CHAP. V.

PROGRESS OF CHIVALRY IN SPAIN.

General Nature of Spanish Chivalry ... Religion and Heroism ... Gallantry ... Blending of Spanish and Oriental Manners ... Its beneficial Tendencies ... Peculiarities of Spanish Chivalry ... Forms of Knighthood ... Various Ranks of Knights ... Spanish Poetry ... Heroes of Chivalry ... Pelayo ... Bernardo del Carpio ... And incidentally of Charlemagne’s Expedition into Spain ... The Life of the Cid ... His early ferocious Heroism ... His singular Marriage ... Enters the Service of King Ferdinand ... The Cid’s Chivalric Gallantry ... He is knighted ... Death of King Ferdinand ... The Cid becomes the Knight of Sancho, King of Castile ... Mixture of Evil and Good in the Cid’s Character ... Supports the King in his Injustice. ... The Cid’s romantic Heroism ... Sancho’s further Injustice opposed by him ... Death of Sancho ... Instance of the Cid’s virtuous Boldness ... Character of Alfonso, Successor of Sancho ... Story of his chivalric Bearing ... The Cid’s second Marriage ... Is banished from Alfonso’s Court ... Becomes the Ally of the Moors. ... But recalled ... Is banished again ... Singular Story of the Cid’s unknightly Meanness ... Fortunes of the Cid during his Exile ... The Cid’s chivalric Nobleness and Generosity ... Is recalled by Alfonso ... The Cid captures Toledo ... and Valentia ... Story of Spanish Manners ... The Cid’s unjust Conduct to the Moors ... The unchivalric Character of the Cid’s Wife and Daughters ... The Cid recalled by Alfonso ... The Marriages of his Daughters ... Basely treated by their Husbands ... Cortez at Toledo to decide the Cause ... Picture of ancient Manners ... Death of the Cid ... His Character ... Fate of his good Horse ... Spanish Chivalry after his Death ... Gallantry of a Knight ... The Merits of Missals decided by Battle ... Passage of Arms at Orbigo ... Knights travel and joust for Ladies’ Love ... Extinction of Spanish Chivalry.

General nature of Spanish chivalry.

Spanish chivalry awakens the most splendid and romantic associations of the mind. Europe, with her active courage,—her jealousy of honour,—her superior religion;—Asia, with her proud and lofty deportment,—her fervid and sublimated imagination, and the magnificent ceremonial of her pomp,—formed the knight of Spain; and, in consequence of this influence of Orientalism on his character, he represents the stateliness of chivalry as perfectly as the English cavalier its adventurousness, and the French its gaiety.

Religion and heroism.

There was an interesting blending of religious enthusiasm and romantic heroism in the Spaniard. His warm and creative imagination transformed the patron-saint of his country into a knight. He always saw St. James at his side, mounted on a stately white horse, and fighting the battles of Christianity and Spain; and, as if these chivalric exploits were not sufficient, he represented him as the professed and powerful champion of distressed damsels; for he supposed that this celestial ally had freed the nation from paying the annual tribute of a hundred Christian virgins to their infidel enemies.[171]

Gallantry.

Spain, too, appears to our fancy as the very land of chivalric love,—of love which was bred amidst difficulties and dangers, where the undistinguishable throng of “hopes and fears that kindle hope” gave a more imaginative cast to the feelings than can be known in the more settled frame of modern society. There was not only the feudal baron violating the laws of courtesy, as in other countries, but bands of Moors were careering over the plains, who did not think that woman was an object utterly unworthy of a perilous quest. Here, then, all the beautiful romance of knight-errantry might be realised; and in the breast of the rescued damsel love would spring from gratitude.

Blending of Spanish and Oriental manners.

The germs of chivalry existed in the minds of the Visigoths, who overthrew the dominion of the Romans in Spain. Military investiture, respect for women, and the sports of hawking and hunting, were the new circumstances in Spanish character and manners: but in the times of those wretched barbarians, the Visigoths, it is in vain to search for the perfect developement of the chivalric character. Chivalry appears only in few and fitful gleams in those dark times; and her golden light did not shine in full and bright display till the days of the Arabians; and, throughout their long reign of seven centuries, it had a very remarkable effect on circumstances and characters. As its glory was personal, chivalry abated much of the fierceness of a religious or a national war; for the cavalier could admire, even in an enemy, qualities which it was his own pride and ambition to possess.

The nations met in the graceful encounter of the tournament, as well as in the more perilous battle-field; and the interchange of chivalric courtesies, when the image of war was exhibited, could not but mitigate the ferocity of real hostilities. At the Moorish or Christian festivals, a gallant soldier of the opposite religion would appear, and challenge the bravest of his adversaries to maintain the superiority of his nation and faith; and in maintaining that cause the cavaleresque deportment of the combatants was admired, when the avowed object of their encounter was forgotten; for the object of the assembly was amusement; and the eye and fancy were addressed in these gentle exercises and proofs of arms.[172]

Its beneficial tendencies.

The people of the two religions insensibly mingled, and each adopted something of the thoughts and manners of the other. If the Christian taught the Moors to use the lance of courtesy, the Christian learnt from the Moors to throw the cane, which was afterwards such a favourite Spanish amusement. From them, too, the knights of Spain adopted the javelin, and used it instead of the lance. They were wont to hurl it as forcibly as any Asiatic or Grecian heroes could have done; for a greater defence than what was afforded by mail and a quilted jacket was required to resist the stroke.[173]

The poets who lived in the chivalric days of Spain invariably gave the moral and personal costume of chivalry to the Arabian as often as to the European. Thus Calaynos, the Moor[174], is as much celebrated in the romances of Spain as the Cid himself; and it was the general confession that the knights of Granada were gentlemen although Moors.[175] This amalgamation of character formed the basis of those unions between the Arabians and the Spaniards which are so frequently recorded in the history of the Peninsula, and which strike the reader as incredible. It has been thought for the glory of the nation to represent the struggle as of ceaseless duration for seven long centuries, and too fierce to allow of the sheathing of the sword: but these alliances were so common, that Spain often presented the appearance of a number of petty states, each attempting to draw the others into its vortex, rather than the general cause of the Cross warring with the Crescent. Independently of these alliances there was scarcely a Christian cavalier of fame who did not in the course of his military career wield his good sword in the ranks of the Musulmans.

Among the blessings which sprang from this free intercourse, religious toleration was not the least valuable one. Spain, which in later times has been so remarkable for the cruelties of its bigotry, was in early days the only country of Europe where religious liberty could breathe. Since the Moors and Christians often treated each other as separate powers, mutual toleration ensued, and this liberal feeling in the minds of the Christians extended itself beyond the pale of their Moorish subjects and allies. The fathers of the Reformation were the Albigenses, many of whom were sheltered by the kings of Arragon, while their brethren were persecuted to death in France. No church, save that of England, was in such continued opposition to the papacy as the Spanish; and in every great dispute it espoused the cause of the heretics, as the assertors of the liberty of the human will were always called.

The humanities of chivalry were not limited to toleration or mercy, to the mosque or the field of battle, but Moors and Christians often lived in the same town, and commingled social charities. Friendships were formed, and, maugre the declamation of bigots, dearer affections attached the two nations. The knight was in consequence of the obligations of his chivalry the friend of the distressed; and when beauty pleaded, his heart forbad him from enquiring in what religion the damsel had been educated. The passion of love in the breast of the Spanish cavalier was not more fervid or intense than in the breast of the cavalier of any other country. If the Spaniard be considered as a Goth by birth, and an Arab by education, still his natural and artificial circumstances formed but the same character of passion; for both the Goth and the Arab adored as well as loved their mistress, and regarded her as a divinity as well as an object of affection.

Peculiarities of Spanish chivalry.

There was a gravity, perhaps a jealousy, both qualities of Oriental origin, about the conduct of the Spanish knight, which were foreign to the nature of the chivalry of other countries. The expression of his feelings was unlike theirs. Bold metaphors, rich and varied imagery and glowing sentiments, are mixed with the simple developement of passion; and these orientalisms of his verse are not the elaborate and artificial ornaments with which fiction dresses up her image of passion: but as the mind of the Spaniard had been trained by the Arab, it became natural to him to nourish his affection in the splendid dreamings of the East. If he borrowed ideas and fancies from the Moor, it must be remembered that he likewise freely communicated the character of his own system. In no Mohammedan country was woman so high in moral rank as in Spain. The Musulman woman was not passion’s object, but, like the lady in chivalry, she was the origin of honour; for she sat in the tournament as the judge of valour, and the Moorish knight received the guerdon of triumph from her hands. Asiatic jealousy abated something of its nature and its forms in Spain; for there woman mingled with man in social intercourse, and her beauties were not always shrouded by a veil.[176]

Forms of knighthood.

The forms of chivalric initiation in Spain were similar to those in other countries. The bath—confession—vigil in a church—mass—the spurs—the girding with the sword—the accolade,—these were the chief ceremonies. The knight by his oath expressed willingness to die either for the defence of his law, or of his king or country.[177] The sword was then ungirt from him by some person of honour, who by so doing was supposed to become his padrino, or godfather in chivalry, and to confirm the knighthood thus bestowed. No circumstances could ever justify the cavalier in bearing arms against his padrino. He was, on the contrary, to defend him by his sword and his counsel to the utmost of his ability, and to be every thing to him, as a man was to his lord in feudal relation.

These were the ancient ceremonies; but they were simplified in subsequent times. The mere dubbing was then held sufficient; and, by a law of Ferdinand and Isabella, in 1476, it was ordained that it should be at the pleasure of the King to use the old forms or not, and that the dignity of knighthood should be equally illustrious if they were omitted.

Various ranks of knights.

The highest class of knights in Spain was formed of the Knights of the Spur, the Cavalleros de Espuela d’Orada. They were always hidalgos, or gentlemen of birth of three descents. Kings’ sons were of this class of knighthood; and no one was crowned till he had been invested with the order.[178]

Among the privileges of a knight of the Golden Spur, it is curious to notice that no person could sit at table with him except one of his own rank; no one of an inferior order was permitted to deny the infallibility of his opinion, and to contradict him: and for offences against the state, a knight of this class was to be beheaded, and not put to death in the vulgar mode.

The circumstances in his conduct which were punishable with degradation are interesting, as descriptive of Spanish manners. It was thought necessary to forbid him from stealing the arms of another knight, from selling his own, or losing them at play, or giving them to courtezans. The punishment of degradation, as consequent on the admission of improper persons into the order, is intelligible and just: his girdle and spur-leathers were also to be cut, if he exercised any trade; except, indeed, in captivity, when he was kindly permitted to support his life by the best means of his ingenuity.[179]

The other class of knights was formed of cavalleros Armados, who enjoyed most of the privileges of nobility. A knight of this rank was free from the payment of taxes and tribute; and so were the knights of the Golden Spur, not, however, as knights, but as hidalgos. The cavalleros d’Armados were always made by the king’s own hand; but the right of creating cavalleros d’Espuela d’Orada existed in the will of every cavalier of the order, though it was usually exercised only by the king.

These were the two bodies in which the chivalry of Spain was arranged. The title of Cavallero was also given to every man who was a soldier, in consequence of holding his lands by a military and feudal tenure; but he was not, from that circumstance, necessarily a knight. Regarding chivalry as an order of merit, the cavalleros d’Espuela d’Orada and the cavalleros d’Armados were the only true chivalric knights in Spain.

There were some interesting circumstances in Spanish chivalry. Thus, in Catalonia, besides the squire who bore his shield and lance, each knight was attended by an armed man, whose title was, Companion of the Knight, and who was considered as a gentleman that followed the art of chivalry. He was also attached to the knight by feudal relations; for the knight was compelled to grant him land, or rent, in fealty. A knight who was entitled to be attended by this companion was a knight by creation, a miles vero; and he who had not received the order of chivalry, although an hidalgo, was considered as a knight minor, whom, indeed, chivalry would have disowned, but that his birth, rank, and fortune, made him a part of the military state.[180]

It is curious to notice that, by the general laws of Spanish chivalry, it was usual for every knight to embrace a newly-made knight the first time he met him, in honour of faith and love; and it was contrary to those laws for one knight to affront another, unless he should first send his defiance or publication of that breach of the bond of companionship.

Spanish poetry.

The pillars of Spanish chivalry were of the same quality and character as those of other countries. Spain had her military orders, her institutions of Calatrava, Saint James, and Alcantara; while the militia of the Temple and the friars of the Hospital were richer in possessions in Spain than in any country of the West. She had, also, her ballads and romances, in prose and verse, descriptive of the wars and loves of chivalry: but I cannot discover, with some writers, that the chivalric muse sung either a sweeter or a higher strain in Spain than in France or England. Her minstrelsy, indeed, was peculiar, and so was her national character. On one side, longings for patriotic independence, and consequent hatred of the Moors; on the other, the loves and friendships of humanity, unaffected by difference of religion or country. The Troubadour chaunted his lays of love and war in Spain; and his appeals found a ready way to the heart in Arragon; for of that part of the Peninsula the Provençal was the vernacular dialect.

Heroes of chivalry. Pelayo.

Spain is rich in her heroes, both of romance and chivalry. The Spaniard will not acknowledge that the Moor was, for a moment, left in tranquil possession of his conquest; and he points to a hero, named Pelayo, as collecting the remnants of the Christians in the mountains of Asturias, immediately after the general triumph of the Moorish arms. He resisted the Moors till his three hundred followers dwindled to thirty. His enemies then left him to perish, for hitherto his food had only been honey, found in the crevices of the rocks. But, in after times, the folly of this disdain was seen; for these thirty men were the nucleus round which the scattered Spaniards collected.[181]

Bernardo del Carpio.

Truth does not cast many gleams on Bernardo del Carpio, the next in time and rank of Spanish knights. If we may credit the historians of his country, it was he who nourished, in the Asturias, the plant of national liberty; for when Alfonso the Chaste would have made the land over which he ruled part of the dominions of Charlemagne, the nobility, headed by Bernardo, repelled the invader, and annihilated the French peerage at Fontarabbia. Much of this, perhaps the whole, is the mere dreaming of national pride, not deserving regard: but when I find mingled with the story the assertion that Bernardo gained the alliance of some of the Moors, and that, in after parts of his life, he fought also under Moorish banners, I accept these circumstances as valuable, and consider them as indications of general principles and manners, whoever may be the hero of the tale.

Charlemagne’s expedition into Spain.

Of the far-famed expedition of Charlemagne into Spain, little or nothing is known, though some French writers have defined the extent of his dominion in that country with the precision with which the political changes of modern times can be traced. Tradition, song, and history, unite in proving that he went into Catalonia and Arragon; but it does not seem that he established any government in those countries; and his march was rather the wild adventure of a knight than the grave purpose of kingly ambition. The Spaniards, as we have seen, claim the honour of defeating him in the valley of Ronscesvalles; but the Arabs also assert their title to the same feat of chivalry: and, still further to embarrass the matter, it has been contended, with equal plausibility, that the French under Charlemagne were worsted by the Navarrese and people of Acquitain; and thus that the French of the Adour and the Garonne defeated the French of the Seine. The land between the Ebro and the Pyrenees, and called the Spanish March, was governed, some centuries before the twelfth, by the counts of Barcelona, who owned the feudal sovereignty of the kings of France. This territorial acquisition has been generally referred to the sword of Charlemagne, not, however, on sound historical proof, but rather from the practice of monkish chroniclers, of honouring that emperor with all the deeds of arms which could not accurately be ascribed to any other warrior.

The life of the Cid.

In the life of Count Fernan Gonsalez fiction and fact are blended beyond all power of extrication; and we must descend to the eleventh century for a genuine picture of the Spanish cavalier. No one is dearer to the proud recollections of a Spaniard than the Cid Rodrigo Diaz de Bivar: for it was by the valour of his arms that the momentous question of superiority between the two great powers in the Peninsula was decided as every Christian and Spanish heart could have wished. The honour of his chivalry is bright and pure; for to swear by his knighthood, affé de Rodrigo, is still the most solemn form of a Spaniard’s asseveration.

The marriage of Don Diego Laynez, a Castilian gentleman, and Donna Teresa Rodriguez, daughter of a count and governor of Asturias, was followed in the year 1026 by the birth of a son at Burgos, who was called Rodrigo Diaz, and of Bivar, from the conquest made by his father of a town two leagues north of Burgos; but he was more generally designated as the Cid, from the Asiatic title, Es Sayd, (my Lord,) which five Moorish emirs whom he conquered gave him, and which his king confirmed.[182] Indeed, from the number of his victories over the Moors, he emphatically merited this title.

His early ferocious heroism.

While yet a youth he gave an earnest of his martial and ferocious disposition. His father had been insulted by a blow from Count Don Gomez, Lord of Gormaz, but he was unable, from old age and infirmities, to take vengeance, and he mourned in solitude and dishonour. Rodrigo, in order to restore peace to his father’s mind, defied and fought the mighty man of arms: he slew him, and returned to his home with the head of the vanquished hanging at his saddle-bow. His father was seated at table with dinner, untasted, before him. Rodrigo presented to him the head, which he called the herb that would restore his father’s appetite. The old man embraced his son, and, placing him at the head of his table, declared that he alone was worthy of being at the head of the house of Layn Calvo. His father soon afterwards died. Rodrigo next distinguished himself by beating back an invasion of five Moorish emirs who had fearfully ravaged the country; and instead of treating them with severity, he gave them liberty, receiving their submission and tribute.[183]

His singular marriage.

The Cid’s affair with Gomez was productive of an interesting circumstance, and illustrative of the manners of that remote and singular period. Ximena, the daughter of the Count, required of Don Ferdinand, King of Castile, the strange boon of Rodrigo of Bivar in marriage, alleging as her reason that his possessions would one day be greater than those of any man in the Castilian dominions. She declared that the power of pardon rested in her breast; and, like other amatory enthusiasts, she gave a colouring of religion to her wishes, by urging that the marriage would be for the service of God. The King consented, and summoned the Cid to his court; who, on receiving the message, incontinently dighted himself full gallantly, and, accompanied by many knights and other armed peers in festival guise, he repaired to the King at Valentia. Ferdinand received him with so much honour as to excite the envy of the courtiers. The purpose of the summons was communicated, and Rodrigo had no difficulty in consenting to marry the lady whose father he had killed. The marriage was celebrated; and the satisfaction of the King is peculiarly marked, for he made him large grants of land, being aware of his military prowess, and thinking that by this marriage he had secured his allegiance.[184] The Cid took his bride home, and, commending her to the kindest care of his mother, he went towards the Moorish frontier; for, in order to give a zest to his marital pleasures, he had vowed not to solace himself with Ximena’s love till he had won five battles in the field.

Enters the service of King Ferdinand.

He was soon called to be the champion of his king; for a quarrel between Don Ferdinand and his brother Don Ramirio, King of Arragon, regarding the city of Caldhorra, was to be decided by arms. The Cid and the other champion, Don Martin Gonzales, entered the lists, and the judges placed them in such situations that the sun and wind favoured neither. They careered so fiercely against each other that their lances broke, but in the closer encounter of swords the Cid prevailed: he slew his adversary; and the judges declared that the city of Caldhorra belonged to Don Ferdinand.

The Cid’s chivalric gallantry.

This victory was rewarded by the gratitude of the King, and the envy of the courtiers; and the latter, in the bitterness of their rage, endeavoured to plot with the Moorish emirs, the subjects of the Cid, for his destruction. But the Moors not only disdained the alliance, but revealed the meditated treason to their lord. Many of the conspirators were banished; but regarding one person the chivalric gallantry of the conqueror prevailed over his just resentment. The wife of the Count Don Garcia prayed for the pardon of her lord: she fell at the knees of the Cid, but he would not listen to her until she rose. She requested him to command the Moorish emir, into whose country she and her husband were sentenced to be banished, to treat them with mildness and benevolence. The Cid spoke according to her will; and the King of Cordova, for the love he bore that hero, treated them kindly, and gave Cabra to Garcia as a habitation. As far as Garcia was concerned this kindness was misplaced; for he made war upon his benefactor, the King of Cordova, till the Cid went and punished him. The circumstances attending this punishment will be told in a subsequent and very interesting part of our hero’s life.

The Cid then assisted his sovereign in wresting Viseu, Lamego, and other cities from the Moors. There were no circumstances of his valour so remarkable as the cruel vengeance of Ferdinand on a man taken at Viseu, who had slain King Don Alfonso, his wife’s father. He cut off the foot which had prest down the armatost, or instrument by means of which the cross-bow wag charged, he lopt off the hands which had held the bow and fitted the quarrel, and plucked out the eyes which had taken the mark. The archers then made a butt of the living trunk.[185] Thus, whatever might have been the influence of chivalry on the mind of the Cid, it certainly had not tempered the ferocity of his Gothic sovereign.

He is knighted.

Coimbra was one of the new conquests, and in that city Rodrigo was knighted. The ceremony was performed in the church of Saint Mary, which had once been the great mosque of Coimbra. The King girded on the sword and gave him the kiss, but not the blow, for the Cid needed no remembrancer of his duties. The ladies were his honourable attendants on this august occasion. The Queen gave him his horse, and the Infanta, Donna Urraca, fastened on his spurs. His names, Rodrigo Diaz, were now compressed into Ruydiez, agreeably to a frequent custom at investiture, which in so many respects was similar to baptism. By permission of the King he then exercised the privileges of his new rank by knighting nine noble squires. By this time the vow of the Cid was performed, and he retired awhile from the court to the society of his wife.

Death of King Ferdinand. The Cid becomes the knight of Sancho, King of Castile. Mixture of evil and good in the Cid’s character. Supports the King in his injustice. The Cid’s romantic heroism.

Ferdinand soon afterwards died, having, contrary to the principles of the nation’s constitution, divided his kingdom among his children. This breaking up the interests of the Gothic monarchy was most unwise; for the Goths were a fierce race, and in the cause of ambition brother had shed brother’s blood.[186] The Cid went into the service of Don Sancho, King of Castile, the eldest son of the late sovereign; and in all his wars, whether with Christians or Musulmans, he deported himself after his wonted manner: and his great feats of arms won so entirely the heart of the King that he made him his campeador, or officer whose duty it was to mark the place for the encampment of the host.

Sancho expressed his purpose of possessing himself of what he chose to consider his inheritance,—the whole kingdom of his late father. His iniquitous design was manfully opposed by one of his counsellors, who nobly declared that there was not a man in the world who would advise him to break the command of his father, and the vow which he had made to him. Sancho then turned to the Cid, stating to him, singularly enough, that he solicited his advice, for his father had charged him upon pain of his curse not to act without his judgment. The Cid replied, that it would ill behove him to counsel his sovereign to contradict the will of the late King. Sancho rejoined, with admirable casuistry, that he did not think he was breaking his oath to his father, for he had always denied the justice of the partition, and the oath alluded to had been forcibly extorted. The Cid found the King was resolute in his purpose; and in the conflict of duties which the circumstances gave rise to, his martial spirit overcame his virtue, and he determined to continue his soldier.

He prevailed upon Sancho, however, not to pass into the territory of Don Garcia, his brother, King of Gallicia, unless he obtained the love and licence of his brother, Don Alfonso, King of Leon. Numerous battles were fought, without, however, wearing any chivalric feature, and therefore not within my purpose to describe. In all of them the green pennon of the Cid floated conspicuously and triumphantly; and his achievements were so far beyond mortal comparison, that he was called the fortunate Cid—he of good fortune—he that was born in a happy hour. On one occasion Sancho was taken prisoner, but he was rescued by the Cid; and the circumstances are illustrative of the romantic character of the age. Thirteen knights were bearing the King away, when the Cid alone and lanceless, for he had shivered his weapon in the battle, galloped after them. He cried to them, “Knights, give me my Lord, and I will restore yours to you.” They scornfully bade him avoid contending with them, or they would make him prisoner too. “Give me but a lance, and, single as I am, I will rescue my Lord from all of ye,” was the heroic rejoinder of the Cid; adding, with increased energy and confidence, “By God’s help, I will do it.” The chivalric request could not be denied by cavaliers, and they gave him a lance. But such was the spirit and force with which he attacked them, that he slew eleven of the thirteen: on the two survivors he had mercy; and thus he rescued his King.[187]

Sancho’s further injustice opposed by the Cid.

Don Sancho became king both of Gallicia and Leon, confining his brother Garcia in irons as if he had been a traitor, and compelling Alfonso to seek for brotherly affection among the Moors. He robbed also his sister, Donna Elvira. Still his ambition was not satisfied; the little town of Zamora, belonging to his sister, Donna Urraca, was wanting to fill the measure of his desires. He dispatched the Cid to her on the painful office of requiring Zamora for a price or in exchange, and of communicating the King’s purpose of seizing it by force in case she did not accede to his wishes. The great men of Zamora dissuaded the Infanta from surrendering the place: their courageous spirits declared that they would rather eat their mules and their horses, yea, their very wives and children; and the danger of yielding was shadowed out to her in that dark proverbial manner in which the Spaniards often conveyed their wisdom. “He who besieges you on the rock,” they said, “will soon drive you from the plain.”

The Cid returned to the King with the answer which this counsel dictated. Sancho, in his anger at the failure of the embassy, reproached his campeador with unskilful management of his task; for his conscience told him that he who, like the Cid, had been bred up in the same house with Urraca, must have felt some compunctions at requiring her to give up the right of her inheritance. The campeador did not defend himself by stating that he had discharged his duty as an advocate for the King’s purposes; he only declared that he had discharged faithfully his bidding as a true vassal; but he added, that he would not bear arms against the Infanta, nor against Zamora, because of the days that were past.[188]

Death of Sancho. Instance of the Cid’s virtuous boldness.

Incensed at this opposition to his authority, Sancho banished his faithful campeador, who joined King Alfonso in the Moorish territories, with twelve hundred horse and foot, knights and squires, all men of approved worship. Alarmed at this defection of his bravest cavaliers, the counsellors of Sancho advised him to revoke his edict: it was revoked: the campeador returned, but he would not bear arms against the Infanta nor Zamora, because of the days that were past. The King attacked the town, and lost his life in the attempt. There were circumstances about his death that impeached both his brother Alfonso and his sister Urraca. The Castilians murmured their suspicions; but when Alfonso came to be crowned, the Cid was the only man of sufficient virtue and spirit to decline doing homage. Much astonishment was expressed in the countenances of the courtiers and prelates, who had already kissed the hands of Alfonso; and when he was called on by the sovereign-elect to perform his acknowledgment, he boldly declared, that all who were then present suspected that by his counsel the King, Don Sancho, had come by his death, “and therefore I say,” he continued, “unless you clear yourself of this, as by right you should do, I will never kiss your hand, nor receive you for my lord.”

The King expressed his pleasure at these sentiments, and swore to God and to St. Mary that he never slew his brother nor took counsel for his death; neither did his death please him, though Sancho had taken his kingdom from him. Alfonso then desired his courtiers to describe the means by which he might clear himself. They replied, that he and twelve of his knights, as his compurgators, must take that oath in the church of St. Gadra, at Burgos. Accordingly, the King and his knights repaired to Burgos, in whose church of St. Gadra mass was celebrated before the royal family, the nobility, and the people. The King then took a conspicuous station near the altar. The Cid left his place, and, opening the Gospels, he laid the book upon the altar. The King placed his hand upon the volume; and the Cid said to him, with a seriousness of manner approaching to sternness, while the people attended with the intensest curiosity, “King Don Alfonso, you appear in this place to swear on the subject of your brother’s death. You swear that you neither slew him, nor took counsel for his death: say now, you and these hidalgos, your friends and compurgators, if ye swear this?” And the King and his knights answered, “Yea, we swear it.” The Cid continued, “If you knew of this matter, or commanded that it should be performed, may your fate be similar to that of your brother. May you die by the hand of a villain, in whom you trust; one who is not a hidalgo; one who is not a Castilian, but a foreigner.” The King and his knights cried, “Amen.” But Alfonso’s colour faded; and the Cid, marking this sign of guilt, repeated the oath to him. The King assented, but again his countenance paled. A third time did the Cid press him, for the laws of Castile allowed this reiteration; and once more did the King’s language and countenance contradict each other. But the compurgation was now completed, and the Cid was compelled to do homage.[189]

Character of Alfonso, successor of Sancho. Story of his chivalric bearing.

Alfonso is a very interesting character among the kings and knights of Spain. Whatever participation he might have had in his brother’s death, such foul conduct did not sully his general dealings. Justice was so admirably administered in Castile, that the people expressed their joy in the beautiful sentence,—that if a woman were to travel alone through his dominions, bearing gold and silver in her hand, no one would interrupt her path, whether in the desert or the peopled country. He was the friend of the distressed, the supporter of the weak, the strength of the nation. In his conduct to Alimayon, the Moorish King of Toledo, we may find displayed in a very interesting manner the frank dealing, the ingenuousness, the noble confidence, the honour of a cavalier, beautifully coloured with romantic thought. Alfonso was allied with Alimayon, that mighty sovereign of the Moors; but the treaty, instead of being the free union of two equal and independent authorities, had been extorted from Alfonso, when the chance of war had thrown him into Alimayon’s power. It was, of course, obligatory on the honour and faith of Alfonso; and though he respected his ally, his chivalric pride whispered the wish that his friendship had been obtained by some other mode. In the second year of his reign, Alfonso marched towards Toledo, hearing that the territories of Alimayon had been invaded by the King of Cordova. He made no proclamation of his purpose, and Alimayon, not assured of his motives, sent messengers to him, reminding him of their alliance. The King detained the messengers. He then pursued his course to Olias; and the King of Cordova, divining his purpose, broke up his encampment before Toledo, and fled. Alfonso left his army at Olias, and, accompanied only by five knights and Alimayon’s messengers, he rode to Toledo. He was met and greeted by his brother-sovereign, who kissed his shoulder, and thanked him for his truth in coming to his deliverance, and for remembering their mutual oath. The Moorish people expressed by their songs and atabals the love which the Christians bore their lord; but the Castilians severely blamed Alfonso for his implicit faith in the honour of a Moor. Alimayon returned with Alfonso next day to the Christian camp. An entertainment, worthy of the splendour of chivalry, was furnished forth: but while the kings were at table Alimayon was astonished at seeing some armed knights gradually surrounding the tent. His brother-sovereign bade him suspend his curiosity till the conclusion of the feast: the Moor did so; and Alfonso then reminded him that their alliance had been formed when he was in his power at Toledo, but now, as Alimayon was in his power, he required an exoneration of that oath and covenant. Alimayon could not but comply; and agreeably to the form, both Moorish and Christian, acquitted him of his promise, in expressions thrice repeated. Alfonso then called for the book of the Gospels, and said to him, “Now that you are in my power, I swear and promise to you, never to fight against you nor against your son, but to aid you against all the world. The oath which I formerly made was forced from me, and therefore not obligatory on my conscience and conduct: but I cannot violate the present oath, for I make it now that you are in my hands, and I can treat you as I please.” The alliance was then settled on a firmer basis than ever; and Alfonso, after making the King of Cordova feel the might of his power, took his course to Castile.[190]

The Cid’s second marriage. Is banished from Alfonso’s court. Becomes the ally of the Moors; but recalled. Is banished again.

Return we now to our Cid. His wife Ximena was dead; and Alfonso, in order to attach him to his person, married him to his own niece, also a Ximena. The marriage was celebrated on the 19th of July, in the year 1074. For some years the achievements of the Cid were confined to the duties which were imposed on him as King’s champion. Questions of territory between Alfonso and the Moors were generally decided by single combat, and the Cid was always victorious. These circumstances should have cemented the friendship of the King and his campeador: but the courtiers, by their well-weaved plots, succeeded in driving into banishment their most formidable rival in the affections of the sovereign. The Cid took refuge with the Moorish King of Saragossa, and continued in that part of Spain for some years the subject and soldier of the Moors, fighting their battles against the Christians; but always showing mercy to the vanquished. Mercy, indeed, to those whom he conquered in the field was a prevailing feature of his character, which he displayed without regard to religious peculiarities: for in his previous battles in the cause of Alfonso he had often released his prisoners unransomed.

The Moors from Africa invaded Spain. In the extremity of his distress, Alfonso recalled the Cid, who soon drove back the enemy. For a considerable time that leader enjoyed the gratitude of his sovereign, and was the soul of the Christian army; and then circumstances arose which his enemies ingeniously perverted to his injury. Alfonso was gone into Andalusia against the Moors, unaccompanied by the Cid, whom sickness detained at home. He recovered, however, in time to meet and repel a Moorish invasion on the other side; and he retaliated on them as far as Toledo, whose king complained to Alfonso of the campeador’s violation of the oath and covenant between them. Alfonso was astonished and displeased; and suffering his mind to be influenced by the suggestions of the Ricos-omes, all his hatred of the Cid returned in its pristine force. He saw nothing in him now but the avenger of Don Sancho’s death. He summoned him to Burgos; but the Cid replied he would meet him between that town and Bivar. They accordingly met, and the campeador would have kissed his hand in homage; but the King repulsed him, angrily saying, “Ruydiez, quit my land.” The Cid instantly pricked his mule to another piece of ground, and replied, “I am now, Sir, upon my own land, and not upon yours.” The King then commanded him to depart from his states forthwith, not even allowing him thirty days’ time, the usual licence of the hidalgos.

The moment of his banishment was not an unhappy one, for it was then that he discovered his strength; many knights and other valiant men-of-arms resolving, with his cousin-german, Alvar Fañez, to accompany him through desert and peopled country, and spend their wealth, and garments, and horses in his service. But the joyous exultation of this consciousness of power was soon checked by the grief of quitting his own home;—the deserted hall, the perches without hawks upon them, the porch without its seats, no cloaks hanging down the walls:—all these signs of desolation brought tears into his eyes, and he exclaimed, “My enemies have done this:” but soon recovering his Christian resignation, he cried, “God be praised for all things.” He passed through Burgos, where the people could not receive him, for the King had prohibited them to do so; and he whose sword had been girt on in a happy hour, was condemned to pitch his tents upon the sands.

Singular story of the Cid’s unknightly meanness.

The chivalric history of the Cid is now varied by a circumstance which has not its parallel in the life of any other cavalier on record. He was deeply distressed for present money, and he obtained some by means not recommended in any code of knighthood. He filled two chests with sand, and persuaded two Jews, who had confidence in his honour, that their contents were gold. He had been accustomed to sell to these men his Moorish spoils, and he demanded on the present security the sum of six hundred marks. The money was delivered. The negociation was conducted on the part of the Cid by his friend, Martin Antolinez, who received a handsome present from the Jews; but the Cid, the noble-minded lofty cavalier, was the author of this unknightly piece of craft; and he consoled his conscience by the reflection that he acted more from necessity than inclination, and that in time he would redeem all. In order to avoid detection, he made the Jews promise not to open the chests for a year, but to retain them only as a security.

One little trait of the Cid’s coolness and cunning must be noticed. The Jews, in their joy at the excellence of the bargain, were disposed to generosity, and offered the Cid a red skin, Moorish and honourable. The Cid accepted it, telling his friends he would consider it as a gift, if they had bought it; otherwise, they should add its value to the loan.[191]

Fortunes of the Cid during his exile.

The Cid then went to Cardina; and, after bidding farewell to his wife and children, he quitted gentle Castile, and went into the Moorish territory. He battled with the Moors and vanquished them, sparing, however, those who were the allies of Alfonso. In particular, he won a great victory over them in a sally which he made from the castle of Alcocer, wherein he was besieged by them. The Cid of Bivar was known by his green pennon and gilt saddle. He charged his standard-bearer, Pero Bermuez, not to venture forward before he commanded. The circumstances of the battle are described in the translation of the old poem of the Cid with astonishing spirit:—

His victory over the Moors presented the Cid with a fair occasion of propitiating Alfonso. He accordingly dispatched Alvar Fañez into Castile with a gift to the King of thirty Moorish horses, which was accepted. Alfonso did not show present honour to the Cid, but he expressed his joy at the victory; and relieved from all penalties those who had joined him, and those who should be induced to follow his fortunes.[193] These were joyful news to the Cid and his host; and the faithful messenger brought also such tidings of their families, that, as men as well as Castilians, they were right joyful.

The Cid’s chivalric nobleness and generosity.

On every occasion the Cid showed a generous indifference to his own share of the spoil; and whatever country he left, both men and women wept, and the prayers of the people went before him, so high was his reputation for acts of individual clemency. Once he invaded a Moorish territory with which Raymond Berenger, Count of Barcelona, was in alliance. The Count and his Frenchmen harnessed themselves in their gay attire, resolved to recover the spoil of the Cid. But he who was born in a happy hour smiled at the vain splendour of the French cavaliers; and while his men were placing their plain Gallician saddles on their horses, he assured them, that for one of their enemy whom they should slay, three would leap from their horses in terror. Berenger’s force was defeated: he himself was taken prisoner; and of the spoil the most precious part was his good sword, Colada.

The subsequent circumstances will recall to the reader’s mind the chivalric bearing of the Black Prince and Henry V. Berenger was conducted to the tent of his vanquisher, and a repast was set before them; but he refused all refreshment, though my Cid courteously invited him. The next day a very splendid entertainment was set forth; but the Count preserved his pride and sullenness, or only broke forth into expressions of contempt and self-reproach that he had been beaten by a set of ragged fellows. My Cid did not reply to this uncourtesy, but continued to urge him to partake of the repast, and not lament the chance of war. But Berenger abandoned himself to unmanly despondency, and desired to be left alone to die. For three days he continued in this abject state; and he was only roused from it by the noble offer of the Cid to give liberty to him and any two of his knights. The Cid, however, was good humouredly resolved not to part from him, unless he partook of his hospitality. “If you do not eat heartily, Count, you and I shall not part yet.” They then cemented their kindness and gratitude by good cheer, and the Count was permitted to take his leave: but as he rode away he frequently reverted his eyes to know if the Cid were pursuing him, for his own ignoble soul could not credit the generosity of his vanquisher.[194]

Is recalled by Alfonso.

Increased admiration of the Cid’s military talents, and the death by treachery of one of his bravest officers, induced Alfonso to wish for a reconciliation with his faithful campeador. It was effected; but not till the Cid had induced the King to stipulate that no hidalgo should be banished in future without a lawful hearing of his cause, and the old licence of thirty days. On another great matter he was also the friend of the public good; for he induced the King to consent to preserve the privileges of towns, and not to impose taxes on them contrary to their customs. Alfonso even conceded the liberty of armed resistance to his acts, if ever they should contradict his solemn engagements.

The Cid captures Toledo,

The Cid’s happiness was soon alloyed by the death of his son Rodrigo; a young man whose military spirit was so fine and gallant, that the Christians regarded him as the hope of Spain. The Cid was speedily called from private cares and sorrows to a more important undertaking than any he had been ever engaged in. He headed the Christian troops against Toledo; and those troops embraced not only the flower of Spanish chivalry, but many knights from France, Italy, and Germany; so important to the general fate of religion and arms was the capture of Toledo considered. We may lament, with many an admirer of Spanish chivalry, that the memory of their gallant deeds has not been handed down to us, and censure the ancient chroniclers for wronging such worthy knights. We only know that Toledo was captured by the Cid on the 25th of May, in the year 1085.

Among many subsequent military achievements of the campeador I shall select only his engagement with his old foe, Raymond Berenger, Count of Barcelona, who had hastily taken up arms to assist a Moorish prince, also an enemy of the Cid. If the Cid had dreaded numbers he would have yielded: if he had regarded the established reputation of knights, he would have partaken of the general terror, for the French were esteemed the best knights in the world, and the best appointed; and fame proceeded to ascribe to Berenger’s the chivalric virtues of courage and skill in no ordinary degree. But the exhortations of the Cid and his very presence animated the troops to heroism; and when the moment of battle, fixed by his own admirable skill, arrived, the event, as usual, proved that he had been born in a happy hour. Berenger and his chief officers fell into his hands: he showed them great courtesy; and released them on their ransom, and their promise on their knighthood never to appear in arms against him again.[195]

and Valentia.

The capture of Valentia was the next and most important circumstance in the Cid’s career. The fame of his exploits had drawn to his standard a thousand knights of lineage, five hundred and fifty other horsemen, and of foot-soldiers a thousand. I shall not detail the events of the nine months’ siege of Valentia; for the picture does not vary in any of its colours and shades from the scenes of blood, and horror, and desolation, in other wars.

Story of Spanish manners.

There is one circumstance, however, of a different character, and pleasingly illustrative of ancient manners. Among the hosts of the Cid was an Asturian hidalgo, named Martin Paleaz, who was better known for his personal strength than his chivalric courage. The Cid resolved to shame him into bravery; and he seized as a fitting occasion a day when Martin had concealed himself while his brother-knights were tourneying with the Moors. When the dinner-hour arrived, Martin Paleaz, not suspecting that the Cid had discovered his baseness, washed his hands with the other knights, and would have taken his place at the common table; but the Cid grasped his hand, and telling him that neither of them was worthy to sit with such valorous knights as those who were now before them, he led him to his own high table where it was his general custom to sit, and dine alone; Alvar Fañez, Pero Bermuez, and knights of equal renown, sitting at other high tables, while the rest of the knights reclined upon estrados with tables before them. There was no equality of knighthood, therefore, among the cavaliers of Spain as in the Celtic nations. There was no Round Table, generously dispensing with the inequalities of rank. It was a subject of honourable ambition with the knights of the Cid to be pronounced worthy of sitting at the table with Alvar Fañez and his companions; and the simple Martin Paleaz plumed himself on his superior honours.

The next day the Christian knights held a joust to the utterance with the Moors; and the Cid was pleased by observing that Martin Paleaz was so much elated that he did not, as usual, quit the field when the lances met in rude shock. The Cid, on returning to his lodging, not only placed his gallant friend by his side, but invited him to eat out of his own dish; adding, that he had deserved better that day than yesterday. This expression revealed the whole matter to Paleaz: he now saw that the Cid had discovered all the artifices of his cowardice, and that he had placed him by his side at table to disgrace, and not to honour him; thinking that such a recreant was not fit to sit with other knights. These reflections of shame kindled in him a spark of courage; and he now resolved to deport himself like a gallant cavalier. In several subsequent battles with the Moors he fought so bravely that they marvelled, and enquired whence that devil had come. The Cid rewarded him with his friendship, and also the distinction of sitting at the table with Alvar Fañez and other true knights.[196]

The Cid’s unjust conduct to the Moors.

The Cid became lord of Valencia, reserving, however, the feudal and absolute sovereignty to King Alfonso. He made many arrangements with the Moors, to the credit of his ingenuity, rather than of his honour; for he violated them all as soon as his purposes were accomplished. Finally, he permitted the conquered to live in the adjoining town and suburb of Alcudia; to have their own law administered by their own cadis and alguazils; to enjoy two mosques, one in the city, and the other in the suburb, the Moors paying to the Cid a tenth part of their produce, as the price of his concessions. The campeador was a banished man from gentle Castile, when he took Valencia, the malignity of his enemies having again wrought upon the jealous temper of Alfonso: but his victories once more reconciled him to the King, who accepted from him a noble present of horses, saddled and bridled, each with a bright sword hanging from the saddle-bow. His wife and daughters now joined him at Valencia; and it is curious to notice, as a point in his character, that his first expression of joy was to run a career on his good horse Bavieca, who performed his exercises so beautifully, that the people marvelled, and he became famous over all Spain.

The unchivalric character of the Cid’s wife and daughters.

The Cid mistook the character of his wife and daughters; for he thought that the martial spirit of chivalry animated them as well as himself: howbeit, in truth, they were attached to the gentler duties of life. A Moorish host came from Africa to contest with him his right to Valencia; and, in order to entertain Ximena and her damsels, he placed them in a lofty tower, whence they might view, without danger, the bloody strife. But, unlike the women in other chivalric countries, they turned pale, and trembled at the scene; and the Cid removed them, though their presence was important; for the courage of his troops was animated to fury when they thought that ladies were witnessing their feats of arms.[197]

The Cid recalled by Alfonso.

New presents were made to Alfonso of the spoils taken on this occasion; and the King and his campeador were formally and publicly reconciled. The Cid humbled himself with oriental prostrations; for many parts of Moorish manners were copied by the Spaniards. They had not met for some years; and time had laid his wrinkling hand on the brow of the Cid. But Alfonso was more particularly struck with the appearance of his beard, which had grown to a marvellous length.[198]

The marriages of his daughters. Basely treated by their husbands.

The Cid was now at a height of power never reached by any subject; and his wealth attracted the admiration of men of nobler birth. The Infantes of Carrion solicited the hands of his daughters: the alliance was favoured by the King; and the Cid and Ximena, though they liked not the character of the young nobles, yielded to his importunities, and the marriages were solemnized. These marriages were an abundant source of infelicity; and he whose good fortune had generally warranted his popular title,—he that was born in a happy hour,—repented of having yielded to the King’s suggestions. The Infantes were men of base and cowardly minds, and totally unable to maintain a noble port in the house of the Cid, where courage and martial exercises gave the tone to manners. Mortified personal pride took refuge in the pride of birth; and the Infantes chose to imagine that they had sullied their nobility by allying themselves with the family of the Cid: but they did not consider that they had violated the chivalry of their rank when they insulted, and even beat their wives, leaving them in a wood, apparently dead. The ladies were found by a relation, and the Cid became acquainted with the story. He appealed to the King, who appointed a cortez at Toledo, to judge the matter; and weighty indeed must it have been thought, for the present was but the third cortez which had been held during the reign of Alfonso.

Cortez at Toledo to decide the cause.

To Toledo, accordingly, all parties repaired. The Cid had with him the best and bravest knights, a gallant array, whose tents on the hills round the city were so numerous that the Cid’s attendants seemed like a host, rather than a common guard of honour. The hall of the palace of Galiana, the place of assemblage of the cortez, had its walls hung with cloths of gold, and estrados, with carpets, were placed on the ground. At the upper end was the King’s chair, the ancient seat of the kings of Toledo; and round it were rich and noble estrados for the chief lords of the cortez. Near the chair of the King the Cid caused, the day before the meeting, an ivory seat to be placed, which he had won in Valencia, it having belonged to the kings of that city. A number of his esquires, with their swords hanging from their necks, guarded the seat, till their lord should come and take possession of it.

Picture of ancient manners.

The next morning the King, after hearing mass, repaired to the palace of Galiana, with the Infantes of Carrion, and the counts and ricos-omes of the cortez. The ivory seat excited the envy of Count Garcia, the ancient rival of the Cid; and the chief esquire was ready by arms to repel his sneers and sarcasms, till the King prevented the progress of the contest, by declaring that his campeador had won the seat right honourably; that never had any vassal sent to his lord such gifts as he had done; and that if any one were envious, let him achieve equal feats of honour, and the King would seat him next the throne.

The Cid now entered the hall, accompanied by a hundred of his choicest knights. They were apparelled both for courtesy and war. To the eye of the court their garments were only fine skins of ermine, and the usual cloak of the nation; but underneath they wore hauberks of well-tempered mail, and swords sweet and sharp in the edge. The dress of the campeador himself would have surprised Raymond Berenger, Count of Barcelona, and his mocking Frenchmen. His hose was of fine cloth, his shoes were richly worked: his body was clad in the finest linen, and a red skin, all curiously worked with gold and silver. His coif was of scarlet and gold; but the beard, of which he was so conscious, was bound by a cord, in sign of mourning and woe.

Most of the assembly rose to greet him; and the King offered him a share of his own seat. But the Cid replied, that it would better become him to be at his feet, for he owed his fame and fortune to the goodness of the King and his brother and father; and it was not fit for him that received bounty to sit with him who dispensed it. The King then commanded him to place himself on the ivory seat, for that he had won it like a good man. This he did, and the hundred knights surrounded their lord.

The purpose of the cortez was declared by the King, and two noble counts were sworn alcaldes, to judge rightly and truly between the campeador and the Infantes of Carrion, according to the law of Castile and Leon. The Cid then demanded that his two good swords, Colada and Tizona, should be restored to him. He had given them into the keeping of the Infantes of Carrion, that they might honour his daughters with them, and serve their king. But when they left his daughters in the oak-forest of Corpes, they renounced his love, and as they were no longer his sons-in-law, they ought to render him back the swords. The alcaldes deliberated upon this demand, and decreed that the swords should be restored. The Infantes delivered them to the King, pleased with the moderation of the Cid’s demand. Alfonso drew the swords, and the whole court shone with their brightness. Their hilts were made of solid gold, and all the knights present marvelled. The Cid received them from the King; and, smiling, even from the strongest of his heart’s affections, he laid them upon his knees, and called them the best swords in Spain, and grieved that the Infantes of Carrion had kept them hungry, and had not fed them with flesh as they had been wont to be fed with. He delivered them to the care of Alvar Fañez, and Pero Bermuez, who solicited the honourable charge.

The Cid then demanded a restoration of the treasure which he had given to the Infantes on occasion of his daughters’ marriages. This demand was faintly resisted by the argument, that it had been spent in the King’s service. The Cid judiciously took advantage of the admission, that the treasure had been received, and then fairly enough contended that it touched not him, if the Infantes had expended money for the King; and so Alfonso himself judged the matter; and the alcaldes decreed the restitution of the treasure.

To carry this ordinance into effect the court was adjourned; and when it re-assembled the Cid rose from his ivory seat, and recapitulating the circumstances of the marriages, and not sparing the King for his share in them, he demanded of the Infantes the reasons of their conduct: he declared he would not let them depart without mortal defiance. He added, laying his hand upon his beard, (his usual sign of wrath,) that if the King and the cortez would not right him he would do justice to himself; he would follow them to Carrion; he would take them by the throat, and carry them prisoners to his daughters at Valencia, where they should do penance for their offences, and be fed with the food which they deserved.

The King mildly remarked, that in promoting the marriages he had acted according to the request of the Infantes themselves, and he saw that much of the dishonour touched himself. To the storm of passion with which the Cid had concluded his address, the King firmly replied that the cause was before the cortez, and that the alcaldes would pass a righteous sentence.

The Cid recovered his serenity, and kissing the King’s hand, returned to his ivory seat.

After a brief pause he rose, and thanking the King for his compassion for his and his daughters’ dishonour, he defied the Infantes to mortal combat.

The King called upon them to reply; and they boldly excused their leaving their wives: for the daughters of Ruy Diaz of Bivar were not worthy of alliance with men who were the best hidalgos in all Castile. Regarding the acts of personal cruelty and unchivalric deportment, they said nothing. They denied the necessity of doing battle upon such a matter with any one. Count Don Garcia then began to lead the Infantes from the court, and exclaimed, as he passed the Cid, “Let us leave him, sitting like a bridegroom in his ivory chair, and thinking that his beard will frighten us.”

The campeador stroked his chin, and sternly demanded what the Count had to do with his beard. “Thanks be to God,” he added, “never son of woman hath taken me by it; never son of Moor or of Christian hath plucked it as I did yours in your castle of Cabra, Count, when I took your castle of Cabra, and took you by the beard: there was not a boy of the host who did not pull it.”—“The hair which I plucked has not, methinks, grown again,” he added with a look of bitterest scorn.

To this cruel sarcasm Garcia could only answer by the low scurrility of desiring the Cid to go back to his own country, and take toll for his mills as he used to do.

This insult was scarcely to be tolerated. The knights of the Cid grasped their swords, and looked at each other with fierce countenances; but their respect for the command of their lord, not to act till he bade them, kept them silent. The Cid himself forgot his own injunctions, and reproached his former standard-bearer, Pero Bermuez, for not taking up his cause. That valiant knight, dashing aside some personal insults with which the Cid had mingled his censure, folded his cloak round his arm, and fiercely striding to the Count Garcia, felled him to the ground.

Immediately the court was a scene of wild uproar; swords were drawn, and no respect for the presence of the King could quell the fray. At length the passions exhausted themselves, and the court resumed its sittings. Alfonso declared that he would defend the rights of all parties, and advised Garcia and his friends to support their cause by courtesy and reason, and not to revile the Cid. The cause was proceeded with; and the King with the alcaldes finally decreed that the Infantes, and their uncle Count Suero Gonzales, who had abetted them in their dishonour to the ladies, should do battle with three of the Cid’s people, and acquit themselves if it were in their power.

The battle accordingly was fought, and the champions of the Cid were victors, agreeably to the decision of the twelve true men appointed as judges, and the consenting voice of the King and people. The Infantes of Carrion and their uncle were declared traitors. The family itself sunk into disgrace; a worthy punishment, as the Spanish writers declare, of them who dishonour and desert fair lady.[199]

These circumstances were considered of equal force with a canonical dissolution of marriage; and the daughters of the Cid were shortly afterwards united to the Infantes of Navarre and Arragon, men of far more power and rank than their former lords. Valencia witnessed the present, as it had the former nuptials. Bull-fights, throwing at the target, and throwing the cane, were some of the amusements of the Christians, and the joculars were right nobly rewarded. The Moors, also, were animated and sincere in their rejoicings; and the spectators were pleasingly distracted between the Christian and the Moorish games. For eight days the rejoicings lasted: each day the people were feasted, and each day they all ate out of silver.

Death of the Cid.

These were the last circumstances of importance in the life of the Cid. Five years afterwards, on the 29th of May, 1099, he died at Valencia. Romance writers have endeavoured to adorn his closing scene; but I cannot select from their works any thing that is either beautiful or probable.

His character.

In one of those historical works which have done honour to the literature of our age, much praise is bestowed upon the Cid, Ruy Diaz, for his frankness, honour, and magnanimity.[200] But, in truth, to very little of this commendation is our hero’s fame entitled. His conduct to the poor Jews of Burgos will not be urged as a proof of his free and noble dealing, of that frank sincerity which interests us in contemplating the worthies of chivalric times; and as for his honour, that sacred possession of a knight, he pledged it often to the Moors of Valencia, and violated it to gratify his objects as a conqueror. Look at him in the cortez: observe his coolness, his deliberation, his gradual statement of his demands. Here was the calculating man of vengeance, not the gay, the wild cavalier throwing down his gauntlet, and displaying his whole soul in one burst of generous passion. There is a sternness about the Cid which repels our gaze. His mind was not enriched by Arabic learning, and grateful to his teachers; nor was it softened by recollections of Arabian loves: and when I see him pitying his sword that it had not received the food it deserved, I can scarcely allow him a station among the heroes of chivalry, those brilliant spirits; for I recognise nothing but the barbarism of the Goth, infuriated by the vengeful spirit of the Moor. Let the Cid, however, have his due praise. Several instances of his generosity to prisoners have been given. His treatment of the Moors of Valencia, after he had once settled the government, was noble. He suffered no difference of religion to affect his paternal regards to his people; and thence it happened that Moors and Christians dwelt together under his mild sway with such accord that the union seemed the long result of ages. One of those Moors gave him the following praise, with which I shall conclude my remarks on his character: “The Cid, Ruy Diaz,” said he, “was the man in the world who had the bravest heart, and he was the best knight at arms, and the man who best maintained his law; and in the word which he hath promised he never fails; and he is the man in the world who is the best friend to his friend, and to his enemy he is the mortalest foe among all Christians; and to the vanquished he is full of mercy and compassion; and full thoughtful and wise in whatever thing he doeth; and his countenance is such that no man seeth him for the first time without conceiving great fear.”

Fate of his good horse.

As a horse was part and parcel of a knight, I cannot take leave of the Cid without saying a few words regarding his steed Bavieca. After the death of his master no one was permitted to bestride that good horse. Gil Diaz, a valiant knight, and companion of the Cid, took him in charge, feeding him and leading him to water with his own hand. Bavieca lived two years and a half after the death of his master the Cid; and when he died Gil Diaz buried him before the gate of the monastery at Valencia, in the public place, and planted two elms upon the grave, the one at his head, and the other at his feet.

Spanish chivalry after his death. The merits of missals decided by battle.

I have already alluded to the mighty influence of the Cid on the political history of Spain,—his decision of the great question of Christian or Mohammedan superiority. After his death the impulse which he had given to the Spanish power was kept alive; the Moors never recovered themselves from the prowess of his knighthood, and, finally, they were driven from the Peninsula. It was only when the general Christian cause was the weakest, that the Spanish government, and people, who were occasionally conquerors, extended the humanities of chivalry to the Moors. But when the Crescent waned, this mild aspect was changed; for revenge and all the baleful passions of victory swept away the gentle graces of the cavalier, and intolerance and cruelty rose with the increasing power of the Christians. Concessions of liberty of conscience were made to the Moors, but the treaties were broken, apparently that mockery might embitter pain. The Moors and Christians did not deport themselves to each other with chivalric courtesy; and history gives no warrant to the romantic stories of any magnanimity or grandeur of soul illuminating the last years of the Arabs in Spain.[201] Among the Christians themselves, indeed, the chivalric character was sustained in all its vigour and gracefulness. Ecclesiastical history furnishes us with a very amusing instance of its influence. When Alphonso IX., about the year 1214, had expelled the Moors from Toledo, he endeavoured to establish the Roman missal in the place of St. Isidore’s. But the people clung to their old ideas, and resisted the innovation. Those were not the days of theological argument; but the sword was the only means of deciding disputes and of determining truth. Each party chose a doughty knight, and commended to his chivalry the cause of a missal. The two champions met in the lists; the two parties ranged themselves in the surrounding galleries, and to the joy of the Spaniards the champion of St. Isidore was victorious.[202]

Gallantry of a knight.

But the gallantry of the Spaniards is the most interesting subject of regard. James II., King of Arragon, decreed that every man, whether a knight or another, who should be in company with a noble lady, might pass safe and unmolested, unless he were guilty of murder.[203] In the minds of Spanish knights, religion and love were ever blended; and he who, thinking of his mistress, took for his motto the words, “Sin vos, y sin Dios y mi,” (without thee, I am without God, and without myself,) was not thought guilty of impiety. In romantic gallantry the Spaniard was a very perfect knight. Garcia Perez de Vargas, who lived in the thirteenth century, was a splendid exemplar of Spanish chivalry. His valour excited the envy of men of nobler birth, who displayed the meanness of their spirit in questioning his title to bear arms. He once withstood the Moors, while those of more ancient heraldry quailed. When he had discomfited the foe, he returned to his host, and striking his battered shield, remarked to his envious rival, in a tone of justifiable sarcasm, “You are right in wishing to deprive me of my coat of arms, for I expose it to too great dangers. It would be far safer in your hands; for so prudent a knight as yourself would take very excellent care of it.”[204] Garcia was such a doughty knight, that his very presence terrified the Moors. He and a companion were once suddenly met by a party of seven of their turbaned foes. His friend took flight, but Perez closed his vizor, and couched his lance. The Moors declined a battle. Perez reached the camp: his conduct met with its guerdon; but he had too much chivalric kindness warming his heart to answer the demand, who it was that had forsaken him in so perilous a moment. There was another circumstance in this affair which marks the gallantry of our knight. While his martial demeanour was keeping the Moors at bay he found that his scarf had fallen from his shoulder. He calmly turned his horse’s head, recovered his mistress’s favour, and then pursued his course to the camp, the Moors being still afraid to attack him.[205]

Passage of arms at Orbigo.

On the first day of the year 1434, while the Spanish court was holding its festivities at Medina del Campo, a noble knight, named Sueno de Quinones, presented himself before the King (John II.) with a train of nine cavaliers gallantly arrayed, whose lofty demeanour and armorial ensigns showed that they prided themselves on the perfect purity of their Christian descent. The King smiled graciously on the strangers; and learning from his attendants that they had come to court in order to address his power, he waved his hand in sign of permission for them to speak. A herald, whom they had brought with them, stepped in front, and in the name of Sueno de Quinones spoke thus: “It is just and reasonable that any one who has been so long in imprisonment as I have been should desire his liberty; and, as your vassal and subject, I appear before you to state, that I have been long bound in service to a noble lady; and, as is well known, through heralds, not only in this country but through foreign lands, every Thursday I am obliged to wear a chain of iron round my neck. But, with the aid of the Apostle James, I have discovered a means of liberation. I and my nine noble friends propose, during the fifteen days that precede and the fifteen days that follow the festival of that Saint, to break three hundred lances, with Milan points[206], in the following manner: Three lances with every knight who shall pass this way on his road to the shrine of the Saint. Armour and weapons will be provided in ample store for such cavaliers as shall travel only in palmer’s weeds. All noble ladies who shall be on their pilgrimage unattended by a chivalric escort must be contented to lose their right-hand glove till a knight shall recover it by the valour of his arm.”

When the herald concluded, the King and his council conferred together, and they soon agreed that the laws of chivalry obliged them to consent to the accomplishing of this emprise of arms. When the royal permission was proclaimed by the heralds, Sueno got a noble knight to take off his helmet, and thus, bareheaded, approached the throne, and humbly thanked the King. He afterwards retired with his nine friends; and having exchanged their heavy armour for silken dresses of festivity, they returned to the hall and joined the dance.

Six months were to elapse before the valiant and amorous Sueno de Quinones could be delivered from his shackle; and all that time was spent by him and his friends in exercising themselves to the use of the lance, and in providing stores of harness and lances for such knights as would joust with them. The place that was arranged for the contest was the bridge Orbigo, six hours’ ride from Leon, and three from Astorga. The marble effigies of a herald was set-up in the road; and by the label in its right hand travellers were acquainted that they had reached the passage of arms. The lists were erected in a beautiful plain formed by nature in a neighbouring wood. Tents for banqueting and repose were raised, and amply furnished by the liberality of Sueno. One tent was admirable for the beauty of its decorations, and more so for its purpose. It contained seven noble ladies, who, at the request of the mother of Sueno, devoted themselves to attend upon such of the knights as should be wounded in the joust. At the time appointed, Sueno de Quinones appeared in the lists with his nine companions, all arrayed in the most splendid tourneying harness, the enamoured knight himself bearing round his neck the chain of his mistress, with the motto, which his friends also wore on some part of their armour, “Il faut délibérer.” Many stranger knights jousted with him, and his success was generally distinguished.

The fair penitents to the shrine of the saint were stopped; and such as were of noble birth were asked by the King’s herald to deliver their gloves. The pride and prerogatives of the sex were offended at this demand: the ladies resisted, as much as words and looks of high disdain could resist, the representative of the King; but they yielded with grace and pleasure, when they were asked to surrender their gloves in the name of the laws of chivalry, of those laws which had been made under their auspices, and for their benefit. There was no lack of knights to peril themselves for the recovery of these gloves in the listed plain; and if the champions of the dames were ever worsted by the hardier sons of chivalry, the gallantry of the judges of the tournament would not permit the ladies to suffer from any want of skill or good fortune in their chosen knights. When the thirty days had expired, it appeared that sixty-eight knights had entered the lists against Sueno de Quinones; and in seven hundred and twenty-seven encounters only sixty-six lances had been broken;—a chivalric phrase, expressive either of the actual shivering of lances, or of men being thrown out of their saddles. The judges of the tournament, however, declared, that although the number of lances broken was not equal to the undertaking, yet as such a partial performance of the conditions of the passage at arms had not been the fault of Sueno de Quinones, they commanded the king at arms to take the chain from his neck, and to declare that the emprise had been achieved: accordingly the chain was removed, and the delivered knight entered Leon in triumph.[207]

Knights travel and joust for ladies’ love.

The knights of Spain were, indeed, on every occasion gallant as well as brave. When the heralds of France and England crossed the Pyrenees to proclaim the tournaments, which were to be held in honour of woman’s beauty, there was no lack of Spanish cavaliers to obey the sound, and assert the charms of the dark-eyed maidens of their land. This was their wont during all the ages of chivalry; and so late as the fifteenth century one of them travelled so far as England by command of his mistress, and for her sake wished to run a course with sharp spears. His dress confirmed his challenge; for he wore round his arm a kerchief of pleasance, with which his lady-love had graced him before he set out on his perilous quest of honour.[208] This historical fact is very important, as proving that the writers of Spanish tales, in describing the deep devotion of Spanish love, the fidelity which no time nor absence could shake, drew their pictures from no imaginary originals. The romancers shadowed forth the manners of their nation, like the good-humoured satirist, Cervantes, who, while ridiculing the absurdities of knight-errantry, as displayed in works of fiction, never forgot the seriousness approaching to solemnity, the perfect courtesy, the loftiness, and the generosity of the Castilian gentleman.

While the knights of England were admiring the gallantry of the Spanish cavalier, who appeared among them to render himself worthy the smiles of his lady-love, another knight of Spain, named Sir John de Merlo, or Melo, left his native land to add new honours to his shield. He repaired to the court of Philip, Duke of Burgundy, which was then held at Arras, and proclaiming that he wished to joust, in order to win that high fame which was the guerdon of chivalry, he sounded his challenge for any noble knight to break three lances with him. It was not long before that proved and renowned cavalier, Peter de Bauffremont, Lord of Chargny, answered the challenge, prevailing, in return, on the Spaniard to consent to tourney with him on foot with battle-axes, swords, and daggers. The two noble knights then appeared in the lists of the market-place at Arras, which had been fashioned into a tilting ground. The Duke of Burgundy sat as judge of the lists; and he was surrounded by the Dukes of Bourbon and of Gueldres, the Counts of Rochemont, of Vendome, d’Estampes, and, indeed, the chiefest nobility of his states. The Spanish knight entered then the lists, followed by four noble cavaliers of Burgundy, whom the Duke had appointed to do him honourable service. One of them bore on the end of a lance a small banner emblazoned with his arms. The other knights carried his lances, and thus, without more pomp, he courteously made his obeisance to the Duke of Burgundy, and retired from his presence by the way he had entered on the left hand of His Grace. After a pause extended beyond the wonted time, in order to raise the expectations of the spectators into anxiety, the Lord of Chargny pressed his bounding steed into the lists. He was grandly accompanied by three Burgundian lords, and the English Earl of Suffolk, all bearing his lances. Behind him were four coursers, richly caparisoned with his arms and devices, with pages covered with robes of wrought silver; and the procession was closed by the greater part of the knights and squires of the Duke of Burgundy’s household. The Lord of Chargny gracefully bent his body while his proud steed was performing its caracoles, and he then retired through a gate opposite to that of the Spanish knight. At the signal of the Duke the trumpets sounded to horse, the knights pricked forth, the herald’s cry resounded, “Faites vos devoirs, preux chevaliers;” and the career of the gallant warriors deserved the noblest meed; for they tilted with their lances with such admirable skill, that though their weapons shivered, neither cavalier was hurt. The second and the third courses were ran with similar chivalric bearing, and the morning’s amusement closed.

On the next day the Duke of Burgundy, followed by all his chivalry, repaired to the market-place of Arras, in order to witness the second series of these martial games. The Lord of Chargny, as the challenger, appeared first; and it was full an hour before Sir John de Merlo entered the lists: for the Spaniard resolved to retort the delay which the Lord of Chargny had made on the preceding morning. The king-at-arms, called Golden Fleece, proclaimed, in three different parts of the lists, that all who had not been otherwise ordered should retire to the galleries, or without the rails; and that no one should give any hinderance to the two champions, under pain of being punished, by the Duke of Burgundy, with death. The knights then advanced from their respective pavilions, wielding their battle-axes. They were armed in proof; but the Spanish knight, with more than the wonted boldness of chivalry, wore his vizor raised. They rushed upon each other with impetuous daring, and exchanged many mighty blows; but the Lord of Chargny was sore displeased that his adversary did not close his vizor. After they had well proved their valour, the Duke of Burgundy threw down his warder, and the jousting ceased. But the noble knights themselves exclaimed against so early a termination of their chivalric sports; particularly the Spaniard, who declared, as the reason for his anger, that he had travelled at a great expence, and with much fatigue by sea and land, from a far country, to acquire honour and renown. But the Duke remained firm, only soothing his denial by complimenting him on the honourable mode in which he had accomplished his challenge; and, afterwards, the Burgundian nobles vied with each other in praising a cavalier who had shown the unprecedented daring of fighting with his vizor raised. The Duke also entertained him in his palace; and, in admiration of his bravery, made him so many rich presents, that the expences of his journey were amply reimbursed. He soon afterwards mounted his good steed, and left Arras on his return to his own country; and beguiled the long and lonely way by recollections of the past, and dreams of future glory.[209]

Extinction of Spanish chivalry.

The remainder of the history of Spanish chivalry, namely, its decline, may be shortly told. All its martial forms were destroyed by the iron yoke of the house of Austria; and so perfectly, that, in the state of things which succeeded the warfare of the shield and the lance, the Spanish infantry took the lead, and was the most skilful in Europe. At the battle of Ravenna, in the year 1512, they defeated the chivalry of France, and proved the excellence of the new system of warfare. Something, however, of that excellence must be attributed to the spirit of ancient knighthood; for it borrowed the principles of its discipline from ancient times.

In one respect the chivalry of Spain resembled the general chivalry of Europe in its decline; for, at the introduction of the art of printing into the Peninsula, the old romances were the first subjects of the press, as works most agreeable to national taste. Although Spanish poetry was now but a faint copy of the Italian muse, yet the spirit of the antique song occasionally breathed, in wild and fitful notes, the heroism and loves of other times. The point of honour was long preserved as the gem of the Spanish character; and chivalric gallantry continued intense and imaginative, for Arabian literature left impressions on the Spanish mind which the Inquisition could not efface; and thus, while in other countries of Europe woman was gradually despoiled of those divine perfections with which the fine and gallant spirit of chivalry had invested her, and moved among mortals as formed of mortal nature, yet, in the imagination of the grave, the musing Spaniard, she was preserved in her proud pre-eminence, and was still the object of his heart’s idolatry.