[18] The remains of this city, which stood about four miles above the

mouth of the Liris, are still to be seen on the right of the road. In

ancient days it was of sufficient magnitude to cover both sides of the

river. See Strabo, Geographia, lib. 5, p. 233, (Paris, 1629, with

Casaubon's notes,) p. 110.

[19] Chrónica del Gran Capitan, lib. 2, cap. 107.--Giovio, Vita Magni

Gonsalvi, fol. 263.

[20] The marshes of Minturnae lay between the city and the mouth of the

Liris. (Cluverius, Ital. Antiq., lib. 3, cap. 10, sec. 9.) The Spanish

army encamped, says Guicciardini, "in a place called by Livy, from its

vicinity to Sessa, _aquae Sinuessanae_, being perhaps the marshes in

which Marius hid himself." (Istoria, lib. 6.) The historian makes two

blunders in a breath. 1st. _Aquae Sinuessanae_, was a name derived not

from Sessa, the ancient Suessa Aurunca, but from the adjacent Sinuessa, a

town about ten miles southeast of Minturnae. (Comp. Livy, lib. 22, cap.

14, and Strabo, lib. 5, p. 233.) 2d. The name did not indicate marshes,

but natural hot springs, particularly noted for their salubrity.

"Salubritate harum aquarum," says Tacitus in allusion to them (Annales,

lib. 12); and Pliny notices their medicinal properties more explicitly.

Hist. Naturalis, lib. 31, cap. 2.

[20] This does not accord with Horace's character of the Garigliano, the

ancient Liris, as the "taciturnus amnis," (Carm., lib. i. 30,) and still

less with that of Silius Italicus,

"Liris ... qui fonte quieto

Dissimulat cursum, et _nullo mutabilis imbre_

Perstringit tacitas gemmanti gurgite ripas."

Puncia, lib. 4.

Indeed, the stream exhibits at the present day the same soft and tranquil

aspect celebrated by the Roman poets. Its natural character, however, was

entirely changed at the period before us, in consequence of the unexampled

heaviness and duration of the autumnal rains.

[21] Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 188.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon,

tom. ii. rey 30, cap. 14.--Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib. 19, cap. 16.

--Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 269.--Giovio, Vitae Illust. Virorum,

fol. 262-264.--Ulloa, Vita di Carlo V., fol. 22.--Machiavelli, Legazione

Prima a Roma, let. 11, Nov. 10.--let. 16, Nov. 13.--let. 17.--Chrónica del

Gran Capitan, lib. 2, cap. 106.--Garnier, Hist. de France, tom. v. pp.

440, 441.

[22] Giovio, Vitae Illust. Virorum, fol. 264.

[23] Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 6, pp. 327, 328.--Giovio, Vitae Illust.

Virorum, fol. 262.--Machiavelli, Legazione Prima a Roma, let. 29.--

Garnier, Hist. de France, tom. v. pp. 443-445.

[24] Legazione Prima a Roma, let. 9, 10, 18.

The French showed the same confidence from the beginning of hostilities.

One of that nation having told Suarez, the Castilian minister at Venice,

that the marshal de la Trémouille said, "He would give 20,000 ducats, if

he could meet Gonsalvo de Cordova in the plains of Viterbo;" the Spaniard

smartly replied, "Nemours would have given twice as much not to have met

him at Cerignola." Zurita, Anales, tom. v. lib. 5, cap. 36.

[25] This barren tract of uninhabited country must have been of very

limited extent; for it lay in the Campania Felix, in the neighborhood of

the cultivated plains of Sessa, the Massicau mountain, and Falernian

fields,--names, which call up associations, that must live while good

poetry and good wine shall be held in honor.

[26] Mariana, Hist. de España, tom. ii. lib. 28, cap. 5.--Guicciardini,

Istoria, tom. i. lib. 6, p. 328.--Machiavelli, Legazione Prima a Roma,

let. 44.--Ulloa, Vita di Carlo V., fol. 22.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan,

cap. 107, 108.--The Neapolitan conquests, it will be remembered, were

undertaken exclusively for the crown of Aragon, the revenues of which were

far more limited than those of Castile.

[27] Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 188.--Chrónica del Gran

Capitan, lib. 2, cap. 108.--Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib. 19, cap,

16.--Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 6, p. 328.--Zurita, Anales, tom. v. lib.

5, cap. 58.

[28] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, fol. 265.--Garnier, Hist. de France,

tom. v. p. 445.--Zurita, Anales, tom. v. lib. 5, cap. 59.--Buonaccorsi,

Diario, fol. 85.--Ulloa, Vita di Carlo V., fol. 22.--Varillas, Hist. de

Louis XII., tom. i. pp. 401, 402.

[29] Garnier, Hist. de France, tom. v. pp. 440-443.--Giovio, Vitae Illust.

Virorum, fol. 264, 265.--Guicciardini, Istoria, tom. i. lib. 6, p. 329.--

Machiavelli, Legazione Prima a Roma, let. 44.--St. Gelais, Hist. de Louys

XII., pp. 173, 174.

[30] Chrónica del Gran Capitan, lib. 2, cap. 106.--Mémoires de Bayard,

chap. 25, apud Petitot, Collection des Mémoires, tom. xv.--Varillas, Hist.

de Louis XII., tom. i. p. 417.--Quintana, Españoles Célebres, tom. i. pp.

288-290.--Machiavelli, Legazione Prima a Roma, let. 39, 44.

[31] Compare the prose romances of D'Auton, of the "loyal serviteur" of

Bayard, and the no less loyal biographer of the Great Captain, with the

poetic ones of Ariosto, Berni, and the like.

"Magnanima menzogna! or quando è il vero

Si bello, che si possa a te preporre?"

CHAPTER XV.

ITALIAN WARS.--ROUT OF THE GARIGLIANO.--TREATY WITH FRANCE.--GONSALVO'S

MILITARY CONDUCT.

1503, 1504.

Gonsalvo Crosses the River.--Consternation of the French.--Action near

Gaeta.--Hotly Contested.--The French Defeated.--Gaeta Surrenders.--Public

Enthusiasm.--Treaty with France.--Review of Gonsalvo's Military Conduct.--

Results of the Campaign.

Seven weeks had now elapsed, since the two armies had lain in sight of

each other without any decided movement on either side. During this time,

the Great Captain had made repeated efforts to strengthen himself, through

the intervention of the Spanish ambassador, Francisco de Rojas, [1] by

reinforcements from Rome. His negotiations were chiefly directed to secure

the alliance of the Orsini, a powerful family, long involved in a bitter

feud with the Colonnas, then in the Spanish service. A reconciliation

between these noble houses was at length happily effected; and Bartolomeo

d'Alviano, the head of the Orsini, agreed to enlist under the Spanish

commander with three thousand men. This arrangement was finally brought

about through the good offices of the Venetian minister at Rome, who even

advanced a considerable sum of money towards the payment of the new

levies. [2]

The appearance of this corps, with one of the most able and valiant of the

Italian captains at its head, revived the drooping spirits of the camp.

Soon after his arrival, Alviano strongly urged Gonsalvo to abandon his

original plan of operations, and avail himself of his augmented strength

to attack the enemy in his own quarters. The Spanish commander had

intended to confine himself wholly to the defensive, and, too unequal in

force to meet the French in the open field, as before noticed, had

intrenched himself in his present strong position, with the fixed purpose

of awaiting the enemy there. Circumstances had now greatly changed. The

original inequality was diminished by the arrival of the Italian levies,

and still further compensated by the present disorderly state of the

French army. He knew, moreover, that in the most perilous enterprises, the

assailing party gathers an enthusiasm and an impetus in its career, which

counterbalance large numerical odds; while the party taken by surprise is

proportionably disconcerted, and prepared, as it were, for defeat before a

blow is struck. From these considerations, the cautious general acquiesced

in Alviano's project to cross the Garigliano, by establishing a bridge at

a point opposite Suzio, a small place garrisoned by the French on the

right bank, about four miles above their head-quarters. The time for the

attack was fixed as soon as possible after the approaching Christmas, when

the French, occupied with the festivities of the season, might be thrown

off their guard. [3]

This day of general rejoicing to the Christian world at length arrived. It

brought little joy to the Spaniards, buried in the depths of these dreary

morasses, destitute of most of the necessaries of life, and with scarcely

any other means of resisting the climate, than those afforded by their

iron constitutions and invincible courage. They celebrated the day,

however, with all the devotional feeling, and the imposing solemnities,

with which it is commemorated by the Roman Catholic church; and the

exercises of religion, rendered more impressive by their situation, served

to exalt still higher the heroic constancy, which had sustained them under

such unparalleled sufferings.

In the mean while, the materials for the bridge were collected, and the

work went forward with such despatch, that on the 28th of December all was

in readiness for carrying the plan of attack into execution. The task of

laying the bridge across the river was intrusted to Alviano, who had

charge of the van. The central and main division of the army under

Gonsalvo was to cross at the same point; while Andrada at the head of the

rear-guard was to force a passage at the old bridge, lower down the

stream, opposite to the Tower of the Garigliano. [4]

The night was dark and stormy. Alviano performed the duty intrusted to him

with such silence and celerity, that the work was completed without

attracting the enemy's notice. He then crossed over with the van-guard,

consisting chiefly of cavalry, supported by Navarro, Paredes, and Pizarro;

and, falling on the sleeping garrison of Suzio, cut to pieces all who

offered resistance.

The report of the Spaniards having passed the river spread far and wide,

and soon reached the head-quarters of the marquis of Saluzzo, near the

Tower of the Garigliano. The French commander-in-chief, who believed that

the Spaniards were lying on the other side of the river, as torpid as the

snakes in their own marshes, was as much astounded by the event as if a

thunderbolt had burst over his head from a cloudless sky. He lost no time,

however, in rallying such of his scattered forces as he could assemble,

and in the mean while despatched Ives d'Allègre with a body of horse to

hold the enemy in check, till he could make good his own retreat on Gaeta.

His first step was to demolish the bridge near his own quarters, cutting

the moorings of the boats and turning them adrift down the river. He

abandoned his tents and baggage, together with nine of his heaviest

cannon; leaving even the sick and wounded to the mercy of the enemy,

rather than encumber himself with anything that should retard his march.

The remainder of the artillery he sent forward in the van. The infantry

followed next, and the rear, in which Saluzzo took his own station, was

brought up by the men-at-arms to cover the retreat.

Before Allègre could reach Suzio, the whole Spanish army had passed the

Garigliano, and formed on the right bank. Unable to face such superior

numbers, he fell back with precipitation, and joined himself to the main

body of the French, now in full retreat on Gaeta. [5]

Gonsalvo, afraid the French might escape him, sent forward Prospero

Colonna, with a corps of light horse, to annoy and retard their march

until he could come up. Keeping the right bank of the river with the main

body, he marched rapidly through the deserted camp of the enemy, leaving

little leisure for his men to glean the rich spoil, which lay tempting

them on every side. It was not long before he came up with the French,

whose movements were greatly retarded by the difficulty of dragging their

guns over the ground completely saturated with rain. The retreat was

conducted, however, in excellent order; they were eminently favored by the

narrowness of the road, which, allowing but a comparatively small body of

troops on either side to come into action, made success chiefly depend on

the relative merits of these. The French rear, as already stated, was made

up of their men-at-arms, including Bayard, Sandricourt, La Fayette, and

others of their bravest chivalry, who, armed at all points, found no great

difficulty in beating off the light troops which formed the advance of the

Spaniards. At every bridge, stream, and narrow pass, which afforded a

favorable position, the French cavalry closed their ranks, and made a

resolute stand to gain time for the columns in advance.

In this way, alternately halting and retreating, with perpetual

skirmishes, though without much loss on either side, they reached the

bridge before Mola di Gaeta. Here, some of the gun-carriages breaking down

or being overturned occasioned considerable delay and confusion. The

infantry, pressing on, became entangled with the artillery. The marquis of

Saluzzo endeavored to avail himself of the strong position afforded by the

bridge to restore order. A desperate struggle ensued. The French knights

dashed boldly into the Spanish ranks, driving back for a time the tide of

pursuit. The chevalier Bayard, who was seen as usual in the front of

danger, had three horses killed under him; and, at length, carried forward

by his ardor into the thickest of the enemy, was retrieved with difficulty

from their hands by a desperate charge of his friend Sandricourt. [6]

The Spaniards, shaken by the violence of the assault, seemed for a moment

to hesitate; but Gonsalvo had now time to bring up his men-at-arms, who

sustained the faltering columns, and renewed the combat on more equal

terms. He himself was in the hottest of the _mêlée_; and at one time

was exposed to imminent hazard by his horse's losing his footing on the

slippery soil, and coming with him to the ground. The general fortunately

experienced no injury, and, quickly recovering himself, continued to

animate his followers by his voice and intrepid bearing, as before.

The fight had now lasted two hours. The Spaniards, although still in

excellent heart, were faint with fatigue and want of food, having

travelled six leagues, without breaking their fast since the preceding

evening. It was, therefore, with no little anxiety, that Gonsalvo looked

for the coming up of his rear-guard, left, as the reader will remember,

under Andrada at the lower bridge, to decide the fortune of the day.

The welcome spectacle at length presented itself. The dark columns of the

Spaniards were seen, at first faint in the distance, by degrees growing

more and more distinct to the eye. Andrada had easily carried the French

redoubt on his side of the Garigliano; but it was not without difficulty

and delay, that he recovered the scattered boats which the French had set

adrift down the stream, and finally succeeded in re-establishing his

communications with the opposite bank. Having accomplished this, he

rapidly advanced by a more direct road, to the east of that lately

traversed by Gonsalvo along the sea-side, in pursuit of the French. The

latter beheld with dismay the arrival of this fresh body of troops, who

seemed to have dropped from the clouds on the field of battle. They

scarcely waited for the shock before they broke, and gave way in all

directions. The disabled carriages of the artillery, which clogged up the

avenues in the rear, increased the confusion among the fugitives, and the

foot were trampled down without mercy under the heels of their own

cavalry, in the eagerness of the latter to extricate themselves from their

perilous situation. The Spanish light horse followed up their advantage

with the alacrity of vengeance long delayed, inflicting bloody retribution

for all they had so long suffered in the marshes of Sessa.

At no great distance from the bridge the road takes two directions, the

one towards Itri, the other to Gaeta. The bewildered fugitives here

separated; by far the greater part keeping the latter route. Gonsalvo sent

forward a body of horse under Navarro and Pedro de la Paz by a short cut

across the country, to intercept their flight. A large number fell into

his hands in consequence of this manoeuvre; but the greater part of those

who escaped the sword succeeded in throwing themselves into Gaeta. [7]

The Great Captain took up his quarters that night in the neighboring

village of Castellone. His brave followers had great need of refreshment,

having fasted and fought through the whole day, and that under a driving

storm of rain which had not ceased for a moment. Thus terminated the

battle, or rout, as it is commonly called, of the Garigliano, the most

important in its results of all Gonsalvo's victories, and furnishing a

suitable close to his brilliant military career. [8] The loss of the

French is computed at from three to four thousand men, left dead on the

field, together with all their baggage, colors, and splendid train of

artillery. The Spaniards must have suffered severely during the sharp

conflict on the bridge; but no estimate of their loss is to be met with,

in any native or foreign writer. [9] It was observed that the 29th of

December, on which this battle was won, came on Friday, the same ominous

day of the week, which had so often proved auspicious to the Spaniards

under the present reign. [10]

The disparity of the forces actually engaged was probably not great, since

the extent of country over which the French were quartered prevented many

of them from coming up in time for action. Several corps, who succeeded in

reaching the field at the close of the fight, were seized with such a

panic as to throw down their arms without attempting resistance. [11] The

admirable artillery, on which the French placed chief reliance, was not

only of no service, but of infinite mischief to them, as we have seen. The

brunt of the battle fell on their chivalry, which bore itself throughout

the day with the spirit and gallantry worthy of its ancient renown; never

flinching, till the arrival of the Spanish rear-guard fresh in the field,

at so critical a juncture, turned the scale in their adversaries' favor.

Early on the following morning, Gonsalvo made preparations for storming

the heights of Mount Orlando, which overlooked the city of Gaeta. Such was

the despondency of its garrison, however, that this strong position, which

bade defiance a few months before to the most desperate efforts of Spanish

valor, was now surrendered without a struggle. The same feeling of

despondency had communicated itself to the garrison of Gaeta; and, before

Navarro could bring the batteries of Mount Orlando to bear upon the city,

a flag of truce arrived from the marquis of Saluzzo with proposals for

capitulation.

This was more than the Great Captain could have ventured to promise

himself. The French were in great force; the fortifications of the place

in excellent repair; it was well provided with artillery and ammunition,

and with provisions for ten days at least; while their fleet, riding in

the harbor, afforded the means of obtaining supplies from Leghorn, Genoa,

and other friendly ports. But the French had lost all heart; they were

sorely wasted by disease; their buoyant self-confidence was gone, and

their spirits broken by the series of reverses, which had followed without

interruption from the first hour of the campaign, to the last disastrous

affair of the Garigliano. The very elements seemed to have leagued against

them. Further efforts they deemed a fruitless struggle against destiny;

and they now looked with melancholy longing to their native land, eager

only to quit these ill-omened shores for ever.

The Great Captain made no difficulty in granting such terms, as, while

they had a show of liberality, secured him the most important fruits of

victory. This suited his cautious temper far better than pressing a

desperate foe to extremity. He was, moreover, with all his successes, in

no condition to do so; he was without funds, and, as usual, deeply in

arrears to his army; while there was scarcely a ration of bread, says an

Italian historian, in his whole camp. [12]

It was agreed by the terms of capitulation, January 1st, 1504, that the

French should evacuate Gaeta at once, and deliver it up to the Spaniards

with its artillery, munitions, and military stores of every description.

The prisoners on both sides, including those taken in the preceding

campaign, an arrangement greatly to the advantage of the enemy, were to be

restored; and the army in Gaeta was to be allowed a free passage by land

or sea, as they should prefer, to their own country. [13]

From the moment hostilities were brought to a close; Gonsalvo displayed

such generous sympathy for his late enemies, and such humanity in

relieving them, as to reflect more honor on his character than all his

victories. He scrupulously enforced the faithful performance of the

treaty, and severely punished any violence offered to the French by his

own men. His benign and courteous demeanor towards the vanquished, so

remote from the images of terror with which he had been, hitherto

associated in their minds, excited unqualified admiration; and they

testified their sense of his amiable qualities, by speaking of him as the

"gentil capitaine et gentil cavalier." [14]

The news of the rout of the Garigliano and the surrender of Gaeta diffused

general gloom and consternation over France. There was scarcely a family

of rank, says a writer of that country, that had not some one of its

members involved in these sad disasters. [15] The court went into

mourning. The king, mortified at the discomfiture of all his lofty

schemes, by the foe whom he despised, shut himself up in his palace,

refusing access to every one, until the agitation of his spirits threw him

into an illness, which had wellnigh proved fatal.

Meanwhile his exasperated feelings found an object on which to vent

themselves in the unfortunate garrison of Gaeta, who so pusillanimously

abandoned their post to return to their own country. He commanded them to

winter in Italy, and not to recross the Alps without further orders. He

sentenced Sandricourt and Allègre to banishment for insubordination to

their commander-in-chief; the latter, for his conduct, more particularly,

before the battle of Cerignola; and he hanged up the commissaries of the

army, whose infamous peculations had been a principal cause of its ruin.

[16]

But the impotent wrath of their monarch was not needed to fill the bitter

cup, which the French soldiers were now draining to the dregs. A large

number of those, who embarked for Genoa, died of the maladies contracted

during their long bivouac in the marshes of Minturnae. The rest recrossed

the Alps into France, too desperate to heed their master's prohibition.

Those who took their way by land suffered still more severely from the

Italian peasantry, who retaliated in full measure the barbarities they had

so long endured from the French. They were seen wandering like spectres

along the high roads and principal cities on the route, pining with cold

and famine; and all the hospitals in Rome, as well as the stables, sheds,

and every other place, however mean, affording shelter, were filled with

the wretched vagabonds, eager only to find some obscure retreat to die in.

The chiefs of the expedition fared little better. Among others, the

marquis of Saluzzo, soon after reaching Genoa, was carried off by a fever,

caused by his distress of mind. Sandricourt, too haughty to endure

disgrace, laid violent hands on himself. Allègre, more culpable, but more

courageous, survived to be reconciled with his sovereign, and to die a

soldier's death on the field of battle. [17]

Such are the dismal colors in which the French historians depict the last

struggle made by their monarch for the recovery of Naples. Few military

expeditions have commenced under more brilliant and imposing auspices; few

have been conducted in so ill-advised a manner through their whole

progress; and none attended in their close with more indiscriminate and

overwhelming ruin.

On the 3d of January, 1504, Gonsalvo made his entry into Gaeta; and the

thunders of his ordnance, now for the first time heard from its

battlements, announced that this strong key to the dominions of Naples had

passed into the hands of Aragon. After a short delay for the refreshment

of his troops, he set out for the capital. But, amidst the general jubilee

which greeted his return, he was seized with a fever, brought on by the

incessant fatigue and high mental excitement in which he had been kept for

the last four months. The attack was severe, and the event for some time

doubtful. During this state of suspense the public mind was in the deepest

agitation. The popular manners of Gonsalvo had won the hearts of the giddy

people of Naples, who transferred their affections, indeed, as readily as

their allegiance; and prayers and vows for his restoration, were offered

up in all the churches and monasteries of the city. His excellent

constitution at length got the better of his disease. As soon as this

favorable result was ascertained, the whole population, rushing to the

other extreme, abandoned itself to a delirium of joy; and, when he was

sufficiently recovered to give them audience, men of all ranks thronged to

Castel Nuovo to tender their congratulations, and obtain a sight of the

hero, who now returned to their capital, for the third time, with the

laurel of victory on his brow. Every tongue, says his enthusiastic

biographer, was eloquent in his praise; some dwelling on his noble port,

and the beauty of his countenance; others on the elegance and amenity of

his manners; and all dazzled by a spirit of munificence, which would have

become royalty itself. [18]

The tide of panegyric was swelled by more than one bard, who sought,

though with indifferent success, to catch inspiration from so glorious a

theme; trusting doubtless that his liberal hand would not stint the

recompense to the precise measure of desert. Amid this general burst of

adulation, the muse of Sannazaro, worth all his tribe, was alone silent;

for the trophies of the conqueror were raised on the ruins of that royal

house, under which the bard had been so long sheltered; and this silence,

so rare in his tuneful brethren, must be admitted to reflect more credit

on his name, than the best he ever sung. [19]

The first business of Gonsalvo was to call together the different orders

of the state, and receive their oaths of allegiance to King Ferdinand. He

next occupied himself with the necessary arrangements for the

reorganization of the government, and for reforming various abuses which

had crept into the administration of justice, more particularly. In these

attempts to introduce order, he was not a little thwarted, however, by the

insubordination of his own soldiery, They loudly clamored for the

discharge of the arrears, still shamefully protracted, till, their

discontents swelling to open mutiny, they forcibly seized on two of the

principal places in the kingdom as security for the payment. Gonsalvo

chastised their insolence by disbanding several of the most refractory

companies, and sending them home for punishment. He endeavored to relieve

them in part by raising contributions from the Neapolitans. But the

soldiers took the matter into their own hands, oppressing the unfortunate

people on whom they were quartered in a manner which rendered their

condition scarcely more tolerable, than when exposed to the horrors of

actual war. [20] This was the introduction, according to Guicciardini, of

those systematic military exactions in time of peace, which became so

common afterwards in Italy, adding an inconceivable amount to the long

catalogue of woes which afflicted that unhappy land. [21]

Amidst his manifold duties, Gonsalvo did not forget the gallant officers

who had borne with him the burdens of the war, and he requited their

services in a princely style, better suited to his feelings than his

interests, as subsequently appeared. Among them were Navarro, Mendoza,

Andrada, Benavides, Leyva, the Italians Alviano and the two Colonnas, most

of whom lived to display the lessons of tactics, which they learned under

this great commander, on a still wider theatre of glory, in the reign of

Charles the Fifth. He made them grants of cities, fortresses, and

extensive lands, according to their various claims, to be held as fiefs of

the crown. All this was done with the previous sanction of his royal

master, Ferdinand the Catholic. They did some violence, however, to his

more economical spirit, and he was heard somewhat peevishly to exclaim,

"It boots little for Gonsalvo de Cordova to have won a kingdom for me, if

he lavishes it all away before it comes into my hands." It began to be

perceived at court that the Great Captain was too powerful for a subject.

[22]

Meanwhile, Louis the Twelfth was filled with serious apprehensions for the

fate of his possessions in the north of Italy. His former allies, the

emperor Maximilian and the republic of Venice, the latter more especially,

had shown many indications, not merely of coldness to himself, but of a

secret understanding with his rival, the king of Spain. The restless pope,

Julius the Second, had schemes of his own, wholly independent of France.

The republics of Pisa and Genoa, the latter one of her avowed

dependencies, had entered into correspondence with the Great Captain, and

invited him to assume their protection; while several of the disaffected

party in Milan had assured him of their active support, in case he would

march with a sufficient force to overturn the existing government. Indeed,

not only France, but Europe in general, expected that the Spanish

commander would avail himself of the present crisis, to push his

victorious arms into upper Italy, revolutionize Tuscany in his way, and,

wresting Milan from the French, drive them, crippled and disheartened by

their late reverses, beyond the Alps. [23]

But Gonsalvo had occupation enough on his hands in settling the disordered

state of Naples. King Ferdinand, his sovereign, notwithstanding the

ambition of universal conquest absurdly imputed to him by the French

writers, had no design to extend his acquisitions beyond what he could

permanently maintain. His treasury, never overflowing, was too deeply

drained by the late heavy demands on it, for him so soon to embark on

another perilous enterprise, that must rouse anew the swarms of enemies,

who seemed willing to rest in quiet after their long and exhausting

struggle; nor is there any reason to suppose he sincerely contemplated

such a movement for a moment. [24]

The apprehension of it, however, answered Ferdinand's purpose, by

preparing the French monarch to arrange his differences with his rival, as

the latter now earnestly desired, by negotiation. Indeed, two Spanish

ministers had resided during the greater part of the war at the French

court, with the view of improving the first opening that should occur for

accomplishing this object; and by their agency a treaty was concluded, to

continue for three years, which guaranteed to Aragon the undisturbed

possession of her conquests during that period. The chief articles

provided for the immediate cessation of hostilities between the

belligerents, and the complete re-establishment of their commercial

relations and intercourse, with the exception of Naples, from which the

French were to be excluded. The Spanish crown was to have full power to

reduce all refractory places in that kingdom; and the contracting parties

solemnly pledged themselves, each to render no assistance, secretly or

openly, to the enemies of the other. The treaty, which was to run from the

25th of February, 1504, was signed by the French king and the Spanish

plenipotentiaries at Lyons, on the 11th of that month, and ratified by

Ferdinand and Isabella, at the convent of Santa Maria de la Mejorada, the

31st of March following. [25]

There was still a small spot in the heart of Naples, comprehending Venosa

and several adjoining towns, where Louis d'Ars and his brave associates

yet held out against the Spanish arms. Although cut off by the operation

of this treaty from the hope of further support from home, the French

knight disdained to surrender; but sallied out at the head of his little

troop of gallant veterans, and thus, armed at all points, says Brantôme,

with lance in rest, took his way through Naples, and the centre of Italy.

He marched in battle array, levying contributions for his support on the

places through which he passed. In this manner he entered France, and

presented himself before the court at Blois. The king and queen, delighted

with his prowess, came forward to welcome him, and made good cheer, says

the old chronicler, for himself and his companions, whom they recompensed

with liberal largesses, proffering at the same time any boon to the brave

knight, which he should demand for himself. The latter in return simply

requested that his old comrade Ives d'Allègre should be recalled from

exile. This trait of magnanimity, when contrasted with the general

ferocity of the times, has something in it inexpressibly pleasing. It

shows, like others recorded of the French gentlemen of that period, that

the age of chivalry,--the chivalry of romance, indeed,--had not wholly

passed away. [26]

The pacification of Lyons sealed the fate of Naples; and, while it

terminated the wars in that kingdom, closed the military career of

Gonsalvo de Cordova. It is impossible to contemplate the magnitude of the

results, achieved with such slender resources, and in the face of such

overwhelming odds, without deep admiration for the genius of the man by

whom they were accomplished.

His success, it is true, is imputable in part to the signal errors of his

adversaries. The magnificent expedition of Charles the Eighth failed to

produce any permanent impression, chiefly in consequence of the

precipitation with which it had been entered into, without sufficient

concert with the Italian states, who became a formidable enemy when united

in his rear. He did not even avail himself of his temporary acquisition of

Naples to gather support from the attachment of his new subjects. Far from

incorporating with them, he was regarded as a foreigner and an enemy, and,

as such, expelled by the joint action of all Italy from its bosom, as soon

as it had recovered sufficient strength to rally.

Louis the Twelfth profited by the errors of his predecessor. His

acquisitions in the Milanese formed a basis for future operations; and by

negotiation and otherwise he secured the alliance and the interests of the

various Italian governments on his side. These preliminary arrangements

were followed by preparations every way commensurate with his object. He

failed in the first campaign, however, by intrusting the command to

incompetent hands, consulting birth rather than talent or experience.

In the succeeding campaigns, his failure, though partly chargeable on

himself, was less so than on circumstances beyond his control. The first

of these was the long detention of the army before Rome by Cardinal

D'Amboise, and its consequent exposure to the unexampled severity of the

ensuing winter. A second was the fraudulent conduct of the commissaries,

implying, no doubt, some degree of negligence in the person who appointed

them; and lastly, the want of a suitable commander-in-chief of the army.

La Trémouille being ill, and D'Aubigny a prisoner in the hands of the

enemy, there appeared no one among the French qualified to cope with the

Spanish general. The marquis of Mantua, independently of the disadvantage

of being a foreigner, was too timid in council, and dilatory in conduct,

to be any way competent to this difficult task.

If his enemies, however, committed great errors, it is altogether owing to

Gonsalvo that he was in a situation to take advantage of them. Nothing

could be more unpromising than his position on first entering Calabria.

Military operations had been conducted in Spain on principles totally

different from those which prevailed in the rest of Europe. This was the

case especially in the late Moorish wars, where the old tactics and the

character of the ground brought light cavalry chiefly into use. This,

indeed, constituted his principal strength at this period; for his

infantry, though accustomed to irregular service, was indifferently armed

and disciplined. An important revolution, however, had occurred in the

other parts of Europe. The infantry had there regained the superiority

which it maintained in the days of the Greeks and Romans. The experiment

had been made on more than one bloody field; and it was found that the

solid columns of Swiss and German pikes not only bore down all opposition

in their onward march, but presented an impregnable barrier, not to be

shaken by the most desperate charges of the best heavy-armed cavalry. It

was against these dreaded battalions that Gonsalvo was now called to

measure for the first time the bold but rudely armed and comparatively raw

recruits from Galicia and the Asturias.

He lost his first battle, into which it should be remembered he was

precipitated against his will. He proceeded afterwards with the greatest

caution, gradually familiarizing his men with the aspect and usages of the

enemy whom they held in such awe, before bringing them again to a direct

encounter. He put himself to school during this whole campaign, carefully

acquainting himself with the tactics, discipline, and novel arms of his

adversaries, and borrowing just so much as he could incorporate into the

ancient system of the Spaniards, without discarding the latter altogether.

Thus, while he retained the short sword and buckler of his countrymen, he

fortified his battalions with a large number of spearmen, after the German

fashion. The arrangement is highly commended by the sagacious Machiavelli,

who considers it as combining the advantages of both systems, since, while

the long spear served all the purposes of resistance, or even of attack on

level ground, the short swords and targets enabled their wearers, as

already noticed, to cut in under the dense array of hostile pikes, and

bring the enemy to close quarters, where his formidable weapon was of no

avail. [27]

While Gonsalvo made this innovation in the arms and tactics, he paid equal

attention to the formation of a suitable character in his soldiery. The

circumstances in which he was placed at Barleta, and on the Garigliano,

imperatively demanded this. Without food, clothes, or pay, without the

chance even of retrieving his desperate condition by venturing a blow at

the enemy, the Spanish soldier was required to remain passive. To do this

demanded, patience, abstinence, strict subordination, and a degree of

resolution far higher than that required to combat obstacles, however

formidable in themselves, where active exertion, which tasks the utmost

energies of the soldier, renews his spirits and raises them to a contempt

of danger. It was calling on him, in short, to begin with achieving that

most difficult of all victories, the victory over himself.

All this the Spanish commander effected. He infused into his men a portion

of his own invincible energy. He inspired a love of his person, which led

them to emulate his example, and a confidence in his genius and resources,

which supported them under all their privations by a firm reliance on a

fortunate issue. His manners were distinguished by a graceful courtesy,

less encumbered with etiquette than was usual with persons of his high

rank in Castile. He knew well the proud and independent feelings of the

Spanish soldier; and, far from annoying him by unnecessary restraints,

showed the most liberal indulgence at all times. But his kindness was

tempered with severity, which displayed itself, on such occasions as

required interposition, in a manner that rarely failed to repress

everything like insubordination. The reader will readily recall an example

of this in the mutiny before Tarento; and it was doubtless by the

assertion of similar power, that he was so long able to keep in check his

German mercenaries, distinguished above the troops of every other nation

by their habitual license and contempt of authority.

While Gonsalvo relied so freely on the hardy constitution and patient

habits of the Spaniards, he trusted no less to the deficiency of these

qualities in the French, who, possessing little of the artificial

character formed under the stern training of later times, resembled their

Gaulish ancestors in the facility with which they were discouraged by

unexpected obstacles, and the difficulty with which they could be brought

to rally. [28] In this he did not miscalculate. The French infantry, drawn

from the militia of the country, hastily collected and soon to be

disbanded, and the independent nobility and gentry who composed the

cavalry service, were alike difficult to be brought within the strict curb

of military rule. The severe trials, which steeled the souls, and gave

sinewy strength to the constitutions, of the Spanish soldiers, impaired

those of their enemies, introduced divisions into their councils, and

relaxed the whole tone of discipline. Gonsalvo watched the operation of

all this, and, coolly waiting the moment when his weary and disheartened

adversary should be thrown off his guard, collected all his strength for a

decisive blow, by which to terminate the action. Such was the history of

those memorable campaigns, which closed with the brilliant victories of

Cerignola and the Garigliano.

In a review of his military conduct, we must not overlook his politic

deportment towards the Italians, altogether the reverse of the careless

and insolent bearing of the French. He availed himself liberally of their

superior science, showing great deference, and confiding the most

important trusts, to their officers. [29] Far from the reserve usually

shown to foreigners, he appeared insensible to national distinctions, and

ardently embraced them as companions in arms, embarked in a common cause

with himself. In their tourney with the French before Barleta, to which

the whole nation attached such importance as a vindication of national

honor, they were entirely supported by Gonsalvo, who furnished them with

arms, secured a fair field of fight, and shared the triumph of the victors

as that of his own countrymen,--paying those delicate attentions, which

cost far less, indeed, but to an honorable mind are of greater value, than

more substantial benefits. He conciliated the good-will of the Italian

states by various important services; of the Venetians, by his gallant

defence of their possessions in the Levant; of the people of Rome, by

delivering them from the pirates of Ostia; while he succeeded,

notwithstanding the excesses of his soldiery, in captivating the giddy

Neapolitans to such a degree, by his affable manners and splendid style of

life, as seemed to efface from their minds every recollection of the last

and most popular of their monarchs, the unfortunate Frederic.

The distance of Gonsalvo's theatre of operations from his own country,

apparently most discouraging, proved extremely favorable to his purposes.

The troops, cut off from retreat by a wide sea and an impassable mountain

barrier, had no alternative but to conquer or to die. Their long

continuance in the field without disbanding gave them all the stern,

inflexible qualities of a standing army; and, as they served through so

many successive campaigns under the banner of the same leader, they were

drilled in a system of tactics far steadier and more uniform than could be

acquired under a variety of commanders, however able. Under these

circumstances, which so well fitted them for receiving impressions, the

Spanish army was gradually moulded into the form determined by the will of

its great chief.

When we look at the amount offered at the disposal of Gonsalvo, it appears

so paltry, especially compared with the gigantic apparatus of later wars,

that it may well suggest disparaging ideas of the whole contest. To judge

correctly, we must direct our eyes to the result. With this insignificant

force, we shall then see the kingdom of Naples conquered, and the best

generals and armies of France annihilated; an important innovation

effected in military science; the art of mining, if not invented, carried

to unprecedented perfection; a thorough reform introduced in the arms and

discipline of the Spanish soldier; and the organization completed of that

valiant infantry, which is honestly eulogized by a French writer, as

irresistible in attack, and impossible to rout; [30] and which carried the

banners of Spain victorious, for more than a century, over the most

distant parts of Europe.

* * * * *

The brilliant qualities and achievements of Gonzalo de Cordova have

naturally made him a popular theme both for history and romance. Various

biographies of him have appeared in the different European languages,

though none, I believe, hitherto in English. The authority of principal

reference in these pages is the Life which Paolo Giovio has incorporated

in his great work, "Vitae Illustrium Virorum," which I have elsewhere

noticed. This Life of Gonsalvo is not exempt from the prejudices, nor from

the minor inaccuracies, which may be charged on most of this author's

productions; but these are abundantly compensated by the stores of novel

and interesting details which Giovio's familiarity with the principal

actors of the time enabled him to throw into his work, and by the skilful

arrangement. of his narrative, so disposed as, without studied effort, to

bring into light the prominent qualities of his hero. Every page bears the

marks of that "golden pen," which the politic Italian reserved for his

favorites; and, while this obvious partiality may put the reader somewhat

on his guard, it gives an interest to the work, inferior to none other of

his agreeable compositions.

The most imposing of the Spanish memoirs of Gonsalvo, in bulk at least, is

the "Chrónica del Gran Capitan," Alcala de Henares, 1584. Nic. Antonio

doubts whether the author were Pulgar, who wrote the "History of the

Catholic Kings," of such frequent reference in the Granadine wars', or

another Pulgar del Salar, as he is called, who received the honors of

knighthood from King Ferdinand for his valorous exploits against the

Moors. (See Bibliotheca Uova, tom. i. p. 387.) With regard to the first

Pulgar, there is no reason to suppose that he lived into the sixteenth

century; and, as to the second, the work composed by him, so far from

being the one in question, was a compendium, bearing the title of "Sumario

de los Hechos del Gran Capitan," printed as early as 1527, at Seville,

(See the editor's prologue to Pulgar's "Chrónica de los Reyes Católicos,"

ed Valencia, 1780.) Its author, therefore, remains in obscurity. He

sustains no great damage on the score of reputation, however, from this

circumstance; as his work is but an indifferent specimen of the rich old

Spanish chronicle, exhibiting most of its characteristic blemishes, with a

very small admixture of its beauties. The long and prosy narrative is

overloaded with the most frivolous details, trumpeted forth in a strain of

glorification, which sometimes disfigures more meritorious compositions in

the Castilian. Nothing like discrimination of character, of course, is to

be looked for in the unvarying swell of panegyric, which claims for its

subject all the extravagant flights of a hero of romance. With these

deductions, however, and a liberal allowance, consequently, for the

nationality of the work, it has considerable value as a record of events,

too recent in their occurrence to be seriously defaced by those deeper

stains of error, which are so apt to settle on the weather-beaten

monuments of antiquity. It has accordingly formed a principal source of

the "Vida del Gran Capitan," introduced by Quintana in the first volume of

his "Españoles Célebres," printed at Madrid, in 1807. This memoir, in

which the incidents are selected with discernment, displays the usual

freedom and vivacity of its poetic author. It does not bring the general

politics of the period under review, but will not be found deficient in

particulars having immediate connection with the personal history of its

subject; and, on the whole, exhibits in an agreeable and compendious form

whatever is of most interest or importance for the general reader.

The French have also a "Histoire de Gonsalve de Cordoue," composed by

Father Duponcet, a Jesuit, in two vols. 12mo, Paris, 1714. Though an

ambitious, it is a bungling performance, most unskilfully put together,

and contains quite as much of what its hero did not do, as of what he did.

The prolixity of the narrative is not even relieved by the piquancy of

style, which forms something like a substitute for thought in many of the

lower order of French historians. It is less to history, however, than to

romance, that the French public is indebted for its conceptions of the

character of Gonsalvo de Cordova, as depicted by the gaudy pencil of

Florian, in that highly poetic coloring, which is more attractive to the

majority of readers than the cold and sober delineations of truth.

The contemporary French accounts of the Neapolitan wars of Louis XII. are

extremely meagre, and few in number. The most striking, on the whole, is

D'Auton's chronicle, composed in the true chivalrous vein of old

Froissart, but unfortunately terminating before the close of the first

campaign. St. Gelais and Claude Seyssel touch very lightly on this part of

their subject. History becomes in their hands, moreover, little better

than fulsome panegyric, carried to such a height, indeed, by the latter

writer, as brought on him the most severe strictures from his

contemporaries; so that he was compelled to take up the pen more than once

in his own vindication. The "Mémoires de Bayard," Fleurange, and La

Trémouille, so diffuse in most military details, are nearly silent in

regard to those of the Neapolitan war. The truth is, the subject was too

ungrateful in itself, and presented too unbroken a series of calamities

and defeats, to invite the attention of the French historians, who

willingly turned to those brilliant passages in this reign, more soothing

to national vanity.

The blank has been filled up, or rather attempted to be so, by the

assiduity of their later writers. Among these, occasionally consulted by

me, are Varillas, whose "Histoire de Louis XII.," loose as it is, rests on

a somewhat more solid basis than his metaphysical reveries, assuming the

title of "Politique de Ferdinand," already repeatedly noticed; Garnier,

whose perspicuous narrative, if inferior to that of Gaillard in acuteness

and epigrammatic point, makes a much nearer approach to truth; and,

lastly, Sismondi, who, if he may be charged, in his "Histoire des

Français," with some of the defect incident to indiscreet rapidity of

composition, succeeds by a few brief and animated touches in opening

deeper views into character and conduct than can be got from volumes of

ordinary writers.

The want of authentic materials for a perfect acquaintance with the reign

of Louis XII. is a subject of complaint with French writers themselves.

The memoirs of the period, occupied with the more dazzling military

transactions, make no attempt to instruct us in the interior organization

or policy of the government. One might imagine, that their authors lived a

century before Philippe de Comines, instead of coming after him, so

inferior are they, in all the great properties of historic composition, to

this eminent statesman. The French _savans_ have made slender

contributions to the stock of original documents collected more than two

centuries ago by Godefroy for the illustration of this reign. It can

scarcely be supposed, however, that the labors of this early antiquary

exhausted the department, in which the French are rich beyond all others,

and that those, who work the same mine hereafter, should not find valuable

materials for a broader foundation of this interesting portion of their

history.

It is fortunate that the reserve of the French in regard to their

relations with Italy, at this time, has been abundantly compensated by the

labors of the most eminent contemporary writers of the latter country, as

Bembo, Machiavelli, Giovio, and the philosophic Guicciardini; whose

situation as Italians enabled them to maintain the balance of historic

truth undisturbed, at least by undue partiality for either of the two

great rival powers; whose high public stations introduced them to the

principal characters of the day, and to springs of action hidden from

vulgar eyes; and whose superior science, as well as genius, qualified them

for rising above the humble level of garrulous chronicle and memoir to the

classic dignity of history. It is with regret that we must now strike into

a track unillumined by the labors of these great masters of their art in

modern times.

Since the publication of this History, the Spanish Minister at Washington,

Don Angel Calderon de la Barca, did me the favor to send me a copy of the

biography above noticed as the "Sumario de los Hechos del Gran Capitan."

It is a recent reprint from the ancient edition of 1527, of which the

industrious editor, Don F. Martinez de la Rosa, was able to find but one

copy in Spain. In its new form, it covers about a hundred duodecimo pages.

It has positive value, as a contemporary document, and as such I gladly

avail myself of it. But the greater part is devoted to the early history

of Gonsalvo, over which my limits have compelled me to pass lightly; and,

for the rest, I am happy to find, on the perusal of it, nothing of moment,

which conflicts with the statements drawn from other sources. The able

editor has also combined an interesting notice of its author, Pulgar,

_El de las Hazañas_, one of those heroes whose doughty feats shed the

illusions of knight-errantry over the war of Granada.

FOOTNOTES

[1] He succeeded Garcilasso de la Vega at the court of Rome. Oviedo says,

in reference to the illustrious house of Rojas, "En todas las historias de

España no se hallan tantos caballeros de un linage y nombre notados por

valerosos caballeros y valientes milites como deste nombre de Rojas."

Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 2, dial. 8.

[2] Mariana, Hist. de España, tom. ii. lib. 28, cap. 5.--Guicciardini,

Istoria, lib. 6, pp. 319, 320.--Zurita, Anales, tom. v. lib. 5, cap. 48,

57.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, tom. ii. rey 30, cap. 14, sec. 4, 5.--Daru,

Hist. de Venise, tom. iii. pp. 364, 365.

[3] Giovio, Vitae Illust. Virorum, pp. 267, 268.--Ulloa, Vita di Carlo V.,

fol. 22.--Guicciardini, Istoria, tom. i. lib. 6, pp. 329, 330.--

Machiavelli, Legazione Prima a Roma, let. 36.

[4] Chrónica del Gran Capitan, lib. 2, cap. 110.--Bernaldez, Reyes

Católicos, MS., cap. 189.--Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 3, fol. 266.

--Zurita, Historia del Rey Hernando, tom. i. lib. 5, cap. 60.--Peter

Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 270.--Buonaccorsi, Diario, p. 84.

[5] Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 189.--Ulloa, Vita di Carlo V.,

fol. 22, 23.--Guicciardini, Istoria, p. 330.--Garnier, Hist. de France,

tom. v. pp. 448, 449.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, lib. 2, cap. 110.--

Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, tom. ii. rey 30, cap. 14, sec. 6.--Zurita,

Anales, tom. v. lib. 5, cap. 60.--Senarega, apud Muratori, Rerum Ital.

Script., tom. xxiv. p. 579.

[6] Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 6, pp. 330, 331.--Garnier, Hist. de

France, tom. v. pp. 449-451.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, ubi supra.--

Varillas, Hist. de Louis XII., tom. i. pp. 416-418.--Ammirato, Istorie

Florentine, tom. iii. lib. 28, p. 273.--Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, tom.

iii. p. 555.--Buonaccorsi, Diario, pp. 84, 85.--Giovio, Vitae Magni

Gonsalvi, fol. 268.

[8] Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 190.--Garnier, Hist. de France,

tom. v. pp. 452, 453.--Ulloa, Vita di Carlo V., fol. 23.--Guicciardini,

Istoria, lib. 6, p. 331.--Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib. 19, cap. 16.--

Chrónica del Gran Capitan, ubi supra.--Buonaccorsi, Diario, pp. 84, 85.--

Ammirato, Istorie Fiorentine, ubi supra.--Varillas, Hist. de Louis XII.,

tom. i. pp. 416-418.

[8] Soon after the rout of the Garigliano, Bembo produced the following

sonnet, which most critics agree was intended, although no name appears in

it, for Gonsalvo de Cordova.

"Ben devria farvi onor d' eterno esempio

Napoli vostra, e 'n mezzo al suo bel monte

Scolpirvi in lieta e ooronata fronte,

Gir trionfando, e dar i voti al tempio:

Poi che l' avete all' orgoglioso ed empio

Stuolo ritolta, e pareggiate l' onte;

Or ch' avea più la voglia e le man pronte

A far d' Italia tutta acerbo scempio.

Torcestel voi, Signor, dal corso ardito,

E foste tal, ch' ancora esser vorebbe

A por di qua dall' Alpe nostra il piede.

L' onda Tirrena del suo sangue crebbe,

E di tronchi resto coperto il lito,

E gli angelli ne fer secure prede."

Opere, tom. ii. p. 57.

[9] The Curate of Los Palacios sums up the loss of the French, from the

time of Gonsalvo's occupation of Barleta to the surrender of Gaeta, in the

following manner; 6000 prisoners, 14,000 killed in battle, a still greater

number by exposure and fatigue, besides a considerable body cut off by the

peasantry. To balance this bloody roll, he computes the Spanish loss at

two hundred slain in the field! Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 191.

[10] Chrónica del Gran Capitan, lib. 2, cap. 110.--Zurita, Anales, ubi

supra.--Garibay, Compendio, lib. 19, cap. 16.--Quintana, Españoles

Célebres, tom. i. pp. 296, 97.

Guicciardini, who has been followed in this by the French writers, fixes

the date of the rout at the 28th of December. If, however, it occurred on

Friday, as he, and every authority, indeed, asserts, it must have been on

the 29th, as stated by the Spanish historians. Istoria, lib. 6, p. 330.

[11] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, fol. 268.

[12] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, fol. 268, 269.--Chrónica del Gran

Capitan, lib. 2, cap. 111.--Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 270.--

Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 6, p. 331.--Zurita, Anales, tom. v. lib. 5,

cap. 61.--Garnier, Hist. de France, tom. v. pp. 454, 455.--Sismondi, Hist.

des Français, tom. xv. cap. 29.

[13] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, tom. i. lib. 5, cap. 61.--Garnier,

Hist. de France, tom. v. pp. 454, 455.--Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS.,

cap. 190.--Giannone, Istoria di Napoli, lib. 29, cap. 4.

No particular mention was made of the Italian allies in the capitulation.

It so happened that several of the great Angevin lords, who had been taken

in the preceding campaigns of Calabria, were found in arms in the place.

(Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, fol. 252, 253, 269.) Gonsalvo, in

consequence of this manifest breach of faith, refusing to regard them as

comprehended in the treaty, sent them all prisoners of state to the

dungeons of Castel Nuovo in Naples. This action has brought on him much

unmerited obloquy with the French writers. Indeed, before the treaty was

signed, if we are to credit the Italian historians, Gonsalvo peremptorily

refused to include the Neapolitan lords within it. Thus much is certain;

that, after having been taken and released, they were now found under the

French banners a second time. It seems not improbable, therefore, that the

French, however naturally desirous they may have been of protection for

their allies, finding themselves unable to enforce it, acquiesced in such

an equivocal silence with respect to them as, without apparently

compromising their own honor, left the whole affair to the discretion of

the Great Captain.

With regard to the sweeping charge made by certain modern French

historians against the Spanish general, of a similar severity to the other

Italians indiscriminately, found in the place, there is not the slightest

foundation for it in any contemporary authority. See Gaillard, Rivalité,

tom. iv. p. 254.--Garnier, Hist. de France, tom. v. p. 456.--Varillas,

Hist de Louis XII., tom. i. pp. 419, 420.

[14] Fleurange, Mémoires, chap. 5, apud Petitot, Collection des Mémoires,

tom. xvi.--Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 190.--Giovio, Vitae

Illust. Virorum, fol. 269, 270.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, cap. 111.

[15] Brantôme, who visited the banks of the Garigliano, some fifty years

after this, beheld them in imagination thronged with the shades of the

illustrious dead, whose bones lay buried in its dreary and pestilent

marshes. There is a sombre coloring in the vision of the old chronicler,

not unpoetical. Vies des Hommes Illustres, disc. 6.

[16] Garnier, Hist. de France, tom. v. pp. 456-458.--Giovio, Vitae Illust.

Virorum, fol. 269, 270.--Guicciardini, Istoria, tom. i. lib. 6, pp. 332,

337.--St. Gelais, Hist. de Louys XII., p. 173.

[17] Buonaccorsi, Diario, p. 86.--Ulloa, Vita di Carlo V., fol. 23.--

Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 190.--Giovio, Vitae Illust. Virorum,

ubi supra.--Gaillard, Rivalité, tom. iv. pp. 254-256.

[18] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, fol. 270, 271.--Quintana, Españoles

Célebres, tom. i. p. 298.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, lib. 3, cap. 1.--

Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, tom. ii. fol. 359.--Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos,

MS., cap. 190, 191.

[19] Giovio, Vitae Illust. Virorum, fol. 271.

[20] "Per servir sempre, vincitrice o vinia."

The Italians began at this early period to feel the pressure of those

woes, which a century and a half later wrung out of Filicaja the beautiful

lament, which has lost something of its touching graces, even under the

hand of Lord Byron.

[21] Zurita, Anales, tom. v. lib. 5, cap. 64.--Guicciardini, Istoria, lib.

6, pp. 340, 341.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, ubi supra.--Carta del Gran

Capitan, MS.

[22] Giovio, Vitae Illust. Virorum, fol. 270, 271.--Chrónica del Gran

Capitan, lib. 8, cap. 1.--Ulloa, Vita di Carlo V., fol. 24.

[23] Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 6, p. 338.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey

Hernando, tom. i. lib. 5, cap. 64.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, rey 30, cap.

14.--Buonaccorsi, Diario, pp. 85, 86.

[24] Zurita, Anales, tom. v. lib. 5, cap. 66.

The campaign against Louis XII. had cost the Spanish crown 331

_cuentos_ or millions of maravedies, equivalent to 9,268,000 dollars of

the present time. A moderate charge enough for the conquest of a kingdom;

and made still lighter to the Spaniards by one-fifth of the whole being

drawn from Naples itself. See Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, tom. ii. fol. 359.

[25] The treaty is to be found in Dumont, Corps Diplomatique, tom. iv. no.

26, pp. 51-53.--Zurita, Anales, tom. v. lib. 5, cap. 64.--Machiavelli,

Legazione Seconda a Francia, let. 9, Feb. 11.

[26] Brantôme, Oeuvres, tom. ii. disc. 11.--Fleurange, Mémoires, chap. 5,

apud Petitot, Collection des Mémoires, tom. xvi.--Buonaccorsi, Diario, p.

85.--Gaillard, Rivalité, tom. iv. pp. 255-260. See also Mémoires de

Bayard, chap. 25; the good knight, "sans peur et sans reproche," made one

of this intrepid little band, having joined Louis d'Ars after the

capitulation of Gaeta.

[27] Machiavelli, Arte della Guerra. lib. 2.--Machiavelli considers the

victory over D'Aubigny at Seminara as imputable in a great degree to the

peculiar arms of the Spaniards, who, with their short swords and shields,

gliding in among the deep ranks of the Swiss spearmen, brought them to

close combat, where the former had the whole advantage. Another instance

of the kind occurred at the memorable battle of Ravenna some years later.

Ubi supra.

[28] "Prima," says Livy pithily, speaking of the Gauls in the time of the

Republic, "eorum proelia plus quam virorum, postrema minu quam

foeminarum." Lib. 10, cap. 28.

[29] Two of the most distinguished of these were the Colonnas, Prospero

and Fabrizio, of whom frequent mention has been made in our narrative. The

best commentary on the military reputation of the latter, is the fact,

that he is selected by Machiavelli as the principal interlocutor in his

Dialogues on the Art of War.

[30] See Dubos, Ligue de Cambray, dissert. prelim., p. 60.--This French

writer has shown himself superior to national distinctions, in the liberal

testimony which he bears to the character of these brave troops. See a

similar strain of panegyric from the chivalrous pen of old Brantôme,

Oeuvres, tom. i. disc. 27.

CHAPTER XVI.

ILLNESS AND DEATH OF ISABELLA.--HER CHARACTER.

1504.

Decline of the Queen's Health.--Alarm of the Nation.--Her Testament.--And

Codicil.--Her Resignation and Death.--Her Remains Transported to Granada.

--Isabella's Person.--Her Manners.--Her Character.--Parallel with Queen

Elizabeth.

The acquisition of an important kingdom in the heart of Europe, and of the

New World beyond the waters, which promised to pour into her lap all the

fabled treasures of the Indies, was rapidly raising Spain to the first

rank of European powers. But, in this noontide of her success, she was to

experience a fatal shock in the loss of that illustrious personage, who

had so long and so gloriously presided over her destinies. We have had

occasion to notice more than once the declining state of the queen's

health during the last few years. Her constitution had been greatly

impaired by incessant personal fatigue and exposure, and by the

unremitting activity of her mind. It had suffered far more severely,

however, from a series of heavy domestic calamities, which had fallen on

her with little intermission since the death of her mother in 1496. The

next year, she followed to the grave the remains of her only son, the heir

and hope of the monarchy, just entering on his prime; and in the

succeeding, was called on to render the same sad offices to the best

beloved of her daughters, the amiable queen of Portugal.

The severe illness occasioned by this last blow terminated in a dejection

of spirits, from which she never entirely recovered. Her surviving

children were removed far from her into distant lands; with the occasional

exception, indeed, of Joanna, who caused a still deeper pang to her

mother's affectionate heart, by exhibiting infirmities which justified the

most melancholy presages for the future.

Far from abandoning herself to weak and useless repining, however,

Isabella sought consolation, where it was best to be found, in the

exercises of piety, and in the earnest discharge of the duties attached to

her exalted station. Accordingly, we find her attentive as ever to the

minutest interests of her subjects; supporting her great minister Ximenes

in his schemes of reform, quickening the zeal for discovery in the west,

and, at the close of the year 1503, on the alarm of the French invasion,

rousing her dying energies, to kindle a spirit of resistance in her

people. These strong mental exertions, however, only accelerated the decay

of her bodily strength, which was gradually sinking under that sickness of

the heart, which admits of no cure, and scarcely of consolation.

In the beginning of that very year she had declined so visibly, that the

cortes of Castile, much alarmed, petitioned her to provide for the

government of the kingdom after her decease, in case of the absence or

incapacity of Joanna. [1] She seems to have rallied in some measure after

this, but it was only to relapse into a state of greater debility, as her

spirits sunk under the conviction, which now forced itself on her, of her

daughter's settled insanity.

Early in the spring of the following year, that unfortunate lady embarked

for Flanders, where, soon after her arrival, the inconstancy of her

husband, and her own ungovernable sensibilities, occasioned the most

scandalous scenes. Philip became openly enamoured of one of the ladies of

her suite, and his injured wife, in a paroxysm of jealousy, personally

assaulted her fair rival in the palace, and caused the beautiful locks,

which had excited the admiration of her fickle husband, to be shorn from

her head. This outrage so affected Philip, that he vented his indignation

against Joanna in the coarsest and most unmanly terms, and finally refused

to have any further intercourse with her. [2]

The account of this disgraceful scene reached Castile in the month of

June. It occasioned the deepest chagrin and mortification to the unhappy

parents. Ferdinand soon after fell ill of a fever, and the queen was

seized with the same disorder, accompanied by more alarming symptoms. Her

illness was exasperated by anxiety for her husband, and she refused to

credit the favorable reports of his physicians while he was detained from

her presence. His vigorous constitution, however, threw off the malady,

while hers gradually failed under it. Her tender heart was more keenly

sensible than his to the unhappy condition of their child, and to the

gloomy prospects which awaited her beloved Castile. [3]

Her faithful follower, Martyr, was with the court at this time in Medina

del Campo. In a letter to the count of Tendilla, dated October 7th, he

states that the most serious apprehensions were entertained by the

physicians for the queen's fate. "Her whole system," he says, "is pervaded

by a consuming fever. She loathes food of every kind, and is tormented

with incessant thirst, while the disorder has all the appearance of

terminating in a dropsy." [4]

In the mean while, Isabella lost nothing of her solicitude for the welfare

of her people, and the great concerns of government. While reclining, as

she was obliged to do a great part of the day, on her couch, she listened

to the recital or reading of whatever occurred of interest, at home or

abroad. She gave audience to distinguished foreigners, especially such

Italians as could acquaint her with particulars of the late war, and,

above all, in regard to Gonsalvo de Cordova, in whose fortunes she had

always taken the liveliest concern. [5] She received with pleasure, too,

such intelligent travellers, as her renown had attracted to the Castilian

court. She drew forth their stores of various information, and dismissed

them, says a writer of the age, penetrated with the deepest admiration of

that masculine strength of mind, which sustained her so nobly under the

weight of a mortal malady. [6]

This malady was now rapidly gaining ground. On the 15th of October we have

another epistle of Martyr, of the following melancholy tenor. "You ask me

respecting the state of the queen's health. We sit sorrowful in the palace

all day long, tremblingly waiting the hour, when religion and virtue shall

quit the earth with her. Let us pray that we may be permitted to follow

hereafter where she is soon to go. She so far transcends all human

excellence, that there is scarcely anything of mortality about her. She

can hardly be said to die, but to pass into a nobler existence, which

should rather excite our envy than our sorrow. She leaves the world filled

with her renown, and she goes to enjoy life eternal with her God in

heaven. I write this," he concludes, "between hope and fear, while the

breath is still fluttering within her." [7]

The deepest gloom now overspread the nation. Even Isabella's long illness

had failed to prepare the minds of her faithful people for the sad

catastrophe. They recalled several ominous circumstances which had before

escaped their attention. In the preceding spring, an earthquake,

accompanied by a tremendous hurricane, such as the oldest men did not

remember, had visited Andalusia, and especially Carmona, a place belonging

to the queen, and occasioned frightful desolation there. The superstitious

Spaniards now read in these portents the prophetic signs, by which Heaven

announces some great calamity. Prayers were put up in every temple;

processions and pilgrimages made in every part of the country for the

recovery of their beloved sovereign,--but in vain. [8]

Isabella, in the mean time, was deluded with no false hopes. She felt too

surely the decay of her bodily strength, and she resolved to perform what

temporal duties yet remained for her, while her faculties were still

unclouded.

On the 12th of October she executed that celebrated testament, which

reflects so clearly the peculiar qualities of her mind and character. She

begins with prescribing the arrangements for her burial. She orders her

remains to be transported to Granada, to the Franciscan monastery of Santa

Isabella in the Alhambra, and there deposited in a low and humble

sepulchre, without other memorial than a plain inscription on it. "But,"

she continues, "should the king, my lord, prefer a sepulchre in some other

place, then my will is that my body be there transported, and laid by his

side; that the union we have enjoyed in this world, and, through the mercy

of God, may hope again for our souls in heaven, may be represented by our

bodies in the earth." Then, desirous of correcting by her example, in this

last act of her life, the wasteful pomp of funeral obsequies to which the

Castilians were addicted, she commands that her own should be performed in

the plainest and most unostentatious manner, and that the sum saved by

this economy should be distributed in alms among the poor.

She next provides for several charities, assigning, among others, marriage

portions for poor maidens, and a considerable sum for the redemption of

Christian captives in Barbary. She enjoins the punctual discharge of all

her personal debts within a year; she retrenches superfluous offices in

the royal household, and revokes all such grants, whether in the forms of

lands or annuities, as she conceives to have been made without sufficient

warrant. She inculcates on her successors the importance of maintaining

the integrity of the royal domains, and, above all, of never divesting

themselves of their title to the important fortress of Gibraltar.

After this, she comes to the succession of the crown, which she settles on

the infanta Joanna, as "queen proprietor," and the archduke Philip as her

husband. She gives them much good counsel respecting their future

administration; enjoining them, as they would secure the love and

obedience of their subjects, to conform in all respects to the laws and

usages of the realm, to appoint no foreigner to office,-an error, into

which Philip's connections, she saw, would be very likely to betray them,

--and to make no laws or ordinances, "which necessarily require the

consent of cortes," during their absence from the kingdom. [9] She

recommends to them the same conjugal harmony which had ever subsisted

between her and her husband; she beseeches them to show the latter all

the deference and filial affection "due to him beyond every other parent,

for his eminent virtues;" and finally inculcates on them the most tender

regard for the liberties and welfare of their subjects.

She next comes to the great question proposed by the cortes of 1503,

respecting the government of the realm in the absence or incapacity of

Joanna. She declares that, after mature deliberation, and with the advice

of many of the prelates and nobles of the kingdom, she appoints King

Ferdinand her husband to be the sole regent of Castile, in that exigency,

until the majority of her grandson Charles; being led to this, she adds,

"by the consideration of the magnanimity and illustrious qualities of the

king, my lord, as well as his large experience, and the great profit which

will redound to the state from his wise and beneficent rule." She

expresses her sincere conviction that his past conduct affords a

sufficient guarantee for his faithful administration, but, in compliance

with established usage, requires the customary oath from him on entering

on the duties of the office.

She then makes a specific provision for her husband's personal

maintenance, which, "although less than she could wish, and far less than

he deserves, considering the eminent services he had rendered the state,"

she settles at one-half of all the net proceeds and profits accruing from

the newly discovered countries in the west; together with ten million

maravedies annually, assigned on the _alcavalas_ of the grand-masterships

of the military orders.

After some additional regulations, respecting the descent of the crown on

failure of Joanna's lineal heirs, she recommends in the kindest and most

emphatic terms to her successors the various members of her household, and

her personal friends, among whom we find the names of the marquis and

marchioness of Moya, (Beatrice de Bobadilla, the companion of her youth,)

and Garcilasso de la Vega, the accomplished minister at the papal court.

And, lastly, concluding in the same beautiful strain of conjugal

tenderness in which she began, she says, "I beseech the king my lord, that

he will accept all my jewels, or such as he shall select, so that, seeing

them, he may be reminded of the singular love I always bore him while

living, and that I am now waiting for him in a better world; by which

remembrance he may be encouraged to live the more justly and holily in

this."

Six executors were named to the will. The two principal were the king and

the primate Ximenes, who had full powers to act in conjunction with any

one of the others. [10]

I have dwelt the more minutely on the details of Isabella's testament,

from the evidence it affords of her constancy in her dying hour to the

principles which had governed her through life; of her expansive and

sagacious policy; her prophetic insight into the evils to result from her

death,--evils, alas! which no forecast could avert; her scrupulous

attention to all her personal obligations; and that warm attachment to her

friends, which could never falter while a pulse beat in her bosom.

After performing this duty, she daily grew weaker, the powers of her mind

seeming to brighten as those of her body declined. The concerns of her

government still occupied her thoughts; and several public measures, which

she had postponed through urgency of other business, or growing

infirmities, pressed so heavily on her heart, that she made them the

subject of a codicil to her former will. It was executed November 23d,

only three days before her death.

Three of the provisions contained in it are too remarkable to pass

unnoticed. The first concerns the codification of the laws. For this

purpose, the queen appoints a commission to make a new digest of the

statutes and _pragmáticas_, the contradictory tenor of which still

occasioned much embarrassment in Castilian jurisprudence. This was a

subject she always had much at heart; but no nearer approach had been made

to it, than the valuable, though insufficient work of Montalvo, in the

early part of her reign; and, notwithstanding her precautions, none more

effectual was destined to take place till the reign of Philip the Second.

[11]

The second item had reference to the natives of the New World. Gross

abuses had arisen there since the partial revival of the _repartimientos_,

although Las Casas says, "intelligence of this was carefully kept from the

ears of the queen." [12] Some vague apprehension of the truth, however,

appears to have forced itself on her; and she enjoins her successors, in

the most earnest manner, to quicken the good work of converting and

civilizing the poor Indians, to treat them with the greatest gentleness,

and redress any wrongs they may have suffered in their persons or

property.

Lastly, she expresses her doubts as to the legality of the revenue drawn

from the _alcavalas_, constituting the principal income of the crown.

She directs a commission to ascertain whether it were originally intended

to be perpetual, and if this were done with the free consent of the

people; enjoining her heirs, in that event, to collect the tax so that it

should press least heavily on her subjects. Should it be found otherwise,

however, she directs that the legislature be summoned to devise proper

measures for supplying the wants of the crown,--"measures depending for

their validity on the good pleasure of the subjects of the realm." [13]

Such were the dying words of this admirable woman; displaying the same

respect for the rights and liberties of the nation, which she had shown

through life, and striving to secure the blessings of her benign

administration to the most distant and barbarous regions under her sway.

These two documents were a precious legacy bequeathed to her people, to

guide them when the light of her personal example should be withdrawn for

ever.

The queen's signature to the codicil, which still exists among the

manuscripts of the royal library at Madrid, shows, by its irregular and

scarcely legible characters, the feeble state to which she was then

reduced. [14] She had now adjusted all her worldly concerns, and she

prepared to devote herself, during the brief space which remained, to

those of a higher nature. It was but the last act of a life of

preparation. She had the misfortune, common to persons of her rank, to be

separated in her last moments from those whose filial tenderness might

have done so much to soften the bitterness of death. But she had the good

fortune, most rare, to have secured for this trying hour the solace of

disinterested friendship; for she beheld around her the friends of her

childhood, formed and proved in the dark season of adversity.

As she saw them bathed in tears around her bed, she calmly said, "Do not

weep for me, nor waste your time in fruitless prayers for my recovery, but

pray rather for the salvation of my soul." [15] On receiving the extreme

unction, she refused to have her feet exposed, as was usual on that

occasion; a circumstance, which, occurring at a time when there can be no

suspicion of affectation, is often noticed by Spanish writers, as a proof

of that sensitive delicacy and decorum, which distinguished her through

life. [16] At length, having received the sacraments, and performed all

the offices of a sincere and devout Christian, she gently expired a little

before noon, on Wednesday, November 26th, 1504, in the fifty-fourth year

of her age, and thirtieth of her reign. [17]

"My hand," says Peter Martyr, in a letter written on the same day to the

archbishop of Granada, "falls powerless by my side, for very sorrow. The

world has lost its noblest ornament; a loss to be deplored not only by

Spain, which she has so long carried forward in the career of glory, but

by every nation in Christendom; for she was the mirror of every virtue,

the shield of the innocent, and an avenging sword to the wicked. I know

none of her sex, in ancient or modern times, who in my judgment is at all

worthy to be named with this incomparable woman." [18]

No time was lost in making preparations for transporting the queen's body

unembalmed to Granada, in strict conformity to her orders. It was escorted

by a numerous _cortège_ of cavaliers and ecclesiastics, among whom

was the faithful Martyr. The procession began its mournful march the day

following her death, taking the route through Arevalo, Toledo, and Jaen.

Scarcely had it left Medina del Campo, when a tremendous tempest set in,

which continued with little interruption during the whole journey. The

roads were rendered nearly impassable; the bridges swept away, the small

streams swollen to the size of the Tagus, and the level country buried

under a deluge of water. Neither sun nor stars were seen during their

whole progress. The horses and mules were borne down by the torrents, and

the riders in several instances perished with them. "Never," exclaims

Martyr, "did I encounter such perils, in the whole of my hazardous

pilgrimage to Egypt." [19]

At length, on the 18th of December, the melancholy and way-worn cavalcade

reached the place of its destination; and, amidst the wild strife of the

elements, the peaceful remains of Isabella were laid, with simple

solemnities, in the Franciscan monastery of the Alhambra. Here, under the

shadow of those venerable Moslem towers, and in the heart of the capital

which her noble constancy had recovered for her country, they continued to

repose till after the death of Ferdinand, when they were removed to be

laid by his side, in the stately mausoleum of the cathedral church of

Granada. [20]

I shall defer the review of Queen Isabella's administration, until it can

be done in conjunction with that of Ferdinand; and shall confine myself at

present to such considerations on the prominent traits of her character,

as have been suggested by the preceding history of her life.

Her person, as mentioned in the early part of the narrative, was of the

middle height, and well proportioned. She had a clear, fresh complexion,

with light blue eyes and auburn hair,--a style of beauty exceedingly rare

in Spain. Her features were regular, and universally allowed to be

uncommonly handsome. [21] The illusion which attaches to rank, more

especially when united with engaging manners, might lead us to suspect

some exaggeration in the encomiums so liberally lavished on her. But they

would seem to be in a great measure justified by the portraits that remain

of her, which combine a faultless symmetry of features with singular

sweetness and intelligence of expression.

Her manners were most gracious and pleasing. They were marked by natural

dignity and modest reserve, tempered by an affability which flowed from

the kindliness of her disposition. She was the last person to be

approached with undue familiarity; yet the respect which she imposed was

mingled with the strongest feelings of devotion and love. She showed great

tact in accommodating herself to the peculiar situation and character of

those around her. She appeared in arms at the head of her troops, and

shrunk from none of the hardships of war. During the reforms introduced

into the religious houses, she visited the nunneries in person, taking her

needle-work with her, and passing the day in the society of the inmates.

When travelling in Galicia, she attired herself in the costume of the

country, borrowing for that purpose the jewels and other ornaments of the

ladies there, and returning them with liberal additions. [22] By this

condescending and captivating deportment, as well as by her higher

qualities, she gained an ascendency over her turbulent subjects, which no

king of Spain could ever boast.

She spoke the Castilian with much elegance and correctness. She had an

easy fluency of discourse, which, though generally of a serious

complexion, was occasionally seasoned with agreeable sallies, some of

which have passed into proverbs. [23] She was temperate even to

abstemiousness in her diet, seldom or never tasting wine; [24] and so

frugal in her table, that the daily expenses for herself and family did

not exceed the moderate sum of forty ducats. [25] She was equally simple

and economical in her apparel. On all public occasions, indeed, she

displayed a royal magnificence; [26] but she had no relish for it in

private, and she freely gave away her clothes [27] and jewels, [28] as

presents to her friends. Naturally of a sedate, though cheerful temper,

[29] she had little taste for the frivolous amusements which make up so

much of a court life; and, if she encouraged the presence of minstrels and

musicians in her palace, it was to wean her young nobility from the

coarser and less intellectual pleasures to which they were addicted. [30]

Among her moral qualities, the most conspicuous, perhaps, was her

magnanimity. She betrayed nothing little or selfish, in thought or action.

Her schemes were vast, and executed in the same noble spirit in which they

were conceived. She never employed doubtful agents or sinister measures,

but the most direct and open policy. [31.] She scorned to avail herself of

advantages offered by the perfidy of others. [32] Where she had once given

her confidence, she gave her hearty and steady support; and she was

scrupulous to redeem any pledge she had made to those who ventured in her

cause, however unpopular. She sustained Ximenes in all his obnoxious but

salutary reforms. She seconded Columbus in the prosecution of his arduous

enterprise, and shielded him from the calumny of his enemies. She did the

same good service to her favorite, Gonsalvo de Cordova; and the day of her

death was felt, and, as it proved, truly felt by both, as the last of

their good fortune. [33] Artifice and duplicity were so abhorrent to her

character, and so averse from her domestic policy, that when they appear

in the foreign relations of Spain, it is certainly not imputable to her.

She was incapable of harboring any petty distrust, or latent malice; and,

although stern in the execution and exaction of public justice, she made

the most generous allowance, and even sometimes advances, to those who had

personally injured her. [34]

But the principle, which gave a peculiar coloring to every feature of

Isabella's mind, was piety. It shone forth from the very depths of her

soul with a heavenly radiance, which illuminated her whole character.

Fortunately, her earliest years had been passed in the rugged school of

adversity, under the eye of a mother who implanted in her serious mind

such strong principles of religion as nothing in after life had power to

shake. At an early age, in the flower of youth and beauty, she was

introduced to her brother's court; but its blandishments, so dazzling to a

young imagination, had no power over hers; for she was surrounded by a

moral atmosphere of purity,

"Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt." [35]

Such was the decorum of her manners, that, though encompassed by false

friends and open enemies, not the slightest reproach was breathed on her

fair name in this corrupt and calumnious court.

She gave a liberal portion of her time to private devotions, as well as to

the public exercises of religion. [36] She expended large sums in useful

charities, especially in the erection of hospitals and churches, and the

more doubtful endowments of monasteries. [37] Her piety was strikingly

exhibited in that unfeigned humility, which, although the very essence of

our faith, is so rarely found; and most rarely in those whose great powers

and exalted stations seem to raise them above the level of ordinary

mortals. A remarkable illustration of this is afforded in the queen's

correspondence with Talavera, in which her meek and docile spirit is

strikingly contrasted with the puritanical intolerance of her confessor.

[38] Yet Talavera, as we have seen, was sincere, and benevolent at heart.

Unfortunately, the royal conscience was at times committed to very

different keeping; and that humility which, as we have repeatedly had

occasion to notice, made her defer so reverentially to her ghostly

advisers, led, under the fanatic Torquemada, the confessor of her early

youth, to those deep blemishes on her administration, the establishment of

the Inquisition, and the exile of the Jews.

But, though blemishes of the deepest dye on her administration, they are

certainly not to be regarded as such on her moral character. It will be

difficult to condemn her, indeed, without condemning the age; for these

very acts are not only excused, but extolled by her contemporaries, as

constituting her strongest claims to renown, and to the gratitude of her

country. [39] They proceeded from the principle, openly avowed by the

court of Rome, that zeal for the purity of the faith could atone for every

crime. This immoral maxim, flowing from the head of the church, was echoed

in a thousand different forms by the subordinate clergy, and greedily

received by a superstitious people. [40] It was not to be expected, that a

solitary woman, filled with natural diffidence of her own capacity on such

subjects, should array herself against those venerated counsellors, whom

she had been taught from her cradle to look to as the guides and guardians

of her conscience.

However mischievous the operations of the Inquisition may have been in

Spain, its establishment, in point of principle, was not worse than many

other measures, which have passed with far less censure, though in a much

more advanced and civilized age. [41] Where, indeed, during the sixteenth,

and the greater part of the seventeenth century, was the principle of

persecution abandoned by the dominant party, whether Catholic or

Protestant? And where that of toleration asserted, except by the weaker?

It is true, to borrow Isabella's own expression, in her letter to

Talavera, the prevalence of a bad custom cannot constitute its apology.

But it should serve much to mitigate our condemnation of the queen, that

she fell into no greater error, in the imperfect light in which she lived,

than was common to the greatest minds in a later and far riper period.

[42]

Isabella's actions, indeed, were habitually based on principle. Whatever

errors of judgment be imputed to her, she most anxiously sought in all

situations to discern and discharge her duty. Faithful in the dispensation

of justice, no bribe was large enough to ward off the execution of the

law. [43] No motive, not even conjugal affection, could induce her to make

an unsuitable appointment to public office. [44] No reverence for the

ministers of religion could lead her to wink at their misconduct; [45] nor

could the deference she entertained for the head of the church, allow her

to tolerate his encroachments on the rights of her crown. [46] She seemed

to consider herself especially bound to preserve entire the peculiar

claims and privileges of Castile, after its union under the same sovereign

with Aragon. [47] And although, "while her own will was law," says Peter

Martyr, "she governed in such a manner that it might appear the joint

action of both Ferdinand and herself," yet she was careful never to

surrender into his hands one of those prerogatives which belonged to her

as queen proprietor of the kingdom. [48]

Isabella's measures were characterized by that practical good sense,

without which the most brilliant parts may work more to the woe than to

the weal of mankind. Though engaged all her life in reforms, she had none

of the failings so common in reformers. Her plans, though vast, were never

visionary. The best proof of this is, that she lived to see most of them

realized.

She was quick to discern objects of real utility. She saw the importance

of the new discovery of printing, and liberally patronized it from the

first moment it appeared. [49] She had none of the exclusive, local

prejudices, too common with her countrymen. She drew talent from the most

remote quarters to her dominions, by munificent rewards. She imported

foreign artisans for her manufactures; foreign engineers and officers for

the discipline of her army; and foreign scholars to imbue her martial

subjects with more cultivated tastes. She consulted the useful in all her

subordinate regulations; in her sumptuary laws, for instance, directed

against the fashionable extravagances of dress, and the ruinous

ostentation, so much affected by the Castilians in their weddings and

funerals. [50] Lastly, she showed the same perspicacity in the selection

of her agents; well knowing that the best measures become bad in

incompetent hands.

But, although the skilful selection of her agents was an obvious cause of

Isabella's success, yet another, even more important, is to be found in

her own vigilance and untiring exertions. During the first busy and

bustling years of her reign, these exertions were of incredible magnitude.

She was almost always in the saddle, for she made all her journeys on

horseback; and she travelled with a rapidity, which made her always

present on the spot where her presence was needed. She was never

intimidated by the weather, or the state of her own health; and this

reckless exposure undoubtedly contributed much to impair her excellent

constitution. [51]

She was equally indefatigable in her mental application. After assiduous

attention to business through the day, she was often known to sit up all

night, dictating despatches to her secretaries. [52] In the midst of these

overwhelming cares, she found time to supply the defects of her early

education by learning Latin, so as to understand it without difficulty,

whether written or spoken; and indeed, in the opinion of a competent

judge, to attain a critical accuracy in it. [53] As she had little turn

for light amusements, she sought relief from graver cares by some useful

occupation appropriate to her sex; and she left ample evidence of her

skill in this way, in the rich specimens of embroidery, wrought with her

own fair hands, with which she decorated the churches. She was careful to

instruct her daughters in these more humble departments of domestic duty;

for she thought nothing too humble to learn, which was useful. [54]

With all her high qualifications, Isabella would have been still unequal

to the achievement of her grand designs, without possessing a degree of

fortitude rare in either sex; not the courage, which implies contempt of

personal danger,--though of this she had a larger share than falls to most

men; [55] nor that which supports its possessor under the extremities of

bodily pain,--though of this she gave ample evidence, since she endured

the greatest suffering her sex is called to bear, without a groan; [56]

but that moral courage, which sustains the spirit in the dark hour of

adversity, and, gathering light from within to dispel the darkness,

imparts its own cheering influence to all around. This was shown

remarkably in the stormy season which ushered in her accession, as well as

through the whole of the Moorish war. It was her voice that decided never

to abandon Alhama. [57] Her remonstrances compelled the king and nobles to

return to the field, when they had quitted it, after an ineffectual

campaign. As dangers and difficulties multiplied, she multiplied resources

to meet them; and, when her soldiers lay drooping under the evils of some

protracted siege, she appeared in the midst, mounted on her war-horse,

with her delicate limbs cased in knightly mail; [58] and, riding through

their ranks, breathed new courage into their hearts by her own intrepid

bearing. To her personal efforts, indeed, as well as counsels, the success

of this glorious war may be mainly imputed; and the unsuspicious testimony

of the Venetian minister, Navagiero, a few years later, shows that the

nation so considered it. "Queen Isabel," says he, "by her singular genius,

masculine strength of mind, and other virtues most unusual in our own sex,

as well as hers, was not merely of great assistance in, but the chief

cause of the conquest of Granada. She was, indeed, a most rare and

virtuous lady, one of whom the Spaniards talk far more than of the king,

sagacious as he was, and uncommon for his time." [59]

Happily, these masculine qualities in Isabella did not extinguish the

softer ones which constitute the charm of her sex. Her heart overflowed

with affectionate sensibility to her family and friends. She watched over

the declining days of her aged mother, and ministered to her sad

infirmities with all the delicacy of filial tenderness. [60] We have seen

abundant proofs how fondly and faithfully she loved her husband to the

last, [61] though this love was not always as faithfully requited. [62]

For her children she lived more than for herself; and for them too she

died, for it was their loss and their afflictions which froze the current

of her blood, before age had time to chill it. Her exalted state did not

remove her above the sympathies of friendship. [63.] With her friends she

forgot the usual distinctions of rank, sharing in their joys, visiting and

consoling them in sorrow and sickness, and condescending in more than one

instance to assume the office of executrix on their decease. [64] Her

heart, indeed, was filled with benevolence to all mankind. In the most

fiery heat of war, she was engaged in devising means for mitigating its

horrors. She is said to have been the first to introduce the benevolent

institution of camp hospitals; and we have seen, more than once, her

lively solicitude to spare the effusion of blood even of her enemies. But

it is needless to multiply examples of this beautiful, but familiar trait

in her character. [65]

It is in these more amiable qualities of her sex, that Isabella's

superiority becomes most apparent over her illustrious namesake, Elizabeth

of England, [66] whose history presents some features parallel to her own.

Both were disciplined in early life by the teachings of that stern nurse

of wisdom, adversity. Both were made to experience the deepest humiliation

at the hands of their nearest relative, who should have cherished and

protected them. Both succeeded in establishing themselves on the throne

after the most precarious vicissitudes. Each conducted her kingdom,

through a long and triumphant reign, to a height of glory, which it had

never before reached. Both lived to see the vanity of all earthly

grandeur, and to fall the victims of an inconsolable melancholy; and both

left behind an illustrious name, unrivalled in the subsequent annals of

their country.

But, with these few circumstances of their history, the resemblance

ceases. Their characters afford scarcely a point of contact. Elizabeth,

inheriting a large share of the bold and bluff King Harry's temperament,

was haughty, arrogant, coarse, and irascible; while with these fiercer

qualities she mingled deep dissimulation and strange irresolution.

Isabella, on the other hand, tempered the dignity of royal station with

the most bland and courteous manners. Once resolved, she was constant in

her purposes, and her conduct in public and private life was characterized

by candor and integrity. Both may be said to have shown that magnanimity

which is implied by the accomplishment of great objects in the face of

great obstacles. But Elizabeth was desperately selfish; she was incapable

of forgiving, not merely a real injury, but the slightest affront to her

vanity; and she was merciless in exacting retribution. Isabella, on the

other hand, lived only for others,--was ready at all times to sacrifice

self to considerations of public duty; and, far from personal resentments,

showed the greatest condescension and kindness to those who had most

sensibly injured her; while her benevolent heart sought every means to

mitigate the authorized severities of the law, even towards the guilty.

[67]

Both possessed rare fortitude. Isabella, indeed, was placed in situations,

which demanded more frequent and higher displays of it than her rival; but

no one will doubt a full measure of this quality in the daughter of Henry

the Eighth. Elizabeth was better educated, and every way more highly

accomplished than Isabella. But the latter knew enough to maintain her

station with dignity; and she encouraged learning by a munificent

patronage. [68] The masculine powers and passions of Elizabeth seemed to

divorce her in a great measure from the peculiar attributes of her sex; at

least from those which constitute its peculiar charm; for she had

abundance of its foibles,--a coquetry and love of admiration, which age

could not chill; a levity, most careless, if not criminal; [69] and a

fondness for dress and tawdry magnificence of ornament, which was

ridiculous, or disgusting, according to the different periods of life in

which it was indulged. [70] Isabella, on the other hand, distinguished

through life for decorum of manners, and purity beyond the breath of

calumny, was content with the legitimate affection which she could inspire

within the range of her domestic circle. Far from a frivolous affectation

of ornament or dress, she was most simple in her own attire, and seemed to

set no value on her jewels, but as they could serve the necessities of the

state; [71] when they could be no longer useful in this way, she gave them

away, as we have seen, to her friends.

Both were uncommonly sagacious in the selection of their ministers; though

Elizabeth was drawn into some errors in this particular, by her levity,

[72] as was Isabella by religious feeling. It was this, combined with her

excessive humility, which led to the only grave errors in the

administration of the latter. Her rival fell into no such errors; and she

was a stranger to the amiable qualities which led to them. Her conduct was

certainly not controlled by religious principle; and, though the bulwark

of the Protestant faith, it might be difficult to say whether she were at

heart most a Protestant or a Catholic. She viewed religion in its

connection with the state, in other words, with herself; and she took

measures for enforcing conformity to her own views, not a whit less

despotic, and scarcely less sanguinary, than those countenanced for

conscience' sake by her more bigoted rival. [73]

This feature of bigotry, which has thrown a shade over Isabella's

otherwise beautiful character, might lead to a disparagement of her

intellectual power compared with that of the English queen. To estimate

this aright, we must contemplate the results of their respective reigns.

Elizabeth found all the materials of prosperity at hand, and availed

herself of them most ably to build up a solid fabric of national grandeur.

Isabella created these materials. She saw the faculties of her people

locked up in a deathlike lethargy, and she breathed into them the breath

of life for those great and heroic enterprises, which terminated in such

glorious consequences to the monarchy. It is when viewed from the

depressed position of her early days, that the achievements of her reign

seem scarcely less than miraculous. The masculine genius of the English

queen stands out relieved beyond its natural dimensions by its separation

from the softer qualities of her sex. While her rival's, like some vast

but symmetrical edifice, loses in appearance somewhat of its actual

grandeur from the perfect harmony of its proportions.

The circumstances of their deaths, which were somewhat similar, displayed

the great dissimilarity of their characters. Both pined amidst their royal

state, a prey to incurable despondency, rather than any marked bodily

distemper. In Elizabeth it sprung from wounded vanity, a sullen conviction

that she had outlived the admiration on which she had so long fed,--and

even the solace of friendship, and the attachment of her subjects. Nor did

she seek consolation, where alone it was to be found, in that sad hour.

Isabella, on the other hand, sunk under a too acute sensibility to the

sufferings of others. But, amidst the gloom which gathered around her, she

looked with the eye of faith to the brighter prospects which unfolded of

the future; and, when she resigned her last breath, it was amidst the

tears and universal lamentations of her people.

It is in this undying, unabated attachment of the nation, indeed, that we

see the most unequivocal testimony to the virtues of Isabella. In the

downward progress of things in Spain, some of the most ill-advised

measures of her administration have found favor and been perpetuated,

while the more salutary have been forgotten. This may lead to a

misconception of her real merits. In order to estimate these, we must

listen to the voice of her contemporaries, the eye-witnesses of the

condition in which she found the state, and in which she left it. We shall

then see but one judgment formed of her, whether by foreigners or natives.

The French and Italian writers equally join in celebrating the triumphant

glories of her reign, and her magnanimity, wisdom, and purity of

character. [74] Her own subjects extol her as "the most brilliant exemplar

of every virtue," and mourn over the day of her death as "the last of the

prosperity and happiness of their country." [75] While those who had

nearer access to her person are unbounded in their admiration of those

amiable qualities, whose full power is revealed only in the unrestrained

intimacies of domestic life. [76] The judgment of posterity has ratified

the sentence of her own age. The most enlightened Spaniards of the present

day, by no means insensible to the errors of her government, but more

capable of appreciating its merits than those of a less instructed age,

bear honorable testimony to her deserts; and, while they pass over the

bloated magnificence of succeeding monarchs, who arrest the popular eye,

dwell with enthusiasm on Isabella's character, as the most truly great in

their line of princes. [77]

FOOTNOTES

[1] Mariana, Hist. de España, tom. ii. lib. 28, cap. 11.--Zurita, Anales,

tom. v. lib. 5, cap. 84.

[2] Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib. 19, cap. 16.--Peter Martyr, Opus

Epist., epist. 271, 272.--Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 46.--Carbajal,

Anales, MS., año 1504.

[3] Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 46, 47.--Peter Martyr, Opus Epist.,

epist. 273.--Carbajal, Anales, MS., año 1504.

[4] Opus Epist., epist. 274.

[5] A short time before her death, she received a visit from the

distinguished officer, Prospero Colonna. The Italian noble, on being

presented to King Ferdinand, told him, that "he had come to Castile to

behold the woman, who from her sick bed ruled the world;" "ver una señora

que desde la cama mandava al mundo." Sandoval, Hist. del Emp. Carlos V.,

tom. i. p. 8.--Carta de Gonzalo, MS.

[6] Gomez, De Rebus Gestis, fol. 47.

Among the foreigners introduced to the queen at this time, was a

celebrated Venetian traveller, named Vianelli, who presented her with a

cross of pure gold set with precious stones, among which was a carbuncle

of inestimable value. The liberal Italian met with rather an uncourtly

rebuke from Ximenes, who told him, on leaving the presence, that "he had

rather have the money his diamonds cost, to spend in the service of the

church, than all the gems of the Indies." Ibid.

[7] Opus Epist., epist. 276.

[8] Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 200, 201.--Carbajal, Anales,

MS., año 1504.--Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib. 19, cap. 16.--Zuñiga,

Annales de Sevilla, pp. 423, 424.

[9] "Ni fagan fnera de los dichos mis Reynos e Señorios, Leyes e

Premáticas, ni las otras cosas que en Cortes se deven hazer segand las

Leyes de ellos;" (Testamento, apud Dormer, Discursos Varios, p. 343;) an

honorable testimony to the legislative rights of the cortes, which

contrasts strongly with the despotic assumption of preceding and

succeeding princes.

[10] I have before me three copies of Isabella's testament; one in MS.,

apud Carbajal, Anales, año 1504; a second printed in the beautiful

Valencia edition of Mariana, tom. ix. apend. no. 1; and a third published

in Dormer's Discursos Varios de Historia, pp. 314-388. I am not aware that

it has been printed elsewhere.

[11] The "Ordenanjas Reales de Castilla," published in 1484, and the

"Pragmáticas del Reyno," first printed in 1503, comprehend the general

legislation of this reign; a particular account of which the reader may

find in Part I. Chapter 6, and Part II. Chapter 26, of this History.

[12] Las Casas, who will not be suspected of sycophancy, remarks, in his

narrative of the destruction of the Indies, "Les plus grandes horreurs de

ces guerres et de cette boucherie commencèrent aussitôt qu'on sut en

Amérique que la reine Isabelle venait de mourir; car jusqu'alors il ne

s'était pas commis autant de crimes dans l'île Espagnole, et l'on avait

même eu soin de les cacher à cette princesse, parce qu'elle ne cessait de

recommander de traiter les Indiens avec douceur, et de ne rien négliger

pour les rendre heureux: _j'ai vu, ainsi que beaucoup d'Espagnols, les

lettres qu'elle écrivait à ce sujet, et les ordres qu'elle envoyait; ce

qui prouve que cette admirable reine aurait mis fin à tant de cruautés, si

elle avait pu les connaître_." Oeuvres, ed. de Llorente, tom. i. p. 21.

[13] The original codicil is still preserved among the manuscripts of the

Royal Library at Madrid. It is appended to the queen's testament in the

works before noticed.

[14] Clemencin has given a fac-simile of this last signature of the queen,

in the Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., tom. vi. Ilust. 21.

[15] L. Marineo, Cosas Memorables, fol. 187.--Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii.

lib. 19, cap. 16.

[16] Arevalo, Historia Palentina, MS., apud Mem. de la Acad. de Hist.,

tom. vi. p. 572.--L. Marineo, Cosas Memorables, fol. 187.--Garibay,

Compendio, ubi supra.

[17] Isabella was born April 22d, 1451, and ascended the throne December

12th, 1474.

[18] Opus Epist., epist. 279.

[19] Opus Epist., epist. 280.--The text does not exaggerate the language

of the epistle.

[20] Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 201.--Carbajal, Anales, MS.,

año 1504.--Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib. 19, cap. 16.--Zurita, tom. v.

lib. 5, cap. 84.--Navagiero, Viaggio, fol. 23.

[21] The Curate of Los Palacios remarks of her, "Fue muger hermosa, de muy

gentil cuerpo, e gesto, e composicion." (Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 201.)

Pulgar, another contemporary, eulogizes "el mirar muy gracioso, y honesto,

las facciones del rostro bien puestas, la cara toda muy hermosa." (Reyes

Católicos, part. 1, cap. 4.) L. Marineo says, "Todo lo que avia en el rey

de dignidad, se hallava en la reyna de graciosa hermosura, y en entrambos

se mostrava una majestad venerable, aunque a juyzio de muchos la reyna era

de mayor hermosura." (Cosas Memorables, fol. 182.) And Oviedo, who had

likewise frequent opportunities of personal observation, does not hesitate

to declare, "En hermosura puestas delante de S. A. todas las mugeres que

yo he visto, ninguna vi tan graciosa, ni tanto de ver como su persona."

Quincuagenas, MS.

[22] Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., tom. vi. Ilust. 8.

[23] Ibid., ubi supra.

[24] L. Marineo, Cosas Memorables, fol. 182.--Pulgar, Reyes Católicos,

part. 1, cap, 4.

[25] Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., tom. vi. p. 323.

[26] Such occasions have rare charms, of course, for the gossipping

chroniclers of the period. See, among others, the gorgeous ceremonial of

the baptism and presentation of Prince John at Seville, 1478, as related

by the good Curate of Los Palacios. (Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 32, 33.)

"Isabella was surrounded and served," says Pulgar, "by grandees and lords

of the highest rank, so that it was said she maintained too great pomp;

_pompa demasiada_." Reyes Católicos, part. 1, cap. 4.

[27] Florez quotes a passage from an original letter of the queen, written

soon after one of her progresses into Galicia, showing her habitual

liberality in this way. "Decid a doña Luisa, que porque vengo de Galicia

desecha de vestidos, no le envio para su hermana; que no tengo agora cosa

buena; mas yo ge los enviare presto buenos." Reynas Cathólicas, tom. ii.

p. 839.

[28] See the magnificent inventory presented to her daughter-in-law,

Margaret of Austria, and to her daughter Maria, queen of Portugal, apud

Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., tom. vi. Ilust. 12.

[29] "Alegre," says the author of "Carro de las Doñas," "de una alegria

honesta y mui mesurada." Ibid., p. 558.

[30] Among the retainers of the court, Bernaldez notices "la moltitud de

poetas, de trobadores, e músicos de todas partes." Reyes Católicos, MS.,

cap. 201.

[31] "Queria que sus cartas é mandamientos fuesen complidos con

diligencia." Pulgar, Reyes Católicos, part. 1, cap. 4

[32] See a remarkable instance of this, in her treatment of the faithless

Juan de Corral, noticed in Part I. Chapter 10, of this History.

[33] The melancholy tone of Columbus's correspondence after the queen's

death, shows too well the color of his fortunes and feelings. (Navarrete,

Coleccion de Viages, tom. i. pp. 341 et seq.) The sentiments of the Great

Captain were still more unequivocally expressed, according to Giovio. "Nec

multis inde diebus Regina fato concessit, incredibili cum dolore atque

jacturâ Consalvi; nam ab eâ tanquam alumnus, ac in ejus regiâ educatus,

cuncta quae exoptari possent virtutis et dignitatis incrementa ademptum

fuisse fatebatur, rege ipso quanquam minus benigno parumque liberali

nunquam reginae voluntati reluctari anso. Id vero praeclare tanquam

verissimum apparuit elatâ reginâ." Vitae Illust. Virorum, p. 275.

[34] The reader may recall a striking example of this, in the early part

of her reign, in her great tenderness and forbearance towards the humors

of Carillo, archbishop of Toledo, her quondam friend, but then her most

implacable foe.

[35] Isabella at her brother's court might well have sat for the whole of

Milton's beautiful portraiture.