CHAPTER IV.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

FOOTNOTES

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[16] Carbajal, Anales, MS., ano 1496.—Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 172.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[23] Carbajal, Anales, MS., ano 1497.—Florez, Reynas Catholicas, tom. ii. pp. 846, 848.—Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, tom. v. fol. 127, 128.—La Clede, Hist. de Portugal, tom. iv. p. 101.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



CHAPTER V.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * * * *

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

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

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

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

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

FOOTNOTES

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

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