," says Father Abarca, "for his lineage, personal character, large domains, and the high posts which he filled, both in peace and war. More than forty years of his life he served against the infidel, under the banner of his house in boyhood, and as leader of that same banner in later life, or as viceroy of Andalusia and commander of the royal armies. He was the fifth lord of his warlike and pious house who had fallen fighting for their country and religion against the accursed sect of Mahomet. And there is good reason to believe," continues the same orthodox authority, "that his soul has received the glorious reward of the Christian soldier; since he was armed on that very morning with the blessed sacraments of confession and communion." [20]

The victorious Moors, all this time, were driving the unresisting Spaniards, like so many terrified deer, down the dark steeps of the sierra. The count of Ureña, who had seen his son stretched by his side, and received a severe wound himself, made the most desperate efforts to rally the fugitives, but was at length swept away by the torrent. Trusting himself to a faithful adalid, who knew the passes, he succeeded with much difficulty in reaching the foot of the mountain, with such a small remnant of his followers as could keep in his track. [21] Fortunately, he there found the count of Cifuentes, who had crossed the river with the rearguard, and encamped on a rising ground in the neighborhood. Under favor of this strong position, the latter commander and his brave Sevillians, all fresh for action, were enabled to cover the shattered remains of the Spaniards, and beat off the assaults of their enemies till the break of morn, when they vanished like so many foul birds of night into the recesses of the mountains.

The rising day, which dispersed their foes, now revealed to the Christians the dreadful extent of their own losses. Few were to be seen of all that proud array, which had marched up the heights so confidently under the banners of their ill-fated chiefs the preceding evening. The bloody roll of slaughter, besides the common file, was graced with the names of the best and bravest of the Christian knighthood, Among the number was Francisco Ramirez de Madrid, the distinguished engineer, who had contributed so essentially to the success of the Granadine war. [22]

The sad tidings of the defeat soon spread throughout the country, occasioning a sensation such as had not been felt since the tragic affair of the Axarquia. Men could scarcely credit that so much mischief could be inflicted by an outcast race, who, whatever terror they once inspired, had long since been regarded with indifference or contempt. Every Spaniard seemed to consider himself in some way or other involved in the disgrace; and the most spirited exertions were made on all sides to retrieve it. By the beginning of April, King Ferdinand found himself at Ronda, at the head of a strong body of troops, which he determined to lead in person, notwithstanding the remonstrances of his courtiers, into the heart of the Sierra, and take bloody vengeance on the rebels.

These latter, however, far from being encouraged, were appalled by the extent of their own success; and, as the note of warlike preparation reached them in their fastnesses, they felt their temerity in thus bringing the whole weight of the Castilian monarchy on their heads. They accordingly abandoned all thoughts of further resistance, and lost no time in sending deputies to the king's camp, to deprecate his anger, and sue in the most submissive terms for pardon.

Ferdinand, though far from vindictive, was less open to pity than the queen; and in the present instance he indulged in a full measure of the indignation, with which sovereigns, naturally identifying themselves with the state, are wont to regard rebellion, by viewing it in the aggravated light of a personal offence. After some hesitation, however, his prudence got the better of his passions, as he reflected that he was in a situation to dictate the terms of victory, without paying the usual price for it. His past experience seems to have convinced him of the hopelessness of infusing sentiments of loyalty in a Mussulman towards a Christian prince; for, while he granted a general amnesty to those concerned in the insurrection, it was only on the alternative of baptism or exile, engaging at the same time to provide conveyance for such as chose to leave the country, on the payment of ten doblas of gold a head. [23.]

These engagements were punctually fulfilled. The Moorish emigrants were transported in public galleys from Estepona to the Barbary coast. The number, however, was probably small; by far the greater part being obliged, however reluctantly, from want of funds, to remain and be baptized. "They would never have stayed," says Bleda, "if they could have mustered the ten doblas of gold; a circumstance," continues that charitable writer, "which shows with what levity they received baptism, and for what paltry considerations they could be guilty of such sacrilegious hypocrisy!" [24]

But, although every spark of insurrection was thus effectually extinguished, it was long, very long, before the Spanish nation could recover from the blow, or forget the sad story of its disaster in the Red Sierra. It became the theme, not only of chronicle, but of song; the note of sorrow was prolonged in many a plaintive romance, and the names of Aguilar and his unfortunate companions were embalmed in that beautiful minstrelsy, scarcely less imperishable, and far more touching, than the stately and elaborate records of history. [25] The popular feeling was displayed after another fashion in regard to the count of Ureña and his followers, who were accused of deserting their posts in the hour of peril; and more than one ballad of the time reproachfully demanded an account from him of the brave companions in arms whom he had left in the Sierra. [26]

The imputation on this gallant nobleman appears wholly undeserved; for certainly he was not called on to throw away his own life and those of his brave followers, in a cause perfectly desperate, for a chimerical point of honor. And, so far from forfeiting the favor of his sovereigns by his conduct on this occasion, he was maintained by them in the same high stations, which he before held, and which he continued to fill with dignity to a good old age. [27]

It was about seventy years after this event, in 1570, that the duke of Arcos, descended from the great marquis of Cadiz, and from this same count of Ureña, led an expedition into the Sierra Vermeja, in order to suppress a similar insurrection of the Moriscoes. Among the party were many of the descendants and kinsmen of those who had fought under Aguilar. It was the first time since that these rude passes had been trodden by Christian feet; but the traditions of early childhood had made every inch of ground familiar to the soldiers. Some way up the eminence, they recognized the point at which the count of Ureña had made his stand; and further still, the fatal plain, belted round with its dark rampart of rocks, where the strife had been hottest. Scattered fragments of arms and harness still lay rusting on the ground, which was covered with the bones of the warriors, that had lain for more than half a century unburied and bleaching in the sun. [28] Here was the spot on which the brave son of Aguilar had fought so sturdily by his father's side; and there the huge rock, at whose foot the chieftain had fallen, throwing its dark shadow over the remains of the noble dead, who lay sleeping around. The strongly marked features of the ground called up all the circumstances, which the soldiers had gathered from tradition; their hearts beat high, as they recapitulated them one to another; and the tears, says the eloquent historian who tells the story, fell fast down their iron cheeks, as they gazed on the sad relics, and offered up a soldier's prayer for the heroic souls which once animated them. [29]

Tranquillity was now restored throughout the wide borders of Granada. The banner of the Cross floated triumphantly over the whole extent of its wild sierras, its broad valleys, and populous cities. Every Moor, in exterior at least, had become a Christian. Every mosque had been converted into a Christian church. Still the country was not entirely purified from the stain of Islamism, since many professing their ancient faith were scattered over different parts of the kingdom of Castile, where they had been long resident before the surrender of their capital. The late events seemed to have no other effect than to harden them in error; and the Spanish government saw with alarm the pernicious influence of their example and persuasion, in shaking the infirm faith of the new converts.

To obviate this, an ordinance was published, in the summer of 1501, prohibiting all intercourse between these Moors and the orthodox kingdom of Granada. [30] At length, however, convinced that there was no other way to save the precious seed from being choked by the thorns of infidelity than to eradicate them altogether, the sovereigns came to the extraordinary resolution of offering them the alternative of baptism or exile. They issued a pragmática to that effect from Seville, February 12th, 1502. After a preamble, duly setting forth the obligations of gratitude on the Castilians to drive God's enemies from the land, which he in his good time had delivered into their hands, and the numerous backslidings occasioned among the new converts by their intercourse with their unbaptized brethren, the act goes on to state, in much the same terms with the famous ordinance against the Jews, that all the unbaptized Moors in the kingdoms of Castile and Leon, above fourteen years of age if males, and twelve if females, must leave the country by the end of April following; that they might sell their property in the mean time, and take the proceeds in anything save gold and silver and merchandise regularly prohibited; and, finally, that they might emigrate to any foreign country, except the dominions of the Grand Turk, and such parts of Africa as Spain was then at war with. Obedience to these severe provisions was enforced by the penalties of death and confiscation of property. [31]

This stern edict, so closely modelled on that against the Jews, must have been even more grievous in its application. [32] For the Jews may be said to have been denizens almost equally of every country; while the Moors, excluded from a retreat among their countrymen on the African shore, were sent into the lands of enemies or strangers. The former, moreover, were far better qualified by their natural shrewdness and commercial habits for disposing of their property advantageously, than the simple, inexperienced Moors, skilled in little else than husbandry or rude mechanic arts. We have nowhere met with any estimate of the number who migrated on this occasion. The Castilian writers pass over the whole affair in a very few words; not, indeed, as is too evident, from any feelings of disapprobation, but from its insignificance in a political view. Their silence implies a very inconsiderable amount of emigrants; a circumstance not to-be wondered at, as there were very few, probably, who would not sooner imitate their Granadine brethren, in assuming the mask of Christianity, than encounter exile under all the aggravated miseries with which it was accompanied. [33]

Castile might now boast, the first time for eight centuries, that every outward stain, at least, of infidelity, was purified from her bosom. But how had this been accomplished? By the most detestable expedients which sophistry could devise, and oppression execute; and that, too, under an enlightened government, proposing to be guided solely by a conscientious regard for duty. To comprehend this more fully, it will be necessary to take a brief view of public sentiment in matters of religion at that time.

It is a singular paradox, that Christianity, whose doctrines inculcate unbounded charity, should have been made so often an engine of persecution; while Mahometanism, whose principles are those of avowed intolerance, should have exhibited, at least till later times, a truly philosophical spirit of toleration. [34] Even the first victorious disciples of the prophet, glowing with all the fiery zeal of proselytism, were content with the exaction of tribute from the vanquished; at least, more vindictive feelings were reserved only for idolaters, who did not, like the Jews and Christians, acknowledge with themselves the unity of God. With these latter denominations they had obvious sympathy, since it was their creed which formed the basis of their own. [35] In Spain, where the fiery temperament of the Arab was gradually softened under the influence of a temperate climate and higher mental culture, the toleration of the Jews and Christians, as we have already had occasion to notice, was so remarkable, that, within a few years after the conquest, we find them not only protected in the enjoyment of civil and religious freedom, but mingling on terms almost of equality with their conquerors.

It is not necessary to inquire here, how far the different policy of the Christians was owing to the peculiar constitution of their hierarchy, which, composed of a spiritual militia drawn from every country in Europe, was cut off by its position from all human sympathies, and attached to no interests but its own; which availed itself of the superior science and reputed sanctity, that were supposed to have given it the key to the dread mysteries of a future life, not to enlighten but to enslave the minds of a credulous world; and which, making its own tenets the only standard of faith, its own rites and ceremonial the only evidence of virtue, obliterated the great laws of morality, written by the divine hand on every heart, and gradually built up a system of exclusiveness and intolerance most repugnant to the mild and charitable religion of Jesus Christ.

Before the close of the fifteenth century, several circumstances operated to sharpen the edge of intolerance, especially against the Arabs. The Turks, whose political consideration of late years had made them the peculiar representatives and champions of Mahometanism, had shown a ferocity and cruelty in their treatment of the Christians, which brought general odium on all the professors of their faith, and on the Moors, of course, though most undeservedly, in common with the rest. The bold, heterodox doctrines, also, which had occasionally broken forth in different parts of Europe in the fifteenth century, like so many faint streaks of light ushering in the glorious morn of the Reformation, had roused the alarm of the champions of the church, and kindled on more than one occasion the fires of persecution; and, before the close of the period, the Inquisition was introduced into Spain.

From that disastrous hour, religion wore a new aspect in this unhappy country. The spirit of intolerance, no longer hooded in the darkness of the cloister, now stalked abroad in all his terrors. Zeal was exalted into fanaticism, and a rational spirit of proselytism, into one of fiendish persecution. It was not enough now, as formerly, to conform passively to the doctrines of the church, but it was enjoined to make war on all who refused them. The natural feelings of compunction in the discharge of this sad duty was a crime; and the tear of sympathy, wrung out by the sight of mortal agonies, was an offence to be expiated by humiliating penance. The most frightful maxims were deliberately engrafted into the code of morals. Any one, it was said, might conscientiously kill an apostate wherever he could meet him. There was some doubt whether a man might slay his own father, if a heretic or infidel, but none whatever as to his right, in that event, to take away the life of his son or of his brother. [36] These maxims were not a dead letter, but of most active operation, as the sad records of the dread tribunal too well prove. The character of the nation underwent a melancholy change. The milk of charity, nay of human feeling, was soured in every bosom. The liberality of the old Spanish cavalier gave way to the fiery fanaticism of the monk. The taste for blood, once gratified, begat a cannibal appetite in the people, who, cheered on by the frantic clergy, seemed to vie with one another in the eagerness with which they ran down the miserable game of the Inquisition.

It was at this very time, when the infernal monster, gorged but not sated with human sacrifice, was crying aloud for fresh victims, that Granada surrendered to the Spaniards, under the solemn guaranty of the full enjoyment of civil and religious liberty. The treaty of capitulation granted too much, or too little,--too little for an independent state, too much for one whose existence was now merged in that of a greater; for it secured to the Moors privileges in some respects superior to those of the Castilians, and to the prejudice of the latter. Such, for example, was the permission to trade with the Barbary coast, and with the various places in Castile and Andalusia, without paying the duties imposed on the Spaniards themselves; [37] and that article, again, by which runaway Moorish slaves from other parts of the kingdom were made free and incapable of being reclaimed by their masters, if they could reach Granada. [38] The former of these provisions struck at the commercial profits of the Spaniards, the latter directly at their property.

It is not too much to say, that such a treaty, depending for its observance on the good faith and forbearance of the stronger party, would not hold together a year in any country of Christendom, even at the present day, before some flaw or pretext would be devised to evade it. How much greater was the probability of this in the present case, where the weaker party was viewed with all the accumulated odium of long hereditary hostility and religious rancor!

The work of conversion, on which the Christians, no doubt, much relied, was attended with greater difficulties than had been anticipated by the conquerors. It was now found, that, while the Moors retained their present faith, they would be much better affected towards their countrymen in Africa, than to the nation with which they were incorporated. In short, Spain still had enemies in her bosom; and reports were rife in every quarter, of their secret intelligence with the Barbary states, and of Christians kidnapped to be sold as slaves to Algerine corsairs. Such tales, greedily circulated and swallowed, soon begat general alarm; and men are not apt to be over-scrupulous as to measures which they deem essential to their personal safety.

The zealous attempt to bring about conversion by preaching and expostulation was fair and commendable. The intervention of bribes and promises, if it violated the spirit, did not, at least, the letter of the treaty. The application of force to a few of the most refractory, who by their blind obstinacy were excluding a whole nation from the benefits of redemption, was to be defended on other grounds; and these were not wanting to cunning theologians, who considered that the sanctity of the end justified extraordinary means, and that, where the eternal interests of the soul were at stake, the force of promises and the faith of treaties were equally nugatory. [39]

But the chef-d'oeuvre of monkish casuistry was the argument imputed to Ximenes for depriving the Moors of the benefits of the treaty, as a legitimate consequence of the rebellion, into which they had been driven by his own malpractices. This proposition, however, far from outraging the feelings of the nation, well drilled by this time in the metaphysics of the cloister, fell short of them, if we are to judge from recommendations of a still more questionable import, urged, though ineffectually, on the sovereigns at this very time, from the highest quarter. [40]

Such are the frightful results to which the fairest mind may be led, when it introduces the refinements of logic into the discussions of duty; when, proposing to achieve some great good, whether in politics or religion, it conceives that the importance of the object authorizes a departure from the plain principles of morality, which regulate the ordinary affairs of life; and when, blending these higher interests with those of a personal nature, it becomes incapable of discriminating between them, and is led insensibly to act from selfish motives, while it fondly imagines itself obeying only the conscientious dictates of duty. [41]

With these events may be said to terminate the history of the Moors, or the Moriscoes, as henceforth called, under the present reign. Eight centuries had elapsed since their first occupation of the country; during which period they had exhibited all the various phases of civilization, from its dawn to its decline. Ten years had sufficed to overturn the splendid remains of this powerful empire; and ten more, for its nominal conversion to Christianity. A long century of persecution, of unmitigated and unmerited suffering, was to follow, before the whole was to be consummated by the expulsion of this unhappy race from the Peninsula. Their story, in this latter period, furnishes one of the most memorable examples in history, of the impotence of persecution, even in support of a good cause against a bad one. It is a lesson that cannot be too deeply pondered through every succeeding age. The fires of the Inquisition are, indeed, extinguished, probably to be lighted no more. But where is the land which can boast that the spirit of intolerance, which forms the very breath of persecution, is altogether extinct in its bosom?

FOOTNOTES

[1] Alpuxarras,--an Arabic word, signifying "land of warriors," according to Salazar de Mendoza. (Monarquía, tom. ii. p. 138.)

According to the more accurate and learned Conde, it is derived from an Arabic term for "pasturage." (El Nubiense, Descripcion de España, p. 187.)

"La Alpuxarra, aquessa sierra que al Sol la cervis lavanta y que poblada de Villas, es Mar de peñas, y plantas, adonde sus poblaciones ondas navegan de plata."

Calderon, (Comedias, (Madrid, 1760,) tom. i. p. 353,) whose gorgeous muse sheds a blaze of glory over the rudest scenes.

[2] Marmol, Rebelion de Moriscos, tom. i. lib. 1, cap. 28.--Quintana, Españoles Célebres, tom. i. p. 239.--Bleda, Corónica, lib. 5, cap. 23.-- Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 159.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, tom. ii. fol. 338.--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, p. 12.

[3] If we are to believe Martyr, the royal force amounted to 80,000 foot and 15,000 horse; so large an army, so promptly brought into the field, would suggest high ideas of the resources of the nation; too high indeed to gain credit, even from Martyr, without confirmation.

[4] Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 215.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, tom. ii. fol. 338.--Zurita, Anales, tom. v. lib. 3, cap. 45.--Carbajal, Anales, MS., año 1500.

[5] Footnote: Marmol, Rebelion de Moriscos, lib. 1, cap. 28.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, tom. ii. fol. 338.--Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 159.--Bleda, Corónica, lib. 5, cap. 24.

[6] Bleda, Corónica, lib. 5, cap. 24.--Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 165.

[7] Privilegios á los Moros de Valdelecrin y las Alpuxarras que se convirtieren, á 30 de Julio de 1500. Archive de Simancas, apud Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., tom. vi. apend. 14.

[8] Carbajal, Anales, MS., año 1500.--Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib. 19, cap. 10.

[9] Footnote: Carbajal, Anales, MS., año 1501.--Zurita, Anales, tom. v. lib. 4, cap. 27, 31.

[10] The great marquis of Cadiz was third count of Arcos, from which his descendants took their title on the resumption of Cadiz by the crown after his death. Mendoza, Dignidades, lib. 3, cap. 8, 17.

[11] See two letters dated Seville, January and February, 1500, addressed by Ferdinand and Isabella to the inhabitants of the Serrania de Ronda, preserved in the archives of Simancas, apud Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., tom. vi. Ilust. 15.

[12] Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 165.--Bleda, Corónica, lib. 5, cap. 25.--Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 221.

The complaints of the Spanish and African Moors to the Sultan of Egypt, or of Babylon, as he was then usually styled, had drawn from that prince sharp remonstrances to the Catholic sovereigns against their persecutions of the Moslems, accompanied by menaces of strict retaliation on the Christians in his dominions. In order to avert such calamitous consequences, Peter Martyr was sent as ambassador to Egypt. He left Granada in August, 1501, proceeded to Venice, and embarked there for Alexandria, which place he reached in December. Though cautioned on his arrival, that his mission, in the present exasperated state of feeling at the court, might cost him his head, the dauntless envoy sailed up the Nile under a Mameluke guard to Grand Cairo. Far from experiencing any outrage, however, he was courteously received by the Sultan; although the ambassador declined compromising the dignity of the court he represented, by paying the usual humiliating mark of obeisance, in prostrating himself on the ground in the royal presence; an independent bearing highly satisfactory to the Castilian historians. (See Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib. 19, cap. 12.) He had three audiences, in which he succeeded so completely in effacing the unfavorable impressions of the Moslem prince, that the latter not only dismissed him with liberal presents, but granted, at his request, several important privileges to the Christian residents, and the pilgrims to the Holy Land, which lay within his dominions. Martyr's account of this interesting visit, which gave him ample opportunity for studying the manners of a nation, and seeing the stupendous monuments of ancient art, then little familiar to Europeans, was published in Latin, under the title of "De Legatione Babylonica," in three books, appended to his more celebrated "Decades de Rebus Oceanicis et Novo Orbe." Mazzuchelli, (Sorittori d'ltalia, race Anghiera,) notices an edition which he had seen published separately, without date or name of the printer.

[13] "Rio Verde, Rio Verde, Tinto va en sangre viva;"--

Percy, in his well-known version of one of these agreeable romances, adopts the tame epithet of "gentle river," from the awkwardness, he says, of the literal translation of "verdant river." He was not aware, it appears, that the Spanish was a proper name. (See Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, (London, 1812,) vol. i. p. 357.) The more faithful version of "green river," however, would have nothing very unpoetical in it; though our gifted countryman, Bryant seems to intimate, by his omission, somewhat of a similar difficulty, in his agreeable stanzas on the beautiful stream of that name in New England.

[14] Zuñiga, Annales de Sevilla, año 1501.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, tom. ii. p. 340.--Bleda, Corónica, lib. 5, cap. 26.--Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 165.

"Fue muy gentil capitan," says Oviedo, speaking of this latter nobleman, "y valiente lanza; y rauchas vezes dio testimonio grande de su animoso esfuerzo." Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 1, dial. 36.

[15] Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, tom. ii. fol. 340.--Zurita, Anales, tom. v. lib. 4, cap. 33.--Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib. 19, cap. 10.-- Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 165.--Marmol, Rebelion de Moriscos, lib. 1, cap. 28.

[16] Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, p. 13.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, tom. 2, fol. 340.--Marmol, Rebelion de Moriscos, lib. 1, cap. 28.--Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 1, dial. 36.

The boy, who lived to man's estate, was afterwards created marquis of Priego by the Catholic sovereigns. Salazar de Mendoza, Dignidades, lib. 2, cap. 13.

[17] It is the simile of the fine old ballad:

"Solo queda Don Alonso Su campaña es acabada Pelea como un Leon Pero poco aprovechaba."

[18] Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., ubi supra.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, tom. ii. ubi supra.--Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib. 19, cap. 10.-- Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, p. 13.--Sandoval, Hist. Del Emp. Carlos V., tom. i. p. 5.

According to Hyta's prose, Aguilar had first despatched more than thirty Moors with his own hand. (Guerras de Granada, part. i. p. 568.) The ballad, with more discretion, does not vouch for any particular number.

"Don Alonso en este tiempo Muy gran batalla hacia, El cavallo le havian muerto, Por muralla le tenia. Y arrimado a un gran peñon Con valor se defendia:

Muchos Moros tiene muertos, Pero poco le valia. Porque sobre el cargan muchos, Y le dan grandes heridas, Tantas que cayó allí muerto Entre la gente enemiga."

The warrior's death is summed up with an artless brevity, that would be affectation in more studied composition.

"Muerto queda Don Alonso, Y eterna fama ganada."

[19] Paolo Giovio finds an etymology for the name in the eagle (aguila), assumed as the device of the warlike ancestors of Don Alonso. St. Ferdinand of Castile, in consideration of the services of this illustrious house at the taking of Cordova, in 1236, allowed it to bear as a cognomen the name of that city. This branch, however, still continued to be distinguished by their territorial epithet of Aguilar, although Don Alonso's brother, the Great Captain, as we have seen, was more generally known by that of Cordova. Vita Magni Gonsalvi, fol. 204.

[20] Reyes de Aragon, tom. ii. fol 340, 341.

The hero's body, left on the field of battle, was treated with decent respect by the Moors, who restored it to King Ferdinand; and the sovereigns caused it to be interred with all suitable pomp in the church of St. Hypolito at Cordova. Many years afterwards the marchioness of Priego, his descendant, had the tomb opened; and, on examining the mouldering remains, the iron head of a lance, received in his last mortal struggle, was found buried in the bones. Bleda, Corónica, lib. 5, cap. 26.

[21] "Tambien el Conde de Urena, Mal herido en demasia, Se sale de la batalla Llevado por una guia. "Que sabia bien la senda Que de la Sierra salia: Muchos Moros dexaba muertos Por su grande valentia. "Tambien algunos se escapan, Que al buen Conde le seguian."

Oviedo, speaking of this retreat of the good count and his followers, says, "Volvieron las riendas a sus caballos, y se retiraron a mas que galope por la multitud de los Infieles." Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 1, dial. 36.

[22] Zuñiga, Annales de Sevilla, año 1501.--Carbajal, Anales, MS., año 1501.--Bleda, Corónica, lib. 5, cap. 26.--Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 1, dial. 36.

For a more particular notice of Ramirez, see