"Nice customs curt'sy to great kings. Dear Kate, you and I
cannot be confined within the weak list of a country's fashion.
We are the makers of manners; and the liberty that follows our
places, stops the mouths of all fault-finders."--Henry V.
Notwithstanding her high resolution, habitual firmness, and a serenity
of mind, that seemed to pervade the moral system of Isabella, like a
deep, quiet current of enthusiasm, but which it were truer to assign to
the high and fixed principles that guided all her actions, her heart
beat tumultuously, and her native reserve, which almost amounted to
shyness, troubled her sorely, as the hour arrived when she was first to
behold the prince she had accepted for a husband. Castilian etiquette,
no less than the magnitude of the political interests involved in the
intended union, had drawn out the preliminary negotiations several days;
the bridegroom being left, all that time, to curb his impatience to
behold the princess, as best he might.
On the evening of the 15th of October, 1469, however, every obstacle
being at length removed, Don Fernando threw himself into the saddle,
and, accompanied by only four attendants, among whom was Andres de
Cabrera, he quietly took his way, without any of the usual
accompaniments of his high rank, toward the palace of John of Vivero, in
the city of Valladolid. The Archbishop of Toledo was of the faction of
the princess, and this prelate, a warlike and active partisan, was in
readiness to receive the accepted suitor, and to conduct him to the
presence of his mistress.
Isabella, attended only by Beatriz de Bobadilla, was in waiting for the
interview, in the apartment already mentioned; and by one of those
mighty efforts that even the most retiring of the sex can make, on great
occasions, she received her future husband with quite as much of the
dignity of a princess as of the timidity of a woman. Ferdinand of Aragon
had been prepared to meet one of singular grace and beauty; but the
mixture of angelic modesty with a loveliness that almost surpassed that
of her sex, produced a picture approaching so much nearer to heaven than
to earth, that, though one of circumspect behavior, and much accustomed
to suppress emotion, he actually started, and his feet were momentarily
riveted to the floor, when the glorious vision first met his eye. Then,
recovering himself, he advanced eagerly, and taking the little hand
which neither met nor repulsed the attempt, he pressed it to his lips
with a warmth that seldom accompanies the first interviews of those
whose passions are usually so factitious.
"This happy moment hath at length arrived, my illustrious and beautiful
cousin!" he said, with a truth of feeling that went directly to the pure
and tender heart of Isabella; for no skill in courtly phrases can ever
give to the accents of deceit, the point and emphasis that belong to
sincerity. "I have thought it would never arrive; but this blessed
moment--thanks to our own St. Iago, whom I have not ceased to implore
with intercessions--more than rewards me for all anxieties."
"I thank my Lord the Prince, and bid him right welcome," modestly
returned Isabella. "The difficulties that have been overcome, in order
to effect this meeting, are but types of the difficulties we shall have
to conquer as we advance through life."
Then followed a few courteous expressions concerning the hopes of the
princess that her cousin had wanted for nothing, since his arrival in
Castile, with suitable answers; when Don Ferdinand led her to an
armed-chair, assuming himself the stool on which Beatriz de Bobadilla
was wont to be seated, in her familiar intercourse with her royal
mistress. Isabella, however, sensitively alive to the pretensions of the
Castilians, who were fond of asserting the superiority of their own
country over that of Aragon, would not quietly submit to this
arrangement, but declined to be seated, unless her suitor would take the
chair prepared for him also, saying--
"It ill befitteth one who hath little more than some royalty of blood,
and her dependence on God, to be thus placed, while the King of Sicily
is so unworthily bestowed."
"Let me entreat that it may be so," returned the king. "All
considerations of earthly rank vanish in this presence; view me as a
knight, ready and desirous of proving his fealty in any court or field
of Christendom, and treat me as such."
Isabella, who had that high tact which teaches the precise point where
breeding becomes neuter and airs commence, blushed and smiled, but no
longer declined to be seated. It was not so much the mere words of her
cousin that went to her heart, as the undisguised admiration of his
looks, the animation of his eye, and the frank sincerity of his manner.
With a woman's instinct she perceived that the impression she had made
was favorable, and, with a woman's sensibility, her heart was ready,
under the circumstances, to dissolve in tenderness at the discovery.
This mutual satisfaction soon opened the way to a freer conversation;
and, ere half an hour was passed, the archbishop--who, though officially
ignorant of the language and wishes of lovers, was practically
sufficiently familiar with both--contrived to draw the two or three
courtiers who were present, into an adjoining room, where, though the
door continued open, he placed them with so much discretion that neither
eye nor ear could be any restraint on what was passing. As for Beatriz
de Bobadilla, whom female etiquette required should remain in the same
room with her royal mistress, she was so much engaged with Andres de
Cabrera, that half a dozen thrones might have been disposed of between
the royal pair, and she none the wiser.
Although Isabella did not lose that mild reserve and feminine modesty
that threw so winning a grace around her person, even to the day of her
death, she gradually grew more calm as the discourse proceeded; and,
falling back on her self-respect, womanly dignity, and, not a little, on
those stores of knowledge that she had been diligently collecting, while
others similarly situated had wasted their time in the vanities of
courts, she was quickly at her ease, if not wholly in that tranquil
state of mind to which she had been accustomed.
"I trust there can now be no longer any delay to the celebration of our
union by holy church," observed the king, in continuation of the
subject. "All that can be required of us both, as those entrusted with
the cares and interests of realms, hath been observed, and I may have a
claim to look to my own happiness. We are not strangers to each other,
Dona Isabella; for our grandfathers were brothers, and from infancy up,
have I been taught to reverence thy virtues, and to strive to emulate
thy holy duty to God."
"I have not betrothed myself lightly, Don Fernando," returned the
princess, blushing, even while she assumed the majesty of a queen; "and
with the subject so fully discussed, the wisdom of the union so fully
established, and the necessity of promptness so apparent, no idle delays
shall proceed from me. I had thought that the ceremony might be had on
the fourth day from this, which will give us both time to prepare for an
occasion so solemn, by suitable attention to the offices of the church."
"It must be as thou wiliest," said the king, respectfully bowing; "and
now there remaineth but a few preparations, and we shall have no
reproaches of forgetfulness. Thou knowest, Dona Isabella, how sorely my
father is beset by his enemies, and I need scarce tell thee that his
coffers are empty. In good sooth, my fair cousin, nothing but my earnest
desire to possess myself, at as early a day as possible, of the precious
boon that Providence and thy goodness"--
"Mingle not, Don Fernando, any of the acts of God and his providence,
with the wisdom and petty expedients of his creatures," said Isabella,
earnestly.
"To seize upon the precious boon, then, that Providence appeared willing
to bestow," rejoined the king, crossing himself, while he bowed his
head, as much, perhaps, in deference to the pious feelings of his
affianced wife, as in deference to a higher Power--"would not admit of
delay, and we quitted Zaragosa better provided with hearts loyal toward
the treasures we were to find in Valladolid, than with gold. Even that
we had, by a mischance, hath gone to enrich some lucky varlet in an
inn."
"Dona Beatriz de Bobadilla hath acquainted me with the mishap," said
Isabella, smiling; "and truly we shall commence our married lives with
but few of the goods of the world in present possession. I have little
more to offer thee, Fernando, than a true heart, and a spirit that I
think may be trusted for its fidelity."
"In obtaining thee, my excellent cousin, I obtain sufficient to satisfy
the desires of any reasonable man. Still, something is due to our rank
and future prospects, and it shall not be said that thy nuptials passed
like those of a common subject."
"Under ordinary circumstances it might not appear seemly for one of my
sex to furnish the means for her own bridal," answered the princess, the
blood stealing to her face until it crimsoned even her brow and temples;
maintaining, otherwise, that beautiful tranquillity of mien which marked
her ordinary manner--"but the well-being of two states depending on our
union, vain emotions must be suppressed. I am not without jewels, and
Valladolid hath many Hebrews: thou wilt permit me to part with the
baubles for such an object."
"So that thou preservest for me the jewel in which that pure mind is
encased," said the King of Sicily, gallantly, "I care not if I never see
another. But there will not be this need; for our friends, who have more
generous souls than well-filled coffers too, can give such warranty to
the lenders as will procure the means. I charge myself with this duty,
for henceforth, my cousin--may I not say my betrothed!"--
"The term is even dearer than any that belongeth to blood, Fernando,"
answered the princess, with a simple sincerity of manner that set at
nought the ordinary affectations and artificial feelings of her sex,
while it left the deepest reverence for her modesty--"and we might be
excused for using it. I trust God will bless our union, not only to our
own happiness, but to that of our people."
"Then, my betrothed, henceforth we have but a common fortune, and thou
wilt trust in me for the provision for thy wants."
"Nay, Fernando," answered Isabella, smiling, "imagine what we will, we
cannot imagine ourselves the children of two hidalgos about to set forth
in the world with humble dowries. Thou art a king, even now; and by the
treaty of Toros de Guisando, I am solemnly recognized as the heiress of
Castile. We must, therefore, have our separate means, as well as our
separate duties, though I trust hardly our separate interests."
"Thou wilt never find me failing in that respect which is due to thy
rank, or in that duty which it befitteth me to render thee, as the head
of our ancient House, next to thy royal brother, the king."
"Thou hast well considered, Don Fernando, the treaty of marriage, and
accepted cheerfully, I trust, all of its several conditions?"
"As becometh the importance of the measures, and the magnitude of the
benefit I was to receive."
"I would have them acceptable to thee, as well as expedient; for, though
so soon to become thy wife, I can never cease to remember that I shall
be Queen of this country."
"Thou mayest be assured, my beautiful betrothed, that Ferdinand of
Aragon will be the last to deem thee aught else."
"I look on my duties as coming from God, and on myself as one rigidly
accountable to him for their faithful discharge. Sceptres may not be
treated as toys, Fernando, to be trifled with; for man beareth no
heavier burden, than when he beareth a crown."
"The maxims of our House have not been forgotten in Aragon, my
betrothed--and I rejoice to find that they are the same in both
kingdoms."
"We are not to think principally of ourselves in entering upon this
engagement," continued Isabella, earnestly--"for that would be
supplanting the duties of princes by the feelings of the lover. Thou
hast frequently perused, and sufficiently conned the marriage articles,
I trust?"
"There hath been sufficient leisure for that, my cousin, as they have
now been signed these nine months."
"If I may have seemed to thee exacting in some particulars," continued
Isabella, with the same earnest and beautiful simplicity as usually
marked her deportment in all the relations of life--"it is because the
duties of a sovereign may not be overlooked. Thou knowest, moreover,
Fernando, the influence that the husband is wont to acquire over the
wife, and wilt feel the necessity of my protecting my Castilians, in the
fullest manner, against my own weaknesses."
"If thy Castilians do not suffer until they suffer from that cause, Dona
Isabella, their lot will indeed be blessed."
"These are words of gallantry, and I must reprove their use on an
occasion so serious, Fernando. I am a few months thy senior, and shall
assume an elder sister's rights, until they are lost in the obligations
of a wife. Thou hast seen in those articles, how anxiously I would
protect my Castilians against any supremacy of the stranger. Thou
knowest that many of the greatest of this realm are opposed to our
union, through apprehension of Aragonese sway, and wilt observe how
studiously we have striven to appease their jealousies."
"Thy motives, Dona Isabella, have been understood, and thy wishes in
this and all other particulars shall be respected."
"I would be thy faithful and submissive wife," returned the princess,
with an earnest but gentle look at her betrothed; "but I would also that
Castile should preserve her rights and her independence. What will be
thy influence, the maiden that freely bestoweth her hand, need hardly
say; but we must preserve the appearance of separate states."
"Confide in me, my cousin. They who live fifty years hence will say that
Don Fernando knew how to respect his obligations and to discharge his
duty."
"There is the stipulation, too, to war upon the Moor. I shall never feel
that the Christians of Spain have been true to the faith, while the
follower of the arch-imposter of Mecca remaineth in the peninsula."
"Thou and thy archbishop could not have imposed a more agreeable duty,
than to place my lance in rest against the infidels. My spurs have been
gained in those wars, already; and no sooner shall we be crowned, than
thou wilt see my perfect willingness to aid in driving back the
miscreants to their original sands."
"There remaineth but one thing more upon my mind, gentle cousin. Thou
knowest the evil influence that besets my brother, and that it hath
disaffected a large portion of his nobles as well as of his cities. We
shall both be sorely tempted to wage war upon him, and to assume the
sceptre before it pleaseth God to accord it to us, in the course of
nature. I would have thee respect Don Enriquez, not only as the head of
our royal house, but as my brother and anointed master. Should evil
counsellors press him to attempt aught against our persons or rights, it
will be lawful to resist; but I pray thee, Fernando, on no excuse seek
to raise thy hand in rebellion against my rightful sovereign."
"Let Don Enriquez, then, be chary of his Beltraneja!" answered the
prince with warmth. "By St. Peter! I have rights of mine own that come
before those of that ill-gotten mongrel! The whole House of Trastamara
hath an interest in stifling that spurious scion which hath been so
fraudulently engrafted on its princely stock!"
"Thou art warm, Don Fernando, and even the eye of Beatriz de Bobadilla
reproveth thy heat. The unfortunate Joanna never can impair our rights
to the throne, for there are few nobles in Castile so unworthy as to
wish to see the crown bestowed where it is believed the blood of Pelayo
doth not flow."
"Don Enriquez hath not kept faith with thee, Isabella, since the treaty
of Toros de Guisando!"
"My brother is surrounded by wicked counsellors--and then,
Fernando,"--the princess blushed crimson as she spoke--"neither have we
been able rigidly to adhere to that convention, since one of its
conditions was that my hand should not be bestowed without the consent
of the king."
"He hath driven us into this measure, and hath only to reproach himself
with our failure on this point."
"I endeavor so to view it, though many have been my prayers for
forgiveness of this seeming breach of faith. I am not superstitious,
Fernando, else might I think God would frown on a union that is
contracted in the face of pledges like these. But, it is well to
distinguish between motives, and we have a right to believe that He who
readeth the heart, will not judge the well-intentioned severely. Had not
Don Enriquez attempted to seize my person, with the plain purpose of
forcing me to a marriage against my will, this decisive step could not
have been necessary, and would not have been taken."
"I have reason to thank my patron saint, beautiful cousin, that thy will
was less compliant than thy tyrants had believed."
"I could not plight my troth to the King of Portugal, or to Monsieur de
Guienne, or to any that they proposed to me, for my future lord,"
answered Isabella, ingenuously. "It ill befitted royal or noble maidens
to set up their own inexperienced caprices in opposition to the wisdom
of their friends, and the task is not difficult for a virtuous wife to
learn to love her husband, when nature and opinion are not too openly
violated in the choice; but I have had too much thought for my soul to
wish to expose it to so severe a trial, in contracting the marriage
duties."
"I feel that I am only too unworthy of thee, Isabella--but thou must
train me to be that thou wouldst wish; I can only promise thee a most
willing and attentive scholar."
The discourse now became more general, Isabella indulging her natural
curiosity and affectionate nature, by making many inquiries concerning
her different relatives in Aragon. After the interview had lasted two
hours or more, the King of Sicily returned to Duenas, with the same
privacy as he had observed in entering the town. The royal pair parted
with feelings of increased esteem and respect, Isabella indulging in
those gentle anticipations of domestic happiness that more properly
belong to the tender nature of woman.
The marriage took place, with suitable pomp, on the morning of the 19th
October, 1469, in the chapel of John de Vivero's palace; no less than
two thousand persons, principally of condition, witnessing the ceremony.
Just as the officiating priest was about to commence the offices, the
eye of Isabella betrayed uneasiness, and turning to the Archbishop of
Toledo, she said--
"Your grace hath promised that there should be nothing wanting to the
consent of the church on this solemn occasion. It is known that Don
Fernando of Aragon and I stand within the prohibited degrees."
"Most true, my Lady Isabella," returned the prelate, with a composed
mien and a paternal smile. "Happily, our Holy Father Pius hath removed
this impediment, and the church smileth on this blessed union in every
particular."
The archbishop then took out of his pocket a dispensation, which he
read, in a clear, sonorous, steady voice; when every shade disappeared
from the serene brow of Isabella, and the ceremony proceeded. Years
elapsed before this pious and submissive Christian princess discovered
that she had been imposed on, the bull that was then read having been an
invention of the old King of Aragon and the prelate, not without
suspicions of a connivance on the part of the bridegroom. This deception
had been practised from a perfect conviction that the sovereign pontiff
was too much under the influence of the King of Castile, to consent to
bestow the boon in opposition to that monarch's wishes. It was several
years before Sixtus IV. repaired this wrong, by granting a more genuine
authority.
Nevertheless, Ferdinand and Isabella became man and wife. What followed
in the next twenty years must be rather glanced at than related. Henry
IV. resented the step, and vain attempts were made to substitute his
supposititious child, La Beltraneja, in the place of his sister, as
successor to the throne. A civil war ensued, during which Isabella
steadily refused to assume the crown, though often entreated; limiting
her efforts to the maintenance of her rights as heiress presumptive. In
1474, or five years after her marriage, Don Henry died, and she then
became Queen of Castile, though her spurious niece was also proclaimed
by a small party among her subjects. The war of the succession, as it
was called, lasted five years longer, when Joanna, or La Beltraneja,
assumed the veil, and the rights of Isabella were generally
acknowledged. About the same time, died Don John II., when Ferdinand
mounted the throne of Aragon. These events virtually reduced the
sovereignties of the peninsula, which had so long been cut up into petty
states, to four, viz., the possessions of Ferdinand and Isabella, which
included Castile, Leon, Aragon, Valencia, and many other of the finest
provinces of Spain; Navarre, an insignificant kingdom in the Pyrenees;
Portugal, much as it exists to-day; and Granada, the last abiding-place
of the Moor, north of the strait of Gibraltar.
Neither Ferdinand, nor his royal consort, was forgetful of that clause
in their marriage contract, which bound the former to undertake a war
for the destruction of the Moorish power. The course of events, however,
caused a delay of many years, in putting this long-projected plan in
execution; but when the time finally arrived, that Providence which
seemed disposed to conduct the pious Isabella, through a train of
important incidents, from the reduced condition in which we have just
described her to have been, to the summit of human power, did not desert
its favorite. Success succeeded success--and victory, victory; until the
Moor had lost fortress after fortress, town after town, and was finally
besieged in his very capital--his last hold in the peninsula. As the
reduction of Granada was an event that, in Christian eyes, was to be
ranked second only to the rescuing of the holy sepulchre from the hands
of the Infidels, so was it distinguished by some features of
singularity, that have probably never before marked the course of a
siege. The place submitted on the 25th November, 1491--twenty-two years
after the date of the marriage just mentioned, and, it may not be amiss
to observe, on the very day of the year that has become memorable in the
annals of this country, as that on which the English, three centuries
later, reluctantly yielded their last foothold on the coast of the
republic.
In the course of the preceding summer, while the Spanish forces lay
before the town, and Isabella, with her children, were anxious witnesses
of the progress of events, an accident occurred that had well nigh
proved fatal to the royal family, and brought destruction on the
Christian arms. The pavillion of the queen took fire, and was consumed,
placing the whole encampment in the utmost jeopardy. Many of the tents
of the nobles were also destroyed, and much treasure, in the shape of
jewelry and plate, was lost, though the injury went no further. In order
to guard against the recurrence of such an accident, and probably
viewing the subjection of Granada as the great act of their mutual
reign--for, as yet, Time threw his veil around the future, and but one
human eye foresaw the greatest of all the events of the period, which
was still in reserve--the sovereigns resolved on attempting a work that,
of itself, would render this siege memorable. The plan of a regular town
was made, and laborers set about the construction of good substantial
edifices, in which to lodge the army; thus converting the warfare into
that of something like city against city. In three months this
stupendous work was completed, with its avenues, streets, and squares,
and received the name of Santa Fe, or Holy Faith--an appellation quite
as well suited to the zeal which could achieve such a work, in the heat
of a campaign, as to that general reliance on the providence of God
which animated the Christians in carrying on the war. The construction
of this place struck terror into the hearts of the Moors, for they
considered it a proof that their enemies intended to give up the
conflict only with their lives; and it is highly probable that it had a
direct and immediate influence on the submission of Boabdil, the King of
Granada, who yielded the Alhambra a few weeks after the Spaniards had
taken possession of their new abodes.
Santa Fe still exists, and is visited by the traveller as a place of
curious origin; while it is rendered remarkable by the fact--real or
assumed--that it is the only town of any size in Spain, that has never
been under Moorish sway.
The main incidents of our tale will now transport us to this era, and to
this scene; all that has been related as yet, being merely introductory
matter, to prepare the reader for the events that are to follow.
[Illustration]