[22] The title of this work was "Coplas de Vita Christi, de la Cena con la Pasion, y de la Veronica con la Resurreccion de nuestro Redemtor. E las siete Angustias e siete Gozos de nuestra Senora, con otras obras mucho provechosas." It concludes with the following notice, "Fue la presente obra emprentada en la insigne Ciudad de Zaragoza de Aragon por industria e expensas de Paulo Hurus de Constancia aleman. A 27 dias de Noviembre, 1492." (Mendez, Typographia Espanola, pp. 134, 136.) It appears there were two or three other cancioneros compiled, none of which, however, were admitted to the honors of the press. (Bouterwek, Literatura Espanola, nota.) The learned Castro, some fifty years since, published an analysis with copious extracts from one of these made by Baena, the Jewish physician of John II., a copy of which existed in the royal library of the Escurial. Bibliotheca Espanola, tom. i. p. 265 et seq.

[23] Cancionero General, passim.—Moratin has given a list of the men of rank who contributed to this miscellany; it contains the names of the highest nobility of Spain. (Orig. del Teatro Espanol, Obras, tom. i. pp. 85, 86.) Castillo's Cancionero passed through several editions, the latest of which appeared in 1573. See a catalogue, not entirely complete, of the different Spanish Cancioneros in Bouterwek, Literatura Espanola, trad., p. 217.

[24] Cancionero General, pp. 83-89.—Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS.

[25] Cancionero General, pp. 158-161.—Some meagre information of this person is given by Nic. Antonio, whose biographical notices may be often charged with deficiency in chronological data; a circumstance perhaps unavoidable from the obscurity of their subjects. Biblioteca Vetus, tom. ii. lib. 10, cap. 6.

[26] There are probably more direct puns in Petrarch's lyrics alone, than in all the Cancionero General. There is another kind of niaiserie, however, to which the Spanish poets were much addicted, being the transposition of the word in every variety of sense and combination; as, for example,

"Acordad Vuestros olvidos Y olvida vuestros acuerdos Porque tales desacuerdos Acuerden vuestros sentidos," etc.

Cancionero General, fol. 226.

It was such subtilties as these, entricadas razones, as Cervantes calls them, that addled the brains of poor Don Quixote. Tom. i. cap. 1.

[27] Velasquez, Poesia Castellana, p. 122.—More than half a century later, the learned Ambrosio Morales complained of the barrenness of the Castilian, which he imputed to the too exclusive adoption of the Latin upon all subjects of dignity and importance. Obras, tom. xiv. pp. 147, 148.

[28] L. Marineo, speaking of this accomplished nobleman, styles him "virum satis illustrem.—Eum enim poetam et philosophum natura formavit ac peperit." He unfortunately fell in a skirmish, five years after his father's death, in 1479. Mariana, Hist. de Espana, tom. ii. p. 531.

[29] An elaborate character of this Quixotic old cavalier may be found in Pulgar, Claros Varones, tit. 13.

[30] "Don Jorge Manrique," says Lope de Vega, "cuyas coplas Castellanas admiren los ingenios estrangeros y merecen estar escritas con letras de oro." Obras Sueltas, tom. xii. Prologo.

[31] Coplas de Don Jorge Manrique, ed. Madrid, 1779.—Dialogo de las Lenguas, apud Mayans y Siscar, Origenes, tom. ii. p. 149.—Manrique's Coplas have also been the subject of a separate publication in the United States. Professor Longfellow's version, accompanying it, is well calculated to give the English reader a correct notion of the Castilian bard, and, of course, a very exaggerated one of the literary culture of the age.

[32] After proscribing certain profane mummeries, the law confines the clergy to the representation of such subjects as "the birth of our Saviour, in which is shown how the angels appeared, announcing his nativity; also his advent, and the coming of the three Magi kings to worship him; and his resurrection, showing his crucifixion and ascension on the third day; and other such things leading men to do well and live constant in the faith." (Siete Partidas, tit. 6, ley 34.) It is worth noting, that similar abuses continued common among the ecclesiastics, down to Isabella's reign, as may be inferred from a decree, very similar to the law of the Partidas above cited, published by the council of Aranda, in 1473. (Apud Moratin, Obras, tom. i. p. 87.) Moratin considers it certain, that the representation of the mysteries existed in Spain, as far back as the eleventh century. The principal grounds for this conjecture appear to be, the fact that such notorious abuses had crept into practice by the middle of the thirteenth century, as to require the intervention of the law. (Ibid., pp. 11, 13.) The circumstance would seem compatible with a much more recent origin.

[33] Cervantes, Comedias y Entremeses, (Madrid, 1749,) tom. i. prologo de Nasarre.—Velazquez, Poesia Castellana, p. 86.—The fifth volume of the Memoirs of the Spanish Royal Academy of History contains a dissertation on the "national diversions," by Don Gaspar Melchor de Jovellanos, replete with curious erudition, and exhibiting the discriminating taste to have been expected from its accomplished author. Among these antiquarian researches, the writer has included a brief view of the first theatrical attempts in Spain. See Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., tom. v. Mem. 6.

[34] Moratin, Obras, tom. i. p. 115.—Nasarre (Cervantes, Comedias, prol.), Jovellanos (Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., tom. v. Memor. 6), Pellicer (Origen y Progreso de la Comedia, (1804,) tom. i. p. 12), and others, refer the authorship of this little piece, without hesitation, to Juan de la Encina, although the year of its representation corresponds precisely with that of his birth. The prevalence of so gross a blunder among the Spanish scholars, shows how little the antiquities of their theatre were studied before the time of Moratin.

[35] This little piece has been published at length by Moratin, in the first volume of his works. (See Origenes del Teatro Espanol, Obras, tom. i. pp. 303-314.)

The celebrated marquis of Santillana's poetical dialogue, "Comedieta da Ponza," has no pretensions to rank as a dramatic composition, notwithstanding its title, which is indeed as little significant of its real character, as the term "Commedia" is of Dante's epic. It is a discourse on the vicissitudes of human life, suggested by a sea-fight near Ponza, in 1435. It is conducted without any attempt at dramatic action or character, or, indeed, dramatic development of any sort. The same remarks may be made of the political satire, "Mingo Revulgo," which appeared in Henry IV.'s reign. Dialogue was selected by these authors as a more popular and spirited medium than direct narrative for conveying their sentiments. The "Comedieta da Ponza" has never appeared in print; the copy which I have used is a transcript from the one in the royal library at Madrid, and belongs to Mr. George Ticknor.

[36] Tragicomedia de Calisto y Melibea, (Alcala, 1586,) Introd.—Nothing is positively ascertained respecting the authorship of the first act of the Celestina. Some impute it to Juan de Mena; others with more probability to Rodrigo Cota el Tio, of Toledo, a person who, although literally nothing is known of him, has in some way or other obtained the credit of the authorship of some of the most popular effusions of the fifteenth century; such, for example, as the Dialogue above cited of "Love and an Old Man," the Coplas of "Mingo Revulgo," and this first act of the "Celestina." The principal foundation of these imputations would appear to be the bare assertion of an editor of the "Dialogue between Love and an Old Man," which appeared at Medina del Campo, in 1569, nearly a century, probably, after Cota's death; another example of the obscurity which involves the history of the early Spanish drama. Many of the Castilian critics detect a flavor of antiquity in the first act which should carry back its composition as far as John II.'s reign. Moratin does not discern this, however, and is inclined to refer its production to a date not much more distant, if any, than Isabella's time. To the unpractised eye of a foreigner, as far as style is concerned, the whole work might well seem the production of the same period. Moratin, Obras, tom. i. pp. 88, 115, 116.—Dialogo de las Lenguas, apud Mayans y Siscar, Origenes, pp. 165- 167.—Nic. Antonio, Bibliotheca Nova, tom. ii. p. 263.

[37] Such is the high encomium of the Abate Andres, (Letteratura, tom. v. part. 2, lib. 1.)—Cervantes does not hesitate to call it "libro divino;" and the acute author of the "Dialogo de las Lenguas" concludes a criticism upon it with the remark, that "there is no book in the Castilian which surpasses it in the propriety and elegance of its diction." (Don Quixote, ed. de Pellicer, tom. i., p. 239.—Mayans y Siscar, tom. ii. p. 167.)

Its merits indeed seem in some degree to have disarmed even the severity of foreign critics; and Signorelli, after standing up stoutly in defence of the precedence of the "Orfeo" as a dramatic composition, admits the "Celestina" to be a "work, rich in various beauties, and meriting undoubted applause. In fact," he continues, "the vivacity of the description of character, and faithful portraiture of manners, have made it immortal." Storia Critica de' Teatri Antichi e Moderni, (Napoli, 1813,) tom. vi. pp. 146, 147.

[38] Bouterwek, Literatura Espanola, notas de traductores, p. 234.— Andres, Letteratura, tom. v. pp. 170, 171.—Lampillas, Letteratura Spagnuola, tom. vi. pp. 57-59.

[39] Rojas, Viage Entretenido, (1614,) fol. 46.—Nic. Antonio, Bibliotheca Nova, tom. i. p. 684.—Moratin, Obras, tom. i. pp. 126, 127.—Pellicer, Origen de la Comedia, tom. i. pp. 11, 12.

[40] They were published under the title "Cancionero de todas las Obras de Juan de la Encina con otras anadidas." (Mendez, Typographia Espanola, p. 247.) Subsequent impressions of his works, more or less complete, appeared at Salamanca in 1509, and at Saragossa in 1512 and 1516.—Moratin, Obras, tom. i. p. 127, nota.

[41] The comedian Rojas, who flourished in the beginning of the following century, and whose "Viage Entretenido" is so essential to the knowledge of the early histrionic art in Spain, identifies the appearance of Encina's Eclogues with the dawn of the Castilian drama. His verses may be worth quoting.

"Que es en nuestra madre Espana, porque en la dichosa era, que aquellos gloriosos Reyes dignos de memoria eterna Don Fernando e Ysabel (que ya con los santos reynan) de echar de Espana acabavan todos los Moriscos, que eran De aquel Reyno de Granada, y entonces se dava en ella principio a la Inquisicion, se le dio a nuestra comedia. Juan de la Encina el primero, aquel insigne poeta, que tanto bien empezo de quien tenemos tres eglogas Que el mismo represento al Almirante y Duquessa de Castilla, y de Infantado que estas fueron las primeras Y para mas honra suya, y de la comedia nuestra, en los dias que Colon descubrio la gran riqueza De Indias y nuevo mundo, y el gran Capitan empieza, a sugetar aquel Reyno de Napoles, y su tierra. A descubrirse empezo el uso de la comedia porque todos se animassen a emprender cosas tan buenas."

Fol. 46, 47.

[42] Signorelli, correcting what he denominates the "romance" of Lampillas, considers Encina to have composed only one pastoral drama, and that, on occasion of Ferdinand's entrance into Castile. The critic should have been more charitable, as he has made two blunders himself in correcting one. Storia Critica de' Teatri, tom. iv. pp. 192, 193.

[43] Andres, confounding Torres de Naharro, the poet, with Naharro the comedian, who flourished about half a century later, is led into a ludicrous train of errors in controverting Cervantes, whose criticism of the actor is perpetually misapplied by Andres to the poet. Velasquez seems to have confounded them in like manner. Another evidence of the extremely superficial acquaintance of the Spanish critics with their early drama. Comp. Cervantes, Comedias y Entremeses, tom. i. prologo.—Andres, Letteratura, tom. v. p. 179.—Velazquez, Poesia Castellana, p. 88.

[44] Nic. Antonio, Bibliotheca Nova, tom. i. p. 202.—Cervantes, Comedias, tom. i. prol. de Nasarre.—Pellicer, Origen de la Comedia, tom. ii. p. 17.—Moratin, Obras, tom. i. p. 48.

[45] Bartolome Torres de Naharro, Propaladia, (Madrid, 1573.)—The deficiency of the earlier Spanish books, of which Bouterwek repeatedly complains, has led him into an error respecting the "Propaladia," which he had never seen. He states that Naharro was the first to distribute the play into three jornadas or acts, and takes Cervantes roundly to task for assuming the original merit of this distribution to himself. In fact, Naharro did introduce the division into five jornadas, and Cervantes assumes only the credit of having been the first to reduce them to three. Comp. Bouterwek, Geschichte der Poesie und Beredsamkeit, band iii. p. 285,—and Cervantes, Comedias, tom. i. prol.

[46] In the argument to the "Seraphina," he thus prepares the audience for this colloquial olla podrida.

"Mas haveis de estar alerta por sentir los personages que hablan quatro lenguages, hasta acabar su rehyerta no salen de cuenta cierta por Latin e Italiano Castellano y Valenciano que ninguno desconcierta."

Propaladia, p. 50.

[47] The following is an example of the precious reasoning with which Floristan, in the play above quoted, reconciles his conscience to the murder of his wife Orfea, in order to gratify the jealousy of his mistress Seraphina. Floristan is addressing himself to a priest.

"Y por mas dano escusar no lo quiero hora hazer, sino que es menester, que yo mate luego a Orfea do Serafina lo vea porque lo pueda creer. Que yo bien me mataria, pues toda razon me inclina; pero se de Serafina que se desesperaria. y Orfea, pues que haria? quando mi muerte supiesse; que creo que no pudiesse sostener la vida un dia. Pues hablando aca entre nos a Orfea cabe la suerte; porque con su sola muerte se escusaran otras dos: de modo que padre vos si llamar me la quereys, a mi merced me hareys y tambien servicio a dios.

* * * * *

porque si yo la matare morira christianamente; yo morire penitente, quando mi suerte llegare."

Propaladia, fol. 68.

[48] Signorelli waxes exceedingly wroth with Don Blas Nasarre for the assertion, that Naharro first taught the Italians to write comedy, taxing him with downright mendacity; and he stoutly denies the probability of Naharro's comedies ever having been performed on the Italian boards. The critic seems to be in the right, as far as regards the influence of the Spanish dramatist; but he might have been spared all doubts respecting their representation in the country, had he consulted the prologue of Naharro himself, where he asserts the fact in the most explicit manner. Comp. Propaladia, prol., and Signorelli, Storia Critica de' Teatri, tom. vi. pp. 171-179.—See also Moratin, Origenes, Obras, tom. i. pp. 149, 150.

[49] Propaladia; see the comedies of "Trofea" and "Tinelaria."— Jovellanos, Memoria sobre las Diversiones Publicas, apud Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., tom. v.

[50] Cervantes, Comedias, tom. i. prol.

[51] Pellicer, Origen de la Comedia, tom. ii. pp. 58-62.—See also American Quarterly Review, no. viii. art. 3.

[52] Oliva, Obras, (Madrid, 1787.)—Vasco Diaz Tanco, a native of Estremadura, who flourished in the first half of the sixteenth century, mentions in one of his works three tragedies composed by himself on Scripture subjects. As there is no evidence, however, of their having been printed, or performed, or even read in manuscript by any one, they hardly deserve to be included in the catalogue of dramatic compositions. (Moratin, Obras, tom. i. pp. 150, 151.—Lampillas, Letteratura Spagnuola, tom. v. dis. 1, sec. 5.) This patriotic litterateur endeavors to establish the production of Oliva's tragedies in the year 1515, in the hope of antedating that of Trissino's "Sophonisba," composed a year later, and thus securing to his nation the palm of precedence, in time at least, though it should be only for a few months, on the tragic theatre of modern Europe. Letteratura Spagnuola, ubi supra.

[53] Nic. Antonio, Bibliotheca Nova, tom. i. p. 386.—Oliva, Obras, pref. de Morales.

[54] The following passage, for example, in the "Venganza de Agamemnon," imitated from the Electra of Sophocles, will hardly be charged on the Greek dramatist.

"Habed, yo os ruego, de mi compassion, no querais atapar con vuestros consejos los respiraderos de las hornazas de fuego, que dentro me atormentan." See Oliva, Obras, p. 185.

[55] Compare the diction of these tragedies with that of the "Centon Epistolario," for instance, esteemed one of the best literary compositions of John II.'s reign, and see the advance made, not only in orthography, but in the verbal arrangement generally, and the whole complexion of the style.

[56] Notwithstanding some Spanish critics, as Cueva, for example, have vindicated the romantic forms of the drama on scientific principles, it is apparent that the most successful writers in this department have been constrained to adopt them by public opinion, rather than their own, which would have suggested a nearer imitation of the classical models of antiquity, so generally followed by the Italians, and which naturally recommends itself to the scholar. See the canon's discourse in Cervantes, Don Quixote, ed. de Pellicer, tom. iii. pp. 207-220,—and, more explicitly, Lope de Vega, Obras Sueltas, tom. iv. p. 406.

[57] "Ya en Italia, assi entre Damas, como entre Caballeros, se tiene por gentileza y galania, saber hablar Castellano." Dialogo de las Lenguas, apud Mayans y Siscar, Origenes, tom. ii. p. 4.



PART SECOND.

1493-1517.

THE PERIOD WHEN, THE INTERIOR ORGANIZATION OF THE MONARCHY HAVING BEEN COMPLETED, THE SPANISH NATION ENTERED ON ITS SCHEMES OF DISCOVERY AND CONQUEST; OR THE PERIOD ILLUSTRATING MORE PARTICULARLY THE FOREIGN POLICY OF FERDINAND AND ISABELLA.

CHAPTER I.

ITALIAN WARS.—GENERAL VIEW OF EUROPE.—INVASION OF ITALY BY CHARLES VIII. OF FRANCE.

1493-1495.

Europe at the Close of the Fifteenth Century.—More Intimate Relations between States.—Italy the School of Politics.—Pretensions of Charles VIII. to Naples.—Treaty of Barcelona.—The French Invade Naples.— Ferdinand's Dissatisfaction.—Tactics and Arms of the Different Nations.— Preparations of Spain.—Mission to Charles VIII.—Bold Conduct of the Envoys.—The French enter Naples.

We have now reached that memorable epoch, when the different nations of Europe, surmounting the barriers which had hitherto confined them within their respective limits, brought their forces, as if by a simultaneous impulse, against each other on a common theatre of action. In the preceding part of this work, we have seen in what manner Spain was prepared for the contest, by the concentration of her various states under one government, and by such internal reforms, as enabled the government to act with vigor. The genius of Ferdinand will appear as predominant in what concerns the foreign relations of the country, as did that of Isabella in its interior administration. So much so, indeed, that the accurate and well-informed historian, who has most copiously illustrated this portion of the national annals, does not even mention, in his introductory notice, the name of Isabella, but refers the agency in these events exclusively to her more ambitious consort. [1] In this he is abundantly justified, both by the prevailing character of the policy pursued, widely differing from that which distinguished the queen's measures, and by the circumstance that the foreign conquests, although achieved by the united efforts of both crowns, were undertaken on, behalf of Ferdinand's own dominions of Aragon, to which in the end they exclusively appertained.

The close of the fifteenth century presents, on the whole, the most striking point of view in modern history; one from which we may contemplate the consummation of an important revolution in the structure of political society, and the first application of several inventions destined to exercise the widest influence on human civilization. The feudal institutions, or rather the feudal principle, which operated even where the institutions, strictly speaking, did not exist, after having wrought its appointed uses, had gradually fallen into decay; for it had not the power of accommodating itself to the increased demands and improved condition of society. However well suited to a barbarous age, it was found that the distribution of power among the members of an independent aristocracy was unfavorable to that degree of personal security and tranquillity indispensable to great proficiency in the higher arts of civilization. It was equally repugnant to the principle of patriotism, so essential to national independence, but which must have operated feebly among a people whose sympathies, instead of being concentrated on the state, were claimed by a hundred masters, as was the case in every feudal community. The conviction of this reconciled the nation to the transfer of authority into other hands; not those of the people, indeed, who were too ignorant, and too long accustomed to a subordinate, dependent situation, to admit of it,—but into the hands of the sovereign. It was not until three centuries more had elapsed, that the condition of the great mass of the people was to be so far improved, as to qualify them for asserting and maintaining the political consideration which of right belongs to them.

In whatever degree public opinion and the progress of events might favor the transition of power from the aristocracy to the monarch, it is obvious that much would depend on his personal character; since the advantages of his station alone made him by no means a match for the combined forces of his great nobility. The remarkable adaptation of the characters of the principal sovereigns of Europe to this exigency, in the latter half of the fifteenth century, would seem to have something providential in it. Henry the Seventh of England, Louis the Eleventh of France, Ferdinand of Naples, John the Second of Aragon, and his son Ferdinand, and John the Second of Portugal, however differing in other respects, were all distinguished by a sagacity, which enabled them to devise the most subtile and comprehensive schemes of policy, and which was prolific in expedients for the circumvention of enemies too potent to be encountered by open force.

Their operations, all directed towards the same point, were attended with similar success, resulting in the exaltation of the royal prerogative at the expense of the aristocracy, with more or less deference to the rights of the people, as the case might be; in France, for example, with almost total indifference to them, while in Spain they were regarded, under the parental administration of Isabella, which tempered the less scrupulous policy of her husband, with tenderness and respect. In every country, however, the nation at large gained greatly by the revolution, which came on insensibly, at least without any violent shock to the fabric of society, and which, by securing internal tranquillity and the ascendency of law over brute force, gave ample scope for those intellectual pursuits, that withdraw mankind from sensual indulgence, and too exclusive devotion to the animal wants of our nature.

No sooner was the internal organization of the different nations of Europe placed on a secure basis, than they found leisure to direct their views, hitherto confined within their own limits, to a bolder and more distant sphere of action. Their international communication was greatly facilitated by several useful inventions coincident with this period, or then first extensively applied. Such was the art of printing, diffusing knowledge with the speed and universality of light; the establishment of posts, which, after its adoption by Louis the Eleventh, came into frequent use in the beginning of the sixteenth century; and lastly, the compass, which, guiding the mariner unerringly through the trackless wastes of the ocean, brought the remotest regions into contact. With these increased facilities for intercommunication, the different European states might be said to be brought into as intimate relation with one another, as the different provinces of the same kingdom were before. They now for the first time regarded each other as members of one great community, in whose action they were all mutually concerned. A greater anxiety was manifested to detect the springs of every political movement of their neighbors. Missions became frequent, and accredited agents were stationed, as a sort of honorable spies, at the different courts. The science of diplomacy, on narrower grounds, indeed, than it is now practised, began to be studied. [2] Schemes of aggression and resistance, leading to political combinations the most complex and extended, were gradually formed. We are not to imagine, however, the existence of any well-defined ideas of a balance of power at this early period. The object of these combinations was some positive act of aggression or resistance, for purposes of conquest or defence, not for the maintenance of any abstract theory of political equilibrium. This was the result of much deeper reflection, and of prolonged experience.

The management of the foreign relations of the nation, at the close of the fifteenth century, was resigned wholly to the sovereign. The people took no further part or interest in the matter, than if it had concerned only the disposition of his private property. His measures were, therefore, often characterized by a degree of temerity and precipitation, that could not have been permitted under the salutary checks afforded by popular interposition. A strange insensibility, indeed, was shown to the rights and interests of the nation. War was regarded as a game, in which the sovereign parties engaged, not on behalf of their subjects, but exclusively on their own. Like desperate gamblers, they contended for the spoils or the honors of victory, with so much the more recklessness as their own station was too elevated to be materially prejudiced by the results. They contended with all the animosity of personal feeling; every device, however paltry, was resorted to; and no advantage was deemed unwarrantable, which could tend to secure the victory. The most profligate maxims of state policy were openly avowed by men of reputed honor and integrity. In short, the diplomacy of that day is very generally characterized by a low cunning, subterfuge, and petty trickery, which would leave an indelible stain on the transactions of private individuals.

Italy was, doubtless, the great school where this political morality was taught. That country was broken up into a number of small states, too nearly equal to allow the absolute supremacy of any one; while, at the same time, it demanded the most restless vigilance on the part of each to maintain its independence against its neighbors. Hence such a complexity of intrigues and combinations as the world had never before witnessed. A subtile, refined policy was conformable to the genius of the Italians. It was partly the result, moreover, of their higher cultivation, which naturally led them to trust the settlement of their disputes to superior intellectual dexterity, rather than to brute force, like the barbarians beyond the Alps. [3] From these and other causes, maxims were gradually established, so monstrous in their nature as to give the work, which first embodied them in a regular system, the air of a satire rather than a serious performance, while the name of its author has been converted into a by-word of political knavery. [4]

At the period before us, the principal states of Italy were, the republics of Venice and Florence, the duchy of Milan, the papal see, and the kingdom of Naples. The others may be regarded merely as satellites, revolving round some one or other of these superior powers, by whom their respective movements were regulated and controlled. Venice may be considered as the most formidable of the great powers, taking into consideration her wealth, her powerful navy, her territory in the north, and princely colonial domain. There was no government in that age which attracted such general admiration, both from natives and foreigners; who seem to have looked upon it as affording the very best model of political wisdom. [5] Yet there was no country where the citizen enjoyed less positive freedom; none whose foreign relations were conducted with more absolute selfishness, and with a more narrow, bargaining spirit, savoring rather of a company of traders than of a great and powerful state. But all this was compensated, in the eyes of her contemporaries, by the stability of her institutions, which still remained unshaken, amidst revolutions which had convulsed or overturned every other social fabric in Italy. [6]

The government of Milan was at this time under the direction of Lodovico Sforza, or Lodovico the Moor, as he is commonly called; an epithet suggested by his complexion, but which he willingly retained, as indicating the superior craftiness on which he valued himself. [7] He held the reins in the name of his nephew, then a minor, until a convenient season should arrive for assuming them in his own. His cool, perfidious character was stained with the worst vices of the most profligate class of Italian statesmen of that period.

The central parts of Italy were occupied by the republic of Florence, which had ever been the rallying point of the friends of freedom, too often of faction; but which had now resigned itself to the dominion of the Medici, whose cultivated tastes and munificent patronage shed a splendid illusion over their administration, which has blinded the eyes of contemporaries, and even of posterity.

The papal chair was filled by Alexander the Sixth, a pontiff whose licentiousness, avarice, and unblushing effrontery have been the theme of unmingled reproach, with Catholic as well as Protestant writers. His preferment was effected by lavish bribery, and by his consummate address, as well as energy of character. Although a native Spaniard, his election was extremely unpalatable to Ferdinand and Isabella, who deprecated the scandal it must bring upon the church, and who had little to hope for themselves, in a political view, from the elevation of one of their own subjects even, whose mercenary spirit placed him at the control of the highest bidder. [8]

The Neapolitan sceptre was swayed by Ferdinand the First, whose father, Alfonso the Fifth, the uncle of Ferdinand of Aragon, had obtained the crown by the adoption of Joanna of Naples, or rather by his own good sword. Alfonso settled his conquest on his illegitimate son Ferdinand, to the prejudice of the rights of Aragon, by whose blood and treasure he had achieved it. Ferdinand's character, the very opposite of his noble father's, was dark, wily, and ferocious. His life was spent in conflict with his great feudal nobility, many of whom supported the pretensions of the Angevin family. But his superior craft enabled him to foil every attempt of his enemies. In effecting this, indeed, he shrunk from no deed of treachery or violence, however atrocious, and in the end had the satisfaction of establishing his authority, undisputed, on the fears of his subjects. He was about seventy years of age at the period of which we are treating, 1493. The heir apparent, Alfonso, was equally sanguinary in his temper, though possessing less talent for dissimulation than his father.

Such was the character of the principal Italian courts at the close of the fifteenth century. The politics of the country were necessarily regulated by the temper and views of the leading powers. They were essentially selfish and personal. The ancient republican forms had been gradually effaced during this century, and more arbitrary ones introduced. The name of freedom, indeed, was still inscribed on their banners, but the spirit had disappeared. In almost every state, great or small, some military adventurer, or crafty statesman, had succeeded in raising his own authority on the liberties of his country; and his sole aim seemed to be to enlarge it still further, and to secure it against the conspiracies and revolutions, which the reminiscence of ancient independence naturally called forth. Such was the case with Tuscany, Milan, Naples, and the numerous subordinate states. In Rome, the pontiff proposed no higher object than the concentration of wealth and public honors in the hands of his own family. In short, the administration of every state seemed to be managed with exclusive reference to the personal interests of its chief. Venice was the only power of sufficient strength and stability to engage in more extended schemes of policy, and even these were conducted, as has been already noticed, in the narrow and calculating spirit of a trading corporation.

But, while no spark of generous patriotism seemed to warm the bosoms of the Italians; while no sense of public good, or even menace of foreign invasion, could bring them to act in concert with one another, [9] the internal condition of the country was eminently prosperous. Italy had far outstripped the rest of Europe in the various arts of civilized life; and she everywhere afforded the evidence of faculties developed by unceasing intellectual action. The face of the country itself was like a garden; "cultivated through all its plains to the very tops of the mountains; teeming with population, with riches, and an unlimited commerce; illustrated by many munificent princes, by the splendor of many noble and beautiful cities, and by the majesty of religion; and adorned with all those rare and precious gifts, which render a name glorious among the nations." [10] Such are the glowing strains in which the Tuscan historian celebrates the prosperity of his country, ere yet the storm of war had descended on her beautiful valleys.

This scene of domestic tranquillity was destined to be changed by that terrible invasion which the ambition of Lodovico Sforza brought upon his country. He had already organized a coalition of the northern powers of Italy, to defeat the interference of the king of Naples in behalf of his grandson, the rightful duke of Milan, whom his uncle held in subjection during a protracted minority, while he exercised all the real functions of sovereignty in his name. Not feeling sufficiently secure from his Italian confederacy, Sforza invited the king of France to revive the hereditary claims of the house of Anjou to the crown of Naples, promising to aid him in the enterprise with all his resources. In this way, this wily politician proposed to divert the storm from his own head, by giving Ferdinand sufficient occupation at home.

The throne of France was at that time filled by Charles the Eighth, a monarch scarcely twenty-two years of age. His father, Louis the Eleventh, had given him an education unbecoming, not only a great prince, but even a private gentleman. He would allow him to learn no other Latin, says Brantome, than his favorite maxim, "Qui nescit dissimulare, nescit regnare." [11] Charles made some amends for this, though with little judgment, in later life, when left to his own disposal. His favorite studies were the exploits of celebrated conquerors, of Caesar and Charlemagne particularly, which filled his young mind with vague and visionary ideas of glory. These dreams were still further nourished by the tourneys and other chivalrous spectacles of the age, in which he delighted, until he seems to have imagined himself some doughty paladin of romance, destined to the achievement of a grand and perilous enterprise. It affords some proof of this exalted state of his imagination, that he gave his only son the name of Orlando, after the celebrated hero of Roncesvalles. [12]

With a mind thus excited by chimerical visions of military glory, he lent a willing ear to the artful propositions of Sforza. In the extravagance of vanity, fed by the adulation of interested parasites, he affected to regard the enterprise against Naples as only opening the way to a career of more splendid conquests, which were to terminate in the capture of Constantinople, and the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre. He even went so far as to purchase of Andrew Paleologus, the nephew and heir of Constantine, the last of the Caesars, his title to the Greek empire. [13]

Nothing could be more unsound, according to the principles of the present day, than Charles's claims to the crown of Naples. Without discussing the original pretensions of the rival houses of Aragon and Anjou, it is sufficient to state, that, at the time of Charles the Eighth's invasion, the Neapolitan throne had been in the possession of the Aragonese family more than half a century, under three successive princes solemnly recognized by the people, sanctioned by repeated investitures of the papal suzerain, and admitted by all the states of Europe. If all this did not give validity to their title, when was the nation to expect repose? Charles's claim, on the other hand, was derived originally from a testamentary bequest of Rene, count of Provence, operating to the exclusion of the son of his own daughter, the rightful heir of the house of Anjou; Naples being too notoriously a female fief to afford any pretext for the action of the Salic law. The pretensions of Ferdinand, of Spain, as representative of the legitimate branch of Aragon, were far more plausible. [14]

Independently of the defects in Charles's title, his position was such as to make the projected expedition every way impolitic. A misunderstanding had for some time subsisted between him and the Spanish sovereigns, and he was at open war with Germany and England; so that it was only by large concessions that he could hope to secure their acquiescence in an enterprise most precarious in its character, and where even complete success could be of no permanent benefit to his kingdom. "He did not understand," says Voltaire, "that a dozen villages adjacent to one's territory, are of more value than a kingdom four hundred leagues distant." [15] By the treaties of Etaples and Senlis, he purchased a reconciliation with Henry the Seventh of England, and with Maximilian, the emperor elect; and finally, by that of Barcelona, effected an amicable adjustment of his difficulties with Spain. [16]

This treaty, which involved the restoration of Roussillon and Cerdagne, was of great importance to the crown of Aragon. These provinces, it will be remembered, had been originally mortgaged by Ferdinand's father, King John the Second, to Louis the Eleventh of France, for the sum of three hundred thousand crowns, in consideration of aid to be afforded by the latter monarch against the Catalan insurgents. Although the stipulated sum had never been paid by Aragon, yet a plausible pretext for requiring the restitution was afforded by Louis the Eleventh's incomplete performance of his engagements, as well as by the ample reimbursement, which the French government had already derived from the revenues of these countries. [17] This treaty had long been a principal object of Ferdinand's policy. He had not, indeed, confined himself to negotiation, but had made active demonstrations more than once of occupying the contested territory by force. Negotiation, however, was more consonant to his habitual policy; and, after the termination of the Moorish war, he pressed it with the utmost vigor, repairing with the queen to Barcelona, in order to watch over the deliberations of the envoys of the two nations at Figueras. [18]

The French historians accuse Ferdinand of bribing two ecclesiastics, in high influence at their court, to make such a representation of the affair, as should alarm the conscience of the young monarch. These holy men insisted on the restoration of Roussillon as an act of justice; since the sums for which it had been mortgaged, though not repaid, had been spent in the common cause of Christendom, the Moorish war. The soul, they said, could never hope to escape from purgatory, until restitution was made of all property unlawfully held during life. His royal father, Louis the Eleventh, was clearly in this predicament, as he himself would hereafter be, unless the Spanish territories should be relinquished; a measure, moreover, the more obligatory on him, since it was well known to be the dying request of his parent. These arguments made a suitable impression on the young monarch, and a still deeper on his sister, the duchess of Beaujeu, who exercised great influence over him, and who believed her own soul in peril of eternal damnation by deferring the act of restoration any longer. The effect of this cogent reasoning was no doubt greatly enhanced by the reckless impatience of Charles, who calculated no cost in the prosecution of his chimerical enterprise. With these amicable dispositions an arrangement was at length concluded, and received the signatures of the respective monarchs on the same day, being signed by Charles at Tours, and by Ferdinand and Isabella at Barcelona, January 19th, 1493. [19]

The principal articles of the treaty provided, that the contracting parties should mutually aid each other against all enemies; that they should reciprocally prefer this alliance to that with any other, the vicar of Christ excepted; that the Spanish sovereigns should enter into no understanding with any power, the vicar of Christ excepted, prejudicial to the interests of France; that their children should not be disposed of in marriage to the kings of England, or of the Romans, or to any enemy of France, without the French king's consent. It was finally stipulated that Roussillon and Cerdagne should be restored to Aragon; but that, as doubts might be entertained to which power the possession of these countries rightfully appertained, arbitrators named by Ferdinand and Isabella should be appointed, if requested by the French monarch, with full power to decide the question, by whose judgment the contracting parties mutually promised to abide. This last provision, obviously too well guarded to jeopard the interests of the Spanish sovereigns, was introduced to allay in some measure the discontents of the French, who loudly inveighed against their cabinet, as sacrificing the interests of the nation; accusing, indeed, the Cardinal D'Albi, the principal agent in the negotiation, of being in the pay of Ferdinand. [20]

The treaty excited equal surprise and satisfaction in Spain, where Roussillon was regarded as of the last importance, not merely from the extent of its resources, but from its local position, which made it the key of Catalonia. The nation, says Zurita, looked on its recovery as scarcely less important than the conquest of Granada; and they doubted some sinister motive, or deeper policy than appeared in the conduct of the French king. He was influenced, however, by no deeper policy than the cravings of a puerile ambition. [21]

The preparations of Charles, in the mean while, excited general alarm throughout Italy. Ferdinand, the old king of Naples, who in vain endeavored to arrest them by negotiation, had died in the beginning of 1494. He was succeeded by his son Alfonso, a prince of bolder but less politic character, and equally odious, from the cruelty of his disposition, with his father. He lost no time in putting his kingdom in a posture of defence; but he wanted the best of all defences, the attachment of his subjects. His interests were supported by the Florentine republic and the pope, whose family had intermarried with the royal house of Naples. Venice stood aloof, secure in her remoteness, unwilling to compromise her interests by too precipitate a declaration in favor of either party.

The European powers regarded the expedition of Charles the Eighth with somewhat different feelings; most of them were not unwilling to see so formidable a prince waste his resources in a remote and chimerical expedition; Ferdinand, however, contemplated with more anxiety an event, which might terminate in the subversion of the Neapolitan branch of his house, and bring a powerful and active neighbor in contact with his own dominions in Sicily. He lost no time in fortifying the faltering courage of the pope by assurances of support. His ambassador, then resident at the papal court, was Garcilasso de la Vega, father of the illustrious poet of that name, and familiar to the reader by his exploits in the Granadine war. This personage with rare political sagacity combined an energy of purpose, which could not fail to infuse courage into the hearts of others. He urged the pope to rely on his master, the king of Aragon, who, he assured him, would devote his whole resources, if necessary, to the protection of his person, honor, and estate. Alexander would gladly have had this promise under the hand of Ferdinand; but the latter did not think it expedient, considering his delicate relations with France, to put himself so far in the power of the wily pontiff. [22]

In the mean time, Charles's preparations went forward with the languor and vacillation resulting from divided councils and multiplied embarrassments. "Nothing essential to the conduct of a war was at hand," says Comines. The king was very young, weak in person, headstrong in will, surrounded by few discreet counsellors, and wholly destitute of the requisite funds. [23] His own impatience, however, was stimulated by that of the youthful chivalry of his court, who burned for an opportunity of distinction; as well as by the representations of the Neapolitan exiles, who hoped, under his protection, to re-establish themselves in their own country. Several of these, weary with the delay already experienced, made overtures to King Ferdinand to undertake the enterprise on his own behalf, and to assert his legitimate pretensions to the crown of Naples, which, they assured him, a large party in the country was ready to sustain. The sagacious monarch, however, knew how little reliance was to be placed on the reports of exiles, whose imaginations readily exaggerated the amount of disaffection in their own country. But, although the season had not yet arrived for asserting his own paramount claims, he was determined to tolerate those of no other potentate. [24]

Charles entertained so little suspicion of this, that, in the month of June, he despatched an envoy to the Spanish court, requiring Ferdinand's fulfilment of the treaty of Barcelona, by aiding him with men and money, and by throwing open his ports in Sicily for the French navy. "This gracious proposition," says the Aragonese historian, "he accompanied with information of his proposed expedition against the Turks; stating incidentally, as a thing of no consequence, his intention to take Naples by the way." [25]

Ferdinand saw the time was arrived for coming to an explicit declaration with the French court. He appointed a special mission, in order to do this in the least offensive manner possible. The person selected for this delicate task was Alonso de Silva, brother of the count of Cifuentes, and clavero of Calatrava, a cavalier possessed of the coolness and address requisite for diplomatic success. [26]

The ambassador, on arriving at the French court, found it at Vienne in all the bustle of preparation for immediate departure. After seeking in vain a private audience from King Charles, he explained to him the purport of his mission in the presence of his courtiers. He assured him of the satisfaction which the king of Aragon had experienced, at receiving intelligence of his projected expedition against the infidel. Nothing gave his master so great contentment, as to see his brother monarchs employing their arms, and expending their revenues, against the enemies of the Cross; where even failure was greater gain than success in other wars. He offered Ferdinand's assistance in the prosecution of such wars, even though they should be directed against the Mahometans of Africa, over whom the papal sanction had given Spain exclusive rights of conquest. He besought the king not to employ the forces destined to so glorious a purpose against any one of the princes of Europe, but to reflect how great a scandal this must necessarily bring on the Christian cause; above all, he cautioned him against forming any designs on Naples, since that kingdom was a fief of the church, in whose favor an exception was expressly made by the treaty of Barcelona, which recognized her alliance and protection as paramount to every other obligation. Silva's discourse was responded to by the president of the parliament of Paris in a formal Latin oration, asserting generally Charles's right to Naples, and his resolution to enforce it previously to his crusade against the infidel. As soon as it was concluded, the king rose and abruptly quitted the apartment. [27]

Some days after, he interrogated the Spanish ambassador, whether his master would not, in case of a war with Portugal, feel warranted by the terms of the late treaty in requiring the co-operation of France, and on what plea the latter power could pretend to withhold it. To the first of these propositions the ambassador answered in the affirmative, if it were a defensive war, but not, if an offensive one, of his own seeking; an explanation by no means satisfactory to the French monarch. Indeed, he seems not to have been at all prepared for this interpretation of the compact. He had relied on this, as securing without any doubt the non- interference of Ferdinand, if not his actual co-operation in his designs against Naples. The clause touching the rights of the church was too frequent in public treaties to excite any particular attention; and he was astounded at the broad ground, which it was now made to cover, and which defeated the sole object proposed by the cession of Roussillon. He could not disguise his chagrin and indignation at what he deemed the perfidy of the Spanish court. He refused all further intercourse with Silva, and even stationed a sentinel at his gate, to prevent his communication with his subjects; treating him as the envoy, not of an ally, but of an open enemy. [28]

The unexpected and menacing attitude, however, assumed by Ferdinand, failed to arrest the operations of the French monarch, who, having completed his preparations, left Vienne in the month of August, 1494, and crossed the Alps at the head of the most formidable host which had scaled that mountain barrier since the irruption of the northern barbarians. [29] It will be unnecessary to follow his movements in detail. It is sufficient to remark, that his conduct throughout was equally defective in principle and in sound policy. He alienated his allies by the most signal acts of perfidy, seizing their fortresses for himself, and entering their capitals with all the vaunt and insolent port of a conquerer. On his approach to Rome, the pope and the cardinals took refuge in the castle of St. Angelo, and on the 31st of December, Charles defiled into the city at the head of his victorious chivalry; if victorious they could be called, when, as an Italian historian remarks, they had scarcely broken a lance, or spread a tent, in the whole of their progress. [30]

The Italians were panic-struck at the aspect of troops so different from their own, and so superior to them in organization, science, and military equipment; and still more in a remorseless ferocity of temper, which had rarely been witnessed in their own feuds. Warfare was conducted on peculiar principles in Italy, adapted to the character and circumstances of the people. The business of fighting, in her thriving communities, instead of forming part of the regular profession of a gentleman, as in other countries at this period, was intrusted to the hands of a few soldiers of fortune, condottieri, as they were called, who hired themselves out, with the forces under their command, consisting exclusively of heavy-armed cavalry, to whatever state would pay them best. These forces constituted the capital, as it were, of the military chief, whose obvious interest it was to economize as far as possible all unnecessary expenditure of his resources. Hence, the science of defence was almost exclusively studied. The object seemed to be, not so much the annoyance of the enemy, as self-preservation. The common interests of the condottieri being paramount to every obligation towards the state which they served, they easily came to an understanding with one another to spare their troops as much as possible; until at length battles were fought with little more personal hazard than would be incurred in an ordinary tourney. The man-at-arms was riveted into plates of steel of sufficient thickness to turn a musket-ball. The ease of the soldier was so far consulted, that the artillery, in a siege, was not allowed to be fired on either side from sunset to sunrise, for fear of disturbing his repose. Prisoners were made for the sake of their ransom, and but little blood was spilled in an action. Machiavelli records two engagements, at Anghiari and Castracaro, among the most noted of the time for their important consequences. The one lasted four hours, and the other half a day. The reader is hurried along through all the bustle of a well-contested fight, in the course of which the field is won and lost several times; but, when he comes to the close, and looks for the list of killed and wounded, he finds to his surprise not a single man slain, in the first of these actions; and, in the second, only one, who, having tumbled from his horse, and being unable to rise, from the weight of his armor, was suffocated in the mud! Thus war became disarmed of its terrors. Courage was no longer essential in a soldier; and the Italian, made effeminate, if not timid, was incapable of encountering the adventurous daring and severe discipline of the northern warrior. [31]

The astonishing success of the French was still more imputable to the free use and admirable organization of their infantry, whose strength lay in the Swiss mercenaries. Machiavelli ascribes the misfortunes of his nation chiefly to its exclusive reliance on cavalry. [32] This service, during the whole of the Middle Ages, was considered among the European nations the most important; the horse being styled by way of eminence "the battle." The memorable conflict of Charles the Bold with the Swiss mountaineers, however, in which the latter broke in pieces the celebrated Burgundian ordonnance, constituting the finest body of chivalry of the age, demonstrated the capacity of infantry; and the Italian wars, in which we are now engaged, at length fully re-established its ancient superiority.

The Swiss were formed into battalions varying from three to eight thousand men each. They wore little defensive armor, and their principal weapon was the pike, eighteen feet long. Formed into these solid battalions, which, bristling with spears all around, received the technical appellation of the hedgehog, they presented an invulnerable front on every quarter. In the level field, with free scope allowed for action, they bore down all opposition, and received unshaken the most desperate charges of the steel- clad cavalry on their terrible array of pikes. They were too unwieldy, however, for rapid or complicated manoeuvres; they were easily disconcerted by any unforseen impediment, or irregularity of the ground; and the event proved, that the Spanish foot, armed with its short swords and bucklers, by breaking in under the long pikes of its enemy, could succeed in bringing him to close action, where his formidable weapon was of no avail. It was repeating the ancient lesson of the Roman legion and the Macedonian phalanx. [33]

In artillery, the French were at this time in advance of the Italians, perhaps of every nation in Europe. The Italians, indeed, were so exceedingly defective in this department, that their best field-pieces consisted of small copper tubes, covered with wood and hides. They were mounted on unwieldy carriages drawn by oxen, and followed by cars or wagons loaded with stone balls. These guns were worked so awkwardly, that the besieged, says Guicciardini, had time between the discharges to repair the mischief inflicted by them. From these circumstances, artillery was held in so little repute, that some of the most competent Italian writers thought it might be dispensed with altogether in field engagements. [34]

The French, on the other hand, were provided with a beautiful train of ordnance, consisting of bronze cannon about eight feet in length, and many smaller pieces. [35] They were lightly mounted, drawn by horses, and easily kept pace with the rapid movements of the army. They discharged iron balls, and were served with admirable skill, intimidating their enemies by the rapidity and accuracy of their fire, and easily demolishing their fortifications, which, before this invasion, were constructed with little strength or science. [36]

The rapid successes of the French spread consternation among the Italian states, who now for the first time seemed to feel the existence of a common interest, and the necessity of efficient concert. Ferdinand was active in promoting these dispositions, through his ministers, Garcilasso de la Vega and Alonso de Silva. The latter had quitted the French court on its entrance into Italy, and withdrawn to Genoa. From this point he opened a correspondence with Lodovico Sforza, who now began to understand, that he had brought a terrible engine into play, the movements of which, however mischievous to himself, were beyond his strength to control. Silva endeavored to inflame still further his jealousy of the French, who had already given him many serious causes of disgust; and, in order to detach him more effectually from Charles's interests, encouraged him with the hopes of forming a matrimonial alliance for his son with one of the infantas of Spain. At the same time, he used every effort to bring about a co-operation between the duke and the republic of Venice, thus opening the way to the celebrated league which was concluded in the following year. [37]

The Roman pontiff had lost no time, after the appearance of the French army in Italy, in pressing the Spanish court to fulfil its engagements. He endeavored to propitiate the good-will of the sovereigns by several important concessions. He granted to them and their successors the tercias, or two-ninths of the tithes, throughout the dominions of Castile; an impost still forming part of the regular revenue of the crown. [38] He caused bulls of crusade to be promulgated throughout Spain, granting at the same time a tenth of the ecclesiastical rents, with the understanding that the proceeds should be devoted to the protection of the Holy See. Towards the close of this year, 1494, or the beginning of the following, he conferred the title of Catholic on the Spanish sovereigns, in consideration, as is stated, of their eminent virtues, their zeal in defence of the true faith of the apostolic see, their reformation of conventual discipline, their subjugation of the Moors of Granada, and the purification of their dominions from the Jewish heresy. This orthodox title, which still continues to be the jewel most prized in the Spanish crown, has been appropriated in a peculiar manner to Ferdinand and Isabella, who are universally recognized in history as Los Reyes Catolicos. [39]

Ferdinand was too sensible of the peril, to which the occupation of Naples by the French would expose his own interests, to require any stimulant to action from the Roman pontiff. Naval preparations had been going forward during the summer, in the ports of Galicia and Guipuscoa. A considerable armament was made ready for sea by the latter part of December, at Alicant, and placed under the command of Galceran de Requesens, count of Trevento. The land forces were intrusted to Gonsalvo de Cordova, better known in history as the Great Captain. Instructions were at the same time sent to the viceroy of Sicily, to provide for the security of that island, and to hold himself in readiness to act in concert with the Spanish fleet. [40]

Ferdinand, however, determined to send one more embassy to Charles the Eighth, before coming to an open rupture with him. He selected for this mission Juan de Albion and Antonio de Fonseca, brother of the bishop of that name, whom we have already noticed as superintendent of the Indian department. The two envoys reached Rome, January 28th, 1495, the same day on which Charles set out on his march for Naples. They followed the army, and on arriving at Veletri, about twenty miles from the capital, were admitted to an audience by the monarch, who received them in the presence of his officers. The ambassadors freely enumerated the various causes of complaint entertained by their master against the French king; the insult offered to him in the person of his minister Alonso de Silva; the contumelious treatment of the pope, and forcible occupation of the fortresses and estates of the church; and finally, the enterprise against Naples, the claims to which as a papal fief could of right be determined in no other way than by the arbitration of the pontiff himself. Should King Charles consent to accept this arbitration, they tendered the good offices of their master as mediator between the parties; should he decline it, however, the king of Spain stood absolved from all further obligations of amity with him, by the terms of the treaty of Barcelona, which expressly recognized his right to interfere in defence of the church. [41]

Charles, who could not dissemble his indignation during this discourse, retorted with great acrimony, when it was concluded, on the conduct of Ferdinand, which he stigmatized as perfidious, accusing him, at the same time, of a deliberate design to circumvent him, by introducing into their treaty the clause respecting the pope. As to the expedition against Naples, he had now gone too far to recede; and it would be soon enough to canvass the question of right, when he had got possession of it. His courtiers, at the same time, with the impetuosity of their nation, heightened by the insolence of success, told the envoys, that they knew well enough how to defend their rights with their arms, and that King Ferdinand would find the French chivalry enemies of quite another sort from the holiday tilters of Granada.

These taunts led to mutual recrimination, until at length Fonseca, though naturally a sedate person, was so far transported with anger, that he exclaimed, "The issue then must be left to God,—arms must decide it;" and, producing the original treaty, bearing the signatures of the two monarchs, he tore it in pieces before the eyes of Charles and his court. At the same time he commanded two Spanish knights who served in the French army to withdraw from it, under pain of incurring the penalties of treason. The French cavaliers were so much incensed by this audacious action, that they would have seized the envoys, and, in all probability, offered violence to their persons, but for Charles's interposition, who with more coolness caused them to be conducted from his presence, and sent back under a safe escort to Rome. Such are the circumstances reported by the French and Italian writers of this remarkable interview. They were not aware that the dramatic exhibition, as far as the ambassadors were concerned, was all previously concerted before their departure from Spain. [42]

Charles pressed forward on his march without further delay. Alfonso the Second, losing his confidence and martial courage, the only virtues that he possessed, at the crisis when they were most demanded, had precipitately abandoned his kingdom while the French were at Rome, and taken refuge in Sicily, where he formally abdicated the crown in favor of his son, Ferdinand the Second. This prince, then twenty-five years of age, whose amiable manners were rendered still more attractive by contrast with the ferocious temper of his father, was possessed of talent and energy competent to the present emergency, had he been sustained by his subjects. But the latter, besides being struck with the same panic which had paralyzed the other people of Italy, had too little interest in the government to be willing to hazard much in its defence. A change of dynasty was only a change of masters, by which they had little either to gain or to lose. Though favorably inclined to Ferdinand, they refused to stand by him in his perilous extremity. They gave way in every direction, as the French advanced, rendering hopeless every attempt of their spirited young monarch to rally them, till at length no alternative was left, but to abandon his dominions to the enemy, without striking a blow in their defence. He withdrew to the neighboring island of Ischia, whence he soon after passed into Sicily, and occupied himself there in collecting the fragments of his party, until the time should arrive for more decisive action. [43]

Charles the Eighth made his entrance into Naples at the head of his legions, February 22d, 1495, having traversed this whole extent of hostile territory in less time than would be occupied by a fashionable tourist of the present day. The object of his expedition was now achieved. He seemed to have reached the consummation of his wishes; and, although he assumed the titles of King of Sicily and of Jerusalem, and affected the state and authority of Emperor, he took no measures for prosecuting his chimerical enterprise further. He even neglected to provide for the security of his present conquest; and, without bestowing a thought on the government of his new dominions, resigned himself to the licentious and effeminate pleasures so congenial with the soft voluptuousness of the climate, and his own character. [44]

While Charles was thus wasting his time and resources in frivolous amusements, a dark storm was gathering in the north. There was not a state through which he had passed, however friendly to his cause, which had not complaints to make of his insolence, his breach of faith, his infringement of their rights, and his exorbitant exactions. His impolitic treatment of Sforza had long since alienated that wily and restless politician, and raised suspicions in his mind of Charles's designs against his own duchy of Milan. The emperor elect, Maximilian, whom the French king thought to have bound to his interests by the treaty of Senlis, took umbrage at his assumption of the imperial title and dignity. The Spanish ambassadors, Garcilasso de la Vega, and his brother Lorenzo Suarez, the latter of whom resided at Venice, were indefatigable in stimulating the spirit of discontent. Suarez, in particular, used every effort to secure the co- operation of Venice, representing to the government, in the most urgent terms, the necessity of general concert and instant action among the great powers of Italy, if they would preserve their own liberties. [45]

Venice, from its remote position, seemed to afford the best point for coolly contemplating the general interests of Italy. Envoys of the different European powers were assembled there, as if by common consent, with the view of concerting some scheme of operation for their mutual good. The conferences were conducted by night, and with such secrecy as to elude for some time the vigilant eye of Comines, the sagacious minister of Charles, then resident at the capital. The result was the celebrated league of Venice. It was signed the last day of March, 1495, on the part of Spain, Austria, Rome, Milan, and the Venetian republic. The ostensible object of the treaty, which was to last twenty-five years, was the preservation of the estates and rights of the confederates, especially of the Roman see. A large force, amounting in all to thirty-four thousand horse and twenty thousand foot, was to be assessed in stipulated proportions on each of the contracting parties. The secret articles of the treaty, however, went much further, providing a formidable plan of offensive operations. It was agreed in these, that King Ferdinand should employ the Spanish armament, now arrived in Sicily, in re-establishing his kinsman on the throne of Naples; that a Venetian fleet of forty galleys should attack the French positions on the Neapolitan coasts; that the duke of Milan should expel the French from Asti, and blockade the passes of the Alps, so as to intercept the passage of further reinforcements; and that the emperor and the king of Spain should invade the French frontiers, and their expenses be defrayed by subsidies from the allies. [46] Such were the terms of this treaty, which may be regarded as forming an era in modern political history, since it exhibits the first example of those extensive combinations among European princes, for mutual defence, which afterwards became so frequent. It shared the fate of many other coalitions, where the name and authority of the whole have been made subservient to the interests of some one of the parties, more powerful, or more cunning, than the rest.

The intelligence of the new treaty diffused general joy throughout Italy. In Venice, in particular, it was greeted with fetes, illuminations, and the most emphatic public rejoicing, in the very eyes of the French minister, who was compelled to witness this unequivocal testimony of the detestation in which his countrymen were held. [47] The tidings fell heavily on the ears of the French in Naples. It dispelled the dream of idle dissipation in which they were dissolved. They felt little concern, indeed, on the score of their Italian enemies, whom their easy victories taught them to regard with the same insolent contempt, that the paladins of romance are made to feel for the unknightly rabble, myriads of whom they could overturn with a single lance. But they felt serious alarm as they beheld the storm of war gathering from other quarters,—from Spain and Germany, in defiance of the treaties by which they had hoped to secure them. Charles saw the necessity of instant action. Two courses presented themselves: either to strengthen himself in his new conquests, and prepare to maintain them until he could receive fresh reinforcements from home, or to abandon them altogether and retreat across the Alps, before the allies could muster in sufficient strength to oppose him. With the indiscretion characteristic of his whole enterprise, he embraced a middle course, and lost the advantages which would have resulted from the exclusive adoption of either.

* * * * *

The principal light, by which we are to be guided through the remainder of this history, is the Aragonese annalist, Zurita, whose great work, although less known abroad than those of some more recent Castilian writers, sustains a reputation at home, unsurpassed by any other, in the great, substantial qualities of an historian. The notice of his life and writings has been swelled into a bulky quarto by Dr. Diego Dormer, in a work entitled, "Progressos de la Historia en el Reyno de Aragon. Zaragoza, 1680;" from which I extract a few particulars.

Geronimo Zurita, descended from an ancient and noble family, was born at Saragossa, December 4th, 1512. He was matriculated at an early age in the university of Alcala. He there made extraordinary proficiency, under the immediate instruction of the learned Nunez de Guzman, commonly called El Pinciano. He became familiar with the ancient, and a variety of modern tongues, and attracted particular attention by the purity and elegance of his Latinity. His personal merits, and his father's influence, recommended him, soon after quitting the university, to the notice of the emperor Charles V. He was consulted and employed in affairs of public importance, and subsequently raised to several posts of honor, attesting the entire confidence reposed in his integrity and abilities. His most honorable appointment, however, was that of national historiographer.

In 1547, an act passed the cortes general of Aragon, providing for the office of national chronicler, with a fixed salary, whose duty it should be to compile, from authentic sources, a faithful history of the monarchy. The talents and eminent qualifications of Zurita recommended him to this post, and he was raised to it by the unanimous consent of the legislature, in the following year, 1548. From this time he conscientiously devoted himself to the execution of his great task. He visited every part of his own country, as well as Sicily and Italy, for the purpose of collecting materials. The public archives, and every accessible source of information, were freely thrown open to his inspection, by order of the government; and he returned from his literary pilgrimage with a large accumulation of rare and original documents. The first portion of his annals was published at Saragossa, in two volumes folio, 1562. The work was not completed until nearly twenty years later, and the last two volumes were printed under his own eye at Saragossa, in 1580, a few months only before his death. This edition, being one of those used in the present history, is in large folio, fairly executed, with double columns on the page, in the fashion of most of the ancient Spanish historians. The whole work was again published, as before, at the expense of the state, in 1585, by his son, amended and somewhat enlarged, from the manuscripts left by his father. Bouterwek has fallen into the error of supposing, that no edition of Zurita's Annals appeared till after the reign of Philip II., who died in 1592. (Geschichte der Poesie und Beredsamkeit, band iii. p. 319.)

No incidents worthy of note seem to have broken the peaceful tenor of Zurita's life; which he terminated at Saragossa, in the sixty-eighth year of his age, in the monastery of Santa Engracia, to which he had retired during a temporary residence in the city, to superintend the publication of his Annals. His rich collection of books and manuscripts was left to the Carthusian monastery of Aula Dei; but from accident or neglect, the greater part have long since perished. His remains were interred in the convent where he died, and a monument, bearing a modest inscription, was erected over them by his son.

The best monument of Zurita, however, is his Annals. They take up the history of Aragon from its first rise after the Arabic conquest, and continue it to the death of Ferdinand the Catholic. The reign of this prince, as possessing the largest interest and importance, is expanded into two volumes folio; being one-third of the whole work.

The minuteness of Zurita's investigations has laid him open to the charge of prolixity, especially in the earlier and less important periods. It should be remembered, however, that his work was to be the great national repository of facts, interesting to his own countrymen, but which, from difficulty of access to authentic sources, could never before be fully exhibited to their inspection. But, whatever he thought of his redundancy, in this or the subsequent parts of his narrative, it must be admitted that he has uniformly and emphatically directed the attention of the reader to the topics most worthy of it; sparing no pains to illustrate the constitutional antiquities of the country, and to trace the gradual formation of her liberal polity, instead of wasting his strength on mere superficial gossip, like most of the chroniclers of the period.

There is no Spanish historian less swayed by party or religious prejudice, or by the feeling of nationality, which is so apt to overflow in the loyal effusions of the Castilian writers. This laudable temperance, indeed, has brought on him the rebuke of more than one of his patriotic countrymen. There is a sobriety and coolness in his estimate of historical evidence, equally removed from temerity on the one hand, and credulity on the other; in short, his whole manner is that of a man conversant with public business, and free from the closet pedantry which too often characterizes the monkish annalists. The greater part of his life was passed under the reign of Charles V., when the spirit of the nation was not yet broken by arbitrary power, nor debased by the melancholy superstition which settled on it under his successor; an age, in which the memory of ancient liberty had not wholly faded away, and when, if men did not dare express all they thought, they at least thought with a degree of independence which gave a masculine character to their expression. In this, as well as in the liberality of his religious sentiments, he may be compared favorably with his celebrated countryman Mariana, who, educated in the cloister, and at a period when the nation was schooled to maxims of despotism, exhibits few glimpses of the sound criticism and reflection, which are to be found in the writings of his Aragonese rival. The seductions of style, however, the more fastidious selection of incidents, in short, the superior graces of narration, have given a wider fame to the former, whose works have passed into most of the cultivated languages of Europe, while those of Zurita remain, as far as I am aware, still undisturbed in the vernacular.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Zurita, Historia del Rey Don Hernando el Catholico, (Anales, tom. v. vi., Zaragoza, 1580,) lib. 1, Introd.

[2] The "Legazione," or official correspondence of Machiavelli, while stationed at the different European courts, may be regarded as the most complete manual of diplomacy as it existed at the beginning of the sixteenth century. It affords more copious and curious information respecting the interior workings of the governments with whom he resided, than is to be found in any regular history; and it shows the variety and extent of duties attached to the office of resident minister, from the first moment of its creation.

[3] "Sed diu," says Sallust, noticing the similar consequence of increased refinement among the ancients, "magnum inter mortales certamen fuit, vine corporis an virtute animi res militaris magis procederet. ***** Tum demum periculo atque negotiis compertum est, in bello plurimum ingenium posse." Bellum Catilinarium, cap. 1, 2.

[4] Machiavelli's political treatises, his "Principe" and "Discorsi sopra Tito Livio," which appeared after his death, excited no scandal at the time of their publication. They came into the world, indeed, from the pontifical press, under the privilege of the reigning pope, Clement VII. It was not until thirty years later that they were placed on the Index; and this not from any exceptions taken at the immorality of their doctrines, as Ginguene has well proved, (Histoire Litteraire d'Italie, (Paris, 1811-19,) tom. viii. pp. 32, 74,) but from the imputations they contained on the court of Rome.

[5] "Aquel Senado e Senoria de Venecianos," says Gonzalo de Oviedo, "donde me parece a mi que esta recogido todo el saber e prudencia de los hombres humanos; porque es la gente del mundo que mejor se sabe gobernar; e la republica, que mas tiempo ha durado en el mundo por la buena forma de su regimiento, e donde con mejor manera han los hombres vivido en comunidad sin tener Rey;" etc. Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 3, dial. 44.

[6] Of all the incense which poets and politicians have offered to the Queen of the Adriatic, none is more exquisite than that conveyed in these few lines, where Sannazaro notices her position as the bulwark of Christendom.

"Una Italum regina, altae pulcherrima Romae Aemula, quae terris, quae dominaris aquis! Tu tibi vel reges cives facis; O decus! O lux Ausoniae, per quam libera turba sumus; Per quam barbaries nobis non imperat, et Sol Exoriens nostro clarius orbe micat!"

Opera Latina, lib. 3, eleg. 1, 95.

[7] Guicciardini, Istoria, tom. i. lib. 3, p. 147.

[8] Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 119, 123.—Fleury, Histoire Ecclesiastique, contin. (Paris, 1722,) tom. xxiv. lib. 117, p. 545.—Peter Martyr, whose residence and rank at the Spanish court gave him access to the best sources of information as to the repute in which the new pontiff was held there, expresses himself in one of his letters to Cardinal Sforza, who had assisted at his election, in the following unequivocal language. "Sed hoc habeto, princeps illustrissime, non placuisse meis Regibus pontificatum ad Alexandrum, quamvis eorum ditionarium, pervenisse. Verentur namque ne illius cupiditas, ne ambitio, ne (quod gravius) mollities filialis Christianam religionem in praeceps trahat." Epist. 119.

[9] A remarkable example of this occurred in the middle of the fifteenth century, when the inundation of the Turks, which seemed ready to burst upon them, after overwhelming the Arabian and Greek empires, had no power to still the voice of faction, or to concentrate the attention of the Italian states, even for a moment.

[10] Guicciardini, Istoria, tom. i. lib. 1, p. 2.

[11] Brantome, Vies des Hommes Illustres, Oeuvres Completes, (Paris, 1822- 3,) tom. ii. disc. i. pp. 2, 20.

[12] Sismondi, Hist. des Francais, tom. xv. p. 112.—Gaillard, Rivalite, tom. iv. pp. 2, 3.

[13] Daru, Histoire de la Republique de Venise, (Paris, 1821,) tom. iii. liv. 20.—See the deed of cession, in the memoir of M. de Foncemagne. (Memoires de l'Academie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres, tom. xvii. pp. 539-579.) This document, as well as some others which appeared on the eve of Charles's expedition, breathes a tone of Quixotic and religious enthusiasm that transports us back to the days of the crusades.

[14] The conflicting claims of Anjou and Aragon are stated at length by Gaillard, with more candor and impartiality than were to be expected from a French writer. (Histoire de Francois I., (Paris, 1769,) tom. i. pp. 71- 92.) They form the subject of a juvenile essay of Gibbon, in which we may discern the germs of many of the peculiarities which afterwards characterized the historian of the Decline and Fall. Miscellaneous Works, (London, 1814.) vol. iii. pp. 206-222.

[15] Essai sur les Moeurs, chap. 107.—His politic father, Louis XI., acted on this principle, for he made no attempt to maintain his pretensions to Naples; although Mably affects to doubt whether this were not the result of necessity rather than policy. "Il est douteux si cette moderation fut l'ouvrage d'une connoissance approfondie de ses vrais interets, ou seulement de cette defiance qu'il avoit des grands de son royaume, et qu'il n'osoit perdre de vue." Observations sur l'Histoire de France, Oeuvres, (Paris, 1794-5,) liv. 6, chap. 4.

[16] Flassan, Histoire de la Diplomatic Francaise, (Paris, 1809,) tom. i. pp. 254-259.—Dumont, Corps Universel Diplomatique du Droit des Gens, (Amsterdam, 1726-31,) tom. iii. pp. 297-300.

[17] See the narrative of these transactions in the Fifth and Sixth Chapters of 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, Republiques 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 Catolicos, MS., cap. 117.

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

[19] Fleury, Histoire Ecclesiastique, 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, Rivalite, 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." (Memoires, 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, Rivalite, tom. iv. p. 11.—Voltaire, Essai sur les Moeurs, chap. 107.—Comines, Memoires, 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, Memoires, liv. 7, introd.

[24] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 20.—Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 123.—Comines, Memoires, liv. 7, chap. 3.—Mariana, Hist. de Espana, 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, Memoires, apud Petitot, Collection des Memoires, 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, Republiques 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 impensa 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, Memoires, liv. 7, chap. 17.—Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 3, dial. 43.

[31] Du Bos, Histoire de la Ligue faite a Cambray, (Paris, 1728), tom. i. dissert, prelim.—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. prelim.—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 herisson, 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 Espana, tom. ii. lib. 26, cap. 6.—Salazar de Mendoza, Monarquia, 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. Itineraire, 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 Catolicos, 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 Catolicos, as usually done by English writers, by the corresponding term of "Catholic kings."

[40] Carbajal, Anales, MS., ano 1495.

[41] Bernaldez, Reyes Catolicos, MS., cap. 138.—Sismondi, Republiques 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 Catolicos, 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.