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MERCEDES OF CASTILE;
OR,
THE VOYAGE TO CATHAY.
BY J. FENIMORE COOPER.
"I fill this cup to one made up of loveliness alone,
A woman, of her gentle sex the seeming paragon;
To whom the better elements and kindly stars have given
A form so fair, that, like the air, 'tis less of earth than heaven."
PINKNEY.
ILLUSTRATED FROM DRAWINGS BY
F.O.C. Darley.
NEW YORK:
W. A. TOWNSEND AND COMPANY.
1861.
Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1861, by
W. A. TOWNSEND AND COMPANY,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern
District of New York.
G. A. ALVORD, STEREOTYPER & PRINTER, NEW YORK.
List of Illustrations
"Columbus kneeled on the sands, and received the benediction."
"In vain Luis endeavored to persuade the devoted girl to withdraw."
[Illustration]
PREFACE.
So much has been written of late years, touching the discovery of
America, that it would not be at all surprising should there exist a
disposition in a certain class of readers to deny the accuracy of all
the statements in this work. Some may refer to history, with a view to
prove that there never were such persons as our hero and heroine, and
fancy that by establishing these facts, they completely destroy the
authenticity of the whole book. In answer to this anticipated objection,
we will state, that after carefully perusing several of the Spanish
writers--from Cervantes to the translator of the journal of Columbus,
the Alpha and Omega of peninsular literature--and after having read both
Irving and Prescott from beginning to end, we do not find a syllable in
either of them, that we understand to be conclusive evidence, or indeed
to be any evidence at all, on the portions of our subject that are
likely to be disputed. Until some solid affirmative proof, therefore,
can be produced against us, we shall hold our case to be made out, and
rest our claims to be believed on the authority of our own statements.
Nor do we think there is any thing either unreasonable or unusual in
this course, as perhaps the greater portion of that which is daily and
hourly offered to the credence of the American public, rests on the same
species of testimony--with the trifling difference that we state truths,
with a profession of fiction, while the great moral caterers of the age
state fiction with the profession of truth. If any advantage can be
fairly obtained over us, in consequence of this trifling discrepancy, we
must submit.
There is one point, notwithstanding, concerning which it may be well to
be frank at once. The narrative of the "Voyage to Cathay," has been
written with the journal of the Admiral before us; or, rather, with all
of that journal that has been given to the world through the agency of a
very incompetent and meagre editor. Nothing is plainer than the general
fact that this person did not always understand his author, and in one
particular circumstance he has written so obscurely, as not a little to
embarrass even a novelist, whose functions naturally include an entire
familiarity with the thoughts, emotions, characters, and, occasionally,
with the unknown fates of the subjects of his pen. The nautical day
formerly commenced at meridian, and, with all our native ingenuity and
high professional prerogatives, we have not been able to discover
whether the editor of the journal has adopted that mode of counting
time, or whether he has condescended to use the more vulgar and
irrational practice of landsmen. It is our opinion, however, that in the
spirit of impartiality which becomes an historian, he has adopted both.
This little peculiarity might possibly embarrass a superficial critic;
but accurate critics being so very common, we feel no concern on this
head, well knowing that they will be much more apt to wink at these
minor inconsistencies, than to pass over an error of the press, or a
comma with a broken tail. As we wish to live on good terms with this
useful class of our fellow-creatures, we have directed the printers to
mis-spell some eight or ten words for their convenience, and to save
them from headaches, have honestly stated this principal difficulty
ourselves.
Should the publicity which is now given to the consequences of
commencing a day in the middle have the effect to induce the government
to order that it shall, in future, with all American seamen, commence at
one of its ends, something will be gained in the way of simplicity, and
the writing of novels will, in-so-much, be rendered easier and more
agreeable.
As respects the minor characters of this work, very little need be said.
Every one knows that Columbus had seamen in his vessels, and that he
brought some of the natives of the islands he had discovered, back with
him to Spain. The reader is now made much more intimately acquainted
with certain of these individuals, we will venture to say, than he can
be possibly by the perusal of any work previously written. As for the
subordinate incidents connected with the more familiar events of the
age, it is hoped they will be found so completely to fill up this branch
of the subject, as to render future investigations unnecessary.
[Illustration]
MERCEDES OF CASTILE.
[Illustration: "In vain Luis endeavored to persuade the devoted girl to
withdraw."]
CHAPTER I.
"There was knocking that shook the marble floor,
And a voice at the gate, which said--
'That the Cid Ruy Diez, the Campeador,
Was there in his arms array'd.'"----
Mrs. Hemans.
Whether we take the pictures of the inimitable Cervantes, or of that
scarcely less meritorious author from whom Le Sage has borrowed his
immortal tale, for our guides; whether we confide in the graver legends
of history, or put our trust in the accounts of modern travellers, the
time has scarcely ever existed when the inns of Spain were good, or the
roads safe. These are two of the blessings of civilization which the
people of the peninsula would really seem destined never to attain; for,
in all ages, we hear, or have heard, of wrongs done the traveller
equally by the robber and the host. If such are the facts to-day, such
also were the facts in the middle of the fifteenth century, the period
to which we desire to carry back the reader in imagination.
At the commencement of the month of October, in the year of our Lord
1469, John of Trastamara reigned in Aragon, holding his court at a place
called Zaragosa, a town lying on the Ebro, the name of which is supposed
to be a corruption of Caesar Augustus, and a city that has become
celebrated in our own times, under the more Anglicised term of
Saragossa, for its deeds in arms. John of Trastamara, or, as it was more
usual to style him, agreeably to the nomenclature of kings, John II.,
was one of the most sagacious monarchs of his age; but he had become
impoverished by many conflicts with the turbulent, or, as it may be more
courtly to say, the liberty-loving Catalonians; had frequently enough to
do to maintain his seat on the throne; possessed a party-colored empire
that included within its sway, besides his native Aragon with its
dependencies of Valencia and Catalonia, Sicily and the Balearic Islands,
with some very questionable rights in Navarre. By the will of his elder
brother and predecessor, the crown of Naples had descended to an
illegitimate son of the latter, else would that kingdom have been added
to the list. The King of Aragon had seen a long and troubled reign, and,
at this very moment, his treasury was nearly exhausted by his efforts to
subdue the truculent Catalans, though he was nearer a triumph than he
could then foresee, his competitor, the Duke of Lorraine, dying
suddenly, only two short months after the precise period chosen for the
commencement of our tale. But it is denied to man to look into the
future, and on the 9th of the month just mentioned, the ingenuity of the
royal treasurer was most sorely taxed, there having arisen an unexpected
demand for a considerable sum of money, at the very moment that the army
was about to disband itself for the want of pay, and the public coffers
contained only the very moderate sum of three hundred _Enriques_, or
Henrys--a gold coin named after a previous monarch, and which had a
value not far from that of the modern ducat, or our own quarter eagle.
The matter, however, was too pressing to be deferred, and even the
objects of the war were considered as secondary to those connected with
this suddenly-conceived, and more private enterprise. Councils were
held, money-dealers were cajoled or frightened, and the confidants of
the court were very manifestly in a state of great and earnest
excitement. At length, the time of preparation appeared to be passed and
the instant of action arrived. Curiosity was relieved, and the citizens
of Saragossa were permitted to know that their sovereign was about to
send a solemn embassy, on matters of high moment, to his neighbor,
kinsman, and ally, the monarch of Castile. In 1469, Henry, also of
Trastamara, sat upon the throne of the adjoining kingdom, under the
title of Henry IV. He was the grandson, in the male line, of the brother
of John II.'s father, and, consequently, a first-cousin once removed, of
the monarch of Aragon. Notwithstanding this affinity, and the strong
family interests that might be supposed to unite them, it required many
friendly embassies to preserve the peace between the two monarchs; and
the announcement of that which was about to depart, produced more
satisfaction than wonder in the streets of the town.
Henry of Castile, though he reigned over broader and richer peninsular
territories than his relative of Aragon, had his cares and troubles,
also. He had been twice married, having repudiated his first consort,
Blanche of Aragon, to wed Joanna of Portugal, a princess of a levity of
character so marked, as not only to bring great scandal on the court
generally, but to throw so much distrust on the birth of her only child,
a daughter, as to push discontent to disaffection, and eventually to
deprive the infant itself of the rights of royalty. Henry's father, like
himself, had been twice married, and the issue of the second union was a
son and a daughter, Alfonso and Isabella; the latter becoming
subsequently illustrious, under the double titles of the Queen of
Castile, and of the Catholic. The luxurious impotency of Henry, as a
monarch, had driven a portion of his subjects into open rebellion. Three
years preceding that selected for our opening, his brother Alfonso had
been proclaimed king in his stead, and a civil war had raged throughout
his provinces. This war had been recently terminated by the death of
Alfonso, when the peace of the kingdom was temporarily restored by a
treaty, in which Henry consented to the setting aside of his own
daughter--or rather of the daughter of Joanna of Portugal--and to the
recognition of his half-sister Isabella, as the rightful heiress of the
throne. The last concession was the result of dire necessity, and, as
might have been expected, it led to many secret and violent measures,
with a view to defeat its objects. Among the other expedients adopted by
the king--or, it might be better to say, by his favorites, the inaction
and indolence of the self-indulgent but kind-hearted prince being
proverbial--with a view to counteract the probable consequences of the
expected accession of Isabella, were various schemes to control her
will, and guide her policy, by giving her hand, first to a subject, with
a view to reduce her power, and subsequently to various foreign princes,
who were thought to be more or less suited to the furtherance of such
schemes. Just at this moment, indeed, the marriage of the princess was
one of the greatest objects of Spanish prudence. The son of the King of
Aragon was one of the suitors for the hand of Isabella, and most of
those who heard of the intended departure of the embassy, naturally
enough believed that the mission had some connection with that great
stroke of Aragonese policy.
Isabella had the reputation of learning, modesty, discretion, piety, and
beauty, besides being the acknowledged heiress of so enviable a crown;
and there were many competitors for her hand. Among them were to be
ranked French, English, and Portuguese princes, besides him of Aragon to
whom we have already alluded. Different favorites supported different
pretenders, struggling to effect their several purposes by the usual
intrigues of courtiers and partisans; while the royal maiden, herself,
who was the object of so much competition and rivalry, observed a
discreet and womanly decorum, even while firmly bent on indulging her
most womanly and dearest sentiments. Her brother, the king, was in the
south, pursuing his pleasures, and, long accustomed to dwell in
comparative solitude, the princess was earnestly occupied in arranging
her own affairs, in a way that she believed would most conduce to her
own happiness. After several attempts to entrap her person, from which
she had only escaped by the prompt succor of the forces of her friends,
she had taken refuge in Leon, in the capital of which province, or
kingdom as it was sometimes called, Valladolid, she temporarily took up
her abode. As Henry, however, still remained in the vicinity of Granada,
it is in that direction we must look for the route taken by the embassy.
The cortege left Saragossa, by one of the southern gates, early in the
morning of a glorious autumnal day. There was the usual escort of
lances, for this the troubled state of the country demanded; bearded
nobles well mailed--for few, who offered an inducement to the plunderer,
ventured on the highway without this precaution; a long train of sumpter
mules, and a host of those who, by their guise, were half menials and
half soldiers. The gallant display drew crowds after the horses' heels,
and, together with some prayers for success, a vast deal of crude and
shallow conjecture, as is still the practice with the uninstructed and
gossiping, was lavished on the probable objects and results of the
journey. But curiosity has its limits, and even the gossip occasionally
grows weary; and by the time the sun was setting, most of the multitude
had already forgotten to think and speak of the parade of the morning.
As the night drew on, however, the late pageant was still the subject of
discourse between two soldiers, who belonged to the guard of the western
gate, or that which opened on the road to the province of Burgos. These
worthies were loitering away the hours, in the listless manner common to
men on watch, and the spirit of discussion and of critical censure had
survived the thoughts and bustle of the day.
"If Don Alonso de Carbajal thinketh to ride far in that guise," observed
the elder of the two idlers, "he would do well to look sharp to his
followers, for the army of Aragon never sent forth a more
scurvily-appointed guard than that he hath this day led through the
southern gate, notwithstanding the glitter of housings, and the clangor
of trumpets. We could have furnished lances from Valencia more befitting
a king's embassy, I tell thee, Diego; ay, and worthier knights to lead
them, than these of Aragon. But if the king is content, it ill becomes
soldiers, like thee and me, to be dissatisfied."
"There are many who think, Roderique, that it had been better to spare
the money lavished in this courtly letter-writing, to pay the brave men
who so freely shed their blood in order to subdue the rebellious
Barcelans."
"This is always the way, boy, between debtor and creditor. Don John owes
you a few maravedis, and you grudge him every Enrique he spends on his
necessities. I am an older soldier, and have learned the art of paying
myself, when the treasury is too poor to save me the trouble."
"That might do in a foreign war, when one is battling against the Moor,
for instance; but, after all, these Catalans are as good Christians as
we are ourselves; some of them are as good subjects; and it is not as
easy to plunder a countryman as to plunder an Infidel."
"Easier by twenty fold; for the one expects it, and, like all in that
unhappy condition, seldom has any thing worth taking, while the other
opens his stores to you as freely as he does his heart--but who are
these, setting forth on the highway, at this late hour?"
"Fellows that pretend to wealth, by affecting to conceal it. I'll
warrant you, now, Roderique, that there is not money enough among all
those varlets to pay the laquais that shall serve them their boiled
eggs, to-night."
"By St. Iago, my blessed patron!" whispered one of the leaders of a
small cavalcade, who, with a single companion, rode a little in advance
of the others, as if not particularly anxious to be too familiar with
the rest, and laughing, lightly, as he spoke: "Yonder vagabond is nearer
the truth than is comfortable! We may have sufficient among us all to
pay for an olla-podrida and its service, but I much doubt whether there
will be a dobla left, when the journey shall be once ended."
A low, but grave rebuke, checked this inconsiderate mirth; and the
party, which consisted of merchants, or traders, mounted on mules, as
was evident by their appearance, for in that age the different classes
were easily recognized by their attire, halted at the gate. The
permission to quit the town was regular, and the drowsy and consequently
surly gate-keeper slowly undid his bars, in order that the travellers
might pass.
While these necessary movements were going on, the two soldiers stood a
little on one side, coolly scanning the group, though Spanish gravity
prevented them from indulging openly in an expression of the scorn that
they actually felt for two or three Jews who were among the traders. The
merchants, moreover, were of a better class, as was evident by a
follower or two, who rode in their train, in the garbs of menials, and
who kept at a respectful distance while their masters paid the light fee
that it was customary to give on passing the gates after nightfall. One
of these menials, capitally mounted on a tall, spirited mule, happened
to place himself so near Diego, during this little ceremony, that the
latter, who was talkative by nature, could not refrain from having his
say.
"Prithee, Pepe," commenced the soldier, "how many hundred doblas a year
do they pay, in that service of thine, and how often do they renew that
fine leathern doublet?"
The varlet, or follower of the merchant, who was still a youth, though
his vigorous frame and embrowned cheek denoted equally severe exercise
and rude exposure, started and reddened at this free inquiry, which was
enforced by a hand slapped familiarly on his knee, and such a squeeze of
the leg as denoted the freedom of the camp. The laugh of Diego probably
suppressed a sudden outbreak of anger, for the soldier was one whose
manner indicated too much good-humor easily to excite resentment.
"Thy gripe is friendly, but somewhat close, comrade," the young domestic
mildly observed; "and if thou wilt take a friend's counsel, it will be,
never to indulge in too great familiarity, lest some day it lead to a
broken pate."
"By holy San Pedro!--I should relish--"
It was too late, however; for his master having proceeded, the youth
pushed a powerful rowel into the flank of his mule, and the vigorous
animal dashed ahead, nearly upsetting Diego, who was pressing hard on
the pommel of the saddle, by the movement.
"There is mettle in that boy," exclaimed the good-natured soldier, as he
recovered his feet. "I thought, for one moment, he was about to favor me
with a visitation of his hand."
"Thou art wrong--and too much accustomed to be heedless, Diego,"
answered his comrade; "and it had been no wonder had that youth struck
thee to the earth, for the indignity thou putt'st upon him."
"Ha! a hireling follower of some cringing Hebrew! He dare to strike a
blow at a soldier of the king!"
"He may have been a soldier of the king himself, in his day. These are
times when most of his frame and muscle are called on to go in harness.
I think I have seen that face before; ay, and that, too, where none of
craven hearts would be apt to go."
"The fellow is a mere varlet, and a younker that has just escaped from
the hands of the women."
"I'll answer for it, that he hath faced both the Catalan and the Moor in
his time, young as he may seem. Thou knowest that the nobles are wont to
carry their sons, as children, early into the fight, that they may learn
the deeds of chivalry betimes."
"The nobles!" repeated Diego, laughing. "In the name of all the devils,
Roderique, of what art thou thinking, that thou likenest this knave to a
young noble? Dost fancy him a Guzman, or a Mendoza, in disguise, that
thou speakest thus of chivalry?"
"True--it doth, indeed, seem silly--and yet have I before met that frown
in battle, and heard that sharp, quick voice, in a rally. By St. Iago de
Compostello! I have it! Harkee, Diego!--a word in thy ear."
The veteran now led his more youthful comrade aside, although there was
no one near to listen to what he said; and looking carefully round, to
make certain that his words would not be overheard, he whispered, for a
moment, in Diego's ear.
"Holy Mother of God!" exclaimed the latter, recoiling quite three paces,
in surprise and awe. "Thou canst not be right, Roderique!"
"I will place my soul's welfare on it," returned the other, positively.
"Have I not often seen him with his visor up, and followed him, time and
again, to the charge?"
"And he setting forth as a trader's varlet! Nay, I know not, but as the
servitor of a Jew!"
"Our business, Diego, is to strike without looking into the quarrel; to
look without seeing, and to listen without hearing. Although his coffers
are low, Don John is a good master, and our anointed king; and so we
will prove ourselves discreet soldiers."
"But he will never forgive me that gripe of the knee, and my foolish
tongue. I shall never dare meet him again."
"Humph!--It is not probable thou ever wilt meet him at the table of the
king, and, as for the field, as he is wont to go first, there will not
be much temptation for him to turn back in order to look at thee."
"Thou thinkest, then, he will not be apt to know me again?"
"If it should prove so, boy, thou need'st not take it in ill part; as
such as he have more demands on their memories than they can always
meet."
"The Blessed Maria make thee a true prophet!--else would I never dare
again to appear in the ranks. Were it a favor I conferred, I might hope
it would be forgotten; but an indignity sticks long in the memory."
Here the two soldiers moved away, continuing the discourse from time to
time, although the elder frequently admonished his loquacious companion
of the virtue of discretion.
In the mean time, the travellers pursued their way, with a diligence
that denoted great distrust of the roads, and as great a desire to get
on. They journeyed throughout the night, nor did there occur any
relaxation in their speed, until the return of the sun exposed them
again to the observations of the curious, among whom were thought to be
many emissaries of Henry of Castile, whose agents were known to be
particularly on the alert, along all the roads that communicated between
the capital of Aragon and Valladolid, the city in which his royal sister
had then, quite recently, taken refuge. Nothing remarkable occurred,
however, to distinguish this journey from any other of the period. There
was nothing about the appearance of the travellers--who soon entered the
territory of Soria, a province of Old Castile, where armed parties of
the monarch were active in watching the passes--to attract the attention
of Henry's soldiers; and as for the more vulgar robber, he was
temporarily driven from the highways by the presence of those who acted
in the name of the prince. As respects the youth who had given rise to
the discourse between the two soldiers, he rode diligently in the rear
of his master, so long as it pleased the latter to remain in the saddle;
and during the few and brief pauses that occurred in the travelling, he
busied himself, like the other menials, in the duties of his proper
vocation. On the evening of the second day, however, about an hour after
the party had left a hostelry, where it had solaced itself with an
olla-podrida and some sour wine, the merry young man who has already
been mentioned, and who still kept his place by the side of his graver
and more aged companion in the van, suddenly burst into a fit of loud
laughter, and, reining in his mule he allowed the whole train to pass
him, until he found himself by the side of the young menial already so
particularly named. The latter cast a severe and rebuking glance at his
reputed master, as he dropped in by his side, and said, with a sternness
that ill comported with their apparent relations to each other--
"How now, Master Nunez! what hath called thee from thy position in the
van, to this unseemly familiarity with the varlets in the rear?"
"I crave ten thousand pardons, honest Juan," returned the master, still
laughing, though he evidently struggled to repress his mirth, out of
respect to the other; "but here is a calamity befallen us, that outdoes
those of the fables and legends of necromancy and knight-errantry. The
worthy Master Ferreras, yonder, who is so skilful in handling gold,
having passed his whole life in buying and selling barley and oats, hath
actually mislaid the purse, which it would seem he hath forgotten at the
inn we have quitted, in payment of some very stale bread and rancid oil.
I doubt if there are twenty reals left in the whole party!"
"And is it a matter of jest, Master Nunez," returned the servant, though
a slight smile struggled about his mouth, as if ready to join in his
companion's merriment; "that we are penniless? Thank Heaven! the Burgo
of Osma cannot be very distant; and we may have less occasion for gold.
And now, master of mine, let me command thee to keep thy proper place in
this cavalcade, and not to forget thyself by such undue familiarity with
thy inferiors. I have no farther need of thee, and therefore hasten back
to Master Ferreras and acquaint him with my sympathy and grief."
The young man smiled, though the eye of the pretended servant was
averted, as if he cared to respect his own admonitions; while the other
evidently sought a look of recognition and favor. In another minute, the
usual order of the journey was resumed.
As the night advanced, and the hour arrived when man and beast usually
betray fatigue, these travellers pushed their mules the hardest; and
about midnight, by dint of hard pricking, they came under the principal
gate of a small walled town, called Osma, that stood not far from the
boundary of the province of Burgos, though still in that of Soria. No
sooner was his mule near enough to the gate to allow of the freedom,
than the young merchant in advance dealt sundry blows on it with his
staff, effectually apprising those within of his presence. It required
no strong pull of the reins to stop the mules of those behind; but the
pretended varlet now pushed ahead, and was about to assume his place
among the principal personages near the gate, when a heavy stone, hurled
from the battlements, passed so close to his head, as vividly to remind
him how near he might be to making a hasty journey to another world. A
cry arose in the whole party, at this narrow escape; nor were loud
imprecations on the hand that had cast the missile spared. The youth,
himself, seemed the least disturbed of them all; and though his voice
was sharp and authoritative, as he raised it in remonstrance, it was
neither angry nor alarmed.
"How now!" he said; "is this the way you treat peaceful travellers;
merchants, who come to ask hospitality and a night's repose at your
hands?"
"Merchants and travellers!" growled a voice from above--"say, rather,
spies and agents of King Henry. Who are ye? Speak promptly, or ye may
expect something sharper than stones, at the next visit."
"Tell me," answered the youth, as if disdaining to be questioned
himself--"who holds this borough? Is it not the noble Count of Trevino?"
"The very same, Senor," answered he above, with a mollified tone: "but
what can a set of travelling traders know of His Excellency? and who art
thou, that speakest up as sharply and as proudly as if thou wert a
grandee?"
"I am Ferdinand of Trastamara--the Prince of Aragon--the King of Sicily.
Go! bid thy master hasten to the gate."
This sudden announcement, which was made in the lofty manner of one
accustomed to implicit obedience, produced a marked change in the state
of affairs. The party at the gate so far altered their several
positions, that the two superior nobles who had ridden in front, gave
place to the youthful king; while the group of knights made such
arrangements as showed that disguise was dropped, and each man was now
expected to appear in his proper character. It might have amused a close
and philosophical observer to note the promptitude with which the young
cavaliers, in particular, rose in their saddles, as if casting aside the
lounging mien of grovelling traders, in order to appear what they really
were, men accustomed to the tourney and the field. On the ramparts the
change was equally sudden and great. All appearance of drowsiness
vanished; the soldiers spoke to each other in suppressed but hurried
voices; and the distant tramp of feet announced that messengers were
dispatched in various directions. Some ten minutes elapsed in this
manner, during which an inferior officer showed himself on the ramparts,
and apologized for a delay that arose altogether from the force of
discipline, and on no account from any want of respect. At length a
bustle on the wall, with the light of many lanterns, betrayed the
approach of the governor of the town; and the impatience of the young
men below, that had begun to manifest itself in half-uttered
execrations, was put under a more decent restraint for the occasion.
"Are the joyful tidings that my people bring me true?" cried one from
the battlements; while a lantern was lowered from the wall, as if to
make a closer inspection of the party at the gate: "Am I really so
honored, as to receive a summons from Don Ferdinand of Aragon, at this
unusual hour?"
"Cause thy fellow to turn his lantern more closely on my countenance,"
answered the king, "that thou may'st make thyself sure. I will
cheerfully overlook the disrespect, Count of Trevino, for the advantage
of a more speedy admission."
"'Tis he!" exclaimed the noble: "I know those royal features, which bear
the lineaments of a long race of kings, and that voice have I heard,
often, rallying the squadrons of Aragon, in their onsets against the
Moor. Let the trumpets speak up, and proclaim this happy arrival; and
open wide our gates, without delay."
This order was promptly obeyed, and the youthful king entered Osma, by
sound of trumpet, encircled by a strong party of men-at-arms, and with
half of the awakened and astonished population at his heels.
"It is lucky, my Lord King," said Don Andres de Cabrera, the young noble
already mentioned, as he rode familiarly at the side of Don Ferdinand,
"that we have found these good lodgings without cost; it being a
melancholy truth, that Master Ferreras hath, negligently enough, mislaid
the only purse there was among us. In such a strait, it would not have
been easy to keep up the character of thrifty traders much longer; for,
while the knaves higgle at the price of every thing, they are fond of
letting their gold be seen."
"Now that we are in thine own Castile, Don Andres," returned the king,
smiling, "we shall throw ourselves gladly on thy hospitality, well
knowing that thou hast two most beautiful diamonds always at thy
command."
"I, Sir King! Your Highness is pleased to be merry at my expense,
although I believe it is, just now, the only gratification I can pay
for. My attachment for the Princess Isabella hath driven me from my
lands; and even the humblest cavalier in the Aragonese army is not, just
now, poorer than I. What diamonds, therefore, can I command?"
"Report speaketh favorably of the two brilliants that are set in the
face of the Dona Beatriz de Bobadilla; and I hear they are altogether at
thy disposal, or as much so as a noble maiden's inclinations can leave
them with a loyal knight."
"Ah! my Lord King! if indeed this adventure end as happily as it
commenceth, I may, indeed, look to your royal favor, for some aid in
that matter."
The king smiled, in his own sedate manner; but the Count de Trevino
pressing nearer to his side at that moment, the discourse was changed.
That night Ferdinand of Aragon slept soundly; but with the dawn, he and
his followers were again in the saddle. The party quitted Osma, however,
in a manner very different from that in which it had approached its
gate. Ferdinand now appeared as a knight, mounted on a noble Andalusian
charger; and all his followers had still more openly assumed their
proper characters. A strong body of lancers, led by the Count of Trevino
in person, composed the escort; and on the 9th of the month, the whole
cavalcade reached Duenas, in Leon, a place quite near to Valladolid. The
disaffected nobles crowded about the prince to pay their court, and he
was received as became his high rank and still higher destinies.
Here the more luxurious Castilians had an opportunity of observing the
severe personal discipline by which Don Ferdinand, at the immature years
of eighteen, for he was scarcely older, had succeeded in hardening his
body and in stringing his nerves, so as to be equal to any deeds in
arms. His delight was found in the rudest military exercises; and no
knight of Aragon could better direct his steed in the tourney or in the
field. Like most of the royal races of that period, and indeed of this,
in despite of the burning sun under which he dwelt, his native
complexion was brilliant, though it had already become embrowned by
exposure in the chase, and in the martial occupations of his boyhood.
Temperate as a Mussulman, his active and well-proportioned frame seemed
to be early indurating, as if Providence held him in reserve for some of
its own dispensations, that called for great bodily vigor as well as for
deep forethought and a vigilant sagacity. During the four or five days
that followed, the noble Castilians who listened to his discourse, knew
not of which most to approve, his fluent eloquence, or a wariness of
thought and expression, which, while they might have been deemed
prematurely worldly and cold-blooded, were believed to be particular
merits in one destined to control the jarring passions, deep deceptions,
and selfish devices of men.