Bernardo del Carpio is not the chief Spanish hero of romance. To find the
mate of Roland the paladin we must seek the incomparable Cid, the
campeador or champion of Spain, the noblest figure in Spanish story or
romance. _El Mio Cid_, "My Cid," as he is called, with his matchless horse
Bavieca and his trenchant sword Tisona, towers in Spanish tale far above
Christian king and Moslem caliph, as the pink of chivalry, the pearl of
knighthood, the noblest and worthiest figure in all that stirring age.
Cid is an Arabic word, meaning "lord" or "chief." The man to whom it was
applied was a real personage, not a figment of fancy, though it is to
poetry and romance that he owes his fame, his story having been expanded
and embellished in chronicles, epic poems, and ballads until it bears
little semblance to actual history. Yet the deeds of the man himself
probably lie at the basis of all the splendid fictions of romance.
The great poem in which his exploits were first celebrated, the famous
"Poema del Cid," is thought to be the oldest, as it is one of the noblest
in the Spanish language. Written probably not later than the year 1200, it
is of about three thousand lines in length, and of such merit that its
unknown author has been designated the "Homer of Spain." As it was written
soon after the death of the Cid, it could not have deviated far from
historic truth. Chief among the prose works is the "Chronicle of the
Cid,"--_Chronica del famoso Cavallero Cid Ruy Diez_,--which, with additions
from the poem, was charmingly rendered in English by the poet Southey,
whose production is a prose poem in itself. Such are the chief sources of
our knowledge of the Cid, an active, stirring figure, full of the spirit
of mediaevalism, whose story seems to bring back to us the living features
of the age in which he flourished. A brave and daring knight, rousing the
jealousy of nobles and kings by his valiant deeds, now banished and now
recalled, now fighting against the Moslems, now with them, now for his own
hand, and in the end winning himself a realm and dying a king without the
name,--such is the man whose story we propose to tell.
This hero of romance was born about the year 1040 at Bivar, a little
village near Burgos, his father being Diego Lainez, a man of gentle birth,
his mother Teresa Rodriguez, daughter of the governor of the Asturias. He
is often called Rodrigo de Bivar, from his birthplace, but usually Rodrigo
Diaz, or Ruy Diez, as his name is given in the chronicle.
While still a boy the future prowess of the Cid was indicated. He was keen
of intellect, active of frame, and showed such wonderful dexterity in
manly exercises as to become unrivalled in the use of arms. Those were
days of almost constant war. The kingdom of the Moors was beginning to
fall to pieces; that of the Christians was growing steadily stronger; not
only did war rage between the two races, but Moor fought with Moor,
Christian with Christian, and there was abundant work ready for the strong
hand and sharp sword. This state of affairs was to the taste of the
youthful Rodrigo, whose ambition was to become a hero of knighthood.
While gentle in manner and magnanimous in disposition, the young soldier
had an exalted sense of honor and was sternly devoted to duty. While he
was still a boy his father was bitterly insulted by Count Gomez, who
struck him in the face. The old man brooded over his humiliation until he
lost sleep and appetite, and withdrew from society into disconsolate
seclusion.
Rodrigo, deeply moved by his father's grief, sought and killed the
insulter, and brought the old man the bleeding head of his foe. At this
the disconsolate Diego rose and embraced his son, and bade him sit above
him at table, saying that "he who brought home that head should be the
head of the house of Layn Calvo."
From that day on the fame of the young knight rapidly grew, until at
length he defeated and captured five Moorish kings who had invaded
Castile. This exploit won him the love of Ximena, the fair daughter of
Count Gomez, whom he had slain. Foreseeing that he would become the
greatest man in Spain, the damsel waited not to be wooed, but offered him
her hand in marriage, an offer which he was glad to accept. And ever
after, says the chronicle, she was his loving wife.
The young champion is said to have gained the good-will of St. Lazarus and
the Holy Virgin by sleeping with a leper who had been shunned by his
knights. No evil consequences came from this example of Christian
philanthropy, while it added to the knight's high repute.
Fernando I., who had gathered a large Christian kingdom under his crown,
died when Rodrigo was but fifteen years of age, and in his will foolishly
cut up his kingdom between his three sons and two daughters, greatly
weakening the Christian power, and quickly bringing his sons to sword's
point. By the will Sancho was placed over Castile, Alfonso became king of
Leon, Garcia ruled in Galicia; Urraca, one of the daughters, received the
city of Toro, and Elvira was given that of Zamora.
Sancho was not satisfied with this division. Being the oldest, he thought
he should have all, and prepared to seize the shares of his brothers and
sisters. Looking for aid in this design, he was attracted by the growing
fame of young Rodrigo, and gained his aid in the restoration of Zamora,
which the Moors had destroyed. While thus engaged there came to Rodrigo
messengers with tribute from the five Moorish kings whom he had captured
and released. They hailed the young warrior as Sid, or Cid, and the king,
struck by the title, said that Ruy Diaz should thenceforth bear it; also
that he should be known as campeador or champion.
King Sancho now knighted the young warrior with his own hand, and soon
after made him _alferez_, or commander of his troops. As such he was
despatched against Alfonso, who was soon driven from his kingdom of Leon
and sought shelter in the Moorish city of Toledo. Leon being occupied, the
Cid marched against Galicia, and drove out Garcia as he had done Alfonso.
Then he deprived Urraca and Elvira of the cities left them by their
father, and the whole kingdom was once more placed under a single ruler.
It did not long remain so. Sancho died in 1072, and at once Alfonso and
Garcia hurried back from exile to recover their lost realms. But Alfonso's
ambition equalled that of Sancho. All or none was his motto. Invading the
kingdom of Galicia, he robbed Garcia of it and held him prisoner. Then he
prepared to invade Castile, and offered the command of the army for this
enterprise to the Cid.
The latter was ready for fighting in any form, so that he could fight with
honor. But there was doubt in his mind if service under Alfonso was
consistent with the honor of a knight. King Sancho had been assassinated
while hunting, and it was whispered that Alfonso had some share in the
murder. The high-minded Cid would not draw sword for him unless he swore
that he had no lot or part in his brother's death. Twice the Cid gave him
the oath, whereupon, says the chronicle, "My Cid repeated the oath to him
a third time, and the king and the knights said 'Amen.' But the wrath of
the king was exceeding great; and he said to the Cid, 'Ruy Diaz, why dost
thou press me so, man?' From that day forward there was no love towards My
Cid in the heart of the king."
But the king had sworn, and the Cid entered his service and soon conquered
Castile, so that Alfonso became monarch of Castile, Leon, Galicia, and
Portugal, and took the title of Emperor of Spain. As adelantado, or lord
of the marches, Ruy Diaz now occupied himself with the Moors,--fighting
where hostility reigned, taking tribute for the king from Seville and
other cities, and settling with the sword the disputes of the chiefs, or
aiding them in their quarrels. Thus he took part with Seville in a war
with Cordova, and was rewarded with so rich a present by the grateful king
that Alfonso, inspired by his secret hatred for the Cid, grew jealous and
envious.
During these events years passed on, and the Cid's two fair daughters grew
to womanhood and were married, at the command of the king, to the two
counts of Carrion. The Cid liked not his sons-in-law, and good reason he
had, for they were a pair of base hounds despite their lordly title. The
brides were shamefully treated by them, being stripped and beaten nearly
to death on their wedding-journey.
When word of this outrage came to the Cid his wrath overflowed. Stalking
with little reverence into the king's hall, he sternly demanded redress
for the brutal act. He could not appeal to the law. The husband in those
days was supreme lord and master of his wife. But there was an unwritten
law, that of the sword, and the incensed father demanded that the brutal
youths should appear in the lists and prove their honor, if they could,
against his champion.
They dared not refuse. In those days, when the sword was the measure of
honor and justice, to refuse would have been to be disgraced. They came
into the lists, where they were beaten like the hounds that they had shown
themselves, and the noble girls were set free from their bonds. Better
husbands soon sought the Cid's daughters, and they were happily married in
the end.
The exploits of the Cid were far too many for us to tell. Wherever he went
victory attended his sword. On one occasion the king marched to the aid of
one of his Moorish allies, leaving the Cid behind him too sick to ride.
Here was an opportunity for the Moors, a party of whom broke into Castile
and by a rapid march made themselves masters of the fortress of Gomez. Up
from his bed of sickness rose the Cid, mounted his steed (though he could
barely sit in the saddle), charged and scattered the invaders, pursued
them into the kingdom of Toledo, and returned with seven thousand
prisoners and all the Moorish spoil.
This brilliant defence of the kingdom was the turning point in his career.
The king of Toledo complained to Alfonso that his neutral territory had
been invaded by the Cid and his troops, and King Alfonso, seeking revenge
for the three oaths he had been compelled to take, banished the Cid from
his dominions, on the charge of invading the territory of his allies.
Thus the champion went forth as a knight-errant, with few followers, but a
great name. Tears came into his eyes as he looked back upon his home, its
doors open, its hall deserted, no hawks upon the perches, no horses in the
stalls. "My enemies have done this," he said. "God be praised for all
things." He went to Burgos, but there the people would not receive him,
having had strict orders from the king. Their houses were closed, the
inn-keepers barred their doors, only a bold little maiden dared venture
out to tell him of the decree. As there was no shelter for him there, he
was forced to seek lodging in the sands near the town.
Needing money, he obtained it by a trick that was not very honorable,
though in full accord with the ethics of those times. He pawned to the
Jews two chests which he said were treasure chests, filled with gold. Six
hundred marks were received, and when the chests were afterwards opened
they proved to be filled with sand. This was merely a good joke to poet
and chronicler. The Jews lay outside the pale of justice and fair-dealing.
Onward went the Cid, his followers growing in number as he marched. First
to Barcelona, then to Saragossa, he went, seeking knightly adventures
everywhere. In Saragossa he entered the service of the Moorish king, and
for several years fought well and sturdily for his old enemies. But time
brought a change. In 1081 Alfonso captured Toledo and made that city his
capital, from which he prepared to push his way still deeper into the
Moorish dominions. He now needed the Cid, whom he had banished five years
before.
But it was easier to ask than to get. The Cid had grown too great to be at
any king's beck and call. He would fight for Alfonso, but in his own way,
holding himself free to attack whom he pleased and when he pleased, and to
capture the cities of the Moslems and rule them as their lord. He had
become a free lance, fighting for his own hand, while armies sprang, as it
were, from the ground at his call to arms.
In those days of turmoil valor rarely had long to wait for opportunity.
Ramon Berenguer, lord of Barcelona, had laid siege to Valencia, an
important city on the Mediterranean coast. Thither marched the Cid with
all speed, seven thousand men in his train, and forced Ramon to raise the
siege. The Cid became governor of Valencia, under tribute to King Alfonso,
and under honor to hold it against the Moors.
The famous champion was not done with his troubles with Alfonso. In the
years that followed he was once more banished by the faithless king, and
his wife and children were seized and imprisoned. At a later date he came
to the king's aid in his wars, but found him again false to his word, and
was obliged to flee for safety from the camp.
Valencia had passed from his control and had more than once since changed
hands. At length the Moorish power grew so strong that the city refused to
pay tribute to Spain and declared its independence. Here was work for the
Cid--not for the benefit of Alfonso, but for his own honor and profit. He
was weary of being made the foot-ball of a jealous and faithless monarch,
and craved a kingdom of his own. Against Valencia he marched with an army
of free swords at his back. He was fighting now for the Cid, not for
Moorish emir or Spanish monarch. For twenty months he beseiged the fair
city, until starvation came to the aid of his sword. No relief reached the
Moors; the elements fought against them, floods of rain destroying the
roads and washing away the bridges; on June 15, 1094, the Cid Campeador
marched into the city thenceforth to be associated with his name.
Ascending its highest tower, he gazed with joy upon the fair possession
which he had won with his own good sword without aid from Spanish king or
Moorish ally, and which he proposed to hold for his own while life
remained. His city it was, and today it bears his name, being known as
Valencia del Cid. But he had to hold it with the good sword by which he
won it, for the Moors, who had failed to aid the beleaguered city, sought
with all their strength to win it back.
During the next year thirty thousand of them came and encamped about the
walls of the city. But fighting behind walls was not to the taste of the
Cid Campeador. Out from the gates he sallied and drove them like sheep
from their camp, killing fifteen thousand of them in the fight.
"Be it known," the chronicle tells us, "that this was a profitable day's
work. Every foot-soldier shared a hundred marks of silver that day, and
the Cid returned full honorably to Valencia. Great was the joy of the
Christians in the Cid Ruy Diaz, who was born in a happy hour. His beard
was grown, and continued to grow, a great length. My Cid said of his chin,
'For the love of King Don Alfonso, who hath banished me from his land, no
scissors shall come upon it, nor shall a hair be cut away, and Moors and
Christians shall talk of it.'" And until he died his great beard grew on
untouched.
[Illustration: VALENCIA DEL CID.]