PERIOD SECOND.

FROM THE ACCESSION OF THE AUSTRIAN FAMILY TO ITS EXTINCTION

(1500-1700).

1. THE EFFECT OF INTOLERANCE ON LETTERS.--The central point in Spanish

history is the capture of Granada. During nearly eight centuries before

that event, the Christians of Spain were occupied with conflicts that

developed extraordinary energies, till the whole land was filled to

overflowing with a power which had hardly yet been felt in Europe. But no

sooner was the last Moorish fortress yielded up, than this accumulated

flood broke loose and threatened to overspread the best portions of the

civilized world. Charles the Fifth, grandson of Ferdinand and Isabella,

inherited not only Spain, but Naples, Sicily, and the Low Countries. The

untold wealth of the Indies was already beginning to pour into his

treasury. He was elected Emperor of Germany, and he soon began a career of

conquest such as had not been imagined since the days of Charlemagne.

Success and glory ever waited for him as he advanced, and this brilliant

aspect seemed to promise that Spain would erelong be at the head of an

empire more extensive than the Roman. But a moral power was at work,

destined to divide Europe anew, and the monk Luther was already become a

counterpoise to the military master of so many kingdoms. During the

hundred and thirty years of struggle, that terminated with the peace of

Westphalia, though Spain was far removed from the fields where the most

cruel battles of the religious wars were fought, the interest she took in

the contest may be seen from the presence of her armies in every part of

Europe where it was possible to assail the great movement of the

Reformation.

In Spain, the contest with Protestantism was of short duration. By

successive decrees the church ordained that all persons who kept in their

possession books infected with the doctrines of Luther, and even all who

failed to denounce such persons, should be excommunicated, and subjected

to cruel and degrading punishments. The power of the Inquisition was

consummated in 1546, when the first "Index Expurgatorius" was published in

Spain. This was a list of the books that all persons were forbidden to

buy, sell, or keep possession of, under penalty of confiscation and death.

The tribunals were authorized and required to proceed against all persons

supposed to be infected with the new belief, even though they were

cardinals, dukes, kings, or emperors,--a power more formidable to the

progress of intellectual improvement, than had ever before been granted to

any body of men, civil or ecclesiastical.

The portentous authority thus given was freely exercised. The first public

_auto da fé_ of Protestants was held in 1559, and many others followed.

The number of victims seldom exceeded twenty burned at one time, and fifty

or sixty subjected to the severest punishments; but many of those who

suffered were among the active and leading minds of the age. Men of

learning were particularly obnoxious to suspicion, nor were persons of the

holiest lives beyond its reach if they showed a tendency to inquiry. So

effectually did the Inquisition accomplish its purpose, that, from the

latter part of the reign of Philip II., the voice of religious dissent was

scarcely heard in the land. The great body of the Spanish people rejoiced

alike in their loyalty and their orthodoxy, and the few who differed from

the mass of their fellow-subjects were either silenced by their fears, or

sunk away from the surface of society. From that time down to its

overthrow, in 1808, this institution was chiefly a political engine.

The result of such extraordinary traits in the national character could

not fail to be impressed upon the literature. Loyalty, which had once been

so generous an element in the Spanish character and cultivation, was now

infected with the ambition of universal empire, and the Christian spirit

which gave an air of duty to the wildest forms of adventure in its long

contest with misbelief, was now fallen into a bigotry so pervading that

the romances of the time are full of it, and the national theatre becomes

its grotesque monument.

Of course the literature of Spain produced during this interval--the

earlier part of which was the period of the greatest glory the country

ever enjoyed--was injuriously affected by so diseased a condition of the

national mind. Some departments hardly appeared at all, others were

strangely perverted, while yet others, like the drama, ballads, and

lyrical verse, grew exuberant and lawless, from the very restraints

imposed on the rest. But it would be an error to suppose that these

peculiarities in Spanish literature were produced by the direct action

either of the Inquisition or of the government. The foundations of this

dark work were laid deep and sure in the old Castilian character. It was

the result of the excess and misdirection of that very Christian zeal

which fought so gloriously against the intrusion of Mohammedanism into

Spain, and of that loyalty which sustained the Spanish princes so

faithfully through the whole of that terrible contest. This state of

things, however, involved the ultimate sacrifice of the best elements of

the national character. Only a little more than a century elapsed, before

the government that had threatened the world with a universal empire, was

hardly able to repel invasion from abroad or maintain its subjects at

home. The vigorous poetical life which had been kindled through the

country in its ages of trial and adversity, was evidently passing out of

the whole Spanish character. The crude wealth from their American

possessions sustained, for a century longer, the forms of a miserable

political existence; but the earnest faith, the loyalty, the dignity of

the Spanish people were gone, and little remained in their place but a

weak subserviency to unworthy masters of state, and a low, timid bigotry

in whatever related to religion. The old enthusiasm faded away, and the

poetry of the country, which had always depended more on the state of the

popular feeling than any other poetry of modern times, faded and failed

with it.

2. INFLUENCE OF ITALY ON SPANISH LITERATURE.--The political connection

between Spain and Italy in the early part of the sixteenth century, and

the superior civilization and refinement of the latter country, could not

fail to influence Spanish literature. Juan Boscan (d. 1543) was the first

to attempt the proper Italian measures as they were then practiced. He

established in Spain the Italian iambic, the sonnet, and canzone of

Petrarch, the _terza rima_ of Dante, and the flowing octaves of Ariosto.

As an original poet, the talents of Boscan were not of the highest order.

Garcilasso de la Vega (1503-1536), the contemporary and friend of Boscan,

united with him in introducing an Italian school of poetry, which has been

an important part of Spanish literature ever since. The poems of

Garcilasso are remarkable for their gentleness and melancholy, and his

versification is uncommonly sweet, and well adapted to the tender and sad

character of his poetry.

The example set by Boscan and Garcilasso so well suited the demands of the

age, that it became as much a fashion at the court of Charles V. to write

in the Italian manner, as it did to travel in Italy, or make a military

campaign there. Among those who did most to establish the Italian

influence in Spanish literature was Diego de Mendoza (1503-1575), a

scholar, a soldier, a poet, a diplomatist, a statesman, a historian, and a

man who rose to great consideration in whatever he undertook. One of his

earliest works, "Lazarillo de Tormes," the auto-biography of a boy, little

Lazarus, was written with the object of satirizing all classes of society

under the character of a servant, who sees them in undress behind the

scenes. The style of this work is bold, rich, and idiomatic, and some of

its sketches are among the most fresh and spirited that can be found in

the whole class of prose works of fiction. It has been more or less a

favorite in all languages, down to the present day, and was the foundation

of a class of fictions which the "Gil Blas" of Le Sage has made famous

throughout the world. Mendoza, after having filled many high offices under

Charles V., when Philip ascended the throne, was, for some slight offense,

banished from the court as a madman. In the poems which he occasionally

wrote during his exile, he gave the influence of his example to the new

form introduced by Boscan and Garcilasso. At a later period he occupied

himself in writing some portions of the history of his native city,

Granada, relating to the rebellion of the Moors (1568-1570). Familiar with

everything of which he speaks, there is a freshness and power in his

sketches that carry us at once into the midst of the scenes and events he

describes. "The War of Granada" is an imitation of Sallust. Nothing in the

style of the old chronicles is to be compared to it, and little in any

subsequent period is equal to it for manliness, vigor, and truth.

3. HISTORY.--The imperfect chronicles of the age of Charles V. were

surpassed in importance by the histories or narratives, more or less

ample, of the discoverers of the western world, all of which were

interesting from their subject and their materials. First in the

foreground of this picturesque group stands Fernando Cortes (1485-1554),

of whose voluminous documents the most remarkable were five long reports

to the Emperor on the affairs of Mexico.

The marvelous achievements of Cortes, however, were more fully recorded by

Gomara (b. 1510), the oldest of the regular historians of the New World.

His principal works are the "History of the Indies," chiefly devoted to

Columbus and the conquest of Peru, and the "Chronicle of New Spain," which

is merely the history and life of Cortes, under which title it has since

been republished. The style of Gomara is easy and flowing, but his work

was of no permanent authority, in consequence of the great and frequent

mistakes into which he was led by those who were too much a part of the

story to relate it fairly. These mistakes Bernal Diaz, an old soldier who

had been long in the New World, set himself at work to correct, and the

book he thus produced, with many faults, has something of the honest

nationality, and the fervor and faith of the old chronicles.

Among those who have left records of their adventures in America, one of

the most considerable is Oviedo (1478-1557), who for nearly forty years

devoted himself to the affairs of the Spanish colonies in which he

resided. His most important work is "The Natural and General History of

the Indies," a series of accounts of the natural condition, the aboriginal

inhabitants, and the political affairs of the Spanish provinces in

America, as they stood in the middle of the sixteenth century. It is of

great value as a vast repository of facts, and not without merit as a

composition.

In Las Casas (1474-1566) Oviedo had a formidable rival, who, pursuing the

same course of inquiries in the New World, came to conclusions quite

opposite. Convinced from his first arrival in Hispaniola that the gentle

nature and slight frames of the natives were subjected to toil and

servitude so hard that they were wasting away, he thenceforth devoted his

life to their emancipation. He crossed the Atlantic six times, in order to

persuade the government of Charles V. to ameliorate their condition, and

always with more or less success. His earliest work, "A Short Account of

the Ruin of the Indies," was a tract in which the sufferings and wrongs of

the Indians were doubtless much overstated by the zeal of its author, but

it awakened all Europe to a sense of the injustice it set forth. Other

short treatises followed, but none ever produced so deep and solemn an

effect on the world.

The great work of Las Casas, however, still remains inedited,--"A General

History of the Indies from 1492 to 1525." Like his other works, it shows

marks of haste and carelessness, but its value is great, notwithstanding

his too fervent zeal for the Indians. It is a repository to which Herrera,

and, through him, all subsequent historians of the Indies resorted for

materials, and without which the history of the earliest period of the

Spanish settlements in America cannot even now be written.

There are numerous other works on the discovery and conquest of America,

but they are of less consequence than those already mentioned. As a class,

they resemble the old chronicles, though they announce the approach of the

more regular form of history.

4. THE DRAMA.--Before the middle of the sixteenth century, the Mysteries

were the only dramatic exhibitions of Spain. They were upheld by

ecclesiastical power, and the people, as such, had no share in them. The

first attempt to create a popular drama was made by Lope de Rueda, a

goldbeater of Seville, who flourished between 1544 and 1567, and who

became both a dramatic writer and an actor. His works consist of comedies,

pastoral colloquies, and dialogues in prose and verse. They were written

for representation, and were acted before popular audiences by a strolling

company led about by Lope de Rueda himself. Naturalness of thought, the

most easy, idiomatic Castilian terms of expression, a good-humored gayety,

a strong sense of the ridiculous, and a happy imitation of the tone and

manners of common life, are the prominent characteristics of these plays,

and their author was justly reckoned by Cervantes and Lope de Vega as the

true founder of the popular national theatre. The ancient simplicity and

severity of the Spanish people had now been superseded by the luxury and

extravagance which the treasures of America had introduced; the

ecclesiastical fetters imposed on opinion and conscience had so connected

all ideas of morality and religion with inquisitorial severity, that the

mind longed for an escape, and gladly took refuge in amusements where

these unwelcome topics had no place. So far, the number of dramas was

small, and these had been written in forms so different and so often

opposed to each other as to have little consistency or authority, and to

offer no sufficient indication of the channel in which the dramatic

literature of the country was at last to flow. It was reserved for Lope de

Vega to seize, with the instinct of genius, the crude and unsettled

elements of the existing drama, and to form from them, and from the

abundant and rich inventions of his own overflowing fancy, a drama which,

as a whole, was unlike anything that had preceded it, and yet was so truly

national and rested so faithfully on tradition, that it was never

afterwards disturbed, till the whole literature of which it was so

brilliant a part was swept away with it.

Lope de Vega (1562-1635) early manifested extraordinary powers and a

marvelous poetic genius. After completing his education, he became

secretary to the Duke of Alba. Engaging in an affair of honor, in which he

dangerously wounded his adversary, he was obliged to fly and to remain

several years in exile. On his return to Madrid, religious and patriotic

zeal induced him to join the expedition of the Invincible Armada for the

invasion of England, and he was one of the few who returned in safety to

his native country. Domestic afflictions soon after determined him to

renounce the world and to enter holy orders. Notwithstanding this change,

he continued to cultivate poetry to the close of his long life, with so

wonderful a facility that a drama of more than two thousand lines,

intermingled with sonnets and enlivened with all kinds of unexpected

incidents and intrigues, frequently cost him no more than the labor of a

single day. He composed more rapidly than his amanuensis could transcribe,

and the managers of the theatres left him no time to copy or correct his

compositions; so that his plays were frequently represented within twenty-

four hours after their first conception. His fertility of invention and

his talent for versification are unparalleled in the history of

literature. He produced two thousand two hundred dramas, of which only

about five hundred were printed. His other poems were published at Madrid

in 1776, in twenty-one volumes quarto. His prodigious literary labors

produced him nearly as much money as glory; but his liberality to the poor

and his taste for pomp soon dissipated his wealth, and after living in

splendor, he died almost in poverty.

No poet has ever in his lifetime enjoyed such honors. Eager crowds

surrounded him whenever he showed himself abroad, and saluted him with the

appellation of _Prodigy of Nature_. Every eye was fixed on him, and

children followed him with cries of pleasure. He was chosen President of

the Spiritual College at Madrid, and the pope conferred upon him high

marks of distinction, not only for his poetical talents, but for his

enthusiastic zeal for the interests of religion. He was also appointed one

of the _familiars_ of the Inquisition, an office to which the highest

honor was at that time attached.

The fame of Lope de Vega rests upon his dramas alone, and in these there

is no end to their diversity, the subjects varying from the deepest

tragedy to the broadest farce, from the solemn mysteries of religion to

the loosest frolics of common life, and the style embracing every variety

of tone and measure known to the language of the country. In these dramas,

too, the sacred and secular, the tragic and comic, the heroic and vulgar,

all run into each other, until it seems that there is neither separate

form nor distinction attributed to any of them.

The first class of plays that Lope seems to have invented, and the one

which still remains most popular in Spain, are _dramas of the cloak and

sword_, so called from the picturesque national dress of the fashionable

class of society from which the principal characters were selected. Their

main principle is gallantry. The story is almost always involved and

intriguing, accompanied with an under-plot and parody on the principal

parties, formed by the servants and other inferior persons. The action is

chiefly carried on by lovers full of romance, or by low characters, whose

wit is mixed with buffoonery.

To the second class belong the historical or heroic dramas. Their

characters are usually kings, princes, and personages in the highest rank

of life, and their prevailing tone is imposing and tragical. A love story,

filled as usual with hair-breadth escapes, jealous quarrels, and questions

of honor, runs through nearly every one of them; but truth, in regard to

facts, manners, and customs, is entirely disregarded.

The third class contains the dramas founded on the manners of common life;

of these there are but few. Lope de Vega would doubtless have confined

himself to these three forms, but that the interference of the church for

a time forbade the representations of the secular drama, and he therefore

turned his attention to the composition of religious plays. The subjects

of these are taken from the Scriptures, or lives of the saints, and they

approach so near to the comedies of intrigue, that but for the religious

passages they would seem to belong to them. His "Sacramental Acts" was

another form of the religious drama which was still more grotesque than

the last. They were performed in the streets during the religious

ceremonies of the Corpus Christi. The spiritual dramas of Lope de Vega are

a heterogeneous mixture of bright examples of piety, according to the

views of the age and country, and the wildest flights of imagination,

combined into a whole by a fine poetic spirit.

The variety and inexhaustible fertility of the genius of this writer

constituted the corner-stone of his success, and did much to make him the

monarch of the stage while he lived, and the great master of the national

theatre ever since. But there were other circumstances that aided in

producing these surprising results, the first of which is the principle,

that runs through all his plays, of making all other interests subordinate

to the interest of the story. For this purpose he used dialogue rather to

bring out the plot than the characters, and to this end also he sacrificed

dramatic probabilities and possibilities, geography, history, and a decent

morality.

Another element which he established in the Spanish drama, was the comic

under-plot, and the witty _gracioso_ or droll, the parody of the heroic

character of the play. Much of his power over the people of his time is

also to be found in the charm of his versification, which was always

fresh, flowing, and effective. The success of Lope de Vega was in

proportion to his rare powers. For the forty or fifty years that he wrote,

nobody else was willingly heard upon the stage, and his dramas were

performed in France, Italy, and even in Constantinople. His extraordinary

talent was nearly allied to improvisation, and it required but a little

more indulgence of his feeling and fancy to have made him not only an

improvisator, but the most remarkable one that ever lived.

Nearly thirty dramatic writers followed Lope de Vega, but the school was

not received with universal applause. In its gross extravagances and

irregularities, severe critics found just cause for complaint. The

opposition of the church to the theatre, however, which had been for a

time so formidable, had at last given way, and from the beginning of the

seventeenth century, the popular drama was too strong to be subjected

either to classical criticism or ecclesiastical rule.

Calderon de la Barca (1600-1681) was the great successor and rival of Lope

de Vega. At the age of thirty-two, his reputation as a poet was an

enviable one. Soon after, when the death of Lope de Vega left the theatre

without a master, he was formally attached to the court for the purpose of

furnishing dramas to be represented in the royal theatres. In 1651, he

followed the example of Lope de Vega and other men of letters of his time,

by entering a religious brotherhood. Many ecclesiastical dignities were

conferred upon him, but he did not, however, on this account intermit his

dramatic labors, but continued through his long life to write for the

theatres, for the court, and for the churches. Many dramas of Calderon

were printed without his consent, and many were attributed to him which he

never wrote. His reputation as a dramatic poet rests on the seventy-three

sacramental _autos_, and one hundred and eight dramas, which are known to

be his. The _autos_, from the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, were among

the favorite amusements of the people; but in the age of Calderon they

were much increased in number and importance; they had become attractive

to all classes of society, and were represented with great luxury and at

great expense in the streets of all the larger cities. A procession, in

which the king and court appeared, preceded by the fantastic figures of

giants, with music, banners, and religious shows, followed the sacrament

through the street, and then, before the houses of the great officers of

state, the _autos_ were performed; the giants made sport for the

multitude, and the entertainment concluded with music and dancing.

Sometimes the procession was headed by the figure of a monster called the

_Tarasca_, half serpent in form, borne by men concealed in its cumbrous

bulk, and surmounted by another figure representing the woman of Babylon,

--all so managed as to fill with wonder and terror the country people who

crowded round it, and whose hats and caps were generally snatched away by

the grinning beast, and became the lawful prize of his conductors. This

exhibition was at first rude and simple, but under the influence of Lope

de Vega it became a well-defined, popular entertainment, divided into

three parts, each distinct from the other. First came the _loa_, a kind of

prologue; then the _entremes_, a kind of interlude or farce; and last, the

_autos sacramentales_, or sacred acts themselves, which were more grave in

their tone, though often whimsical and extravagant.

The seventy-three _autos_ written by Calderon are all allegorical, and by

the music and show with which they abound, they closely approach to the

opera. They are upon a great variety of subjects, and indicate by their

structure that elaborate and costly machinery must have been used in their

representation. They are crowded with such personages as Sin, Death,

Judaism, Mercy, and Charity, and the purpose of all is to set forth the

Real Presence in the Eucharist. The great enemy of mankind of course fills

a large place in them. Almost all of them contain passages of striking

lyrical poetry.

The secular plays of Calderon can scarcely be classified, for in many of

them even more than two forms of the drama are mingled. To the principle

of making a story that should sustain the interest throughout, Calderon

sacrificed almost as much as Lope de Vega did. To him facts are never

obstacles. Coriolanus is a general under Romulus; the Danube is placed

between Sweden and Russia; and Herodotus is made to describe America. But

in these dramas we rarely miss the interest and charm of a dramatic story,

which provokes the curiosity and enchains the attention.

In the dramas of the Cloak and Sword the plots of Calderon are intricate.

He excelled in the accumulation of surprises, in plunging his characters

into one difficulty after another, maintaining the interest to the last.

In style and versification Calderon has high merits, though they are

occasionally mingled with the defects of his age. He added no new forms to

dramatic composition, nor did he much modify those which had been already

settled by Lope de Vega; but he showed greater skill in the arrangement of

his incidents, and more poetry in the structure and tendency of his

dramas. To his elevated tone we owe much of what distinguishes Calderon

from his predecessors, and nearly all that is most individual in his

merits and defects. In carrying out his theory of the national drama, he

often succeeds and often fails; and when he succeeds, he sets before us an

idealized drama, resting on the noblest elements of the Spanish national

character, and one which, with all its unquestionable defects, is to be

placed among the extraordinary phenomena of modern poetry.

The most brilliant period of the Spanish drama falls within the reign of

Philip II., which extended from 1620 to 1665, and embraced the last years

of the life of Lope de Vega, and the thirty most fortunate years of the

life of Calderon. After this period a change begins to be apparent; for

the school of Lope was that of a drama in the freshness and buoyancy of

youth, while that of Calderon belongs to the season of its maturity and

gradual decay. The many writers who were either contemporary with Lope de

Vega and Calderon, or who succeeded them, had little influence on the

character of the theatre. This, in its proper outlines, always remained as

it was left by these great masters, who maintained an almost unquestioned

control over it while they lived, and at their death left a character

impressed upon it, which it never lost till it ceased to exist altogether.

When Lope de Vega first appeared as a dramatic writer at Madrid, the only

theatres he found were two unsheltered courtyards, which depended on such

companies of strolling players as occasionally visited the capital. Before

he died, there were, besides the court-yards in Madrid, several theatres

of great magnificence in the royal palaces, and many thousand actors; and

half a century later, the passion for dramatic representations had spread

into every part of the kingdom, and there was hardly a village that did

not possess a theatre.

During the whole of the successful period of the drama, the

representations took place in the daytime. Dancing was early an important

part of the theatrical exhibitions in Spain, even of the religious, and

its importance has continued down to the present day. From the earliest

antiquity it was the favorite amusement of the rude inhabitants of the

country, and in modern times dancing has been to Spain what music has been

to Italy, a passion with the whole population.

In all its forms and subsidiary attractions, the Spanish drama was

essentially a popular entertainment, governed by the popular will. Its

purpose was to please all equally, and it was not only necessary that the

play should be interesting; it was, above all, required that it should be

Spanish, and, therefore, whatever the subject might be, whether actual or

mythological, Greek or Roman, the characters were always represented as

Castilian, and Castilian of the seventeenth century. It was the same with

their costumes. Coriolanus appeared in the costume of Don Juan of Austria,

and Aristotle came on the stage dressed like a Spanish Abbé, with curled

periwig and buckles on his shoes.

The Spanish theatre, therefore, in many of its characteristics and

attributes, stands by itself. It is entirely national, it takes no

cognizance of ancient example, and it borrowed nothing from the drama of

France, Italy, or England. Founded on traits of national character, with

all its faults, it maintained itself as long as that character existed in

its original attributes, and even now it remains one of the most striking

and interesting portions of modern literature.

5. ROMANCES AND TALES.--Hitherto the writers of Spain had been little

known, except in their own country; but we are now introduced to an author

whose fame is bounded by no language and no country, and whose name is not

alone familiar to men of taste and learning, but to almost every class of

society.

Cervantes (1547-1616), though of noble family, was born in poverty and

obscurity, not far from Madrid. When he was about twenty-one years of age,

he attached himself to the person of Cardinal Aquaviva, with whom he

visited Rome. He soon after enlisted as a common soldier in the war

against the Turks, and, in the great battle of Lepanto, 1572, he received

a wound which deprived him of the use of his left hand and arm, and

obliged him to quit the military profession. On his way home he was

captured by pirates, carried to Algiers, and sold for a slave. Here he

passed five years full of adventure and suffering. At length his ransom

was effected, and he returned home to find his father dead, his family

reduced to a still more bitter poverty by his ransom, and himself

friendless and unknown. He withdrew from the world to devote himself to

literature, and to gain a subsistence by his pen.

One of the first productions of Cervantes was the pastoral romance of

"Galatea." This was followed by several dramas, the principal of which is

founded on the tragical fate of Numantia. Notwithstanding its want of

dramatic skill, it may be cited as a proof of the author's poetical

talent, and as a bold effort to raise the condition of the stage.

After many years of poverty and embarrassment, in 1605, when Cervantes had

reached his fiftieth year, he published the first part of "Don Quixote."

The success of this effort was incredible. Many thousand copies are said

to have been printed during the author's lifetime. It was translated into

various languages, and eulogized by every class of readers, yet it

occasioned little improvement in the pecuniary circumstances of the

author. In 1615, he published the second part of the same work, and, in

the year following, his eventful and troubled life drew to its close.

"Don Quixote," of all the works of all modern times, bears most deeply the

impression of the national character it represents, and it has in return

enjoyed a degree of national favor never granted to any other. The object

of Cervantes in writing it was, as he himself declares, "to render

abhorred of men the false and absurd stories contained in books of

chivalry." The fanaticism for these romances was so great in Spain during

the sixteenth century, and they were deemed so noxious, that the burning

of all copies extant in the country was earnestly asked for by the Cortes.

To destroy a passion that had struck its roots so deeply in the character

of all classes of men, to break up the only reading which, at that time,

was fashionable and popular, was a bold undertaking, yet one in which

Cervantes succeeded. No book of chivalry was written after the appearance

of "Don Quixote;" and from that time to the present they have been

constantly disappearing, until they are now among the rarest of literary

curiosities,--a solitary instance of the power of genius to destroy, by a

well-timed blow, an entire department of literature.

In accomplishing this object, Cervantes represents "Don Quixote" as a

country gentleman of La Mancha, full of Castilian honor and enthusiasm,

but so completely crazed by reading the most famous books of chivalry,

that he not only believes them to be true, but feels himself called upon

to become the impossible knight-errant they describe, and actually goes

forth into the world, like them, to defend the oppressed and avenge the

injured. To complete his chivalrous equipment, which he had begun by

fitting up for himself a suit of armor strange to his century, he took an

esquire out of his neighborhood, a middle-aged peasant, ignorant,

credulous, and good-natured, but shrewd enough occasionally to see the

folly of their position. The two sally forth from their native village in

search of adventures, of which the excited imagination of the knight--

turning windmills into giants, solitary turrets into castles, and galley

slaves into oppressed gentlemen--finds abundance wherever he goes, while

the esquire translates them all into the plain prose of truth, with a

simplicity strikingly contrasted with the lofty dignity and the

magnificent illusions of the knight. After a series of ridiculous

discomfitures, the two are at last brought home like madmen to their

native village.

Ten years later, Cervantes published the second part of Don Quixote, which

is even better than the first. It shows more vigor and freedom, the

invention and the style of thought are richer, and the finish more exact.

Both Don Quixote and Sancho are brought before us like such living

realities, that at this moment the figures of the crazed, gaunt, and

dignified knight, and of his round, selfish, and most amusing esquire,

dwell bodied forth in the imagination of more, among all conditions of men

throughout Christendom, than any other of the creations of human talent.

In this work Cervantes has shown himself of kindred to all times and all

lands, to the humblest as well as to the highest degrees of cultivation,

and he has received in return, beyond all other writers, a tribute of

sympathy and admiration from the universal spirit of humanity.

This romance, which Cervantes threw so carelessly from him, and which he

regarded only as a bold effort to break up the absurd taste for the

fancies of chivalry, has been established by an uninterrupted and an

unquestioned success ever since, as the oldest classical specimen of

romantic fiction, and as one of the most remarkable monuments of modern

genius. But Cervantes is entitled to a higher glory: it should be borne in

mind that this delightful romance was not the result of a youthful

exuberance of feeling, and a happy external condition; with all its

unquenchable and irresistible humor, its bright views, and its cheerful

trust in goodness and virtue, it was written in his old age, at the

conclusion of a life which had been marked at nearly every step with

struggle, disappointment, and calamity; it was begun in prison, and

finished when he felt the hand of death pressing cold and heavy upon his

heart. If this be remembered as we read, we may feel what admiration and

reverence are due, not only to the living power of Don Quixote, but to the

character and genius of Cervantes; if it be forgotten or underrated, we

shall fail in regard to both.

The first form of romantic fiction which succeeded the romances of

chivalry was that of prose pastorals, which was introduced into Spain by

Montemayor, a Portuguese, who lived, probably, between 1520 and 1561. To

divert his mind from the sorrow of an unrequited attachment, he composed a

romance entitled "Diana," which, with numerous faults, possesses a high

degree of merit. It was succeeded by many similar tales.

The next form of Spanish prose fiction, and the one which has enjoyed a

more permanent regard, is that known as tales in the _gusto picaresco_, or

style of the rogues. As a class, they constitute a singular exhibition of

character, and are as separate and national as anything in modern

literature. The first fiction of this class was the "Lazarillo de Tormes"

of Mendoza, already spoken of, published in 1554,--a bold, unfinished

sketch of the life of a rogue from the very lowest condition of society.

Forty-five years afterwards this was followed by the "Guzman de Alfarache"

of Aleman, the most ample portraiture of its class to be found in Spanish

literature. It is chiefly curious and interesting because it shows us, in

the costume of the times, the life of an ingenious Machiavelian rogue, who

is never at a loss for an expedient, and who speaks of himself always as

an honest man. The work was received with great favor, and translated into

all the languages of Europe.

But the work which most plainly shows the condition of social life which

produced this class of tales, is the "Life of Estevanillo Gonzalez," first

printed in 1646. It is the autobiography of a buffoon who was long in the

service of Piccolomini, the great general of the Thirty Years' War. The

brilliant success of these works at home and abroad subsequently produced

the Gil Blas of Le Sage, an imitation more brilliant than any of the

originals that it followed.

The serious and historical fictions produced in Spain were limited in

number, and with few exceptions deserved little favor. Short stories or

tales were more successful than any other form of prose-fiction during the

latter part of the sixteenth, and the whole of the seventeenth century.

They belonged to the spirit of their own times and to the state of society

in which they appeared. Taken together, the number of fictions in Spanish

literature is enormous; but what is more remarkable than their multitude,

is the fact that they were produced when the rest of Europe, with a

partial exception in favor of Italy, was not yet awakened to corresponding

efforts of the imagination. The creative spirit, however, soon ceased, and

a spirit of French imitation took its place.

6. HISTORICAL NARRATIVE POEMS.--Epic poetry, from its dignity and

pretensions, is almost uniformly placed at the head of the different

divisions of a nation's literature. But in Spain little has been achieved

in this department that is worthy of memory. The old half-epic poem of the

Cid--the first attempt at narration in the languages of modern Europe that

deserves the name--is one of the most remarkable outbreaks of poetical and

national enthusiasm on record. The few similar attempts that followed

during the next three centuries, while they serve to mark the progress of

Spanish culture, show little of the power manifested in the Cid.

In the reign of Charles V., the poets of the time evidently imagined that

to them was assigned the task of celebrating the achievements in the Old

World and in the New, which had raised their country to the first place

among the powers of Europe. There were written, therefore, during this and

the succeeding reigns, an extraordinary number of epic and narrative poems

on subjects connected with ancient and modern Spanish glory, but they all

belong to patriotism rather than to poetry; the best of these come with

equal pretension into the province of history. There is but one long poem

of this class which obtained much regard when it appeared, and which has

been remembered ever since, the "Araucana." The author of this work,

Ercilla (1533-1595), was a page of Philip the Second, and accompanied him

to England on the occasion of his marriage with Mary. News having arrived

that the Araucans, a tribe of Indians in Chili, had revolted against the

Spanish authority, Ercilla joined the adventurous expedition that was sent

out to subdue them. In the midst of his exploits he conceived the plan of

writing a narrative of the war in the form of an epic poem. After the

tumult of a battle, or the fatigues of a march, he devoted the hours of

the night to his literary labors, wielding the pen and sword by turns, and

often obliged to write on pieces of skin or scraps of paper so small as to

contain only a few lines. In this poem the descriptive powers of Ercilla

are remarkable, and his characters, especially those of the American

chiefs, are drawn with force and distinctness. The whole poem is pervaded

by that deep sense of loyalty, always a chief ingredient in Spanish honor

and heroism, and which, in Ercilla, seems never to have been chilled by

the ingratitude of the master to whom he devoted his life, and to whose

glory he consecrated this poem.

These narrative and heroic poems continued long in favor in Spain, and

they retained to the last those ambitious feelings of national greatness

which had given them birth. Devoted to the glory of their country, they

were produced when the national character was on the decline; and as they

sprang more directly from that character, and depended more on its spirit

than did the similar poetry of any other people in modern times, so they

now visibly declined with them.

7. LYRIC POETRY.--The number of authors in the various classes of Spanish

lyric poetry, whose works have been preserved between the beginning of the

reign of Charles V. and the end of that of the last of his race, is not

less than a hundred and twenty; but the number of those who were

successful is small. A little of what was written by the Argensolas, more

of Herrera, and nearly the whole of the Bachiller de la Torre and Luis de

Leon, with occasional efforts of Lope de Vega and Quevedo, and single odes

of other writers, make up what gives its character to the graver and less

popular portion of Spanish lyric poetry. Their writings form a body of

poetry, not large, but one that from its living, national feeling on the

one side, and its dignity on the other, may be placed without question

among the most successful efforts of modern literature.

The Argensolas were two brothers who flourished in Spain at the beginning

of the seventeenth century; both occupy a high place in this department of

poetry. The original poems of Luis de Leon (1528-1591) fill no more than a

hundred pages, but there is hardly a line of them which has not its value,

and the whole taken together are to be placed at the head of Spanish lyric

poetry. They are chiefly religious, and the source of their inspiration is

the Hebrew Scriptures. Herrera (1534-1597) is the earliest classic ode

writer in modern literature, and his poems are characterized by dignity of

language, harmony of versification, and elevation of ideas. Luis de Leon

and Herrera are considered the two great masters of Spanish lyric poetry.

Quevedo (1580-1645) was successful in many departments of letters. The

most prominent characteristics of his verse are a broad, grotesque humor,

and a satire often imitated from the ancients. His amatory and religious

poems are occasionally marked by extreme beauty and tenderness. The works

upon which his reputation principally rests, however, are in prose, and

belong to theology and metaphysics rather than to elegant literature. They

were produced during the weary years of an unjust imprisonment. His prose

satires are the most celebrated of his compositions, and by these he will

always be remembered throughout the world.

In the early part of the seventeenth century there arose a sect who

attempted to create a new epoch in Spanish poetry, by affecting an

exquisite refinement, and who ran into the most ridiculous extravagance

and pedantry. The founder of this "cultivated style," as it was called,

was Luis Gongora (1561-1627), and his name, like that of Marini in Italy,

has become a byword in literature. The style he introduced became at once

fashionable at court, and it struck so deep root in the soil of the whole

country, that it has not yet been completely eradicated. The most odious

feature of this style is, that it consists entirely of metaphors, so

heaped upon one another that it is as difficult to find out the meaning

hidden under their grotesque mass, as if it were a series of confused

riddles. The success of this style was very great, and inferior poets

bowed to it throughout the country.

8. SATIRICAL AND OTHER POETRY.--Satirical poetry never enjoyed a wide

success in Spain. The nation has always been too grave and dignified to

endure the censure it implied. It was looked upon with, distrust, and

thought contrary to the conventions of good society to indulge in its

composition. Neither was elegiac poetry extensively cultivated. The

Spanish temperament was little fitted to the subdued, simple, and gentle

tone of the proper elegy. The echoes of pastoral poetry in Spain are heard

far back among the old ballads; but the Italian forms were early

introduced and naturalized. Two Portuguese writers, Montemayor and

Miranda, were most successful in this department of poetry. Equally

characteristic of the Spanish genius, with its pastorals, were the short

epigrammatic poems which appeared through the best age of its literature.

They are generally in the truest tone of popular verse. Of didactic

poetry, there were many irregular varieties; but the popular character of

Spanish poetry, and the severe nature of the ecclesiastical and political

constitutions of Spain, were unfavorable to the development of this form

of verse, and unlikely to tolerate it on any important subject. It

remained, therefore, one of the feeblest and least successful departments

of the national literature.

In the seventeenth century, ballads had become the delight of the whole

Spanish people. The soldier solaced himself with them in his tent, the

maiden danced to them on the green, the lover sang them for his serenade,

the street beggar chanted them for alms; they entered into the sumptuous

entertainments of the nobility, the holiday services of the church, and

into the orgies of thieves and vagabonds. No poetry of modern times has

been so widely spread through all classes of society, and none has so

entered into the national character. They were often written by authors

otherwise little known, and they were always found in the works of those

poets of note who desired to stand well with the mass of their countrymen.

9. HISTORY AND OTHER PROSE WRITINGS.--The fathers of Spanish history are

Zurita and Morales. Zurita (1512-1580) was the author of the "Annals of

Aragon," a work more important to Spanish history than any that had

preceded it. Morales (1513-1591) was historiographer to the crown of

Castile, and his unfinished history of that country is marked by much

general ability. Contemporary with these writers was Mendoza, already

mentioned. The honor of being the first historian of the country, however,

belongs to Mariana (1536-1623), a foundling who was educated a Jesuit. His

main occupation for the last thirty or forty years of his life was his

great "History of Spain." There is an air of good faith in his accounts

and a vividness in his details which are singularly attractive. If not in

all respects the most trustworthy of annals, it is at least the most

remarkable union of picturesque chronicling with sober history that the

world has ever seen. Sandoval (d. 1621) took up the history of Spain where

Mariana left it; but while his is a work of authority, it is unattractive

in style. "The General History of the Indies," by Herrera, is a work of

great value, and the one on which the reputation of the author as a

historian chiefly rests.

One of the most pleasing of the minor Spanish histories is Argensola's

account of the Moluccas. It is full of the traditions found among the

natives by the Portuguese when they first landed there, and of the wild

adventures that followed when they had taken possession of the island.

Garcilasso de la Vega, the son of one of the unscrupulous conquerors of

Peru, descended on his mother's side from the Incas, wrote the "History of

Florida," of which the adventures of De Soto constitute the most brilliant

portion. His "Commentaries on Peru" is a striking and interesting work.

The last of the historians of eminence in the elder school of Spanish

history was Solis, whose "Conquest of Mexico" is beautifully written, and

as it was flattering to the national history, it was at once successful,

and has enjoyed an unimpaired popularity down to our times.

The spirit of political tyranny in the government, and of religious

tyranny in the Inquisition, now more than ever united, were more hostile

to bold and faithful inquiry in the department of history than in almost

any other. Still, the historians of this period were not unworthy of the

national character. Their works abound in feeling rather than philosophy,

and are written in a style that marks, not so much the peculiar genius of

their authors, perhaps, as that of the country that gave them birth.

Although they may not be entirely classical, they are entirely Spanish;

and what they want in finish and grace they make up in picturesqueness and

originality.

In one form of didactic composition, Spain stands in advance of other

countries: that of proverbs, which Cervantes has happily called "short

sentences drawn from long experience." Spanish proverbs can be traced back

to the earliest times. Although twenty-four thousand have been collected,

many thousands still remain known only among the traditions of the humbler

classes of society that have given birth to them all.

From the early part of the seventeenth century, Spanish prose became

infected with that pedantry and affectation already spoken of as

Gongorism, or "the cultivated style;" and from this time, everything in

prose as well as in poetry announced that corrupted taste which both

precedes and hastens the decay of a literature, and which in the latter

half of the seventeenth century was in Spain but the concomitant of a

general decline in the arts and the gradual degradation of the monarchy.

No country in Christendom had fallen from such a height of power as that

which Spain occupied in the time of Charles V. into such an abyss of

degradation as she reached when Charles II., the last of the house of

Austria, ceased to reign. The old religion of the country, the most

prominent of all the national characteristics, was now so perverted from

its true character by intolerance that it had become a means of

oppression, such as Europe never before witnessed. The principle of

loyalty, now equally perverted and mischievous, had sunk into servile

submission, and as we approach the conclusion of the century, the

Inquisition and the despotism seem to have cast their blight over

everything.

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