popular feeling, inferred a stretch of arbitrary power that cannot be
charged on those which emanated directly from the suggestion of the
legislature. In this respect, however, it fell far short of those
ordinances which proceeded exclusively from the royal will, without
reference to the wishes of the commons. Such ordinances--and they were
probably more numerous than any other class of laws during this
reign--are doubtless among the most arbitrary acts of which a monarch
can be guilty; for they imply nothing less than an assumption of the
law-making power into his own hands. Indeed, they met with a strong
remonstrance in the year 1579, when Philip was besought by the commons
not to make any laws but such as had first received the sanction of the
Cortes.[434] Yet Philip might vindicate himself by the example of his
predecessors--even of those who, like Ferdinand and Isabella, had most
at heart the interests of the nation.[435]
It must be further admitted, that the more regular mode of proceeding,
with the co-operation of the Cortes, had in it much to warrant the idea,
that the real right of legislation was vested in the king. A petition,
usually couched in the most humble terms, prayed his majesty to give his
assent to the law proposed. This he did in a few words; or, what was
much more common, he refused to give it, declaring that, in the existing
case, "it was not expedient that any change should be made." It was
observed that the number of cases in which Philip rejected the petitions
of the commons was much greater than had been usual with former
sovereigns.
[Sidenote: THE GUARDS OF CASTILE.]
A more frequent practice with Philip was one that better suited his
hesitating nature and habit of procrastination. He replied in ambiguous
terms, that "he would take the matter into consideration," or "that he
would lay it before his council, and take such measures as would be best
for his service." Thus the Cortes adjourned in ignorance of the fate of
their petitions. Even when he announced his assent, as it was left to
him to prescribe the terms of the law, it might be more or less
conformable to those of the petition. The Cortes having been dismissed,
there was no redress to be obtained if the law did not express their
views, nor could any remonstrance be presented by that body until their
next session, usually three years later. The practice established by
Charles the Fifth, of postponing the presenting of petitions till the
supplies had been voted, and the immediate adjournment of the
legislature afterwards, secured an absolute authority to the princes of
the house of Austria, that made a fearful change in the ancient
constitution of Castile.
Yet the meetings of the Cortes, shorn as that body was of its ancient
privileges, were not without important benefits to the nation. None
could be better acquainted than the deputies with the actual wants and
wishes of their constituents. It was a manifest advantage for the king
to receive this information. It enabled him to take the course best
suited to the interests of the people, to which he would naturally be
inclined when he did not regard them as conflicting with his own. Even
when he did, the strenuous support of their own views by the commons
might compel him to modify his measures. However absolute the monarch,
he would naturally shrink from pursuing a policy so odious to the people
that, if persevered in, it might convert remonstrance into downright
resistance.
The freedom of discussion among the deputies is attested by the
independent tone with which in their petitions they denounce the
manifold abuses in the state. It is honourable to Philip, that he should
not have attempted to stifle this freedom of debate; though perhaps this
may be more correctly referred to his policy, which made him willing to
leave this safety-valve open for the passions of the people. He may have
been content to flatter them with the image of power, conscious that he
alone retained the substance of it. However this may have been, the good
effect of the exercise of these rights, imperfect as they were, by the
third estate, must be highly estimated. The fact of being called
together to consult on public affairs gave the people a consideration in
their own eyes which raised them far above the abject condition of the
subjects of an Eastern despotism. It cherished in them that love of
independence which was their birthright, inherited from their ancestors,
and thus maintained in their bosoms those lofty sentiments which were
the characteristics of the humbler classes of the Spaniards beyond those
of any other nation in Christendom.
One feature was wanting to complete the picture of absolute monarchy.
This was a standing army,--a thing hitherto unknown in Spain. There was,
indeed, an immense force kept on foot in the time of Charles the Fifth,
and many of the troops were Spaniards. But they were stationed abroad,
and were intended solely for foreign enterprises. It is to Philip's time
that we are to refer the first germs of a permanent military
establishment, designed to maintain order and obedience at home.
The levies raised for this purpose amounted to twenty companies of
men-at-arms, which, with the complement of four or five followers to
each lance, made a force of some strength. It was further swelled by
five thousand _ginetes_, or light cavalry.[436] These corps were a heavy
charge on the crown. They were called "the Guards of Castile." The
men-at-arms, in particular, were an object of great care, and were under
admirable discipline. Even Philip, who had little relish for military
affairs, was in the habit of occasionally reviewing them in person. In
addition to these troops there was a body of thirty thousand militia,
whom the king could call into the field when necessary. A corps of some
sixteen hundred horsemen patrolled the southern coast of Andalusia, to
guard the country from invasion by the African Moslems; and garrisons
established in fortresses along the frontiers of Spain, both, north and
south, completed a permanent force for the defence of the kingdom
against domestic insurrection, as well as foreign invasion.
CHAPTER II.
DOMESTIC AFFAIRS OF SPAIN.
The Clergy--Their Subordination to the Crown--The Escorial--Queen Anne.
A review of the polity of Castile would be incomplete without a notice
of the ecclesiastical order, which may well be supposed to have stood
pre-eminent in such a country, and under such a monarch as Philip the
Second. Indeed, not only did that prince present himself before the
world as the great champion of the Faith, but he seemed ever solicitous
in private life to display his zeal for religion and its ministers. Many
anecdotes are told of him in connection with this. On one occasion,
seeing a young girl going within the railing of the altar, he rebuked
her, saying, "Where the priest enters is no place either for me or
you."[437] A cavalier who had given a blow to a canon of Toledo he
sentenced to death.[438]
Under his protection and princely patronage, the Church reached its most
palmy state. Colleges and convents--in short, religious institutions of
every kind--were scattered broadcast over the land. The good fathers
loved pleasant and picturesque sites for their dwellings; and the
traveller, as he journeyed through the country, was surprised by the
number of stately edifices which crowned the hill-tops, or rested on
their slopes, surrounded by territories that spread out for many a
league over meadows and cultivated fields and pasture-land.
The secular clergy, at least the higher dignitaries, were so well
endowed as sometimes to eclipse the grandees in the pomp of their
establishments. In the time of Ferdinand and Isabella, the archbishop of
Toledo held jurisdiction over fifteen principal towns and a great number
of villages. His income amounted to full eighty thousand ducats a
year.[439] In Philip's time the income of the archbishop of Seville
amounted to the same sum, while that of the see of Toledo had risen to
two hundred thousand ducats, nearly twice as much as that of the richest
grandee in the kingdom.[440] In power and opulence, the primate of Spain
ranked next in Christendom to the pope.
The great source of all this wealth of the ecclesiastical order in
Castile, as in most other countries, was the benefactions and bequests
of the pious--of those, more especially, whose piety had been deferred
till the close of life, when, anxious to make amends for past
delinquencies, they bestowed the more freely that it was at the expense
of their heirs. As what was thus bequeathed was locked up by entail, the
constantly accumulating property of the Church had amounted, in Philip's
time, if we may take the assertion of the Cortes, to more than one-half
of the landed property in the kingdom.[441] Thus the burden of providing
for the expenses of the state fell with increased heaviness on the
commons. Alienations in mortmain formed the subject of one of their
earliest remonstrances after Philip's accession, but without effect; and
though the same petition was urged in very plain language at almost
every succeeding session, the king still answered that it was not
expedient to make any change in the existing laws. Besides his goodwill
to the ecclesiastical order, Philip was occupied with the costly
construction of the Escorial; and he had probably no mind to see the
streams of public bounty, which had hitherto flowed so freely into the
reservoirs of the Church, thus suddenly obstructed, when they were so
much needed for his own infant institution.
[Sidenote: THE CLERGY.]
While Philip was thus willing to exalt the religious order, already far
too powerful, he was careful that it should never gain such a height as
would enable it to overtop the royal authority. Both in the Church and
in the council--for they were freely introduced into the
councils--theologians were ever found the most devoted servants of the
crown. Indeed, it was on the crown that they were obliged to rest all
their hopes of preferment.
Philip perfectly understood that the control of the clergy must be
lodged with that power which had the right of nomination to benefices.
The Roman see, in its usual spirit of encroachment, had long claimed the
exercise of this right in Castile, as it had done in other European
states. The great battle with the Church was fought in the time of
Isabella the Catholic. Fortunately the sceptre was held by a sovereign
whose loyalty to the Faith was beyond suspicion. From this hard struggle
she came off victorious; and the government of Castile henceforth
retained possession of the important prerogative of appointing to vacant
benefices.
Philip, with all his deference to Rome, was not a man to relinquish any
of the prerogatives of the crown. A difficulty arose under Pius the
Fifth, who contended that he still had the right, possessed by former
popes, of nominating to ecclesiastical offices in Milan, Naples, and
Sicily, the Italian possessions held by Spain. He complained bitterly of
the conduct of the councils in those states, which refused to allow the
publication of his bulls without the royal _exequatur_. Philip, in mild
terms, expressed his desire to maintain the most amicable relations with
the see of Rome, provided he was not required to compromise the
interests of his crown. At the same time he intimated his surprise that
his holiness should take exceptions at his exercise of the rights of his
predecessors, to many of whom the Church was indebted for the most
signal services. The pope was well aware of the importance of
maintaining a good understanding with so devoted a son of the Church;
and Philip was allowed to remain henceforth in undisturbed possession of
this inestimable prerogative.[442]
The powers thus vested in the king he exercised with great discretion.
With his usual facilities for information he made himself acquainted
with the characters of the clergy in the different parts of his
dominions. He was so accurate in his knowledge, that he was frequently
able to detect an error or omission in the information he received. To
one who had been giving him an account of a certain ecclesiastic, he
remarked--"You have told me nothing of his amours." Thus perfectly
apprised of the characters of the candidates, he was prepared, whenever
a vacancy occurred, to fill the place with a suitable incumbent.[443]
It was his habit, before preferring an individual to a high office, to
have proof of his powers by trying them first in some subordinate
station. In his selection he laid much stress on rank, for the influence
it carried with it. Yet frequently, when well satisfied of the merits of
the parties, he promoted those whose humble condition had made them
little prepared for such, an elevation.[444] There was no more effectual
way to secure his favour than to show a steady resistance to the
usurpations of Rome. It was owing, in part at least, to the refusal of
Quiroga, the bishop of Cuenca, to publish a papal bull without the royal
assent, that he was raised to the highest dignity in the kingdom, as
archbishop of Toledo. Philip chose to have a suitable acknowledgment
from the person on whom he conferred a favour; and once, when an
ecclesiastic, whom he had made a bishop, went to take possession of his
see without first expressing his gratitude, the king sent for him back,
to remind him of his duty.[445] Such an acknowledgment was in the nature
of a homage rendered to his master on his preferment.
Thus gratitude for the past and hopes for the future were the strong
ties which bound every prelate to his sovereign. In a difference with
the Roman see, the Castilian churchman was sure to be found on the side
of the sovereign, rather than, on that of the pontiff. In his own
troubles, in like manner, it was to the king, and not to the pope, that
he was to turn for relief. The king, on the other hand, when pressed by
those embarrassments with which he was too often surrounded, looked for
aid to the clergy, who for the most part rendered it cheerfully and in
liberal measure. Nowhere were the clergy so heavily burdened as in
Spain.[446] It was computed that at least one-third of their revenues
was given to the king. Thus completely were the different orders, both
spiritual and temporal, throughout the monarchy, under the control of
the sovereign.
A few pages back, while touching on alienations in mortmain, I had
occasion to allude to the Escorial, that "eighth wonder of the world,"
as it is proudly styled by the Spaniards. There can be no place more
proper to give an account of this extraordinary edifice, than the part
of the narrative in which I have been desirous to throw as much light as
possible on the character and occupations of Philip. The Escorial
engrossed the leisure of more than thirty years of his life; it reflects
in a peculiar manner his tastes, and the austere character of his mind;
and whatever criticism may be passed on it as a work of art, it cannot
be denied that, if every other vestige of his reign were to be swept
away, that wonderful structure would of itself suffice to show the
grandeur of his plans and the extent of his resources.
The common tradition that Philip built the Escorial in pursuance of a
vow which he made at the time of the great battle of St. Quentin, the
10th of August, 1557, has been rejected by modern critics, on the ground
that contemporary writers, and amongst them the historians of the
convent, make no mention of the fact. But a recently-discovered document
leaves little doubt that such a vow was actually made.[447] However this
may have been, it is certain that the king designed to commemorate the
event by this structure, as is intimated by its dedication to St.
Lawrence, the martyr on whose day the victory was gained. The name given
to the place was _El Sitio de San Lorenzo el Real_. But the monastery
was better known from the hamlet near which it stood,--_El Escurial_, or
_El Escorial_,--which latter soon became the orthography generally
adopted by the Castilians.[448]
[Sidenote: THE ESCORIAL.]
The motives which, after all, operated probably most powerfully on
Philip, had no connection with the battle of St. Quentin. His father,
the emperor, had directed by his will that his bones should remain at
Yuste, until a more suitable place should be provided for them by his
son. The building now to be erected was designed expressly as a
mausoleum for Philip's parents, as well as for their descendants of the
royal line of Austria. But the erection of a religious house on a
magnificent scale, that would proclaim to the world his devotion to the
Faith, was the predominant idea in the mind of Philip. It was, moreover,
a part of his scheme to combine in the plan a palace for himself; for,
with a taste which he may be said to have inherited from his father, he
loved to live in the sacred shadows of the cloister. These ideas,
somewhat incongruous as they may seem, were fully carried out by the
erection of an edifice dedicated at once to the threefold purpose of a
palace, a monastery, and a tomb.[449]
Soon after the king's return to Spain, he set about carrying his plan
into execution. The site which, after careful examination, he selected
for the building, was among the mountains of the Guadarrama, on the
borders of New Castile,[450] about eight leagues north-west of Madrid.
The healthiness of the place and its convenient distance from the
capital combined with the stern and solitary character of the region, so
congenial to his taste, to give it the preference over other spots,
which might have found more favour with persons of a different nature.
Encompassed by rude and rocky hills, which sometimes soar to the
gigantic elevation of mountains, it seemed to be shut out completely
from the world. The vegetation was of a thin and stunted growth, seldom
spreading out into the luxuriant foliage of the lower regions; and the
winds swept down from the neighbouring sierra with the violence of a
hurricane. Yet the air was salubrious, and the soil was nourished by
springs of the purest water. To add to its recommendations, a quarry,
close at hand, of excellent stone, somewhat resembling granite in
appearance, readily supplied the materials for building,--a
circumstance, considering the vastness of the work, of no little
importance.
The architect who furnished the plans, and on whom the king relied for
superintending their execution, was Juan-Bautista de Toledo. He was born
in Spain, and, early discovering uncommon talents for his profession,
was sent to Italy. Here he studied the principles of his art, under the
great masters who were then filling their native land with those
monuments of genius that furnished the best study to the artist. Toledo
imbibed their spirit, and under their tuition acquired that simple,
indeed severe taste, which formed a contrast to the prevalent tone of
Spanish architecture, but which, happily, found favour with his royal
patron.
Before a stone of the new edifice was laid, Philip had taken care to
provide himself with the tenants who were to occupy it. At a general
chapter of the Jeronymite fraternity, a prior was chosen for the convent
of the Escorial, which was to consist of fifty members, soon increased
to double that number. Philip had been induced to give the preference to
the Jeronymite order, partly from their general reputation for ascetic
piety, and in part from the regard shown for them by his father, who had
chosen a convent of that order as the place of his last retreat. The
monks were speedily transferred to the village of the Escorial, where
they continued to dwell until accommodations were prepared for them in
the magnificent pile which they were thenceforth to occupy.
Their temporary habitation was of the meanest kind, like most of the
buildings in the hamlet. It was without window or chimney, and the rain
found its way through the dilapidated roof of the apartment which they
used as a chapel; so that they were obliged to protect themselves by a
coverlet stretched above their heads. A rude altar was raised at one end
of the chapel, over which was scrawled on the wall, with charcoal, the
figure of a crucifix.[451]
The king, on his visits to the place, was lodged in the house of the
curate, in not much better repair than the other dwellings in the
hamlet. While there, he was punctual in his attendance at mass, when a
rude seat was prepared for him near the choir, consisting of a
three-legged stool, defended from vulgar eyes by a screen of such old
and tattered cloth that the inquisitive spectator might, without
difficulty, see him through the holes in it.[452] He was so near the
choir, that the monk who stood next to him could hardly avoid being
brought into contact with the royal person. The Jeronymite who tells the
story assures us that Brother Antonio used to weep as he declared that
more than once, when he cast a furtive glance at the monarch, he saw his
eyes filled with tears. "Such," says the good father, "were the devout
and joyful feelings with which the king, as he gazed on the poverty
around him, meditated his lofty plans for converting this poverty into a
scene of grandeur more worthy of the worship to be performed
there."[453]
The brethren were much edified by the humility shown by Philip when
attending the services in this wretched cabin. They often told the story
of his one day coming late to matins, when, unwilling to interrupt the
services, he quietly took his seat by the entrance, on a rude bench, at
the upper end of which a peasant was sitting. He remained some time
before his presence was observed, when the monks conducted him to his
tribune.[454]
On the twenty-third of April, 1563, the first stone of the monastery was
laid. On the twentieth of August following, the corner-stone of the
church was also laid, with still greater pomp and solemnity. The royal
confessor, the bishop of Cuenca, arrayed in his pontificals, presided
over the ceremonies. The king was present, and laid the stone with his
own hands. The principal nobles of the court were in attendance, and
there was a great concourse of spectators, both ecclesiastics and
laymen; the solemn services were concluded by the brotherhood, who
joined in an anthem of thanksgiving and praise to the Almighty, to whom
so glorious a monument was to be reared in this mountain
wilderness.[455]
[Sidenote: THE ESCORIAL.]
The rude sierra now swarmed with life. The ground was covered with tents
and huts. The busy hum of labour mingled with the songs of the
labourers, which, from their various dialects, betrayed the different,
and oftentimes distant, provinces from which they had come. In this
motley host the greatest order and decorum prevailed; nor were the
peaceful occupations of the day interrupted by any indecent brawls.
As the work advanced, Philip's visits to the Escorial were longer and
more frequent. He had always shown his love for the retirement of the
cloister, by passing some days of every year in it. Indeed, he was in
the habit of keeping Holy Week not far from the scene of his present
labours, at the convent of Guisando. In his present monastic retreat he
had the additional interest afforded by the contemplation of the great
work, which seemed to engage as much of his thoughts as any of the
concerns of government.
Philip had given a degree of attention to the study of the fine arts
seldom found in persons of his condition. He was a connoisseur in
painting, and, above all, in architecture, making a careful study of its
principles, and occasionally furnishing designs with his own hand.[456]
No prince of his time left behind him so many proofs of his taste and
magnificence in building. The royal mint at Segovia, the hunting-seat of
the Pardo, the pleasant residence of Aranjuez, the alcazar of Madrid,
the "Armeria Real," and other noble works which adorned his infant
capital, were either built or greatly embellished by him. The land was
covered with structures both civil and religious, which rose under the
royal patronage. Churches and convents--the latter in lamentable
profusion--constantly met the eye of the traveller. The general style of
their execution was simple in the extreme. Some, like the great
cathedral of Valladolid, of more pretension, but still showing the same
austere character in their designs, furnished excellent models of
architecture to counteract the meretricious tendencies of the age.
Structures of a different kind from these were planted by Philip along
the frontiers in the north and on the southern coasts of the kingdom;
and the voyager in the Mediterranean beheld fortress after fortress
crowning the heights above the shore, for its defence against the
Barbary corsair. Nor was the king's passion for building confined to
Spain. Wherever his armies penetrated in the semi-civilized regions of
the New World, the march of the conqueror was sure to be traced by the
ecclesiastical and military structures which rose in his rear.
Fortunately, similarity of taste led to the most perfect harmony between
the monarch and his architect, in their conferences on the great work
which was to crown the architectural glories of Philip's reign. The king
inspected the details, and watched over every step in the progress of
the building, with as much care as Toledo himself. In order to judge of
the effect from a distance, he was in the habit of climbing the
mountains at a spot about half a league from the monastery, where a kind
of natural chair was formed by the crags. Here, with his spyglass in his
hand, he would sit for hours, and gaze on the complicated structure
growing up below. The place is still known as the "king's seat."[457]
It was certainly no slight proof of the deep interest which Philip took
in the work, that he was content to exchange his palace at Madrid for a
place that afforded him no better accommodations than the
poverty-stricken village of the Escorial. In 1571 he made an important
change in these accommodations, by erecting a chapel which might afford
the monks a more decent house of worship than their old weather-beaten
hovel; and with this he combined a comfortable apartment for himself. In
these new quarters he passed still more of his time in cloistered
seclusion than he had done before. Far from confining his attention to
a supervision of the Escorial, he brought his secretaries and his papers
along with him, read here his despatches from abroad, and kept up a busy
correspondence with all parts of his dominions. He did four times the
amount of work here, says a Jeronymite, that he did in the same number
of days in the capital.[458] He used to boast that, thus hidden from the
world, with a little bit of paper, he ruled over both hemispheres. That
he did not always wisely rule, is proved by more than one of his
despatches relating to the affairs of Flanders, which issued from this
consecrated place. Here he received accounts of the proceedings of his
heretic subjects in the Netherlands, and of the Morisco insurgents in
Granada. And as he pondered on their demolition of church and convent,
and their desecration of the most holy symbols of the Catholic faith, he
doubtless felt a proud satisfaction in proving his own piety to the
world by the erection of the most sumptuous edifice ever dedicated to
the Cross.
In 1577, the Escorial was so far advanced towards its completion as to
afford accommodations not merely for Philip and his personal attendants,
but for many of the court, who were in the habit of spending some time
there with the king during the summer. On one of these occasions, an
accident occurred which had nearly been attended with most disastrous
consequences to the building.
A violent thunderstorm was raging in the mountains, and the lightning
struck one of the great towers of the monastery. In a short time the
upper portion of the building was in a blaze. So much of it,
fortunately, was of solid materials, that the fire made slow progress.
But the difficulty of bringing water to bear on it was extreme. It was
eleven o'clock at night when the fire broke out, and in the orderly
household of Philip all had retired to rest. They were soon roused by
the noise. The king took his station on the opposite tower, and watched
with deep anxiety the progress of the flames. The duke of Alva was one
among the guests. Though sorely afflicted with the gout at the time, he
wrapped his dressing-gown about him, and climbed to a spot which
afforded a still nearer view of the conflagration. Here the "good duke"
at once assumed the command, and gave his orders with as much promptness
and decision as on the field of battle.[459]
All the workmen, as well as the neighbouring peasantry, were assembled
there. The men showed the same spirit of subordination which they had
shown throughout the erection of the building. The duke's orders were
implicitly obeyed; and more than one instance is recorded of daring
self-devotion among the workmen, who toiled as if conscious they were
under the eye of their sovereign. The tower trembled under the fury of
the flames; and the upper portion of it threatened every moment to fall
in ruins. Great fears were entertained that it would crush the hospital,
situated in that part of the monastery. Fortunately, it fell in an
opposite direction, carrying with it a splendid chime of bells that was
lodged in it, but doing no injury to the spectators. The loss which bore
most heavily on the royal heart was that of sundry inestimable relics
which perished in the flames. But Philip's sorrow was mitigated when he
learned that a bit of the true cross, and the right arm of St. Lawrence,
the martyred patron of the Escorial, were rescued from the flames. At
length, by incredible efforts, the fire, which had lasted till six in
the morning, was happily extinguished, and Philip withdrew to his
chamber, where his first act, we are told, was to return thanks to the
Almighty for the preservation of the building consecrated to his
service.[460]
[Sidenote: THE ESCORIAL.]
The king was desirous that as many of the materials as possible for the
structure should be collected from his own dominions. These were so
vast, and so various in their productions, that they furnished nearly
every article required for the construction of the edifice, as well as
for its interior decoration. The grey stone, of which its walls were
formed, was drawn from a neighbouring quarry. It was called
_berroquena_,--a stone bearing a resemblance to granite, though not so
hard. The blocks hewn from the quarries, and dressed there, were of such
magnitude as sometimes to require forty or fifty yoke of oxen to drag
them. The jasper came from the neighbourhood of Burgo de Osma. The more
delicate marbles, of a great variety of colours, were furnished by the
mountain-ranges in the south of the Peninsula. The costly and elegant
fabrics were many of them supplied by native artisans. Such were the
damasks and velvets of Granada. Other cities, as Madrid, Toledo, and
Saragossa, showed the proficiency of native art in curious manufactures
of bronze and iron, and occasionally of the more precious metals.
Yet Philip was largely indebted to his foreign possessions, especially
those in Italy and the Low Countries, for the embellishment of the
interior of the edifice, which, in its sumptuous style of decoration,
presented a contrast to the stern simplicity of its exterior. Milan, so
renowned at that period for its fine workmanship in steel, gold, and
precious stones, contributed many exquisite specimens of art. The walls
were clothed with gorgeous tapestries from the Flemish looms. Spanish
convents vied with each other in furnishing embroideries for the altars.
Even the rude colonies in the New World had their part in the great
work, and the American forests supplied their cedar and ebony and
richly-tinted woods, which displayed all their magical brilliancy of
colour under the hands of the Castilian workman.[461]
Though desirous, as far as possible, to employ the products of his own
dominions, and to encourage native art, in one particular he resorted
almost exclusively to foreigners. The oil-paintings and frescoes which
profusely decorated the walls and ceilings of the Escorial were executed
by artists drawn chiefly from Italy, whose schools of design were still
in their glory. But of all living painters, Titian was the one whom
Philip, like his father, most delighted to honour. To the king's
generous patronage the world is indebted for some of that great master's
noblest productions, which found a fitting place on the walls of the
Escorial.
The prices which Philip paid enabled him to command the services of the
most eminent artists. Many anecdotes are told of his munificence. He
was, however, a severe critic. He did not prematurely disclose his
opinion. But when the hour came, the painter had sometimes the
mortification to find the work he had executed, it may be with greater
confidence than skill, peremptorily rejected, or at best condemned to
some obscure corner of the building. This was the fate of an Italian
artist, of much more pretension than power, who, after repeated failures
according to the judgment of the king--which later critics have not
reversed--was dismissed to his own country. But even here Philip dealt
in a magnanimous way with the unlucky painter. "It is not Zuccaro's
fault," he said, "but that of the persons who brought him here;" and
when he sent him back to Italy, he gave him a considerable sum of money
in addition to his large salary.[462]
Before this magnificent pile, in a manner the creation of his own taste,
Philip's nature appeared to expand, and to discover some approach to
those generous sympathies for humanity which elsewhere seemed to have
been denied him. He would linger for hours while he watched the labours
of the artist, making occasional criticisms, and laying his hand
familiarly on his shoulder.[463] He seemed to put off the coldness and
reserve which formed so essential a part of his character. On one
occasion, it is said, a stranger, having come into the Escorial when the
king was there, mistook him for one of the officials, and asked him some
questions about the pictures. Philip, without undeceiving the man,
humoured his mistake, and good-naturedly undertook the part of
_cicerone_, by answering his inquiries, and showing him some of the
objects most worth seeing.[464] Similar anecdotes have been told of
others. What is strange is, that Philip should have acted the part of
the good-natured man.
In 1584, the masonry of the Escorial was completed. Twenty-one years had
elapsed since the first stone of the monastery was laid. This certainly
must be regarded as a short period for the erection of so stupendous a
pile. St. Peter's church, with which one naturally compares it as the
building nearest in size and magnificence, occupied more than a century
in its erection, which spread over the reigns of at least eighteen
popes. But the Escorial, with the exception of the subterraneous chapel
constructed by Philip the Fourth for the burial-place of the Spanish
princes, was executed in the reign of one monarch. That monarch held in
his hands the revenues of both the Old World and the New; and as he
gave, in some sort, a personal supervision to the work, we may be sure
that no one was allowed to sleep on his post.
Yet the architect who designed the building was not permitted to
complete it. Long before it was finished, the hand of Toledo had
mouldered in the dust. By his death it seemed that Philip had met with
an irreparable loss. He felt it to be so himself; and with great
distrust consigned the important task to Juan de Herrera, a young
Asturian. But though young, Herrera had been formed on the best models;
for he was the favourite pupil of Toledo, and it soon appeared that he
had not only imbibed the severe and elevated tastes of his master, but
that his own genius fully enabled him to comprehend all Toledo's great
conceptions, and to carry them out as perfectly as that artist could
have done himself. Philip saw with satisfaction that he had made no
mistake in his selection. He soon conferred as freely with the new
architect as he had done with his predecessor. He even showed him
greater favour, settling on him a salary of a thousand ducats a year,
and giving him an office in the royal household, and the cross of St.
Iago. Herrera had the happiness to complete the Escorial. Indeed, he
lived some six years after its completion. He left several works, both
civil and ecclesiastical, which perpetuate his fame. But the Escorial is
the monument by which his name, and that of his master, Toledo, have
come down to posterity as those of the two greatest architects of whom
Spain can boast.
This is not the place for criticism on the architectural merits of the
Escorial. Such criticism more properly belongs to a treatise on art. It
has been my object simply to lay before the reader such an account of
the execution of this great work as would enable him to form some idea
of the object to which Philip devoted so large a portion of his time,
and which so eminently reflected his peculiar cast of mind.
[Sidenote: THE ESCORIAL.]
Critics have greatly differed from each other in their judgments of the
Escorial. Few foreigners have been found to acquiesce in the undiluted
panegyric of those Castilians who pronounce it the eighth wonder of the
world.[465] Yet it cannot be denied that few foreigners are qualified to
decide on the merits of a work, to judge of which correctly requires a
perfect understanding of the character of the country in which it was
built, and of the monarch who built it. The traveller who gazes on its
long lines of cold grey stone, scarcely broken by an ornament, feels a
dreary sensation creeping over him, while he contrasts it with the
lighter and more graceful edifices to which his eye has been accustomed.
But he may read in this the true expression of the founder's character.
Philip did not aim at the beautiful, much less at the festive and
cheerful. The feelings which he desired to raise in the spectator were
of that solemn, indeed sombre complexion, which corresponded best with
his own religious faith.
Whatever defects may be charged on the Escorial, it is impossible to
view it from a distance, and see the mighty pile as it emerges from the
gloomy depths of the mountains, without feeling how perfectly it
conforms in its aspect to the wild and melancholy scenery of the sierra.
Nor can one enter the consecrated precincts without confessing the
genius of the place, and experiencing sensations of a mysterious awe as
he wanders through the desolate halls, which fancy peoples with the
solemn images of the past.
The architect of the building was embarrassed by more than one
difficulty of a very peculiar kind. It was not simply a monastery that
he was to build. The same edifice, as we have seen, was to comprehend at
once a convent, a palace, and a tomb. It was no easy problem to
reconcile objects so discordant, and to infuse into them a common
principle of unity. It is no reproach to the builder that he did not
perfectly succeed in this, and that the palace should impair the
predominant tone of feeling raised by the other parts of the structure,
looking in fact like an excrescence, rather than an integral portion of
the edifice.
Another difficulty, of a more whimsical nature, imposed on the
architect, was the necessity of accommodating the plan of the building
to the form of a gridiron--as typical of the kind of martyrdom suffered
by the patron saint of the Escorial. Thus the long lines of cloisters,
with their intervening courts, served for the bars of the instrument.
The four lofty spires at the corners of the monastery, represented its
legs inverted; and the palace, extending its slender length on the east,
furnished the awkward handle.
It is impossible for language to convey any adequate idea of a work of
art. Yet architecture has this advantage over the sister arts of design,
that the mere statement of the dimensions helps us much in forming a
conception of the work. A few of these dimensions will serve to give an
idea of the magnitude of the edifice. They are reported to us by Los
Santos, a Jeronymite monk, who has left one of the best accounts of the
Escorial.
The main building, or monastery, he estimates at seven hundred and forty
Castilian feet in length by five hundred and eighty in breadth. Its
greatest height, measured to the central cross above the dome of the
great church, is three hundred and fifteen feet. The whole circumference
of the Escorial, including the palace, he reckons at two thousand nine
hundred and eighty feet, or near three-fifths of a mile. The patient
inquirer tells us there were no less than twelve thousand doors and
windows in the building; that the weight of the keys alone amounted to
fifty _arrobas_, or twelve hundred and fifty pounds, and, finally, that
there were sixty-eight fountains playing in the halls and courts of this
enormous pile.[466]
The cost of its construction and interior decoration, we are informed by
Father Siguenca, amounted to very near six millions of ducats.[467]
Siguenca was prior of the monastery, and had access, of course, to the
best sources of information. That he did not exaggerate, may be inferred
from the fact that he was desirous to relieve the building from the
imputation of any excessive expenditure incurred in its erection--a
common theme of complaint, it seems, and one that was urged with strong
marks of discontent by contemporary writers. Probably no single edifice
ever contained such an amount and variety of inestimable treasures as
the Escorial,--so many paintings and sculptures by the greatest
masters,--so many articles of exquisite workmanship, composed of the
most precious materials. It would be a mistake to suppose that, when the
building was finished, the labours of Philip were at an end. One might
almost say they were but begun. The casket was completed; but the
remainder of his days was to be passed in filling it with the rarest and
richest gems. This was a labour never to be completed. It was to be
bequeathed to his successors, who with more or less taste, but with the
revenues of the Indies at their disposal, continued to lavish them on
the embellishment of the Escorial.[468]
Philip the Second set the example. He omitted nothing which could give a
value, real or imaginary, to his museum. He gathered at an immense cost
several hundred cases of the bones of saints and martyrs, depositing
them in rich silver shrines, of elaborate workmanship. He collected four
thousand volumes, in various languages, especially the Oriental, as the
basis of the fine library of the Escorial.
The care of successive princes, who continued to spend there a part of
every year, preserved the palace-monastery and its contents from the
rude touch of Time. But what the hand of Time had spared, the hand of
violence destroyed. The French, who in the early part of the present
century swept like a horde of Vandals over the Peninsula, did not
overlook the Escorial. For in it they saw the monument designed to
commemorate their own humiliating defeat. A body of dragoons under La
Houssaye burst into the monastery in the winter of 1808; and the ravages
of a few days demolished what it had cost years and the highest efforts
of art to construct. The apprehension of similar violence from the
Carlists, in 1837, led to the removal of the finest paintings to Madrid.
The Escorial ceased to be a royal residence: tenantless and unprotected,
it was left to the fury of the blasts which swept down the hills of the
Guadarrama.
The traveller who now visits the place will find its condition very
different from what it was in the beginning of the century. The bare and
mildewed walls no longer glow with the magical tints of Raphael and
Titian, and the sober pomp of the Castilian school. The exquisite
specimens of art with which the walls were filled have been wantonly
demolished, or more frequently pilfered for the sake of the rich
materials. The monks, so long the guardians of the place, have shared
the fate of their brethren elsewhere, since the suppression of religious
houses, and their venerable forms have disappeared.
[Sidenote: QUEEN ANNE.]
Silence and solitude reign throughout the courts, undisturbed by any
sound save that of the ceaseless winds, which seem to be ever chanting
their melancholy dirge over the faded glories of the Escorial. There is
little now to remind one of the palace or of the monastery. Of the three
great objects to which the edifice was devoted, one alone
survives,--that of a mausoleum for the royal line of Castile. The spirit
of the dead broods over the place,--of the sceptred dead, who lie in the
same dark chamber where they have lain for centuries, unconscious of the
changes that have been going on all around them.
During the latter half of Philip's reign, he was in the habit of
repairing with his court to the Escorial, and passing here a part of the
summer. Hither he brought his young queen, Anne of Austria,--when the
gloomy pile assumed an unwonted appearance of animation. In a previous
chapter, the reader has seen some notice of his preparations for his
marriage with that princess, in less than two years after he had
consigned the lovely Isabella to the tomb. Anne had been already
plighted to the unfortunate Don Carlos. Philip's marriage with her
afforded him the melancholy triumph of a second time supplanting his
son. She was his niece; for the empress Mary, her mother, was the
daughter of Charles the Fifth. There was, moreover, a great disparity in
their years; for the Austrian princess, having been born in Castile
during the regency of her parents, in 1549, was at this time but
twenty-one years of age, less than half the age of Philip. It does not
appear that her father, the emperor Maximilian, made any objection to
the match. If he felt any, he was too politic to prevent a marriage
which would place his daughter on the throne of the most potent monarchy
in Europe.
It was arranged that the princess should proceed to Spain by the way of
the Netherlands. In September, 1570, Anne bade a last adieu to her
father's court, and with a stately retinue set out on her long journey.
On entering Flanders, she was received with great pomp by the duke of
Alva, at the head of the Flemish nobles. Soon after her arrival, Queen
Elizabeth despatched a squadron of eight vessels, with offers to
transport her to Spain, and an invitation for her to visit England on
her way. These offers were courteously declined; and the German
princess, escorted by Count Bossu, captain-general of the Flemish navy,
with a gallant squadron, was fortunate in reaching the place of her
destination after a voyage of less than a week. On the third of October
she landed at Santander, on the northern coast of Spain, where she found
the archbishop of Seville and the duke of Bejar, with a brilliant train
of followers, waiting to receive her.
Under this escort, Anne was conducted by the way of Burgos and
Valladolid to the ancient city of Segovia. In the great towns through
which she passed she was entertained in a style suited to her rank; and
everywhere along her route she was greeted with the hearty acclamations
of the people: for the match was popular with the nation; and the Cortes
had urged the king to expedite it as much as possible.[469] The
Spaniards longed for a male heir to the crown; and since the death of
Carlos, Philip had only daughters remaining to him.
In Segovia, where the marriage ceremony was to be performed, magnificent
preparations had been made for the reception of the princess. As she
approached that city, she was met by a large body of the local militia,
dressed in gay uniforms, and by the municipality of the place, arrayed
in their robes of office and mounted on horseback. With this brave
escort she entered the gates. The streets were ornamented with beautiful
fountains, and spanned by triumphal arches, under which the princess
proceeded, amidst the shouts of the populace, to the great
cathedral.[470]
Anne, then in the bloom of youth, is described as having a rich and
delicate complexion. Her figure was good, her deportment gracious, and
she rode her richly-caparisoned palfrey with natural ease and dignity.
Her not very impartial chronicler tells us that the spectators
particularly admired the novelty of her Bohemian costume, her riding-hat
gaily ornamented with feathers, and her short mantle of crimson velvet
richly fringed with gold.[471]
After _Te Deum_ had been chanted, the splendid procession took its way
to the far-famed _alcazar_, that palace-fortress, originally built by
the Moors, which now served both as a royal residence and as a place of
confinement for prisoners of state. Here it was that the unfortunate
Montigny passed many a weary month of captivity; and less than three
months had elapsed since he had been removed from the place which was so
soon to become the scene of royal festivity, and consigned to the fatal
fortress of Simancas, to perish by the hand of the midnight executioner.
Anne, it may be remembered, was said, on her journey through the Low
Countries, to have promised Montigny's family to intercede with her lord
in his behalf. But the king, perhaps willing to be spared the
awkwardness of refusing the first boon asked by his young bride,
disposed of his victim soon after her landing, while she was yet in the
north.
Anne entered the _alcazar_ amidst salvoes of artillery. She found there
the good Princess Joanna, Philip's sister, who received her with the
same womanly kindness which she had shown twelve years before to
Elizabeth of France, when, on a similar occasion, she made her first
entrance into Castile. The marriage was appointed to take place on the
following day, the fourteenth of November. Philip, it is said, obtained
his first view of his betrothed when, mingling in disguise among the
cavalcade of courtiers, he accompanied her entrance into the
capital.[472] When he had led his late queen, Isabella, to the altar,
some white hairs on his temples attracted her attention.[473] During the
ten years which had since elapsed, the cares of office had wrought the
same effect on him as on his father, and turned his head prematurely
grey. The marriage was solemnized with great pomp in the cathedral of
Segovia. The service was performed by the archbishop of Seville. The
spacious building was crowded to overflowing with spectators, among whom
were the highest dignitaries of the Church and the most illustrious of
the nobility of Spain.[474]
During the few days which followed, while the royal pair remained in
Segovia, the city was abandoned to jubilee. The auspicious event was
celebrated by public illuminations and by magnificent _fetes_, at which
the king and queen danced in the presence of the whole court, who stood
around in respectful silence.[475] On the eighteenth, the new-married
couple proceeded to Madrid, where such splendid preparations had been
made for their reception as evinced the loyalty of the capital.
As soon as the building of the Escorial was sufficiently advanced to
furnish suitable accommodations for his young queen, Philip passed a
part of every summer in its cloistered solitudes, which had more
attraction for him than any other of his residences. The presence of
Anne and her courtly train diffused something like an air of gaiety over
the grand but gloomy pile, to which it had been little accustomed. Among
other diversions for her entertainment, we find mention made of _autos
sacramentales_, those religious dramas that remind one of the ancient
Mysteries and Moralities which entertained our English ancestors. These
_autos_ were so much in favour with the Spaniards as to keep possession
of the stage longer than in most other countries; nor did they receive
their full development until they had awakened the genius of Calderon.
[Sidenote: QUEEN ANNE.]
It was a pen, however, bearing little resemblance to that of Calderon
which furnished these edifying dramas. They proceeded, probably, from
some Jeronymite gifted with a more poetic vein than his brethren. The
actors were taken from among the pupils in the seminary established in
the Escorial. Anne, who appears to have been simple in her tastes, is
said to have found much pleasure in these exhibitions, and in such
recreation as could be afforded her by excursions into the wild,
romantic country that surrounded the monastery. Historians have left us
but few particulars of her life and character,--much fewer than of her
lovely predecessor. Such accounts as we have, represent her as of an
amiable disposition, and addicted to pious works. She was rarely idle,
and employed much of her time in needlework, leaving many specimens of
her skill in this way in the decorations of the convents and churches. A
rich piece of embroidery, wrought by her hands and those of her maidens,
was long preserved in the royal chapel, under the name of "Queen Anne's
tapestry."
Her wedded life was destined not to be a long one,--only two years
longer than that of Isabella. She was blessed, however, with a more
numerous progeny than either of her predecessors. She had four sons and
a daughter. But all died in infancy or early childhood, except the third
son, who, as Philip the Third, lived to take his place in the royal
dynasty of Castile.
The queen died on the twenty-sixth of October, 1580, in the thirty-first
year of her age, and the eleventh of her reign. A singular anecdote is
told in connection with her death. This occurred at Badajoz, where the
court was then established, as a convenient place for overlooking the
war in which the country was at that time engaged with Portugal. While
there the king fell ill. The symptoms were of the most alarming
character. The queen, in her distress, implored the Almighty to spare a
life so important to the welfare of the kingdom and of the Church, and
instead of it to accept the sacrifice of her own. Heaven, says the
chronicler, as the result showed, listened to her prayer.[476] The king
recovered; and the queen fell ill of a disorder which in a few days
terminated fatally. Her remains, after lying in state for some time,
were transported with solemn pomp to the Escorial, where they enjoyed
the melancholy pre-eminence of being laid in the quarter of the
mausoleum reserved exclusively for kings and the mothers of kings. Such
was the end of Anne of Austria, the fourth and last wife of Philip the
Second.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] "Que ningun Moro ni Mora seran apremiados a ser Christianos contra
su voluntad; y que si alguna doncella, o casada, o viuda, por razon de
algunas se quisiere tornar Christiana, tampoco sera recebida, hasta ser
interrogada." See the original treaty as given _in extenso_ by Marmol,
Rebelion de los Moriscos (Madrid, 1797), tom. i. pp. 88-98.
[2] "Y que pues habian sido rebeldes, y por ello merecian pena de muerte
y perdimento de bienes, el perdon que les concediese fuese condicional,
con que se tornasen Christianos, o dexasen la tierra."--Ibid. p. 122.
[3] The reader curious in the matter will find a full account of it in
the History of Ferdinand and Isabella, part II. chapters 6, 7.
[4] Advertimientos de Don Geronimo Corella sobre la Conversion de los
Moriscos del Reyno de Valencia, MS.
[5] "Sin tratar de instruir a cada uno en particular ni de examinar los
ni saber su voluntad los baptizaron a manadas y de modo que algunos de
ellos, segun es fama, pusieron pleito que no les avia tocado el agua que
en comun les hechavan."--Ibid.
[6] Marmol, Rebelion de los Moriscos, tom. i. pp. 133-155.--Bleda,
Coronica de los Moros de Espana (Valencia, 1618), p.
656.--Advertimientos de Corella, MS.--Ferreras, Hist. Generale
d'Espagne, tom. ix. pp. 65, 68.--Vanderhammen, Don Juan de Austria, fol.
55.
The last writer says that, besides the largess to the emperor, the
Moriscoes were canny enough to secure the good-will of his ministers by
a liberal supply of doubloons to them also.--"Sirvieron al Emperador con
ochenta mil ducados. Aprovecholes esto, y buena suma de doblones que
dieron a los privados para que Carlos suspendiesse la execucion deste
acuerdo."
[7] Calderon, in his "Amar despues de la Muerte," has shed the
splendours of his muse over the green and sunny spots that glitter like
emeralds amidst the craggy wilds of the Alpujarras,
"Porque entre puntas y puntas
Hay valles que la hermosean,
Campos que la fertilizan,
Jardines que la deleitan.
Toda ella esta poblada
De villages y de aldeas;
Tal, que, cuando el sol se pono
A las vislumbres que deja,
Parecen riscos nacidos
Concavos entre las penas,
Que rodaron de la cumbre
Aunque a la falda no llegan."
[8] Senor de Gayangos, correcting a blunder of Casiri on the subject,
tells us that the Arabic name of the Alpujarras was _Al-busherat_,
signifying "mountains abounding in pastures."--See that treasure of
Oriental learning, the History of the Mohammedan Dynasties in Spain
(London, 1843), vol. ii. p. 515.
[9] Such was the exemption from certain duties paid by the Christians in
their trade with the Barbary coast--a singular and not very politic
provision.--"Que si los Moros que entraren debaxo de estas
capitulaciones y conciertos, quisieren ir con sus mercaderias a tratar y
contratar en Berberia, se les dara licencia para poderlo hacer
libremente, y lo mesmo en todos los lugares de Castilla y de la
Andalucia, sin pagar portazgos, ni los otros derechos que los
Christianos acostumbran pagar."--Marmol, Rebelion de los Moriscos, tom.
i. p. 93.
[10] Such is the opinion expressed by the author of the
"_Advertimientos_," whose remarks--having particular reference to
Valencia--are conceived in a spirit of candour, and of charity towards
the Moslems, rarely found in a Spaniard of the sixteenth century.--"De
donde," he says, "colije claramente que el no sanar estos enfermos hasta
agora no se puede imputar a ser incurable la enfermedad, si no a averse
errado la cura, y tambien se vee que hasta oy no estan bastamente
descargados delante de Dios nuestro Senor aquellos a quien toca este
negocio, pues no han puesto los medios que Christo nuestro Senor tiene
ordenados para la cura de este mal."--MS.
[11] "Forzandoles con injurias y penas pecuniarias y justiciando a
algunos de ellos."--Ibid.
Mendoza, speaking of a somewhat later period, just before the outbreak,
briefly alludes to the fact that the Inquisition was then beginning to
worry the Moriscoes more than usual:--"Porque la Inquisicion los comenzo
a apretar mas de lo ordinario."--Guerra de Granada (Valencia, 1776), p.
20.
[12] Marmol, Rebelion de los Moriscos, tom. i. p. 135.
[13] Ibid. tom. ii. p. 338.--Ordenanzas de Granada, fol. 375, ap.
Circourt, Hist. des Arabes d'Espagne (Paris, 1846), tom. ii. p. 267.
The penalty for violating the above ordinance was six years' hard labour
in the galleys. That for counterfeiting the stamp of the Mendoza arms
was death. _Vae victis!_
[14] The name of Mendoza, which occupied for so many generations a
prominent place in arms, in politics, and in letters, makes its first
appearance in Spanish history as far back as the beginning of the
thirteenth century.--Mariana, Historia de Espana, tom. i. p. 676.
[15] M. de Circourt in his interesting volumes, has given a minute
account--much too minute for these pages--of the first developments of
the insurrectionary spirit of the Moriscoes, in which he shows a very
careful study of the subject.--Hist. des Arabes d'Espagne, tom. ii. pp.
268 et seq.
[16] Ferreras, Hist. d'Espagne, tom. ix. p. 524.--Marmol, Rebelion de
los Moriscos, tom. i. p. 142.--Vanderhammen, Don Juan de Austria, fol.
55.
[17] Such was the judgment of the acute Venetian who, as one of the
train of the minister Tiepolo, obtained a near view of what was passing
in the court of Philip the Second.--"Levato di bassissimo stato dal re,
e posto in tanta grandezza in pochi anni, per esser huomo da bene,
libero et schietto, et perche S. M. vuol tener bassi li grandi di
Spagna, conoscendo l' altierissima natura loro."--Gachard, Relations des
Ambassadeurs Venitiens sur Charles-Quint et Philippe II. (Bruxelles,
1855), p. 175.
[18] This remarkable ordinance may be found in the Nueva Recopilacion
(ed. 1640), lib. viii. tit. 2, leyes 13-18.
The most severe penalties were those directed against the heinous
offence of indulging in warm baths. For a second repetition of this, the
culprit was sentenced to six years' labour in the galleys and the
confiscation of half his estates.
[19] "De los enemigos los menos."--Circourt gives a version of the whole
of the professor's letter, with his precious commentary on this text.
(Hist. des Arabes d'Espagne, tom. ii. p. 278.) According to Ferreras,
Philip highly relished the maxim of his ghostly counsellor.--Hist.
d'Espagne, tom. ix. p. 525.
[20] Cabrera, throwing the responsibility of the subsequent troubles on
Espinosa and Deza, sarcastically remarks that "two cowls had the
ordering of an affair which had been better left to men with helmets on
their heads."--Cabrera, Filipe Segundo, lib. vii, cap. 21.
[21] Marmol, Rebelion de los Moriscos, tom. i. pp. 147-151,--Circourt,
Hist. des Arabes d'Espagne, tom. ii. p. 283.--Ferreras, Hist. d'Espagne,
tom. ix. p. 535.
Dr. Salazar de Mendoza considers that nothing but a real love of
rebellion could have induced the Moriscoes to find a pretext for it in a
measure so just and praiseworthy, and every way so conducive to their
own salvation as this ordinance.--"Tomaron par achaque esta accion tan
justificada, y meritoria del Rey, y para sus almas tan provechosa y
saludable."--Monarquia de Espana, tom. ii. p. 137.
[22] "Y al fin concluyo con decirle resolutamente, que su Majestad
queria mas fe que farda, y que preciaba mas salvar una alma, que todo
quanto le podian dar le renta los Moriscos nuevamente
convertidos."--Marmol, Rebelion de los Moriscos, tom. i. p. 163.
[23] "Que el habia consultado aquel negocio con hombres de ciencia y
conciencia, y le decian que estaba obligado a hacer lo que
hacia."--Ibid. p. 175.
[24] "Que el negocio de la prematica estaba determinado, y su Magestad
resoluta en que se cumpliese."--Ibid, ubi supra.
[25] Ibid. p. 176.--Cabrera. Filipe Segundo, lib. vii. cap.
[26] "A estas y otras muchas razones que el marques de Mondejar daba,
Don Diego de Espinosa le respondio, que la voluntad de su Magestad era
aquella, y que se fuese al reyno de Granada, donde serio de mucha
importancia su persona, atropellando como siempre todas las dificultades
que le ponian por delante."--Marmol, Rebelion de los Moriscos, tom. i.
p. 168.
[27] An ordinance was passed at this time that the Moriscoes who had
come from the country to reside with their families in Granada should
leave the city and return whence they came, under pain of
death.--(Marmol, Rebelion de los Moriscos, tom. i. p. 169.) By another
ordinance, the Moriscoes were required to give up their children between
the ages of three and fifteen, to be placed in schools and educated in
the Christian doctrine and the Castillan tongue. (Ibid. p. 170.) The
_Nueva Recopilacion_ contains two laws passed about this time, making it
a capital offence to hold any intercourse with Turks or Moors who might
visit Granada, even though they came not as corsairs, but for purposes
of traffic. (Lib. viii. tit. 26, leyes 16, 18.) Such a law proves the
constant apprehensions in which the Spaniards lived of a treasonable
correspondence between their Morisco subjects and the foreign Moslems.
[28] Marmol Rebelion de los Moriscos, tom. i. pp. 223-233.--Mendoza,
Guerra de Granada (Valencia, 1776), p. 43.--Hita, Guerras de Granada,
tom. ii. p. 724.
[29] "Escrita en noches de augustia y de lagrimas corrientes,
sustentadas con esperanza, y la esperanza deriva de la
amargura."--Marmol, Rebelion de los Moriscos, tom. i. p. 219.
[30] Marmol, Rebelion de los Moriscos, tom. i. p. 235.
[31]
"La furia horrible de los torbellinos
Cada momento mas se vee yr creciendo;
Cubre la blanca nieve les caminos,
Tambien los hombres luego va cubriendo."
So sings, or rather says, the poet-chronicler Rufo, whose epic of four
and twenty cantos shows him to have been much more of a chronicler than
a poet. Indeed, in his preface, he avows that strict conformity to truth
which is the cardinal virtue of the chronicler.--See the Austriada
(Madrid, 1584).
[32] "Pocos sois, i venis presto."--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, p. 47.
Hita gives a _cancion_ in his work, the burden of which is a complaint
that the mountaineers had made their attack too late instead of too
early:--
"Pocos sois, y venis tarde."
(Guerras de Granada, tom. ii. p. 32.) The difference is explained by the
circumstance that the author of the verses--probably Hita
himself--considers that Christmas Eve, not New Year's Eve, was the time
fixed for the assault.
[33] Marmol, Rebelion de los Moriscos, tom. i. p. 238.--Mendoza, Guerra
de Granada, pp. 45-52.--Miniana, Hist. de Espana, p. 367.--Herrera,
Historia General, tom. i. p. 726.--Ferreras, Hist. d'Espagne, tom. ix
pp. 573-575.
[34] "Creyendo que lo uno y lo otro seria parte para que por bien de paz
se diese nueva orden en lo de la prematica, sin aventurar ellos sus
personas y haciendas."--Marmol, Rebelion de los Moriscos, tom. i. p.
239.
[35] Beni Umeyyah, in the Arabic, according to an indisputable
authority, my learned friend Don Pascual de Gayangos. See his Mohammedan
Dynasties in Spain, _passim_.
[36] "Era mancebo de veinte y dos anos, de poca barba, color moreno,
verdinegro, cejijunto, ojos negros y grandes, gentil hombre de cuerpo:
mostraba en su talle y garbo ser de sangre real, como en verdad lo era,
teniendo los pensamientos correspondientes."--Hita, Guerras de Granada,
tom. ii. p. 13.
Few will be disposed to acquiesce in the savage tone of criticism with
which the learned Nic. Antonio denounces Hita's charming volumes as
"Milesian tales, fit only to amuse the lazy and the listless."
(Bibliotheca Nova, tom. i. p. 536.) Hita was, undoubtedly, the prince of
romancers; but fiction is not falsehood; and when the novelist, who
served in the wars of the Alpujarras, tells us of things which he
professes to have seen with his own eyes, we may surely cite him as an
historical authority.
[37] "Usava de blandura general; queria ser tenido por Cabeza, i no por
Rei: la crueldad, la codicia cubierta engano a muchos en los
principios."--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, p. 129.
[38] Ibid. p. 40.
The ceremonies of the coronation make, of course, a brave show in Rufo's
epic. One stanza will suffice:--
"Entonces con aplauso le pusieron
Al nuevo Rey de purpura un vestido,
Y a manera de beca le cineron
Al cuello y ombros un cendal brunido,
Quatro vanderas a sus pies tendieron,
Una hazia el Levante esclarecido,
Otra a do el sol se cubre en negro velo,
Y otras dos a los polos dos del cielo."
La Austriada, fol. 24.
[39] "Tal era la antigua ceremonia con que eligian los reyes de la
Andalucia, i despues los de Granada."--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, p.
40.
[40]
"Que en la agricultura tienen
Tal estudio, tal destreza,
Que a preneces de su hazada
Hacen fecundas las piedras."
Calderon, Amar despues de la Muerte, Jornada ii.
[41]
"Tres anos tuvo en silencio
Esta traicion encubierta
Tanto numero de gentes,
Cosa, que admira y eleva."--Ibid, ubi supra.
[42] "Una cosa mui de notar califica los principios desta rebelion, que
gente de mediana condicion mostrada a guardar poco secreto i hablar
juntos, callasen tanto tiempo, i tantos hombres, en tierra donde hai
Alcaldes de corte i Inquisidores, cuya profesion es descubrir
delitos."--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, p. 36.
[43] Bleda, Cronica de Espana, p. 680--"Robaron la iglesia, hicieron
pedazos los retablos y imagines, destruyeron todas las cosas sagradas, y
no dexaron maldad ni sacrilegio que no cometieron."--Marmol, Rebelion de
Granada, tom. i. p. 275.
[44] "Quemaron por voto un convento de Frailes Augustinos, que se
recogieron a la Torre echandoles por un horado de lo alto azeite
hirviendo: sirviendose de la abundancia que Dios les dio en aquella
tierra, para ahogar sus Frailes."--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, p. 60.
[45] Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 271.--Ferreras, Hist.
d'Espagne, tom. ix. P. 582.
[46] "Y para darle mayor tormento traxeron alli dos hermanas doncellas
que tenia, para que le viesen morir, y en su presencia las vituperaron y
maltrataron."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 316.
[47] "Llego un herege a el con una navaja, y le persino con ella,
hendiendole el rostro de alto abaxo, y por traves; y luego le despedazo
coyuntura por coyuntura, y miembro a miembro."--Ibid. p. 348.
Among other kinds of torture which they invented, says Mendoza, they
filled the curate of Manena with gunpowder, and then blew him
up.--Guerra de Granada, p. 60.
[48] Of all the Spanish historians no one discovers so insatiable an
appetite for these horrors as Ferreras, who has devoted nearly fifty
quarto pages to an account of the diabolical cruelties practised by the
Moriscoes in this persecution--making, altogether, a momentous
contribution to the annals of Christian martyrologv. One may doubt,
however, whether the Spaniards are entirely justified in claiming the
crown of martyrdom for all who perished in this persecution. Those,
undoubtedly, have a right to it who might have saved their lives by
renouncing their faith; but there is no evidence that this grace was
extended to all; and we may well believe that the Moriscoes were
stimulated by other motives besides those of a religious nature,--such
motives as would naturally operate on a conquered race, burning with
hatred of their conquerors and with the thirst of vengeance for the
manifold wrongs which they had endured.
[49] "Murieron en pocos mas de quatro dias, con muertes exquesitas y no
imaginados tormentos, mas de tres mil martires."--Vanderhammen, Don Juan
de Austria, fol. 70.
[50] "Se adelanto un Moro, que solia ser grande amigo suyo, y haciendose
encontradizo con el en el umbral de la puerta, le atraveso una espada
por el cuerpo, diciendole: Toma, amigo, que mas vale que te mate yo que
otro."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 277.
[51] Ferreras, Hist. d'Espagne, tom. ix. p. 617.
[52] "Fue gran testimonio de nuestra fe i de compararse con la del
tiempo de los Apostoles; que en tanto numero de gente como murio a manos
de infieles ninguno huvo que quisiese renegar."--Mendoza, Guerra de
Granada, p. 61.
[53] "Todos estuvieron tan constantes en la fe, que si bien fueron
combidados con grandes riquezas y bienes a que la dejasen, con ninguno
se pudo acabar; aunque entre los martyrizados huvo muchas mugeres,
ninos, y hombres que havian vivido descompuestamente."--Salazar de
Mendoza, Monarquia de Espana, tom. ii. p. 139.
[54] "Murieron este dia en Uxixar docientos y quarenta Christianos
clerigos y legos, y entre ellos seis canonigos de aquella iglesia, que
es colegial."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 297.
[55] "Estavan las casas yermas i tiendas cerradas, suspenso el trato,
mudadas las horas de oficios divinos i humanos; atentos los Religiosos i
ocupados en oraciones i plegarias, como se suele en tiempo i punto de
grandes peligros."--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, p. 54.
Mendoza paints the panic of Granada with the pencil of Tacitus.
[56] Circourt, Hist. des Arabes d'Espagne, tom. ii. p. 322.
[57] "En un punto se mudaron todos los oficios y tratos en soldadesca,
tanto que los relatores, secretarios, letrados, procuradores de la
Audiencia entraban con espadas en los estrados, y no dexaban de pareseer
muy bien en aquella coyuntura."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p.
358.
[58] "Servian tres meses pagados por sus pueblos enteramente, i seis
meses adelante pagavan los pueblos la mitad, i otra mitad el
Rei."--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, p. 53.
[59] Mendoza, with a few vigorous touches, has sketched, or rather
sculptured in bold relief, the rude and rapacious character of the
Andalusian soldiery.--"Mal pagada i por esto no bien disciplinada;
mantenida del robo, i a trueco de alcanzar o conservar este mucha
libertad, poca verguenza, i menos honra."--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada,
p. 103.
[60] "Toda gente lucida y bien arreada a punto de guerra, que cierto
representaban la pompa y nobleza de sus ciudades."--Marmol, Rebelion de
Granada, tom. i. p. 396.
[61]
"Muchos capitanos fuertes,
muchos lucidos soldados,
ricos banderas tendidas,
y su estandarte dorado."
Hita, Guerras de Granada, tom. ii. p. 63.
[62] Circourt, Hist. des Arabes d'Espagne, tom. ii. p. 326.
Seville alone furnished two thousand troops, with one of the most
illustrious cavaliers of the city at their head. They did not arrive,
however, till a later period of the war.--See Zuniga, Annales de Sevilla
(Madrid, 1677, fol.), p. 533.
[63] "Repartio los lugares de la vega en siete partidos, y mandoles, que
cada uno tuviese cuidado de llevar diez mil panes amasados de a dos
libras al campo el dia que le tocase de la semana."--Marmol, Rebelion de
Granada, tom. i. p. 404.
[64] "Paso este negocio tan adelante, que muchos Moriscos afrentados y
gastados se arrepintieron por no haber tomado las armas cuando Abenfarax
los llamaba."--Ibid. p. 407.
[65] "Apenas podia ir por ella un hombre suelto; y aun este poco paso,
le tenian descavado y solapado por los cimientos, de manera que si
cargase mas de una persona, fuese abaxo."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada,
p. 409.
[66] "Mas un bendito frayle de la orden del serafico padre San
Francisco, llamado fray Christoval de Molina, con un crucifixo en la
mano izquierda, y la espada desnuda en la derecha, los habitos cogidos
en la cinta, y una rodela echada a las espaldas, invocando el poderoso
nombre de Jesus, llego al peligroso paso, y se metio determinadamente
por el."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 410.
[67] Ibid. p. 410, et seq.--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, pp. 67,
68.--Herrera, Historia General, tom. i. p. 736.
Hita has commemorated the bold passage of the bridge at Tablate in one
of the _romances_, or ballads, with which he has plentifully besprinkled
the second volume of his work, and which present a sorry contrast to the
ballads in the preceding volume. These, which form part of the popular
minstrelsy of an earlier age, have all the raciness and flavour that
belong to the native wild-flower of the soil. The ballads in the second
volume are, probably, the work of Hita himself,--poor imitations of the
antique, and proving that, if his rich and redundant prose is akin to
poetry, his poetry is still nearer allied to prose.
[68] "Estuvo alli aquella noche a vista de los enemigos, que teniendo
ocupado el paso con grandes fuegos por aquellos cerros, no hacian sino
tocar sus atabalejos, dulzaynas, y xabecas, haciendo algazaras para
atemorizar nuestros Cristianos, que con grandisimo recato estuvieron
todos con las armas en las manos."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i.
p. 413.
[69] Ibid. p. 414.--Herrera, Historia General, tom. i. p. 737.--Bleda,
Cronica de Espana, p. 684.--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, pp. 69,
70.--Ferreras, Hist. d'Espagne, tom. x. p. 17.
[70] "A la mano derecha cubiertos con un sierro, havia emboscados
quinientos arcabuceros i vallesteros, demas desto otra emboscada en lo
hondo del barranco de mucho mayor numero de gente."--Mendoza, Guerra de
Granada, tom. i. p. 71.
[71] "Ellos quando pensaron que nuestra gente iva cansada acometieron
por la frente, por el costado, i por la retaguardia, todo a un tiempo;
de manera que quasi una hora se peleo con ellos a todas partes i a las
espaldas, no sin igualdad i peligro."--Ibid. ubi supra.
[72] This poison was extracted from the aconite, or wolf's-bane, that
grew rife among the Alpujarras. It was of so malignant a nature that the
historian assures us that, if a drop mingled with the blood flowing from
a wound, the virus would ascend the stream and diffuse itself over the
whole system! Quince-juice was said to furnish the best
antidote.--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, tom. i. pp. 73, 74.
[73] Ibid. pp. 71-74.--Cabrera, Filipe Segundo, p. 554.--Marmol,
Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. pp. 416-418.--Herrera, Historia General,
tom. i. p. 737.--Bleda, Cronica de Espana, p. 684.
[74] "Mas la priesa de caminar en siguimiento de los enemigos, i la
falta de bagages en que la cargar i gente con que aseguralla, fue causa
de quemar la mayor parte, porque ellos no se aprovechasen."--Mendoza,
Guerra de Granada, p. 75.
[75] "Los Moros tomaron lo alto de la sierra, y no pararon hasta meterse
en la nieve, donde perecieron cantidad de mugeres y de criatura de
frio."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 437.
[76] "El Marques les dio a saco todo el mueble, en que habia ricas cosas
de seda, oro, plata, y aljofar, de que cupo la mejor y mayor parte a los
que habian ido delante."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 444.
[77] "No tomen, senores, a vida hombre ni muger de aquestos hereges, que
tan malos han sido, y tanto mal nos han hecho."--Ibid. p. 440.
[78] "El Marques se enternecio de ver aquellas pobres mugeres tan
lastimadas, y consolandolas lo mejor que pudo," &c.--Ibid, ubi supra.
[79] "Hubo muchos soldados heridos, los mas que se herian unos a otros,
entendiendo los que venian de fuera, que los que martillaban con las
espadas eran Moros, porque solamente les alumbraba el centellear del
acero, y el relampaguear de la polvora de los arcabuces en la tenebrosa
escuridad de la noche."--Ibid. p. 445.
[80] "De los Moriscos quasi ninguno quedo vivo, de las Moriscas huvo
muchas muertas, de los nuestros algunos heridos, que con la escuridad de
la noche se hacian dano unos a otros."--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, p.
77.
[81] Ibid. ubi supra.--Bleda, Cronica de Espana, p. 685.--Herrera,
Historia General, tom. i. p. 787.--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i.
p. 441 et seq.--Cabrera, Filipe Segundo, p. 558.
[82] "Habia entre ellas muchas duenas nobles, apuestas y hermosas
doncellas, criadas con mucho regalo, que iban desnudas y descalzas, y
tan maltratadas del trabajo del captiverio y del camino, que no solo
quebraban los corazones a los que las conocian, mas aun a quien no las
habia visto."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 448.
[83] "Y volviendo a las casas del Arzobispo, las que tenian parientes
las llevaron a sus posadas, y las otras fueron hospedadas con caridad
entre la buena gente, y de limosna se les compro de vestir y de
calzar."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. ubi supra.
[84] "Los soldados no podian llevar a paciencia ver que se tratase de
medios con los rebeldes; y quando otro dia se supo que los admitia, fue
tan grande la tristeza en el campo, como si hubieran perdido la
jornada."--Ibid. p. 443.
[85] Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 455.
[86] Abderrahman--or, as spelt by Gayangos, Abdu-r-rhaman--the First,
the founder of the dynasty from which Aben-Humeya claimed his descent,
took refuge in Spain from a bloody persecution, in which every member of
his numerous family is said to have perished by the scimitar or the
bowstring.
[87] "Y como vio que los Christanos iban la sierra arriba, y que los
suyos huian desvergonzadamente, entendiendo que todo lo que Don Alonso
Venegas trataba era engano, echo las cartas en el suelo, y subiendo a
gran priesa en un caballo, dexo su familia atras, y huyo tambien la
vuelta de la sierra."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 460.
[88] Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 458 et seq.--Ferreras,
Hist. d'Espagne, tom. x. PP. 28-31.--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, pp. 80,
81.--Cabrera, Filipe Segundo, pp. 560, 561.--Herrera, Historia General,
tom. i. p. 737.
[89] The decision referred to was, probably, one in the last Council of
Toledo, A.D. 690.--See Mariana, Hist. de Espana, tom. i. p. 452.
[90] I quote the words of Marmol:--"Con una moderacion piadosa, de que
quiso usar como principe considerado y justo."--Rebelion de Granada,
tom. i. p. 495.
[91] Ibid. ubi supra.
[92] Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. pp. 465, 498.
Mendoza says they were all returned:--"a thing never before seen,
whether it arose from fear or obedience, or that there was such an
abundance of women that they were regarded as little better than
household furniture."--Guerra de Granada, p. 96.
[93] "Fue tanta la indignacion del Margues de Mondejar, que, sin
perdonar a ninguna edad ni sexo, mando pasar a cuchillo hombres y
mugeres, quantos habia en el fuerte; y en su presencia los hacia matar a
los alabarderos de su guardia, que no bastaban los ruegos de los
caballeros y capitanes, ni las piadosas lagrimas de las que pedian la
miserable vida."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 493.
[94] Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 482 et seq.--Mendoza,
Guerra de Granada, pp. 85-95.--Ferreras, Hist. d'Espagne, tom. x. pp.
32-36.--Bleda, Cronica de Espana, p. 688 et seq.--Herrera, Historia
General, tom. i. p. 738.--Cabrera, Filipe Segundo, p. 589.
The storming of Guajaras is a favorite theme with both chroniclers and
bards. Among the latter Hita has not failed to hang his garland of verse
on the tombs of more than one illustrious cavalier who perished in that
bloody strife, and for whose loss "all the noble dames of Seville," as
he tells us, "went into mourning."--Guerras de Granada, tom. ii. pp.
112-118.
[95] "Que no habia osado parar en la Alpuxarra, y con solos cincuenta o
sesenta hombres, que le seguian, andaba huyendo de pena en
pena."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 464.
[96] The Castillian chronicler Marmol refuse his admission--somewhat
roughly expressed--to this brave Morisco,-"este barbaro," as he calls
him, "hijo de aspereza y frialdad indomable, y menospreciador de la
muerte."--(Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 503.) The story of
the escape of Aben-Humeya is also told, and with little discrepancy, by
Cabrera (Filipe Segundo, p. 573), and Ferreras (Hist. d'Espagne, tom. x.
pp. 39, 40).
[97] "Quando entendieron que peleaban contra el campo del Marques de los
Velez, a quien los Moros de aquella tierra solian llamar Ibiliz Arraez
el Hadid, que quiere decir, _diabolo cabeza de hierro_, perdieron
esperanza de vitoria."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 451.
Hita, who was a native of Murcia, and followed Los Velez to the war,
gives an elaborate portrait of this powerful chief, whom he extols as
one of the most valiant captains in the world, rivalling in his
achievements the Cid, Bernardo del Carpio, or any other hero of greatest
renown in Spain.--Guerras de Granada, tom. ii. p. 68 et seq.
[98] Circourt, Hist. des Arabes d'Espagne, tom. ii. p. 346.
[99] "Mas mugeres que hombres," says Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, p. 83.
[100] "En menos de dos horas fueron muertas mas de seis mil personas
entre hombres y mugeres; y de ninos, desde uno hasta diez anos, habia
mas de dos mil degollados."--Hita, Guerras de Granada, tom. ii. p. 126.
We may hope this is an exaggeration of the romancer. Mendoza says
nothing of the children, and reduces the slain to seven hundred. But
Hita was in the action.
[101] "La soldadesca que andaba suelta por el lugar cometio crueldades
inauditas, y que la pluma se resiste a transcribir."--Ibid. p. 125.
[102] "El nino arrastrando como pudo se llego a ella, y movido del deseo
de mamar, se asio de los pechos de la madre, sacando leche mezclada con
la sangre de las heridas."--Hita, Guerras de Granada, p. 126.
[103] "Advirtiendo al mismo tiempo que hay tres mil hombres paisanos
suyos puestos sobre las armas, y decididos a perder la vida por
salvarle."--Ibid. p. 132.
[104] Hita has devoted one of the most spirited of his _romances_ to the
rout of Ohanez. The opening stanza may show the tone of it:--
"Las tremolantes banderas
del grande Fajardo parten
para las Nevadas Sierras,
y van camino de Ohanez.
Ay de Ohanez!"
[105] "Todos los caballeros y capitanes en la procesion armados de todas
sus armas, con velas de cera blanca en las manos, que se las habian
enviado para aquel dia desde su casa, y todas las Christianas en medio
vestidas de azul y blanco, que por ser colores aplicados a nuestra
Senora, mando el Marques que las vistiesen de aquella manera a su
costa."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 469.
[106] "Trayendose muchas Moras hermosas, pues pasaron de trescientas las
que se tomaron alli; y habiendolas tenido los soldados a su voluntad mas
de quince dias, al cabo de ellos mando el marques que llevasen a la
iglesia."--Hita, Guerras de Granada, tom. ii. p. 155.
[107] "Por manera que estaba la Alpuxarra tan llana, que diez y doce
soldados iban de unos lugares en otros, sin hallar quien los
enojase."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 498.
Mendoza fully confirms Marmol's account of the quiet state of the
country.--Guerra de Granada, pp. 96, 97.
[108] "Le suplicase de su parte los admitiese, habiendose
misericordiosamente con los que no fuesen muy culpados, para que el
pudiese cumplir la palabra que tenia ya dada a los reducidos,
entendiendo ser aquel camino el mas breve para acabar con ellos por la
via de equidad."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 483.
[109] "Que hiciese por su parte lo que pudiese, porque ansi haria el de
la suya."--Ibid. p. 470.
[110] "Dexar sin castigo exemplar a quien tantos crimenes habian
cometido contra la Magestad _divina y humana_."--Marmol, Rebelion de
Granada, p. 499.
[111] "El Marques," says Mendoza, "hombre de estrecha i rigurosa
disciplina, criado al favor de su abuelo i padre en gran oficio, sin
igual ni contradictor, impaciente de tomar compania, communicava sus
consejos consigo mismo."--Guerra de Granada, p. 103.
[112] Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, p. 115 et seq.--Marmol, Rebelion de
Granada, tom. i. pp. 511-513.--Miniana, Historia de Espana, p.
376.--Cabrera, Filipe Segundo, pp. 573, 574.
[113] Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. ii. p. 8 et seq.--Mendoza,
Guerra de Granada, pp. 97, 128.--Miniana, Historia de Espana, p.
376.--Cabrera, Filipe Segundo, pp. 575, 576.
[114] "Otros, como desesperados, juntando esteras, tascos, y otras cosas
secas, que pudiesen arder, so metian entre sus mesmas llamas, y las
avivaban, para que, ardiendo la carcel y la Audiencia, pereciesen todos
los que estaban dentro."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 517.
[115] Ibid. ubi supra.
[116] "Los mataron a todos, sin dexar hombre a vida, sino fueron los dos
que defendio la guardia que tenian."--Ibid. ubi supra. See also Mendoza,
Guerra de Granada, p. 122; Herrera, Historia General, tom. i. p. 744.
[117] "Havia en ellos culpados en platicas i demonstraciones, i todos en
deseo; gente flaca, liviana, inhabil para todo, sino para dar ocasion a
su desventura."--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, p. 122.
[118] "Las culpas de los quales debieron ser mayores de lo que aqui se
escribe, porque despues pidiendo las mugeres y hijos de los muertos sus
dotes y haciendas ante los alcaldes del crimen de aquella Audiencia, y
saliendo el fiscal a la causa, se formo proceso en forma; y por
sentencias y revista fueron condenados, y aplicados todos sus bienes al
real fisco."--Marmol, Rebelion de Granada, tom. i. p. 517.
[119] "Levanto un estandarte bermejo, que mostrava el lugar de la
persona del Rei a manera de Guion."--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, p. 118.
[120] "Para seguridad de su persona pago arcabuceria de guardia, que fue
creciendo hasta quatrocientos hombres."--Mendoza, Guerra de Granada, ubi
supra.
[121] "Siguio nuestra orden de guerra, repartio la gente por escuadras,
juntola en companias, nombro capitanes."--Ibid. ubi supra.
[122] This, which is two years later than the date commonly assigned by
historians, seems to be settled by the researches of Lafuente. (See
Historia General de Espana (Madrid, 1854), tom. xiii. p. 437, note.)
Among other evidence adduced by the historian is that of a medal struck
in honour of Don John's victory at Lepanto, in the year 1571, the
inscription on which expressly states that he was twenty-four years of
age.
[123] Vanderhammen, Don Juan de Austria, fol 3.--Villafane, Vida y
Virtudes de Dona Magdalena de Ulloa (Salamanca, 1722), p. 36.--See also
Lafuente, Historia de Espana, tom. xiii. p. 432.
This last historian has made the parentage of John of Austria the
subject of a particular discussion in the Revista de Ambos Mundos, No.
3.
[124] Vanderhammen, alluding to the doubts thrown on the rank of his
hero's mother, consoles himself with the reflection that, if there was
any deficiency in this particular, no one can deny that it was more than
compensated by the proud origin of her imperial lover.--Don Juan de
Austria, fol. 3.
[125] Lafuente, Hist. de Espana, tom. xiii. p. 432, note.
[126] Gachard, Retraite et Mort de Charles-Quint, tom. ii. p. 506.
In a private interview with Luis Quixada, the evening before his death,
the emperor gave him six hundred gold crowns to purchase the
above-mentioned pension.
[127] This interesting document was found among the testamentary papers
of Charles the Fifth. A copy of it has been preserved among the
manuscripts of Cardinal Granvelle.--Papiers d'Etat, tom. iv. pp. 499,
500.
[128] "Gastava buena parte del dia en tirar con una ballestilla a los
paxaros."--Vanderhammen, Don Juan de Austria, fol. 10.
[129] "Y puede ser llegase a sospechar, si acaso tendria por padre a su
esposo."--Villefane, Vida de Magdalena de Ulloa, p. 38.
[130] "Accion singular y rara, y que dexa atras quantas la antiguedad
celebra por peregrinas."--Vanderhammen, Don Juan de Austria, fol. 31.
According to another biographer, two fires occurred to Quixada, one in
Villagarcia and one in Valladolid. On each of these occasions the house
was destroyed, but his ward was saved, borne off by the good knight in
his arms. (Villafane, Vida de Magdalena de Ulloa, pp. 44, 53.) The
coincidences are too much opposed to the doctrine of chances to commend
themselves readily to our faith. Vanderhammen's reflection was drawn
forth by the second fire, the only one he notices. It applies, however,
equally well to both.
[131] Vanderhammen, Don Juan de Austria, fol. 16.
[132] Indeed, Siguenza, who may have had it from the monks of Yuste,
tells us that the boy sometimes was casually seen by the emperor, who
was careful to maintain his usual reserve and dignified demeanour; so
that no one could suspect his secret. "Once or twice," adds the
Jeronymite father, "the lad entered the apartment of his father, who
doubtless spoke to him as he would have spoken to any other
boy."--Historia de la Orden de San Geronimo, tom. iii. p. 205.
[133] Relation d'un Religieux de Yuste, ap. Gachard, Retraite et Mort de
Charles-Quint, tom. ii. p. 55.
[134] "Hallo tan publico aqui lo que toca aquella persona que V. Mtad
sabe que esta a mi cargo que me ha espantado, y espantame mucho mas las
particularidades que sobrello oyo."--Ibid. tom. i. p. 449.
[135] A copy of this interesting document was found in the collection of
Granvelle at Besancon, and has been lately published in the beautiful
edition of the cardinal's papers.--Papiers d'Etat, tom. iv. p. 495 et
seq.
[136] "Que pues su Mtad, en su testamento ni codecilo, no hazia memoria
del, que era razon tenello por burla, y que no sabia que poder responder
otra cosa, en publico ni en secreto."--Gachard, Retraite et Mort de
Charles-Quint, tom. i. p. 446.
[137] "La Princesa al punto arrebatada del amor, lo abraco, y beso, sin
reparar en el lugar que estava, y el acto que exercia. Llamole hermano y
tratole de alteza."--Vanderhammen, Don Juan de Austria, fol. 23.
[138] "Llego el caso a estado, que le huvo de tomar en bracos el Conde
Osorno hasta la carroca de la Princesa, porque le gozassen
todos."--Vanderhammen, Don Juan de Austria, fol. 25.
The story must be admitted to be a strange one, considering the
punctilious character of the Castilian court, and the reserved and
decorous habits of Joanna. But the author, born and bred in the palace,
had access, as he tells us, to the very highest sources of information,
oral and written.
[139] "Vuelto ya en si de la suspension primera, alargo la mano, y monto
en el caballo; y aun se dice que con airosa grandeza, anadio; Pues si
eso es asi tened el estribo."--Villafane, Vida de Dona Magdalena de
Ulloa, p. 51.