OF COUNT JULIAN.
For a time Don Roderick lived happily with his young and beautiful queen,
and Toledo was the seat of festivity and splendour. The principal nobles
throughout the kingdom repaired to his court to pay him homage, and to
receive his commands; and none were more devoted in their reverence than
those who were obnoxious to suspicion, from their connection with the
late king.
Among the foremost of these was Count Julian, a man destined to be
infamously renowned in the dark story of his country’s woes. He was of
one of the proudest Gothic families, lord of Consuegra and Algeziras, and
connected by marriage with Witiza and the Bishop Oppas; his wife, the
Countess Frandina, being their sister. In consequence of this connection,
and of his own merits, he had enjoyed the highest dignities and
commands: being one of the Espatorios, or royal sword-bearers; an office
of the greatest confidence about the person of the sovereign.[9] He had,
moreover, been intrusted with the military government of the Spanish
possessions on the African coast of the strait, which at that time were
threatened by the Arabs of the East, the followers of Mahomet, who were
advancing their victorious standard to the extremity of Western Africa.
Count Julian established his seat of government at Ceuta, the frontier
bulwark, and one of the far-famed gates of the Mediterranean Sea. Here he
boldly faced, and held in check, the torrent of Moslem invasion.
Don Julian was a man of an active, but irregular genius, and a grasping
ambition; he had a love for power and grandeur, in which he was joined
by his haughty countess; and they could ill brook the downfall of their
house as threatened by the fate of Witiza. They had hastened, therefore,
to pay their court to the newly elevated monarch, and to assure him of
their fidelity to his interests.
Roderick was readily persuaded of the sincerity of Count Julian; he was
aware of his merits as a soldier and a governor, and continued him in
his important command; honouring him with many other marks of implicit
confidence. Count Julian sought to confirm this confidence by every proof
of devotion. It was a custom among the Goths to rear many of the children
of the most illustrious families in the royal household. They served as
pages to the king, and handmaids and ladies of honour to the queen, and
were instructed in all manner of accomplishments befitting their gentle
blood. When about to depart for Ceuta, to resume his command, Don Julian
brought his daughter Florinda to present her to the sovereigns. She was a
beautiful virgin, that had not as yet attained to womanhood. “I confide
her to your protection,” said he to the king, “to be unto her as a
father; and to have her trained in the paths of virtue. I can leave with
you no dearer pledge of my loyalty.”
King Roderick received the timid and blushing maiden into his paternal
care; promising to watch over her happiness with a parent’s eye, and that
she should be enrolled among the most cherished attendants of the queen.
With this assurance of the welfare of his child, Count Julian departed,
well pleased, for his government at Ceuta.