Part I. of this History.

Most historians seem to take it for granted, that Louis XI. advanced a sum of money to the king of Aragon; and some state, that payment of the debt, for which the provinces were mortgaged, was subsequently tendered to the French king. (See, among others, Sismondi, Républiques Italiennes, tom. xii. p. 93.--Roscoe, Life and Pontificate of Leo X., (London, 1827,) vol. i. p. 147.) The first of these statements is a palpable error; and I find no evidence of the last in any Spanish authority, where, if true, it would naturally have been noticed. I must, indeed, except Bernaldez, who says, that Ferdinand having repaid the money, borrowed by his father from Louis XI., to Charles VIII., the latter monarch returned it to Isabella, in consideration of the great expenses incurred by the Moorish war. It is a pity that this romantic piece of gallantry does not rest on any better foundation than the Curate of Los Palacios, who shows a degree of ignorance in the first part of his statement, that entitles him to little credit in the last. Indeed, the worthy curate, although much to be relied on for what passed in his own province, may be found frequently tripping in the details of what passed out of it. Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 117.

[18] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 4, 7, 10.

[19] Fleury, Histoire Ecclésiastique, contin., tom. xxiv. pp. 533-555.-- Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 14.--Daru, Hist. de Venise, tom. iii. pp. 51, 52.--Gaillard, Rivalité, tom. iv. p. 10.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, tom. ii. rey 30, cap. 6.

Comines, alluding to the affair of Roussillon, says that Ferdinand and Isabella, whether from motives of economy or hypocrisy, always employed priests in their negotiations. "Car toutes leurs oeuvres ont fait mener et conduire par telles gens (religieux), ou par hypocrisie, ou afin de moins despendre." (Mémoires, p. 211.) The French king, however, made more use of the clergy in this very transaction than the Spanish. Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 10.

[20] Paolo Giovio, Historia sui Temporis, (Basiliae, 1578,) lib. 1, p. 16.--The treaty of Barcelona is given at length by Dumont. (Corps Diplomatique, tom. iii. pp. 297-300.) It is reported with sufficient inaccuracy by many historians, who make no hesitation in saying, that Ferdinand expressly bound himself, by one of the articles, not to interfere with Charles's meditated attempt on Naples. (Gaillard, Rivalité, tom. iv. p. 11.--Voltaire, Essai sur les Moeurs, chap. 107.--Comines, Mémoires, liv. 8, chap. 23.--Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 1, p. 16.-- Varillas, Politique d'Espagne, ou du Roi Ferdinand, (Amsterdam, 1688,) pp. 11, 12.--Roscoe, Life of Leo X., tom. i. chap. 3.) So far from this, there is no allusion whatever to the proposed expedition in the treaty, nor is the name of Naples once mentioned in it.

[21] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 18.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, ubi supra.

[22] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 28.--Bembo, Istoria Viniziana, (Milano, 1809,) tom. i. lib. 2, pp. 118, 119.--Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 3, dial. 43.

[23] Comines, Mémoires, liv. 7, introd.

[24] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 20.--Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 123.--Comines, Mémoires, liv. 7, chap. 3.--Mariana, Hist. de España, tom. ii. lib. 26, cap. 6.--Zurita concludes the arguments which decided Ferdinand against assuming the enterprise, with one which may be considered the gist of the whole matter. "El Rey entendia bien que no era tan facil la causa que se proponia." Lib. 1, cap. 20.

[25] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 31.

[26] Oviedo notices Silva as one of three brothers, all gentle cavaliers, of unblemished honor, remarkable for the plainness of their persons, the elegance and courtesy of their manners, and the magnificence of their style of living. This one, Alonso, he describes as a man of a singularly clear head. Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 4.

[27] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, ubi supra.

[28] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib, 1, cap. 31, 41.

[29] Villeneuve, Mémoires, apud Petitot, Collection des Mémoires, tom. xiv. pp. 255, 256.

The French army consisted of 3600 gens d'armes, 20,000 French infantry, and 8000 Swiss, without including the regular camp followers. (Sismondi, Républiques Italiennes, tom. xii. p. 132.)

The splendor and novelty of their appearance excited a degree of admiration, which disarmed in some measure the terror of the Italians. Peter Martyr, whose distance from the theatre of action enabled him to contemplate more calmly the operation of events, beheld with a prophetic eye the magnitude of the calamities impending over his country. In one of his letters, he writes thus; "Scribitur exercitum visum fuisse nostra tempestate nullum unquam nitidiorem. Et qui futuri sunt calamitatis participes, Carolum aciesque illius ac peditum turmas laudibus extollunt; sed Italorum impensâ instructas." (Opus Epist., epist. 143.) He concludes another with this remarkable prediction; "Perimeris, Galle, ex majori parte, nec in patriam redibis. Jacebis insepultus; sed tua non restituetur strages, Italia." Epist. 123.

[30] Guicciardini, Istoria, tom. i. lib. 1, p. 71.--Scipione Ammirato, Istorie Fiorentine, (Firenze, 1647,) p. 205.--Giannone, Istoria di Napoli, tom. iii. lib. 29, introd.--Comines, Mémoires, liv. 7, chap. 17.--Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 3, dial. 43.

[31] Du Bos, Histoire de la Ligue faite à Cambray, (Paris, 1728), tom. i. dissert, prélim.--Machiavelli, Istorie Fiorentine, lib. 5.--Denina, Rivoluzioni d'Italia, lib. 18, cap. 3.

[32] Arte della Guerra, lib. 2.

[33] Machiavelli, Arte della Guerra, lib. 3.--Du Bos, Ligue de Cambray, tom. i. dis. prélim.--Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 2, p. 41. Polybius, in his minute account of this celebrated military institution of the Greeks, has recapitulated nearly all the advantages and defects imputed to the Swiss hérisson, by modern European writers. (See lib. 17, sec. 25 et seq.) It is singular, that these exploded arms and tactics should be revived, after the lapse of nearly seventeen centuries, to be foiled again in the same manner as before.

[34] Guicciardini, Istoria, tom. i. pp. 45, 46.--Machiavelli, Arte della Guerra, lib. 3.--Du Bos, Ligue de Cambray, ubi supra.

[35] Guicciardini speaks of the name of "cannon," which the French gave to their pieces, as a novelty at that time in Italy. Istoria, pp. 45, 46.

[36] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 2, p. 42.--Machiavelli, Arte della Guerra, lib. 7.

[37] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 35.--Alonso da Silva acquitted himself to the entire satisfaction of the sovereigns, in his difficult mission. He was subsequently sent on various others to the different Italian courts, and uniformly sustained his reputation for ability and prudence. He did not live to be old. Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 4.

[38] Mariana, Hist. de España, tom. ii. lib. 26, cap. 6.--Salazar de Mendoza, Monarquía, lib. 3, cap. 14.

This branch of the revenue yields at the present day, according to Laborde, about 6,000,000 reals, or 1,500,000 francs. Itinéraire, tom. vi. p. 51.

[39] Zurita, Abarca, and other Spanish historians, fix the date of Alexander's grant at the close of 1496. (Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib, 2, cap. 40.--Reyes de Aragon, rey 30, cap. 9.) Martyr notices it with great particularity as already conferred, in a letter of February, 1495. (Opus Epist., epist. 157.) The pope, according to Comines, designed to compliment Ferdinand and Isabella for their conquest of Granada, by transferring to them the title of Most Christian, hitherto enjoyed by the kings of France. He had even gone so far as to address them thus in more than one of his briefs. This produced a remonstrance from a number of the cardinals; which led him to substitute the title of Most Catholic. The epithet of Catholic was not new in the royal house of Castile, nor indeed of Aragon; having been given to the Asturian prince Alfonso I. about the middle of the eighth, and to Pedro II., of Aragon, at the beginning of the thirteenth century.

I will remark, in conclusion, that, although the phrase Los Reyes Católicos, as applied to a female equally with a male, would have a whimsical appearance literally translated into English, it is perfectly consonant to the Spanish idiom, which requires that all words, having reference to both a masculine and a feminine noun, should be expressed in the former gender. So also in the ancient languages; Aemen tyrannoi, says Queen Hecuba; (Euripides, Troad, v. 476.) But it is clearly incorrect to render Los Reyes Católicos, as usually done by English writers, by the corresponding term of "Catholic kings."

[40] Carbajal, Anales, MS., año 1495.

[41] Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 138.--Sismondi, Républiques Italiennes, tom. xii. pp. 192-194.--Garibay, Compendio, lib. 19, cap. 4.

[42] Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 3, dial. 43.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 43.--Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 138.--Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 2, p. 46.--Lanuza, Historias, tom. i. lib. 1, cap. 6.

This appears from a letter of Martyr's, dated three months before the interview; in which he says, "Antonius Fonseca, vir equestris ordinis, et armis clarus, destinatus est orator, qui eum moneat, ne, priusquam de jure inter ipsum et Alfonsum regem Neapolitanum decernatur, ulterius procedat. Fert in mandatis Antonius Fonseca, ut Carolo capitulum id sonans ostendat, anteque ipsius oculos (si detrectaverit) pacti veteris chirographum laceret, atque indicat inimicitias." Opus Epist., epist. 144.

[43] Comines, Mémoires, liv. 7, chap. 16.--Villeneuve, Mémoires, apud Petitot, Collection des Mémoires, tom. xii., p. 260.--Ammirato, Istorie Florentine, tom. iii. lib. 26.--Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, tom. iii. lib. 6, cap. 1, 2.

[44] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 2, p. 55.--Giannone, Istoria di Napoli, lib. 29, cap. 1, 2.--André de la Vigne, Histoire de Charles VIII., (Paris, 1617,) p. 201.

[45] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 2, p. 56.--Guicciardini, Istoria, tom. i. pp. 86, 87.--Bembo, Istoria Viniziana, tom. i. lib. 2, p. 120-- Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, chap. 3, 5.--Comines, Mémoires, liv. 7, chap. 19.

[46] Guicciardini, Istoria, tom. i. lib. 2, p. 88.--Comines, Mémoires, liv. 7, chap. 20.--Bembo, Istoria Viniziana, tom. i. lib. 2, pp. 122, 123.--Daru, Hist. de Venise, tom. iii. pp. 255, 256.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 5.

[47] Comines, Mémoires, p. 96.--Comines takes great credit to himself for his perspicacity in detecting the secret negotiations carried on at Venice against his master. According to Bembo, however, the affair was managed with such profound caution, as to escape his notice until it was officially announced by the doge himself; when he was so much astounded by the intelligence, that he was obliged to ask the secretary of the senate, who accompanied him home, the particulars of what the doge had said, as his ideas were so confused at the time, that he had not perfectly comprehended it. Istoria Viniziana, lib. 2, pp. 128, 129.

CHAPTER II.

ITALIAN WARS.--RETREAT OF CHARLES VIII.--CAMPAIGNS OF GONSALVO DE CORDOVA.--FINAL EXPULSION OF THE FRENCH.

1495-1496.

Impolitic Conduct of Charles.--He Plunders the Works of Art.--Gonsalvo de Cordova.--His Brilliant Qualities.--Raised to the Italian Command.--Battle of Seminara.--Gonsalvo's Successes.--Decline of the French.--He Receives the Title of Great Captain.--Expulsion of the French from Italy.

Charles the Eighth might have found abundant occupation, during his brief residence at Naples, in placing the kingdom in a proper posture of defence, and in conciliating the good-will of the inhabitants, without which he could scarcely hope to maintain himself permanently in his conquest. So far from this, however, he showed the utmost aversion to business, wasting his hours, as has been already noticed, in the most frivolous amusements. He treated the great feudal aristocracy of the country with utter neglect; rendering himself difficult of access, and lavishing all dignities and emoluments with partial prodigality on his French subjects. His followers disgusted the nation still further by their insolence and unbridled licentiousness. The people naturally called to mind the virtues of the exiled Ferdinand, whose temperate rule they contrasted with the rash and rapacious conduct of their new masters. The spirit of discontent spread more widely, as the French were too thinly scattered to enforce subordination. A correspondence was entered into with Ferdinand in Sicily, and in a short time several of the most considerable cities of the kingdom openly avowed their allegiance to the house of Aragon. [1]

In the mean time, Charles and his nobles, satiated with a life of inactivity and pleasure, and feeling that they had accomplished the great object of the expedition, began to look with longing eyes towards their own country. Their impatience was converted into anxiety on receiving tidings of the coalition mustering in the north. Charles, however, took care to secure to himself some of the spoils of victory, in a manner which we have seen practised, on a much greater scale, by his countrymen in our day. He collected the various works of art with which Naples was adorned, precious antiques, sculptured marble and alabaster, gates of bronze curiously wrought, and such architectural ornaments as were capable of transportation, and caused them to be embarked on board his fleet for the south of France, "endeavoring," says the Curate of Los Palacios, "to build up his own renown on the ruins of the kings of Naples, of glorious memory." His vessels, however, did not reach their place of destination, but were captured by a Biscayan and Genoese fleet off Pisa. [2]

Charles had entirely failed in his application to Pope Alexander the Sixth for a recognition of his right to Naples, by a formal act of investiture. [3] He determined, however, to go through the ceremony of a coronation; and, on the 12th of May, he made his public entrance into the city, arrayed in splendid robes of scarlet and ermine, with the imperial diadem on his head, a sceptre in one hand, and a globe, the symbol of universal sovereignty, in the other; while the adulatory populace saluted his royal ear with the august title of Emperor. After the conclusion of this farce, he made preparations for his instant departure from Naples. On the 20th of May, he set out on his homeward march, at the head of one-half of his army, amounting in all to not more than nine thousand fighting men. The other half was left for the defence of his new conquest. This arrangement was highly impolitic, since he neither took with him enough to cover his retreat, nor left enough to secure the preservation of Naples. [4]

It is not necessary to follow the French army in its retrograde movement through Italy. It is enough to say, that this was not conducted with sufficient despatch to anticipate the junction of the allied forces, who assembled to dispute its passage on the banks of the Taro, near Fornovo. An action was there fought, in which King Charles, at the head of his loyal chivalry, achieved such deeds of heroism, as shed a lustre over his ill-concerted enterprise, and which, if they did not gain him an undisputed victory, secured the fruits of it, by enabling him to effect his retreat without further molestation. At Turin he entered into negotiation with the calculating duke of Milan, which terminated in the treaty of Vercelli, October 10th, 1495. By this treaty Charles obtained no other advantage than that of detaching his cunning adversary from the coalition. The Venetians, although refusing to accede to it, made no opposition to any arrangement, which would expedite the removal of their formidable foe beyond the Alps. This was speedily accomplished; and Charles, yielding to his own impatience and that of his nobles, recrossed that mountain rampart which nature has so ineffectually provided for the security of Italy, and reached Grenoble with his army on the 27th of the month. Once more restored to his own dominions, the young monarch abandoned himself without reserve to the licentious pleasures to which he was passionately addicted, forgetting alike his dreams of ambition, and the brave companions in arms whom he had deserted in Italy. Thus ended this memorable expedition, which, though crowned with complete success, was attended with no other permanent result to its authors, than that of opening the way to those disastrous wars, which wasted the resources of their country for a great part of the sixteenth century. [5]

Charles the Eighth had left as his viceroy in Naples Gilbert de Bourbon, duke of Montpensier, a prince of the blood, and a brave and loyal nobleman, but of slender military capacity, and so fond of his bed, says Comines, that he seldom left it before noon. The command of the forces in Calabria was intrusted to M. d'Aubigny, a Scottish cavalier of the house of Stuart, raised by Charles to the dignity of grand constable of France. He was so much esteemed for his noble and chivalrous qualities, that he was styled by the annalists of that day, says Brantôme, "grand chevalier sans reproche." He had large experience in military matters, and was reputed one of the best officers in the French service. Besides these principal commanders, there were others of subordinate rank stationed at the head of small detachments on different points of the kingdom, and especially in the fortified cities along the coasts. [6]

Scarcely had Charles the Eighth quitted Naples, when his rival, Ferdinand, who had already completed his preparations in Sicily, made a descent on the southern extremity of Calabria. He was supported in this by the Spanish levies under the admiral Requesens, and Gonsalvo of Cordova, who reached Sicily in the month of May. As the latter of these commanders was destined to act a most conspicuous part in the Italian wars, it may not be amiss to give some account of his early life.

Gonzalo Fernandez de Cordova, or Aguilar, as he is sometimes styled from the territorial title assumed by his branch of the family, was born at Montilla, in 1453. His father died early, leaving two sons, Alonso de Aguilar, whose name occurs in some of the most brilliant passages of the war of Granada, and Gonsalvo, three years younger than his brother. During the troubled reigns of John the Second and Henry the Fourth, the city of Cordova was divided by the feuds of the rival families of Cabra and Aguilar; and it is reported that the citizens of the latter faction, after the loss of their natural leader, Gonsalvo's father, used to testify their loyalty to his house by bearing the infant children along with them in their rencontres; thus Gonsalvo may be said to have been literally nursed amid the din of battle. [7]

On the breaking out of the civil wars, the two brothers attached themselves to the fortunes of Alfonso and Isabella. At their court, the young Gonsalvo soon attracted attention by the uncommon beauty of his person, his polished manners, and proficiency in all knightly exercises. He indulged in a profuse magnificence in his apparel, equipage, and general style of living; a circumstance, which, accompanied with his brilliant qualities, gave him the title at the court of el príncipe de los cavalleros, the prince of cavaliers. This carelessness of expense, indeed, called forth more than once the affectionate remonstrance of his brother Alonso, who, as the elder son, had inherited the mayorazgo, or family estate, and who provided liberally for Gonsalvo's support. He served during the Portuguese war under Alonso de Cardenas, grand master of St. James, and was honored with the public commendations of his general for his signal display of valor at the battle of Albuera; where, it is remarked, the young hero incurred an unnecessary degree of personal hazard by the ostentatious splendor of his armor. Of this commander, and of the count of Tendilla, Gonsalvo always spoke with the greatest deference, acknowledging that he had learned the rudiments of war from them. [8]

The long war of Granada, however, was the great school in which his military discipline was perfected. He did not, it is true, occupy so eminent a position in these campaigns as some other chiefs of riper years and more enlarged experience; but on various occasions he displayed uncommon proofs both of address and valor. He particularly distinguished himself at the capture of Tajara, Illora, and Monte Frio. At the last place, he headed the scaling party, and was the first to mount the walls in the face of the enemy. He wellnigh closed his career in a midnight skirmish before Granada, which occurred a short time before the end of the war. In the heat of the struggle his horse was slain; and Gonsalvo, unable to extricate himself from the morass in which he was entangled, would have perished, but for the faithful servant of the family, who mounted him on his own horse, briefly commending to his master the care of his wife and children. Gonsalvo escaped, but his brave follower paid for his loyalty with his life. At the conclusion of the war, he was selected, together with Ferdinand's secretary Zafra, in consequence of his plausible address, and his familiarity with the Arabic, to conduct the negotiation with the Moorish government. He was secretly introduced for this purpose by night into Granada, and finally succeeded in arranging the terms of capitulation with the unfortunate Abdallah, as has been already stated. In consideration of his various services, the Spanish sovereigns granted him a pension, and a large landed estate in the conquered territory. [9]

After the war, Gonsalvo remained with the court, and his high reputation and brilliant exterior made him one of the most distinguished ornaments of the royal circle. His manners displayed all the romantic gallantry characteristic of the age, of which the following, among other instances, is recorded. The queen accompanied her daughter Joanna on board the fleet which was to bear her to Flanders, the country of her destined husband. After bidding adieu to the infanta, Isabella returned in her boat to the shore; but the waters were so swollen, that it was found difficult to make good a footing for her on the beach. As the sailors were preparing to drag the bark higher up the strand, Gonsalvo, who was present, and dressed, as the Castilian historians are careful to inform us, in a rich suit of brocade and crimson velvet, unwilling that the person of his royal mistress should be profaned by the touch of such rude hands, waded into the water, and bore the queen in his arms to the shore, amid the shouts and plaudits of the spectators. The incident may form a counterpart to the well-known anecdote of Sir Walter Raleigh. [10]

Isabella's long and intimate acquaintance with Gonsalvo enabled her to form a correct estimate of his great talents. When the Italian expedition was resolved on, she instantly fixed her eyes on him as the most suitable person to conduct it. She knew that he possessed the qualities essential to success in a new and difficult enterprise,--courage, constancy, singular prudence, dexterity in negotiation, and inexhaustible fertility of resource. She accordingly recommended him, without hesitation, to her husband, as the commander of the Italian army. He approved her choice, although it seems to have caused no little surprise at the court, which, notwithstanding the favor in which Gonsalvo was held by the sovereigns, was not prepared to see him advanced over the heads of veterans, of so much riper years and higher military renown than himself. The event proved the sagacity of Isabella. [11]

The part of the squadron destined to convey the new general to Sicily was made ready for sea in the spring of 1495. After a tempestuous voyage, he reached Messina on the 24th of May. He found that Ferdinand, of Naples, had already begun operations in Calabria, where he had occupied Reggio with the assistance of the admiral Requesens, who reached Sicily with a part of the armament a short time previous to Gonsalvo's arrival. The whole effective force of the Spaniards did not exceed six hundred lances and fifteen hundred foot, besides those employed in the fleet, amounting to about three thousand and five hundred more. The finances of Spain had been too freely drained in the late Moorish war to authorize any extraordinary expenditure; and Ferdinand designed to assist his kinsman rather with his name, than with any great accession of numbers. Preparations, however, were going forward for raising additional levies, especially among the hardy peasantry of the Asturias and Galicia, on which the war of Granada had fallen less heavily than on the south. [12.]

On the 26th of May, Gonsalvo de Cordova crossed over to Reggio in Calabria, where a plan of operation was concerted between him and the Neapolitan monarch. Before opening the campaign, several strong places in the province, which owed allegiance to the Aragonese family, were placed in the hands of the Spanish general, as security for the reimbursement of expenses incurred by his government in the war. As Gonsalvo placed little reliance on his Calabrian or Sicilian recruits, he was obliged to detach a considerable part of his Spanish forces to garrison these places. [13]

The presence of their monarch revived the dormant loyalty of his Calabrian subjects. They thronged to his standard, till at length he found himself at the head of six thousand men, chiefly composed of the raw militia of the country. He marched at once with Gonsalvo on St. Agatha, which opened its gates without resistance. He then directed his course towards Seminara, a place of some strength about eight leagues from Reggio. On his way he cut in pieces a detachment of French on its march to reinforce the garrison there. Seminara imitated the example of St. Agatha, and, receiving the Neapolitan army without opposition, unfurled the standard of Aragon on its walls. While this was going forward, Antonio Grimani, the Venetian admiral, scoured the eastern coasts of the kingdom with a fleet of four and twenty galleys, and, attacking the strong town of Monopoli, in the possession of the French, put the greater part of the garrison to the sword.

D'Aubigny, who lay at this time with an inconsiderable body of French troops in the south of Calabria, saw the necessity of some vigorous movement to check the further progress of the enemy. He determined to concentrate his forces, scattered through the province, and march against Ferdinand, in the hope of bringing him to a decisive action. For this purpose, in addition to the garrisons dispersed among the principal towns, he summoned to his aid the forces, consisting principally of Swiss infantry, stationed in the Basilicate under Précy, a, brave young cavalier, esteemed one of the best officers in the French service. After the arrival of this reinforcement, aided by the levies of the Angevin barons, D'Aubigny, whose effective strength now greatly surpassed that of his adversary, directed his march towards Seminara. [14]

Ferdinand, who had received no intimation of his adversary's junction with Précy, and who considered him much inferior to himself in numbers, no sooner heard of his approach, than he determined to march out at once before he could reach Seminara, and give him battle. Gonsalvo was of a different opinion. His own troops had too little experience in war with the French and Swiss veterans to make him willing to risk all on the chances of a single battle. The Spanish heavy-armed cavalry, indeed, were a match for any in Europe, and were even said to surpass every other in the beauty and excellence of their appointments, at a period, when arms were finished to luxury. [15] He had but a handful of these, however; by far the greatest part of his cavalry consisting of ginetes, or light-armed troops, of inestimable service in the wild guerilla warfare to which they had been accustomed in Granada, but obviously incapable of coping with the iron gendarmerie of France. He felt some distrust, too, in bringing his little corps of infantry without further preparation, armed, as they were, only with short swords and bucklers, and much reduced, as has been already stated, in number, to encounter the formidable phalanx of Swiss pikes. As for the Calabrian levies, he did not place the least reliance on them. At all events, he thought it prudent, before coming to action, to obtain more accurate information than they now possessed, of the actual strength of the enemy. [16]

In all this, however, he was overruled by the impatience of Ferdinand and his followers. The principal Spanish cavaliers, indeed, as well as the Italian, among whom, may be found names which afterwards rose to high distinction in these wars, urged Gonsalvo to lay aside his scruples; representing the impolicy of showing any distrust of their own strength at this crisis, and of balking the ardor of their soldiers, now hot for action. The Spanish chief, though far from being convinced, yielded to these earnest remonstrances, and King Ferdinand led out his little army without further delay against the enemy.

After traversing a chain of hills, stretching in an easterly direction from Seminara, at the distance of about three miles he arrived before a small stream, on the plains beyond which he discerned the French army in rapid advance against him. He resolved to wait its approach; and, taking position on the slope of the hills towards the river, he drew up his horse on the right wing, and his infantry on the left. [17]

The French generals, D'Aubigny and Précy, putting themselves at the head of their cavalry on the left, consisting of about four hundred heavy- armed, and twice as many light horse, dashed into the water without hesitation. Their right was occupied by the bristling phalanx of Swiss spearmen in close array; behind these were the militia of the country. The Spanish ginetes succeeded in throwing the French gendarmerie into some disorder, before it could form after crossing the stream; but, no sooner was this accomplished, than the Spaniards, incapable of withstanding the charge of their enemy, suddenly wheeled about and precipitately retreated with the intention of again returning on their assailants, after the fashion of the Moorish tactics. The Calabrian militia, not comprehending this manoeuvre, interpreted it into a defeat. They thought the battle lost, and, seized with a panic, broke their ranks, and fled to a man, before the Swiss infantry had time so much as to lower its lances against them.

King Ferdinand in vain attempted to rally the dastardly fugitives. The French cavalry was soon upon them, making frightful slaughter in their ranks. The young monarch, whose splendid arms and towering plumes made him a conspicuous mark in the field, was exposed to imminent peril. He had broken his lance in the body of one of the foremost of the French cavaliers, when his horse fell under him, and as his feet were entangled in the stirrups, he would inevitably have perished in the mêlée, but for the prompt assistance of a young nobleman named Juan de Altavilla, who mounted his master on his own horse, and calmly awaited the approach of the enemy, by whom he was immediately slain. Instances of this affecting loyalty and self-devotion not unfrequently occur in these wars, throwing a melancholy grace over the darker and more ferocious features of the time. [18]

Gonsalvo was seen in the thickest of the fight, long after the king's escape, charging the enemy briskly at the head of his handful of Spaniards, not in the hope of retrieving the day, but of covering the flight of the panic-struck Neapolitans. At length he was borne along by the rushing tide, and succeeded in bringing off the greater part of his cavalry safe to Seminara. Had the French followed up the blow, the greater part of the royal army, with probably King Ferdinand and Gonsalvo at its head, would have fallen into their hands, and thus not only the fate of the campaign, but of Naples itself, would have been permanently decided by this battle. Fortunately, the French did not understand so well how to use a victory, as to gain it. They made no attempt to pursue. This is imputed to the illness of their general, D'Aubigny, occasioned by the extreme unhealthiness of the climate. He was too feeble to sit long on his horse, and was removed into a litter as soon as the action was decided. Whatever was the cause, the victors by this inaction suffered the golden fruits of victory to escape them. Ferdinand made his escape on the same day on board a vessel which conveyed him back to Sicily; and Gonsalvo, on the following morning before break of day, effected his retreat across the mountains to Reggio, at the head of four hundred Spanish lances. Thus terminated the first battle of importance in which Gonsalvo of Cordova held a distinguished command; the only one which he lost during his long and fortunate career. Its loss, however, attached no discredit to him, since it was entered into in manifest opposition to his judgment. On the contrary, his conduct throughout this affair tended greatly to establish his reputation by showing him to be no less prudent in council, than bold in action. [19]

King Ferdinand, far from being disheartened by this defeat, gained new confidence from his experience of the favorable dispositions existing towards him in Calabria. Relying on a similar feeling of loyalty in his capital, he determined to hazard a bold stroke for its recovery; and that, too, instantly, before his late discomfiture should have time to operate on the spirits of his partisans. He accordingly embarked at Messina, with a handful of troops only, on board the fleet of the Spanish admiral, Requesens. It amounted in all to eighty vessels, most of them of inconsiderable size. With this armament, which, notwithstanding its formidable show, carried little effective force for land operations, the adventurous young monarch appeared off the harbor of Naples before the end of June.

Charles's viceroy, the duke of Montpensier, at that time garrisoned Naples with six thousand French troops. On the appearance of the Spanish navy, he marched out to prevent Ferdinand's landing, leaving a few only of his soldiers to keep the city in awe. But he had scarcely quitted it before the inhabitants, who had waited with impatience an opportunity for throwing off the yoke, sounded the tocsin, and, rising to arms through every part of the city, and massacring the feeble remains of the garrison, shut the gates against him; while Ferdinand, who had succeeded in drawing off the French commander in another direction, no sooner presented himself before the walls, than he was received with transports of joy by the enthusiastic people. [20]

The French, however, though excluded from the city, by making a circuit effected an entrance into the fortresses which commanded it. From these posts, Montpensier sorely annoyed the town, making frequent attacks on it, day and night, at the head of his gendarmerie, until they were at length checked in every direction by barricades which the citizens hastily constructed with wagons, casks of stones, bags of sand, and whatever came most readily to hand. At the same time, the windows, balconies, and house- tops were crowded with combatants, who poured down such a deadly shower of missiles on the heads of the French as finally compelled them to take shelter in their defences. Montpensier was now closely besieged, till at length, reduced by famine, he was compelled to capitulate. Before the term prescribed for his surrender had arrived, however, he effected his escape at night, by water, to Salerno, at the head of twenty-five hundred men. The remaining garrison, with the fortresses, submitted to the victorious Ferdinand, the beginning of the following year. And thus, by one of those sudden turns which belong to the game of war, the exiled prince, whose fortunes a few weeks before appeared perfectly desperate, was again established in the palace of his ancestors. [21]

Montpensier did not long remain in his new quarters. He saw the necessity of immediate action, to counteract the alarming progress of the enemy. He quitted Salerno before the end of winter, strengthening his army by such reinforcements as he could collect from every quarter of the country. With this body, he directed his course towards Apulia, with the intention of bringing Ferdinand, who had already established his headquarters there, to a decisive engagement. Ferdinand's force, however, was so far inferior to that of his antagonist, as to compel him to act on the defensive, until he had been reinforced by a considerable body of troops from Venice. The two armies were then so equally matched, that neither cared to hazard all on the fate of a battle; and the campaign wasted away in languid operations, which led to no important result.

In the mean time, Gonsalvo de Cordova was slowly fighting his way up through southern Calabria. The character of the country, rough and mountainous, like the Alpuxarras, and thickly sprinkled with fortified places, enabled him to bring into play the tactics which he had learned in the war of Granada. He made little use of heavy-armed troops, relying on his ginetes, and still more on his foot; taking care, however, to avoid any direct encounter with the dreaded Swiss battalions. He made amends for paucity of numbers and want of real strength, by rapidity of movement and the wily tactics of Moorish warfare; darting on the enemy where least expected, surprising his strong-holds at dead of night, entangling him in ambuscades, and desolating the country with those terrible forays, whose effects he had so often witnessed on the fair vegas of Granada. He adopted the policy practised by his master Ferdinand the Catholic in the Moorish war, lenient to the submissive foe, but wreaking terrible vengeance on such as resisted. [22]

The French were sorely disconcerted by these irregular operations, so unlike anything to which they were accustomed in European warfare. They were further disheartened by the continued illness of D'Aubigny, and by the growing disaffection of the Calabrians, who in the southern provinces contiguous to Sicily were particularly well inclined to Spain.

Gonsalvo, availing himself of these friendly dispositions, pushed forward his successes, carrying one strong-hold after another, until by the end of the year he had overrun the whole of Lower Calabria. His progress would have been still more rapid but for the serious embarrassments which he experienced from want of supplies. He had received some reinforcements from Sicily, but very few from Spain; while the boasted Galician levies, instead of fifteen hundred, had dwindled to scarcely three hundred men; who arrived in the most miserable plight, destitute of clothing and munitions of every kind. He was compelled to weaken still further his inadequate force by garrisoning the conquered places, most of which, however, he was obliged to leave without any defence at all. In addition to this, he was so destitute of the necessary funds for the payment of his troops, that he was detained nearly two months at Nicastro, until February, 1496, when he received a remittance from Spain. After this, he resumed operations with such vigor, that by the end of the following spring he had reduced all Upper Calabria, with the exception of a small corner of the province, in which D'Aubigny still maintained himself. At this crisis, he was summoned from the scene of his conquests to the support of the king of Naples, who lay encamped before Atella, a town intrenched among the Apennines, on the western borders of the Basilicate. [23] The campaign of the preceding winter had terminated without any decisive results, the two armies of Montpensier and King Ferdinand having continued in sight of each other, without ever coming to action. These protracted operations were fatal to the French. Their few supplies were intercepted by the peasantry of the country; their Swiss and German mercenaries mutinied and deserted for want of pay; and the Neapolitans in their service went off in great numbers, disgusted with the insolent and overbearing manners of their new allies. Charles the Eighth, in the mean while, was wasting his hours and health in the usual round of profligate pleasures. From the moment of recrossing the Alps he seemed to have shut out Italy from his thoughts. He was equally insensible to the supplications of the few Italians at his court, and the remonstrances of his French nobles, many of whom, although opposed to the first expedition, would willingly have undertaken a second to support their brave comrades, whom the heedless young monarch now abandoned to their fate. [24]

At length Montpensier, finding no prospect of relief from home, and straitened by the want of provisions, determined to draw off from the neighborhood of Benevento, where the two armies lay encamped, and retreat to the fruitful province of Apulia, whose principal places were still garrisoned by the French. He broke up his camp secretly at dead of night, and gained a day's march on his enemy, before the latter began his pursuit. This Ferdinand pushed with such vigor, however, that he overtook the retreating army at the town of Atella, and completely intercepted its further progress. This town, which, as already noticed, is situated on, the western skirts of the Basilicate, lies in a broad valley encompassed by a lofty amphitheatre of hills, through which flows a little river, tributary to the Ofanto, watering the town, and turning several mills which supplied it with flour. At a few miles' distance was the strong place of Ripa Candida, garrisoned by the French, through which Montpensier hoped to maintain his communications with the fertile regions of the interior.

Ferdinand, desirous if possible to bring the war to a close, by the capture of the whole French army, prepared for a vigorous blockade. He disposed his forces so as to intercept supplies by commanding the avenues to the town in every direction. He soon found, however, that his army, though considerably stronger than his rival's, was incompetent to this without further aid. He accordingly resolved to summon to his support Gonsalvo de Cordova, the fame of whose exploits now resounded through every part of the kingdom. [25]

The Spanish general received Ferdinand's summons while encamped with his army at Castrovillari, in the north of Upper Calabria. If he complied with it, he saw himself in danger of losing all the fruits of his long campaign of victories; for his active enemy would not fail to profit by his absence to repair his losses. If he refused obedience, however, it might defeat the most favorable opportunity which had yet presented itself for bringing the war to a close. He resolved, therefore, at once to quit the field of his triumphs, and march to King Ferdinand's relief. But, before his departure, he prepared to strike such a blow as should, if possible, incapacitate his enemy for any effectual movement during his absence.

He received intelligence that a considerable number of Angevin lords, mostly of the powerful house of San Severino, with their vassals and a reinforcement of French troops, were assembled at the little town of Laino, on the northwestern borders of Upper Calabria; where they lay awaiting a junction with D'Aubigny. Gonsalvo determined to surprise this place, and capture the rich spoils which it contained, before his departure. His road lay through a wild and mountainous country. The passes were occupied by the Calabrian peasantry in the interest of the Angevin party. The Spanish general, however, found no difficulty in forcing a way through this undisciplined rabble, a large body of whom he surrounded and cut to pieces, as they lay in ambush for him in the valley of Murano. Laino, whose base is washed by the waters of the Lao, was defended by a strong castle built on the opposite side of the river, and connected by a bridge with the town. All approach to the place by the high road was commanded by this fortress. Gonsalvo obviated this difficulty, however, by a circuitous route across the mountains. He marched all night, and, fording the waters of the Lao about two miles above the town, entered it with his little army before break of day, having previously detached a small corps to take possession of the bridge. The inhabitants, startled from their slumbers by the unexpected appearance of the enemy in their streets, hastily seized their arms and made for the castle on the other side of the river. The pass, however, was occupied by the Spaniards; and the Neapolitans and French, hemmed in on every side, began a desperate resistance, which terminated with the death of their chief, Americo San Severino, and the capture of such of his followers as did not fall in the mêlée. A rich booty fell into the hands of the victors. The most glorious prize, however, was the Angevin barons, twenty in number, whom Gonsalvo, after the action, sent prisoners to Naples. This decisive blow, whose tidings spread like wildfire throughout the country, settled the fate of Calabria. It struck terror into the hearts of the French, and crippled them so far as to leave Gonsalvo little cause for anxiety during his proposed absence. [26]

The Spanish general lost no time in pressing forward on his march towards Atella. Before quitting Calabria he had received a reinforcement of five hundred soldiers from Spain, and his whole Spanish forces, according to Giovio, amounted to one hundred men-at-arms, five hundred light cavalry, and two thousand foot, picked men, and well schooled in the hardy service of the late campaign. [27] Although a great part of his march lay through a hostile country, he encountered little opposition; for the terror of his name, says the writer last quoted, had everywhere gone before him. He arrived before Atella at the beginning of July. The king of Naples was no sooner advised of his approach, than he marched out of camp, attended by the Venetian general, the marquis of Mantua, and the papal legate, Caesar Borgia, to receive him. All were eager to do honor to the man who had achieved such brilliant exploits; who, in less than a year, had made himself master of the larger part of the kingdom of Naples, and that, with the most limited resources, in defiance of the bravest and best disciplined soldiery in Europe. It was then, according to the Spanish writers, that he was by general consent greeted with the title of the Great Captain; by which he is much more familiarly known in Spanish, and, it may be added, in most histories of the period, than by his own name. [28]

Gonsalvo found the French sorely distressed by the blockade, which was so strictly maintained as to allow few supplies from abroad to pass into the town. His quick eye discovered at once, however, that in order to render it perfectly effectual, it would be necessary to destroy the mills in the vicinity, which supplied Atella with flour. He undertook this, on the day of his arrival, at the head of his own corps. Montpensier, aware of the importance of these mills, had stationed a strong guard for their defence, consisting of a body of Gascon archers, and the Swiss pikemen. Although the Spaniards had never been brought into direct collision with any large masses of this formidable infantry, yet occasional rencontres with small detachments, and increased familiarity with its tactics, had stripped it of much of its terrors. Gonsalvo had even so far profited by the example of the Swiss, as to strengthen his infantry by mingling the long pikes, with the short swords and bucklers of the Spaniards. [29]

He made two divisions of his cavalry, posting his handful of heavy-armed, with some of the light horse, so as to check any sally from the town, while he destined the remainder to support the infantry in the attack upon the enemy. Having made these arrangements, the Spanish chieftain led on his men confidently to the charge. The Gascon archery, however, seized with a panic, scarcely awaited his approach, but fled shamefully, before they had time to discharge a second volley of arrows, leaving the battle to the Swiss. These latter, exhausted by the sufferings of the siege, and dispirited by long reverses, and by the presence of a new and victorious foe, did not behave with their wonted intrepidity, but, after a feeble resistance, abandoned their position, and retreated towards the city. Gonsalvo, having gained his object, did not care to pursue the fugitives, but instantly set about demolishing the mills, every vestige of which, in a few hours, was swept from the ground. Three days after, he supported the Neapolitan troops in an assault on Ripa Candida, and carried that important post, by means of which Atella maintained a communication with the interior. [30]

Thus cut off from all their resources, and no longer cheered by hopes of succor from their own country, the French, after suffering the severest privations, and being reduced to the most loathsome aliment for subsistence, made overtures for a capitulation. The terms were soon arranged with the king of Naples, who had no desire but to rid his country of the invaders. It was agreed, that, if the French commander did not receive assistance in thirty days, he should evacuate Atella, and cause every place holding under him in the kingdom of Naples, with all its artillery, to be surrendered to King Ferdinand; and that, on these conditions, his soldiers should be furnished with vessels to transport them back to France; that the foreign mercenaries should be permitted to return to their own homes; and that a general amnesty should be extended to such Neapolitans as returned to their allegiance in fifteen days. [31]

Such were the articles of capitulation, signed on the 21st of July, 1496, which Comines, who received the tidings at the court of France, does not hesitate to denounce as "a most disgraceful treaty, without parallel, save in that made by the Roman consuls at the Caudine Forks, which was too dishonorable to be sanctioned by their countrymen." The reproach is certainly unmerited; and comes with ill grace from a court, which was wasting in riotous indulgence the very resources indispensable to the brave and loyal subjects, who were endeavoring to maintain its honor in a foreign land. [32]

Unfortunately, Montpensier was unable to enforce the full performance of his own treaty; as many of the French refused to deliver up the places intrusted to them, under the pretence that their authority was derived, not from the viceroy, but from the king himself. During the discussion of this point, the French troops were removed to Baia and Pozzuolo, and the adjacent places on the coast. The unhealthiness of the situation, together with that of the autumnal season, and an intemperate indulgence in fruits and wine, soon brought on an epidemic among the soldiers, which swept them off in great numbers. The gallant Montpensier was one of the first victims. He refused the earnest solicitations of his brother-in-law, the marquis of Mantua, to quit his unfortunate companions, and retire to a place of safety in the interior. The shore was literally strewed with the bodies of the dying and the dead. Of the whole number of Frenchmen, amounting to not less than five thousand, who marched out of Atella, not more than five hundred ever reached their native country. The Swiss and other mercenaries were scarcely more fortunate. "They made their way back as they could through Italy," says a writer of the period, "in the most deplorable state of destitution and suffering, the gaze of all, and a sad example of the caprice of fortune." [33] Such was the miserable fate of that brilliant and formidable array, which scarcely two years before had poured down on the fair fields of Italy in all the insolence of expected conquest. Well would it be, if the name of every conqueror, whose successes, though built on human misery, are so dazzling to the imagination, could be made to point a moral for the instruction of his species, as effectually as that of Charles the Eighth.

The young king of Naples did not live long to enjoy his triumphs. On his return from Atella, he contracted an inauspicious marriage with his aunt, a lady nearly of his own age, to whom he had been long attached. A careless and somewhat intemperate indulgence in pleasure, succeeding the hardy life which he had been lately leading, brought on a flux which carried him off in the twenty-eighth year of his age, and second of his reign. He was the fifth monarch, who, in the brief compass of three years, had sat on the disastrous throne of Naples.

Ferdinand possessed many qualities suited to the turbulent times in which he lived. He was vigorous and prompt in action, and naturally of a high and generous spirit. Still, however, he exhibited glimpses, even in his last hours, of an obliquity, not to say ferocity of temper, which characterized many of his line, and which led to ominous conjectures as to what would have been his future policy. [34]

He was succeeded on the throne by his uncle Frederic, a prince of gentle disposition, endeared to the Neapolitans by repeated acts of benevolence, and by a magnanimous regard for justice, of which the remarkable fluctuations of his fortune had elicited more than one example. His amiable virtues, however, required a kindlier soil and season for their expansion; and, as the event proved, made him no match for the subtile and unscrupulous politicians of the age.

His first act was a general amnesty to the disaffected Neapolitans, who felt such confidence in his good faith, that they returned, with scarcely an exception, to their allegiance. His next measure was to request the aid of Gonsalvo de Cordova in suppressing the hostile movements made by the French during his absence from Calabria. At the name of the Great Captain, the Italians flocked from all quarters, to serve without pay under a banner which was sure to lead them to victory. Tower and town, as he advanced, went down before him; and the French general, D'Aubigny, soon saw himself reduced to the necessity of making the best terms he could with his conqueror, and evacuating the province altogether. The submission of Calabria was speedily followed by that of the few remaining cities in other quarters, still garrisoned by the French; comprehending the last rood of territory possessed by Charles the Eighth in the kingdom of Naples. [35]

* * * * *

Our narrative now leads us on the beaten track of Italian history. I have endeavored to make the reader acquainted with the peculiar character and pretensions of the principal Spanish authorities, on whom I have relied in the progress of the work. This would be superfluous in regard to the Italian, who enjoy the rank of classics, not only in their own country, but throughout Europe, and have furnished the earliest models among the moderns of historic composition. Fortunately, two of the most eminent of them, Guicciardini and Paolo Giovio, lived at the period of our narrative, and have embraced the whole extent of it in their histories. These two writers, besides the attractions of elegant scholarship, and talent, occupied a position which enabled them to take a clear view of all the principal political movements of their age; circumstances, which have made their accounts of infinite value in respect to foreign transactions, as well as domestic. Guicciardini was a conspicuous actor in the scenes he describes; and a long residence at the court of Ferdinand the Catholic opened to him the most authentic sources of information in regard to Spain. Giovio, from his intimate relations with the principal persons of his time, had also access to the best sources of knowledge, while in the notice of foreign transactions he was but little exposed to those venal influences, which led him too often to employ the golden or iron pen of history as interest dictated. Unfortunately, a lamentable hiatus occurs in his greatest work, "Historiae sui Temporis," embracing the whole period intervening between the end of Charles VIII.'s expedition and the accession of Leo X., in 1513. At the time of the memorable sack of Rome by the duke of Bourbon, in 1527, Giovio deposited his manuscript, with a quantity of plate, in an iron chest, which he hid in an obscure corner of the church of Santa Maria sopra Minerva. The treasure, however, did not escape the searching eyes of two Spanish soldiers, who broke open the chest, and one of them seized on the plate, regarding the papers as of no value. The other, not being quite such a fool, says Giovio, preserved such of the manuscripts as were on vellum, and ornamented with rich bindings, but threw away what was written on paper.

The part thus thrown away contained six books, relating to the period above mentioned, which were never afterwards recovered. The soldier brought the remainder to their author, who bought them at the price of a vacant benefice, which he persuaded the pope to confer on the freebooter, in his native land of Cordova. It is not often that simony has found so good an apology. The deficiency, although never repaired by Giovio, was in some degree supplied by his biographies of eminent men, and, among others, by that of Gonsalvo de Cordova, in which he has collected with great industry all the events of any interest in the life of this great commander. The narrative is in general corroborated by the Spanish authorities, and contains some additional particulars, especially respecting his early life, which Giovio's personal intimacy with the principal characters of the period might easily have furnished.

This portion of our story is, moreover, illustrated by the labors of M. Sismondi, in his "Républiques Italiennes," which may undoubtedly claim to be ranked among the most remarkable historical achievements of our time; whether we consider the dexterous management of the narrative, or the admirable spirit of philosophy by which it is illumined. It must be admitted, that he has perfectly succeeded in unravelling the intricate web of Italian politics; and, notwithstanding the complicated, and, indeed, motley character of his subject, the historian has left a uniform and harmonious impression on the mind of the reader. This he has accomplished, by keeping constantly in view the principle which regulated all the various movements of the complex machinery; so that his narrative becomes, what he terms it in his English abridgment, a history of Italian liberty. By keeping this principle steadily before him, he has been able to solve much that hitherto was dark and problematical in his subject; and if he has occasionally sacrificed something to theory, he has, on the whole, pursued the investigation in a truly philosophical manner, and arrived at results the most honorable and cheering to humanity. Fortunately, his own mind was deeply penetrated with reverence for the free institutions which he has analyzed. If it is too much to say that the historian of republics should be himself a republican, it is at least true that his soul should be penetrated to its very depths with the spirit which animates them. No one, who is not smitten with the love of freedom, can furnish the key to much that is enigmatical in her character, and reconcile his readers to the harsh and repulsive features that she sometimes wears, by revealing the beauty and grandeur of the soul within.

That portion of our narrative which is incorporated with Italian story is too small to occupy much space on Sismondi's plan. He has discussed it, moreover, in a manner not very favorable to the Spaniards, whom he seems to have regarded with somewhat of the aversion with which an Italian of the sixteenth century viewed the ultramontane barbarians of Europe. Perhaps the reader may find some advantage in contemplating another side of the picture, and studying the less familiar details presented by the Spanish authorities.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Comines, Mémoires, liv. 7, chap. 17.--Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, tom. iii. lib. 6, cap. 2.--Giannone, Istoria di Napoli, lib. 29, cap. 2.

[2] Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 140-143.

[3] Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, tom. iii. lib. 6, cap. 2.

According to Giannone, (Istoria di Napoli, lib. 29, cap. 2,) he did obtain the investiture from the pope; but this statement is contradicted by several, and confirmed by none, of the authorities I have consulted.

[4] Brantôme, Hommes Illustres, Oeuvres, tom. ii. pp. 3-5.--Comines, Mémoires, liv. 8, chap. 2.

The particulars of the coronation are recorded with punctilious precision by André de la Vigne, secretary of Queen Anne. (Hist. de Charles VIII., p. 201.) Daru has confounded this farce with Charles's original entry into Naples in February. Hist. de Venise, tom. iii. liv. 20, p. 247.

[5] Villeneuve, Mémoires, apud Petitot, Collection de Mémoires, tom. xiv. pp. 262, 263.--Flassan, Diplomatie Française, tom. i. pp. 267-269.-- Comines, Mémoires, liv. 8, chap. 10-12, 18.

[6] Comines, Mémoires, liv. 8, chap. 1.--Brantôme, Hommes Illustres, tom. ii. p. 59.

[7] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 7.--Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, pp. 204, 205.

[8] Pulgar, Sumario de las Hazañas del Gran Capitan, (Madrid, 1834,) p. 145.--Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, pp. 205 et seq.

[9] Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 90.--Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, pp. 211, 212.--Conde, Dominacion de los Arabes, tom. iii. cap. 42.--Quintana, Españoles Célebres, tom. i. pp. 207-216.--Pulgar, Sumario, p. 193.

Florian has given circulation to a popular error by his romance of "Gonsalve de Cordone," where the young warrior is made to play a part he is by no means entitled to, as hero of the Granadine war. Graver writers, who cannot lawfully plead the privilege of romancing, have committed the same error. See, among others, Varillas, Politique de Ferdinand, p. 3.

[10] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, p. 214.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan Gonzalo Hernandez de Cordova y Aguilar, (Alcalá de Henares, 1584,) cap. 23.

Another example of his gallantry occurred during the Granadine war, when the fire of Santa Fe had consumed the royal tent, with the greater part of the queen's apparel and other valuable effects. Gonsalvo, on learning the disaster, at his castle of Illora, supplied the queen so abundantly from the magnificent wardrobe of his wife Doña Maria Manrique, as led Isabella pleasantly to remark, that, "the fire had done more execution in his quarters, than in her own." Pulgar, Sumario, p. 187.

[11] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, p. 214.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, cap. 23.

[12] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 7, 24.--Quintana, Españoles Célebres, tom. i. p. 222.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, ubi supra.

Giovio, in his biography of Gonsalvo, estimates these forces at 5000 foot and 600 horse, which last in his History he raises to 700. I have followed Zurita, as presenting the more probable statement, and as generally more accurate in all that relates to his own nation. It is a hopeless task to attempt to reconcile the manifold inaccuracies, contradictions, and discrepancies, which perplex the narratives of the writers on both sides, in everything relating to numerical estimates. The difficulty is greatly increased by the extremely vague application of the term lance, as we meet with it, including six, four, three, or even a less number of followers, as the case might be.

[13] Mariana, Hist. de España, tom. ii. lib. 26, cap. 10.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 7.

The occupation of these places by Gonsalvo excited the pope's jealousy, as to the designs of the Spanish sovereigns. In consequence of his remonstrances, the Castilian envoy, Garcilasso de la Vega, was instructed to direct Gonsalvo, that, "in case any inferior places had been since put into his hands, he should restore them; if they were of importance, however, he was first to confer with his own government." King Ferdinand, as Abarca assures his readers, "was unwilling to give cause of complaint to any one, unless he were greatly a gainer by it." Reyes de Aragon, rey 30, cap. 8.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, tom. v. lib. 2, cap. 8.

[14] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, pp. 215-217.--Idem, Hist. sui Temporis, pp. 83-85.--Bembo, Istoria Viniziana, lib. 3, pp. 160, 185.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 8.--Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 2, pp. 88, 92.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, cap. 25.

[15] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1.--Du Bos, Ligue de Cambray, introd., p. 58.

[16] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 7.--Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, ubi supra.

[17] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, pp. 216, 217.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, cap. 24.--Quintana, Españoles Célebres, tom. i. pp. 223-227.

[18] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 3, pp. 83-85.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, cap. 24.--Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, tom. iii. lib. 6, cap. 2.-- Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 2, p. 112.--Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib. 19, p. 690.

[19] Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 1, p. 112.--Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 3, p. 85.--Lanuza, Historias, tom. i. lib. 1, cap. 7.

[20] Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, tom. vi. p. 519.--Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 2, pp. 113, 114.--Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 3, pp. 87, 88.-- Villeneuve, Mémoires, apud Petitot, Collection des Mémoires, tom. xiv. pp. 264, 265.

[21] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 3, pp. 88-90, 114-119.-- Guicciardini, Istoria, lib, 2, pp. 114-117.--Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, tom. vi. pp. 520, 521.

[22] Bembo, Istoria Viniziana, lib. 3, pp. 173, 174.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, cap. 26.--Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, p. 218.-- Villeneuve, Mémoires, p. 313.--Sismondi, Républiques Italiennes, tom. xii. p. 386.

[23] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 11, 20.--Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 2, p. 140.--Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, pp. 219, 220.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, cap. 25, 26.

[24] Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 3, pp. 140, 157, 158.--Comines, Mémoires, liv. 8, chap. 23, 24.--Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 183.

Du Bos discriminates between the character of the German levies or landsknechts and the Swiss, in the following terms. "Les lansquenets étoient même de beaucoup mieux faits, généralement parlant, et de bien meilleure mine sous les armes, que les fantassins Suisses; mais ils étoient incapables de discipline. Au contraire des Suisses, ils étoient sans obéissance pour leur chefs, et sans amitié pours leurs camarades." (Ligue de Cambray, tom. i. dissert. prélim., p. 66.) Comines confirms the distinction with a high tribute to the loyalty of the Swiss, which has continued their honorable characteristic to the present day. Mémoires, liv. 8, chap. 21.

[25] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, pp. 218, 219.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, cap. 28.--Quintana, Españoles Célebres, tom. i. p. 226.--Bembo, Istoria Viniziana, lib. 3, p. 184.--Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 3, p. 158.

[26] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, pp. 219, 220.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, cap. 27.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, tom. i. lib. 2, cap. 26.--Quintana, Españoles Célebres, tom. i. pp. 227, 228.--Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 3, pp. 158, 159.--Mariana, Hist. de España, tom. ii. lib. 26, cap. 12.

[27] Giovio, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 4, p. 132.

[28] Quintana, Españoles Célebres, tom. i. p. 228.--Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, p. 220.

The Aragonese historians are much ruffled by the irreverent manner in which Guicciardini notices the origin of the cognomen of the Great Captain; which even his subsequent panegyric cannot atone for. "Era capitano Gonsalvo Ernandes, di casa d'Aghilar, di patria Cordovese, uomo di molto valore, ed esercitato lungamente nelle guerre di Granata, il quale nel principio della venuta sua in Italia, cognominato dalla jattanza Spagnuola il Gran Capitano, per significare con questo titolo la suprema podestà sopra loro, meritò per le preclare vittorie che ebbe dipoi, che per consentimento universale gli fosse confermato e perpetuate questo sopranome, per significazione di virtù grande, e di grande eccellenza nella disciplina militare." (Istoria, tom. i. p. 112.) According to Zurita, the title was not conferred till the Spanish general's appearance before Atella, and the first example of its formal recognition was in the instrument of capitulation at that place. (Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 27.) This seems to derive support from the fact that Gonsalvo's biographer and contemporary, Giovio, begins to distinguish him by that epithet from this period. Abarca assigns a higher antiquity to it, quoting the words of the royal grant of the duchy of Sessa, made to Gonsalvo, as authority. (Reyes de Aragon, rey 39, cap. 9.) In a former edition, I intimated my doubt of the historian's accuracy. A subsequent inspection of the instrument itself, in a work since come into my possession, shows this distrust to have been well founded; for it is there simply said, that the title was conferred in Italy. Pulgar, Sumario, p. 188.

[29] This was improving on the somewhat similar expedient ascribed by Polybius to King Pyrrhus, who mingled alternate cohorts, armed with short weapons after the Roman fashion, with those of his Macedonian spearmen. Lib. 17 sec. 24.

[30] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 4, p. 133.--Idem, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, pp. 220, 221.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 27. --Chrónica del Gran Capitan, cap. 28.--Quintana, Españoles Célebres, tom. i. p. 229.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, rey 30, cap. 9.

[31] Villeneuve, Mémoires, p. 318.--Comines, Mémoires, liv. 8, chap. 21.-- Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 4, p. 136.

[32] Comines, Mémoires, liv. 8, chap. 21.

[33] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, p. 137.--Comines, Mémoires, liv. 8, chap. 21.--Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, p. 221.--Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 3, p. 160.--Villeneuve, Mémoires, apud Petitot, tom. xiv. p. 318.

[34] Giannone, Istoria di Napoli, lib. 29, cap. 2.--Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, lib. 6, cap. 2.--Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 188.

While stretched on his death-bed, Ferdinand, according to Bembo, caused the head of his prisoner, the Bishop of Teano, to be brought to him, and laid at the foot of his couch, that he might be assured with his own eyes of the execution of the sentence. Istoria Viniziana, lib. 3, p. 189.

[35] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib, 4, p. 139.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 30, 33.--Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 3, p. 160.-- Giannone, Istoria di Napoli, tom. iii. lib. 29, cap. 3.

CHAPTER III.

ITALIAN WARS.--GONSALVO SUCCORS THE POPE.--TREATY WITH FRANCE.-- ORGANIZATION OF THE SPANISH MILITIA.

1496-1498.

Gonsalvo Succors the Pope.--Storms Ostia.--Reception in Rome.--Peace with France.--Ferdinand's Reputation advanced by his Conduct in the War.-- Organization of the Militia.

It had been arranged by the treaty of Venice, that while the allies were carrying on the war in Naples, the emperor elect and the king of Spain should make a diversion in their favor, by invading the French frontiers. Ferdinand had performed his part of the engagement. Ever since the beginning of the war, he had maintained a large force along the borders from Fontarabia to Perpignan. In 1496, the regular army kept in pay amounted to ten thousand horse and fifteen thousand foot; which, together with the Sicilian armament, necessarily involved an expenditure exceedingly heavy under the financial pressure occasioned by the Moorish war. The command of the levies in Roussillon was given to Don Enrique Enriquez de Guzman, who, far from acting on the defensive, carried his men repeatedly over the border, sweeping off fifteen or twenty thousand head of cattle in a single foray, and ravaging the country as far as Carcassona and Narbonne. [1] had concentrated a considerable force in the south, retaliated by similar inroads, in one of which they succeeded in surprising the fortified town of Salsas. The works, however, were in so dilapidated a state, that the place was scarcely tenable, and it was abandoned on the approach of the Spanish army. A truce soon followed, which put an end to further operations in that quarter. [2]

The submission of Calabria seemed to leave no further occupation for the arms of the Great Captain in Italy. Before quitting that country, however, he engaged in an adventure, which, as narrated by his biographers, forms a brilliant episode to his regular campaigns. Ostia, the seaport of Rome, was, among the places in the papal territory, forcibly occupied by Charles the Eighth, and on his retreat had been left to a French garrison under the command of a Biscayan adventurer named Menaldo Guerri. The place was so situated as entirely to command the mouth of the Tiber, enabling the piratical horde who garrisoned it almost wholly to destroy the commerce of Rome, and even to reduce the city to great distress for want of provisions. The imbecile government, incapable of defending itself, implored Gonsalvo's aid in dislodging this nest of formidable freebooters. The Spanish general, who was now at leisure, complied with the pontiff's solicitations, and soon after presented himself before Ostia with his little corps of troops, amounting in all to three hundred horse and fifteen hundred foot. [3]

Guerri, trusting to the strength of his defences, refused to surrender. Gonsalvo, after coolly preparing his batteries, opened a heavy cannonade on the place, which at the end of five days effected a practicable breach in the walls. In the mean time, Garcilasso de la Vega, the Castilian ambassador at the papal court, who could not bear to remain inactive so near the field where laurels were to be won, arrived to Gonsalvo's support, with a handful of his own countrymen resident in Rome. This gallant little band, scaling the walls on the opposite side to that assailed by Gonsalvo, effected an entrance into the town, while the garrison was occupied with maintaining the breach against the main body of the Spaniards. Thus surprised, and hemmed in on both sides, Guerri and his associates made no further resistance, but surrendered themselves prisoners of war; and Gonsalvo, with more clemency than was usually shown on such occasions, stopped the carnage, and reserved his captives to grace his entry into the capital. [4]

This was made a few days after, with all the pomp of a Roman triumph. The Spanish general entered by the gate of Ostia, at the head of his martial squadrons in battle array, with colors flying and music playing, while the rear was brought up by the captive chief and his confederates, so long the terror, now the derision, of the populace. The balconies and windows were crowded with spectators, and the streets, lined with multitudes, who shouted forth the name of Gonsalvo de Cordova, the "deliverer of Rome!" The procession took its way through the principal streets of the city towards the Vatican, where Alexander the Sixth awaited its approach, seated under a canopy of state in the chief saloon of the palace, surrounded by his great ecclesiastics and nobility. On Gonsalvo's entrance, the cardinals rose to receive him. The Spanish general knelt down to receive the benediction of the pope; but the latter, raising him up, kissed him on the forehead, and complimented him with the golden rose, which the Holy See was accustomed to dispense as the reward of its most devoted champions.

In the conversation which ensued, Gonsalvo obtained the pardon of Guerri and his associates, and an exemption from taxes for the oppressed inhabitants of Ostia. In a subsequent part of the discourse, the pope taking occasion most inopportunely to accuse the Spanish sovereigns of unfavorable dispositions towards himself, Gonsalvo replied with much warmth, enumerating the various good offices rendered by them to the church; and, roundly taxing the pope with ingratitude, somewhat bluntly advised him to reform his life and conversation, which brought scandal on all Christendom. His Holiness testified no indignation at this unsavory rebuke of the Great Captain, though, as the historians with some simplicity inform us, he was greatly surprised to find the latter so fluent in discourse, and so well instructed in matters foreign to his profession. [5]

Gonsalvo experienced the most honorable reception from King Frederic on his return to Naples. During his continuance there, he was lodged and sumptuously entertained in one of the royal fortresses; and the grateful monarch requited his services with the title of Duke of St. Angelo, and an estate in Abruzzo, containing three thousand vassals. He had before pressed these honors on the victor, who declined accepting them till he had obtained the consent of his own sovereigns. Soon after, Gonsalvo, quitting Naples, revisited Sicily, where he adjusted certain differences which had arisen betwixt the viceroy and the inhabitants respecting the revenues of the island. Then embarking with his whole force, he reached the shores of Spain in the month of August, 1498. His return to his native land was greeted with a general enthusiasm far more grateful to his patriotic heart, than any homage or honors conferred by foreign princes. Isabella welcomed him with pride and satisfaction, as having fully vindicated her preference of him to his more experienced rivals for the difficult post of Italy; and Ferdinand did not hesitate to declare, that the Calabrian campaigns reflected more lustre on his crown, than the conquest of Granada. [6]

The total expulsion of the French from Naples brought hostilities between that nation and Spain to a close. The latter had gained her point, and the former had little heart to resume so disastrous an enterprise. Before this event, indeed, overtures had been made by the French court for a separate treaty with Spain. The latter, however, was unwilling to enter into any compact, without the participation of her allies. After the total abandonment of the French enterprise, there seemed to exist no further pretext for prolonging the war. The Spanish government, moreover, had little cause for satisfaction with its confederates. The emperor had not co-operated in the descent on the enemy's frontier, according to agreement; nor had the allies ever reimbursed Spain for the heavy charges incurred in fulfilling her part of the engagements. The Venetians were taken up with securing to themselves as much of the Neapolitan territory as they could, by way of indemnification for their own expenses. [7] The duke of Milan had already made a separate treaty with King Charles. In short, every member of the league, after the first alarm subsided, had shown itself ready to sacrifice the common weal to its own private ends. With these causes of disgust, the Spanish government consented to a truce with France, to begin for itself on the 5th of March, and, for the allies, if they chose to be included in it, seven weeks later, and to continue till the end of October, 1497. This truce was subsequently prolonged, and, after the death of Charles the Eighth, terminated in a definitive treaty of peace, signed at Marcoussi, August 5th, 1498. [8]

In the discussions to which these arrangements gave rise, the project is said to have been broached for the conquest and division of the kingdom of Naples by the combined powers of France and Spain, which was carried into effect some years later. According to Comines, the proposition originated with the Spanish court, although it saw fit, in a subsequent period of the negotiations, to disavow the fact. [9] The Spanish writers, on the other hand, impute the first suggestion of it to the French, who, they say, went so far as to specify the details of the partition subsequently adopted, according to which the two Calabrias were assigned to Spain. However this may be, there is little doubt that Ferdinand had long since entertained the idea of asserting his claim, at some time or other, to the crown of Naples. He, as well as his father, and indeed the whole nation, had beheld with dissatisfaction the transfer of what they deemed their rightful inheritance, purchased by the blood and treasure of Aragon, to an illegitimate branch of the family. The accession of Frederic, in particular, who came to the throne with the support of the Angevin party, the old enemies of Aragon, had given great umbrage to the Spanish monarch.

The Castilian envoy, Garcilasso de la Vega, agreeably to the instructions of his court, urged Alexander the Sixth to withhold the investiture of the kingdom from Frederic, but unavailingly, as the pope's interests were too closely connected, by marriage, with those of the royal family of Naples. Under these circumstances, it was somewhat doubtful what course Gonsalvo should be directed to pursue in the present exigency. That prudent commander, however, found the new monarch too strong in the affections of his people to be disturbed at present. All that now remained for Ferdinand, therefore, was to rest contented with the possession of the strong posts pledged for the reimbursement of his expenses in the war, and to make such use of the correspondence which the late campaigns had opened to him in Calabria, that, when the time arrived for action, he might act with effect. [10]

Ferdinand's conduct through the whole of the Italian war had greatly enhanced his reputation throughout Europe for sagacity and prudence. It afforded a most advantageous comparison with that of his rival, Charles the Eighth, whose very first act had been the surrender of so important a territory as Roussillon. The construction of the treaty relating to this, indeed, laid the Spanish monarch open to the imputation of artifice. But this, at least, did no violence to the political maxims of the age and only made him regarded as the more shrewd and subtile diplomatist; while, on the other hand, he appeared before the world in the imposing attitude of the defender of the church, and of the rights of his injured kinsman. His influence had been clearly discernible in every operation of moment, whether civil or military. He had been most active, through his ambassadors at Genoa, Venice, and Rome, in stirring up the great Italian confederacy, which eventually broke the power of King Charles; and his representations had tended, as much as any other cause, to alarm the jealousy of Sforza, to fix the vacillating politics of Alexander, and to quicken the cautious and dilatory movements of Venice. He had shown equal vigor in action; and contributed mainly to the success of the war by his operations on the side of Roussillon, and still more in Calabria. On the latter, indeed, he had not lavished any extraordinary expenditure; a circumstance partly attributable to the state of his finances, severely taxed, as already noticed, by the Granadine war, as well as by the operations in Roussillon, but in part, also, to his habitual frugality, which, with a very different spirit from that of his illustrious consort, always stinted the measure of his supplies to the bare exigency of the occasion. Fortunately, the genius of the Great Captain was so fruitful in resources, as to supply every deficiency; enabling him to accomplish such brilliant results, as effectually concealed any poverty of preparation on the part of his master.

The Italian wars were of signal importance to the Spanish nation. Until that time, they had been cooped up within the narrow limits of the Peninsula, uninstructed and taking little interest in the concerns of the rest of Europe. A new world was now opened to them. They were taught to measure their own strength by collision with other powers on a common scene of action; and, success inspiring them with greater confidence, seemed to beckon them on towards the field, where they were destined to achieve still more splendid triumphs.

This war afforded them also a most useful lesson of tactics. The war of Granada had insensibly trained up a hardy militia, patient and capable of every privation and fatigue, and brought under strict subordination. This was a great advance beyond the independent and disorderly habits of the feudal service. A most valuable corps of light troops had been formed, schooled in all the wild, irregular movements of guerilla warfare. But the nation was still defective in that steady, well-disciplined infantry, which, in the improved condition of military science, seemed destined to decide the fate of battles in Europe thenceforward.

The Calabrian campaigns, which were suited in some degree to the display of their own tactics, fortunately gave the Spaniards opportunity for studying at leisure those of their adversaries. The lesson was not lost. Before the end of the war important innovations were made in the discipline and arms of the Spanish soldier. The Swiss pike, or lance, which, as has been already noticed, Gonsalvo de Cordova had mingled with the short sword of his own legions, now became the regular weapon of one- third of the infantry. The division of the various corps in the cavalry and infantry services was arranged on more scientific principles, and the whole, in short, completely reorganized. [11]

Before the end of the war, preparations were made for embodying a national militia, which should take the place of the ancient hermandad. Laws were passed regulating the equipment of every individual according to his property. A man's arms were declared not liable for debt, even to the crown; and smiths and other artificers were restricted, under severe penalties, from working them up into other articles. [12] In 1496, a census was taken of all persons capable of bearing arms; and by an ordinance, dated at Valladolid, February 22d, in the same year, it was provided that one out of every twelve inhabitants, between twenty and forty-five years of age, should be enlisted in the service of the state, whether for foreign war, or the suppression of disorders at home. The remaining eleven were liable to be called on in case of urgent necessity. These recruits were to be paid during actual service, and excused from taxes; the only legal exempts were the clergy, hidalgos, and paupers. A general review and inspection of arms were to take place every year, in the months of March and September, when prizes were to be awarded to those best accoutred, and most expert in the use of their weapons. Such were the judicious regulations by which every citizen, without being withdrawn from his regular occupation, was gradually trained up for the national defence; and which, without the oppressive incumbrance of a numerous standing army, placed the whole effective force of the country, prompt and fit for action, at the disposal of the government, whenever the public good should call for it. [13]

FOOTNOTES

[1] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 12-14; 16, 24.

Giovio says, in allusion to King Ferdinand's show of preparation on the frontier, "Ferdinandus, maximè cautus et pecuniae tenax, speciem ingentis coacti exercitus ad deterrendos hostes praebere, quam bellum gerere mallet, quum id sine ingenti pecunià administrari non posse intelligeret." Hist. sui Temporis, p. 140.

[2] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 35, 36.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, rey 30, cap. 9.--Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib. 19, cap. 5.-- Comines, Mémoires, liv. 8, chap. 23.--Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 169.

[3] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, p. 221.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, cap. 30.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 3, cap. 1.-- Villeneuve, Mémoires, p. 317.

[4] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, p. 222.--Quintana, Españoles Célebres, tom. i. p. 234.

[5] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, p. 222.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 3, cap. 1.--Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 3, p. 175.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, cap. 30.

[6] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, p. 223.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, cap. 31, 32.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 3, cap. 38.

[7] Comines says, with some naïveté, in reference to the places in Naples which the Venetians had got into their possession, "Je croy que leur intention n'est point de les rendre; car ils ne l'ont point de coustume quand elles leur sont bienséantes comme sont cellescy, qui sont du costé de leur goufre de Venise." Mémoires, p. 194.

[8] Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 3, p. 178.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 44; lib. 3, cap. 13, 19, 21, 26.--Comines, Mémoires, liv. 8, chap. 23.

[9] Comines gives some curious details respecting the French embassy, which he considers to have been completely outwitted by the superior management of the Spanish government; who intended nothing further at this time by the proposal of a division, than to amuse the French court until the fate of Naples should be decided. Mémoires, liv. 8, chap. 23.

[10] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 26, 33.--Mariana, Hist. de España, lib. 26, cap. 16.--Salazar de Mendoza, Monarquía, tom. i. lib. 3, cap. 10.

[11] Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., tom. vi. Ilust. 6.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 3, cap. 6.

The ancient Spaniards, who were as noted as the modern for the temper and finish of their blades, used short swords, in the management of which they were very adroit. "Hispano," says Livy, "punctim magis, quam caesim, adsueto petere hostem, brevitate habiles [gladii] et cum macronibus." (Hist., lib. 22, cap. 47.) Sandoval notices the short sword, "cortas espadas," as the peculiar weapon of the Spanish soldier in the twelfth century. Historia de los Reyes de Castilla y de Leon, (Madrid, 1792,) tom. ii. p. 240.

[12] Pragmáticas del Reyno, fol. 83, 127, 129.

The former of these ordinances, dated Taraçona, Sept. 18th, 1495, is extremely precise in specifying the appointments required for each individual.

Among other improvements, introduced somewhat earlier, may be mentioned that of organizing and thoroughly training a small corps of heavy-armed cavalry, amounting to twenty-five hundred. The number of men-at-arms had been greatly reduced in the kingdom of late years, in consequence of the exclusive demand for the ginetes in the Moorish war. Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS.

Ordinances were also passed for encouraging the breed of horses, which had suffered greatly from the preference very generally given by the Spaniards to mules. This had been carried to such a length, that, while it was nearly impossible, according to Bernaldez, to mount ten or twelve thousand cavalry on horses, ten times that number could be provided with mules. (Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 184.) "E porque si a esto se diesse lugar," says one of the pragmáticas, adverting to this evil, "muy prestamente se perderia en nuestros reynos la nobleza de la cauellería que en ellos suele auer, e se oluidaria el exercicio militar de que en los tiempos passados nuestra nacion de España ha alcançado gran fama e loor;" it was ordered that no person in the kingdom should be allowed to keep a mule, unless he owned a horse also; and that none but ecclesiastics and women should be allowed the use of mules in the saddle. These edicts were enforced with the utmost rigor, the king himself setting the example of conformity to them. By these seasonable precautions, the breed of Spanish horses, so long noted throughout Europe, was restored to its ancient credit, and the mule consigned to the humble and appropriate offices of drudgery, or raised only for exportation. For these and similar provisions, see Pragmáticas del Reyno, fol. 127-132.

Matéo Aleman's whimsical picaresco novel, Guzman d'Alfarache, contains a comic adventure, showing the excessive rigor with which the edict against mules was enforced, as late as the close of Philip II.'s reign. The passage is extracted in Roscoe's elegant version of the Spanish Novelists, Vol. I. p. 132.

[13] See a copy of the ordinance taken from the Archives of Simancas; apud Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., tom. vi. apend. 13.

When Francis I, who was destined to feel the effects of this careful military discipline, beheld, during his detention in Spain in the beginning of the following century, striplings with scarce down upon the chin, all armed with swords at their sides, he is said to have cried out, "O bienaventurada España, que pare y eria los hombres armados!" (L. Marineo, Cosas Memorables, lib. 5.) An exclamation not unworthy of a Napoleon,--or an Attila.

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